Whispers of Moonlight (56 page)

"It's just been two days," Rebecca said calmly as she walked beside them. "He might even be back tomorrow."

"I hope so," Garrett said with a sigh. "I hate it when he's not here to tell us stories."

"Does he tell you a story every night?"

"Yeah, well, not
every
night; sometimes we just pray." Rebecca did not know this but wasn't surprised. Suddenly she was tired of fighting it. What did it really matter if she and Travis agreed over their religious beliefs? Was it worth the misery of holding back her love for her husband? Rebecca was beginning to think not, but she didn't know exactly what to do about it. It was time to go back to the house for lunch, and for the moment she was glad to put their differences from her mind.

Travis arrived home from his next business trip in the middle of the day. He had been too weary to come in the night before, and, in truth, these days he didn't feel as eager to be home. Rebecca was speaking to him some, and they spent most of their evenings together, but the way he had to guard every word and watch her fight against his love exhausted him.

It was already early May, and spring was coming fast to the Rocky Mountains. The boys were outside to greet him and remind him of how important it was that he be home. He had several tin soldiers with horses for them, and even received hugs along with their thanks. The boys were busy on the steps, lining up their men and knocking them over, when he went inside, two more wrapped parcels in his hand.

Lavena was nowhere to be seen, and Travis did not feel comfortable shouting for Rebecca. He moved quietly to the stairs, but she was not in her bedroom. He was on his way to the study when he spotted her. She was nearly lying in a chair in the living room. Alarm slammed through him. Not only was her position odd, but the fact that her hands were idle surprised him. Rebecca never sat idle during the day, always keeping her hands busy. As Travis approached, he could also see that her eyes were closed. She opened them a bit as he neared.

"Are you sick, Rebecca?" he voiced in very real concern.

"No," she answered, but he took in her pale features and was not convinced.

"Do you hurt somewhere?"

Rebecca shifted, but didn't answer.

"Do you want me to go for the doctor?"

"No, Travis," she said testily. "I just want to be alone."

"But your color, Rebecca. I think you're sick. Let me get you some help."

"No one can help me right now, Travis. Just go."

"I'm sure the doctor—"

"Must I spell it out for you, Travis?" she cut him off in disgust. "You're a grown man. I shouldn't think there would be a need."

Understanding hit him like a fist, and he made the mistake of smiling.

"I'm glad you find it amusing." Her voice was still irritated.

"Forgive me, Rebecca," Travis apologized, but he was still smiling. "But not being intimately acquainted with you right now, how could I know?"

She still frowned at him.

"I brought you something," he said now, his voice conciliatory.

"What is it?" she asked as he handed it to her.

"Open it."

Rebecca sat up and did so, but with little joy or interest. Her eyes widened when she saw what was inside. It was a brown split riding skirt, a beautiful
cream-colored blouse, and a brown leather vest. She looked to Travis with questioning eyes.

"I thought you might like to go riding with me sometime."

"I've never ridden a horse in my life."

"I have a
little
bit of experience. I can probably show you."

But Rebecca didn't laugh. She was fighting him again, and they both knew it. Finally her eyes dropped to the other parcel in his grasp.

"What's that?"

"Just something special for the boys for the roundup."

"The roundup?"

"Yes, we leave in two weeks."

"And you're taking the boys?"

"Yes, didn't I tell you?"

"No, you did not." Her voice had gone from outrage to frigid anger, but Travis was weary of tiptoeing around her.

"Is there a problem?" he asked pointedly.

"You're taking
my
sons on a dangerous roundup, and you want to know if I have a problem with it."

She saw just a moment too late that she'd overstepped her bounds. Rebecca pressed back into the
seat as Travis leaned over her, his hands on the arms of the chair, his voice low
and furious.

"Your
sons, Rebecca.
Your
sons? Did I hear you right? It wasn't that many weeks ago that you finally remembered you
have
two sons. How dare you insinuate that I would do anything to harm those boys." He continued to lean over her for several seconds, his eyes still flashing with anger, before he pushed away and strode from the room.

Her hand to her mouth, Rebecca sat trembling for several minutes before she noticed that he had dropped the other parcel. She picked it up and opened it slowly. Inside were two of the smallest pairs of chaps she'd ever seen. She had seen them one other time at Boulder's general store but not thought to buy them for the boys. Now Travis had gone for them, and she had treated him like a criminal. Rebecca rose slowly. She had some apologizing to do.

Should I tell her I'm sorry for my anger, Lord, or have I been too passive? She's so frozen most of the time that even her anger is a relief, but I no longer feel like a man when I'm with her. She won't let me touch her, and she won't let me be the head of my own home.

From his desk chair, Travis swiveled so he could see out the window and thought about the last thing he said to the Lord. If Rebecca was "keeping" him from leading this home, it was because he'd allowed her to do so. Travis asked himself what he would do if she left. For the first time he realized he couldn't
let that alter his future decisions. He had to be the head of his home, and if she didn't like it she could leave. It would tear his heart in two, and he honestly didn't think she'd ever leave the boys, but if she wanted to go, he would let her.

"Travis?"

His head whipped around, and he found his wife in the doorway. So intent were his thoughts that he hadn't even heard her approach. He stood as she entered and watched as she set the boys' chaps on the desk. She looked up at him.

"I'm sorry about the things I said, Travis."

"Thank you. Did my anger scare you?"

"No. I deserved it."

Travis sighed. "The things I've said to you still stand, Rebecca. I still love you and always will, but I won't hold you any longer. If you want to leave, you can."

Rebecca could only stare at him.

"I can't imagine life without you, but it's obvious that you're miserable here. Right now I'm not certain how, but the boys and I would get along somehow."

Rebecca could hardly breathe. Was he sending her away?

"Please understand that I'm not sending you away," he went on, as if he'd heard her thoughts. "But I'm not going to tiptoe around you any longer. I'm a man, Rebecca—not some toy for you to play with and then get angry at and throw into a corner. I won't live with your sullen frowns and silent treatment any longer. I think you need to humble your heart before God. You don't believe that, but what you believe is not the main issue right now."

Rebecca, who thought all of their trouble was over religion, was surprised and confused by his words.

"The main issue," Travis went on, "is the wall you've put up between us. And it's going to stay up as long as you won't talk to me. This is not an ultimatum about agreeing with my spiritual beliefs, but it is about your anger and silence. If you hate me that much, Rebecca, I'll take you back to Pine Grove."

"I don't hate you, Travis," she whispered.

"You can understand how I would think that you did."

She nodded, more miserable than she'd ever been in her life.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" he asked gently.

"I think so. In order for me to stay, I have to go to church with you."

"No, Rebecca, that's not what I said. But I can't live with a woman who acts like she hates me and makes no effort whatsoever in our marriage. I've done it now for months, and I'm not going to do it any longer. I thought I was good for you, Rebecca, but I'm beginning to doubt my own sanity. If you don't care enough about me to give yourself to this marriage, then you'd probably be better off on your own."

Rebecca had to force her hands to her side or she would have wrung them frantically.

"Is it now or never?" she asked,

"Not at all. I just want you to understand what we need to do. You don't have to decide this minute, nor
Does everything need to become perfect overnight but the door to sharing with each other has got to be open or we might as well call it a day."

"Can I think about this for a time, Travis?"

"Take all the lime you need, Rebecca. And I'll say it again in case it's slipped your mind: 1 love you
-and
would love for
you to come back to me."

Rebecca saw the truth in his eyes, but she was so full of emotion she couldn't speak. That, along with the fact that the boys could be heard coming from the kitchen, caused her to nod and slip out of
the room. Travis heard the boys greet their mother and even heard her answer in a normal voice, but he knew she felt like dying inside. His heart felt much the same.

Rebecca rose early Saturday morning and dressed in her new clothing. She had spent hours thinking about her talk with Travis, and she knew that she would never choose to leave him. It would have been easy to grow angry with the way he'd laid down the law, but the thought of returning to Pine Grove, with or without the children, was incomprehensible. The amazing realization for her was that it wasn't the house in Pine Grove or the distance: It was Travis. As angry as he made her at times, he alone was the reason she must never leave. She knew that the pain and hurt between them were not going to magically disappear, but she had to stay. She had to stay and try.

With her mind made up, she went downstairs, hoping to find Travis in the kitchen. He was there, and she approached slowly. Travis, who had done little but pray since Rebecca left his office, saw a change in her face even before he spotted the clothing. However, the new outfit gave him a place to start.

"The clothes fit," he said, standing when she came into the kitchen.