Once in a Blue Moon (39 page)

“And really, Hannah,
it’s not your problem either. Let’s both of us stay here in your
kitchen until he leaves. If he comes over and knocks again we won’t
answer the door. It might hurt his feelings, but surely he’ll get
the hint after a while and realize that he’s not welcome by either
one of us.”

Melissa shrugged again.
“If he doesn’t, we can have Richard beat him up when he gets home
tonight. Jed is so big and awkward he’ll get flattened to the dirt
in no time. That’ll get rid of him for sure.”

Hannah looked agonized.
“Melissa, how can you be so cruel?”

“Cruel?” Melissa
widened her eyes. “You were the one who turned him away first. He
was practically in tears when he came back to tell me about it. And
he’d shaved and everything just so he could court you. I’m just
following your example because I’m your friend. I thought you
wanted to get rid of him?”

Miserably, Hannah
looked at the ground. “He was crying? Perhaps I could have been
kinder. I’ll just go see him and make sure he’s all right; that he
has something to eat.”

Melissa pasted on her
best dubious expression. “Well, okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn
you. Feed him and you may never get rid of him; it’s your
call.”

Melissa watched her go.
She shook her head and a small chuckle escaped.

They’d be married by
Christmas.

With a sigh she sank
down onto a chair, placed her chin in her palm and watched Hannah
through the window as she quickly turned out of sight.

Then she rubbed her
temples and acknowledged that the door to all the thoughts she’d
hidden away for so many years had opened just a crack, and now all
those thoughts were coming out, pell-mell, and she couldn’t stop
them.

Tears welled in her
eyes. Her poor, misguided Mom. There had been a few men who’d
treated her decently over the years, but very few, and not for very
long.

Had her mom been like
Hannah? There were a lot of similarities: their fear, their
dependancy on others, the aura of fragility. If the widow hadn’t
found Hannah and taken her in, would she have found another abusive
relationship? Probably. Melissa’s mother had drifted that way for
years. And then she’d died.

Eyes completely blurred
with tears, Melissa stared out the window blankly. Hannah hadn’t
deserved to be abused; neither had Melissa’s mother. A tear fell
down Melissa’s cheek.

And neither had
Melissa.

The widow walked over
by the corral, Jessica in tow. Melissa’s eyes widened at the
distraction and she wiped at her cheeks.

What
on earth were
they
doing together?

Melissa dried her eyes
and allowed herself to be distracted. She didn’t want to think
about her mother anymore. The problems Melissa had endured as a
child didn’t belong in the here and now. They’d been buried for a
long time and needed to stay that way.

Her brows drew
together. What was the widow doing with Jessica anyway? No doubt
the old biddy was forcing her to work. Elbow firmly on the table,
chin resting on her palm, Melissa drummed her fingers against her
cheek. She really ought to rescue her daughter.

She didn’t move, but
watched as they turned the corner and headed toward the front of
the house. Taking a deep breath, she finally pushed away from the
table and went to meet them in the parlor. When they didn’t enter,
she moved aside a handful of lace and looked out the window.

The two sat together on
the bench under the big shade tree, heads bent close as they
studied something in the widow’s palm. Jessica was grinning.

Against her will, one
corner of Melissa’s mouth quirked up. Whatever they were doing,
they made a charming picture. Jessica’s bright blonde locks lay
against the widow’s faded light hair and the contrast of smooth
against wrinkled skin had Melissa picturing an ad campaign for
silk.

Both became animated as
they conversed, and Melissa could see their aqua eyes, very similar
in color, flashing. They looked like a portrait of a grandmother
and granddaughter. Jessica no doubt missed her grandma and was
enjoying herself, so Melissa reconsidered interrupting. She’d just
leave the two of them together and go out through the kitchen.

Melissa turned, and as
she did, her gaze slid to the photo of the young Jane Taggart
resting on the bureau. Startled, Melissa realized that, in looks,
the young woman could be Jessica’s older sister.

She lifted the curtain
again and her gaze returned to Jessica and the widow, then slid
back to the photo, and the hair on the back of Melissa’s neck stood
up.

Jessica had never
looked like anyone in the family. Melissa had always assumed she
took after Melissa’s father’s side. But Jessica sure as heck looked
a lot like the widow.

Could...? Melissa shook
her head. She was being ridiculous. It was impossible. But--

Sudden insight washed
through Melissa. What if the widow had been pregnant when she’d
come to this little town all those years ago? Sully had sent Jane
to his wife. Melissa put a hand to her mouth as everything suddenly
became crystal clear. Sully and the widow had had a child together.
That child had been raised by Louisa and Sully.

Wide-eyed, Melissa
considered the implications. That would mean that, in addition to
Richard and the kids being descended from Sully, they were also
related to the widow.

Melissa automatically
shook her head. No way. She was up in the night.

But
the widow
had
been very interested in Sully’s son. And it would also
explain the widow’s sudden interest in Jessica, as well as the way
Sully protected the widow.

Perhaps it was time to
pay Sully another visit. And this time she wasn’t leaving without
answers.

* * *

Melissa switched the
heavy cloth bag to her right shoulder, and, with a clang of metal,
the contents banged against her backside as she shifted the burden
to make it more comfortable.

The bag contained old
horseshoes, a belt buckle, a horse-bit with reins attached, and a
couple of Time-Life books one of the Cowboy Wives didn’t want
anymore. Some advertisements, utensils, a bowie knife, a newspaper,
and a letter Melissa had written completed the stash.

The combined weight bit
to her shoulder and after walking with it for a couple of miles,
the load was starting to weigh her down. The weather was mild, but
sweat trickled its way down her back and she felt like a pack
mule.

Richard had better
appreciate this. She was going to bury the junk on Sully’s property
and give Richard the stuff when they got home. Maybe all at once,
or perhaps as Christmas and birthday gifts. She hadn’t decided
yet.

Melissa tried to
concentrate on the ache in her back rather than the conversation to
come, but didn’t have much luck. She wanted to know the truth. Had
the widow been pregnant? Did Sully and the widow have a child
together? A child Sully had kept? Raised? Talked his wife into
raising?

Were Richard and the
children related to both Sully and the widow? For some reason, the
answers seemed important, but she wasn’t sure how she was going to
broach the subject with Sully. As she topped the rise, Sully’s dog
ran over, jumped up and slobbered on her neck. Melissa shoved him
off and patted his head as she scanned the area.

The usual assortment of
animals roamed the yard: chickens, the goat, a few ducks and a cat.
She spotted Sully using a pitchfork to throw hay into the horse
corral and decided she might as well get the conversation over
with.

She marched down the
slight rise, over to the corral, and dropped her bag on the ground
with a loud clank--barely missing a chicken--and plunked both hands
on her hips.

She took a deep breath.
“You had a child with Jane Taggert.”

Mid-turn, Sully’s mouth
fell open as he stared at her dumb-founded. “What?”

“I said, you had
a--”

Sully started to laugh,
his gray beard trembling as he threw back his head. “I heard you. I
just couldn’t believe your words. My wife would have killed me dead
if I’d have so much as breathed on Janie.”

Melissa’s gaze dropped
to the ground and she tried to gather her thoughts. Had she gotten
everything wrong? Was the resemblance between the widow and Jessica
pure coincidence? Or would Sully’s determination to protect the
widow make him lie? Probably.

She tried again. “I
already know all about the widow. How she was pregnant and you sent
her out here to Louisa.”

In the process of
throwing more hay over the fence, Sully stilled. Slowly, he turned
to look at her. “Jane tell you all that?”

Feeling guilty about
reading Sully’s private letter to Louisa, Melissa only nodded.

Sully sighed and set
the hay down. “Then why didn’t she tell you I’m not the father of
her child?”

“The
subject didn’t come up.” He still hadn’t confirmed anything and she
wasn’t leaving until she knew the truth. Deciding to press her
luck, she stated, “You raised the child and I simply assumed
you
were
the
father.”

Sully grimaced in
disgust. “Women folk don’t know when to keep their blasted mouths
shut.” He started pitching hay over the fence again.

She was correct. She
knew it. Following her instincts, Melissa simply waited.

After a moment, Sully
stopped throwing hay, leaned on his pitchfork and met her gaze.
“Colonel Carleton, my commanding officer, did not behave like a
gentleman toward Janie. When Janie’s husband came home, he about
killed her. The first time I met her she was staggering toward the
fort with a battered face, a broken nose, cracked ribs and eyes
swollen shut. She was about seven months along.”

A
tingle worked its way up the back of Melissa’s neck. The
widow
did
have a
baby. But it wasn’t Sully’s?

Sully looked at the
ground. “She was still in danger from her husband, so I sent her
home to my wife for care. I didn’t even know if she’d survive the
trip.” Sully stared off into the distance.

Not wanting to distract
him in any way, Melissa didn’t move.

“There was a big to-do
back at the fort. No one knew where she’d gone and her husband went
wild and got himself killed in a saloon fight.” Sully focused on
Melissa’s face once more. “Colonel Carleton did the killing.”

He shook his head.
“After the baby came, Janie was unable to support the child. We’d
never had any children of our own, and Louisa was about forty-one
by that time, so we weren’t really expecting to ever have any.”

Sully used the back of
his hand to wipe his forehead. “But my wife wanted the baby, and
Janie couldn’t take care of the child, but wanted to know the babe
was safe, so they reached an agreement. Louisa took in the child
and Janie left. When I got home from the war, I had me a son. We
raised him as our own.”

“You adopted the
widow’s son? But why did the widow give him up? She obviously loved
him.”

“I told you. She
couldn’t take care of him then. Janie disappeared for a while, and
about five years later, tracked us down even thought we’d moved on
by that time. After a while, she married up with old man
MacPherson. It made Louisa crazy. Those two women hated each other
from the moment Janie laid eyes on our five-year-old boy.”

Sully gripped the pole
of the pitchfork. “About ten years later, Janie’s husband died, and
not too long after, so did Louisa. Janie never did have another
child, and once Louisa was gone she told the boy the truth. He
didn’t take it too well; disappeared.”

Sully turned away to
scrape at the edges of the hay pile with the prongs of the
pitchfork. “I suspect he’s dead now.” Sully’s voice cracked on the
last word.

Sully had loved his
adopted son. Loved him still, after all this time. Unexpectedly,
overpowering jealousy swamped Melissa. She wished even one of her
parents had loved her the way Sully loved his child.

Melissa willed back the
tears in her eyes. She might be pitiable, but Sully didn’t need to
be. “Sully, your son isn’t dead. He’s living in Europe right
now.”

Sully turned to face
her. He looked at her like she was crazy. “What? How could you know
that?” Anger crumpled his face. “Did Janie say something? Does she
know something and hasn’t told me?”

Melissa shook her head
and took a deep breath. “Sully, do you remember the day we
arrived?”

His brows drew
together. “Sure I do.”

“We traveled through
time to get here; from the future. We were outside during a blue
moon and were sent here to this time. That’s why we showed up with
no clothes other than what we were wearing. That’s why we had no
possessions with us. We were on your property, because in the
future, that’s where we live.”

Sully stared at her
blankly.

“We’re related to you
through your son. He’ll come back here to settle by 1890 with his
wife and children.” Melissa suddenly realized that Sully wasn’t
blood related to her family. Inexplicably, that fact made her
sad.

Sully’s mouth worked as
he seemed to struggle for words.

“Are you feeling
poorly?”

Melissa shook her head.
“He ends up settling in town and starting a business. He paints as
a hobby. He inherits this land from you and it gets passed down for
a few generations until we build a home on it.”

Melissa paused for a
moment, then inhaled. “The next blue moon is at the end of this
month. My family is going back home, to our own time.”

Disbelief etched
Sully’s face.

Melissa paused.
“Jessica looks like the widow. Does she also resemble your
son?”

Sully’s eyes widened
and his expression wavered, flashing between joy to doubt and back.
Finally, face screwed up and voice cracking, he asked, “Andy is
coming home?”