Whispers of Moonlight (20 page)

"Look at yourself," Rebecca, now dry-eyed, hissed at her own reflection. "You've enjoyed his attention, and now you know what he wants. He wants what all men want! When are you going to grow up and face facts?"

With a move that was almost vicious, Rebecca grabbed her thick blonde hair and scraped it back away from her face. The style was too severe—it hardened her eyes and made her face look thin—but she found a piece of string and ruthlessly tied the hair back. She glared at her own reflection, vowing not to cry again.

How stupid to react the way she had. What did she care if Dan desired her? Well, let him. No man was going to use her ever again. Not Dan, Travis, or anyone. Ever! Dan's knock cut into her angry musings, but Rebecca remained stubbornly silent.

"Rebecca." The knock sounded again. "Are you in there?"

Still she stood mute.

"I want to talk to you."

"Well, I
don't
want to talk to you," she told him when she couldn't hold the words in any longer.

"That's too bad," Dan spoke sternly. "If you're not dressed, you better get behind the screen, because I'm coming in "

The door opened before Rebecca could move or protest. She was across the room from Dan but showed her disapproval by moving to the window and looking down at the backyard. The door did not close, but Rebecca knew Dan stood looking at her.

"You could have just told me about your husband and the baby." His voice was soft.

"It's none of your business." Her retort was deliberately brutal.

"Well, I'm making it my business."

"You have no right," Rebecca told him, spinning from the glass. "It's none of your concern."

"Everything about you concerns me, Rebecca, and this is no different."

His tone and the look in his eyes completely disarmed her. For a moment she stared at him. Dan stared right back.

"I want you to take it easy," he finally said.

"You're not going to tell me what to do, Dan."

"As long as you take it easy, I won't, but I meant what I said. You're going to take it slow."

"And I meant what I said, you're not—"

"I'll tell everyone the baby's mine and that we're getting married if you don't do as I tell you."

Rebecca was thunderstruck. Her mouth opened but then closed again. He could do it. She knew he could do exactly as he said, and everyone would believe him. She didn't want that. She had been prepared to stand up to him, but she was helpless against this. The fire left her in a hurry. Watching her shoulders slump, Dan thought he'd gone too far, but when he went to her side she did not push away.

"I'm thinking of you, and I'm thinking of the baby, Rebecca." His voice was no longer stern. "I don't want you to take on any more than you
are right now."

Thinking logically for the first time in hours, Rebecca saw the wisdom of his
words. After all, she still had extra laundry to do as well as Angel's jobs. At
last she nodded silently and let her eyes stray to the window again. Dan wanted
above all else to take her into his arms, but he restrained himself. Maybe in
time he could still find a way. Maybe in time he could show her how he felt.

To cover his emotions, he cleared his throat and said, "What did you do to your hair, anyway?"

Rebecca's chin rose in the air, a gesture Dan had never seen before.

"I pulled it back. Do you like it?"

"No, I don't," he said honestly but kindly.

"Then I'll leave it up," she snapped. Dan had to work at not smiling. Something told him he was headed into a new phase with Rebecca, one that might not be all that fun. However, nothing short of a broken neck would cause him to miss it.

"You don't have any color in your face at all," Angel commented on Thursday afternoon. "Why not let
me use a little tint from my jars upstairs?"

"It doesn't matter," Rebecca told her succinctly. "I'm not a hostess at the Silver Bell."

"Meaning?" Angel pressed her, and Rebecca turned to look at her across the dining room.

"Angel." She sounded as though she were addressing a child. "What
does it matter what I look like for dinner with friends? In your job you have to look good. I don't."

"But you have to care, Becky. I mean, your hair and everything—it's like you no longer care at all."

Rebecca put her hands on her hips. "Shall we talk about what my vanity got me, Angel? Pregnant, that's what! And Dan wanting to kiss me besides. Now, I'm not conceited enough to think that Preston is going to drop at my feet, but neither am I going to doll myself up because he's coming over."

"But Dan's coming too, and I—"

"Dan sees me every day, Angel." Rebecca was bent over the table and not really attending Angel, "and knows what I look like. Beyond that, I don't care. In fact, I may take pains to look even worse."

"What do you mean?"

"Bruno seems to think I need company too."

"Bruno? Bruno who works at the Silver Bell?"

"That's the one. He winked at me when he picked his shirts up this morning." Rebecca turned to look at Angel. "And that was with my hair pulled back!"

Rebecca spun back to the table, and Angel covered the smile that spread over her mouth. What a changed girl Rebecca was from even the beginning of the week! Monday night she realized she was in a family way, and by Thursday she was telling both Dan and Angel what she would and would not do. She did laundry all day Wednesday, cleaned the house Thursday,
and
prepared a gorgeous supper for four.

It concerned Angel that Rebecca had begun to look at men as the enemy, but wasn't she like that herself? She and Dan had been friends for a long time, and Preston had always dealt honestly with her, but there weren't many men she trusted.

With Preston coming to mind, Rebecca and her situation momentarily faded from Angel's thoughts. Had she really seen something different in Preston's face on Monday night? It was so hard to know. Nothing seemed to have altered between them as she worked all week, but he had been so ready to accept her dinner invitation that night. They had never socialized before, not in five years' time, but now, with little or no warning, he'd been more than willing to come to dinner. Angel mentally shrugged. She was getting fanciful. He was probably just starved for a home-cooked meal.

16

Preston was a man who liked to have a cigar after a good meal, but this afternoon he refrained. Angel wouldn't have batted an eyelash, and Dan might have joined him, but Rebecca did indeed look like a woman who needed tender care. He thought she would be much more attractive with her hair down, but as it was, she was very lovely and brought out feelings in him that he hadn't known existed.

What had Angel said? Something about the kid sister she never had. Preston now knew what she meant. He hadn't expected to share Angel's feelings, but in some ways it was a relief to have Rebecca distract him. Otherwise he would have been gawking at his hostess. Because he and Angel had never socialized, he had never seen her like she looked this afternoon.

There had never been a time when she didn't seem alluring, but this afternoon, dressed in a simple cotton dress, her hair pulled back at the sides but not piled atop her head, she was so approachable that Preston nearly embraced her. He could almost feel how wonderful it would be to pull her close and bury his hands in the thick fall of her hair.

He realized suddenly that he had been staring at her a little too long. He forced his gaze around the room and again felt surprise. Having Angel greet him in a cotton gown with her hair around her shoulders was hard enough to take in, but her house was another story all together. It was remarkably homey. Preston thought he could have laid money on the fact that it would be elegant like the Silver Bell, but nothing could be further from me truth. There were simple lace curtains on the windows, and the little
end tables had doilies on them like ones he might have found at his grandma's house. There were pillows on the chairs and sofa, ruffled edges and all.

"Coffee, Preston?" Angel stood at his elbow and asked. He pulled his eyes from the room to focus on the woman who occupied much of his thoughts.

"Thank you." He knew he sounded stiff, but years of covering his feelings did not dissolve in a week.

"Sugar?" Angel asked, and he looked on in amazement when she blushed.

Angel gave a nervous glance. "I guess I don't know if you like anything in your coffee or not."

"Just black, thank you." This time he managed to sound a little less formal.

Watching them from across the room, Rebecca wondered at the interchange. Just as Rebecca had become more bold in the past week, Angel had become more tender. However, Rebecca never thought to
see her flustered or blushing. She glanced at Dan, who warned her with his eyes to stay quiet.

"I'd better get changed for work," Angel said suddenly, fully expecting Preston to say he was going on ahead of her. He surprised her.

"I'll wait for you. Angel. You go ahead, Dan, and if anyone is looking for me, tell them I'll be right along."

"All right, Preston. Thank you for supper, Rebecca. You've learned a lot in a few weeks."

Rebecca smiled at him. "I think all the credit can be given to my instructor."

Dan smiled as well, kissed her cheek, and a few seconds later went on his way. Rebecca turned. She was alone with Preston. She took a seat across from him, thinking comfortably how easy it was for a woman when she didn't care whether or not she attracted a man.

"I forgot to ask you, Preston," she began. "Do you own the Silver Bell or just manage it?"

"I own it," he told her kindly. "I didn't start it, but I own it."

"How did you come to own it?"

"In a poker game," he said easily, and Rebecca felt her jaw drop.

Preston laughed. "I think I've surprised you."

"You have," she admitted. "I didn't think that kind of thing really happened; I mean, you hear about it, but it seems too fabulous to be real."

Preston was still smiling. "It's not quite as glamorous as it sounds. The Bell was little more than a soup kitchen when I won it. It was called the Silver Spur, but I thought the name Silver Bell had more class. I added the bar and stage."

Rebecca shook her head. "I know so little about business. Are some times of the year busier than others?"

"Absolutely. When it's cold, and no one wants to search in the snow for gold or silver, things are much busier."