Wings of a Dove (63 page)

    But I can look into your eyes no longer, James. They're closed forever, and I mourn their loss as I mourn the loss of your gentle strength, your understanding, your love, constant, never
failinga
love free of betrayal.

    You never forgot or forgave Delaney for that last night. I forgave him, James, but I cannot forget.

    Hear me, James. Please hear me as I add one more pledge to the many honored between us. I'll hold true to my word, as you were true to every promise made to me. I won't deprive you of your daughter because you're no longer with us. Margaret will always be yours, and no word other than that will ever pass my lips.

    I miss you, James. I love you. Hear me, James. Please hear me.

    There was no response, and Allie closed her eyes.

    Sounds of restlessness from the room next door caused a new anxiety to touch Allie's mind. She knew the danger in that restlessness, and she was suddenly aware that the time for mourning had ceased. She knew what she had to do.

    His shaggy gray brows tightly knit in a frown, Dr. Willis scowled in Allie's direction. The bright sunlight of midmorning was at her back where she stood opposite him in the hallway,    outside Margaret's room, and he strained to read her expression. The attempt proving futile, he gave his head a short negative shake.

    ''It's my opinion that it would be a mistake to take Margaret home to the farm at this time, Allie. She's coming along very well, but she still needs careful observation and treatment."

    "We have a very competent physician at home, Dr. Willis. Surely Dr. Peters will be able to follow through with the care Dr. Lindstrom has prescribed."

    "Allie…" Dr. Willis took her hand. "You've asked my professional opinion, and I've given it to you. The operation Dr. Lindstrom performed on Margaret is extremely new, and its results are still unpredictable." Pausing again as Allie's fine lips compressed in a straight, unsmiling line, he slid his arm around her narrow waist, coaxing her along with him as he turned toward the staircase. It occurred to him that her waist was not much broader than her child's, and he marveled again at the petite stature of this lovely young woman.

    They neared the head of the staircase and Dr. Willis turned Allie toward him, grateful that the light streaming through the transom over the front door was bright enough for him to see her face more clearly as he inquired, "Allie dear, it isn't difficult to see that something is worrying you. Can't you tell me what it is?"

    Her unusual dark eyes were troubled, and Allie avoided his gaze as she replied. "I've been in this house too long, Dr. Willis. It's been a month since James's death, and it's time for me to go home. Margaret and I are a burden on Delaney. I don't want it to be that way. I have my own life and Delaney has his."

    "I doubt that Mr. Marsh considers either you or Margaret a burden."

    Allie's frown darkened, and Dr. Willis had the impression his well-intentioned words had not reassured her. Despairing at his clumsiness, Dr. Willis urged Allie down the staircase beside him, turning toward her when they reached the front door. He gave a short sigh.

    "If you're uncomfortable here, dear, I'm certain I can find accommodations for you near the hospital."

    Immediately realizing the error of his words as an embarrassed color touched Allie's pale cheeks, Dr. Willis again cursed his stupidity.

    "At one time that might have been possible," Allie replied, "but my financial affairs are in disorder right now. I'm not certain I have sufficient funds to allow it."

    Knowing instinctively any offer of aid would be resolutely refused, Dr. Willis shrugged. "Then I don't see that you have any choice but to remain here for another few weeks at least. It won't be that difficult, will it, dear?"

    Instant denial of his casual assumption flickered in the depths of the dark eyes holding his, and Dr. Willis became acutely aware of the control behind Allie's short reply.

    "No, I suppose not."

    A few moments later, his footsteps echoing against the sidewalk as he made his way home, Dr. Willis found himself frowning once more. Tipping his hat to a passing matron, he climbed the staircase to his front door.

    It occurred to him that he really must be getting old if he had forgotten how very difficult and painful the intricacies of life and love could sometimes be. But he was not too old for one thing to be very clear. Delaney Marsh would have to tread very lightly with the lovely Mrs. Allie Case right now. If he did not, he just might lose her.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

    At the sound of Margaret's soft laughter, Allie raised her head from the mending in her lap and looked toward her daughter's bed. Margaret turned her head from the book in front of her with another short exclamation that elicited a chuckle from Delaney, who sat beside her. The quiet exchange between them continued, and a sharp bittersweet pain squeezed at Allie's heart.

    The old animosity and resentment between Margaret and Delaney were a thing of the past. Unobserved, Allie allowed her gaze to linger on the two heads almost touching over the brightly illustrated pages of the book. The contrast between Margaret's silver-blond hair and Delaney's thick ebony mane was as extreme as the comparison between Margaret's delicate bone structure and Delaney's broad masculine frame. No one would ever suspect the blood of one ran in the veins of the other.

    And no one would ever know.

    The flood of sadness following that thought snapped Allie from her reverie, guiltily restoring to her mind the decision she had made only a few nights before. She and her daughter would
 
   remain in Delaney's house only until Margaret was officially released from the care of Dr. Lindstrom's assistants. It would not be much longer.

    That thought afforded her little consolation as harsh memories returned. The dimly lit hallway of the Case farmhouse was as clear in her mind's eye as was the image of Sarah, stepping out of the shadows to confront James and her as they returned from the snow-covered yard. Sarah's biting words again spilled across her mind, a virulent tirade that cut her still. She closed her eyes at the picture of Sarah's bitter fury as she pushed her apron aside to expose the swell of her distended abdomen.

    Delaney's child.

    Allie's world had crumbled around her then, and she was acutely aware that had it not been for James, she would not have survived.

    Another bubble of laughter brought Allie back from her sober memories, turning her toward the bed where Delaney patiently awaited his turn to read. Deeply engrossed, he did not see the pain in Allie's eyes as he gently smoothed a wisp of hair from Margaret's cheek. Delaney's tenderness was a drug that became vital to life. It created a dependence that weakened the spirit. But that tenderness did not change the basic truth that if she could not trust Delaney's fidelity, she could not trust his love.

    Margaret read the concluding lines of the familiar story, and Allie fought to shake the effects of her sobering thoughts. Forcing a smile to her face, she placed her mending on the table beside her and drew herself to her feet. The flicker of concern in Delaney's gaze as he turned toward her revealed only too clearly that she had not been entirely successful in chasing shadows of the haunting memories from her eyes as she spoke.

    "Have you thanked Delaney for reading that book with you, Margaret?"

    "Yes, Mama."

    "Then it's time to go to sleep."

    Taking a moment to adjust the coverlet across her daughter's chest, Allie leaned down and kissed her cheek with a soft, "Good night, dear."

    Allie's throat tightened as Delaney leaned down to kiss Margaret as well, and she was acutely aware of the hand Delaney rested at her waist as he guided her toward the door.

      In the hallway, Delaney turned her toward him. Her emotions unsteady, Allie averted her gaze only to feel Delaney's hand cup her chin, raising her gaze to meet his. She resisted his touch and his eyes clouded.

    "Allie, what's the matter? I know something's wrong. You slip farther and farther away from me each day. Can't you talk to me?"

    Allie's smile was stiff. "It's nothing, Delaney. I'm tired, that's all. I'm going to bed."

    Delaney nodded as she turned toward her room. Her conviction firm, she closed the door behind her.

    Casually dressed in shirtsleeves, his head bared to the growing warmth of the early morning sun, Delaney turned down another nameless street. He had been awake most of the night. Finally giving up in his efforts to sleep, he had slipped out of the house at dawn with no particular destination in mind. He had been walking ever since, the turmoil in his mind fueling his rapid step.

    He was losing Allie.

    A knife of pain twisted again in Delaney's gut at his acknowledgment of that reality, and he felt the press of panic. He recalled the previous night and the sudden distance Allie had forced between them as they left Margaret's room. He had searched his mind in an attempt to recall a word or an action that might have triggered her withdrawal, but he had been unsuccessful.

    He was helpless against her coldness, the impenetrable barrier Allie had erected between them, and he knew with an instinct that was inborn that time was running short. If he didn't identify the cause for her withdrawal soon, it would be too late.

    Raking his hand through his hair, Delaney rested his palm at the base of his neck, massaging the knot of tension there. What had happened between them? Allie and he had never had trouble talking. Allie's heart had always been open to him. But somehow he knew that the change that had come about in her since James's death wasn't due to grief alone.

    A gradual anger infusing his mind, Delaney slowed his step. The hardening of his features as he drew himself erect, the growing determination obvious in his stance, attracted cautious    glances from passersby, but Delaney was unconscious of their stares.

    Turning abruptly, he headed home, covering the sidewalk in long, rapid strides. He had come to a decision. He would put to rest the discomfort between Allie and him today this morning or he would know the reason why.

    The house was unnaturally quiet as Allie slipped another pin into her hair and gave her reflection in the bedroom mirror a quick glance. A pale, stubborn wisp slipped free from the tightly bound coil, and she experienced a familiar annoyance. Finally securing the wayward strand, she turned away from the revealing glass.

    She was too pale, and she was too thin. Her black mourning dress covered her from her throat to the toes of her narrow leather slippers, its short sleeves partially baring arms that looked like two white sticks protruding from the dark fabric. The sight was unappealing, but she spared it minimal concern. She had more important things on her mind.

    Taking up a packet of papers from the nightstand, she made another attempt to decipher the complicated legal terms that so confused her. It seemed somehow profane for the total sum of James's life's work to have been reduced to an endless progression of legal papers. Allie shivered at the thought. She was too far away from the warm earth of the farm, the sweetly scented air, and the quiet beauty that surrounded it. She needed to return and allow her memories to take on a physical presence so she might find a peace that was absent here.

    Her mind returned to the previous night, and Allie felt a familiar tension. The silent appeal in Delaney's eyes had almost been her undoing. She was too close to him. His distress inflicted painful wounds inside her, but it had always been that way. She had always suffered Delaney's pain, and she supposed she always would. But there had only been one time that she had not believed she would survive the pain her love for Delaney had caused her, and she was determined she would never suffer that anguish again.

    Forcing her mind back to the papers in her hand, Allie strained over the unfamiliar terms, knowing Margaret's and her future hung in the balance. A sudden noise from below startled her   from her thoughts, and she walked swiftly into the hall. She jumped with a start at Delaney's unexpected appearance halfway up the stairs.

    "Oh, Delaney! You frightened me. I heard something and I knew no one was home."

    Continuing toward her, Delaney stepped up onto the landing, his dark brows knit in a frown. "Where is everyone?"

    "Dr. Willis came by and took Margaret for an outing in his carriage. He said she needs some diversion and some air. Mary's off today, and Olga is out shopping. I've been going over some legal papers that just arrived in the mail."

    Delaney's frown darkened, and Allie's heart began a ragged beat as he walked closer. He halted abruptly within a few feet of her, and Allie steeled herself against his visible torment.

    "Allie, we have to talk."

    Knowing a sudden need for escape, Allie shook her head. "I… I'm busy now, Delaney."

    Her attempt to turn away was halted by Delaney's sudden grip on her arm. Forcing herself to remain calm as he turned her back toward him, Allie met his pensive scrutiny without a smile.

    "Why are you doing this to me, Allie?"

    The pain in Delaney's voice squeezed her heart. "Please, Delaney, I'd like to finish reading these papers."