Devil Moon (15 page)

"I don't know, babe. The last time I had poison ivy I swelled up like a toad and became a mass of running sores. I think that might spoil the superman image I'm trying to maintain here. And I'm likely to get grouchy as hell."

Maddie set her shoulders in resolution. "I'll take my chances."

She coaxed him from the fishing site into the car and dropped him off at their quaint wooden cabin nestled among the pines. Next, she headed into the one-horse town in search of Benadryl, baking soda, lotion and the makings for beef stew.

By the time she returned, his hair glistened with the residue moisture of his shower and he wore a Razorback T-shirt and clean sweat pants. The welts on his arms were still on the rise and interesting shades of red streaked his face. She wondered how long he'd be able to see through eyes that appeared to be swelling shut.

She hustled about the minute kitchen, unpacking groceries chattering inane small talk as he built a fire in the stone hearth. The cabin was nothing fancy, but cozy nonetheless, consisting of a main room, kitchen, bedroom and bath. A wooden dining table sat before a large picture window looking out onto an Ozark lake. Plush carpet, a sofa, two over stuffed chairs and a coffee table adorned the living area. The wooden panel walls featured posters of Arkansas wildlife and the native stone fireplace cast a warm glow into the room.

Phil chose a spot on the couch, sat cross-legged, and issued a disgruntled sigh as he sank into the cushion. Maddie approached him with two pills and a glass of water.

"Here's some Benadryl and I've got a cortisone lotion to rub on you," she said.

Taking her offering, he slugged back the pills. "I gotta warn you, these will probably knock me out."

"Then I'll put a pillow under your head and cover you with a blanket. Now peel off that shirt and let me apply this lotion."

Making a low growl, he obliged her, then paused. "Hey, this stuff is contagious. You probably shouldn't touch me."

"Nonsense. I'm impervious to poison ivy." She put out her hands. "See, I rolled in it, too, and have no reaction whatsoever. I wandered these woods everywhere as a girl and never had a problem. Poor Randy wasn't so lucky."

With that, she shook the bottle and splashed the cool liquid on a clean washcloth and began rubbing his chest and shoulders. He jumped when the wet cloth drenched his fiery skin, then closed his eyes and leaned back into the sofa.

Maddie swept lazy circles across his shoulders and pecs. "You have a wonderful chest."

"That's what all the girls say. Especially when it's covered in blisters."

"No, I mean it. You make me think of a great, warm, teddy bear." The thought ran through her mind like a forgotten memory.

Phil squinted at her through puffy lids. "You make me think of one of those expensive porcelain dolls that only come in limited editions." His voice dropped. "Rare and beautiful."

Her hand froze over his sternum. "Why, Coach Wilcox, that's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."

"Yeah, well," his voice dropped to an embarrassed gruff, "it must be the drugs making me punchy."

"You're not as tough and callous as you pretend to be. I've seen the way you look at your daughter."

Phil smiled. "Melissa…she's something. Always has a joke or piece of trivia on her mind. Yesterday, my phone rang a couple of hours before the game. She says, 'What do you call four bullfighters stuck in quick sand?' 'I don't know, what?' 'Quatro sink-o.'"

They laughed at the corny joke as Phil continued. "Then she said, 'Good luck with the game, Daddy.' She's called me 'Daddy' twice this week. First time in six years."

A lump rose in Maddie's throat. "Do you regret the divorce?"

Phil sighed deeply. "I regret my mistakes. I suppose I regret the marriage. Pam and I were too young, too damned stupid to be married. We looked good together, liked to party. A lot of my marriage is lost in a boozy haze. When I'd come home from practice, Pam would have a shaker of drinks ready and sometimes we'd have ridiculous arguments. We spent all the money that came in. I was making big bucks and we thought it would last forever. Bought fancy cars, but never let the Skylark go. Good thing as it turned out."

"And then you got injured."

"Yeah. 'Hitting bottom' they call it. I hit real hard. I went totally crazy one night on painkillers and alcohol. Smashed up a lot of Pam's beautiful things. She called the cops. I spent the weekend in jail. When I got out, she and Melissa were gone."

Maddie placed a hand gently on his shoulder. "Is that when you joined AA?"

"No, I wasn't that smart. I wallowed for a while. Pam filed for divorce and lived with a linebacker from Florida. I've got to admit her leaving made it easier to sober up. I think I drank as much to drown out her voice as deal with the pain. Anyway, I realized what a lousy father I'd been. I've been trying to make up for lost time, but until recently, I was sure I'd totally blown it."

Maddie gently rubbed down Phil's arm. "I've met Melissa, you know. I think she's delightful and she's very interested in you and the team."

He nodded. "Yeah, this move has been a good thing." He put a hand over hers. "In more ways than one."

They stared into each other's eyes, each stripped bare of pretension.

Phil cupped a hand into her hair. "What are you doing here with a broken down football player? You should be married to a doctor or maybe a senator heading up charities and getting your picture in the society page of the paper."

"I have a genetic flaw."

"What's that?"

"The women in my family seem to have a weakness for country boys from Arkansas."

"Sounds serious."

"There isn't any cure."

"Glad to hear it." Phil yawned. "Damn, babe, I'm getting so sleepy."

Maddie arranged a pillow at the end of the sofa and pushed him into a reclining position, then covered him with a blanket. The sound of his steady snoring soon filled the room.

She stood before the sofa studying her sleeping giant. A warm glow and a cold terror engulfed her at the same time. She could fall in love with this man, become totally, utterly vulnerable to ecstasy and pain. But love no longer meant the stuff of fairy tales to her, living happily ever after and all that rot. Love meant handing your heart over to another person to be squashed under his boot.

Phil already held some kind of power over her. She was here, wasn't she? Probably risking her job, certainly her reputation. And yet she wanted to be here. Wanted to run her fingers through his auburn hair. Wanted him to tease her and call her "cupcake." If she went with her feelings, would she regret it? Or was this another episode of going over the edge, giving into hormonal mania? Perhaps a good tumble in the sheets would get him out of her system.

No, she didn't work that way. She didn't separate sex and love. When she gave her body, her heart and soul went with it. Perhaps his tumble in the poison ivy was a warning. Turn back before it's too late. Heart danger zone.

Then he snuffled, wiggled his nose and looked so damned appealing despite the rash, she wanted to throw herself on top of him.

"Madeleine Harris, get a hold of yourself," she muttered and decided to get to work on that beef stew. The radio played country western softly as she chopped vegetables and put the meat in the pot to cook. She anticipated the sensual pleasure of breathing in the homey scents of browning beef and onions. Tipping her nose over the steaming concoction, she inhaled deeply and immediately felt a wave of nausea punch her stomach.

Gasping, she pressed a hand over her mouth and stumbled back from the stove. Taking deep breaths, she retreated to the dining table and grabbed the back of a chair for support. What in the world…?

How could she suddenly feel so sick? Then she remembered back to the early morning heaves in her bathroom. And how about the incredible sleepiness she'd been experiencing? A time bomb had been quietly counting down to detonation.

Tick, tick, tick. Kaboom!
Her mind exploded with certain knowledge.

She was pregnant.

The comfortable veil of denial she'd been living under for the past few weeks was blown to smithereens. The signs had been there, much as she'd chosen to ignore them—no period, increased fatigue, strange cravings.

She sat down in the hard chair and stared out the window, gulping air. The view of the fall colors and the shimmering lake dimly registered in her brain.
You're pregnant
. A breezy gust in the yard brought up a tiny twister, skittering leaves and twigs into a whirlwind across the uncut grass. Flying particles of debris matched the swirling emotions in her mind.

Pregnant—how wonderful! Every girl dreams about having a baby, the secret longing of every feminine heart. Pure joy rose like a bubble in her brain, only to burst against a wall of fear and embarrassment. Pregnant–how terrible! How stupid, how exciting, how overwhelming…how nauseating. She ran to the bathroom.

A few minutes later Maddie hovered at the sink in the small bathroom, rinsed out her mouth, splashed cool water on her face and gently dabbed it dry with a fluffy white washcloth. Madeleine Harris stared at her reflection in the medicine cabinet mirror, a single harsh light bulb exposing every pore and approaching wrinkle.

Did it show yet? Was there another telltale crease of truth etched in her skin? On top of earlier insecurities and indiscretions did SINGLE PREGNANT WOMAN blink on her forehead like a neon sign? She searched for signs of puffiness, but that probably came later, after she quit barfing several times a day.

All of a sudden her all-too-familiar schizophrenia overcame her.

"Stop! Wait! This can't be happening."

"
I'm having a baby! Isn't it great!"

"It's a disaster."

"It's a miracle."

Colliding emotions of panic and exhilaration sent her into a state of hyperventilation. Stumbling into the kitchen, she grabbed a paper bag from her shopping expedition and thrust it over her mouth. In with the good air, out with the bad air. It took several minutes to vanquish the tingling in her extremities.

She threw down the paper bag.
I can't stand being cooped up here one more minute
.

She pulled on Phil's windbreaker and stormed out into the autumn afternoon. Dry leaves crunched with each step as she made tracks toward the water, her mind working as quickly as her feet.

At that point her thinking processes short-circuited and became more like a kaleidoscope of images. Her mother's face would tighten and pinch when she learned of her daughter's unplanned pregnancy. Her down-home father might accuse her of "swallowing a watermelon like common trailer trash." She imagined herself slinking out of town to avoid knowing eyes, the Camry loaded with her computer, clothes and other personal belongings. She might give birth in the backseat, or out in the woods like the Indians in the movies.

Stopping at the water's edge, she forced herself to calm down. The wind-whipped lake resembled the sloshing of her disjointed thoughts. Looking to the horizon, she focused on a dim orb in the sky. Good God, it was only three o'clock in the afternoon, but there it hung above her—a three-quarter moon, deceptively innocent, an oversized rock floating across the heavens. But, she knew its power all too well.

Memory flashed back–white light against an inky backdrop. Hot, humid air; her skin dripping wet. Seduced by the stunning beauty of the cosmos and the shining summer moon, she'd answered a whispered call on a lonely night, taking for granted an illusion of privacy and seclusion. But by morning, sparkling dreams had turned to harsh reality. What felt like magical ethereal lovemaking had been nothing more than an anonymous sexual encounter. She'd been tricked by some weird, cosmic prank.

Her trickster was disguised now, resting in a sunlit sky, completely innocuous. But she recognized her tormentor just the same.

Maddie yelled as she lifted her arms high. "Damn you! Damn you, you
damned
Devil Moon!"

Chapter Nine

By the time you swear you're his,

Shivering and sighing

And he vows his passion is infinite, undying

Lady, make note of this:

One of you is lying

Returning to the cabin, temporarily spent of emotion, Maddie went back to the mindless task of cooking, carefully munching a saltine cracker to soothe her stomach. The chop and plunk of carrots and potatoes brought a sense of order to the chaotic workings of her mind. She really needed to start thinking in straight lines, form logical patterns.

Phil snorted loudly and turned over on the sofa, drawing Maddie's attention. Oh, good heavens, she couldn't face him at this moment. How could she explain it to him? She didn't understand it herself.

She crossed the small room and stood over him, so glad he still slept. She'd never be able to hide her jumbled emotions from him. He charged through her defenses like the ace quarterback he was. If he woke up now and read her expression, she'd confess to an unplanned pregnancy brought on by a one-night stand. Mortification chilled her soul.