The Lullaby Sky (20 page)

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Authors: Carolyn Brown

BOOK: The Lullaby Sky
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C
HAPTER
T
WENTY

H
annah closed her eyes, but she couldn’t sleep. She beat on her pillow and drew the sheet up over her shoulders, but that didn’t work. She tried counting backward from one hundred but all she saw was stacks of quilting squares. Finally, she threw back the covers and crawled out of bed to pace from one side of the room to the other. Jodie would leave on Saturday morning, and Travis would have no reason to be in the house. She’d miss Jodie but was glad that Travis had planned something to keep Sophie from being sad. Not even Lullaby would be able to keep her occupied after she had had a little girl to play with 24-7.

Pulling back the curtains and looking out over the backyard, she sighed loud enough that the moon and stars probably heard her. She finally pulled on a pair of jean shorts and tiptoed from her bedroom and out onto the front porch, where she sat down on the steps and looked up at the sky. Tonight it wasn’t a lullaby sky at all. Tonight there were as many questions in her heart as there were stars and she had no idea if there were even answers to be had.

“You couldn’t sleep, either?” Travis asked as he made his way from the screen door to sit beside her. He handed her a cold beer, and she took a long sip.

“I worry and try to analyze everything to death,” she answered. “It doesn’t make for a peaceful night’s rest sometimes.”

“We need to talk,” he said.

“It was just a kiss. It doesn’t have to be more than that. We are two adults.” She sipped her beer again, more to shut herself up than to actually drink.

“That’s not what we need to talk about,” he said. “But FYI, it was more to me than just a kiss. I’ve waited more than twenty years to kiss you, and it was a big deal to me.”

“Why did you wait so long?”

“Look at me. I’m just a lanky old carpenter with glasses and a horse face. You are movie-star beautiful, and you deserve something a hell of a lot better than me,” he said.

She laid a hand on his knee. “I’ve never saw you like that.”

“How do you see me now?” He turned to face her.

“I see strength. Your face has angles that a sculptor would die to be able to create. In or out of your glasses, I see soulful eyes that would melt a woman’s heart. And I know you have a heart of gold, Travis, so don’t ever talk about my friend like that again.” She smiled.

“Is that all I am? A friend?”

“Do you want to be more?” She held her breath and hoped that she knew the answer.

“I have for years and years.”

She reached for his hand and laced her small fingers in his big, callused ones. “I need some time.”

“I’m more than willing to wait, as long as you’ll tell me if someone else comes along.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed each knuckle.

“I promise I will, but I don’t think you have a thing to worry about,” she said breathlessly.

“We should talk about another thing.” Travis chose his next words carefully and slowly. “You ever read anything by Teresa Walters?”

“Just everything she’s ever written. She may be my favorite romantic suspense author. I absolutely love her. On one of the rare occasions when I was in Dallas with Marty, I got to go to one of her book signings. You can find that book in the old antique secretary in the living room. I didn’t even read it but bought another one at Walmart so I wouldn’t break the back binding on the signed one. Why would you ask that?”

He squeezed her hand. “Because I am Teresa Walters.”

Hannah’s mind did a couple of quick spins trying to figure out what he’d just said. He couldn’t be Teresa, because she had bright-red hair, blue eyes, and a round face, and she was short, like Hannah. There was no way he could be her even in drag. So why would he say that?

“When my first book hit it so big eight years ago, my agent wanted me to do all that promo work, and I just couldn’t. I’m not cut out for that kind of stuff, so we hired a model and she signs books, smiles pretty, and is the face on the back of my books,” Travis said.

“You write romance?” Hannah gasped.

He dropped her hand and wrapped both of his around his beer bottle. “I knew it would make a difference. You’ll never look at me the same now, but I couldn’t keep the secret from you any longer.”

“No, I won’t look at you the same. Now I’ll be looking at you in total awe, Travis. My God, you are amazing,” she said.

He whipped around to stare at her. “You are the inspiration for Harley O’Rourke.”

“No way! She’s fearless.” Hannah could feel her eyes getting wider and wider.

“Yes, you are, always have been. So you aren’t going to add sissy to my list of undesirable qualities.”

“Do you know Leigh Greenwood?” she asked.

Travis shook his head.

“I thought the author was a woman for years, but then I found out that it’s a guy. His name is Howard and he writes western romance. And I love his western stories.”

“Please don’t ask me to come out of the closet. I like it in here just fine,” Travis said. “The money is great. I love to write in the evenings, but I also like being a man’s man in the carpentry world.”

“I would never do that. You do what you are comfortable with, Travis. Will you sign all my books? I’ll never tell, not even Liz and Darcy. I still can’t believe it.”

“For you, I’d do about anything. I’m so glad you didn’t kick me off the porch when I told you.”

She reached for his hand again. “Does Aunt Birdie know?”

He shook his head. “Only my agent, publisher, Cal, and now you. Not even the model who poses as Teresa knows who I really am, and I’d sure like to keep it that way. No one knew where my first book would go or how it would do, so I chose a pseudonym and that was that. Then it hit pretty big and the publisher wanted a picture on the back of the next book and they started talking about book signings. That’s when my agent and I came up with the actress idea.”

“If that’s what you want, then that’s what we will do,” she said.

“Thank you.” He looked up at the stars, evading her gaze. “Hannah, this is one of those nights.”

“I know, Travis. One where good memories are made. Thank you for trusting me with your secret.”

“I would trust you with my heart, my life, and my soul, Hannah.”

“That’s a lot of promise.” She smiled.

“It’s the truth, darlin’. When you are ready to take this thing between us to the next level, all you have to do is let me know. Until then I’ll be waiting,” he drawled. “But right now I expect we should be getting some sleep. We’ve got a party to get ready for tomorrow. The girls told me they want to go to a movie.”

“That can’t happen because of—”

He put a finger on her lips. “I know, but it doesn’t mean I can’t fix them up with a movie here, does it? Cal and I are going to make a theater in the hangar and we’ll have popcorn and Cokes and candy bars. Not to worry. I cleared it with Gina.”

Hannah didn’t want to go inside. She wanted to sit on the porch, look at clouds shifting across what little bit of moon was showing that night, and rethink every sentence and every nuance of the whole evening. She wanted to go over and over that business of him trusting her with his heart and soul.

“Mama?” Sophie’s thin voice cut through the night. “Where are you?”

“Out here on the porch talking to Travis,” Hannah called out.

The screen’s hinges squeaked when Sophie pushed it open. She crawled up in her mother’s lap and laid her head on her chest. “I had a bad dream. Daddy came in the house to take Laurel and Bella away from us.”

Travis rubbed her back gently. “Your mama would put them running, darlin’. She wouldn’t ever let anyone take Laurel and Bella, but remember their uncle is coming on Saturday and it’s okay if he takes them back to Kentucky to live with their kinfolk.”

“Okay,” Sophie said. “Mama, when is my granny coming to Crossing to see me? Laurel says her granny is real nice. I told her that mine is, too, but when will we see her? And can she stay in our house this time instead of Miss Rosie’s? She can sleep with me in my rainbow room.”

“I’m trying to talk her into coming to Texas for the Fourth of July,” Hannah said, wincing at the memory that her mother had not even been able to stay with Aunt Birdie when she came for fear that Marty would find out.

“Really?” Sophie asked. “That’s not very far away, is it, Mama?”

“No, it’s not, and yes, she can stay in our house. She can sleep with you or in one of the upstairs rooms, either one,” Hannah said.

“Uncle Travis can fix anything,” Sophie said. “Mama, can I sleep with you? Laurel is in her mama’s bed and I’m lonesome.”

“Of course. We’ve got a big day tomorrow, so let’s go get you tucked in.” Hannah stood up.

Sophie wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck and her legs around her waist.

“That is one beautiful sight.” Travis grinned.

Travis sat down in front of his computer, and the next scene appeared on the screen as if by magic. An hour later he’d written more than a thousand words and was so satisfied with the scene that he saved it, backed it up, and went to bed. He’d dreaded telling Hannah about his other job, but now that it was done, a weight had been lifted off his chest. He didn’t tell her that he’d kept a first edition of every single one of his books already signed to her just in case he ever got up the nerve to tell her. Or that her reaction was far better than anything he’d ever hoped for.

Finally, he went to sleep and dreamed of growing old with Hannah and Sophie right there in that house. He would love to have a yard full of children looking like his beautiful Hannah, but he would be content to be a father to Sophie if that’s what Hannah wanted.

The sun was a big ball of heat outside his window when he awoke the next morning. He could hear two little girls giggling and smell the aroma of breakfast and coffee drifting up the stairs. The soft drone of female voices said that the whole crew was there, not just Jodie and Hannah, but Darcy and—he cocked his head to one side. Yes, that was Aunt Birdie and Miss Rosie, too.

A few years ago, he’d given up on ever being a part of Hannah’s life. No matter what a scumbag she’d married, she would be one who took her vows very seriously and would never leave him. So Travis had closed that chapter in his life and moved on. He and his father remodeled a house for a schoolteacher, and he’d asked her out on a date. His father adored Angela. She adored his father, and it looked like she might be the right woman for him.

Right up until he asked her to move in with him. She’d smiled sweetly and said that she would, but there was already someone somewhere in his past that was first in line.

“How do you know that?” he’d asked.

“Women know these things, sweetheart. You can’t give me what you don’t have to give. You still dream about her and call out for her in your sleep,” she’d answered. “Don’t try to replace her with someone else.”

Travis had started to argue, but he knew Angela was right. He’d left her at the door with a quick kiss on the cheek, told his dad that he was moving back to Crossing to do odd jobs in Cooke County, and started packing up his truck that very night. He gave himself one year to get over Hannah and to write two more books. He’d gotten three books written, much to his agent’s delight, but he had not gotten over Hannah.

And then six weeks ago, she’d gotten the divorce papers, and his whole world turned around. There was hope—a possibility—and he wasn’t going to sit on his hands and let it get past him again.

The ringtone said his father was calling. He crossed the room in a few long strides and picked it up from the nightstand beside the bed. “Hello, Dad. What’s going on?”

“I got married today,” he said abruptly.

“It’s about time. Congratulations?”

“I’m going to do remodeling jobs around Panama City Beach and this area. Guess I’m following in your footsteps.” He laughed.

“Congratulations. Are you coming home for July Fourth?”

“Not this year. We’re on our honeymoon cruise, and it’s one of those long cruises that lasts a month. I just wanted to let you know because we won’t have phone reception all the time. How are things with you and that O’Malley gal?”

“I’m taking one step at a time. Did you tell Miss Rosie that you got married?”

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