Annie's Song Part 11

The only explanation Annie could think of was that she saw the sound being made, knew it from memory, and, because her brain expected her to hear it, she thought she actually did.

Only she'd never heard Alex Montgomery's voice. Her father's was thinner and less husky, so Annie knew she wasn't recalling that and making a subst.i.tution. No. As unexplainable as it seemed, she'd imagined hearing this man's voice. This man's, and no other.

A p.r.i.c.kly feeling crawled up her spine.

After what had happened to her up at the falls, she couldn't dredge up much enthusiasm for being friends with any man.

Despite her yearning to trust Alex, he looked alarmingly wide across the shoulders to her in that moment, a huge wall of muscle that stood between her and everything she held dear-her childhood home, her parents, the forests she loved.

He reclaimed the fork, speared more beans, and pressed them upon her. Annie glanced uneasily at Maddy, hoping she might intervene.

By lightly nudging her mouth, Alex reclaimed her attention, his eyes glinting with determination. "You're dealing with me now, Annie, and I say you have to eat your supper."

Annie preferred to deal with Maddy, thank you very much.

She wished she could tell him that, among other things. Did he think she wanted to remain here, locked up in this cheerless room, day after endless day? She wanted to go home. To accomplish that goal, she had to be thin the next time her mother came to see her.

Recalling the strength in his fingers, she gulped in nervous dismay. If he decided to force her ... An awful, achy sensation centered in her chest, reminding her of the time she'd accidentally swallowed an unchewed mouthful of apple. Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked furiously to chase them away.

His face went hard, a muscle along his jaw bunching and then relaxing as he ground his teeth. Studiously avoiding her eyes, he said, "No foolishness, young lady. I am not a man easily affected by tears. You're going to eat. We can do it the easy way or the hard way. That's entirely up to you."

In the vain hope that she might sway him as she had Maddy, Annie started to puff air into her cheeks. The instant she did, he gave his head a shake and tossed the fork back onto her plate. At his sudden movement, she jumped with a start and ducked, just in case he had a mind to box her ears as her mother so often did. Freezing with his hand suspended in midair, he stared at her for a long moment. Then, barely moving his lips in a way that suggested he might be whispering, he bit out a word she'd never seen or heard anyone say before. She frowned in puzzlement.

At her look of bewilderment, he groaned visibly. Then he ran a hand over his face and blinked to bring her back into focus. Annie had the unpleasant feeling he regarded her as an extremely vexatious problem and was wis.h.i.+ng with all his heart that she would miraculously disappear. She wished she could oblige him. Blink, gone. No more Annie.

After hauling in a deep breath, he said, very slowly and succinctly, "Annie, love, you are not fat."

If not fat, then what did he call it? Her stomach wasn't extraordinarily large yet, but at the rate it was growing, it soon would be. At the beginning of b.u.t.terfly season, she had been able to look down between her bubbies and see her toes. Now all she saw was her belly. And what was worse, her frocks always seemed to get dirty there. Little wonder her parents didn't want her anymore.

"Honey, you have to eat," he said, his expression going from stern to cajoling. "Won't you do that for me? I don't want to have to force you, and I'm sure you don't want me to."

He leaned even closer, and to her surprise, he curled his hand over her cheek. His palm was so large and wonderfully warm that she was sorely tempted to bury her face there so he wouldn't see her cry. He was going to think she was nothing but a big old blubber baby, at this rate, and for reasons that totally escaped her for the moment, she didn't want him to think that.

"Listen to me, hmm? You are not fat." Smiling slightly, he repeated the last two words. "Not fat!" With that, he shoved her plate out of his way and reached for the sketchpad. "I had hoped to avoid this, but it looks as if there's no help for it. Pay close attention, all right? This will only take a few minutes."

As he began to draw, an intent frown creased his forehead.

Curious in spite of herself, Annie swiped at her wet cheeks and sat a little straighter so she might see. Though she had always done so secretly, she loved to sketch. Alex seemed to be fas.h.i.+oning a full-length figure of a woman standing in profile.

As she watched him draw, Annie detected a movement of his lips from the corner of her eye. She glanced up in time to see him finish with" ... not very good at this, I'm afraid."

She had to agree; he had very little, if any, artistic talent.

The woman he was trying to draw had a head that more resembled a misshapen ball, and her hair looked like a crop of wiggly worms. From there, she went from bad to worse, with a nose more like a bird's beak and arms that resembled thick lengths of rope with frayed ends for fingers. As drawings went, it wasn't just poor, it was awful.

Because her mother had allowed her to utter no sound for so many years, Annie very seldom got an urge to laugh. But this was one of those rare moments. Alex looked so serious about the drawing, his lower lip caught in his teeth, his thick brows pulled together in concentration. He was clearly giving this his very best effort. But even when he tried to make the sketch look better, it remained one of the poorest attempts she'd ever seen.

To stifle the horrified giggle that was trying to come up her throat, she had to hold her breath. He glanced up just then, and for a moment, he seemed to forget all about the sketch. Filled with questions, his eyes searched hers. She had a feeling he sensed she was about to laugh. He didn't seem disgruntled about it, only confused. And troubled.

In that moment, Annie had the strangest feeling. It was as if he looked into her instead of at her, that he saw things in her eyes that others never had and probably never would. The breathless sensation in her chest intensified. She couldn't drag her gaze from his, couldn't move to break the tension.

Whatever was bothering him, he finally seemed to shake it off and began drawing again, this time to give the woman a huge stomach. Under the table, Annie touched a hand to her waist. His sketch was of her? As if he sensed her reaction, he looked up again, his mouth quirking slightly at the corners.

"Not very flattering, I know. But bear with me."

Flattering? It was a word she didn't know. Bewildered, she glanced back at the sketch.

Alex added some finis.h.i.+ng touches to his drawing. Then he sat back to examine the work. Apparently satisfied, he turned the pad so she might view it. To her complete surprise, she saw that within the woman's protruding abdomen he'd drawn an infant, recognizable as such only by its ruffled bonnet, gown and booties. For several endless seconds, she stared at it.

"Baby," he said with exaggerated slowness, tapping the drawing as he spoke. Gesturing at her supper plate, then pointing to the infant's slit of a mouth, he added, "You have to eat. To feed the baby. Do you understand, Annie? You're not getting fat. There's a baby growing inside you."

Staring at him in stunned amazement, Annie hugged her waist. Her incredulity must have shown in her eyes. As though frustrated beyond endurance, he tossed down the pencil.

"Maddy, you come try. She doesn't understand."

Maddy rose from the bed and approached the table.

Pretending to hold an infant, she began to rock to and fro, smiling broadly. Then she pointed at Annie's middle. "A wee one, la.s.s. Isn't it a wonder? Ye're own wee babe. But ye must eat so it'll grow hale and hardy."

Annie understood all of that. The problem was, she couldn't credit it. A baby? They were saying she had a baby inside her?

She looked down at her stomach.

As Annie regarded her waistline, Alex took advantage of the moment to study her. At one point while he'd been drawing, he could have sworn she'd been about to laugh, and every once in a while, her expression had implied a certain cognizance.

Not that her mental abilities or lack of them were the issue right now. What mattered was that she finally understood what was making her waistline increase. He could tell she'd gotten the message by the startled look in her blue eyes and the way she was leaning back in her chair to rest her hands over her stomach.

She was obviously wondering how a child had managed to take up residence inside of her. How could he possibly explain that to her? Through the thin layers of her clothing, she plunged a fingertip into her navel and wiggled it around.

Alex shot a glance at Maddy. With an expectant lift of her grizzled red eyebrows, the housekeeper met his gaze.

"Don't even think it," he said.

"But she thinks-"

"I don't care if she thinks she swallowed a seed and it sprouted, I am not, I repeat not, drawing her a picture."

"The poor wee la.s.s!"

With that a.s.sessment, Alex was in complete agreement.

Annie was, without a doubt, a poor wee la.s.s, and it was nothing short of criminal that she'd been thrust into this predicament.

Looking at her now, he could almost see her holding a child in her arms, its downy head nestled against her breast. Even if she was daft, that didn't mean she was incapable of feeling love. Who was he to say what she thought or felt about anything? Or in what measure?

As those questions filled Alex's mind, a dozen others rose to bedevil him, none of which he could answer. He only knew, with sudden and almost blinding clarity, that Maddy was absolutely right; no one had the right to s.n.a.t.c.h a babe from its mother's arms. No one. He must have been mad to even consider it.

Before marrying Annie, he had convinced himself it was the only decent thing to do. He had seen it as his duty, not just to Annie, but to his brother's child. Right now none of those reasons held water.

A searing sensation washed over Alex's eyes as he watched Annie continue to poke curiously at her bellyb.u.t.ton. With a loud sc.r.a.pe of his chair, he pushed to his feet. No matter what he had promised her parents, how would he find it in his heart to separate her from the infant after its birth? The answer to that was simple: he couldn't.

A little over an hour later, Annie was finally alone.

Measured in broad stripes by the barred window, moonlight spilled into her bedchamber. Limned with silver, the utilitarian furnis.h.i.+ngs and long forgotten children's toys in the room took on a lifelike quality. Starkly defined by shadow, the carvings in the armoire door looked like a person's face. The rocking horse in one corner actually seemed to move slightly, its mane and tail rippling as though touched by a light breeze. Annie imagined she could even hear the sound of children's voices and laughter, ever so faint, ever so distant, from a time long past.

A sense of wonder filled her. If Alex Montgomery and Maddy weren't lying, she would soon have a child of her own.

Her very own little baby. The thought made her throat tighten with gladness. Sometimes it was lonely, living in silence. The only pets she'd been allowed to have were wild creatures she had tamed-the animals in the woods and some mice in her parents' attic. She had no human friends and little hope of acquiring any.

A baby ... Annie hugged her waist, so happy that it was difficult to contain herself. Someone of her very own to love.

It was the nicest thing that had ever happened to her, barring none. So nice that she was almost afraid to believe it might be true.

After positioning herself cross-legged in the center of the bed, she held her hands reverently over her waist. Alex had seemed convinced a baby was in there. Try as she might, Annie couldn't imagine how it had gotten inside her. More importantly, how would it ever get out?

Jerking up her nightgown so she might better explore, she dived her fingertip into her navel again, wondering if the hole could possibly go clear through to her stomach. It didn't seem to. Frowning, she pushed as hard as she could, not easing up until it began to hurt. No, a baby had definitely not sneaked in that way, and it wasn't likely to get out that way, either.

When Annie had been a small child, her mother told her that babies were brought by fairies and left on people's doorsteps during the night. It had always seemed a perfectly logical explanation to Annie, for if not from fairies, where else could babies come from? Even the newborn creatures in the forest seemed to appear at their mother's sides as if by magic. Except for birds, of course. Annie knew they came from eggs. Mother birds, like domestic hens, laid the eggs and then sat on them until their chicks hatched.

Could it be that human babies came from eggs as well?

Maybe her mother had lied to her, and babies weren't brought by fairies, after all. The thought made her heartbeat quicken.

Spreading her hands over her waist again, she palpitated the slight roundness. If there was an egg in there, it was already bigger than most. Surely it was due to come out soon.

And then what? She weighed far too much to sit on an egg without cracking it. So what was she supposed to do with it? If allowed to get cold, the chicks inside eggs never hatched.

Annie suspected that they died.

Despite the warmth of the summer night, she felt chilled at the thought of her baby dying inside its egg for lack of warmth.

Lying down, she drew the down comforter to her chin. She couldn't let her baby die. She just couldn't. She had to think of a way to keep it warm. But how?

As the warmth of the comforter began to envelop her, Annie found an answer to that question. When her egg came out, she could lie with it under the quilt. The heat from her body would keep her baby nice and toasty until it hatched.

Alex poured himself another gla.s.s of whiskey, tried to recall how many he'd already had, and then said to h.e.l.l with counting. He didn't want to think. He didn't want to feel. To get staggering drunk, that was his aim.

To Annie, he thought, upending the gla.s.s. With two gulps, the whiskey was en route to his stomach, burning a path every inch of the way. He clenched his teeth and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Master Alex!"

Maddy's scandalized whisper pierced the silence. Alex sat forward in his chair, turned, and with painstaking care, finally managed to focus on her. "h.e.l.lo, Maddy. Care to join me?"

Planting her hands on her ample hips, she marched across the Persian rug. Casting a fiery glance at his whiskey jug, she tutted in disgust. "What are ye about with all of this imbibing here of late? Just this mornin', ye were tippin' the bottle, and now here ye are at it again. It isn't like ye at all, if ye don't mind me sayin' so. And whiskey? I thought brandy was yer drink."

"Every now and again, Maddy, a man needs something with a little more bite than brandy."

"As if that'll solve yer troubles?"

She had Alex there. "It isn't my hope to solve my problems," he admitted. "Only to forget them." He tipped the gla.s.s to her. "All the best to you."

"Hmm. And what problems are ye tryin' to forget?"

Alex considered that question at length. "Be d.a.m.ned if I can recall."

"Lord help us." She perched on the arm of the chair catty-corner to his. After studying him for several moments, during which time Alex refilled and once again emptied his gla.s.s, she finally said, "It's the wee la.s.s, isn't it? That's what's troublin' ye. Ye feel bound by yer oath to return her to her mama, but yer heart's tellin' ye that would be wrong, terrible wrong."

Leave it to Maddy to hit the nail on the head. Alex poured himself another drink and sat forward again to brace his elbows on his knees. Finding his knees proved to be a slight problem. When he managed, he discovered that they wobbled worse than a three-legged chair. "What the h.e.l.l am I going to do, Maddy?" he finally asked.

"What ye always do," she said gently.

"And what's that?" he snapped, irritated by what he interpreted as evasiveness.

"The right thing."

He groaned. "And just what is the right thing? I gave her parents my word, d.a.m.n it. I've never gone back on my word in my life."

A long silence fell over them. At last, Maddy said, "Ye also gave G.o.d yer word, did ye not? It seems to me that if it comes to a choice between honorin' yer promise to G.o.d or to man, ye've got to choose G.o.d every time."

Alex gave a bitter laugh. "Put like that, it sounds so simple, but it isn't. You're probably going to go hunting for the shotgun if I tell you this, but I'm going to anyway. Since bringing Annie here, I'm discovering that my sterling character is a little tarnished around the edges. I'm half afraid to be alone with her."

"Why ever not?"

Alex glanced up, feeling suddenly sober. "Good G.o.d, Maddy. Do I have to draw you pictures as well? The girl's mind may be impaired, but otherwise, she's lovely." At his housekeeper's blank expression, he swore under his breath.

"To put it in terms you will understand, I'm a lecherous b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Is that clear enough for you?"

Maddy's green eyes began to twinkle. "Ah," she said.

"Ah? Is that all you can say? Jesus, Maddy. I'm not joking about this. The morning I brought her home, I-" He broke off, swirled the liquor in his gla.s.s until it sloshed over the edge, and then heaved an exhausted sigh. "If I keep her here, she'll be constantly at hand. Over a period of time, I'm worried that the few scruples I have left may get swept under the dust ruffle."

"Ye'd never lay a hand on the la.s.s unless she was willin', and well ye know it. Why, I'd venture to say ye'd kill any man who tried. I'm amazed ye let Douglas walk away from here in one piece."

"He very nearly didn't," Alex admitted. "There was a moment when I came just that close to strangling him. Now I'm beginning to wonder if I'm not more like him than I thought."

"Don't be absurd. Ye're nothin' alike. Never have been, not even as young lads. He shot wee birds from the trees. Ye set their wings and nursed 'em back to health. He kicked the dog.

Ye begged a treat from the kitchen to make it feel better. Over the years, he just got meaner, and ye went around behind him, tryin' to set his wrongs aright." She leaned forward to settle a kindly hand on his shoulder. "Alex, me boy, ye are no more like Douglas than day is like night."

He squeezed his eyes closed. "What he did to Annie can't be fixed, Maddy. And I'm terrified that by keeping her here, I'll only wound her more."

"Love has no sharp edges," she reminded him. "And lots of love is what ye'll be givin' Annie if ye keep her here. Mayhap not the kind of love a man usually has fer his wife, but love nonetheless, and that will be more than she will ever have otherwise. As fer yer fears? The way I see it, ye've already plucked the goose by marryin' the la.s.s. Now all ye can do is wait to see how the feathers settle."

With those words of wisdom, Maddy left the study. For a long while after the door closed, Alex sat and stared at the intricate pattern in the carpet. When he told the Trimbles of his decision concerning Annie, feathers were going to fly, all right.

A veritable blizzard of them.