Was this what he’d meant then when he had likened her to a poor creature in the wild and himself to a feral predator? Shewaited him out, uncertain if he meant to speak or pounce. It seemed that the wait lasted the near side of forever, but it couldn’t have been more than seconds.
Roen said, “Have I told you how lovely you look? I don’t think I did.”
Lily’s entire body twitched.
Seeing her reaction, one corner of Roen’s mouth lifted. “It’s difficult for you to accept a compliment.”
“It’s difficult to accept a lie.”
His half smile vanished. “Don’t do that. Youdolook lovely, and I don’t care for your accusation that I’m lying.” Suspecting that an apology was in the offing, Roen spoke before she could. “Did you fashion and make what you’re wearing for yourself?”
Lily shook her head. “There wasn’t time. I had a dress picked out, one I wear to church, but Ben showed up with this jacket, skirt, and shirtwaist that Mrs. Fish made for his wife. I don’t think Ridley wore it even once. She wanted me to have it. I had to alter it a bit here and there, but Ben said she wouldn’t mind. I’ll remove the stitching before I return it to her.”
“What color do you call the skirt and jacket?”
“Claret. It’s a very rich color. I wouldn’t have chosen it for myself, but it would have been churlish to refuse Ridley’s offer. She meant well.”
“Maybe she knows something about you that you don’t know yourself. The color suits you. Ah, you’re blushing. That suits you, too.”
“Must you say everything that comes into your head?”
“Maybe I should say everything that comes intoyourhead.”
“Perish the thought.”
He chuckled. “All right. Upstairs. It’s time to make your escape.” When she blinked, wide-eyed, his grin deepened. “Yes, Lily, I know when you’re looking for a way out.”
Chapter Sixteen
The sofa was about as comfortable as Roen thought it would be, which was to say it wouldn’t do at all. He found a book and read in the armchair for over an hour after Lily stopped moving around upstairs. When he nodded off twice, he thought it was safe to try the sofa. He was wrong. He decided he would have to be drugged or dead to find any rest there. After tossing and turning for almost as long as he’d been reading, he stood up and moved the cushions to the floor. He added the one from the armchair to make his new bed the proper length and made it up with the sheets and quilts. Nesting wasn’t hard after that, and when sleep came, it came deeply.
Lily also slept, but in contrast to Roen’s, her sleep was restless. Her dreams were a series of disjointed images, some from the distant past, others more recent memories. Most troubling was her dead husband’s presence in places he’d never been or couldn’t be. Jeremiah appeared in place of Lizzie at the fountain bar in Mangold’s drugstore while she was sitting with Roen at a table. She saw him sitting outside the sheriff’s office in the chair Ben usually occupied while Ben was sitting in the jail cell most often occupied by her husband. She followed Roen and Clay out to the edge of the Double H, and when shots were fired, it was Jeremiah who was doing the shooting.
The most vivid image was of Jeremiah standing over her while she lay in bed, helpless in a tangle of blankets as he raised his fist. She promised herself she wouldn’t make a sound because crying out only infuriated him, but as soon as he lowered his fist, she screamed.
“Ma!” Clay shook her shoulder. “Ma! Wake up!” Hamclung to his side and for once Clay didn’t mind. It was more reassuring than annoying. “You’re dreaming, Ma. Do you hear? Dreaming.”
Lily shrugged off the hand on her shoulder as she bolted upright. She was breathing hard. Her pounding heart made the sound of thunder in her head. “Clay?”
“Yeah. It’s me. Ham’s here, too. You want I should light a lamp?”
“No.” She didn’t want her boys to see her this way, disheveled and distressed. “I’m sorry that I woke you. I’m all right now. Go on back to bed.”
Neither Clay nor Ham moved. “It was a bad one tonight,” said Clay. “Where’s Mr. Shepard?” It wasn’t so dark in the room that he couldn’t make out that his mother was alone in bed.
“Downstairs.”
From the doorway, Roen said, “I’m right here now.” He was carrying a lamp, but he thought he must look like an apparition in his long white nightshirt. Both boys retreated a step but did not leave Lily’s side. He approached the foot of the bed and took it as a good sign that Lily didn’t cower. Clay’s eyes were darting back and forth, watching both of them for reactions.
“Please, Clay,” said Lily. “It was good of you to come, but you can go to bed now. You, too, Ham.”
Roen gave Clay full marks for not only listening to his mother but also for not asking the questions that were so clearly on his troubled mind. Roen touched Clay’s shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring manner as the boy passed him on the way to the door. Clay’s only response was to put his own arm around Ham’s shoulders and lead him off.
“Should I close the door?” Roen asked.
“Please.”
He did, but when he turned around and saw Lily staring at him strangely, he realized she expected him to be on the other side of the door. “I’m not leaving yet, but I promise I will leave.” He moved to the bed and set the lamp on the nightstand closest to her, then pulled up a straight-backed chair and sat. “That’s quite a scream you have, Lily. I was lighting the lamp so I could find my way when I heard the boys running down the hall. I overheard Clay say it was a bad one tonight. Fromthat I can infer it wasn’t your first and probably not your second. How often do you have nightmares?”
