Randall Wedding

“Well, her mother fed her just now. I guess she should get some praise, too.”

“The mother’s awake? How is she doing?”

“I think she’s better. I was just going to fix her something to eat. Why don’t I call you back after she eats?”

“All right. Ask her—”

“I know what to ask her. Talk to you later.”

He’d fed the woman soup ever since they’d been in his apartment, but he didn’t think she’d finished as much as a can. He stepped to the door of the bedroom. “Isabella, I’m going to make an omelette and share it with you. I’ll be back in a minute.”

A faint thank-you drifted after him as he headed for the kitchen. He concentrated on the omelette, able to handle that with no trouble. He wondered about the woman, was not even sure she was a good mother. After all, she and her baby had been alone in a storm.

Of course, the storm had come up suddenly. Even the weatherman hadn’t given them much warning. Nevertheless he’d warn her to check more carefully before she set out again.

He made a vegetable and cheese omelette. Once he made sure she would eat meat, he’d fix her a steak. But he thought this would go down easier for her first real meal. He cut about a fourth of the omelette for her. Then he put the rest on his plate.

He dug out a tray and put both plates on it. Then he added some orange juice and some buttered toast. That should be enough for her first meal.

He entered the bedroom to find her eyes closed. Going to the opposite side of the bed, he set down the tray. Then he leaned over the bed and shook her shoulder. “Isabella? Wake up. I’ve brought you some lunch.”

She blinked several times, staring at him. Again he was reminded of how much Angel’s eyes were like her mother’s. “I…don’t think I can keep anything down.”

“Just try a little bit. You won’t get stronger until you eat something.”

She struggled to sit up against the pillows and he shoved another pillow behind her. Her fingers were trembling and she grabbed them to try to hide her weakness.

“Do I need to feed you?”

“No! No, I’m s-sure I can manage.”

But when she picked up the fork and it shook, he realized he shouldn’t have asked. “This time I’ll feed you. I don’t want you getting my pajama top dirty,” he added with a smile.

Unfortunately that apparently reminded her of a question she wanted to ask. “Why am I wearing your pajamas?”

“I wasn’t sure how to wash silk pajamas.” He scooped up a bite of egg, cheese and veggies and held it in front of her.

“I have nightgowns in my suitcase,” she said, not taking the bite.

“Come on before I drop it.” He was pleased when she opened her mouth. She chewed slowly, but it didn’t come back out. That made him think he’d been successful.

“It’s very good, but—”

“By the way, I apologize. My name is Russ. Russ Randall.”

She stared at him. “Randall? I’ve heard that name before.”

He held up another bite. “Try another bite before it gets cold.”

“But…” she began, but then stopped talking. He assumed she was following directions and carefully shoved the bite into her mouth.

She covered her mouth with her hand. “Did you bring a napkin?” she muttered after a minute.

He handed her the small glass of juice. “Drink some juice and I’ll go get napkins.”

When he returned, he decided her drink of juice must’ve been small. The level hadn’t gone down much. “Take another swallow.”

She lifted the glass to her lips, but didn’t drink much. “I remember where I heard your name.”

“Oh, really? Where? Connected to rodeos?”

She appeared surprised by the question. “No. I don’t know anything about rodeos.”

“Really? That’s a switch. I thought maybe you’d heard of Pete, Toby or Rich.”

“Who are they?”

“Randalls who’ve made a name for themselves.”

He held up another bite and she took it. “This really is good, Russ.”

“Thanks. Want some toast?”

She took the toast and bit off a little.

He fed her more. She started to speak, but he gave her a determined stare, and she took the bite.

“Didn’t you make a name for yourself?” she asked.

“Not as a rodeo cowboy. I’m an accountant. Not exactly headline stuff.” He’d always scored a lot lower than the rest of his family with the ladies. Somehow, adding up numbers wasn’t as exciting as wrestling bulls or riding bucking broncos. Of course, he didn’t suffer broken bones, either. Rich had done that. But it was how he met Samantha, so maybe it was worth it.

“Accountants are very important,” Isabella said solemnly.

He thought she was mocking him, but her look was sincere.

“You’re serious?”

“Of course. Accountants run the world.”

“Well, they certainly keep count of everything.” He scooped up more egg.

“No! I’ll just nibble on my toast and drink more juice. I don’t think I should try too much too soon.”

Russ frowned. “But you only had a few bites.”

“But they were big bites. Besides, your share will get cold if you don’t eat some of it soon.”

“All right. But let me know if you want more.”

She smiled in agreement and picked up her toast.

Russ took a bite of omelette. Lunch was a bit late today and he was hungry.

“How many brothers do you have?”

He looked up, surprised by her question. “Two.”

“But you named three, Pete, Toby and Rich.”

“Only Rich is my brother. My twin, to be exact. Pete’s my dad and Toby’s a cousin. I’ve got another brother, Casey. He’s the baby of the family. Well, that’s not true. He’s the baby of this generation, but we’ve got three babies in the next generation.”

She stared at him. “How many people are in your family?”

“Well, my father is one of four Randall brothers. They all married and had eleven children between them. Then there’s Griffin—he’s a cousin—and his wife Camille, who have two kids. Then there’s Gabe and Nick, two more cousins, also twins. Gabe and his wife Sarah just had twins and Nick and his wife are expecting. I think that makes a total of twenty-nine and growing. We’re a big family.”

That’s when Russ discovered she’d fallen asleep. Obviously his family wasn’t as dynamic as he thought.

He eased himself off the bed and carried the tray to the kitchen. He didn’t get her to eat much, although in addition to the bit of omelette, she’d managed half a piece of toast and half a glass of juice. Maybe he’d better check with Jon.

When his cousin-in-law answered the phone, he asked him if that was enough food for one meal.

“Sounds like it. Unless you make really bad omelettes,” he teased.

“They’re my specialty, Jon.”

He heard Tori protesting behind her husband. Omelettes had been Abby’s thing for him to fix her, especially if she was sick.

“Russ, I’m sorry. I—”

“Don’t worry about it, Jon. She did eat half a piece of toast and drank half a glass of orange juice.”

“Big glass?”

“No, a juice glass.”

“That’s probably best. If she keeps that down, that’s good.”

“You mean she might not?”

“You never know.”

“Man, that’s not something to look forward to.”

“Nope. That’s why I keep nurses around.” Jon chuckled, but then he asked, “Hey, did you find out anything about your mystery guest?”

“Her name is Isabella.”

“Pretty name.” He had to repeat it for Tori. “So, I guess she’s Italian.”

“That would be a good guess. She has long black curls.”

“Is she a teenage runaway?”

Russ paused. “No, I don’t think so. I’d guess she’s in her mid-twenties.”

“So what else did she tell you?”

“Uh, that’s it. I was busy trying to get her to eat. That seemed more important than pumping her for information.” He knew he sounded stiff. But he felt awkward once he realized what a poor job he’d done. Man, he certainly didn’t want to call his mother now.

“I’m sure Isabella will tell you anything you want to know when she feels better,” Jon said soothingly, reminding Russ of how he talked to Angel.

“Yeah. Well, I’d better go. Mom’s still waiting for her daily report.”

“Tori talked to her mother yesterday. The whole bunch of parents are gathering for your daily report.”

“Must be because of the blizzard. Not much to do when you’re trapped in the house.”

“Right. Well, call me if you have any concerns. Oh, I heard the weather report a short while ago. They think the storm might blow itself out by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Terrific,” Russ said, but he noticed a decided lack of enthusiasm in himself that he didn’t want to examine.

“Okay, we’ll talk to you later.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Jon.”

Could he put off calling his mother? The four sets of parents all lived together in the main ranch house. They shared their problems and their joys with one another. The kids all grew up together. He was as close to his cousins as he was to Casey. He’d admit he was a little closer to Rich, since they were identical twins, but not much.

They were all one big happy family.

Until Abby died.

Then he’d bowed out. Oh, he’d still been a member of the family, but he’d avoided all their big get-togethers. He’d avoided every rodeo they had at the ranch. He’d withdrawn into a colorless world where he didn’t have to risk dealing with his emotions.

He’d known it was cowardly of him. But he couldn’t bear the pain of the memories. The sight of the joy his brother or cousins felt with their new babies. The soft touches, the exchanged looks with their wives. He’d shared all that with Abby. But no more.

He’d fallen into a rut of nothingness.

Okay, so now it was time to reenter life. His fingers actually shook as he picked up the phone. He could start slowly. After Isabella and Angel went on their way, he could attend a few family functions. That would do for a while.

He dialed the number, and Red, the man who’d taken care of the house for the past forty years, answered.

“Hey, boy, you making it all right?”

“Sure, Red. But I can’t quite make biscuits as light as yours,” Russ teased.

“It’s in the wrist, boy. You know that.”

Russ chuckled and asked for his mother.

“She’s been waitin’ for your call.”

“Russ?” his mother asked when she got on the line. “Did she wake up?”

“Yeah, she did, but not for long. And she was pretty weak. I fixed her some food, but she didn’t eat much.”

“What did you fix her? An omelette?”

He should’ve known his mother would guess that. “Yeah.”

“Oh, good. That would be good for her.”

“I hope so. Her name is Isabella, but that’s all I learned. She fell asleep too quickly.”

“Oh, my. She must be really weak.”

“Yeah. I don’t know how long she was sick before I found them.”

“How’s Angel?”

“As beautiful as ever. She recognizes my voice now.” He regretted adding that information.

“Uh, yes, babies do that quickly. So her mother’s name is Isabella? That sounds Italian.”

“That’s what Jon said.”

“I wonder if she was coming here to visit someone? We have a few Italian families around here.”

“Probably not, Mom. I think she would’ve told me at once. But I’ll admit she’s not thinking too clearly. She fell asleep while I was explaining our family to her.”

Janie laughed. “No wonder. There’s so many of us.”

“I know. But she’d heard our name before.”

“Well, that happens with Pete and Toby and even Rich.”

It bothered Russ how much he was pleased to be able to tell his mother that she’d never heard of anyone connected with the rodeo. “No, she hadn’t heard of them. She’s from New York, you know. At least, her license plates say New York.”

“Oh. Then I wonder how—”

“I don’t know, Mom. I’ll try to ask her the next time she wakes up. But I’ve got to go get the kitchen cleaned up right now. Before Angel’s next meal.”

“Of course, son. Oh, the snow is supposed to end tomorrow. We’ll get in to see how you’re doing as soon as we can.”

“Thanks, Mom, but there’s no hurry.”

When he hung up the phone, he stood there, his hand on the receiver, wishing everyone would quit telling him about the end of the blizzard. As if that was a good thing.

Chapter Three

When he moved to the kitchen to clean it up, he first took two steaks out of the freezer. A little steak and some vegetables would be good for Isabella. He’d cook them after Angel’s six-o’clock feeding.

He checked on Isabella several times before Angel finally sounded the alarm. He listened for Isabella to ask to feed her baby again, but he heard nothing. He gathered the baby against his chest and put the bottle in her mouth and all noise ceased. He cooed to her, entertaining her while she ate. Entertaining himself. He warned himself not to depend on Angel’s being around. After all, the snowstorm was supposed to end tomorrow.

But he doubted Isabella would have the strength by then to move on. After all, four bites of an omelette had knocked her out. It was strange that she hadn’t even stirred when Angel woke up. Suddenly he panicked. Still holding Angel, he jumped up from the couch and hurried to the bedroom door.

But Isabella was fine. She was curled under the covers, sound asleep and seemingly at peace. He backed away before Angel’s greedy guzzling of her bottle could bother her mother. Was Isabella going to sleep through dinner, too?

He’d looked forward to eating with Isabella. How pathetic. He was looking forward to dinner with a woman just this side of a coma. Yeah, he was going to have to change his lifestyle. Get out more. He didn’t need to consider dating or anything like that. He had no intention of dating. But he could hang out with his family.

It was just that he was curious about Isabella and Angel. He wanted to know they would be all right. That they had someone to turn to.

She probably had a truckload of relatives anxious to know what had happened to her. Especially if her car and her coat indicated her level of income. A runaway wouldn’t leave in her full-length mink coat and the Cadillac. That was a silly idea.

He had Angel changed and back down asleep before he heard anything from the bedroom. A thump. He hurried to the door and saw nothing. Including no one in the bed. He turned to the bathroom, but the door was open and the room was empty. He turned back to the bed and saw Isabella sprawled out on the floor beside it.

“Isabella! What happened?”

“I need to go to the bathroom,” she whispered.

He lifted her from the floor and helped her to the bathroom. Once he got her inside, he stood her against the sink.

“Can you manage on your own?”

“Yes.”

He wasn’t sure it was wise to leave her there alone, but he didn’t want to embarrass her. He’d already seen more of her than he wanted her to know.

He hovered outside the door, waiting for her to call him.

“Russ?”

He barely heard her. Had the omelet made her worse?

He opened the door and found her where he’d left her. “Did you take care of business?”

She nodded. He scooped her up into his arms and maneuvered her through the door. When he got her back to the bed, he followed her down to the side of the bed. “Are you hurting anywhere?”

She shook her head.

“But you seem more out of it than before,” he said, really worried.

“Sleepy,” she muttered.

He pulled the cover over her shoulders. “But I was going to cook you dinner. Aren’t you hungry?”

“Sleepy,” she repeated.

He left the room and grabbed the phone to call Jon again. Tori answered this time.

“Hi, Russ. Is everything all right?”

“I don’t know, Tori. She never really got awake. I found her on the floor because she fell trying to get to the bathroom. I got her in there and left her alone for a few minutes. Then she called me and wanted to go back to bed. All she’d say was she was sleepy. I was going to cook her supper, but she’s gone back to sleep. Does that sound normal?”

His cousin repeated the facts to Jon, her husband. He took the phone. “Does she seem to be sleeping okay?”

“Yeah, her breathing is even. Actually, she seems to be sleeping more deeply.”

“Probably she didn’t get any good sleep until you got more food down her. I bet the next time she wakes up, she’ll be hungry. Don’t worry, Russ.”

“Whatever you say, Jon.” He knew he didn’t sound satisfied with Jon’s words, but he couldn’t help worrying.

“If you get worried later, give us a call. No matter what the time.”

“Okay, thanks. Hopefully I won’t have to bother you.”

Russ went back into the bedroom. He stared down at Isabella, watching her breathe. Then he walked out to the living room and looked at Angel. They were both sleeping fine. Maybe if he watched Monday Night Football he could forget the warmth and beauty of the two females. But he knew Angel had already claimed his heart. What worried him even more was that Isabella had that effect on him, too. He couldn’t feel anything for her! Could he?

WHEN SHE WOKE UP Isabella had no idea where she was. She realized she must have been ill, because she was very shaky. What had woken her up?

It had to be Angel, of course. But had she stopped crying? That didn’t sound like Angel. She usually screamed continuously until she got her bottle. They’d been in a hotel. Was that where—? She heard a man’s voice.

She struggled from the big bed and managed to get as far as the door, leaning against the wall for support. She silently opened the door and stared into the next room.

There was her child, wrapped in a blanket and snuggled against a man’s bare chest, taking her bottle. Isabella watched as the man moved around the room, as if slowly waltzing with Angel. He was wearing loose sweatpants, hanging low on his hips—and nothing else.

“Who are you?” she demanded, but her voice came out faint and weak.

“Isabella! You’re up!”

“You know me?”

He gave her a strange look. “We introduced ourselves last night. Don’t you remember?”

“No. Where am I?”

He moved closer and she almost fell over. “I think you’d better get back in bed. Angel and I will come in there and we’ll talk while she finishes her bottle.” He bent over and got a clean nightgown and diaper before coming toward her.

She stumbled back to bed, already exhausted by the brief exchange. As she pulled the cover up, she realized she had nothing on her legs. She was only wearing a pajama top and panties. Her panties, someone else’s top.

The man sat on the foot of the bed, still feeding the baby. “I picked the two of you up three days ago on the road south of Rawhide. A blizzard was starting and I was trying to make it back to Rawhide. Your car was off the road in the ditch.”

She didn’t remember any of this. Three days ago?

“You opened my passenger door before I could get out and shoved in Angel in her carrier. Then you started loading your suitcases and boxes. I climbed out and helped you. Then I got you in the truck and myself behind the wheel. When I looked at you, I realized you were running a high fever.

“We got back here and I brought you both up here and started taking care of you.” He stood and went over to the curtains. He pulled them open and showed her a white nothingness. He pulled the curtain closed again. “Helps keep the cold out.”

“You mean the snow is as high as the second story?”

“No. But with a storm, we get a lot of wind. Until it blows itself into North Dakota, there’s more snow in the air than there is on the ground. Travel is impossible.”

“Oh. So we’re in Rawhide?”

“Yeah. Where were you heading?”

“Rawhide.”

He stared at her as if she’d said something strange. “You were?”

“Yes. Is there something wrong with that? Don’t you get visitors in Rawhide?” She shifted under the covers, feeling uneasy suddenly.

“Yeah, sure. Were you visiting someone?”

“Yes, my aunt.”

“Oh, that explains it. But Angel is too young to be traveling. And you need to watch the weather closely in Wyoming.”

“Thanks for the warning!” she snapped angrily, but she was so weak her eyes filled with tears.

“Hey, no need to cry. I saved you.”

“I’m sure we would’ve been all right,” she said with a sniff.

He stared at her. “No. You would’ve frozen to death.”

His raw statement made everything worse. “Give me my baby!”

“Why? She needs to be changed so she can go back to sleep.”

“I know that! I can take care of her!”

“Can you? You can barely stand. You certainly can’t carry her around, and you’ve been very sick. I don’t think you should push it.”

She gave up, though she didn’t think it was her nature. But he was right. She didn’t have any strength. She turned over and buried her face in a soft pillow. “Go away!”

She heard him stand and walk away. When she looked up she was alone again, the door closed. Wearily, she pushed her hair back from her face and tried to think about her next step. But it seemed too hard to make a decision. Gradually her lashes lowered over her eyes.

AFTER A SLEEPY Angel was settled back down in her carrier, Russ silently opened the door of his bedroom and discovered Isabella had gone back to sleep.

He breathed a sigh of relief. Last night she’d seemed sweet and cooperative. This morning she was difficult…except that she was too weak. He really needed to feed her again, but he was thinking they both might benefit from another couple of hours’ sleep. This was Angel’s six-o’clock feeding.

He returned to the air mattress he used when he went camping. It was better than the floor. He was too old to sleep on the floor. Okay, he wasn’t ancient, only in his early thirties, but he felt older.

He lay down, thinking of his king-size bed in the next room. He had a second bedroom, but he’d made it into an office. There was no bed there. One thing about taking care of Angel, though. He didn’t have to worry about falling to sleep.

That was true this morning, too.

AROUND EIGHT, Russ pulled on jeans and a sweater, using the spare bathroom. Then he headed for the kitchen. He first put on a pot of coffee. Then he put oatmeal on to cook. He fried bacon and added buttered toast. When it was all ready, he went to the bedroom door and opened it.

“Isabella, I’m serving breakfast in five minutes. Want to visit the bathroom beforehand?”

At least she’d opened her eyes. She stared at him, blinking several times.

Then she nodded and began shoving back the cover. Until she reached her bare legs. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

“That top comes almost to your knees. Come on. If we don’t hurry, the bacon will burn.” He noticed interest in her eyes when he mentioned bacon. That was a good sign. He helped her to the bathroom.

When he had her back in bed, he went to the kitchen and loaded the tray with their breakfasts and came back. He walked around the bed and piled the pillows behind her so she was almost sitting up. Then he slid the tray closer.

“Help yourself,” he said, picking up the bowl with the most oatmeal. She picked up her own bowl, but she stared at him.

“I like my oatmeal with a little sugar,” he said, sprinkling it on his cereal, “and then I add raisins. Does that suit you?”

She nodded and he added sugar and raisins for her.

“Want some milk to cool it off?”

She nodded again. He poured some for her. “Can you stir it up yourself?”

She nodded. Good thing he didn’t expect a lot of conversation.

“Eat a piece of bacon and a bite of toast while it cools,” he ordered. He figured if he gave her a choice, she’d refuse everything. She followed his lead. In fact, she ate half a piece of toast. Then he started eating the oatmeal and she followed suit.

Fifteen minutes later, the tray was pretty much emptied. He’d eaten most of it, but she’d done a pretty good job. “Feel better?”