The Lullaby Sky Read online

  Travis, dependable, sweet man that he was, could find good in everyone. Hannah hoped that someday when the right woman came along, she’d realize that she’d found real gold and not fool’s gold.

  “You are thinking of the past again.”

  “What makes you say that?” Hannah asked.

  “It’s the sadness in your eyes. I wish I had a mental ‘Dead End’ sign to put in your mind so that every time that happened, it would make you turn around and forget that there was even a man named Marty in the world,” he said.

  “That is so sweet, Travis.” She smiled. “So you agree I should paint the whole house that pretty shade of blue? I could pick up the paint while Darcy and I are shopping for new furniture today.”

  “I think it would be beautiful.”

  “What if I don’t like it in a week?”

  He chuckled. “Then repaint it. This is your house. You can paint the rooms a different color every week if that makes you happy. Darcy never got a chance to tell me what was really horrible last night, you know.”

  “Bugs and spider eyes.”

  “Want to elaborate just a little?” Travis asked.

  “It all started when you let Sophie bounce on the bed. We found nanny cams in three different vents where Marty had been recording and watching us. And listening devices on the phones,” she answered.

  Travis squeezed the coffee mug every bit as tight as his chest felt. He’d always known Marty was an egotistical son of a bitch with OCD and a god complex, but this strayed into the area right before a true sociopath came out of the closet. Hannah would be a long time getting over his mental abuse, but hopefully she’d been saved from suffering something worse.

  “Did you check your cell phone?” he asked.

  Hannah shook her head. “There’s not room for a bug in that phone, is there?” She picked up her phone from the nightstand beside the bed. She removed the cover and then the back and handed it to Travis. “Can you take that thing apart and tell me if there’s a device of any kind in the back?”

  “No, I can’t, but we can take it to the phone place tomorrow when we go shopping for new furniture,” he said.

  “Take it outside and leave it on the back porch until we can get it seen about.”

  Travis handed the phone back to her. “I don’t know how he could have gotten anything into the telephone. It takes a tech person to get inside one of those smartphones. But your car, now that’s a different story. He’s probably got some kind of tracker on it, and we will check it out tomorrow.”

  “I bet you are right. That makes more sense, anyway. When Sophie was two, I packed a suitcase, crammed a tote bag full of her favorite toys, and we left. We’d gotten about fifty miles down the road heading east. We were going to Virginia to live with my mother and grandmother until I could find a job and get on my feet.”

  “And?” Travis asked.

  “And Marty called, told me that I would turn around and go back home, or else.”

  “Else?”

  “He had lots of money behind him, Travis. I figured someone in town had seen us loading the suitcases and tattled on me. I always blamed Wyatt, because he was the only person in Crossing that Marty even talked to. I waited six months. That time I didn’t take a thing from the house. For anyone looking on, I was going out to do my Thursday evening grocery shopping. I drove straight to the shelter in Gainesville and . . .” She paused.

  “And he called you, right?” Travis said.

  “He did. He said it was the last chance he would ever give me. That I belonged to him and Sophie belonged to him, but it could be arranged that I wouldn’t be in the picture anymore. If I wanted to raise my daughter, I’d better go home and stay there.”

  “Did he come home that weekend?”

  Hannah nodded. “Oh, yes, and he brought Sophie a Barbie dollhouse and played with her all weekend. It was probably the most attention he’d ever paid the child, and she wasn’t quite sure how to take it all in. But I knew it was a message to me so I didn’t run again. That along with the threats and the bruises that he put on me. My car”—she paused—“was why I couldn’t leave. If only I’d known, I would have left it at home and gotten someone to drive me.”

  “Marty is going to fall over the edge one of these days and do something really bad to someone. I’m just glad he’s out of your life, Hannah, and it won’t be you or Sophie in front of him when he cracks.” He held up his hand. “Dead end! Let’s go get another cup of coffee and imagine your kitchen painted blue with red-checkered curtains on the windows.”

  “Not red with this shade of blue,” she said. “I’m going to sew them, so maybe pure white in the living room and kitchen. I want lots of sunshine to pour into the house, especially in the morning. I can pull the shades in the afternoon to ward off the heat.”

  Travis’s heart kicked in a little extra beat at her enthusiasm. It might take six months—it might take a couple of years, even—but someday she was again going to be that cute little dark-haired girl with big brown eyes that he’d had a crush on in elementary school. She’d been shy even back then, but there was sparkle in her eyes and a bounce in her step. When he’d come back to Crossing the year before, he’d figured he’d stay in his grandmother’s spare bedroom, but Aunt Birdie had insisted he take a couple of rooms in her house on the second floor. That way he wouldn’t be so cramped. There was already a small sitting room up there and he could have his choice of bedrooms. And he’d have his own bathroom and not have to share.

  At first he thought he’d stay three months and finish the latest novel he was working on, but then the time stretched out and now a year had passed.

  “And”—her eyes started to twinkle—“when we go pick out furniture, I’m going by the fabric store to buy stuff for all the windows downstairs.” She giggled and it came from all the way down inside her heart. “Calvin would call them window treatments, not valances.” She slung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up with the grace of a ballerina.

  “You could call them Hannah’s creations. Want some help painting and getting a bedroom transformed into a living area this week?”

  “I never turn down help,” she said.

  “Good, then, I’ll be here early Monday morning, and by nightfall we’ll have the walls done. On Tuesday we can do the woodwork, and Wednesday you’ll be ready to drag out that sewing machine.” He grinned.

  “How about on Monday, I do some sewing, and we start painting on Tuesday? That way the window treatments”—her eyes twinkled—“will be done when all the paint dries and we can hang them up. Besides, I’m itching to do some sewing now that I thought of it.”

  “You are the queen of this castle, despite Sophie’s take on things.” Travis led the way down to the kitchen. He poured two more cups of coffee and handed one to her.

  Darcy made her way into the living room and fell back onto the sofa, pulling a red-and-white throw over her eyes. “It’s too early to be up. The sun is barely awake. I need coffee.”

  “Rise and shine, Valentine!” Aunt Birdie sang at the top of her lungs as she entered through the kitchen door.

  Darcy peeled back a corner of the throw, glanced at Travis and then at Hannah and Aunt Birdie before falling back on the throw pillows and covering her head again. “It’s June, not February, Aunt Birdie.” She groaned.

  Sophie made her way to the sofa and curled up beside Darcy, yanking part of the pillow over her eyes. “Is it morning? Do we get pancakes with chocolate chips?”

  “Yes, you do, and they are right here on a platter waiting for you,” Aunt Birdie answered. “Already slathered with melted butter and ready for syrup.”

  Hannah hugged Aunt Birdie. “This is so sweet of you.”

  “Ain’t nothing. I made a stack with chocolate chips and a stack of buckwheat and one of plain old pancakes so y’all can mix or match. That way you can get on about the business of buying new furniture.” Aunt Birdie opened the cabinet doors and took down four plates. “Gina, from do
wn at the shelter, called me first thing this morning to tell me how much they appreciate the donations and to talk about your offer, Hannah. It’s a good thing you are doing.”

  “What’s a good thing?” Sophie asked.

  “Giving away those things to the shelter,” Aunt Birdie answered. “Most folks don’t think to send men’s stuff. Some of those boys will use those nice shoes for things like the prom.”

  Hannah pulled syrup from the pantry and milk from the refrigerator and set both on the table. “If you don’t come out from under that pillow, Sophie Arlene O’Malley, I intend to eat all these chocolate chip pancakes myself.”

  “And I’m going to eat the buckwheat ones,” Travis called out.

  The pillow flew across the room, and both Darcy and Sophie sat straight up. Darcy tossed the throw to one side, jerked a thigh-length nightshirt down, and made her way to the kitchen. With one leap and a few steps, Sophie was sitting at the kitchen table in her usual spot, eyeing the platter of pancakes.

  “Mama, grace this so I can eat before it gets cold . . . please,” she added as an afterthought.

  Hannah squeezed syrup from the bottle into a coffee mug and set it in the microwave, poked the buttons, and laid a hand on Sophie’s shoulder as she bowed her head. “Why don’t you say the grace, since this is your favorite Saturday morning breakfast?”

  “Father up in the sky, thank you for these pancakes and for Aunt Birdie. She is the bestest, and you need to give her a blessing today. Amen,” Sophie said loud and clear.

  “And you thought the clouds were a passing thing?” Travis whispered. “I believe they might be with us longer than that old quilt. They might even last through eternity.”

  Hannah flashed a smile reminiscent of when she was in elementary school. There was his Hannah, the one he’d had the crush on.

  Aunt Birdie headed toward the bedroom. “While y’all eat, I’m going to take a peek at this new room.

  “Well, isn’t this beautiful. You should do the whole house like this, Hannah,” she called out from the room. “I like the way the sun comes right into the room. You should paint all the woodwork and your kitchen cabinets white.”

  “I agree.” Darcy forked three buckwheat pancakes onto her plate and covered them with the warm maple syrup the second it came out of the microwave. “Hey, I could drive over after work each evening next week and we could do a room a night?”

  “I’ve offered to help, too.” Travis stacked up three pancakes, one of each kind, on his plate.

  “Darcy, you can come stay any time you want. Any evening that you want to drive over here from Gainesville, feel free,” Hannah said.

  “My room, too!” Sophie’s eyes bugged out. “I get blue in my room?”

  “Do you want your room to be blue?” Darcy asked.

  Sophie’s dark curls wiggled as her head bobbed up and down. “And can I have a rainbow on the wall with white clouds all around it? Then I can put my quilt on the bed and ’tend I’m outside even when it’s raining.”

  “Travis?” Darcy glanced his way.

  A wide grin split his face. “Don’t ask me. The queen of this castle is sitting on the throne.”

  “Queen? You mean Mama?” Sophie giggled.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Travis nodded.

  “Then Queen Mama, can I have a rainbow on my wall?”

  “Travis?” Hannah flashed a brilliant smile, her brown eyes all aglitter.

  “Why Travis?” Sophie asked.

  “Because he’s real good at painting. He painted the mascot for our high school basketball team on the wall in the gym, and he was always the one who built and painted the props for plays and the floats for the parades,” Darcy explained.

  “You never told me that,” Sophie said.

  “You never told me that you like rainbows,” Travis said.

  “Well, I do like them. Can I have a rainbow on my wall, please, Travis?”

  “I will be honored to paint a rainbow and some clouds on your wall, ma’am,” Travis answered.

  Sophie threw her hand over her mouth, but the little girl giggles escaped around it. “I’m not a ma’am. That’s for old women, and I’m just a little girl.”

  “And it’s not for all old women.” Aunt Birdie’s smile erased a few wrinkles but not many.

  “I will try to remember that,” Travis said seriously. “Do you ladies want me to follow you into town this morning with my truck and trailer so we can bring whatever furniture you buy home today?”

  “Can I ride in the truck with you?” Sophie asked.

  “That’s up to your mama,” Travis answered. “But if she doesn’t mind, I would sure enough love the company. It gets awful lonely in the truck when I’m all alone.”

  “Can I please, please?” Sophie locked gazes with Hannah. “And can we get the paint for my rainbow today and can we paint my room next and can I have a poster of Frozen on my wall and—”

  “You better catch a breath,” Hannah butted in. “Yes, you can ride with Travis, and thank you for offering to go with us, Travis. And yes, we can get the paint for your rainbow, and yes, you can have your room done next. But we’ll see about the poster later.”

  “Done with the wisdom of a queen,” Travis whispered.

  Hannah’s phone buzzed before she could answer. She fished it out of her pocket, hit a button, read a text message, and all the color drained from her face. Her fork hit the floor with a clatter and landed under the table. Travis leaned to pick it up at the same time she did, and their heads bumped together.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She rubbed her forehead and handed him the phone as she picked up the fork and then took it to the kitchen sink. Travis followed her, the phone in his hand and cold chills shooting up his spine.

  The text message read: Chocolate chip pancakes. Rainbows. Blue walls. White trash.

  Hannah pulled the magnetized grocery list pad from the refrigerator door and wrote on the top sheet:

  Bugs. More, but where? What do we do?

  Travis scribbled on the bottom of the pad:

  I’ll get a bug detector and go over every inch of this house, inside and out and your car as well.

  Hannah laid a hand on his and squeezed. That was enough fuel to keep Travis going for the rest of the week. Damn that man for taking the sparkle out of Hannah’s eyes and putting fear right back in.

  “What’s wrong?” Aunt Birdie asked.

  “Not a thing,” Hannah said with a forced giggle. “Clumsy old me dropped a pancake on the floor. I was going to clean it up, but there might be some little starving ants that would enjoy it for breakfast. Anyone want more coffee while I am up?”

  With a frown on her face, Darcy held up her cup and glanced down at the floor.

  Hannah carried the pot to the table and laid her phone beside Darcy’s plate. Darcy’s whole body stiffened as she handed the phone to Aunt Birdie.

  “Stalker!” Aunt Birdie said loudly.

  “Is that our new word for today?” Sophie asked.

  “No, our word for today is rainbows.”

  “Then why did you say stalker? Is that like Jack’s beanstalk that you read to me about?” Sophie asked.

  “Something like that. A stalker is like that giant who climbed up the beanstalk so he could do mean things. Remember what happened to him?” Aunt Birdie talked more loudly than normal.

  Sophie’s black curls bounced when she nodded. “Jack chopped down the beanstalk and the giant got dead.”

  “That’s what happens to stalkers. Someone comes along and chops down the beanstalk and they get dead.” Immediately the phone buzzed in Aunt Birdie’s hand, and she handed it to Hannah. “It’s time to get out the ax,” she whispered.

  The text message was from Liz. Wyatt got called out early. Are you awake? I’ll bring muffins if you’ve got coffee ready.

  Hannah’s thumbs quickly typed something back, and then she laid the phone on the counter. “That was Liz. She’s coming over with muffins.”
/>   “Yay!” Sophie pumped her fist in the air. “I got a new name and Aunt Birdie made me pancakes and Aunt Liz is bringing muffins and Darcy is here. I love this day. Oh, and I get rainbows on my wall. You are the best mama in the whole wide world. This is the best Saturday of my whole life.”

  Travis almost choked on a sip of coffee before he got it swallowed. “Out of the mouths of babes,” the old saying went. And what Sophie had just said so innocently aloud was far better than all the threats and cussing any of the adults around the table could have ever done.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Sometimes Sophie referred to Hannah’s four friends as aunt or uncle, but that morning, as she ran from one piece of furniture to another, she’d dropped all the aunt and uncle titles in her excitement.

  “Liz, look at this fancy princess bed,” she squealed.

  “Lie down on it and tell me if you really want it,” Liz said.

  Sophie glanced at her mother, and Hannah nodded. People tested the furniture every single day, so it shouldn’t cause the sun to fall from the sky if a five-year-old stretched out on a canopy bed.

  All four of the adults watched her kick off her flip-flops and lie down. Her eyes darted to the ruffled eyelet canopy and then to each white bedpost, and finally she popped up her knees and shook her head dramatically.

  “I don’t want this thing,” she said as she put her flip-flops back on.

  “Why? It’s a princess bed,” Travis said.

  “Because I couldn’t see my rainbows and clouds if I was in that bed and besides, it feels like I’m in a cage,” Sophie declared. “I’ll just keep my bed and it can be in the middle of the rainbow.” She made a sweeping arch with her slender arm. “And the clouds can be on either side and when I wake up I can just see them right there on my blue wall. They can keep this bed. I don’t want it.”