Sgt. Billy's Bride. Bonnie Gardner
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her. What had made her so tired that she dropped off next to a stranger? He flipped the turn signal off and remained on the highway.
There were plenty of other motels on the road ahead before they got through Montgomery. Who said they had to stop at the first one? Darcy hadn’t. She could get a room at the last one out of town just as easily.
Bill drove on through the sleeping city, then he drove past the last Montgomery exit, crossed the Alabama River and approached the first off-ramp for Pittsville just a few miles from Mattison. There were fewer motels here, but they were close.
Close to what? he asked himself. Or maybe to whom?
And why was he attracted to this woman he’d just met? It wasn’t as if he were looking for a woman, even if he had time for one. Duty, physical training, night school and his mother kept him busy enough for three men. The last thing he needed was any distraction from his goals.
But what a distraction Darcy would be, he couldn’t help thinking. He’d practically been a monk since he’d left high school and home. He’d wanted so much to pull himself out of the near-poverty he’d been raised in that he’d devoted all his time to the air force, to getting the education his mother couldn’t afford to give him, to making something of himself.
If he could just get his degree, he could obtain an appointment to Officer Training School, become an officer and gain respect in the world. After almost ten years, the degree was in sight.
But there were times when he had a few minutes to himself that he couldn’t help realizing just how lonely that climb toward the top had been. He looked at Darcy and wondered how it would be if….
No. He shook his head. He didn’t have the time.
He realized suddenly that as he’d been woolgathering, he’d driven right through Pittsville. Now what? He looked at Darcy asleep on the seat and shrugged. He could save her the cost of a night’s stay in a motel and put her up at Momma’s. There might be a time later on when she would need that money.
He could drive her to Montgomery in the morning.
He yawned and stretched and looked for the familiar landmarks near his home. He saw the old Shell station on the corner, closed now, but still bearing the familiar orange sign. The station had once been adjacent to a motel, but the motel had been closed since before he was born. The interstate had gone through, and the traffic on the Mattison highway had dwindled to nothing.
There was Mrs. Scarborough’s house three miles down the road from the little farm where he had grown up. He passed the Popwell’s place and Maggie Montoya’s restored house, then he saw the dirt road home. He eased on the brakes and steered onto the lane.
Darcy stirred. “Are we in Montgomery yet?” she said through a yawn.
“Hush, Darcy,” he said. “We’re home.” And that simple statement seemed so right, that it needed almost no explanation; although he knew he owed her one. “You were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to wake you. Momma’ll have a bed for you, and we can figure out what to do tomorrow.”
Darcy seemed to have heard his explanation, but she didn’t react. Was he going to have to explain again? Would she be angry that he had taken her home? Now, he wondered if he’d made a mistake by not dropping her off in Montgomery as they’d planned.
“Oh. Okay,” she mumbled, confirming his suspicion that she wasn’t fully awake.
Bill wondered again what had exhausted her so that she’d succumbed so completely to sleep. Had there really been a car broken down by the road? Or had she hitchhiked all the way? That would explain her exhaustion.
As he parked in front of the house, he realized with alarm that the lights were still on. Was Momma sick? Or had she simply fallen asleep in front of the television?
The family had tried to get her to accept live-in help, but she always brushed them off, saying she didn’t want a stranger in her house rearranging things, making it not her own. When she was ready for help, she’d tell them. Bill wondered if she was finally ready.
Then he looked up, surprised, when his mother flung open the screen door and stood at the top of the porch steps. She looked better than she had in months. Was she improving?
He knew better than to believe that, but a guy could always hope. He turned off the engine and climbed out of the car. He had to explain about Darcy before he brought her in to spend the night.
Darcy felt, more than heard, the car door slam. She struggled to rouse herself from the depths of exhaustion, but her mind refused to clear. Had Bill said they were home? She’d started to correct him, but it wasn’t worth the effort.
She rubbed her eyes and looked around. They seemed to be in somebody’s yard. Had Bill’s car broken down, too? Had he had to stop to ask help from a stranger?
No. He seemed to know the woman, dressed in a worn housecoat, coming slowly down the steps from the homey-looking front porch complete with an inviting swing and a profusion of potted plants.
Then Bill’s comment about being home started to make sense. This wasn’t Montgomery, and it sure wasn’t a motel.
He had taken her home to his mother’s house.
Darcy stretched and yawned, then fumbled to release her seat belt. She had to get out and move around. She’d been sitting on this seat too long, and her neck was stiff. She needed to work the kinks out of her back and to get the blood circulating again. Maybe then she could think.
She and Bill could sort everything else out later. Or tomorrow, she supposed. She glanced at her watch. It was almost midnight. He’d said his mother would have a bed, and that’s all she cared about for now.
She looked toward the house and couldn’t help being touched by the mother and son reunion.
“What are you doing up so late?” Bill called as he hurried up the dirt walk to the house.
Mrs. Hays laughed, her merry tone belying her serious condition. She looked well enough, but Darcy’s training allowed her to recognize the subtle signs that indicated her illness. “You said you were bringing me a surprise, Billy boy. You had my curiosity running so fast, I couldn’t sleep.”
Bill had forgotten about the comment he’d made when he’d called to say he’d be later than usual. He’d told her about ordering the new Jeep some time ago, but he hadn’t told her that he’d finally gotten it. He’d said he was bringing home a surprise.
A brilliant smile lit up Momma’s face, and Bill turned to see Darcy push open the passenger-side door and climb out, stretching after hours in the car.
“Oh son. It’s the best surprise you ever could give me,” Momma said, hurrying down the steps, her gait more steady than he’d seen in months. “I didn’t think you’d find a bride before…before…. Well, you know.” She smiled again and, arms outstretched, hurried toward Darcy.
He realized with horror what his mother must be thinking. Now, what was he supposed to do? Tell her the truth and break her heart?
Chapter Two
Bill’s mother folded Darcy into a warm embrace. “Welcome to the family, daughter,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “It makes an old lady happy to know that her youngest son is finally going to settle down.”
Fortunately for Darcy, the fact that she was enveloped in Mrs. Hays’s frail embrace kept her from displaying her shock at what the woman had just said. Had she really just called her daughter?
What’s going on here?
She glanced over Mrs. Hays’s shoulder and saw the panicked look on Bill’s face. At least he was as startled about this as she was. Darcy started to push herself out of Mrs. Hays’s embrace and explain, but Bill shook his head and silently mouthed the word, please.
Darcy signaled her objection, but Bill