“I wonder why she went to bed with Wesley if she was a virgin. And why she went back to that old man afterward. You know, don’t you, about her sister?”
“I’ve heard,” Nicole answered. Then, with eyebrows raised, she looked at Regan. “You’re up to something.”
Regan gave Nicole a look of pure innocence. “Look!” She nodded toward the frightened preacher. “They’re scaring the reverend. Tell Clay to take Wes outside, and I’ll get Travis out of here. I’d like to talk to this girl.”
Regan had to put her small body between her husband and his brother and beat on Travis’s chest with her fists to get his attention. “I want quiet in here!” she yelled up at him. “Go somewhere else and scream at each other.”
“If you’re telling me what to do—,” Travis began, but Clay caught his arm. “Let’s go outside. The girl is sick.” He nodded toward Leah on the couch.
“Sinners! All women are sinners!” Elijah screeched, and Clay grabbed the old man’s arm and hauled him out the door behind Travis and Wesley, who’d already resumed their argument in full gale. The reverend tiptoed out behind them.
“That’s better,” Nicole sighed when the room was quiet. “How do you stand both of them under the same roof?”
“It’s a big roof,” Regan answered, “but they’re getting worse as they get older. No!” she said quickly to Leah, who was trying to sit up. “Just lie still.”
“Please,” Leah whispered through swollen, cracked lips. “I must lea
ve now while he’s gone.”
“You can’t leave. I doubt if you can walk. Now lie still,” Nicole said.
“I think we ought to take her home and feed her,” Regan said, and the unsaid words and wash her hung on the air.
“No,” Leah said. “Don’t want to cause Wesley problems. Marry his Kimberly. So sorry about baby.”
Nicole and Regan exchanged looks. “How long have you known Wesley?” Regan asked.
“Always,” Leah whispered, leaning back on the cushions. Through her one unclosed eye she saw two women who looked like angels, exquisitely pretty, with soft clouds of dark hair, dresses of fabric woven by gods. “I must go.”
Regan gently pushed her down again and applied a cloth to her swollen face. “You’ve known Wesley always yet you only climbed into bed with him once?”
Leah’s mouth gave what could have been a smile. “Only saw him twice.” With that she fell asleep or into a state of half-sleep, half-consciousness.
Regan sat back on her heels. “I’d like to hear the rest of this story. What was Wesley doing with a girl such as this when he was supposed to be faithful to her royal highness Kimberly?”
“Her royal—,” Nicole said with a smile. “Oh Regan, you haven’t called her that to Wesley, have you?”
“No, but I did once to Travis. Stupid men! Both of them think she’s the epitome of womanhood. You know, I’d almost rather see Wes married to…to that—,” she pointed at the bruised mess that was Leah—, “than to the dear, delectable Miss Shaw.”
Before Nicole could answer, the door burst open and in ran Bess Simmons, Leah’s sister.
“I’ll kill him!” she cried, falling to her knees and taking Leah’s lifeless hand. “Is she alive? I’ll kill him!”
“She’s alive and which one do you plan to kill? Her father or Wesley?” Regan asked, standing over Bess.
Bess wiped away a tear. “The old man. Leah asked for what she got from Mr. Stanford.”
“Oh?” Regan asked with interest, extending her arm to Bess to help her stand. “Then Leah did throw herself at Wesley.”
“Oh yes. Stupid girl.” She glanced fondly at the sleeping Leah. “She’d have done anything for Mr. Stanford.”
Together Nicole and Regan ushered Bess to a chair. “Tell us,” they chorused.
Within a few minutes Bess had told the whole story.
“It was through Leah that Clay found me on that island,” Nicole said thoughtfully.
“And she’s loved Wesley all these years?” Regan said.