Annie's Song Part 22

A smile touched her mouth, and, opening her eyes, she looked into the stall. The mare stood in the center of the enclosure, her liquid brown eyes resting curiously on the two humans who had intruded upon her peace. Beside her, his long, gangly legs spread wide for balance, was her colt. Head tucked under his mama's belly, he was eagerly suckling, his small broom of a tail uplifted and making quick little rotations.

Alex leaned forward so she could see him. "See that tail?

It's his pump handle. Every time he sucks, his tail goes up and down."

Annie giggled.

"I'm glad you like him. Before winter's over, he'll probably seem like part of the family. He's out of season. Most foals come in the spring, which gives them plenty of time to mature before harsh weather hits. We'll have to pamper this little fellow."

That said, Alex hunched his shoulders to rest his chin beside her ear. Just below her temple, she could feel the slight rasp of whiskers. The scent of bergamot from his shaving cologne filled her senses.

Suddenly, as though disturbed by the unaccustomed weight of his hands, the baby inside her wiggled. Not a little wiggle as she usually felt, but a big one. She jumped with a start, and she felt Alex's chest jerk with a laugh, the deep vibrations of it moving through her like suns.h.i.+ne.

Repositioning his hands, he gently palpitated her hard roundness. The baby accommodated him, s.h.i.+fting to escape the intrusive pressure. Annie felt a warm flush creeping up her neck.

Alex must have felt the heat rising against his cheek, for he leaned around to regard her face with twinkling amber eyes.

"Don't be shy, Annie love. This is my baby, just as you are mine. Feeling the life inside you is like touching a miracle."

Placing her hands over his, Annie let her eyes fall closed again. For reasons beyond her, being held like this by him felt absolutely right. Wonderfully right. She didn't want to move, never wanted him to take his arms away. Their baby. The sweetness of that nearly brought tears to her eyes again, only this time, tears of happiness.

For a long while, they simply stood there, Annie leaning against him, he supporting her weight. The feeling that filled her was very like the feeling she got when she watched the sunrise, as if G.o.d had sent her a song.

As they left the stable, Alex's thoughts were focused entirely on the girl who walked within the circle of his arm.

She had made no objection when he told her the baby was his, that she was his. He prayed to G.o.d she had no objections. He was in too deep to turn back now. Head over heels in love.

Irrevocably so. She had brought joy into his life beyond his wildest dreams, a sweet, wondrous joy that made every breath he took seem worthwhile. Seeing the world through her eyes had given him a new appreciation of it. Newborn foals. Mice in the attic. Waltzing to silent melodies. Drinking tea that didn't exist. She was both child and woman, wrapped up in one, a delightful blend, and he loved both.

To lose her now ... Just the thought made Alex ache, so he pushed it from his mind. She belonged to him in the eyes of G.o.d and man. The child she carried was his. Nothing was ever going to change that. He wouldn't allow it to, because to lose her, now that he had found her, would be to die inside.

Eighteen.

The following morning, a wagonload of merchandise was delivered to Montgomery Hall, all of it for Annie. Alex felt like a kid at Christmas as he directed the men through the house to his study, which from now on was going to be a combination study and music room.

When Maddy saw the organ, she raised dubious eyebrows.

"Master Alex, are ye sure ye want a noisemaker like that in yer study? How will ye ever be able to concentrate?"

Alex intended to have complete concentration, just not necessarily on his accounts. Weeks ago, he had decided that the way to court his wife was with sound. He'd be d.a.m.ned if he'd put all his lures in another room.

"Where is Annie now?" he asked Maddy.

"Up in the nursery. Drawing again, I think."

Alex smiled, so anxious to show Annie all that he'd bought her that he ran out to the wagon and grabbed a crate of merchandise himself. "We can git it, Mr. Montgomery," one of the men a.s.sured him. "This is our job."

"I don't mind helping."

Alex carried the box into his study and set it on his desk.

Fis.h.i.+ng his knife from his pocket, he cut the binding and tape, then folded the lid back. Ear trumpets. Almost reverently, Alex lifted one from the box. He flashed a grin at Maddy.

"Annie's hearing aids! Now I can start her lessons."

"You playin' teacher! Rememberin' yer marks in school, that'll be a sight to see."

"I'm going to teach her the manual alphabet and sign language," Alex p.r.o.nounced. "Just you watch. I'll be a great tutor. I just didn't want to start until these came." He held up an ear trumpet. "With any luck at all, Maddy, she'll be able to hear with these. Maybe not clearly, but anything will help."

Maddy moved to the desk and took a medium-sized ear trumpet from the box. Peeling away the paper, she inserted the earpiece into her ear. Alex leaned forward and said "h.e.l.lo"

into the bell flare. She jumped, jerked the trumpet from her head, and cried, "Blessed Mother!"

Alex laughed and grabbed the horn from her. Putting it to his ear, he said, "Say something to me."

"Ye busted me eardrum!" Maddy nearly shouted.

"Jeee-sus Christ!" He rubbed the side of his head, gazing at the trumpet with new respect. "That's amazing. Absolutely amazing."

After the deliverymen left, Alex spent nearly an hour arranging all Annie's instruments about the room. He refrained from trying any of them out, fearful that she might hear the sounds and be drawn to the study before he was ready for her.

Finally, the moment of presentation arrived. So excited to see her face that he could scarcely bear the suspense, Alex took his seat at the organ. With a deep breath and a prayer, he experimentally worked the foot pedals. Then he began to play.

Well, not exactly play. He hadn't a clue how to make music on the d.a.m.ned thing. But the noise was glorious. Within just a few minutes, the door to his study crashed open and Annie came in, hands folded over her swollen waist, eyes round with wonder.

Alex continued to fill the room with sound, grinning at her over his shoulder. As though mesmerized, she moved toward him, her gaze glued to the organ. When she was finally within arm's reach, she put out a hand, touching the polished wood almost prayerfully. Then she moved closer, running both hands over the organ's surface. The look that came over her face made foe organ worth every penny he'd spent on it.

Blissful, that was how she looked. Absolutely blissful.

Keeping her hands pressed to the wood, she closed her eyes, her rapturous smile so sweet that he ached.

Alex stopped playing, grabbed her hand, and drew her down to the bench. "You play it," he encouraged her.

She folded her hands again and pressed them to her bodice as if she were afraid to touch the keys. Alex clasped her wrists, forced her arms down, and guided her rigid fingers onto the slats of ivory. After catching her eye, he said, "It's yours, Annie. I bought it for you."

She gave him an incredulous look. Then she swung her gaze back to the organ. Chuckling, Alex showed her how to work the thing. Within seconds, she was about to blast him out of the room. He stood back to watch her. Of all the things he might have given her, he realized, the musical instruments had been inspirational.

In the organ, Annie had found a dream come true. That seemed fitting. Since knowing her, she had made some dreams come true for him as well. Impossible dreams. Finding and marrying an angel. Loving someone more than he loved himself. Having a real reason for living.

Until suppertime, Annie stayed in his study, not because he insisted this time, but because nothing could have dragged her away. From the organ, she went to the sleigh bells. From that instrument, she moved on to others.

The house was filled with noise. A rather earsplitting, awful noise, to be sure, but it was made beautiful for Alex by one fact, that Annie could hear some of the chords. He didn't care that she quickly learned how to strike those notes she heard best and repeated them, over and over, over and over. She was having the time of her life.

At mealtime, Alex made her stop playing with the instruments long enough to eat. As they began to partake of the first course, Maddy came in with a pot of tea, which she sat in the middle of the table with a rather loud plunk. Alex shot her a questioning glance.

"Is something amiss, Maddy?"

"Eh?"

Alex repeated himself.

Maddy c.o.c.ked her head. "What's that ye say?"

Convinced she was being sarcastic about all the noise Annie had been making, Alex settled back in his chair, eyeing her with a level gaze. "I don't find this amusing, Maddy."

With a disgruntled frown, the housekeeper poked a finger in one ear, fished about for a moment, and plucked out a ball of cotton. "I'm sorry, Master Alex. I didn't catch that."

Alex stared at the woman for a moment, then threw back his head and barked with laughter. Annie, busily shoveling food into her mouth so she could finish eating and return to the study, never looked up.

The following morning, Alex decided it was high time that he begin Annie's lessons. The instant he tried to act on that decision, however, he found himself with a very unhappy young lady on his hands. Annie, fascinated with all the noisemakers he had provided for her, wanted to do nothing but play with them. When Alex drew her to his desk and made her sit down, she got a mutinous expression on her face and then proceeded to pout. Actually pout. His angel, Alex realized, was getting just a little spoiled around her edges.

Drawing up his chair, he sat down beside her and reached for the publications Dr. Muir had procured for him, James S.

Brown's A Vocabulary of Mute Signs and W. P. Clark's The Indian Sign Language which, to Alex's delight, contained about a thousand verbally described entries and related each to the equivalent in American Sign Language, thus making the book a dictionary of both Indian and American sign. In addition to the publications were two carbon copied pamphlets that had been compiled especially for Alex by a woman in Albany who worked extensively with the deaf in a cla.s.sroom environment.

"Work before play," he told his wife firmly. "It's time you began filling that pretty little head of yours with some knowledge, Annie love."

He opened a publication and began leafing through the pages to locate the manual alphabet. When he glanced back up, Annie had lifted an ear trumpet off his desk and was blowing with all her might into the earpiece. Alex watched her for a moment with an indulgent smile, then he plucked the hearing aid from her hands and poked one end of it in her ear. Holding up his right hand, fingers folded against his palm, thumb extended upward and pressed against them, he leaned forward and boomed into the flare bell, "A!"

Annie jumped as though he'd stuck her with a pin and jerked the trumpet from her ear to stare at it. After a moment, she thrust it into her ear again, her expression expectant. Alex realized she thought the trumpet had made the noise all by itself.

"No, no, Annie love. That was me." Elated that she actually seemed to have heard him, Alex made certain she kept it in her ear while he made a great show of putting his mouth to the flare bell. "That was me, Annie," he yelled.

She jumped again. But this time she didn't pluck the horn from her ear. Instead she grabbed Alex by the hair of his head and stuffed the lower half of his face into the bell. By this point, he was laughing so hard he couldn't have spoken if he tried.

As his mirth subsided, he met her gaze over the bell wire. All urge to laugh left him. Her eyes held more raw emotion than he'd ever seen before. Guarded hope. Disbelief. Wary joy. His chest tightened. Drawing back so she might see his mouth as he spoke, he loudly proclaimed, "I love you."

She stared at him for a moment, tears gathering and sparkling like diamonds in her blue eyes. Then, to his dismay, the tears spilled over her lashes to run in glistening rivulets down her cheeks. As he watched, it seemed to him her entire face began to quiver, first her mouth, then her chin, then the little muscles beneath her eyes. Alex drew back from the trumpet bell. "Honey, don't cry. I thought this would make you happy."

The trumpet went flying as she launched herself into his arms. Shaken by her reaction, he pressed a hand over her back and ran his other through her hair. He felt her body jerk with a sob. Then, as though her heart were breaking, she scrambled out of his arms and ran from the study.

Concerned, Alex followed her upstairs, only to find that she had once again levered the door closed with a chair. And this time, no matter how he tried to tempt her, she wouldn't open it.

Annie sat in the middle of her bed, rocking back and forth, hands covering her face. Holding her breath to stifle her sobs, she wept disconsolately. He loved her. He had told her as much the night before last. But until a few moments ago when she'd looked into his eyes as he said the words, she hadn't thought about the consequences of such an attachment-not for herself, but for him.

He loved her. Seeing his expression as he said the words-oh, G.o.d! Annie choked on a strangled breath, recalling the sense of helplessness that had filled her when she couldn't say the words back to him.

Half a person, that was she. Deaf. Nothing he did, nothing he gave her, could ever change that. Nothing. All her life, she'd been shunned by normal people, an outcast wherever she went, unable to make friends, unable to attend church, forbidden even to go to town. Not that she'd really wanted to do any of those things, for doing them only brought her pain. It wasn't any fun to be gaped at and tormented, or to have people whisper about her, thinking she didn't know what they said.

She did know because, whispers or no, she could read their lips. There's that Annie Trimble, the dummy. Poor thing.

Annie the dummy. Annie the dummy.

Was that to be her gift to Alex? Nothing but pain? Was that what she wanted to bring into his life? To avoid hurt, she'd been content to stay apart from people, content to live half a life. For years, she'd understood that half of a life was all that she could expect. But Alex could have so much more. Fresh tears filled Annie's eyes, setting fire to the back of her throat.

Alex was wonderful. Not just handsome, but gentle and kind as well. He could have any woman he wanted. Annie felt certain that every pretty lady in town would adore being in her shoes, the sole recipient of all his attention. Why should he have to settle for a deaf girl? Not only a deaf girl, but a girl who couldn't even tell him she loved him.

Annie knew what would happen if she let this situation continue. Soon people would start to shun Alex, not over anything he'd done, but because he was a.s.sociated with her.

Before he knew it, he'd have no friends. He wouldn't even be invited to go to people's houses to visit. And no one would want to visit him here because of her. Annie the dummy. All she was good for, all she'd ever be good for, was to give people something to stare at.

Annie had never known anyone quite like Alex. Since she'd come to Montgomery Hall, he had changed her life. She loved him better than she'd ever loved anyone. She couldn't bear to see bad things start happening to him because of her. He needed someone else to love. Someone who could make him happy, not the other way around.

Having reached that decision, Annie cried until she was exhausted and had no tears left to shed. Then she contemplated ways in which she might inform Alex of her feelings. He wasn't good enough at lipreading yet for her to communicate with him that way, and trying to act it out would be impossible.

Pondering the problem, she suddenly remembered the night he had drawn her a picture to tell her about the baby.

Alex paced. Across the hall. Up the stairs. To the nursery.

Then he retraced his steps. Again and again. Then again.

Pretty soon, he lost count of how many times he ascended the stairway. Something was horribly wrong. He'd seen it in her eyes. But he couldn't imagine what. He'd thought the ear trumpets would make her wildly happy. Instead she had burst into tears. Why? No matter how Alex circled it, he could find no answer.

When he finally heard the telltale creak of door hinges, he was midway up the staircase, executing what seemed to him the thousandth climb. The slight sound of her opening the door sent him flying up the remainder of the steps. Racing along the hall, he braked to a stop outside her door. Annie stood just inside the room, her small hand on the doork.n.o.b, her face as white as milk. By the redness around her eyes, he knew she'd been crying.

Backing up a step, she motioned for him to come in. Alex had a bad feeling about this. She avoided his gaze as he stepped into the room. Then, with a decisive little click, she closed the door behind him. Still not looking at him, she crossed quickly to the table where she picked up a sheet of paper and held it out to him.

"What's this?" Alex closed the distance between them and took the paper in a tense hand. After studying the drawing she'd done, he said, "Annie, this is astounding. You're very talented."

She had sketched their head-and-shoulder likenesses, and her attention to detail was incredible. Aside from the work of professional artists, Alex had never seen such mastery. With nothing but charcoal and paper, she'd brought him to life. He smiled slightly at the expression she'd captured on his face.

Did he truly look at her that way, with a rakish grin and a lascivious gleam in his eyes? He supposed he must and couldn't help but marvel that she hadn't slapped him silly a couple of times for the affront. Not that Annie would recognize lecherousness if it ran up and bit her on the behind.

His gaze drifted to her image, which seemed a little off-plumb to him somehow. After studying the likeness for a moment, he realized that she had captured herself on paper much as she probably appeared to herself in a mirror, unsmiling, with no trace of the innocent sweetness or candid expressions that had stolen his heart. The eyes held no emotion or sparkle. No dimple flashed in her cheek. Annie, with no l.u.s.trous glow, still beautiful, but a face without any soul.

There was something else that didn't seem quite right.

Something missing. But for a moment, he couldn't pinpoint what it was. After studying the drawing awhile longer, Alex finally noted the flaw and looked up at her, his heart in his throat.

Annie had drawn herself without ears.

With a trembling hand, Alex put the drawing back on the table. He was about to speak when she s.n.a.t.c.hed up another and shoved it into his hands. He glanced down and saw another perfectly executed sketch of Annie's face, only it was minus the ears as well as a mouth.

Alex's first instinct was to rip the drawing into tiny pieces and tell her to stop being ridiculous. But the bruised look in her eyes forestalled him. This was very serious business to her, and judging by the pinched tightness of her mouth, calling attention to what she obviously believed were her inadequacies was painful for her. Extremely painful.

Tossing down the drawing, Alex sat on one of the chairs.

Patting a knee, he said, "Come here, sweetheart."

She folded her arms under her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and shook her head, the stubborn set to her chin making her look more adorable than anything else. Alex also couldn't help noticing that the position of her slender arms was causing an upward thrust of certain parts of her anatomy. The dressmaker, following his explicit instructions, had cut the necklines of her gowns a bit low. Nothing immodest, but low enough to provide a lovely display of her feminine attributes, which had become more generous with her advancing pregnancy. The way Alex saw it, if he couldn't partake of the meal, the least he deserved was an occasional glimpse of the menu.

He patted his knee again. "Come on, honey. I just want to talk with you." That was, without a doubt, the biggest falsehood he'd ever told.