Chapter 5
The Wait
"That was sooooo good," Raylan said, pushing his chair away from the dinette table in their suite, making room for his expanded waistline. He literally cleaned his plate.
"There's more," Winona suggested.
"I couldn't," he patted his overly full tummy. "It was so good, my eyes were bigger than my stomach, but that didn't stop me."
"Is it as good as you remember?" Winona asked, still working on her pasta.
Turning his chair to angle his long legs out to the side of the table, Raylan leaned back even further in his chair and smiled. "Even better. You always were a good cook, but I think ya' outdid yourself this time. After all the restaurant faire we've been eatin', it's nice to have a home-cooked meal. Thank you."
"I really enjoy cooking … when I have the time," she raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Willa who was sitting in her infant seat on top of the table. Willa joined them earlier in a little plain pasta and butter.
Winona brought her glass of wine to her lips and took a sip of the Chianti.
"Do ya' think she'll go down for us tonight?" Raylan asked wistfully. "I mean, she didn't take a nap all day, even after bein' up all night." He looked over at his baby daughter and asked her, "How do you do it?"
"Gah," Willa responded, shaking the monkey up in the air.
"You do know that one of these days, Willa is going to answer you," Winona smiled. "And then, what are you going to do?"
Slowly stretching his arms over his head he answered, "Then, I'm in trouble. I'll just tell her to go ask you about anything she needs to know because, as we both know . . . I know nothin' about girls."
Winona glanced over at him and raised a concerned eyebrow, deciding not to offer him another glass of wine. "You're not going to fade on me so early, are you, Cowboy?"
"Not intentionally," he yawned, as if on cue.
"Because you promised me a night of wild abandon, to make up for last night. I kept my end of the bargain," she said, referring to the fabulous meal she prepared. After a beat, she added, "You should have taken that nap earlier today, when I offered you the chance."
"Honestly? I thought I'd have another chance this afternoon when a certain baby was supposed to take her nap," he yawned big, again. "But we both know that never happened."
"A rookie mistake," Winona teased. "Next time, when you get an offer from me to watch her so you can sleep? My advice is to take it."
He looked over at her with pained eyes. "Would ya' be upset with me if I lay down for an hour?" he asked, almost begging and apologizing at the same time.
Normally, she'd tell him that new parent fatigue is something he needed to buck up and get used to. She would show no mercy. But the truth was, Winona wasn't upset with him at all. She knew how hard waiting for this call from Anna was on him. If he could be distracted by sleep, so be it.
"Do you really want me to wake you in an hour?" she asked, knowing he could use more than twenty winks.
"Well, yeah," he leaned forward in his chair and stretched again. "There's ice cream in the freezer with my name on it . . . and . . . I promised ya' a night of wild abandon.
Winona smiled as she reached over squeezed his arm. "We'll see about that."
-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-
Anna came out of the Metro station and ducked into Pappas. Nico smiled at her from behind the counter. "The usual?"
She squinted at the menu taped to the counter, unwilling to fish in her purse for the dreaded glasses that would make it easier to read. "What's the special?"
"Today we have Balsamic Chicken with orzo and tomato salad or baked shrimp with zucchini and feta."
"I'll take the chicken," she said, pulling out her wallet. "And..."
"And two pieces of baklava," Nico added. He shook a finger at her. "I know you." He disappeared into the kitchen, and Anna used the time to check personal e-mail on her phone. Ben's popped up with the tiny paperclip signaling an attachment. She was about to click on it when Nico returned with a brown paper sack. After tucking several napkins inside, he handed it to her. "Enjoy with a nice Pinot Gris," he suggested.
"No drinking for me tonight." She patted the laptop bag slung over her shoulder. "Work."
That earned her another finger wag. "You work too much Miss Anna."
"Don't we all, Nico? Don't we all?" She handed him the money with a generous tip and headed out, walking the three blocks to the apartment at a steady pace.
Inside, she set the bag on the counter and extracted the laptop from its carrying case. She hated reading e-mails on the tiny phone screen, and if Ben had attached some kind of report or perhaps a picture, she wanted to read it without squinting.
She powered the iMac on and brought up her email account, surprised at how her heart was pounding as she clicked on Ben's name.
Anna. Here's the info you wanted. Seems like a straight-out-of-the-old-west lawman. Always gets his man, one way or another. Nothing out of the ordinary unless you remember a guy named Tommy Bucks out of Miami a few years back. Report is attached, along with his official photo. Take my advice and don't go down this particular romantic road. Love, Ben
She chuckled to herself. Ben thought she was having him check up on a romantic prospect. She clicked on the attachments and downloaded the picture first. He was definitely good-looking. And notably, White. That didn't surprise her. Her mother had told her she was bi-racial. Obviously, this Raylan was from the paler side of the family. Pulling her own Federal I.D. tag over her head, she lay it beside the computer, glancing from her face to the one on the screen, looking for any similarities. The shape of the mouth, maybe, and something in the eyes . . . other than that, she couldn't tell.
His number was still scrawled on the inside of her wrist. She copied it onto the pad beside the phone and stripped on her way to the bedroom, hanging up her pants and tossing the blouse into the dirty laundry basket in the closet. She slipped into jeans and Adam's Georgetown Hoya sweatshirt he'd left hanging on the doorknob. Back in the kitchen, she took a plate from the cupboard and transferred her food, carrying the plate and a bottle of Sam Adams into the living room.
Clicking the remote, she sat cross-legged on the floor with her plate on the coffee table and watched the national news while she ate. The food was good, as always. If Adam were there, he'd be scrawling down the ingredients he tasted on a napkin, positive that he'd be able to recreate it, and he probably would. The man was an amazing cook. If she was hungry and no restaurants were open, Anna could scramble an egg. Maybe. Adam was amazing in other ways, too, but after the wreck she'd made of her personal life in the recent past, she was being very careful.
She sipped her beer, trying not to think about the feel of Adam's hand sliding over her skin. Shivering, she pushed to her feet, carrying her plate to the kitchen. She set it in the sink and picked up the laptop, padding back to her spot on the floor. The news had faded into Jeopardy, the category "Famous First Lines for $500, Alex."
Alex Trebek said. "When he was nearly thirteen my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow."
Anna answered with the contestant. "What is To Kill a Mockingbird?" She ran that category, and the next two Kings of England and Word Origins. Her father always said she should have tried out for the high school or college tournament. She kept going, keeping a tally of her winnings in her head, out of habit.
She bet it all and bombed on Final Jeopardy, and when a tabloid entertainment show came on she flicked to CNN and opened the laptop. Opening Ben's email, she reread it and typed Tommy Bucks into the search engine. It took her to an article in the Miami Herald. She sipped her beer and read. It wasn't a flattering portrayal of either man, but to her view, Bucks had only gotten what he deserved. A little further research on the guy only solidified her opinion.
She went to the kitchen and picked up her phone, punching in the number Givens had left with her mother. What did she have to lose?
-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-
It was over an hour later, and Winona finished nursing and bathing Willa. She put the babe to sleep without a fuss in the bedroom where her daddy was softly snoring and appeared to be in a deep, deep sleep. Winona hated to wake him and decided to give him another fifteen or twenty minutes.
She cleaned up the kitchenette and put away the leftovers. Raylan would often tease her about cleaning up when room service was available. This trip would be no different.
As she scrubbed away tomato sauce splatters off the stove, the wait for Anna to call, or not to call, was beginning to grate on Winona, too. She couldn't imagine what it was doing to Raylan. She told herself that, whether Anna Dumois decided to contact him or not, he had to search this lead to its inevitable conclusion. Still, knowing this didn't make the wait any easier.
She also couldn't help but think that she was in no big hurry to get back to Miami. She did have a few things to take care of there, but nothing life shattering. She realized her new life with Raylan and Willa had already begun. They were all far away from Kentucky, away from the dangers so inherent in his job. She would enjoy it for as long as it lasted.
She flicked through the channels on the television. Raylan usually commandeered the remote, so it was nice to have the chance to watch something more to her taste. After a few minutes, she settled on Love It Or List It and sat on the couch, putting her feet up. One episode ended and another was about to start when she heard the trill of Raylan's cell. She picked it up from the end table where he had left it and glanced at the display. The number was unfamiliar. Was it Anna?
Nudging open the bedroom door she walked to the bed and nudged Raylan gently. No response. Another nudge, only harder. He rolled over, burying his face in the pillow, still snoring softly. The phone trilled again. She hesitated, then clicked Accept.
"Hello?" she answered, standing over Raylan's sleeping form.
Someone cleared his or her throat, then a female voice. "I'm trying to reach Raylan Givens. Is this his number?"
"Yes, it is," Winona said. "He's asleep right now. Is this Anna? Anna Dumoir?"
"Anna Rulé," she said. Another Cajun lilt to the pronunciation Ru-lay. "Yes. Who am I speaking with?"
"I'm Winona," she answered, still in a quandary as to what to do. "Raylan will be so pleased you called. Hold on just a second." She sat down next to him on the bed, shielding the mouthpiece with her hand. "Raylan? Raylan, please wake up," she begged, bouncing up and down on the mattress. The poor guy didn't respond. He was out cold.
Thinking in the moment, Winona could hear herself rambling on the phone. "Look, um . . . Raylan has been waiting, hoping he would hear from you. Our little one kept us up all last night teething. He stayed awake with her all day today so I could get some sleep and . . . well . . . he finally collapsed just a little while ago. I'm trying to wake him, and I can't. I don't know what to do."
"Oh, no. Don't wake him," Anna insisted. "Maybe I can talk to you?"
"Okay," Winona was little hesitant, hoping she wouldn't say the wrong thing. "Sure. Where should we start?" She laughed a little, uncomfortable. "Sorry. I've never been in a situation like this before."
"Neither have I," Anna said. "Although I've imagined it. Imagined contacting my birth parents. I'm sorry I never got the chance to meet them."
Winona bit her tongue, not wanting to touch that subject with a ten foot pole. "I didn't know them that well. I'll leave those stories for Raylan to tell."
"Oh? Was Raylan not close to his parents?"
"Raylan's mother died when he a boy," Winona explained. "He wasn't that close to his father."
"Oh, I see," Anna said, really seeing nothing. "So, according to my mother, I would be related to Raylan on his mother's side? He thinks he may be my half-brother?"
"That's right," Winona confirmed.
"And his mother was White?" Anna was direct.
"Yes," Winona confirmed. "Frances was White."
After a pause of silence, Anna asked, "Do you know who my father is? Was?"
"I'm sorry," Winona said. "I don't. And I don't know that Raylan does, either. But he's a marshal, and he traced the leads as far as he could with the information he had. His next step is to find you. You see, this is all news to him as of . . . about a week ago."
After another uncomfortable pause, Winona said, "I'm probably not telling this right or saying too much. I would feel terrible if I said something or made you think something that isn't right. I can't imagine being in your position. Or Raylan's."
"No, no, Winona," Anna said reassuringly. "You've been very helpful . . . and kind. I don't mean to overwhelm you with questions, but I'm anxious to find out everything I can. I understand I'm getting information a little second hand. Maybe you could just tell me about Raylan."
"Raylan," Winona smiled. "As you probably know, he's a U.S. Deputy Marshal. He's been in the Service for coming up on twenty years. He's a law and order kind of guy. And he's a good man."
"And a new father?" Anna expounded.
"A very new father," Winona offered. "Not that I have any more experience with babies than he does, but yes. Our daughter, Willa, is six, almost seven months old."
"And you all live in Kentucky?" she continued to pepper Winona with questions.
"We'll see," Winona tried to be truthful, yet not give too much away. "Raylan's based in Lexington, Kentucky right now, but he – we – have lived other places. I'm always campaigning for him to go back and teach firearms at Glynco."
"I get that," Anna said. "You're not far from Glynco, now."
"No, we're not," Winona decided to leave that part of the discussion right there. She also wanted to know more about Anna, yet didn't want to pry. She was afraid Raylan might be upset with her. Then, again, he might be upset if she didn't. "So, what about you? Your last name is Rulé. Are you married?"
"I was," she said. "Twice. I've had two failed marriages. I'm evidently not very good at it."
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, neither is Raylan," Winona suddenly felt comfortable enough to share. "I'm Raylan's ex. I'm also the mother of his daughter. And we're trying, again, to make a family with Willa. It seems we can't live with each other, but we can't live without each other, either."
"Damned if you do, and damned if you don't." Anna laughed. "I can totally relate."
"Do you have children?" Winona asked, knowing Anna must be in her late thirties.
"No," she answered. "Kids were never in the cards for me. But I am in a relationship with a musician, if that counts. My boyfriend's name is Adam Ralston."
"Sure, that counts," Winona smiled, feeling a little more at ease, feeling she was making some connections with the woman.
"He's a musician in a rock band. He's also a chef, a bartender. You know, a modern Renaissance man."
"A man who cooks for you? Oh, my gosh. That would be the best," Winona gushed.
"He cooks gourmet food for me," Anna bragged a little. "Considering I can barely make coffee, it works for me."
The two women were really hitting it off.
"Winona," Anna abruptly changed the subject. "I think you, Raylan, and Willa need to get together with Adam and me. What do you say?"
"Yes!" Winona blurted out next to Raylan who was still out. "Where? When?"
"I live in of D.C." Anna shared. "Maybe we could meet you half way or you all could come up here?"
"I'd love to see our nation's capital. I've never seen it before," Winona said. "How far a drive is it from Atlanta?"
"Nine, ten hours," Anna answered. "But you want to miss the rush hours, which are really more like two to three hours. Tomorrow is Friday. Want to make it a weekend? I can get you the names of a safe hotel nearby that has discounts for law enforcement."
"Are you in the hospitality business?" Winona asked, impressed by her knowledge.
"Sort of," Anna was intentionally vague, no wanting to share about her employer over the phone. "You have my cell number from the call. Let me give you our address."
Anna proceeded to give Winona her address and texted her the name, website, and address for Club Quarters, near the White House. Unbeknownst to Winona, Anna would make sure they got the maximum discount, as Ms. Rulé had her town wired.
"Great!" Anna said. "I'm glad we hit it off. I will warn you. I'm cautious by nature. We're going to have to get DNA testing and all that jazz. But as a first step, I think this initial contact went very well."
"You know, Raylan is also cautious by nature. But I'm with you, Anna. Without sounding presumptuous, I feel like I already know you. Which is strange because we've not even met."
"It's not just you, Winona. You and I clicked. Tell Raylan I'm sorry he missed my call. I'll talk to him tomorrow night, either by phone or in person, whichever comes first," she assured Winona. "And I look forward to meeting all of you very soon."
Winona disconnected the call and looked down at her sleeping cowboy. She couldn't wait to tell him the news. Too excited to sleep, she began to get them packed for the next leg of their journey he had yet to find out about.
(To be continued . . .)