Free The Last Honorable Man by Vickie Taylor

the time he’d detached the bush from the seat of his jeans and turned back to Elisa, she had her lower lip pulled between her teeth. One giggle escaped as he stood gaping at her, then another.
    He rubbed his backside, and she laughed outright. The sound was like champagne—full of sparkles and bubbles and potent enough to get a man drunk just listening to it.
    Then the nine-o’clock bells called the faithful to service at St. Thomas, and the moment ended as unexpectedly as it had begun.
    A new wall of guilt crashed down on Del. He felt as if God spoke to him through the bells. He had no right enjoying Elisa’s laugh, much less her touch or the way she looked in his old clothes. She was another man’s woman.
    At least she had been.
    Elisa cocked her head, listening to the deep, chiming melody with her fingertips pressed to her pursed lips. When the bells quieted she asked, her eyes hopeful, “There is a church near here?”
    He nodded, regret burning the back of his throat. “Half mile down the road.”
    â€œI would like to go.”
    He angled his head in capitulation. “Sure.”
    He couldn’t sit with her, couldn’t risk being seen with her, but he could drop her off, circle around and sneak into a back pew where he could keep an eye on her.
    It had been a long time since he’d bent a knee in prayer. Maybe it would do him good.
    He had a lot to ask forgiveness for.
    Â 
    â€œThis does not look like a bank,” Elisa said, twisting in her seat to peer at the four-story white granite building Del had pulled up to.
    â€œIsn’t.”
    She frowned. “Then why have we stopped here?” Yesterday, after church, he’d taken her shopping and bought more than she needed—more than she had ever owned—to take with her when she left. At his insistence, she had picked out two summer shirts, matching shorts with soft elastic waists and a shift dress that would accommodate her expanding midsection for some time. To her surprise he’d added a bathrobe, a baggy sweatsuit, a pair of knit pants, two blouses and sneakers along with a wide assortment of toiletries and underwear.
    Surely she couldn’t need anything else.
    He wiped his palm over his left thigh, a sign she’d learned meant she wouldn’t like what came next. “I made you a doctor’s appointment. Figured you’d want to make sure everything’s all right with the baby before you took off.”
    Her palm immediately covered her abdomen. Her face tensed. “‘All…all right’?”
    â€œRelax, it’s just routine. She’ll check you out, maybe even let you listen to the little one’s heartbeat.”
    â€œYou don’t think anything is wrong?”
    â€œI’m sure it’s not. You’re just a little…thin, is all. She’ll probably give you some vitamins or something.” His smile was wide, bright, reassuring and totally false.
    Thin? She tried to remember how many full meals—much less healthy ones—she had eaten before she took up with the ranger. Other than the mango and bananas that grew plentifully in San Ynez, fruits and vegetables were hard to come by, fresh meat almost nonexistent. Mostly she lived off dried beans and canned meat. Food that could be packed quickly and carried easily from camp to camp.
    Inside the office building, Del spoke quietly to the nurse at the front desk. The woman’s hair was bleached white, and she wore pink scrubs with teddy bears floating in clouds and looked at Elisa sympathetically.
    Elisa stared at her feet self-consciously. She sat in a chair in the waiting area and picked up a magazine. Seconds later she had forgotten about the nurse and was engrossed in an article titled The Healthy Pregnancy. The article was illustrated, and the women’s swollen bodies fascinated her. Would she really look like that soon? For all her education, she was woefully ignorant about