CHAPTER TWENTY
Nessa hadn’t spoken to Gordon in two days. Two very difficult days. Sylvia had hounded her constantly, until she felt she had no choice but to delay the wedding. She decided to explain this to Gordon by writing a letter. She wanted no room for misunderstanding between them. She fully intended to marry him and only wanted to postpone setting the day—just until her children had the opportunity to meet him. That wasn’t an unreasonable request. It would help if she met Miles, too.
What she didn’t tell Gordon was that he had a lot to make up for in the eyes of her daughter. Sylvia had taken such delight in telling her that Gordon had hired a private detective, who’d investigated her background, her life and her finances. Nessa could say nothing in Gordon’s defense and decided it would be best if Gordon did the explaining himself. She decided she wouldn’t mention the detective directly; she’d hint at it by discussing Sylvia’s concerns.
The letter required a great deal of thought and several handwritten drafts.
My dearest Gordon,
It pains me to write this letter, but I want everything to be as clear as I can make it. Most important of all, please know that I’ll always treasure our time together in Kansas City.
We’d talked earlier about giving ourselves time to analyze our feelings before making any decisions regarding the future of our relationship. Neither one of us is young and neither one of us expected to fall in love.
So often in life what seems right one moment can seem wrong the next. We’re both mature enough to recognize the consequences of our decision to marry. In the airport, marriage seemed such a logical and wonderful next step. I knew then and I know now how much I love you, but there are other considerations, other factors neither of us can ignore.
My children, mainly my daughter, have raised a number of valid points, and I’m sure Miles has his own concerns. It’s because of our children that I feel we should postpone the wedding. This is an important decision and one that shouldn’t be rushed. I know what you’re thinking, but, my darling, believe me when I tell you how much I love you. I don’t want to wait, either, but I think we have to—at least until everyone in my family has the opportunity to get to know everyone in yours, and vice versa.
Please don’t be upset with me. I sincerely feel this is for the best. I love you and I want to marry you, but right now, I’m not sure when.
Please call me so we can discuss all of this. I’ve missed hearing from you.
Love,
Nessa
She reread the letter three times and then before she could change her mind, she walked over to the post office to mail it. Nessa was worried about Gordon’s silence and depressed about putting off the wedding, but she didn’t know what else to do.
Much as she hated to admit it, Sylvia’s concerns were valid. Nessa had accepted Gordon’s proposal impulsively. It was too soon; they hadn’t taken their families into proper consideration. And there was another major question Sylvia had raised: Where would they live?
When she returned from the post office, the phone was ringing. Rushing to reach it before the answering machine came on, she was out of breath when she answered.
“Nessa?” the male voice asked hesitantly.
“Gordon, oh, Gordon, it’s so good to hear from you! Why haven’t you phoned?”
“Why haven’t you phoned me?” he challenged.
His defiant tone took her by surprise. “That was because—”
“For the record, I did phone,” Gordon said, breaking off her explanation, “and talked to your daughter. I take it she didn’t relay the message.”
“No. I’m very sorry. Had I known, I would have called you back immediately.”
Her apology was followed by a short strained silence. “I’m sorry, too,” he murmured. Then, “How are you?”
She almost gave in to the impulse to lie and tell him everything was fine, but she didn’t. Because it wasn’t. “Not so good. How about you?”
“I’m holding up. What’s happening on your end?”
Nessa sank into a chair, more miserable and lonely than ever. “My daughter met my plane. She was furious with me.”
“My son wasn’t pleased, either.”
“Sylvia and her brothers insist we delay the wedding.”
“In other words, she doesn’t want you to marry me.”
She understood his anger and disappointment; she was experiencing the same emotions herself.
“What did you tell her?”
Nessa bit her lower lip, calling herself a coward for letting him down, for not standing up to her family.
“Nessa?”
“I…I agreed to a delay. What could I say when you had a private detective asking questions about me?” she said in an anguished voice. “Don’t you realize things like that get back to people? Why did you do such a thing, Gordon? Why?”
His lack of response told her everything. Sylvia had enjoyed filling in the ugly details, and it had been both painful and humiliating to listen.
Finally he said, “You told Sylvia you’d put off the wedding?”
“Yes.”
“What you really agreed to do was to break off the relationship with me entirely,” Gordon said in a calm cold voice.
“That’s not true! I told you in Kansas City that I love you and I meant it.”
“But apparently not enough to refuse to listen to your daughter.”
“That’s unfair! All I’m asking is that we hold off until we can answer a few important questions.”
“Such as?”
“Well, where we’ll live…”
Gordon sighed. “The answer seems perfectly obvious to me. We can spend winters in Texas and summers in Toronto. These are excuses, Nessa, not reasons. What I said earlier is true, isn’t it? You agreed to abide by your daughter’s wishes and in the same breath turned your back on me.”
“I didn’t!”
“Please don’t tell me you love me again. You’ll do us both a disservice. As for that private detective, you don’t have a lot of room to talk.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He ignored her question. “I suspect the next thing that’ll happen is a polite note in the mail, explaining your decision.”
Nessa’s heart sank, since that was exactly what would take place.
“You’ll tell me as diplomatically as possible that we both need time, and frankly, I agree with you. We do need time. Perhaps it’d be best if we didn’t talk for a while. I’ll tell you what, Nessa, next time around you can phone me.”
“Gordon, please listen—”
“Goodbye.”
She wanted to shout at him to come back, to let her explain, but the line had gone dead. Slowly she replaced the receiver, so much in pain she actually felt numb.
A day was all she could stand. Twenty-four miserable hours was all it took before she realized they had to settle this, or they were both destined for heartache. She thought it best that Gordon meet her children and they could judge him for themselves.
It hurt that not one of her three children trusted her ability to recognize a man of character. She was sure that once Sylvia and the boys met Gordon, they’d have all the answers they needed. If they didn’t…well, she mused with a deep sigh, they’d cross that bridge when they came to it.
With her pulse raging, Nessa waited until evening and then punched out Gordon’s phone number. Three rings later, a man answered. It wasn’t Gordon.
“May I take a message?” he asked with stiff politeness.
“Please,” Nessa said. “My name’s Vanessa Boyd.”
“Oh.” His voice, already cool, dropped to subfreezing temperatures. “This is Miles Pawling. Gordon’s son.”
“Hello, Miles,” she said, refusing to allow his unfriendliness to deter her. “Your father’s mentioned you often.”
“I’ll bet he has. Has he also mentioned that I’m opposed to this wedding you’ve supposedly planned?”
So Gordon had faced family disapproval, as well. That explained a great deal. “No, he hasn’t, but I’m hoping you’ll give me a chance, Miles. I happen to love your father very much.”
“You love his bank balance more, though, right?”
“I beg your pardon?” Nessa struggled with her composure. What a cruel and ugly thing to say.
“My father’s a wealthy man, but then you already know that, don’t you, Mrs. Boyd?”
“Yes,” she agreed softly. “Your father is rich—in strength of character, intelligence and grace. The truth is, I wasn’t aware of his financial standing, but now that I am, this all makes a lot more sense. You’re worried that I’m only interested in him because of his money.”
“Isn’t that so?”
“You vastly underrate your father, Miles.” And her, too, but she didn’t say that. Nessa heard a voice in the background and knew it was Gordon. “You don’t need to tell him I phoned,” she said quietly. “Goodbye, Miles, and don’t worry, I won’t trouble either of you again.”
She didn’t wait for a response, and with tears stinging her eyes, she broke the connection.
* * *
Glen Patterson saw the For Sale sign posted in the front yard of his parents’ bed-and-breakfast when he parked his truck. His father had talked over the decision with both sons, but seeing the realty sign was almost more than Glen could bear.
Phil opened the door for him, and Glen had to admit he looked better than he had in months. They’d hired a caregiver to come six days a week, which provided him with some help and much-needed relief. Caring for his wife had been demanding enough, but hiding her illness and keeping up appearances in the community had taken a terrible toll on his own health.
“How’s Mom?” Glen asked, following him into the kitchen.
“She’s not doing too badly today.” Phil shrugged. “Tomorrow might be worse. It changes…. But right now she’s a little more aware, remembering a few things. I value days like this when they happen.”
Glen loved and admired his father, and never more than in the past few weeks. His optimistic outlook in the face of ongoing tragedy was far and above anything Glen had thought possible.
“I see the house is listed,” he said casually.
Phil nodded. “The agent thinks it’ll sell quickly.”
“Good. Have you decided where you want to move?”
Pulling out a chair at the kitchen table, Phil shook his head. “As little as two weeks ago I assumed a smaller house and a caregiver would be the best solution, but now I don’t think…” He paused and pinched the bridge of his nose, then looked away, tears glistening in his eyes. “Pretty soon your mother’s going to need more care than I and a single caregiver can provide.” He paused. “We were at the doctor’s this afternoon.”
“Dr. Curtis?” The geriatric specialist in San Antonio. “What did he say?”
“Unfortunately, your mother’s not responding as well as he’d hoped to the medication.”
“What does all this mean?” Glen asked, fighting back his own emotions.
“I won’t be able to care for her at home much longer,” his father said quietly.
“What if we hired a second caregiver?”
“Glen, I can’t afford it.” Glancing down at his hands, he muttered, “The cost of even one is crippling me financially. The insurance doesn’t cover this.”
“But family and friends could pitch in.” Glen knew that now that Dovie and Frank were aware of Mary’s condition, they dropped in nearly every day. Reverend Wade McMillen had become a regular visitor and spent part of the time with his mother, but much of his visit was with Phil.
“You and your brother have your own lives. The same with Dovie and Frank. I won’t ask that of any of you.”
“But this is Mom,” Glen argued.
“Sometimes she barely recognizes you.”
“It doesn’t matter. I recognize her,” Glen returned. “We can’t put her in a home. That’s not what you’re thinking, is it?” Glen wouldn’t stand for it. He loved his father and acknowledged that this was a difficult time, but he wouldn’t abandon his mother.
His father wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“Dad, please. I’ll help more. Just tell me what you need me to do.”
“You have a family of your own, and then there’s the ranch. Cal’s a new father and Jane needs him.”
“This is our mother. Your wife.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Phil’s voice cracked. “You think this is an easy decision? I pray to God it’s not a decision you’ll ever have to make. It’d be easier to rip out my own heart than see your mother in a home.” He looked directly at Glen. “Do you know what happened yesterday? She went in to take a bath and forgot how to turn off the water. The entire bathroom was flooded by the time I realized something was wrong. Glen, we can’t go on this way!”
The air throbbed with anguish as both men struggled to hold back their tears.
“I was at a retirement complex in San Antonio this afternoon,” his father said, his voice raw. “The place has a number of small apartments, so we could move in there and keep some of the things your mother’s treasured over the years. It would feel like home to her, and frankly, I don’t think it’ll be long before she can’t tell the difference.”
“What about…later?” It went without saying what “later” meant.
“There are medical facilities and staff available for when that time comes. She won’t be able to stay in the apartment with me, but…but I’ll just be a few floors away. Whenever possible, I’ll be with her.”
With her, but without the grueling responsibility constant care demanded. It seemed a good solution. The only solution. Better than anything Glen could come up with.
“Dr. Curtis recommended I check out the facility, although he had nothing but good things to say.”
“The cost?” Glen knew he’d be willing to do whatever he could to help financially. So would Cal.
“It’s not as bad as I thought. The apartments, all utilities, meals and some of the medical expenses are included in a flat rate.” He named a figure that seemed exorbitant to Glen, until he took into account everything it covered. “I’ll have the money from the house, don’t forget.”
Glen nodded, looking regretfully around the charming kitchen his mother had decorated.
“I’m doing the best I can,” his father whispered.
“I know, Dad. I know.”
A few minutes later Glen went in to see his mother, who smiled up at him expectantly, as if waiting for him to identify himself. Her earlier awareness was evidently gone. They sat and watched television together, and then Glen rose to leave.
His father walked him to the door. Glen hugged his father for a long moment. “The retirement place is a good idea, Dad.”
Phil nodded and they broke apart.
* * *
Amy McMillen, the pastor’s wife, came into Tumbleweed Books and gleefully told Annie, “Wade has the children for the day, and I’ve got instructions to indulge myself with a good book.”
“That sounds heavenly,” Annie said as she stepped toward the cash register. Now that she, too, was both a wife and mother, her own reading time was severely curtailed—but she had no regrets. “Any special reason he’s giving you a free day?”
“It’s my birthday, and when he asked me what I wanted, I told him twenty-four hours to myself.”
“It’ll be good for him, too,” Annie told her. “He’ll have a greater understanding of all the work you do—and appreciate you even more.”
“Yes, I’m sure he will,” Amy said, smiling softly. She wandered about the store and after twenty minutes or so, set the book she wanted on the counter. “How’s married life treating you?”
“Wonderful,” Annie said and felt her cheeks heat. “Really wonderful.”
Amy glanced up from the check she was writing. “Wade said this would happen.”
“What do you mean?”
“Early on he told me that he felt your marriage to Lucas would be a strong one.”
During their counseling session before the wedding, Wade had told them that as long as they were open and honest with each other and willingly agreed to the terms they’d set forth, their marriage would remain healthy.
“Well, I’m incredibly happy,” Annie said, almost afraid to say the words out loud.
“Everything about you tells me that.” Amy reached across the counter to squeeze Annie’s hand. “It’s the way I felt when I realized how much I loved Wade…and yet at the same time I was terrified.” She finished writing the check and handed it to Annie. “I’m so glad you came to Promise.”
“Me, too. Jane was right—the town needed a bookstore.”
“That’s true, but I was thinking that you needed Promise and we needed you.”
“Thank you, Amy,” Annie said, remembering that Jane had said something like this the very first day she’d arrived in Promise.
The conversation was on Annie’s mind all day. Amy’s description of happiness tinged by fear fit her own emotional state. She supposed the fear was of loss, of losing what she’d gained but had never expected to have.
She did a brisk business that afternoon and was ready to close for the night when Jane entered the store, carrying Paul in his infant seat. He was sound asleep, and his innocence, his vulnerability, clutched at Annie’s heart. She breathed in his baby scent, smiling as Jane put the seat on the counter between them.
“No one told me it’d take half an hour to get a baby ready for a trip into town,” Jane said, slipping the diaper bag off her shoulder and putting it on the floor.
“Don’t tell me you’re complaining already?” Annie teased.
“I’m not complaining,” Jane said. “It’s just that I started to rely on having a couple of pairs of extra hands while Mom and Dad were here. I really miss them.”
Annie missed them, too. Because she and Jane had been close friends for so many years, Annie had come to think of Stephanie Dickinson as a substitute mother. She hadn’t seen nearly as much of the Dickinsons after Jane left for medical school, but they’d kept in touch. Their recent visit had been good all around, and Annie experienced a renewed sense of closeness with her friend’s parents.
Jane picked up the infant seat and carried it to one of the big overstuffed chairs. “I’m worn out already,” she said as she sank into the cushions with a sigh. But her energy was rejuvenated when Paul awoke, looked around him, and not seeing familiar surroundings, let out a lusty wail.
“Feeding time?” Annie asked.
“He’s probably got a messy diaper.” Jane scooped up her son, and after a brief inspection, expertly changed his diaper. When she’d finished, she placed him over her shoulder and gently rubbed his back. Not more than five minutes passed before he’d returned to sleep.
Annie wondered if she’d be as natural a mother as Jane. Then without warning, the room suddenly felt too hot. Perspiration moistened her brow and she fell into the chair across from Jane.
“Annie?”
“Jane… Oh, my goodness.”
“What is it?”
“I’m feeling light-headed.”
“Have you been unusually tired, as well?”
Now that she considered it, Annie realized she had. “Yes.”
Jane asked her several other questions, and Annie wondered if her friend recognized these symptoms. She’d been needing to use the bathroom more frequently and recalled that was a symptom of diabetes. She didn’t remember there being any diabetics in her family, but—
“Annie,” Jane said, interrupting her thoughts, “my guess is you’re pregnant.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Annie said. “It’s much too soon.” But was it? Could she possibly be pregnant? They hadn’t practiced birth control, but Annie had assumed that because of her medical history, getting pregnant would take a while.
“How can it be too soon?” Jane asked, sounding perfectly reasonable.
“It’s just that…” Words deserted her, and Annie had no idea how to describe what she felt. She’d read all the books, knew all the symptoms, but no one had mentioned what should have been the most obvious. Joy.
A baby. That explained the boundless happiness she’d experienced of late. This protective barrier that kept problems at bay. The irrepressible feeling that everything was right with the world. Perhaps it also explained the fears that nibbled away at her, telling her that something this wonderful couldn’t last.
“Does Lucas know?” Jane asked.
Annie shook her head. “How could he when I didn’t know myself? Yet in a way, I suppose I did….”
“You can get a pregnancy kit and find out today,” Jane said.
“No,” was Annie’s immediate response. If she was pregnant, then she was barely so and her body would soon catch up with the knowledge in her heart. By the end of the month, she’d have missed her first period; she would make an appointment at the health clinic then. If she wasn’t pregnant, she didn’t want to destroy the illusion this quickly.
“You’ve got a funny look,” Jane said, breaking into Annie’s thoughts. “You used to get the same look when we were kids.”
Annie decided Jane was being fanciful. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“We spent as much time together as sisters,” Jane said, “and I know you. You never could keep a secret from me. I could always tell. It shows in your eyes.”
Annie realized it would do no good to argue. “All right, I’ll get the test. If you insist.”
“I do,” Jane returned with all the fervor of a woman who knows when she’s right and isn’t afraid to say so.
That night, Annie was tempted to mention the possibility that she was pregnant to Lucas, but it would be premature to say anything just yet. Besides, he’d want to tell the girls right away, and Annie was afraid of disappointing them. So she said nothing.
After preparing dinner, cleaning the kitchen and reading to Heather and Hollie, there hardly seemed time for a private conversation.
When she finally climbed into bed beside her husband later that evening, Lucas put down his book and looked at her.
She picked up her own novel, then realized her husband was still watching her. Slowly she lowered her book and met his eyes. “Did you want to say something?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said and continued to stare.
“Lucas—” she was blushing “—you’re embarrassing me.”
“You’re so beautiful,” he said softly and fervently.
“Lucas, stop. You don’t need to say these things.”
“Annie, I’m serious.”
“If I’m beautiful,” she said, closing her book and turning off the bedside lamp, “it’s because I’m happy.”
Lucas turned off his light, too, and they reached for one another, not in a frenzy of passion, but in love and gratitude for the miracle of second chances.
* * *
Summer was always busy for a veterinarian in a ranching community. It wasn’t unusual for Lucas to work fifteen-hour days. When he did arrive home, he always found Annie waiting for him and his dinner warming in the oven. He didn’t know how he’d managed all those months without her. Late hours meant he saw less of Heather and Hollie, but that didn’t appear to trouble his daughters nearly as much as it did him.
Knowing that Annie was waiting at home made the long days tolerable. In the six weeks since their wedding, he’d come to rely on seeing her, spending time with her, no matter how brief, and sleeping with her in his arms every night. This marriage provided benefits he hadn’t fully considered when he’d proposed.
Sometimes he worried that he might be too demanding physically, not that Annie complained. Often, in fact, she was the one who came to him and lovingly whispered her desire in his ear. She was his wife, she said, and being married meant they could make love whenever they wanted….
The next morning Cal Patterson put in a call to Lucas, but it took Lucas until late in the afternoon to get back to him. Fortunately it wasn’t an emergency. One of his horses suffered from an eye ailment known as ophthalmia or moon blindness. Unusual though the ailment was, Lucas had seen it before. When the moon was full, the horse’s eyes clouded and filmed over. This problem lasted the length of the full moon and then mysteriously disappeared.
“How about a cup of coffee?” Cal suggested after Lucas had finished with the mare.
“Sounds damn good about now,” Lucas agreed and headed toward the house with Cal.
“I guess you’re pleased about Annie,” Cal said casually.
Lucas found the statement odd.
“I’ll say one thing—it sure didn’t take you two long,” Cal joked, elbowing Lucas in the ribs.
“What the hell are you talking about?” As far as Lucas was concerned, Cal must’ve gone too long without sleep.
“Annie’s pregnant—isn’t she?” Cal asked. “I overheard Jane talking to her on the phone. When I said something about it, she said I should talk to you.”
Annie’s pregnant? Lucas stopped in his tracks.
“You didn’t mean to keep it a secret, did you?”
Lucas felt as though he’d been sucker-punched. It was all he could do not to reveal his shock. His friend shouldn’t be the one giving him this news; his wife should. He was about to become a father, and he couldn’t imagine why Annie hadn’t told him herself. She must know he’d be pleased. Surely she knew that.
“I hope I wasn’t speaking out of turn,” Cal said, cutting into his frenzied thoughts.
Lucas shook his head, but it wasn’t until he was driving home from the Lonesome Coyote Ranch that the full reality of what Cal had said hit him. Annie was pregnant. For the third time in his life he was going to be a father.
Actually, it shouldn’t come as such a shock, considering how often they made love. In retrospect, Lucas realized this explained a lot, like the fact that Annie had been so pale lately. And some nights, she’d fallen asleep before he got home. Perhaps she was waiting for him to say something. The truth was, he enjoyed gently waking her, having her open her arms to him, warm and sleepy. Warm and loving.
With that realization came another. Lucas’s hands gripped the steering wheel with such intensity his fingers grew white. He’d really done it now. What he thought was impossible had happened.
He’d gone and fallen in love with Annie.