by Tracy Wolff
But for how long?
Was this it, then? Had he decided she was too much trouble, with her three—soon to be four—kids and her house that kept breaking and her past that sometimes got the best of her?
She had a hard time accepting that. He’d been attentive, loving, one hundred percent there for her and the kids. And all her fears had seemed groundless—or at least, minimized.
She’d been working up to telling him about the baby, going over options, deciding what was the best way to break the news to him. But she had been scared. No matter how wonderful Reece had been, he was still the man who had abandoned her when she’d needed him most. Combined with her old fears and insecurities, that was a hard thing to move past.
But she’d been trying—trying to trust him, trying to trust her own judgment more. Hadn’t she waited—albeit nervously—for him to get back from Hawaii? The old Sarah might have written him off right away, but she’d held on. Sure, she’d had doubts, but she’d trusted him. Didn’t that count for anything?
Apparently not.
She glanced at the clock and realized Reece had been gone nearly six hours. Where was he? Why was he doing this to her when he knew she had abandonment issues?
By eleven o’clock that night, after the children were in bed and the house was quiet, anger had given way to worry. Where was he? Why wasn’t he home yet? What if he was hurt somewhere and she didn’t know? What if he wasn’t?
And the most overwhelming question of all. Was he coming home at all?
Maybe that was it. Maybe he wasn’t coming back. She’d put all her faith in him, put as much trust as she had in him, and she’d been wrong. Again. He wasn’t any different than her father and Mike, merely less honest about it.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
REECE STARED at the pile of leaves he’d raked in complete and total dissatisfaction. Oh, there was nothing wrong with the pile—except for the fact that the lawn service that he’d hired to take care of his house hadn’t been doing their job. But it was what the pile represented that had him so annoyed. The fact that, like these leaves, he was unwanted and out of place. Obviously he didn’t fit in at Sarah’s—not like he’d thought he had. But he didn’t fit here, at his house, either.
When he’d left Sarah’s yesterday, he’d intended to get some air before returning to confront her. He’d needed to let his temper simmer for a while. then calm before he said something he couldn’t take back.
But when, after hours of driving around, he was no calmer than when he’d started, he’d ended up here. At his home. He winced at the description, because he’d known it wasn’t home before he’d been in the house five minutes. His home was fifteen minutes away, in Sarah’s too-crowded, too-messy, too-noisy house. And he missed it, more than he’d thought possible.
But he’d stuck it out here. Had spent the night, even though he’d longed for the warmth of Sarah’s body next to his in bed. Had gone down the street for breakfast, as his house no longer had any food in it. And had brooded the entire time.
Coming back here was a double whammy, he decided as he shuffled the leaves into bags. Not only did he not feel at home here, but even worse, he could no longer feel Vanessa here. Last night, he’d sat on the couch, mindlessly watching a ball game when he’d realized his feelings for Vanessa were no longer an ache that couldn’t be filled.
Oh, he missed her smile, missed the way she could be in tune with him. But he didn’t miss her the way one missed a lover—or a wife. As if his hand had been chopped off or his heart removed. No, that pain was gone when he thought of Vanessa—but very much in evidence when he thought about how badly he’d blown it with Sarah.
Why had he freaked out like that—yelling at her, telling her she didn’t trust him? Why should she trust him when he didn’t even trust himself? When he continued to give her reason after reason not to trust him?
He liked to pretend that those months after Van’s death hadn’t happened—liked to imagine how different his life would have been if he’d stepped up and helped Sarah when he should have. But he didn’t know what his life would be like right now if he’d done his duty all those months ago. Would he still be with Sarah, loving her? Or would he have been so blinded by guilt at the thought of touching Vanessa’s best friend that he would have let the best thing in his life pass him by?
He still had twinges of guilt, regrets that Vanessa had died while he got to live. But he refused to feel bad about loving Sarah. She’d brought color and sunshine back into a life that had gone abysmally gray. He would love her for that alone.
Shaking his head, he went into the house and drank a tall glass of water, hoping it would quench the thirst for Sarah that was a physical ache inside of him. It didn’t work, of course, only made him feel lonelier as he thought of sitting around Sarah’s kitchen, drinking coffee and laughing at some antic of Justin’s while they all ate the blueberry pancakes he had made.
He was the official breakfast maker in the house, as Sarah wasn’t at her best early in the morning. But she handled the midnight shifts with the kids like a pro, whereas he was usually stumbling around by eleven o’clock, exhausted.
Funny how he’d never noticed how much they complemented each other. How one’s strengths played into the other’s weaknesses. Just one more way his relationship with Sarah was so different than the one he’d had with Vanessa.
Stopping suddenly on his way out of the house, Reece let his thoughts play back in his mind. There was something significant there—he could feel it. He just needed to figure out what it was. Sarah was different than he was, always changing. Never the same. Her moods were quicksilver—she could be furious one minute then laughing the next, whatever had made her angry forgotten. Or if not forgotten, at least buried deep.
That’s when it hit him—Sarah had as many vulnerabilities and worries as Vanessa had had. She was better at hiding them, so that she always appeared strong, calm, in control. Yet she wasn’t. Inside she was as big a mess as he was. But whereas he was afraid of failing—himself and others—she was afraid of trusting anyone but herself.
Why? Because everyone, including him, had let her down. Over and over and over again. Was it any wonder she had trouble trusting him? Any wonder she hadn’t rushed to tell him about the baby? Hell, when he thought of how he’d reacted to the news—with anger and accusations instead of happiness and concern for her—he was pissed enough to kick his own ass.
Why was it so easy to live up to everyone else’s expectations—no matter how high—yet so difficult to do anything but live down to Sarah’s? He was an idiot.
Yesterday, Sarah had needed reassurances and understanding. Instead, he’d been awful to her. Had yelled at her then did the one thing she’d expected him to do all along—he’d left. He might have known he walked out until he could calm himself down, but did he bother to tell Sarah that? No, he’d left her standing stricken, and wondering whether he was ever coming back.
Racing into the house, he grabbed the keys to his truck. Then he was flying across the lawn in an effort to get to Sarah. As he hopped in the truck and took off, he glanced in the rearview mirror at the house he’d shared with Vanessa for the better half of a decade. It was time to sell it, he thought. Time to move on. Time to close the escape hatch, so that Sarah understood she was stuck with him—whether she wanted him or not.
Because this time, he wasn’t going anywhere. And neither was she.
* * *
SARAH WAS UPSTAIRS playing with the boys and trying to muster some enthusiasm for the rest of her life when she heard the front door slam. With her heart in her throat, she handed the red train she’d been driving to her oldest son and went to confront Reece.
She’d done a lot of thinking while he’d been gone—and she’d reached some conclusions. She had been wrong not to tell him about the baby, not to trust him with that information. He was nothing like her father and Mike, and she should have known it. After all, the reason he’d abandoned her after Vanessa’s death was
because he’d had such a hard time letting go of his wife.
When Reece loved, he did it unconditionally and absolutely and Sarah had been ridiculously stupid to let her old fears stand in the way of her understanding something so fundamentally important.
But he’d been wrong, too. He’d had no business running away—not to San Francisco after he’d kissed her and not yesterday when he’d left to lick his wounds. And that’s what he’d been doing. As she’d lain in bed staring at the ceiling last night, she’d come to some kind of understanding of him. And that understanding had brought her a peace that had been lacking in her life for far too long.
When Reece left, it wasn’t because he wasn’t going to come back. It was because, like a wounded animal, he needed to lick his wounds in private. He needed to brood and get his mind around whatever it was that had bothered him. When that was finished, he would come back, ready for whatever else life threw at him.
That didn’t give him the right to take off and stay out all night and scare her to death. And she had an entire speech prepared to help her get that message across.
Except as soon as she saw him taking the stairs two at a time, every thought she’d managed to string together in the past twenty-four hours flew out of her head. And all she could think about was how good he looked and how much she wanted him and how happy she wanted to make him.
“Sarah!” he called as he clamored up the steps to her. “Sarah, I was an ass. A total and complete idiot.”
“What?” Everything inside of her froze and for a second she was sure she’d misheard him.
When he got to the landing at the top of the stairs, he grabbed her hands. His were ice-cold, but his face was alive with passion and excitement. “This morning, I realized there was a lot I forgot to say yesterday. I let myself get so blinded by my hurt and anger that I couldn’t see how you were feeling. I didn’t tell you what else I felt, didn’t realize how much you needed to hear it.”
“What are you talking about?” For a moment hope was bright and painful within her.
“I want you and I want our baby. I’m thrilled that you’re pregnant and that I get to be here, every step of the way, for this baby. And I’m not going anywhere. If you want me out of your life, you’ll have to drag me kicking and screaming away from you and Rose and the boys.” His eyes dropped to her waist. “And this baby. I want all five of you, more than I ever thought it possible to want anything.”
“Reece—” There were tears in her eyes, a lump in her throat so big she could barely get the words out. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it. I couldn’t stand—”
“Oh, I mean it, Sarah. I’ve spent my life avoiding messing up, yet all I’ve done is mess up with you.”
“I understand.” She reached for him and he pulled her into his arms, ran his lips over her hair and down to her mouth for one brief moment before moving away slightly.
“No, you don’t. Because I’ve never told you. When Vanessa died, I was lost. Completely broken. Not just because I had lost my wife, which was horrible enough, but because I’d failed her. Failed to be a good enough husband, failed to be strong enough father material, failed to keep her alive.”
“That’s ridiculous. Vanessa loved you.”
“Yes, and I loved her. But things hadn’t been good between us for a long time. She’d been so obsessed with having a baby that it had taken over every part of her life, and the fact that I couldn’t give her one was a constant failure on my part.”
“But it wasn’t your fault Vanessa couldn’t conceive.”
“Intellectually, I knew that. But as I watched my wife slowly losing her mind, I felt like I should be able to do something. She cried herself to sleep every single night and I couldn’t make her feel better. She went through torturous surgeries and procedures and I couldn’t take her pain away.
“Do you know how that makes a man feel?” he asked, as he closed his eyes against the memories. “Like’s he’s useless. Worthless. Like he’s failed the most important person in his life. And when she died—” He choked up and Sarah’s heart broke for him. “When she died, it shattered me, because keeping her safe was one more thing I’d failed to do.”
“Reece—”
“No.” He shook his head. “Let me finish. I know I should have been there for you, Sarah, but I couldn’t be. I was no good for myself, no good for anyone for months after the funeral. Self-destructive, angry, I couldn’t help myself let alone you or Rose.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. You went through hell because I was too weak to get myself together. And I’m sorrier about that than I can ever tell you.” He paused, and brought his hands up to cup her face. “But I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere ever again. You’ll never have to worry about raising our children on your own.”
Her heart melted. “I know, Reece. Last night I realized that not trusting you was stupid. You’re the very best man I know and if I can’t make it work with you, then there’s no one in the world I could make it work with. I know there’s no one else in the world I want to be with, no other man I want to help raise my children—all of them.”
“I want to adopt the boys. I already consider them mine, but they need to know that I feel about them the same way I feel about Rose, the same way I’ll feel about the new baby.”
“I love you, Reece Sandler.”
“I love you, Sarah Martin. And I want to marry you as soon as humanly possible.”
“Marriage?” Sarah’s stomach jumped at the word, and her heart pounded even faster.
“You still don’t get it, do you?” he asked, a smile on his face. “I’m not letting you go—we’re forever. You, me and the kids. I just hope that’s long enough.”
He pulled her into his arms, tucking her against his chest so that she could feel his heart pounding as riotously as her own. And that’s when she truly began to believe.
Sarah shuddered with the realization that all her dreams were coming true—dreams she hadn’t even known she’d had until he’d given them to her. A man who understood her and who loved her anyway. A man strong enough to stick around—for her and her children—through good times and bad.
They weren’t fancy dreams, nor were they unusual ones. But they were hers and Reece had made them come true. He said she brought the sunshine into his life, but she knew the truth. For her and the boys and Rose—and this new baby—he was the sunshine.
And that was more than enough.
* * * * *
If you enjoyed this story by New York Times bestselling author
TRACY WOLFF
be sure to check out
USA Today bestselling author
JANICE KAY JOHNSON
and her tales about family, love and life that will keep you wanting more!
PLAIN REFUGE
A MOTHER’S CLAIM
BECAUSE OF A GIRL
THE BABY HE WANTED
THE CLOSER HE GETS
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Be sure to check out PLAIN REFUGE by USA Today bestselling author Janice Kay Johnson, available now from Harlequin Superromance.
Rebecca Holt and her young son are deep into hiding with extended family among the Amish in rural Missouri. If she’s found, she has nothing left to hide behind.
Unless county sheriff Daniel Byler can protect her…
Turn the page for a sneak peek of PLAIN REFUGE.
CHAPTER ONE
“DECIDED TO BOLT with your cut of the money, did you?” asked Detective Ray Estevez, his manner as insulting as his words.
Rebecca Gregory stared in disbelief at the man she had allowed into her apartment. Had he just accused her of being complicit in a crime? T
hank goodness Matthew wasn’t home! At five, her son was too young to understand the accusation, but he’d have picked up on the tone. Would Detective Estevez have bothered to restrain himself with a child in earshot?
“Or do you and Stowe plan to hook up once the investigation goes cold?” he continued, dark eyes flat and mouth curling in what she took for contempt.
Rebecca stiffened. What a creep. Steven Stowe, her former husband’s business partner, had disappeared after embezzling millions of dollars from their construction firm. Why would this detective imagine for a minute that she had conspired with Steven, or had anything but the most distant relationship with him?
“I have never so much as had lunch with Steven Stowe without Tim present,” she said icily.
“Yeah? Then why’d you leave your husband?”
Managing to meet his stare, she said, “That is between Tim and me.” And, really, her marriage was irrelevant to any investigation, even though the separation had been precipitated by the tension surrounding the embezzlement.
In retrospect, she knew their marriage had already been in trouble when, several months ago, Tim’s behavior changed. She knew now that he’d been hit by mysterious and crippling financial problems in the construction firm he had founded with Steven and another partner, Josh Griffen. Then, all she’d known was that the ridiculous hours he worked stretched even longer. He seldom bothered to spend time with his wife and son and brushed off her concern. Worried, frustrated, occasionally angry, he refused to even acknowledge there was a problem, not to her. What sex life they had left her feeling used. In fact, he’d shut her out so completely it became obvious she held no meaningful role in his life. Increasingly, she saw that he had never really talked to her, not the way her parents had to each other.
Rebecca had taken her wedding vows seriously. She had sworn to stick with him through these troubles. So she’d kept quiet and made excuses to their five-year-old son when he asked why Daddy was mad or never home.