A_Father's Sacrifice
Page 20
“Well, Ben, I’ve got to go. Your daddy needs rest, and I’ve got reports to fill out and packing to do.” She stopped. “Oh. I guess there’s not anything to pack.”
Dylan shook his head sadly. “It’s all a big pile of rubble now.”
“Don’t go, Tasha. Stay with us. We can have fun.”
She stepped over and held out her arms. Ben sat up and she picked him up. “Oof, you are heavy, Ben.” She tucked him in the curve of her arm, his lightweight braces resting easily, naturally against her side.
“Charlene fed me a lot. But, Tasha, don’t go. We want you to stay, don’t we, Daddy?”
“That’d be great, but Tasha has a job in Washington, D.C.”
Ben looked up at her sadly. “Is Washingdy C a long way?”
“It’s pretty far.”
“We can go, though. Daddy? Can’t we go?”
“Son, there are lots of problems with that. People can’t just pick up and move.” His gaze met hers and she saw a question there.
“That’s right, Ben,” she said. “Sometimes, people have to stay where they are. That’s where their home is and their life and their work.”
“Daddy, me and Alfred’ll go, too. We can have a home and a life.”
Natasha smiled and kissed Ben’s cheek. “You are so sweet. I’d love to take you with me. You could stay with me and we’d have fun. But your daddy needs you here.”
“Daddy can go. You like us, don’t you?”
She raised her gaze to Dylan’s. “Yes, very much.”
“Daddy? You like Tasha. You said so.”
Dylan rolled his eyes, then smiled. “Yes I do like Tasha.”
“Okay.” Ben looked pleased with himself.
“From the mouths of babes,” he said, smiling tentatively. “Bring him here,” Dylan said, holding out his good arm.
Natasha lowered Ben next to his father on the emergency room bed. He hugged his child to him and ruffled his hair.
“Sit,” he said to her, nodding at the side chair.
She sat and clasped her hands in her lap, noticing they were trembling.
“What about it, Tasha? Want to have a home and a life?”
She gaped at him, trying to sort out his words. “A home and a life? What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about just what you said. A home, a life, work. What do you say?”
“I—I’m not sure what to say.”
He raised his brows. “Special Agent Rudolph doesn’t know what to say?”
“No. I mean yes. I mean—” She stopped, her cheeks burning. Too afraid to make an assumption in case she was wrong.
Dear God, don’t let me be wrong. “I don’t think I know what you’re saying.”
His face turned serious and his expression softened. “I’m asking you to marry me.”
She’d have sworn her heart hit the floor. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. She sucked in air, forcing her lungs to work. “Have you been hitting the morphine button?”
He chuckled. “No, I haven’t been hitting the morphine button. And before you ask, yes, I do know what I’m saying.”
She leaned closer. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to get married just to give Ben a mom,” she whispered.
“That’s not why I’m asking,” he whispered back.
“It’s not? You mean you—”
“I mean I’m in love with you. I think I have been since the first time I saw you.”
Her throat closed up. “I never thought—” she croaked.
“You never thought I’d ask?”
She laughed. “I never thought I’d get married.”
“Well?”
“I fell in love with you in the tunnel-house, when you told me what you were afraid of. I just can’t believe you love me.”
“Believe it. Now kiss me.”
She leaned over the bed and kissed him. His good hand cradled her head and his kiss wasn’t a sickbed kiss. It was an erotic lovers’ kiss.
“Hey,” he said against her mouth. “What’s this?” He touched her cheek with a finger. “More tears?”
“Happy tears.”
“Well, before you get too happy there is one condition.”
“Oh?” She couldn’t stop smiling, but her heart did a little anxious jump.
“Yeah, if we’re moving to D.C. it’s going to be your job to tell Alfred. I don’t have the courage.”
Before he finished the sentence, Alfred came into the room.
“Alfred!” Ben shouted, holding out his arms.
He picked Ben up and bounced him in the air. “What’s up, pardner?”
“Tasha and Daddy are going to get a home and a life.”
Alfred’s eyes snapped from one to the other. “Is that right? Don’t I get any say in this?” His face was stern but his eyes sparkled.
Natasha smiled at him. Alfred just wanted Dylan to be happy.
Convincing him to move to D.C. would be a piece of cake. She knew him. As long as he had an escape route, he’d be happy.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-0721-3
A FATHER’S SACRIFICE
Copyright © 2007 by Rickey R. Mallory
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Table of Contents
Cover
Copyright
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen