Undaunted
Page 28
“She’s going to be fine,” Barnes added.
“You have a healthy little boy,” Marie told him gently, watching the expressions cross his face, the most prominent one of absolute exaltation.
“Barnes, get me to the hospital. What was on television that upset her?” he asked while Barnes was getting the limo out.
“Sir, it’s been reported everywhere that you’re, well, dead,” she said, grimacing. “The plane crashed.”
His eyebrows arched. “The plane? Oh, the commercial plane. I missed the flight by ten minutes. Damned traffic slowed down the limo I hired. So I hitched a ride with a friend who has a private jet like mine.” He made a face. “It wasn’t as comfortable as mine, I have to admit, but I didn’t want to wait for them to get it to Arizona. I’m not dead.”
“Thank God! I have to call Tonia. She’ll be so relieved. We were scared to death, sir. Especially Emma,” she added. “She said her life was over.”
Connor’s face was so radiant that it glowed. “She did?”
Marie hesitated, but only for a minute. “I need to show you something.”
She went into Emma’s room and fetched the photo that Emma had framed and tucked into her bedside table. She showed it to Connor.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “You did tell me to burn all of them.”
He was looking at the portrait of him and Emma, his eyes misty. He’d never seen a photo capture such an expression on anyone’s face. Emma loved him beyond measure. The photograph was like a statement of love.
“Thanks,” he told Marie, and hugged her. “Thanks for disobeying. This once,” he added in a teasing tone.
“You’re very welcome. You should go and meet your son.”
“On my way.” He handed Marie the photo. He was smiling from ear to ear.
* * *
Emma was in a twilight state, between consciousness and unconsciousness. She was in a quiet place, free of pain and worry. But there was a voice. It was deep and slow and tender. It wanted her to open her eyes.
She wasn’t eager to wake up. As she drifted closer to consciousness, she remembered why she was in the hospital. She opened her eyes and tears stung them. She thought she heard Connor’s voice. It was so close...
“Baby,” he whispered. He was standing over her, his face tired but radiant with joy. “My sweet baby, we have a son.”
She looked at him through a mist. “Connor?” she choked. “Am I dreaming?”
He bent down and put his mouth roughly, hungrily over hers. “We’re both dreaming. And we’re never going to wake up. I’m real, Emma. Kiss me and find out.”
She kissed him back. She tried to lift her arms, but that hurt her stomach.
He felt her wince and drew back. He smiled warmly. “Stitches,” he whispered. “You’ll get better.” His big hand smoothed over her cheek. “You’re worn-out and in pain. Go to sleep. I’ll be right here when you wake up.” The smile faded. “I’ll never leave you. Never, as long as I live.”
“You’re not dead?” she whispered, and tears ran down her cheeks.
He smiled. “I missed the flight. No, I’m not dead.”
“Everybody thought you were.”
He brushed his mouth over hers. “Marie’s calling Tonia. She’ll handle the press. I’m going to see our son.”
She managed a wan smile. The pain, even with the sedation, was bad. “Okay.”
“What are we going to name him, honey?” he asked.
She studied his face. It was strong. Handsome. She loved looking at him. “Names?”
He nodded.
“Do you have a middle name?” she wondered.
“Jacob.”
She smiled. “Jacob Connor Sinclair?”
He brushed his mouth over hers. “We’ll call him Jake.”
She reached up just far enough to draw her hand down his cheek. “I like that.”
He put his mouth over her eyes and closed them. “Go to sleep.”
“Okay.”
* * *
He held his infant son in the nursery. They gowned him and handed him the little boy, who was so small. He’d never in his life experienced such emotions. He kissed the tiny forehead, looked into eyes that were a silvery gray, like his own. He wondered if they’d change as Jake grew older. He was perfect. Tiny, but perfect. He fought tears as he handed the child back to the nurse. He was a father. It was a life-changing event. He had a sudden urge to go buy out a toy store. But that would have to wait. His first priority now was getting Emma back on her feet, and home.
* * *
It took several days to accomplish that. Emma had wanted to breastfeed the baby, but the C-section pain was just too much for her. It overwhelmed her. So she bottle-fed Jake. Connor was delighted, because he could do the same for his son.
Emma loved to watch him hold the little boy. She’d never seen such affection in those pale eyes as she saw when he held Jake. He loved the child already. He loved Emma, as well. She knew it. His reaction to her situation, the bullet hole in the office, told her things he might never be able to. But she knew how he felt, and that was enough.
Likewise, her hysteria had told him clearly that she still loved him, in spite of what he’d done to her. It was like a miracle, to know that Emma cared. She was his. He had a wife and a son. He was part of a family. He could hardly stop smiling.
They brought Emma home in the limo and Connor carried her into the house while the private duty nurse they’d hired brought baby Jake along in his carrier.
Emma was shocked when she saw that her room, next to Connor’s, had been transformed into a nursery, complete with monitor, handmade crib, curtains with sailboats and every sort of baby furniture known to man. Plus a selection of mobiles for the crib and electronic toys made especially for newborns. There was a dresser, too, chock-full of onesies and socks and blankets.
“You did all this?” Emma asked with a surprised smile.
“I had a little help from Marie.” He chuckled.
“It’s wonderful.” She kissed his hard cheek. “I love it!”
He smiled and kissed her soft lips. “I’m glad. We’ll have him right next door to us, so that if we need to get up, we can.”
“I can get up,” she began.
“When you heal,” he replied. “Nurse Pitts will do everything necessary until you can. No lifting unless it’s as heavy as a handkerchief, remember?” he teased. “Babies are heavy. Ours weighs eight and a half pounds.”
She sighed. “Okay, then.” She’d noticed that there was a nice rollaway bed in the nursery, so she assumed the nurse would spend the night here.
“We gave the nurse one of the guest rooms,” Connor said, guessing her next question. “But she’ll stay with Jake at night.”
“Yes, I will,” Nurse Pitts said with a grin. “I’ll take ever such good care of him,” she promised. “So don’t you worry. I raised six of my own.”
Emma smiled. “Okay. Thanks.”
“You’re most welcome, Mrs. Sinclair.”
Emma blushed. It was the first time anyone had called her that since she and Connor had married.
He noticed. He turned and carried her through to the master bedroom, nudging the door closed behind them. He put her on the bed and arranged pillows so that she could sit up comfortably and the stitches wouldn’t pull.
“I gather that I’m sleeping with you?” she teased.
He sat down beside her. “I’m never letting you out of my sight,” he replied seriously. “I’ve already put out the word that I’m taking two weeks off to be with my family. That means no travel, no business, period. If Tonia can’t handle it, the divisional managers will have to.” He traced her cheek lightly. “I’m the luckiest man on earth, Emma,” he whispered, and bent to kiss her with a restrain
ed hunger. “I didn’t think you could forgive me...”
“You silly man,” she whispered against his lips. “I love you. That never stopped. It never will.” She drew back and looked into his pale eyes. “I’ll never stop loving you.”
His eyes misted. He drew her face into his throat and he rocked her. “I’ll never stop feeling guilty for what happened, for what I did to you,” he said gruffly. “But I’ll do all I can to make it up to you, for the rest of our lives.” His arms contracted gently. “I never knew what love was, until you came into my life. I’ll love you all the way to the grave, baby,” he whispered huskily. “And forever beyond it.”
She let the tears fall, healing tears, cleansing tears. He held her while she wept. And for those few minutes, it seemed as if they were the only two people on earth who’d ever known love, who’d ever spoken of love, who’d ever shared love. Emma knew that as long as she lived, she’d never forget the day he told her his heart. She closed her eyes and smiled against his hard mouth. Dreams really did come true.
* * *
“Will you hurry?” Connor teased as they crawled out of the limo. “Slowpoke.”
“I am not a slowpoke,” she said, making a face at him as she handed Jake to him. “All you have to do is get out. I have to get Jake and diaper bags and my purse and—”
He reached in, kissed her and took Jake. “Barnes will get the bags. Come on.”
“We didn’t even call first,” she protested as they walked down the driveway to the big, old-fashioned house right in downtown Jacobsville, Texas.
“I called,” Connor replied.
“You told them who you were?” she asked, all eyes, while Jake gurgled in her arms.
“Not exactly. I told them I was your husband and we wanted them to meet our son.”
She started to speak when the front door opened and Tippy Grier stepped outside with her mouth open.
“Emma?” she exclaimed. “You’re married! You have a baby!”
“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you,” Emma said. “It’s a very long story...”
Tippy took in the very expensive limousine sitting at the end of the driveway, Connor’s designer suit, Emma’s couture pantsuit and all at once she recognized her male visitor. “Connor Sinclair?” she asked slowly.
“I hope so. I’m wearing his suit.”
She burst out laughing. She hugged Emma. “Talk about keeping secrets!” she exclaimed, and held out her arms.
Emma put Jake into them, beaming. “I wanted to tell you, but I was keeping secrets.”
“Big ones apparently,” Tippy mused, sizing up Connor.
He chuckled. “We’ll tell you one day.”
A tall, dark man with black hair in a ponytail came out the door behind Tippy. “Damn! A husband and a child, and you didn’t even invite us to the wedding!” Cash Grier teased.
“I meant to,” she said.
Cash chuckled. He shook hands with Connor. “I’ve heard about you from my brother,” he said.
“Cort.” Connor nodded. “I can only imagine what he told you.”
“Something about a very attractive young woman that he wanted to get to know, and you came at him like a mountain lion,” Cash remarked. He was looking at Emma. “He didn’t know who you were, did he?”
“I’d never met him,” Emma reminded him. “He’s very nice.”
“That last word is why he’s still breathing.” Connor chuckled. “Nice. She never calls me nice.”
“You’re a grizzly bear,” she told Connor. “Grizzly bears are not nice.”
“I married one of those, too.” Tippy laughed, making a face when Cash glared at her. “Come in! I made a pound cake and there’s plenty of fresh coffee! Bring your driver, too,” Tippy added. “We’ve got lots.”
“You heard her, Barnes,” Connor called. “But bring the ten tons of baby equipment in with you.”
“You bet!”
* * *
“Thanks for all you did for her,” Connor told Cash while the women gossiped. “I’ve heard too much about her father already.”
“He was a piece of work,” Cash agreed. “Tippy and I sort of adopted her. She didn’t have anywhere to go, and she was such a nice young woman.” He raised both eyebrows. “We never heard anything about any of this—the blindness, the marriage...”
“It’s a sad story. It was almost a tragic one,” Connor said quietly. “Life teaches hard lessons.”
“Tell me about it,” came Cash’s reply.
“The important thing is that it all worked out,” Connor replied.
“Her father just got married,” Cash said. “The woman’s a lot like Emma. She’s got a soft heart and she loves to help people. She got him into AA and helped him sober up and sort himself out. He’d like to see Emma, but he says it’s early days yet and she needs time. He’d like to call her and talk sometime. If she’s willing.”
Connor nodded. “I’ll tell her.”
“Did she tell you about Steven?”
Connor drew in a breath. “He was gay, right?”
“Yes,” Cash replied. “We didn’t tell her. She was so upset already. But you might mention it. She thinks they broke up because he hated her father’s job. It was his mother who hated people knowing she had a gay son.”
“Idiot,” Connor scoffed. “Your child is still your child, no matter what.”
“Absolutely.”
He hesitated, and a wicked gleam came into his silver eyes. “You might mention to your cattle baron brother that Emma’s permanently off-limits. Just in case he ever gets itchy feet and wanders to Georgia.”
Cash burst out laughing. “I’ll do that.”
Emma glanced toward the men while Tippy’s young brother Rory held little Jake, and Tris and Marcus, their new little boy, hovered around Tippy and Emma.
“He’s pretty famous, your husband,” Tippy remarked with a smile when she saw where Emma was looking.
“He’s pretty sweet, too,” Emma replied. “I never thought I’d fit anywhere in his life, but he made a place for me. Connor, the baby.” She shook her head. “It all seems unreal.”
“I feel the same way about my own life.” She studied Emma. “We lived through hard times. Then we got lucky. That’s life.”
Emma laughed. Her eyes, brimming over with love, homed in on her husband, who was looking back at her with eyes just as loving. “That’s life,” she agreed softly.
* * * * *
Be sure to check out Diana Palmer’s next book in her beloved LONG, TALL TEXANS series
DEFENDER
The man who shattered Isabel Grayling’s trust is back to protect her.
Can she trust Paul Fiore not to break her heart once again?
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Cultivating his vast Wyoming ranch is all security expert J. C. Calhoun wants. His land is the only thing the betrayed rancher can trust in after discovering his fiancée was pregnant by another man. But all J.C. holds dear becomes compromised when a lost little girl leads him to Colie Jackson, the woman who destroyed his life.
Colie stops at nothing to protect the people she loves. Years ago she left J.C. for his own good. Now, for the sake of her daughter, she must depend on a hard-hearted man who won’t forgive her. As a band of ruthless criminals tracks their every move through the frozen Wyoming winter, Colie and J.C. will be forced to confront the lies that separated them—and the startling truth that will bind them forever...
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Defender
by Diana Palmer
CHAPTER ONE
ISABEL GRAYLING STUCK her head around the study door and peered in. The big desk was empty. The chair hadn’t been moved from its position, carefully pushed underneath. Everything on the oak surface was neatly placed; not a pencil wasn’t neatly in a cup; not a scrap of paper was out of line. She let out a breath. Her father wasn’t home, but the desk kept the fanatical order he insisted on, even when he wasn’t here.
She darted out of the office with a relieved sigh and pushed back the long tangle of her reddish-gold hair. Pale blue eyes were filled with relief. She wrinkled her straight nose, where just a tiny line of freckles ran over its bridge. Her name was Isabel, but only Paul Fiore called her that. To everyone else, she was Sari, just as her sister, Meredith, was always called Merrie.