Leah didn’t know what to say, which was just as well, because her throat was so clogged she wouldn’t have been able to utter a word. There were things she wanted to say, but she’d already said them, and they hadn’t done much toward changing Garrick’s mind. She’d never been one to nag or harp, and she refused to resort to that now. So she simply closed her eyes and let herself be enfolded in his arms, where she etched everything she loved about him into memory for the lonely period ahead.
SHE LEFT THE NEXT DAY while Garrick was out on the mountain. It didn’t take her long to pack, since she had a limited supply of maternity clothes. The things she wanted most were her resource books, her music and her loom, and these she carried to the car in separate trips. She worked as quickly as she could, pausing at the end to leave a short note.
“Dear Garrick,” she wrote, “We all have our moments of cowardice, and I guess this is mine. I’m on my way to Concord. I’ll call you tonight to let you know where I’ll be staying. Please don’t be angry. It’s not that I’m choosing the baby over you, but that I want you both. You’ve said that you’ll love me no matter where I am, and I’m counting on that, because I feel the same. But I want a chance to love a child of ours, and I want you to have that chance, too. That’s why I have to go.” She signed it simply, “Leah.”
THOUGH SHE DIDN’T HAVE an appointment set up for that particular day, Gregory Walsh saw her shortly after she arrived.
“Aren’t you feeling well?” he asked as soon as she was seated.
She forced a small smile. “I’m feeling fine, but I … need a little help. I’ve just driven in. All my things are still in the car. I’m … afraid I haven’t planned for this very well. It seems—” she grimaced “—that I don’t have a place to stay. You’re familiar with the area around the hospital. I was hoping you could suggest an apartment or a duplex, something furnished that I could rent.”
Walsh was quiet for several minutes, his kindly eyes gentle, putting her at ease as they had from the start. “You’re alone,” he said at last, softly and without condemnation.
Her gaze fell to her twisting thumbs. “Yes.”
“Where’s Garrick?”
“Back at the cabin.”
“Is there a problem?”
“Not really. He just didn’t feel that he could … be here for such a long stretch.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“Okay.”
“Really?”
“I guess.”
Again the doctor was silent, this time steepling his fingers beneath his chin and pursing his lips. His eyes remained on her bowed head. When he spoke at last, his voice was exquisitely gentle. “People often assume that my job is purely physical, examining one pregnant lady after another, prescribing vitamins, delivering babies. There’s much more to it than that, Leah. Pregnancy is a time of change, and it brings with it a wide range of emotional issues. It’s my job—and wish—to deal with some of those issues. From a medical standpoint, a more relaxed mother-to-be is a healthier one, and her baby is healthier.” He lowered his hands. “Given your medical history, you have more than your share of worries. Having you close by the hospital gives me a medical edge, but I was also hoping that it would serve to ease your fears.”
She raised her head. “It will. That’s why I’m here.”
“But you’ve always been with Garrick before. It’d take a blind man not to see how close you two are. It’d take an insensitive one not to guess that it bothers you he’s not with you now. I’d like to think I’m neither blind nor insensitive. I’d also like to think that you feel comfortable enough with me to tell me, honestly, what you’re feeling.”
“I do,” she said softly. She didn’t know how one could not feel comfortable with a man like Gregory Walsh. In his early fifties, he was pleasant to look at and talk with. He seemed to have a sensor fine-tuned to his patients’ needs; he knew when to speak and when to listen. She’d never once sensed any condescension on his part, quite a feat given his position.
“Then tell me what you really feel about Garrick’s staying behind at the cabin.”
She thought for a minute, and when she spoke, her voice was unsteady. “I feel … lots of things.”
“Tell me one.”
“Sadness. I miss him. It’s only been a few hours, but I miss him. Not only that, but I picture him alone back at the cabin and I hurt for him. I know it’s stupid. It was his choice to stay there, and besides, he’s a big boy. He lived there alone for a long time before I arrived. He’s more than capable of taking care of himself. Still, I … it bothers me.”
“Because you love him.”
“Yes.”
He nodded in encouragement. “What else are you feeling?”
She grew pensive and frowned. “Dismay. I’ve lived alone, too. I’ve taken care of myself. Yet here I am, all but crying on your doorstep, not knowing where I’m going to spend the night. I feel … handicapped.”
“You’re pregnant. That has to make any woman feel a little more vulnerable than usual.”
“That’s it. Vulnerable. I do feel that.”
“What else?”
She lifted one shoulder and tipped her head to the side, her eyes dropping back to her hands. “Anger. Resentment. Garrick has his reasons for doing what he is, and I’m trying to understand them, but right about now it’s hard.”
“Because you’re feeling alone?”
“Yes.”
“And a little betrayed?”
“Maybe. But I don’t have a right to feel that. Garrick never said he’d come. In all the time I’ve know him, he’s never promised anything he hasn’t delivered.”
“You can still feel betrayed, Leah. It’s normal.”
“He was the one who wanted to get married.”
“Has he changed his mind?”
“No. But even if we were married, I doubt he’d be here. He has a certain … hang-up. I can’t explain it.”
“You can, but you won’t, because that would be betraying him,” Walsh suggested with an insight that drew her grateful gaze to his. “I respect you for that, Leah. And anyway, I don’t pretend to be a psychiatrist. All I want to do is help you out where I can. Will you be in touch with Garrick while you’re here?”
“I told him I’d call tonight. He’ll worry otherwise.”
“Will he be down to visit?”
“I don’t know. He said he’d be here when the baby’s due.”
“Well, then, that’s something to look forward to. The anger, the resentment, the sense of betrayal—those are things you and Garrick will have to work out. All I can say is that you shouldn’t deny them or feel guilty for feeling them.” He held up a hand. “I’m not criticizing Garrick, mind you. I haven’t heard his side of the story, and I wouldn’t deign to imagine what’s going on in his mind.”
“He probably feels betrayed himself, because I chose to come here instead of staying with him. I do feel guilty about that, but I had no choice!”
“You did what you felt you had to do. That’s your justification, Leah. It doesn’t mean that you have to like the situation. But if you were to drive back to him right now, you’d probably show up on my doorstep again tomorrow. In your heart, you feel that what you’re doing is best for the baby. Am I right?”
She answered in a whisper. “Yes.”
“So. I want you to keep telling yourself that.” He grinned unexpectedly. “As for feeling alone and having nowhere to stay, I think I have a perfect solution. My place.”
“Dr. Walsh!”
He laughed. “I love it when gorgeous young women take me the wrong way. Let me explain. My wife and I moved up here when the last of our boys—we have four—graduated from college. They were all out doing their own thing, and we felt it was time we did ours. We liked New York, but progressively it was getting more difficult for Susan—that’s my wife—to handle. She has crippling arthritis and is confined to a wheelchair.”
Leah gasped. “I’m sorry.”<
br />
“So am I. But, God bless her, she’s a good sport about it. She never complained in New York, but I knew that she’d love to be in a place where she could go in and out more freely. When the offer came from this hospital, I grabbed it. We bought a house about ten minutes from here.” He chuckled. “In New York that would still be city. Here it’s a quiet, tree-shaded acre. One of the things we loved about the house was that there was an apartment in what used to be a garage. Separate from the house. Set kind of back in the trees. We thought it would be ideal for when the boys came to visit. And they do come, but never for more than a night here or there, and then they usually sleep on the living room couch.” He sat forward. “So, the apartment’s yours if you want it. You’d be close to the hospital but away from the traffic. And Susan would love the company.”
Leah was dumbfounded. “I couldn’t impose—”
“You wouldn’t be imposing. You’d be in your own self-contained unit, and I’d know you were comfortable.”
“Is it wise for a doctor to be doing this for a patient?”
“Wise? Let me tell you, Leah. There’s another reason I left New York, and that was because I was tired of the internal politics at a large city hospital. Here I do what I want. I decide what’s wise. And yes, I think my offer is wise, just as I think you’d be wise to take me up on it.”
“I’d want to pay rent,” she said, then winced. “The last time I said that, I got to where I was going and found it demolished.”
“This place isn’t demolished, and you can pay rent if it will make you feel better.”
“It will,” she said, smiling. “Thank you, Dr. Walsh.”
“Thank you. You’ve just made my day.” At her questioning look, he explained. “When I can make a patient smile, particularly one who walked in here looking as sober as you did, I know I’ve done something right.”
“You have.” Her smile grew even wider. “Oh, you have.”
9
THE APARTMENT WAS as perfect as Gregory Walsh had said it would be. With walls dividing the space into living room, bedroom and kitchenette, it seemed smaller than the cabin, but it was cozy. The furnishings were of rattan, and where appropriate, there were cushions in pale blue and white, with draperies to match, giving a cheerful, yet soothing effect. Leah had free access to the yard, which was lush in the wild sort of way that reminded her of the woods by the cabin and made her feel more at home.
Susan Walsh was an inspiration. “Good sport” was a mild expression to describe her attitude toward life; her disposition was so sunny that Leah couldn’t help but smile whenever they were together, and that was often.
But there were lonely times, times when Leah lay in bed at night feeling empty despite the growing life in her belly. Or times when she sat in the backyard, trying to work and being unable to concentrate because her mind was on Garrick. He called every few days, but the conversation was stilted, and more often than not she’d hang up the phone feeling worse than ever.
The desolation she felt stunned her. She’d never minded when, during each of her previous pregnancies, Richard had gone off on business trips. She tried to tell herself that her separation from Garrick was a sort of business trip, but it didn’t help. Garrick wasn’t Richard. Garrick had found a place in her heart and life that Richard had never glimpsed. She missed Garrick with a passion that six months before she wouldn’t have believed possible.
Physically, she did well. She saw Gregory at the hospital for biweekly appointments. His examinations grew more thorough and were often accompanied by one test or another. She didn’t mind them, for the results were reassuring, as was the fact that the hospital was close should she feel any pang or pressure that hinted at something amiss. She didn’t feel anything like that, only the sporadic movements of the baby, movements that became stronger and more frequent as one week merged into the next.
She wanted Garrick to feel those sweet little kicks and nudges. She wanted him to hear the baby’s heartbeat, as she had. But she knew she couldn’t have it all. In her way, she had made a choice. The problem was learning to live with it.
Then, shortly before dawn one morning, after she’d been in Concord for nearly a month, she awoke to an eerie sensation. Without opening her eyes, she pressed a hand to her stomach. Her pulse had automatically begun to race, but she couldn’t feel anything wrong. No aches or pains. No premature contractions. She was barely breathing, waiting to identify what it was that had awoken her, when light fingers touched her face.
Eyes flying wide, she bolted back and screamed.
“Shhhhh.” Gentle hands clasped her shoulders. “It’s just me.”
All Leah could make out was a blurred form in the pale predawn light. “Garrick?” she whispered as she clutched frantically at the wrists by her shoulders. He felt strong like Garrick. He smelled good like Garrick.
“I’m sorry I frightened you,” said the gravelly voice that was very definitely Garrick’s.
She threw her arms around his neck and held him for a minute, then, unable to believe he was really squatting by her bedside, pushed back and peered at him. She needed neither her glasses nor a light to distinguish each of the features she’d missed so in the past weeks.
“Frightened? You terrified me,” she exclaimed in a hoarse whisper. “What are … why are you … at this hour?”
He shrugged and gave a sheepish smile. “It took me longer than I thought to get everything packed.”
“Packed?” Her fingers clenched the muscles at the back of his neck. “Are you—”
“Moving in with you? Yes. I figured you owed me.”
Softly crying his name, she launched herself at him again. This time she hung on so relentlessly that he had to climb into bed with her to keep from being choked to death.
He didn’t mind. Any of it. “I’ve been in agony, Leah,” he confessed in a ragged whisper. “You’ve ruined the cabin for me. I’m miserable there without you. And those phone calls suck.”
She couldn’t restrain an emotional laugh. “Ditto for me. To all of it.”
“You weren’t at the cabin. You don’t know how empty it was.”
“I know how empty I’ve been.” Her mouth was against his throat. “But what about … you were so adamant about not coming …”
“You said the word in the note you left. Cowardice. It nagged at me and nagged at me until I couldn’t take it anymore. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me here, but I have to take the chance. I don’t have any other choice. Being with you means too much.”
With a soft moan of heavenly thanks, she began to kiss him—his neck, his beard, his cheekbones, eyes and nose. By the time she’d reached his mouth, she was bunching up his jersey, dragging it from the waistband of his jeans. Her progress was impeded briefly by his hands, which were all over her body, then homing in on those places that had altered most during their separation.
“I want you badly,” he groaned. “Can we?”
“Yes, but—”
“Let me make love to you.”
“You already have by coming here,” she whispered, her breath hot against his skin. She was kissing his chest, moving from one muscled swell to the next, one tight nipple to the other. “Now it’s my turn.”
Garrick couldn’t stop touching her, but he closed his eyes and lay back. He raised his hips when she unzipped his jeans and kicked his legs free after she’d peeled them down.
Leah loved him as she’d never done before. Her appetite was voracious, and the small sounds of pleasure that came from his throat made her all the more bold. His hands were restless in her hair, on her shoulders and back, and while she touched him everywhere, kissed him everywhere, he squeezed his eyes shut against the agony of ecstasy. When she took him into her mouth, he bucked, but her hands were firm on his hips, holding him steady for the milking of lips and tongue. The release he found that way was so intense, so shattering for them both, that the first rays of the sun were poking through the drapes before either of them co
uld speak.
“You make me feel so loved,” he whispered against her forehead.
“You are,” she returned as softly. “I hadn’t realized how much of my time at the cabin was spent showing you that—until I got here and didn’t know what to do with myself.”
He moved over her then, fingers splayed on either side of her head, eyes wide and brilliant. “You … have … no idea how much I love you.”
“I think I do,” she said with a soft smile. “You’re here, aren’t you?”
“Yes. And I intend to make it. For you.”
“No, for you.”
“And for you.”
“Okay, for me.”
“And for baby,” he said, lowering a hand to properly greet his child.
LEAH LET GARRICK FIND his own pace in Concord. She would have been happy if he just sat with her in the yard or the apartment and accompanied her to the hospital for her appointments. But he did more than that. Within days of his arrival, he signed up to take several courses at the local university. She knew that the first few trips he made there were taxing for him, because he returned to her pale and tired. But he stuck with it, and in time he felt less threatened.
Likewise, he insisted on taking her for walks each day. Gregory had recommended the exercise, and though they began with simple neighborhood trips, Leah’s eagerness and Garrick’s growing confidence soon had them covering greater distances. Often Garrick wheeled Susan in her chair while Leah held lightly to his elbow; other times Leah and Garrick went alone.
“How do you feel?” Leah asked on one of those private outings.
“Not bad.”
“Nervous?”
“Not really. No one seems to recognize me. No one’s looking twice.” He snorted. “If I had any brains, I suppose I’d be offended.”
“It’s because you do have brains that you’re not. How about at school? Have there been any double takes there?”
“No.” He didn’t tell her about the anxiety he’d felt when, during one of those very tense first days of classes, he’d stood for five minutes outside a local tavern, aching for a drink, just one to calm him down. Nor did he tell her of the flyers he’d seen posted around the university, advertising dramatic productions in the works; he’d stared at those, too, for a very long time.
Crossed Hearts (Matchmaker Trilogy) Page 17