“Why are you there?” she asked. “Please do not tell me it’s time to dismantle the nursery, Mack. I know I’ve been struggling, but I’m doing the best I can. I can’t face that room yet.”
“Please,” he said, and held out his hand. “Please, Suze. That’s not what I’m asking, but we do need to talk. I think we need to do it here.”
She hesitated for what seemed like an eternity before finally approaching. Even after she joined him, she kept her back to the room.
“I spoke to Connor earlier,” he said, holding her gaze. “The mom has decided to give her baby up for adoption, after all.”
Susie stared at him, clearly not comprehending. “What does that mean?”
“The baby could be ours, Susie.” He let the thought hang in the air, tried to gauge her reaction, but her expression gave away nothing. “But we have to be willing to take another chance. It doesn’t come with guarantees, though Connor says he’ll try to make it as solid as he can.” He drew the picture out of his pocket and handed it to her.
She reacted then. Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. “Oh, my God,” she whispered, then lifted her eyes to look into his. “She really could be ours, after all? When?”
“As soon as we agree, I think. Connor and I didn’t talk about that. I wasn’t even 100 percent sure I should tell you. I don’t think I could bear it if you got your heart broken again.”
She studied the picture intently, then asked, “How can we say no, Mack?” When she looked up from the picture, her eyes were shining. “This little girl could be ours. Fate’s giving us a second chance.”
He studied her face and saw the Susie he’d fallen in love with, the one who almost always let hope and optimism outshine despair. “Are you sure this is what you want, even after what you’ve been through? I know I’ve been encouraging you to consider adoption again, but this mom, you know she could be a bad risk when it comes to sticking with her decision.”
“Mack, I want so badly to hold a baby in my arms. I want us to have a family and this is our chance. I think this was meant to be. I have to believe that.”
“And you’re strong enough to deal with it, if it turns out you’re wrong?” He pulled her close, rested his chin on her head. “Because I can’t lose you over this, Suze. You’re my world.”
“And you’re mine. You always have been. I think we can make room in it for one more.”
Mack saw no way around it. As terrified as he was of a repeat of the last time, if this baby was what Susie needed, he’d put his own fears aside and move heaven and earth to see that it happened. He thought of the face in that tiny photograph and the powerful pull he’d felt as he’d stared into those solemn brown eyes.
“I’ll call Connor,” he said. “Why don’t you open the windows and get a little fresh air into this room?”
While he made the call, he watched as Susie opened windows, then moved around the room, touching the mobile over the crib to set the little bunnies into motion, then taking a ruffled pink dress from the rack inside a white wardrobe and holding it to her face. She picked up a pale yellow onesie next, then a stuffed bunny, all the while with tears streaming.
Mack disconnected the call and went to his wife. “Connor thinks he can make the arrangements for tomorrow.”
Her gaze shot up. “That soon?”
“Soon?” he said. “It feels as if we’ve been waiting forever.”
“You’re right, but an hour ago we didn’t think it was possible. Now we have to be ready by tomorrow.”
Mack looked around the perfect nursery. “I think we have pretty much everything we need.”
“But I need to call everyone. We’ll want to have the family here to meet her,” she said excitedly. Then her face fell. “Or maybe not.”
Mack knew exactly what she was thinking. “It won’t be like last time, Suze.” No matter what he had to do, he would make sure of that. This time they would bring a baby home.
“Still I think we’d better wait before planning anything,” she said, her apprehension plain.
Her expression had lost a little of its spark. Mack could understand that. His own stomach was in turmoil. If it was possible for hope and dread to coexist, that’s what was going on inside him right now. And if he felt this way, it would be quadrupled for Susie.
Please, God, let it work out this time, he prayed silently. Since his communications with God were pretty rare, he was tempted to call Nell and get her on the case, but they’d just agreed to keep this news to themselves a little longer. Hopefully his heartfelt plea would be enough just this once.
* * *
Sam watched warily as Carrie wandered around his living room, straightening this, examining that. She was clearly on edge, though he had no idea why. She’d already told him she’d sent Marc Reynolds on his way a couple hours earlier, so that was behind her. Was she having second thoughts already?
“Bobby’s in school?” she asked eventually.
“He left a couple of hours ago,” Sam said. Surely she already knew that, given it was midmorning.
“Then we’re alone?”
Suddenly he understood her nerves. They were alone with no likely interruptions. “We are alone,” he said, walking across the room to join her.
“And you don’t have to be at work right away?”
“Not till much, much later,” he confirmed. “You?”
“If I spend another minute going over the same papers for the hundredth time or checking the supplies, I might lose my mind,” she admitted. “I’m as ready to open as I’m going to be.”
“Interesting,” he said, running his finger along the curve of her jaw. “Here we both are, all alone, at loose ends. What do you suppose we should do?”
Her gaze held his. “If you don’t come up with an idea pretty darn quickly, you’re not the man I thought you were.”
Sam laughed and scooped her into his arms, but instead of heading for a bedroom, he sat on the sofa, Carrie snuggled in his lap.
She regarded him with obvious disappointment. “Seriously?”
“I am not going to drag you off to my room to make love for the very first time just because we both have some time to kill,” he said. “That’s no way to treat a lady.”
“Are you sure? The idea holds a lot of appeal to me. I thought you were as frustrated as I am.”
“Believe me, I’m plenty frustrated,” Sam said with heartfelt emotion. In fact, if she kept wiggling around, she was going to discover just how ready he was to take the next step. “I’m trying to play fair. You’re not the kind of woman a man just ravishes without thinking of the consequences.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Are we talking about condoms?”
This time her expression was so filled with disbelief that Sam resisted the desire to laugh. “No, we’re okay on the condom front.”
“Then what consequences?”
“Carrie, what does sleeping with me mean to you?”
“It means what it would to any woman,” she said impatiently, “that we’re getting closer, as close as two people can be. And, believe me, I’m aware that it doesn’t always mean the same thing to men. I learned that the hard way from the very man who tried to entice me back into his life earlier this morning.”
“And that’s why I want to be sure you and I are on the same page before we take that step. It would kill me to think that I’d hurt you the way Marc Reynolds did.”
“You couldn’t possibly do that, unless you’ve been secretly seeing some model I don’t know about.”
“You’re the only woman I’m seeing, the only woman I want in my life,” he said with complete sincerity.
“Then you’re making this a lot more complicated than it needs to be,” she said.
Sam knew what he was about to say was likely going to get this sexy, wonderful woman not only out of his arms, but likely out the door. Still, he had to be honest with her. Cards on the table, and all that.
“If I were remotely ready to take
the next step,” he said.
“You mean sex?”
“I mean marriage.”
Her eyes widened. “When did marriage enter into this?”
“Right now, or at least it should have. You’re the kind of woman who deserves to walk down the aisle in a gorgeous white gown with your whole family looking on. I want that for you.”
“Okay,” she said slowly. “But?”
“I’m not sure I can be the guy who’s waiting for you at the front of the chapel.”
She was on her feet in a heartbeat, just as he’d predicted, looking glorious in her anger.
“Have I said one single word about marriage? Have I hinted that I need a ring on my finger? Or that you’d be the man I want to put it there? No, I have not! I’m no more ready for that than you are.”
She started to pace. “How could I have done this twice?” she asked of no one in particular.
“Done what twice?” Sam asked, confused.
“Fallen in love with a complete idiot.”
When he stared at her in shock, she waved him off with an impatient gesture. “Oh, don’t go getting yourself all worked up. I might love you, but I’m not some clinging vine who needs hearts and flowers and romance every minute of every day. I need a partner who values me. I need a man who wants what I want, who knows the importance of family. I thought that might be you. Maybe you’re not the one who’s an idiot. Maybe it’s me, after all.”
“You are not an idiot,” Sam said forcefully. “The jury’s probably still out on me. I’m just trying to do the right thing.”
“Yeah, you want to be fair. You don’t want to take advantage of me under false pretenses. I get it. You’re noble.”
She made it sound as if that was the worst thing in the world he could possibly be. Since, at the moment, it was keeping her out of his bed, where they both wanted to be, maybe she was right.
Chin held high, she leveled a look at him. “Call me when you decide you’re ready to take the next step. If you’re very, very lucky, maybe I’ll still be available.”
And then she was gone, just as Sam had also predicted. He’d done the right thing just now. He knew in his heart that he had. He’d been honest.
So why did it feel as if it had cost him everything he’d ever wanted?
23
Carrie opened her kitchen cupboards, which were filled with family castoffs, and tried to choose a dish she wasn’t overly fond of, something dispensable, something she wouldn’t regret smashing into a thousand pieces.
Her gaze fell on a gravy boat. Who needed a gravy boat? Not her, since she hadn’t cooked a meal requiring gravy even once in her entire life. Gravy was Nell’s domain, as were the mashed potatoes and everything else that tasted better when covered with rich, flavorful gravy. Her attempt to make gravy under Nell’s tutelage hadn’t gone all that well. She doubted she’d repeat it.
She yanked the piece off the shelf and tested the weight in her hand, delighted to discover it wasn’t some kind of delicate porcelain, but rather something substantial that would make a satisfying crash against the wall. Too bad she couldn’t toss it straight at Sam’s hard head.
Wasn’t it enough that she’d had to deal with Marc again first thing this morning and send him on his way? Had she really needed Sam going all noble on her and refusing to sleep with her because he wasn’t ready for marriage, wasn’t sure he ever would be?
Really? What man refused when a willing woman was stretched across his lap? It wasn’t as if he’d been immune to her, either. That would have opened a whole other kettle of fish, but she knew he wanted her just as badly as she’d wanted him. There’d been no mistaking the evidence of that.
So, he was an idiot or a saint. Because it suited her mood, she was going with idiot! Saying a mental goodbye to the gravy boat, she hurled it at the wall, where it shattered so thoroughly, gave her such satisfaction that she grabbed blindly for something else, anything else that might get this fit of temper out of her system.
She pulled back her arm to throw a silly souvenir mug from Paris—two birds with one mug, so to speak, since Marc had bought the stupid thing for her—when she heard her mom’s voice.
“So this is why you didn’t answer the door when I knocked,” Abby said, looking at the shards of pottery on the floor and the mug still gripped tightly in Carrie’s hand. “Having a bad day?”
Abby plucked the mug out of danger, then walked to the pot of coffee that was still warm on the kitchen counter and filled the mug. “Think of this as giving it one last useful moment before you destroy it,” she said.
Carrie studied her mother with a suspicious gaze. “Mom, what are you doing here? I don’t imagine you came to rescue my dishes.”
“I heard Marc was in town. Jess said you had quite the meeting at the inn. I thought you might need to talk.”
Carrie waved off the entire confrontation with Marc. “It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t matter.”
“Good to know,” Abby said with satisfaction, studying Carrie over the rim of the mug as she took a leisurely sip of coffee. “So,” she asked eventually, “the shattered pottery has nothing to do with Marc?”
“Nope.”
“No more unresolved feelings, no more longing for what you once had?”
Carrie actually shuddered. “Not even a tiny bit.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Abby said. “He wasn’t worthy of you.” She studied Carrie for another minute, then said oh-so-innocently, “So, this must be about Sam.”
Carrie frowned. “Why must it be about Sam? Why does it have to be about any man? Maybe I’m just having a lousy day. Maybe I failed an inspection at the day-care center. Maybe Grandpa Mick made me crazier than usual.”
Her mother made a valiant effort to hide a smile, but failed miserably. “Okay, that’s fair enough. I jumped to a conclusion. I’ll rephrase. What brought on this mood?”
Carrie didn’t appreciate the oh-so-patient, patronizing tone, especially since they both knew what her response was going to be. “Sam, of course.” Before her mom could gloat, she added, “But I don’t want it to be about Sam. I don’t want it to be about me falling for yet another man I’ve apparently been reading all wrong. Marc accused me of having a little schoolgirl crush on him, something of no consequence. Maybe that’s all it is with Sam, too. He certainly doesn’t see it going anywhere.”
“Have you stopped to consider the possibility that he’s scared? This is a man who, by his own admission, never really thought much about settling down, much less having a family. Now, out of the blue, he’s a dad. And, also out of the blue, he discovers he has feelings for you. That’s a lot for a carefree guy to try to absorb in a matter of a few months.”
“I’m not trying to rush him down the aisle, for heaven’s sake. I just want to sleep with him.”
Abby didn’t even try to contain her laugh at that. “Too much information, sweetie. Not that I’m easily shocked. We’ve all seen this coming. And we all know that you have very little patience. You want what you want when you want it. I blame your grandfather for that. He always saw that you and your sister got everything you ever asked for. I’m sure if you were to tell him you want to jump into bed with Sam, he’d do his level best to make that happen, too.”
“Mom!” Carrie protested, though she, too, laughed. “He probably would, wouldn’t he?”
“It might make him a little crazy, because you are one of his innocent little angels, but yes, he probably would. Do you want that?”
“Heavens, no!” she said fervently. “If Grandpa Mick interferes, it would probably send Sam packing.”
“And you don’t want that?”
“No, of course not. I don’t want marriage, either. Not right away, anyway.”
“But you are in love with Sam? And you see marriage to him in your future?”
Carrie sighed. “I’m scared to,” she admitted. “He might never change his mind.”
“Oh, I think he will, once his nerves have a chance to sett
le.”
“So we’re back to patience,” Carrie said, resigned.
“And that open heart Nell talks about so much.” Abby set her mug in the sink and pulled Carrie into an embrace. “Focus on the day-care center for now. We’re going to celebrate that at Sunday dinner. Nell has all your favorites on the menu. Enjoy your big moment. Focus on the grand opening that’s coming up in just a few more weeks. Everything else will fall into place.”
“Promise?” Carrie said wistfully. O’Brien promises were always kept.
“As much as it’s in my power,” Abby said, then smiled. “And we always have your grandfather in reserve for backup.”
Carrie chuckled, just as her mom had intended. She had to wonder, though—if it came right down to it, she’d resort to whatever devious means were necessary to convince Sam the future wasn’t as scary as he was imagining it to be...as long as they faced it together.
* * *
Sam spent the rest of the morning after Carrie’s departure pacing around his house and trying to convince himself he’d done the right thing. Somehow, though, he couldn’t shake the look on her face as she’d left, as if he’d turned his back on something important. Not just sex, but on the two of them.
Since the house wasn’t big enough to contain his frustrated pacing, he stepped outside just in time for the arrival of the mail carrier, who handed him an express envelope. Glancing at the return address, he saw it was from Robert’s parents.
Inside there was a sealed envelope he recognized at once as being Laurel’s favorite lavender stationary. A note from Robert’s mother had been paper-clipped to it.
Dear Sam,
I found this addressed to you when we were cleaning out the house. I’m sorry I didn’t spot it sooner, but I wanted to get it to you as quickly as I could. I hope you and Bobby are doing well and that we can all get together soon. We loved the pictures from the birthday party. Thanks so much for doing that.
Sincerely, Delores
Sam’s hand trembled as he held the envelope from his sister. Why had she tucked it away somewhere and never mailed it? He sighed. Only one way to find out.
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