Chapter 3
“Elizabeth.”
A warm, strong hand held hers, and she traced the knuckles with the pad of her thumb.
“Elizabeth?”
“Yes?” Lashes fluttering, Elizabeth struggled to surface from her dream. Jason’s handsome face loomed before her, a mere whisper away, and she breathed deeply, smiling with sublime joy. It was real. He was here. Oh, this was paradise.
Elizabeth stretched the languid stretch of a cat napping in a sunny window seat. This was real and delicious and so very wonderful. His eyes sparkled, a reflection of what shone in hers, no doubt.
“Hey, sleepyhead, it’s time to rock and roll.”
“Hmm?” Her laughter was deep and throaty.
“It’s nine o’clock. We’ve gotta check out of this joint in less than an hour. Can you shower and do your beauty thing by then?”
“What?” Elizabeth bolted upright in bed as reality came crashing down. With wide eyes she glanced at her surroundings and the details of yesterday’s emergency suddenly came flooding back. Flopping forward, she drew up her knees, buried her head in her hands and groaned. She didn’t even want to know what she looked like. Jason probably thought birds had been nesting in her hair, and her makeup and breath surely left something to be desired.
Though, why she cared so much what he thought now remained a mystery. It wasn’t as if she were at her peppy best all day yesterday, what with the running mascara and shiny, red nose. But still, a girl— even a six-months-pregnant girl with smeared makeup and bad hair—bad her pride.
And there he was, all minty fresh and looking GQ in his clean jeans and not too tight yet revealing just the same T-shirt. The stinker had even shaved and splashed on a dab of something lightly intoxicating on his jaw. He must have gone home to shower and come back already.
She yanked a sheet over her head. “Mornin’,” she mumbled.
“You feeling all right?”
She nodded, huddled against her knees, refusing to sit up and meet his eye.
“You sure?”
She nodded again.
His voice was leaden with humor. “Would you like me to leave?”
“No!” She could hear his laughter rambling from deep within his fabulous granite chest, and it was contagious. Her laughter harmonized with his as she rugged off the sheet—her hair even worse now from the static—and pointed at him. “I think it’s only fair to warn you that now that you’ve seen me looking like this, I’m going to have to kill you.”
Jason hooted. “Listen, baby, I’ve seen interns who looked just like you for a solid year. And don’t even get me started on some of my autopsy work. I think you look just fine. A little scruffy, maybe, but in a beautiful way. Besides, you can’t kill me. At least not before I get your blood pressure.”
She harrumphed. “Whatever it is, it’s wrong.”
“Let me be the judge of that,” he said, his low laughter easy as he took her arm in his hands. After he’d run through the requisite tests, he snagged her chart from the end of the bed and began reading Sherry’s notations. “Okay Ms.—” his eyes flicked from the chart to her face and back “—Mansfield? Wait a minute. I thought your name was Sonderland.”
“It was.” She peered at him for any sign of anger, but there was none. In fact, there didn’t seem to be much reaction to the Mansfield name at all.
“Oh, reverting to your maiden name, huh?” He jotted numbers in various columns and then moved to the end of her bed and hung her chart.
“Yes.” The word was a squeaky peep. Eyes scrunched closed, she waited for the other shoe to drop, but it didn’t. Slowly, she opened her eyes and studied his serene expression. What was wrong with him? Didn’t he know that he was supposed to be spurning her? Perhaps he was too preoccupied with her freaky-deeky hairdo to notice that he was in the presence of the enemy.
“Well, okay then, Ms. Mansfield. I’ll go visit a few of my patients while you hop in the shower, and then we’ll have Dr. Mhan discharge you and I’ll take you home.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I can call a cab. It’s no big deal.”
“Don’t be absurd.” He looked slightly wounded that she would even suggest such a thing. “Now go hop in the shower, or we’ll be too late for pancakes at that little diner across the street.”
“Pancakes?”
“You don’t expect me to drive you home on an empty stomach, do you?”
Elizabeth tilted her head back and laughed at his comical expression. “No. But I insist on buying.”
“You are mean.”
“So some of my students tell me. Now, you are dismissed, sir. This little gown doesn’t exactly protect my modesty.”
“That’s what I like about them.” He grinned at the horrified look on her face. “I’ll meet you back here in exactly one hour.”
Elizabeth couldn’t wait.
* * *
Slightly over an hour later, Jason was seated across from Elizabeth in a booth in Aunt Rose’s Old-Fashioned Diner. As he gazed at her over a healthy stack of pancakes, he knew in his heart that there was nowhere on this earth that he’d rather be.
And—what with his name and social standing being the stuff of legends—the places that would be thrilled to welcome him into their folds at Sunday brunch that morning were numerous and elite.
But Jason never had cared much for the lifestyle of the rich and not so famous. He was a simple guy and found pleasure in simple things. He wanted a family someday. Several kids. A few dogs. Maybe a cat and a turtle or two. And a little place with a yard big enough for a trampoline and a tree fort and a cement driveway and a garage so he and his boys could shoot hoops.
In fact, the only thing wrong with this picture— considering that for the past few years, he’d honestly believed that he’d be sitting across the table eating breakfast with a pregnant woman by now—was that the woman should have been Angie, and the baby his.
Water under the bridge, he thought for the first time, without the ever-present pang that usually plagued him when he thought of Angie. Hmm. Must be healing. Maybe water did indeed flow under the bridge and on to bigger and better things.
Truth be told, he already felt connected to Elizabeth in a way that he never had to Angie, and he’d only known Elizabeth for a day. With Angie, it was clear that he’d been in love with being in love. With Elizabeth, he was beginning to think he could fall in love with life.
Again.
Yes, she’d had a profound effect on him, all right. He still couldn’t believe that when he’d gone to wake her up this morning, he’d oh-so-lightly kissed her cheek and then inhaled the sweet scent at her temple. He’d have climbed over the rail and continued his journey right down her neck to her throat and back up to her mouth, had sanity not intervened in the form of Nurse Effie, Prosperino’s version of Nurse Ratched.
As it was he’d had to trump up eyestrain as his reason for bringing his face so closely to Elizabeth’s. The old biddy hadn’t bought a bit of the eyestrain thing, and no doubt by the end of the day the nursing staff would be buzzing about his illegitimate baby. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Actually, the idea wasn’t so terrible. He’d always wanted a son.
Plunging a hand through his hair, he attempted to drive this ridiculous train of thought from his brain. He was going around the bend in a big way. His gaze darted up to Elizabeth, and the drop of syrup that hovered on her full lower lip. Was it any wonder? He was sitting across the table from one of heaven’s angels.
Yesterday’s scare seemed to have no ill effects on Elizabeth’s appetite, and she dug into her pancakes with gusto. Jason grinned. He loved a woman with a healthy appetite.
“I wonder what Savannah and Harrison are doing now,” she mused as she took a break from eating long enough to dab her lips and then blow across her mug.
“I know what I’d be doing.”
She stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. “Okay. Fine. I wonder what else they’re doing.�
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“What else is there?”
“I can see you have a one-track mind.”
“Not always. I can be persuaded to make civilized conversation. For example, it was a lovely wedding yesterday. Except for the part where you were stricken with pain.”
“True, that was a bit of a downer. But I can’t say I’m sorry it happened, being that I don’t have to eat alone this morning.”
“Ditto.” His heart soared at her words. “They do seem perfect for each other,” he ventured.
“Savannah and Harrison? Yes, they do.” She emitted a somewhat strangled sound that he supposed she meant to be laughter. “Of course, I thought that Mike and I were perfect for each other four years ago. I couldn’t have been more wrong.”
“Did you date for a long time?”
“Yes. You’d think I’d have had a clue, huh?”
“Not always. Sometimes time doesn’t have anything to do with whether or not two people are going to make it. I know. I dated a woman named Angie—”
“I know. Sherry filled me in.”
Jason grinned and rolled his eyes. “I can always count on the nurses to take care of me. Anyway, where was I?”
“You were dating Angie?”
“Oh, yeah. As you probably know, I dated her for a year. More than once, people tried to talk some sense into me, when it came to her, but I didn’t want to hear the truth.”
Elizabeth commiserated. “Even though you know it’s wrong, it’s hard to walk away. I was raised to believe marriage is forever. I still want to believe that.”
“Me, too.”
“I’d been wrestling with leaving Mike for a long time, but could never bring myself to pack my bags, thinking that someday, somehow, I could love him enough that he would straighten up and fly right. We were married for three years, the last two of which were hell.”
“That’s too bad.”
Elizabeth’s shrug was philosophical. “He had a lot of problems. Childhood stuff that I couldn’t seem to help him with. There was a big hole in his heart, the shape of his father, I think. He was always looking for the perfect love. At first, he thought he found it in me. But I couldn’t undo all of his hurts.”
Jason folded his hands on the table and leaned forward, listening intently. There was something about her experience that was so akin to his. Angie, too, had her share of problems stemming from a serious lack of self-esteem and he knew only too well what it was like to love a person who had more needs than it was possible to fill.
A long, heavy sigh blew past Elizabeth’s lips. “Last October Mike came home after one of his philandering weekends on the town and begged my forgiveness and well, as you can see, I forgave him. But he was up to his old tricks within a week, and when he found out I was pregnant, that was the proverbial last straw. Which, in retrospect, is fine. Just saved me having to kick him out, down the road. He is not father material. Never wanted to be, so why force him and his lack of moral character on some poor little kid?”
“Sounds like you are recovering nicely.”
“After several years of heartbreak, I really think I am moving beyond the pain. The baby is helping a lot. Giving me something to look forward to.”
“You’re lucky.”
“It sounds like you’re healing, too.”
“You know, I think I am.” He held up his mug and clinked it against hers. “Here’s to better judgment in the future.”
“And knowing when something is right.” Jason nodded, unsure as to what to say, for it had only been twenty-four hours and he was afraid he might already know.
* * *
Elizabeth’s car was still at the church, so Jason dropped her there, and then insisted on following her home. As she navigated the streets to her little cottage at the edge of town, Elizabeth would occasionally glance into her rearview mirror and see him there, his rock-solid presence a comfort.
He’d been so amazing since the wedding. Completely above and beyond the call of duty. She needed to think of some way to show her gratitude.
Something special, but not so special that he got the wrong idea.
Or rather, she thought, casting a sheepish glance back at him, the right idea. She’d been somewhat remiss in battling her crush, it seemed, and now it had blown all out of proportion. If she didn’t stop thinking of him as her gallant knight, and going all mushy every time he smiled, he was going to figure it out and ran screaming.
Jason Colton was not here to fix her life. He was simply interested in her well-being from a physician’s point of view. Surely, there were other women from his wealthy, privileged background standing in line to love him and marry him and give him sons. His sons.
She was just a friend of the family.
And given the hatred that characterized the history between their families, she wondered if she’d even be considered that.
Chapter 4
Jason parked his Jaguar behind Elizabeth’s Toyota in a gravel driveway that flanked a small white cottage with black shutters. A smile that began in his belly worked its way to his mouth.
So, this was where she lived.
Instantly he loved her house and almost expected seven dwarfs to fling open the door in greeting. This was exactly the kind of storybook place he’d dreamed of living in with a wife and children someday. It oozed cozy warmth and love.
The front stoop was covered in one of the heaviest, most fragrant climbing rose bushes he’d ever encountered, and the flower beds that flanked the brick steps were loaded with the blooms of early spring. A picket fence, so cliche it could have come straight from happily-ever-after surrounded the postage-stamp-size lawn, and a flagstone path led to the front door from the sidewalk.
All his life, Jason had been lost in the cool stark-ness of his family’s massive mansion. And, though it had a regal sort of charm, he’d never really felt at home. No better was his empty condo, as, considering his lack of interest in all things decor, it was completely without any kind of homey ambiance.
Elizabeth fumbled with her key ring for the house key and noticed his look of amazement. “It’s not much,” she said, almost apologetically, “but it’s all mine.”
“It’s wonderful.” Jason touched her arm. “Really cute. I can see why you are happy here.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Well, come in for the rest of the tour, then.”
Beaming, she pushed open the front door and led him into a surprisingly spacious living room done in pastels and filled with airy Amish furniture, a comfy-looking couch, lots of books and quilts and a fireplace that was loaded with fresh-cut flowers. Off the living room lay a cheerful kitchen and dining room combo. Both rooms streamed with sunlight that filtered in from the many windows.
The hall that led to the back of the house brought them first to Elizabeth’s room, where she stopped. After a quick peek into the comfortable room that lured him to come nap in a blissful haven of peace, she waved him on.
“Go ahead and check out the backyard and the rest of the house while I change. There isn’t all that much to see, but feel free to roam.”
Jason took her at her word and moved first into the good-size bath complete with pedestal sink and claw-foot tub. A window looked out over a private patio garden and a backyard with space for a tree fort, a dog run, a trampoline and a basketball hoop on the side of the detached garage. Echoes of a young boy’s laughter teased him in this reverie, and he could hear his own voice coaching a golf swing.
Realizing that he was spending an inordinate amount of time in the bathroom, he moved into the second bedroom, which he’d fully expected to see dolled up for the baby.
But he’d been wrong.
Surprisingly, the room was void of anything remotely nurseryesque. There were boxes, yet to be unpacked, of books and memorabilia and other miscellany, but nothing that would meet the myriad needs of a baby. Brows knit, he hung an arm on the door frame and stared absently at the piles of scrap-books and desk contents.<
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The baby would be here in no time and she hadn’t even begun to prepare. Not, of course, that he blamed her. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have a lot going on in her life. But still, the kid would need a place to sleep and to be rocked and to play....
Jason was so deep in thought that he didn’t hear Elizabeth move up behind him until she poked her head under his arm and surveyed the room from his fresh perspective.
She cleared her throat and waved her hands, embarrassed. “I’ve been meaning to get some of that Beatrix Potter border paper and start combing the rummage sales for baby stuff, but time seems to have gotten away from me.”
“You shouldn’t be combing rummage sales and hanging wallpaper anyway.” He peered down at her. She’d changed into jeans and an oversize sweatshirt that nearly hid the fact that she carried a little boy in her womb. She was like an answer to a fervent prayer. “Not in your condition.”
“Jason, I’m pregnant. Not sick.”
‘‘Even so, this is a time to let yourself be pampered. Accept offers of help.”
“I’ve had lots of offers, but the idea of a rambunctious bunch of paintbrush-wielding sixth graders running amuck in here gives me hives.”
‘‘What if I help? I’m not in sixth grade and, while I’m no Martha Stewart, I know the business end of a paintbrush.”
Her eyes flitted to his, and then, as if she’d landed on a live wire, they took off for less heated territory. “You are very sweet, but I’m sure you have better things to do.”
No. No he didn’t. In fact, he couldn’t think of a thing he’d rather do than help her put this room together.
“What time do you get off work on Friday nights?”
“Well, my contract states I have to stay until three thirty, but I usually stay until five or so to get my lesson plans done and to correct papers. Why?”
“Because we’re going shopping.”
“We are?”
“Yes. No ifs, ands or buts.” With that, he leaned down, kissed her temple and showed himself the few steps it took to reach her front door. “I’ll be here to pick you up at five fifteen, this Friday. Be ready.”
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