Cammie chose to stay home while the episode was taped, and when Ty came back from the ordeal it was to her apartment. “Screw the media,” he muttered as he drew her into his arms, having successfully shaken a paparazzi from his tail. “I’m sick of being today’s flavor, and I’m even sicker of being polite.” He managed a short bark of laughter. “Every time somebody thrusts a mike in front of me, I want to resort to rude noises and gestures.”
“That ought to win over your public,” Cammie responded with suppressed mirth.
“They’ll all wish I’d stayed missing.”
“Not all of them,” she murmured, her aqua eyes filled with a come-hither look Ty felt he could drown in.
“Come here, woman,” he muttered.
Cammie draped herself across his arms. “I love that He-Man stuff, Mr. Stovall.”
“Yeah?”
“Take me to bed.”
He lifted a knowing brow. “Well, put it to me that way…”
He kissed her hard, and she grinned against the curve of his mouth. Following her commands dutifully, he carried her into her bedroom and they made love with passion and love and a need deeper than Cammie had experienced before. When it was over, she lay across his chest, her hair splayed in a soft, reddish wave. Ty contemplatively drew an auburn tress through his fingers. “I tried not to talk about it,” he confessed. “I did everything I knew how to avoid the questions.”
Cammie opened her eyes, staring across the half-darkened room. “How do you think it went?”
“Okay,” he admitted, sounding a bit surprised. “They got a few answers out of me, but there’s no altering the fact that Gayle took her own life. My leaving was a reaction to all the ugliness. That’s all there is to the story.”
“Good.” Cammie’s voice was light. “It sounds like our troubles are behind us and we can look to the future.”
“I hope you’re right,” he said, and Cammie wrapped her arms even more tightly around his hair-roughened chest, supremely happy.
That particular program aired a week later. Though Ty had told her it would come off okay, Cammie had been unable to watch without biting her nails. She was at Susannah’s office, and Susannah, spying her nail-chewing, slapped at Cammie’s hands. “He was great!” she declared, and a relieved Cammie had to agree.
Ty wasn’t with them. He and the Connellys and the Rock Bottom crew were still filming that night. Cammie wasn’t due on the set until later the following week, so she’d spent the time pacing the confines of her apartment, driving Susannah crazy and reading over her lines. “Co-star,” as it turned out, was an inflated term for the small role. The story was Ty’s and Ty’s character, Norm Franklin’s. She was a catalyst for the change in Norm’s sordid life; she kick-started his salvation. But that didn’t mean she had a huge part, though it was meaty. So, Cammie was forced to wait around while Ty worked on what he termed his rusty acting skills.
Samuel, for his part, had been careful to stay in the background. Ty had confronted him about his hidden agenda when it came to bargaining for a role for himself. Samuel, unrepentant, said simply, “Stop looking for a worm under every rock. It’s not like you haven’t benefited yourself!”
Ty had shaken his head all over again. “He never ceases to amaze me,” he told Cammie.
“How are you dealing with it?”
“I just don’t think of him as my father, then it doesn’t matter,” was Ty’s solution.
Now, as Ty prepared for another day of shooting, he tried to push his annoyance with his father and the continuing media storm aside. He loved acting and he loved Cammie. Nothing else mattered.
Cammie parked her BMW outside Susannah’s office, walked inside the lobby and punched the button for the elevator. Stepping inside the car, she hit the lighted number two. The elevator lurched upward. A wave of intense nausea washed over her, and when the doors slid open on Susannah’s floor, Cammie stayed put for a moment, one hand leaning against the wall, the other clutching her stomach. Gingerly, she stepped into the hallway and walked with careful, mincing steps to Susannah’s office door.
“Hey, there.” Teri called, upon seeing Cammie. Then, quickly, “Are you okay?”
“Water…” Cammie croaked out.
She was herded into Susannah’s inner office by solicitous hands. Susannah, as ever, was on the phone, but spying Cammie’s unnatural color, she hung up with unaccustomed speed.
“Whoa, what’s wrong, hon?” she demanded.
“I feel—sick.”
“Come on, let’s get you to the bathroom!”
Susannah practically yanked Cammie from her chair and helped her to the bathroom. Cammie waved her away. It was too, too embarrassing! Reluctantly, Susannah obeyed. Light-headed and seeing tiny spots, Cammie then beelined for the toilet, wretching violently.
Long minutes later, she flushed and then rinsed her mouth and face at the sink, staring at her ghastly greentinged reflection in the mirror as the bell to Susannah’s office buzzed from down the hall, announcing a new visitor.
“Ohhh…” Cammie groaned, not interested in seeing anyone in her current condition.
Current condition…
Shockwaves of heat ripped through Cammie’s veins. Her face flushed pink in front of her eyes. Pregnancy? She’d just assumed she’d caught the flu, but since she’d experienced no other symptoms, the obvious answer was something else. Clapping a hand to her mouth, Cammie thought back to her other, brief pregnancies and recognized joyfully that this was exactly how she’d felt before!
A baby. A family. The man she loved!
Thoughts jumbled through her mind. Dangerous, heady dreams. Fear followed in rapid succession: a return to reality. It wasn’t that she couldn’t conceive. That had never been the problem. It was that she couldn’t carry a healthy baby to term.
Despair followed rapidly on the heels of ultimate joy. With an effort Cammie pulled herself back under control. She had to think, think!
She hadn’t seen Dr. Crawley since she’d returned from Bayrock. She’d been too swept up in the megaevent of Ty’s return. She would make an appointment tomorrow.
For tonight, she would keep her secret safe.
“You okay?” Susannah asked when Cammie reappeared.
Cammie opened her mouth to assure her when, behind Susannah, she recognized the newest arrival. Lounging in one of the chairs, looking as if he owned the place, was her unmourned-for ex-husband. While Cammie sought to keep the annoyance out of her face, he gave her a searching once-over. “You look like death,” he observed. “Susannah said you were sick.” His gaze sharpened instantly, and to Cammie’s horror, he jumped straight to the right conclusion: “Don’t tell me you’re pregnant again.”
“You know that’s impossible,” she managed faintly. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you, actually. It appears I’ve been usurped on Rock Bottom.” Anger turned his attention back to himself and away from Cammie, much to her relief. “I’m superfluous, or so I’ve been told! Very politely, I was asked to leave.”
“Well, of course you were,” Susannah declared, as if he were the densest individual on earth. “This is the Connellys’ show. You helped them, but it’s their baby. You knew that going in, Paul.”
He couldn’t argue with her, so he just flattened his lips in stubborn resentment. Cammie was too absorbed with her own discovery to pay much attention. Finally, when it appeared he would receive no help or sympathy from his ex-wife, Paul left in a sulky huff.
Then, Susannah turned to Cammie and said, “Better get to that gynecologist of yours ASAP, don’t ya think?”
“You can’t believe everything Paul says,” Cammie demurred.
“My instincts—remember? Honey, I’m so hardly ever wrong—it’s scary.”
“It can’t be, though.” Hope whispered through her words.
In response, Susannah came over and hugged her fiercely. Tears starred Cammie’s lashes, and Susannah said on a mock groan, “Just don’t let it
mess up Rock Bottom, please, please, please! That’s all I care about.”
“Oh, sure.”
Susannah understood Cammie’s medical problems only too well. Giving Cammie one last squeeze of affection, she said, “All right, I’m a big softy.” A pause. “So, when it’s all confirmed, when—and how—are you going to tell the proud papa?”
“I have no idea,” Cammie admitted, swallowing. “No idea at all…”
In the safety of Ty’s arms three hours later, back at her apartment for a few stolen moments before he had to leave for his hotel, Cammie still couldn’t stop her internal shaking. Paul had effectively shattered her nerves with his blasted intuition where she was concerned; Susannah’s voicing of her own worries had practically pulverized her.
“Hey, relax,” Ty whispered. She could hear the smile in his voice as he nuzzled her ear. “It was bound to happen sooner or later.”
“What?” she asked faintly, believing half hysterically that he somehow knew!
“That Paul would get the message. He’s pretty persistent, however. He never let anyone forget that he put the deal together. On the bright side, he nearly drove dear old Dad crazy.”
It’s not about Paul.
Cammie closed her eyes and swallowed. They were cuddled together on her love seat. She hadn’t been able to let go of him since he’d sneaked off to join her at her apartment.
“Paul’s lucky that television drama still employs him,” Ty added.
“Cherry Blossom Lane,” Cammie whispered by rote.
“Stop worrying about him. He’s just part of your past, and that’s what this time is all about—burying the past.”
Cammie nodded silently. She fervently wished it were true, and she hoped against hope that she truly was pregnant. They were entering a whole new realm. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if all the beautiful pieces fell into place?
Except Ty doesn’t want children. Not that you could go to term anyway. If you are, indeed, pregnant…
“You’re awfully quiet,” he observed.
“I’m—tired.”
“Then let me put you to bed. I’ve got an early call tomorrow, so I should be on my way, too.” He rose from the love seat and gently pulled her to her feet.
“I love you,” she declared suddenly, kissing him with extra need and ardor.
He grinned, pulling back to read her expression. “I love you, too,” he said, the words growing easier by the day to admit. But her eyes were anxious, her mouth tense. “What is it?”
“I just want everything to be perfect. I don’t want anything to spoil this.”
“Like what? We’ve walked through the fire together.” Cammie nodded. “You’re right.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
“No, I am. Really.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Ty…?”
As they strolled toward her bedroom, arms surrounding each other, Ty gazed down at her, loving her sweetness and beauty and support. “Yes?”
“Everything’s just so right. Sometimes it scares me a little. I’ve always dreamed about someday, you know?”
“Someday?”
“About the day when everything is perfect. When I find everything I want.”
Her tension bled into him, and Ty peered in the halflight of her tiny hallway to examine her face. “Are you getting closer to ‘someday’?”
“I’m almost there, Ty. We’re almost there.” She was fervent. “I’ve got—a family—again. I feel connected.”
“Well, good,” he said, a little at a loss.
“Maybe it’s already here.”
When she hesitated, Ty waited, feeling slightly uneasy. He could tell she was trying to express herself, but something wasn’t quite coming through. He was about to push for more information when she shook her head and bestowed a brilliant smile on him that took his breath away.
“I’m being silly,” she said. “Don’t listen to me.”
“Then everything’s okay?”
“Perfect.”
She ended the conversation by lifting her lips to meet his. No proof against such an attractive invitation, Ty pulled her close and buried his face in the silken wonder of her hair.
“Don’t worry, my love,” he said, offering encouragement for something he didn’t really understand. “Nothing can come between us now.”
For an answer, she shuddered silently in his arms.
Dr. Crawley regarded Cammie thoughtfully over the tops of her half-moon glasses. “Everything looks fine.”
“I’m pregnant,” Cammie breathed, repeating the words she’d heard just moments before. “I’m pregnant.”
Dr. Crawley refrained from offering either advice or predictions about the outcome of this pregnancy. Cammie understood, but she wanted assurances anyway.
“I want this baby,” Cammie whispered. “I really want it.”
“I understand.”
“Isn’t there anything I can do? Anything…?”
“Take good care of yourself and don’t overtax.”
“I’ve got this film role I’m starting next week. It’s not hard, but if you think I should quit, I would in a heartbeat.”
The doctor smiled and shook her head. “No. Not now anyway. You’re a healthy young woman who understands the risks involved with endometriosis. Keep your fingers crossed and your faith strong. Medically speaking, it’s just a matter of wait and see.”
Impulsively, Cammie hugged Dr. Crawley around the neck, surprising her. “I’m sorry,” Cammie whispered breathlessly. “I just want this so much!”
“I know.”
They hugged for several moments, until Cammie could let go of her fear long enough to release the doctor.
“Have you told the baby’s father?” Dr. Crawley asked as Cammie stepped back.
Cammie shook her head. “Not yet.”
“Will he be as happy as you are?”
Cammie thought about explaining that the baby’s father was none other than Tyler Stovall. Whether Dr. Crawley knew about Ty’s disappearance and reemergence, and his reported relationship with Cammie, was anyone’s guess. It was all over the news, but Dr. Crawley didn’t bring it up and Cammie couldn’t find the energy to explain.
“I think he will,” she said after a moment of reflection, mentally crossing her fingers. “He’s coping with all kinds of changes in his life right now. I think he’ll cope with this.”
The doctor’s brows rose slightly. “That doesn’t sound like a ringing endorsement.”
Cammie laughed nervously. “Well, I guess it’s not. Do you know—about what’s happening with me? I mean, have you been watching the news?” Cammie managed to ask.
“It would be hard to miss,” was the doctor’s dry response.
Cammie was relieved she didn’t have to explain too much. “Then you probably guessed the baby’s father is Tyler Stovall.”
She nodded.
“Ty’s been dancing around with the press since the moment he returned. It hasn’t been easy.”
“You’re saying this baby will be an extra pressure he doesn’t need right now.”
“No.” She winced. “Well, yes, maybe. I don’t know.”
“Have you talked about having children together?”
Cammie’s hands were cold as ice. All the things Ty had said about never wanting children flooded through her brain. But that was different! That was before he’d managed to find a way to deal with his own father. Wasn’t it? “We haven’t even set a wedding date yet,” Cammie admitted a bit shakily.
“Does he know about your medical condition?”
“Yes, in a way. I haven’t explained the details about endometriosis, but he knows—there’s a problem.” She bit her lip. He thinks I can’t have children at all.
Dr. Crawley didn’t offer any further advice, but Cammie picked up the message loud and clear: Perhaps you’d better talk about this situation right away.
Back at her apartment, she paced around, wringing her
hands like some damsel in distress from an old B-movie! How could she tell him? How could she not? What if he turned away from her? What if he thought she was a liar? What if he seriously didn’t ever want a child after all the misery Gayle had caused in that regard?
What if he’s as happy as I am!
“I don’t know, I don’t know,” she whispered aloud to the empty room.
It was late before Ty himself showed up at the apartment, and by then Cammie had moved to the back deck, her foot pushing the wrought-iron swing chair into a gentle, rhythmic sway.
“Hey, beautiful,” he greeted her tiredly. He flopped into the companion chair. “What a day!”
“Tough, huh?”
“Only because dear old Dad makes it so.” He groaned and closed his eyes. “My mother stopped by. I asked her to. Apart from a few minutes here and there when we’re not running from the paparazzi, I haven’t really had a chance to see her.”
“She’s a breath of fresh air, isn’t she?” Cammie murmured, her thoughts elsewhere.
“Mmmm. Not like my father. Samuel has got to be the center of attention—always. And you know, he’ll never change, never grow. I’ve gotten over hating him, but I’ll never like him or trust him.”
Cammie looked down at her hands. They were shaking. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Ty slid her a sideways glance full of questions. “Well, I don’t think that’s any surprise. I know you’re happy to be part of a family, but Samuel’s a poor excuse for a father in anyone’s book.”
“Fatherhood’s important, though.” Cammie was earnest. “I hope you’re not dismissing it because of how poor Samuel is in the role.”
“I’m not dismissing it. It’s great for some people.”
“But not you.”
“Cammie, this isn’t exactly a news bulletin. We’ve been over this before.”
“I know. I just don’t quite understand it, that’s all.”
Someday Soon Page 33