* * *
IN THE DOORWAY, Wade debated whether to pull the covers over Adrienne. Since lifting and moving her would almost certainly wake her, he went to the hall linen closet, retrieved a comforter and spread that over her instead.
Downstairs he checked that the house was locked. In the den, the fake tree still glowed. The hall reminded Wade of Reg’s birthday party. He’d barreled in here uninvited to be greeted by the scents of chocolate and cinnamon and by a longing for the kind of home he’d had as a child.
Memories clustered about him like wistful ghosts. Thanksgiving and their last-minute dinner... Sitting on that couch, showing Reggie how to pick out chords on the guitar... The wedding, when he’d sung with the children... So many memories. Most of all, that night he’d spent with Adrienne, when he’d felt surrounded by her love.
She did love him. She was afraid of it, though. She’d been afraid all along.
So am I.
Disturbed by his thoughts, Wade switched off the lights and went upstairs. In his room he took a photo from the shelf, a high school graduation photo of Vicki. At eighteen she’d twinkled with high spirits. A cute blonde, she wore her mortarboard at a rakish angle, with the tassel barely missing her eye.
For all her youthful gaiety, she’d been cruel to him. But she’d suffered, too. And now she lay in that cemetery while the world went on without her. Wade saw her as she’d been, vulnerable and unstable, a woman who, as her sister said, hadn’t deserved to be born with a mental illness.
The last of his resentment faded. Though it was unintentional, Vicki had left him a precious gift with her death almost a year ago. His son. Make that two gifts: she’d also cleared the way for him to fall in love with Adrienne.
Time to bury the past, Wade thought. And to start working on the future.
Chapter Nineteen
Adrienne awoke to the scent of orange-cranberry muffins and the awareness that the two people dearest to her heart were downstairs. For today, she intended to simply enjoy being with them. Happiness was too precious to waste.
She showered and dressed in a silly red sweater embroidered with a couple kittens in Santa hats. Vicki had given it to her last year, and she prized it.
Downstairs in the kitchen, Wade wore an apron and a patch of dough on one cheek as he removed the muffins from the oven. At the crookedly set table, Reggie stuck a butter knife in a tub of margarine.
“I’ll bet you’re hungry,” Adrienne said.
Proudly, he pointed to the full coffeepot. “I made that. Dad showed me how.”
“You taught him to brew coffee?” It seemed to her like a rather grown-up task.
After positioning the muffin tin on the stove, Wade set down the pot holders. “When our son is determined to do something, it’s better to teach him the right way than let him try on his own.”
She conceded the point.
Reggie produced his tablet computer and, after a few clicks, showed her a map of Safe Harbor’s bus routes. “I’m not s’posed to go out alone ’cause it’s dangerous. But now I can find my way if I have to.”
Across the kitchen, Wade shot her a silent appeal. “Okay,” Adrienne said. “Anytime you’re tempted to do adult stuff, come to us first, okay?”
His head bobbed in agreement. “Can I pour you a cup?”
About to point out how heavy the carafe was, she caught herself. “Thanks for asking. Let your dad show you how.”
With Wade’s guidance and the aid of a pot holder, Reg filled her favorite mug. So what if he spilled almost as much as he poured? Thanks to Wade’s instructions, it went into the sink.
As soon as the muffins were cool enough to eat, they dug in. The meal went fast, both because they were hungry and because Reg was impatient to open presents.
Santa had left Presidential Pets by Julia Moberg and a couple other picture books under the tree. Reggie flipped through them with interest and then set them aside for later. Next Wade insisted his son open Adrienne’s packages. The little boy nearly got sidetracked by a computer puzzle game and had to be dissuaded from playing it immediately. He dived into another present, a hands-on science kit that Peter had recommended.
“We can both use this, okay, Dad?” he asked.
“You bet.” Wade’s smile seemed distracted.
Don’t think about what he might say later. Stay in the moment.
Before tackling his remaining gifts, Reggie handed them each a small package, messily wrapped in Sunday comics. Opening hers, Adrienne removed a computer-printed booklet filled with photos Reg had shot during the year. There she was at Harper’s wedding—an unflattering view from child height, but never mind that—plus there were pictures from school, sports camp and Mia’s birthday party last summer.
“I love it.” She hugged him.
Wade leafed carefully through his. “This is the best present anyone ever gave me.”
Peering over his shoulder, Adrienne saw that Reg had taken shots not only of his father but also of the toy police station after they’d assembled it. And, as with Adrienne’s book, he’d included an out-of-focus self-portrait with his little face scrunched and his tongue stuck out.
Priceless.
After gleefully accepting their thanks, Reg reached for a large package that bore Wade’s name. “Can I open this next?”
“Of course,” his father said.
It was a child-size guitar. Although small, it had a clear tone when Reggie ran his fingers across the strings.
“Now I can sing with you, Dad!” the boy exclaimed. “We can make a video.”
“That’s a great idea.” Wade handed him a second gift, which turned out to contain an instructional DVD. “It’ll take some work before we’re good enough.”
“Let’s start now.”
Adrienne hesitated. She wasn’t ready for her men, as she thought of them, to go off on their own. “Wade and I haven’t exchanged our presents yet.”
Then she realized that only one package remained beneath the tree, the one she’d wrapped for Wade in the same paper she’d used for Reg’s packages. A sparkly shape behind the tree was only a lump in the tree skirt, not a box.
Reggie noticed, too. “Where’s Daddy’s gift for you?”
Maybe Wade hadn’t bought her anything, she thought, noticing a flush on the man’s cheeks. “Grown-ups sometimes give each other the kind of gifts you can’t wrap,” she said. “Like dinner out.”
“The truth is, I bought your aunt something too small to put under the tree.” It was hard to tell whether he was joking. “How about you go play upstairs with that new game for a few minutes?”
“Why can’t I see it?” his son demanded.
“You can, but she gets to see it first,” Wade said. “In private.”
Reg eyed him sternly. “I expect a full report.”
“It’s a deal.”
Having struck a bargain, the little boy collected an armful of new possessions and hauled them away. That left Adrienne and Wade alone, sitting on the carpet.
They were overdue for a discussion about her inability to have children, yet in a rush of nervousness, she plucked the remaining package from beneath the tree. “I hope you like it.”
He took it with a puzzled expression. “Thanks.”
“It’s okay if you forgot to buy me anything,” she added.
“I didn’t forget.” With that cryptic remark, he slid off the ribbon and tore into the paper.
Hands clenched in her lap, Adrienne watched.
* * *
IT WAS A gorgeous sweater, soft, warm and an unusual shade of blue-gray. Adrienne had chosen this carefully. Pleased, Wade pulled it on, enjoying the warmth. “Thank you. Just what I need.”
“Good.” She sounded breathless.
Although last night h
e’d assumed he knew what to say, his whole body tensed. She’d already rejected him once.
Well, he wasn’t about to let that scare him off. Better get started. Reaching into his pocket, Wade produced a black-velvet jeweler’s box.
Adrienne sucked in her breath sharply. When he placed it in her palm, she let it sit there as if it might explode. Then, pressing her lips together, she pried it open.
A pair of gold earrings set with diamond chips caught the lamplight. “They’re stunning.”
Hurry up before she thinks that’s all there is. “I’m hoping we can find a ring to go with those. The kind with a diamond.”
After a silent moment that stretched far too long, she said, “You don’t mind about not having children?”
Wade longed to reassure her, but he had to answer honestly. “Sure, I’m disappointed. I’d love to have kids with you.”
Adrienne blinked, studying the earrings. “We could hire a surrogate.”
“Either way, I want to marry you, if you’ll have me,” Wade said. “Funny thing—it’s almost a relief that you won’t have to go through a pregnancy.”
“What do you mean?” Her startled gaze met his.
He reached out to touch her shoulder. “In my family relationships seem to be jinxed. Not only were the marriages unhappy, but my grandmother died after she fell down the stairs, and my mother died in a plane crash. I don’t want any harm to come to you, and pregnancies, well, I understand they can get complicated.”
“They’re usually safe,” she responded promptly. “That’s really a concern for you?”
“Protecting you and Reggie is my number-one priority,” Wade said fiercely. “Later we can talk about surrogacy or adoption, but that’s not what matters most. You and Reggie mean everything to me.”
Was she on the verge of tears? And if so, was that good or bad?
Adrienne swallowed. “I’ve always been the strong one, picking up the pieces for everyone else and protecting myself.”
He squelched the impulse to argue. Let her finish.
“The thing is, I’ve discovered I’m stronger with you than on my own.” A tear slid down her cheek.
“Then why are you crying?”
“I’m afraid to say yes.”
“Why?” He kept hoping that he’d start to understand women—Adrienne, specifically—but he wasn’t making much progress.
“I never expected to have my dreams come true.” She ran her hands up his arms, along the soft sweater. “It’s almost too much to ask. Like you said, our families are jinxed.”
“How about I knock over a vase or something?” Wade joked. “To use up the bad luck.”
They both laughed, and then Adrienne scooted across the carpet into his arms. “I guess nobody gets a guarantee.”
“Only that we’ll love each other as long as we both shall live.” Wade had no doubts on that score.
They clung to each other, closeness deepening into a kiss. He’d have liked to carry her upstairs—well, being realistic, to lead her upstairs—and make love, but here came those racing footsteps.
In popped the cute little boy who’d brought them together. “Yay!” he shouted on seeing them cuddling. “You aren’t fighting. Promise you never will, okay?”
“I’m sure we’ll disagree occasionally,” Wade said, adding for Adrienne’s benefit, “Just keeping it real.”
“I tend to be a little grumpy when I’m tired.” Her words were muffled against his sweater.
“But we’ll always fight fair, and we’ll talk things out until we find a solution,” Wade finished. “That’s what husbands and wives do.”
Reggie regarded them with rising excitement. “You guys are getting married?”
“Yes,” Adrienne said.
“I’ve been waiting for that,” Wade murmured against her hair.
“I thought I said it.”
“Not till now.”
“Can I walk you down the aisle, Aunt Addie?” Reggie asked.
“What about me?” Wade pretended to be hurt. “I was going to ask you to be my best man.”
Reg drew himself up proudly. “I’ll walk you both down the aisle.”
What a brilliant idea. “Perfect,” Adrienne said.
“That’s our little boy.” His heart swelling, Wade gathered them both into his arms.
His wife-to-be. His son.
His family.
* * * * *
Watch for more SAFE HARBOR MEDICAL stories from Jacqueline Diamond!
Keep reading for an excerpt from RANCHER AT RISK by Barbara White Daille.
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Chapter One
“I’m sending you to the ranch in New Mexico.”
Nothing like condemning a man without a fair trial.
Somehow Ryan Molloy managed to keep from saying that to the man standing in the barn doorway. What did it matter, anyway? Trial or no trial, he’d already condemned himself. His gut-level response at hearing his boss’s words only piled on the guilt.
“Plan on being there by the end of the week.”
Keeping a stranglehold on the reins in his hand, he nodded.
Over the past few months, Caleb Cantrell had allowed him more than a few chances to pull himself together and get his life back on track. No need for Caleb to voice his thoughts. The fact that he’d made the day trip from New Mexico to Montana said it all.
As if reading his mind, Caleb said, “I don’t reckon I need to state the obvious.”
“That I’ve given you no choice?” Caleb wasn’t giving him one, either. No option of staying on the ranch here in Montana. He could take the offer. Or walk.
Raising no argument, asking no questions, he returned the reins to their peg on the wall, making sure they hung neatly in their appropriate spot. Too bad he hadn’t handled things with such care earlier in the week.
As if in tune with his thoughts again, Caleb said, “What happened with Rod?”
“You haven’t heard?”
“I want to hear it from you.”
He shrugged. “He mouthed off about folks—about the manager—not attending to business around here.”
Caleb frowned. “He didn’t come across that way when we hired him.”
“He was drunker than a skunk the other day,” Ryan admitted.
“He didn’t mention that.”
“Why would he? Doesn’t matter. He was in the right. And I did the unthinkable.” Let months of anger and frustration and plain raw pain get the best of him. He forced his hands to relax by his sides. “I threw a sucker punch at one of my men. And you’re relocating me to the new ranch.” His own actions had led to this, yet the words left a bitter taste against his back teeth.
Caleb nodded. “For the time being. I need someone in Flagman’s Folly, and you could use a change of scenery.”
And a change in attitude.
More words he and the boss didn’t need to have out in the open between them. He heard them loud and all too clear.
He heard them ringing in his ears even now, though that conversation had taken place days ago. Afterward Caleb had hustled off to the airport, but not before Ryan assured him he would see him in a few days.
In the weak morning light of his ranch-house bedroom, Ryan fumbled in his dresser drawers, scooping up the items he would need for a temporary but indefinite stay and shoving them into the duffel bag on the bed.
T-shirts...handkerchiefs...briefs...bandannas... And heck, why not take the Louis L’Amour paperback from the nightstand, too? The slip of paper marking his place in the book had rested between pages eight and nine for only about six months. He just couldn’t seem to focus on the damned story, no matter that over the years he’d read it so many times he had practically memorized every word.
He managed to ignore the dresser top and the picture frame he’d turned facedown a year ago. He could stand beside a rectangle of freshly turned soil, could stare at names and dates on a chiseled stone, but he hadn’t the willpower to look at that photo.
Again he swallowed against the bitterness threatening his molars. Leaving Montana meant walking away from every connection he had to Jan and Billy. It meant running away from the memories, too, the good ones he could barely recall anymore, blotted out by the bad ones he couldn’t forget.
A year since the accident, those memories still filled his days and occasionally woke him in the dead of night. The pity in his friends’ faces had added a few more rips to the torn-up places inside him. And last week, a drunken cowboy’s insults had pushed him to his breaking point.
His throat tightened. Despite the breeze blowing in through the open window beside the bed, sweat dotted his brow. Hands hovering above the duffel bag, he paused. Before he could argue or talk himself out of his action, could brush away or second-guess the thought, he grabbed the picture frame from the dresser and slid it, still facedown, under a pile of shirts in the bag.
The Surprise Holiday Dad Page 20