The Rags-To-Riches Wife

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by Metsy Hingle


  So Jack prayed. He prayed as he never had before, pleading with the Almighty to save her, to bring her back to him. And he talked to Lily. He told her how much he loved her, how much he needed her and about the wonderful life they were going to have together with their baby. He told her about all the other babies he wanted to make with her—babies with her red hair and his blue eyes, babies with her compassion and capacity for giving, babies who would be smarter than their father who should have told her about the blackmail note.

  He wasn’t sure how long he talked to her. He knew he talked until his voice grew hoarse. And that he chased both his parents and his sisters out when they came in fussing and panicked and insisting he rest. He knew that Scott never left. That Abby and the other Debs Club members had all come and kept vigil. Finally they had given up on trying to make him leave Lily and had left him alone.

  Holding her hand, he pleaded again, “Please, Lily. Please come back to me. I love you. I need you. Come back.”

  Please, Lily. Please come back to me. I love you. I need you. Come back.

  Lily could hear Jack’s voice. It sounded as though it was coming to her through a tunnel. But it kept growing stronger and stronger.

  Please come back to me. I love you.

  Slowly Lily opened her eyes. She winced because just moving her eyelashes hurt. She touched her head, felt the bump and the bandage above her brow. She felt as if she’d been run over by a truck. And then she remembered. Finding the blackmail note. Driving in the rain and crying. The sound of tires squealing, glass breaking, the crash. And then darkness.

  The baby.

  Her heart skipped a beat. She touched her stomach and could breathe again when she felt the bump in her belly. Then she turned her head and saw Jack. He was seated at the side of her bed with his head down, his shoulders slumped. He had her hand buried somewhere beneath his and from the steady rise and fall of his shoulders, she suspected he was asleep. Gently she eased her hand from beneath his and she stroked his head.

  Slowly he lifted his head. The eyes that looked at her were bloodshot and had dark circles beneath them. He looked as though he hadn’t seen a razor for days and his hair—his usually neatly styled hair—looked as though it had been combed by a rake. But it was the torment in those eyes that broke her heart.

  “The baby?” Even though her mother’s heart told her that the baby was all right, she had to ask anyway. “Is the baby okay?”

  “The baby’s fine.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief. “Am I going to be all right?”

  “Yes. The doctor says you should be fine. It was just the coma that gave us a scare. We didn’t know if…when…you would come out of it.”

  “How long have I been here?”

  “Since last night.”

  “And you’ve been here this whole time?” she asked.

  “Of course. You’re my wife. I love you. There’s no place else I’d rather be than with you.”

  “I heard you talking to me, you know. I would feel myself start to sink and then I would hear your voice telling me to come back, not to leave you, that you loved me.”

  “And I do love you, Lily. I think I have since the first time I saw you at the ball. I was just too stupid and stubborn to realize it until I almost lost you. I’m so sorry,” he told her. “It’s my fault you were in that accident. I should have told you about the blackmail note.”

  “Yes, you should have.” Realizing how close she had come to losing her life and her baby had wiped away the frantic need she’d felt to run away and escape the pain. Facing death had made her recognize how precious life was, how even more precious love was. To try to lock away a piece of her heart out of fear of being hurt was wrong. Not only was she cheating Jack, she was cheating herself. How could she ever expect for Jack or anyone to love her when she was unwilling to allow herself to love him the way she had always wanted to be loved—with her whole heart? And to love with her whole heart meant she needed to trust with her whole heart, too. “Why didn’t you tell me about the note?”

  “It was stupid, really. Someone stuck it in the pocket of my raincoat the day of Bunny Baldwin’s funeral. When I found it, I was furious. I had no intention of being blackmailed and at that point I had no idea you were even pregnant. So I just shoved it in my pocket and forgot about it,” he explained.

  “If you had known I was pregnant then, would it have made a difference?”

  “In my paying blackmail?”

  “Yes.”

  “No. I might have been surprised when I found out you were pregnant, Lily. But I was never ashamed of it and I was never unhappy about it. I knew I wanted the baby and I wanted you.”

  “Then I’m really not the reason you decided not to run for the senate?”

  “Oh, you are the reason. You and our baby. But not because I’m ashamed of you. It’s because I want to spend as much time as I can with you and our children.”

  “Children?” she repeated.

  He smiled. “I’m hoping we’ll have about half a dozen.”

  “Not unless you’re willing to carry half of them.”

  He sobered. “If I could and if I thought it would make up for what I caused to happen to you, I would. I would do anything to make up for that. I’m so sorry, Lily.”

  “It’s not your fault, Jack. I’m the one who jumped to conclusions and put myself and our baby in danger. I should have trusted you.”

  “I want you to,” he told her.

  And she did trust him, Lily admitted. “Do you have any idea who sent you that blackmail note?”

  He shook his head. “I would have said it was Bunny, but she was already dead when the note showed up in my coat pocket.”

  Mention of Bunny reminded her of Abby and Bunny’s missing journals. “Jack, Abby said someone stole her mother’s journals. It’s possible the person who took them wrote the note. You know how Bunny kept everything in her journals.”

  “You’re right. But who?”

  “I don’t know. But I think we need to take that note to the police. Abby’s already asked them to open a new inquest into the cause of Bunny’s death.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Because Abby thinks Bunny might have been murdered and whoever stole her journals may be the one responsible for killing her.”

  “Why would somebody murder Bunny over a bunch of journals?”

  “Maybe it was what was in those journals that they murdered her for. If she knew about us and someone tried to blackmail you, there were probably others.”

  “You’re right,” he told her. “I’ll let Abby know about the letter and that I’m taking it to the police.”

  The door burst open and in came a flock of Cartwrights. “Oh, thank heavens, you’re awake,” Sandra declared as she came rushing over to the bed to hug Lily.

  “Mother, stop squeezing the stuffing out of Lily. Can’t you see she’s been in an accident and is in pain?”

  “I know very well she’s been in an accident, Jack Cartwright. I’m just glad to see the girl is okay.” She looked back at Lily and her voice softened. “Youare okay, aren’t you, Lily dear?”

  “Yes, Sandra. I’m fine. A little banged up, but I’m told I’ll be okay.”

  “You gave us all quite a scare,” John Cartwright told her. “Especially my son. I was about ready to ask the doctor to sedate the boy.”

  Courtney came over to the bed. “When my brother springs you from this place, I’ll come over with my make-up kit and see what we can do to cover those nasty bruises and cuts.”

  “The last thing I think Lily is worried about is her makeup,” Elizabeth informed her younger sister. “When you’re ready to sue the idiot truck driver who hit you, give me a call. You’re family, so I’ll waive my fee.”

  “Since the idiot truck driver she hit works for my trucking company, you’ll need to speak with me,” Scott Falcon told Elizabeth. Then he turned to her and said, “Lily, next time you want to play tag with a semi, pick someone else’
s trucking company.”

  Lily was still laughing when Abby came into the room, followed by Felicity, Emma, Vanessa and Mary. “Hey, I thought we had a sick girl in here,” Abby began. “But it sounds to me like you’re having a party.”

  “If we’re having a party, I would certainly love some ice cream,” Lily announced.

  “I’ll ask the doctor if you can have some,” Elizabeth said.

  “Sure she can have it,” Courtney declared. “I’m going to find her some. She likes butter pecan.”

  “You’re not going to find butter pecan ice cream in a hospital,” Scott said and followed Courtney out.

  Sandra came over and kissed Lily’s cheek. “Well, I’m going to go make you a big pot of soup for when you get home. I’ve got this new recipe for tortilla soup that I’ve been dying to try.”

  Jack rolled his eyes.

  His father grimaced. “I guess I’d better go with her. Maybe I can try to salvage it so that you won’t end up back in the hospital after eating it.”

  “We need to go, too,” Abby announced. “We just wanted to be sure you were okay.”

  After Lily had told them all goodbye, she and Jack were the only ones left.

  He came to her bedside again and took her hand. “There’s something I meant to give to you at our anniversary dinner, but I never got the chance.”

  “I don’t need any more presents, Jack.”

  “This one is different.” He removed a slip of paper from his pocket and handed it to her.

  “What is this?”

  “It’s the name of a woman who claims to have known your mother.”

  Lily stared at the folded slip of paper. “But how?”

  “I hired a detective to try to pick up the trail where your last investigator left off. He finally came up with a name. He’s the man I was meeting last night. That’s why I asked you to drive yourself to the restaurant.”

  “But why? Why did you do this?”

  “Because I love you. Because I know it’s something you’ve been searching for your whole life. I thought…I know how much you want to be a part of a family, to find out who your family is or was. I thought…I thought maybe if you had the answers about your past, then you might be able to put it behind you and trust me, love me. I want you to live with me in the present and build a future with me.”

  Lily stared at the slip of paper that held the answers to her past, the answers she’d searched for her entire life. Then she looked at Jack, the man she loved, the father of her child. She thought about all the people who were in her room tonight, the people who cared about her, worried about her, loved her.

  She tore the sheet of paper in half and let it fall to the floor. “I don’t need to find my family, Jack. I already have. You are my family and wherever you are is home.”

  Don’t miss the next installment of

  SECRET LIVES OF SOCIETY WIVES

  Coming in June 2006!

  Look for

  THE SOON-TO-BE-DISINHERITED WIFE

  by

  Jennifer Greene

  from

  Silhouette Desire.

  You are cordially invited to go inside the

  SECRET LIVES OF SOCIETY WIVES

  Their world is Connecticut high society:

  country clubs, champagne cocktails, charity

  committees. But they are about to discover

  all that glitters is not gold. A scandalous

  diary has fallen into the wrong hands

  and now someone will stop at nothing

  to blackmail the residents of Eastwick. The

  society wives’ secrets are about to be exposed.

  Don’t miss any of the drama.

  THE RAGS-TO-RICHES WIFE

  Metsy Hingle, May 2006

  THE SOON-TO-BE-DISINHERITED WIFE

  Jennifer Greene, June 2006

  THE ONE-WEEK WIFE

  Patricia Kay, July 2006

  THE BOUGHT-AND-PAID-FOR WIFE

  Bronwyn Jameson, August 2006

  THE ONCE-A-MISTRESS WIFE

  Katherine Garbera, September 2006

  THE PART-TIME WIFE

  Maureen Child, October 2006

  SILHOUETTE BOOKS

  ISBN 1-55254-460-5

  THE RAGS-TO-RICHES WIFE

  Copyright © 2006 by Harlequin Books S.A.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and TM are trademarks of Harlequin Books S.A., used under license. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

  Visit Silhouette Books atwww.eHarlequin.com

  About the Author

  Metsy Hingle

  Award-winning, bestselling author Metsy Hingle says writing romance novels seemed a perfect career choice for her since she grew up in one of the world's most romantic cities—New Orleans.

  "I'm a true romantic who believes there's nothing more powerful or empowering than the love between a man and a woman. That's why I enjoy writing about people who face life's challenges and triumph with laughter and love."

  Dubbed byRomantic Times Magazine as"…destined to be a major voice in series romance," Metsy has gone on to make that prediction a reality, with her books frequently appearing on bestseller lists and garnering awards—among them the RWA's prestigious Golden Heart Award and a W.I.S.H. Award fromRomantic Times Magazine .

  She has also been nominated twice byRomantic Times for a Reviewers' Choice Award for Best Silhouette Desire—in 1997 forThe Kidnapped Bride and in 1999 forSecret Agent Dad . In addition, she is also a 1999 nominee for a Career Achievement Award for Series Love and Laughter.

  Known for creating powerful and passionate stories, Metsy's own life reads like the plot of a romance novel—from her early years in an orphanage and foster care to her long, happy marriage to her husband Jim and the rearing of their four children. Her books are always among readers' favorites, and with good reason, claimsNew York Times bestselling author Sandra Brown who says, "Metsy Hingle delivers hot sex, humor, and heart…everything a reader could wish for!"

  As much as Metsy loves being an author, it's her role as wife and mother that she holds most dear. Since turning in her business suits and fast-paced life in the hotel and public relations arena to pursue writing full-time, she admits to sneaking away to spend time in her rose garden or to slipping into the kitchen to cook up Creole dishes for her ever-expanding family—both the two-legged and four-legged variety.

  Metsy resides across the lake from her native New Orleans with her husband Jim, two bossy toy poodles, a tortoiseshell cat and a 16-pound black cat. According to Metsy one of the greatest joys of being an author is hearing from readers. She would love to hear from you.

  Email Metsy at: [email protected]; or write to Metsy at P.O. Box 3224, Covington, LA 70433. Visit Metsy's website:www.metsyhingle.com .

  Coming Next Month

  If you enjoyed the e-book you just read, then you’ll love what we have for you next month!

  ON SALE IN JUNE 2006

  DESTINY’S HAND by Lori Wilde, Harlequin Blaze

  FORBIDDEN FANTASIES (containing DON’T TEMPT ME by Dawn Atkins, TWO HOT! by Cara Summers and CLOSER…by Jo Leigh), Harlequin Blaze

  AFTER HOURS by Karen Kendall (containi
ng MIDNIGHT OIL, MIDNIGHT MADNESS and MIDNIGHT TOUCH), Harlequin Blaze

  DON’T TEMPT ME…by Dawn Atkins, Harlequin Blaze

  TWO HOT! by Cara Summers, Harlequin Blaze

  CLOSER…by Jo Leigh, Harlequin Blaze

  MIDNIGHT OIL by Karen Kendall, Harlequin Blaze

  MIDNIGHT MADNESS by Karen Kendall, Harlequin Blaze

  MIDNIGHT TOUCH by Karen Kendall, Harlequin Blaze

  THE SHEIKH’S DISOBEDIENT BRIDE by Jane Porter, Harlequin Presents

 

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