by Susan Crose
She crumpled the note in her hand and shoved it into the pocket of her robe. Her fingers grazed the cold metal of the brass ring he'd won at the fair all those weeks ago and she dropped into one of the old, dilapidated chairs. Why had he returned to Portland?
To settle things with Melinda.
And after that?
Who knows?
Her head fell to her hands, but she tried to think positively. He did love her. He had admitted it over and over again the night before while making love, and again in the note. So why leave? Why take off and abandon her now?
"Serves you right," she muttered, thinking how she'd shanghaied him to this cabin.
She had two options: she could walk into town and call her brother, or trust Parker and wait it out. This time, she decided to give Parker the benefit of the doubt.
To pass the time, she cleaned the house, stacked wood, even started lamb stew simmering on the stove before changing into clean clothes. But at five-thirty, when he hadn't shown up again, she couldn't buoy her deflated spirits. The longer he was away, the more uncertain she was of the words of love he had whispered in the night.
"He'll be back," she told herself, knowing he wouldn't leave her stranded, not even to pay her back for tricking him. Nonetheless, she slipped into her shoes and jacket and walked outside.
The air was cool and as the sun set, fog collected over the waves. A salty breeze caught and tangled in her hair as she threaded her way along an overgrown path to the stairs. Brambles and skeletal berry vines clung to her clothes and dry beach grass rubbed against her jeans before she reached the weathered steps that zigzagged back and forth along the cliff face and eventually led to the beach. She hurried down, her shoes catching on the uneven boards and exposed nails, to the deserted crescent-shaped strip of white sand. Sea gulls cried over the roar of the surf and foamy waves crashed against barnacle-riddled shoals. Far to the north a solitary lighthouse knifed upward, no light shining from its gleaming white tower.
Shawna stuffed her hands in her pockets and walked along the water's edge, eyeing the lavender sky and a few stars winking through tattered wisps of fog. She walked aimlessly, her thoughts as turbulent as the restless waves.
Why hadn't Parker returned? Why? Why? Why?
She kicked at an agate and turned back toward the stairs, her eyes following the ridge. Then she saw him, standing at the top of the cliff, balanced on the weather-beaten stairs. His hair ruffling in the wind, Parker was staring down at her.
He'd come back!
Her heart took flight and she started running along the water's edge. All her doubts were washed away with the tide. He waved, then started down the stairs.
"Parker, no! Wait!" she called, her breath short. The steps were uneven, and because of his leg, she was afraid he might fall. Fear curled over her heart as she saw him stumble and catch himself. "Parker— don't—"
But her words were caught in the wind and drowned by the roar of the sea. Adrenaline spurred her on, her gaze fastened on the stairs. He was slowly inching his way down, his hands gripping the rail, but she was still worried.
Her legs felt like lead as she raced across the dry sand toward the stairs, her heart hammering, slamming against her ribs, as his eyes locked with hers. He grinned and stepped down, only to miss the final sun-bleached stairs.
"No!" she cried, as he scrambled against the rail, swore, then pitched forward. In an awful instant, she watched as he fell onto the sand, his strong outstretched arms breaking his fall. But his jeans caught on a nail, the fabric ripped, and his bad leg wrenched.
He cried out as he landed on the sand.
"Parker!" Shawna flew to his side, dropping to her knees in the sand, touching his face, her hands tracing the familiar line of his jaw as his eyes blinked open.
"You—you were supposed to catch me," he joked, but the lines near his mouth were white with pain.
"And you weren't supposed to fall! Are you all right?" She cradled his head to her breast, her eyes glancing down to his leg.
"Better now," he admitted, still grimacing a little, but his blue gaze tangled in hers.
"Let me see—"
Ignoring his protests, she ripped his pant leg further and probed gently at his knee.
He inhaled swiftly.
"Well, you didn't do it any good, but you'll live," she thought aloud, relieved that nothing seemed to have torn. "But you'll have to have it looked at when we get back." She tossed her hair over her shoulder and glared at him. "That was a stupid move, Harrison—" she said, noticing for the first time a crisp white envelope in the sand. "What's this?"
"The adoption papers," he replied, stretching his leg and grimacing.
"Adoption—?" Her eyes flew to his.
"Melinda's agreed to let me adopt the baby."
"You—?"
"Yep." Forcing himself to a standing position, he steadied himself on the rail as Shawna scanned the legal forms. "It didn't even take much convincing. I agreed to send her to school and take care of the baby. That's all she really wanted."
Shawna eyed him suspiciously and dusted off her hands to stand next to him. "Are you sure you're okay?"
His eyes darkened with the night. "I'm fine, now that everything's worked out. You know the baby isn't really mine. Melinda was Brad's girlfriend. I just couldn't remember the connection for a while."
She couldn't believe her ears. "What triggered your memory?"
"You did," he said affectionately. "You literally jarred me to my senses when you moved out."
Dumbstruck, she felt her mouth open and close— then her eyes glimmered furiously. "That was days ago!"
"I called."
Trying to hold onto her indignation, she placed her hands on her hips. "You could have said something last night!"
"I was busy last night," he said and her heart began to pound. "So, do you want to know what happened?"
"Of course."
"The night of the wedding rehearsal, I drove Brad to Melinda's apartment and they had a knock-down-drag-out about her pregnancy. He didn't want to be tied down to a wife and kid—thought it would interfere with his career." Parker whitened at the memory. "Melinda was so upset she slapped him and he passed out on the couch. That's why I remembered her, because I held her, told her everything would work out, and tried to talk some sense into her. Later, I intended to give Brad the lecture of his life. But," he sighed, "I didn't get the chance."
"So why did she claim the baby was yours?"
"Because she blamed me for Brad's death. It was a scheme she and her father cooked up when they read in the papers that I had amnesia. But she couldn't go through with it."
"Because you remembered."
"No, because she finally realized she had to do what was best for the baby. Nothing else mattered."
"That's a little hard to believe," Shawna whispered.
He shrugged. "I guess the maternal instinct is stronger than either of us suspected. Anyway, I told her I'd help her through school, but I want full custody of the child." His eyes narrowed on the sea and now, as if to shake off the past, he struggled to stand. "It's the least I can do for Brad."
"Be careful," she instructed as she brushed the ±nd from her jeans. She, too, was reeling. Parker was going to be a father!
Wincing a little, he tried his leg, then slung his arm over Shawna's shoulders. "I guess I'll just have to lean on you," he whispered, "if you'll let me."
"You think I wouldn't?"
Shrugging he squeezed her shoulder. "I've been kind of an ass," he admitted.
"That's for sure," she agreed, but she grinned up at him as they walked toward the ocean. "But I can handle you."
"Can you? How about a baby?"
She stopped dead in her tracks. "What are you saying, Parker?" They were at the water's edge, the tide lapping around her feet.
"I'm asking you to marry me, Shawna," he whispered, his gaze delving deep into hers. "I'm asking you to help me raise Brad's baby, as if it were ours, and I'm
begging you to love me for who I am, not the man I was," he said, stripping his soul bare, his eyes dark with conviction.
"But I do—"
"I'm not the same man you planned to marry before," he pointed out, giving her one last door to walk through, though his fingers tightened possessively around her shoulders.
"Of course you are. Don't you know that no matter what happens in our lives, what tragedy strikes, I'll never leave you—and not just out of some sense of duty," she explained, "but because I love you."
She saw the tears gather in his eyes, noticed the quivering of his chin. "You're sure about this?"
"I haven't been chasing you down for weeks, bull-dozing my way into your life just because I thought it was the right thing to do, Parker." "I know, but—"
" 'I know but' nothing. I love you—not some gilded memory!"
"All this time I thought—"
"That's the problem, Parker, you didn't think," she said, poking a finger into his broad chest and grinning.
"Oh how I love you," he said, his arms pulling her swiftly to him, his lips crashing down on hers, his hands twining in the long silky strands of her hair.
The kiss was filled with the wonder and promise of the future and her heart began to beat a wild cadence. "I'll never let you go now," he vowed.
"I don't want to."
"But if you ever decide to leave me," he warned, his eyes drilling into hers. "I'll hunt you down, Shawna, I swear it. And I'll make you love me again."
"You won't have to." She heard the driving beat of his heart over the thrashing sea, saw pulsating desire in his blue eyes, and melted against him. "I'll never leave." She tasted salt from his tears as she kissed him again.
"Good. Then maybe we can exchange this—" Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew the beribboned brass ring.
"Where did you get that?"
"In the cabin, where you were supposed to be."
"But what're you going to do?"
"We don't need this any more." Grinning wickedly, he hurled the ring with its fluttering ribbons out to sea.
"Parker, no!" she cried.
But the ring was airborne, flying into the dusk before settling into the purple water.
"As I was saying, we'll exchange the brass ring for two gold bands."
She watched as pastel ribbons drifted beneath the foaming waves. When he tilted her face upward, her eyes were glistening with tears. Finally, Parker had come home. Nothing separated them.
"Will you marry me, Dr. McGuire?"
"Yes," she whispered, her voice catching as she flung her arms around his neck and pressed her eager lips to his. He loved her and he remembered! Finally, they would be together! "Yes, oh, yes!" Her green eyes shimmered in the deepening shadows, her hands urgent as desire and happiness swept through her.
"Slow down, Shawna," he whispered roughly. But even as he spoke, her weight was dragging them both down to the sea-kissed sand. "We've got the rest of our lives."