by Laura Iding
But there was still a gaping hole in her heart, because her family would never be complete without Blake.
She loved him. She’d fallen in love with him a year ago right here in sunny Peru. This was their last night together.
Tomorrow they would drive to Lima, get on a plane and fly home. Her time with Blake was almost over, this time for good. Unless she gave up the idea of having a family, and accepted Blake on his terms.
Indecision gnawed at her. She couldn’t imagine making such a sacrifice.
“Moriah?” Blake was glad he’d found her, having lost track of her after he’d ushered the kids to the bus. He’d been startled to find Moriah wearing the colorful skirt and nearly sheer gauzy blouse of the locals. She was dazzling, her hair softly waving about her shoulders, her white blouse emphasizing the olive tone of her skin. He crossed over to her, as if drawn by an invisible string.
“Hi, Blake.” Moriah smiled at him, then gestured toward the stage where the Marinera folk band began playing a sultry tempo, encouraging the festival crowd to dance. “There’s Rasha and Manuel, dancing on the stage. I bet Rasha’s mother is babysitting for them. Aren’t they wonderful?”
Blake immediately saw what had caught her attention. The women were wearing gauze blouses and bright skirts with gold bracelets lining their arms, and as they danced they enticed their male partners to join them. He recognized Rasha and Manuel in the center of the group.
Their hips moved in sexy rotations, promising unspoken pleasure. The two of them looked as if they were alone on the stage, unaware of anyone but each other. As much as they’d started a family with their new baby daughter, they were obviously a couple in love first and foremost. Blake felt the erotic beat of the music in his own pulse thundering in his ears.
“Rasha is so beautiful. I can’t believe she’s out there, just a couple of weeks after having a baby.”
Blake dragged his gaze back to her. “I think you’re beautiful, Moriah. Although tonight you look more Peruvian than American.”
Self-consciously, she lifted a portion of her skirt. “I couldn’t resist. The dress seems fitting for the evening.”
“Dance with me?” He grasped her hand and pulled her closer.
She hesitated, then willingly flowed into his arms. He buried his face in the lemony scent of her hair, moving slowly and enjoying the sultry beat even as he wished like hell they were someplace alone.
“Mmm. I didn’t realize you were such an incredible dancer,” Moriah whispered.
He wanted to share far more with her than simply dancing, but right now he was more than content to hold her in his arms, to feel the light swish of her skirt against his legs, the firm pressure of her breasts pressed against his chest. His heart swelled with longing.
How on earth could he manage to let her go?
Very simply, he couldn’t.
She pressed her mouth to the pulse in his neck and his thoughts fried in a spark of passion. He wanted her here and now, regardless of all the reasons he shouldn’t. Holding her tight, he angled his head until he could cover her mouth with his, teasing her lips apart and exploring deep.
They could have been the only two people on the entire dance floor for all he cared. He took his time, kissing her thoroughly, until she weakly clung to him, pressing urgently against him, silently asking for more.
He tore his mouth from hers, gasping for breath. “Moriah, please, let me take you back to my room.”
“Yes.” Her simple answer only fueled a new spurt of desire.
Easing away, he scanned the crowd, seeking the path of least resistance, the shortest distance to their hotel. Determined, he set forth, pitying any poor person who managed to get in their way as he navigated through the crush of the crowd.
“A bus accident!” someone shouted in Spanish. A few more local voices chimed in. “A bus crashed into a rock off the road. Just a few miles from here!”
“What did they say?” Moriah stopped cold, grasping his arm in a tight grip. “A bus accident?”
“Yes.” For a nanosecond, he deeply resented the intrusion on these last few hours he had with Moriah, but he knew just as quickly that they needed to go to help. “We’d better see what we can do to help.”
“Oh, my God, Blake. I hope it’s not the bus carrying the kids back to the orphanage.” Her eyes grew as wide as saucers. “Henri and Bonita are on that bus.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
HENRI and Bonita? For a moment, he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Accidents were far more horrible when children were involved. He could easily imagine the twisted metal blocking them in. The thought of those two kids being hurt, or worse, drove him forward. “Let’s go.”
A good portion of the crowd surged in the same direction, so he held fast to Moriah’s hand and quickened his pace. The roads were blocked off for the festival, so there was no way to hail a taxi to take them to the scene.
Moriah was wearing a pair of sexy strappy sandals. She stopped briefly, just long enough to pull them off and carry them, so she could keep up.
Ahead, at a fork in the road, he saw the bus lying on its side. His gut twisted and a red haze blurred his vision when he heard crying and shouting from the injured people inside. He couldn’t tell if they were adults or children, so he began to run.
Not Henri or Bonita. Don’t let anyone be badly hurt, especially not Henri or Bonita.
“It’s blue—just like the orphanage bus,” Moriah gasped between panting breaths.
Lots of the buses here were blue, so he tried not to think the worst. He reached the bus along with several locals. The doorway was blocked, so a couple of men had already climbed the side of the bus to go in through a window.
He did the same thing, making his way to the first open window he could find. It was a tight squeeze, but finally he was in.
A quick glance confirmed there were some adults but mostly children on board.
“Shh, it’s OK, tell me where it hurts.” He stopped at the first crying child to examine the bleeding cut on the boy’s arm, determining it would need stitches. The bruise on his forehead meant a possible head injury, too, but not too bad considering the boy was conscious enough to cry.
“Over here, Blake.” Moriah poked her head through the window he’d crawled through. “We need to start getting these kids out.”
She had a good point. “All right, here you go.” The child was small enough so he could lift him through the window, enough for Moriah to get him the rest of the way out.
He moved on to the next child, subconsciously seeking the familiar faces of Henri and Bonita as he cared for the next injury. Over and over again, he lifted injured children out of the bus.
Soon only the adults were left and they weren’t hurt too badly either, although getting them up through the windows was a more difficult task.
When they had the bus emptied of victims, Blake crawled up through the window into the night. He glanced at Moriah, who gave him a tired smile.
“This is a bus from Chimbote, not the orphanage,” she told him quickly. “No fatalities and mostly minor injuries. Quite a few have been taken to the hospital for treatment.”
His shoulders slumped in relief although he suspected his rapidly beating heart would take a little longer to return to normal. “Thank God. I’m glad it wasn’t worse.”
“Me, too.” Moriah tilted her head curiously. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so upset.”
With a frown he took her arm and began to walk back toward the now sparsely populated festival. “Of course I’m upset at the thought of a potential busload of seriously injured kids. Who wouldn’t be?”
“Do you think we should head over to the hospital, just to make sure they have enough staff on hand to handle the workload?” Moriah asked.
“Not a bad idea,” Blake acknowledged.
There wasn’t a lot of time to talk. But his fear and worry over the kids stayed with him. All too soon they were at the hospital, helping to provide aid as nee
ded to the series of cuts, bruises and broken bones.
But much later, when he returned to his hotel room, he forced himself to admit the truth.
Entering the bus had been difficult, as he’d steeled himself against the possibility of finding an injured Henri or Bonita. He’d always considered kids to be a fair amount of responsibility. But somehow the two kids had wormed their way into his heart, without him even being aware of it.
Spending the day at the festival with Henri and Bonita had shown him they each had their own distinct personalities. They were already adults in the making. And his caring about them wasn’t exactly a choice, but a fact. Pretty much like falling in love with Moriah.
Emotions weren’t ruled by logic. Adults had choices to a certain point, but then emotion took over. He finally understood. Love, the most intense emotion of all, was the main reason parents chose to take on this very overwhelming responsibility of raising kids.
Moriah headed back to her room, having lost Blake in the confusion at the hospital. Luckily, the injuries sustained by those in the bus accident weren’t serious, but just the volume alone had been more than the single ED doctor and two nurses had been able to handle.
When she walked outside, though, to get back to her hotel room, she’d been sad to see the festival was over.
She and Blake had only had time for one dance, although it had been one heck of a dance. Opening the door to her room, she sighed, realizing she missed him already.
Closing the door behind her, she forced herself not to dwell on her sorrow. She needed to pack her clothes. The bus was picking them up at six o’clock sharp for the long ride back to the airport in Lima.
She put the precious adoption paperwork in her carry-on bag for safekeeping. She couldn’t wait to write her first letter to Henri and Bonita.
Single parenthood was daunting—momentarily losing Henri had only confirmed that—but somehow thinking of the two kids only made her smile. She was anxious to learn about how she might go about creating a home for her potential new family.
The children of her heart.
Her stomach clenched painfully. Was she making the right choice? Giving up Blake for the chance of having Henri and Bonita?
She honestly didn’t know. Her legs buckled and she sat down hard on the edge of the bed. Henri and Bonita had each other, and they had a good life. Sister Rita was a wonderful woman. While they didn’t have much in the way of material things, she knew for certain they didn’t lack affection.
Could she give them up?
No. She loved Blake with her whole heart and, no matter what the future held, she’d never regret one moment of loving him. Not even knowing she’d never love anyone else with the same depth and intensity. She’d given him her heart, but she couldn’t give up her plans to adopt Henri and Bonita for him.
She did want to smack his idiotic parents, but that wasn’t an option.
Loving him didn’t change their backgrounds. Families weren’t one of those things you could choose. She certainly hadn’t asked to be born into a family of eight squabbling siblings, neither had Blake asked to be born as an only child to parents who had wanted nothing to do with raising him.
But their parents, good and bad, had made them the people they were today.
For so long she’d assumed Blake was just like Ryan, too much of a player to ever settle down into a committed relationship. But over these past few weeks she’d learned he was nothing like Ryan. Ryan had come from a small family, but his parents had certainly cared for him and his sister. He’d had aunts and uncles and cousins. Ryan had known exactly what a family was all about, but he’d scorned having one anyway. It had been the biggest fight they’d had, and the moment of truth had been when he’d told Moriah their engagement was truly over.
It had taken her a little longer to admit she hadn’t really loved him at all.
Blake, on the other hand, hadn’t been raised in a loving family. His parents had sent him away to childless relatives, an act of abandonment he’d never fully gotten over. Blake didn’t know how to exist in a family environment.
And even if she could convince him to give it a try, there was no guarantee he’d eventually adapt. In fact, she suspected he’d only grow to resent her for it. By his own account, he’d hated every minute he’d spent with her family.
A loud knock on her door startled her from her pensive thoughts. She crossed the room, opened her door and was more than a little surprised to find Blake standing on the other side. “Blake. Come in.”
“Moriah.” He seemed agitated as he entered her room. She closed the door behind him. Did he plan on picking up where they’d left off on the dance floor? As much as she’d wanted to be with him tonight, now that the heat of the moment was gone, she didn’t think she could go back and capture it again.
Not knowing they’d go their separate ways in the morning.
“We need to talk.” Blake’s gaze was serious as he looked at her.
“Now?” She glanced at the time. “At ten o’clock at night?”
“I’m sorry, but tomorrow is going to be hectic and we won’t have any privacy.”
That was the truth. Bracing herself for the worst, to listen as he ended their relationship once and for all, she stepped further back into the room. “All right, then.” She sat on the bed and straightened her flowing skirt, which had several small tears in the fabric as a result of their trek to the bus accident and back. “What’s wrong?”
“I love you.” He thrust a hand into his hair. “Dammit, that’s not what’s wrong. I already told you, I’m falling in love with you. I can’t seem to get my thoughts straight.”
“Sit down, Blake.” She patted the bed beside her. “Let’s try this again.”
He sat. “I love you, Moriah. I’ve loved you for years, but I’ve tried to stay away, especially after you told me how much you wanted a large family, just like yours.”
“Oh, Blake.” She clasped his hand in hers. Before she could respond, he continued.
“I fell in love with you all over again on this mission.” He squeezed her hand. “And I want you to give me a chance.”
A chance? For what? Warily she eyed him. “What do you mean?”
“I want you to marry me. I know I can be a good husband and I think…I hope I can learn how to be a good father, too.”
Hope flared brightly, but she struggled to remain calm and rational. She wanted so badly to believe him, yet she couldn’t quite trust this sudden willingness of his to have a family.
“Blake, having children isn’t like a science experiment. You can’t just try it to see what happens, then decide after a few months it doesn’t work.”
“I know. I’ve told myself the same thing.” Agitated, he stood and began to pace the width of the hotel room. “Do you know what horrible things went through my mind at the scene of the bus accident? Every child’s face I looked at, I hoped and prayed wouldn’t be Henri’s or Bonita’s. And I realized my decision not to have kids was one made with logic, not with emotion. I don’t have any experience with family, but I’ve already begun to care about those kids.”
“But caring about someone is different than having a family.” She was afraid to voice her deepest concern: what if he changed his mind, like Ryan?
He slowly nodded. “I know. And I might need some coaching along the way. Kids don’t come with instruction manuals, do they?”
She laughed. “No.”
His tone turned serious. “I’ve realized something, Moriah. Love is caring about someone and accepting all aspects of them, the good and the bad and everything in between. Including things you might not understand at first.”
She wanted to believe him, she really did. “I don’t want to force you into this, Blake, and I don’t want you to make a mistake. Maybe…maybe we should hold off on this whole adoption thing until you’re sure?”
He stilled. “You’d do that for me?”
“I—Yes, I would.” Now that she’d said the words, she
knew she actually believed them. “I love you, too, Blake. And I’ve also loved you for years. And that means I love all of you, even the part of you that doesn’t want children.”
“You mean, the part of me that used not to want children,” he corrected softly. “I figure it will take a while to get through this adoption process. Maybe we can talk it through while we wait…but I was going to suggest…’ He swallowed. ‘If you thought it would help to speed things up, we could get married right away.”
Moriah slowly rose to her feet, stunned by his offer. “You need to be sure about this, Blake. Remember what you’re getting into. For one thing, the adoption isn’t guaranteed. The Peruvian government might turn us down. And for another—you told me once how my family made you feel claustrophobic. You couldn’t wait to leave.”
Blake grimaced. “I’ll be honest, your family is a group that will take some getting used to. Would you mind starting slow? Maybe this time you could introduce me to just one or two siblings at a time, instead of the whole bunch?”
She laughed. “No, I don’t mind starting slow. I guess my family can be overpowering.”
His expression grew determined. “I want to make you happy, Moriah.”
“And I want the same thing for you, too.” She stepped closer. “Nothing is as important as you, Blake. Something I shouldn’t have lost sight of. Marriage is a huge commitment in and of itself. A couple remains married long after their kids are grown and gone.”
Blake slowly nodded. “Either way, I’m willing to work at this, Moriah, for the rest of my life. Are you?”
Stunned, she nodded. She simply couldn’t think of anything to say, but thankfully he reached out to pull her into his arms and covered her mouth with his so that she didn’t need to answer him at all.
She was more than willing to lose herself in his kiss, but he drew back, looking down at her with a question in his eyes.
“So was that your answer?”
Dazed, she stared at him. “You might need to repeat the question.”