Their Miracle Baby (BWWM Romance Book 1)

by Shanade White

  “I was not thinking straight,” Sara told her miserably. “I just bolted without thinking of the consequences and what I was doing to the people I care about.”

  Just then their food arrived and further conversations ceased for a little bit.

  “Is he seeing anyone?” Sara asked casually as she put some of the crunchy delicious salad into her mouth.

  Callie looked at her speculatively, dipping her bread into her beef soup. “You still love him,” she said shrewdly.

  “No,” Sara shook her head furiously.

  “Then why are you asking?”

  “I am just hoping he's found someone; that’s all,” Sara was busy sprinkling salt on her salad and avoiding Callie’s eyes.

  “He was going out with Patrice for a little bit but it's been over for a while now,” Callie told her. “You might have gone for several years Sara but I still know you. You’re still in love with David and for you to be feeling that way about him still, means that he is the one. You will have to find a way of getting back with him.”

  Sara opened her mouth to deny everything the closed it abruptly – she did not know what to say because Callie was right – she was still in love with him.

  “So you’re married to Paul,” Sara commented, changing the subject.

  “Yes, he would not stop asking so I just had to say yes,” Callie told her with a wicked grin. Sara was taken back to when they had been teenagers and Callie had always been the one daring her to try out new things. Callie had always been there for her; encouraging her when her mother had left – she had adopted Callie’s mother and had gone to her when she needed advice. And the woman had died a year ago and she had not even come back home for the funeral. She hated herself for what she did.

  “I am sorry about Mommy Paulette,” Sara murmured ducking her head in shame.

  “She talked about you so much, often praying that you would find your way,” Callie told her soberly. “She never hated you, Sara,” she reached out a hand to close over Sara’s. “She loved you till the end; always saying she had two daughters, not one. And even when I was cussing you out, she always told me you had to have had a very good reason for leaving.”

  “She was always such a beautiful person,” Sara said huskily, the tears threatening. “I often found myself wishing that she had been my mother instead of – you know.” She gave a shrug.

  “You can’t blame yourself for what your mother did Sara, it’s all on her.” Callie said sympathetically. “It’s her loss.”

  “Thanks,” Sara smiled and squeezed the girl’s hand. “You’re your mother’s daughter.”

  Callie smiled at her and they continued eating.

  Sara left soon after, exclaiming in surprise to know that she had gone over the half hour she had told her father and with a quick wave she told the other girl she would call her.

  *****

  Her father was stocking books when she got back. “Dad, why didn’t you leave that for me to do?” she rushed over and took the box from him.

  “I am not an old doddering man that I cannot manage a box of books girl,” he reproached her with a fond smile.

  “I know it’s just that I want to pull my weight around here,” she told him sheepishly. There was only a teenage girl sitting in the corner on the computer, a text book opened in front of her.

  “You are,” he glanced at her shrewdly. “You don’t have to prove anything to me you know Sara. You are my daughter and I have no judgment or opinion as to why you left. I accept you for who you are.”

  “Thanks Dad,” she said huskily, tears clogging her throat.

  “That young man David has some books he wants delivered and I was wondering if you would save an old man the trip and take them over to his place. He writes for the local newspaper and he needs some books to do his work.”

  Sara fought the impulse to shout out no. She could not face him at his place; she didn’t even know where he lived.

  “The address is on the parcel right there,” Her father told her as if reading her thoughts.

  She had to go; there was no getting out of it.

  *****

  She got to the address and sat in her car for several minutes. It was a nice place; as a matter of fact it was more than that – it was beautiful and the garden was rioting with summer flowers, he always did love nature, she thought with a whimsical smile. The house was set back a little from the road and it was a simple one story building with stucco roof. She could see the green house; a large building with glass all around it and she caught a glimpse of him inside.

  Taking a deep breath, she alighted from the car with his package and headed towards the white picket fence. She stood there uncertainly for a while wondering if she should just go on in. The decision was made for her as she saw him come out and stood there staring at her before he beckoned for her to come in. Her heels were not appropriate for the uneven ground and Sara found herself stepping gingerly until she reached him. “Your father called and said you were coming,” he told her. He was in faded jeans and an old T-shirt and there was a smudge of dirt on his cheek. “Come on in,” he told her; heading back inside. Sara gritted her teeth and followed him; she had wanted to just give him the package and leave.

  The interior of the greenhouse took her breath away and Sara found herself breathing in the aroma. There were vegetables of all description and they looked so healthy. “This is nice,” she murmured.

  “Thank you,” he murmured in amusement, his eyes taking in her outfit. “You’re not exactly dressed for this,” he waved a hand at the bags of soil near her.

  “Not exactly,” she agreed.

  “I’m surprised you offered to bring the package to me,” he continued, his eyes quizzical.

  “I did not offer, I was told,” she told him coolly.

  “I see,” he put aside the trowel and turned to face her, leaning against the table filled with seedlings. “Afraid I am going to pick up where we left off?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she avoided his eyes.

  “Yes, that would be ridiculous wouldn’t it?” he walked over to her. Sara forced herself to remain where she was. “You left me and broke my heart in two, so it would be ridiculous of me to want to have anything to do with you. Only a fool would venture where the greatest hurt has been done to him, don’t you think?”

  “David I-“ she hated herself for showing signs of weakness.

  “What are you going to say Sara? You’re sorry? You didn't mean to hurt me? You’re sorry that when you left I could not function for months; no years? Is that what you want to say?” He was too near, she thought in panic, so near that she could smell the fresh dirt and spicy cologne he always used. He was so near that she could feel his breath on her.

  “I need to leave,” she was not breathing properly.

  “So go ahead and leave, I am not holding you,” he still stood in front of her and she could not move. “Do you want to?” he asked her huskily. “Or do you want to know what it feels like again? To feel my lips on yours?”

  “No,” she whispered, her eyes on his mouth.

  “You were pretty before, but now you’re so damned beautiful it hurts the eyes.” He reached up a hand and pushed back a curl that had blown unto her forehead. “When you left I wanted to die; I kept thinking about you being with someone else and I couldn’t bear it, I didn’t sleep and I wanted to come and find you, to convince you we belong together and I would do anything you wanted.” His tone was mesmerizing and Sara found herself trembling. “Your lips always drove me crazy and they still do,” he murmured huskily as he tilted her chin to look into her eyes; eyes that had gone smoky gray with need. “You broke me and I still want you; there must be something wrong with me.” His lips came down as if in slow motion and Sara’s lips parted in anticipation. He took her lips with his; his mouth moving hers slowly; his tongue delving inside her mouth. He tasted of peppermint and candy, an odd combination but he secretly had a sweet tooth and could not resist sweets. She tou
ched him, her hand going to his chest which had hardened with manual labor and she felt his muscles flexing. She whimpered softly and sagged into his arms; wanting more, needing more but with a savage oath he pushed her away from him; combing his hands through his hair.

  “Go,” he told her through gritted teeth.

  “David?” her voice was bewildered as she put a finger to her throbbing lips.

  “Just go Sara, please,” he muttered wearily, his back still turned to her, his shoulders hunched. “I can’t do this, not now.”

  Sara left on shaky legs and when she reached the car she got in and just sat there; her hands on the steering wheel; her heart was still pounding and she could not put the car in drive. She needed time to calm down; time to settle herself before going back to the bookstore. She still felt him; his mouth on hers –he was the only man who could turn her to jelly with just a kiss. He hated her and she couldn't blame him but now she realized with a thud, she would do anything to right the wrong she had done him. He was no longer the sweet David she had known who had allowed her to walk all over him; the David who had told her constantly that he would do anything for her. The David who had told her everything about him.

  She fired up the engine and drove off, her mind in a turmoil; she remembered how excited she had been when she had gotten her first modeling gig and how confident she had been that she was going to make it big and then she had met Michael who had seemed so glamorous and confident with his three piece suit and tie and his fancy apartment and the way he took her out to fancy restaurants. She had been so caught up with the sophistication that she never saw him for who he really was – she had been such a fool. She had left a wonderful life in a small town and the love of a wonderful man to go off and gotten involved in a life, so superficial and meaningless. She parked the car a little distance away from the bookstore, staring at a couple holding hands and crossing the road. The man said something and the girl laughed and hugged him. She'd had that with David and she had not been satisfied and now it was gone from her. Sara felt the tears coming and she did not stop them; until she realized they were pouring down in torrents and her shoulders were shaking with the sobs racking her body.

  Chapter 3

  She barely got through the rest of the week and every time the doorbell sounded, she looked up expecting to see David.

  Sunday came with dark angry clouds and a humidity that defied description. She pretended to be ill when her father asked her about going to church. She knew she was taking the coward’s way out but she could not bear the thought of facing David just yet. And besides, she wanted to be by herself for a little bit.

  “Make sure you get yourself something to eat,” he told her sternly as he brought her some herbal tea and a slice of toast. Sara felt a little guilty as she told him thanks but it was worth it just to have the time to herself to think and to plan. He left shortly after and Sara drank the tea, leaving the bread untouched, sliding the sheet over her; burrowing her head on the pillows. He had kissed her and she had let him; not only that but she had wanted it so badly and had wanted so much more.

  The memories kept flooding back. The time when he had made a picnic lunch for them and they had stolen out after their parents had gone to bed; and he had brought a blanket along and a pillow. She had just turned nineteen and he said he wanted to celebrate with her alone. There had been a huge cypress tree in the nearby park. The night had been cool and he had brought all kinds of sandwiches and a bottle of cheap wine.

  They had eaten their full and had drank the whole bottle of wine and had laid there staring up at the stars, slightly inebriated.

  “I wish we could stay this way for a while,” she murmured as she linked her hand in his.

  “We can,” he told her softly, rolling over to hover over her. “I love you,” he had told her passionately. “And I want to be with you every single day.” He had not waited for her to respond but had bent his head and kissed her; his inexperienced kisses stirring her heart.

  They had fallen asleep and jumped up before dawn; hurrying home before they were missed.

  They had talked about so many things but she had never told him her yearning to become a model; he had always assumed she was satisfied to just stay in the little place where they were born and that they would get married eventually. She had tried to be what everyone wanted her to be but she had wanted to do more, see more and she had but it just had not turned out the way she expected.

  She fell asleep shortly after and it was not until her Dad came home that she realized she had spent almost the entire morning in bed. She hurriedly got up and went to the bathroom to take a shower. She could hear him downstairs hanging up his raincoat and umbrella and she quickly pull on a pair of shorts and an old T-shirt. She was not in the mood for questions right now. He came upstairs just as she was heading down and he stopped halfway.

  “How are you feeling?” the concern was evident in his voice.

  “Not too bad now,” Sara continued down. “I guess I just needed to get some rest.”

  “Good,” he kissed her on the cheek as she made to pass him.

  “How was church?” she asked him

  “Very good, your friend Callie asked after you and of course young David asked if you were okay,” he gave her a questioning look which she ignored.

  “Okay, I’ll just rustle us up some dinner,” she turned to go inside the kitchen. “How do feel about a chicken salad?”

  “Sounds good,” he told her; going upstairs.

  They ate at the kitchen table with her father telling her about the sermon preached at church.

  “Dad may I ask you something?” she asked him as he drank down a glass of root beer.

  “Of course,” he told her, looking at her curiously. He was almost sixty and there were patches of gray in his thick dark hair that he wore very low but apart from that he looked a lot younger.

  “Do you still love her?” she had always wanted to ask him that question but had been so afraid of bringing up the hurt and pain he must still be feeling.

  He put his empty glass carefully on the coaster; careful lest he made a water ring on the lovingly polished mahogany.

  “I will always love her,” he told her quietly, with a sad smile.

  “But why?” Sara cried, shaking her head in bewilderment. “She left you, left us and without a word and has not been back or even being in touch, what’s there to love?”

  “You can’t just turn off love like that Sara, I hope you know that,” he stared at her quizzically. “I loved your mother for a long time and that’s not going to change, no matter what she did. Our Lord Jesus loves us no matter how many times we mess up and nothing we do will ever make Him stop loving us. Caroline left because she could not handle a small town and what it took to be wife to a deacon and the responsibilities it entails. I can’t hate her, my dear because that would mean I never loved her in the first place.”

  That was probably the longest speech she had ever heard from her father and Sara found herself staring at this magnificent man who in spite of his heartbreak and pain had brought her up in the best way possible.

  “I can’t forgive her,” Sara murmured, looking away from him.

  “That’s up to you my dear,” her father reached out and took her hands in his. “But not forgiving her means that you are missing out on life and you’re letting her have power over you. You’re too beautiful; inside and out to live life halfheartedly.”

  “Don’t you hate her just a little bit?” Sara asked pleadingly, holding on to his hands.

  Deacon Williams laughed fondly, squeezing her hands. “Not even a little bit. We both made something wonderful and that’s you by the way and for that I will forever be grateful; everything else pales beside that; I actually feel sorry for her and what she has missed, watching you grow up.”

  “Have you heard from her?” Sara asked him, her eyes lighting up at how proud he was of her.

  “Several years after she left, she called; telling me how
sorry she was and she had met someone and she was planning to get married.” He smiled a little whimsically. “She wanted my forgiveness and the assurance that I would not say anything to you about her to make you hate her.”

  Sara was silent for a spell then she looked at him. “And you never remarry,” she commented.

  “Not because of her but because of you, my dear.” He told her. “I would never allow another woman to try and play mother to you and I was contented to let it just be you and I.”

  “Oh Daddy,” Sara reverted to her childhood name for him and coming around the table, she hugged him tightly. “I love you so much.” She whispered.

  “I love you too, my little girl.” He told her huskily.

  That night when she went to bed, she lay awake thinking about what her father had said to her and how serene and peaceful he was. She had been so angry for so long and she was getting tired of feeling that way – she knew she wanted a change.

  *****

  “My dear you are just the person I wanted to see,” Pastor Phillips greeted her warmly. He had come into the bookstore and she was just about to tell him that her father was on the road. She had gone to church last week Sunday and had not seen David; Callie had told her he had gone to a visiting church to do a performance. She had not seen him in two weeks and to her despair, she found that she wanted to see him so much that she kept looking up whenever the doorbell tinkled; expecting it to be him.

  She waited until he told her what he wanted from her. She had known Pastor Phillips since she was a little girl and had grown to realize that when he wanted something done; he did not ask, he charmingly suggested.

  “I remember you were involved with the youth department and we have a function coming up for next Sunday; some concert or the other,” he waved a hand vaguely. “Brother David has suggested we hold a concert in order to raise some much needed funds for the department. We have young people going back to school and all that and they need the monetary help. He is having a meeting with them tomorrow and we would very much appreciate you being there.” At the name of David, she had stopped listening and she knew she would refuse; but she had never been able to say no to Pastor Phillips; no one ever had and she did not know how to start now.