A couple minutes later, Danny returned with a very round woman holding a half-grown Australian shepherd with worried eyes staring and shaggy legs dangling. Erin’s jaw fell slack as Morgan slid her a glance. “You said you were thinking of getting a dog.”
“Morgan,” she breathed.
“That blue merle on her coat was as close as I could get to bluetick, but the breed’s instincts are good for herding and guarding, both of which you seem to need.”
“That doggie mine, Daddy?”
“That doggie is Mommy’s, Livie.” Mommy’s. He’d said it without thought.
“Well, clear a way,” Cleo from the shelter told them and proceeded through to settle the animal in Erin’s lap. “She had a good home until her companion changed jobs and moved to a city apartment. Broke her heart to let Bella go, but that’s no way for this active breed to live.” Cleo looked into Erin’s eyes. “You’ll love her, won’t you, dear?”
Erin stroked the soft fur as Bella licked her hand. “I already do.”
As the crowd was a little intense for the animal, Erin carried her out to the kitchen. He followed with Livie, who was expressing in her charming way how the doggy was hers and Mommy’s. She’d seemingly transitioned into the term as automatically as he.
Erin set Bella on the floor and filled a bowl with water. He’d contacted Cleo a week ago, describing what he wanted. They’d agreed on Bella since she hadn’t been mistreated, and with Livie that was essential. An animal that knew pain and cruelty could misinterpret a child’s innocent mistakes.
Now when Erin and his little girl went down to the beach or off on walks, there’d be someone keeping watch all the times he couldn’t be there. At five months, according to Cleo, Bella already showed the instincts of her breed. When Livie could stand it no longer, she buried her face in Bella’s side. Bella turned and licked Livie’s cheeks with a dripping muzzle fresh from the water bowl. Yeah. Morgan laughed. This would work.
“I can’t believe you did this.” Erin looked into the sweet, sweet face of the worried young dog, trying to give what comfort she could. “How did you know I thought about getting one?”
“Noelle mentioned you might bring a dog on Thanksgiving.” He shrugged. “Then you didn’t.”
“I checked the shelter, but it was especially for damaged animals, and my situation had the potential for unrest.” As, she had to remind herself, it still did.
He crouched down. “Hey, Bella. Don’t look so worried. You’re going to be just fine with us.” He scrubbed his fingers through the fur behind her ears. Bella grinned.
Watching them, Erin screwed up her courage. “I haven’t given you my gift.”
He looked over his shoulder toward the family room. “We’ll never get our places back.”
“It isn’t under the tree.” She ducked into the music room, where they were staying, took the small package she had just wrapped, and brought it to him. “It’s hard to know what to give the man who can get everything.”
He sat back on his heels. “Somehow I think you’ve managed.”
She chewed her lip as he stood up, untied the ribbon, and untaped the paper. From it, he withdrew the plastic stick with the blue plus sign. She watched the realization dawn. His eyes found hers.
She shrugged a shoulder. “Paris has that effect.”
Letting out a whoop that sent Bella to the corner of the kitchen, he grabbed her so hard she didn’t try to breathe until her feet came back down to the floor.
“Daddy, why you crying?”
“It’s okay, Livie. It’s okay, Bella.” His assurance came hoarsely. “Erin, Erin . . .” He pressed his face to her neck, squeezing her again.
She held him just as hard, only now absorbing her own reality. He kept breathing “I love you” into her hair. She held him laughing and crying until she realized his holler had brought the others. She bent and scooped Livie up as they pressed in, Tara leading the charge.
“What? Tell us.”
Again Morgan held her eyes. “There are no secrets.” He held up the wand.
“You’re pregnant?” Noelle blurted.
Rick laughed. “Nothing like jumping in with both feet.”
Erin turned, worried until she saw Steph had knelt beside the dog, gently stroking and reassuring her. Then she gave herself up to the congratulations.
When they’d all cleared out again, taking Livie and even Bella, Morgan threaded her fingers with his. “How are you?”
“Fine. So far.”
“What made you take the test?”
“After we talked I realized I was late. I only took it this morning so we’d know at almost the same time.” She’d never have hidden it otherwise. “There are sunglasses under the tree, in case it was negative. Livie pulled the earpiece off your Oakley’s.”
Grinning, he rubbed his hand up and down her arm. “Both thoughtful gifts. Thank you.” His eyes creased deeply. “It’s great we were here to share the news. They’ve gone through a lot with me. This . . . this is extraordinary.”
That seemed too little a word for it.
“You know, Erin.” His voice softened. “Something like this, your family should know.”
Tears burned. He had to know how much she wanted to share it, to tell her mother, Pops, her father, even Hannah. She was having a baby. And they didn’t even know about Morgan.
“How can I? They’ll get my number, and if it gets to Hannah it will get to Markham and we’ll start all over again.”
“In a couple days I’ll be taking what you know to William. Once he works the deal, the FBI will step it up on Markham. He’ll have more to worry about than getting back at you.”
She considered that. The phone wasn’t in her name, or even Morgan’s, only his company. And if Markham got it, she could change the number. “If I tell them I’m pregnant, I have to tell them about you.”
“Fine. Just no names.”
She pressed a hand to her heart, fear warring with longing. She couldn’t bring herself to dial her parents. No, if she could tell one person in the world, it had to be Pops. It was Christmas, and hearing his voice would be such a gift. She looked into Morgan’s eyes and said, “Pops can’t stand Markham. He’d never help him find me.”
“Tell him Merry Christmas from me.” He bent and kissed her.
Trembling as much with concern as excitement, she keyed the number. When her grandpa’s voice came on, her chest swelled with tears. “Pops? It’s . . . Quinn.”
“Quinn, darlin’. It’s been so long.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Sorry for time she’d never get back—time that, at ninety-one, her grandfather might have little of. She caught a tear in the corner of her eye. “Pops? I have some news.”
Hannah looked almost pretty. No, Hannah did look pretty in her Christmas dress, with her hair done up and her face aglow.
Standing in the family room of her father’s house, Markham watched her, amazed, as she shared the wonderful news in a buoyant voice with none of the tremulous hesitation. For the first time in her life, she had something worth sharing and shared it proudly. “Markham and I are going to be married.”
“With your permission, sir. I apologize for not asking first, but . . .” He waved a hand at Hannah as though she were explanation enough. He cleared his throat. “Hannah’s faith and devotion humble me.”
With a strange feeling in his stomach, he recognized in Hannah a belief no one else had ever placed in him. Hundreds had been swayed to belief by his act, by his lies, by his cons, but no one had believed in him. Crazily, he imagined himself married to her. Did he have something with her he would never find again?
The minister looked at him with mingled sorrow and joy, probably thinking of how his people had suffered from the loss of their retirement funds, the loss of their great hypothetical riches, the loss of hope. Did he believe, as he’d testified, that Markham Wilder acted in good faith, believing a miracle of abundance would come to those who gave generously from the heart? Or would
he condemn him now?
Markham bowed his head. “I pray you’ll consider my request. I’ve been tempered by trials in the furnace of tribulation and emerged chastened and stripped of all worldly hopes but one. This one I set before you—more, I know, than I deserve.” His gaze slid briefly to Hannah’s tearful face, still amazingly lovely. Why had she never adorned it with joy before?
Thomas Reilly turned to Hannah, his face concerned and tender. “Hannah?”
“Oh yes. I want this.” The tremulous tone returned, but for once it touched him.
Thomas held her aching eyes with wells of kindness in his own as he told her, “Markham may not be embraced by the others, by those who struggle now or are financially ruined. You could be shut out.”
“It was Quinn who did that, Daddy. By her unbelief. Quinn not Markham who brought ruin. Markham paid the price, and he only wants to forgive her, Daddy.”
The minister’s wife came and stood in the doorway between the family room and kitchen. Four years had aged her, and he wondered briefly if it was true, as Hannah said, that Quinn had not been home and had spoken to them only a handful of times in those years. He forced all rage and animosity from himself as he thought of her. Nothing must mar this moment.
“You’re younger than Hannah, Markham,” the minister said. “In fact, I expected it would be Quinn who caught your interest.”
Did he see the effect his words had on his daughter?
“And yet you’ve recognized the purity of Hannah’s spirit,” the man continued. “That speaks to the character I saw in you, the trust I placed in you.” His gaze went soft as cream, landing on Hannah.
The man loved his daughter, but Markham wondered if he understood either of the women he’d fathered.
“Markham, I give you Hannah’s hand and my blessing. I call you son.”
His wife’s eyes closed as she lowered her face, gathered herself, and found a smile for her daughter. Hannah rushed into her arms. “Oh, Mama. It’s the best Christmas ever!”
A loud banging at the door interrupted them. Thomas moved to answer, pulling the door open with surprise. “Da.” The minister’s voice was clipped.
“Merry Christmas, son, Hannah, Gwen.”
Markham held himself stiffly. Seeing him, the old man’s face purpled. Markham returned the scowl. He’d expected no less from the man, but his fury was hot and immediate.
“What’s this?” Corlin Reilly gaped at his son, a storm on his brow. “You’d have this felon here and not your own girl? What’s wrong with you?”
“Not now, Da. As always, your timing is terrible.”
“My timing, is it? Do you know your daughter’s married? She’s having a babe.”
The room fell silent, all but the rushing in Markham’s ears. Hannah shriveled in her mother’s arms. Gwen’s face clouded and shone and clouded again.
Thomas drew himself up. “It does not surprise me that Quinn, named by you, married and conceived—if it was in that order—with neither my knowledge nor my blessing.”
It didn’t surprise, but it saddened the man. Markham saw it come over him like a heavy cloak, bowing his shoulders. Did he love his troublesome daughter, even after what she’d done?
“My . . . other daughter, my Hannah . . .” his voice rasped, “will also be married, and Markham has asked and received my blessing.”
Corlin’s eyes widened. “This . . . is God laughing at me. To blind my son with such piety he lies down with fools and liars.”
For that, the man would die.
“Watch your tongue, Da. You’ll not insult Markham in my home.”
“Markham, is it? Were you born with that name, man? Or is it yet another mask you pull over your true face?” Turning once again on his son, he dug the phone from his pocket. “Call Quinn. Tell her to come home. To bring this husband of hers for your blessing.”
Thomas stood rigidly, his spine a testament to resistance. “My daughter knows where to find me.”
“Aye.” Corlin cocked his head back. “But why would she?” He shoved his phone into his pocket, turned with one last glare, and left.
Standing in the yard while Bella sniffed out the most special spot to relieve herself, Erin almost jumped out of her skin when her phone rang. Her nerves had been live wires since calling Pops, but she exhaled with relief and delight when she saw who was calling. “Merry Christmas, RaeAnne.”
“And to you, Quinn. I couldn’t let the day go by without wishing you a great one. How’s that peach Morgan?”
Erin laughed. “I can’t wait to call him a peach.”
“You sound happy, even happier than last time.”
“Well, I’m in love. And we’re having a baby.”
“Oh . . . my . . . goodness,” RaeAnne screamed. “Congratulations! With my busy job and then John Carter’s taking him away all the time, we never really made that work, but I’m just as happy as can be for you.”
Maybe it was hearing RaeAnne’s voice or something in the words, but Erin suddenly imagined Vera, pregnant, with the love of her life walking out. No wonder the woman never said his name again. No wonder she hid the journal where it would be forgotten and stuffed the locket in a mousehole. That wasn’t crazy, it was just sad.
“Quinn?”
“I’m sorry, I . . .” She cleared the emotion from her voice. “RaeAnne, I’m wondering if we did the right thing, reading the journal, learning who your dad is. I’m not sure Vera wanted that.”
“I’m sure she didn’t.” RaeAnne sobered. “But I’m in this too.” Emotion came thickly through the phone. “You know how many Christmases I spent wondering what my dad would have given me? I even made him presents in school. In case that was the year he’d show up.”
“Oh, RaeAnne.”
“My mother couldn’t keep him in real life, but where I was concerned, she kept him all to herself.”
She hadn’t thought of it that way.
“Maybe he didn’t want me. Or maybe he didn’t have the chance. But all these years later, I still want him. Or the possibility of him.” RaeAnne sniffled. “The truth is, not having him, not understanding what happened between them, is the real reason I don’t have kids. I couldn’t see how to do it right when I didn’t understand what went so wrong.”
Erin closed her eyes, getting it so deeply it hurt. “We’ll do it, then. Just as soon as we can.”
“You’re situation’s still messy?”
“Close to a solution, I pray.”
“Me too, sugar. And, Quinn . . . ? I am so happy for you and Morgan. And the baby. Don’t let anything get in the way.”
“I won’t.” If she could help it.
Disconnecting, she continued to the stable, where Rick had guessed she’d find Noelle. With Bella curiously sniffing everything, she went inside. It smelled sweet with hay and looked as clean and orderly as Rick and Noelle’s, everything in its place, tended and tidy. She felt the wholesomeness and understood how people loved the rural life. Maybe it touched that old desire for a horse of her own, though now she also understood why her father didn’t want to take it on. If only he hadn’t left her afraid.
At one of the end stalls, Noelle ran her hand over a stately horse’s jet-black cheek, talking sweetly, as if she didn’t get enough horse time at home. In the last month, she’d started to show but still stood tall and slender, her hair a silky veil over her shoulders. It slid to the side when she turned her head and smiled. “Lots of excitement this morning.”
Erin smiled back. “I expected Morgan to be happy but hadn’t anticipated quite that enthusiasm.”
Noelle’s eyes warmed. “No one’s crazy for babies like Morgan. Oh!”
“What?”
“Put your hand here.”
Erin pressed her hand on Noelle’s sweater and felt a tiny flick. She drew in her breath. “Was that—”
“It was.” Noelle beamed. “Wait until you feel it from the inside.”
Still astonished by the test results, even though pregnancy happ
ened all the time and was the normal course of things, she couldn’t help feeling that someone living inside her was too weird to think about. “I guess I’ll ease into the whole idea.”
“Hmm.” Noelle’s smile turned knowing. “Hold on to that dream.”
Laughing, she said, “Ludicrous, right?” Thinking of Morgan’s face as the gift sank in, she suspected few things would ever be humdrum. “It almost feels like my own life is just beginning, as though everything before was a strange dream, and now I’m awake.”
“And Morgan’s awake. But his was a nightmare. Thank you for healing him.”
“I only pointed the way. He and God did the work.”
CHAPTER
32
Morgan leaned against the kitchen wall as Rick and his dad disconnected the old range and attempted to install the new. It didn’t require three, and he’d have been little use anyway. He allowed the experts in their fields to perform those tasks. And given the difficulty they were having, he saw no reason to change that policy.
“Have anything to offer?” Hank crooked his head toward him.
“No. Looks like you two have it covered.”
“His mind’s on one thing only,” Rick said.
“Pretty much.” Hours later, it was still sinking in. These two thought it preening, and sure there was a little, but every time he thought of Erin carrying life inside her, it nearly brought him to his knees. Livie was proof enough of that miracle.
It also exponentially increased the stakes. His meeting with the CEO of the Asian company Denise had selected for their next consult wasn’t scheduled for two days. But the guy was in New York the whole week. Maybe they could move it up. And then he’d see William sooner, and resolve Erin’s trouble sooner. He didn’t want his child experiencing her fear and uncertainty, didn’t want Erin bearing anything more than she had to.
Though it was Christmas, he called Denise and, sadly, reached her.
The Breath of Dawn Page 37