Love In Bloom

by Karen Rose Smith

He eluded her touch, knowing it would be too painful right now. Swearing, he impatiently ran his hand through his hair. "All time will do is postpone the inevitable. You don't need time. You need a large dose of courage." He hadn't meant to be that harsh, but he didn't want to lose her. He'd lost too much already.

  She took in a breath and her face paled. "That's not fair."

  "It's the truth. And maybe it's time you looked at it. You know what you want. You're afraid to reach out and take it."

  Her shoulders stiffened, and he knew he was pushing her away. But he'd taken risk after risk with her, and now it was time she take one. If she loved him enough, she would. "Do you remember what you said last night?"

  "I said lots of things."

  "In the shower."

  Color came back to her face and her voice lowered. "I don't remember."

  He went on relentlessly, trying to make her see what was evident to him. "I knew you weren't protected and I said we should stop. Your exact words were, 'I don't care. I want this. I want you. Now.'"

  Her hands fluttered against the sheet. "But we were in the middle of something physical. It was just...I..."

  "It was just sex? It was an impulse of the moment? I don't think so. We were making love and that was truth coming out."

  "You think you know me better than I know myself."

  "Maybe I do. Did you ever think that maybe you wanted to get pregnant so the problem would resolve itself? So you wouldn't have to make a decision?"

  She flushed and looked guilty, as if that thought had occurred to her, too.

  And he was angry again, disappointed, and hurt she couldn't love him with the same certainty with which he loved her. "I don't want you that way, Paige. I don't want you by default. My parents and Trish were saddled with me after the accident--the new Clay. It wasn't their choice. I will not spend the rest of my life with someone who can't freely choose to be with me. It has to be a decision, Paige. A conscious, honest decision. And if you're not ready to make it, you should go back to Africa with your mother. That would be best for both of us."

  ****

  Clay flicked off the computer in his office, disgusted with himself. He couldn't concentrate. All he could think about was Paige. He'd issued an ultimatum. He'd closed a door between them. She'd left for the hospital, the climate between them cool and ambivalent.

  What if she did need time and space? He'd made it sound that if she left with her mother, he didn't want to see her again. What if she left, then realized she wanted a life with him? Should he shut off that hope?

  Life had become complicated. But he wouldn't go back. He wouldn't have lived the last six weeks any differently if he could. Maybe Paige needed to see his love didn't have conditions or demands.

  Clay's assistant manager stuck his head into the office. "Someone's here to see you."

  Maybe it was Paige. Maybe she'd made a decision. His heart hammered hard.

  It wasn't Paige standing in front of the cash register. It was his father. "Dad?"

  In the typical three-piece suit, lines creasing his forehead, Vincent Reynolds looked serious enough to announce a stock market crash. Instead, he asked, "Can we talk?"

  Clay motioned to his office. "Sure. Come on in." Once they were inside, he closed the door. "What's up?"

  "It's Trish."

  Clay's heart almost stopped. "What's wrong? Has she been hurt?"

  Vincent put up his hand as if to stop Clay's worry. "No. No. Nothing like that. I, uh, I want her to have a beautiful wedding."

  Clay was perplexed. "So do I. Is there something I can help with? Something you need?"

  Vincent rubbed his hands together absently. "No, nothing material. What she wants is a happy day and I want to give her that."

  Clay still didn't know what his father as getting at. "Of course it will be happy. Why wouldn't it be?"

  "She wants us to...get along."

  Clay finally broke the silence. "And what do you want?"

  His father passed his hand across his forehead. "All these years, I kept believing you'd change, that you'd want to come back to the business, come back to me."

  Clay could hear the pain, the disappointment. But this time more than a career and a partnership were involved. He heard the underlying note of hurt caused by rejection.

  "Dad, you've got to understand that when I decided to start over in Langley, I wasn't running away from you, I was running toward a new life. Can't you see the difference?"

  Vincent studied his son, looking for the truth. "Maybe I can now. I couldn't then. Can you honestly tell me you didn't leave Reisterstown because of me?"

  Honesty. How could he be honest without hurting his father? "I left because I needed to find myself. I was creating problems for you and Mom. Trish was spending too much time with me and didn't have a life of her own. Mom hovered, afraid to let me out of her sight. How could any of us keep going like that?"

  "That's really the way you saw it?"

  "Yes. Plus one more factor. I felt I was constantly disappointing you because I couldn't be the son you knew and loved before the accident."

  Vincent's face expressed his sadness. "I did a poor job of hiding how I felt. How lost I felt. My life had always revolved around you, Clay. After the accident, nothing made sense."

  "And what about now?" Clay asked quietly.

  "I guess I behaved all these years as if I'd lost a son. Can you forgive me for that?"

  "If you can forgive me for needing a fresh start."

  Clay's father didn't hesitate. "Done."

  "Done," Clay repeated, extending his hand.

  His father then did something totally unexpected. He took Clay's hand and gave it a short tug. Clay realized his father needed his love and approval as much as he needed his father's. He hugged Vincent Reynolds for the first time in ten long years. It felt good. It felt right. And the peace that had expanded wider and wider during these past two weeks with Paige seemed to fill him until it overflowed.

  Vincent stepped back and Clay could see his father was clearly embarrassed.

  Clay moved to the office door and said, "You've never really seen the store and repair shop. Would you like to look around?"

  His father smiled. "I'd like that a lot. I might even be persuaded to buy a new mower. If the price is right."

  Clay smiled back. "We'll make it right."

  He took his time with his father, knowing they were planting the seeds for a new relationship. But as soon as Vincent got into his car and drove away, Clay's thoughts returned to Paige.

  He had to see her. He had to reopen the door between them. Clay checked his watch. She should be finished at the hospital.

  Her car was in Doc's driveway. She was nowhere around. Not in the house, not on the deck. He even checked the shed. Then he remembered and decided she would, too. She would head for a haven, someplace special.

  He found her sitting near the tree where they'd made love, a bluet in her hand. She was studying it as if it held all the secrets in the world, the cure for her turmoil. But when she raised her head and saw him, all the turmoil was still there.

  She tried to smile. "I didn't know if I'd ever see you again."

  "Paige..."

  Before he could go to her, before he could sit down beside her, her cell phone beeped.

  Clay swore. Talking would have to wait.

  She heard his frustration, but she said, "I have to answer this."

  "I know." If he understood anything about Paige, it was her dedication.

  She dialed her service. Her face was concerned as she spoke to them, then dialed another number. "It's Miriam. The baby's coming. Her water broke. I have to let her know I'm on my way."

  After Paige talked to Miriam, reassuring her, calming her, she made another call. But no one answered.

  "What's wrong?"

  "It's my nurse. She was going to assist, but I can't get an answer. Even if I leave a message, it might be too late until she gets it."

  "I don't know how much he
lp I'll be, but I can come along if you'd like."

  She nodded. "I'd like that. It's always good to have another pair of hands."

  Before they left, Paige called the hospital to alert them in case there were problems. Clay knew she would take every precaution where Miriam's health and her baby's were concerned. They arrived at Miriam's a short time later. Clay watched the doctor in Paige take over as she became methodical and focused. He knew she'd already talked with Miriam at length about the process of labor and childbirth and had provided supplies they might need--such as a foam wedge to prop on, basins, sterile sheets, antiseptic, gauze pads. While Paige took Miriam's vital signs, Clay put on water to boil to sterilize the instruments in case any were needed.

  When he went to the bedroom where Paige was getting Miriam comfortably settled, Miriam said to Clay, "You two should be a team."

  Paige glanced his way, but he couldn't tell from her expression what she was thinking. Something else was more important right now, Miriam's well-being. He said to her, "I can help Paige, but only if you don't mind."

  A contraction overtook Miriam. She concentrated on the breathing technique Paige had taught her and worked with the contraction. When it had subsided, she said, "Right now, I just want this baby born. Hell's Angels could ride through here and I wouldn't care. So if you can help Dr. Conrad, it's fine with me. Ever seen a baby born before?"

  He smiled. "Not a human. I helped deliver a calf once."

  Miriam laughed. "This can't be that different, right?"

  Paige patted Miriam's arm. "Giving birth is a natural process. We just follow the signals. Are you sure you're comfortable?"

  Propped on the wedge in a half sitting, half reclining position, Miriam answered, "As comfortable as I'm going to get. I'm not too crazy about this hospital gown you brought me."

  Paige smiled. "You can worry about fashion after the baby's born. It will make things easier for me. Clay, while I check the baby's heartrate, can you get Miriam a glass of crushed ice? It's in the freezer door."

  Clay paced the living room as Miriam's contractions came faster and Paige spoke to her about transition and the next stage. It was obvious Paige had prepared Miriam well and she understood exactly what was happening to her. Paige managed and supported, reassuring Miriam all the while. But the pain of labor seemed to be something only two women could share. Unless...

  Unless that was Paige in that bed and his baby being born. Was there a chance for that?

  He needed something to do so he made a pot of coffee. He was pouring himself a cup when Paige called to him to scrub with the antiseptic she'd left in the bathroom.

  The coffee sloshed over the rim as he set down the cup and hurried to get ready.

  He rushed to the bedroom, his hands held in front of him. Paige looked as hot and flushed as Miriam as she peered under the sheet draping Miriam's knees. "The head's crowning. A couple of good pushes and Miriam will have her child in her arms. I'll need you to hand me the washcloth and suction syringe."

  Paige felt Clay's presence beside her, his quiet assurance, his strength. When he'd told her she should go back to Africa for both their sakes, her heart had ripped in two. And all morning as she'd made her rounds, she'd told herself he was right. Her indecision was tearing them apart as effectively as her absence would.

  She loved this man. But would staying in the States, developing a private practice, be enough? When would she know? Could she lose Clay until she worked it through?

  She tried to put her personal life out of her mind as she readied herself for the birth. She looked at Miriam and could see another contraction was ready to hit. "Okay, Miriam. Now I want a giant push. Put all the energy you have left into this one. Take a deep breath. Okay, let's go."

  Miriam's cry mingled with the cry of new life as Paige supported the baby's head and shoulders when he emerged from his mother. Paige had done this before, many times. She had heard a baby's first cry. She had seen the ten miniature fingers. She had felt the perfect softness of a newborn's skin.

  But this time, this time was different.

  Words echoed in her head. "I want this. I want you. Now." And she knew why the decision had been so hard to make. She'd been listening to her head, trying to be logical, trying to reason, trying to weigh and sort. She hadn't been listening to her heart.

  Holding the baby in her arms, holding life in her hands, her love for Clay overwhelmed her and brought tears welling in her eyes. This is what she wanted.

  She wanted to love Clay, share with Clay, live with Clay, have a family with Clay. And somehow everything else would fall into place. Because Clay was that kind of man. Somehow she'd find a balance. Beside him, with him, joined to him.

  As tears ran down her cheeks, she knew she was the one who'd have to risk this time. She'd have to ask Clay if he still wanted her, if he still wanted a life with her. And she'd have to make certain he knew she had no doubts.

  She lifted her head and her gaze met his. The sadness she saw there stabbed her, and suddenly she knew what he was thinking. He believed she was going back to Africa. But this moment wasn't theirs. It was Miriam's.

  Clay handed her a washcloth. She wiped off the baby's face, cleaned out his mouth, and carefully checked the appearance of the newborn. He cried more vigorously.

  Paige wrapped the baby and laid him on his mother's stomach. Miriam gazed at her child with love.

  Clay said, "I'll wait in the living room."

  His voice was strained and Paige wanted to run after him, but she wasn't finished here yet. Just a few more minutes and she could tell Clay everything that was in her heart.

  When the baby lay on Miriam's chest nursing, Paige went to the living room. Clay wasn't there and she panicked. Maybe he'd left, maybe he'd decided...

  She saw movement on the porch and went outside.

  He heard the door but didn't turn around. "Are they all right?"

  "Mother and baby are doing well. I have to call Miriam's neighbor. She's going to stay with her for a few days. But before I do that, I wanted to talk to you."

  Clay's back was rigid, his arms stiff at his sides. "You don't have to say it. I saw it on your face."

  "What did you see?"

  He turned around then. "Your dedication. Your joy. I can't compete with that."

  Suddenly words seemed hard to find. All she could say was, "You don't have to compete."

  "You want to go back. I could see it--"

  "No. That isn't what you saw." She had to do it. She had to do it now. She had to claim the life she wanted. "I want to have your children, Clay."

  He stared at her until the meaning behind her words sunk in. "You want to stay here?"

  "I don't think I can get pregnant long distance. At least not with the method I want to use." She smiled, her heart feeling light and free.

  The seriousness left his eyes and he grinned. "Marriage should come before babies."

  "Is that a proposal?"

  He wound his arms about her and swung her off her feet. "Yes, that's a proposal. And I won't put you down until you give me an answer."

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Yes, I'll marry you."

  He squeezed her tighter. "When?"

  "Tomorrow?"

  He laughed. "We need a few days."

  "Maybe mother will stay."

  He set her on her feet and framed her face with his hands. "You're sure this is what you want? What about your mother's plans? Your dreams?"

  "My dreams have changed. Now you're in them. I'm not sure what I want to do professionally. I've been hearing talk at the hospital about setting up a free clinic in the county for unwed mothers and prenatal care. I might want to get involved in that. I'm not sure. What I am sure about is that I want to stay here and start a life with you."

  The love in Clay's green eyes overwhelmed her. It shook her and filled her with such awe and thankfulness, she couldn't breathe.

  When he spoke, his voice was raspy with the depth of emotion he was feeling. "I
love you."

  She stroked his cheek and tears pricked her eyes. "I love you, too. Do you know where I'd like to get married?"

  He knew immediately. "In the clearing in the woods beside the patches of wild flowers."

  She nodded, because she couldn't speak. There were no more words.

  Clay's lips sought hers with gentle demand yet passionate fervor. The kiss was filled with promises and wild flowers and children and everything beautiful. She was his. And he was hers. Forever.

  EPILOGUE

  Paige stood outside the adobe house, gazing at the rugged mountains. This small Central American country was a tropical land of mountains, volcanoes, green valleys, and natural lakes. But its rapidly growing population had almost exhausted its available supply of farmland.

  That's where Clay came in. He was teaching farmers newer methods of farming and expertise with repairing machinery--old machinery and also new equipment that he'd ordered from generous private donations. Clay had learned a handful of Spanish before their first trip six months after they were married. Now, two years later, he could speak it almost as fluently as she could.

  While Clay worked with the farmers, she healed, for six weeks every six months. That might have to stop now.

  Her senses picked up someone approaching and she swung around. Clay was walking up the hillside, his shirt tied around his waist. His bronze skin shimmered in the last rays of afternoon light.

  She ran to meet him, her heart racing, because just the sight of him thrilled her as it had from the day they'd met.

  He caught her against him and kissed her soundly. Her pulse raced, desire sped through her, and she reveled in their physical and emotional closeness and the life they shared. But that life was about to change.

  Clay ended the kiss and laughed. "I have to wash up before we continue this."

  She ran her hands over his shoulders, inhaling his masculine scent, work and man and sun. "You're fine as you are."

  "Keep touching me like that and I'll be even finer." He studied her face. "I can tell you've been thinking. What's going on?"

  He could read her as easily as she could read him. Yet she'd been hiding something the past few weeks. Their hopes had been dashed a couple of times over the last two years and this time she'd wanted to be sure.