by Nora Roberts
"No, I'll be fine. Thanks."
"We're right downstairs."
In the quiet dark, Stella sighed. She lay still, listening, waiting. But she heard nothing but the sound of
her own breathing.
For tonight—at least for tonight—it was over.
When she closed her eyes, she drifted to sleep.
Dreamlessly.
She expected Logan to come by the nursery the next day. But he didn't. She was certain he would come by the house before dinner. But he didn't.
Nor did he call.
She decided that after the night before he'd needed a break. From her, from the house, from any sort
of drama. How could she blame him?
He'd pounded his hands, his big, hard hands, bloody from trying to get to her boys, then to her. She
knew all she needed to know about him now, about the man she'd grown to love and respect.
Knew enough to trust him with everything that was hers. Loved him enough to wait until he came to her.
And when her children were in bed, and the moon began to rise, his truck rumbled up the drive to
Harper House.
This time she didn't hesitate, but dashed to the door to meet him.
"I'm glad you're here." She threw her arms around him first, held tight when his wrapped around her.
"So glad. We really need to talk."
"Come on out first. I got something in the truck for you."
"Can't it wait?" She eased back. "If we could just sit down and get some things aired out. I'm not sure
I made any sense last night."
"You made plenty of sense." To settle it, he gripped her hand, pulled her outside. "Seeing as after you scared ten years off my life, you said you were going to marry me. Didn't have the opportunity to
follow through on that then, the way things were. I've got something to give you before you start
talking me to death."
"Maybe you don't want to hear that I love you."
"I can take time for that." Grabbing her, he lifted her off her feet and circled them both to the truck.
"You going to organize my life, Red?"
"I'm going to try. Are you going to disorganize mine?"
"No question about it." He lowered her until her lips met his.
"Hell of a storm last night—in every possible sense," she said as she rested her cheek against his.
"It's over now."
"This one is. There'll be others." He took her hands, kissed them, then just looked down at her in the dusky light of the moon.
"I love you, Stella. I'm going to make you happy even when I irritate the living hell out of you. And the boys ... Last night, when I saw her in there with them, when I couldn't get to them—"
"I know." Now she lifted his hands to kiss his raw, swollen knuckles. "One day, when they're older, they'll fully appreciate how lucky they are to have had two such good men for fathers. I know how
lucky I am to love and be loved by two such good men."
"I figured that out when I started falling for you."
"When was that?"
"On the way to Graceland."
"You don't waste time."
"That's when you told me about the dream you'd had."
Her heart fluttered. "The garden. The blue dahlia."
"Then later, when you said you'd had another, told me about it, it just got me thinking. So ..." He
reached into the cab of the truck, took out a small pot with a grafted plant. "I asked Harper if he'd
work on this."
"A dahlia," she whispered. "A blue dahlia."
"He's pretty sure it'll bloom blue when it matures. Kid's got a knack."
Tears burned into her eyes and smeared her voice. "I was going to dig it up, Logan. She kept pushing
me to, and it seemed she was right. It wasn't what I'd put there, wasn't what I'd planned, no matter
how beautiful it was. And when I did, when I dug it up, it died. It was so stupid of me."
"We'll dig this one in instead. We can plant this, you and me, and the four of us can plant a garden
around it. That suit you?"
She lifted her hands, cupped his face. "It suits me."
'That's good, because Harper worked like a mad scientist on it, shooting for a deep, true blue. I guess we'll wait and see what we get when it blooms."
"You're right." She looked up at him. "We'll see what we get."
"He gave me the go-ahead to name it. So it'll be Stella's Dream."
Now her heart swirled into her eyes. "I was wrong about you, Logan. You're perfect after all."
She cradled the pot in her arm as if it were a child, precious and new. Then taking his hand, she linked fingers so they could walk in the moon-drenched garden together.
In the house, in the air perfumed with flowers, another walked. And wept.
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