"She married Amery because she was pregnant with me?"
"Yes," Eileen said. "We … that is Henderson and Claudia and I thought it was best. We were wrong, and we've all lived to regret it."
Morgan's broad shoulders trembled as he tried to keep the tears at bay. They ate away at his insides. They clawed at his throat. They flooded his eyes.
Anne Marie laid her hand on her father's back. "Daddy?"
He turned slowly, looked at his daughter—his and Bethany's little girl—then reached out, grabbed her and pulled her into his arms. He held her with fierce, protective possessiveness.
"Oh, Daddy, she's going to live. God wouldn't take her away from us now. Not now." Sobbing, tears streaming down her face, Anne Marie clung to her father.
"I love her." He swallowed his tears. "And I love you." Tears cascaded down his cheeks, over his nose, into his mouth and off his chin.
Father and daughter held each other, sharing a grief too great to be borne alone.
* * *
Morgan waited outside the intensive care unit, waited to be told when he could see Bethany. Anne Marie and Eileen were with her now. They'd been the first people the doctor had allowed to see her after the surgery.
The doctors had said that, barring any unexpected complications, Bethany would pull through. Her recuperation would take months of slow, often painful rehabilitation. Morgan didn't care how long it took her to recover, he was going to be at her side, taking care of her, loving her, making sure everything in her life was as perfect as he could make it.
Eileen wiped the tears away with her lace handkerchief as she exited the ICU. Seth waited for her with open arms. Anne Marie paused at Morgan's side when she walked out into the waiting room.
"How is she?" he asked. "Will she see me?"
"She looks like hell, but she's still beautiful. And she says she's not in any pain, but I don't believe her." Anne Marie glared at her father. "Will she see you? What do you think?"
"I want to make it up to her," he said. "And to you. I want to be a real father to you."
"You're going to have to work things out with Mama before you and I can straighten out our relationship."
"You're right." He caressed her cheek. "How'd you get so smart so young?"
"I had a good teacher," Anne Marie said. "Mama made sure I learned from all her mistakes."
"Wish me luck with your mother."
"She loves you. What more luck do you need than that?"
Morgan entered the intensive care unit cubicle. His heart lurched to his throat when he saw Bethany, battered and bruised and connected to an endless assortment of tubes and wires.
She looked right at him, and he knew she was waiting for him. He had to choose his words carefully. Everything—his future, Bethany's future and Anne Marie's—depended on how he handled this situation.
"Hello, honey." He stopped at the foot of her bed.
"You look awful," she said. "When's the last time you shaved? Or slept? Or ate?"
Rubbing the stubble on his jaw, he grinned. "Shaving and eating and sleeping didn't seem very important. Not when I didn't know if you were going to live or die."
"They say I'm going to live."
Morgan eased away from the foot of the bed and walked slowly toward her. She held up her hand, lifting the tubes connected to it.
He grasped her hand, clutching her fingers, avoiding putting any pressure on the tubes.
"Anne Marie doesn't hate me," Bethany said. "I was so afraid that—"
"If she should hate anyone, it should be me. I'm the one who deserted you and left you pregnant."
"She doesn't hate you, either."
"You've raised a remarkable child," he said. "Mature beyond her years. I'm not sure I deserve to be her father, but I want to be. If she'll give me the chance. If … if you'll give me the chance."
"What are you saying, Morgan? Are you telling me that you forgive me for keeping you and Anne Marie apart all these years?"
"There's nothing to forgive. As far as I'm concerned, I'm the one who made all the mistakes, and you and Anne Marie are the ones who paid for them."
Bethany squeezed Morgan's hand. "I want you to be a part of our daughter's life. I know it'll take time for both of you to adjust, but if you'll give it a chance…"
"What about us, Beth? What about you and me?"
"What about us?"
"Are you willing to give us a second chance?" he asked.
"For Anne Marie's sake?"
"No, not for Anne Marie's sake. For my sake. Because I don't think I can live without you, honey." He leaned over and brushed her lips with a featherlight kiss. "Marry me, Beth, and I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy."
"Oh, Morgan, there you go making promises again." She smiled weakly.
"Promises that I intend to keep," he vowed. "I love you, Beth. I never knew how much I loved you until I thought I might lose you forever." Tears glistened in Morgan's warm, blue-gray eyes.
"You know that I love you," she said. "I always have and I always will."
"Then marry me as soon as the doctors say you're well enough."
"Yes. Yes, I'll marry you."
Careful not to place any weight on her, he lowered his lips to hers again, his big body hovering, and kissed her tenderly.
Thank You, God, Morgan said silently, his words of appreciation a heartfelt prayer. Thank You for giving us all a second chance. This time I'll cherish the wonderful gift You've given me. I'm man enough now to know the value of love.
* * *
Epilogue
« ^
Dogs barked and children squealed. The sound of galloping paws and running feet echoed through the old Cullman farmhouse. Bethany wiped her hands off on her big, gingham apron and rushed out the kitchen and into the wide hallway.
Pausing by the open door to the study, she looked at her husband, who was bent over the stone fireplace adding another log to the fire. During the ten years of their marriage, she had never once looked at him and not been filled with love. Warm, giving, contented love. Hot, passionate, sexual love.
"Morgan, I think that Anne Marie and James are here," she told him.
Brushing his hands together, he stood up straight and smiled at her. "You think they've come home this weekend to make an announcement, don't you?"
"Let's just say that I know our daughter, and she's been giving me subtle little hints the last few times she called."
"Well, it's about time they made it legal," Morgan said. "They've been living together for the past year."
"Oh, aren't you the old-fashioned father?" Smiling, Bethany motioned for him to hurry up and come on. She knew Morgan hadn't had an easy time letting his daughter grow up into an independent woman. "I think they wanted to wait until James finished law school and went into practice with Maxine, and Anne Marie got her MBA."
Morgan walked out into the hall, clasped Bethany's hand in his, and together they joined their younger children and the two springer spaniels on the front porch.
Given life by the chilly afternoon wind, colorful autumn leaves fluttered from the trees and danced across the yard. The cloudless sky spread out above them like a bright blue canopy. Sunshine warmed the rows of colorful mums and marigolds that lined the walkway.
A sleek, black Ferrari pulled up in the driveway. Morgan squeezed Bethany's hand. She laid her head against the side of his arm. She remembered the day Morgan had given his treasured Ferrari, the car no one else was allowed to drive, to Anne Marie. On her twenty-first birthday.
With the dogs and their baby sister at their heels, eight-year-old twins, Richard and Robert, raced out into the yard, hurrying to Anne Marie's side the moment she emerged from the car. James stepped out from the passenger side and waved at Bethany and Morgan, who waited on the porch. James reached down and swooped up six-year-old Claudia into his arms. She giggled when he tossed her into the air.
Robert tugged on his older sister's hand. "Come on, Anne Marie. Let's go
down to the stables. I want to show you Lady Marian's new colt."
"Yeah, you've got to see him," Richard said.
"A trip to the stables can wait until after lunch," Bethany told her sons.
With a brother on each side of her, Anne Marie rushed up the sidewalk and into her mother's open arms. Bethany shoved Anne Marie away and grabbed her left hand. There on her third finger shimmered a diamond solitaire.
"You knew, didn't you, Mama?"
"I guessed," Bethany admitted.
With little Claudia perched on his hip, James stepped up on the porch, gave Bethany a kiss on the check and shook hands with Morgan.
"So, you're finally making an honest woman out of my daughter?" Morgan said, only half joking.
"Yeah, yeah." Anne Marie leaned over and kissed her father. "People in glass houses, Daddy, shouldn't—"
"So have you set a date?" Bethany quickly changed the subject.
"Next June," Anne Marie said. "I know that since you and Daddy disappointed her and had a small private wedding, Grandmother will want to put on a major production. A big church wedding with a dozen bridesmaids and a country club reception. Something to equal her wedding to Seth."
"Is that what y'all want?" Bethany asked.
"Funny thing is, yes, it's exactly what we want." Anne Marie glanced at James and he at her, and her parents saw the love in their eyes. The same love Bethany and Morgan had shared since the first moment they met over twenty-five years ago. "I wish Nana could be at my wedding. I miss her so much. I can't believe she's been gone five years now."
"She'll be there," Bethany said. "In spirit."
"Mother would be pleased with you," Morgan said. "You're living in her home and carrying on the Morgan traditions."
Anne Marie smiled, then threw her arms around her parents, hugging them fiercely. With tears swimming in her eyes, she said, "I'm so happy."
Morgan enveloped his wife and eldest child in his arms and held them close. As long as he lived, he would never take their lives or their love for granted. He'd come so close to not having them in his life, to losing them forever. Each day with Bethany was a blessing. Each smile on Anne Marie's face a joy to behold.
If any man on the face of the earth knew the true meaning of happiness, Morgan Kane did.
* * * * *
A MAN LIKE MORGAN KANE Page 26