by Diana Palmer
“Don’t worry. I’ll sort it all out somehow,” he said.
She stared at his shirtfront. “Elissa loves you, doesn’t she?”
“I thought she did,” he replied quietly. “Now I’m not sure.”
She looked up again, smiling at him. “I liked her. She isn’t the least bit afraid of you. She bites back.”
He laughed. “Yes. She gives as good as she gets. That’s one of the things I like best about her.” He searched her face. “Do you really want a divorce?”
She sighed. “No,” she said finally. “I love the stupid man to distraction. If only he’d wake up and realize that I never married him for money. I wanted him—I still do—and he’s too busy making money to notice.”
“Then why,” he asked slowly, “don’t you tell him?”
She blinked. “Tell him...that?”
“Of course.”
She shifted restlessly. “Well...”
“Chicken,” he taunted, his dark eyes sparkling.
She burst out laughing. “All right. Why not? Things can’t get any worse, can they?”
He took her arm. “Where there’s life, there’s hope,” he muttered. He was still wondering how to deal with Elissa’s defection. She’d tried to reduce what they did together to something sordid and wrong, and he wished he’d gone about things in a more conventional way. He should have picked her up and carried her off to a minister. Now she was determined not to care about him anymore, was determined to put him out of her life. Did she still think he wanted Bess? How could she be so crazy?
He followed Bess out the door, frowning fiercely. He’d have to give her some time to cool off, to figure out that they couldn’t live without each other, that they needed each other. And knowing Elissa, she’d have to come to those conclusions her own way in her own sweet time.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ELISSA DIDN’T GO home to her parents. She wasn’t quite ready to face them just yet. Instead, she boarded the next flight to Jamaica. Since King was going to be busy with Bess now, it looked like the best time to tie up a few loose ends.
She went to his villa first and got Warchief, then left without a backward glance. She wasn’t ever going to see the villa again. She’d made plans.
Warchief made eyes at her and flapped his wings while she packed. She couldn’t accomplish everything in one day, so she took her time. There were forms to fill out to allow her to take Warchief back to the States, and there was the real-estate agent to see. She was going to put the cottage up for sale. After what had happened, she never wanted to come to Jamaica again.
It was like leaving home, because she’d grown to love it, but she’d have to find someplace else for a second home. Especially since pregnancy was a real possibility. She still hadn’t decided what to tell her parents. She just couldn’t bear telling them the truth.
She stayed in Jamaica for three days. Then, with the necessary forms filled out, she took Warchief to the airport in a sturdy pet carrier and left the island behind. Warchief was the one reminder of the past that she couldn’t bear to give up.
Hours later, she pulled up in front of her parents’ home. Her father was busy in his study, working on his sermon, which he always started on Fridays. Her mother was in the kitchen, and her head jerked up when she saw what Elissa was carrying.
“Oh, no!” Tina wailed. “It’s the green mosquito!”
“Now, now,” Elissa said gently. “He grows on you.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Tina muttered, nibbling her lip and frowning.
Elissa set his carrier on a chair. Warchief took one look at Tina and began to whoop and blaze his eyes and make cute little parrot noises.
“I love you!” he cried. “Cute, you’re cute!” He gave a wolf whistle, and Tina, who’d never seen a parrot except in exotic pet shops, was charmed.
She dropped to her knees and peeked into the carrier. Warchief wolf-whistled again and blazed his eyes, and Tina laughed.
“You gorgeous bird,” she enthused. “I’d love to hug you.”
“I wouldn’t,” Elissa murmured drily. “He gets excited when he’s close to people. You could lose an ear, a nose—”
“I get the idea.” Tina chuckled and rose. “What about his cage?”
“It’s outside, in the car.”
Tina looked out the window. “How did you squeeze it into that subcompact rental?” she asked.
“With great difficulty,” came the reply. “But I did.”
Tina cocked her head and stared at Elissa. “Wait a minute. He was in Jamaica, wasn’t he?” she asked, nodding toward the parrot. “So how is it that he’s with you, when you were in Oklahoma? And where’s Kingston?”
“This is going to be an interesting story,” Elissa said. “So do you mind if I get the things out of the car and change clothes? You can make coffee, and then we’ll talk.”
Tina sighed. “Uh-oh.”
Elissa nodded. “That’s one way of putting it.”
“I’m sorry, darling.”
“It’s just as well I found out now,” Elissa replied, looking and sounding worlds more mature than she had when she’d left. “I might have married him and ended up ruining his life.”
“He asked you to marry him?” Tina asked.
Elissa nodded. “He gave me a ring,” she said, smiling at the memory of the fragile thing. Then she burst into tears. “Oh, Mama, I had to give it back,” she wailed, going into the taller woman’s outstretched arms. “He’s in love with his sister-in-law, and she’s getting a divorce, and he only found out after he’d given me the ring. I had to let him go—don’t you see? He’d have hated me for tying him down!”
Through all that muddled speech one thing was clear: that Elissa loved her man desperately and had given him up for love of him. Mrs. Dean smiled. “There, there, darling,” she cooed, “you did the right thing. Loving isn’t loving unless you have the strength to let go when you have to.”
“I’m so miserable,” she said brokenly. “I went to Jamaica and arranged to sell the cottage and got Warchief. Is it all right if I stay here for a while?”
“Honey, of course,” Tina said, shocked. “Why wouldn’t it be? This is your home.”
Elissa lifted her tear-stained face to her mother’s. She wanted to tell all, but she didn’t know if she could bear to. Her eyes filled with new tears.
Tina Dean brushed the damp hair from her daughter’s eyes. “I think this would be a very good time for you to have a talk with your father,” she said with a smile. “Do you know the old saying that you never really know people until you’re in trouble? Well, you’re about to get an education in human frailty. Come on.”
Elissa puzzled over that on the way to the study, where her father was sitting behind a desk, glaring at a legal pad and frowning.
“Look who’s home,” Tina said brightly, exchanging a pointed look with her husband.
“Hello, my darling.” Her father beamed. “Home for a visit?”
“Maybe to stay awhile,” she said. And then she burst into tears again.
“Uh-oh.” Mr. Dean sighed and glanced at his wife. “Trouble in paradise, I guess?”
Tina nodded. “I thought it might help if you told her about that young minister and the unmarried couple. You know the one?”
He smiled, reminiscing. “Oh, I do indeed. Make some coffee, will you, dear?”
“I’ll do that little thing.” She went out and closed the door.
Mr. Dean came around the desk to hug his daughter and deposit her in an easy chair. He perched himself on the edge of his desk and studied her wan, tear-stained face. And then he smiled warmly.
“Elissa, I want to tell you about a young man I knew, oh, about twenty-five years ago,” he began. “He was a cocky young brute, just twenty-three at the time. He was good with his fists and not very conc
erned with the world or even his own future. He came back from Vietnam half out of his mind on alcohol, and he robbed a grocery store and had the bad fortune to get caught.”
He studied his neatly shined black shoes. “Well, to make a long story short, he went to jail. And while he was there, sure that God and mankind had given up on him, a young visiting minister took an interest in him. Now this young hoodlum,” he added brightly, “had an eye for beauty, and he liked the ladies. And there was a lovely young girl with whom he was deeply in love. They’d gone, as the saying goes, a bit too far of an evening, and she’d gotten into a family way. So there she was, all alone, her lover in jail and a baby on the way.”
He sighed. “The young minister found a capable lawyer to defend the young man. He got him off, since it was a first offense, then proceeded, in turn, to find the young man a job, get him married as quickly as was feasible to the young lady and move them into a small apartment.”
Elissa smiled, her tears drying, sure that the young minister had been her father. “What a nice fellow,” she murmured.
“Yes, I thought so, too.” He sighed, returning the smile. “To finish, the young man was so grateful for what the minister had done that he entered a seminary and undertook to repay the man by carrying on his good work.”
“And the minister, I daresay, was delighted with his handiwork.”
Her father had a sad, faraway look in his eyes. “Well, not exactly. You see, the minister was in a reserve unit, and it was called up for duty in Vietnam. The young hoodlum I mentioned came out of combat without a scratch, but the minister stepped on a land mine the very first day he was in Da Nang.” He sighed, a sound resonant with regret. “He was killed before that young man he’d rescued could get in touch and tell him that he’d decided to take the cloth.”
Elissa felt a chill down her spine. “It was you,” she whispered.
He nodded. “Me and your mother. I was twenty-three, she was twenty.” He leaned over and took her hand, holding it tightly. “And now you know why we’ve sheltered you, don’t you, my girl? How well we understand the passions of youth. All too well, I’m afraid.” He smiled at her gently. “Now tell me all about it, and maybe I can help.”
She burst into tears. In all her life, she’d never been so proud to be his daughter. “I didn’t know,” she whispered.
“Sometimes,” he replied, “we have to fall into a hole to touch the sky. The important thing is to realize that we’re never out of God’s heart, no matter what we do. And very often it isn’t until we hit bottom that we reach out for a helping hand.”
She hugged him warmly and sighed, feeling at peace for the first time in days. “I could use a helping hand.”
“Here’s mine. Lean all you like.”
After she told him what had happened, he took her into the kitchen, where they joined her mother for a cozy supper of cold cuts and iced tea. Not one word of censure was spoken.
Her mother seemed to know it all without a word from her husband. She smiled at Elissa with loving warmth. “Don’t worry,” she said gently. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Elissa cupped her hands around her glass. “I could be pregnant,” she said, putting her most delicate fear into words.
“Does he know?” Tina asked.
“Oh, yes,” she said, looking up. “He made me promise to get in touch with him if that happened. But I can’t see that it would help, to back him into a corner. He loves Bess. I can’t tie him to me for all the wrong reasons.”
“A wise decision,” her father remarked. “But I think you underestimate the gentleman’s feelings. Infatuation dies a natural death without anything to feed it. He’ll get over Bess soon enough—if he’s even still interested in her, that is.”
“But he’s got her now. She’s going to divorce her husband,” Elissa protested.
“Is she?” Mr. Dean looked at her over his glasses and grinned. “Well, we’ll see, won’t we? Eat your ham, darling.”
She glanced from one to the other. “Aren’t you upset?” she began hesitantly.
Tina lifted her thin eyebrows. “About what, dear?”
“The baby, if there is one!”
“I like babies,” Tina said.
“So do I,” her father seconded.
“But it will be...” Elissa hesitated.
“A baby,” Tina finished for her. “Darling, in case it’s escaped your notice, I’ve brought quite a number of unwed mothers into the congregation in years past, and the children have been raised in the church. Little babies aren’t responsible for the circumstances of their birth. They’re just babies, and we love them. Now do eat your ham, Elissa. For all we know you may already be eating for two.”
Elissa sighed. She’d never understand them, but she certainly did love them. “What’s your sermon going to be on?” she asked her father.
He looked at her gently. “On learning to forgive ourselves, after God has. Sometimes he punishes us much less than we punish ourselves, you know.”
She flushed, wondering how he’d learned to read her mind so accurately. “I imagine we’ll all learn from it, then,” she murmured.
He winked at his wife. “Yes, I hope we will,” he replied, and then he concentrated on his meal.
Warchief was back in his cage soon afterward, making enough noise to wake the dead. Elissa carried him into her room, saying a quick good-night before she closed the door.
“Be quiet, or you’ll get us thrown out!” she raged at him.
“Hellllp!” he screamed. “Let me out!”
“Go to sleep,” she muttered, pulling his beak toward her to kiss his green head. He made a parroty sound and wolf-whistled softly. She kissed him again, putting the cover over his cage.
As she slid into bed, minutes later, she wondered how King was and if he was happy now. She hoped he was. She hoped, too, that she wouldn’t be pregnant. Despite the fact that she wanted his child very much, it wouldn’t be fair to tear him between Bess and her own baby. For his own happiness, she had to let him go. She turned her face into the pillow, thanking God for loving parents and the hope of a new beginning.
But hope wasn’t a good enough precaution. Six weeks later, after horrible bouts of morning sickness and fatigue, she went to her family doctor to have the necessary tests. And he confirmed her pregnancy.
She didn’t tell her parents. Despite their support, which she knew she could count on, she had to come to grips with her situation alone. She went downtown to a quiet restaurant and drank coffee for two hours, until she remembered that coffee wasn’t good for pregnant women. She switched to diet drinks and then worried about the additives in them. Tea and coffee and most carbonated drinks had caffeine, herbal tea nauseated her and she hated plain water. Finally she decided that her choices had to be decaffeinated coffee, milk and Perrier. Those should carry her through the next several months.
The thought of the baby was new and delicate, and she sat pondering it through a fog of confusion. Would it be a boy or a girl? Would it have her coloring or King’s? She smiled, thinking about dark eyes in a dark complexion and holding the tiny life in her arms and rocking it on soft summer nights.
The more she considered the future, the more appealing it became. She wouldn’t have King, but she’d have a tiny part of him. Someone to hold and love and be loved by. Maybe that was her compensation for a broken heart. She smiled, overwhelmed by tenderness. She could still work; pregnancy wouldn’t hamper designing clothes. And her parents weren’t going to throw her out in the street, although she worried about the impact her unwed-mother status was going to have on her father’s congregation. She might get a cottage farther up or down the coast to prevent any gossip from harming his career. He’d find it hard to get another job at his age, despite his protests. He loved her, but she loved him, too, and she wasn’t going to be the cause of any grief to her parents. Well,
she’d think about that later.
Right now, the thing was to get back on her feet. She’d grieved so for King that she could hardly function. She had to learn to live with the fact that he wasn’t coming after her. She’d spent the past few weeks gazing hopefully at the telephone and jumping every time it rang. Cars slowing down near the house threw her into a tizzy. She checked the mailbox every day with wide, hopeful eyes.
But there were no phone calls from Oklahoma. No visitors. And no letters. Eventually even her stubborn pride gave up. King finally had Bess, and Elissa was well and truly out of his life. So she began to make plans of her own. She was going to move someplace far away, and she wasn’t going to tell anyone where she was going, not even her parents. She’d write to them, but she’d find one of those forwarding-address places that would confuse the postmarks. Yes, she had to do this on her own. She and the child would grow close over the years, and someday she’d tell him about his father.
That was when she remembered that King didn’t know where his own father was and had always blamed the man for running out on him. She’d decided when Margaret told her about it that one day she’d tell King where his father was and make sure that he got to sit down and talk with him, to hear his side of it. But for now, she didn’t have the right to deny King at least the knowledge of this child. She’d promised.
She went home, resigned to do the right thing, no matter how much it hurt. Bess would be there, surely, whether or not the divorce was final. Maybe they were preparing for the wedding already. She hesitated, but in the end she reached for the phone and called the number King had once given her in case she needed to reach him at the ranch.
Her parents were visiting a sick member of the congregation, so it was a good time to make the call. She didn’t want them to see her go to pieces when she tried to tell King what had happened.
It rang once, twice, three times, four. She was about to hang up when a breathless, familiar voice came over the line.
