The Bride Ran Away (The Calvert Cousins 2)

by Anna Adams

  After her grandmother had agreed to start pulling back by one day a week at the baby farm, Sophie had seen the value of compromise. She was trying to listen to Ian’s concerns.

  He hadn’t trusted the weather after eight days and nights of summer storms, so he planned to meet her at the courthouse after he came back from a supply run to Knoxville with her father. He didn’t want her to drive back up the soggy ridge alone in the dark.

  Dr. Fedderson had warned Sophie not to expect much from this first meeting. He’d heard rumblings during his appointments. Folks who thought a new clinic might bring strangers to town; others who suspected Sophie was at the bottom of the whole discussion, and she couldn’t be trusted to stay.

  He was right. About the third time she took a direct question about her intentions, she began to worry she was making a mistake.

  “The clinic is supposed to help you, Mrs. Cald well.” She scanned the crowd, burying her fist in her aching back. “All of you. And your families. Apart from the fact I wouldn’t start something this important to the community without a commitment to stay, I’ll be contributing part of my savings to this project.” She glanced down. “You can see I have good reason to make sure my savings work for my own family.”

  At that moment, Ian, finally free of any cast, opened the door at the back of the room. Across the sea of bodies, she felt their connection in his warm smile. He took a seat while she fielded more doubts.

  Dr. Fedderson stepped in. “Even if Dr. Calvert— I mean, Ridley—decided to leave, we’d still have the full complement of physicians.”

  “Yes,” Mrs. Caldwell said, “but my daughter visits an OB near Knoxville. The drive takes her forever, but she has a relationship with her doctor. What if she switched to this new office and then Sophie ups and goes again?”

  “I didn’t up and go before, Mrs. Caldwell. I was in college, and then I had a practice.” She glanced at Ian. His rueful grin induced a smile.

  “Look at me when I’m talking to you, Sophie.”

  She met Mrs. Caldwell’s annoyed gaze.

  “You could leave again anytime, and then my girl might be high and dry with a little one on the way.”

  “No.” She nodded at Ian. “My husband and I are making our home here from now on. We want our daughter—or son—to grow up among family and friends. I don’t know how to make you believe me, Mrs. Caldwell. All I can say is that we plan to stay.”

  And that should be good enough. How could she commit more strongly? Beside her, Gran patted her hand.

  “Lucinda, I understand your concern, but I wouldn’t have asked Sophie to join me at The Mom’s Place if I didn’t believe she meant to stay.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve been as reluctant as you, Lucinda, but I’m here tonight to find out if I’m just resistant to change. Give these people a chance.”

  The meeting went on and they eventually covered the buildings they’d considered renting so far, the plans they’d made to share duty at the clinic and the full range of services they’d be able to offer.

  “Won’t you be working here, too, Dr. Calvert?” another woman asked.

  Dr. Fedderson spoke up. “At least consider giving us some time when you stop working at the baby— The Mom’s Place.”

  Greta laughed, and Sophie witnessed her first truly relaxed smile in weeks. “I’ve promised to discuss any future commitments with my husband, but there’s nothing I’d like better.”

  Relief drained Sophie’s last store of energy. She was grateful when talk finally began to dwindle. She lingered after they adjourned to help calm any leftover fears, but she reached for Ian’s hand as he approached her. Without speaking, he massaged the small of her back, finally excusing them both with the not-so-tactful observation that she looked exhausted.

  Outside in the gusting wind she slid her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Did you hear Gran?”

  “You think she and Seth are all better?”

  “I won’t be surprised if she stretches her working hours again because she can’t seem to help herself. But she must be trying.” She rubbed her own back as they walked. “Thanks for meeting me. I’m too tired to drive home.”

  “Let’s start before the rain washes out the roads. I’ve heard we might even be in for a tornado tonight.”

  “You sound worried.”

  He laughed as if he’d never heard of such a possibility. “No, but I haven’t been in a tornado. Have you?”

  “They’ve touched down around here, but not on a house I lived in.”

  “So don’t talk big until you know how you’d react.”

  “Fine.” She lifted his hand and draped his arm around her shoulders. “You’re the toughest guy I know.”

  “You’re just saying that.”

  “Yeah.”

  “But I appreciate it.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Let’s pick up something from the café.”

  She drowsed in the car while Ian ordered and picked up their takeout. When he came back, his hands full of brown bags and delicious smells, she leaned across the console to kiss his cheek.

  He turned and deepened the kiss, smiling with passion in his eyes as she sank back. She studied him, aware of his body, of his wanting her. She’d become a wife over the past few months, and she wasn’t sure when it had finally happened or how.

  She didn’t mind, as long as Ian didn’t try to manage too much of her life. A ride here, a word with her grandmother there. It could be upsetting, but it wasn’t as if she couldn’t warn him to back off.

  While rain drummed on the roof she closed her eyes. “Wake me when we’re home.”

  “Have you considered starting maternity leave?”

  She opened her eyes. “I go along feeling happy and then you say something like that, and I wonder if you realize how having someone try to manage my life alarms me.”

  He smiled, only half-amused. “I wonder how to make you realize you’re responsible for more than yourself from here on.”

  She could have been annoyed without guilt if he’d just sounded angry with her, but his concern was correct. He’d made a lot of effort to be with her. He loved his child. With each day, he was more and more a member of the Calvert clan. A guy deserved combat pay for that endeavor alone.

  She made light of his anxiety, too tired to go deeper. “Carrying a baby who thinks she’s training for the high jump, how can I forget I’m about to be a mom? But I won’t schedule any more after-work meetings till after she’s born.”

  She wasn’t entirely asleep during the rest of the drive. Thunder and wind buffeted the car. Lightning bolted, turning night into brief flashes of day in the dark woods. She braced herself between the console and the door handle as Ian tried to choose the more shallow ruts in their rain-soaked driveway.

  He resisted her attempt to help him carry in their dinner. In the kitchen she set the table while he unpacked the brown bags.

  “We have a message,” he said from his vantage closer to the telephone.

  “I hope it’s no one at the baby farm.”

  “You’ll call Greta if it is.”

  She let that pass. “Could you play it?”

  He hit the button. A man’s voice spoke Ian’s name and waited. Then started again. “It’s me, Adam. I have another job for you. Shouldn’t take you more than a week. Call me, buddy.”

  Sophie turned. “In this one area, I’d like you to take care of me.”

  Ian frowned. This was his sore point. “What do you mean?”

  “Tell him you won’t take any more assignments.”

  He froze in a cessation of all movement. “I can’t do that, Soph.”

  He’d begun to use her father’s pet name for her. She liked it. “You think I don’t take care of myself, but I’m not doing anything dangerous.”

  “I don’t, either.”

  At her incredulous expression, he dared to grin. “I take calculated risks. But it’s my job. I can’t just quit. I’m part of this family—and I contribu
te to our income.”

  He had contributed his fair share, despite working only once since they’d been married. His bank account must be taking quite a hit.

  “Find some other work.” She refused to phrase it in an appeal. He tended to demand, rather than request when he thought her actions didn’t benefit their family. Maybe he’d understand a similar approach.

  Harsh lines drew his mouth tight. “I’ve worked in protection all my adult life. I can’t quit because you’re scared.”

  “I was more than just scared.” Admitting the depth of her fear for him took more courage than leaping in front of a speeding car, herself. “Please don’t make me feel like that again.”

  His expression softened. “We don’t have to talk about it now. Let’s wait until after you have the baby. I’ll turn down anything Adam offers until then, anyway.”

  Putting off this conversation hadn’t helped before. “We have to settle this, Ian. It’s important.”

  “You’re tired and hungry. Your back’s obviously tense, and you feel bad. Let’s drop it for tonight.”

  “I can’t. I somehow persuaded myself all this time while we weren’t discussing your job that you wouldn’t be doing it anymore. Now I need to know.”

  “I can’t quit.” He came around the table, turning her as he pulled her toward him. Apparently assuming an argument made no difference to her addiction to his back rubs, he began to knead the aching muscles. “How about a compromise?”

  “I don’t think you can offer one that will work.” But he knew just where to stroke to ease the pain.

  “I’ve thought about opening an agency of my own. I couldn’t stop taking dangerous assignments right away, but eventually I could hire employees to take those jobs for me.”

  “You make me feel bad for the faceless guys who’d be in harm’s way.”

  “No one takes this work because he’s scared.” The words were glib, but his tone was gentle.

  “And when are you going to hire these people who I hope won’t have spouses and children to put first?”

  “Not now. I can’t afford it yet—and I can’t turn myself into an accountant or something safe enough for you overnight.”

  “I see you’re trying to be patient.” Though the accountant jab felt a bit like a challenge. “But I’m not just thinking of myself.” And the abject fear that had nearly broken her when her grandfather had said Ian was hurt.

  He turned her to face him. “I want to be around to watch my son grow up, too.”

  She stared, mesmerized by the sometimes hard, always expressive face she’d grown to care for without even realizing how vital Ian had become to her.

  She pulled away slightly. She’d survived their affair because she’d known exactly what she’d wanted from the relationship. She hadn’t expected him to stay in continuous touch or bring flowers, or even to explain his time away from her. Needing him now made her feel less in control.

  A sudden gust of wind and rain at the windows gave her an excuse to look away from him. He took her hands.

  “What are you thinking when you look as if you don’t trust me, Sophie?”

  She couldn’t trust herself. Ever since the day her innocent question about her mother’s playmate had destroyed her family, she’d steel-plated her emotions, measuring her involvement with any man to avoid letting him hurt her. Ian had somehow eroded her defenses, but she was the one who’d made herself vulnerable.

  Feeling as if she’d cheated him because she couldn’t quite believe in forever, she gripped his hands. He’d done all he could to prove his commitment. She was the one who kept thinking their marriage might be temporary. He deserved better. “I promise I’m trying to trust you.”

  His laugh was more a breath leavened with bemused acceptance. When he pulled her close, she wrapped tight arms around him.

  “I’ll take what you can give,” he said against her hair.

  She blinked hard to hold back tears. She couldn’t be that generous. She needed to know beyond the shadow of a doubt that she couldn’t lose anything. That she couldn’t lose him.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  IT WAS ONLY LATER, as she lay awake staring at the rain-slashed windows and Ian slept beside her that Sophie realized he’d put off making any promise she could accept about his job.

  Sighing, she eased onto her left side, withholding a groan as the muscles in her back seized up. Maybe Ian was right. Staying out of his work life might be a good character lesson for her. Wanting so much control, feeling a frantic need to stop him from doing something that meant so much to him, disturbed her.

  Even to her, the feeling wasn’t rational.

  Rain buffeted the house. She edged closer to Ian, taking comfort in his warmth. The past week had brought fallen trees and mudslides. She’d missed a morning at work, waiting for the county to chop a fallen tree into small enough pieces to move them off the road.

  “Are you okay?” Ian asked sleepily, his breath hot on her throat.

  “Fine.” She was restless, but she tried to lie quietly so he could sleep. When his breathing became even again, she slid from beneath his arm and crawled out of bed.

  At the window she could hardly make out anything except the branch that scraped lightly at the window. She flexed her back. This pregnancy had already made her a better doctor to her patients. She’d learned a deeper understanding of their aches and pains.

  The baby performed a quick tap dance beneath her ribs, and Sophie smiled, flattening her hand over her tight, rippling skin. The baby had been quieter than usual today. Sophie was ready to hold her daughter in her arms.

  She turned, staring into the black room in the direction of the bed. Sleep didn’t look likely. It was pointless to lie beside Ian trying not to wake him. She felt her way across the room, snatching her robe off the bed as she went.

  In the hall she switched on the light and pulled on her robe, stopping as a Braxton-Hicks contraction crept from her back to her belly, surprisingly strong for false labor. Descending the stairs had become a ponderous process over the past few weeks. She gripped the banister with one hand and pressed her other palm to the wall.

  She turned on a favorite movie in the living room and wallowed on the couch, trying to find a comfortable position. As the wind and rain pounded the house and the power wavered, another Braxton-Hicks caught her breath.

  She traced her stomach with her fingertips. These contractions weren’t supposed to hurt that much. She’d never make light of them again.

  “Are you all right?” Ian, behind her, must have wakened when she’d tried to sneak out of the room.

  She struggled onto her side. In a T-shirt and sweat-pants, he rubbed at his head as if trying to make himself alert.

  “I couldn’t sleep. You don’t have to get up.”

  “I’m serious. Are you okay?”

  His concern and his sleepy mess endeared him to her. “What’s up with you?”

  He finally stopped scrubbing at his hair. “I’m good at my job because I usually notice when things are different. You’ve been different tonight.”

  “Maybe it’s all this rain. A week of storms and struggling over bad roads just to go to work would make anyone tense.”

  He looked dissatisfied. “Okay. You want some coffee?”

  She’d really love some coffee, but she started to say no.

  “I’ll make decaf,” he said.

  “I’ll bear your firstborn child.”

  “Keep it up and I’ll start thinking I want a second-born.”

  “Don’t threaten me, Ian Ridley.” Another Braxton-Hicks hit as he entered the kitchen. Sophie frowned, but this one didn’t seem as intense. She expected that and she sank into the cushions.

  Ian swore from the kitchen as glass rattled on the counter.

  “Did you break it?” she asked.

  “I caught it.” He leaned around the door brandishing the glass carafe. His glance narrowed on her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” That last
contraction, though not as intense—maybe—didn’t seem to be passing off as quickly.

  “Are you sick? Something hurt?” He looked suspicious and a little bit afraid. She laughed. The only person she knew who enjoyed being in charge more than she did was Ian.

  “I can’t get comfortable.” No need to send him into a panic.

  “I’ll get you a pillow and a blanket when I finish here.” He went back to the coffee. “Listen to the wind. Does this happen every year?”

  “Usually tornadoes come in the spring, not August.” She shivered as a new gust rattled window-panes. “I hope we keep the roof.”

  “Sophie, I’ve been thinking we might want to look at buying our own place.”

  It made sense if they were going to make their marriage work. If they were about to become a family. “Yeah,” she said, not sure why she suddenly couldn’t breathe. “Maybe we should.”

  “You don’t like the idea?”

  At least he’d stayed in the kitchen. Lying to his face would have been difficult. “It’s a good idea.” Had she been playing house all this time? The idea of signing a mortgage with Ian carried a terrifying feeling of forever. She’d promised “till death do us part,” and she’d done her best to mean it since he’d come to Bardill’s Ridge, but buying a house with a man…a thirty-year mortgage…

  “You’re reluctant.”

  She hesitated long enough for another contraction to travel from her back to her belly. She glanced at the clock on the mantel.

  “You know,” she said, spacing the words because she wanted him to understand her lack of enthusiasm as well as she could, “my grandparents have always been close. You don’t know how they were before. They argued, but they made up, often with embarrassing zest.” And they were in love. They hadn’t married because it was the right thing to do. They hadn’t agreed to stay together because of a baby.