Patrick's Promise (Cloverleaf #3)

by Gloria Herrmann

  “We can hang out together, if you’d rather,” Amber softly offered. A huge part of her wished that she could bring Dylan along. Maybe he needed another male influence besides her sick father. That poor man had spent the entire week in bed again after a recent trip for more chemo. He was finally able to eat and drink, but he was wasting away in front of her eyes. Amber would give him one thing: he still was as ornery as ever. They all took that as a good sign and kept praying that he would beat this cancer.

  “Mom, it’s fine. I’m just bored,” Dylan complained. “There’s nothing to do here. I really wish we were back in Portland.”

  “I know, sweetie,” Amber tried to soothe him. She missed Portland less and less, but she understood where her son was coming from. He hadn’t had the chance to really make any friends yet. Summers could be long in Birch Valley, especially when you didn’t have anyone your own age to run along with.

  She just wanted to console him as they stretched out on her bed. He was tucked in next to her and was just about as long as her. Which wasn’t saying a lot, she was only a couple inches over five feet, but it was a strange sensation realizing that her child was outgrowing her. Amber rubbed his back, making wide circles, gently lulling him to sleep. She felt almost sad as she realized how much he was growing; his body was getting bigger, he was quickly losing his baby fat, it was now turning into lean muscle. He was in that beginning stage of awkwardness, not quite a man or even a full-fledged teenager, but right at the threshold. No matter how tall or manly he might get, he would always be her baby. She heard him breathing deeply and steadily as sleep finally settled in. She brushed away his hair and kissed his forehead. He would always be her baby.

  ***

  Patrick

  It felt weird, but a good kind of weird. That was the only way Patrick could explain it as they pushed the shopping cart down the narrow aisle, pausing to sneak a kiss when no one was looking, but part of Patrick didn’t care if they were seen. The exhilaration and rush from acting like two teenage kids in love was not lost on either of them.

  Amber looked radiant tonight, wearing a pale yellow sundress with thin straps, exposing her smooth skin, making Patrick itch to touch it. He was dying to get home, but Amber had made this shopping trip to get their dinner fixings a game. They both had been laughing and almost frolicking through the store when they rounded the corner and Patrick stared straight into Maggie’s eyes.

  “Hey Patrick, funny running into you here.” Maggie gave him a hard stare but then turned to greet Amber. “Hi, Amber, how are you?”

  “Great, thanks. How are you doing?” Amber’s chipper response made matters worse in Patrick’s eyes. How was he going to explain this? He watched Maggie eye the contents in their shopping cart, all the makings of a romantic dinner for two.

  “I’m good. I was just running in because I realized we were out of chocolate syrup for our ice cream sundaes.”

  “Well, you can’t have a sundae without chocolate syrup. Did you buy any cherries? Or nuts?” Amber looked up toward the ceiling. “Are you making banana splits? Those sound really good right now.”

  “Nope, I got a couple twin boys at my house right now who hate bananas. Maybe you guys should stop by for a sundae. I have chocolate syrup now,” Maggie said as she held up the brown plastic bottle.

  “Maybe another time, Mags,” Patrick answered before Amber accepted the invitation.

  “Too bad, your loss. Well, I’d better get back home, Michael is probably pulling his hair out by now.” Maggie smiled at Amber. “Amber, we really should get together for coffee or tea sometime.”

  “I’d really like that. Maybe we can drag Rachel along?” Amber asked.

  “Oh, that would be fun. I’ll check in with you next week. Have a great night, guys.” Maggie shot Patrick one last look, which pretty much told him he had a lot of explaining to do.

  After getting the rest of their groceries, Patrick tried to not let the encounter with his sister rattle him. The gears in his head were churning. How was he going to tell Maggie, who ultimately would tell their mother that he was seeing Amber, and that he was starting to really fall for her? Granted, he knew that his mother and sister would be thrilled to hear that he was dating, but for him to have kept it to himself, that’s where he was in trouble.

  ***

  The smells coming from his kitchen were divine, but then again, it was Amber who was cooking. The woman knew her way around a kitchen, and she was magical when it came to blending flavors and creating edible art.

  Patrick wrapped his arms around her waist as she stood in front of the stove, holding a wooden spoon as she delicately stirred some sort of concoction. It was creamy and he assumed it was a sauce, but her concentration and focus on the mixture made him wonder if it were something more. A love potion, perhaps?

  He nuzzled her at the nape of her neck, his lips nipping at her exposed flesh. “Stop, I’m cooking.” He could hear her smile before seeing it on her lips.

  “You weren’t telling me that a little bit ago.”

  “That was then. I need to cook this is food. We need nourishment.”

  Patrick ran his hands along her sides, letting his fingers run down her arms. “We did burn a lot of calories.”

  Amber spun around to face him. “You are a wicked man, you know that, Mr. Patrick O’Brien?”

  “Yeah, but you like me.”

  “A lot.” She reached up and kissed him full on the mouth and then quickly pulled away. “But I have a sauce that needs my attention. Go pour us some more wine.”

  Ah, this woman drove him mad. He couldn’t explain the feelings that he had; they confused him. Their connection was intense, being around one another felt natural and easy, but he couldn’t quite peel away the nagging guilt that seem to cling to him. Beth told him to promise, and he was trying, sort of. This was the first time in four years that he was even able to feel alive.

  ***

  Amber

  Why were they so comfortable together? Why was Patrick so damn sexy and simply adorable as she watched him eat the pasta she had prepared? Why was she finding herself starting to fall in love with him? All these questions and more circulated in her brain.

  Running into his sister had thrown Patrick for a loop; she saw fear in his eyes. Why? She still didn’t quite get why he wanted to shield his life away from his family. Each family member who she had met seemed nice and genuinely sweet. The way Maggie looked at Patrick, she did almost feel bad for him. She knew that Maggie was going to be talking to him soon. Amber realized that Patrick must not have been as honest with Maggie about her watching his sons. She really didn’t like the idea that he felt the need to lie or sneak around to be with her. But she knew Patrick was skittish, so he needed to take small, easy baby steps. She would figure out soon enough how to get him to see that they didn’t need to hide this, whatever this was. She definitely would be taking Maggie up on that offer for coffee.

  The air was starting to cool as they sat out on the deck and finished their meal, sipping the last swallows of wine and listening to the distant croaks of frogs and crickets. The sky had turned a blended mixture of purples, and tiny stars glittered the late evening sky. Amber couldn’t explain how romantic it felt being there with Patrick. The glow from the candlelight was their sole source of light, casting mysterious shadows on Patrick’s face.

  He looked at her, almost lovingly, but there was that deep green, rich-with-desire stare again. It caused the quiet butterflies in her stomach to start flapping wildly. She rose to clear the table of their dishes, and he reached out to grab her hand. He rose off his chair. Silently, he grabbed the dishes and took them to the kitchen. Amber stood there, unsure of what she was supposed to do. She looked back and saw Patrick return. He picked up their glasses with one hand, and with his free hand he took hers and led her inside.

  The lights were dim in the house; he had left on a single lamp on an end table in the living room. The kitchen light was also off, but they maneuvered with wha
t little light was available. He set the glasses on the counter, turned to her and took her head in his hands, bending to reach her mouth. Amber parted her lips, savoring the tenderness of his kiss. He gently moved his hands, letting them roam down to her bare shoulders, stroking her skin. She could feel her body starting to burn, heating up with want. The power this man had over her scared her a little. She didn’t know what to make of this romance, this attraction, this greedy lust. But on the flip side, there was a connection that was growing, anchoring itself. They were forming something. She just wished they could put a label on it. Amber just wanted to know what exactly it was. Her brain was tormenting her with questions, doubt, fears, desire, possibly love.

  Patrick reached for her face, his large hands cradling her head, his eyes staring directly into her. She knew that look that illuminated in his eyes. It was pure, raw need. She silently hoped it would mean more eventually. Baby steps, Amber.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Rachel

  “God, I’m so stressed,” Rachel complained as she thrashed around in the large bed.

  “Stop moving around so much,” Chelsea ordered. She threw a pillow at Rachel.

  Flinging the covers off with more force than necessary, Rachel sat up. “I have so much to do. What was I even thinking? I’m getting married friggin’ tomorrow.”

  “Chill out, you said you weren’t going to stress out. Knock it off,” Chelsea demanded. “What time is it, anyway?” Her voice was groggy and laced with the remnants of sleep. She burrowed further into the comforter, almost completely hidden except a bit of pale blonde hair sticking out.

  “What I said and what I’m going to do are two very different things.”

  Rachel had tossed and turned all night. She had watched Chelsea sleep soundly, and she had been envious and actually had been tempted to “accidentally” kick her or knee her in the back. That made her a terrible friend, but at the moment she had far too much on her plate to really care. Her list for today was incredibly long, and as her brain started jotting down more things, the list kept growing.

  Rachel groaned. “You need to wake up, Chelsea. I’ll start coffee.” She playfully swatted Chelsea’s butt. “Let’s go, get up,” she called as she left the bedroom. Rachel heard Chelsea make some snide comment but chose to ignore it.

  They were seated side by side in the breakfast nook. Rachel had out her notebook that had been filled with the various things that needed to be accomplished by today if this wedding was actually going to happen tomorrow. The most important thing was sitting right in front of them, two jumbo mugs of the strongest and richest coffee she could find in the cupboard.

  “Okay, first thing…” Rachel was about to speak when she heard the phone ring. “Oh, let me go get that.” She was frustrated. She didn’t have time; literally every minute was accounted for.

  Rachel grabbed the phone off the cradle. “Hello?”

  “Good morning, dear.” Mary’s voice was far too perky this early in the morning.

  “Hi, Mary,” Rachel said. She hoped that this conversation didn’t linger too long; there was far too much stuff that needed her attention. As she vaguely heard Mary speaking, her mental checklist was taking over. She needed to stop by the florist, make sure all the outside stuff was set up, paint her toenails, and she still had to wait for Ethan to come over and talk to Liam. They had the rehearsal dinner tonight at Maggie’s house. Oh, the list was almost too much.

  “Rachel, dear, are you there?” Mary asked with slight concern.

  “Yes, I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.” Rachel lied. She hadn’t really hadn’t been listening at all.

  “That’s okay, dear. Not to worry, we’ll come to you.”

  “Come to me?” Rachel asked, but it was too late, Mary had already hung up the phone.

  Chelsea gave her a confused look. “What was that about?”

  “It was Mary. She said not to worry, that they would come to me.”

  Chelsea raised her perfectly plucked brows. “Well, that sounds a little cryptic.”

  ***

  Rachel was downing the last bit of her coffee, savoring the caffeine that she knew would finally kick in. She rubbed her belly and apologized to her babies for her weakness and assured them it was far better than some of the stuff out there. Rachel found herself talking more and more to her belly. Liam was too; he was the first one to actually talk to their babies. But now as they inched closer to their births, Liam and Rachel wanted to start really bonding with these unknown little people inside her.

  Chelsea appeared from the hallway, fresh from a shower, her blonde hair wet and sticking to her. “When is Ethan coming over?”

  “I texted him a little bit ago. He is just hanging out at the motel until afternoon. To be honest, he’s not in a real rush to come over here today,” Rachel said.

  “Well, I’m sure it’ll work out. I mean, there’s not a whole lot that Ethan can say. It’s not like he can force Liam to marry you. That’s already being done. So seriously, how bad can it be?”

  “You’re probably right. I guess I just really want Ethan to like Liam.”

  Rachel could feel anxiety building a thick wall around her chest. She was worried that everything was going to go horribly wrong. Then the doorbell rang. She opened the door to see a smiling Mary and a group of women she recognized all too well: there was Karen, her right-hand woman down at the school; she spied Sue-Ellen, her old neighbor; Janice was standing next to Cheryl; and Maggie was standing in the far back, appearing to be blocking something or someone. They were all carrying gift bags and boxes. Some held onto balloons.

  “Hi, everyone.” Rachel waved. “Please come on in.” This is what Mary had meant—that darn bridal shower.

  “Well, I told you, dear, we’d come to you. You sounded so stressed on the phone. I know your head must spinning with all the last-minute details. Well, after you are well fed and open a few gifts, you might start to feel better.” Mary hugged Rachel. God, how did He make this woman so good and kind? Why couldn’t her mother be like this? That’s when she heard the squeal. Evelyn Montgomery was weaving her way through the tiny sea of people standing on the porch.

  “Well, I made it.” Evelyn was dressed as chic as always, wearing a navy blue, casual, cotton pant suit. Her champagne blonde hair was perfectly styled, and her trademark diamond earrings sent off glittery beams as she moved in the morning sunlight.

  “Mom…” Rachel was in shock. How? When? So many questions, yet when she looked at Mary, she knew the answers to them all.

  Evelyn pulled Rachel into an awkward hug, but Rachel craved her touch. She had missed her mother and was grateful that she was here.

  The women all quickly migrated inside the house. Rachel stood there as Mary put everyone to work. “Okay, ladies, food over here, gifts there.” Mary pointed to where she wanted everything placed.

  Rachel knew right then she didn’t need to worry about her wedding turning out perfectly. Mary O’Brien was proving she was meant to be a wedding planner. She told everyone what was on the schedule for the day as they dined on an array of her homemade muffins that Rachel still hadn’t quite convinced her to start selling.

  “These muffins are amazing,” Chelsea said as she carefully nibbled at the large baked good on her festive party plate.

  Mary nodded and smiled gently at Chelsea. “I may need to teach you how to make them. Well, actually, I think Rachel makes them better than I do.” She winked at Rachel.

  “Well, you were the one that taught me,” Rachel admitted to everyone in the room.

  Mary walked over to where Rachel was seated and bent to hug her. “Dear, I cannot tell you how happy I am that you wanted to learn.” She rose and said to the room, “If she hadn’t, she may have never fallen for my Liam.” Rachel could see the tears developing in Mary’s eyes, which fueled her own to start welling up.

  Mary cleared her throat and took a deep breath before explaining what was next. “So, ladies, as you know, we are here because t
omorrow that beautiful girl will marrying my handsome boy. I want us to help Rachel today. We need to finish getting this property looking like a proper place for a wedding.” Mary paused and walked over to where the gifts had been arranged. “I think we should give Rachel our gifts.”

  Mary and Evelyn carried the gifts to Rachel and tucked them around her legs and feet. The packages were decorated with white bows, some fancy, some fun. The bags all had images of either wedding bells, cakes, doves, or flowers. All of it started to really soak into Rachel’s mind—this was actually happening. She was going to be a bride.

  “You guys really didn’t need to do this.” Rachel blushed as she looked around the room, which was full of women who cared about her. Those darn pregnancy hormones, making her all emotional.

  She held up another gift; this one was from her mother. Evelyn looked thrilled, anticipation in her mocha-colored eyes, as Rachel reached into the small gift bag. She pulled out a large envelope, and when she opened it she saw two tickets. Her mother had just paid for their honeymoon.

  “Mom…wow.” Rachel was stunned as she clutched onto to the envelope.

  “Well, I figure, after this wedding business, you and your new husband need to go on a real honeymoon. Or maybe, think of it as a babymoon. That’s a thing now, right?”

  “Yes, so this will kind of be for both of us. Thanks so much, Mom.” Evelyn smiled warmly at Rachel. This was the nicest her mother had been to her since, well, ever.

  Rachel continued to open gifts. Most were nice little things, but there were a couple of naughty things that made Rachel and Mary blush. All in all, Rachel couldn’t have been happier. She felt well fed, overwhelmingly loved, and believe it or not, not stressed. Mary, the mother of the man she was about to marry, was right, yet again.

  ***