by Deb Kastner
“Listen to little Aaron protesting,” he observed with a chuckle.
Delia’s gaze shot to him and she blinked as if coming out of a fog.
“The baby,” Zach clarified. “Why does everyone keep calling him beautiful? Anyone with ears can tell he has an issue with it.”
Delia’s lips screwed up in that cute little expression she had when she was thinking about something. “It seems to me that you’re the one with the problem.”
Zach snorted. “I’m not insecure. I just know I wouldn’t want anyone to consider me beautiful, much less say it out loud.”
She looked at him for a long moment before speaking.
“You are beautiful,” she said in a low, rich tone that wavered a little bit as she spoke. Her gaze met his momentarily, but then she quickly looked away.
He tried to swallow and couldn’t. His heart was so full of yearning that he wanted to wrap her in his arms right now and kiss her senseless—just to show her how much of a man he was.
But given the circumstances, and Delia’s current opinion of their relationship, that would have been the worst thing he could do. So with effort, he restrained himself, although he doubted anyone else in the room would have noticed, as intent as they all were to the new addition to the world.
“Well, now,” he conceded, lengthening his drawl as he pretended to consider her words. “It doesn’t sound quite so bad coming from you.”
Color rose on her face, but she smiled. His heart clenched.
He loved Delia, and if it took his whole life, he would prove he was the man she needed him to be. He hoped that when they were sharing a porch swing in the twilight of their lives, he might still be able to say something to make shades of attractive color splash across her cheeks.
She’d been genuinely pleased by what he said—or at least, he’d thought she’d been. It was a start. And then a moment later the smile dropped from her lips and she turned away. But before she did, he saw the expression on her face and the look in her eye.
She was confused, maybe even disturbed about something.
What had flashed through her mind? Why the sudden change in demeanor?
He reached for her shoulder, intending to turn her around and ask her, but she shrugged him off and darted forward and back into the stream of the family’s celebration.
Zach stayed next to the door, his gaze never leaving her. He would never understand the hot-and-cold nature of women, and Delia in particular, if he lived to be a hundred.
“What do you think of your new baby brother, Lucy?” Delia asked, with what Zach thought was a rather forced grin.
The girl, who was sitting on the edge of the bed on Chance’s side, shrugged detachedly, but Zach could see that her eyes were alight with interest. He suspected Delia could see that as well, if her next actions were anything to go by.
She scooped the baby from Jo’s arms and held him to Lucy, who immediately sprang from the bed and stepped backward, tucking her hands into the back pockets of her blue-jean overalls.
Delia didn’t push her. Rather, she turned so Lucy could see the baby’s face better.
“I think he looks like you.”
Lucy chuckled hesitantly and reached toward Aaron. The baby promptly clamped his little fist onto her finger and thrust it into his mouth.
“Oh,” she exclaimed.
“See?” Delia encouraged. “He likes you already.”
“Well, of course he likes her,” Jo agreed fervently. “He’s her baby brother. He knows which person in this room will give him the real scoop on things.”
Aaron gurgled as if in agreement and everyone laughed.
“I think I’m going to cry,” Phoebe said with a hiccup.
Chance smiled. “Darlin’, you’ve been bawling since the moment this kid was born.”
Phoebe wrinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out at Chance. “You know I can’t help it. I always cry when I’m happy.”
Chance leaned down and kissed his wife affectionately on the forehead. “Then I’m glad to hear you crying, love.”
Zach’s heart lodged itself squarely in his throat. He tried to swallow, but that didn’t work, so he coughed instead.
The only one who seemed to notice was Delia, who turned toward him with her dark eyebrows arched.
“Are you okay?” she queried.
“I—yeah,” Zach said and then hacked some more.
He couldn’t even look her in the eye without wanting to scoop her up into his arms and run for the altar. Never mind that the church was a couple of miles away and that the preacher was no doubt home asleep with his wife.
Did she see how flustered she made him? If she did, she didn’t give him any hint of it. Or maybe she just didn’t care.
“Ben went out front to get the gurney,” he said in a raspy voice. “We need to get Phoebe and Aaron transported to Mercy so they can both be checked out.”
“Of course.” Her gaze flickered with emotion, but Zach couldn’t begin to guess what it was. He’d lost his equilibrium a long time ago, and his own feelings were flaying about like the end of a whip.
Delia looked like she might want to say more, but after a moment, she simply pinched her lips and turned back to the happy scene.
“Time to get mama and baby bundled up and ready to go down to the hospital,” she announced.
Delia swaddled Aaron in an extra receiving blanket and held the baby in her arms. She looked especially beautiful holding the infant.
“Thank you, everyone,” Phoebe said. “I’m actually looking forward to the ambulance ride so I can get a little sleep.”
Jo swished to Phoebe’s bedside and brushed a palm over her forehead. “Zach? Ben? Are you guys ready to go?”
“I’ve got the gurney right here,” Ben called from the hallway.
Zach helped Ben move the gurney into the bedroom and carefully transferred Phoebe and Aaron onto it, pulling up the side rails so the two of them would be safe.
As he backed the rolling bed out of the room so they could maneuver it out of the house, his gaze landed once more on Delia. She was looking out the window. A single tear, glistening in the moonlight, rolled down her cheek. She swiped at it quickly and turned to make sure no one had been watching her.
He pretended to have his full attention on Phoebe and the baby, but he had seen.
Delia hadn’t been crying happy tears.
She had been in agony.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Delia was mortified. She’d gritted her teeth until it hurt, and had clenched her fists until her nails had bit into her flesh, but despite her best efforts, a few tears had escaped from behind her eyes. She’d hurriedly dashed them away with her palms before they could wash down her face and hoped no one had seen.
It was bad enough that she felt this way on what should be the happiest of occasions, but it would be far worse for anyone to witness her momentary breakdown.
Fortunately, in all the excitement, no one had seemed to notice—least of all Zach, who, along with Ben, was busy preparing to transport Phoebe and baby Aaron to the hospital in San Antonio.
Now, as she drove back toward town, she wasn’t so sure she could keep up pretenses any longer. She’d hoped to hold her feelings in check until after she’d returned home, but her raw emotions were pressing through even so.
The last thing she wanted to do was to give her son any reason to worry. He was already upset. He’d been sulking for days, presumably because she and Zach hadn’t rushed to be together as a family after the new year had started.
She’d waited for Riley to raise the topic, just in case she was imagining problems where there were none; but so far, he hadn’t said anything. She supposed his moping around the house and playi
ng video games all day was telling enough. She was going to have to speak to him about it. Maybe in the morning, over a bowl of cereal.
She’d pulled herself together enough to gather her supplies and help Jo and Lucy clean up the bedroom before she left.
She’d never imagined anything could be as difficult as delivering this baby had been tonight—and it wasn’t the complications with the baby’s shoulder that had been so agonizing, either.
The way she and Zach had worked together to bring Aaron into this world safely was hands-down the most memorable moment of her life, with the exception of the night Riley was born. It trumped even the day she’d left Serendipity—and Zach—behind, in the sum of emotion she was now experiencing.
At least back then she’d thought she was doing the right thing. Now she knew without a doubt that practically every single decision she’d made since that moment had been wrong. She’d once imagined herself to have been unfairly drawn into a deep pit that she’d had to scrape and crawl her way to the top of on her own. But it occurred to her that in reality she’d been spiraling downward all this time.
And now?
Now she had hit rock bottom. She’d failed herself. She’d failed Zach. She’d failed Riley. And most of all, she’d failed God.
Why hadn’t she asked for the wise counsel of other, more mature Christians before she’d made such abrupt changes to her life and moved across the country? Why hadn’t she taken the time to find a good church when she’d first arrived in Baltimore?
Why hadn’t she sought out God’s guidance every step of the way?
On her own, she’d managed to make a royal mess of everything. If she’d trusted God more, and had not been so hasty to have given up on Zach, maybe things would have been different. Maybe they would be a real family now, sharing a house together, and adopting a dog or two. Perhaps they would even have had more children by now, little brothers and sisters for Riley to play with and love.
But no.
She’d walked out on Zach when he’d needed her the most. She’d kept Riley’s existence a secret from him, and had likewise kept Riley from knowing his dad. She’d ignored the still, small voice of God and followed a path of her own making.
And look where it had led her.
To a dark alley, alone, in the middle of the night.
Okay, so she was exaggerating just a little bit. She’d actually pulled in behind Cup o’ Jo so she could toss the used linens in the trash. Even in the dark, Delia felt safe. This was Serendipity—her home.
But she did feel very much alone.
She popped the trunk of her car and scooped up the pile of delivery sheets, which were all rolled together in a lump. Using her shoulder to hold open the lid of the Dumpster, she attempted to maneuver the large bundle into the trash, but the metal lid was too heavy for her and she had to drop the sheets at her feet.
She tried to flip back the top of the Dumpster with both hands, but something inside was catching and causing it to come crashing back down again.
With a frustrated cry, she tried one more time. Again, the lid slammed closed on her, this time scraping her elbow.
It wasn’t a mortal wound. It was hardly a scratch, more annoying than painful. But it was the last straw for Delia. Like a precious vase being violently smashed to the ground, all the emotions she’d barely been keeping at bay exploded into a million razor-sharp shards in her chest.
Stifling a sob, she slid down the side of the Dumpster until her knees met the cold ground. She curled forward and pressed her palms to her eyes, rocking backward and forward as grief ruptured within her. She cried for all that could have been, and for all she should have done.
“Forgive me, Lord,” she whispered raggedly. “I’ve ruined everything good You have given me.”
She was so lost in her sorrow that she didn’t hear the footsteps approaching her.
“Delia?” Zach’s soft drawl gradually penetrated the thick, dark haze of emotion covering her. He crouched beside her and put a warm, comforting hand on her shoulder. “Princess? What is it? What’s wrong?”
Zach?
What was he doing here? How had he found her?
“I followed you from the Hawkinses’ house,” he explained, even though she hadn’t asked the question out loud. “I drove up just as you were leaving. I guess you didn’t see me.”
“But—” She caught herself on a sob. “Shouldn’t you be driving Phoebe to San Antonio?”
A soft smile lit on his lips as he shook his head. “I had Ben drop me off at the station to switch out with another paramedic so I could come back and find you.”
Delia drew in a sharp, ragged breath.
“It was time for the shift change anyway,” he said, as if his appearance here was no more than a coincidence.
“Why?” She wanted to ask more, but all of her questions turned into jumbled phrases swirling around in her head.
“Why was there a shift change, or why did I come after you?” he teased.
She shook her head and then nodded.
“No to number one, yes to number two,” Zach repeated aloud. “Got it.”
She knew he was trying to make her smile, to loosen up a bit, but she just couldn’t. Now that she’d let her guard down, there was nothing left for her except to scramble for her dignity.
She sat up a little straighter and looked him in the eye.
He brushed the back of his knuckles along the line of her chin, which only served to make her quiver even more than she already was, only this time it wasn’t from the cold. “I knew something was bothering you. I wanted to find out what it was.”
“H-how?”
She was stammering like an idiot, unable to complete more than one-word questions.
Zach didn’t seem to notice. “I saw you crying back at the house.”
She wanted to deny the meaning of her tears, but this was Zach. He knew her better than anyone, just as she knew him. He would not let this go until she told him what he wanted to hear.
The truth.
“I’m so sorry. I ruined everything,” she explained, halting as she continued to sob.
“How is that?” he queried in a soft drawl.
“I ran away when I should have stayed and fought for you. I should have come home when I knew I was pregnant with Riley. You should have known your son, and he should have known his father.”
Zach blew out a breath, then turned and slid to the ground with his back leaning against the Dumpster. Reaching for her shoulders, he gently pulled her into his arms.
“That’s a lot of should have’s.”
She hung her head. “I’m so ashamed of myself.”
“You don’t hold a candle to me.” With a groan, he tightened his hold on her shoulder and brushed his mouth over her hair. “I’ve done things I don’t even want to think about. I’ve shamed myself, you and most of all, God.”
“But you’ve become such a fine Christian man,” Delia protested. “You’ve done so many good things and helped so many people.”
“And you haven’t?” The tenor of his voice inched upward. “Don’t you see, princess? This isn’t a contest. God’s not keeping score on what we’ve done right versus what we’ve done wrong. We’d never win that race. No one would.”
“For by grace you have been saved, through faith, and this is not of yourselves, but it is the gift of God, so no one can boast.” Delia didn’t know where the scripture had come from. She hadn’t studied the Bible in years. But somehow that old Sunday school verse had surfaced in her mind.
“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” he quipped.
“No, you couldn’t,” she agreed, leaning back so she could see into his eyes.
They sat quietly for a moment, each with the
ir own thoughts, before Delia turned fully around in his arms.
“I still want you to know that I am deeply, profoundly sorry for all of my actions toward you, especially where Riley is concerned. I will do everything in my power to make up for the time I took away from you.”
He tilted his head and flashed her the bad boy grin that once again stole her heart. “Yeah?”
“Yes,” she repeated. “I don’t know if you’ve thought about it yet, but I’m ready to comply with whatever custody arrangements you’d like.”
“Oh, I’ve thought about it, princess,” he said, his voice dropping to a low drawl.
She held her breath, waiting for him to drop the bomb, half expecting that he’d want more than fifty percent of the time with his son. Time that he deserved, and that she would willingly give, even if she was leaving a little bit of herself every time Riley walked out the door to go be with Zach.
“Any custody arrangement?” he clarified.
She broke her gaze away from him and nodded.
“Then I choose a hundred-percent custody. I want Riley to come and live with me full-time.”
“What?” Her gaze returned to his with ferocity and she stood to her feet, burning with indignation. “But that’s not fair. I mean, I want you to be in his life, but I can’t just give him away to you.”
He quirked his lips, but he didn’t stand to meet her. “I never asked you to.”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s fairly simple,” he said, rolling to a crouch. “I want you and Riley both to move in with me—on a permanent basis.”
“But—” she protested. Her heart was pounding any coherent thought out of her head.
“You can’t go on living at your parents’ house forever, and I have plenty of room.”
“Yes, but—” She was strangling herself trying to speak.
“You’ve seen the place. It could use a woman’s touch.” His bad boy grin widened.
“I—” She didn’t know what else to say.
