Her Hard to Resist Husband

by Tina Beckett

  Every ounce of color drained from her face. “Wh-what about Daniel and Cleo? You said you couldn’t do this alone.”

  “It doesn’t look like I have much of a choice.” He shot her a glance. “I made a promise that I intend to keep. Besides, I’ve been through the same rinse-and-spin cycle a couple of times already. I’m sure I can figure things out.”

  Just before he pulled the door shut he added, “Finish your conversation, then let me know what you decide.”

  * * *

  Tracy draped a moist cloth over the forehead of the woman she was treating then used a gloved hand to check her vitals. They were through the worst of the cholera outbreak. There were several army doctors among their group, but this time they hadn’t been sent at the request of her husband but were instead digging drain fields and latrines in an effort to prevent a recurrence.

  Ben wouldn’t send anyone for her this time, because he was through with her. He’d said as much.

  She wasn’t sure why Pedro’s call had spurred her to action. Maybe her instincts were programmed to bolt at the first sign of trouble.

  Like having an actual appointment with a doctor? Was she still running…still having to move and work to feel alive?

  No, she’d felt alive with Ben as well. And this trip felt hollow. It didn’t fulfill her the way it might have a few years ago. She missed the kids. Missed Ben.

  Matt’s wife sat down beside her on an intricately woven mat. “How are you holding up?”

  Stevie had been with Projeto Vida for two years, working alongside her husband. They had a daughter as well, but she was confined to the boat this trip. Neither Matt nor Stevie wanted to run the risk of her becoming ill.

  “As well as anyone.”

  Stevie gave her a keen look. “Are you sure about that?”

  “We’re all tired. I came here to help.”

  “And you have.” Stevie touched her gloved hand to Tracy’s. “How’s Ben?”

  She flashed the other woman a startled look. Word evidently traveled fast. “I wouldn’t know. I won’t be heading back there.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too.” She gave her patient’s shoulder a gentle squeeze and murmured that someone would check on her in just a little while then she stood with a sigh. “How do you do it?”

  Stevie got to her feet as well. “What do you mean?”

  “How do you keep your marriage together and travel on the boat?”

  “We both believe in what we do.” She stripped her gloves off and motioned for Tracy to follow her. Once outside the tent she leaned against a tree. “Sometimes I just need a breath of fresh air, you know?”

  Tracy did know. The smells of illness got to you after a while.

  Letting her head bump the bark of the tree trunk, Stevie swiveled her head toward her. “Matt wasn’t sure he wanted to come back to Brazil after losing so much here. If he’d chosen to stay in the States, I would have stayed with him. Because that’s the only important thing—that we’re together.”

  “So you’re saying I shouldn’t have come.”

  “No.” Stevie gave her a soft smile. “Only you know what’s right…what’s in your heart.”

  “I don’t know any more. Ben never liked me traveling.”

  “I’m sure he missed you very much when you were gone.”

  “Yes, I suppose he did. But other wives travel.”

  “As much as you do?” Stevie paused for a moment or two. “I think you have to examine your heart and decide what it is you want out of life. Why you’re so driven to do what you do.”

  Because she didn’t have to think about anything else when she was helping people?

  In the past she’d worked herself to exhaustion day after day—had fallen into bed at night, her eyes closing as soon as her head had hit the pillow.

  Movement equaled life.

  But was this really living? Was she doing this because she believed in her work or because she was afraid to stay in one place, where she might start feeling trapped—claustrophobic?

  She’d missed her doctor’s appointment to be here. Could she not have delayed her flight for a few hours? In reality, despite Pedro’s dire predictions, there’d been enough hands to fight the cholera outbreak, even if she hadn’t been here. She’d been living her whole life as if she were single with no commitments. Yes, she’d had this job before she’d met Ben. But in choosing it over him time and time again she’d been sending the message that he meant no more to her than he’d meant to his parents.

  Lord, she’d made such a mess of things. Such a mess of her life.

  And in staying so incredibly busy, she’d not only risked her long-term health but she’d also lost sight of the person she loved most: Ben.

  Maybe it was time to start pulling away. Let someone else take the helm of her organization—Pedro maybe—and go back to practicing medicine in a clinic. She might not be able to help whole swaths of people but she could help them one at a time.

  Which path was more valuable in the long run? Maybe it wasn’t a question of either/or. Maybe each had its own place in the grand scheme of things. And there were two children who’d trusted her to be there for them.

  She turned and hugged her friend. “Thank you. I think I’ve just realized where I should be.”

  “In Teresina?”

  She nodded. “I don’t know why I didn’t see it before now.”

  “Maybe because ‘now’ was when you needed to see it.” With a secretive smile Stevie waved to her husband, who was working off in the distance. He winked back.

  And Tracy did what she should have done four years ago: she walked to the nearest soldier and asked if she could hitch a ride on the next boat out of the Amazon.

  * * *

  Ben sucked down a mouthful of tepid coffee and grimaced before going back to his microscope and glaring down at the slide beneath the lens. He had no business being here today. He’d had no business here all week.

  Why had he drawn that ridiculous line in the sand and dared her to cross it? Maybe because he’d never forgiven his parents for withholding their affection when he’d been a child?

  Yeah, well, he was an adult now. Well past the age of holding grudges.

  He hadn’t heard from Tracy since she’d left, and he’d cursed himself repeatedly for not being more sensitive the last time they’d talked…for not trying to really listen to what she’d been saying.

  He wasn’t the only one who was upset.

  Rosa had chewed his butt up one side and down the other when she’d found out Tracy wasn’t coming home.

  “I used to think I raised you to be a smart boy, Benjamin Almeida. Now I’m not so sure.”

  “You shouldn’t have had to raise me at all.”

  “Was it so bad? Your childhood?”

  He thought back. No, his parents had been gone for months at a time, but when they had been there there’d been laughter…and then, when they’d left again there’d been tears. But through it all Rosa had been there. How many children grew up not even having a Rosa in their lives?

  If he thought about it, he was damned lucky.

  And if he’d given Tracy a little more time to settle in before jumping to conclusions at the first phone call she’d got from the office, maybe he could have done a better job at being a husband this time.

  He rummaged around in his desk until he came up with an old tattered business card that he’d saved for years. Staring at the familiar name on the front, he turned it over and over between his fingers, battling with indecision. He knew from their time in Sao Joao dos Rios that the phone number was still the same. Finally, before he could change his mind, he dialed and swiveled around in his chair to face out the window.

  Did she even have cellphone reception wherever she was?

  He heard the phone ring through the handset, but there was something weird about it. Almost as if it was ringing in two places at once—inside his ear and somewhere off in the distance. On the second ring the soun
d outside his ear grew louder in steady increments, and he frowned, trying to figure out if he was just imagining it. On the third ring her voice came through. “Hello?”

  Ben’s breath seized in his lungs as he realized the greeting came not only from the handset pressed to his ear but from right behind him. He slowly swiveled and met sea-green eyes. They crinkled at the corners as they looked back at him.

  Keeping the phone pressed to his ear, he gazed at her in disbelief, while she kept her phone against her own ear as well.

  “Tracy?”

  “Yes.”

  God, he could just jump up and crush her to him. But he didn’t. He said the words he’d been rehearsing for the last half-hour. “I’ve missed you. Please come home.”

  Tears shimmered in her eyes, her throat moving in a quick jerking motion. “I’ve missed you too. I’ll be there soon.”

  With that she clicked her phone shut and moved towards him. When she stood before his chair, he reached up and pulled her down onto his lap. “You’re home.”

  “I am. I’m home.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him against her. “And this time I’m here to stay.”

  One year later

  Ben strode down the hallway of Einstein Hospital in Sao Paulo, Brazil, until he reached the surgical wing. Tracy’s dad was already in the waiting room. He stood as he saw Ben heading his way. The two men shook hands, Sam taking it one step further and embracing his son-in-law.

  Ben said, “I’m glad you were able to come, sir.”

  “How is she?”

  “Still in surgery.”

  The months since Tracy had stood in his office and they’d shared declarations of love had passed in a flurry of medical tests for both Cleo and Tracy. Cleo’s initial diagnosis of diabetes had been confirmed, but it was now under control. They’d even been granted custody of both children.

  Tracy’s mammogram had come back with an area of concern and whether it was cancer or not, they both knew it was time. They’d made this decision together soon after she’d come home. She’d shed tears while Ben had reassured her that he’d love her with breasts or without.

  Nodding to the chair Sam had vacated, they both sat down.

  “She did it, then,” his father-in-law said.

  “Yes.” Ben leaned forward, elbows on his knees, clasped hands dangling between them. “She wanted to be proactive.”

  Tracy’s dad nodded. “If her mother had known she carried this gene, I know in my heart she would have done the same thing. And I would have stood beside her.” He dragged a forearm across his eyes, which Ben pretended he didn’t see. “How long will she be back there?”

  “Two to four hours.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s going on three hours now. We should be hearing something fairly soon.”

  Two to four hours. Such a short time. And yet it seemed like for ever.

  Unable to sit still, he settled for pacing while Sam remained in his seat. Ben had already made all kinds of deals with God, so many he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep track. But Tracy had been so sure of this, so at peace with her decision in the past week.

  A green-suited man came around the corner, a surgical mask dangling around his neck. “Mr. Almeida?”

  Ben moved towards him, Sam following close behind. The surgeon frowned, but Ben nodded. “This is Tracy’s dad. He’s just arrived in town.”

  The man nodded. “The surgery went fine. I didn’t see any definite areas of malignancy, but I’m sending everything off to pathology for testing just in case.”

  “Tracy’s okay, then?” Ben didn’t want to hear about malignancies or what they had or hadn’t found.

  “She’s fine.” The man hesitated. “Reconstruction shouldn’t be a problem. We’d like to keep her here for a day or two to observe her, however. Will she have someone to help her at home afterwards?”

  “Yes.” Ben’s and Sam’s answers came on top of the other, causing all of them to smile.

  Ben finished. “We’ll make sure she gets everything she needs.” He knew the kids would both be beside themselves, desperate for a chance to talk to Tracy. But he’d left them in Teresina, in Rosa’s care—though he’d realized the irony of it. Kids survived. And these two kids had survived more than most…more than he’d ever had to, even on his worst days.

  “Good,” the surgeon said. “Give us a few minutes to get her settled then someone will come and get you. Please, don’t stay long, though. She needs to rest.”

  Ben held out a hand. “Thank you. For everything.”

  The surgeon nodded then shook each of their hands and headed back in the direction from which he’d come. Before he rounded the corner, though, he turned and came back. “I wanted to tell you what a brave young woman Tracy is. I don’t know how much you’ve talked about everything, but whether you agree with her decision or not it was ultimately up to her. Support her in it.”

  “Absolutely.” Ben wasn’t planning on doing anything else. He’d spend the rest of his days supporting whatever decisions she made. He was just grateful to have her back.

  “Thanks again.”

  “You’re welcome. Take care.” This time the surgeon didn’t look back but disappeared around the corner.

  “Why don’t you go back and see her first?” Ben told Sam.

  “My face is not the one she’ll want to see when she wakes up. There’s plenty of time.”

  Yes, there was. Ben swallowed. “Thank you. I’ll tell her you’re here.”

  * * *

  Sleep.

  That’s all Tracy wanted to do, but something warm curled around her hand and gave a soft squeeze. Someone said her name in a low, gravelly voice she should recognize.

  Did recognize.

  “Trace.”

  There it was again. Her heart warmed despite the long shivers taking hold of her body. She was cold. Freezing. Her body fought back, shuddering against the sensation.

  Something settled over her. A blanket?

  She focused on her eyelids, trying to convince them to part—wanted to put a hand to her chest to see if they were still there.

  Oh, God. Moisture flared behind still closed lids and leaked out the sides.

  “Tracy.” Warm fingers threaded through her own. “You’re okay. Safe. I’m here.”

  She wanted to believe. But she was afraid the last year had all been a dream. At least the blanket was starting to warm her just a bit.

  Her throat ached. From the tube she’d had down her throat.

  Wait. Tube?

  Yes, from the surgery. Ben was here. Somewhere. He promised to be here when she woke up.

  So why was she even doubting she’d heard his voice?

  Okay. Moment of truth.

  Eyelids…open.

  As if by magic, they parted and the first thing she saw was the face. The gorgeous face that matched that low, sexy voice. Broad shoulders stretched wide against the fabric of his shirt. Ruffled brown hair that looked like he’d shoved fingers through it repeatedly, a piece in the back sticking straight up.

  Long, dark lashes. Strong throat. Gentle hands.

  Her husband.

  “Ben?” The sound rasped out of her throat as if coated by rough sandpaper—and feeling like it as well.

  “I’m here.”

  Yes, it was Ben. He was here. Crying?

  Oh, God. He was crying because she no longer had breasts. No, that wasn’t it. They’d made this decision together. Had they found something during the surgery?

  She tried to glance down at herself, but everything was buried under a thick layer of blankets. But there was no pain. Could the surgeon not have taken them?

  “Are they…?”

  “Shh. You’re fine.”

  Closing her eyes, she tried to clear her fuzzy head. “The kids?”

  “I spoke to Rosa a few minutes ago. They’re fine. They miss you.”

  I miss you.

  Her lips curved as she remembered Ben saying those very words as she’d stood in the
doorway of his office a year ago. That he’d actually called her—wanted her to come home—was a memory she’d treasure for ever.

  Where was the pain? Shouldn’t it hurt to have something sliced off your body?

  “I miss the kids, too.”

  He smiled and smoothed strands of hair back from her face. “Your dad’s here. They’ll only let one of us in at a time, and he insisted you’d want to see me first.”

  “He was right.”

  Lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed the top of it. His touch was as warm as his voice. “I love you, Tracy. And I’m going to spend the rest of my life showing you how much.”

  She closed her eyes, only to have to force them open again. “I like the sound of that.”

  One of the nurses appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame. “We probably need to let Mrs. Almeida get some sleep.”

  “Mrs. Almeida.” Tracy murmured the words as her eyelids once again began to flicker shut. She loved having his name.

  Almost as much as she loved the man who’d given it to her.

  EPILOGUE

  THE SUNRISE WAS gorgeous, a blazing red ball of fire tossed just above the horizon by the hand of God.

  Today promised to be a scorcher—just like most days in Teresina. And she relished each and every one of them. Curling her hands around the railing of the deck off their bedroom, Tracy let the warmth of the wood sink into her palms and gave a quiet sigh of contentment. She loved these kinds of mornings.

  Five years since her surgery and no sign of cancer.

  Tracy was thrilled to be a part of Crista Morena’s thriving pediatric practice. And twice a year she and Ben took a trip along the Amazon to do relief work. Together. Something that might have been impossible in the past.

  A pair of arms wrapped around her from behind, sliding beneath the hem of her white camisole and tickling the skin of her tummy. She made a quiet sound, putting her hands over his and holding him close. Leaning her head against her husband’s chest, she thought about how truly blessed she was.