“And now you love me, don’t you, Mitch? You truly love me.” She made the pronouncement with conviction, knowing that if she wanted the happiness only Mitch could give her, she had to believe him. She had to take him on faith. Her near-death experience had taught her that she shouldn’t waste time on doubts and uncertainties. When fate handed you a miracle, you didn’t question it. You reached out and grabbed it. And said thank-you.
“Yes, I love you,” Mitch said.
“Then after the funerals...” Rod’s had been today, but the doctors had refused to release her so she could attend. She would have to make the arrangements for Fowler’s and possibly for Charles’s, too. He had no immediate family, only some first cousins in the northern part of the state.
Mitch wrapped her trembling body in his arms. She clung to him, knowing she was safe, assured that she could put the rest of her life in Mitch’s hands and he would never disappoint her.
“Once I’m completely recovered and have made peace with what happened, I want us to plan a wedding,” she said. “Nothing elaborate. Something simple and private, with just a few friends. With Zed as our best man and Nikki our maid of honor.”
How had a guy like him gotten so lucky? Mitch wondered. He didn’t deserve Emily. He’d never be good enough for her.
But who was he to question a gift from God? And that’s exactly what their love was. A gift. The most precious gift this life has to offer. Silently, prayerfully, he made a sacred vow that he would love, cherish and protect Emily as long as they lived.
“No more doubts?” he asked. “You’re going to take me on faith?”
“I realized something, yon know. Yesterday, you saved my life,” she said. “So, the way I see it, you repaid whatever debt you owed me. Now you don’t have to marry me to make atonement. You don’t have to pretend to love me if you don’t. We’re all squared away.”
Mitch grinned. “Emily Jordan, I love you.”
“Yes, I know you do,” she said, and kissed him.
Epilogue
Mitch Hayden held his infant daughter in his arms, totally in awe of the precious new life that he and Emily had created together. Hannah Hayden, a pink satin bow nestled in her wispy blond curls, stared up at her father with eyes as ice-blue as his own and let out a cry.
“Hey, big girl, don’t do that. Don’t cry, sweetheart. Daddy’ll make it all right.”
Holding a large cardboard box in her arms, Emily entered the living room from the front porch. “I don’t think Daddy can take care of the problem.” Emily set the box down on the carpenter’s trunk she used as a coffee table. “Hannah’s probably hungry. It’s past her feeding time.”
Mitch held his daughter against his chest, cradling her tiny head with the back of his big hand. “What’s Mama got in the box?”
“Here, let me take her,” Emily said. “Open the box for me, Mitch. It’s from Republic Books. I think it must be copies of my first Hannah book. When Hardy called last week, he said to be looking for them any day.”
Mitch handed Hannah to her mother. Emily unbuttoned her blouse as she sat down in the rocker they had placed by the front window. Glorious August sunshine poured inside, lighting the room and casting a pure, clean brightness over everything, including Emily and her baby.
After pulling a knife from his pocket, Mitch ripped into the box and lifted out a slender hardback book, the jacket depicting a dark-haired little girl dressed in a sailor suit and straw hat, so popular in the early twentieth century. Smiling, he held up the book for Emily to see; then the sight of his daughter at his wife’s breast took his breath away. Emily sang quietly as she rocked. Hannah laid her tiny fist against her mother’s breast while she nursed greedily.
Swallowing hard, Mitch cleared his throat. “It’s copies of your first Hannah book, all right. They look great. honey.”
“Take out two copies,” Emily told him. “I want to sign them and have them ready to give Nikki and Zed tomorrow before the christening.”
“The month of August is going to be busy for us,” Mitch said. “First Hannah’s christening, with Nikki and Zed as godparents, and then Nikki and Zed’s wedding, with us as best man and matron of honor.”
“Too bad Hannah isn’t old enough to be a flower girl.” Emily smiled as she gazed down in adoration at her child. “But I’m just thankful Nikki waited until after Hannah was born so I wouldn’t have to be an enormously pregnant matron of honor.”
“You would have been a beautiful enormously pregnant matron of honor.”
“You just say that because you love me.”
Laughing, Mitch stood, laid the book on the trunk and turned back to Emily. Leaning over, he kissed Hannah’s rosy cheek.
“Did you ever imagine we could be so happy?” Emily asked. “We’ve been married nearly two years. We have a beautiful daughter. I’ve just published my first book, and as Banning Construction’s new vice president, you’ll be running Zed’s whole construction empire while he’s away on a two-month honeymoon.”
“Zed has done a lot for me. I can’t imagine what my life would be like now if he hadn’t come to Arkansas and saved me from myself.”
Emily lifted her hand to his face, cupping his chin. “I can’t imagine my life without you and Hannah,” she told him. “I love you both so very much.”
“You and Hannah are my life,” Mitch said.
And Emily Hayden believed her husband, the stranger who had entered her world over two years ago and given her a new and gloriously happy life.
They had survived so much heartbreak and tragedy in their lifetimes, but for the past two years, since they’d married, they had stood together, strong and invincible, against the outside forces that could have destroyed them.
Emily tried to remember the loving uncle who had cared for her so devotedly for five long years, the uncle who had forced her to live when she wanted to die. Even now, after two years, she found it difficult to think of Fowler Jordan as the same man who had murdered two other human beings in such a cold, calculated way.
Emily knew she could never forget the past—not completely. It would always be a part of her, just as it would always be a part of Mitch. But the past was behind them, and that’s where it belonged. Yesterday. A faded memory that could never harm them again.
Emily sighed, then looked at Mitch and smiled. Her husband. The father of her child. The man she loved. The stranger in her heart was a stranger no more.
ISBN : 978-1-4592-6562-2
EMILY AND THE STRANGER
Copyright © 1998 by Beverly Beaver
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial officer, Silhouette Books, 300 East 42nd Street, New York. NY 10017 U.S.A.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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