Sheltering Annie

by Lauren Giordano

  He stroked the tears from her face, his thumbs rough and gentle against her skin. "If you want to take a year off and be with the boys—that'll be great, too. Hell, if you said you still wanted to work at New Beginnings . . . I'd cheer you on, sweet." His expression was puzzled. "I want you to do whatever makes you happy, because if you're happy, then I'm gonna be ecstatic."

  "It's too much," she protested. "You'd be taking on three people and getting nothing in return. I need to feel like I'm contributing."

  "Annie, I'd be getting a family. You and the boys would breathe life into this house again, after too many quiet years. All I'm asking-" He hesitated. "I want you to consider it. That's all." His sigh was resigned. "I'm ready," he admitted. "Hell—I've been ready. But—all of this needs to be when you want it. When you're ready. I believe we'll get to the same place eventually."

  "I agree." She released a steadying breath, suddenly feeling as though she were floating above the ground. When he shot her a questioning glance, her smile trembled. "After thinking about it more-" Henry stilled beside her, unsure what she would say next. "I guess . . . maybe—I don't care so much anymore."

  His sapphire gaze met hers. "About which part?"

  Annie couldn't help the bubble of laughter. "All of it."

  "All of it?" His stance still guarded, he studied her. "Like—you moving in here with the boys?"

  She nodded, almost too happy to speak. His eyes lit with relief. Promise. Expectation. "I figure I'll be able to land a nursing job soon-"

  "Sweet—I swear it doesn't matter-"

  "It matters to me."

  "I know, darlin'." He raised her hand to his lips. "I meant—it doesn't matter for now. I just want you with me. I want the boys here. I want us together . . . every night."

  "I want that, too." She smiled up at the quiet, reliable man she'd fallen hopelessly in love with. The man who rarely spoke of feelings, but who revealed the strength of them through his actions every single day. "Maybe it would be a good idea to take the summer off. To . . . get to know the boys again. Let them settle in here. Develop a routine." She swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat. "They haven't h-had that . . . in a really l-long time."

  Hank nodded, his smile understanding. "You've been working long, hard hours for too many years. I'd love it if you wanted to take some time off."

  "I could . . . take them to the library for story hour. Maybe meet a few kids their age at the local pool-"

  He stole a glance at her. "If we hurry, we could get them signed up for summer baseball-"

  She drew in a sharp breath. "Really?"

  "I . . . sorta looked into it." His face reddened, as though she'd caught him confessing a deep, dark secret. "I was thinking it would be a good way for Tommy to meet boys who would be in school with him if you'd decided . . . to move out here."

  "You did, huh?" Annie couldn't contain her grin.

  "I know the guy who runs the program-" Staring at the family of ducks drifting on the pond, he glanced back at her. "If your opinion has changed, how do you feel about—the rest of it? Us—getting married?"

  She wrapped her arm around him, leaning into his side. "I think we should do it."

  A tremor jolted through him. He turned to take her in his arms. "Annie—really? You'll marry me?"

  She smiled at the love reflected in his gorgeous eyes. "Definitely."

  "Why the change?" His stance relaxed a notch, as though he wanted to believe what he was hearing.

  "Because . . . we both know there are no guarantees," she reminded gently. "We both know time is precious. And—because my heart finally knows it's right. I've always trusted you, Hank." Her heart beating too fast, she smiled up at him. "But now, I finally trust me."

  "Annie, I swear on everything holy—I’ll be there for you." He ran a shaky hand through his hair. "I know you can do it all on your own-"

  "I can," she agreed, interrupting him. Heat swept over her at his earnest words. Joy. A golden haze of bewildered happiness. That something so good and sweet and powerful could finally be happening to her. More than anything, she wanted Henry to understand what he'd done for her. What he'd done for them. She could do it all alone. "But, it would be so much more of a life if I can share it with you."

  His slow, dazzling smile made her toes curl. "Annie McKenna, I am gonna love the hell out of you."

  "Fair warning, Henry Freeman." She smiled over the sudden question in his eyes. "I'm gonna love you 'til the end of my days." 'Til death do us part.

  "I love you like crazy." He raised their joined hands to his lips. "And the boys. I promise I'll give a hundred fifty percent to help you raise them." Her face heated at the determination in his eyes.

  "Two hundred when you smile like that," he teased. "If I can be half as good a stepdad as you are their mother-"

  His quiet, dependable words were the anchor that would finally allow her to stay in one place. By his side. She’d been adrift for so long. "If we work together, our boys will have everything they need." He would always be there for them. In sickness and health. Unwavering. The safe harbor in any storm that came their way. Though he would love and protect them, it was his belief in her that made her stronger. "With you, everything is possible."

  He released a ragged sigh, the corded steel of his arms tightening around her, eyes glinting in the soft, afternoon light. Her beautiful, strong, quiet-talking hero. "Okay, then." Her hand possessively entwined with his, his smile heated her soul. "Sounds like we’ve got some plans to make."

  SIX WEEKS LATER, HANK's farm had undergone a drastic transformation. Along with busting out a wall in the den for the shiny, new, enormous arched window Hank had installed, he'd completed the big-enough-for-two, piled-with-a-million-pillows window seat for his beautiful bride. With enough damned, girly-colored chintz to make him seriously question his manhood. Which meant it would be absolutely perfect for Annie.

  Only two nights earlier, he'd finished her bookcases. After hauling them in from his workshop, he'd dragged himself off to bed, long after midnight. Then, he'd had to make love to the beautiful woman who would finally become his wife later today. Hank grinned at the memory. "Thank God we've got a honeymoon comin' up." He'd need the extra rest.

  Standing near the new window Annie had yet to see, he surveyed the completed project. With earnest help from his soon-to-be stepsons, he'd planted flowers. Lots and lots of flowers. A dozen or so had to be replanted—after Bo decided to dig them up. By the time the trio finished their work, they'd planted nearly a quarter acre. Some already blooming. Others still tender and green. Budding with promise. By next spring, Annie's dream would have taken root.

  "We did a good job, right?" Tommy's worried voice joined him at the window. When he slipped his little fingers into his hand, Hank gave them a reassuring squeeze.

  "Your mommy is going to love this seat. Every day she sits here, she's going to be looking out the window at all the flowers you and Jason planted for her. And she's going to love it even more knowing you boys did this for her." Hoisting him to his shoulder, they gazed out at the project they'd undertaken together. "It feels good, doesn't it?"

  "Uh-huh."

  "Just think . . . every year, there will be more and more flowers."

  "Like an ocean?"

  He chuckled. "Yeah, an ocean of flowers. Just remember not to go swimming in them or Mommy will get mad. No ball playin' in that spot."

  "We needs to tell Bo that." Tommy's head flopped against his shoulder. Hank closed his eyes, loving the weight of a little boy in his arms. A sensation he'd given up hope of ever feeling. "He likes diggin' them up."

  "Between the three of us boys, we'll try to keep him busy. Do you think you and Jase will be happy living out here with me and Bo?"

  Tommy leaned back to examine his face. "We . . . don't have to leave here, do we?"

  His heartbeat quickened at the flash of fear in his eyes. He was reminded of Annie's description of Phil. A charming abuser. Deceptive words. Empty promises
. Luring them in . . . before hurting them. Even now, her kids still weren't sure what to expect. "TomTom, this is your house now," he explained, keeping his voice neutral. His anger with Phil would be better released while splitting logs for the barbecue pits. "You and Jason and Mommy and me. We're gonna share it. And you can live here forever if you want."

  "I don't wanna leave."

  "Well, that's good because I don't think I could ever let you go." Time, he reminded himself. They needed time to discover he could be relied on. That he would never hurt them.

  "You couldn't?"

  "No." He stared into solemn, brown eyes. "I love you guys. I need you to stay here with me or I'd miss you too much."

  His eyes lit with happiness. "I love you too, Hank." When he threw his arms around his neck, Hank swallowed around the boulder in his throat. "An' you need someone like me to help you take care a' Bo. And Nelson. And Millie."

  "That's right. They're yours now, too."

  Tommy's head popped up again. "I have a dog," he whispered. "I have a dog!"

  Hank's smile was bittersweet as he wondered how long it would take before the little guy felt on solid ground again. Before Tommy would know he was safe. That his step-dad would go to his grave before he'd allow anyone to hurt him or Jason. Annie's words returned to him. Together. They would raise them with consistency and love. That would become the new standard in the boys' lives.

  "Alright, bud. You ready for some chores before we have to get all dressed up? Bo needs a bath."

  "Do I hafta get dressed up?" He scrunched his nose in protest.

  "If I do, then you do," Hank said as he swung him to the floor.

  Tommy's groan was long and drawn out as they headed out to the deck. "What time is the weddin'?"

  "O' dark hundred," he reminded. "When the fireflies start coming out." He paused at the railing to acknowledge the activity in the field at the base of the hill. Along with the construction for his wife's wedding gift, his farm had transformed for a more temporary occasion. Billowy tents had been erected to accommodate the eighty or so guests for the McKenna-Freeman wedding. Since Hank would be busy with other matters—like struggling into an entirely too formal tuxedo and taking ten billion pictures, Big Pete had volunteered his services.

  Like a drill sergeant, he'd directed the catering staff, supervised the tent construction and the stringing of hundreds of lights from the rafters. Pete had scowled in protest when Annie insisted he refer to them as twinkle lights, but she'd held firm. She'd also refused to allow Pete to stand guard duty at the end of the long, winding drive. For one night, Pete Shea would be off-duty. He was needed at the ceremony. After a pep talk from Jeff Traynor, Pete had reluctantly agreed.

  "Henry? Can you come here for a second?"

  Surprised, he turned from the rail. "I thought I wasn't supposed to see you today." He grinned at his blushing bride. Hell, he'd soaped her up in the shower only three hours earlier. "Except for earlier . . . when you begged me to-" She reached up on tiptoes to smack a hand over his mouth, turning an even brighter shade of crimson.

  "Stop making me blush," she protested.

  "You know I don't make promises I can't keep." Together, they returned to the railing. Millie bleated softly in the background. "What is it love? Do you need something else done for today?"

  She smiled up at him. "I have a surprise."

  He ran a hand through his hair. "Hell, it's not more guests, is it?" He glanced to the driveway. "I don't know where we're gonna fit all those cars-"

  "No, we're pretty much set for today."

  "Thank God."

  Her beautiful eyes heated. "It's more like . . . a gift."

  He raised an eyebrow. "I thought we agreed we weren't giving-"

  She dismissed him with a wave. "Oh, sure . . . like I don't know you've got some big surprise waiting for me behind that closed door?"

  He smothered a chuckle, loving the feisty, laidback personality that had gradually emerged from Annie's cautious shell. "Okay—you're right, sweet." She glanced behind him, searching for Tommy. "He's already gone back inside. I can hear him in there with my brother."

  She tugged him closer. "Okay—here goes."

  He stilled, suddenly sensing her seriousness. "Everything's okay, right?"

  "Henry-" She released a shuddering breath. "Henry . . . we're—going to have a baby."

  "What?" Her words detonated in his chest. Wind roared in his ears for several seconds—until he'd blown clear of the blast zone. Gripping the rail, he blinked several times. Released several shaky breaths. "We're . . . really?"

  She nodded, her eyes glinting. "I know this is . . . sudden-"

  Shaking off the fog clouding his brain, he was suffused with an overpowering certainty. A little pink dress. "Annie-" His words choked in his throat. A handful. For him. For them. He lowered a shaking hand to her stomach. "Darlin', it's a girl." A brown-eyed, blonde beauty.

  "We won't know for a while-"

  He shook his head. "It's a girl."

  Annie smiled over his enthusiasm. "In that case . . . what would you think about naming her Iris?"

  He gripped her hand. "For my mom?"

  She nodded. "And Gayle for a middle name. Because . . . this baby is hers, too." She glanced up the hill to the ridge. "She's a huge part of who you are, Henry. I'd like to honor her, if you don't mind."

  A dangerously large lump in his throat, Hank didn't risk speaking. Instead, he raised her fingers to his lips. His engagement ring sparked in the light, shiny with promise. In three hours, his band would rest there, too. "I love you." His voice hoarse, he pressed his lips to her forehead.

  As though sensing he needed a minute, Annie squeezed his fingers. "I have to get back inside . . . to get ready." She turned when she reached the door. "No peeking this time."

  ONE HOUR AND COUNTING. An hour to go before the ceremony, Hank found himself at loose ends. Needing a respite from the craze of activity taking place in the meadow, he'd left the band and caterer, the florist and the pain-in-the-ass photographer behind as he wandered up the hill to the stargazing spot. Bo by his side, they hiked to the clearing, temporarily escaping the noise below.

  "Gettin' a little crazy, don't you think?" Bo grunted in agreement before dropping at his feet. His expression was pained as he tried to chew off the royal blue bow tie adorning his neck. Nelson and Millie had been treated to the same. Baths and bow ties. For the pictures. Hank winced. He'd heard that damned phrase at least a hundred times in the last ten days.

  "Like we really need seven hundred pictures of this face?" He stared at his loyal companion. "You tired, bud? Those boys are runnin' you ragged, aren't they?" He smiled, recognizing that even Bo's life was changing. "Apparently, you can teach us old dogs a couple new tricks."

  Now, two little boys raced through their once too-quiet house. In trade, Bo had gained the hero-worship of a pair of sweet, loving brothers who wanted to do everything with him. "C'mon Bo!" The cry echoed through their house on a daily basis now as Tommy and Jason explored their new surroundings. Shrieks of laughter as they tramped through the woods; shouts of excitement when they discovered something new in the clearing. Swimming lessons in the pond—with Bo shaking water all over everyone. At least several trips a day up the hill to the spot where he stood now.

  Tipping his head back, Hank peered up through the canopy of pine and sycamore. "Gayle? Hon, are you here?" He waited for the answering breeze. "Today's the day, Gayle. I know you said you wanted me to be happy . . . and I truly am." Swallowing around the ache in his throat, he blinked back a haze of tears. "I love Annie with all my heart, but, you'll always own a piece of it, too. So . . . I wanted to ask for a favor. I have two little boys to help raise now. And-" He swallowed hard. "A baby. We're having a baby, hon."

  Though Annie had repeatedly assured him, Hank couldn't shake his concern. "I want this more than anything, Gayle. But—do you think I'm too old?" Pine needles rained down on a sudden gust of wind, plopping softly on the ground around
him. "You think I can do it, then?" He nodded, realizing she was right. Hell—as long as he worked hard enough, he'd always succeeded at anything he put his mind to.

  "I've always believed you've kept an eye on me . . . making sure I didn't do anything too stupid after you were gone." At the snuffly sigh near his feet, he bent to scratch Bo's ears. "I'd like to think you'll still be watching over us. I know you always wanted kids . . . and it was largely my fault we never had them." Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, he released a shaky breath. "But, maybe . . . you could help us? Sort of keep an eye on Tommy and Jason when they're running around up here? And the little one . . . once she's here?"

  When several pinecones dropped to the ground, Hank didn't even startle. His conversations with Gayle had always felt too natural to question the mystical outcome. "Okay, love. I figured you'd be on board, but I didn't want to assume-" When another pinecone thumped him on the shoulder, Hank glanced up and laughed. "My apologies, love. Of course you'll want to help. That was just me . . . bein' stupid."

  As he and Bo strolled down the hill, the festive, happy swell called to him. Laughter. The bluegrass band tuning up. The scent of barbecue from the smoker. A buzz of preparations. Beckoning him to join the party. Soon, he would be absorbed in the joyful chaos of his wedding. He was taking steps—toward his future. Moving forward—at long last. To the promising sweetness of the rest of his life. To the love of a beautiful woman he would always treasure. To the challenge of raising two sweet, impressionable boys. Guiding them to adulthood. Embracing the opportunity to teach them as they grew to be good, honorable men. To a precious baby girl.

  Pausing a last time, Hank glanced back over his shoulder. He released a gusting breath to steady himself. Today, he'd left his past behind in the clearing. His memories—for Gayle to protect. "Take care, love. Wish me luck."

  The sycamores swayed in a sudden gust of wind. Parting and dipping, they danced in the late afternoon breeze. Streamers of sunlight pierced the shadowed hollow, making it glow with light from the heavens above. Hank blew her a kiss, then turned for home. He began to walk faster. "C'mon Bo. We don't want to be late."