by Diana Palmer
“I’ll remember that. I hope I get the chance to find out firsthand.”
* * *
It took two days for Dane to track Dana to a small boarding house outside Houston. During that time, Hayden lost sleep and thought torturously of all the things that could have happened to his errant, pregnant wife. It didn’t improve his temper, or his heartache.
When Dane called, he was over the moon. He wasted no time at all getting to Mrs. Harper’s Boarding House, but when he pulled up at the front steps in the Lincoln he’d rented at the airport on his arrival in Houston, he didn’t know quite what to say. He stared at the big white house with longing and apprehension. His wife was in there, but she didn’t want him. She’d tried to divorce him, had moved here and she’d made a good effort to erase her presence from his life. She hadn’t even said a word to him about her pregnancy. How did he talk to her, what did he say to cancel out all the hurts he’d dealt her?
He got out of the car and approached the house slowly. His steps dragged, because he dreaded what was coming. He went up and rang the doorbell. A plump, smiling elderly woman opened the door.
“May I help you?” she asked politely.
“I’m Hayden Grant,” he said in a subdued tone. “My wife lives here, I believe. Her name is Dana.”
“Miss Mobry is your wife?” she asked, puzzled. “But I’m sure she said she wasn’t married.”
“She’s very much married,” he replied. He removed his cream-colored Stetson, belatedly, and let the hand holding it drop to his side. “I’d like to see her.”
She gnawed on her lip, frowning. “Well, she’s not here at the moment,” she said. “She went to see that new adventure movie playing at the shopping center. With Mr. Coleman, that is.”
He looked vaguely homicidal. “Who’s Mr. Coleman?” he asked shortly.
“He lives here, too,” she stammered, made nervous by the black glitter of his eyes. “He’s a very nice young man…”
“Which shopping center and which movie?” he demanded.
She told him. She didn’t dare not to.
He stomped back to his car, slammed into it and skidded on his way out the driveway.
“Oh, dear, oh, dear,” Mrs. Harper mumbled. “I wonder if I shouldn’t have mentioned that David is eleven years old…”
* * *
Sadly unaware of the age of Dana’s “date,” Hank drove to the shopping center, parked the car and went straight to the theater. As luck would have it, the feature was just ending, so people were pouring out of three exits. He stood, glaring, until he spotted Dana.
She was talking to a small boy in a baseball cap, her face animated, smiling. His heart jumped as he watched her come out of the big building. He loved her. He hadn’t known. He honestly hadn’t known. His heart accelerated wildly, but his eyes began to glow from within, quiet and watchful and adoring.
Dana was too far away to see his expression. But she spotted him at once and stopped dead in her tracks. The boy was saying something, but she wasn’t listening. Her face was stark white.
Hank approached her, alert to any sudden movement. If she tried to run, he’d have her before she got three steps.
But she didn’t run. She lifted her chin as if in preparation for battle and her hands clenched the small purse she was holding against the waist of her denim skirt.
“Hello, Dana,” he said when he was within ear-shot.
She looked at him warily. “How did you find me?” she asked.
“I didn’t. A detective agency did.”
She looked paler. “I signed all the necessary papers,” she told him curtly. “You’re free.”
He stuck his hands deep into his pockets. “Am I?”
Dana turned to David and handed him a five-dollar bill. “Why don’t you go back in there and play the arcade machine for a minute or two while I speak to this man, David?” she asked.
He grinned. “Sure, Miss Mobry, thanks!”
He was off at a lope.
“So you came with the boy, not with some other man,” Hank murmured absently.
She flushed. “As if I’d trust my own judgment about men ever again! David’s mother is at work, so I offered to treat him to a movie.”
“You do like kids, don’t you?” he asked, and his eyes were very soft as they fell to her waistline. “That’s fortunate.”
“That isn’t what I’d call it,” she said stubbornly.
He sighed. He didn’t know what to say, but this certainly wasn’t the ideal place to talk. “Look, suppose you go fetch the boy and we’ll go back to your boarding house? Did you drive here?”
She shook her head. “We got a city bus.” She wanted to argue, but he looked as if he was going to dig his heels in. She couldn’t understand why he was here, when Betty was free. Perhaps that’s what he wanted to explain. She seemed to have no choice but to do as he said, for the time being, at least.
“A city bus!” he muttered, and in her condition! But he didn’t dare mention that he knew about her pregnancy. Not yet. “Get the boy,” he said shortly. “I’ll take you home.”
She went to find David, and Hank drove them back to the boarding house. David thanked her and deserted her. Mrs. Harper hovered, but a hard glare from Hank dispatched her soon enough. He closed the door behind her and sat down in the one chair in Dana’s room, while she perched on the bed a little nervously.
“Where’s Betty?” she wanted to know.
“In Corpus Christi, I guess,” he said. “I’m alone.”
“You won’t be alone for long,” she reminded him. “You’re getting married again.”
“I’m already married,” he said quietly. “I have a young and very pretty wife.”
She flushed. “I divorced you.”
He shook his head. “I stopped it.”
“Why?” she asked miserably, her eyes eloquent in a face like rice paper. “You don’t have to stay married to me now that she’s free!”
He winced. He reached over and touched her cheek, but she jerked away from him.
He averted his face and stared down at the floor. “I don’t want to remarry Betty.”
She stared at his averted features, unconvinced. “You’ve never gotten over her, Hank,” she said sadly. “You said yourself that part of the reason you married me was so she wouldn’t know how you’d grieved since she divorced you.”
“Maybe it was the old story of wanting what I couldn’t have, or the grass being greener on the other side of the fence,” he ventured.
She drew in a long breath. “Or maybe it was just that you never stopped loving her,” she added, and the eyes that searched his were wistful and sad. “Oh, Hank, we can’t love to order. We have to settle for what we can have in this life.” Her eyes went to the floor. “I’ll go back to school and work toward my degree and I’ll be happy.”
His eyes slid up to hers. “Without me?” he asked bluntly.
She wasn’t sure how much he knew. She blinked and gathered her scattered wits. “Doesn’t Betty want to marry you?” she asked suspiciously.
“More than ever,” he affirmed.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I told you. The problem is that I don’t want to marry her.”
“I don’t understand,” she said uneasily.
He smiled wistfully. “I used to envy other men taking their sons on camping and fishing trips with them. I never thought I might have one of my own. But a girl would be nice, too. I guess girls can fish and hunt as well as boys can, if they’re so inclined.” His eyes lifted to hers. “You like to shoot, as I recall.”
“I don’t like to hunt,” she replied, uneasy at the way he was talking about kids. He couldn’t possibly know…
He shrugged. “I’ll teach you to shoot skeet.”
“Okay, but I won’t cook them.”
He chuckled. “Concrete won’t tenderize.”
“I know what a skeet target is made of.” She drew in another breath. The way he was touching
her made her toes tingle. “Betty might change her mind about having a child.”
He shook his head. “And even if she did, she wouldn’t want it, or love it. You will. You’ll want our kids and spoil them rotten if I don’t watch out.” His eyes lifted. “Tilly’s already looking forward to it. She’s bought a food processor so she can make fresh baby food for him.”
She flushed. “She’s jumping the gun.”
“No, she isn’t,” he said with a grin. “Tilly’s kin to Dr. Lou Coltrain’s office nurse.”
“Oh, my God!” she said in a burst.
He shrugged. “So I know. The world won’t end because you didn’t tell me.” His eyes darkened. “I’m sorry that I made it so rough on you that you didn’t feel you could tell me.”
She glared at him. “I’m not going back.”
His shoulders seemed to fall. “I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes,” he said. “You have to make allowances. Until a couple of weeks ago, I thought I was still in love with my ex-wife. I had to get to know her again to realize that she was an illusion. The reality of Betty was pretty harsh, after you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Don’t you?” He sighed. “Well, Dana, I suppose I made an idol of her after she left. The one that got away is always better than anything that’s left.”
“You didn’t act like someone who wasn’t in love with his ex-wife,” she reminded him as all the painful things he’d said to her returned in a flash of anger.
“All it took was two weeks in Corpus Christi to cure me,” he returned. He leaned forward with his forearms resting on his knees and stared at the floor. “She’s shallow,” he said, glancing at Dana. “Shallow and selfish and spoiled. And I’d been away from her so long that I forgot. It cut the heart out of me when I realized that you went away because you thought I wanted Betty instead of you. I’m sorry for that.”
“You can’t help wanting someone else…”
“I want you, Dana,” he said with a quizzical smile.
She clasped her hands hard at her waist. “You’re just making the best of it, aren’t you? You know about the baby and how I feel about you and you’re sorry for me.”
His heart jumped. “How you feel?” he prompted.
“You know that I’m in love with you,” she said, avoiding his penetrating gaze. “That I have been since I was seventeen.”
His heart wasn’t jumping anymore, it had stopped. He barely could breathe. He certainly was robbed of speech.
She jerked one shoulder as she assumed his silence was one of regret for her sake, because he had nothing to give her. “Shameful, isn’t it? I was still a kid. I couldn’t even let boys kiss me, because I kept thinking about you. I’ve lived like a nun all these years, waiting and hoping, and it has to happen like this…you have to be forced into marriage just when your ex-wife is free again.”
He hadn’t known that she loved him. He’d known she wanted him, which was a very different thing altogether. He was stunned for a moment, and then overwhelmed, overjoyed.
“I’m sorry,” she said on a long breath. “I guess we’re both trapped.”
“You’ll need some maternity clothes,” he remarked, clearing his throat. “Things to wear when we give parties. After all, I’m a rich man. We wouldn’t want people to think I couldn’t afford to dress you properly, would we?”
She frowned. “I’m not coming back…”
“We can turn that third guest room into a nursery,” he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. “It’s next door to the master bedroom, and we can leave the door open at night. I’ll get a monitor, too,” he added thoughtfully. “So if the baby has any problems at night, it will set off an alarm next to our bed. Or we could get a nurse for the first month or two. Would you like that?”
He’d made her speechless with plans. “I haven’t thought about any of that,” she stammered.
“Don’t you want a settled life for our baby, with a mother and father who love him?” he persisted.
He cut the ground right out from under her with that last question. What could she say? Of course, she wanted a settled life for their child. But if Hank still loved Betty, what kind of life would it be?
Her eyes mirrored all her worries. He touched her cheek, and then smoothed back her disheveled hair. “I was trying to live in the past because I didn’t have much of a present, or a future, unless you count making money. That’s no longer true. I have something to look forward to now, something to challenge me, keep me going.” He smiled. “I guess Tilly will make me miserable for a week, paying me back for the way I treated you. I won’t be allowed to forget one rotten thing I said to you, and she’ll burn the banana pudding every time I ask her to make it.” He sighed. “But it will be worth it, if you’ll just come home, Dana. Tilly’s all aglow at the thought of having a baby in the house.”
“We’ve already discussed this,” she began.
He bent and drew his lips tenderly across hers. “Not really,” he murmured. “Open your lips a little, I can’t taste you like this.”
“I don’t wa…”
“Ummm, that’s it,” he whispered gently, and deepened the kiss.
She forgot what she was trying to think to say to him. Her arms curled up around his neck and she let him lift her over his legs, so that he could hold her gently across his body. He was gentle and slow, and very thorough. When he finally lifted his head, she couldn’t think at all.
“I’m going to like being a father,” he assured her. “I won’t mind sitting up with you when he’s teething or giving bottles or changing diapers.”
“That’s nice.”
He smiled. “Do you have a lot to pack?”
“Just a few skirts and blouses and shoes. But I haven’t said I’m going with you.”
“What’s holding you back?” he asked gently.
“You haven’t explained why you don’t want Betty back.”
“Oh. That.” He shrugged. “I don’t love her. I’m not sure I ever did. I wanted her, but there’s a big difference in lust and love.”
“Are you sure?”
“Considering the sort of man I am—and I think you know me pretty well by now—do you think I’m capable of making love to one woman when I’m in love with someone else?”
She searched his eyes. “Well, no, I don’t think so. You’re pretty old-fashioned like that.”
He nodded. “So how could I have made love to you so completely that one time if I’d really been in love with Betty?”
“I’m sure most men wouldn’t have refused something that was offered.”
“We’re talking about me. Would I?”
She grimaced. “No.”
“That being the case, making love to you was something of a declaration of my feelings, wasn’t it?”
It was. She caught her breath. “Oh, my goodness. I never considered that.”
“Neither did I until I was well on my way to Corpus Christi,” he admitted. “I called it guilt and remorse and misplaced emotion, I denied it to you and myself. But in the end, I came back because I loved you. And you weren’t there.” He smiled sadly. “I thought you’d fight Betty. I never expected you to run.”
“I didn’t think you wanted me. Women only fight when they know they’re loved. I didn’t.” She searched his eyes, fascinated. “I don’t guess you’d like to…say it?”
He grimaced. “Not really.”
“Oh.”
“But I could. If it matters that much.” He looked down at her stomach. “I guess kids like to hear it, too, don’t they?”
She nodded. “All the time.”
He cleared his throat. “Okay. Give me a minute to get used to the idea.”
She smiled with excitement and growing delight. “You can have as much as you need.”
“Okay. I…love you.”
Her eyebrows rose.
“I love you,” he repeated, and this time it sounded as if he meant it. He stared down at her with wonder. “By God, I do
,” he whispered huskily. “With all my heart, Dana, even if I didn’t realize it.”
She moved closer and slid her face into his hot throat, curling into him like a kitten. “I love you, too, Hank.”
He smiled crookedly, staring past her head to the door. He hadn’t expected it to be so easy to confess his deepest emotions. He’d never done it before, not even with Betty. His arms contracted. “I guess we’re not the first people who ever fell in love.”
“It feels like it, though, doesn’t it?” she asked drowsily. “Oh, Hank, I wish my dad was still alive, so he’d know.”
His hand smoothed over her hair. “He knows, Dana,” he said at her temple, his voice deep and quiet and loving. “Somehow, I’m sure he knows.”
She curled closer. “Perhaps he does.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
The baby was born at two o’clock in the morning. Tilly sat in the emergency room cubicle in her robe and slippers, her hair in curlers, glaring at the disheveled man across from her who was sitting up, pale-faced, on the examination table thanking the doctor for his new son.
“It’s a boy!” he exclaimed when the doctor moved out of sight. “And Dana’s fine! I can see her as soon as they bring her out of the recovery room!”
“You saw her already,” she muttered at him and cocked an eyebrow at his red face. “Just before you fainted…”
“I never!” he said. “I tripped over that gown they made me wear in the delivery room!”
“The one that only came to your knees?” she asked knowingly. “Dana was laughing so hard, she didn’t even have to push. The baby just popped right out.”
“I’ve had a hectic night,” he began defensively.
“Sure, denying that it was labor pains, right up until her water broke. ‘It’s just false labor, sweetheart, you’re only eight months and three weeks along,’ you said. And there we were, rushing her to the hospital because you were afraid to wait for an ambulance, me in my nightgown, too! And then we no sooner get her into the delivery room when you see the baby coming out and faint dead away!”
He glared at her. “I didn’t faint, I tripped…!”
