by Caroline Lee
Yeah, and if I wasn’t willing to leave Everland for her, I’m sure not leaving it for him. “The kids need me.”
Silence, as she moved around the table, and he breathed a sigh of relief when she placed her hand on his shoulder. “We all need you, Micah. The kids, me, even Hank, although he doesn’t like to admit he’s always wanted a brother. Little Antonia needs you.” She scooped up the baby and dropped her on his lap. “Miss Greene needed you.” She took a deep breath. “And your father needs you. He needs to know you’re alive.”
Was she right? Did he owe it to his father to go to New York? “Pea ran back to him, where she belongs. He knows all about me now.”
Rojita kept her hand on Antonia’s back while the little one tried to chew on Micah’s shirt buttons. “So you think you’re going to have to choose between him and us? Between Everland and the city?”
“Yes, but I can’t leave,” he repeated, cuddling the baby against his chest. “I love my life here.”
When Rojita placed her hand on his scarred temple and turned his face up to hers, he saw the understanding in her eyes. “Don’t you think she understood that, Micah?”
Pea understood. The bolt of clarity hit Micah like a punch in the chest. She understood! That was why she hadn’t explained what her purpose for being here was. She’d come to Everland to tell him about his father, but once she saw how happy Micah was, she’d hesitated until it was too late.
She hadn’t lied to him for two weeks; she’d just been trying to avoid hurting him! Was it possible she cared for him—a scarred, poor leatherworker—as much as he cared for her?
What would’ve happened had Micah not allowed his frustration to boil over when he told her to leave? Would she still be here with him, or had Draven’s appearance meant she had to quit hesitating?
And had she not told him for his own sake, or because she’d come to realize how nice life could be outside her big-city dreams?
Sitting there staring at the big black stove on the opposite wall and cuddling the baby to him, Micah almost didn’t hear the knock. He felt Rojita leave his side, and briefly wondered who would bother to knock on a jail’s door. Gradually, the murmuring by the entryway drew his attention from wherever it had slipped off to, and he realized Rojita was speaking to someone.
He shifted in his chair to see who it was. A woman? A flash of green skirt behind his sister had him slowly standing, not daring to hope. His throat grew tight and his pulse began to pound behind his ruined temple.
Could it be?
Then Rojita stepped aside—he vaguely noted the pleased grin on her face—and there she was.
Pea!
Micah didn’t say anything; he couldn’t. Just stood there, staring. Wondering if he’d guessed right about her intentions during the last weeks. Wondering if he’d guessed wrong. She’d come back. Back to Everland, back to them.
Back to him.
His step towards her was more of a fall, though he caught himself at the last moment. She didn’t seem to notice, as she flicked her gaze between him and Antonia. Did she give them a look of longing, or was that just his imagination?
Rojita cleared her throat. “Welcome to our temporary home, Penelope. I’m going to go upstairs and put the biscuits in. You’ll stay for dinner, I hope? We can bunch up.”
We’re already bunched up, Micah wanted to say. He wanted to make a joke about Pea being welcome as long as she didn’t burn this building down. He wanted to tell her how much he’d missed her, and how much she meant to him.
Unfortunately, his throat didn’t seem to want to work at all.
And then Rojita was gone and Pea closed the door behind herself. He was alone with her and the baby, and he still couldn’t make himself say a maldita thing.
“Hello, Micah.” Her greeting was hesitant, unsure. Like she didn’t know how he was going to react.
Did she think he was going to ignore her? Send her away? Rant and rave? How could he, loving her as he did? No, he wasn’t going to do any of those things, but he had to know if Rojita was right. He had to know if Pea had set out to hurt him, or if she’d only wanted to keep from hurting him.
When he finally forced himself to speak, his voice was harsh, barely a whisper. “Why did you come back, Pea?”
She was staring at little Antonia, who was currently chewing on her fist and nuzzling against his collar. If he hadn’t been watching Pea, he would’ve missed the way her expression crumpled.
Slowly, she raised her beautiful pea-green eyes to his, and he watched them fill with tears. Those incredible eyebrows dropped at the corner, and he could see her pain written on her face.
Whatever she was about to say, it would change him forever.
She took a deep breath. Held it. Let it out. Looked away. Like she wasn’t brave enough to speak.
But then she met his eyes once more, offered a tremulous smile, and said simply, “Because I love you.”
That’s when Micah’s eyes filled with tears.
CHAPTER TEN
When she saw tears in those so-dark-they-were-almost-black eyes, Penelope’s knees went weak. She’d done this to him. She’d broken him until he couldn’t look at her—couldn’t hear her true feelings—without pain.
She had to do what she could to fix this, even if it didn’t work out in her favor. She hated to see him so hurt.
“Micah.” She took a stumbling step forward, hoping her legs would support her long enough to make him understand. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry about the fire, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth.”
Quietly, he said, “My name’s Michael.”
Her eyes closed on a wince. “I know,” she whispered. She’d been the one to give him his new name, after all. That was why no one besides her had been able to find him all these years. “I know,” she repeated, trying to assure both of them. “And I’m so sorry you had to find out that way.”
When she’d arrived in Everland, she’d stopped at the Van Winkle Inn to collect her satchel containing Mr. Prince’s will and newspaper articles and the photograph, before trying to track down Micah and his family. Rip hadn’t known what she’d been talking about when she’d asked after the satchel, but had escorted her up to the room she’d stayed in last week. While she searched—increasingly frantically—under the mattress where she’d stored the documents, he’d casually mentioned the Zapatos had stayed with him after the fire. Micah himself had slept in this bed the same evening she’d left town.
Micah had found everything. He knew why she’d come to Everland, and knew what she had kept from him for so long. But he had no idea why she’d done it.
If she accomplished nothing else on this trip, if he told her to go away again and never return, she had to make him understand before she did. She hadn’t meant to hurt him. Hadn’t meant to hurt anyone.
With one of his large hands cradling the baby’s back, he broke the silence. “Is your employer really my father?”
“Yes,” she croaked. She swallowed and tried again. “Yes, Mr. Prince has been looking for you for years. I was reorganizing some files a few months ago and found that collection of papers and the photograph.” Locking her hands in front of her, she focused her attention on the baby’s bottom, trying not to think how hard it was to hold Micah’s stare. “I took one look at the little boy in that picture, and I knew why no one had found you. Because of me.” She swallowed. “Because I told the orphanage your name was really Micah, not Michael. It was my fault you were missing for so long.”
“So you came looking for me.” His voice was still flat.
Longing to hear some gentleness, some encouragement, she forced herself to meet his eyes again. “I had to make it right. But once I was here—”
The baby chose that moment to throw herself backwards from Micah’s shoulder, in that unpredictable way she sometimes did. He caught her in time, but not before she’d twisted in his arms enough to see Penelope. Her chubby face lit up with one of her wonderful, gummy smiles, and she burbled, “
Baaaamamama” happily.
Penelope gasped, her hands rising to cover her mouth and her sudden tears. She knew it was just sounds to Antonia, totally meaningless…but that happy babbling had cut right through Penelope’s chest and into her heart in the most intense way.
She ached to reach for Antonia, to put her arms around both the baby and Micah. But he…
Micah stood stiffly, staring at the suddenly wiggly baby. Then, almost imperceptibly, he relaxed and met Penelope’s eyes. “She just started saying that.” He shrugged. “I thought she was missing you, and judging from the way she’s trying to get to you, I’d guess that’s still true.”
The baby stuck three fingers in her mouth and continued to make noise. “Mammmabababammmamab.”
Smiling, he held her towards Penelope. “I think it would make both of you ladies very happy if you’d come over here and give her a hug.”
Penelope fairly flew across the room, wrapping herself around the little one and inhaling deeply of the clean-smelling baby scent. Home. The feeling slammed into her, and she couldn’t stop the two tears which leaked from under her lids.
“Why don’t you sit down, Pea?” His invitation was gentle, and her heart ached to hear it. She was the one who was supposed to make him feel better, not the other way around.
She shook her head. She had to get this said. “Micah, I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, just like I never wanted to hurt your father. I made choices, and maybe they weren’t the right ones, but they were made in good faith and—”
Realizing she was beginning to cry in earnest, she forced herself to stop her blathering, to try to calm down. As if trying to help her, Antonia’s little hand patted her face, right below one eye.
She took a deep breath, and met Micah’s eyes. Those sad eyes which were watching her like he couldn’t make sense of her. “I tracked you here from Denver, but once I found you again, I hesitated to tell you why. I was thrilled to find you—my oldest friend—and interested in the life you’d built for yourself. But I was surprised, because you seemed to actually enjoy your life here. But surely you would enjoy being wealthy more, I thought.”
His expression had eased slightly, but she pushed on.
“I hesitated at first, because I’d come here to give you an amazing gift: a father and a life of ease. It’s every orphan’s dream to discover their parents still want you.” She did her best to tamp down on her bitterness, and instead turned her attention to the baby in her arms. Antonia had been abandoned, just like the rest of them at the orphanages…all except Micah.
“I was jealous, I guess. I knew and admired Mr. Prince, and here I was delivering him—and the life I’d always yearned for—to you. So I didn’t tell you right away.”
She looked up and met his eyes again. “I meant to tell you that first day, when I went to your home with all of the papers. But…well…you distracted me. The way you looked, the way you felt.” She swallowed, then confessed the truth. “The way you made me feel. I admit I was intrigued enough to be distracted from my mission. And then this little one arrived”—she bounced Antonia a bit—“and we became focused on her. Antonia became our life.”
He nodded slowly. “Those were hectic days. I sure appreciated having your help.”
“I would’ve walked across lava to be there with you, with her, with the children. And that was a complete surprise to me, because…” She swallowed. “Because I never wanted your life. Ever. I always pitied the people who didn’t have the bustle and culture of a big city. I never wanted your life—never wanted to worry about more than just myself, never wanted a family, or…or a man.”
When she uttered the word “man,” she made sure Micah knew exactly what she was thinking. What she had been thinking, since she first saw how he’d grown into a handsome and oh-so-desirable man.
When his eyes darkened further and he stepped towards her, she knew he understood.
“So I was surprised to discover how much I loved your life. It was because of you, Micah. I was falling in love with you, and with your love for your life. It was because of you.” Her voice dropped as she nuzzled the baby’s head. “It’s always been about you.”
His voice seemed to come from far-off when he said, “Then why didn’t you tell me the truth about why you were here?”
“Because I came to know you.” She met his eyes again, willing him to understand. “I saw that even though I’d come to bring you a dream come true, it was my dream come true, and not yours. You wouldn’t be happy away from Everland. But you would still feel obligated to your father—I knew once you knew how much he missed you, your heart would force you to go to him.”
To her surprise, a gentle smile split his face. “And by hiding the truth from me, you thought to save me that decision? To save me that heartache?”
Her relief caused her to gasp and tears to form once more. “You knew? You understand?”
Slowly, softly, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her and Antonia. “Not until just a few minutes ago. I don’t like the fact you didn’t feel comfortable telling me the truth, but I understand why you did it.” Then he took a deep breath, one she felt throughout her entire body. “And I love you for it.”
If he hadn’t had his arms around her, she might’ve sunk to the floor then, so great was her joy and her relief. “Really?” she asked, her face so close to his. “You mean that?”
“The part about understanding, or the part about loving you?”
“Both. Either!” She was crying as much as she was grinning now.
“Both.” He kissed her left eyebrow, then her right one. “I’ve loved you since I was a little boy. I fell in love all over again when you showed up like an avenging angel to save me from that lynch mob. I love the way you take charge of everything—your life, my life—because you want the best for everyone.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I love the way you accepted my dreams were different from yours, and you took the time to appreciate them.” He kissed her tear-stained left cheek. “And I love the way you came to love my dreams.” He kissed her right cheek.
Pulling back slightly, arms still around both of them, he smiled. “I love you, Pea. You’ve always been in my heart.”
And when he kissed her lips, her heart went soaring. She was standing there in the middle of a small-town jail, being kissed by a man who worked from sunup to sundown for his family…and she couldn’t be happier. Couldn’t be more in love.
Which maybe explained why she was still crying.
Several minutes went by before Antonia began to squirm and babble, and they broke away with awkward laughs. Micah’s eyes were dark with desire, and she was breathing heavier than usual.
A grin tugged the corners of his lips up—those sensual, wonderful lips! “That’s the first time I’ve kissed a girl who was bawling like a baby.”
“I can’t help it.” She sniffed as she wiped at her eyes. “I never cry.”
“I will correct you, mi amor. You never cried in your old life.” He took the baby from her, returning Antonia to his shoulder. “Here in Everland, you’ll find lots to cry about.”
“Is that a threat?” She smiled, trying to get her tears under control.
“A promise. You’ll cry in frustration at the children’s antics. You’ll cry for friends’ joys and losses. You’ll cry in reverence the first time I make love to you.”
He said that last part so seriously her eyes widened. Then she burst into laughter and threw her arms around both Micah and Antonia. “I think I’m going to love your life as much as I love you, Micah Zapato.”
“And I’m going to love giving you a new dream, Mrs. Zapato.”
She began to cry again—in joy, of course—right before his smiling lips met hers.
Micah’s heart couldn’t get any fuller as he stepped outside the jail, his arm around Pea and the baby against his shoulder. The sun was sinking in the western sky, and the underside of the clouds were tinted with pinks and purples. He breathed in the scents of coo
king dinners, fresh grass, and the baby’s skin. This is home.
Beside him, Pea sniffled once, but she was smiling when she met his eyes. “You really mean it, Micah?”
Their conversation over the last few minutes had been interrupted a few times, by the best kisses he’d ever experienced. So it was understandable she hadn’t quite followed along.
“Of course, mi amor.” He dropped a kiss to her lips, just for emphasis. “I’ll have to contact my father—and I know you’ll help me—but I want to live here. I hope he’ll be able to understand that.”
He’d expected her to assure him Andrew Prince was a good man, but instead, her eyebrows drew together.
“I hope so. He’s a very determined man.”
She should know, he thought. Still, all he said was, “So am I. Especially when I’m fighting for my family.”
Just then, two women crossed in front of the couple. They startled Micah, and he told himself he probably hadn’t been paying attention; it wasn’t as if they’d actually appeared out of thin air. The one beaming at him and Pea was short and round, with a giant wart on her chin, while her companion wore close-cropped red hair and a scowl.
“There! Look, look!” The be-warted was pointing at them enthusiastically. “I told you it would work, didn’t I? I told you burning down the orphanage wouldn’t go to waste.”
What? Before Micah could figure out how to respond, her grumpy-looking companion growled something under her breath.
Then the red-haired woman stepped forward and spoke directly to Micah. “I am so sorry about all of this, Mr. Zapato.”
“All of what?”
He looked down at Pea, but she wasn’t able to offer him any clues. She was much too busy glaring at the still-nodding woman with the wart.
“The fire,” the grumpy-looking one said with a sigh. “We tried to tell her it was too drastic and dangerous, just to force Penelope’s hand, but—”
“It worked, didn’t it?” the other woman shrieked.
