Legacy (Capitol Chronicles Book 5)

by Shirley Hailstock

  "You look awfully happy," he told her. "I hope I'm the reason."

  Her smile grew larger. "You're always the reason," she said. "But I have other good news, wonderful news to tell you."

  "What?" He pulled her down on his lap and kissed her cheek.

  "I'll tell you later. I have a million things to tell you, but let's go home first." Michael clamped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him.

  "Just tell me you'll marry me," he said, his voice emotionally charged. "I can wait for everything except that."

  "You were willing to exchange your life for mine,” she told him. “Yes, I'll marry you."

  “I don’t want you to marry me because of that.”

  “I love you, Michael. I’ve loved you almost from the moment I saw you. That’s the reason I’ll marry you.”

  Erika lifted her mouth to his. She felt lighter than air. Michael loved her and he wanted to marry her, and she wanted to marry him. She knew there was no guarantee that things would last forever. She knew love meant sharing and risking. She'd work at loving Michael, and he'd work at it, too. As long as they shared Carlton's legacy, they had a chance for the forever kind of love.

  "Ready to go home?" she asked.

  "Ready."

  Erika handed the canvas bag to the driver when they reached the car. Michael got out of the wheelchair the hospital had insisted he ride in for being discharged. Alva Redford came to stand next to them. Michael tensed and grabbed Erika's hand. She looked at him with a smile.

  "Hello, Michael," she said. "I'm glad to see you're better." She kissed him on the cheek, then hugged Erika. Erika returned the open display of affection. When she pulled back, her eyes were bright. Both women looked at each other as if they shared a remarkable secret. Michael wanted to know what it was. He remembered what Peter had told him about Alva. He'd intended to tell Erika the last night they were together, but never got around to it. Since being shot it had slipped his mind.

  "She told you?" he asked when the limo pulled away from the curb and joined the traffic on Somerset Street.

  "You know?" Erika said.

  "I know she has a disease that causes mood swings, and that she'd had it for a long time."

  "It's incurable," Erika said, her voice hoarse. "She's going to die."

  He put his arm around her and pulled her close. She smelled of flowers and hope, and the promise of a better time.

  "She told me this morning," Erika went on. "How long have you known?"

  Michael explained his request to Peter that they check out the possible stock manipulations. The unexplained trust fund payments coincided with the dates for stock activity. It turned out to be coincidental, but in doing one he found the other.

  "Are you all right, now?" he asked.

  Erika looked up at him. "I've never been happier," she said. "I know my mother is dying, but I also know why she treated me as she did. I won't say I totally forgive her, but at least we have some time to work things out."

  Michael smiled and kissed her. He loved her ability to take the best from people, even those who treated her badly.

  "If she'd told me years ago I could have helped her, taken care of her."

  "She didn't want you to become her nurse."

  "I didn't want to be her nurse. I wanted to be her daughter." She paused. "We could have had some good times together. Some of my fears would never have been."

  "You're no longer afraid, are you? You understand that she said things she didn't mean?"

  Erika nodded. "Some of them cut deeply. I don't know that I'll be able to forget them for a long time."

  "Erika, you are a desirable woman. I love you. Don't let that doubt creep into your mind."

  She put her fingers over his mouth. "It isn't you. I know you love me and I love you. It's the children."

  "Whose children?"

  "Yours. . .mine. . .ours."

  "We can adopt children. If you don't want them, we don't have to have them. I'll be content—"

  "Michael, I can have children," she said, stopping his argument. "I mean, no one has ever said I couldn't."

  "Then, why—"

  "I was scared. I was afraid that whatever caused my mother to hate me was hereditary. And one day I’d be like her. You would hate me and our children would hate me." She stopped to smile at him. "I'm not afraid anymore. I'd love to hold my own child. When I held Roberta in my arms, I felt like a miracle had happened." Erika's voice choked.

  Michael understood her fears. In time they would all be removed. He'd feared leaving the mountain, returning to the world that had rejected him. Night after night he'd run in his dreams, trying to get away from the things that hurt him. He was no longer afraid, either. He'd put Abby to rest in his mind and he'd help Erika find out she'd be the kind of mother Alva Redford never was. She'd never do to a child what her mother had done to her.

  "A miracle has happened. Sharing is a miracle. Your mother only acted like that because of her condition, and her inability to share her concerns with you. You're not that kind of person. We'll share everything, just as Carlton's legacy required. It won't happen to you."

  "I know," Erika said. "I know mother leaned on my father. When he died, Carlton was the only person she told about her condition, and he helped her."

  Michael cradled her in his arms and held her. "He must have been a wonderful man."

  "He was. I'll tell you about him one day. You're a lot like him," she said.

  "I love you," Michael said. He shifted around on his sore arm to take her fully against him. The kiss told him everything he wanted to know. All the doubts were gone. He could feel it in her, feel the softness of her body as they united for now and all time. She was free of the fear, free to love him with all her heart and know that she had his love and they would share this legacy.

  “I love you, too.” She loved him more than she'd ever loved anyone, and if it hadn't been for her mother's condition she'd never have run away, never met Carlton, and Michael might not be part of her life. She shuddered at the thought. Michael tightened his arm around her. He didn't know the legacy Carlton had left them. Money might be one of life's true burdens, but with Michael to share her life, whatever burdens came their way were conquerable.

  THE END

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for reading Legacy! I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, please help other readers find this book:

  1. This book is lendable, so send it to a friend who you think might like it so she can discover me, too.

  2. Help others find this book by writing a review.

  3. Sign up for my new releases e-mail by contacting me at Shirley.Hailstock@comcast.net. I’ll drop you a note when my next book is available.

  4. Come like my Facebook page at www.facebook.com/shailstockfan.

  5. Join my newsletter by sending an e-mail to shirleyhailstock-subscribe@yahoogroups.com. I never send attachments to clog your mailbox.

  Life has often been likened to the concentric circles that form when we drop a stone into a pond. Each ripple touches the next, altering and changing them in some way. Erika and Michael were two stones thrown into the same pond and they couldn't prevent the effect they had on each other, the love that grew and developed, just as the circles widen and grow. The Legacy left to them brought them love, understanding, and the ability to heal.

  I hope you enjoyed sharing in their story and learning that we are all given a Legacy by those people who touch our lives.

  I receive many letters from the women and men who read my books. Some of them contain plot ideas, Version II of the book they've just read, or casting calls for the movie version, Thank you all for your generous comments and words of encouragement. I love reading your letters as much as I enjoy writing the books.

  If you'd like to hear more about Legacy, other books I've written and upcoming releases, join my newsletter or send a business size, self-addressed, stamped envelope to me at the following address:

  Shirley Hailstock

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  About the Author

  Shirley Hailstock, a bestselling, award-winning novelist, has been writing for more than ten years. Holding a Bachelor's degree in Chemistry from Howard University and a MBA in Chemical Marketing from Fairleigh Dickinson University, she left her job in the pharmaceutical industry and is now a full-time writer. Shirley is a past president of Romance Writers of America and a former officer of Women Writers of Color. She lives in New Jersey with her family.

  Discover other titles by Shirley Hailstock at Smashwords.com:

  Holding Up the World

  Mirror Image

  A Miracle for Christmas

  White Diamonds

  The Magic Shoppe

  Kwanzaa Angel

  Joy Road

  Under the Sheets

  Legacy

  Something to Remember

  For a full list of books by Shirley Hailstock check out her website at:

  http://www.ShirleyHailstock.net

  Connect with me Online:

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  Excerpt from Under the Sheets

  Most people came to Las Vegas for the gambling, but Robyn lazed outside the casinos in the arid heat of the desert. The pool had emptied of guests since she’d done her fifty laps. Susan was inside at her rehearsal, and Robyn had been given free rein to use the hotel facilities for any of her needs while she was in Las Vegas. She stretched out on one of the blue-and-white lounge chairs that framed the pool of the Mountain View Resort. Huge sunglasses protected her eyes from the glare bouncing off the water. Her one-piece bathing suit gave her a modicum of decency. In the quiet, her mind went back to Washington and her job. She pushed the thought aside. She wouldn’t think about the Major Crimes Bureau now.

  Closing her eyes, she rested a moment. Then, instinct told her she was no longer alone. She could feel someone looking at her, staring at her. Without removing the lenses, she searched the rows of chairs. She saw him at the end of the pool: a man in a blue uniform, his arms casually folded over the back of a lounge chair, and his eyes staring directly at her. Robyn stared back. She felt compelled to. She was used to seeing uniforms, due to her work at the FBI, but this was not a military man. His uniform was that of an airline. She couldn’t make out which one.

  He pulled his gaze away and let it be caught by the beauty of the distant hills. He was so still, like a bronze statue. Suddenly, Robyn wished for her camera to capture his solitary profile. Few people, who came to this gambling mecca, took the time to notice the awesome beauty of the landscape. She followed his gaze, entranced by the burnish gold and red colors that painted the rugged horizon.

  He must be a different kind of man, she thought as she gazed at him openly through her concealing glasses. He was lean and tall, over six feet. His shoulders were straight and broad, giving him an athletic look. His hair was cut short and capped by a captain’s hat.

  "There you are, Robyn." She jumped, not expecting to hear her name. "You’ve been out here entirely too long." Susan plopped down on the chair beside her, still in her leotard and footless stockings. Her body completely blocked Robyn’s view of the man who’d stared so openly at her.

  Robyn checked her watch. "It’s only been an hour."

  "An hour here is vastly different from an hour in Ocean City, Maryland."

  "Just a few more minutes and I’ll be in," she sat up, shifting to see if the man was still there. He was gone. Robyn checked the area, but she didn’t see him. He must have left as quietly as he’d arrived.

  "There isn’t time," Susan was saying. "We have a lot of work to do."

  "Work? I didn’t come here to work." Her mind was still on the uniformed officer. Where had he gone? She wondered if she’d see him again.

  "I’ve got you a job in the chorus line," Susan announced.

  Robyn stared at her for a moment then burst into laughter. Susan’s face was sober and after a moment Robyn’s sobered, too.

  "You are kidding," she stated positively.

  Susan shook her head slowly.

  "Susan, I can’t dance."

  "Yes, you can," she contradicted. "We were in the same dance class for five years, and I know you still go twice a week."

  "I don’t mean I can’t dance. I mean, I can’t dance in a show.” She spread her hands in exasperation.

  "Why not?"

  "I’m on vacation."

  "That’s not a reason."

  "I don’t want to dance."

  "Of course, you do." Susan rejected her reason.

  "No, I don’t," she protested.

  "Well, you have to. I’ve just spent half an hour convincing Bob Parker you’re the best person for the job, and you can’t let me down."

  "Susan Collins," Robyn shouted, coming to a sitting position. "We are no longer in school. You can’t keep getting me mixed up in sophomoric pranks."

  "This is not a prank, sophomoric or otherwise. One of the dancers came down with something."

  Robyn thought she was being intentionally vague.

  "She’ll be out a day or so. We only need you for one night, maybe two."

  Robyn knew what that meant. Susan had been her roommate through four years of college. They had shared the same apartment until Susan left to get married almost eighteen months ago. When her marriage broke up after a year, she gave up her teaching position and came to Las Vegas. She got a job as a dancer and had been here for the last eight months.

  "Why can’t you go on without her?" Logic rallied to Robyn’s aid.

  "This routine requires that we pair off."

  "Then, why doesn’t one of the girls sit that dance out? Like you. If you could get the night off, we’d have time to talk before your date." Robyn pulled her glasses off, excited at her counterplan, but Susan was already shaking her head.

  "A missing pair would create a hole. It would be obvious something was wrong. We’ll have all day tomorrow to talk. I don’t have a rehearsal until five o’clock." Susan’s large brown eyes pleaded with her.

  “Don’t you guys have understudies or something to that affect? This can’t be the first time this has happened?”

  “We do, but hers is out too.”

  “That sounds suspicious.”

  “It does, but regardless of the reason we need a stand-in. You’re it.”

  Robyn knew before she said it that she was going to agree. If she didn’t, Susan would argue until she got her way. "I’ll do it, Susan." Robyn stopped her friend’s happiness with a restraining hand. "But I promise you, if I make a fool of myself, I’m holding you responsible."

  If you’d like to read the rest of this book the link is below:

  Under the Sheets