His-And-Hers Family

by Helen Lacey

  He wanted to reassure her that she was nothing like her mother. But she looked as though she was about to collapse, and if she was pregnant, the last thing she needed was stress. “I’ll... Sure. I’ll leave you alone. Promise me you’ll think about it?”

  She clutched her arms to her chest. “There’s nothing to think about. We don’t even know if I’m pregnant.”

  Then marry me anyway.

  But he’d had about as much rejection as he could take.

  It took about sixty seconds to grab the remainder of his clothes and shove his feet into the dress shoes. When he returned to the living area, he noticed she hadn’t moved. Wyatt didn’t bother saying anything and strode from the guesthouse.

  By the time he reached the pool area, he’d calmed down. His parents were there, seated under the annex, sipping coffee and sharing the morning paper. If they were surprised to see him emerge from the direction of the guesthouse, half-dressed, a thunderous expression on his face, they didn’t

  show it.

  He stopped by the pool gate and watched them. In their own world, together, they shared something unique. A bond, he knew, which grew stronger with every touch, with every moment they spent in one another’s company. A bond that would never be broken. And they had been married for thirty-five years, through loss, grief, joy. Through it all. Together.

  It was simply...love.

  At that moment, like a lightning bolt searing across his skin, Wyatt realized that he did believe in love and didn’t just want and need Fiona... It was more than that. Much more. He loved her. Wholly. Completely. And for the entire time he’d been trying to convince her to marry him, not once had he said the words.

  And that just wouldn’t do.

  * * *

  Fiona had no intention of waiting around to pee on a stick with Wyatt breathing down her neck. If she were pregnant, she wanted to be on her own turf when she found out. She was going home. She would go back to Crystal Point and figure out her next move. A thousand miles away from him.

  She marched to the bedroom, making special effort to not look at the crumpled bed.

  Marry him? Yeah, right. She wasn’t a charity case. She could do it on her own. She pulled jeans and a T-shirt from the dresser and shoved the rest of her clothes into her case.

  The jeans still fit. Ha...she probably wasn’t pregnant at all.

  Not that she’d be showing at just a few weeks along. But still... That only made her burst into tears like some kind of hormonal wreck.

  Fiona quickly pulled herself together and rubbed her face. She’d have plenty of time to cry when she was alone, tucked up in her little house with only Muffin for company. But she had Callie and Evie and M.J. Her friends would support her. And she’d see Cecily during school breaks. It would be enough.

  But inside, in the deepest part of her heart, she was breaking. She wasn’t sure how, but the past few days had somehow blurred into a real life. My real life. It was as though, by miracle or chance, she finally belonged somewhere and to someone. And not just Wyatt or Cecily but to all the Harpers. They’d embraced her, shown kindness and consideration. She felt accepted, understood and part of something real. Silly, perhaps, but after only a few days, they actually felt like family.

  The family she’d never had. And the family she’d always wanted.

  Which was why she’d had to turn down Wyatt’s proposal. Marrying him to make a family wouldn’t be right. Tempting...but dishonest. And she wasn’t like that. Besides, he hadn’t said anything about loving her. They’d made love—which was about physical need and not enough to sustain a marriage. She wanted his love. Nothing else would do for her. More to the point, perhaps for the first time in her life, Fiona believed she deserved love.

  She touched her belly, and tears filled her eyes again. She wanted Wyatt’s baby so much. If she were pregnant, she vowed to love and cherish his child with all her heart. Knowing Cecily wasn’t upset about the idea of a new baby only made her cry more. Her daughter possessed a generous, forgiving spirit, and she said a silent thank-you to Karen Todd for nurturing her into such an amazing person. She owed it to the other woman’s memory to always do right by the daughter they both loved.

  Still crying, Fiona collected her things from the bathroom and made the bed, ignoring the memories flashing through her mind when she recalled what she had done with Wyatt between the sheets only hours before. When she was done, she grabbed her bag and left the room.

  Only, she hadn’t expected to find Wyatt standing in the center of the living room, still wearing his unbuttoned shirt. He stared at her. She dropped her bag and stared back and suddenly didn’t care that he saw her tears.

  “I was thinking,” he said quietly, deeply, almost uncertainly, as if his voice might break, “that if you don’t want to marry me because we might have made a baby together...even though having a baby with you would just about be the greatest thing I could imagine happening...” He paused, took a breath. “And if you don’t want to marry me even if it would make Cecily really happy, and after everything she’s been through, she deserves all the happiness we could give her... If that’s not enough...I was thinking that maybe...” He stopped again and swallowed hard. “Maybe you’ll marry me because I love you.”

  Poleaxed, Fiona’s feet stuck to the carpet. She stared at him, into him, through to his soul. “I... But I...”

  “Of course, if you don’t love me—”

  “I do,” she said on a rush and hardly dared to breathe in. So, she’d gone and done it now. “I do love you.”

  “I think I know that now,” he said, so quiet, so still. “Last night...last night I watched you defend me so courageously to Yvette. I listened while you talked about love and I knew you would only do that if you loved me.”

  Completely outed, Fiona knew there was little point in denying it any longer. “I’m sorry, Wyatt. I didn’t mean to fall in love with you. Right from the beginning, I knew it was supposed to be just about Cecily. But the more time we spent together the more I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and suddenly I had all these feelings inside me that I didn’t know what to do with. And then we made love and it just got...worse.”

  “Worse?”

  She shrugged. “Stronger. But I—”

  “Do you know when I first fell in love with you?” he asked softly as he came toward her and took her hands. “I didn’t recognize it for what it was at the time. That day we went walking toward the beach, remember? We were talking and you were laughing and I remember all I wanted to do was hold your hand. Like this,” he said and linked their fingers intimately.

  Fiona’s heart almost burst through her chest. “You really love me? You’re not just saying that because you think I might be pregnant? You didn’t say anything before—”

  He raised her hands and kissed her knuckles. “I was an idiot before. I’m in love with you, Fiona. But if you don’t want to get married, I can wait until—”

  “Oh, I do,” she said, happy, delirious, terrified. “I want to marry you so much.” She looked up, still uncertain. “But you said you wanted to go slow?”

  He urged her closer and his bare chest was warm where they connected. “I don’t want to go slow. I want you beside me every day. All the fears I had about rushing into something again, about making a mistake...you know what? That stuff doesn’t matter to me anymore. I made a big mistake with Yvette. One I can’t take back. I shouldn’t have proposed marriage. I wasn’t in love with her.” He sighed resignedly. “Maybe she knew that. Maybe that’s why she ended up with Jim. I don’t know, and frankly, I’m tired of thinking about it. I only want to think about you. About us.”

  Us. Fiona’s heart sang. Tears came again. “No one has ever loved me.”

  His eyes glittered and he wrapped his arms around her. “I love you. I want you. I need you.”

  “You sai
d that last night,” she reminded him, safe, secure. “I thought it was about sex.”

  Wyatt grabbed her chin and tilted her head back. “I love making love to you. But that’s part of loving someone, I guess. I love everything you are, everything we’ll be together.”

  “Will your family be okay with it?”

  He smiled and kissed her gently. “My family, especially my parents, adore you,” he said against her mouth. “And will love you even more when we supply them with the first Harper grandchild to carry on the family name.”

  She eased back. “But what if I’m not pregnant? Will you still want to—”

  “If it’s meant to be, it will happen,” he said and kissed her again. “We don’t even have to find out today if you don’t want to. I can wait. I want to have kids, Fiona, but we have time to get to know one another first. Although, I can’t imagine anyone knowing me as well as you already do.”

  He was right about that. They had a strong connection, apparent from the very first. And nothing, she knew in her deepest heart, would ever break it. “I’ll never knowingly hurt you, Wyatt. You have my promise.”

  “I know, sweetheart. And I want you to have a beautiful wedding—everything you’ve ever dreamed it to be.”

  “Mariah Downs,” she whispered. “You knew what I was thinking about that, about us?”

  “I knew,” he said and kissed her forehead gently. “I want that, too. So, we’ll get married there and I’ll take you anywhere you want to go for a honeymoon. When we get back, I want to build you a house on that land I told you about so Cecily can come live with us, and I can drive home every night and see your lovely face when I walk through the door. And you can bring your dog and that horse you cherish.”

  Muffin? Titan? “I’ll have to move,” she said in a vague kind of way. “Again.”

  “Do you mind?” he asked as his expression narrowed. “Leaving Crystal Point, your job, your friends...will you be able to do that?”

  Fiona wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’ve moved before. I can do it again. And anyway, my friends are in Crystal Point. But my family is here.”

  Wyatt’s embrace tightened. “You’re right. The both of us...Cecily—” his hand dropped to her belly and he splayed his palm over her “—and this tiny life we might have made together.”

  “You’d really be happy if we had a baby? I mean, so soon?”

  He smiled. “We can add to our family whenever you’re ready and as many times as you’d like.”

  Fiona’s heart almost burst through her rib cage. All her old fears somehow disappeared. Along with the lingering resentment she had for the mother who hadn’t really wanted her. Shayne was forgotten. Jamie Corbett was forgotten. In her arms stood her future. The past suddenly seeped away.

  “Three more kids,” she said, laughing and crying, too. “Shall we go to the store and buy one of those tests?”

  Wyatt grinned and looked so happy it brought fresh tears to her eyes. “Absolutely. But let’s tell my folks and Cecily we’re getting married first.”

  He grabbed her hand and they walked from the guesthouse, laughing and kissing.

  And into the kind of love Fiona had always wished for.

  Epilogue

  Fiona pulled the satin wrap around her waist and sat on the edge of the bed. Her gown looked beautiful hanging on the closet door and she let out a long, wistful sigh.

  This is my wedding day.

  The guesthouse at Waradoon had become her home for the past two months, and she would continue to live with the Harpers until the new house was built. She preferred it this way. Wyatt’s city apartment had every luxury but it was too far from Cecily. For now he commuted back to Waradoon on Friday and returned to the city each Monday. Of course, she missed him terribly, but they both wanted what was best for Cecily.

  Muffin yapped and Fiona grinned. “And yes, it’s far from you, too.”

  “You should have started getting dressed, Ma,” Cecily said in a slightly despairing voice as she raced into the bedroom. “You don’t want to keep Uncle Wyatt waiting, do you?”

  Fiona stood and smiled. “It’s tradition for the bride to keep the groom waiting,” she said and hugged her daughter, who seemed to have cornered the market on pre-wedding jitters. “And Callie and Evie will be here soon to help me get into my dress.”

  Cecily managed a smile and gently pulled back. “Don’t crease me,” she said and brushed at the pale lavender satin dress she wore, “or Nan will have a fit.”

  Fiona adjusted Cecily’s strap. “You look so beautiful.”

  Her daughter looked up, eyes glistening. “Thanks.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  Cecily shook her head. “Just happy. And...and a bit sad.”

  Fiona understood. Her daughter’s world had changed so much in a matter of months. “Are you thinking about your parents?” she asked gently.

  Cecily shrugged. “I guess. Sometimes I wish...I wish my mother could have met you.”

  “I wish that, too.”

  Cecily drew in a tight breath. “I’d just like her to know that things have, you know, worked out...for you and Uncle Wyatt. And for me.”

  She grabbed Cecily’s hand and squeezed assuringly. “You know what? I think she knows.”

  Cecily’s lip wobbled. “Maybe you’re right. And I think she’d be really happy that I’m going to have a little brother soon.”

  Fiona smiled and instinctively laid a hand on her belly. “Brother? You could be getting a sister.”

  She shrugged again. “Either is good.”

  Fiona agreed. At not quite four months along in her pregnancy, she wasn’t quite showing yet, but she’d certainly battled the dreaded morning sickness during those first couple of months. Thankfully, she was now over feeling unwell and absolutely loved being pregnant.

  At that moment, Callie came into the room, clapping her hands together. “Okay, it’s time to get ready. The limo will be here in ten minutes.”

  Evie arrived, and as she dressed in her beautiful organza-and-lace gown and was attended by her daughter and closest friends, Fiona experienced such an acute sense of happiness she had to fight back tears. I won’t cry. Not today. But moisture quickly filled her eyes.

  Thankfully, Callie was on hand with a tissue. “No more tears,” her friend said and watched as she carefully dabbed at her eyes, “or we’ll have to redo your mascara.”

  “No more. I promise,” Fiona said and quickly pulled herself together.

  Evie smiled and patted her arm. “Good—or we’ll all start blubbering.”

  They all laughed, and it was another twenty minutes before they were in the car and on their way.

  When they reached their destination, Fiona took a few deep breaths and waited wordlessly as Callie and Cecily fiddled with her veil and train and then walked with her toward the huge doorway of the beautiful estate home. To be married at Mariah Downs was truly a dream come true. The foyer had been turned into an altar hosting dozens of covered chairs and countless floral arrangements. Her friends and several work colleagues from Crystal Point were there, as were the Harpers and their extended family. As she stood beneath the threshold and waited for the music to begin, she spotted Wyatt by the stairway. He looked handsome in his dark suit as he spoke quietly to Alessio, who stood at his side as best man.

  And then the music started and he turned. As Evie and Callie made their way up the aisle in turn, she met his gaze and her heart rolled over. The love she saw in his eyes took her breath away.

  Cecily grasped her arm. “Come on, Ma, it’s time.”

  Wyatt had suggested she walk down the aisle with her daughter, and Fiona had felt the rightness of it through to her bones. When they reached the altar, Cecily took Fiona’s small posy bouquet and gave her uncle a beaming smile as she
stepped in beside Evie and Callie.

  Fiona turned toward Wyatt and he took her hand.

  “Hey, beautiful,” he said softly. “You made it.”

  “I made it,” she whispered.

  “We made it,” he said and gently squeezed her fingers.

  Every ounce of love she had for him rose up and she reached out to grab Cecily’s hand, linking them all together. “Yes, we certainly did.”

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt of A Cold Creek Noel by RaeAnne Thayne!

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  Chapter One

  “Come on, Luke. Come on, buddy. Hang in there.”

  Her wipers beat back the sleet and snow as Caidy Bowman drove through the streets of Pine Gulch, Idaho, on a stormy December afternoon. Only a few inches had fallen but the roads were still dangerous, slick as spit. For only a moment, she risked lifting one hand off the steering wheel of her truck and patting the furry shape whimpering on the seat beside her.

  “We’re almost there. We’ll get you fixed up, I swear it. Just hang on, bud. A few more minutes. That’s all.”

  The young border collie looked at her with a trust she didn’t deserve in his black eyes and she frowned, her guilt as bitter and salty as the solution the snowplows had put down on the roads.