by BETH KERY
If there was one thing she knew about Ryan, it was that he worried about her. He’d feel responsible if he asked her to continue the marriage for the sake of the baby and him having the family he’d always wanted, knowing all along that he risked hurting her because she’d truly fallen for him.
She’d made that risky choice, and returned home with her heart on her sleeve, so to speak. And then...
The image of the woman’s red fingernails clutching at Ryan’s naked shoulders flashed into her mind’s eye like a visual slap to the face. Suddenly she knew for a fact that had been Melanie who had been calling Ryan for the past several days. A pain went through her and faded to a dull, cramp-like ache. She clutched at her abdomen, applying a slight pressure, trying to soothe it.
So that had been Melanie Shane. Jesse’s lover.
She’d certainly seemed close to Ryan, as well.
Ryan had insisted she’d misunderstood what she’d seen, but what she’d seen had been pretty damn inflammatory.
Since Melanie had contacted her by email, breaking the news about her affair with Jesse, Faith had imagined the other woman countless times. She knew it’d been stupid, but she defied any wife who discovered that her husband had been cheating not to wonder about the other woman.
Imagining Jesse with Melanie Shane had been nothing...absolutely nothing to seeing Ryan holding her.
The vision of the lake blurred before her eyes. Faith opened the car door and vomited. Another cramp went through her. She bent over in the car seat, gasping for air.
For the first time real fear pierced her chaotic emotional state.
Chapter Fourteen
Ryan plowed through the doors leading to the Acute Care Unit at Harbor Town Memorial, barely moving in time to stop from plowing into a maid’s cart and knocking over all her supplies.
“Sorry,” he said, not pausing to stop in his rapid forward motion. “Is the Acute Care Unit down that way?” he asked the startled maid, pointing toward the hallway to the left. The woman nodded, her eyes wide.
Ryan plunged down the hallway, ignoring the nurses’ station.
“Sir. Can I help you?” one of the nurses called after him, standing. “Sir, you’re going to have to come back here!”
“It’s all right,” Ryan heard a woman say. “Ryan!”
He paused, panting. He didn’t want to stop until he located Faith, but whoever this was knew his name. Maybe she knew which room was Faith’s—
God, let her be all right, he thought as he whipped around.
“Dr. Feingold,” he said, recognizing Faith’s obstetrician as she came toward him. “What happened? Where is she? Is she okay?”
“Yes,” Dr. Feingold said firmly, staring straight at him as she approached, as if she wanted to make sure she had his complete attention. “She’s absolutely fine. And so is the baby.”
Ryan exhaled raggedly. He’d been in a panic ever since he’d received the phone call from an intake nurse at the Emergency Room at Harbor Town Hospital.
I’m afraid your wife came into the E.R. earlier. She’d been experiencing some pretty severe cramping and spotting. We’ve contacted Dr. Feingold, your wife’s obstetrician. She’s on staff here at Harbor Town Memorial. The doctor has arrived and has ordered a series of tests. She’d like to admit Faith. That’s all we know right now, sir, the nurse had added when Ryan had demanded to know if Faith would be all right.
He’d driven to Harbor Town in record time, the entire time his brain ablaze with wild concern and regrets. What if something terrible happened to Faith and he’d never told her he loved her? If there was one thing he’d thought he’d had on his side, it was time. Surely Faith would learn to trust him, the more time they spent together. Surely she’d gain faith that the only thing he wanted to do was to see her happy...to know she was loved.
Her shattered expression as she’d stood there looking at Melanie Shane in his arms earlier rose up to haunt him. That was the reason she’d grown ill. He hadn’t intended to hurt her in any way, but he had, nevertheless.
“I want to see her,” Ryan demanded. “Where is she, Dr. Feingold?”
“She’s resting. She’s in Room 212. But why don’t you sit down over here for a second with me. You look very shaken up. I’ll explain about the test results.”
Renewed terror tore through him. “You said she’d be all right.”
“And she will be,” Dr. Feingold assured, urging him to sit down next to her on a bench. Ryan sat stiffly.
“What happened?” Ryan asked.
“She was having some breakthrough bleeding and some cramping. She was right to come into the Emergency Room. We did all the routine tests, though, and everything is fine, both with Faith and the fetus.”
“Why was she bleeding then?”
“It’s not uncommon. Lots of women have spotting while they’re pregnant. It was more the cramping I was concerned about, but as it turns out, Faith had vomited. Her cramps were more associated with an upset stomach than the baby.”
Ryan nodded numbly. “She was upset,” he mumbled, his gaze turning down the hallway. “I have to see her, Dr. Feingold.”
“All right. Just try to keep her calm. I’m going to keep her overnight, just for observation. She can go home in the morning.”
Ryan nodded, barely hearing the doctor, his entire focus on seeing Faith.
* * *
Faith stared out the hospital room window. Light was fading. It would soon be night. It was funny, how a scare like the one she’d just been through made you reconsider so much, really made you appreciate the things you daily overlooked and took for granted, like the beauty of a new day or the simple touch or smile of a loved one. A visit to the hospital really made you think about what was important, and what wasn’t.
She turned eagerly at the sound of the knock at her door.
“Ryan,” she called, smiling. Tears burned in her eyelids. He looked so tall and straight and wonderful...and worried, she realized regretfully as he entered the room.
“I’m so glad to see you,” she said, a rush of love going through her at the sight of him. “The baby is going to be okay. Did anyone tell you?”
She couldn’t quite read his expression as he came next to the bed.
“Ryan? Did you hear me?” she asked. “The baby is going to be fine.”
His dark eyes looked desperate...a little wild.
“I only wanted to know you were all right,” he said.
For a few seconds they just stared at each other. What he’d said had pierced straight to her heart. Why had she been so certain he was only interested in her out of pity because of Jesse’s infidelities or because she carried his child? How else could she possibly interpret the worry and love pouring out of his eyes at this very minute?
“Oh, Ryan, I’m so sorry about running off like that without letting you explain. It’s just...Jesse...and Melanie...and seeing you holding her,” she choked out tearfully.
“She’s been trying to get in contact with me because she’s carrying around a guilt complex about the crash. She feels responsible.”
Faith froze. “Was she?”
“No. It’s not uncommon for a pilot to feel that way after an accident. I’m not best friends with Melanie or anything, but I do feel bad for her. It’s hard for a pilot not to feel compassion for another one in that situation. It’s all of our worst nightmare. Anyway, Melanie misses Jesse and was breaking down when you walked in. I’ve been telling her it was inappropriate for her to come to your house, but she’s been so persistent—”
“I figured it was probably something like that, once I had the chance to really think about it. Being in the hospital like this, feeling terrified that something was wrong with the baby...well, it really gives you a chance to reflect on things,” she said, sobbing softly.
“Don’t get upset, honey. Please,” Ryan implored.
“No, no, it’s okay. I’m all right. I’m just sorry for judging you like that.”
“It’s okay
,” he said, his heart plastered all over his usually impassive, top-gun facade. He set his hip on the bed and hugged her tightly.
“Oh, Ryan, I love you,” she said in a pressured fashion against his shirt.
“I love you, too, Faith,” he said, running his hand over her hair, soothing her. “I think I’ve been in love with you since Christmas Eve. At first I doubted what I was feeling. Later, after I returned to Michigan, I started to trust in it. But I could tell you weren’t going to buy it after all you’d been through with Jesse...with me...with us falling for each other so hard and so fast.”
She sniffed and rubbed her cheek against his shirt. “I should have trusted you, Ryan. I should have trusted this,” she said, hugging him closer to her.
He cupped her head in his hand, urging her to lean her head back. She did so, never finding the sight of his face so compelling as she did at that moment, with his love exposed.
“I told myself all we needed was time,” he said. “I knew I could gain your trust...your love if I just had the time to prove myself to you. After today I realized that I might never have any of those things.”
“No,” she whispered fervently, hating the haunted look that shadowed his rugged features. She pressed her lips to his warmly. “You have all those things—time, trust and love. My love, most of all.”
Epilogue
Ethan Kassim Itani’s first day at the new house on Sycamore Avenue was the family’s first day, as well. It felt like living a miracle to Faith to walk into their beautiful new home carrying her beautiful new son.
“I’ll take him, so you can look around better,” Ryan said quietly when they reached the landing at the top of the stairs of the house.
“Oh, Ryan,” Faith whispered as she looked at the newly polished floors and painted walls. The house on Sycamore Avenue had been beautiful when they’d viewed it four and a half months ago, but what Ryan had done to it in the meantime made it downright stunning.
“I can’t believe it, you painted the hallway and put in the wall sconces,” she breathed, glancing around in wonder. “You’ve been working too hard, doing this and everything with the business, too,” she admonished as she turned to hand him the bundle in her arms. She looked down into Ethan’s tiny face as Ryan took him. The baby wrinkled his nose and made a pursing movement with his mouth before he resumed sleeping again. Faith glanced up into Ryan’s face and they shared a smile.
“The most gorgeous baby in the world, the most beautiful house and the most wonderful husband,” Faith whispered. “How is it possible for one woman to feel so much happiness at once?”
“Does that mean you can’t take any more?”
She grinned and narrowed her gaze on him. “What do you mean?” she asked suspiciously. “Did you finish the nursery?”
His grin widened. He led her down the hallway. She gasped when she walked into the room. Faith had insisted on putting up the stenciling for the wall mural, even though she wouldn’t be able to actually paint it until after the baby was born, so that part remained unfinished. Ryan had completed every other possible conceivable detail of the nursery, however. The walls were painted in a rich cobalt-blue, the white furniture they’d chosen contrasting with it handsomely. She walked over to the finished, dark walnut shelving unit that Ryan had fashioned, admiring the gleaming wood and all the useful cabinets and shelves.
Tears smarted in her eyes when she turned to face her husband and son.
“It’s perfect. It’s absolutely perfect,” she said.
“Come here,” he said, his gaze on her warm. She hugged him around his waist, careful not to wake Ethan. She smiled at her beautiful boys.
“Should we see how Ethan likes his new cradle?” she asked. Ryan nodded and she watched, spellbound, as he laid the baby inside and gently covered him.
He turned and took Faith into his arms.
“To think,” she whispered. “You used to sleep in this room at night and dream about the next day’s summertime adventure.”
A smile tilted Ryan’s mouth. Warmth and love suffused every pore of her being when Ryan leaned down and fastened his mouth to hers.
“And one day,” he said quietly next to her upturned lips a moment later, “Ethan will scheme up his own dreams, and a whole new generation of adventures will take place in Harbor Town.”
* * * * *
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Chapter One
It happened too quickly for him to even think about it.
One minute, in a moment of exasperated desperation—because he hadn’t yet bought a gift for Caroline’s birthday—Cody found himself walking into the refurbished antique store that had, up until a few months ago, been called The Tattered Saddle.
The next minute, he was hurrying across the room and managed—just in time—to catch the young woman who was tumbling off a ladder.
Before he knew it, his arms were filled with the soft curves of the same young woman.
She smelled of lavender and vanilla, nudging forth a sliver of a memory he couldn’t quite catch hold of.
That was the way Cody remembered it when he later looked back on the way his life had taken a dramatic turn toward the better that fateful morning.
When he’d initially walked by the store’s show window, Cody had automatically looked in. The shop appeared to be in a state of semi-chaos, but it still looked a great deal more promising than when that crazy old coot Jasper Fowler ran it.
Cody vaguely recalled hearing that the man hadn’t really been interested in making any sort of a go of the shop. The whole place had actually just been a front for a money-laundering enterprise. At any rate, the antique shop had been shut down and boarded up in January, relegated to collecting even more dust than it had displayed when its doors had been open to the public.
What had caught his eye was the notice Under new ownership in the window and the store’s name—The Tattered Saddle—had been crossed out. But at the moment, there was no new name to take its place. He had wondered if that was an oversight or a ploy to draw curious customers into the shop.
Well, if it was under new ownership, maybe that meant that there was new old merchandise to choose from. And that, in turn, might enable him to find something for his sister here. As he recalled, Caroline was into old things. Things that other people thought of as junk and wanted to discard, his sister saw potential and promise in.
At least it was worth a shot, Cody told himself. He had tried the doorknob and found that it gave under his hand. Turning it, he had walked in.
Glancing around, his eyes were instantly drawn to the tall, willowy figure on the other side of the room. She was wearing a long, denim-colored skirt and her shirt was more or less the same color. The young woman was precariously perched on the top step of a ladder that appeared to be none too steady.
What actually caught his attention was not that she looked like an accident waiting to happen as she stretched her taut frame out, trying to reach something that was on a higher shelf, but that with her long, straight brown hair hanging loose about her back and shoulders, for just an instant, she reminded him of Renee.
A feeling of déjà vu seized him and for a moment, his breath caught in his throat.
Balancing herself on tiptoes, Catherine Clifton, the former Tattered Sad
dle’s determined new owner, automatically turned around when she heard the little bell over the front door ring. She hadn’t anticipated any customers coming in until the store’s grand reopening. That wasn’t for a couple more days at the very least. Most likely a couple of weeks. And only if she could come up with a new name for the place.
“We’re not open for business yet,” Catherine called out.
The next thing out of her mouth was an involuntary shriek because she’d lost her footing on the ladder and both she and the ladder were heading for a collision with the wooden floor.
The ladder landed with a clatter.
Catherine, fortunately, did not.
She was saved from what could have been a very bruising fate by the very person she’d just politely banished from the premises.
Landing in the cowboy’s strong, capable arms knocked the air out of her and, along with it, anything else she might have said at that moment.
Which was just as well because she would have hated coming across like some blithering idiot. But right now, not a single coherent thought completed itself in her head. It was filled with just scattered words and a myriad of sensations.
Hot sensations.
Everything had faded into the background and Catherine was instantly and acutely aware of the man whose arms she’d landed in. The broad-shouldered, green-eyed, sandy-haired cowboy held her as if she weighed no more than a small child. The muscles on his bare arms didn’t even appear to be straining.
A tingling sensation danced through Catherine’s entire body, which was stubbornly heating up despite all of her attempts to bank the sensation—and her reaction to the man—down.
Her valiant efforts to the contrary, for just a moment, it felt as if time had stood still, freezing this moment as it simultaneously bathed her in a heretofore never experienced, all but debilitating, feeling of desire. For two cents proper, using the excuse that this rugged-looking cowboy had saved her, she would have kissed him. With feeling.
