Introductions were made—Jack’s father and stepmother, his brothers and their wives, Bryce’s fiancee, Kathy—and most of their names went out of Ashley’s head as soon as she’d heard them.
She could think of nothing—and no one—but Jack.
Jack, who’d sat silent in the backseat of his brother’s SUV all the way from the airport. Bryce, bless his heart, had tried hard to keep the conversation going, asking Ashley if her flight had been okay, inquiring about Stone Creek and what it was like there.
Ashley, as uncomfortable in her own way as Jack was in his, had given sparse answers.
She shouldn’t have come.
Just as she’d feared, Jack didn’t want her there.
The McKenzies welcomed her heartily, though, and Mrs. McKenzie—Abigail—served a meat-loaf supper so delicious that Ashley made a mental note to ask for the recipe.
Jack, seated next to her, though probably not by his own choosing, ate sparingly, as she did, and said almost nothing.
“You must be tired,” Jack’s father said to her, when the meal was over and Ashley automatically got up to help clear the table. The older man’s gaze shifted to his eldest son. “Jack, why don’t you show Ashley to her room so she can rest?”
Jack nodded, gestured for Ashley to precede him, and followed her out of the dining room.
The base of the broad, curving staircase was just ahead.
Ashley couldn’t help noticing how slowly Jack moved. He was probably exhausted. “You don’t have to—”
“Ashley,” he interrupted blandly, “I can still climb stairs.”
She lowered her gaze, then forced herself to look at him again. “I’m sorry, Jack—I—I shouldn’t have come, but—”
He drew the knuckles of his right hand lightly down the side of her cheek. “Don’t be sorry,” he said. “I guess—well—it’s hard on my pride, your seeing me like this.”
Ashley was honestly puzzled. Sure, he’d lost weight, and his color wasn’t great, but he was still Jack. “Like what?”
Jack spread his arms, looked down at himself, met her eyes again. She saw misery and sorrow in his expression. “I might be dying, Ashley,” he said. “I wanted you to remember me the way I was before.”
Ashley stiffened. “You are not going to die, Jack McCall. I won’t tolerate it.”
He gave a slanted grin. “Is that so?” he replied. “What do you intend to do to prevent it, O’Ballivan?”
“Take a pregnancy test,” Ashley said, without planning to at all.
Jack’s eyes widened. “You think you’re—?”
“Pregnant?” Ashley finished for him, lowering her voice lest the conversation carry into the nearby dining room.
“Yeah,” Jack said, somewhat pointedly.
“I might be,” Ashley said. This was yet another thing she hadn’t allowed herself to think about—until now. “I’m late. Very late.”
He took her elbow, squired her up the stairs with more energy than he’d shown since she’d come face-to-face with him at O’Hare. “Is that unusual?”
“Yes,” Ashley whispered, “it’s unusual.”
He smiled, and a light spread into his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “You’re not just saying this, are you? Trying to give me a reason to live or something like that?”
“If you can’t come up with a reason to live, Jack McCall,” Ashley said, waving one arm toward the distant dining room, where his family had gathered, “you’re in even sorrier shape than I thought.”
He frowned. “Jack McKenzie,” he said, clearly thinking of something else. “I’m going by my real name now.”
“Well, bully for you,” Ashley said.
“‘Bully for me’?” He laughed. “God, Ashley, you should have been born during the Roosevelt administration—the Teddy Roosevelt administration. Nobody says ‘Bully for you’ anymore.”
Ashley folded her arms. “I do,” she said.
His eyes danced—it was nice to know she was so entertaining—then went serious again. “Why are you here?”
She bristled. “You know why.”
“No,” Jack said, sounding honestly mystified. “I thought we agreed that I’d come back to Stone Creek after this was all over, and we’d stay apart until then.”
Ashley’s throat constricted as she considered the magnitude of what Jack was facing. “And I thought we agreed that we love each other. Whether you live or die, I want to be here.”
Pain contorted his face. “Ashley—”
“I’m not going anywhere until I know what’s going to happen to you,” Ashley broke in. “When will you know whether the transplant worked or not?”
The change in him was downright mercurial; Jack’s eyes twinkled again, and his features relaxed. He made a show of checking his watch. “I’m expecting an email from God at any minute,” he teased.
“That isn’t funny!”
“Not much is, these days.” He took her upper arms in his hands. “Ashley, as soon as this blizzard lets up, I want you to get on an airplane and go back to Stone Creek.”
“Well, here’s a news flash for you: just because you want something doesn’t mean you’re going to get it.”
He grinned, shook his head. “Strange that I never noticed how stubborn you can be.”
“Get used to it.”
He crossed the hall, opened a door.
She peeked inside, saw a comfortable-looking room with an antique four-poster bed, a matching dresser and chest of drawers, and several overstuffed chairs.
“I won’t sleep,” she warned.
“Neither will I,” Jack responded.
Ashley turned, faced him squarely. Spoke from her heart. “Don’t die, Jack,” she said. “Please—whatever happens between us—don’t just give up and die.”
He leaned in, kissed her lightly on the mouth. “I’ll do my best not to,” he said. Then he turned and started back toward the stairs.
“Aren’t you going to bed?” Ashley asked, feeling lonely and very far from home.
“Later,” he said, winking at her. “Right now, I’m going to call drugstores until I find one that delivers during snowstorms.”
Ashley’s heart caught; alarm reverberated through her like the echo of a giant brass gong. “Are you running low on one of your medications?”
“No,” Jack answered. “I’m going to ask them to send over one of those sticks.”
“Sticks?” Ashley frowned, confused.
“The kind a woman pees on,” he explained. “Plus sign if she’s pregnant, minus if she’s not.”
“That can wait,” Ashley protested. “Have you looked out a window lately?”
“I’ve got to know,” Jack said.
“You’re insane.”
“Maybe. Good night, Ashley.”
She swallowed. “Good night,” she said. Stepping inside the guestroom, she closed the door, leaned her forehead against it, and breathed deeply and slowly until she was sure she wouldn’t cry.
Her handbag and suitcase had already been brought upstairs. Sinking down onto the side of the bed, Ashley rummaged through her purse until she found the cell phone she’d bought on a wave of technological confidence, after she’d finally mastered her computer.
She dialed her own number at the bed-and-breakfast, and Melissa answered on the first ring.
“Ashley?” The twin-vibe strikes again.
“Hi, Melissa. I’m here—in Chicago, I mean—and I’m—I’m fine.”
“You don’t sound fine,” Melissa argued. “How’s Jack?”
“He looks terrible, and I don’t think he’s very happy that I’m here.”
“Oh, Ash—I’m sorry. Was the bastard rude to you?”
Ashley smiled, in spite of everything. “He’s not a bastard, Melissa,” she said, “and no, he hasn’t been rude.”
“Then—?”
“I think he’s given up,” Ashley admitted miserably. “It’s as if he’s decided to die and get it over with. And he doesn’t wa
nt me around to see it happen.”
“Look, maybe you should just come home—”
“I can’t. We’re socked in by the perfect storm. I’ve never seen so much snow—even in Stone Creek.” She paused. “And I wouldn’t leave anyway. How’s everything there?”
“It’s fine. I’ve had to turn away at least five people who wanted to book rooms for Valentine’s Day weekend.” Melissa still sounded worried. “You do realize that you might be there a while? Do you have enough money, Ash?”
“No,” Ashley said, embarrassed. “Not for a long haul.”
“I can help you out if you need some,” Melissa offered. “Brad, too.”
Ashley gulped down her O’Ballivan pride, and it wasn’t easy to swallow. “I’ll let you know,” she said, with what dignity she had left. “Do me a favor, will you? Call Tanner and Olivia and let them know I got here okay?”
“Sure,” Melissa said.
They said their goodbyes soon after that, and hung up.
As tired as she was, Ashley knew she wouldn’t sleep.
She took a bath, brushed her teeth and put on her pajamas.
She watched a newscast on the guestroom TV, waited until the very end for the weather report.
More snow on the way. O’Hare was shut down, and the police were asking everyone to stay off the roads except in the most dire emergencies.
At quarter after ten, a knock sounded on Ashley’s door.
“It’s me,” Jack called, in a loud whisper. “Can I come in?”
Before Ashley could answer, one way or the other, the door opened and he stepped inside, carrying a white bag in one hand.
“Nothing stops the post office or pharmacy delivery drivers,” he said, holding out the bag.
The pregnancy test, of course.
Ashley’s hand trembled as she reached out to accept it. “Come back later,” she said, moving toward her bathroom door.
Jack sat down on the side of her bed. “I’ll wait,” he said.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
HUDDLED IN THE MCKENZIES’ guest bathroom, Ashley stared down at the plastic stick in mingled horror and delight.
A plus sign.
She was pregnant.
Ashley made some rapid calculations in her head; normally, if she hadn’t been under stress, it would have been a no-brainer to figure out that the baby was due sometime in September. Because she was frazzled, it took longer.
“Well?” Jack called from the other side of the door. As a precaution, Ashley had turned the lock; otherwise, he might have stormed in on her, he was so anxious to learn the results.
Ashley swallowed painfully. She was bursting with the news, but if she told Jack now, she would, in effect, be trapping him. He’d feel honor-bound to marry her, whether he really wanted to or not.
And suppose he died?
That, of course, would be awful either way.
But maybe knowing about the baby would somehow heal Jack, inspire him to try harder to recover. To believe he could.
The knob jiggled. “Ashley?”
“I’m all right.”
“Okay,” Jack replied, “but are you pregnant?”
“It’s inconclusive,” Ashley said, too earnestly and too cheerfully.
“I read the package. You get either a plus or a minus,” Jack retorted, not at all cheerful, but very earnest. “Which is it, Ashley?”
Ashley closed her eyes for a moment, offered up a silent prayer for wisdom, for strength, for courage. She simply wasn’t a very good liar; Jack would see through her if she tried to deceive him. And, anyway, deception seemed wrong, however good her intentions might be. The child was as much Jack’s as her own, and he had a right to know he was going to be a father.
“It’s—it’s a plus.”
“Open the door,” Jack said. Was that jubilation she heard in his voice, or irritation? Joy—or dread?
Ashley pushed the lock button in the center of the knob, and stepped back quickly to avoid being run down by a man on a mission. She was still holding the white plastic stick in one hand.
Jack took it from her, examined the little panel at one end, giving nothing away by his expression. His shoulders were tense, though, and his breathing was fast and shallow.
“My God,” he said finally. “Ashley, we made a baby.”
“You and me,” Ashley agreed, sniffling a little.
Jack raised his eyes to hers. She thought she saw a quickening there, something akin to delight, but he looked worried, too. “You weren’t going to tell me?” he asked. “I wouldn’t exactly describe a plus sign as ‘inconclusive.’”
“I didn’t know how you’d react,” Ashley said. She still couldn’t read him—was he glad or sad?
“How I’d react?” he echoed. “Ashley, this is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, besides you.”
Ashley stared at him, stricken to silence, stricken by joy and surprise and a wild, nearly uncontainable hope.
“You do want this baby, don’t you?” Jack asked.
“Of course I do,” Ashley blurted. “I wasn’t sure you did, that’s all.”
Jack looked down at the stick again, shaking his head and grinning.
“I peed on that, you know,” Ashley pointed out, reaching for the test stick, intending to throw it away.
Jack held it out of her reach. “We’re keeping this. You can glue it into the kid’s baby book or something.”
“Jack, it’s not sanitary,” Ashley pointed out. Why was she talking about trivial things, when so much hung in the balance?
“Neither are wet diapers,” Jack reasoned calmly. “Sanitation is all well and good, but a kid needs good old-fashioned germs, too, so he—or she—can build up all the necessary antibodies.”
“You don’t have to marry me if you don’t want to,” Ashley said, too quickly, and then wished she could bite off her tongue.
“Sure, I do,” Jack said. “Call me old-fashioned, but I think a kid ought to have two legal parents.”
“Sure, you have to marry me, or sure, you want to?” Ashley asked.
“Oh, I want to, all right,” Jack told her, his voice hoarse, his eyes glistening. “The question is, do you want to spend the rest of your life with me? You could be a widow in six months, or even sooner. A widow with a baby to raise.”
“Not if you fight to live, Jack,” Ashley said.
He looked away, evidently staring into some grim scenario only he could see. “There’s plenty of money,” he said, as though speaking to someone else. “If nothing else, I made a good living doing what I did. You would never want for anything, and neither would our baby.”
“I don’t care about money,” Ashley countered honestly, and a little angrily, too. I care about you, and this baby, and our life together. Our long, long life together. “I love you, remember?”
He set the test stick carefully aside, on the counter by the sink, and pulled Ashley out into the main part of the small suite. “I can’t propose to you in a bathroom,” he said.
Ashley laughed and cried.
Awkwardly, Jack dropped to one knee, still holding her hand. “I love you, Ashley O’Ballivan. Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she said.
He gave an exuberant shout, got to his feet again and pulled her into his arms, practically drowning her in a deep, hungry kiss.
The guestroom door popped open.
“Oops,” Dr. McKenzie the elder said, blushing.
Jack and Ashley broke apart, Jack laughing, Ashley embarrassed and happy and not a little dazed.
Bill looked even more chagrined than before. “I heard a yell and I thought—”
“Everything’s okay, Dad,” Jack said, with gruff affection. “It’s better than okay. I just asked Ashley to marry me, and she said yes.”
“I see,” Bill said, smiling, and quietly closed the door.
A jubilant “Yes!” sounded from the hallway. Ashley pictured her future father-in-law punching the air with one fist, a heartening thought.<
br />
“I still might die,” Jack reminded her.
“Welcome to the human race,” Ashley replied. “From the moment any of us arrive here, we’re on our way out again.”
“I’d like to make love to you right now,” Jack said.
“Not here,” Ashley answered. “I couldn’t—not in your dad’s house.”
Jack nodded slowly. “You’re as old-fashioned as I am,” he said. “As soon as this storm lets up, though, we’re out of here.”
They sat down, side by side, on the bed where both of them wanted to make love, and neither intended to give in to desire.
Not just yet, anyway.
“How soon can we get married?” Jack asked, taking her hand, stroking the backs of her knuckles with the pad of his thumb.
Ashley’s heart, full to bursting, shoved its way up into her throat and lodged there. “Wait a second,” she protested, when she finally gathered the breath to speak. The aftershocks of Jack’s kiss were still banging around inside her. “There are things we have to decide first.”
“Like?”
“Like where we’re going to live,” Ashley said, nervous now. She liked Chicago, what little she’d seen of the place, that is, but Stone Creek would always be home.
“Wherever you want,” Jack told her quietly. “And I know that’s the old hometown. Just remember that your family isn’t exactly wild about me.”
“They’ll get over it,” Ashley told him, with confidence. “Once they know you’re going to stick around this time.”
“Just try shaking me off your trail, lady,” Jack teased. He leaned toward her, kissed her again, this time lightly, and in a way that shook her soul.
“Does that mean you won’t go back to whatever it is you do for a living?” Ashley ventured.
“It means I’m going to shovel snow and carry out the trash and love you, Ashley. For as long as we both shall live.”
Tears of joy stung her eyes. “That probably won’t be enough to keep you busy,” she fretted. “You’re used to action—”
“I’m sick of action. At least, the kind that involves covert security operations. Vince can run the company, along with a few other people I trust. I can manage it from the computer in your study.”
“I thought you didn’t trust Vince anymore,” Ashley said.
Holiday in Stone Creek Page 34
