For some inexplicable reason, she needed to see him leave. Closure, she supposed. Until he left, her stubborn hope would live on.
She brushed at her cheeks, smearing the tears across her face and into her hair. Sadness and pain and loss and sorrow mixed with the red-hot irritation flowing through her blood. With the precision of a brain surgeon, she focused on the anger, pried it loose and yanked it to the surface, so anger would be the emotion overriding all else.
Mad was better than misery. Mad didn’t make her want to curl up in a ball and lock out the world. Mad meant she didn’t have to acknowledge the knot of pain in the pit of her stomach.
Because…dammit! The very second she’d opened her eyes to Seth, to the picnic he’d planned, the pearl of hope in her chest had blown up like a big, fat water balloon. How else was she to feel but hopeful? Not only had he picked her flowers, but he’d tied a freaking ribbon around the stems. A romantic scene, she’d thought. Her heart had softened and warmed and silly dreams roared into her head.
But then, he’d ruined the romantic scene, the hope bubbling and percolating in her veins, by announcing they had issues and he was giving her options. Two of them. Both of which were about as appealing as…as chopped liver with a side of chocolate sauce.
“Uncluttered emotions,” she whispered in a sneer. “Unclouded judgments.”
Her temper growing, Rebecca egged it on by bringing his voice to mind. That crisp, methodical, military tenor had set her nerves on edge the instant he started in on his…options. Right then and there, she decided she would never use the horrible word option again. Ever.
And of course, with the two opt…choices he’d bestowed on her, how could she choose anything except for choice number one? Their discussion in the park had shown her up close and personal how devoted Seth was to the Air Force. She refused to be the person to take that away from him. Under any circumstance.
What she wanted to know was what had happened to choice number three? Where had the idea of marrying each other and raising their daughter together…and loving each other gone?
Unfair, the voice of Rebecca’s conscience whispered. Seth never claimed to love you. And there went her anger, swirling down the drain. Sighing, Rebecca acknowledged the truth: she couldn’t expect Seth to offer her a lifetime of love if he didn’t love her. That would be a lie and lying was bad. And really, she shouldn’t have hoped so hard that her mother was right.
Oh, God. Why can’t he love me?
A murmur of voices, too soft to discern actual words, filtered in through her open window. Seth’s and Jocelyn’s voices. The beginnings of panic, faint but irrefutable, stirred inside.
He was leaving.
Sliding to the edge of the bed, Rebecca heaved herself to a stand, her gaze planted on Seth’s car. She pressed her back against the wall and, using the curtain as camouflage, peered through the window to the ground below.
Her sister hugged Seth tight, and Seth tugged a fading purple lock of Jocelyn’s hair in return. Jocelyn stepped backward and lifted her hand in a wave, and Rebecca’s panic intensified. A sob whimpered from her throat. Seth was leaving. Right now. And there wasn’t one thing in the entire universe she could do but watch.
The knot of pain in her stomach expanded until she all but shuddered with it. The emptiness of losing Seth was…immeasurable. Impossible. Her tears fell harder, running down her cheeks and dripping into the corners of her mouth, but she didn’t care.
Why wasn’t there an option three? Why can’t he love me?
Seth opened the rear door and tossed his extra-large duffel into the backseat. Her mother’s assurances pounded in Rebecca’s head: “He’s besotted with you,” and “He very much wishes he could stay,” and finally, the worst of the lot, “What if I’m right? Are you going to let him leave without knowing for sure?”
Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.
Now crying with enough strength to severely compromise her vision, Rebecca viciously swiped at her tears. Her baby kicked hard and resolutely, as if…as if ordering her to get a move on already. Now. Before it was too late. Before Seth and Rebecca adjusted to this idiotic, lame-brained notion and made the mistake—the absolutely unredeemable mistake—of forming their lives around freaking option number one.
Okay, that was ridiculous. Once again, Rebecca was flat out losing her marbles. Because everyone knew a fetus, no matter how brilliant, wasn’t capable of kicking out her thoughts for the world to decipher. But maybe…maybe if Rebecca had a sign—just one itty-bitty sign—that Seth loved her or even that he might be able to love her, she’d put her heart on the firing line. Was that too much to ask? One measly sign for such a huge risk?
Rebecca fixated her gaze on Seth, who now stood next to the driver’s-side door. If he so much as glanced toward her window, she’d run with it. Well, she thought that would be enough to push her into action. He opened the car door and bent to climb in… Her heart crashed to her toes. Maybe the car wouldn’t start. Maybe he’d back out and hit her mailbox.
Surely, either of those could be considered a sign.
For no reason that Rebecca could see, Seth suddenly stopped midmotion and slowly straightened to a full stand. His jaw jerked up, toward her window, causing her heart to float up, up, up and away. In what seemed to be slow motion, he brought his fingers to his chest and crossed his heart with an invisible X.
She melted. She froze. She stopped thinking.
He then lifted those same fingers to his lips and blew a kiss into the air. And dang if a warm summer breeze didn’t drift in at that second and wave the curtain smack into her cheek.
A sign! This was a sign! Had to be. But…now he was getting in his car. He was leaving. No! He couldn’t leave. Not yet. She had to stop him. Okay, okay, okay. What to do? Yell? No, he was already in his car. Moving far faster than she should, Rebecca stumbled around the bed, grabbed the whistle and put it to her lips. She took to the stairs, blowing the whistle with all her might and hoping—oh, how she hoped—Jocelyn would hear and somehow stop Seth.
Reaching the bottom of the stairwell, Rebecca waddled her way to the living room and nearly collided with her sister. The whistle dropped from her mouth to the carpet.
“Where’s Seth?” Rebecca demanded. “Did you stop him?”
Jocelyn’s green eyes widened in alarm. “Are you in labor? Should I call Mom and Dad?”
“No and no.” Rebecca fisted her hands. “Where is Seth?”
“Uh…he just pulled out. Why? What’s wrong?”
“Oh, God. No, no, no. I can’t be too late,” Rebecca half cried, half wailed as she tried to push around Jocelyn, who now had a death grip on her wrists. “Did he say he was going to his parents? Is he coming back here? Did he say anything about coming back today?”
“He is going to his parents,” Jocelyn confirmed, the alarm in her eyes changing to a gleam of understanding. “If he’s stopping here again, he didn’t mention it.”
“My phone! I need to talk to Seth. I need to ask him about option number three.” Rebecca tried to free herself from her sister. “Why didn’t I think of my phone before? I could have called him from upstairs and stopped him and—”
“Is your cell in your bedroom?” At Rebecca’s frantic nod, Jocelyn finally let go. She took off running, saying, “I’ll get it, sis. Hang tight.”
It was going to be okay. It had to be okay. Bracing her arms around the bottom of her stomach for support, Rebecca weaved a jagged line toward the front door. She knew she was too late, but she had to check. Had to see for herself that Seth was gone.
And yeah, he was.
Trembles of disappointment and shock overtook her, coursing through her body and chilling her blood. Briskly rubbing her arms, Rebecca unsteadily descended the porch stairs and stared down the street. Too freaking late. And okay, she would see him again. Even if he
r phone call didn’t bring him back today, he’d return by next weekend. If not sooner.
Somehow, though, that knowledge didn’t bring her any peace.
Again, hot tears welled in her eyes. Again, she mopped them away. She hated being such a crybaby. Hated her complete loss of control over her own emotions. The last time she’d cried with such overwhelming pain had been when…when Jesse died. When the horrible realization set in that she would never see him or hear his voice again.
“This is different,” Rebecca said into the air, her voice a tangle of deep sorrow and dark regret. “Seth isn’t Jesse. Seth isn’t gone forever. This. Is. Different.”
Swiveling, she faced the house, her intent to somehow calm down so she wasn’t a fanatical freak of a mess when she talked with Seth, when she offered him her heart, when she—
Oh. The rosebushes. Seth’s ring.
A sense of conviction, of rightness, came over her, pulling her inches away from the edge of hysteria. She had to find that ring. She had to find that ring…now.
Rebecca altered her direction and strode purposefully toward the bushes, now ignoring the tears that refused to stop. The roses were in full bloom, their fragrance sweet and strong, beautiful and alive. Small, closed buds and large, open blooms swarmed the bushes, filling the natural gaps, making it near impossible to see where the ring might have fallen.
In other words, her roses were hiding Seth’s ring.
She planted her hands on her hips and considered the bushes. They might have to go. She might have to systematically cut off every last stem, flower, branch and leaf in order to find the ring. If so, she’d do it in heartbeat. Without pause or a flicker of regret.
First, though, she’d try a less drastic measure. After slowly and carefully lowering herself to her knees, Rebecca scooted as close to the first bush as possible and thrust her hands across the top layer of soil. She started in the front and worked her fingers as far back as she could, digging into the dirt, disregarding the rubbing and scratching of the thorns poking into her skin.
Every second that ticked by without feeling the smooth circle of white gold on her fingertips only served to heighten Rebecca’s need to find it. Purpose became obsession. As she intensified her search, her movements became jerkier. And though she would’ve sworn it impossible, she cried harder, her tears now a never-ending wash pouring out and down in a saturating gush of too many emotions to name.
The idea that a happily-ever-after ending with Seth wouldn’t—couldn’t—happen unless Rebecca held the diamond ring in her hand fixed in her mind with an absoluteness she didn’t question. Not locating Seth’s ring was intolerable.
“Where is it?” she sobbed, pushing her fingers deeper into the soil.
Lost as she was, she barely registered the sound of the front door opening and closing, the footsteps padding down the porch stairs, or the stunned exclamation behind her. It was the pressure of a hand on her shoulder that alerted her to Jocelyn’s presence.
“What t-took you so l-long?” Rebecca said through her incessant sobs.
“Your cell was kicked half under your bed, so it took me a few minutes to find it.” Jocelyn rubbed Rebecca’s shoulders. “But don’t worry. I already called Seth.”
“You called him? What d-did you say? Is he—”
“I told him you blew the whistle and he should return.” Jocelyn’s hands moved to Rebecca’s upper arms. Tugging lightly, she said, “Come on, sis. Let me help you inside.”
“Seth’s on his way? Now?”
“Yes, and he wasn’t that far away.” Jocelyn tugged at Rebecca’s arms again, a little stronger than before. “If he sees you under that bush, he’s going to freak out.”
“I need to find the ring first! H-Help me,” Rebecca begged. “Help me find the ring.”
“Okay, look. I wasn’t going to tell you this, but I—” A screech of tires cut Jocelyn off. She pushed out a deep sigh. “Uh-oh. He’s here.”
Chapter Thirteen
The first thing Seth saw when he pulled into Rebecca’s driveway was the woman he loved, the woman he cherished, the woman who was having his baby, half under a damn rosebush. The second was Jocelyn trying to yank her sister to her feet.
Perhaps yank was too harsh a word, but what the hell did she think she was doing? Actually, what the hell did they think they were doing? Had Jocelyn not listened when he explained that Rebecca’s balance was off-kilter? Had Rebecca forgotten she was in labor and should not, for any reason, be playing with her damn flowers?
Furious, worried, stressed beyond belief, Seth exploded from the car and stalked toward the crazy Carmichael women—both of whom owned his heart, albeit in different ways—with the sole objective of corralling the situation before it swerved completely out of control.
“Jocelyn,” he barked as he approached. “Go upstairs and retrieve Rebecca’s overnight bag. It’s in her bedroom closet. Rebecca, darlin’, I don’t know why you’re doing whatever you’re doing, but you need to stop before you give me a coronary.”
Neither woman responded to his orders or, for that matter, seemed to have heard him.
“Jocelyn,” he said again, stopping behind her. “Will you please bring me Rebecca’s overnight bag so we can go to the hospital?”
“She isn’t in labor,” Jocelyn said in a rush of anxious syllables. “She blew the whistle but she isn’t in labor, and now I can’t get her to go inside.”
It was then he became aware of the low, keening sobs erupting in thready whimpers from Rebecca. His gaze dipped over her crunched form, noting how her back quaked with each crying gasp, how her pale arms, which were thrust elbow-deep into the thorny bushes, trembled as her fingers twisted through the leaves and flowers in a desperate and focused search. Oh, hell.
“I got this, Jocelyn,” he said, jerking his jaw toward the house. Whatever was about to happen, he figured Rebecca wouldn’t want an audience. “I’ll take care of her.”
The pixie nodded. Squeezing her sister’s shoulders, she said, “Seth’s here now, Becca, so everything will be fine. You’ll see.”
Jocelyn walked toward the house and Seth folded his body to kneel beside Rebecca. “Hey, there,” he said cautiously. “Feel like telling me what we’re doing?”
She shuddered out a long, choking sob. “Go away. Come b-back in…in an hour.”
“I don’t think I’m going to be able to do that, sweetheart.” Reaching into the rosebushes, he gently gripped her wrists. “Why, if I had known how badly you wanted these bushes pruned, I’d have dealt with it for you. How about if I do that now?”
“I’m n-not pruning. Please, Seth. I need to t-talk with you, but not until…not until—” She bent her head as another series of suffocating sobs pushed to the surface.
God, he was dying here. With care, he pulled her arms free of the bushes. Scrapes and scratches were webbed from her fingers to her elbows, creating a canvas of raw pink nicks to tiny beads of red thinning into streaks of blood and dirt.
“You’re hurt.” Knots of torment and regret formed in his gut. “Baby, we need to go inside and clean these off.”
She faced him then, her eyes puffy and raw with grief. Her breaths came in quick, shallow gasps that tore his heart into shreds. “No,” she said, her voice wobbly but determined. “I’m not moving until I…until I find your r-ring. I have to, Seth. You h-have to let me.”
“No, sweetheart, you don’t.” He gave himself a mental kick in the ass. Why hadn’t he told her Jocelyn already found the damn ring? “You don’t have to look for the ring because I—”
“I have to find it. Me! Not you! I th-threw your beautiful ring away like it was g-garbage, and…and I didn’t tell you about our b-baby and I can’t fix that, Seth.” Rebecca’s face crumpled as another heart-wrenching sob burst from her lungs. “I c-can’t change that horrible, s-sel
fish mis…mistake but I can find the ring. I can fix that.”
“I forgive you, Rebecca,” he said in a strong, clear voice. She needed to hear him, needed to believe him. “And I know you would’ve told me, even without Jace’s interference.”
With a start, Seth realized he did know that. Rebecca’s heart was too pure, too full of love to believe otherwise. Okay, it might have taken their daughter being born for Rebecca to come to grips with what she’d done, to settle her mind on correcting her actions, but he held zero doubt that she would’ve picked up the phone and called him.
“You can’t know that. I d-don’t know that.” Lifting her chin in that stubborn, I-will-get-my-way-on-this-no-matter-what manner of hers, she said, “P-Please let me f-fix this.”
Every molecule in Seth’s body rejected the notion. Every part of him wanted to whisk her inside, clean her off and tuck her into bed. But dammit, he couldn’t. He had to give her this.
“Well, alrighty then.” Moving swiftly, he changed position, blocking her sight of the bushes to his right. He pried the ring from his jean pocket and hoping for the best, pressed it partially into the dirt under the middle rosebush. “I can see how important this is to you, but darlin’, you’re looking in the wrong place.”
“What do you mean?” She wiped her tears with the back of her hand, leaving a trail of wet dirt and blood from cheek to ear. “I stood on the p-porch and threw the r-ring here.”
“You have a strong pitching arm, so if I were to guess—” Seth switched positions again and gave the row of bushes a contemplative look “—I’d have to say the ring likely landed right here in this center bush somewhere.”
“You think?” she asked even as she began to crawl in that direction.
“I do.” Seth got out of her way and situated himself on her other side. Angling his head, he peered around Rebecca, in search of the ring. Ah. There it was, stuck halfway in the ground with the diamond clearly visible. Relief struck fast. “I’d start at the bottom and work your way up. Between your impressive throwing skills and…uh…the natural elements—rain and wind and such—it likely dropped clear through to the dirt.”
An Officer, a Baby and a Bride Page 19
