* * *
Savannah sat in her rocking chair in the bedroom she used to share with Jeremy, absently brushing out her long blond hair. She didn’t acknowledge Jeremy’s entrance into the room but continued to stare into space. She froze as he gripped the arms of the rocking chair and stopped her movement. Sitting back, she moved away from him as he leaned toward her.
“I need you to focus on me, Savannah. Tell me what is bothering you.” His cheeks reddened with frustration as she remained silent. “Dammit, what did I do? Tell me, and I’ll make it better. I’ll change. I promise.”
His whispered entreaty had her closing her eyes as tears trickled down her cheeks. She sniffled and then fell forward into his embrace.
After settling on the floor, he rocked her to and fro, cocooned in his arms, while she sobbed. “Tell me. I promise I’ll fix whatever is wrong. I’m sorry for whatever I did,” he whispered over and over into her hair as she continued to shudder into his shoulder.
“I wanted you to hate me,” she whispered in a stuttering breath past her sobs.
He pushed her back, brushing her hair out of the way and smearing her tears in the process. “Why? I would never hate you. I couldn’t.”
“I’m so scared, Jeremy,” she whispered. She shook her head and seemed to shrink into herself in front of him.
“This isn’t like you, Sav. It’s not like you to ignore all of us for the better part of three months. I’ve tried to reach you, but you’ve kept this hard barrier around you. I want to know why.” He continued to rub his hands over her in an attempt to soothe her and himself.
“I have to tell you soon. You’re bound to notice.” She lowered her gaze, paling as she spoke. “I can’t believe you haven’t already suspected.”
“Will you speak plainly and quit talking in riddles?” Jeremy demanded, the gentle entreaty giving way to a demand as his anxiety and anger over the past few months erupted.
“I’m pregnant,” she whispered. “All of our precautions failed.” She bit her trembling lip while tears continued to fall as his hands fell away from her. She pulled her arms around herself, hugging her middle. “The doctor I spoke with in Butte last week said there’s a good chance …” Her voice broke.
“A good chance …”
“A good chance I will die this time. That nothing can be done to save me,” Savannah whispered. She watched as Jeremy pushed away from her to roam the room.
He paused at the wardrobe, the muscles of his back tense as he propped himself on both arms. “God damn it to hell,” he rasped. “I swear, Savannah, I never would have risked you.” He slammed his hand against the wardrobe, then again to the point she thought he’d crack it.
“Jeremy, you’ll frighten Melly,” she reprimanded him.
“You think I worry about frightening Melly when you tell me there’s a good chance you’ll be dead in a few months?” He hissed, impotent fury rolling off him. “And you wasted some of the time we have left?” He shook his head in dismay and disappointment, his eyes devastated. “Why would you do that to me? This is my baby too. You’re my wife. My life.”
Savannah shrugged her shoulders, pushing herself up to sit again in the rocking chair, although she didn’t rock in it. “I didn’t want to believe it at first. And then I thought you wouldn’t mourn me as much if there’d been a distance between us.”
Jeremy reacted as though she’d stabbed him. He clutched a hand to his chest and leaned back against the wardrobe. “A distance? How can you not comprehend how much I love you after all these years? A distance would only hurt me more.” He shook his head in incredulity. “You visited a doctor without me. You denied me the right to be beside you. You have to know I would support you. Do everything I could to protect you.”
Faint trembling racked Savannah, and she stared into space again. “We’ve done what we could to prevent a baby. I knew you didn’t want to try for another. I couldn’t bear having you believe I intentionally became pregnant.”
Jeremy slammed his palm against the wardrobe, earning a startled gaze from her. “Did you? Because that was the furthest thing from my mind until you said it.”
“Of course not,” she whispered. “I’m just so … I was just so….”
“Afraid? Of me? Of telling me, the man who loves you, who’ll love our baby, the truth?” he asked, eyes brightened by tears. He ran his fingers through his hair and sniffled. “I have to get out of here.”
“Jeremy, please stay and talk.” She held out a hand to him in supplication.
“No, not now. You had months to talk with me, and you wouldn’t. I can’t right now. I won’t.” He spun for the door and wrenched it open, before slamming it shut behind him.
* * *
Clarissa lay curled on her side with an arm and a leg thrown over Gabriel. He lazily played with her hair, nuzzling the top of her head as she half dozed. He stiffened at a fist pounding on the downstairs door.
“Who would call at this hour?” Clarissa murmured, half asleep. “They’d better not wake the children.”
Gabriel chuckled and kissed her head before slipping from bed and tugging on a pair of pants. He grabbed a shirt and closed the door behind him. When he entered the upstairs hallway, he lunged after his son Billy, pulling him into his arms. “Whoa, little buddy. You know you shouldn’t go to the door without your mother or me,” Gabriel said as he held him in his arms. He was almost too big to hold like this, but Gabriel relished moments when he was too sleepy to fight being held.
“They can’t wake Little Colin,” Billy said around a huge yawn, showing off his tonsils.
Gabriel set him down and gave him a pat on his bum, pushing him in the direction of his bedroom. “Let me answer the door so they don’t,” he said with a smile and a wink. He watched as Billy walked toward his bedroom door, tripping into the hall wall once before he safely maneuvered into his room.
Gabriel walked down the stairs and opened the door, his inquisitive stare turning to a frown of concern as he beheld his brother. “Jer,” he murmured, pulling him inside.
Jeremy swayed, allowing himself to be tugged into the living room and pushed onto the sofa.
Gabriel sat on the chair across from him.
“I’m sorry to come so late. I’d forgotten the hour.”
“You know you never need worry about that sort of thing with us. What’s the matter, Jer?” Gabriel asked. His gaze roved over his youngest brother, and he frowned at the desperation he sensed. “Have you discovered what’s wrong with Savannah?”
Jeremy nodded, raising terrified eyes to his brother.
Gabriel blanched as the panic made his brother’s eyes shine a brighter green.
“She’s pregnant. She believes she’s going to die.”
Gabriel stilled Jeremy’s instinctive move to rise and pace with a firm clasp on his forearm. “All women have that irrational fear. As do most of the men who care for them. She will be fine.”
Jeremy shook his head as desolation stole over him. “No, I’ve always known that, if she were to become pregnant again, she’d most likely die. You know what it was like the last time we lost a baby five years ago. How weak she was from the anemia. It took her weeks to recover.” He sucked in a deep breath, clearing his throat in an attempt to speak without his voice breaking. “She visited a doctor. In Butte. And he confirmed her fears.”
Gabriel frowned. “She’s visited a doctor about your baby without even informing you that she was pregnant?”
Jeremy freed his arm from Gabriel’s grasp, raising his palms to cover his face, scrubbing at his cheeks before rubbing his hands through his hair. He began to shake. “She said she was afraid.”
“Of being pregnant? Of you?” Gabriel shook his head in confusion. “Because, no matter what, she had to know, at some point, you’d figure it out. A baby is pretty hard to hide.”
“This isn’t humorous, Gabe,” Jeremy snapped.
“No, it’s damn tragic that you two can’t rejoice at the life you’ve created,
” Gabriel said, sorrow shining from his eyes as he watched his youngest brother suffer. “What can I do?”
Jeremy sank into the sofa’s cushions. “Besides find a way for my wife to trust me? To not fear me?”
Gabriel scratched at his own head, sending his hair on end. “You know that’s not true, Jer. She loves you.”
Jeremy rose, pacing to the mantel. He stared at the painting Zylphia had created of the creek near the place where Clarissa and Gabriel’s son Rory had died. Jeremy lost himself momentarily in the beauty of the scene with no hint of the tragedy that had occurred. “You’ve known loss. You know what it is to find yourself separated from Clarissa.” Jeremy fisted his hand and slammed it down on the mantel top. “Do you know what it does to me to know that she didn’t trust me? That she feared me?” He swiped at his face and sniffled but refused to face his brother. “After all this time, all the years since Jonas’s death, she still doesn’t trust me. Not completely.”
“I know that’s not true,” Gabriel whispered.
“She thought it would be better if there was a distance between us, if I’d already started to resent her. So that, when she died, I wouldn’t miss her as much.” Jeremy attempted an incredulous snort but instead hiccupped out a sob. “As though I wouldn’t mourn her forever.”
“It sounds like the type of convoluted logic a terrified woman uses to protect those she loves most in the world.” Gabriel placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “She must be as afraid as you are.”
“I hate that I was robbed of even one day with her due to her distancing herself from me,” Jeremy said.
“And yet you’ve just robbed yourself of more time with your anger tonight,” Gabriel murmured. “You must find a way to understand each other, Jer. Forgiveness might seem too great at this point. But I know you. You have the biggest heart of all us McLeod men.” He reached forward and gripped his brother by the shoulders.
Jeremy allowed himself to be pulled into a bear hug before he eased himself away and rubbed at a tear that had leaked out. “I should go home. Speak with Savannah.”
Gabriel nodded.
“I’ll let you know how things are when I see you at the workshop.”
“I’ll tell Rissa that you’re having problems. It’s not a stretch, seeing how Sav’s acted recently. Her news is hers to tell.” He shared a long brotherly look with Jeremy before escorting him to the door.
* * *
When Jeremy returned home, he wandered into his downstairs study, rather than returning to his bedroom upstairs. He sat in his comfortable leather chair with a half-full tumbler of whiskey in front of him. It was largely untouched, but he enjoyed staring into its amber depths. He swirled the glass, watching it coat and then slide off the side of the glass. His eyes closed as the door creaked open.
“I thought I heard you come in,” Savannah whispered as she entered in stockinged feet. “That was a few hours ago.”
Jeremy turned to look out the side window, noting it was still pitch black out. “It seems this night will never end,” he murmured.
Savannah flinched at his words.
“Why did you seek me out?”
She moved to a chair across from the desk. “I wanted to ensure you were all right. You weren’t in any of the guest bedrooms.”
Jeremy’s shoulders hunched farther as he pinched the bridge between his nose. “What would you do to comfort me?”
“It’s so ironic how I need you to comfort me too,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I acted like a witless idiot.”
“You thought I’d react like Jonas,” Jeremy said in a flat voice, a tone that hurt Savannah more than any raging or imploring could have.
“Oh, God, no!” Savannah cried out, rising from her chair and moving beside the desk. She pushed away the tumbler of whiskey, inadvertently thrusting it to the floor. She stood next to him, attempting to force him to look at her. “All I thought about was the pain I was causing you again. And I hate that.”
“The only pain you’ve ever caused me is when you haven’t trusted me,” Jeremy whispered. “Every other moment with you I’ve known joy. Joy in sharing this life with you. Joy in raising Melinda together. Joy in facing hurdles together. Joy in comforting you when you are sad. Joy in sharing our sorrows together. I have only ever exulted in my love for you.”
Tears dripped off her cheeks, landing on his head and shoulders. “Oh, Jeremy. I know. And I have no other way to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry, and I love you. I’m terrified of leaving you. Leaving Melly. Of not growing old with you. Not watching our grandchildren grow.” She fought a sob.
He snaked an arm out and curled it around her side, moving his chair back enough that he could ease her onto his lap. “Don’t cry, love,” he murmured.
“I’m filled with such a rage! I don’t want this threat hanging over us,” she sobbed into his shoulder.
“I know,” he whispered. “Instead of rejoicing at our good fortune, we are lamenting.” He took a deep breath as she settled on his lap and cried. He rocked her to and fro, kissing her head, holding her tight as the storm of her grief broke.
“I know you’ll care for our child even if I’m gone,” she said into his ear. “But that makes me so sad. I want to be here too. Does that make me greedy?”
“No, my love,” Jeremy said, kissing her forehead and continuing to rock her. “It makes you human. It makes me love you more.”
She traced a hand over his arm and shoulder. “You don’t hate me?”
“I could never hate you.” He sighed. “I could be irate with you. I could wish things were different, but I could never hate you.” He pushed her back and looked into her eyes. “I want you to know I’m not accepting that doctor’s decree as though it were Gospel. I’ll fight for you, for us, with everything I have.”
“There’s nothing we can do.” She laid a hand over her slightly rounded belly as tears continued to seep out.
“I can’t believe I didn’t suspect. I never noticed,” he whispered.
“I tried very hard for you not to,” she said. “I had clothes made to hide my belly. And I don’t tend to show the baby until the end of my pregnancy.” His hand roved over her belly, and she bit back a sob as Jeremy bent over, kissing the bulge.
“Hello, little love,” he whispered. “You will be cherished.”
“Oh, Jeremy,” she murmured as tears coursed down her cheek. She met his determined gaze and shrugged in resignation at her fate.
“We’ll go to Boston, and Melly will come with us as school is soon out. We’ll visit the best doctors in the city, and, if I don’t like what they say, we’ll go to New York City. I will not give up without exploring every avenue available to us. I will not readily accept any doctor’s decree. We will fight against fate.”
“The expense,” she whispered.
“We have the money.” He gave her an ironic smile. “I can think of no better way to spend his money than ensuring your safety during the birth of our child.” His eyes were lit with a hint of revenge as he considered using her first husband’s money to pay for her medical care.
He kissed her softly and then held her close as she fought tears. “We will rejoice at this news, Savannah. I promise you.”
* * *
Araminta walked beside Bartholomew Bouchard on one of their customary evening walks. This evening they walked toward a neighborhood park and strolled the perimeter of it. When they were in an isolated corner of the park, far away from children playing in the late evening, he stopped and faced her.
“Araminta,” he whispered in a low voice. “I believe you’ve come to understand my deep regard for you.” He smiled as she stood stock-still and beheld him with wide stunned eyes. “I’ve been constant in my show of affection.”
She nodded and attempted to back up a step but was held in place by his firm grip on her hands. “Forgive me if I’ve given you the wrong impression.” His smile was sweet, although it did little to disarm or soothe her.
�
�I know you are intrigued by me. And I know you appreciate the time we spend together.” His smile broadened at her blush. “Just as I hate to miss seeing you.” He bent so his forehead nearly touched hers. “Marry me, Araminta.”
Her breaths emerged in a gasp, and she stuttered incoherently before clamping her mouth shut. After a moment, she whispered, “Why would you want to marry me?”
His thumb traced a pattern over her hand. “You’re clever and resourceful. You are loyal.” He took a deep breath as his smile faded. He raised her hand and kissed the back of it. “I love you, Araminta. I want you as my wife.”
She shook her head from side to side. “That’s impossible.”
“Why? Because someone else, who’s had the opportunity to make his feelings known but hasn’t because he’s a feckless deceiver, has strung you along for years?” He gripped her shoulders. “I am not such a man. I will proclaim it to this town, to anyone who asks, that I am proud to have you as my wife.”
She frowned. “Why?”
“Don’t you want your own family? Your own children? Or do you want to live your life caring for those who will only ever see you as a glorified nursemaid? What happens when their children are grown? Will you start caring for their children too?” He gave her a slight shake. “Why don’t you want more from your life?”
Confusion, despair and then determination filled her gaze. “Don’t ever disparage me or my life again. Or the McLeod families,” she demanded. “I have a wonderful life, and they have been very good to me.”
He caressed her cheek. “Forgive me. I would never mean you disrespect. I want more for you, Araminta. I had hoped you wanted more too.” He stared deeply into her eyes. “My greatest hope is that you envision me in your future.”
She took a deep breath. “I never thought you’d offer marriage. I have enjoyed our friendship.” She watched him as he tensed at her words. “I’ve enjoyed my time with you.” She studied him further as she firmed her shoulders. “I will marry you, Bartholomew. Thank you.”
Abiding Love: Banished Saga, Book Eight Page 12
