“Until he met your dad.”
“Which only happened after he’d spent a few years in foster care. But even his relationship with my dad took time to develop. And then my dad died, too.”
“He’s lost a lot of people he’s cared about,” Kate acknowledged.
“I’m not done yet,” Trish said. “Because, if I’m being completely honest, I abandoned him, too. I told him I loved him and wanted to have a family with him and, when he wouldn’t give me what I wanted, I ignored the vows we exchanged to be with someone else.
“I did love him,” she said softly. “But I didn’t love him enough to sacrifice what I wanted to make him happy.”
“Are you suggesting that I should give up my job? Because—”
“No,” Trish interjected quickly, firmly. “You shouldn’t change anything that makes you who you are, but you need to work with Reid to figure out a compromise you can both live with. And working with Reid won’t be easy.”
“I’m already realizing it’s an uphill battle.”
“Just don’t stop battling,” the other woman urged. “Don’t give up on him.”
Kate managed a small smile. “I’m not a quitter.”
“Good.” Trish reached for the envelope on the table. “I took about a thousand pictures at your wedding,” she confided. “And I had prints of some of my favorites made for you. So if your resolve ever falters—” she pulled out one of the photos and passed it to Kate “—just look at this.”
She glanced at the photo in her hand and felt a tug at her heart. It was a picture of Reid standing at the front of the church on their wedding day. Trish had zoomed in on his face, and the smile that curved his lips was reflected in the happy light in his eyes.
“Do you know what that is?” Trish asked.
“A picture of Reid,” she said, stating the obvious.
But Trish shook her head. “It’s a picture of the groom,” she clarified. “Taken at the exact moment that he saw his bride appear at the back of the church.”
Kate looked at Trish, silently questioning.
“Most guests automatically turn to catch that first glimpse of the bride,” she explained. “I was looking at Reid as he was looking at you. And what I saw, what anyone can see in that photo, is a man looking at the woman he wants to share his life with—the woman he loves.”
Kate shook her head as fresh tears filled her eyes. “I appreciate the pep talk, but Reid doesn’t love me.”
“I’m not surprised he hasn’t said the words,” Trish said. “He’s never been good at expressing his emotions. But that doesn’t mean the feelings aren’t there.”
Kate wanted to believe the other woman could be right, but Reid’s response—or rather complete lack of response—when she confessed her feelings warned her not to get her hopes up.
* * *
The baptism of Henry Jonah Stilton was a formal ceremony at the church where his parents had married followed by a big party in their backyard.
Kate didn’t know if it was the change of scenery or being away from the demands of their respective jobs or if her husband had finally got over being mad, but Reid was incredibly sweet and attentive throughout the weekend. As the guest of honor was passed from one willing set of arms to another and they slipped away from the crowd and into the house to get their bags before heading to the airport, she was almost sorry to be leaving Echo Ridge.
“It’s not going to be too much longer before we can hold our own baby,” Kate said as Reid zipped up his duffel.
“Not that you can tell,” he said, touching a hand to the gentle swell of her tummy.
“Wrap-style dresses and print fabrics are very forgiving,” she confided.
“And stunning,” he told her. “Sometimes I look at you and I’m awed that you’re my wife, and—” His eyes went wide and whatever else he’d intended to say was forgotten. “Was that...our baby?”
She smiled and nodded. For a couple weeks now, she’d been aware of subtle nudges that were gradually growing stronger, but this was the first time Reid had witnessed any movement.
His lips curved as he felt another kick. “That’s...wow.” Then his smile faltered. “Does it hurt?”
“No, it doesn’t hurt. It’s a little distracting at times,” she confided. “I feel the baby move and I get so excited, I forget what I’m doing.”
He kept his hand on her belly for another minute, and when he finally lifted his gaze to hers, his eyes were moist.
“I’m sorry, Katelyn.”
She looked wary. “Sorry you got me pregnant?”
He shook his head. “No. I’ll never be sorry about that,” he assured her. “But I am sorry about that day in your office—about my response to the situation, and afterward.”
“I’d never do anything to put our baby in danger,” she said softly.
“I know. But I wasn’t just thinking about the baby—I was thinking about you, too. And when I understood that you’d been in your office with a suspect in possession of a loaded gun... I’ve worn a badge for almost a dozen years now and I’ve seen my fair share of bad stuff, and my mind immediately imagined all things that could’ve gone wrong.
“The rational part of my brain recognized that the situation was controlled, but my emotions weren’t,” he admitted. “And the thought—as fleeting as it was—that I could’ve lost you...it cut me off at the knees.”
She touched a hand to his arm. “I’m sorry, Reid. It never occurred to me that you were worried about me.”
“That might’ve been because I was yelling at you,” he acknowledged ruefully. “But only because I was shaking inside at the idea of you sitting across from a guy willing to pull the trigger of a Glock 17 for less than three hundred dollars in a cash register.”
“I was shaking, too,” she admitted. “And more than anything, I wanted you to hold me. I wanted to feel your arms—strong and reassuring—around me. But Deputy Neal was with you, and I didn’t want to cross the line we’ve been so careful to draw between our respective jobs and our personal life.”
“Can I hold you now?” he asked.
She moved willingly into his arms.
He held her tight and whispered close to her ear, “I love you, Katelyn.”
She was still for a minute, her heart—filled with joy and hope—pounding against her ribs. Then she slowly eased back to look at him, not entirely certain she’d heard the words correctly.
But he looked straight into her eyes and said it again, “I love you.”
“How... When... Are you sure?”
He smiled as her muddled brain struggled to put together a cohesive thought.
“Yes, I’m sure,” he told her. “I think I’d mostly figured it out the night of our first-month anniversary, when I came home and found you sleeping on the sofa. That might also be part of the reason I overreacted the next day—the feelings were still new and overwhelming and then, suddenly, I was imagining how unbearably empty my life would be without you in it.”
“Wow, that’s a much more eloquent expression of love than you got from me,” she told him.
“All that matters is that you do. If you still do.”
She lifted her hands to frame his face. “I absolutely do,” she said. “I love you with my whole heart, Reid Davidson—today, tomorrow and for the rest of our lives.” Then she touched her lips to his. “Let’s go home.”
* * *
When they got back to Haven, Reid surprised Kate by driving to the new house instead of their apartment. He’d put in a lot of hours and she was eager to see the results of the work he’d done, but she was shocked to discover that the house wasn’t just in move-in condition but that their furniture had actually been moved in.
“I gave your sister the keys before we left,” he explained. “She rounded up your brothers and cousins and supervised the packing
and moving.”
“Everything looks fabulous,” Kate said.
They hadn’t yet picked out furniture for the baby’s room, but the walls and trim were freshly painted. Kate had chosen “iceberg”—a pale blue color with just a hint of purple, because although they didn’t yet know the sex of their baby, she refused to succumb to gender stereotypes in choosing the decor for the nursery.
She paused in the doorway of the next room, where her queen-size bed and dressers had been set up. “I thought the master bedroom was the one overlooking the backyard.”
“It is.” He took her hand and led her down the hall to the master, opening the door to reveal their new bedroom set—including a king-size bed.
Kate laughed. “You are worried that my big belly will push you out of bed, aren’t you?”
“Actually, I was thinking a little further into the future,” he confided. “A bigger bed means more room for our kids to snuggle in with us on lazy Saturday mornings.”
“You really are going to be a great dad,” she told him.
“I hope so. In the meantime, we’ve got a great big bed and hours and hours until morning.”
“Did you have an idea about how we might fill those hours?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I want to make love with my beautiful wife—the woman I love more and more each day.”
“What a coincidence,” she said. “Because I want to make love with my handsome husband—the man I love more and more each day.”
So that’s what they did.
And this time, Kate had no doubts that they were truly making love. With every touch of his hands and his lips and his body, he showed her the truth and depth of his feelings for her.
And she loved him back the same way.
Afterward, when their bodies were finally sated but still entwined, they both felt their little bean kick, as if expressing approval that Mommy and Daddy had finally figured things out.
Epilogue
February 14
As Kate’s due date approached, she was more than ready to be done with being pregnant. By early February, she was tired of waddling around with an extra twenty-five pounds in her belly.
Reid tried to be understanding and supportive, and he willingly enabled her most outrageous cravings. He even went to The Trading Post one night to get her a bag of dill pickle–flavored potato chips and a package of gummy bears—from which she ate only the orange ones.
Since the responsibilities of an expectant father were limited, he tried to pick up the slack in other ways. And while Kate appreciated his willingness to sweep the floor and fold laundry, what really helped ease the physical discomfort in the last few weeks of her pregnancy was that he told her he loved her, every single day. And—twenty-five pounds of baby belly notwithstanding—he was still happy to prove it to her.
She left work a little early Wednesday afternoon, because her aching back didn’t want to sit behind her desk any longer and because it was Valentine’s Day and she figured she should put a little effort into making dinner for her husband. But when she pulled into the driveway, Reid’s truck was already there. Apparently he’d decided to cut his day short, too.
She set her keys on the hook inside the closet and kicked off her shoes, then followed the sound of chopping into the kitchen. “What’s going on in here?”
“You’re not supposed to be home yet,” he said, setting aside the knife and green pepper to dry his hands on a towel.
“Do you want me to leave?”
“Of course not. I was just hoping I’d have all of this done before you got home.” He drew her close—or as close as her belly would allow—and kissed her. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” she echoed.
Then she looked around, saw the vase of roses on the table, the candles in holders waiting to be lit, the bottle of sparkling grape juice chilling in a crystal wine bucket. “This is...wow.” Then she sniffed the air. “What are you cooking?”
“Spaghetti with meatballs in a basic red sauce with a mixed field greens salad and chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream for dessert.”
“Wow,” she said again.
His gaze narrowed on her. “Why are you rubbing your back?”
“Oh.” She hadn’t realized she was doing so and forced herself to drop her hand. “I’ve been having some twinges.”
He was immediately concerned. “Since when?”
She shrugged. “A few days.”
“Can you describe the pain?”
“It’s just a backache, Reid.”
“Back pain can be an early sign of labor.”
“I know, but it’s really not that bad and—”
“And the sheen of perspiration on your forehead suggests you’re in more pain than you want me to know,” he noted.
“I’d say it’s discomfort more than pain.”
He splayed his palms on her belly. “Are you having any contractions?”
“Just Braxton Hicks,” she said.
“How do you know they’re Braxton Hicks?”
“Because I’m—” she sucked in a breath as her belly tightened “—still several days from my due date and first babies are almost never early.”
“I think we should call Dr. Amaro.”
“But you went to the trouble of making dinner, and it’s Valentine’s Day.”
He bent his knees so he was at her eye level, and he could see that hers were filled with tears. “It’s okay to be scared.”
“Are you scared?”
“Terrified.”
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“I’m saying it because it’s true,” he said. “This is new territory for both of us. But as scared as I am, I know that we can get through this—and everything that comes after—as long as we’re together.”
She winced as her belly tightened with another contraction and then, as her muscles went lax again, she felt something warm and wet trickle down the inside of her leg.
“Reid...”
“What can I do?” he asked.
“You can call Dr. Amaro now—my water just broke.”
* * *
After that, everything happened really fast.
Or really slow, depending on who was telling the story.
Reid called Dr. Amaro, grabbed Katelyn’s bag, then hustled—as much as it was possible to hustle a laboring woman—out to his truck.
Nine hours later, very early in the morning of February 15, Katelyn gave birth to an eight-pound, four-ounce baby girl. They named her Tessa Lorraine Davidson, in honor of Katelyn’s mother and Reid’s grandmother.
Through most of the next day, Katelyn’s hospital room seemed to have a revolving door as her dad, grandparents, siblings and various other relatives and friends popped in to check on the new mom and baby. Reid was content to hover in the background while his girls shone in the spotlight, because Katelyn deserved all the credit for bringing their beautiful, perfect daughter into the world and because Tessa was that beautiful, perfect daughter.
And Reid was the luckiest man in the world, because Katelyn wasn’t just his wife and the mother of his child, she was the woman he loved with his whole heart—and he knew she loved him back the same way.
* * * * *
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HER SEVEN-DAY FIANCE
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MATCH MADE IN HAVEN
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A Proposal for the Officer
by Christy Jeffries
Chapter One
Leaning against a stack of cases of bottled water, Captain Molly Markham put a hand to her head as nausea overwhelmed her. Closing her eyes for a second, she debated whether or not she was at risk of passing out right there in the middle of Duncan’s Market. She grabbed a liter of water off the shelf, unscrewed the cap and took a big swig. Her mouth was dry and suddenly her body felt weighted down.
Oh, no. It was happening again.
She’d sworn to the Bureau of Personnel reviewing her medical board that she could keep these episodes under control, but apparently they’d been right to doubt her.
Molly heaved herself off the tower of water and put one foot in front of the other, needing to get as far away from the curious glances of the shoppers who were sure to know her sister, Maxine, and would be only too eager to ask Maxine about her little sister’s “incident” out in public.
The Sheriff's Nine-Month Surprise Page 19
