Unexpected Babies

“I know.” Caroline shook her head. “Aunt Imogen’s attorney pointed out the tactless nature of their claims, but they still wanted to be paid. My God, how we missed them.”

“I missed them, too?”

“You wouldn’t talk about it, but someone plants flowers on their graves and keeps them tended. Usually, when I go out to the cemetery, something new is blooming. You must be the gardener, but you always said you didn’t know anything about the plants. Aunt Imogen has a killer thumb, and Uncle Ford’s still too mad at Dad for dying to do something so kind.”

Sadness surprised Cate, knotting uncomfortable tears in the back of her throat. She’d like to see that cemetery, but she had to go by herself the first time. After that, she’d ask Caroline to help her with the flowers. She moved on to their aunt and uncle. “How about Aunt Imogen and Uncle Ford? Dan told me a story about Aunt Imogen’s Navy man.”

“I don’t believe she ever had an affair, if that’s what you mean, but like you, she keeps her feelings private. Maybe she’ll tell you about him if you ask her in your present condition.”

Cate grinned at Caroline’s prim tone. “I wondered why she wasn’t married, but it seemed rude to ask. And Uncle Ford?”

“He’s never made conventional choices. None of us was conventional except you.” Caroline swallowed. “Actually, no one was ever sure if Grandma and Grandpa actually married each other. I mean we have a marriage certificate, but the story is, they bought it on the boardwalk in New Jersey.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry. You and Alan are legal, and you’ve never taken a wrong step. You’ve walked a tight, straight line to give Dan a sense of family you and I didn’t get. You’ve made him strong.”

Tight, straight line? The walls started to close in again.

“In fact, you and Alan have given Shelly a good example. I want her to know someone in our family can make a marriage stick.”

A lasting marriage hardly equated with a wife who’d hidden her pregnancy. How had Alan responded to setting examples? What had she thought about such a responsibility?

“I need to ask you about Alan’s father, too. Uncle Ford mentioned that I wouldn’t be seeing him inside these four walls.” She glanced quickly around the room. “What did he mean? I don’t feel comfortable asking Alan.”

“Why?”

Because she didn’t trust their relationship. “Alan’s already stressed. I don’t want to add to his trouble, but he’s—Richard’s his name?”

“Yeah, Richard.”

“He’s family, too. I’d better know about him.”

“Richard has his quirks.” Caroline grabbed the water again. “I don’t want to talk about him, either. He raised Alan alone after Alan’s mom left when Alan was about ten. I’m not sure what went wrong.”

“I thought you and I were close.”

“We were.”

“I sure hid a lot from you.”

“Just the important stuff,” Caroline said with a trace of impatience. “I’ve never understood what went on between Alan and Richard, and you never told me anything. Of course there was gossip. I’ve heard Alan did a lot of the stuff fathers are supposed to do for their children, like laundry and cooking. I know Richard had a drinking problem. You and Alan both tried to pretend Richard was a better father than I think he was.”

Appalled and heartbroken for her husband, Cate tried to take this information in. “Why would we cover for him?”

“Maybe for Dan, or maybe you thought he’d remind me of Ryan, my own runaway spouse. You’ll have to ask Alan—or maybe Richard. He’s getting married this summer. He must have finally put his first wife behind him.” Caroline reached for her hand. “I haven’t helped you. You know my worst fears, but I only know hints of yours.”

Cate made herself accept her sister’s touch. Dr. Davis and Dr. Barton had both touched her in comfort, and she hadn’t minded. Family mattered more. Accepting affection she couldn’t return felt false, but she wanted to love her sister so she let her hand rest in Caroline’s.

“I have to ask you another question you won’t want to answer.” She felt disloyal to Alan after what Caroline had said about Richard. Imagining her husband as a lost little boy, forced to grow up, hurt her. She had to ask her sister about the state of their marriage, because she wasn’t sure he’d tell her the truth. If he’d persuaded her to go along with shielding his father, he must be used to pretending things were “normal.” “Were Alan and I happy?”

Caroline jerked her fingers back. “How would I know?”

Cate held her twin’s so familiar gaze with sheer will. “You’re my sister. I took you at your word when you promised I could depend on you.”

Caroline looked as if she’d like to run for her life. “You would no more have told me about problems between you and Alan than you would have hired a plane to list them in the sky.”

“I have to know.”

“You aren’t yourself.”

“I’m afraid not. I don’t trust the way people describe me so far. I was stuffy.”

“Not stuffy. Kind.”

“So much circumspection sounds unnatural.” Cate tucked her sheet around her waist. A walk down the hospital hall might clear her muzzy head, but weakness in her legs, combined with the deep cut on her thigh held her prisoner, and Caroline had backed away when she’d needed her most. “Thanks for talking. I appreciate your effort.”

“Wait.” Her expression dogged, Caroline propped one elbow on the edge of Cate’s bed. “Let me try again. Alan came to my house this morning, and he insisted I see you.”

Cate crossed her arms. She still possessed enough of her infamous self-sufficiency to resent Alan’s intervention.

“Hold on, Cate. He wanted to make sure I took care of you.”

If he knew she needed help, why had he stayed away last night? The obvious answer. She’d dropped a bomb on his head. He needed time to reconcile himself. Not the most romantic tactic, but if he showed up again soon, she’d try to understand. “Alan and I aren’t your responsibility.”

“Listen to me. You have to listen if you ask for advice. I don’t think he’d have come to me if he didn’t care.” Caroline fluffed her hair. “Why are we talking about this? He loves you. He’s been crazy since that car hit you.”

“He doesn’t act like a man in love. He acts like something’s wrong.”

“I noticed, but I don’t believe your marriage went bad.”

Cate plucked at a loose thread on her sheet’s hem. “I’m glad my marriage comforts you, but I’d love to know how I felt about it.”

“Yeah.” Caroline sounded unsure.

And she didn’t even know about the twins.

AGAIN, Alan stared at Cate’s door. Someone had printed her name on a small, square whiteboard beside the metal doorframe. He brushed away a smear at the end of the r in Palmer. Then he went inside.

Favoring her injured leg, his wife turned from the window.

“Cate.” He’d expected her to be in bed.

“I almost stopped hoping you’d come, but I didn’t want to be flat on my back when we talked.” A smile hovered at the corner of her mouth.

He knew that sweet shape as well as he knew his own face. He’d kissed that mouth, frowned at that mouth, dreaded seeing it thin in anger, and waited with held breath for it to smile. A real smile—not like her smile now.

“You knew you could expect me?” Somewhere inside her remained the wife who’d trusted him to take care of her.

“If you’d stayed away again tonight, I’d have understood you’d made your decision.”

No, this Cate wasn’t the wife he’d lived with for twenty years. His Cate had never tested him.

“I’m glad I passed.”

“I didn’t think of it as a trial. When you didn’t call or come back yesterday, I assumed you had to think about where we stood.”

A cold fist squeezed his heart. “Is that what you’ve been doing?”

She shook her head. Her bright hair fell over her shoulder, tempting him to slide possessive fingers through the strands before she slipped away from him forever.

“How could I decide anything without talking to you?” she asked in a low voice. Behind her, the night sky perfectly framed her pale skin and tense silhouette.

Her open gaze gave him hope for the first time since she’d run from the office.

“I want to go on together,” he said. “You’re my wife.”

“Don’t put it that way, Alan.” Emotionally, she distanced herself from him. “I don’t want us to stay together because we happen to be married.”

“I get the idea you don’t want me to say I love you.”

Those words didn’t belong between them since he’d hidden the business trouble and she’d concealed their baby from him.

She limped toward him, but she stopped beside her bed and flexed her fingers on the lip of her table. From her knuckles to her nails, her skin faded to palest white.

“I know something’s wrong, and saying you love me would only alarm me now.” She lifted her chin. “You could tell me what’s wrong.”

No, he couldn’t. It wasn’t just that her injuries had given him time to win her back. He’d never been good at admitting she’d always be his deepest need. He’d shown her in the only way he’d known how, providing a good life for her and their son.

From now on, he’d pay more attention to her, become the husband she wanted. His father’s decadesold advice rang in his ears. “Give your wife the good things in life. Provide, and provide well, or she’ll find a man who can.”

“I still don’t know why I decided not to tell you about the baby.” She slid her gaze away from him. “Don’t we need to know why?”

“One day I hope you’ll tell me.”

Frustration tightened her mouth, but she controlled it. “Tonight I have to tell you I had a test today.”

“What kind of a test? Is the baby all right?” Fear nearly dropped him to his knees. Even if he couldn’t provide for this child as he had for Dan, he’d love the new baby. He’d be the best father his resources allowed.

“I’ve scared you again. I’m sorry.” Cate hurried around the bed and reached for his hand.

Her fingers felt vulnerable in his, but he couldn’t let go. “I should be taking care of you,” he said.

“I should have found a better way to say this. Dr. Davis did an exam today and discovered we’re having twins.”

“Twins?”

She nodded. Seconds passed. He didn’t know how to respond to twins. The cost, the timing. She’d never understand his panic. Distance came into her eyes. By not answering, he was losing her, the woman he’d loved since he’d learned to love, and the woman he no longer knew.

He threw a longing look at her chair. “Do you mind if I sit?”

She grinned, and he sat without her consent. Was she laughing at him? She didn’t respect him for sitting?

“Not that I mind,” he said. “The twins. I don’t mind the twins.”

“You don’t have to prove how tough you are. If I hadn’t been lying down when Dr. Davis told me, I might have fallen.”

“Twins.”

“Will you tell me how you really feel?”

“Startled.” He tried hard to think how she’d want him to answer. How he should answer as a decent human being who wanted his wife back, who loved the child they’d already created, and who knew he could love two more when the shock wore off. “How are you?” he asked her.

She actually seemed to find his lack of assurance comforting. She relaxed her tense stance.

“Glad to see you.” She squeezed his hand once and then let go to scoot onto the edge of her bed and straighten her leg. “I couldn’t tell anyone else before I told you.”

He should be the first to know. He tugged at the hem of her robe. “Do you feel anything for me?”

Her expression was solemn, but full of regret. “I feel responsible.”

He let her go. “I don’t know what I think about responsible.”

She folded her hands. “Let’s just be honest and see what kind of relationship we can salvage.”

“I want a marriage.” He still didn’t mention the business. Eventually, she’d understand. Between the twins and her memory loss, he couldn’t add to the pressure on her.

He’d been afraid she’d leave if he admitted his lie about the company had caused all their problems. Now, he kept the embezzlement to himself because he wanted to protect his wife and their unborn children. This time, he was right to try to protect her.

CHAPTER FOUR

CATE HARDLY SLEPT the night before she was scheduled to go home. The next day’s possibilities ran furiously around her mind. With Caroline’s help she’d already begun to collect clues about her life. Now, to piece her past and present into one cohesive puzzle.

Lights from the nighttime traffic danced on her walls as crazily as her thoughts until she began to pick out repeating patterns that calmed her. An occasional jet roared overhead, rousing her when she was getting sleepy. She finally dozed off just before dawn.

A crack of thunder brought her straight up in bed. Its rumble slowly faded, and an early-summer downpour sheeted rain across her window.

She woke each morning, thinking the same question. Would she remember?

Not today. She sensed everything she needed to know, hanging just beyond her reach. No amount of determination brought her answers.

Impatiently, she slid out of bed, but the moment she was vertical, nausea gripped her. She clung to the table, waiting for her stomach to settle. Dr. Davis had suggested saltine crackers, but they only seemed to make her queasier.

Pushing herself to use her weakened legs, she traveled from bureau to bed to pack the small, violently floral overnight bag Aunt Imogen had brought her.

By the time she snapped the catch on her bag, the rain had begun to ease off. Cate perched on the side of her bed to wait for Alan or Dr. Barton. After a few long seconds, she crossed the room to open her door. Then she hobbled back toward her chair. Footsteps in the hall made her look over her shoulder.

Alan stopped in the doorway. His brooding expression suggested strength. His sheer size backed up the claim. He looked from her to her bag. “I came early to help you.”

At the slight reproach in his tone, she wished she’d waited. She’d already learned he showed his feelings through service. “The rain woke me early.” She pointed toward the hall he dwarfed with his height. “Is Dr. Barton out there?”

Shaking his head, he turned to peer down the hall to his right. His white oxford shirt lovingly caressed the strong, straining muscles of his upper back. Bracing his hand against the door frame, he twisted to look the other way. The worn shirt stretched almost out of the narrow waist of his jeans. Another shake of his head, and rich, dark strands of his hair rubbed his tanned neck. Did he know how good he looked?

“I was hoping Barton might have signed your release papers already.”

“No.” She tried to sound normal, but hollow, electric bursts of attraction came as a relief. If she planned to stay married, wanting her husband had to be a plus. “Do we have to wait?”

“You’re all set?”

She nudged the bag. “I’ve packed everything except for the magazines and books you all brought me. The book cart lady suggested giving them to the other patients.”

“Good idea.” Stepping back from the door frame, he looked a touch uneasy. “Why don’t you sit and rest your leg? I’ll look for Dr. Barton.” Alan paused. “Dan’s waiting for us in the parking lot.”

“Dan?” That put a crimp in her plan. She wasn’t sure how she’d react to a home she didn’t remember, and she didn’t want to risk disappointing her son. They’d formed a tentative bond that day he’d explained about Aunt Imogen’s tape.

“He thought we should take you home as a family.” Alan paused, his gaze pensive. “If he needs family time because he’s been worried about you, I say we all go home together.”

She eyed him carefully. They were both Dan’s parents, but Alan knew him better. She thought back to the day Caroline had told her she didn’t share personal troubles. Her instincts hadn’t changed, but she had to take a chance for Dan. “What if he expects me to be comfortable at home? I won’t know the house. I don’t have a clue about his life or what kind of mother I’ve been.”

Alan tapped the door frame, his gaze bemused. “You don’t have to give Dan much. He just wants you home.” His deep voice drew a shiver down her spine. Left unspoken in his husky reassurance was a hint he wanted her there, too. “Maybe you should try not to think of Dan as a child. He’s trying hard to become an adult.”

Dr. Barton appeared behind him, carrying the clipboard that held her chart. Alan moved out of his way, but the doctor stopped, clearly discerning stress in the air.

“Am I interrupting?”

Cate shook her head, still digesting everything Alan had said. “Can I go?”

“Don’t rush me. How do you feel? Any morning sickness? How’s the leg?”

“My leg’s fine, but I feel sick as a dog.”

“Sometimes morning sickness lasts and lasts in a pregnancy.” He flipped up a page on her chart. “I see the nurse liked the look of your wound last night.”

Cate picked up her bag. Alan started toward her, but Dr. Barton stopped him.

“What’s your hurry? Cate has to wait for a wheelchair, and you might want to bring your car around. I’ll walk out with you.” He scrawled notes on the chart. “Cate, I believe I covered all your instructions last night?”

She nodded. “But you can tell me anything you want to say to Alan. I’m not an invalid.”

The older man laughed. “You’re getting paranoid.” His bland smile annoyed her. “Once you’re home, take it easy. If you want to exercise, walk on the beach, but take water along. I don’t want you to get dehydrated. Call me if you have any questions. Oh, and Dr. Davis asked me to remind you about your appointment with her.”

“I have the card she gave me.”

“Fine.” He capped his pen and held the chart to his chest as he extended his hand. “Good luck to you, Cate Palmer.”

She ignored his hand, forgave him for his chauvinistic urge to talk about her with Alan and hugged him. “Thank you for everything.”

Alan’s bewildered gaze told her she rarely hugged spontaneously. She wasn’t surprised after her talk with Caroline, but she didn’t like thinking of herself as a woman who withheld affection.

After a brisk squeeze, the doctor released her and turned to Alan. “She’s going to be fine. Better than ever. Let’s go. I’ll tell the nurses you’re ready, Cate.”

They left, and Cate felt painfully alone. What kind of woman would be better than ever because she hugged her doctor? A frightened one who wasn’t sure people would return her affection? Cate shook her head and chose not to be frightened anymore.

STRIDING BESIDE Dr. Barton, Alan glanced back at Cate’s door. Her concern for Dan made him feel even guiltier about their fiscal jam. He had to fix it before she found out anything was wrong. He’d made his decision to help her, not to hurt her. He hoped he wasn’t kidding himself when he tried to believe she’d forgive him.

“Alan, slow down. You don’t have to worry about Cate.” Dr. Barton hurried, the sound of his footsteps ricocheting off the pale-blue walls.

Alan’s heart thudded in time, but he shortened his stride. “You don’t understand.”

“I do. She’s not the wife you knew, but she’s charming, and she wants her life back. She’ll benefit by returning to her old habits.”

Barton had to be right, and yet…“Is she more likely to remember at home?”

“Seeing the places and people she loved may stimulate her memory, but I can’t promise you. Just take good care of her. If she seems down or upset, and you don’t know what to do for her, persuade her to call me.”

Alan nodded. “As long as she tells me how she feels.”

“You’ll know. She isn’t a complete stranger. The Cate we know is still inside her. Are you afraid you can’t wait for her?”

What if he didn’t know the real Cate? Maybe she’d never told him how she truly felt. How much had they hidden from each other? Alan lifted his eyebrows. “I’ll wait.” What else could he do? Except patience had never been his strong suit. “Cate’s my wife.”

Dr. Barton’s thin smile implied he shared Cate’s opinion of that statement. What did they expect? He wanted the Cate he’d married. Did that mean he wasn’t a good man?

A good man’s wife would have told him about their unborn twins. She would have trusted him enough to share news that must have shocked her.

The day of the accident Cate had been angry enough, disappointed enough—maybe even hurt enough to believe he had no right to know about his own children. Why hadn’t he realized then how far apart they’d grown?

“Alan, I wonder if I should let you leave without talking to someone. You wouldn’t be normal if you weren’t unsettled about your future with Cate.”

“We have to make a future. Can a stranger tell me how to do that?”

Big talk from the little man who’d been the last to know.

Alan punched the elevator button. His lie about the business was no foundation for a new life. But he cared for his family, and he’d provide for his wife.

Bracing himself to start a future he only half trusted, Alan shook the other man’s hand. “I’m grateful for the care you’ve given Cate.”

“My pleasure. I’ll say goodbye here because I’m in the middle of rounds, but remember what I told you.”

“I will. I’m sorry if I’ve been abrupt.”

“You have a right.” The doctor pulled his pen out of his pocket. “You know my phone number, Alan?”

He frowned. “I can find it. Why?”

“If you need to talk, call me. Don’t fume about your problems alone. Dan and Imogen and Ford depend on you as much as Cate does.”

Barton’s grasp of his weakness made him smile. “Good advice. I’ll remember.”

The elevator doors jittered open, and he stepped inside. He avoided looking at Dr. Barton as he pushed the lobby button. The elevator jerked once before it began to descend.

The doctor might be right. He wasn’t himself, but his resolve built with every inch of space he put between himself and Cate’s room. Never, in all their marriage, had she leaned on him easily. She’d always held parts of herself back as if she had to force herself to share. Now, with their past and her memories beyond her reach, even she needed him. If she leaned on him, he’d support her.

He stepped off the elevator in the lobby to find Dan sprawled in a big chair. “I thought you wanted to wait in the car,” Alan said. “Why didn’t you come up?”

Faint color dusted Dan’s fuzz-covered, youthful cheeks. He shrugged with his mother’s reserve. “I thought you’d want some privacy. Besides you had to come through here sooner or later. Where’s Mom?”

“Waiting for a wheelchair. Why don’t we get the car?”

Dan tossed him the keys.

Alan caught them. “You can drive if you want, son.”

“I always make Mom nervous.”

“You’re a sensitive guy.” Alan garnered a sheepish grin from his son. Side by side, they pushed through the glass doors into light, warm rain and a rumble of dying thunder. “Where did you park the car?”

“This way,” Dan said and started toward the parking lot.

As he followed, Alan resisted an urge to tell his loose-limbed son not to slouch. He’d parked Cate’s SUV in a spot not too far from the entrance. They got in and Alan started the engine.

He parked beneath the canopy at the hospital entrance. A nurse pushed Cate through the doors in a wheelchair. His wife’s stiff posture suggested she remained a woman who accepted assistance only under duress.

“Boy, she’s pissed about the wheelchair,” Dan said.

“Have you ever said the word pissed to Mom or me before?” Alan opened his door. “Don’t say it around her.”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.