A Self-Made Man (22 page)

She didn't speak. But she still hadn't pulled away, so he allowed himself to hope. The sun was gilding her hair, and catching on the soft folds of her sleeveless dress. Maybe it was a trick of the warm, golden light, but she didn't seem quite as cold now.

He couldn't quite remember his eloquent scripted arguments, and what he could remember didn't sound right. Perhaps, he thought, it would be better just to stumble through, letting the ebb and flow of her reactions guide him. Maybe however unpolished these unrehearsed pleas might be, maybe she could at least recognize that they were honest, and from his heart.

“I was a fool to leave you ten years ago. Worse. I was a selfish, egotistical bastard. I was so busy chasing my own personal dreams. I guess I thought you'd wait forever, if necessary, for me to catch that dream. I never once seriously considered the possibility that I might be destroying the bigger dream, the one we had shared together.”

He had let his voice grow conspicuously impassioned. People were passing by, turning their heads curiously. But he didn't let it stop him. At least she was listening.

“But I'm not that big a fool anymore, Lacy. Yesterday, when I was getting ready to go to New York, I couldn't face it. Just the thought of leaving here without you nearly killed me. And it made me realize the truth.”

“Which is?” She sounded guarded, determinedly unimpressed.

“The truth is that I don't care what happened before. It just doesn't matter. I don't need any details. I don't need any explanations. Because I
know
you, Lacy. I know that you are gentle, and loving, and full of more honor and courage than anyone I've ever met. Whatever you did, you did because you thought it was the only choice you had. The only choice I had left you.”

She made a low, unhappy sound. Had he said the wrong thing? He searched frantically, looking for a new way to put it. Surely somewhere was the phrase that would convince her, that would thaw her….

“Lacy, can't we just find a way to forget the past? What you did, what I did—can't we—”

“I didn't do anything,” she said suddenly.

He looked at her, worried. Her hand had begun to tremble slightly. Her eyes were gleaming in the sunset, as if she might weep melted-gold tears.

“Lacy.” He could hardly bear the sight. Hadn't she cried enough for one lifetime? If she would only let him, he would devote his life to making sure she never cried again. “Lacy, it's all right. I swear to you. It doesn't matter.”

“I didn't do anything,” she repeated, as if she hadn't heard him. She suddenly looked so lost, her eyes so wide and vulnerable, as if she were caught in an endlessly repeating circle of the past. “I want to tell you. Can you bear to listen?”

“Of course,” he said, hoping it was true. “Of course I can.”

She put her take-out box carefully on the ground. Then, taking her hand slowly from his, she moved to sit against the edge of the window box, as if she didn't have the strength to tell her story and stand erect at the same time.

The box was filled with red and yellow snapdragons, which were beginning to fade to gray in the deepening twilight. She feathered her fingers across the small, rounded blossoms, obviously stalling. Finally she took a deep breath and began.

“I didn't choose to get rid of our child, Adam. It was just one of those horrible, unpredictable disasters.” She inhaled sharply. “I was only about four months along. It was so early. And yet already the baby felt so real to me. I could imagine how it would look. Like you, I hoped. With your blue eyes.”

She shook her head. “That's all I had asked for. I wanted someday to be able to look into your blue eyes again.”

He moved closer to her, sharing the shadow of the alcove. He wasn't sure he could speak.

“They never could tell me what went wrong. They just didn't know. I simply began to…to bleed.” She closed her eyes. “And there was this pain.”

“Lacy.” His blood began to run strangely slow and cold. “Lacy, no.”

“Malcolm got me to the hospital as soon as he could. You have to give him credit for that, even though obviously he hadn't ever wanted the baby. He did try. But the doctors couldn't do anything. The pain just got worse, and worse.”

She took another ragged breath. “And then it was over. Just like that. This little being, this little life that was the only thing I had left of you—”

He made a strangled sound, and he knelt in front of her, pulling her toward him roughly.

“Oh, my God,” he said hoarsely. “Oh, my love.”

She held herself stiffly for a few desperate seconds, and then, all at once, he felt the resistance flow out of her. She leaned down and touched his face.

“After that, I couldn't make myself care about much of anything. I offered to divorce Malcolm. He had married me to protect our child—and then, suddenly there was no child.” Her hand trembled slightly.

“But he didn't want a divorce, did he?” Adam knew the answer to that one. Malcolm Morgan had wanted Lacy from the beginning. He had only been
waiting for the brass ring to circle close enough that he could reach out and grab it. And Adam, fool that he was, had provided the opportunity by leaving town.

“No. He didn't want a divorce. He insisted that he deserved more thanks than that—after all, he had been willing to give another man's child a name, and a home, and security. And he was right. So I stayed. I entertained his friends, cared for his home, let him show me off like a trick pony. I went to school, and I became whatever he wanted me to be.” She swallowed hard. “Except a mother. I refused him that.”

Adam's mind flinched from the thought of those five wretched years she had spent serving time as Malcolm Morgan's trophy bride.

But if she could endure the reality, the least he could do it face the idea. He imagined her waking up, every day, knowing she was trapped. He thought of that beautiful home, that flawless wardrobe, that whole town full of people who envied Malcolm Morgan for having such a perfect wife.

She had played her role without missing a cue. Malcolm had persuaded her that he had “saved” her, and because her honor was without measure, Lacy had paid her debt a thousand times over.

“I'm sorry,” he said again, his voice strangely thick, almost unrecognizable. “I'm sorry I left you here, with no one to turn to except a man who would exact such a terrible price for helping you.”

She didn't speak. It was as if she had worn herself out telling the tragic story, and she could only fold
herself limply against him, borrowing his strength until she could recover her own.

“You have every right to hate me. I can't ask for your forgiveness, Lacy, because I don't deserve it. But I want you to know that I love you. I have thought about you every minute of the past ten years, even after I knew you belonged to another man.”

She turned her face into his neck, and her grip on his shoulders tightened. But still she didn't speak.

He touched her soft, dusky hair. “It isn't enough, I know that. Love can't bring back the ten years you lost. It can't bring back our child. But I want you to know this. I will always love you. Even if you tell me to go away, even if I never see you again, I—”

Finally she lifted her head, and the look in her eyes startled him. It looked like panic.

Could that mean…? He cupped his hands around her face. “I'll do whatever you say, Lacy. I'll go if you ask me to. Is that what you want?”

She didn't respond. He asked again. “Do you want me to go away?”

She seemed to be searching his face, as if she might find the answer written somewhere on his features. And it was, he thought. The answer was love. And it was written all over him—if only she could see it.

“I lost you once, and I survived,” she said quietly. “And I'm stronger now. Perhaps I could survive it again.”

He held his breath. He braced himself for the worst. He had promised that he would leave, if she said the word. But now that she seemed ready to ask him to
do exactly that, he wondered whether he would be able to honor such an insanely noble vow.

“You are the strongest woman I've ever known,” he said. “I don't think you need me, Lacy. The truth is that I am the one who needs you.”

“I am strong,” she agreed. “But even so—” She hesitated, and he thought he saw the first ghost of a smile beginning to play at her lips. “Even so, I'm not sure I'm strong enough to come right out and ask the man I love to leave me.”

His body understood the words before his mind did. Relief spread like electricity through his veins. Then, as her message finally reached his brain, he exhaled the breath he'd been holding for what seemed like forever.

She didn't want him to go. He tightened his hands and pulled her in closer, until their lips were only inches apart. His whole body tightened, wanting her. Loving her.

“How strong are you, Lacy? Are you strong enough to come right out and ask me to
stay?
”

“I don't know,” she said, and he recognized the gentle lilt of laughter in her voice. It took him back ten years, to when life was always soft with laughter, and with Lacy. “Am I?”

“Try.” He brushed his lips over hers, deliberately building heat. “Try, Lacy. I want to hear you say it.”

Slowly, she closed her eyes. She tilted toward him, bringing her lips even closer, so close he felt the sweet warmth of her breath mingling with his.

“Will you stay, Adam?” Her words moved against him like soft fire. “Will you stay forever this time?”

“Yes.” In the brief moment before intoxicating joy claimed his senses, in the agonizing second before he claimed the promise of her lips, he found the clarity to answer. “I will stay with you forever. And forever. And a day.”

G
WEN WAS LATE
,
OF COURSE
,
so when Lacy and Adam arrived at the house they let themselves in, using Lacy's old key. Adam, who was carrying the suitcases, whistled as he stepped into the foyer. Lacy couldn't make it past the threshold, stunned by the transformation within.

Apparently the locks were the only things Gwen hadn't changed in this historical house. Gone were the antique furnishings, the bottled ships, the seascapes, the maroon flocked wallpaper.

Instead, the walls were colored in a marvelous, soothing shade of pale green with sparkling white woodwork. The paintings were bold and modern, the pine floors stripped to a simplicity that complemented the uncluttered wooden furnishings.

The new atmosphere was light, sophisticated and contemporary. Lacy loved it. She took a deep breath, as if testing the air. Yes. It was clean. Fresh. She could sense real happiness here.

Of course, in the year she and Adam had been married, she had found happiness just about everywhere she went. It had glittered on the canals of Italy, where they had honeymooned. It lit the walls of her new
office, at the public television station. It gleamed from every room in their gorgeous new Boston town house.

Especially from the nursery. The little blue nursery with its pale wooden rocking chair and its white, lace-ruffled cradle. The nursery that would, in about six weeks or so, be welcoming home their son. Lacy put her hand on her stomach, sharing her joy with him now. He shifted sleepily, as if he understood.

Adam, who had been exploring the parlor, came back and smiled at her. “When Gwen decides to change something, she means business, doesn't she? I don't think she's left a single inch of this house untouched.”

Lacy nodded. But he was wrong. She could see one small thing that remained from the old days. On the mantel, right in front of the colorful brushstrokes of a very expensive modern master, sat the tiny full-masted ship that had once fallen from a table and found its way to freedom.

Adam came up behind her and moving her hair out of the way, kissed her neck. “Do you mind, sweetheart? Do you regret letting her have the house?”

“Of course not,” she said softly, reaching back to run her fingers through his hair. “I couldn't be happier.”

He put his arms around her, smoothing his hands possessively over her stomach. “Good,” he murmured, nibbling kisses against her ear. “The two of us consider it our mission in life to make sure you're always happy.”

A booming roar broke the moment, as a noisy machine rumbled into the front drive. There was a small
crunching sound, followed by a sputtering engine and a low curse from a feminine voice. Adam and Lacy looked out the window to see that Gwen had rammed her motorcycle into the back fender of their car.

Adam's kiss turned into a light chuckle. “The Hell's Angel Schoolmarm has arrived, I see.”

Gwen pulled off her helmet, releasing curls everywhere. And then she dropped her kickstand and swung her long leg over the seat in a rather graceful dismount.

“Well, she's getting better,” Lacy said, smiling. She knew Adam didn't care about the ding in his fender. He had grown to love this gawky, passionate young woman as much as she did.

Gwen came loping up to the house, swinging her backpack full of school assignments from one hand, her helmet from the other. She let out a whoop of delight at the sight of her visitors.

“Oh, my God, look how
big
you are!” She squeezed Lacy in an uninhibited hug, then patted her stomach. “It won't be long before Junior can ride behind me on the Harley!”

“Only about a hundred years,” Adam commented dryly.

Gwen stuck out her tongue at him, but then she reached up and gave him a big hug, too. Lacy felt a strange lump in her throat, watching Gwen's easy affectionate nature. No wonder she had been so rebellious, she thought. All that love, and no one to shower it on.

Gwen peeked around the corner, into the kitchen. “Where's Travis?”

Adam shrugged. “Probably still out on the golf course. He arrived this morning, I think, and he said he was going to play a few holes until you got off work.”

Gwen grimaced. “God. If he hasn't corrected that slice yet, a few holes could take him all day.” She dropped her helmet on the foyer table. “I put you two in my old room. Is that okay?”

“Of course,” Lacy said. “And actually, I think I could use a nap already. I'm such a slug these days. I sleep all the time.”

“Well, that's perfectly natural,” Gwen said firmly. “Your body is doing a lot of extra work here at the end. Are you taking your vitamin supplements? You know, the baby is just going to drain away everything he needs without even asking. And then you won't have enough for yourself.” She paused, grinning. “Sorry. Can you tell I just took a class on this topic?”

“Never would have guessed,” Lacy lied happily. Gwen never ceased to amaze her. Not only was she working full time for Tina Seville—who had miraculously ceased to dislike the suddenly wealthy, landed Morgan heiress. Gwen was also taking Internet classes to work toward her teaching certificate. She'd own her own school one day, Lacy was sure. And her wonderful, creative talents would run that snobby Tina right out of town.

“Oh, by the way, there's a card here somewhere for you. From Tilly. She says to tell you she'll definitely be back in time for the baby.” Gwen eyed Lacy's stomach suspiciously. “Although she'd better hurry, that's all I can say.”

“Don't you dare tell her that,” Lacy ordered. “I want her to have all the time she can with Claire.” A few months after Claire's baby had been born, Tilly and her granddaughter had traveled to Florida for a get-acquainted visit, and they hadn't come home yet. The comfortable intimacy the two had already established filled Lacy with a profound contentment.

“Besides,” she assured Gwen, “I saw the doctor just yesterday, and he says it's definitely another month at least.”

Adam wrapped his arms around her once again, resting his cheek against her hair. “But Gwen might be right, sweetheart. The doctor just might underestimate how eager our son is to meet his beautiful mother.”

He kissed her collarbone, and then her neck. Lacy turned in his embrace, winding her arms around his neck, suddenly so filled with love for him that she could hardly breathe.

“I love you, Adam Kendall,” she said, smiling into his sexy sapphire eyes.

“Not as much as I love you, Mrs. Kendall,” he answered, leaning down, as she had known he would, to kiss her waiting lips.

“Oh,
please,
” Gwen cried out in utter disgust. “Could you two possibly pull yourselves apart long enough to take this upstairs?”

Adam winked at her, then reached down and scooped Lacy into his arms. “It would be our pleasure,” he said. “We thought you'd never ask.”