Debbie Macomber's Cedar Cove Series, Volume 2 (43 page)

“What if I tell you how much I love you every day for the rest of our lives?” he asked. “Would that be enough?”

Rachel smiled. “That would definitely be a good place to start.”

“Now about starting something else—our family.”

“Yes?”
This
was a subject Rachel could get excited about.

“Y
ou were right about the knitting.”

The young female voice seemed to come out of nowhere. Startled, Faith Beckwith looked up from the pattern book she was studying. She sat at a table in The Quilted Giraffe, searching for a knitting project, only to find Troy's daughter, Megan, staring down at her.

“Megan.” She hoped the shock didn't show in her eyes. It took her an instant to get past the fact that this was Troy's daughter. Despite her intentions, forgetting about him was a futile effort. “How are you feeling?”

“Really good,” Megan said, then lowered her voice. “This pregnancy feels so different from my first one.”

“I'm glad to hear it,” Faith murmured, genuinely happy for Troy's daughter.

“I haven't told anyone about the baby. Except Craig. I
had
to tell my husband.”

“Of course you did.” Faith was relieved to hear that. She hated the thought of Megan keeping this pregnancy to herself.

“My dad and my in-laws don't know yet.” She hesitated. “It's hard not to tell my dad.”

“Then why don't you?” Faith asked. Troy would make a wonderful grandfather.

“We're really close,” Megan went on to say. “I don't want him to worry unnecessarily.” She smiled slightly as she pulled out a chair and sat next to Faith. “I have a good feeling, though.”

“You'll know when the time's right to tell your father and your in-laws,” Faith said without meeting her gaze. It felt odd to speak about Troy in such an abstract way. She noticed, however, that Megan looked healthy. Color showed in her cheeks and her eyes were clear and bright.

“I was glad when I saw you here,” Megan said as she set her gigantic purse on the table. “You were so helpful the day I went to the clinic.”

“Actually, it was my first day on the job.”

“You're kidding!”

Faith laughed softly.

“I felt like you were there just for me. I was feeling so emotional. You calmed me down, and after we talked, I felt…a real sense of hope.”

Faith was grateful for those kind words.

“But it was more than that,” Megan continued. “You said knitting would be good for me. You were right. Every time I feel anxious about the baby, I pick up my needles and I remember what you said. It's almost as if…” She hesitated again. “I don't want you to get the wrong impression or anything, but you said exactly what I would've wanted my mother to say.”

“I'm sure your mother would have been just as reassuring if she was with you.”

“I miss her every single day,” Megan said. She sniffled loudly. Obviously embarrassed, she searched inside her purse for a tissue. “My hormones are so out of whack these days, I burst into tears at the drop of a hat.” She tried to laugh and only half succeeded.

“I was like that when I was pregnant,” Faith told her. “I can remember watching a rerun of the old Mary Tyler Moore show, the one where Chuckles the Clown dies. Even though it's a comedy, I was bawling my head off and then all of a sudden I was laughing and crying at the same time.”

“You liked
The Mary Tyler Moore Show?
” Megan asked, her eyes wide. “My mother and I used to watch it at the care facility. I know exactly which episode you're talking about. That was Mom's very favorite show.”

Then, as if she'd suddenly remembered why she was at the fabric store, Megan reached inside her purse and brought out her knitting. “I came here hoping I could find someone to help me with this.” She set her yarn and needles on the table.

Faith saw immediately that Megan had stopped knitting in the middle of a row, never a good idea.

“I'm afraid I dropped a stitch and I didn't know what to do next.”

“I can help you with that,” Faith murmured, looking at the half-completed baby blanket.

Retrieving a crochet hook from her own knitting bag, Faith captured the renegade stitch and wove it into place. Then she slipped it back on the needle. “There,” she said calmly. “Now you can finish the row. You saw how I did that, didn't you?”

Megan nodded. “I should probably buy a crochet hook, shouldn't I?”

“It's an excellent tool to have.”

“Okay, I'll do it today. Thank you so much.”

“My pleasure.” Faith glanced down at the pattern book and tried not to think about Troy and how much she missed him.

“Would you…I mean…” Megan looked uncertain. “I realize you're working at the clinic and you don't really know me…”

“Yes?” Faith prompted.

“Would it be all right if I came to see you sometime? Not as a patient, though.”

“You mean as a friend?” Faith asked.

Megan nodded eagerly. “Like on your coffee break or maybe even for lunch.”

Faith was in a quandary. If Troy learned about their friendship, he'd assume she'd somehow arranged this because of him. He'd assume she was trying to reconnect with him through his daughter and nothing could be further from the truth.

“Would it be improper?” Megan asked, frowning.

“Not…improper,” Faith said.

“Perhaps we could meet outside the clinic,” Megan suggested, as if she'd stumbled upon the perfect solution.

“We could meet here at the store, I suppose,” Faith said. “I'd be happy to help you with your knitting. This blanket's an excellent project but I could also show you how to knit booties and a hat for the baby to wear home from the hospital.”

“You could?”

“I…could,” Faith told her. “I have a pattern I use whenever there's a new baby in the family. We could meet right here at the table they have for classes.”

“That's great! Thank you, Faith.” Megan paused, a look of concern in her eyes. “Is it okay if I call you Faith?”

“Of course. Faith is just fine.”

They set a date for the following week and Faith wondered—fearing for her own peace of mind—if this was such a smart idea. She hadn't meant to get involved with Troy's daughter. Yet, at the same time, Megan was emotionally needy, especially with this second pregnancy so soon after losing the first.

Still, Troy might think—

No. She would not allow Troy Davis into her mind. It was over. If she became friends with Megan, it would have nothing to do with Troy. Megan was her own woman. So was Faith.

When she returned home from the fabric store, Faith made a pot of tea, then sat down in her living room. She'd found a lovely natural-fiber yarn in earth tones and had decided to knit a sample afghan. Eager to start the project, she picked up her needles and the new yarn and was about to cast on stitches when the doorbell rang.

Although it was only a little past four in the afternoon, the day had already grown dark. Faith turned on her porch light and checked the peephole in the door.

And then she saw him.

Troy Davis.

No doubt he'd heard about Megan and Faith meeting and felt he needed to wade right in, making unwarranted assumptions and judgments. If that was the case, and it probably was, Faith didn't intend to listen. She didn't require
his
permission to see Megan.

With reluctance she unlocked the door and opened it. She'd hung an evergreen wreath on the outside, and the scent, with its memories of childhood Christmases, wafted into the room.

Still in uniform, Troy stood there, his hat in hand. “Hello, Faith.”

“Troy.” She nodded, keeping her voice level and cool.

“Can we talk for a few minutes?” he asked when she didn't immediately open the door.

Without smiling, she unlatched the screen door and he came inside.

She noticed that he'd lost a few pounds since she'd last seen him almost two weeks ago and wondered briefly if he'd been ill. Worried despite her own resolve, she watched him closely—as if she were starved for the very sight of him, she thought with disgust.

She didn't
want
to care about Troy Davis. Didn't want to feel even a flicker of emotion. Letting him back into her life would only bring more pain. He'd proved that.

Troy entered the living room. “Would it be all right if I sat down?” he asked.

Faith nodded. Her lack of welcome and warmth went against the grain, but she was protecting herself. She had no choice.

She sat down again in the overstuffed chair that was her favorite and Troy took the one across from her. He sat on the edge of the cushion, hat still in his hand.

He didn't speak for an interminable moment. “You're looking well,” he finally said.

“Thank you,” she returned stiffly. She had to bite her tongue to keep from bragging how well she really was and how nicely she'd gotten along without him.

He nodded. “I was thinking…”

Faith reached for her knitting needles, needing something to occupy her hands.

“I was thinking, actually I was hoping, you might be free for dinner tonight.”

Faith set the needles in her lap and raised her eyebrows. “I beg your pardon? Did you just ask me to dinner?”

“Yes. Cedar Cove has several good restaurants and—”

“How
dare
you, Troy Davis.”

He blanched.

“Did I hear you wrong two months ago, not to mention last week? Did I somehow misconstrue your words or intentions?”

Troy frowned uncertainly.

“As I recall, you said it would be best if we no longer saw each other. That's the way I remember it, so correct me if I misunderstood.”

“I did say that,” he agreed. “But at the time I didn't have any idea how difficult that would be. I love you, Faith.”

“No, you don't,” she said flatly, unwilling to fall under his spell yet again.

His head snapped back as if she'd struck him.

“If you loved me,” she continued in a cold voice, “you wouldn't have been so quick to break my heart. You have a habit of doing that, Troy, and I'm through. This was the last time.” She picked up her knitting again, avoiding his eyes. “As for your dinner invitation—”

He didn't allow her to finish. “I've missed you, Faith.”

She'd missed him, too, more than she wanted to admit, but that didn't change what he'd said—that he could no longer see her. She recognized how concerned he was about his daughter, and she sympathized, especially now that she'd met Megan. She would've understood if he'd asked for her patience. Instead he'd cut her out of his life. Just like that. If she hadn't pressured him, he wouldn't even have given her a reason. Oh, no. She was done with Troy Davis.

“Not a day passes that I don't think about you,” he murmured.

She refused to look at him.

“Whenever I drive past your house, I call myself every kind of fool.”

“I have a few other names I could add to your vocabulary.”

She hadn't meant it as a joke, but he laughed.

“Yes, I suppose you could.”

Her hands tightened around the knitting needles.

“It's taken me this long to find the courage to come to your door. It isn't dinner I'm asking for, Faith. What I really want…is a second chance.”

She pinched her lips together. “Isn't it a
third
chance?”

“Third?”

“You broke my heart when I was a teenager.”

“Oh, come on, Faith, not that again. You broke mine, too, and if you're blaming me for that, then you're way off base.”

“I don't think so.”

“Your mother lied to me,” he reminded her.

“And you believed her! You didn't even talk to me. You took her at her word and went about your merry way and met Sandy.”

“You met Carl and married
him
quickly enough.” Anger flared in his eyes.

There was no point in arguing. They were at a standstill, neither of them willing to budge.

“That was years ago,” Troy said after a tense moment. “As far as I'm concerned, it was unfortunate, but it happened. We both went on with our lives and found other people. You married a good man and I married a woman I loved. We both had families. Everything turned out the way it was meant to be.”

He made it all sound so reasonable. Troy didn't know how many nights she'd cried herself to sleep back in college, wondering why he'd dumped her—why he'd been so cruel. Yes, she'd met and married Carl but getting over Troy hadn't been easy. She'd genuinely loved him then—and she genuinely loved him now.

“Fate brought us back together,” he murmured.

“And then you blew it.”

“I did, and I apologize,” he said without hesitation.

At least he admitted that much.

“I assumed Megan wouldn't accept another woman in my life,” he explained, “especially so soon after Sandy's death.”

Faith was curious as to whether Megan had mentioned her. Since she'd kept her pregnancy a secret from her father and in-laws, Faith suspected she hadn't said anything about their recent friendship, either.

“Megan's my only child and I love her, but I have my own life.” He paused, then added in a soft, coaxing voice, “Right now my life feels very empty without you.”

Faith could feel herself weakening.

“Shall we try again?” Troy asked.

Despite her stubborn insistence that they were through, she wavered. He watched her, waiting, his expression hopeful. Faith forced herself to look away. “I need to think about it.” She paused. “Are you
sure
this time, Troy?”

“I'm sure.”

Faith wanted to trust him but was afraid to. She knew she couldn't tolerate another rejection, another betrayal. “I'm not ready to make that decision yet,” she said.

For a fleeting moment Troy seemed disappointed. But his demeanor quickly changed, becoming more businesslike. “Fair enough.” He stared down at his hat as if carefully considering his next statement. “I'll tell you what. Once you've made your decision, you let me know.”