Golden Vows (20 page)

Her hand crept quietly, protectively, to her stomach and like a glimpse of light in a dense fog she realized what he must think of her. Lifting her gaze to his face, she felt the white-hot heat of his anger scorch her.

“You’re a fool, Amanda, if you think, for one second that I’ll allow you to terminate this pregnancy.” His voice faltered, then steadied. “I don’t give a damn about what you think you can’t do. You’re so wrapped up in self-pity
that you’re not capable of loving anyone but yourself. Right now you’re certainly not demonstrating any love for our unborn child. And don’t tell me you’re afraid of what might happen. Everyone’s afraid, Amanda. Even me. But you can’t see that. All you can see is the past. You can’t forget the past.

“Well, you’re not going to blame me because you can’t cope with life, not this time.” Dane consciously slowed the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he stared dispassionately at her pale face. Her eyes seemed huge and misted with betrayal, but he hardened his heart against the sympathetic tug. He’d sheltered her long enough—that was his mistake—but he couldn’t, he
wouldn’t
, do it anymore.

“I’ve tried to understand. Tried to be patient with you and give you time to come to grips with your emotions, but I don’t have any patience left. When I came back from overseas, I wanted and needed to comfort you, but you turned from me at every opportunity. So I told myself it was the circumstances; you couldn’t think of anyone except our child. I could accept that, but then he died and you rejected my need to share that grief with you. I wanted to hold you, to give you my strength and to draw strength from you, but you didn’t need me.” His voice was low, but thick with anger. “The night he died, I was so empty, so completely destroyed, but all of my emotions seemed insignificant when I thought of you and how I had to help you survive the loss of our son.”

He altered his stance, turned away from her, turned back. “I was so concerned for you, Amanda. And do you know what you said?
‘It should have been me. I should have died too.’
” His hand brushed at his hair, then jammed down into his pocket in barren remembrance.

“Do you know what that did to me, Amanda? Have you even once considered how I felt or that I hurt every bit as much as you did? Damn you, Amanda. I’m tired of fighting you and I’m tired of fighting for you. Everyone is entitled to his own private hell, so don’t expect me to share yours any longer. I’ve found my own.” Pivoting from the lost expression on her face, he walked from the house, slamming the door behind him with loud finality.

The sound of his leaving echoed through the empty house just as his words echoed violently through her mind, shattering the wall of protection around her heart in one blow. With rapid-fire clarity his accusations seared the truth into her soul.

How could she have been so blind? So insensitive? So utterly selfish? She hadn’t considered him at all. Since she had carried the baby in her womb and given birth, she had believed that his feelings were less important, less intense than her own.

He had needed her, wanted the comfort she could give, but she had shut him out because she’d thought he couldn’t understand, couldn’t share the depths of her grief. She had withdrawn from him at the first sign of pain and, in doing that, she had selfishly denied them both a vital part of loving.

Oh, Dane. I’m so sorry.
It was a hollow apology. It meant nothing. Nothing. He had left....

A sob rose in her throat and fear took on a totally different meaning. Dane had left and she—oh, God, she had to stop him. She ran, knowing she couldn’t let him leave. Not now. Not ever.

Jerking open the front door, she rushed onto the porch and her heart plunged to a halt when she saw him standing there. His hand gripped the wooden
post and his back was to her. He stiffened at the sound of her appearance.

“This is as far as I could go,” he stated scornfully. “Where you’re concerned, I don’t seem to have the courage of my convictions. I love you, Amanda. I don’t know how such simple words can convey all I feel for you. How can saying I love you reveal the emptiness, the total nothing I am without you? How can it describe the inanity of just waking up alone? I wish I could walk away without a backward glance. I wish I could hate you, turn this futile needing and longing and yearning for you into hatred. But I don’t even have the strength to do that. I don’t have any fight left. I love you.” His jaw clenched in agonizing control and his voice faltered into a heart-rending whisper. “I just—love you.”

In her whole life Amanda had never felt so humble, so completely unworthy. While she had been searching for a way to apologize for the unforgivable, he had forgiven her. From a heart that loved beyond her comprehension, he’d forgiven her.

A solitary tear formed on her lashes and slipped onto her cheek, lingering there in helpless humility. “Don’t leave me, Dane,” she pleaded softly. “Please, I want this baby—your baby, but more than that I want you. I need you. Now and always.”

He turned. His eyes were liquid dark as he stared at the teardrop on her cheek and then gently lifted its shimmering wetness onto his fingertip. His face blurred as another teardrop replaced the first and was quickly followed by another and another.

Amanda raised her hand to his cheek in mute offering. “Until just now I didn’t know what loving really meant. But I love you, Dane. I don’t know how I can ever show you, but….” The tears bunched and clogged in her throat and she gave in to their healing river.

With a sigh Dane pulled her into his arms, quietly glad that he was there to hold her.
Cry, Amanda
, he told her in his heart.
Cry. Feel again. Love again. Cry. And when you’re through, I’ll still be here, holding you, loving you. Always loving you.

When the tears dwindled to a mist, she pressed a kiss to his dampened shirt and looked into his eyes, eyes that were as moist as her own. Her love swelled as the wall around her heart dissolved and she committed herself to him without reservation.

“The past can’t hurt us anymore,” she said. “Nothing will separate us again. I won’t allow it. I’ll fight to keep you close to me. You’ll have to share my fears during these next few months, because I can’t face them without you.”

His hand stroked her face. “Everything will be all right with this baby. It has to be. But whatever comes, we’ll share it, good or bad, happiness or sorrow. Promise me that you’ll share it all with me, Amanda.”

“I promise.” No matter what happened, as long as she had his love, everything would be all right.

It was almost spring. A time of new life, new beginnings. “Dane,” she whispered. “I think it’s time for us to go home.”

His smile was like the rainbow after the storm. “Don’t you know that in my arms you’re already there?”

“Home,” she whispered in soft, sweet contentment. “Forever.”

As he bent to seal her vow with his lips, the promise drifted upward to catch on the wind like a benediction, sacred and enduring ... forever.

Copyright © 1984 by Karen Whittenburg

Originally published by Dell (044013093X)

Electronically published in 2012 by Belgrave House

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.