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Authors: Emilie Richards

Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Family Life, #General

Sister's Choice (35 page)

BOOK: Sister's Choice
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“Only that we’re both wondering if we know how to move on from here.”

She wished she could tell him that for her, moving on had become much more complicated. She could make all the decisions in the world about what she wanted to happen next, and fate could have an entirely different plan for her. But she couldn’t. Telling Grace had been self-indulgent. She had burdened her dear friend, and she shouldn’t have. Telling Cash? Not only would he be appalled and upset, he wouldn’t understand. And she didn’t have the inner strength to get through that particular argument unscathed.

“I don’t think we
should
wonder,” she told him. “I think we should just let things happen. Wondering is a step from worrying, and I don’t want this relationship to be a burden for either of us. Isn’t ‘letting things happen’ another thing we share?”

“Maybe. Or maybe we only thought we did. You’ve played havoc with a few things I thought about myself.”

“That sounds serious. Let’s not be.”

“At your command, Miss Jamie.” He gave an exaggerated wink. “Does that mean tonight we can just let things happen?”

The thought gave her more pleasure than she would have expected, but she certainly didn’t tell him.

“In your dreams. Oh, and if I am in your dreams, lose the bump, okay? Dream about the not-so-pregnant me. Cash, where are we going?”

She realized he had turned off the road and was now taking one that shortly turned to gravel. “Can there possibly be a place to eat here? Are we going to some great-aunt’s house so she can cluck over my unmarried and pregnant state and give me cod-liver-oil advice?”

“By and by you’ll probably meet the Rosslyn side of the family, and although there’s not a Granny Grace in the bunch, there’s also nobody who would stoop to noticing the absence of a wedding ring on that left hand. They’d probably tell you not to attend any funerals, so’s not to mark the unborn babies, but that’s about it.”

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

“That’s right, I haven’t.”

“And you’re not going to. I get it. Surprises.”

“Don’t you love ’em?”

“So long as I don’t have to clean out somebody’s henhouse or catch a mess of catfish and fry them up.”

“That I’d like to see, especially in that dress. Maybe catfish first, then the henhouse.”

“I’m going to sit back and rest, since I have no idea how long this will take.”

“You go right ahead, just don’t get too comfortable.”

Cash took a circuitous route, weaving expertly over back roads, cutting through properties on narrow farm lanes that wound through this field, then that. She glimpsed the river, then she didn’t. When she finally realized where they were, she was mystified.

Fitch Crossing Road.

She waited until he had slowed and turned onto the Taylors’ property.

“All this to get to the cabin? That’s where we’re going to eat?”

“I wanted to make it a picnic and eat in the new house. I thought we’d have the electricity on by now, and the heat, but no such luck. Anyway, I thought you might want to see the house in the moonlight.”

Of course she had been to the house as often as possible, watching her own design become a reality, giving advice when asked—which had been often enough to please her. But she hadn’t been there on a night like this one, the air crisp and clear, the river and its banks lit by a pale winter moon and a sky filling slowly with stars.

He slowed, and the house appeared in front of them. He turned off the engine in the clearing, and they sat staring at the structure, which really was a house now and not simply the skeleton of one.

“This is the ultimate romantic gesture,” she said at last.

“You’re not disappointed?”

“You wonderful man.” Tears filled her eyes.
She
had created this. On paper, yes, but no matter what happened now, this house would remain as a part of the woman she had been. The architect in training. The imagination behind this reality.

“Together, we’re really something, aren’t we?” She turned to him. “Look what we’ve done.”

He kept
his
gaze straight ahead. “I’ve built a lot of houses. Restored a fair number, too. This one’s special. You have an eye for taking advantage of a site, figuring out what to emphasize and what to hide, how to use the traditions of the area in a new way, how not to sacrifice charm and class in a quest for practicality. Your sister and—” he smiled “—
my brother
will be happy living here and raising those kids of theirs. No matter where we each end up, sometimes you and I will come here on holidays to visit them. That makes it more special.”

“That’s a strange thought. We aren’t linked by blood, but now we’re linked by family. We’ll run into each other in the years to come. One way or the other, you’ll watch the girls grow up.”

Now he looked at her. “One way or the other?”

“You know what I mean. Who knows what the future will bring?” At the moment when she’d said “years,” she had been thinking of the future the way she used to before the diagnosis. As if her life stretched into eternity. As if the years ahead were a given, an unquestionable right, when in reality each day would be a gift. Whatever course her future took, there was never a guarantee of years. Now she understood that.

“Well, if I’m going to see the girls grow up anyway, I guess there’s no real need to romance their mother,” Cash said.

“A little romance can sweeten almost any deal. I might visit Kendra more often.”

“Let’s find out.” He started the pickup and backed up, turning into the drive that led to the cabin.

She was surprised to see the trees outside the door adorned with strings of tiny white lights. “Somebody’s a couple of weeks late taking those down. Aren’t they pretty?”

“Aren’t they?” He turned off the engine.

She put her hand on his shoulder to keep him there a moment. “Did you do this for me?”

“I don’t see anybody else around, sweetcakes.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and she sniffed.

“Hey, I didn’t plan to make you cry.”

“I’m not really crying. I’m just…allergic to bright lights.”

“I’ll remember that and forget that weekend in Manhattan after the babies get here.” He got out and came to open her door, which gave her just enough time to sniff again and wipe her eyes with the sleeve of her coat.

“It’s the pregnancy, you know,” she said, as he helped her out. “Pregnant women cry over everything.”

“Then we maybe have a problem coming up. This wasn’t the only nice thing I did.”

She stumbled on a root and pitched forward, and Cash grabbed her as naturally as if he’d been watching out for her forever. “This hardly seems fair. Save one body and get credit for three.”

“I’m a bonus package.”

“That’s how I think of you. A bonus I never expected.”

“I’ve complicated your life.”

He pushed her just far enough away that she was facing him. “You know what’s scary about that? I’m finding I like it.”

“Cash…”

He pulled her close again, and kissed her. Quickly. Thoroughly. Then he slung his arm over her shoulders and propelled her toward the house.

She was thrilled they were here, not in a restaurant where she would have spent the evening trying to get comfortable. She was thrilled it looked like she was going to have him all to herself, too.

Closer to the porch, she could see smoke unfurling from the stone chimney, and lights inside. Once they were standing at the door, she heard the unmistakable vibrato of strings.

“You’ve gone to so much trouble, Cash.”

“Your sister helped.”

“Kendra?”

“Is there another one? Is that one married to a brother I didn’t know about, too?”

“Kendra’s a lot better at keeping a secret than I thought.”

“I guess those Dunkirk girls can be pretty sneaky, huh?”

For a moment she froze, wondering what he meant. “Me?”

“Look how long you were pregnant before you got around to telling me.”

“I
always
have good reasons when I keep a secret.” Someday she hoped he would agree.

Cash opened the door and ushered her inside. The fragrance of wood smoke, of baking bread and roasting meat, drew her farther into the room. She saw that the coffee table had been set with wineglasses, a bottle of sparkling grape juice, and a platter of cheese and crackers. The room was softly lit, and she recognized the music as something by Debussy, which was the biggest surprise of all. Cash was a man of secrets, too.

“I feel so welcomed.” She turned to him. “This is just too wonderful.”

He reached over and wiped away a tear. “Hey, it’s not a hardship being good to you.”

“I guess I’m allergic to wood smoke, too.”

“You’ll just have to get over that, sweetcakes. I’m a big fan of fireplaces. If you want to spend winter nights in my company, you’re going to have to adjust.”

 

Cash wasn’t much of a cook, but he could follow directions and reheat. Kendra, who was the mistress of frozen gourmet, had helped him stock the refrigerator. They’d had roast pork with apple stuffing, a mashed potato casserole so scrumptious that Jamie planned to travel to the ends of the earth to find the recipe, crisply tender green beans with almonds and fresh rolls.

It was definitely a guy-inspired meal, but Jamie was so hungry she ate her portion and a second besides. Along the way she made sure to leave room for a chocolate flourless torte topped with fresh raspberries. She might be a proponent of eating foods in season, but she didn’t care how far these raspberries had traveled to her plate. She ate all those on the torte and finished what was left in the carton.

“I have some kindling you could gnaw,” Cash said after he’d carried their dishes to the kitchen and done the cleanup. “Or I think there’s an old package of peas in the freezer. You could just swallow them whole.”

From the sofa, where Cash had thoughtfully served the entire meal, Jamie sighed with pleasure. “I’m full. Not sure how long that will last, but I am. That was such a wonderful meal, and you’re such a wonderful man to make it for me.”

He smiled at the last, then sobered and said, “You don’t look comfortable.”

“Trust me, this is as comfortable as it gets.”

“I have a better idea.” He took a couple of pillows off the sofa and propped them on top of several more that were already on the rug in front of the fireplace.

“Let’s see if we can make you comfortable down here by the fire.”

“How strong are you?” She cocked her head. “You look like you might be up to the task of hauling me back to my feet eventually. Are you willing?”

“If I can haul an armful of asphalt shingles up a roof, I can probably get you back to a standing position.”

“It’s every woman’s dream to be compared to roofing materials.”

“I considered comparing you to a load of pig manure, but I figured that was too down home for a city girl. Even country boys know the score.” He held out his arms. “Come here and I’ll help you down, too.”

For a moment she hesitated. She wasn’t sure what Cash had in mind, although considering her circumstances, it couldn’t be anything she was opposed to. With that in mind, with just the tiniest assistance, she lowered herself to her knees and finally her bottom. She felt as graceful as Shamu.

Cash settled himself back against the pillows and held out his arms so she could recline against him. She hesitated again but settled herself in his arms anyway.

“I’m trying to figure out where to put my hands,” he said.

She folded them over her bulging belly. “Can you imagine what it’s like for the babies in there?”

“They sure can’t be lonely.”

“Single babies just float around all day and night, no place to go, but room to move. I picture these guys with their arms around each other.” She rested more comfortably against him and sighed.

“Kind of like us, right here and now.”

She was absolutely comfortable. Her back was supported perfectly, and the angle felt heavenly. Even her legs and feet felt better. The only problem was that his arm was brushing against the incision, which was still tender. She’d had swelling, and although the worst of the bruising was gone, the whole area was sensitive still. She’d made certain to check the dress to be sure no telltale discoloration showed above the scooped neckline.

She adjusted his arm so it fell lower.

“Hey, don’t count that as me taking liberties,” he said.

“Just making myself comfortable.”

He relaxed his arms. “Better?”

“I can’t believe how comfortable this is. I might need you to stay like that for the next couple of months.”

“We’d get kind of hungry and smelly, don’t you think?”

“It might be worth it.”

“You’re ready for this pregnancy to end?”

She had been until the breast cancer. Now she knew she would never want any day to end sooner than necessary. Once the twins were born, she would be immersed in negotiations about the next stages of her treatment. Where to have it and exactly what to do. Once the babies were born, she would ask Elisa Kinkade to help her assemble a team of physicians to assume control of her care. With Elisa looking on, she knew she would be in good hands until it was time to move back to Michigan or elsewhere.

If that time came.

“I don’t want these babies born one day earlier than necessary,” she said.

“Will you miss them?”

“I can’t think that way. Besides, I’ll have access whenever I want it. Kendra’s asked me to spend as much time with her in Arlington as I’d like.”

“Will you?”

“I’ll visit, but I won’t hover. She and Isaac need to figure out how to be parents without somebody else giving a lot of advice. And they’re both good with children. They’ll be better organized than I ever was. More inclined to stick to schedules if possible.”

“If they’re half as good as you are with your girls, they’ll do fine.”

“What a nice thing to say.”

“I’ve never seen any woman enjoy her kids as much as you do. But you still manage to act like their mother, not their best friend.”

“This just gets better and better.”

“I’m finished. Can’t let you get a big head.”

BOOK: Sister's Choice
12.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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