Suddenly Married (21 page)

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Authors: Loree Lough

BOOK: Suddenly Married
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“Well, I’ll be thirty in May. Mom brought me to see you for the first time when I was in kindergarten.”

“Ah, yes,” he said, nodding and smiling, “when you nearly lopped off your big toe in the frog pond at Centennial Park.”

Dara laughed at the memory. “I’d almost forgotten about that!”

“You make me feel old, I don’t mind telling you.”

“Why?”

“Because I doctored you when you were barely
more than a baby, and there you sit, having a baby of your own.”

It took a moment or two for the news to sink in. Dara repeated his words in her head:
a baby of your own. A baby of your own!

“It’s perfectly normal to feel tired, especially during the first trimester. But you’re healthy, and you’re young. I think you’ll be fine, just fine.” He grabbed his ballpoint pen and a sheet of prescription paper. “I want you to call this guy,” he said, scribbling another doctor’s name. “He’s one of the best obstetricians in the Baltimore area. He’s busy, but he’ll make room for you if you tell him I sent you.” Peterson tore off the paper, handed it to Dara.

She accepted it with a trembling hand.

“You really had no idea?”

She shook her head. “I thought…There were signs, but I blamed them on nerves. You know, being a newlywed, adjusting to married life, taking care of two active—”

“Stepchildren?”

“I don’t like that term,” she said gently. “Active
children.
I like that much better.”

“I assume from the way you’re glowing, it’s good news.”

“Very good news,” she said, grinning.

Standing, Peterson opened his office door. “Doc Johnston is a great guy. He’ll want to see you once a month, every month, until the third trimester. Then he’ll play it by ear.”

Nodding, Dara walked beside him down the hall.

“He’ll bump up the visits at the end, from once a month to every two weeks. And that last month, he’ll want to see you every single week.” He dropped a
fatherly hand on her shoulder. “Gimme a call now and then to let me know how things are going, okay?”

She smiled. “I will.”

He stood at the next examining room door. “And drink plenty of milk.”

Grinning from ear to ear, Dara pressed a palm to her stomach. A baby, she thought. You’re going to have a baby!

She hurried through the waiting room and across the parking lot.
Lord,
she prayed, driving away from the medical building,
help me keep my mind on the road, because I don’t think my powers of concentration are going to be too good on the drive home.

She couldn’t wait to get there so she could phone Noah and tell him the news.

It was all she could do to control herself through dinner, through the kids’ homework session, through the hour of TV they were allowed to watch before bedtime. They’d worked out a routine in the weeks since Emmaline and Joseph had left—Noah would tuck Bobby in while she listened to Angie’s prayers, then they’d trade off.

Dara finished up first and went downstairs to wait for him in the family room. She’d fixed a special dinner in honor of Valentine’s Day, complete with fresh flowers on the table, and had made all of Noah’s favorites: breaded cubed steaks with roasted potatoes and carrots, spinach salad and a heart-shaped chocolate cake for dessert.

She’d bought him a card, too, and planned to give it to him, along with the tiny box of chocolates she’d bought at the grocery store, when he finished with the children. Her heart hammered when she heard his
stocking feet thudding down the stairs.
Please, Lord Jesus,
she prayed, eyes shut tight, hands clenched,
let him be happy about the baby; let him be happy about the baby!

He didn’t come straight into the family room, as she’d expected. She heard the hall closet door open and close. And then, there he was, standing in the doorway, hands clasped behind him, framed by the hallway light.

“Dinner was terrific,” he told her.

“So you said…about a hundred and fifty times.” She smiled. “So thank you, for the hundred and fiftieth time.”

There was a slight crinkling sound as he walked toward her, which intensified when he sat beside her on the sofa. “I wasn’t sure what to get you,” he began, as one corner of his mouth lifted in a playful grin. “But you don’t strike me as the dozen-red-roses type.”

“Actually,” she said, “I prefer daisies.”

His smile doubled in size when he handed her a huge bouquet…of long-petaled white daisies.

“Noah,” she gushed, “how did you know?”

He shrugged. “Honest?”

“Honest.”

“I have no idea.”

They shared a moment of quiet laughter, then she handed him the little box of candy. “I know how much you like chocolate butter creams,” she explained, laying the card and candy box between them on the sofa.

“That reminds me,” he said, looking at it, sliding a card from his back pocket. He’d folded it in half so it would fit, and he grimaced at it now. “Sorry,” he said, holding it out to her. “Guess I’m not much of a romantic.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, accepting it. “Any
guy who buys his girl her favorite posies on Valentine’s Day is pretty romantic, in my opinion.”

They read their cards, and hugged and thanked each other, and then Noah popped a chocolate into his mouth. “Mmm,” he said around it. “Want one?”

She shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m going to have to start watching what I eat.”

His brow crinkled. “Why? You have a terrific figure.”

“For now.…”

“What?”

She stood, headed for the kitchen. “I’m going to put these in water.”

“I’ll come with you.”

She rooted around in the cabinet under the sink, where she’d stored the vases. After filling one with tap water, she unwrapped the daisies. “I have something to tell you,” she said, plucking withered leaves from the stems.

“What a coincidence. I have something to tell you, too.”

One by one, she arranged the flowers in the vase. “You go first.”

“Okay, if you insist.” He led her across the room, where a battered wooden box stood on the table. “I found this while I was searching for a way to clear your father’s name,” he explained.

“Clear his…” She met his eyes. “Oh, Noah! It’s over? You made the payment, and—”

“Yes, sweetie,” he said. “It’s over. But that isn’t the best news.” He nodded at the box. “Open it.”

She opened it and looked at its contents. Puzzled by the brown leather book on top, she picked it up. “I didn’t know Dad kept a journal,” she said, frowning.

He took it from her, opened to the page he’d marked with a slip of yellow paper. “You can read the rest later,” he said, handing it back to her. “But first, I want you to read this passage.”

Dara sat down, laid the book on the table and began to read as Noah stood beside her. She was silent for a long time after closing the book. And then her gaze met Noah’s. “He did it for Mom.” She sighed. “For
Mom!

Not satisfied with the doctors’ prognosis, Jake had made it his full-time job to find a way to save his wife. He’d surfed the Net, interviewed cancer specialists all over the world, read every book he could get his hands on, as evidenced by the entries Noah had marked. They had one last chance, as Jake saw it, to save Anne…an experimental treatment being developed in England. But it was costly, and added to all Anne’s other medical expenses, Jake didn’t have the funds.

And so he’d borrowed the money from the Pinnacle account. Had written an IOU that detailed the amount of the loan, the date the money had been withdrawn and his plans to replace the funds by selling stocks and bonds. Evidently, worry over Anne’s quickly failing health distracted him, because the IOU never got delivered; it lay there now, pressed between the pages of his journal, as it had for months.

He’d made the final entry in the diary on the morning he’d left for that last trip to England, to secure Pinnacle that corporate-saving deal with Acmic Chemicals. The experimental treatments had failed to help Anne and had only succeeded in increasing Jake’s medical bills. “The minute I get back from London,” he’d written, “I’ll start selling off stocks and bonds to repay Pinnacle’s loan.”

He never said why he hadn’t asked Kurt Turner straight out to make him the loan. Hadn’t said why he’d never mentioned his plans to anyone. Male pride? she wondered. Fear?

But what did it matter now?

Her father
wasn’t
a thief!
That
was the only important thing.

He hadn’t exactly gone about taking the loan in the most aboveboard way, but she knew him. If he had said he intended to put it back, then he would have put it back. If he had lived. If he was guilty of anything, it was false pride.

The tears that had filled her eyes when she’d started reading the journal abated, and she blew her nose on a paper napkin. “What a relief.” She sighed shakily. “What a blessed relief!”

“C’mere,” Noah said, taking her hand. She rose and walked into his outstretched arms.

“Thank you, Noah,” she whispered, kissing him.

“For what?”

“For…” She looked into his eyes and, smiling, said, “For being you, that’s all. Just for being you.”

He grinned modestly and shook his head.

“There’s something in my shirt pocket for you. But I’m not a romantic, remember, I didn’t wrap it.”

“Another present?” She giggled. “Noah, you’re going to spoil me.” She slipped her hand into the pocket, came out with a small, maroon velvet pouch.

“Go on,” he coaxed. “Open it.”

She tugged at the gold drawstring and peered inside, and when she shook it, a tiny cube of tissue paper landed on her upturned palm. She peeled the paper away…

And exposed a sparkling diamond engagement ring.

“Noah!” she gasped. “What have you done!”

“I’ve fallen in love with you, that’s what.” He stood her on her feet, then gently pushed her onto the seat of the chair he’d just vacated. Down on one knee, he took her hand. “Dara Mackenzie,” he whispered, boring deep into her eyes, “will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Her eyes filled with tears and, smiling, she nodded.

Noah slipped the ring onto her finger. “Good,” he said. “I was worried it wouldn’t fit.”

She shook her head.

“What?”

“Say it again.”

Grinning mischievously, he said, “I was worried it wouldn’t fit.”

“Not that, silly!”

“Oh. That.” He swallowed. “Will you do me the honor of—”

She gave his shoulder a playful shove. “Not that, either!”

He got onto both knees, drew her close. “I love you,” he said, lips grazing hers.

Nestled in the crook of his neck, she said, “I love you, too.”

“Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“That was part of it.”

“What is the other part?” he said, holding her at arm’s length.

“I went to the doctor’s today, and—”

Alarm widened his eyes and he gripped her shoulders. “Dara, sweetie. Are you all right? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, Noah. I went to see Dr. Peterson
to find out why I’ve been feeling tired lately, that’s all.”

“Tired? Does he know why? Did he do tests? What did he say?”

Bracketing his face with both hands, she smiled as tears filled her eyes. “He said I’m going to have a baby.”

“A wha—A
baby?

She nodded.

“When?”

“September 21, give or take a few days.”

There were tears in his eyes, too, when he said, “Aw, sweetie.” Noah pressed a palm to her tummy. “A baby? Really?”

“Really.”

“If it’s a boy,” he said, kissing the tip of her nose, “I want to name him Ben.”

“Okay. But why?”

“That was Brother Constantine’s first name.” He kissed her chin.

She nodded. “It’s a good, strong name. I like it.” Tilting her head, she asked, “But what if it’s a girl?”

“I dunno.” He kissed her forehead. “Any suggestions?”

“As a matter of fact, I have a few ideas.”

He kissed her cheeks. “And they are…”

“Emma, in honor of Emmaline.”

“Emma. Nice and old-fashioned and feminine. It’s settled, then.”

And without warning, he scooped her into his arms and headed for the front door. He flung it open, then deposited her on the porch.

“Noah Lucas,” she said, laughing, “what are you doing?”

“I told you once…I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my past. I don’t want to make any where you’re concerned.” He picked her up again and looked deep into her eyes. “If I wasn’t such an insensitive lout, I would have done this on our wedding night.”

He stepped over the threshold, then kissed her, full on the lips. “There.” He kicked the door shut, then carried her upstairs and laid her on their bed. “Now the only thing left to do is take you on a honeymoon.”

“Sweetie, that’s very romantic, but I’m afraid that’s going to have to wait,” she said, patting her stomach.

“Nope. It’s all arranged. We leave this weekend.”

“What? But what about the kids?”

“Emmaline and Joseph are coming to stay with them for the week.” He stretched out beside her, pulled her close.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“But how will I know what to pack?”

“Hmm,” he said, scratching his chin. “You’ve got a point.” He nuzzled her throat “How about that pretty white nightgown you wore on our wedding night?”

“Okay. What else?”

He looked longingly into her eyes. “I can’t think of anything else I’d rather see you wearing,” he replied, nibbling her lips. “It’ll be so grand.…”

She laughed. “Two hundred grand?”

“No. Just one.”

“One
what?

“Canyon.”

“The one in Arizona?”

“The very one.”

“Noah, I’ve always dreamed of seeing it.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” he promised, “to make all of your dreams come true.”

“Suddenly,” Dara said, smiling, “I feel
very
married.”

Dear Reader
,

Americans love to root for the underdog. Why? Maybe because right from the beginning we’ve been a nation determined to beat the odds.

Some of the most courageous underdogs in our history were the brave young couples who sacrificed dreams of romantic love to submit to arranged marriages.

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