The One Worth Waiting For (30 page)

“I’m sure it’s beautiful,” she said thickly.

He looked at her strangely. “Are you going to cry? I didn’t mean for that, Suzanne.”

She shook her head furiously, rubbing at her eyes. “I gave the dolls away,” she whispered, “to the church.”

He looked startled, then suddenly paled. “Your dolls, Suzanne?”

She shrugged miserably, her hazel gaze asking forgiveness for her lack of faith. “It had been so long, and you hadn’t called. I wasn’t sure…I just didn’t know what to think anymore.”

He reached out and slowly stroked her cheek. “I should have called,” he said. “You are so strong and I’ve hurt you so much. Forgive me, Suzanne. Forgive me.” And then, without warning, her eyes widening in shock, he fell to his knees before her. “I don’t want there to be any more doubt, Suzanne,” he said intensely. Squaring his shoulders, he swallowed, took her hand in his and then said in a voice loud and clear enough to slice through the airport chaos, “Will you marry me, Suzanne Montgomery? Will you be my wife forever?”

People stopped and stared, then a few encouraging claps broke out.

Suzanne looked down at his intent, blazing eyes, his serious, somber face. And she saw him in rain and she saw him in fire, but mostly she saw him waking up in her bed, morning after morning after morning.

She saw her future and the love she would finally be able to call her own.

“Yes,” she whispered, and the scattered clapping exploded into serious applause. All around them, passing strangers stopped and smiled and looked on with goodwill.

Suzanne leaned down and kissed him, his strong arms around her waist, and it was right.

Epilogue

T
hey all sat in the backyard, the picnic table overflowing with Guinesses. Mitch and Jessica each held one of the twins, while Liz Guiness Keaton’s stepson, Andy Keaton, pushed his baby sister with rapt attention on the toddler’s swing. Cagney lounged against the table, one arm around Marina, who was talking to Jessica about teaching. Suzanne would have taken part, but she was showing off her engagement ring to Liz. Garret looked on, still maintaining an indulgent smile despite all the ribbing he’d received from both Mitch and Cagney on finally settling down.

“So when is Jake gonna be here?” Garret asked in hopes of changing the topic.

“I’m sure he’ll be in any time now,” Mitch said lazily. William had a solid grip on his finger, and Mitch admired the baby’s strength with a father’s enthusiasm.

“Does he have himself a woman yet?” Cagney piped up.

“Nah,” Garret answered. “Jake’s too smart for that.” Suzanne gave him an arched brow, and he caught her in a quick kiss.

Mitch rolled his eyes and shook his head. “When are you guys getting married, again?”

“December 15,” Suzanne said, giving her simple ring another admiring glance. “It’s going to be a Christmas wedding. Besides, we wanted to get all the good presents before everyone spends all their money on Cagney and Marina’s wedding.”

Cagney smiled, waving a mocking finger at his older brother. “Pretty sneaky, you two, getting engaged after me, but married before.” Cagney and Marina had finally set a date in May for a garden wedding.

“I’m older,” Garret said, “therefore I should get married earlier. Besides, I like presents”

He grinned roguishly, and all the women exchanged glances at the quintessential Guiness expression.

“Have you talked to Jake about your furniture shop yet?” Mitch asked seriously.

“We talked about it last week. He likes the idea. I’m just not sure I want him to be the one financing the operation. Dad and I have enough plans of our own.”

Mitch nodded, understanding. Jake handled his wealth politely, not making it an issue, but making it available when necessary. Of course, none of them had ever approached him for money, either, and Mitch could understand Garret’s need for a certain degree of independence now that he was putting together his furniture shop. Their father couldn’t be happier that
someone
was finally taking up the family craft.

“So what are we going to do for Mom and Dad’s forty-fifth anniversary?” Mitch said, returning their attention to the original matter at hand. “They’re due back home in less than an hour, so we’d better make some decisions.”

“The trip to Las Vegas,” Liz said immediately. “They fell in love there and have never visited it since. I think they’d love a sort of trip down memory lane. Can you imagine, meeting and getting married in just four days, especially back then?”

Jessica looked up from Baby Jamie to give Mitch a slow smile. “So that’s where you get it from.”

Mitch colored slightly, earning himself a great deal of teasing from his assembled siblings. Liz’s husband, Richard Keaton, coughed discreetly, earning everyone’s glances and bailing Mitch out.

“Liz and I can provide the hotel suite for a week,” Richard said quietly, his hand on his wife’s shoulder. She looked up at him and smiled, then, in unison, both of their gazes turned to their children. Andy was still pushing baby Melinda on the swing. The beautiful girl’s dark coloring was a perfect foil for Andy’s golden looks, and the boy was clearly enraptured with the new addition to the household. Melinda had only to point to something, and he’d trot off and get it. He’d even taken up children’s stories so he could read to her.

“Marina and I will supply the limo,” Cagney said.

“Suzanne and I will cover the romantic dinner.”

“Which leaves Jessica and me supplying tickets to a few shows,” Mitch said. “Jake will cover the airplane.”

“Speaking of which…” Garret said.

Mitch looked at his watch, then shrugged. “He’s usually on time. I don’t know, maybe he does have a woman. Remember the actress from last year?”

They all obediently suppressed smiles. “She was a little much,” Cagney finally said as diplomatically as possible.

Garret arched a wicked eyebrow. “A little?”

“At least she was better than the poet,” Mitch said.

Garret couldn’t keep from laughing this time. “He does like ’em wild.”

Cagney shook his head. “Face it,” he said with a shrug. “Marina and I are the last wedding Mom and Dad will get.”

“Yeah,” Garret agreed, “but as long as Jake continues to supply the champagne, who’s complaining?”

“Where’s he flying in from?” Liz asked, a smile still tickling her lips as she recalled the poet. The woman had been breathtakingly beautiful—all of Jake’s women were—but when their mother had served barbecued ribs, the woman had actually climbed onto the middle of the table and recited an impromptu poem “in memory of” the dead animal.

“He was in Poland,” Mitch said with a shrug. “He’s having some labor problems at his new plant, I gather. But I thought he was going to be back in Virginia a few days ago. Then again, who knows with Jake?”

“Uncle Jake is coming?” Andy piped up. For once, he pulled his attention from his baby sister and looked at them all with rapidly blinking eyes behind his thick glasses. Liz smiled at him.

“Andy worships Jake,” she said dryly, and even Richard had a hint of a smile.

“Uncle Jake went to Harvard,” Andy said.

“Yes, dear, we know.” Andy looked at Liz with such longing eyes she gave in with a smile. “All right, Andy, tell us once more about Uncle Jake and the big, bad bully.”

Andy nodded fervently, his blue eyes lighting up with enthusiasm for his favorite story. “In eighth grade,” he began with hushed tones, “the big, bad bully, Ted Michaels, stole the kids’ lunches, eating them all.” Andy’s eyes grew round. “He was
so
big, and
so
bad, no one could stop him. Then Uncle Jake decided that he’d had enough.” Andy leaned forward, and despite the fact they’d all heard the story a dozen times before, everyone around the table leaned forward, as well. “Uncle Jake got all the kids together and said if they paid him one dollar each and gave him their lunches, he’d make sure they were never bothered again, or their money back. The whole eighth grade agreed.

“So the next day, Uncle Jake came to school early and gathered up all the lunches. Then he filled all the food with diuretics. At lunchtime, he gave the food to the big, bad bully, Ted.”

Andy leaned back with a satisfied smile. “And the big, bad bully, Ted Michaels, spent three whole days in the bathroom, because brains can beat brawn anytime.” He looked at his father for confirmation, and Richard nodded agreement.

“And Jake,” Garret finished for him dryly, “made fifteen bucks profit, because brains can make big bucks, as well.”

The phone cut through the silence and Garret whistled in appreciation.

“Speak of the devil, I bet.”

Cagney got up and walked into his parents’ new house to answer the phone.

“Jake,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear, “we figured it was you.”

“Get me Mitch,” his older brother growled: Cagney frowned. Garret growled and stormed, but Jake simply grinned and got even.

“Everything all right?” he asked sharply.

“Sorry, Cage, but I only have thirty seconds left. Get me Mitch.”

Cagney’s frown grew a little deeper, and when he called out for Mitch, his voice rang with genuine concern. Mitch looked at the group with startled eyes, then slowly got up from the picnic table and walked into the house.

“Hey, Jake. What’s up?”

“I’m in jail,” Jake practically snarled at the other end of the line. “
Your
Bureau people have me under arrest. For God’s sake, Mitch, get over here and talk some sense into these people.”

“Okay, okay,” Mitch said immediately, his brow furrowing in confusion. “You in D.C.?” At Jake’s grunted confirmation, Mitch glanced at his watch. “I think there’s a four o’clock flight out of Winston-Salem. Give me three hours and I’ll be there. Who’s in charge?”

Jake mumbled something explicit and uncomplimentary.

“Now, Jake, I thought they taught you Harvard boys bigger words than that.”

“Agent Regina O’Doul,” Jake grated out.

Mitch repeated the name. He hadn’t heard of her, but the witness protection program was its own division anyway.

“Jake,” he finally said, “I’m sure it’s all a mix-up, but to be safe, you’d better call your lawyer.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Abruptly, Jake sighed. “Mitch, have I told you yet today how much I hate bureaucrats?”

Mitch smiled, relieved to hear his brother sound a little more like himself. “See you soon, Jake.” Mitch walked out to find eight pairs of eyes fixed upon him. He finally shrugged. “Jake seems to be having a few problems with the FBI.” They all looked startled, and Mitch couldn’t blame them.

“Want me to come with you?” Garret asked immediately.

Mitch shook his head, giving Jessica an apologetic look. “I’m sure I can take care of things in a day or so.” He rested a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Jake and I’ll be back before you know it.”

Jessica nodded at him, trying to keep the concern out of her eyes. After a moment, Mitch disappeared back into the house, and a minute later, the conversation resumed.

Suzanne looked at Garret with troubled eyes, though. “You sure he’ll be all right?”

Garret grinned at her, his hand stroking her cheek the way it was prone to do. “Jake’s like a cat,” he told her. “He always lands on his feet.” He pulled her onto his lap, kissing her again for everyone to see.

“So, sweetheart,” he whispered in her ear, turning his attention back to more pressing matters, “where should we honeymoon?”

She smiled and rested her head briefly on his chest. “Someplace cold,” she told him. Then whispered in his ear, “I have plans.”

Garret grinned, that wonderful, wicked grin, but his brothers and sister were too busy with their own families to notice. It was just as well, because he had plans of his own.

He held Suzanne closer and slowly began to outline them in her ear while she turned a nice shade of red.

Dotti and Henry Guiness were going to have more grandchildren before they knew it.

* * * * *

eISBN 978-14592-7938-4

THE ONE WORTH WAITING FOR

Copyright © 1996 by Lisa Baumgartner

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 300 East 42nd Street, New York, NY 10017 U.S.A.

All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

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