All for Hope (23 page)

“Could someone please tell me?” Meg's husband said in exasperation.

“We're having a baby,” Hope beamed.

“That tends to be the result when two people get married,” the man said with his nose in the air.

“Jeremy—” Meg hit him in the stomach with the back of her hand.

A grin finally broke through, and he chuckled. “I'm thrilled, Hope, really. I've come to think of you both as family.”

“'Bout time,” Hope said straight-faced then turned on her heel to go after her husband.

That evening Hope was sitting alone in their bedroom writing a letter to Mark when she heard Brennan come in with Michelle sleeping against his chest. She leaned back in her chair and watched him toss a blanket onto their bed, then tip-toe back to her nursery.

“How was she? Did she eat all of the carrots?” Hope asked him when he returned, turning on the baby monitor.

“She loved them. She must get that from you. I hate carrots.”

Hope wondered if he knew what he had just said or had he meant it only as a jest. She knew that at times it was easy to forget that Michelle was not their biological child. With sleep-laden eyes, she stood and went to him, allowing him to wrap her in his arms.

“Are you feeling all right?” he asked her, caressing her hair.

“Just a little tired,” she sighed. “Are you really happy about the baby, Bren?”

Taking her shoulders, he held her out in front of him to look into her eyes. “Why can't you believe that I am?”

“I just know the kind of life you have lived. Suddenly you’re married, living near your long lost biological family and on the run from the law. I don't want you to feel burdened. You might start to hate me for it, and—”

“First of all, I will never hate you. You know I love you. And that life I used to lead was hollow. Now I have that little girl in the next room who will grow up and call me Daddy. She'll need me to teach her to tie her shoe laces and pick her up when she falls down and to chase away all the boys who are just like me. That is more important than anything I ever did in my life before her.”

He placed his hand against her stomach. “I'm starting over with you, Hope. You gave me the chance to give my life some meaning. Of course I want this baby. Our baby.”

“Would you like a boy?” she asked smiling.

“A boy—” He got a faraway look as he lead her to the bed and pulled back the covers for her. “A son.”

“He'd probably grow up to be as dangerously good-looking as his father with twice the charm.”

“Twice the charm?”

“With you and your uncle to look up to, he'll definitely break all the girl's hearts.”

Brennan laughed, trying to picture in his mind what it would be like to have a son. When he looked back down, he saw that Hope was sound asleep, holding his hand close to her chest for security. Carefully he pulled his arm from her and undressed, then crawled in to hold her close.

Michelle was sitting on Uncle James's lap as Brennan pushed his wheelchair along the dirt path. Hope was shuffling along beside them, her eyes wide with excitement. Bren looked down and saw the same amazed thrill in the baby’s expression as was on his wife's. The New Durman Founders’ Day Celebration was quite a spectacle, and everyone seemed to be having a good time.

“Look!” Hope gasped, pointing to a group of men in a mock jousting contest. The men's horses took off at a gallop, and they each raised their lances to each other. A loud snap filled the air as the dark armored man's lance broke, and the crowd around them cheered.

“You should try it.” James turned his head to look at his nephew. “They take volunteers.”

“No.” Hope shook her head. “It's too dangerous.”

“Not really. They wear special padding and the lances are designed to break.”

“Why don't we go get some buttermilk and sweet cakes from that vendor over there?”

“Buttermilk?” Brennan wrinkled his nose. “You like buttermilk?”

Hope turned and smiled. “It sure sounds yummy.”

“Is this another one of those pregnant things?” he asked, following her.

“Humor me.” she called over her shoulder.

When night began to drop its veil over the fair, the sky became illuminated by a pale rose hue. Jeremy and Meg finally caught up with them after escorting their children to every ride and game on the grounds. Now the family was gathered around a table eating pork sandwiches and listening to Jeremy's son Jareth tell about his journey on a runaway horse.

“I thought I was going to die!” he said, eyes wide to enunciate his words. “I swear I saw my
entire
life flash before my eyes. That angel of death had tapped me on the shoulder and was beckoning me—”

Meg leaned over to Hope, a smile on her lips. “We're so proud,” she murmured. “By next year he may have already written his first best seller.”

Hope giggled, enjoying the enthusiasm of the child.

Just then a hand clamped down on her shoulder, and when she looked up, Mark smiled down at her.

“Oh God—” she murmured.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Brennan asked, standing. There wasn't jealousy in his voice; just concern because he knew something must be wrong.

“We need to talk,” Mark said to Hope.

“What is it? Have they found us?”

Mark shook his head. “Of course not.”

“Then speak, boy, else we may all expire from anticipation,” Brennan's uncle urged.

Mark hesitated because of the mixed company, but Hope took his hand. “It's all right, Mark. You can tell us all.”

The man took a breath. “It's your mother, Hope. She had a heart attack about a month ago. The family thought it wasn’t a major one, but since then they can’t seem to get her to fully recover.”

“Oh, God, no!” She brought her hand up to her forehead and closed her eyes. “She's going to die.”

Brennan saw Mark watching her closely before she sucked up her resolve and looked him square in the eyes. He had to be completely straightforward with her; Brennan knew she expected him to be. From what he knew, her friend had always been painfully honest with her.

“I can’t be sure, Hope. Her heart has been severely weakened. You know Cindy is friends with your Aunt Carol and so she’s been keeping close to them. They didn’t want me to come see you, but I couldn’t in good conscience keep it from you when I knew how to find you.”

Hope took a deep breath, swallowed once, then stood and took Mark's hand. “We'll leave first thing in the morning.”

“No!” Brennan grabbed her around the waist and hauled her to his side. “You can't go back and you know it.”

“I don't know any such thing, Bren. She’s my mother. I won't let her be alone if she’s dying. You of all people should know that.”

He did know. The pain and guilt he felt about not being with his mother when she died was still enough to almost bring him to his knees. Hope couldn’t go through that. Still, he couldn’t go through losing Hope. It was a lose-lose situation. But he wouldn’t take a chance with her. She was too important to him to take that risk.

“They'll find you, Hope. Don't you realize? They'll be on the lookout for you, knowing that if you are still alive that you'll go to her.”

“You don’t know that—”

“I do know. An officer called me while we were on the road. He was still digging around, looking for any little tiny clue he could get his damned hands on. At least one person was still looking for you.”

Her mouth fell open, and she shook her head. Once she got over the shock, she’d be furious with him for not telling her. It hadn’t mattered until now. Until now she was safe because she was with him. All that would change if she went back to Port La Pena.

He took her hand, squeezing it. “I refuse to allow you to go. I absolutely forbid it.”

She pursed her lips a furious frown on her face, but she didn’t argue. Mark apologized again, appearing very uncomfortable in his role as messenger. The family urged him to join their festivities, but all cheerfulness was evaporated from the celebration. After a while they all decided to return to the manor, where Uncle James extended his usual hospitality and insisted Mark should spend the evening.

Mark shouldn’t have been surprised to find Hope once again at his door, sneaking around in the dead of night to speak with him. He motioned her into his room at Arrington Manor with a wave of his hand.

“I’m not going to help you do this, Hope. Brennan is right. And you know I don’t like having to agree with him after all I know about him.”

She smiled. “Oh, Mark. He’s grown up. I wouldn’t have become Mrs. Brennan Rawley otherwise.”

Mark rubbed his hands over his face as he sat down on a chair in the corner of the extravagant bedroom. “What are you doing here?”

“I have to go. You know I have to go.”

He was shaking his head before she finished speaking. “No, your husband said no. No matter our history, I take marriage seriously, and a wife doesn’t disregard that kind of demand from her husband. You’ll be taking too much of a risk. What if they
are
waiting for you to make this sort of move?”

“It doesn't matter,” Hope said. “If I get caught, then that will just be the price I'll have to pay.” She raised her hand as he was about to speak. “And even if he let me go, Bren would try to insist on coming with me. I can’t let him do that. Michelle is his responsibility now, too. He has to stay here, just in case the worst happens.”