Diamond Mine (28 page)
Authors: Felicia Rogers
****
“What for?”
“For forgetting! Oh, this is horrible. Rory thinks I proposed and then forgot all about it. Iâ”
“Wasn't yourself?”
She slapped her hands together. “Exactly. What am I to do?”
“Just tell him the truth. He'll understand.”
Rory moved out of sight and leaned against the wall. He fingered the object in his pocket, allowing the cool white gold to roll around in his hand.
He swallowed. He'd known she didn't remember. Part of him had been aware in the beginning that she wasn't herself. She'd acted normal but her eyes were glazed over, and she had worn a dreamy expression. But who could blame him for hoping she'd meant the words.
For eight years he'd avoided the future. Now he was done. Even if she said it was all a lie, he was done waiting.
He stepped into the opening. “Hi.”
Father Thomas scooted off the bed and slid from the room, giving Rory a reassuring pat as he passed.
Rory faced Hannah. “Your color looks better.”
“Yes.”
“Do you feel better?”
“Yes.”
He cleared his throat and took a seat. He rubbed his thighs. “So, Mike seems ready to get back home.”
“Of course, he is. Tonya's due to deliver any day now.”
“What's she having?”
“Who knows? She likes surprises.”
“So are you going back with him?” he asked.
“He wants me to.”
Rory lifted his head and gazed at her. “And what do you want?”
He held his breath. What would he do if she said she wanted to leave without him?
Hannah quirked her lip upward on one side, opened her palm, and smiled. “I want my ring.”
“Would you be still?” said Gabe.
“You don't think she changed her mind, do you?” asked Rory.
“Are you kidding me? She's as crazy as you are. I've never met a more alike couple.”
“What about you and Joyce?”
“What about us? Do you think for one minute, if I mentioned for our first anniversary that I wanted to jump from an airplane into the rainforest and spend a week there, that she would have gone for it? If you do, then I know you're crazy.”
Rory laughed. Hannah had turned out to be quite a thrill seeker. After their return from South Africa, she'd written a book series that topped the New York Times bestseller list. It'd taken a miracle to convince the editor, publisher, and agent that Hannah needed a
new adventure
to write her next bestseller.
“Oh, here she comes.”
Rory ran to meet her. A wide smile graced her face as she tiptoed to kiss his cheek.
“Hey, handsome.”
He pulled her close and kissed her more fully. Moving apart, a red hue covered her face. Would she ever quit being embarrassed?
“So, are you ready? Gabe's got the plane ready and all our gear is aboard.”
“Yeah, about that,” she said, shifting her feet.
“Oh, no. Did you talk to Tonya?”
“Yes, butâ”
He threw his hands up in the air and stalked away. After a couple of deep breaths he came back and faced her. “I knew she'd talk you out of it. She is dead set against this. We can't go anywhere that you might get harmed.”
“Roryâ”
“Look, the doctor cleared me because of where we're dropping. There is a vehicle waiting for us, and the hut is prepared and stocked. It'll be like any other vacation.”
“True. I know you've done a fantastic job of planning, but Tonya didn't change my mind. It was the doctor.”
“The doctor?” He grabbed her arms, his pulse increased.
“Yes, he advised I wait before jumping from an airplane.”
“But why? What's wrong? I don't understand. Why were you at the doctor?”
“You know that stomach thing I had?”
He scratched his head. “Yeah. But I thought it was better.”
She turned her back to him, and when she turned around she was smiling. “Well yes and no. Anyway I went to the doctor and he said I'm⦔
“You're what?”
Her hands fell to her sides, and she jumped into his arms and yelled, “I'm pregnant!”
His arms snaked around her middle. Burying his nose in her hair, he struggled to catch his breath. “Pregnant?”
She snuggled closer. “Yes! Isn't it great? I'm around twelve weeks or so. So you see, I can't jump from an airplane right now.”
He couldn't move.
“Rory, are you okay? You just lost all your color.”
Gabe crawled from the plane. “So are we going or not?”
She saw him and ran to share the news. Gabe hugged her and patted Rory on the back before shutting down the plane.
Their gear unloaded and back in the car, they left for home. Rory struggled to speak. He was to be a father?
They parked in the garage and went inside, both falling on the couch. “Rory are you okay? You haven't said a word after you said pregnant.”
Sitting on the chair opposite her, he grimaced. Pain rocketed through his leg. What if he couldn't play with his child? What if, because of his injury, he wasn't a good father?
“Rory, please, you're worrying me. Are you okay with this? I mean, it's a little late if you aren't, but I'd like you to be happy. And just know we can take the baby on all our adventures, but it just isn't good for me toâ”
Sincerity filled him. Rory dropped in front of her and took her hands in his. “Sparkles, you've made me the happiest, fullest, wealthiest man on earth.”
Hannah giggled. “I know. And don't worry. She will love you wholly and unconditionally.”
“She?” he questioned.
Hannah grinned.
Felicia Rogers
born and raised in the southern part of the United States is a Christian wife and mother. She is just your average, ordinary woman, with a side interest-- writing.
For years, every waking moment of her life was consumed with changing diapers, wiping noses, and kissing scrapes. But now that her children have grown and she enjoys a modicum of freedom, in addition to taking care of hearth and home, she writes! She enjoys adding a flavor of realism and humor to her all too real romance stories. For what is love without a little laughter!
Chapter One
The past is like a revolving door, and if people aren't careful it'll come back and whop them in the backside. Hard.
Like Julia Richardson's just did.
“Julia, we⦠Sarah needs you. It's the baby.”
Two sentences, barely audible, as her former stepsister's husband fought to get the words out. Those two sentences had Julia behind the wheel in the dead of night, headed back to the small Southern town â and the family â she'd successfully avoided for fifteen years.
She looked in the rearview mirror and spotted an errant, titian-colored curl sticking straight up. With a stifled groan, she mashed it down. Ah, humidity, such a lovely thing. The farther south she got, the more it curled. By the time she reached her destination she expected to look like a dead ringer for a certain redheaded, singing orphan. If said orphan was a full-figured Amazon with a bad attitude.
By the time Julia drove past the quaintly painted sign, which proclaimed she was entering Covington Falls, Georgia â
Covington
for the founding family,
Falls
for the trickle of water which emptied into Lake Rice, the name of the other founding family â the sun was blazing. Surprisingly, she knew exactly where to go. Or maybe not so surprising since it didn't look like much had changed in fifteen years. It still looked like a small and dainty cousin of Savannah.
She turned down a tree-lined lane that could have doubled for a 50s television show and a moment later pulled into the driveway of Grace's house. A white, two-story Colonial number with a wrap-around porch, complete with a swing. Rounding out this picture of all-American perfection was an honest to goodness white picket fence. Julia stared at the house, wondering what in the world she was doing here. She so didn't belong in a place like this.
Before she could back out of the driveway, the front door opened, and a woman stepped out onto the porch.
Grace. Ex-stepmother #3. Mother of Sarah and the reason for the midnight run.
Julia got out of the car unsure what kind of reception to expect. Before she knew it, Grace flew down the stairs with arms outstretched.
A familiar scent of cookies and violets invaded her senses. Exactly the way an angel might smell, she imagined. When she âd been thirteen, and angry at the world, she hadn't been able to hug Grace back. Now Julia did. Then didn't want to let go.
Grace pulled back, taking Julia's face in her warm hands. “How I've missed you.”
“You have?”
She smiled. “You have no idea.”
“I've missed you, too.”
“Let me look at you,” Grace said, stepping back to get the full view. “Why, you're gorgeous. I always knew you would be, but my goodness you're stunning.”
“You look good yourself.”
And she did, Julia thought. There were a few more lines, and a lot more grey hairs, but the sparkle was still there. Only now there was a deeper contentment in those blue eyes Julia didn't remember from before.
“I can't believe how quickly you got here,” Grace said.
“Well, it's not like I had to bother getting off work. Getting fired sort of opens up your day.”
“I got your e-mail. Your boss had some kind of heart condition, and he had to sell the business?”
Julia nodded. “Right, and the new owner brought in his own marketing people.”
“The poor man. It must have been difficult for him.”
“I'm sure. The fantastic thing is I can't even be mad at him, because how can you blame the guy for wanting to live a while longer?”
Grace chuckled a little. “I'm sure you'll find something else. Maybe even sooner than you think.”
Julia spun around at the odd statement. “What do you mean?”
For a second Grace almost looked guilty, but in the next moment she clapped her hands. “Look at me, letting you stand here when you're probably dead on your feet! Let me help you get your bags inside. Are you hungry?”
“I'd rather go see Sarah.”
“Okay, but bags first, and I need to tell my husband where we're going.”
Julia took a tentative step inside the house. “I got your letter about him having a stroke. How is he doing?”
“He has his days, though he's much better. His speech is getting clearer, and he's regained some strength on his bad side. We're taking it one day at a time. Letting God handle all the big stuff.”
Julia bit her tongue. She'd just arrived, and now wasn't the time to get into the topic of her skepticism about God and faith.
Grace smiled.
“What?”
“Still have the same doubts about God I see.”
Julia looked at the floor.
Grace tilted Julia's chin back up. “You have to come to it in your own way.”
She walked away before Julia could respond. On the second floor, Grace stopped in front of the second bedroom on the right and opened the door. Julia's breath seized, and she came to an abrupt halt. It was the same one she'd occupied as a teenager. She was swamped with an instant flashback of the first time she'd stepped into this room. She'd been carting an enormous designer suitcase her mother had bought for the “trip”. Of course, Julia had known it was more like an “exile”, away from her mother and stepfather #2.
Julia had dragged the blasted thing up the stairs herself, having refused to let her father touch either her or her belongings. She'd glanced down to contemplate a spot on her thigh where a bruise would surely form, and then looked up. Into a fairy room. Fairies on the wallpaper, on a gorgeous poster, and even on the white shag throw rug.
Somehow, Julia had known the woman who'd become her father's third wife had done it. For her.
Grace turned. “Are you all right?”
Julia snapped back to the present. “Sure.”
“I can put you in another room,” Grace said. “Sarah's old room, if you like.”
“No, this is fine.” At least the fairies were gone now, replaced with light blue paint. She stepped over the threshold and put her bag down on the bed.
“For the longest time, I didn't even know if you read my letters,” Grace said.
“It was pretty hard to ignore those scented, handwritten letters.” Julia could hear the bite in her voice, but couldn't help it.
Grace winced. “It was too much. I told myself I should leave you alone. You'd been hurt enough, but I didn't want you to think we'd forgotten you. I wanted you to know what was going on in our lives. When you eventually started answering them, I hopedâ”
“I'd come back?”
Grace flushed. “It was silly of me, I know.”
