Missionary Daddy (17 page)

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Authors: Linda Goodnight

Tags: #American Light Romantic Fiction, #Romance: Modern, #Contemporary, #General, #Romance, #Fiction, #Fiction - Romance, #Romance - General, #Christian, #Religious - General, #Religious

BOOK: Missionary Daddy
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Chapter Seventeen

S
am stepped off the makeshift dais to murmurs of both concern and congratulations. Her knees quivered from exhaustion, her body weak with fettered emotion. She felt totally drained, but she had done it. She only prayed the Lord would use her words to touch lives, to save lives.

“Great show, Sam,” Douglas said. “The networks will love this one.”

His comment bothered her. “I hope more than the networks are affected. I didn’t come here to boost your ratings.”

For a second, he looked taken aback but just as quickly, the host gathered his wits and said smoothly, “Of course. That goes without saying. I’m all about making a difference.”

Somehow the words rang hollow, but frankly, she didn’t care. His show was the vehicle she’d needed to get the message out. The first of many. Now that she’d begun, she wouldn’t stop until the madness was conquered.

The tiny bell over the diner door jangled and Eric burst into the room. With a fierce look of determination, his gaze locked on hers and he strode toward her.

Sam’s heart jumped. As emotionally rent as she was, seeing Eric was a soothing balm. She wanted to run to him and let him hold her. Just hold her and let her rest her head against his strong shoulder.

The people standing around looked on in curiosity. But the clatter of plates mixed with the activity from the TV set had started up again. Voices rose and fell, but Sam neither saw nor heard anything but Eric.

His dark, slashing eyebrows plunged together as he zeroed in on her. She stood, waiting, yearning, blood pounding in her ears.

Something in the way he moved, the way he stared, sent a warning to her exhausted mind. Had he watched the show? Had he somehow read between the lines and learned her cruelest secret?

Please Lord. Please don’t let him know.

Eyes never leaving her face, Eric stopped in front of her, posture tense. Sam swallowed hard, her mouth going as dry as cotton.

After a few anxious beats, he took her arm. “I need to talk to you. Please.”

He gave the few onlookers a hard stare meant to warn them off. It did. “Excuse us.”

“Eric, what’s going on?”

He didn’t answer. Just stepped so close no one could possibly overhear. “You can’t have a baby, can you?”

Pain seared through her like a hot knife. She jerked back. “I can’t believe you asked me that.”

“Tell me.” Jaw like granite, he insisted, “Tell me the truth.”

“It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything.”

“It does matter. It matters more than anything in the world.” He stabbed a finger at his chest. “You’re killing me, Sam. I have to know the truth.”

At the harshly whispered words, Sam squeezed her eyes closed. “I never meant to. I wanted to protect you. I didn’t want to give you false hope.”

His sorrowful brown eyes pierced her very soul. “If you can say you don’t love me, I’ll walk away and never bother you again. I won’t like it, and I’ll die a little, but I’ll walk.” He took her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him. “Tell the truth, Sam. Do you love me?”

The exquisite contrast of tenderness and calloused fingers melted her. This strong, masculine man was laying his heart on the line. He was taking a chance on her. Couldn’t she take a chance on him, too?

“You know I do.”

Hope flared. “Say it again.”

“Don’t be cruel, Eric. You know love isn’t enough.”

“You’re wrong. The Bible says love is everything. If you love me the way I love you, it’s all that matters.”

“But it isn’t. You want a family. It’s your greatest dream.” She fought the tears and lost. They spilled over.

Eric’s thumbs caught them. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. Please don’t cry. We can have a family.”

She shook her head, pulling away from his seductive touch. When he was this close and so incredibly sweet, her resistance disappeared like smoke on wind.

“Yes, we can. We already do.” He pushed an envelope at her. “Amani and Matunde are coming home. By Christmas.”

She glanced down at the envelope and then back up at him, incredulous. “Seriously?”

Eric allowed a smile. “Yes. I don’t know how or why, except God, but the South African government has granted me special status to adopt them.”

“Oh, Eric, that’s wonderful news!” She threw her arms around his neck in a celebratory hug. And then she caught herself and stepped away again. “But that doesn’t change things for us. I’m glad about the boys. You’ll never know how glad, but you want more, Eric, and I won’t stand in your way.”

“I want a houseful of kids, Sam. I don’t care whether they’re adopted or biological. If God gives them to us, they will be ours. A child born in the heart is no different than a child born of the womb. God calls it the spirit of adoption. Don’t you see, sweetheart? The world is full of children who need an incredible mother like you. God adopted us to be his children because he loved us. We can do the same.”

Myriad emotions shifted through Sam. Confusion, sorrow, fear and finally a small flickering flame of hope. “You don’t care? Are you sure you wouldn’t hate me in a few years because I can’t give you a baby?”

“I’ve always dreamed of a big family. But for the last year my dreams have been about you. You, as the mother to Matunde and Amani, and to all our other children, regardless of where they come from. You, Sam. By my side as my partner and love. No one else will ever do. I love you, Sam Harcourt. Only you.”

Sam’s resistance crumbled. She took one step toward him, reaching out. With a tender smile, Eric took her hand in his and fell to one knee.

“Maybe I need to do this right,” he said, and his beloved eyes begged her to agree. “Marry me, Sam.”

“Oh, Eric,” she whispered. “I love you so much.”

“Is that a yes?”

She nodded, afraid to trust her voice any longer. Tears ran down her cheeks, though now they were tears of relief and joy.

Eric slowly rose to his feet, holding tightly to her hand. Sam’s heart beat a happy response. When he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, the sweet seal of promise was like coming home.

Sam forgot where she was, forgot everything but the pure delight in knowing Eric loved her enough. For the first time in her life, she was enough.

So when a disembodied voice yelled, “Cut,” followed by applause, she felt disoriented.

Eric lifted his head, keeping her snugged close to him, as they looked around. He wore the same dazed look she was certain reflected on her face.

“I think we’ve drawn a crowd,” Eric said.

Sure enough, the entire diner looked on, smiles wide. A cameraman stood by, camera pointed in their direction.

“Did you get all that on tape?” Sam asked, fearful of what they’d heard.

“Only the proposal. The TV audience will love it.”

“What if we don’t want to share?”

“Too late. We were live.”

“Live?”

The cameraman nodded. “Beautiful stuff. I’ll make you a copy.”

Eric and Sam stared at him and then at each other. After a stunned moment, they both laughed and went right back to kissing.

ISBN: 978-1-4268-0466-3

MISSIONARY DADDY

Copyright © 2007 by Harlequin Books S.A.

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, Steeple Hill Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

This edition published by arrangement with Steeple Hill Books.

® and TM are trademarks of Steeple Hill Books, used under license. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

www.SteepleHill.com

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