Stone, Katherine (33 page)

It actually had been. They'd all been at Juliana's Happy Valley
home. Juliana had been sewing Allison's wedding gown when Allison placed her
hand over Juliana's. Make your own wedding gown first, she'd said. Please.

"It
was
Allison who insisted we marry so soon,"
Garrett replied. "But when I said our daughter, I was referring to
Maylene. She's your
other
granddaughter, the child Juliana and I
conceived during that week twenty-eight years ago." "You and
Juliana..."

How Garrett wished he couldn't read his parents' unspoken
thoughts. How he wished he couldn't see their prejudice toward the half-Asian
daughter he'd fathered. How he wished he could be forever blind to the truth
that they didn't want her.

Garrett fought his rage, contained it. He wouldn't leave until
he'd said everything he'd come to say—because the words that remained, the most
important ones of all, were about Maylene.

He told his parents how difficult Maylene's life had been, and how
much he loved her. Garrett never mentioned how beautiful Maylene was, or that
she was the gifted architect who'd designed Hong Kong's extraordinary new
landmark. Nor did he tell them about Allison's joy—and Maylene's— that they
were sisters.

Garrett wanted his parents to accept Maylene unconditionally,
because she was their granddaughter, not because she had credentials that might
persuade them to see beyond their prejudice.

It was too much to ask, he realized as he saw their disbelief—and
denial. Still, he said all the words he'd planned, finishing with the most
significant.

"Maylene is every bit as much your granddaughter as Allison
is. Allison and Maylene are sisters, and Juliana and I are husband and wife,
and we want you to be part of our family— if you wish."

It
was
too much. Their hatred for all things Asian was as
deep as his love for Juliana and Maylene. His parents couldn't accept what he'd
told them—which meant he'd try to understand... but would also say goodbye.

It appeared that his father would say the goodbye first. Douglas
stood, and as Garrett watched him struggle to find the words with which he'd
forsake his only living son, Garrett's heart seized with pain. He was a grown
man. He had a wife, two daughters, his own family. But Garrett felt the anguish
of a child being abandoned by his parent—by his
father.

The pain was shocking, excruciating... but trivial compared to
what a thirteen-year-old girl would have felt when she discovered that the
father she'd loved had betrayed her love.

Garrett turned away. He needed be with that girl, that daughter.
He needed to tell her again how sorry he was, and to help her as she struggled
with this latest rejection. He strode swiftly across the plush carpet. The hand
that bore his shining wedding band was reaching for the door knob when his
father spoke.

"Garrett."

As he turned, Garrett steeled himself for his father's farewell.

But Douglas didn't say goodbye. Instead, he said to his only son,
"I'd like to meet my granddaughter."

Pauline stood, too, and even though Garrett's image of her was
slightly blurred, he heard her words loud and clear. "So would I."

Now it was Iris who spoke. "What about us, Garrett? Would you
be willing... would it be possible... could Maylene be our granddaughter,
too?"

The Jade Palace

December 31, 1993

She stood on the harborside esplanade, where, on that day in June,
she and Sam had been able to see what no one else could—their hotel, already
built, glorious and triumphant.

The Jade Palace glittered tonight. Its clear-glass lobby was a sea
of people who'd come to celebrate its grand opening, and perhaps some of
Kowloon's dragons had dropped by as well. But she was alone, marveling at the
lights of Hong Kong reflected off the smooth blackness of Victoria Harbour. It
was almost midnight. The winter moon was the color of champagne and the air was
fragrant and warm. She wore a gold brocade cheongsam, a Pearl Moon design, and
her hair was a crown of curls atop her head. As she stood gazing at the
jewel-bright splendor, her hands rested gracefully on her lower abdomen.

"Happy New Year, Jade."

Maylene believed she was hearing things. She'd been thinking about
him, of course, and about his baby—when and how she'd tell him. But in her
fantasy she hadn't imagined "Happy New Year, Jade," spoken so softly.
Indeed, she hadn't yet dared to dream any gentle words from Sam.

The words she heard
were
gentle, as caressing as the warm
night air, and there was more warmth as the cowboy moved beside her.

"Sam," she whispered. "You decided to come."

"I couldn't stay away." For a moment Maylene's eyes
shone more brightly than the lights of Hong Kong. But, too quickly, Sam saw
shadows. "I take it you're not too happy to see me."

"Did one of my family ask you to come?"

"No. You have a family now, don't you?"

"Yes," she said. "I have a wonderful family
now."

"And a protective one," Sam added. "All except one
had mixed emotions about telling me where to find you."

"Not Allison."

"Not Allison. In fact, your sister took me by the hand, led
me to the window and made sure you were here before turning me loose."

That's because Allison believes in fairy tales, Maylene thought.
Fairy tales, complete with happy endings.

There was something else in which Allison had unshakable
confidence—her sister. Sam
loves
you, Allison had insisted a thousand
times during the past three weeks. How could he not?

Allison's relentless refrain had almost convinced Maylene to fly
to San Antonio, where she'd appear at Sam's ranch, Stetson in hand, boots on
feet, and after greeting him with, "Happy New Year, cowboy," she'd
confess her love.

What's the
worst
that could happen? Allison had asked as
the sisters envisioned the scenario in Texas. He could break my heart, Maylene
had replied. To which Allison had countered, It's already broken.

Now Sam was here, and he'd braved her family to find her, and...

"I've missed you, Jade."

"You have?"

"I imagine it's usual to miss someone you love, but I don't
really know. I've never been in love—until now." Sam hadn't known how
Maylene would respond. He knew only that he couldn't spend the rest of his life
wondering how she felt beneath all the disguises. Nothing was disguised now.
"I love you, Maylene Kwan. I should've told you long ago. I thought you
were playing with me, but you weren't, were you? You were just terribly uncertain."

"You love me?"

"I love you. And I want to spend my life with you." He
withdrew a small cardboard box from his pocket. "Open it, Jade. I'm
exercising my gift-giver's prerogative."

The jeweler's Christmastime gift box was red, but wanting all the
luck he could get, Sam had put bright-red tissue paper inside.

The diamond was round and flawless, and it sparkled with inner
fire in its Tiffany setting. As Maylene stared at it, unable to speak, Sam
said, "It's very traditional, and if you'd prefer something else..."

"No," she answered. "We Whitakers are very
traditional."

Maylene touched the diamond, her fingers as reverent as when she'd
touched the glowing window on the night of the typhoon. The glow had been an
illusion, and this was real. But it was so hard to believe it was happening to
her.

"Does that mean you like it?" Sam asked. "And that
you'll marry me?"

"I love it." Looking up from the diamond to dark blue
eyes solemn with love, she whispered, "I love
you."

They needed all their hands free to touch each other, but there
was the matter of the small red box with its sparkling jewel. As Sam slipped it
onto her trembling finger, it seemed to Maylene that his hands trembled, too.
That
was an illusion, surely.

The ring fit perfectly. "You were pretty confident I'd say
yes, weren't you, cowboy?"

It was a soft tease, to keep herself from dissolving into tears of
joy, but he didn't smile. His eyes only became more intense.

"I wasn't confident at all," he said quietly. "I
just hoped, with all my heart, that you would. I still haven't officially heard
your answer."

"Yes, Sam,
yes!
I will marry you."

Maylene's tears spilled, and Sam kissed them away. He kept kissing
her long after the tears had stopped.

Finally, between kisses, he asked, "When, Jade? When will you
marry me?"

"Whenever you want me to. James and Allison are getting
married tomorrow."

"On your birthday. We could get married on Allison's
birthday, if you like—assuming it's sometime very soon."

"It's today, and in about ten minutes it'll be over."

Sam considered for several moments before speaking again.
"Well, let's see. Allison is getting married on the first day of the
Western new year, so we could get married a month from now, when the Chinese
New Year begins. Or.

Sam paused, hoping she'd understand what he was really saying.

She did. She was a child of two worlds—and proud of who she was.
"Or," she said, "we could get married halfway in between."

They kissed again, lingering caresses of love.

Eventually, in a voice heavy with need, Sam said, "We may have
to start thinking about where we're going to spend the night." Before she
could reply, and suddenly wanting to make more permanent plans, he asked,
"Where will we live? Where will your family be?"

"They'll be here. I'm afraid we've become of family of freedom
fighters."

"I think I have a little of that in my Texan blood. So, we'll
live in Hong Kong. Do you suppose we could convince James to let us collaborate
on a few more of his buildings?"

"I suppose we could." Maylene's expression went from
teasing to serious. "But you have those two other projects to do first,
don't you?"

"No." Sam smiled at her surprise. "They did call
me. I told them I'd let them know after the first of the year—after seeing
you."

"You could still do them. I'd go with you."

Sam had no intention of taking the woman he loved away from her
family. "I'd rather stay here. I'm looking forward to finding a beach, a
couple of horses, and teaching you how to ride." In response to her frown,
Sam assured her, "Riding isn't absolutely essential for a cowgirl, but I
think you'd enjoy it."

"Yes—but not right away."

It came to him then, as he remembered the way she'd been standing
when he arrived, her hands resting on her abdomen. He'd been struck by how
lovely she looked, how breathtaking in that unusual—yet so compelling—pose.

Now Sam realized something even more breathtaking. The protective
gesture was distinctly and gloriously maternal.

"Are we having a baby?"

"We're having a little typhoon."

"Are you all right?"

"I'm wonderful, Sam. I just whirl every so often."

"You were whirling when I met you."

"And you didn't let me fall."

"I will never let you fall."

Sam's hands trembled then. It was no illusion, merely wonder, as
he touched her abdomen. And, as Maylene's hands entwined with his, they both knew
the truth about the gesture.

It was distinctly maternal
and
distinctly paternal—the
solemn yet joyous promise of both parents to cherish forever the gift of love.