All Is Bright (9 page)
Delilah smiled back in spite of her confusion. The woman obviously had her mixed up with someone else. She had no family left.
Tom and another man entered right behind the woman. The guy was about forty with dark hair trimmed close to his head in a military cut. He had the erect bearing of a Marine, and something about him caught her attention. He looked like someone she knew, but she couldn't quite place who.
He took a step forward. “Delilah.”
His intent gaze disconcerted her, and she rose with her hands clutched together. “Do I know you?” Something about him reminded her of her father, but she couldn't put her finger on it.
Tom shoved his hands in his pockets. “Delilah, this is Adam.”
Adam who? Delilah frowned and stared harder at the man.
Then Tom's words took root.
Her
Adam? “A-Adam? You're not my brother.”
“You look just like Mom.” His voice was hoarse, and he took another step closer. “I thought you were dead, Delilah. They told me you died too.”
She took it all in, the curve of his jaw, the cleft in his chin that was like Dad's, the dimple in the left cheek. “Adam.” She barely got the word out.
He opened his arms and she went into them. The cologne, Tommy Hilfiger, was the same one he'd worn when he left home. Twenty years had passed, but they all vanished in a moment.
She pressed her face against his shirt and let the tears fall. “Adam, oh Adam.”
His hug was fierce, and she could feel the tremble in his arm. A sob escaped him, and she heard him gulp back any more sounds. Lifting her head, she saw him swallow hard, then send an appealing glance toward the woman.
Delilah turned her attention to her new sister-in-law. And nieces. The girls were her nieces. She saw the resemblance now. They looked like miniature versions of Delilah herself when she was that small.
She had family, nieces, a new sister.
And Adam.
She buried her face back in his chest.
“T-This is my wife, Hannah. And our girls, Clara and Eloise.”
Delilah lifted her head again but she couldn't speak, couldn't force a single syllable past her tight throat. Tears blurred her
vision, and she looked at Tom, who was beaming brighter than any Christmas light.
“You did this?” she managed to choke out.
He shrugged. “Merry Christmas.”
She wanted to sweep them all into a hug and hear every single thing that had gone on in her brother's life. Leaving the shelter of his arms, she knelt to talk to her new nieces. Family. What a precious word. Tom had changed her life in so many ways. She glanced back at him and saw his tender gaze filled with so much promise. She was ready to take the next step.
Three Years Later
T
HE COTTAGE
T
OM HAD BOUGHT
D
ELILAH WAS JUST DOWN
the road from Tidewater Inn, so she'd been able to continue her job. From the kitchen window at the inn, she could see the slashes of color from her rose garden while she prepared meals for the guests. With the window open on this late-September day, she could smell the scent of the sea and hear the waves rolling to shore.
She touched the swell of her belly and smiled. She wouldn't be able to work much longer. The baby was due anytime, and Libby only let her cook dinner now. The new girl they'd hired was working out well, and knowing that relieved a lot of Delilah's stress.
Her back ached a bit and she rubbed it.
“You doing okay, honey?” Tom touched her on the shoulder.
She turned and smiled at him. “I didn't hear you come in.
I'm fine, just a little backache. Dinner is in the oven and I'm ready to go home.”
Home.
Who would have thought she would have a real home with a loving husband and a baby on the way? God was so good. He'd been good before he gave her such an awesome gift as Tom, but every day she was thankful for his gifts.
A sudden cramp hit her in the back, harder this time, and she nearly cried out as her legs gave out under her.
“Delilah?”
Before she could reassure him, Tom had swept her up in his arms and was carrying her out of the kitchen.
“It's nothing, Tom. Just a cramp.” But as he reached the parlor, she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. “I-I might be wrong. I think maybe I'm in labor.”
Panic flared in his brown eyes, and he laid her gently on the sofa. Thankfully, the parlor was empty of guests, who were all out enjoying the lovely fall day. “I think you'd better get me home before everyone comes back.”
Tom shook his head. “I don't think there's time. Libby!”
Libby's footsteps sounded on the hardwood floors, and she burst into the room. “Is it the baby?”
“I think so. Would you call Amy? Where should I put Delilah? She can't deliver in here.”
“A guest suite just down the hall is empty. You won't have to get her upstairs.” Libby pulled out her cell phone and continued to direct Tom.
Delilah wanted to tell them first babies always gave plenty of warning, then another sharp cramp hit her and she couldn't
bite back a tiny whimper. Come to think of it, her back had been bothering her since this morning.
Tom scooped her up again and rushed down the hall after Libby. Libby unlocked the door to the Tidewater Suite, their most expensive accommodations. Its seafoam-blue walls and calming white linens reached out to embrace her.
She shook her head and tried to protest. “I don't want to mess up anything in here.”
“Amy left supplies and instructions. I've got this covered.” Libby stripped off the quilt and blankets, then pulled back the sheets. “Hang on.” She returned a few moments later with water-proof pads she spread onto the sheets. “Get her into bed, Tom. I've got a delivery nightgown we can get her into if you start getting her undressed.”
“I can take care of myself. Tom, put me down.” Much to her surprise, he grinned and eased her to her feet. Before another cramp could hit, she yanked off her shirt and sat on the edge of the bed to try to get out of her yoga pants, the most comfortable attire for this late in her pregnancy.
Libby returned with a light-blue cotton nightgown. “Amy is on her way. Fifteen minutes. This is a short one so it will be easy to maneuver during delivery, and you'll be able to nurse in it.”
In a jiffy Tom and Libby had her clothed with the nightgown and resting in bed. Just in time, too, because another sharp cramp gripped her back. Tears came to her eyes, and she bit back another groan. She refused to be a screamer.
Tom sat beside her on the bed and rubbed her lower back. “Remember how to breathe, honey.”
Of course. This was labor, not some random back pain. She nodded. She was ready for this.
She and Tom hadn't wanted to know what gender their baby was, so this little one would be a complete surprise. Her pulse raced. She would soon hold her baby in her arms. Tom's baby. Our baby.
By the time Amy arrived, the pains had changed and were encasing Delilah's entire midsection. Amy had been a nurse midwife for many years and had delivered little Noah as well as many of the island babies in the past two years. Her brisk, competent manner put Delilah at ease, and she did everything she was told to do.
Two hours later, a tiny red-faced bundle slid into Tom's arms. Tears tracked down his face as he cradled their tiny child in his arms. “Delilah, it's a girl. She's beautiful, just like her mama.” He carried her to the head of the bed to place her in Delilah's arms.
A thatch of dark hair topped the red and wrinkled face. The baby screwed up her face and squawked with gusto. Delilah touched her petal-soft skin. “What should we call her, Tom?”
They'd waited to pick out a name until they'd met their little one. Delilah knew the name she wanted, but Tom had waited a long time for this moment, and it was his fortieth birthday.
Tom cradled her tiny head in his big hand and smiled. “Hello, Molly.”
“ âStar of the sea.' Perfect.” And she was. Delilah had so wanted to name her daughter after her mother, and Tom had granted her wish.
So was life, in all its messiness and trials. Life was perfect right now, but Delilah knew there would always be challenges. But challenges brought gifts, too, and the pain was always worth it.
Tom leaned over and his breath mingled with hers as he kissed her. She closed her eyes and soaked in this moment of pure joy.
1. Why do we tend to keep things bottled up about our past? Is there something that's been hard for you to talk about?
2. What does it take for you to tell people about your past hurts?
3. Delilah loved mothering people. Why do you think she did?
4. Have you ever gotten into a rut like Tom and Delilah? What did it take for you to break free and do something different?
5. Have you ever felt the need to prove yourself like Delilah? Why?
