Crossed Hearts (Matchmaker Trilogy) (21 page)

He was silent for a minute. “I haven’t thought that far.”

“Maybe you should.”

He eyed her levelly. “Before I mention marriage again?”

“That’s right.”

“Are you issuing an ultimatum, Leah?”

She turned her head aside in disgust. “An ultimatum? Me? I’ve used the word dozens of times in puzzles, but I wouldn’t know how to apply it in real life if I had to.” Removing her glasses, she rubbed the bridge of her nose. “No ultimatum,” she murmured. “Just something to think about, I guess.”

When she didn’t raise her head, Garrick did it for her. The tears that had gathered in her eyes wrenched his insides, but he said what he had to say. “I love you, Leah. That won’t change, whether you’re here or in Concord. But I can’t go with you. Not now. Not yet. There are still too many things I have to work out in my mind. I want to marry you, and that won’t change, either, but maybe it would be good if we were separated for a time. If you’re in Concord, under Walsh’s eye, I’ll know you’re well cared for. While you’re there, you’ll be able to think about whether I
am
the kind of man you want. Except for two days, we’ve been together constantly for nearly five months. If it were fifty months or years, I’d still feel the same about you. But you have to accept me for what I am. Baby or no baby, you have a right to happiness. If my shortcomings are going to prevent that down the road, then … maybe you should do some rethinking.”

Leah didn’t know what to say, which was just as well, because her throat was so clogged she wouldn’t have been able to utter a word. There were things she wanted to say, but she’d already said them, and they hadn’t done much toward changing Garrick’s mind. She’d never been one to nag or harp, and she refused to resort to that now. So she simply closed her eyes and let herself be enfolded in his arms, where she etched everything she loved about him into memory for the lonely period ahead.

S
HE LEFT THE NEXT DAY
while Garrick was out on the mountain. It didn’t take her long to pack, since she had a limited supply of maternity clothes. The things she wanted most were her resource books, her music and her loom, and these she carried to the car in separate trips. She worked as quickly as she could, pausing at the end to leave a short note.

“Dear Garrick,” she wrote, “We all have our moments of cowardice, and I guess this is mine. I’m on my way to Concord. I’ll call you tonight to let you know where I’ll be staying. Please don’t be angry. It’s not that I’m choosing the baby over you, but that I want you both. You’ve said that you’ll love me no matter where I am, and I’m counting on that, because I feel the same. But I want a chance to love a child of ours, and I want you to have that chance, too. That’s why I have to go.” She signed it simply, “Leah.”

T
HOUGH SHE DIDN’T HAVE
an appointment set up for that particular day, Gregory Walsh saw her shortly after she arrived.

“Aren’t you feeling well?” he asked as soon as she was seated.

She forced a small smile. “I’m feeling fine, but I … need a little help. I’ve just driven in. All my things are still in the car. I’m … afraid I haven’t planned for this very well. It seems—” she grimaced “—that I don’t have a place to stay. You’re familiar with the area around the hospital. I was hoping you could suggest an apartment or a duplex, something furnished that I could rent.”

Walsh was quiet for several minutes, his kindly eyes gentle, putting her at ease as they had from the start. “You’re alone,” he said at last, softly and without condemnation.

Her gaze fell to her twisting thumbs. “Yes.”

“Where’s Garrick?”

“Back at the cabin.”

“Is there a problem?”

“Not really. He just didn’t feel that he could … be here for such a long stretch.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“Okay.”

“Really?”

“I guess.”

Again the doctor was silent, this time steepling his fingers beneath his chin and pursing his lips. His eyes remained on her bowed head. When he spoke at last, his voice was exquisitely gentle. “People often assume that my job is purely physical, examining one pregnant lady after another, prescribing vitamins, delivering babies. There’s much more to it than that, Leah. Pregnancy is a time of change, and it brings with it a wide range of emotional issues. It’s my job—and wish—to deal with some of those issues. From a medical standpoint, a more relaxed mother-to-be is a healthier one, and her baby is healthier.” He lowered his hands. “Given your medical history, you have more than your share of worries. Having you close by the hospital gives me a medical edge, but I was also hoping that it would serve to ease your fears.”

She raised her head. “It will. That’s why I’m here.”

“But you’ve always been with Garrick before. It’d take a blind man not to see how close you two are. It’d take an insensitive one not to guess that it bothers you he’s not with you now. I’d like to think I’m neither blind nor insensitive. I’d also like to think that you feel comfortable enough with me to tell me, honestly, what you’re feeling.”

“I do,” she said softly. She didn’t know how one could
not
feel comfortable with a man like Gregory Walsh. In his early fifties, he was pleasant to look at and talk with. He seemed to have a sensor fine-tuned to his patients’ needs; he knew when to speak and when to listen. She’d never once sensed any condescension on his part, quite a feat given his position.

“Then tell me what you really feel about Garrick’s staying behind at the cabin.”

She thought for a minute, and when she spoke, her voice was unsteady. “I feel … lots of things.”

“Tell me one.”

“Sadness. I miss him. It’s only been a few hours, but I miss him. Not only that, but I picture him alone back at the cabin and I hurt for him. I know it’s stupid. It was his choice to stay there, and besides, he’s a big boy. He lived there alone for a long time before I arrived. He’s more than capable of taking care of himself. Still, I … it bothers me.”

“Because you love him.”

“Yes.”

He nodded in encouragement. “What else are you feeling?”

She grew pensive and frowned. “Dismay. I’ve lived alone, too. I’ve taken care of myself. Yet here I am, all but crying on your doorstep, not knowing where I’m going to spend the night. I feel … handicapped.”

“You’re pregnant. That has to make any woman feel a little more vulnerable than usual.”

“That’s it. Vulnerable. I do feel that.”

“What else?”

She lifted one shoulder and tipped her head to the side, her eyes dropping back to her hands. “Anger. Resentment. Garrick has his reasons for doing what he is, and I’m trying to understand them, but right about now it’s hard.”

“Because you’re feeling alone?”

“Yes.”

“And a little betrayed?”

“Maybe. But I don’t have a right to feel that. Garrick never said he’d come. In all the time I’ve know him, he’s never promised anything he hasn’t delivered.”

“You can still feel betrayed, Leah. It’s normal.”

“He was the one who wanted to get married.”

“Has he changed his mind?”

“No. But even if we were married, I doubt he’d be here. He has a certain … hang-up. I can’t explain it.”

“You can, but you won’t, because that would be betraying him,” Walsh suggested with an insight that drew her grateful gaze to his. “I respect you for that, Leah. And anyway, I don’t pretend to be a psychiatrist. All I want to do is help you out where I can. Will you be in touch with Garrick while you’re here?”

“I told him I’d call tonight. He’ll worry otherwise.”

“Will he be down to visit?”

“I don’t know. He said he’d be here when the baby’s due.”

“Well, then, that’s something to look forward to. The anger, the resentment, the sense of betrayal—those are things you and Garrick will have to work out. All I can say is that you shouldn’t deny them or feel guilty for feeling them.” He held up a hand. “I’m not criticizing Garrick, mind you. I haven’t heard his side of the story, and I wouldn’t deign to imagine what’s going on in his mind.”

“He probably feels betrayed himself, because I chose to come here instead of staying with him. I do feel guilty about that, but I had no choice!”

“You did what you felt you had to do. That’s your justification, Leah. It doesn’t mean that you have to like the situation. But if you were to drive back to him right now, you’d probably show up on my doorstep again tomorrow. In your heart, you feel that what you’re doing is best for the baby. Am I right?”

She answered in a whisper. “Yes.”

“So. I want you to keep telling yourself that.” He grinned unexpectedly. “As for feeling alone and having nowhere to stay, I think I have a perfect solution. My place.”

“Dr. Walsh!”

He laughed. “I love it when gorgeous young women take me the wrong way. Let me explain. My wife and I moved up here when the last of our boys—we have four—graduated from college. They were all out doing their own thing, and we felt it was time we did ours. We liked New York, but progressively it was getting more difficult for Susan—that’s my wife—to handle. She has crippling arthritis and is confined to a wheelchair.”

Leah gasped. “I’m sorry.”

“So am I. But, God bless her, she’s a good sport about it. She never complained in New York, but I knew that she’d love to be in a place where she could go in and out more freely. When the offer came from this hospital, I grabbed it. We bought a house about ten minutes from here.” He chuckled. “In New York that would still be city. Here it’s a quiet, tree-shaded acre. One of the things we loved about the house was that there was an apartment in what used to be a garage. Separate from the house. Set kind of back in the trees. We thought it would be ideal for when the boys came to visit. And they do come, but never for more than a night here or there, and then they usually sleep on the living room couch.” He sat forward. “So, the apartment’s yours if you want it. You’d be close to the hospital but away from the traffic. And Susan would love the company.”

Leah was dumbfounded. “I couldn’t impose—”

“You wouldn’t be imposing. You’d be in your own self-contained unit, and I’d know you were comfortable.”

“Is it wise for a doctor to be doing this for a patient?”

“Wise? Let me tell you, Leah. There’s another reason I left New York, and that was because I was tired of the internal politics at a large city hospital. Here I do what I want. I decide what’s wise. And yes, I think my offer is wise, just as I think you’d be wise to take me up on it.”

“I’d want to pay rent,” she said, then winced. “The last time I said that, I got to where I was going and found it demolished.”

“This place isn’t demolished, and you can pay rent if it will make you feel better.”

“It will,” she said, smiling. “Thank you, Dr. Walsh.”

“Thank
you
. You’ve just made my day.” At her questioning look, he explained. “When I can make a patient smile, particularly one who walked in here looking as sober as you did, I know I’ve done something right.”

“You have.” Her smile grew even wider. “Oh, you have.”

9

T
HE APARTMENT WAS
as perfect as Gregory Walsh had said it would be. With walls dividing the space into living room, bedroom and kitchenette, it seemed smaller than the cabin, but it was cozy. The furnishings were of rattan, and where appropriate, there were cushions in pale blue and white, with draperies to match, giving a cheerful, yet soothing effect. Leah had free access to the yard, which was lush in the wild sort of way that reminded her of the woods by the cabin and made her feel more at home.

Susan Walsh was an inspiration. “Good sport” was a mild expression to describe her attitude toward life; her disposition was so sunny that Leah couldn’t help but smile whenever they were together, and that was often.

But there were lonely times, times when Leah lay in bed at night feeling empty despite the growing life in her belly. Or times when she sat in the backyard, trying to work and being unable to concentrate because her mind was on Garrick. He called every few days, but the conversation was stilted, and more often than not she’d hang up the phone feeling worse than ever.

The desolation she felt stunned her. She’d never minded when, during each of her previous pregnancies, Richard had gone off on business trips. She tried to tell herself that her separation from Garrick was a sort of business trip, but it didn’t help. Garrick wasn’t Richard. Garrick had found a place in her heart and life that Richard had never glimpsed. She missed Garrick with a passion that six months before she wouldn’t have believed possible.

Physically, she did well. She saw Gregory at the hospital for biweekly appointments. His examinations grew more thorough and were often accompanied by one test or another. She didn’t mind them, for the results were reassuring, as was the fact that the hospital was close should she feel any pang or pressure that hinted at something amiss. She didn’t feel anything like that, only the sporadic movements of the baby, movements that became stronger and more frequent as one week merged into the next.

She wanted Garrick to feel those sweet little kicks and nudges. She wanted him to hear the baby’s heartbeat, as she had. But she knew she couldn’t have it all. In her way, she had made a choice. The problem was learning to live with it.

Then, shortly before dawn one morning, after she’d been in Concord for nearly a month, she awoke to an eerie sensation. Without opening her eyes, she pressed a hand to her stomach. Her pulse had automatically begun to race, but she couldn’t feel anything wrong. No aches or pains. No premature contractions. She was barely breathing, waiting to identify what it was that had awoken her, when light fingers touched her face.

Eyes flying wide, she bolted back and screamed.

“Shhhhh.” Gentle hands clasped her shoulders. “It’s just me.”

All Leah could make out was a blurred form in the pale predawn light. “Garrick?” she whispered as she clutched frantically at the wrists by her shoulders. He felt strong like Garrick. He smelled good like Garrick.

“I’m sorry I frightened you,” said the gravelly voice that was very definitely Garrick’s.