Texas Heat (35 page)

“You're sure you can handle it? Sawyer and the boys are not to know; is that right?”

“I think it would be best, don't you?”

“For now, anyway. Maggie, what about your divorce and Susan and the new baby? When will you go?”

“The end of April, beginning of May. That would give me plenty of time. There's not much I can do about the divorce. The lawyers are handling that for me. Cole is old enough to speak for himself. I'm hoping this time he's going to spend with Sawyer will open him up to life. What I do from here on in is going to have a direct bearing on his decision. I'm hoping for the best, but I'll be able to handle the worst. I'll be here for Suse when she has the baby and the christening. It'll all work out.”

“I'm sure it will. Maggie...”

“Don't say it, Mam. Let me do this my way.”

“Maggie, please, listen to me. I was going to ask you about Rand.”

“I sent him home. I thought you knew.”

“Yes, I knew he went back to England, but I didn't know you sent him back. Why? I thought you loved him. I thought he loved you.”

“Yes. Yes. He does. I do. We do. Oh, Mam.... It was for the best.”

“Who? For God's sake, Maggie, for whom is it best?”

“Everyone. Sawyer, Amelia. The boys. Suse, too.”

“What about you?”

Maggie snorted. “Since when does it matter what I want?”

“It matters to me. Fight, Maggie. If Rand is what you want, then fight for him. Don't let Sawyer or anyone else take that from you. If it's right in your heart, then it's right for you.”

Maggie's voice was suddenly lighter, buoyant. “Mam, do you know what you just said to me?”

“Of course I know. You deserve to be happy, Maggie. So does Rand; so does Sawyer. Each of you has to find the way to make that happen. It isn't too late for you and Rand. What was the last thing your father wrote to you, Maggie?”

Maggie recited the short, last letter Moss had written her. “Be happy. Those were his exact words. Mam, he said to be happy. Oh, my God, I sent Rand away. I was afraid to be happy. I'm still afraid. I love you, Mam,” Maggie cried before she hung up the phone.

“And I love you, too, Maggie,” Billie said softly as she replaced the phone. How important those words were! Everyone should say them at least once a day. Well, she was going to say them right now to the person who deserved them the most.

“Is this what you call staying alert?” Billie laughed at the sight of Thad dozing in the chair with three of Duchess's puppies snuggled against him. She dropped to her knees. “Are you going to tell me happiness is snuggling with a warm puppy?”

“They were just standing in till you got here. Did everything go all right?”

“Everything's fine. Come along, darling. I have plans for you, but first I want to tell you I love you with all my heart.”

Thad stared down at his wife, at the invitation and promise in her eyes. “And I love you for now and forever.”

“We make a good team, don't we?”

“The best,” Thad said as he snuggled the puppies next to Duchess in her bed by the fire. “The very best.”

 

Maggie lay propped up with a stack of lace-edged pillows behind her dark head, paper and pen in hand. Rand would think she was out of her mind. Maybe she was.

Jessica Margaret de Moray made her entrance into the
world on February 14, Valentine's Day. She was golden-haired and pink-skinned, weighed six pounds, two ounces, and measured eighteen inches long. For Susan it was love at first sight. Maggie and Amelia crowed with delight when the pink bundle was held at the viewing window for their pleasure and first introduction. Cary beamed and cooed through the nursery window.

“A woman shouldn't have to go through this alone,” Cary muttered to Amelia and Maggie on the ride back to Sunbridge.

“You're right; she shouldn't. But who the hell knows where that dog Jerome is? And he wouldn't have wanted to be here, anyway. Susan didn't ask for him once, but I knew what she was thinking. She felt deserted.” Maggie brightened. “But she's not alone anymore, is she. Now she has little Jessica Margaret.”

Cary laughed. “You don't really intend to call her that, do you? That's quite a mouthful for such a little thing.”

“No, I guess not.” Maggie sighed. “But I can't help reminding anyone who'll listen that Susan named her after Grandmam Jessica and me. It's an honor, Cary, it really is. Don't you think so, Amelia?”

“Yes, I suppose.” Amelia knew she was having a hard time coping with the birth of Susan's baby. It made her feel old, so old.... And Cary was taking this birth with such rejoicing. Did he want a child of his own? At forty-two, he certainly was young enough to become a father for the first time. But who'd give him that child? She certainly couldn't. No, it would have to be someone young, someone like Eileen.

Maggie was still jabbering. “I can't wait to shop for the baby. Lacy dresses, frilly bonnets. They make such beautiful toys these days—creative and progressive. Oh, and she must have an English coach carriage. You know, Amelia, like the ones those English nannies push around Hyde Park on sunny afternoons. The ones with the huge wheels. I'm going to telephone Harrod's first thing and have them send one over,” she said happily. She couldn't help wondering, though, why the baby hadn't been placed in a bassinet beside the other infants after the viewing. The masked nurse had whisked little Jessie away as soon as the oohs and aahs were over.

The phone was ringing when Maggie and Amelia entered the house. Maggie caught it just before Martha. “Suse! What are you doing calling? Couldn't wait to hear the compliments over little Jessie? You should be resting.”

She listened, her face going absolutely blank.

“What's wrong?” Cary asked, his arm going around Maggie for support.

“I've never heard of spina bifida. Operating on her when she was just born!” Maggie listened intently. “Suse, I'm coming back to the hospital to be with you. Yes, yes,

I want to.“ She replaced the receiver and sat down on the bottom step of the staircase.

“Don't keep us in suspense, Maggie. What's wrong?” Amelia demanded.

“It's the baby. She was born with something wrong with her spine, a hole or something. Suse doesn't quite understand it yet. They're going to operate within the next few hours.”

Amelia shook her head. “Will it never stop? Always one crisis after another. And Susan all alone except for us. She should have a husband by her side.” Her eyes narrowed. “It's all Jerome's fault! If there's anything wrong with that child, he's to blame. Working Susan the way he did, fitting her into corsets so her pregnancy wouldn't show—”

“Amelia,” Maggie implored wearily, “please don't go on this way. I know Jerome was hard on Suse, but I'm certain none of this was his doing, or Susan's, either. It just happened. Little Jessie will be fine; she has to be. Whatever you do, don't repeat any of this to Susan. She has enough to contend with. Do you understand?”

“Yes, of course we do, Maggie,” Cary interjected. “You won't say any of this to Susan, will you, Amelia?” He spoke sternly, tightening his grasp on his wife's arm. “We'll all be very careful of what we say.”

“All right, Cary!” Amelia pulled her arm away. “You don't have to speak to me as though I were some kind of witch ready to pounce on Susan.” She flew up the stairs, brushing past Maggie, her slim-heeled Bally shoes noiseless on the thickly padded carpet runner.

“Now, what the hell has gotten into her?” Cary asked. “She's so damn irritable lately; everything I say seems to come out wrong. I didn't mean to be rough on her, but there's no telling what she'll do these days. I didn't want to take the chance that she'd face Susan with all sorts of accusations that wouldn't help the situation.”

“I know, Cary,” Maggie said quietly. “But remember that Amelia practically raised Susan, and she's never really liked Jerome. She's worried and so am I. I'm leaving again for the hospital. Do you think you'll be here to eat dinner with the boys? You could tell them about the baby and reassure them that everything will be all right. At least I pray it'll be all right.”

Susan lay propped up in bed. The peach-colored bed jacket seemed out of place against the starched white sheets. The room was bare of flowers and cards. Tomorrow it would be full.

“Here, blow,” Maggie said, holding out a white handkerchief.

Susan blew her nose obligingly and dabbed at her eyes. “They're operating on her right now. The doctors assure me it's standard procedure for spina bifida. I didn't even know what it was till they told me. It originates in the first month of pregnancy. The vertebrae of the spinal cord are not formed correctly. That's why they have to operate right away. It's my fault. I knew I should have taken better care of myself. I shouldn't have let Jerome bully me the way he did.”

“Suse, it's not your fault and the doctor will tell you so. Children are born all the time with defects. They're operating, so that will make it right, won't it?”

“There could be fluid in the brain. The doctor said they can treat and monitor the children and possibly they can grow into independent adults living full lives. But I know it won't happen. Why should I be one of the lucky ones?”

“You can't think like that,” Maggie said sternly. “Your thoughts have to be positive. Your baby is alive and being taken care of. Other mothers aren't that lucky. Count your blessings.”

“I am. I'm fortunate that the pediatrician recognized the disease and acted on it. This is one of the few hospitals that can treat it. I was listening, but he was talking so fast, I think I only caught half of it, and I was a little groggy. He said something about incontinence of bowel and bladder, paralysis of leg muscles, and lack of sensation. That's all I know.”

“We'll find out all there is to know tomorrow,” Maggie promised. “When the doctor comes back, you'll have to talk to him yourself and ask every question you can think of. It's going to be all right, Susan. Be glad you're here with your family. We'll all do what we can.”

Susan held on to Maggie's hand until she dozed off. An hour later the doctor entered the room. He was a tall man, dressed in operating green. He looked, Maggie thought, like a man who didn't smile enough. He was smiling now, though. How awesome, she thought, to hold the power of life and death in your hands. She looked at his long, slender fingers. What must he have thought when he sliced into that tiny back? She had to know, had to ask. “Please, Doctor, tell me, what did you think about when you started to operate?”

“I wasn't thinking. I was praying. I always pray when my scalpel makes the first incision. The baby came through just fine. She's sleeping now and will get some glucose in a little while. It's too early for me to say anything else at this time. So, for now I'd say the baby is resting.” He smiled again, a smile that would warm any mother's heart.

Four hours later Susan woke, a look of alarm on her face. Maggie reached up to smooth the hair back from her brow. “Jessie came through the operation just fine. She's sleeping and probably getting glucose right now.”

“He came in, the doctor, I mean?”

“Hours ago. I didn't want to wake you. He said he'll be in to see you tomorrow. I checked with the night nurse a while ago, and she said when you woke they'd wheel you down to see her. Suse, he said he prayed when he made the first incision. I thought you might want to know that.”

“Thanks, Maggie. I couldn't have gotten through this without you.”

“After you see the baby, try to get some sleep. It's what you need now.” Maggie kissed Susan lightly and tasted the salt of her tears. “You can handle it,” she whispered.

“Yes, I will. It's late. Go home. Call Mam.”

“I already did, but I'll give her another call. See you tomorrow.”

 

Cary felt as though he were tiptoeing around the bedroom when he was really making more noise than usual. He knew Amelia was antsy, waiting for him to ask what was bothering her. Had she understood about his trip to New York? Damn, it couldn't have come at a worse time. Just last week she'd told him that in the next few days the carpet and draperies were going to be installed in the house and she'd have to be there. She was bound to think he'd planned this trip deliberately so she wouldn't be able to go with him.

Amelia had been acting strange these past few weeks. She'd taken the news of Sawyer's illness very badly. And tonight she'd curled into a ball on her side of the king-size bed. He'd had to be extra gentle with her, cajoling her into telling him what was wrong. She'd gulped and cried that suddenly, for the first time, she was aware of her own mortality. Think of little Jessie; think of Sawyer. It could happen to anyone—it could easily happen to her. Look how much older she was. He'd tried everything he knew to shake her out of it, but she'd been inconsolable. Now he had no choice but to go to sleep. He
had
to get up in the morning. It wouldn't make a difference if Amelia was late getting to her house.

When Cary woke the following morning, more tired than when he'd gone to bed, he saw Amelia lying on her back, staring at the ceiling. He knew she hadn't slept at all. He felt annoyed with her and then with himself that she could upset him like this. God knows he'd done his best. He'd shared every aspect of his life with her, and there weren't many men who did that.

Cary lay quietly for a few moments listening to Amelia's light breathing. God, he loved her. Of all the women he'd slept with in his life, she was the one he wanted to wake up next to. She always smiled and reached out to him. He knew he'd be grouchy and irritable all day if he didn't make the first move. He reached out, a sleepy smile on his face. “C'mere.”

Amelia obligingly snuggled closer to him. She sighed deeply. This was where she belonged. “I'm sorry I was so...”

“Bitchy?”

Cary could feel the smile against his shoulder. “Yes, bitchy. I don't expect you to understand about this family. All I can do is tell you the way it is. Susan's baby ...”

“Amelia, listen to me. I do understand. It gnaws at my gut about Sawyer. She hasn't even begun to taste what life has to offer. But neither of us can change things. If it was something simple like an organ transplant, I'd donate one of mine if it would make you happy. Susan's baby is alive. It could be worse, much worse. None of it is your fault. You can't shoulder it all.”

“I'm not trying to. I'm trying to come to terms with it. Oh, Cary, I'm so afraid to die.”

“Don't you think everyone feels like that? I do. Just the thought of leaving this earth and not having you with me makes me sick to my stomach. Now, I know men aren't supposed to say such things, but that's how I feel. You're my life, Amelia. I wouldn't be here now doing what I'm doing if it wasn't for you.”

Amelia rolled over petulantly. “I don't want you to be grateful to me.”

“Goddammit, Amelia. I am grateful. That's only a small part of it. Why are you fighting me? We never had a problem till we came back here. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe I wasn't cut out to take on this project. I did it for you. For us.”

Amelia stubbornly closed her ears to Cary's explanations. She'd heard it all before. Why wasn't he talking about Eileen? Eileen was what was bothering her. Couldn't he see it? If he understood her as well as he said he did, he should know what was bothering her.

“When are you leaving for New York?”

“Tomorrow morning.” Cary sighed. He couldn't dally any longer or he'd be late for the office.

Amelia made no effort to get out of bed. So what if she was late? The contractor had a key to the house; he could let the workmen in. Cary was upset with her. She was upset with Cary. Where did they go from here?

She swung her legs over the bed, slipped into a lime-green robe and matching mules, then fluffed at her hair. “How busy are you going to be in New York?” she called through the open bathroom door.

“Pretty busy. My evenings should be free, though. At least part of them. Want to change your mind and hit Fifth Avenue?”

“No. I was thinking maybe I'd make the trip with you and go on to Vermont and see Billie. I guess I can delay things at the house. I could join you the last day and we could see a play or something. I don't want to interfere with your business.” Warily she watched him to see his reaction. He appeared to be delighted.

“That's a great idea. Call Billie and tell her before I leave so I know you'll be happy today You'll have to make a reservation, though. I can have Eileen do it for you.”

“I'll do it. Yes, I think it's a great idea myself. I need a break. We could take Sawyer and Adam out to dinner if she's up to it. I'll pack your evening clothes.”