The Promise (17 page)

“I promise you that I won’t.”

“And afterward I can go anywhere I choose?” 

“As soon as the doctor says you and the baby are in good shape.”

Which would be worse, she wondered, living with the man she loved, knowing he didn’t love her, and bearing his child with him by her side, knowing they would never be a family. Or facing alone her memories of that nightmare experience and the unknown of the reality.

Nine

Three months later, Sharon still didn't have an answer to her question.

Conall’s home was luxurious, spacious, and decorated with discriminating, exquisite taste. He had given her a suite down the hall from his. Over the months, she had added her own touches to the elegantly furnished rooms. Several newly purchased Hummel children graced the mantel. A stained glass bluebird hung in one of the windows. Pink and blue yam filled a wicker basket. Lately the blue yam had started to dominate. And in her bedroom, the cradle she had bought in San Diego had been assembled and stood waiting.

Though she was living in Conall’s house, she rarely saw him for any length of time. He left early in the morning and came home late at night.

But he made it a point to talk to her every day, either in person or by phone from his office. He always asked the same questions: How was she? Did she need anything? She always gave him the same reply. She was fine, and no, she didn’t need a thing.

Though on the surface it seemed they kept in close contact, the truth was they were never
with
each other.

It was for the best, she told herself. Less chance for her emotions to run away with her. Less chance that she might In some way reveal her love for him.

Besides which, her vanity was Involved. She was huge and clumsy and felt unattractive. She had forgotten what It was like to be able to see her toes, and these days It took her twice the time to do the simplest task. But she was managing as well as could be expected, she reflected. As well as could be expected, that is, for a two-ton elephant.

Either Conall’s housekeeper, cook, or his factotum, Robert—all three very nice people—were always in the house with her. And she kept occupied, reading, seeing movies, shopping, knitting, walking. And sometimes she would simply sit in the rocking chair by her bedroom window, stare out at the sky, and marvel over the life that was growing Inside her. Her most fervent wish was coming true. She was going to have a baby.

There was another wish, however, another yearning that troubled her greatly.

When she had first realized she still loved Conall, she had had to acknowledge that the love was an impossibility. And so she had made the painful decision to leave him and SwanSea and get on with her life. At the time she had thought she would be able to tuck her love for him away in some comer of her heart, rather like tucking a box of old letters in the top of a closet. She would know where it was and she could take the box down every so often to savor its contents, then return it to the shelf until the next time.

But once again a plan of hers wasn't working.

• * *

Sharon glanced at the clock on the table beside her. Midnight. She made a sound of disgust. She was really fighting the idea of going to bed tonight. But then, there was no use lying in bed, miserable, when she could be just as miserable sitting on the couch, reading.

Besides, as her pregnancy had advanced and the time drew nearer for her delivery, her nightmares about going to the hospital had become steadily worse. In the darkness of her sleep, the blood was a brilliant, vivid red color, and the pain like multiple stab wounds. It had reached the point where she'd rather stay awake than risk the mental suffering that would come with her dreams.

She made an attempt to settle herself more comfortably against the pillows that she’d arranged in a comer of the couch and went back to her book. Five minutes later, when she heard the knock at her door, she realized she was still on the same page.

“Come in,” she called, and waited expectantly for Conall to enter. Sometimes if he came home late and saw her light on beneath her door, he would stop to see how she was doing. And she had the sudden awful thought that maybe she had been subconsciously hoping to see him tonight and that was why she had delayed making her way to the bed.

The door opened, Conall walked in, and her heart leapt. Being nine months pregnant, she thought ruefully, didn’t keep her from responding with love and desire at the sight of him.

“Why aren’t you asleep?” he asked, crossing the room and sinking down into the opposite comer of the couch.

“I know it’s late, but I was really enjoying the book—” A tiny foot jabbed her In her stomach as If In rebuke for telling the white lie. Her hand dropped to the huge mound. “And,” she added, her tone wry as this time she told a portion of the truth, “I’m having trouble getting comfortable.” 

“Is the baby more active than usual tonight?” 

“Definitely. And his exercise periods seem to get longer and more strenuous with each passing day." She had noticed that Conall rarely referred directly to the baby, concentrating instead on her and her physical condition.

She had noticed something else too. The baby seemed to become unusually energetic whenever Conall was near, or sometimes even when he was just on the phone with her. Was it possible, she wondered, that the baby felt his father’s presence? No, she decided. More than likely the baby was simply responding to her accelerated pulse rate.

“Maybe he or she is getting eager to come out and see what the world is all about.”

“I think it’s going to be a he,” she said on impulse, and watched for a reaction. The polite, reserved mask he wore never slipped.

“Really? Why?"

“Just a feeling. When I talk to him, I seem to hear a little boy’s voice.”

“What does he say?”

She looked closely at him but could detect only casual interest. They were strangers, she thought. Strangers who had conceived a child—exactly as she had wanted. “Actually he reassures me a lot.” 

“About what?”

She had said more than she should, had revealed too much.
“Oh, things like hell never scare me with spiders or frogs. That sort of thing.”

He nodded as if he believed her. Or as if it weren't important to him whether or not she was telling the truth.

“Are you afraid of spiders and frogs?”

“I suppose I’ll learn to cope. Mothers do, I understand.”

“How much longer do you have? Two weeks?”

 “About that. The doctor says you never know with first babies.”

“I’m sure you’re eager to have it all over with.” 

“Yes. I'm excited about the baby, but ...” Her voice trailed off as suddenly the specter of the hospital appeared and froze her to the bone. “But what?”

“Nothing. Are you just getting home from work?”

“Yes. Now I’ve answered your question. You answer mine. What’s wrong?”

“I said nothing.”

Surprising her, he slid across the couch until he was closer to her. “Sharon, don’t you think I’ve noticed the shadows that have reappeared beneath your eyes? They’re exactly like the ones I saw when I found you in San Diego.”

“No—"

“Yes,” he said, gently contradicting her. “Now, I know you get up early and that you exercise. It seems to me you should be able to sleep, even with the discomfort of the baby.”

“Is that your diagnosis, doctor?” she asked, somewhat disconcerted to learn that he had been paying such close attention to her without her realizing it.

“All right, so I don't know what I’m talking about. But I do know what I can see with my own two eyes. You’re not sleeping. I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me why?”

“No.”

“Okay.” He stretched his arm along the back of the couch until it lay behind her.

The baby kicked. She eyed Conall nervously. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not sure. I guess I’m trying to figure out if you’re really all right."

She racked her brain for something she could tell him. “The doctor says—”

“I don’t want to hear what the doctor says. I want to hear what you say.”

She rubbed the side of her face, then dropped her hand back to her stomach. He wasn’t going to give up until she gave him a plausible explanation he would believe. She tried to think of one, but her mind was alarmingly blank. In the end she blurted out the truth. “I’ve been having nightmares. ”

“About what?” he asked, concern heavy in his voice.

“Going to the hospital. The idea terrifies me.” 

“But why? The hospital you will be going to is one of the finest in the country. I’m on the board of directors, and I can assure you that both you and the baby will be getting the very best of care.” 

“I know you’re right.” She glanced vaguely around the room, trying to find something on which she could focus and concentrate. Ultimately, her gaze returned to Conall. “It’s the same hospital.”

“The same hospital as what?”

She swallowed. “The same hospital I went to when I had the miscarriage.”

“Oh, my Lord.” His hand came off the back of the sofa to grip her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Sharon. It never once occurred to me that you’d still have bad memories of the place.”

“It’s silly, isn’t it? I mean, I know I shouldn’t be scared, but—” Her voice broke, and before she knew what he was doing, Conall gathered her close against him, huge stomach and all.

It had been so long since his arms had been around her, she wanted to close her eyes and soak up the sensations that came with being held by him. But now that she had started telling him of her nightmare, both waking and sleeping, she couldn’t seem to stop.

“I can still remember how cold I was,” she murmured, her face pressed against his chest. “Someone put a blanket over me, but I couldn’t stop shaking. A doctor had seen me and told me I was losing the baby and that I would have to be taken into surgery. Emergency was busy that night, and they didn’t have enough examining rooms for everyone, so they wheeled me out into a hall to wait until someone from surgery came for me. I don’t know how long I waited. But I remember people hurrying by me as if they didn’t see me, as if I didn’t exist.”

She was vaguely aware that she had begun to cry.

“It was the loneliest, most wretched feeling in the world. And then there was the pain and the blood and the cold.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, beginning a slight rocking motion with his body, comforting her as if she were a small child.

“And everything was so white. There was no color. Except for the blood. And there was no one who would hold my hand, call me by my name, and tell me everything would be all right, no one to care or even stop beside me, except the man who came to wheel me to surgery.”

He rocked her until she quieted. Then he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. There, he took off his shoes, jacket, and tie, climbed in beside her, and held her until morning.

And that night there were no nightmares.

When Sharon came down for dinner the next evening, she was surprised to see Conall sitting at the dining room table. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”

“I was able to break away early today,” he said, rising to pull out a chair for her.

As he pushed the chair in, he leaned over her, and she felt a rolling sensation in her stomach, then a tiny fist.

As he returned to his seat, she unfolded her napkin and placed it in her lap. “I owe you an apology, Conall.”

He looked over at her. “Not that I’m aware of.”

 “Yes, yes, I do. I should never have burdened you with my worries like I did last night.”

“I told you I’d be there for you when you need me, and I will. That’s a promise I won’t break.” She nodded and made an attempt at a light laugh. “I appreciate that, especially since this fear of mine is so foolish.”

He reached across the table for her hand. “I don’t think it’s foolish at all, and what’s more, I understand completely.”

“You do?”

“Yes,” he said, “and I’m going to make you another promise. When you go to the hospital this time, you won’t be afraid.”

“How can you promise me that?”

“Because I won’t let you be afraid.” He smiled at her expression of doubt. “I thought you believed a Deverell could do anything.”

“Yes, well ...”

He squeezed her hand. “Trust me.”

She still wasn’t sure she could, but there was one more thing he needed to know. “I was told earlier, and now it’s been confirmed by my doctor here. It appears that the birth canal is too narrow and the delivery will likely be by cesarean.”

His expression darkened, but his voice remained calm and reassuring. “I will be with you, Sharon. I won’t leave you. You can depend on me.”

She nodded, choosing not to share her doubts with him.

The conversation turned casual, and for Sharon, the evening passed enjoyably. At bedtime they parted, she going to her room, Conall to his.

But later, after she’d been asleep for several hours, the nightmares came again. She awoke shaking and in a cold sweat.

Without thinking through what she was going to do, she slipped out of bed, left her room, and hurried down the hall.

Conall heard his bedroom door open and switched on his bedside light to see Sharon. Her face was white, her lips colorless, and even with the distance that separated them, he could see that she was shaking.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, alarmed, sitting up. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, yes. It’s just that I had another bad dream, and I was wondering ...”

He pulled back the covers and slid over to give her room.

With a sigh of relief she crossed the room and climbed into bed beside him. She was so big, it took her a minute to get comfortably positioned, but finally she was settled, as close as possible to Conall without touching him. Lying on sheets already warmed by him, near enough to him to feel his body heat, she was content. And she slept without nightmares.

The next night, without any discussion of the matter, Conall waited until she had had time to get ready for bed, then went and got her and took her to his room.

That night and those that followed, with him lying beside her, she slept peacefully and dreamed only of him.