The nursery door was open, and she moved silently so she could see into the room.
Rome was on his knees on the floor, Missy in his arms. He held her cuddled to his chest, and the raw, strangled sounds came from him.
Sarah almost moaned aloud. She wanted to go to him, to wrap her arms around him and comfort him in his grief, grief for the children he’d lost, grief for the child he hadn’t wanted. But this was his private moment of recognition with his daughter, and Sarah silently made her way back to bed.
She lay quietly, wiping away the tears as they wet her face. It was a long time before Rome came back to bed, sliding under the covers in a careful manner. She could tell that he was simply lying there, unable to sleep, but she didn’t reach out for him. He was fighting a terrible inner war, and she couldn’t help him.
He didn’t mention it the next day, but there was a quietness about him, a sense of peace that hadn’t been there before. He left for the office, and Sarah dressed Missy for her day at the store. There was nothing she could do but carry on exactly as she had before.
Derek only had a half-day of school, and he came in after lunch. Deftly he lifted Missy from her carrier, kissing her downy cheek. With the incredible sense of timing he had, he looked at Sarah as he jiggled the baby. “Is everything going to be all right for you?” he asked.
“Yes, I really think it will be,” she replied. “How did you know?”
“The way you look.” He smiled at her with deep tenderness. “I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist her for long.”
Perhaps Derek had inside information, Sarah thought, watching him as he walked around the store with Missy in his strong young arms, talking to her as if she understood every word he said, and showing her all the brightly colored items that would interest her. And perhaps she did understand him; Max had compared Derek to an archangel. He might not be an angel, but he walked with them.
Sarah didn’t deviate from her routine; Missy was sound asleep when Rome came in from the office. They ate dinner as usual, talked casually; she read while he read a few reports. Then she got ready for bed, checked on Missy, and crawled gratefully into bed, yawning.
Rome came out of the bathroom, drying his broad shoulders. “Here,” he said, tossing the towel to her. “Dry my back.”
He sat on the bed and she rubbed the towel over his back, then pressed a quick kiss on his spine. Tossing the towel to the floor, he turned to push her onto the pillows. “I can’t tell you how much I love you,” he said quietly.
“Try,” she urged.
He laughed, bending down to kiss her with growing hunger. His lovemaking was incredibly sweet and intense that night; he held back, satisfying her time and again before letting himself go, then holding her tightly until she slept.
Missy woke in the early hours, wanting to be fed. Before Sarah could get out of bed, Rome threw the covers back and got to his feet. “Stay there,” he said. “I’ll bring her in here.”
In a moment he was back, with a fussing infant in his arms. As he gave her to Sarah he said, “You know, don’t you? You were awake last night.”
“Yes, I know.” All the love in the world shone out of her eyes as she looked at him.
“You should hate me,” he said roughly. “For what I wanted to do.”
“No, never. You were hurting, and you wanted to protect yourself. I understood.”
He looked at the baby as she nursed, and his hard dark face took on such a tender expression that Sarah came apart inside. Very gently he touched Missy’s cheek with one forefinger. “She’s more than I deserve. I got a second chance all the way around, didn’t I?”
No, not a second chance, a second miracle. He’d been a man dead inside, and love had brought life back to him. He’d always carry the scars that marked the people he’d loved and lost, but he could go on living now. He could laugh again, and enjoy the passing of the seasons. He could watch his child grow, delight in her shrieks of laughter, her innocence and enthusiasm, and give his love wholeheartedly to his second miracle.
He leaned over and kissed Sarah with slow deliberation, with love and passion. When Missy had been fed and was in her crib, he wanted to make love to his wife again, to show her how much he loved her. She was his first miracle, bringing him back into the sunlight.
ISBN: 978-1-5525-4527-0
SARAH’S CHILD
Copyright © 1985 by Linda Howington
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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