Silver Miracles (16 page)

Trinity shut her eyes against Chase’s smile. She didn’t want to remember the nights she had slept wrapped in Chase’s arms, anchored against his long, lean body.

His hand softly caressed the side of her face, and his voice droned on. "I want to be in here with you, Trinity, in case you get sick in the night and need me."

Her green eyes flashed open. "Isn’t it amazing how I managed to live this long without you?"

Chase lowered his mouth and touched hers briefly, gently, sweetly. "You’re a wild, beautiful child, Trinity Ann Warrenton, and I’ll never again do anything to hurt you."

He got up and walked around the bed. Stripping down to his undershorts and climbing into bed beside her, he turned off the light.

Trinity lay very still, trying to figure out what had just happened. She had flung a remark at Chase that had been dripping with sarcasm, and he had answered her with a comment that seemed to have come out of left field. It had made no sense at all.

Groaning, she turned her back to Chase. She really shouldn’t have eaten that enchilada, but it had seemed like such a good idea at the time. Maybe next time she should try a pizza. . . .

Trinity stiffened as she felt Chase’s arms go around her and pull her to him. "Easy," he breathed softly into her ear, "easy. What’s wrong? Does your tummy hurt?"

"Yes," she moaned.

"Here." Chase’s hand found her stomach and began to rub lightly.

To her surprise, Trinity gradually relaxed. There was nothing sexual about Chase’s touch. With his body curved around her . . . his breath warm on the back of her neck . . . his hand gently relieving the tension in her stomach . . . Trinity found comfort and, with it, a deep sleep.

The next morning and every morning thereafter in the weeks that followed, Trinity awoke in Chase’s arms. She never knew which one of them it was who turned to the other in the night, and neither one of them ever mentioned it. All she knew was that her first waking sensation was always of Chase’s arms around her, usually with his hand lying protectively over her stomach.

The days passed slowly, each one bringing the same gray monotony that seemed to be a steady partner to her listless ill health. The only break in the tedium came with watching Chase. That perhaps she might have miscalculated about him, Trinity pushed firmly to the back of her mind. Instead, she watched suspiciously as he took over nearly every phase of her life.

The first surprise came the next morning. Chase, carrying a cup of coffee, strolled into the bedroom to find Trinity standing irresolutely in the middle of the room.

"What are you doing?"

"I’m trying to decide if I can make it to the bathroom before I throw up."

"For heaven’s sake, Trinity! Get back into bed."

"I can’t." She ran shaking fingers through the tangles of her hair. "When are you leaving for work?"

"In a few minutes. I’ve got an important appointment in Dallas, but Mangus will be here. Do you want a cup of coffee?"

Trinity turned green and ran for the bathroom, reaching it just in time. Her stomach wrenched painfully time after time as she heaved up her dinner from the night before. Chase stood beside her as he had the day before, holding her forehead and, in some indefinable way, giving her support.

Helping her back to bed, he asked, "Can I bring you anything?"

"No. Why don’t you go on to work?" Trinity needed to get Chase out of the house so that she could get on with the things she had to do, but she felt so weak that she spoke without thinking. "When Mangus gets here, he can bring me some tea and crackers. Maybe my stomach will settle down and I can get up and take a shower."

"Why? You don’t have to get up at all today if you don’t feel like it."

"Yes, I do," Trinity argued frustratedly. "I’ve got to go see Dr. Curtis!"

It just didn’t seem fair that she should have to put up with Chase and a twenty-four-hour-a-day nausea. One or the other of them would have been more than enough for her. If Chase thought he could meddle in every corner of her life, he had better think again! Coming to a halt in her mental ranting, she suddenly realized that Chase had gone very still.

"You have a doctor’s appointment today, and you weren’t going to tell me, were you?" Chase’s intonation was curiously flat.

Trinity looked up in puzzlement. "Why should I? It’s got nothing to do with you. It’s my doctor’s appointment, not yours."

Chase turned on his heel and strode out, returning in ten minutes with a cup of steaming tea and a plate of crackers. "I’ve canceled my appointment, so whenever you’re ready, I’ll drive you into town."

Trinity opened her mouth but shut it again at the sight of Chase’s uncompromising face.

"Not another word," he ordered shortly.

Two hours later Trinity sat in the doctor’s office and eyed with a newfound dislike the elderly gentleman who had taken care of her for years. Dr. Curtis was merrily telling Chase her whole medical history. Worse than that, Chase appeared to be lapping up the information.

Dr. Curtis broke off his monologue to beam over his glasses at Trinity. "I’m so glad you brought Chase in with you this morning, my dear."

Trinity ground her teeth together and smiled at the doctor, groaning inwardly when he continued. "It’s very important to get the father involved in the entire birthing process, you know." He switched his gaze back to Chase. "I assume you know of Trinity’s anemia problem."

Chase smiled suavely at the man in front of him while he reached over and took Trinity’s hand in a painful grasp. "Of course, but I’d like to hear what you’ve got to say about it, Dr. Curtis."

"Certainly. Unfortunately, Trinity is having a more difficult time of it than she did when she was carrying Stephanie. She was in a run-down condition before she ever came to me. In addition, I believe there is the added complication of a great deal of mental stress involved. But as soon as I found out about the pregnancy, I immediately prescribed an iron supplement, along with a diet regimen that I consider important for all my mothers-to-be." He glanced shrewdly at Trinity. "To what degree have you been able to follow it?"

"I. . . actually . . . uh . . . I—"

"Not at all, doctor," Chase’s succinct voice cut right to the heart of the matter as it broke into her stammerings. "Trinity’s been too ill to hold very much down."

Dr. Curtis looked at her thoughtfully. "As I told you, my dear, there is something I can give you for that nausea. We could start out with a fairly low dosage and go from there."

"No." Trinity shook her head. "Definitely not. I thought I had made it clear. I won’t take any medicines while I’m pregnant. I will not risk harming my baby."

"You have to realize, Trinity, that something has got to be done soon. You can’t go for weeks on end without getting nourishment of any kind. You’ll not only be hurting the baby, but you’ll be hurting yourself, as well."

Trinity squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. She couldn’t argue with logic like that, but she didn’t know what to do about it.

She refused to be put on any medication. She had heard too many horror stories about women who had babies that were born either sick or malformed, and years later it would be traced back to the medicine their mothers had taken during their pregnancy, the same medicine their doctors and the government had deemed safe. But at the same time, Trinity didn’t want to be cooped up in a hospital for any length of time. She didn’t think she could stand it.

As it turned out, Trinity could have saved herself the mental anguish over her predicament, because, as was his way lately, Chase made the decision. "Why don’t we give it a little while longer, Dr. Curtis? I’ve taken steps to ensure that Trinity will be able to get all the rest she needs. She won’t have the farm, the house or Stephanie to worry about, and she’ll have someone to cook and serve any type of food you think best."

The older man leaned back in his chair and viewed them both with interest. "And you’re going to cooperate, Trinity?"

She slanted Chase a reluctantly grateful glance for his astute assessment of her feelings. "I promise, Dr. Curtis. I know enough to realize I should have been trying frequently to nibble small portions of things like cheese and crackers, but I just felt too tired to prepare it, much less eat it."

"But you’ll start now? You’ll leave others to worry about the farm and Stephanie?" he persisted, evidently attempting to convince himself of her cooperation.

Trinity grinned wryly, reflecting that the good doctor knew her very well. "I promise," she repeated.

#

After that, Chase rarely left the farm, more or less moving his office to her kitchen, using the table as his desk. When mealtime came, he simply moved everything, including papers involving millions of dollars, to the floor until the meal was over. During the rare times when he couldn’t avoid the trip to Dallas, Chase always made sure that Mangus stayed with her while he was away.

In between bouts of nausea, when she could manage to put two thoughts together coherently, Trinity watched Chase with amazement. As the weeks passed, instead of getting bored and going away, as she had predicted, he became even more firmly entrenched in her home and life.

Hiring a man to take over the farm work, Chase took charge of the housework. He looked tirelessly after Stephanie and showed no distress about either cleaning up after Trinity or thrusting his hands into a sink full of dirty dishes and soapy water.

And he left no stone unturned when it came to her comfort and health. Chase bought Trinity a portable TV with remote control and installed it at the foot of her bed, as well as a very good stereo. She had only to mention a certain book or food and it appeared miraculously in front of her, in addition to the latest issues of any magazines and periodicals that he thought she might be interested in.

Trinity could only shake her head in wonder. It was nearly impossible for her to believe that this was the same hard, cold man she had met months ago. Yet she refused to believe that he could have changed that much in so short a time. Chase’s tough cynicism seemed somehow to have been transferred to her.

Returning from a trip to Dallas one evening, Chase walked into the bedroom carrying an armload of boxes. Tossing them on the bed where she lay, he began to pull off the tops.

"What on earth have you got there?"

"Maternity clothes," he enlightened her laconically.

"I don’t need maternity clothes," she protested indignantly.

"You can’t get your clothes buttoned now, Trinity" —he laughed at her—"and if those jeans you wear constantly are washed too many more times, they’ll fall apart."

She had been hoping that Chase wouldn’t notice how tight everything was becoming on her. She really couldn’t fasten her jeans anymore and had been making do by wearing big overblouses. Fortunately, Trinity had been eating much better and was beginning to fill out.

"I have some maternity clothes that are still perfectly good from when I was pregnant with Stephanie," she insisted stubbornly. Trinity didn’t add that she had worn the few items of clothing so many times that she had become heartily sick of them. That was why she hadn’t bothered to get them out yet. "And I’m sure Sissy has some left over that I can use."

"Sissy told me that you had given her the things you used when you were pregnant with Stephanie."

"Oh. That’s right. I had forgotten."

"And she’s dumped them."

"She couldn’t have!"

"They were rags, Trinity. Besides, when will you understand that you don’t have to ‘make do’ with old or borrowed stuff?"

Settling sullenly back among the pile of pillows on the bed, Trinity scowled.

Chase smiled serenely at her and spilled out the contents of the boxes. A rainbow of colors and textures fell around her, and, involuntarily she reached out to touch some of the clothes.

Beautifully cut and styled maternity clothes for every conceivable occasion were spread around her. Flowing silks and drifts of chiffon were fashioned into innovative and daring styles.

"They’re lovely," she admitted grudgingly. "Usually maternity clothes are horrifyingly practical looking. Where did you ever find such a selection?"

"A connection through Neiman’s. I just couldn’t see you in the usual frumpy maternity wear."

Chase’s blue eyes were warm and twinkling, and, for some reason that she couldn’t fathom. Trinity couldn’t bring herself to ask whether his connection was male or female.

He sat down on the bed beside her and held up one of the dresses against her chest, tilting his head to one side to get the effect. "This is my favorite. I was hoping you would try it on for me."

It was a silver-green swirl of a dress, long and flowing and very beautiful. But it was Chase that made Trinity catch her breath. Close enough that she could see the flecks of amber in his eyes and smell the musky fragrance of his skin, Chase’s touch was intimately compelling as he let the dress slide down her body but kept his hands on her.

"Your breasts are getting fuller," he rasped huskily, feeling them through the thin fabric of her gown. "Pretty soon you’ll have to start wearing a bra, won’t you?"

Trinity could only nod, such was the trance he had put her into. It was the first time in a long while that he had touched her with anything approaching sensuality. And maybe that wasn’t his intention now, but that was the way Trinity perceived it.

Lately, much to her chagrin, now that the periods between spells of nausea were lengthening, the natural needs Chase could always evoke so easily were reawakening in her.

His voice continued, deep and throaty, and reverberating through her brain. "I’ll hate it when you have to wear a bra." Chase began to slowly undo the buttons that ran down the front of her gown, finally parting it and running his hands over the naked skin he found there. "You have such beautiful breasts," he groaned right before his mouth found one hard tip.

Trinity moaned with the longing that shot straight through her at his touch. What was happening? She had been so sure that she didn’t love him anymore. Was it remotely possible that she could still be in love with him? She felt so confused. All Trinity knew was that, suddenly, she wanted him very badly.