Summer Rose (19 page)

Rose looked hesitantly at the invitation in the wastebasket. Could she really not go to Becky’s wedding? Rose had never met Becky, so there was no tug of friendship making her second-guess her decision. But there was Granny Jo. Wouldn’t she in essence be snubbing Granny Jo if she stayed away? The old woman had been a good friend when Rose needed one. Could she intentionally hurt Granny that way?

Pulling the invitation from the trash, Rose sat down on the couch, the envelope clutched in her hand, indecision clawing at her mind. Go. Don’t go. Standing, she went to the window and gazed out on the gray streets of Charleston, the tall buildings that blocked out the sun, the lack of trees and other greenery, the people who passed by without even a nod of greeting. Her heart ached for the beautiful serenity of Hawks Mountain and the cheery friendliness of the people of Carson.

But could she go back? It was a long drive, and she wasn’t sure her car would make it. August was one of the hottest months of the year, and the drive would be grueling in her condition.

You’re making lame excuses
, she told herself.
Your car’s been fixed, and it made it here. It can most assuredly make it back there. And you have air-conditioning in the car so the August heat is a moot point. You don’t have to interact with anyone. Simply go to the ceremony, wish the bride and groom good luck, give them your gift and then come home. If you don’t go you won’t find out what it is Granny Jo said you needed to see.

Now that all her excuses had gone up in smoke, she could be honest with herself. Truth be told, she was afraid of seeing Hunter, afraid that even being in the same building with him would give rise to the pain of losing him all over again. She’d worked very hard establishing a new life, a life free of him. How could she destroy all that?

Despite her misgivings
about attending the wedding, the morning of August twenty-seventh, she’d pawed through her closet for something that still fit over her now protruding middle, found a blue dress with an Empire waist whose style complimented her growing body and whose color accentuated her eyes. Then, after prolonged primping and getting her hair just so and her makeup perfect, she’d driven north knowing that coming to this event had the distinct potential to open wounds that had barely begun to heal.

The day dawned warm, sunny and as bright as a new penny. Rose stepped over the threshold of St. Paul’s Church. The sanctuary looked as if someone had scooped up Mother Nature and moved her inside. Huge satin bows hung from the end of every pew. The perfume from the yellow carnations and white daisies, overflowing from large vases that adorned the altar and each sill below the stained glass windows, filled the air. The residents of Carson filled all the pews to capacity. Rose wondered if there was anyone in town who hadn’t been invited to share the joining of Rebecca Hawks and Nicholas Hart.

Suddenly, she became conscious of being stared at. Several faces had turned toward her. Some familiar ones flashed smiles of recognition. Some held curiosity. She took a hesitant step backward. She could still leave. It wasn’t too late.

“Ma’am.” The voice beside her stirred Rose out of her thoughts. A handsome young man she recognized at Jeb Tanner, the star quarterback of the high school football team, held out his arm to her. Today he didn’t look like a football player. His shoulder pads and jersey had been replaced by a tux that fit him like a glove, and he looked older than his seventeen or eighteen years. “May I escort you to your seat?”

Rose nodded, then linked her arm with his and started down the aisle. Her tangled nerves resembled the embroidery threads at the bottom of one of her foster mother’s sewing baskets. Gathering her threatening emotions into a tight ball, she stared straight ahead, making a concentrated effort not to search the faces for the one she wanted to see, but at the same time dreaded seeing most.

“Rose.” The stage whisper had come from somewhere to her right.

Rose turned toward it to find Lydia smiling at her and motioning for her to take the empty seat beside her.

“I’ll sit here,” Rose told the young man. He stood aside while she slid into the seat, then turned and went back to the door to wait for the next guest he would escort in. She peered to Lydia’s other side. “Where’s Davy and Ken?”

“Ken took Davy fishing. Davy didn’t seem too interested in attending a wedding. He said weddings are for girls.” She laughed softly. “So Ken suggested he stay home with him, and that they do something manly instead. I let them off the hook.” Lydia looked pointedly at Rose’s swollen tummy. “When are you due?”

“Two months, but probably sooner. Twins.” she said, knowing no further explanation was needed to a woman who was already a mom. Rose dropped her gaze to her hands, avoiding the inevitable follow-up question that Lydia was too polite to ask. Finally, Rose looked at her. Lydia was a good person and definitely not a gossip. Not telling her seemed foolish. “They’re not Hunter’s.”

“Oh,” was all Lydia said, but the one word held a lot of surprise and a million more questions.

Briefly, Rose explained about Beth, then added, “I hadn’t planned on being a mom and I’m not sure I can be one, but it seems I don’t have much say in the matter now that Beth’s gone.”

Lydia patted her hand and leaned closer. “You’ll do fine. It all comes naturally. There will be stumbling blocks, but you’ll get past them. Besides, Hunter will come to his senses and be there to help, won’t he?”

That Lydia knew about the situation between Rose and Hunter didn’t surprise her. Ken had probably confided in her and besides that, in small towns like Carson, gossip traveled faster than a swarm of locust in a wheat field. Despite all that, Rose wanted to set the record straight about her and Hunter. She opened her mouth to tell Lydia, but the organ music stopped any further conversation.

The young man who had escorted Rose brought Granny Jo down the aisle to the front. The older woman looked stunning. Her hair had obviously been done by a beautician, and the muted-yellow, lace dress she wore suited her to a
T
. A small corsage of daisies lay against her shoulder. As she passed Rose, she winked and smiled at her.

Shortly after Granny Jo was seated, the wedding march began to play, and the usual wedding parade of a maid of honor, two bridesmaids, and a ring bearer made their way up the aisle. Then came a flower girl dispersing silk rose petals over the wooden floor. Becky followed in her wake in a flowing gown of white lace, bugle beads and glittering sequins. In her hands she held a large bouquet of daisies and yellow carnations with a white ribbon cascading to the floor.

When Becky passed her and Rose turned forward, she found that a very handsome, tuxedo-clad Nicholas Hart stood in front of the altar with his groomsmen watching his bride approach. A smile that rivaled the summer sun lit his face. He took her hand, and Reverend Thomas began speaking.

“Dearly beloved . . .”

The beautiful ceremony, complete with vows written by the bride and groom, took Rose’s breath away. They looked so much in love, as if nothing in this world existed at that moment but each other.

Tears stung her eyes. These two beautiful people had a future to look forward to while all she had was the uncertainty of motherhood. Coming here had been a huge mistake. It had only served as a raw reminder of all the things she’d never have with Hunter.

How she wished . . . She stopped that thought before it could fully form. No sense wishing for things that could never be.

From his seat at the very back
of the church, Hunter had seen Rose come in. And he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her ever since. He didn’t need to be next to her to know that the color of her dress matched the sky blue of her eyes or that touching her skin would be like caressing a rose petal or that her hair smelled like mountain wildflowers. He’d stored all that away in his memory and only took it out when the pain of having lost her became unbearable.

The months since Rose had left had been the longest months of his life, and her appearance here came as a shock to Hunter. A pleasant one, but nevertheless a shock.

Ken had employed every asset at his disposal to find her, but no one seemed to know where she’d gone. Still, he hadn’t given up hope that either she’d turn up or they’d get a break and locate her. But he’d never in a million years expected her to come walking into the church as though she’d been here all along.

Hunter had been so focused in on Rose that he hadn’t heard one word of the ceremony. When the organ blasted out the strains of “We’ve Only Just Begun,” he jumped, surprised to find the bride and groom walking out the door arm in arm, followed by the wedding party, then a grinning Granny Jo.

As the guests began to file out, he watched Rose make her way down the aisle and thought about approaching her, asking her to walk with him so he could explain his abrupt departure when she told him about the babies. Maybe even take her to the reception at the church hall.

The she looked up. Their gazes locked. She blinked, frowned, shook her head and then looked quickly away and hurried out the door. Hunter’s heart sank. Obviously she didn’t want to talk to him.

He sat there for a long time as the church emptied out and the guests greeted the newlyweds at the door. He had no desire to interact with anyone—least of all a happy couple embarking on a life of love and happiness together.

Outside the church doors,
Rose paused and let the summer sun take the chill from her body. Seeing Hunter had drained all the warmth from her. She’d hoped he would make some move to speak to her, but when he just stared, she knew that hope was futile.

Mechanically, she filed with the other guests past the bridal party, saying the right thing, wishing them happiness when her own heart lay in shattered bits inside her, and wanting it to be over so she could go back to her tiny apartment and cry.

Just beyond the milling crowd, she caught sight of Ken and Davy waiting for Lydia. Forcing a smile she didn’t feel, she walked toward them.

“Hey, Miss Rose,” Davy called, smiling and waving. Then he paused and stared pointedly at her belly. “Wow, you sure did get fat!”

“Davy!” Lydia grabbed his arm. “That’s not polite. Apologize.”

His gaze dropped to his feet. “Sorry.”

“I’ll forgive you if you tell me all about Sadie.” Anything to keep from thinking about Hunter.

The changed expression on the boy’s face rivaled the sun. “Sadie’s gonna be a mom! Isn’t that cool, Miss Rose?”

“A mom?” She glanced at Lydia, who nodded. “Well, that’s terrific. You’re gonna have a whole bunch of wolves to take care of now.”

“Yeah. Doc says it’s not usual for wolves to get pregnant this time of year. He thinks she’ll have five or six pups.”

“And when is this going to happen?”

“In a couple of months. We’ll be taking her out to the Doc’s place when she gets close to having them, so she doesn’t wander off in the woods. Last time, somebody killed all her babies.”

Rose gasped. “How did you know that?”

The boy bit his lip. “I heard you and Doc talking one time.”

Ken laid his hand on Davy’s shoulder. “Hey, sport. How about you wait in the car for your mom and me? I wanna talk to Miss Rose for a minute.”

“Okay. Bye, Miss Rose.” He scampered off toward the parking lot.

“Bye, Davy.” She watched him for a moment, and then turned to Ken. His smile did nothing to calm the butterflies that had suddenly erupted in her stomach. She had a feeling she knew what Ken wanted to talk about, but asked anyway. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Actually,” Ken said, looking very secretive, but also pleased, “I didn’t want to talk to you so much as to show you something.” He glanced away from Rose for a second to follow Davy. Rose presumed it was to make sure he was going to the car and not wandering off.

Rose hesitated. “What is it that you want to show me?”

“Go with him, child.” Granny Jo had come to stand beside them in the church parking lot. “You need to see this.”

Still Rose hesitated. Was this what Granny had said in her note that Rose needed to see? “What is it I need to see and where are we going?”

Rose glanced from Ken to Granny Jo and then to Lydia. All of them were looking at her with toothy grins that should have been center stage in a toothpaste ad. Obviously this was something the three of them had concocted amongst themselves.

The older woman smiled. “You’ll see. Now, go along with Ken.” She placed her hand in the small of Rose’s back and gave her a gentle nudge forward toward the car where Davy was grinning at her through the back window.

Still unsure of what to do, she played for time and glanced around the empty church parking lot. All the wedding guests had gone to the reception. The only vehicles left were Ken’s and that of an older woman beckoning frantically for Granny Jo to join her.

“I’m coming,” Granny Jo called to her friend, then kissed Rose’s cheek and hurried off.

Rose turned to her companions. Still stalling for time, she asked Lydia and Ken, “What about the reception? Don’t you two want to go, too?”

Lydia linked her arm with Rose’s. “We’ll catch up with them later.” Gently, she propelled Rose toward their car. “Now, come on. This is more important.”

Still a bit uncertain, Rose walked with Lydia to the car and climbed into the backseat beside Davy. She leaned over and whispered, “Where are we going?”

Davy shook his head, and then placed a finger over his lips. “It’s a secret. But you’re gonna like it.”

“Davy,” his mother warned sternly from the front seat. “Zip your lip.”

He made a motion across his mouth as if pulling a zipper closed. Evidently Rose wasn’t going to get anyone to talk. Resigning herself to taking this mystery ride, she leaned back in the seat.

Ken guided the car
out of the church parking lot and headed out of town and then onto Lower Mountain Road. As they drove up the winding road, Rose looked out her side window and wracked her brain to figure out what it could possibly be that they were so anxious for her to see, but nothing came to mind. Then she glanced at her fellow occupants of the car. No one was talking, but she could see an extremely pleased grin on Ken’s face in the rearview mirror.

She was about to take another stab at getting Davy to talk when Ken made a right hand turn onto Santee Ridge Road. Rose froze. Why were they going up here?

“Ken—”

Before she could finish, Ken had turned the car into the driveway of what had once been Beth’s home. But it didn’t resemble the ramshackle house Rose had seen on the day she’d left Carson. She blinked, unable to believe what lay before her.

Emotions far too complicated to sort out swirled inside her. Confusion, surprise, puzzlement and a profound sense of delight that someone had brought the house back to life.

Between the road and the freshly mowed lawn stood a white picket fence, obviously new and recently erected. The rusted mailbox had been exchanged for a shiny aluminum one, but there was no name on it to identify the occupants of the house. The house itself had been painted a bright white that glowed in the summer sun. Broken window panes and missing roof shingles had been replaced. The formerly rickety porch appeared to have been totally rebuilt and extended the full length of the front of the house. At one end of the porch, a gentle breeze nudged two rocking chairs into motion, making them appear as if they were occupied by ghosts.

Thinking that someone had bought the house, fixed it up and wanted to sell it, she looked around for a For Sale sign. But there was none. But none of this explained why they’d brought her here.

Then something else caught her attention . . . the profusion of blooming, yellow, summer rose bushes that had been planted at the base of the porch foundation. Exactly where Beth had said they were when she’d lived here, but Rose doubted her friend had ever had lived here, and if she had, it certainly hadn’t been anything like Beth had painted it.

Were the roses a coincidence?

Ken turned sideways in his seat and smiled. “Well, what do you think?”

Rose couldn’t find her voice. She was too busy sorting through all she’d seen, trying to understand what it had to do with her.

Davy opened his car door and grabbed her hand. “Come on. You have to see what’s out back.”

Hampered by her protruding belly, Rose climbed clumsily from the backseat, and then followed him up the front path. Ken and Lydia quickly brought up the rear. At the front steps, the path divided into a
Y
. One section led to the house, the other veered around the porch toward the backyard.

Davy took her hand and tugged. “Come on, Miss Rose. Hurry up. This way.” He guided her past the porch and around the corner where she stopped dead in her tracks

Hanging from the old maple tree were two baby swings suspended on chains from heavy-duty eye hooks screwed into the fat limbs. She was beginning to suspect who the new owner was, but it made no sense.

The boy held out a hand in the direction of the tree, as if he was introducing a rock star to a concert audience. “Well . . .”

Rose frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Two swings,” he said as though she couldn’t see them.

“Yes, I can see that, but—”

“One for each of the babies.”

Rose stiffened. Her heart began to race. That voice could belong to only one person. Dare she hope?

Slowly she turned around. Davy, Lydia and Ken had moved off to the side of the yard, but Hunter stood a few feet away.

He looked . . . hesitant, maybe even a bit afraid. Nevertheless, she drank in the sight of him. The glimpse she’d had in the church hadn’t been nearly enough to fill the empty hole in her heart.

She couldn’t recall him being so tanned, or his hair having so many blonde streaks through it. But his eyes . . . oh, those eyes. They still had the power to make her knees go weak. Wait! Blonde streaks. Tanned skin. Had he . . .

“Did you do all this?” She waved her hand at the house.

He nodded. “I bought it a few weeks after I went to take care of Sam’s colicky horse.”

Rose frowned. “Why?”

He took several steps closer to her. “Why do you think? I knew what this house meant to you . . . to Beth and the dreams you both had for it. I also knew how disappointed you’d be if you saw it in the shape it was in before I fixed it.” He paused for a moment. “But not nearly as disappointed as you must have been in me the day I walked out.” He glanced toward Ken, then back to Rose. “I . . . we searched everywhere for you, but you’d vanished. I wanted to explain. Do you have any idea how scared I was when we couldn’t find you?”

A breeze blew the scent of his aftershave to her. The smell brought back memories of long nights with him, of the security of his arms and the gentleness of his hands. “Now do you understand why I did it, why I renovated the house?”

“No. I still have no idea.”
Say it, Hunter. Please just say it. Tell me you love me. Tell me you want a future with me and my babies.
She held her breath and waited, but the words never came.

Instead, Hunter covered the space between them and grasped her shoulders. “Because I was an idiot. Because I threw away the thing I wanted most in the world. Because I hope you’ll forgive me and give me another chance.”

Rose’s heart sank. He hadn’t said what she longed to hear. He hadn’t said he loved her. But most importantly, he hadn’t said he wanted a family with her, that he wanted a life with her and her babies. So nothing had changed. Nothing.

She stepped away and turned her back on him to hide the tears that threatened to fall. “Of course, you’re forgiven. I’ve never been one to hold grudges. And I understand your reluctance to take on the responsibility of raising two babies that aren’t even yours. That’s only natural. I mean, a man shouldn’t have to raise babies he didn’t father.”
Keep talking. If you keep talking he can’t . . . Can’t what? Walk away? Tell you there can never be anything between you?
“I can easily see—”

Hunter walked around in front of her, grasped her shoulders and pulled her to him and then kissed her into silence. Kissed her like she’d never been kissed in her life, not even by him. Her head spun, and she had to cling to him to maintain her balance. Then without her permission, her arms snaked around his neck.

Hunter felt her surrender along with the simultaneous relief that washed through his tense body. When Ken told him what he had in mind if Rose showed up at the wedding, Hunter wasn’t at all sure it would work. But Ken had assured him she wouldn’t know anything until they got to the house. He’d been almost certain it wouldn’t work and that Rose would want nothing to do with him. But her reaction to his kiss said differently.

He’d hoped it would work, just as, when he’d undertaken fixing the house up, he’d hoped that one day they would share it with the babies she was carrying. But there had been no guarantees. It could have all blown up in his face.

The only thing that had given him any peace of mind, any optimism, any small thread of faith to cling to that there would be a future with Rose, was the memory of their lovemaking. So sweet, so intense. She couldn’t have reacted like that if she didn’t love him.

Somewhere behind him Hunter became vaguely aware of the sound of laughter and cheering. Slowly, he released Rose’s mouth and turned toward the sound. Davy, grinning from ear to ear, Lydia, beaming, and Ken, with an I-told-you-so expression, stood at the corner of the house applauding.

“Do you guys mind if we have a little—”

Rose stiffened in his arms, pulled away and then cried out in pain. “Oh, my God!”

Hunter jerked his attention back to her. Fear shot through him. “Rose?”

She groaned, then bent double, clutching her abdomen. Loosening one hand, she grabbed Hunter’s suit jacket in a desperate white-knuckled grip.

Hunter dropped to his knees and peered up into her ashen face, his hands gripping both her shoulders to steady her. “Rose, honey, what is it?”

She grimaced, opened her eyes and peered at him, her expression flooded with alarm. “The . . . babies . . . I . . . think . . . they’re . . . coming.”