Created In Fire (Art of Love Series) (34 page)

“This is probably my punishment,” Carrie said, her voice hard and flat. “Maybe my father is right that things are just never going to work out right for me.”

“Stop that. Losing the baby was an accident. That’s all it was. You’re not being punished. I’m not being punished. This is just a sad situation. We’ll get through it,” he said, trying to assure her.

“I never wanted the baby, Michael. I can’t lie to you about it. I wasn’t ready to be a mother. I didn’t want your child—or any child. It’s okay if you hate me for that. I kind of hate myself for it,” Carrie said, her voice strong in her relief to be able to admit it at last. “I was seeing Dr. Whitmore and trying to find a way to stay with you until the baby was born. But I was still planning to leave you. I even quit my job.”

“
You quit your job?”
Michael repeated, shocked at the thought of her making that kind of decision without saying anything about it. “When did you quit?”

“I gave John four months notice just before we got married. I was timing my leaving with the childbirth. After the baby came, I was planning to move to Bowling Green and start a new life,” she said. “I don’t think I can do it in Lexington.”

Michael let go of her hand and leaned back in the chair.

“You’re going to hold me to our agreement,” Michael said, finding he wasn’t all that shocked. Somewhere in his scheming and manipulation, he had known that Carrie was never going to let herself be coerced into staying.

“It’s the only choice that makes sense to me,” Carrie said. “I knew it when I signed the prenuptial agreement.”

“Did you quit your job because of me? Because of the women I dated there?” Michael asked, though the question didn’t really need answering in his mind.

Carrie closed her eyes. “I won’t lie about that either. That was the biggest reason, but there were others. I want—I’m thinking about opening my own gallery.”

Michael nodded. He could see her doing that. He could see Carrie freelancing art sales and making a good living off the commissions they would bring her. But she shouldn’t have to leave her work because of him.

“No matter how many times I said I was sorry, it still would never come close to how sorry I really am about creating a situation that made you uncomfortable where you work,” Michael said.

“I finally accepted that as truth, but forgiving still didn’t make it easy to deal with them every day,” Carrie said, sniffling. “In the end, I just wasn’t tough enough to add dragon slayer to my business card. Dr. Whitmore is teaching me all kinds of things about myself. I don’t think I’m as tough as I always imagined.”

“Carrie—,” Michael began, but then couldn’t find the words.

“Michael, it’s okay. You were right. We really were just both living the best way we knew how at the time,” Carrie said. “You were right about that and about being a good man. You’ve been a good man to me.”

“But you don’t want to be my wife?” Michael asked.

Carrie looked at Michael. He cared for her—maybe even loved her as genuinely as he said. But her heart wasn’t her own to give to him, or to anyone. She was one big mass of bad memories and angry woman. The last few weeks with Michael were the best and happiest time of her life.

“I’m not ready to answer that question right now. Can we talk about it later?” Carrie asked.

Before Michael could answer, the door opened. Hospital staff came in to check her, followed by Ethan and Maggie.

Maggie rushed to Carrie, who immediately started declaring herself to be fine. Michael watched her pull her emotional armor around her to deal with her parents.

When he turned to leave the room, he found Ethan blocking his path.

“I’m sorry you and Carrie lost the baby, Michael. I mean that,” Ethan said, not surprised to see Michael’s red eyes or rapid blinking.

“Thanks, Ethan,” Michael said. “I’m going to take a break while you and Maggie are here.”

“Fine,” Ethan said, and then following his heart, he stepped into Michael Larson and put his arms around the man for a hug. He felt Michael’s quiet sob in his soul.

“I need to go,” Michael said roughly, pushing away from the comfort Ethan offered.

Ethan nodded as he stepped aside and watched Michael flee. He looked over at the bed and saw love and pride on his wife’s face. He hadn’t seen that love from her in many, many years.

“Is Michael okay?” Maggie asked, whispering because Carrie had evidently drifted back into sleep after the nurse had put something in her IV.

“No,” Ethan whispered back. “The man is hurting. There’s not much comfort you can give him.”

“He lost a child today that he wanted very much,” Maggie said sadly. “Michael and Carrie don’t realize yet that they can have as many more babies as they want. They’re so young.”

“I think you were right about him, Maggie,” Ethan said, sliding into a chair beside her. “Michael Larson’s not an easy man, but I guess he is a good man.”

“That’s because I’m a smart woman. I was right about you too,” Maggie said quietly. “I stayed with you all these years just so I could be here for this moment and tell you that I love you for hugging and comforting Michael. It took you long enough to become my hero, Ethan Addison.”

Ethan lifted a hand to his wife’s hair and brought it lovingly down to her cheek. “I love you, too. I truly see God’s grace in your eyes every day we’re together, Margaret Addison. Stay with me for the rest of our lives?”

For an answer, Maggie turned her face into Ethan’s palm and gave it a kiss as he chuckled.

Neither of them noticed Carrie turning her face hard into the pillow to hold back her sobs.

Chapter 23

“So are you seriously just going to let her go?” Shane asked, sipping his coffee as he studied Michael’s face. “It’s been a week now, and you’ve done nothing but drink beer and mope. That’s not like you. Somewhere in the drinking and moping cycle you usually figure out what to do.”

Michael drummed his fingers on the table and thought about Darla and Alison coming to retrieve Carrie’s personal things from the house. They didn’t take it all, but it still felt like she was gone.

The bathroom no longer smelled like her.

Thankfully the bed still did or sleep would be even more non-existent. He was not changing the sheets until he absolutely had to.

“I’m doing what I promised, Shane. The divorce papers are being delivered this morning. My only regret is that it’s going to cost me two thousand dollars to divorce a wife I only had for five days. I guess getting married wasn’t a very good investment,” Michael said, trying to joke.

“You better not have used the thousand I gave you for the divorce,” Shane said, not really considering it a joke when he was no closer to finding his mystery woman.

Thinking of her made him want to draw again, so he went to the refrigerator and pulled the tablet off the top. While he was there, Shane pulled open the freezer door to check its contents. It was just as bad as he feared.

“Your freezer has nothing in it but frozen yogurt. Are you ever going to tell me what you and Carrie needed six boxes of yogurt bars for?”

“No,” Michael said, sighing—remembering. Damn it. “On the plus side, since she’s been gone I’ve finished two more smaller art pieces and am working on a third already. I’m thinking maybe when this is done, I might see if Carrie will handle the sales for me. She’s mostly the reason I’m successful anyway. Maybe we’ll be friends. One day we’ll joke about the five days we were married.”

“
Michael
,” Shane said loudly, coming back to the table and setting his coffee cup down.

“God, you sound like Dad when you get all serious,” Michael said, smiling for the first time in days. It made his face hurt.

“I’m being serious now. Maybe you need to talk to someone about this. You’re grieving over the baby and your wife,” Shane said.

“I can’t afford a therapist,” Michael said, getting up and walking to the coffee pot. “I mortgaged the house to pay Carrie’s divorce settlement.”

“You’re kidding? What the hell was in that prenuptial agreement?” Shane demanded.

“Nothing about a settlement. The settlement is my idea,” Michael said carefully. “Carrie quit her job because of me. I can’t give her that back or make up for what I did that made her want to leave. So instead, I’m giving her money to start her art gallery. If I get really lucky, she won’t move to Bowling Green like she’s been planning to.”

Shane shook his head as his hand moved over the page. “I knew you weren’t just doing nothing.”

“It sure feels like nothing,” Michael said sadly, watching Shane whip out the image. “So how many pictures have you drawn?”

“The novel is coming along at last,” Shane said. “The heroine shows up on practically every page. I think the
Winged Protector
has fallen in love for real this time.”

Michael narrowed his eyes. “How many pictures have you drawn outside of the graphic novel?”

“I don’t know for sure,” Shane said, filling in the flash of her eyes.

He had learned to draw the light in them. She was practically jumping off the page. He hoped he wasn’t idealizing her too much. It might make it hard to settle for the real thing again.

I hope I’m not scaring you, she had said. It’s been a while for me.

Shane thought about the first time, the amazement on her face when he’d finally gotten all the way inside her. Shane sighed and put down the pen, raising his head to meet Michael’s gaze.

“Hell, Shane—are you drawing porn now?” Michael asked, looking at the woman’s face caught in mid-orgasm. An orgasm he assumed his brother was taking credit for in memory at least. “I wouldn’t be showing those to your friend Joseph or any other male. I can barely look at it without getting hard. The woman looks on the verge of screaming.”

“Shut up, Michael,” Shane said, his face turning crimson for the first time he could remember since he was teenager. He looked at the image. It looked just as he had intended. “She didn’t scream. At least not that time. The first time we were too surprised by how good it was just being together, but we did reach simultaneous orgasm. That’s a rare thing even between experienced lovers.”

Michael snorted at the businesslike recitation of Shane’s recounting. “And you think
I
need help?”

Shane laughed and looked at Michael wickedly. “Okay—maybe I have gone off the deep end a little. Let me take half those yogurt bars home with me. You know you’ll never eat them all by yourself before they expire.”

“Go to hell,” Michael said, grinning. “You touch my yogurt bars and you die.”

Shane grinned and ripped his drawing off the tablet.

“I knew you weren’t giving up. Larsons don’t give up,” Shane said.

“No,” Michael said. “But now and again, a woman does give up on us. I just hope my luck is better than Dad’s.”

Shane sighed, but what could he say?

*** *** ***

John knocked on the office door and peeked in at the woman busily working at her desk before stepping inside.

“I still haven’t gotten used to your hair. It looks really good on you though,” he said.

Carrie raised a hand to her newly dyed hair. She’d had to get it professionally done to get the color restored. “It’s very close to my natural color.”

John nodded, smiling tightly. “I happened to be at the front desk when a messenger dropped this package off for you. I recognized the messenger, since I’d used the same attorney. For the sake of discretion in the office, I thought maybe I should bring this back to you personally.”

John handed her the manila envelope, noticing Carrie took it with very steady hands.
Balls,
John thought. The woman had always had a pair. The last few weeks had been an aberration.

Carrie glanced at the writing on the outside and opened the envelope without pausing or flinching. Inside was exactly what she had expected, along with a cashier’s check for one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, which she had not expected.

She shook her head at the amount. He’d probably mortgaged the house for this amount of cash. She skimmed the letter outlining the divorce agreement and terms of settlement.

“
Oh, Michael
,” Carrie said, shaking her head and wanting to laugh at his grand gesture to her.

“Are those—,” John began.

“Divorce papers? Yes,” Carrie said, not flinching. “They are.”

“I’m sorry, Carrie,” John said.

“Why?” Carrie asked. “I’m not getting divorced. I may take the money though and open an art gallery with it.”

John walked to the edge of the desk. His eyebrows shot up as he saw the six figures on the check. “Larson must either love you madly or you’re the most shrewd married woman on earth. You haven’t even been married two weeks yet and you’re getting a triple digit settlement?”

“I’m pretty sure he loves me madly,” Carrie said, leaning back in her chair. “If I open my gallery, can I come back and talk to you about a deal? A contract with your company would go a long way toward me securing a bank loan.”