Expedition of Love (34 page)

There were several photographic expeditions she enjoyed. Well, they had been pleasant.

Her time in college had been nice. No, that wasn't right either. It had been interesting and often intriguing, but not a moment of complete joy.

She sighed and propped her chin in her hand. “Happy,” she whispered. When had she ever really been happy?

A faded image of a hot summer day when her parents had taken her to the zoo skittered across her mind. She smiled as the memory came into focus, warming her heart. She'd been happy then, but her mother was gone now. Her smile faded as her chest constricted. Would she erase that happy summer day to remove the pain?

No, she wouldn't. It was too precious a memory, one she would carry cradled in her heart forever.

Tears slipped unbidden from her eyes and slid down her cheeks. She shouldn't cry. There was no reason to cry.

A pristine white handkerchief appeared in front of her, and her breath caught in her throat. Stephen always carried a perfectly folded white handkerchief in his pocket. She took the cloth, and with a small smile, wiped away her tears. Gradually, her smile turned into a giggle, which turned into all out laughter.

"Now that's what I like to hear,” her father said as he chuckled with her. “Care to share what has driven away those dreadful tears and brought about such a wonderful sound?"

"A happy memory, Papa. A very happy memory.” The moment his handkerchief appeared in front of her, her heart leapt, her pulse raced, and she felt happier than she'd felt in weeks. In her life, and all because she remembered a caring man with a soft, perfectly clean, neatly folded handkerchief.

A man she loved.

Stephen had said he wouldn't trade their time together, even though she refused to give him her heart. Even when he professed his feelings knowing she couldn't return them, he still loved her.

Oh, what a fool she'd been. Barreling through life without a thought to where she was going, and going through it alone. She'd been content, for the most part. She enjoyed her career, but she didn't really wish to be the greatest photographer in the world. She simply liked taking pictures. Pictures of life as it happened. Life that constantly buzzed around her while she refused to take part. Always in a hurry, always alone, except when she was with her father. Then she felt better. He gave her a small piece of solid ground to stand on. He was her only connection with life, but it was time for more. It was time to stop running.

With all her logic and reasoning, not once had she devised the truth. Antonio tried to tell her, her father tried to tell her, but she wouldn't listen. She
was
a stubborn, pigheaded female, she thought with a giggle.

"Papa, we're going to wait for Stephen to recover before leaving Argentina, are we not?"

"Of course. I've already informed him. I wouldn't dream of leaving the boy behind. This is his expedition. I'll cover any and all costs over the allotted budget. Leave Stephen behind? Preposterous!"

She laughed at his bluster.

He looked at her quizzically, almost warily. “Why do you ask? Have you made some momentous decision you would like to share?"

"I'm afraid it's rather unconventional."

He smiled. “I wouldn't expect anything less from my daughter."

Chapter Nineteen

The children gathered around Stephen to hear yet another tale about dinosaurs. Although his Spanish left much to be desired, they seemed to understand enough and follow along.

He'd never had much to do with children before, his students always being of college age. At first he feared they would be completely bored with his talk of fossils, but they were enthralled to learn more about the creatures that once lived upon the earth so many years ago.

In the beginning he tried to explain the theories regarding dinosaurs, but quickly realized that the children were more interested in how they looked. With a pencil and his sketchpad that Mr. Thomas and Mr. Anderson had brought him the week before on one of their visits, he drew a picture of an armored plant-eater called a Hylaeosaurus. A sea of widened eyes full of wonder stared up at him.

As he looked from one bright, shining face to the other, his heart grew heavy. Was Kristina carrying his child? Would he be a father this time next year? He sighed softly and returned to his drawing. He shouldn't have made love to her again, more than doubling the chance, but he was a weak-minded fool where she was concerned.

If only she could accept his love without fear of repression, without believing that he would quash her vibrant spirit and treat her as an object or possession. Knowing Edwin as he did, he knew his friend could never have treated his wife in such a manner. Kristina had to have witnessed, first hand, the way marriage was meant to be, but fear easily blinded a person to the truth.

He too refused to face the truth. His heart continued to hope that she could love him, although his mind argued that she could not. He would always be the walking dictionary, the boring scientist who spent his days studying dry old bones. He was relieved to learn from his assistants that she hadn't left Argentina and had been assisting them at the site. Although, he felt sure it was her sense of duty to the team that kept her there, and nothing to do with him.

A nun came into the children's ward and called an end to their visit. This was the last time he would see them, his recuperation complete after suffering nearly two weeks in bed. At any moment, Edwin and the others would arrive to take him to the steamboat waiting on the Rio Negro. The next few weeks would be the most difficult for him, seeing her, being near her, but at least he would have his work to fill the void, however inadequately.

Stephen received hugs and tender goodbyes from his avid followers, but many of their faces focused behind him. Somehow he knew before turning who was there. He could feel her seeping into his soul, whispering to his hopeful heart.

He slowly turned around. His pulse jumped as he took in the sight of her yellow and black striped dress, her Boater hat perched atop her silken tresses. He begged heaven to help him keep his arms at his sides.

She cast him a small smile, and he noticed her hands fisted tightly together. Why was she so nervous?

"I see you've made some friends,” she said.

"One of the nuns happened to see my sketches and asked if I would show the children. It would seem that dinosaurs are fascinating to all ages and not just boring old scientists like me."

"You're not a boring old scientist,” she snapped, then reddened with her outburst.

The tiny glint of hope in his heart grew another inch, but he wished it would stop. Regardless of whether or not she believed him to be a dull and boring man, did not affect her view of marriage. Matrimony was not on her agenda. To him or any man.

The nun shooed the children back to their beds, and he made a few more hasty farewells. Turning back to Kristina, he stopped short of taking her arm and escorting her from the room. Her deep brown eyes, filled with some unidentifiable emotion, searched and observed the children as they climbed back into their beds. Was she thinking about the possibility of their child? Did she already know if one existed?

Unable to bear the unanswered question any longer he started to speak. “Kristina, I have to know—"

"Stephen, I have to tell you—"

They both chuckled nervously.

"Ladies first,” he said with a bow of his head.

Her quivering smile sent waves of anxious energy through his veins. What could she possibly have to say that turned the strong, determined woman he knew her to be, into a trembling, apprehensive bundle of satin and lace?

Her eyes, tinged with an odd sadness, scanned the tiny faces once again. “I'm not with child,” she said softly.

His heart dropped with disappointment. Although it was for the best, her expression struck something in him. Could it be that she wasn't relieved? Could she have actually wanted a child? His child?

"Kristina, I—"

"Wait. There's something else I have to say. When I—when you—” Her face scrunched up with frustration, and the woman he knew so well rose to the surface. “Oh, bother. I'm rather new at this, so you must forgive me if I don't do this properly.” Taking a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin, then stared pointedly into his eyes. “I think we should marry,” she said with a definitive nod.

His mouth fell open and breathing became difficult. The children, who apparently knew more English than he'd given them credit for, giggled. He quickly shuffled her into a corner behind a changing screen. Not complete privacy, but better than none at all.

Her eyes darted from side to side and her chin dropped to her chest. “Um, if you'd rather not, I'll understand. I've behaved rather poorly on this expedition. And where our relationship is concerned. I wouldn't blame you if you'd prefer to never see me again."

Stephen shook his head in amazement as she rambled on. The woman was a marvel. As intelligent as he knew her to be, he couldn't believe she actually thought he wouldn't want her anymore. As if he could simply decide not to love her.

Reaching out, he took one of her shaking hands in his. With the possibility of a child no longer a valid reason, he had to know why she'd changed her mind. “Why? Why do you think we should marry?"

Lifting her face, she swallowed hard, and tears pooled in her eyes. “Because you're worth more than the pain,” she whispered. “No matter how fast and hard I run, you'll always be a part of me, the part that makes me complete. I love you."

Stunned for a fraction of a second as his brain absorbed the most wonderful words he had ever heard, his entire being was overwhelmed with immense joy. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, putting all his love, all his promises for their future into that single kiss.

Hearing Edwin's deep heartfelt chuckle, he reluctantly pulled his lips from hers.

"It's about time, my boy,” Edwin said with a slap on his back. “I've been itching to give my daughter away for some time."

"Papa!"

He grinned sheepishly. “You know what I mean. I want those grandchildren."

She pressed her face against Stephen's chest. The color staining her cheeks was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Tightening his arms around her, he pressed his lips to her temple, relishing the smell of her hair and the delicate trembling of her body.

"What say we go and celebrate?” Edwin suggested, then strolled out of the room.

After a wave to the children, Stephen guided his blushing love through the door, his arm still wrapped around her waist. When he'd awakened that morning, as the many mornings before, he thought his life would be cold and empty. Now, with Kristina by his side, he knew each day would be more full than he ever thought possible.

"You, um, haven't exactly said yes to my proposal,” she said.

He smiled as they followed Edwin down the corridor and out of the hospital. Should he let her squirm for a bit, or tell her how she wouldn't be able to get away from him ever again?

"Stephen?"

They stopped beside the wagon as Edwin climbed up on to the seat. Stephen looked down at her worried frown. No, he couldn't tease her, not when he wanted her, loved her so much.

Cupping her cheek, he said, “I need you more than my next breath. I will never let you go again."

A bright smile spread across her lips. “Is that a yes?"

He chuckled. “Most definitely, but when we become man and wife, we will be equal partners in this marriage. I won't have it any other way. I will never treat you like a possession. You are far too precious to me. There simply aren't enough words to express how I feel about you. I love you."

"And I love you,” she said. “So very much."

He knew how difficult it had been for her to say the words, to allow her heart to feel, and he loved her all the more for it.

Smiling, he pressed his lips to hers in a gentle kiss, but the tenderness didn't last long. Passion flared to life, and the connection grew into much more than was appropriate in public.

Edwin cleared his throat several times, but they ignored him. “Hmm, I think the sooner you two get married the better. Perhaps in Viedma,” he said. “I don't relish the idea of playing chaperone for the next two weeks aboard ship."

Slowly ending one of the sweetest, happiest moments of his life, Stephen turned to his friend with his betrothed wrapped in his arms. “I quite agree, Edwin."

Kristina stiffened. “What? Get married here? In Argentina?"

Stephen looked at her face, taut with worry. Did the idea of marriage still frighten her so much? Although it nearly killed him, he had to ask. “Would you rather wait?"

Her hands still resting against his chest, she picked nervously at his lapel. “Well, no. But I haven't the proper dress, I don't have a maid of honor, and none of our friends are here.” Her voice trailed off to a faint whispered tremor. So very unlike her. She had to be more than merely displaced by her father's suggestion.

He gently tilted her chin up. “Tell me, love. What is really worrying you?"

"Well—your family might not approve of me and my—my unconventional behavior. They might think I'm rather awful, then you'd be stuck with me, and I—"

Stephen silenced her with a kiss. Holding her tightly, he pressed his cheek to hers and spoke softly in her ear. “Nothing and no one will stop me from becoming the happiest man alive. And I'm quite sure they will love you as I do."

She relaxed in his arms, but he pulled back a bit, as another impedance came to mind. “But perhaps your friends won't approve of me. I'm not exactly the type of man one would expect a lady of your caliber and beauty to marry. I'd rather study fossils than attend the opera. I'm just a lowly scientist, a rather dull one at that, with very little to offer."

She lifted her arms and clasped her hands around his neck. “Doctor Baxter, if I hear you utter one more word or insinuation of that kind again, I'll take back my proposal of marriage."

"Kristina Peterson, don't you dare,” her father bellowed.

She cut her eyes at her father with a mischievous grin. “Very well, Papa. I won't take back my proposal.” She looked back at Stephen and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I'll tell everyone in New York what a wicked secret life you lead, and how you seduced me beneath an Argentinean moon."