Guarding Miranda (37 page)

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Authors: Amanda M. Holt

BOOK: Guarding Miranda
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“Thank you very much, Dr. Morgan, for your time.  I’ll be in touch.”

All the way from Waterhen, Manitoba, Canada
, she silently added.

Pregnant
!

It was with a great sinking feeling in her heart that she knew – just knew – she could not tell Brian.

No macho man in the world wanted to hear that he had knocked up the chick that he was seeing. As much as she loved Brian, he was more made of testosterone than parenting material.

She knew that she had a lifetime of difficulty ahead of her, as a single mother. 

Knew because the world was full of single moms.

She ran her hand over the gentle slope of her abdomen.

Regardless, she was keeping the baby. 

For better or for worse.

                                                            *          *          *

Brian looked at the dainty antique engagement ring one more time. 

He was parked outside Fifteen Micmac Crescent, trying to get the words right in his head before putting them to his tongue. 

He supposed he could do it best by taking Miranda out to supper, wining and dining her and maybe – just maybe – if the time and setting was just right, just perfect, he would pop the question. 

Thee question...

“Miranda Logan.” It sounded good to his ears. “Mrs. Miranda Logan.”

He closed the small velvet lined box with resolve and tucked it into the pocket of his sports coat. 

Without further ado, he left the comfort of his blue Nissan Pathfinder, sauntered down the sidewalk and up the stairs to the Gundy residence. 

He rang the buzzer and waited to be greeted.

The front door cracked open and Lynn’s red head popped through the opening. “Brian, hi.”

“H’lo Lynn.” He looked past her, trying to catch a glimpse of his love. “Is Miranda home?”

An anxious look crossed the university student’s face.

She blurted in a rush: “Miranda said I’m not supposed to tell you this but she doesn’t know what she’s doing anyway and her plan is so stupid and she’s scared shitless and-” She acknowledged the fearful look on his face. “You love her, don’t you?”

“I do,” he said impatiently, sensing that something was wrong. Really wrong. “Now what is it that you aren’t supposed to tell me?”

Lynn sighed, as though weighing the unsaid threat of his words against those of her cousin. 

Brian knew that he must have won that small battle, because Lynn blabbed, “She’s gone back to Waterhen.  Left for her flight a half hour ago.  If you hurry, you should be able to catch her.”

He was already running back to his SUV when he heard her shout, “
Westjet Airlines! The six forty-five flight to Winnipeg!

“Thanks Lynn!” He yelled back from the seat of the Pathfinder. “I owe you one!” 

He couldn’t seem to get to the airport fast enough...

                                                            *          *          *

“Thank you.  This aisle seat will be fine.”

Miranda’s head jerked up. 

Now she was hearing Brian’s voice everywhere. 

Not only in her thoughts but now, on her airplane as well. 

She looked in the direction of the voice and her jaw dropped. 

Stormy grey eyes were looking back at her with undivided attention.

“G’day love.  Miss me?”

“Brian!”

“In the flesh,” he replied with a wink.

 “What are you doing here?”

He gazed at her intently. “Trying to find out why you’d leave me without saying a word of good-bye or good riddance.”

“I’m going back to Waterhen, Brian,” she vowed strongly. “And you can’t stop me.”

“Why?”

“I have my reasons.”

“Your stubborn streak is showing.”

“So it is.”

“I’m not here to stop you, love.” He assumed a more comfortable position in his seat. “I’m here to join you.”

Her brow furrowed. “Why?”

“Why?  Because I love you but you already know that.  Because I’ve come to realize that home for me is wherever you are, Miranda.  Without you, without your love, I have no home to go to.”

Sudden tears came to her eyes. 

He said he loves me, sure
, she thought glumly as she wiped her tears with the back of her sleeve,
but will it be enough? Words are easy but words won’t ensure late night feedings and diaper changes, now will they?

The elderly woman sitting in the aisle seat next to Miranda shifted uneasily.

“I’ll gladly trade seats with him if you like, dear?” The woman offered.

“No, please don’t-”

“Please do,” Brian interrupted her, rising from his seat.

Miranda’s green eyes pleaded with the woman, as did her tone. “No, don’t-”

“Oh no, dear, forgive me but I must.” The lady was already rising from her seat. “You don’t get to be my age without learning a few things.  Like never to get in the way of true love.”

“Thank you.” Brian stepped back to let the woman sit first. 

Soon, his formidable weight was shifting the mechanisms of the seat next to Miranda. 

Her senses reeled at his nearness.

“Now explain to me why you’re running off to Canada without saying good-bye?”

She shrank in her seat.

She felt dwarfed by his presence.

The stewardess was preparing to do safety checks which meant the airplane was due to take off any minute now.

She still had time to escape…

“Miranda, I deserve to know the reason.”

“No reason,” she lied, weakly.

“You’re a crappy liar, Miranda. I know I mean enough to you to warrant a goodbye. If not a damned invitation to join you, then certainly an
adieu
.”

She sighed and it was a heavily burdened sound. “Can’t you just know that it is a good reason and leave it at that?”

“No.” His hand covered hers and brought it to his mouth. 

She didn’t resist his gesture of affection, because to resist him would have taken more strength than she even possessed.

“Why are you torturing me?” she whispered, angrily.

“Why are you,” he inquired, “Torturing me?”

It was time to tell him. 

Nothing else she could say would surely send him running faster in the opposite direction, right off of the airplane.

She leaned in close to him and breathed, “I’m pregnant.”

“What?” The alarm in his voice was as real as the awe in his stormy grey eyes.

“With
our
child, obviously.  Say what you will, but I’m keeping the baby, so go ahead and leave.” She crossed her arms and tried to set her mouth into a firm line even though her lips were trembling. “I won’t make a move to stop you.”

“Leave?” He was as shocked as he was overjoyed by her comment. 
Pregnant
! Had he heard her right? “Why would I want to do that?”

Her green eyed gaze rolled skyward. “I told you why.  I’m pregnant.”

“Then we’re very lucky parents, Miranda.” He kissed her and she could not resist him.  His mouth tore away from hers, so that he could look at her with honest gratitude. “This blows my mind!  This is the happiest moment of my life!”

Miranda looked at him, dumbfounded. 

“Obviously this was not the reaction you had been expecting, hmm love?”

“It’s kind of the complete opposite of what I had been expecting.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “You watch too much reality TV! Real men don’t just accept responsibilities like this, they celebrate them.” He kissed the back of her hand. “With a single word you’ve given me a gift that no one else in life has ever given me. Pregnant. We’re pregnant!”

“You’re …happy about it?” The emotions rushing through her were making her head spin.

“Why wouldn’t I be?  You completed my life with a single word: pregnant.”

He fumbled in his sports coat pocket for something she could not see.

“Miranda, I wanted everything to be perfect when I did this.  I wanted a five star restaurant where we’d enjoy the most tender filet mignon done perfectly medium rare and chilled Cristal champagne in long stemmed flutes while some music student or another played Chopin on the violin.” He reached out toward her, something concealed in his huge grip. “But this will have to do. And I really must say, the timing is perfect. No time like the present, as Aunt Bernie would say.”

He opened the velvet lined box that had been hidden in his large hand. 

His steel grey eyes sought and held hers, as sparkling with light as the dainty pre-war diamond he had revealed.

“Miranda Fowler, will you marry me?”

“Marry you?” She had difficulty swallowing.

“Yes.”

“But-”

“No buts, Miranda.” His mouth was set in a firm, serious line. “Will you marry me?”

She didn’t have to consider it the second time.

With a throat that had suddenly gone dry, she somehow found the voice to speak.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” He wasn’t letting her off the hook
that
easily. “I want to hear the words, Miranda. Yes what?”


Yes, I’ll marry you
!” She outstretched her left hand and Brian took the small ring, slid it easily unto her finger.

“It’s a bit big, isn’t it?” His glance was apologetic. “The ring?”

“It’ll fit soon enough.” She laughed as she kissed him, tears of joy salting their lips. “I’m told a pregnant woman tends to swell a bit, even in the fingers.”

“I can’t wait to see you all plump and glowing with our child.”

“Will you still love me when I’m fat and stretch marked?”

“You know that I will.” There was such a promise of love in his kiss, when his lips brushed hers, that another hot wash of tears came to mist her vision. “I’ll be the best husband you could ever want, my love and the best father our son or daughter could have.”

Miranda was silent for a long moment. “What do you think of B.J, Brian Junior, if it’s a boy?”

His hand reverently brushed her flat stomach. “You think it’s going to be a boy?”

“I think it’s just in the stage of being a funny little tadpole-like life form just now.”

“I’ve always liked Heloise, for a girl,” said Brian, squeezing her hand in support.

Miranda wrinkled her nose. “Heloise?”

“What’s wrong with Heloise?”

“I was thinking maybe Mary-Margaret...”

“Mary-Margaret!” Brian teased: “Sounds like a nun’s name. The kids will call her Sister Mary-Margaret.”

Miranda admired the modest diamond on her hand.  Like his love for her, it would surely last forever.

“Well, we have a good eight months to think of a name.”

“And if it’s twins?”

“Twins?”
She laughed. “What makes you think it would be
twins
?”

“My mother and my Aunt Bernie were twins.” He explained. “It skips a generation in my family.”

 “Then maybe we’ll be twice as lucky.” Miranda decided, knowing that she loved Brian more than she had ever thought it possible to love someone.

Especially if that someone was a muscle-bound Aussie who got his jollies stealing kisses and car keys from women accustomed to their independence.

“Maybe Bernard, for a boy?” Brian suggested.

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