Million Dollar Marriage (12 page)

Mary Ellen nodded. “Then she knows your reasons for marrying her?” She searched Holden’s
face, but he didn’t admit or deny a thing. “Well, that’s a relief. At least you didn’t
deceive her into this. I assume she had her reasons for agreeing, though I can’t imagine
why a woman like Lucy would marry for anything less than love.”

She waited, brows lifted high.

Holden hated the way she had of getting to him, making him spill his guts when he
had no intention of doing so. “She needs funding for an obstetrical clinic to care
for low income women.”

“I see.”

She was looking at him again. Just looking at him.

“Look, I’m not going to let her get hurt in this thing. I’m well aware she’s not the
kind of woman I have any business being with, and—”

“She’s exactly the kind of woman you should be with, Holden.”

He blinked, scratched his head, and looked at his mother. “What?”

“She’s perfect for you. A lady, Holden, a far cry from the trollops you’ve been dating
as you continue on this endless search of yours for…for whatever it is you’ve been
trying to find. Don’t you see?”

Slowly, Holden shook his head. “No. No, I don’t see. Look, I’m like my father. You
know that. I’m a no-good—”

“Be careful, son. I loved your father.”

“And suffered your whole life because of it. You think I’d put Lucy through that kind
of hell?”

“No. You wouldn’t.”

“Damn right, I wouldn’t. She’s special, Mom. She’s…she’s good and she’s clean and
she’s…she’s like you. She reminds me of you.”

Mary Ellen bit her lower lip, and her eyes began to water.

“Oh, come on. Don’t…” Holden got up, went around the table, and hugged his mother
gently. “Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“Then don’t say such sweet things to me, son.” Lifting her head from his shoulder,
she looked him hard in the eyes. “You’re nothing like your father, Holden. I know.
I lived with the man, and I’ve raised you. I know you as well as I knew him, inside
and out, and I am telling you, you’re
not
like him. You’re afraid you are, you believe you are…but you’re not.”

He sighed deeply. “Hell, I wish I could believe that.” He straightened away from her,
returned to his seat, picked up his cup and sipped his coffee.

“I remember when you were in high school. You talked about Lucinda once or twice.
I remember the
way you looked whenever her name came up. Like a child longing for a candy that was
up high, on a shelf he couldn’t reach. I knew then that she was special to you.”

“No, Mom, I think you’re letting your imagination run a little bit wild on you.”

“You fell in love with her way back then, didn’t you, Holden? But you convinced yourself
you weren’t good enough for her. Didn’t you?”

He shook his head, denying every word of it, but his gut ached and his chest felt
tight.

“If Lucy had asked you to fund that clinic,” his mother went on, “would you have agreed
to it? Even without this…this marriage agreement?”

Meeting her steady gaze, he nodded.

“And don’t you think she knew that?”

“No. She seems to be amazed every time I do anything even the slightest bit decent
for her. I’m sure she never would have thought I might back her clinic without getting
something for myself in return.”

Mary Ellen frowned. “I think you’re underestimating her. She’s a smart woman, Holden.
Sharp. I think she could have asked you for that money, and had it. And I know she
could have asked Ryan, or Matthew and Claudia, or even me, and we’d have helped her
fund this thing. And I think she knows it.”

Holden set his cup down carefully. “So what are you getting at?”

“She married you, Holden. But not because she had to. She could have had her clinic
without resorting to such drastic measures. So, logic would dictate, she must have
had some other reasons for agreeing to such an outrageous proposal.”

His mind was filling with questions. Thanks to his mother. God, this had all been
so simple before. Now it was getting more complicated by the minute. “What other reasons
could she possibly have had?”

His mother shrugged. “Maybe, Holden…she loves you, too?”

“Now wait a minute!” Holden was on his feet again. He stood so fast he sloshed coffee
on his hand, and then he slammed the cup down and sloshed some more. “That’s ridiculous.
She knows me, she knows what I’m like. Hell, after what I put her through in high
school, she all but hated my guts. No, Mom, there’s no way in hell—”

“What you put her through in high school?” his mother asked, her delicate brows lifting
as she took a sip of her favorite tea. Chamomile. Must be her secret for always being
so calm, so cool, so damned poised.

“Never mind. That doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, everything matters, dear.”

“No, it doesn’t.” He paced away, paced back again, shoved a hand through his hair.
“She’s not in love with me. She’s not going to fall in love with me. She’s going to
be my wife, on paper, for a year, and then she’s going to take her money and leave.”

Mary Ellen set her china cup onto her saucer with a deliberate precision, got slowly,
gracefully, to her feet, and folded her arms over her chest. “Holden.”

He stopped pacing, turned to face her.

“I like her. She fits in this family. She is
exactly
what you need. And she is most certainly staying.”

Holden felt under attack. His brows went up. “What do you mean, she’s staying? Look,
she and I made an agreement and—”

“You love her, Holden.”

“I don’t—”

“You love her.”

“I’m fond of her, yeah, but I don’t—”

“Holden, darling, stop fighting so hard. Listen to your heart, not your head. You’re
in love with the girl. Now get over yourself, swallow your pride, and set about making
sure she feels the same.”

Holden closed his eyes and sank into his chair, feeling as if his legs had turned
to jelly.

“And, Holden?”

“What?”

“That’s an order, sweetie.”

He opened his eyes. His mother sent him a sly wink across the table, an encouraging
smile, then she got to her feet and left him alone.

“She’s wrong.” Holden looked at his coffee, but didn’t drink it. It didn’t hold any
appeal all of a sudden. “She’s dead wrong,” he told the cup. “I don’t love her. For
God’s sake, if I loved her I wouldn’t have told her at least a dozen times that I
didn’t, that I never would, that things between us were going to be totally unemotional.
Would I?”

The coffee cup didn’t answer. Instead, the brew inside gleamed with a reflection of
his own stunned, stricken face, and mocked him with it.

“Oh, hell,” he whispered. “I think I love her.”

Gina Gonzales stood arm in arm with her husband, her palm pressed to the glass, her
face damp with tears, when Lucy came up beside her. She looked in at the row of pink-skinned
newborns in their plastic bassinets, and past them, at the incubator that held
Gina’s premature daughter and the tubing running from the newborn’s IV pole to her
body. So tiny. So fragile.

Lucy put a hand on Gina’s shoulder. “Her doctor says she’s doing better today.”

Gina nodded, her eyes never leaving her child. “
Sí.
He told me so this morning. But still, she is so little, compared to the others.”

“She’ll grow, Gina.”

Gina nodded.

“Have you named her?”

A slight smile, and Gina managed to glance Lucy’s way for a moment. “She is named
for you, Lucinda.”

“Oh my….” Lucy was so touched she didn’t know what to say. “Thank you. I’m honored.”

The child’s father nodded firmly. “She is strong. She will be well.”

“Yes, she will,” Lucy agreed. “Gina, I wanted to talk to you. You can go home today.”

Gina’s eyes widened as she turned to face Lucy fully for the first time. “Without
my baby?”

Lowering her head, Lucy said, “She needs to stay. It’s for her own good, Gina. She
needs to be stronger before we can let you take her home.”

“But I cannot leave her!” She turned to her husband and he put his arms around her,
held her close.

“Dr. Brightwater, you cannot make my Gina leave our baby behind. I will find some
way to pay you, but I—”

“No. No, wait a minute. You both misunderstand me completely. Listen, come and sit
down, let me try to explain.”

Reluctantly, the couple let her lead them down the
hall and into her office. She poured coffee for them from the pot she kept in the
corner, handed them each a cup, then perched on the edge of her desk.

“Now, first things first. Gina, you are well, healthy and strong. I couldn’t keep
you here even if you were a millionaire. It has nothing to do with your income, only
with the fact that I can’t fill hospital beds with healthy people when there are so
many others who need them. Other women, having babies, who need to rest and recover
afterward. You wouldn’t want me to have to turn them away, just so you could use a
hospital bed you don’t need, now would you?”

Blinking her eyes dry, Gina shook her head.

“You can see your baby as much as you want. Stay with her all day every day if you
want to. No one is going to restrict your visits.”

Lowering her head, Gina said, “But I cannot. We live on the other side of town, Dr.
Brightwater. There is only the pickup. Miguel needs it to work and—”

“Then stay here, near the hospital. There are motels and—” As soon as Gina’s eyes
met her husband’s, Lucy knew she was way off base. They couldn’t afford that, either.
She pressed her lips together. Getting personally involved was a big no-no, but in
this case…

“How long will little Lucinda have to be here?” Miguel asked.

Lucy shook her head. “It depends on how she does. But it’s going to be at least another
week. Possibly two.”

Gina lowered her head and sobbed softly. Miguel looked pained, and pale. “How will
we ever pay for this?” he muttered.

“We have programs, financial assistance for low
income families.” Lucy got up, turned to rummage through the mess on her desk for
the applications. She finally found them and handed them to Miguel.

He only held up a hand and shook his head. “I have seen these before. I make more
at my job than those papers say I can make. We do not qualify for this assistance
of which you speak.”

“I was afraid of that.” Lucy lowered her head, shaking it slowly. It was a trap she’d
seen all too often. Patients without insurance, their meager income a bit too high
to qualify them for aid, a shade above abject poverty. But that was still too little
to give them any hope of paying their hospital bills. She knew this baby’s hospital
stay could spell financial ruin for its family.

“All right. Listen, I can help you with part of your problem.” She went around her
desk, opened the big bottom drawer, and pulled out her purse. Then she extracted a
set of keys, took one off the ring and, carrying it to Gina, pressed it into her hand.
“I have an apartment, not far from here. Actually, it’s within walking distance.”

Gina frowned, looking confused.

“I…just got married, and I’m living in my husband’s home now. There’s no reason you
can’t use the apartment until the baby is released. All right?”

The two looked at each other, eyes widening. “You…you would do that for us?”

Lucy smiled and went back to her desk, grabbing a pen and a notepad. “Here’s the address,”
she said. “It’s not hard to find. Go to the end of this street and turn right. Second
building on the left. Apartment
10-C. Okay?” She tore off the sheet and handed it to them.

Gina took it in a trembling hand. Then she came around the desk and enfolded Lucy
in a hug. “God bless you, Dr. Brightwater.”

Lucy smiled and hugged her back. “Now, why don’t you go back to your room and get
dressed while I get your release forms in order, hmm?”

“
Sí, sí.
I will. Thank you.”

The two got up, looking at least a bit more hopeful than before, and hurried out of
her office. And Lucy stood in the doorway, watching them. It felt good to have brightened
their lives just a little bit. But there was so much more they needed…so much more
so many families on the far side of town needed. And a week or two in her apartment
wasn’t going to make a hell of a lot of difference in the long run.

She sighed, and turned to go back into her office.

“Lucy?”

Looking up, she saw Holden coming toward her, a bag in his hands. And she smiled a
welcome in spite of herself. “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be at the office or something?”

He shook his head. “Executives get to take long lunches when they want to.” He held
up the bag. “Doctors don’t, though, but I thought you might be able to tear yourself
away long enough for some takeout.”

“You’re a mind reader. I was just debating whether to go hungry or brave the hospital
cafeteria.”

“Guess that makes me your knight in shining armor, then.”

She stepped aside and waved him into the office.
He set the bag on the clean spot at the edge of her desk, then quickly scooped her
papers and folders into neat stacks and set them out of the way. Lucy stood back,
arms folded over her chest, watching him. “You’re good at this.”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet, Doc.” Holden opened the bag and produced a tiny bud vase
with a single white rose in it. Lucy’s brows went up. “Leftover from last night’s
festivities,” he said, setting the little flower in the middle of her desk. Then he
tugged containers of food out of the bag, placing them on the desk one by one, followed
by paper napkins, plastic eating utensils, and a pair of paper cups with covers firmly
in place. Finally, he pulled two chairs up close to the desk, held the back of one,
and said, “Your table is ready, Dr. Fortune.”

She shook her head, and took her seat. “You don’t do anything small, do you, Holden?”

“Hardly ever.” He took his own seat.

Lucy opened the lid on her cup and saw whipped cream dusted in what smelled like cinnamon.
“Cappuccino?” Curious, she lifted the lids on the containers of food. She’d been thinking
burgers and fries, but suddenly she doubted that was the case.