Miracle in the Mist (31 page)

Meghan's voice drew Carrie out of her thoughts. "What about Frank? I love him, Meghan, God knows I love him." Her hand automatically went to her stomach. "He doesn't even know about—"

"The baby?"

She nodded.

"Then you have to tell him."

Carrie felt as though a hand had reached inside her and was twisting her insides into knots. The pain was unbearable. A soft sob escaped her.

She loved Frank so much. But what if Frank
was
like her father? What if he appeared to be the angel she needed in her life, but turned out to be evil in disguise? She didn't want to expose her baby to that. Once she told him about the child, there would be no turning back. He'd be a part of its life forever. Did she want to take that chance?

"Carrie?" Meghan touched her hand lightly. "Think about the man you know and love. Do you really believe him to be evil?"

Forced to think about it by Meghan's words, Carrie remembered the times she'd been with Frank. She recalled the gentle man who had listened to her wild tales of a dream man she couldn't identify. She recalled the night he'd welcomed her into his arms to soothe her ragged nerves about a nightmare that had terrified her. The same man who had comforted her and never asked for more. The man who had held her so tightly because he had to leave the village without her. The man who was willing to give up his life in the outside world, a life he loved, to be with her forever.

But mostly, she remembered the man who had made gentle, passionate love to her at the waterfall. The man who had guided her up the cliffs and rejoiced in her being able to go the last few feet on her own because she'd conquered her fear of heights. Logically, she could never see this man doing the things to her that Dan had done to Cathy or that her father had done to his family. But she was sure that both Cathy and her mother had felt the men they married would never use them as a punching bag.

"I don't know," she finally cried. "I just don't know." Laying her head on her folded arms, she sobbed out her frustration.

Faith and trust, Carrie. Faith and trust
.

Emanuel's words filled her head. Suddenly the fear, confusion, and apprehension that had claimed her mind and body lessened. The cloying fog cleared from her reasoning.

All these people—Emanuel, Clara, Meghan, Steve—they all knew Frank. If they felt he was a good man, could she do any less? He saved children on a daily basis. Why would he hurt their child? And hadn't he promised to protect her forever?

She raised her tear-stained face and looked at Meghan. To her surprise, Millie was sitting in the seat beside Meghan. Only it wasn't Millie anymore. Oh, she still wore that uniform with the ridiculous handkerchief spilling from the pocket and the name badge, but the face of the waitress was gone. In its place was Clara's grandmotherly countenance.

"Go to him, child. Tell him about the baby. Trust his love for you and yours for him."

"Love is a miracle with a power you cannot even imagine. Give it a chance to work its magic." Meghan rose and held out her hand.

What should she do? Carrie glanced toward the candle burning between them. The two flames flickered, twined around each other, and became one. She knew her answer.

Carrie nodded, rose from the booth, and took Meghan's outstretched hand. She offered both women a tentative smile, and then touched her tummy. "I think it's time you met your daddy, little one."

***

Frank awoke abruptly from the nap he'd fallen into in the chair beside Cathy's bed. Looking around, he found Steve gone. His gaze moved to the woman in the bed. She was asleep. The strident humming and beeping of the machines hooked up to her filled the silence of the room. Tubes ran from her swollen nose and an intravenous drip still ran from a bottle above the bed to her bruised, outstretched arm.

He looked out the window into a night lit only by a full moon and the streetlights in the hospital parking lot below. He checked his watch. 3:52 a.m.

His gaze returned to the battered woman who, aside from the blotches of bruises and the cuts on her face and neck, looked so colorless against the white sheets. He still couldn't believe the brutality she had endured and survived. From speaking to her doctor, Frank had learned that she had a broken nose, a fractured cheekbone, four cracked ribs, a long laceration on her forehead, and a bruised spleen. The X-rays they'd taken before surgery revealed innumerable bones that revealed old healed fractures from previous beatings. No wonder Carrie had chosen amnesia over the reality of knowing her sister was being used as a punching bag and being helpless to stop it.

He sat up in the chair, worked the kinks out of his body, and then leaned forward and buried his face in his hands. He missed Carrie so terribly. She'd become such a huge part of his life that he felt as if a gaping chasm had opened inside of him, a hollow place that could be filled with nothing but Carrie.

He could still see the look of horror on her face when she'd come upon him and Dan fighting. It had cut deep into his heart. Then the stark fear that replaced her horror as she'd backed away from him. He'd had to battle every bone in his body to keep from going after her. Logic had told him that was the worst thing he could do at that point. But that didn't stop the agony of knowing he'd frightened her, frightened the one person in the world whom he wanted to protect, to keep safe.

Didn't she know he'd sooner hurt himself than hurt her? That he'd protect her at all costs from anyone and everything?

When he became aware of someone else in the room, he'd been sorting through his jumbled thoughts for some time. He raised his head slowly. In the corner of the room, a shadow loomed.

His first reaction was to assume that Dan had somehow gotten away from the cops who had taken him into custody hours earlier. Then he realized that the silhouette was not that of a man.

The shadowy figure stepped into the meager light seeping in from the hallway. "We came to see you."

Carrie
!

Frank sprang from the chair. It took everything in him to keep from going to her and pulling her into the safety of his embrace. Fearful of scaring her again, he held himself back. Instead, he hoped he could reach out to her with his heart.

"I'm… I'm sorry about… before." His cracking voice sounded foreign to his ears.

"I know. I shouldn't have run, but I'd never seen you that angry before and… well… "

He gave a short, humorless laugh. "I don't think I've ever been that angry in my life." He ran his hand through his hair. His bruised knuckles throbbed, but he ignored the pain. "Carrie, I love you, and I would never, ever hurt you. Please believe that. I know those are only words, and that Dan probably said them to Cathy many times before… well before their marriage had turned to hell on earth." Frank extended a tentative hand toward her. "Please give me the chance to prove that I'm not Dan."

She smiled. "If I didn't believe that, I wouldn't be here."

Then, without another word, she walked into his arms. He pulled her to him. His heart raced. His knees wobbled beneath him. Carrie was home in his arms for good. Setting her back just enough, he covered her mouth with the gentlest kiss he could manage.

Carrie clung to him, and putting her hands behind his head, she gently pressured him to deepen the kiss. He obliged. Soon he was raining kisses all over her face.

"I love you," he murmured between each kiss. "Marry me so I never have to lose you again."

"I love you, too," she said, tucking his words deep in her heart. "And yes, I'll marry you." He began kissing her again. Suddenly, he stopped and looked around the room as if searching for something. "What is it?" Carrie asked.

An expression of confusion came over his face. "When you came in, you said we came to see you. Who else did you bring?"

She smiled. Taking his hand, she laid it over her flat stomach. "Your son or daughter," she said simply, watching the look of surprise, followed by elation spread over his face.

"You're… We're… "

Carrie laughed aloud. "Yes."

Frank scooped her into his arms and twirled her around in a circle. Then he quickly set her back on her feet. "How? I mean, I know how, but…
how
?"

Carrie opened her mouth to speak, but before she could speak a word, another voice gave him the only answer that mattered.

Faith and trust, my boy. Faith and trust make love, and deep and abiding love makes little miracles
.

Epilogue

Christmas Eve—The Gateway Cabin—Two years later

A freshly fallen snow from the night before glistened like tiny diamonds on the ground all around the Gateway Cabin. The lights of an enormous Christmas tree spilled out through a bay window onto the white covering, turning the icy crust brilliant with a rainbow of mixed colors. A curl of gray smoke spun off into the night from the chimney above the peaked roof. Excited voices of a happy family emanated from the interior and spilled out into the silent evening.

Even as Carrie stepped from the car, her arms loaded with gaily wrapped gifts, she could already detect the welcoming mixture of aromas: burning logs and fresh baked cookies. On the other side of the car, Frank unbuckled David's car seat.

"Come on, sport," he said as he hoisted his small son into his arms and sent Carrie a loving smile over the roof of the car. "I bet Aunt Meghan has some of her special sugar cookies waiting for you."

David cuddled into his father's neck and yawned sleepily.

Carrie returned Frank's smile, unable to believe that there had ever been a time when she had doubted Frank's gentleness.

The long hours of waiting for Cathy to recover in the hospital had been a time of renewal for Frank and Carrie, a time to open their hearts to each other. Frank had finally shared the details of the accident with her, and although it had been hard talking about it, she had shared her life with her father with him. The experience of sharing their pain had brought them closer together.

During the length of time they'd been married, she could not have asked for a more loving and considerate husband than Frank. Nor could eighteen-month-old David have wanted for a more attentive, adoring father. These had, indeed, been the happiest two years of her life.

Together, the little family trooped to the cabin's front door and knocked. Seconds later, the portal opened to reveal a grinning Meghan.

"Hi. Merry Christmas! Come on in out of the cold." She stepped aside to allow them entry. "We were afraid you'd been in an—" She cut herself short and sent Frank an apologetic smile.

He kissed her cheek and smiled down at her. "It's okay. I came to terms with that long ago, Meg."

She touched his sleeve and nodded, then took a suddenly fully-awake David from him and began to remove the child's winter clothing. When the boy had been divested of all his winter wear, she placed him in the playpen in the center of the room with their youngest daughter, Anna.

"Is Faith in the village?" Frank asked when he didn't see Steve and Meghan's six-year-old eldest daughter.

Steve scooped the gifts from Carrie's arms and deposited them beneath the shimmering tree in the large window. "Yes, with Irma. Just because Irma took over as the village Healer for Ellie doesn't mean she would allow her Christmas Eve tradition of decorating her tree with her granddaughter fall by the wayside." He straightened. "Because of the time thing within the village, she'll still be back here for Christmas morning. Speaking of time, did the bad driving conditions slow you down tonight?"

"No. We would have been here hours ago, but the first gallery showing of Carrie's masterpieces ran late. The people just didn't seem to want to leave." Frank gathered Carrie against his side, his face glowing with pride in his wife. "I guess I have to finally admit that I'm married to a female Rembrandt." He smiled down at her and kissed the tip of her nose. "And I couldn't be prouder."

Steve laughed. "Gee, Frank, one would never know."

Carrie giggled and then snuggled against Frank. Even since her paint box had mysteriously shown up in their car, Frank had been her biggest supporter, encouraging her to paint and then contacting a friend who was more than thrilled to promote the debut showing of her work.

"If Irma's taken over as the Healer in the village, where's Ellie now?" Carrie asked, taking a seat on the couch in front of the blazing fireplace.

Meghan settled next to her. "She's joined with Alvin as a Traveler." She chuckled. "They are inseparable." Her expression grew serious. "How's Cathy?"

Carrie beamed. "She's doing great. The therapy has helped enormously. Divorcing Dan helped a lot to push her along the road to healing. He's no longer in her life in any way, and it will be a long time before he can play the bully with another woman. She's even met a very nice man who adores the ground she walks on."

"Wonderful news." Steve came to join them. "How long was the jail term Dan got?"

It had taken over two years for Dan to come to trial. Thank God that in that time, the judge had refused to grant bail, so he spent the time awaiting his trial date behind bars. Last week, the trial finally ended, and that part of their lives was over for good.

"Let's just say, he will be spending many of his future Christmases looking through bars. The DA went for attempted murder, and once the jurors saw the pictures of Cathy's face and heard my testimony and Frank's, there was no trouble getting a guilty verdict."

Meghan rose and disappeared into the kitchen. Moments later she returned with a tray of her signature sugar cookies and hot chocolate crowned with peaks of white whipped cream.Carrie sipped the steaming, sweet liquid and remembered the night she'd first come to the cabin, lost, lonely, and terrified and without a memory to call her own. What a blessing that night had been. Without these people and Emanuel and Clara, she would have never gotten her sister away from that animal she'd married, and she'd never have known the blessings of being loved by a man who treated her with dignity, respect, and gentleness.