Straight from the Heart (19 page)

Now she knew how balloons felt when they were suddenly deflated, Rebecca thought as she drove slowly home. Tears trickled down her cheeks, but she paid no attention to them. She felt hollow and shriveled up inside—guilty because she hadn’t gone to Jace sooner, hurt because he hadn’t come to say good-bye.

Wearing one shoe with a heel and one without, Rebecca limped to the back door of her home. It didn’t surprise her in the least that she couldn’t get into the house. No one seemed to be home, and Hugh’s security system flatly refused to let her in, beeping at her angrily as she tried repeatedly to punch in the code she had memorized.

When she finally sat down on the step to cry, she felt like a complete and utter failure. Not only had she blown her chance with Jace, she couldn’t even manage to get inside her own house. Her father was angry with her, her son thought she was mean. She was neglecting her duties at the hospital, and she had ruined her best pair of shoes.

Sniffling, she leaned back against the locked door, drew her knees up, and arranged the skirt of her dress. Then she dug through her purse and pulled out the photograph Jace had sent her.

Love bears all things, believes all things, endures all things.

Maybe this had been his way of saying good-bye and telling her to remember him and to remember all the wonderful things they had shared. Or maybe he had meant it was a reminder of all the things she was turning her back on by not trusting him. Either way, just looking at the beautiful, peaceful scene made her ache with misery and longing and regret.

Her logic and intellect had gotten her nowhere. The high standards of conduct she had imposed on everyone had left her nothing but lonely. Now that it was too late, she realized love meant forgiveness and trust.

Her father’s words came back to her, more bitter when delivered by her own inner voice.
For someone so intelligent, you can be awfully stupid
.

Giving in to the need to feel sorry for herself, Rebecca crossed her arms over her drawn-up knees, put her head down, and sobbed. But even as she sobbed, her brain was making plans. She would have to go to Chicago and find Jace. If he wanted her to, she would stay with him. That would mean turning her patients over to Dominique and Max. She would have to take a leave of absence. She had responsibilities at the hospital, but they weren’t as important to her as her responsibilities to the man she loved. Jace needed her now.

She only hoped he would still want her, because she knew she would never feel complete without him.

“Becca?” a soft voice questioned. “Honey, don’t cry. I’ll let you in the house.”

Rebecca looked up, her watery gaze landing on Jace. Through her tears his image shimmered like a mirage. “Jace! What are you doing here?”

“I came to let you in,” he said. “I saw you from my window. Don’t feel bad, honey. Not everyone is mechanical.”

Pushing herself to her feet, she swiped at the tears that clung to her thick black lashes. “No,” she said in a voice rusty from crying. “I meant that I thought you’d left for Chicago. Turk sent me to the bus depot, but when I got there you were gone.”

Jace felt his insides go tense with anticipation. “Is that why you were crying?”

“Yes,” she whispered. And now she felt like crying again. Tears of relief brimmed and teetered on her eyelids. It wasn’t too late. She could still tell Jace how she felt about him—provided he wanted to hear it.

“I went to the depot to see Jerome Tarvin off,” Jace said. He went to the door and successfully operated the security system, opening the door as the green light on the box beamed and Rebecca’s recorded voice invited him inside. “He got a fulltime job as an Elvis impersonator in Reno.”

“How nice for him,” Rebecca murmured politely.

“Yeah,” Jace said, turning to face her once again. “He was a lousy shortstop, but he does a great Elvis.”

An awkward silence fell between them. Jace looked down and gently plucked the photograph from Rebecca’s fingers. He looked from it to her, waiting for her to say something, anything.

Rebecca took a deep breath and tried to swallow down the knot of fear in her throat. Once she dredged up the courage she needed, she decided not to mince words. She looked Jace square in the eye and said, “I love you. I believe in you.”

Tears of emotion flooded her eyes and her voice nearly failed her, but she went on, desperately needing to tell him what was in her heart, and even more desperately needing him to accept it. “I am so proud of you, of the way you’ve taken charge of your life, of the way you’ve fought to change. I never should have doubted you, Jace, but I was so afraid of getting hurt again.”

“You’re not afraid anymore?” he asked evenly.

A shiver chased over her skin even though it was a hot afternoon. Jace’s expression was guarded as he waited for her answer. The breeze ruffled his hair and swirled Rebecca’s skirt around her legs.

“Yes,” she said honestly. “I’m afraid. Afraid you won’t forgive me.”

For a moment Jace just stood there, afraid to move. If he moved, maybe he would break the spell and wake up alone in his bed and realize Rebecca’s words had been nothing more than a dream. When she reached out to touch his arm, his breath left him on a long sigh of relief. She was real, this was real.

Pulling her to him, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close, burying his nose in the elegant silk of her dark hair. He had missed her so badly since their fight, he had literally ached to hold her. He had lain awake at night wondering if he would ever be able to hold her again or if she would ever let go of their past long enough to see they could have a future together. Now he savored the contact of her body nestling against his. He pressed his lips to her cheek, breathing deeply of her soft, sweet fragrance.

“Go to Chicago and knock ’em dead,” Rebecca murmured, pressing her head against his shoulder. “I’ll be rooting for you.”

“Umm…about that…” Jace pulled back a little and gave her a sheepish look. “I’m not going.”

Rebecca’s face dropped. “What?”

Jace shrugged in apology. He felt kind of foolish telling her this now that she’d poured her heart out in a big admission of love and trust. “I’m not going.”

“But they called you. It was on the radio,” she said.

“I know. They did call me this morning,” he said. “But I’ve given it a lot of thought and decided you’re more important to me than a second chance at stardom. If staying here is what it takes to make you believe I love you, then that’s what I’ll do. I don’t need fame, Becca, I need you.”

“Oh, Jace,” she murmured, going into his arms again and hugging him. “What about your dream of a comeback? You’ve worked so hard.”

“I wanted to prove I could make it back to the big leagues. I did that.” With a gentle hand he tipped Rebecca’s chin up. His fingertips stroked the curve of her cheek as he gave her a tender, earnest look. “Now I have some other things to prove—that I can be a decent husband and father.”

The temptation for Rebecca to accept his decision was strong. She didn’t like to think of Jace leaving, didn’t like to think of all the pressure he would be under once he got to Chicago, but she didn’t think she could live with herself if she kept him here.

If Jace stayed, he might always wonder if he could have cut it had he gone back. Could he have handled the pressures of the game and the press and the specter of his past?

After all he’d gone through to change his life, he owed it to himself to prove he could handle it. Rebecca felt she owed it to him to let him find out.

She leaned up and kissed his cheek, then stood back and gazed at him as if she were memorizing the way he looked at this very moment—handsome and tough in jeans and an azure polo shirt that matched the color of his eyes. He wasn’t the brash golden boy of her past. The planes and angles of his face were sharper and harder. The lines at the corners of his eyes and sensuously cut mouth had been etched there by pain and experience. The age in those eyes had been hard won.

This wasn’t the Jace who had captured a young girl’s heart and then carelessly broken it. This was the Jace a woman could trust her heart to and believe he would care for it and cherish it, because she loved him, because she believed in his love for her.

“I love you,” she said softly. “I’m all done asking for proof, Jace. It’s enough to know you’d stay if I asked you to.” She offered him a gentle smile as she reached up to touch his cheek. “You go back to the big leagues and show them what Jace Cooper is made of.”

“Do you mean it, Becca?”

She nodded. “I’ll go with you if you need me to.”

Jace thought of all the responsibilities she was willing to walk away from for him. His heart swelled with love for her. It seemed he wasn’t the only one who had been growing and changing. He was tempted to take her up on her offer, but he didn’t.

There were still a few things he wanted to prove to himself and to the Kings’ management. If he went back, he’d go back alone, to stand on his own two feet and face up to his ghosts. He wanted to know he had Rebecca’s love and support, but she couldn’t be beside him. This was something he would have to do on his own.

“No,” he said, brushing her hair back from her cheek. “It’s enough to know you’d go if I asked you.”

Rebecca could feel it strengthen between them—the bond that had always been there deep inside. She felt it grow stronger, bridging the troubled waters of their past, pulling them to another, higher plateau, a place where love knew no insecurities, no uncertainties. And she knew in a sudden brilliant flash of insight, that this was the reward.

It had been well worth the risk.

She leaned up and kissed him, then gave him a smile that shone with all the love she felt. “Go to Chicago, Jace. I’ll be waiting when you come home.”

Taking her hand, he returned her smile and nodded toward the house across the alley where cats had gathered on the sagging porch to sun themselves. “Come help me pack.”

                  11                  

Rebecca nursed the one glass of champagne she was allowing herself in celebration, savoring the bright, sparkling taste on her tongue. Muriel’s house was beautiful, she thought. The transformation it had undergone since spring had brought the old place back to life, just as Muriel’s own transformation had returned her vitality and spirit.

Decked out in all its splendor for Victorian Christmas and overflowing with guests, the house glowed with life and happiness. Everyone present seemed to be glowing. And if the guests were glowing, Rebecca imagined she had to be downright radiant.

A contented, feminine smile touched her lips as she enjoyed a moment alone. For the time being, there was no one else in the hall. It was, without a doubt, the happiest day of her life, and Rebecca was glad to be sharing it with her friends, but she wanted to take a few minutes to catch her breath and gather her thoughts and feelings.

She had just left the dining room, where the long mahogany table was laden with a dozen different dishes and Merlin moved through the crowd, dressed as a butler, serving glasses of champagne from a silver tray. Everything was going smoothly, so Rebecca took the opportunity to rest on the organ bench and gaze around at the decorations she had helped put up.

A fresh evergreen garland graced the grand staircase. There was greenery everywhere, and silky red and white bows, and bunches of dried flowers. Poinsettias of several different hues filled the bay window in the dining room, and nearly every table in the house held a bouquet of red roses accented with white baby’s breath. The floral scent that filled the air was fresh and intoxicating.

In the parlor, where many of the guests were, a fresh-cut Fraser fir scratched at the nine-foot-high ceiling with its spiny spire. Many of the ornaments hanging on it had been in Muriel’s family for years, some had come from France with Rebecca’s maternal grandparents, and some had been painstakingly created by Justin.

Even Muriel’s cats had a festive look about them—at least the ones social enough to brave the crowd. Each wore a red velvet bow around its neck.

But not everyone was decked out in Christmas finery. Christmas was still a week away. The occasion today was no less special than Christmas, Rebecca thought. In fact, it was very like Christmas in that they were celebrating life and love and wondrous new beginnings.

She smiled again and felt all sparkly inside as she lovingly ran a hand over the skirt of her satin wedding dress.

“So this is where you’re hiding,” Jace said softly as he slipped out of the dining room with a cheese puff in one hand.

“Hiding in plain sight.” She gazed at him with what she suspected was a silly smile on her face. Her husband of three hours was incredibly handsome in a tuxedo.

Jace returned her look, his eyes shining with love. Rebecca was a vision with her midnight hair swept up in back and adorned with tiny sprigs of baby’s breath. The gown she wore was very old-fashioned—puffy sleeves with tight lace cuffs, tiny seed pearls encrusting a snug bodice with a high lace collar. The rich satin fabric looked almost as creamy as her skin. The emerald he had placed on her ring finger only hours ago looked almost as exquisite as the jewel green of her eyes. The diamonds that surrounded it almost matched her sparkle.

Taking her hand in his, Jace drew her to her feet and pressed a kiss to her soft ruby lips. “You are without a doubt the most beautiful bride on the face of the earth.”

Rebecca beamed and blushed, as brides are expected to do. “I think Dad might argue with you,” she said. “He seems to think Muriel looks very fetching in her wedding dress too.”

“And so she does,” Jace conceded as he led her down the hall toward the back of the house. “I guess old Hugh knew what he was doing when he talked her into letting me room here for the summer.”

Rebecca couldn’t have looked more stunned if he had suddenly sprouted antlers. “He did what? My father did what?”

“Now, honey, don’t get upset—”

“I’m not upset,” she said, raising her hands. “I am not upset.”

“You’re repeating yourself,” Jace pointed out, taking the champagne glass from her hand before she could spill it. He set it and his cheese puff on a table. As Rebecca stopped in her tracks and leveled a scowl at him, he decided to spill the beans fast and get it over with. “He was the ‘friend’ who made my arrangements for a place to stay. I guess he figured it would be good for everyone concerned. You and I could see each other, and I could talk Muriel into getting out more, and—”

“That sneaky old fox!” she said, laughing, delighted.

“It
did
work out for everybody.”

Jace pulled her into the small sitting room that had been part of his apartment. Rebecca found herself in his arms, all but purring with happiness. “I’ll say,” she said. “Dad ends up with Muriel. You and Dad go into business together. We end up with each other.”

“I like that last part best,” Jace said, sneaking a kiss. He nibbled at the teardrop pearl that hung from her left earlobe. “I love you, Mrs. Cooper.”

She answered him with a sigh and a hug.

“No regrets about leaving baseball?” Rebecca asked as they snuggled together on the burgundy fainting couch.

He shook his head. “No. I made my comeback, went out on top, proved everything I needed to prove. I am very ready to settle down with my lovely bride and wonderful son and go into the robot-building business.”

Rebecca kissed his cheek. “I love you, Mr. Cooper.”

It seemed far too simple a thing to say for the way she felt about him. He was her best friend and her lover and her soul mate. And she was so proud of him, of the way he had exorcised his past, of the way he had fought back from his injury.

Jace was thinking of that final chapter of his career as well. He had gone back to Chicago and silenced his critics with solid playing and an attitude that proved to everyone he was a stronger, better man than the Jace Cooper they remembered. It hadn’t been easy. In fact, it had probably been one of the more difficult things he’d ever had to go through in his life. But the one thing that had helped him through it was knowing he had the love and support of the woman now sitting beside him.

The day before the Kings had gone into the World Series, Jace had announced he would retire at the end of it whether his team won or lost. The Kings had lost in a seventh-game heartbreaker, but Jace had hung up his spikes and walked away happy and satisfied.

“We should go back to the party,” Rebecca said with just a trace of regret in her voice. “Our guests will miss us.”

“They can wait another minute or two. When I left the dining room, Turk and Mr. Peppy were getting into a rather interesting conversation with some of your dad’s pals from Notre Dame. That should keep everyone distracted for a little while,” Jace said with mischief dancing in his eyes. Sitting ahead, he reached into the inside breast pocket of his jacket. He handed Rebecca a small ivory envelope. “I brought you in here to give you your wedding present.”

“Oh,” she said in mock disappointment, her mouth settling into a sultry pout. “I thought you snuck me in here for hanky-panky.”

Jace waggled his dark eyebrows at her. “You’ll get all the hanky-panky you can handle tonight.”

“Promises, promises,” she said teasing.

She turned the envelope over and around, examining it and prolonging the anticipation. Shooting Jace a smile, she said, “At least it’s not mechanical.”

“No way,” he said with a chuckle. “I have no desire to be electrocuted by my bride on my wedding night.”

Making a face at him, she slowly opened the envelope and extracted a snapshot. It was the same snapshot he had sent to her office the day the Kings had called him back to Chicago, the photograph of their special place in the meadow by the stream.

Jace offered no explanation when she turned to him with a curious look. He leaned back and relaxed, the light of reminiscence glowing soft in his dark eyes. “Do you remember the time we walked over that hill and saw that big farmhouse there?”

She smiled fondly. “Yeah, it was yellow with blue shutters and a big porch—”

“—and oak trees in the yard. And you wondered if it didn’t have a big sunny breakfast room and—”

“—polished wood floors.”

Jace reached out with one finger and traced the slope of her nose. “It does.”

It wasn’t necessary for him to say any more than that. Rebecca knew without having to ask. Jace was giving her their meadow, the special place where they had made so many wonderful memories. It would be within walking distance of their home.

“I would have given you the deed,” Jace said, “but the bank wants to hang on to that for the next thirty years or so.”

“It’s the thought that counts,” she said, hugging him.

“It’s my bonus money from the playoffs that counts,” he corrected her with a grin.

“You know, I think I love baseball almost as much as I love you,” she said.

Leaning back, Rebecca settled herself against his side, drawing her feet up to tuck them under her on the couch. Jace draped an arm around her and kissed her. It was a lazy kiss, one that said they had all the time in the world to please each other.

“Hey, you guys,” Justin said trooping into the room. “Whatcha doing in here?”

“Smoochin’,” Jace said with a grin. “Want some?”

The boy giggled as he stopped at Jace’s knee. He was adorable in his miniature tux with his little bow tie askew. Rebecca had combed his black hair before the double wedding ceremony. Now one stubborn sprig had sprung free at the crown of his head. He had a smear of pink frosting from the wedding cake on his chin.

He looked up at Jace, as excited as he would be on Christmas Day, and said, “Hi, Dad!”

Everything in Jace turned warm and soft. He lifted Justin up onto his lap and hugged him. “Hi, son.”

Justin settled in, snug and content. He looked up at Rebecca and said, “Now that I have a mom
and
a dad, can I get a baby brother for Christmas?”

Rebecca blushed prettily, a grin tugging at her lips. “Ask your father, sweetheart.”

Jace gave her an incredulous look, then swallowed hard as he met Justin’s innocent, expectant gaze. “Umm…ah…” His mind scrambled for an appropriate remark. “…We’ll see.”

It sounded more like a question than an answer. Rebecca pressed a fist to her mouth to hold back her giggles as Jace instructed Justin to go check on Merlin.

“Do you think he’ll settle for a puppy?” Jace asked weakly.

“Probably.”

He turned and smiled warmly at his bride. “Maybe next year we can give him a baby brother.”

Rebecca fixed her gaze on her lap as she shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

Jace tried to ignore the pang near his heart. He was pushing her again. He had to learn to give her some room. He reached out a tentative hand to touch her shining raven’s-wing hair. “I—I’m sorry, honey. If you want to wait awhile—”

“No,” Rebecca said softly, nibbling at her lush lower lip. “It’s not that I
want
to wait. It’s that I don’t think I
can
wait.”

Confused, Jace stared at her a moment before uttering the classic male line. “Huh?”

With a look that held all the mystery and wisdom of women through the ages, Rebecca took his hand and drew it to the soft, shimmering fabric that fell across her stomach. “I’d say this little one isn’t going to wait much longer than August.”

Jace’s gaze was fixed on Rebecca’s elegant, long-fingered hand lying over his bigger masculine hand. Beneath his palm was the satin softness of her gown and a tiny life that had been planted there in an act of love.

It wasn’t difficult to pinpoint when. Rebecca had come to Chicago to spend a few days with him between the league championship and the World Series—before he had announced his retirement, before she had gotten solid proof he would be coming home to her.

This child that was growing inside her was the ultimate symbol of her trust in him, of her love for him.

When he raised his head, there were tears in his eyes.

“I am so lucky. I thought I had it all. I thought the magic would never end, and I lived accordingly.” He shook his head in wonder at both his ignorance and his newfound knowledge. “I know I never had anything worthwhile until now, until you. Thank you for believing in me, Becca.”