Chapter Ten

Emma slowly opened her eyes. Bright lights and sharp antiseptic smells filled her senses. Neutral colors came to view, then a few diagnosis machines. A plastic tube ran into her arm—an IV—while a second ran from another machine to her chest area. A black brace wrapped her arm, laying it flat on the bed beside her. Beeps and whirls echoed; beyond was the sound of voices and footsteps. Movement came from the side of the bed.

“About time you woke up, honey.” Relief sounded in the beautiful voice, in the gentle touch of her hand “You scared us.”

“I’m…sorry, Mom.”

Deep wrinkles lined her mouth with her sad smile. “You did nothing wrong, honey.”

“My…baby?”

A frown replaced the smile. “I’m sorry, honey. You lost the baby.”

Tears washed over her face, in a flood filled with anger and hurt. Dull pain sliced through the slight movement “I…killed the baby.”

“No,” her mother said, in the no-nonsense voice she used when she disagreed with her. “It was an accident, honey.”

“No, Mom.” Emma wanted to believe her, yet she couldn’t. Pain reverberated unhindered through her body, both physical and emotional. The baby was gone, the emptiness inside told her this truth more than her mother’s words. Tears threatened. “I wanted…”

“Honey, you were in an accident.” Her mother placed her hand against her cheek. “You didn’t plan on getting into an accident, did you?”

A sob escaped her tight hold. “I…left you.”

“Emma?”

She choked out words around her dry tongue. “If I’d…waited…for you, this wouldn’t…”

“Emma Rose, that’s enough.

“I…wanted an abortion.”

Her mother stood and stepped from the bed, dragging in a few loud breaths. Then she returned quickly to the bedside and cupped both of her cheeks, bringing her face within a whisper of hers. “You are not at fault.”

“But I…”

“Stop it right now, Emma.” Anger tightened her hands against her face. “I will not allow you to say things like that. You would never be a part of murdering a baby, through an abortion or an intentional car accident.”

Emma let that flow into her, yet. “But it does solve my biggest problem…”

“Luke?”

Emma nodded. “He confuses me, Mom.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.” When her mother didn’t say or do anything, she sighed and said, “He’s…caring. No man cared that much, not even Frank. Luke is…open with his feelings.” She glanced up at her mother. “Like Dad.”

Her mother studied her for a while before tapping her cheek and settling in the chair near the bed. “Do you love him?”

“That’s what so confusing,” she said, finding the bed control and raising her head a little. Sharp, quick pains stabbed around her ribs. Her vision went fuzzy and dizziness washed over her. She took in a set of slow, easy breaths into her sore lungs. “Everything hurts.”

Her mother frowned. “The doctor said you were lucky. You have a few broken ribs and your arm, of course. Your punctured right lung and the miscarriage…were the worst.”

“This baby caused so many problems for me, yet it still…hurts.” Emma placed her left hand on her flat stomach. “I feel…empty. Hollow.” Tears sneaked from her eyes, dimming the image of her mother. “I…didn’t want this to…happen.”

The agony intensified, exploding like an egg in a microwave. Why did it hurt so much? She barely felt pregnant, barely had the chance to enjoy it. She’d never gotten past that beginning stage. She’d never gotten to the stage where she felt good.

“Did I ever tell you how your father and I met?”

Emma pushed her hurt away. “Only…a million times.”

Happy sadness softened her voice. “We dated for three years before he asked me to marry him.”

Emma knew that.

“But I knew he was the man for me way before that.” She shook her head. “I fell in love with him two weeks after meeting him.”

She didn’t know that. “Really?”

“And he fell in love with me a week sooner.” Sweet laughter brightened the air. “We wanted to get married right away, but your grandparents thought we needed time to learn about each other.”

“I didn’t know that,” Emma said, sensing the reason for the story now. “But that was a different time, Mom. Men were decent then, not assholes like Mark. Or Frank.”

“So you’re finally admitting your ex-husband wasn’t perfect?”

“I never thought he was perfect, Mom.” Emma pulled her hand from her stomach and rubbed the fingers of her other hand. “No one’s perfect. I thought he was decent, however. Faithful.”

Silence followed her comment. Not an uncomfortable perception at first, but it soon changed as the memory of her accident invaded her. Discomfort rushed in, both the physical aching and the emotional. It was the emotional distress that settled in her soul, darkening her world with thunderous clouds.

“I talked to your uncle,” her mother whispered. “He told me he called Mr. Benjamin to tell him about Luke confronting his brother. Rebecca was on her way to Mark’s office, so he allowed her to follow. The rest… Well, you know the rest.”

“I figure Uncle George got involved somehow,” she said.

“Are you upset at him?”

“No, I’m thinking it was the only way Rebecca would have found out.” Emma said, patting the black cast lightly. “Luke told me she gave back the ring.”

“Luke seems like a good guy, honey.”

“Yes, he is.” Emma would never deny that. She’d never met a man who showed his feelings so easily, and cared so much. And he really listened to her. “Maybe he’s too good.”

“Too good?” Her eyes narrowed and then widened. “You love him, don’t you?”

“He’s not Dad,” Emma said. “And I’m not you. Love doesn’t work that way any more. No one can fall in love after only seeing each other a few times.”

She grinned. “Love happens in its own time, Emma. When two people are meant to be together, they know it. Like your father and I knew.”

“But is that what’s in the stars for Luke and me?”

Her mother didn’t say anything for a few minutes before she smiled. “Luke told me about the ultimatum he gave you.”

“He did?”

“I think you should take the time between now and before Thanksgiving dinner on Sunday,” she said, leaning in close and touching her face lightly. “And decide if you want to take a chance on him or not.”

“It’s not enough time.”

Her mother just patted her cheek and grinned.

****

Two days later, the doctor released Emma from the hospital.

“Be careful.” Anxiety rode clear in her mother’s voice. “My daughter’s in a lot of pain.”

“I will, Mrs. Cook.”

Emma sighed. “I’ll be fine, Mom.”

The nursing assistant locked the wheelchair and held out her hand. “Ready to go?”

She nodded.

Dressed in a simple pull-on dress with non-slip slippers on her feet, the young woman helped her into the wheelchair and set her feet into the footrests. Numbness settled around her heart, keeping her from feeling emotional pain. Yet her body ached with the physical kind. Even with her arm secured in a sling tight to her body and a tight wrap around her ribs, pain stabbed her with every tiny movement. The narcotic she’d just received barely took the edge of it.

Oh, why couldn’t her body be as numb as her heart?

The aide pushed her toward the door, sending another blast of discomfort through her. The older nurse followed. “Your daughter will be fine, Mrs. Cook.”

“Yes.” Her mother still looked worried. “It was a bad accident.”

The nurse nodded. “But she’s young and strong. In time, she’ll heal.”

Maybe her body would, but she wasn’t sure about her heart. Her eyes watered and she placed her hand on her empty stomach.

“Some things heal quicker than others.” Her mother waved the release form at the nurse. “I’ll make sure Emma follows the doctor’s instructions.”

“That’s good.” The nurse glanced at the nursing assistant. “You may take her to the car now.”

“And be careful,” her mother said, a frown lining her mouth.

“Yes, Ma’am.” The younger woman looked over at her uptight mother before grinning at Emma. “Are you ready to go?”

Emma nodded.

The nurse left them, and then the aide pushed her down the hall to the elevator, her mother moving close behind them. “My other daughter is waiting at the entrance for us.”

The aide pushed her inside the elevator, holding the door for her mother. Emma closed her eyes, opening them again when they reached the ground floor. Soon she was outside. And instead of another stormy day, bright sunlight burned her eyes. All the freaky early winter snow had melted.

“Nice day.” The aide pointed toward Steph’s car. “Is that the right car?”

“Yes.” Her mother stepped toward it and opened the front passenger side door. “I’ll sit in the back with the boys.”

The boys? Steph brought her children to pick her up?

Her nephews’ presence tunneled under her numbness, threatening to push it aside. No, she required it. She needed to be strong until she was alone. Neither her mother nor her sister ever lost a child. They wouldn’t understand her misery, especially when she herself wasn’t sure why it hurt so much. She’d acted like she didn’t want Mark’s kid, even telling herself the same thing.

Yet it had all been a lie. Emma was a part of the baby too—a bigger part. This was the child she wanted more than anything. She just didn’t realize it until the baby was gone.

“I’ll help you,” the aide said, forcing her mind off her interior struggles on to her exterior one. “Let me know when you’re ready.”

The door stood opened, with Steph leaning sideways and frowning at her. The boys were quiet in the back, with looks of childish concern. She looked at the seat. “I’m ready.”

She stepped from the chair and settled into the car, sharp pain knifing into her ribs. The young girl smiled and disappeared.

The boys still didn’t make a sound.

Her mother got into the back seat. “I’m ready to go, Steph.”

Those were the last words any one said on the way to her home.

Twenty minutes later, Steph pulled into her driveway. She helped her out of the car toward the front door. “Will you be okay, Emma?”

Concern sounded in her voice, sadness darkened her eyes. “I’ll…be fine.”

“Mom or I could stay with you, if you want,” she added. “Maybe you shouldn’t be alone right now.”

No, Steph was wrong. Right now, being alone was the proper thing to do. Being alone so she could cry out her pain was what she needed now. “I’ll call you later.”

“Promise?”

She nodded, fighting the prickling sensation of tears. “Yes.”

“Okay.” Steph placed her hand on the doorknob, but didn’t close it.

Emma sighed. “Mom and your boys are waiting for you.”

Wetness shined in her eyes a second before she raced to her and hugged her carefully. “I’m so sorry, Emma.”

Tears did flow then, as if someone opened the floodgates of a dam. She took in a quick, few breaths and wiped her face, not wanting her sister to see her response.

“Bye.” Steph slammed the door behind her.

Emma let go of her control then, falling to the sofa as the pain and anger roared from her.

Finally.

****

Saturday night, Mark dropped Luke at home. Exhaustion weighed on him like a five-story building. The two of them and Dad had been on the go in Cincinnati for the last three days, finalizing the addition of the latest acquisition to Benjamin Industries. It was a nice achievement for the business, a small, well-received pizza place on the outer limits of the city.

Yet he was more tired because of his brother’s constant complaining about Rebecca than the tense schedule. As if Mark didn’t have anything to do with her decision to call off the wedding. Many times Luke had bitten his tongue to keep from giving his opinion on the issue. To keep the family peace, he’d managed to make it through the last few days.

All he wanted now was sleep.

He’d planned on resting for only a few minutes, yet he’d drifted off. A distant ringing broke through his fatigue, pulling him from his half-slumber. His cell phone buzzed louder. He exhaled an unbelieving breath as he reached for it. “Hello.”

“I’m sorry for calling so late, Luke.”

The female voice woke him completely. He grinned as he shrugged out of his coat. “No problem, Rebecca. I almost fell asleep with my coat on.”

Instead of a weak laugh at his lame joke, a choking sob echoed in the line. Shit, Luke didn’t have the patience for a crying female right now. A teasing image of a woman standing naked near a kitchen door came to mind. He forced the picture away and focused on his phone call. Rebecca was right here, sobbing because of his asshole brother, no doubt. Emma was…not…and she may never be, near him again.

“It’s your stupid fault, Benjamin.” He grumbled into the phone. A shocked sob radiating into his ears and he quickly said, “What’s wrong, Rebecca?”

“It’s about…Emma,” she said, between choked-back tears. “Her mother called your mother on Tuesday afternoon.”

“Why?” He stood up straighter as the first part of her comment broke through his fatigue. “Did something happen to Emma?”

Her sobbing lasted for a few more seconds. “I told Mark about it and he was happy. Happy.”

Luke was too tired for this game. “Told Mark what, Rebecca?”

“About Emma,” she said, fighting for control again. “She was in a car accident Monday night.”

He jerked up straight. “Is she all right?”

“She’s fine, Luke.” Concern lowered the tone of her voice. “But she lost the baby.”

Emma lost her baby? Oh, please no. “How did you find this out? Are you sure?”

“Like I said, her mother called yours. Mom and I were visiting at the time.” Now only professionalism rode in her tone. “And your mom called your dad late Tuesday night. Your dad didn’t tell you?”

Now he understood why Mark seemed like a different person on the drive home. “No.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Mark knew so I just assumed you did.”

Emma lost the baby?

“Mark wants me to take back his ring,” Rebecca said, hesitation in her voice. “I’m not sure what to do.”

“You really love him, don’t you?”

“I’m not sure any more.”

Luke didn’t know what to tell her. How could he help her when he couldn’t even help himself? “I’m not in any position to give advice on love and marriage.”

She stayed silent.

“I messed everything up with Emma,” he admitted. “I gave her a choice the last time I saw her. I gave her a time limit to make up her mind about us. On Monday.”

She didn’t comment.

“Rebecca?”

“I just realized something, Luke,” she said, sadness echoing in the phone line. “You are a much better man than Mark.”

“No, I’m not. A good man wouldn’t have upset his wife enough to speed in bad weather, or his lady.”

“Neither Kathleen’s nor Emma’s accidents were your fault, Luke.” Anger now. “If the situation were reversed, you would never tell Emma to take back your ring. You would never expect her to still marry you.”

Guilt filled him. Rebecca had called him for comfort and he’d focused on his own selfish needs. He wandered into the bathroom and snatched a paper cup from the stack on the counter, sticking it under the spigot. The cool liquid soothed his throat.

“Emma wasn’t the first woman he’d cheated on me with,” she said, softly. “She’s the first one that got pregnant, though.”

“He’ll never change, Rebecca.”

“I know. But I hoped he would.”

Peace filtered into him. “This one time I’m going to tell you what to do. Don’t take back his ring. Let him go. Find a decent man.”

“You’re right,” she said, through her sobs. “Maybe someday I’ll find a man like you.”

Luke grinned at the hint of strength in her. She would be all right. “You will.”

“Right,” she said with a forced laugh. “So will you be at the wine booth tomorrow?”

“Like always,” he whispered. “Sunday too.”

And he hoped Emma would approach him.

“I’ll see you there then,” she said, before whispering goodbye and ending the call.

“No, wait, I need—” Dead air sounded in his ear. “I need to find out if Emma is out of the hospital.”

If the last few days had shown him anything, it was that he loved her. And he would fight to keep her.

Simple as that.