Karen Young - Belle Pointe

“Hindsight,” Franklin said.

Beatrice stood at the window, looking out. “I know this is an awful thing to say and I grieve for her loss, but I’m thankful for an opportunity to have her visit. I had only a few hours with her on our wedding day before Buck whisked her back to St. Louis.”

“He sure doesn’t spend any time in his hometown if he can avoid it,” Franklin said, rising to go to her. “And even though the circumstances aren’t ideal, it’s—as you say—an opportunity for you to get to know her.”

With her hands clasped and pressed against her heart, Beatrice looked ready to cry. “I want that so much.”

“I know, my darling.” He went to her thinking to comfort her with a hug. Only when he tipped up her chin to kiss her did he see the tears.

It was midmorning that same day before Buck made it to Anne’s room. She was awakened by a light kiss on her forehead. She opened her eyes to find him leaning close, fumbling for her hand. She evaded his touch by clutching the blanket.

“Hi,” he said.

She felt oddly detached, studying his face. One cheek was bruised and he had a black eye. Above it was a sizeable bandage covering what she assumed was the blow that caused his concussion. Day-old stubble darkened his jaws, giving him a rakish look that the nurses probably found sexy. “Hello, Buck.”

“Finding a way to visit my wife around here is harder than trying to finagle a pass to get out of jail,” he said with a smile. “Good thing I know some people.”

He was going to play it with humor, she thought. Okay. Whatever. “Should you be walking around? Monk seemed concerned about your knee.”

“Like they say, I feel like I’ve been rode hard and put up wet.” His smile was a little off-center, aimed at charming her. “But I’m okay. How’re you doing?”

“I’m fine.” She turned to look out the window. “How’s the Porsche?”

“Totaled,” he said wryly. Then a pause. “Anne, I—”

“The staff at the hospital’s buzzing over you being here.” She watched a couple of birds—blue jays, she decided—quarreling in flight. “More than one person has told me we’re both lucky to be alive.”

“Yeah. It was a close call…and stupid on my part. I was speeding and I didn’t have my seat belt on. Thank God you did.”

“The Jacks will no doubt think of some way to exonerate you.”

“But will you?”

“I don’t know, Buck.”

He put out a hand and caught her chin. “Anne, please look at me.” Reluctantly, she raised her eyes to his. “I’m sorry. I know those words won’t begin to be enough for you, but I am so sorry. I wouldn’t have this happen for the world.”

“You wouldn’t?” Her eyes locked with his. “Really? Even to rid yourself of a baby you didn’t want?”

He was shaking his head. “I know that’s how it sounded and I wish I had those few minutes in the hotel to live over again. I wish I’d left when you asked me to. I wish I hadn’t driven so fast.” He made a distressed sound. “I…you…I guess I was just floored when I heard you were pregnant. I know that’s no excuse—”

“You’re right. It’s no excuse.” She turned away again. “So what’s the point of talking? I’ve miscarried. The baby’s gone. I accept that you’re sorry. It’s just—” She shrugged. “I guess it just seems…too little, too late.”

“I need you to forgive me for this, Anne,” he said. “I want us to go home and spend some time talking. I want us to—”

She made an impatient sound. “It’s always what you want, isn’t it, Buck? Well, right now I really don’t care what you want. I don’t think you even begin to suspect what has happened to us—to our marriage. I know you made it plain that you didn’t want a baby, but I honestly thought that you’d come around once you knew we had created a child. I was wrong about that and you can rest easy that you won’t have to cope with my silly wishes for a baby ever again.”

She felt a wild urge to throw the covers aside. She wanted to go at him nose to nose to tell him exactly how completely beyond redemption he was to her now. Instead, she made an effort to draw a calming breath. “I want you to leave now, Buck, before we both say things we’ll probably regret.”

His face had gone pale at her attack. Shaken, he said, “I don’t want to leave you like this.”

“Too bad.” She sighed then and gave him a sad look. “Are we strangers, Buck? After six years of marriage, do we actually know each other? Did you really not realize how important it was to me to have a child?”

“I don’t think I did,” he said slowly, looking like a man walking a path through a minefield. “I know that sounds selfish and egotistical, but we can work this out, Anne.”

“I don’t know if I want to work it out.”

“You don’t mean that.” He paused, choosing his words cautiously. “I mean, you’re upset and you have a right to be. When we get home and you’ve had a chance to rest and…you know, sort of recover, we’ll talk.”

She gave him a straight look. “Recover from losing my baby? Just like that?”

“Not ‘just like that.’ Of course not.” Looking exhausted, he rubbed a hand over his beard. “I was told you’re going to be released tomorrow morning. Is that right?”

She was so emotionally spent that it was a moment before she answered. “I don’t know. I’d leave now, but my doctor insists that I stay another day. Which is irrelevant as far as you’re concerned. The Jacks aren’t going to let you leave.”

“I want to take you home.” He shifted on his feet, squared his shoulders and got a stubborn look on his face. “I mean, I’m going to take you home. They—the Jacks—do want to keep me in here, but I’m leaving when you do, so don’t go without me. As ticked off as you are, I wouldn’t put it past you to check out early.”

“What’re you going to do to stop me? Camp out in the parking lot?” She sighed, too tired for sarcasm. “Besides, you can’t drive with that knee. You’re in pain. I know the signs whether you admit it or not.” She could tell by the strain pulling at his mouth and the fact that he was sweating. “If you’ve really got a concussion, I don’t think it’s smart for you to be driving. If you don’t worry about your own safety, then I care about mine. Marcie will come for me if I call her.”

“I’ll hire a limo and driver. We’ll go home together. Then we’ll talk.”

“A limousine?” He blinked at the sudden fury on her face. “Do. Not. Hire. A limousine. I repeat, Buck, do not do it. I hate the publicity this has already stirred up. All I need is to get discharged and find a forty-foot limo with a driver waiting to take me away in style. I’m leaving to escape that kind of smothering publicity.”

He frowned as if he hadn’t heard her correctly. “What do you mean, you’re leaving?”

She closed her eyes and looked away again, unwilling to get into it with him now about her plans. “I’m tired, Buck. I don’t have the energy to talk about this anymore. You can go home with me tomorrow morning…if you’re able to leave. Otherwise, I will ask Marcie.”

“Is that a promise?” he asked.

She turned to look at him. “I don’t want more gossip, so that’s the way it has to be.”

“Then I’ll be here,” he said, speaking with a clamped jaw. “Come hell or high water, I’ll be here.”

She waved a hand weakly. “Whatever, Buck.”

“I’m sorry, Anne.” When the words came out huskily, he cleared his throat. “I swear to God I’ll make it up to you.”

She turned back to the window without speaking and after a minute, she heard him leave.