Debbie Macomber - An Engagement in Seattle - Groom Wanted

Leaning her forehead against the side of the hospital bed, Julia must have dozed because the next thing she knew Alek was there.

“How is she?”

“There’s been no change.”

Alek sat down next to Julia. “Have you had dinner?”

“I’m not hungry.”

Alek nodded and when he spoke again it was in his own language, which had a distinct beauty. Whatever he was saying seemed to please her grandmother because Ruth smiled. At first Julia was convinced she’d imagined it, which would’ve been easy enough to do. But there was no denying the change in Ruth’s ashen features.

“It’s midnight, my love.”

Julia glanced at her watch, sure he was mistaken. She must have slept longer than she’d realized.

“Come,” he said, standing behind her, his hands on her shoulders. “I’ll drive you home.”

She shook her head, unwilling to leave.

“You aren’t doing her any good, and you’re running yourself down, both physically and mentally.”

“You go ahead,” she said. “I’ll stay a little longer.”

She heard the frustration in his sigh. “I’m not leaving without you. You’re exhausted.”

“I’m afraid to leave her,” she whispered brokenly. The time had come for the truth, painful though it was. Julia was surprised she’d chosen to voice it to Alek and not her brother.

“Why?” her husband inquired gently.

She was glad he was standing behind her and couldn’t see the tears in her eyes. “If Ruth dies, when she dies, a part of me will go with her.” The best part, Julia feared. Something would perish in her own heart. Her faith in God and in herself would be shaken, and she wondered if this time the damage would be beyond repair.

“Do you wish to bind her to this life, this pain?”

“No,” Julia answered honestly. Yet she held on to Ruth fiercely.

A part of Julia had died with her father. It had been joy. Trust had vanished afterward when she realized everything he’d told her about Roger was true. She hadn’t wanted to believe her father, had argued with him, fought with him. It was while they were shouting at each other that he’d suffered the heart attack that had prematurely claimed his life.

Joy had faded from her soul that afternoon, replaced by guilt. In the years since, she’d made a semicom-fortable life for herself. She wasn’t happy, nor was she unhappy. She buried herself in her work, the desire to succeed propelling her forward, dictating her actions. Her goal was to undo the damage Roger had done to the company. First she would rebuild Conrad Industries to its former glory and then continue on the course her father had so carefully charted.

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