Shadows of Yesterday - Page 47

; Had the topic not been so important, Leigh would have laughed at her parents’ astounded expressions. She had called them and asked them to drive to Midland for the day. She hadn’t told them why. Now that they had inquired into her health and the baby’s, poured themselves a cup of coffee from one of her new coffeemakers, exclaiming how glad they were that she had finally deigned to get one, and taken their favorite seats in her living room, she had calmly announced that she was to be married within weeks.

“But, Leigh, that’s… that’s highly improper, for one thing. Greg’s barely been dead”

“He’s been dead over a year, Mother. I think that period of mourning should satisfy even the most stringent sense of decorum.”

“Don’t be flippant with me, Leigh. It’s irritating. Especially under the circumstances.”

“I’m sorry.” She had known it wasn’t going to be easy to tell her parents about her forthcoming marriage, but she hadn’t bargained on its being quite so hard. Chad had wanted to be with her, to lend his support in a situation she had predicted wouldn’t be pleasant, but she had refused. Knowing her mother’s waspish tongue, she had thought it better to take the first onslaught alone.

“Leigh,” her father said in a tone more kindly than her mother’s, “could it be that you’ve formed a fondness for this young man because he delivered your baby? Perhaps if you give the relationship time, you’ll see that what you’re feeling isn’t love but gratitude.”

She smiled privately and her thoughts went back to the night she had accepted Chad’s proposal. Lying in Chad’s arms, wonderfully tired from their lovemaking, she had tilted her head back from the crook of his shoulder to kiss his chin, and whisper, “Thank you.”

His eyes were closed, but one thick brow cocked in query. “For what?”

“For loving me.”

A soft rumble of laughter echoed from his chest into her ear. “It was my pleasure.”

She smiled. “Thank you for that, too,” she said, trailing her finger down the tapering line of hair on his stomach. “But I meant thank you for loving me. And Sarah. Not all men would want to rear someone else’s child.”

He opened his eyes then and turned his head on the pillow they shared. “It’s strange, but I’ve always felt as if she were mine. Physically she looks like you, not Greg as you’ve described him to me, and then, too, I was there when she was born. As far as I’m concerned, she is unquestionably, ‘ours.’ ”

She had hugged him fiercely. “Would you ever consider adopting her? Making her name legally Dillon?”

“I’d love that, but I would never have asked you for it. Biologically she is Greg’s.”

“Yes, and I’ll want her to know that, to know about him. But he had no family after his mother, Sarah, died. You’re the only daddy my Sarah will ever have, and I think she’d rather share our name. All things considered, it would be much less confusing.”

“I want both of you to have my name. As soon as possible.”

Leigh’s face glowed warm at the memory of the kiss that followed. Yes, she had many reasons to be grateful to Charles Dean Dillon. She addressed both her parents. “I’ll be eternally thankful that Chad came upon me that day, that he was man enough to do what he did with sensitivity and care. But that’s not where my feelings stop. I love him. I want him to be my husband, my lover.”

“Oh, my God,” Lois groaned and placed her fluttering hand against her throat. “Leigh, you’re a new mother. Listen to yourself. Harve, say something,” she hissed to Leigh’s father. Never giving him a chance to obey her, she launched into her next string of objections.

“You told us yourself that night in the hospital that he looked like he could use money, a reward for helping you. Does he have a job? What does he do?”

Leigh didn’t want to broach that subject yet. She would learn to cope with Chad’s career, and cope with it she would. Loving him as she did, she was determined to overcome her antipathy for his work. Besides, her mother was asking about Chad’s profession for another reason entirely—to determine his financial and social status. She had never quite forgiven Leigh for marrying a mere government official. Would she ever be surprised, Leigh thought maliciously.

She smiled. “Yes, Mother. He has a job. He… uh… he works on oil wells.”

“A roughneck!” her mother screeched. “Leigh, think, for God’s sake! You’re intending to marry a roughneck who comes from God knows what and God knows where and will treat you God knows how. Harve,” Lois repeated, grinding out the name in an effort to urge him on.

“Leigh, honey, we’re not saying to call the wedding off, but it might be wise to postpone it until we’ve all had time to get to know each other. We can’t dictate what you do, you’re a grown woman, but you’re acting rashly. We don’t want you to get hurt. You’ve got not only yourself, but your baby to think of.”

Leigh took his objections one at a time. “First, we’re not postponing getting married. We’re not going to live together until we do, so we can hardly wait as it is. Second, you’ll both have a chance to get to know Chad today. He’s invited you to his house for lunch and I’ve accepted for you.” She ignored her mother’s distressed wail. “Third, I’m glad you recognize that I’m a grown woman, old enough and mature enough to make my own decisions. I’m telling you now that I’ll marry Chad whether you approve of him or not. And last but far from least, he adores Sarah and she him. Now, I think that’s everything. Chad will be here in half an hour and I still need to dress. Excuse me.”

There was a triumphant smile on her face as she left them in stunned silence. She put on a blue jersey sweater-dress Chad hadn’t seen before. The soft cowl collar caressed her jawline and that particular shade of cobalt blue deepened the blue of her eyes and enhanced her coloring. She awoke Sarah, who had been taking her morning nap, and dressed her in a frilly jump suit with legs like old-fashioned pantaloons.

When Leigh returned to the living room, her parents were where she had left them. Harve Jackson shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Lois sat in stern rigidity on the sofa.

“Will you sit in your swing like a nice girl until Chad gets here?” Leigh asked of Sarah.

“I disapprove of those contraptions, Leigh. I held you when you were a baby. You modern mothers think so little of your children.”

Leigh bit her lip in an effort not to lash out at her mother that no one could love a baby more than she loved Sarah. Instead, she answered levelly, “I know that holding and fondling are important, Mother. I spend hours with Sarah each day rocking her, petting her, but I do it at my whim, not hers. That way she doesn’t get spoiled into expecting me to drop everything and pick her up when she cries.”

“There’s nothing wrong with—”

Tags: Sandra Brown Romance
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