Part 22 (1/2)
”I'll be all right,” she a.s.sured him. ”I'm not giving up my baby. I've never had anyone of my very own, Copper,” she added in a soft, husky tone. Her hands lay protectively on the small rise. She smiled with wonder. ”He'll be my whole world.”
Coltrain couldn't fight that look on her face. And he wasn't without sympathy for Garon, now that he understood the man a little better. It didn't take a mind reader to know that Garon was the child's father. But this was going to be more dangerous for Grace than she realized.
”I need to talk to your prospective husband,” Coltrain began.
”No, you don't,” Grace told him belligerently. ”There is such a thing as patient-doctor privilege. You don't have my permission. That's the end of it.”
Coltrain was worried. But she was right. He couldn't betray her secret. He understood why she didn't want Garon to know. That didn't make it less risky. But he couldn't force himself to go behind her back, not after all she'd been through. She obviously wanted this baby enough to fight any hint of interference. His lips compressed. ”All right, I'll do the best I can.”
Garon, who'd just relived the most painful episode of his life, was only half listening to a conversation he didn't understand anyway.
He looked down at Grace with an expression she couldn't decipher.
”I'm sorry about the complication,” she said worriedly. ”I didn't know...”
”It isn't a complication, Grace,” Garon said gently. ”It's a baby.”
”But you don't want to marry me,” she started again.
”No, I don't,” he said honestly. ”But it's only for eight months,” he added. ”After the baby comes, we'll make decisions.”
Which meant he wasn't ready for any happily ever after, and she couldn't blame him. She'd been careless, but he was going to pay the price.
At least he wanted the child and wasn't going to try to force her to get rid of it. She wasn't going to tell him anything at all that might upset him. He'd lost one child. She was going to make sure, somehow, that he didn't lose this one.
HE DROVE TO HER HOUSE, got out with her and went inside when she unlocked the door.
”Pack a bag,” he said. ”You're staying at the house until we get married.”
”But I just got home...”
”Do I have to remind you of the risk?” he asked quietly.
For one frightening moment, she thought he meant the other risk. Then she realized, relieved, that he was talking about the killer.
”He probably still thinks I have amnesia,” she said.
”He's avoided arrest for twelve years and gotten away, if he's the killer, with eleven murders. He's not a stupid man. He must have lived here at the time.”
She'd never considered that possibility. She caught her breath and sat down heavily on the arm of her grandfather's old easy chair. ”Do you think so?”
”Most serial killers choose their first victim within a comfortable radius of where they live,” he said.
She bit her lip, thinking back. ”We had two renters down the road,” she recalled. ”One was married, but his wife was visiting family back east. The other was elderly and in a wheelchair.”
”He didn't necessarily live next door,” he said. ”He could have been involved in some program at school or church that brought him into contact with children.”
”He could have been anybody,” she said heavily. ”All these years, I've wondered.”
”We'll catch him,” he said with firm confidence. ”I promise you we will. But right now, I'm taking you home with me. There's no way in h.e.l.l I'm leaving you here alone.”
She saw that he meant it. Well, at least he was concerned for her. He did want the baby, even if he didn't want Grace. She got up and went to pack her things.
Miss Turner was fascinated, not only with the news of the wedding, at which she would be a witness, but at the prospect of a baby. She didn't even seem shocked that they'd put the cart before the horse. She was already picking out yarn and patterns for baby clothes.
Grace laid out her one decent dress, the blue wool one, on her bed the day of the wedding. Garon came into the room after a perfunctory knock, carrying a big box. He gave the blue dress a hot glare and put the box down right on top of it.
”What is this?” Grace asked.
”Open it.”
She lifted the lid. Inside, there was an oyster-white suit and a small hat with a white veil. There was a silk bouquet as well. She looked at him, astonished.
”I'm not marrying you in that d.a.m.ned blue dress,” he announced.
She touched the silk gently. She knew what it cost, because she bought it for her secret project that he still didn't know about. ”It's beautiful.”
”I got your measurements from Barbara,” he said, and didn't add that he'd had to apologize his way into her cafe after his last appearance there. But once she heard that he was marrying Grace, and that a baby was on the way, she backed down just enough to go shopping with him.
”Thanks,” she said in a shy, husky tone.
He shrugged. ”Your friend Judy at the florists' is making you a bouquet. Barbara and Miss Turner will be witnesses.”
She looked up. ”Rick?”
He had to clench his teeth. ”He has to work tomorrow. He couldn't get off.” That wasn't exactly the truth. He refused to watch Grace ruin her life, were his exact words. The young detective was furious when he knew why Garon was marrying Grace. Garon could understand how he felt, but he couldn't jilt Grace when she was carrying his child.
”Oh,” was all she said. She knew how Rick felt about her. She was sorry she couldn't feel the same about him. It was probably better that he didn't show up in the probate judge's office.
”I'm going to drive to the courthouse. Miss Turner will bring you.”
”Okay.”
He hadn't asked if she wanted a church wedding, or offered her an elaborate affair with bridesmaids and groomsmen. Probably he'd had that sort of wedding with his first wife. She didn't protest. He was still grieving for the woman he'd lost. It was enough that he was giving their child a name. She'd never expected him to want her permanently. n.o.body ever had.
THE PROBATE JUDGE was a woman, Anna Banes, and she'd been married herself for two decades. She knew Grace, and her family, and the ordeal Grace had been through. She gave them a short but dignified and poignant service, with Barbara and Miss Turner standing to the side of them.
She didn't think Garon would buy her a wedding ring, but he had. It was a wide gold band with platinum edging and a grape leaf pattern. He didn't buy one for himself. That was hardly surprising. The judge declared them legally married, and Garon bent to brush a cool kiss against her cheek. It had been a long time, but he still remembered the joy of his first wedding. He was fond of Grace, and he wanted the child, but he couldn't separate himself from the past.
Garon treated them to lunch afterwards at Barbara's Cafe, and the owner herself brought out a magnificent wedding cake that she'd made for the occasion. Grace felt tears running down her cheeks at the thoughtfulness. She hugged the older woman warmly, because she was the closest thing to family that Grace had.
They were on the way home, with Miss Turner returning separately in Garon's Expedition, when Garon's pager beeped. He pulled it out, slowed to check the text message and grimaced.
”I have to go in to the office,” he said, stepping on the gas. ”We've got a new lead in the case.”
”The killer?” she asked excitedly.