that vow as she signed her name on the divorce papers. She couldn't fail
so miserably at something ever again, or risk putting Aubrey through the
misery and trauma. She'd made the decision that she would raise Aubrey
alone, raise her well, raise her with love. That she herself would
provide, would build the home, tend it, where her daughter could grow up
happy and safe.
But that was before she had let herself believe Ethan would ever want
them, would ever love her the way she loved him. Because it had always
been Ethan. Always Ethan, she thought, closing her eyes. In her heart,
in her dreams. Did she dare break her promise, one she had made so
solemnly? Could she risk being a wife again, pinning her hopes and her
heart on another man?
Oh, yes. Yes, she could risk anything if the man was Ethan. It was so
right, so perfect, she thought, laughing to herself as her head and
heart went light with joy. It was the happy-ever-after that she'd
stopped letting herself yearn for.
How would he ask? She pressed her fingers to her lips, and those lips
trembled and curved. Quietly, she thought, with his eyes so serious, so
intent on hers. He would take her hand, in that careful way of his.
They'd be outside with moonlight and breezes, with the scents of night
all around them and the musical lap of water close by.
Simply, she thought, without poetry or fuss. He would look down at her,
saying nothing for a long moment, then he would speak, without hurry.
/ love you, Grace. I always will. Will you marry me?
Yes, yes, yes! She spun herself in giddy circles. She would be his
bride, his wife, his partner, his lover. Now. Forever. She could give
her child to him knowing, without hesitation, that he would love and
cherish, would protect and tend. She would have more children with him.
Oh, God--Ethan's child growing inside her. Overwhelmed by the image, she
pressed her hands to her stomach. And this time, this time, the life
that fluttered inside her would be wanted and welcomed by both who'd
made it.
They would make a life together, a wonderfully, thrillingly simple life.
She couldn't wait to begin it.
Tomorrow night, she remembered, and in a sudden panic, pushed at her
hair. Dropped her hands to look at them in utter despair. Oh, she was a
mess. She needed to look beautiful.
What would she wear?
She caught herself laughing, the laughter full of joy and nerves. For
once she forgot work and schedules and responsibility and raced to her
closet.
anna didn't notice the stolen flowers until the next day. Then she
noticed them with a shout.
"Seth! Seth, you come out here right now." She had her hands on her
hips, her sassy straw hat askew, her eyes snapping and dangerous.
"Yeah?" He came out, munching on a handful of pretzels, though dinner
was simmering on the stove.
"Have you been messing with my flowers?" she demanded.
He slid a glance down to the mixed bed of annuals and perennials. And
snorted. "What would I be messing with stupid flowers for?"