part. Yet, even after all this time, she remembered those magical days as his wife—days when she’d been so sure their love was strong enough to survive anything.
Until her world came crashing down, and she’d lost both Cole and their baby.
“…and I just hope that…that I’ve done the right thing. You mean the world to me, Regan. All I want…all I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy.”
Something in her aunt’s tone snagged Regan’s attention, pulled her from thoughts about the past. “I am happy, Aunt Liz. You’ve given me the one thing in the world that I want most—a baby…or at least the chance to have a baby.”
A worried frown chased across her aunt’s brow. “As wonderful as a baby is, it only fills a part of your life. What about a husband? Someone to share your life with? Don’t you want someone to be a father to this baby, to make more babies with you?”
Regan sighed at her aunt’s simple assessment of all the things missing in her life. “You didn’t need a man to make your life complete, Aunt Liz. Neither do I.”
“We’re not talking about me, dear. Besides, I did have someone once. Someone I was foolish enough to let go. I’m an old woman now, with most of my life behind me. But you…you have most of your life still ahead of you. Don’t waste it. Don’t settle for memories and regrets.”
“I’m not wasting my life,” Regan insisted.
“Are you sure? I can’t help remembering the last time you were pregnant. How happy and in love you and Cole were, and when the two of you got married—”
“Our marriage was a mistake. We were too young to know what we were doing.”
Her aunt’s frown deepened. The brown eyes so like her father’s pinned her. “You were old enough to know that you loved each other, to conceive a child together. I’ve often wondered if your father hadn’t insisted on that annulment—”
“Daddy did what he thought was best,” Regan countered, a lump forming in her throat. She turned away, stared out the window, hugging her arms about her as though it could somehow stop the ache that always came when she played the game of what-ifs. What if she had gone to Cole and told him about her father’s threats to have him arrested because she’d been underage unless she annulled the marriage? What if she hadn’t lied to Cole, hadn’t said she didn’t love him? What if…
“Honey, I know you loved your father. He was my brother, and I loved him too. But that doesn’t mean I was blind to his faults. He wasn’t perfect. Sometimes he made mistakes, judged people unfairly. He was wrong about Cole. And he was wrong to interfere in your marriage, to force you to make a choice.”
“What’s done is done, Aunt Liz. We can’t go back.” Determined to lock the painful door to the past, she turned around to face her aunt. “What matters is the future. This baby is my future.”
“You’re right,” her aunt said, sliding a worried glance to Regan’s stomach. “I just hope that whatever happens…”
Suddenly alarmed, Regan placed her hand protectively on her belly. Fear curled like a fist around her heart. “Aunt Liz, is there something you haven’t told me? Is there…is there something wrong with my baby?”
“No. Oh no, child. Nothing’s wrong with the baby.”
“Then what is it? Why the long face?”
She shook her head, gave her a tight smile. “I guess I’m just worrying that maybe I’m as bad as your father because I’m the one interfering in your life now.”
Relief washed through Regan. “You haven’t. You’ve given me a priceless gift.”
“But what if—”
“No what-ifs,” Regan insisted. “Everything’s going to be fine. Just wait and see. This time absolutely nothing’s going to go wrong.”
One
Absolutely everything seemed to be going wrong, Regan admitted as she retraced her path from the ladies’ room to her office at the rear of the jewelry salon. Pressing a hand to her still-queasy stomach, she eased behind the worktable where her jeweler’s tools, an assortment of gems and several pieces awaited her attention.
“Come on, Slugger,” Regan pleaded, smoothing her palm over her still-flat belly. “How about giving Mommy a break here? Morning sickness is called that for a reason. These tummy hijinks are not supposed to happen in the afternoon, too.” She certainly hadn’t expected the morning sickness to plague her long and late into every day, as had been the case during the two weeks since she’d confirmed her pregnancy. Nor had she expected her energy level to dip so drastically that it rivaled New Orleans’ below-sea-level position along the Mississippi River. Sighing, Regan shook her head. This pregnancy was so different from the last one, she thought, and immediately regretted the comparison as memories of the miscarriage came flooding back.
Squeezing her eyes shut a moment, Regan pressed a fist against the ache in her heart—an ache that time had dulled but never quite healed. She sucked in a breath and tried to banish the pain that always accompanied thoughts of that sad time in her life. Things were different now, she reminded herself. She was different. She wasn’t a starry-eyed girl unexpectedly pregnant with her lover’s child this time. She was a woman, without any foolish illusions about love. This pregnancy was the result of planning, not passion. And in just over seven months when she held her baby in her arms, she would have everything she wanted, everything she needed.
What about a husband? Someone to share your life with? Someone to be a father to this baby?
Her aunt’s words replayed in Regan’s head, taunting her. Ruthlessly, she shut them off. Aunt Liz was wrong, she assured herself. She didn’t need or want a husband. All she needed was her baby, a child of her own to hold in her arms, to give all the love she had stored in her heart. Patting her tummy, she whispered, “Don’t worry, sweetie. We’ll be just fine. You’ll see. You won’t even miss not having a daddy because I’m going to be the best mommy possible. I promise.”
The wink of diamonds caught her eye, and Regan glanced at the jewelry spread out before her in various stages of completion. Becoming mommy of the year would have to wait a bit longer, she decided. Right now, she had work to do—work that the store desperately needed if she hoped to make the mortgage payment on time this month. Thoughts of the hefty mortgage made her frown, and, not for the first time, Regan wished she had taken a few business courses along with her classes on gem-cutting and grading. Heaven knows she certainly could have used even just a little of what she had once considered the dull business know-how during this past year. But then, she’d had no idea she would ever need to worry about things like fiscal management and market share and interest rates. She certainly had never dreamed that she would find herself in a financial mess and in danger of losing the store that had been in her family for five generations. And while she’d managed to hang on so far, she wasn’t out of the woods by any means. Flicking on the work light, she repositioned the sketch she’d made of a ring, but her thoughts drifted once more to her finances.
You should have told me we were in trouble, Daddy. Why didn’t you at least let me try to help?
But she knew why her father hadn’t told her, Regan admitted. He had been protecting her—as he always did. Anger sparked anew as she recalled the dual shocks of her father’s sudden death and the discovery
