She nodded and the worried look on her face began to disappear. She gave him a little smile, not her usual bright smile, but it was a start. She reached out and took his hand then began to pull him into the house. He barely had time to push the front door shut behind him before she was pulling him down the hallway and toward the stairs.
But as anxious as she was, she was still not moving fast enough for Drake. He lifted the little girl into his arms and took the stairs two at a time.
When they got to the landing she pointed to the first door. “That’s Mommy’s room.”
Drake set Jessie gently on her feet then stepped toward the door, which was slightly ajar. He gave a quick tap and was listening for Meg’s response when Jessie bounded forward and flung the door open. “Mommy, Drake’s here,” she yelled and ran toward the bed which was now visible to Drake as he stood in the doorway.
There, propped up on the pillows, was Meg. And although she gave him a brave smile he could see she was exhausted. When Jessie ran up and bounced onto the bed she winced and put a hand to her forehead, in obvious discomfort. Immediately he went to her, the icy fingers of fear encircling his heart. Oh, God, please don’t let it be what I think it is.
As he went to stand by the bed Drake saw how flushed Meg was, but while her face was pink there was a paleness to her lips that was not normal for her. Those lips were the first things he’d admired about her, full and ruby red. Now all that color was gone. The dark shadows around her eyes told him she hadn’t been sleeping well.
“Meg,” he said, his voice sharp with reproach, “why didn’t you call me? Why are you here, sick and all alone?” He leaned toward her. “I would have come. You know that.”
“I’m fine, Drake. It’s no big deal.” But her tired eyes made a lie of what she’d just said.
“No, it’s not fine. You’re not fine.” He folded his arms across his chest. “I’m disappointed in you, Meg.”
She’d looked sick before but now she also looked defiant. “Disappointed about what?”
“That you didn’t feel that you could trust me enough with your secret."
She gasped. “What secret?”
He glanced over at Jessie who wasn’t paying too much attention to their conversation. She was playing with her doll and seemed absorbed in that for the moment. He cleared his throat. “May I talk to you in private, Meg?”
She stared up at him, her eyes full of suspicion. Then, never taking her eyes off him, she said, “Jessie, honey, can you go down and get me a glass of water, please?”
“Okay, Mommy.” The child hopped off the bed and ran toward the door.
As soon as she was through it Drake turned his attention back to Meg. “I…didn’t want to ask this in front of Jessie but I have to know. Meg, please be honest with me. Are you on chemo?”
“Chemo?” Her eyes widened in obvious shock as she said the words.
“Yes.” His shoulders slumped and he shoved his hands deep into his pockets. He shook his head. There was no gentle way to say this. “Do you have cancer, Meg?”
“Cancer?” Her voice came out indignant and strong, not what he’d expected. “Why would you ask such a thing?”
He frowned, confused. “The nausea, being sick in the bathroom. Jessie told me about it and I thought-”
“Well, you thought wrong.” She was glaring at him now.
“But…what’s wrong, then. Was it something you ate?”
“No, Drake, it wasn’t something I ate.” Her voice was exasperated now. Then she fixed him with a withering look. “You hear that I’m nauseous and sick to my stomach and the first thing that comes to your mind is cancer?”
Nauseous. Sick to her stomach. Drake’s jaw went slack and his brows shot up as he stared at Meg. “Are you…pregnant?”
She gave him a look that said, “Finally, you idiot,” then she pursed her lips and looked away, not seeming at all pleased. Didn’t she want his baby?
But in the middle of that thought, realizing that Meg was in fact cancer-free, relief washed over him. He’d never in his life been so happy to be wrong.
“Meg,” he whispered, “you’re expecting my child?” He had to hear it from her mouth.
“Yes.” Her voice was a mere whisper and the look she gave him was full of apprehension.
He stepped forward, his heart almost bursting with his love for her. “You know what this means, don’t you?”
Eyes huge in her distress, she shook her head slowly.
“It means, my dear Meg, that you will have to marry me."
She looked taken aback, her eyes huge in her face. “Marry me? You still want to marry me?”
“Now, more than ever,” he said, and there was not an ounce of doubt in him. “I asked you to marry me months ago and I’m asking you again now. Will you marry me, Meg? I want you to be my wife. I want to be a father to my child.” Then, as she still stared up at him, a look of disbelief on her face, he said, “And I want to be a father to Jessie as well. Will you let me?”
That got a reaction from Meg, not the romantic one he was expecting where she flung her arms around his neck and cried, “I do, I do.” She sat up in the bed and folded her arms across her chest. “So you’re not angry with me?” she demanded.
“Angry? I’m over the moon. Why would I be angry about the best thing that could ever happen to me?”
Still looking unconvinced, she cocked her head to one side. “So you’re not mad that I told you I wouldn’t get pregnant because I was on the pill, and then still got pregnant anyway?”
Now it was his turn to sound exasperated. “No, Meg, why should I?”
“But you told me about that woman who tried to use a pregnancy to trap you-”
“That was a made-up pregnancy, just something she came up with to get me down the aisle. But in your case,” he sat on the bed and drew her into his arms, “I was the one trying to draw you to the altar.” Then he chuckled. “You silly woman, I already asked you to marry me, or did you forget? Could I want to marry you and then be upset that you’re carrying my child? You don’t understand, Meg. This is the happiest day of my life.”