“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.”
She turned her face up to his, searching his eyes. “Honest?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die.”
At the words, the tension in her dissolved and she relaxed against him. He used the opportunity to wrap his arms around her. Then he put his lips close to her ear. “So,” he whispered softly, “I’m asking my question yet again. My dearest Meg, will you marry me?”
She slid her arms around his waist and hugged him tight. “Yes,” she said, and the word came out in a little sob. “Yes, I’ll marry you, Drake Duncan. I’ve loved you for too long to let you go. I want to be your wife and the mother of your child.”
He let out a deep sigh and leaned down to softly kiss her lips. “I’ll go get Jessie,” he said with a smile filled with love. “Time to give her the good news.”
And as he turned to get up off the bed he saw little Jessie standing in the doorway, a glass of water in her hand. And she was beaming.
EPILOGUE
The strains of 'I'll be home for Christmas' faded away and then Meg's all-time favorite came on, Bing Crosby's rendition of 'White Christmas'. He was the ultimate crooner as far as she was concerned. This was her favorite time of year and she just could not get enough of the Christmas carols.
In less than twenty-four hours it would be Christmas Day and she could hardly wait. With a sigh she sank deeper into the rocking chair and as Bing Crosby crooned the words to the beloved carol she looked down into the angelic face of her newborn son, Drake Duncan II.
He was the perfect Christmas gift, born just two weeks earlier, a seven pounder. He was going to be tall like his father. She could see it in the length of his little legs. And he would be just as handsome. He was the most beautiful baby she had ever seen. Next to Jessie, of course.
"Can I hold him, Mommy?"
Meg looked up as her daughter walked into the sitting room, looking so serious and big-sisterly. At six years old she now considered herself a big girl and more than capable of caring for her brand new brother. "I'll let you hold him," Meg said, "if you sit on that cushion on the floor and you stay very still. Can you do that?"
"Of course, Mommy. I know how to hold Drake. I've done it before."
Meg raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And when was that?"
"Daddy let me hold him when you were sleeping," she began then she bit her lip and her eyes grew round. "Are you mad?"
Meg gave her a soft smile as she settled onto the cushion. "No, Jessie, I'm not mad." She got out of the rocker and went to lay the baby gently in Jessie's arms. "But I do need to speak to your daddy. Where is he?"
"Right here, sweetheart." The deep voice came from the doorway and when she looked up there stood her husband of seven months, looking so handsome in a black turtle neck sweater that showed off his muscled frame.
She raised an eyebrow. "And what happened to the Christmas tree sweater your mother sent?"