Chapter Fourteen
"Luke!" She yelled.
She pushed past the older woman and crossed the room in two strides. Reaching into the crib, she picked up her sweet little boy and kissed his sweet-smelling head. "It's okay, sweetheart. Mommy's here. Everything's going to be all right."
"What are you doing? He's napping. Put him down." Jane's eyes flashed even in the dark room.
Tears blurred the dim room into a mosaic of shadow. "He's my son."
"You're his mother?" Jane barred the door, threatening despite her small stature and feeble age. "You abandoned him. What kind of woman abandons her own child?"
"Abandoned? He was kidnapped. Stolen from me."
Luke flailed his hands. His cry split the air.
"Now see what you've done?" Jane advanced. Her hands grasped Isabella's arm.
Isabella twisted her body to keep Luke away from her. "Edward!" She yelled.
The crash of the front door flying open shook the little house. Suddenly, Edward was in the room. He grabbed Jane from behind, detaching her grip from Bella and restraining her arms at her sides.
"Let go of me." Jane clawed at his arm. She lunged at Bella, her effort stunted by Edward's hold. She struggled to break free. "This baby belongs with his father. Not with you."
"The baby's father?" Isabella met Edward's eyes.
"James cares more about him than you has provided everything for this baby. You just walked away."
Fury welled inside Bella. She skewered Clara Thompson with a hard stare. "James Timothy Smythe is not this baby's father. Edward is Luke's father. Smythe kidnapped our child."
The woman froze.
"Go, Bella. Now." Edward ordered.
Isabella whirled for the door. Running out of the room and down the hall, she cradled Luke against her, trying not to jostle him. She ran all the way to the car. By the time she reached it, Edward was right behind her. They ducked inside and locked the doors. Edward twisted the key in the ignition and the car sparked to life.
Bella cradled her son in her arms, the most precious thing in her life, and looked straight into Edward's green eyes. "Meet your daddy, Luke."
THE BABY LOOKED UP at Edward from the changing table in his bedroom where Isabella was undressing him. She was right. Luke looked just like him. The spitting image from his bright green eyes, to his crazy bronze hair.
Except for his little bow mouth, so like Bella's.
When Bella had held the baby up to meet him once they were safe in the car, too many emotions to name had surged through Edward. Joy, pride, worry, fear. They had flashed so fast, he couldn't pick one from another. And now, even hours later, he still hadn't been able to sort them out.
He'd always wanted a family, a wife, children. But somewhere deep inside, he never truly believed that kind of happiness was in his reach. But here it was, his own son, looking at him with sparkling, green, innocent eyes.
Tears stung, but he didn't let them fall. He should be happy. Luke was home. The police were out searching for Smythe with a vengeance. And a regular army had been set up outside Bella's house to protect her and Luke. Edward should be enjoying the evening with his baby, reveling in relief that the nightmare was over, planning to get on with his life.
He reached out to touch the tiny mat of hair on his head. His hand dwarfed the little guy's head.
He was so fragile. So vulnerable. So dependent on his parents to take care of him, to not let him down.
Edward's throat constricted. Plenty of responsibility came with raising a baby. Responsibility his own father had shirked. And even though the moment Edward had heard about Luke's existence he'd vowed to live up to that responsibility, he didn't have a clue how to begin.
But God, he wanted to learn.
"It's time for him to eat and go to bed." Bella secured the diaper tape and started clothing the little guy in pajamas sprinkled with yellow bears. Her fingers moved smooth and sure over the baby's clothes, slipping fabric over a limb here, securing a set of snaps there, as if the whole operation was second nature to her. Lifting Luke from the changing table, she looked at Edward and smiled through her drape of chocolate brown hair.
What he wouldn't give to smooth that hair back from her face right now, to caress a silken cheek, to take her and their baby into his arms and never let them go. The wife, the family, the complete package. All within his grasp if he could only reach out and claim them.
"Do you want to play with him for a little while?"
He stuffed his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "He's had a big day. And he's probably hungry. I'll play with him tomorrow."
Bella's cocked her head, an ethereal smile lighting her eyes. "That's right. We have tomorrow, don't we? A lifetime of tomorrows."
Her words cut Edward to the core. A lifetime with Bella and their son. It sounded like heaven. Or more like a fantasy. It couldn't be reality. Not for someone like him – someone who grew up without a real family, without a stable home.
Could it?
Bella's telephone range once, followed b the chirp of her cell phone. A forwarded call.
Smythe.
Bella's eyes rounded and met his. He could almost see the questions poised on her lips, the fear she didn't want to voice.
"It could be the police." He said, trying to make his voice reassuring.
The phone rang again.
"The kitchen." She whispered. "The phone is in my purse."
He ripped his gaze from her face and ran down the hall and the stairs to the kitchen. Bella's purse perched on a counter-top, the phone inside. He pulled it out and hit the button.
"Yes?"
"You shouldn't have messed with me. You should have followed my instructions."
Fury flared inside Edward. "Go to hell, Smythe. It's over. We have the baby."
"I know. Nanny's very upset she lost my son."
Edward gritted his teeth. The thought that Smythe had passed Luke off as his own grated on his nerves like a boot heel on gravel. As, no doubt Smythe knew it would. "It's all over Smythe. We know all about the way you and Jessica used Aro Cohen to smuggle your blood out of prison. The way Jessica paid Rasula to stage the attempted rape."
"So you've been digging, so what? You aren't going to be able to convince my sister to testify against me. What else do you have?"
"The deaths of Rasula and Melbring."
"The way I heard it, the police like you for those murders. At least that's what was all over the evening news."
Edward gritted his teeth. So Jamie Smith had gone ahead with her story. Edward's career as district attorney really was over.
Isabella entered the kitchen. Face pale, she clutched Luke tight, as if afraid Smythe could reach him over the phone lines.
Edward gave her his best imitation of a smile. Some how just looking at her holding their son made sacrificing his career lose its sting.
"Can't think of anything thing else, huh?" Smythe's smug voice snaked into his thoughts. "You forgot that detective. What's his name? Emmett Cullen? Though I understand he hasn't died – yet."
And he wasn't going to. Emmett was growing stronger every day. Not that Smythe needed to know that. "We'll add attempted murder to your charges. Arson, too."
"But where's the evidence?"
"The police have plenty of evidence against you for kidnapping."
"Oh? How can I kidnap my own baby?"
"You might have been able to fool your elderly nanny, but you won't fool anyone else."
"Who's to say he's not min? There's no father listed on the birth certificate. Did you know that? Short of a DNA test, you can't prove the kid is yours, any more than I can, Masen."
"Or we could just make it easy and ask the mother."
"If she's alive to tell the tale."
Rage screamed in Edward's ears anger pounded with each beat of his heart. He was sick to death of James Timothy Smythe. And now that they'd found Luke, he didn't have to play his twisted games anymore. "It's just a matter of time before the police find you, Smythe. The next time I ever see you. I'll be in the witness box testifying about the things you've done."
His laugh grated over the phone line like a string of profanity. "I wouldn't count on them finding me. Not yet. I'm not done with you. And I'm certainly not done with the brunette. You're still in my reach."
"Go to hell, Smythe."
"Been there. But I'd love to give you a tour. Pleasant dreams." The phone line went dead.
Damn. Edward punched off the phone and pounded his fist on the counter top the way he wanted to pound Smythe's smug face.
"What did he say?" Bella searched his face, her skin as white and fragile looking as a tissue.
"The usual. How he's not done with us. How we are still in his reach."
"Are we?"
"I don't see how. The police have this place surrounded."
"And they'll keep it up until he's caught."
"He's getting desperate. Sloppy. They'll catch him soon."
"And if they don't?"
"Then we'll get out and Luke out of town. Somewhere Smythe can't find you." As the words left his lips, emptiness ached in his chest.
"I don't want to leave, Edward. I want to stay here. With you."
He knew how she felt. Knew if far to well. And he didn't want to stay with her for a night or a week or a month. He wanted to believe he could live in the fantasy for the rest of his days.
If only his past and James Timothy Smythe would let him.
Isabella stopped at the entrance of the living room. The room was dark, but she knew Edward was inside. Pausing a moment to let her eyes adjust, she spotted him. He stood at the front window. Holding a section of sheers aside with one hand, he stared into the darkness outside. Tension hardened his shoulders, visible even under the crumpled dress shirt.
She wanted to slip behind him and massage the hard muscles. She wanted to feel the warmth of his skin under the crisp cotton, the knotted muscles slowly succumbing to her fingers. She wanted to lose herself in the masculine scent of him, so close, so real.
While Luke was in Smythe's hands, she hadn't been able to think of anything but finding him, of holding him close again, of ensuring his safety. But now that he was safe in his bed, thoughts and feelings swirled within her life dangerous currents.
She wasn't worried about Smythe and his threats. Not really. Edward had reassured her that he would never be able to get past the police outside. No, she was more worried about herself. And her feelings s for Edward.
Since Edward had written her off fifteen long months ago, she'd focused on putting herself back together and protecting herself from ever being hurt again. But in the past few days, she'd forgotten what she was protecting.
Taking a deep breath of courage, she stepped into the room and crossed the plush carpet. Although Edward didn't glance back from his vigil, he knew she was there. She could hear it in the speeding of his breathing pattern and feel it in the charged air.
"Did you get the baby to bed?"
It was such an innocent question, a natural question, yet the low rumble of his voice caused a warm stirring in the pit of her stomach. "He was tired. He went to sleep before he finished nursing."
He nodded, the light from the hallway glinting in the bronze of his hair.
Bella stepped toward him as if pulled by a force she couldn't control. Stopping behind him, she slipped her hands on either side of his neck and began to knead the hard muscle with her fingers.
He held up a hand. "Bella, don't."
She stopped kneading, but left her hands in place soaking up the heat through his wrinkled shirt. "Sorry, you just look so tense."
Slowly he turned to face her. A crease formed between his penetrating green eyes and tiny lines rimmed his lips. The hall light reflected off his glasses, hiding his eyes.
But she didn't need to see his eyes to know what he was feeling. It was the same thing she was feeling. The yearning, the heat she'd seen rekindle in his eyes over the past few days. The passion she'd felt in his kiss after they'd escaped the fire. She dropped her hands to her sides.
"You're right. I am tense."
"Why?"
He looked away from her. "I don't know. Smythe's call I guess."
"You said that even if he was obsessed enough to try something, he wouldn't get past the police outside."
"He won't."
"Then we're safe, aren't we? And Luke is safe, too."
He looked back into her eyes. "Yes. We're safe from Smythe."
She said nothing. She didn't know what else to say. They both knew where danger lay. And it wasn't somewhere outside her house. It was here. In this room. And it stretched between them like a minefield.
"You're really good with Luke, you know. A natural mother."
"Thank you. It wasn't always easy." As soon as the words left her lips, she wanted to take them back. He'd take them the wrong way. He'd blame himself. "But it was always worth it. I'm just glad I can finally share him with you."
He lips curled in a solemn smile. "It's amazing."
"What is?"
"That the two of us created him. It's a miracle."
She nodded, unsure her voice would function. In the long months she carried Luke inside her, she'd often dreamed of Edward saying something like this to her. That their baby was a miracle, that he was the culmination of their love. And in her imagination he'd always followed that pronouncement by asking her to come back to him, to marry him so the three of them could be a real family.
"I miss you, Edward."
A muscle flexed along his jaw. "Don't go there, Bella. Please."
She shook her head. As much as she wanted to do as eh asked to stay safe and avoid her feelings, to bury them in the ground until they turned to dust, she couldn't. "I know you can't forgive me. I know you can't promise me anything. But I see the look in your eyes, Edward. And you want the same things I do. The things we always used to want."
He took a step away from her, as if he was going to pace across the room. But he didn't take the next step. "Hell, Bella., there's nothing to forgive. But as much as I want to. I can't go back."
"I don't want to go back, either. I want to go forward, if we can. I want to give us a chance. A chance we never really had before."
"Never really had?"
She bit her bottom lip. How could she explain her feelings to him? The uneasiness of never being certain where she stood? The fear that one day he'd write her off for something she'd never foreseen? "Even when we were happy, I was never sure where I stood with you. I always felt that I had to watch every step I took or you'd write me off."
"Like I wrote you off when you sided with your father.
"Exactly. Being with you was like walking a tightrope. And I never knew my feet had slipped from the rope until I was on my way to floor of the big top and you'd stopped loving me."
His eyes flashed and he gripped my shoulder looking straight into my eyes. "Isabella. I never.. ever stopped loving you."
A chill shook her from the inside out.
"I just couldn't let myself show it. I couldn't let myself take you back."
"Like your mother took your father back?"
He shook his head. "Like I took my father back. It wasn't just mymother who forgave him. I wanted him to be the man he should have been. I never gave up wanting that. I never gave up believing in him. And I know damn well that was the main reason my mother stayed with him. She didn't want to disappoint me."
A chill climbed up Bella's spine. She reached for Edward's hand, "You were a kid, Edward. You can't take that kind of responsibility on yourself."
"It's the truth. I may not have caused my mother's death, but I did contribute to it. My dreams and fantasies of having a father contributed to it. And as a result, I lost both her and my father for good."
The pain in his eyes stole her breath. She swallowed into a raw throat.
His fingers closed around hers and squeezed. "It's not that I can't trust you. I can't trust that what I'm feeling is real and not just the way I want things to be. And I can't risk hurting you if I'm wrong."
"What I feel is real, Edward. I love you."
Reaching a hand to her face, he traced her jaw with a feather touch, stopping when he reached her lips. "I'm sure what you feel is real. But then you've always been much more sure of yourself. You've always known what you want out of life."
"I wanted you, Edward.. All of you. Forever. Without reservations. And it's what I want now."
He shook his head. "I don't know if I can give you that."
She looked into his eyes, so tortured, so sad. Maybe he was right. Maybe he couldn't give her what she wanted, what she needed. Maybe she would never be sure of his love, never be sure he would stay with her, that she would never be alone again. Maybe he would leave her heartbroken and battered.
But none of it mattered.
"I love you, Edward. And I want you. If that means we can only be together for a night or a week or an hour, so be it."
She took a breath and looked straight at him.
"I'll take it and feel like the luckiest woman on earth."