A Winter's Rose (22 page)

He cupped her face in his palms. “I was so afraid of losing you. And I was so sure I would. I told myself, and you, that I only cared about the baby. That was a lie, a way of explaining my feelings without having to face the truth.” He ran his fingers over her face. “I love you, Bentley Cunningham. I believe in you. I want to marry you…for you.”

Bentley laughed and drew his face to hers. Their lips met in a lingering kiss. When she pulled away, her cheeks were wet with happiness. She smiled through her tears. “I was so afraid I'd lost you,” she whispered. “So certain I had no choice but to go on without you.”

“But you would have, Bentley. You're strong. Like the flower that blooms despite the cold.”

“I love you so much, Jackson.”

“And I you.”

He kissed her again, this time deeply and with all his heart.

Epilogue

“A
re you sure you want to do this?” Jackson asked as they stepped off the elevator and onto the Houston Galleria's second level.

Bentley glanced down at the gift box in her hands. Inside, nestled carefully in layers of tissue paper, rested her music box. She looked at her husband. “Yes. I'm sure.”

He shook his head and followed her lead, turning to the right. “Mind telling me why? You love it.”

Bentley angled a smile at him. “You're going to think it's silly.”

“Try me.”

“I have this feeling that somebody else needs a miracle.”

“A miracle?” he repeated, lifting his eyebrows in question.

“I told you it sounded silly.” She motioned with the box. “You'll understand more when you see the store. It's in the corner, over there.”

Moments later they reached Small Miracles, and Bentley caught her breath. A banner announcing a Going Out of Business Sale was draped across the front window. A Closed sign hung in the door.

“Oh, no,” Bentley murmured, moving up to the window and peeking inside. The lights were on, and she thought she saw someone moving around in back. She tapped on the glass and a second later Marla appeared at the door.

“Well, hi, sugar. I was wondering when you'd be comin' around.” She swung the door wider, smiling broadly at Jackson. “My, you're a big one. You must be the new husband.”

“He is,” Bentley said. “But how did you…?”

“Know you'd gotten married?” The pixie woman laughed and motioned to the shiny gold band on Bentley's left hand. “You weren't wearing that before. Come on in.”

Inside, Bentley moved her gaze around the dismantled shop. “I'm sorry about your business,” she murmured sympathetically. “You had some lovely things.”

“Heck, don't be sorry. I'm moving because I want to.” Marla slipped her hands into the front pockets of her dusty Levi's. “I'm going to New Orleans. There're some folks over there in need of a miracle.”

Jackson's mouth dropped, and the pixie woman laughed. “Marla's Small Miracles. Get it?”

Bentley smiled at Jackson's expression. “I said almost that same thing. Which is really the reason I'm here. I want to sell you back my music box.”

Marla eyed the gift box, pursing her lips. “It's usually the other way around, sugar. You're supposed to buy things from me.”

Bentley's smile faded. “I know. But what you said about miracles…I have the feeling this is the right thing to do.”

“Well, since you put it like that—” Marla narrowed her eyes speculatively. “I'll give you seven-fifty for it.”

“I paid fifteen hundred.”

“I've got overhead.” Marla patted her fire-red curls. “Miracles don't come cheap, you know.”

That they didn't, Bentley thought, looking at Jackson, happiness washing over her until she was liquid with it.

He was going to think she had lost her mind. And maybe she had. She held out the box and smiled. “It's a deal.”

Marla grinned. “I've got cash in my deposit bag. I'll be right back.”

After the other woman had disappeared into the storeroom, Bentley lifted her face to Jackson's. “Isn't she great?”

Jackson arched his eyebrows in disbelief. “Bentley…darling…she's a little weird. This whole place is a little weird.” Cupping her face in his palms, he grinned at her. “Not to mention the fact she took you to the cleaners. You could have held out for more.”

“How could I?” she whispered. “I already have everything.”

“Ah, Bentley…” He lowered his mouth to hers in a lingering kiss.

“It's nice to see folks so happy,” Marla said, coming up behind them. “In fact, it's what I live for. Here you go.” She handed Bentley an envelope. “If ya'll are ever in New Orleans, look me up.”

“We will,” Bentley murmured, tucking the envelope in her handbag as Marla walked them to the door. After another goodbye, she and Jackson stepped out into the mall and started for the elevator.

“By the way,” Marla called, poking her head out the shop door. “Congratulations.”

Bentley looked at the woman. “What?”

“The baby.” The little woman grinned. “And, sugar, don't you worry about a thing, you're going to be a terrific mother.”

Startled, Bentley looked at Jackson, then at her still-flat abdomen. When she glanced at the shop, Marla was gone. “But, how did she know?”

“It was a guess,” Jackson murmured, slipping his arm around her.

“You think so?”

“What else?”

Bentley shook her head at the wild what elses rampaging through her. “You're right, of course. A guess.”

He laid an arm across her shoulders. “Sure.”

“Or maybe it was my feet that tipped her off.” At Jackson's arch look, she laughed. “Jill told me that as soon as a woman gets pregnant, her feet start to turn out. Like a duck's.”

Jackson gave a hoot of laughter. “I presume, to more efficiently waddle in the ninth month of pregnancy.” He hugged her tighter. “I like the guess theory better.”

“Not looking forward to watching me waddle, huh?”

Stopping, Jackson turned her to face him. He cupped her cheeks in his palms, his expression serious. “Princess, I'm looking forward to watching everything you do, including growing old. I love you.”

Bentley lifted her face to his. “Oh, Jackson…I love you, too.”

* * * * *

A Note from the Author

W
hen my editor told me
A Winter's Rose
and my heroine Bentley had been chosen to be part of the That Special Woman! promotion, I was thrilled. A celebration of womanhood—what a wonderful thing to be a part of.

And how appropriate. After all, at the heart of every romance novel is its heroine. A strong, courageous yet vulnerable woman, one who beats the odds, no matter how bad they are, and in the end finds happiness, not only with her man, but with herself.

My Bentley is just such a heroine. She appears to have it all—looks, social status and wealth. But in fact, her appearance is a beautiful facade that hides an insecure and hurting woman, a woman who has faced what many of us face every day in the real world: prejudice, indifference, cruelty. Bentley overcomes. She finds her inner well of strength, she learns to believe in herself. In the end she sees just how special she is.

I believe every one of my heroine's is special. Just as I believe every woman is special. Thank you, dear readers, for celebrating womanhood with me and Silhouette Special Edition this month and every month.

Yours,
Erica Spindler

“Thayne's a true expert at writing contemporary holiday romance.”
—RT Book Review

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ISBN: 9781460394120

A Winter's Rose

Copyright © 1993 Erica Spindler

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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