Borrowed Dreams (Debbie Macomber Classics) Read online

  “I don’t accept that. You’re my wife and I won’t let you go.”

  “You’ll have to,” she said gently, hating the emotion that moistened her eyes. “It isn’t in me to let Shawn and Sara arrive feeling the way I do.”

  “They’re coming, and there’s nothing that can be done about it now.” Frustration thinned his mouth. Her heart cried in anguish, but for a moment no sound came from the tight muscles of her throat.

  “Do you think I enjoy feeling like this?” she cried. “I’d give anything to be different. Shawn and Sara are beautiful, warm children. But they’re Sandra’s children.”

  “They’re our children,” he returned.

  “Then why do I see Sandra every time I look at them?”

  “Because that’s all your self-pity allows you to see. If you’d look past your own insecurities, you’d recognize how much they want and need you. All three of us do, Carly.” The desperate edge to his voice was painful to listen to. “Sandra has nothing to do with us,” he said in a pleading voice.

  “Then you can’t recognize what’s right in front of your eyes,” she whispered, fighting back the emotion. “What makes you so uncomfortable about me learning to fly?”

  Dark eyes narrowed harshly. “It’s dangerous, and any one of a hundred things could happen—”

  “And I could be killed,” she finished for him. “Sandra died and you’re afraid I will, too.”

  “All right,” he shouted. “But what’s wrong with being cautious? If I lost you, it’d kill me. If you blame Sandra for that, you’re right.”

  “But where does it stop? Will you be afraid to let me climb or hike or anything else?” She didn’t wait for him to respond. “I’m my own person and there will be lots of things I’m going to try.”

  “I just don’t want you to do anything dangerous.”

  Carly fought to remain outwardly calm and controlled, but the battle was a losing one. “Because of Sandra,” she said

  “Okay, you’re right. I’ve already lost one wife.”

  “Brand,” she murmured softly, “I can’t take that kind of protective suffocation.”

  He began pacing the floor, clenching and unclenching his fists. Irritation and bewilderment produced a deep frown in him, but when he spoke his voice displayed no emotion. “I think I knew this was coming,” he murmured, his voice thick with resignation. “You haven’t been the same since we got back from Portland.”

  “Your mother is a very perceptive woman. She knew instantly that I wasn’t the right kind of wife for you. And certainly not the kind of mother Shawn and Sara need.”

  “My mother knows nothing.” Brand hurled the words at her. He turned and stormed across the room, dressing quickly. His hand was already on the doorknob when he paused and turned to Carly. “And you know nothing. Go ahead and run. See how far you get. I won’t let go of you, Carly. You’re my wife, and I intend to stay married to you the rest of my life.” He left then, leaving Carly standing at the window feeling more wretched and miserable than she could ever remember.

  * * *

  The remainder of their honeymoon was a nightmare for Carly. They barely spoke to each other, and when they did, it was in stilted, abrupt sentences.

  On the flight back to Anchorage, neither of them said a word. The lush green beauty of the world below was overshadowed by the heaviness in their hearts.

  Brand carried their suitcases inside the door. Silently, he lugged Carly’s luggage into the bedroom while she shuffled through the mail and noted that there was a long letter from Jutta. They corresponded often now. Carly felt she had gained a valued friend in the older woman. From that first stilted meeting at the correctional center, their relationship had flowered through the mail. Carly was often surprised at how articulate Jutta could be. She was often insightful and wise.

  Brand hadn’t said a word as they’d arrived home. She tried to remain unaffected by his attitude, but she was having trouble succeeding. He’d been cold and distant since that first morning. Not that she blamed him.

  Brand sat on the sofa, and when Carly chanced a glance at him, she noted the deeply grooved sadness in his eyes. Part of her yearned to go to him and erase the tension. She’d give anything to be different. Then he raised his gaze to hers and their dark eyes clashed. His narrowed and hardened, as if anticipating a battle. Rising, he moved to his luggage. “I’m going to the house. Until you’ve settled things within yourself, I’ll be there.”

  “Maybe … maybe that would be for the best,” she said evenly. “What about the children? They’ll be arriving soon.”

  A thick brow quirked with mockery. “Why should you care?”

  “Because it’s only natural that I do. It wouldn’t be fair for them—”

  “Can’t you accept them for who they are?” Brand demanded suddenly, cutting her off.

  Carly went white. “Don’t you realize how miserable I am over this whole situation?” she cried. “This horrible guilt is eating me alive.” Somehow she realized that no amount of arguing would adequately explain her feelings. Nothing she could say would help him understand.

  Brand bent down and picked up his suitcase. His face darkened. “I have two beautiful children. I’m tired of making excuses for them. And yes,” he said, inhaling sharply, “they look exactly like Sandra.”

  Shock froze her for an instant at the deliberate pain he was inflicting. “You don’t need to make excuses for Shawn and Sara,” she said, “you just don’t understand what—”

  “You’re right,” he interrupted. “I don’t understand.” He turned, and a moment later the front door slammed shut.

  Stunned, Carly stood as she was for what seemed an eternity. The hand she ran over her face was shaking uncontrollably. Brand was right, so very right. He should never apologize for children like Shawn and Sara. She moved into the kitchen and put hot water on to boil for coffee. Standing at the counter, her fingers gripped the edge until she felt one long nail give way under the punishing pressure.

  * * *

  “Carly, what’s wrong? You never phone this late unless it’s important.”

  “Nothing,” Carly lied on a falsely cheerful note. “I’m just calling to see if you’re pregnant yet.”

  Diana laughed with the free-flowing happiness that had echoed in her voice from the moment she’d announced that she was going to marry Barney. “Not yet. But not from lack of trying. What about you and Brand?”

  “No.” The strangled sound was barely recognizable.

  A short silence followed. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

  Carly choked on a sob. “It’s not going to work with Brand and me.”

  “What do you mean it’s not going to work?” Diana sounded incredulous.

  “We aren’t living together anymore. Brand moved into the house this weekend. I’m still here at my apartment.” Holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder, Carly wiped the tears from her face with both hands. Tilting her head back, she stared blankly at the ceiling light. “I’ve gone over it a thousand times in my mind. I should never have married him. I can’t be the right kind of mother for his children.”

  “Sweetie, hold on,” Diana said softly in the motherly tone Carly alternately loved and hated. But she needed it now more than she ever had in her life. “You haven’t been married a month. Even my first two marriages lasted longer than that. If you love him and Brand loves you, then things will work themselves out. Trust me.”

  Attempting a laugh that failed miserably, Carly sniffled. “I wish it was that easy.”

  “Listen, sweetie, it’s plain to me that we aren’t going to be able to settle this over the phone. I’ve been looking for an excuse to visit you …”

  “Diana—no. You can’t do that,” Carly said urgently, and sniffled again.

  “Wild moose won’t keep me away. I’ll let you know later when my plane’s scheduled to arrive.”

  Carly tried to argue Diana out of a wasted trip. But her friend wasn’t going to
be able to do or say anything to change her determination. In the end Carly resigned herself to the fact that once Diana had made up her mind about something, it would take more than a few words to change it.

  A half hour after talking to Diana, Carly parked her car in the driveway behind Brand’s. Her fingers clenched unmercifully around the steering wheel as she gathered her resolve.

  The first knock against the door was tentative.

  “Come in.”

  Brand was painting the living room. Newspapers littered the carpet as he spread the antique-white latex color along the neglected walls. Carly recalled choosing this shade for its brightening effect. His roller hardly paused as Carly walked through the door.

  “What do you want?”

  She died a little at the unfriendly tone of his voice. “I thought I should help. It’s … it’s only right.” Every day brought them closer to the time when Shawn and Sara would be arriving.

  “What’s right is having you live in this house with me as my wife,” Brand returned. “If you want to do anything to help, then do that.”

  “I … I can’t.”

  Brand didn’t even hesitate. “Then go.”

  Shocked, Carly stood frozen, unable to move.

  “Go,” he repeated.

  Hanging her head, Carly closed her eyes. “I know how irrational I seem,” she said in a voice that was barely above a whisper. “And I realize you must be having a hard time believing this, but I love you.”

  Brand’s grunt was filled with amusement. “Sure you do. If telling yourself that helps soothe your conscience, you keep right on believing it.”

  “Can’t we talk without fighting anymore?” she asked in a tired voice.

  Brand tipped his head to one side and arched his thick brows mockingly. “I don’t know—can we?”

  Carly bristled. She wouldn’t be provoked into an argument, and that was clearly what Brand wanted. “Are you going to answer every one of my questions with one of your own?”

  “Why not?” Brand was unhesitating. “I’ve been facing lots of questions lately.”

  The blood drained from her face so fast Carly thought she might faint. Every foster home, every family she’d ever known, had been the same. Just when it seemed that she had finally found a place where she belonged—where she could fit in with a family—it would happen. Something would come about and she’d be sent away. Then everything she had worked to build up would be washed out from under her and she’d be forced to start again. She didn’t want it to happen this time. She desperately wanted things to work out. But already Brand was willing to send her out of his life.

  With her hands folded primly in front of her, Carly watched him silently as he worked. Even strokes spread the paint across the flat surface. Finally, she gathered enough courage to begin again.

  “Diana’s coming.”

  Brand paused in the middle of a downward sweep of the roller and turned around. “Are you running back to Seattle?”

  “No.” The thought of leaving Brand and the children was intolerable. “She’s coming because she wants to talk some sense into me.”

  Brand turned back to the wall. “I wish her luck. Heaven knows I’ve tried.”

  “Don’t you think I know how unreasonable I sound?” Carly shot back angrily. “But it’s not reason I feel. It’s emotion. Is it so wrong to want to be a man’s first wife? If that makes me sound selfish and childish, then I agree—that’s exactly what I am. All my life I’ve accepted someone else’s leftovers. It’s the one thing—the only thing—I didn’t want in a husband.”

  If she expected a reaction from Brand, he gave her none. With his back to her, he continued painting. Carly stood the grating silence as long as she could, then moved to the bedroom that was to be Sara’s. Brand had already finished painting it a lovely shade of pink, but the windows were bare, as were those in the freshly painted blue bedroom across the hall. Everything was ready for Shawn and Sara. Everything except Carly.

  * * *

  Diana arrived two days later. Carly met her at the airport and hugged her tightly, holding back the tears.

  “Good grief, you look terrible.”

  “That’s what you said the last time you saw me,” Carly admonished. Heaven knew she couldn’t look any worse than she felt. “I don’t suppose Barney was thrilled to have you come.”

  “Barney sends his love. Don’t worry about him.” Diana put her arm around Carly’s waist. “Now, let’s get out of here before you burst into tears in the airport.”

  Carly felt she was ready to do exactly that. She hadn’t seen Brand in two days. If she wasn’t running, he was. Twice she’d gone over to the house, and both times he was nowhere to be seen. No doubt he was in the air, working twice as many hours as any other pilot.

  She doubted that he even knew or cared that she’d been to the house. On her first visit, she’d put up Priscilla curtains in Sara’s room and made up her new bed with percale sheets printed with cartoon characters. The choice for Shawn’s room hadn’t been as easy, but she’d chosen drapes with Star Wars figures and a matching bedspread.

  In her wanderings around the house, Carly had avoided the bedroom she’d once shared with Brand but had ventured into the kitchen. Neatly washed dishes were stacked on the counter to dry. Brand’s efficiency reminded her that he didn’t need her to keep his home. He would be fine without her.

  “It really is lovely in this part of the world,” Diana was saying, as Carly’s thoughts turned from Brand.

  “I told you it was.” Her words sounded weak and emotionless, even to her own ears.

  When they arrived at the apartment Carly put on water for coffee. Her shoulders drooped as she closed her eyes and pressed her lips together.

  “Are you sure you’re not pregnant?” Diana asked softly. “I can’t remember you ever being so pale.”

  A cold feeling washed over her. For one crazy second she was completely torn. One part of her felt a rush of excitement, while another experienced a deep sense of dread. Adding a child to this situation would only complicate their problems.

  “Carly?” Diana prompted her gently.

  “No,” she said, and swallowed. “There’s no possibility of that.” She brought down two ceramic mugs from the cupboard and added the dark coffee crystals. When the teapot whistled, she poured the liquid into the mugs. All of her movements were automatic.

  As she delivered the steaming coffee to the kitchen table, Diana’s eyes studied her carefully. “I’ve known you from the time you were an adolescent, Carly. I’ve witnessed these inner struggles of yours for years.” Her hand reached across the table and patted Carly’s. “Sweetie, isn’t it time to bury the hurts of the past and move on?” Her wide-eyed gaze sought Carly’s colorless face.

  With her head bowed, Carly stared into the dark liquid. “He loved her so much.” Her voice was trembling.

  “But now Brand loves you.”

  “He still loves her, and she’s standing between us like a steel wedge.”

  “Only because you see it that way. Won’t you give Brand the right to have loved Sandra?

  He shared lots of years with her, and lots of memories. Are you trying to take that away from him, too?”

  “Too?”

  “He thinks that what you want is for him to give up his children,” Diana declared with a faint note of censure.

  “How could he think that?” she asked forcefully. “I’d never, never ask Brand to do anything of the sort—”

  “But he doesn’t know that.”

  Suspicions mounted within Carly. Diana seemed to know far too much about Brand’s thoughts to be guessing. “How do you know all this? This has got to be more than speculation on your part.”

  Diana’s gaze didn’t flicker. “I talked to him a while ago.”

  “When?” Carly demanded in a shocked tone.

  “Right after I talked to you. He phoned me, Carly. You’ve got him so twisted up inside he doesn’t know what to do. He loves you, b
ut he loves his children, too. Brand seems to think that if he were to have one of his brothers raise Shawn and Sara, then you’d be satisfied.”

  Carly’s widened gaze sought Diana’s face as an icy chill attacked her heart. “That’s not it.”

  “I tried to assure him it wasn’t.”

  The palms of her hands cradled the hot mug until her flesh felt hot and uncomfortable. “What’s wrong with me, Diana? Why am I like this?” Tears clouded her vision. “Why can’t I thank God that someone as wonderful as Brand loves me?”

  “I don’t know, sweetie. I don’t know.” Carly’s sadness was echoed in Diana’s low voice.

  * * *

  Carly paced her bedroom floor that night, unable to sleep. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten a decent meal. Diana had been adamant. She seemed to think that a ready-made family was just the thing Carly needed. Carly had almost laughed. A family, this family, terrified her. She couldn’t take Sandra away from the children, and she couldn’t separate the children from Brand. There was no solution.

  Diana was up before Carly the next morning. “How’d you sleep?” she asked.

  “Fine,” Carly lied. Exhaustion reduced her voice to a breathless whisper.

  “Little liar,” Diana murmured.

  Carly went into the bathroom, avoiding her friend as she dressed for work. The sound of frying bacon filled the small apartment and Carly had no sooner vacated the bathroom when Diana came rushing in, looking pale and sickly.

  Surprised, Carly watched as her friend lost her breakfast. When Diana was finished, Carly handed her a wet washcloth. “You okay?” she asked with a worried expression.

  Diana took a couple deep breaths. “I’m wonderful.”

  “You are pregnant!”

  “I guess so. I had my suspicions, but I wasn’t sure.” She laughed lightly. “But I am now.”