Expecting his child(23)

Noah pulled to a stop in front of a building under construction. "Let's take a look," he said, and helped her out of the truck.

The spacious two-story building boasted a large number of windows and an  elegant, but casual Southwestern-style exterior. Walking through the  front doorway, she nodded at all the light from the windows. Martina had  always preferred plenty of light in her living quarters.

"It's lovely," she said. "What is it going to be?"

"It was originally going to house a new office, but plans change," he said thoughtfully. "Come upstairs."                       
       
           



       

They climbed the stairs to the second level, which boasted five rooms  and large closets. Two of the rooms featured skylights with shades. Noah  led her into one of the smaller rooms. "I thought this could be the  nursery. When I found out about the baby, I wanted to make a place for  both of you here."

Martina's heart stopped. "Oh, Noah, I can't. I  …  I … "

He pressed a fingertip to her lips. "You can stay and you can go. It  won't change what's between us. If we didn't lose it when you left  Chicago and stayed away all those months, it's not going to disappear  now, no matter how hard you may want it to." He stroked her cheek and  held her gaze. "No matter how inconvenient and scary it is for you, I'm  not going anywhere."

His words cut through her confusion with sword-like precision. But Noah  didn't understand the war going on inside her, jerking her from one side  to the other. "I still need to leave," she said in a voice that  trembled, despite her best intentions.

"Okay," he said. "Let's go back to the house." They rode in silence and  Martina's tension grew with each breath she took. When they arrived, she  noticed an unfamiliar car parked in front of the house. "Visitor?"

"Yep," he said, but didn't explain.

Lost in a sea of conflicting emotions, Martina got out of the truck and  went back into the house with the intention of quickly gathering her  belongings so she could leave.

Patch met them in the hall with a broad grin. "Delivery was made and your guest is in the den chatting with Jonathan."

"Good," Noah said, and glanced in the living room. He chuckled.

Curious, Martina peeked into the room. "What was the deliv-" She gasped  in shock when she saw a baby grand in the middle of the room.  "Omigoodness!"

"Yeah, those suckers are pretty big considering they're called babies,"  Noah said. He glanced carefully at Martina. "What do you think of it?"

Surprised, she walked closer to the piano and shook her head. "It's beautiful. Just beautiful. I didn't know you played."

"I don't," he said, his jaw ticking with discomfort. "But I thought if  you wanted to learn, it would be nice to have one available."

Overwhelmed, she gaped at him. "You bought this for me?"

He shrugged and leaned over to touch one of the ivory keys. "I thought  it might be a way to make you feel a little closer to your mother."

Martina's chest filled with emotion. Her eyes burned with tears. "But don't you think this is a bit much?"

"I didn't get the impression you'd take a ring," he said, lowering his gaze to hers. "Try it out."

She was so moved she was incoherent. Sitting down on the bench, she  tinkered with the keys. "I don't know how to play. How could you do  this?" she asked in a voice wobbly to her own ears. "Why?"

"This was an illogical, emotional decision," he said. "You miss the  mother you never had. I can't bring her back for you. But maybe I can do  something that will make you feel like she's not so far away." He  stepped into the hallway. "Hey, Patch, would you bring the visitor in?"

"Visitor?" Martina said, still overwhelmed.

An elderly lady with fluffy white hair entered the room and gave a soft little gasp. "Stars! You look just like Anna."

Confused, Martina looked to Noah for help. "Pardon?"

"This is Helen Lowry and she was your mother's piano teacher when your  mom was a little girl. Helen is still teaching piano and she'd be happy  to take you on as a student."

One moment ago, Martina hadn't dreamed she could be more overwhelmed, but he'd topped her. "You knew my mother?"

"Most of her life," Mrs. Lowry said with a smile. "She was a sweet girl  who occasionally got into mischief. When she first started taking  lessons with me, her mother would dress her in the prettiest little  dresses. But Anna liked to climb trees and she was always showing up  with skinned knees. She hated the finger exercises I assigned, but soon  enough she made friends with the piano. By the time she met your daddy,  she had received a scholarship to attend a music conservatory."

Martina felt as if she'd traveled across a desert and found a fountain  of the sweetest water on earth. She'd known so little of her mother  because her father hadn't wanted to speak of her, and her brothers only  knew what little they remembered.

"Did she go?" she asked. "Did she go to the conservatory?"

Mrs. Lowry shook her head. "No. Your daddy bought her a piano and she  was as crazy about him as she was her music. When the babies started  coming, she was crazy about them, too."

Martina's throat grew tight. "I really don't know if I have any musical  ability, but even if I can't learn to play, I would love for you to tell  me about my mother."                       
       
           



       

Mrs. Lowry's eyes softened. "Now don't you worry. I've taught kids who  were tone deaf." She patted Martina on the shoulder. "And I'll be happy  to tell you all kinds of stories about your mother."

Martina glanced up to find Noah, but he was gone from the room. She  needed to talk to him. She needed to thank him. But how could she  possibly?

"We really should begin, dear," Mrs. Lowry said.

Martina blinked. "Begin what?"

"Your first lesson, of course. Let's start with middle C. It's right  here," she said, hitting a key. "Now, the proper position for your hands  is … "

Martina gamely tried to accept instruction from Mrs. Lowry, but her head  was in a whirl. In the past thirty minutes, Noah had delivered one  surprise after another. And now, heaven help her, she was attempting to  learn to play the piano. Another thirty minutes passed and Mrs. Lowry  left, and Martina was staring at the beautiful piano.

"How'd it go?"

Her jaw worked, but no sound came out. She took a calming breath. "I  don't know. I may not have my mother's patience with this. Then again, I  don't have much patience with anything." She stared at him. He was  leaning casually against the doorjamb as if he hadn't just given her a  miracle. "Where did you find her?"

"I've known Mrs. Lowry for a long time. I used to cut her lawn. She was  one of the few people who gave one of those bad Coltrane boys a chance.  When I saw your mother's piano the other day, though, it clicked that  Mrs. Lowry might have known her. I gave her a call this morning and … " He  shrugged.

She stood and walked toward him. "Do you have any idea what you've given me?"

"A big piano," he said.

She closed her eyes and her heart just overflowed, and so did her tears.

Noah made a sound of alarm and pulled her against him. "Mrs. Lowry  didn't smack your fingers with a ruler when you hit a wrong note or  something, did she?"

"No," Martina said, laughing through her tears at the ridiculous notion.  "She's the kindest woman." Martina shook her head and met his gaze.  "Noah, don't you realize you've just given me a piece of my mother? A  piece of her I would never have known without you? I just … " Her voice  broke and she sobbed.

Noah winced. "Are you sure this is good?"

"Yes!" she wailed.

"Okay," he said in a doubtful voice, and held her as she cried. No one  had ever given her such a gift. Although he'd captured pieces of her  heart when he gave her little things for the baby, this gift was truly  just for her. She would never be the same because of it, and she would  never feel the same toward Noah because of it.

"I hate to see you cry," he muttered into her hair.

"I hate to see me cry, too," she said ruefully, and sniffed. "But if there's such a thing as a good cry, this is it."

"Maybe Jonathan was right, after all," he said more to himself than to her.

"Jonathan?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I'll tell you about it another time. Now I need … "

" … for me to kiss you," she said, lifting her mouth to his.