For the first time he could ever remember, Derek felt a surge of love for his grandfather. There was a reason why he was so prickly and difficult and closed off. He might have neglected his son, but that was the only way he could cope with his own demons.
"But Lorne didn't neglect you," Otto continued. "He was proud of you."
"Yeah?" Derek's nerves tingled. "I can't remember him, and Mom never wanted to talk about him."
"Guess it was hard for her, having a kid and losing a husband so young."
"So my dad was a good father?" He didn't know why, but it seemed so important to get to this truth.
Otto leaned back. He gazed off into the distance as if he could see into the past. "He was a good father. He loved you. He wanted the best for you."
Derek gazed down at the photo of himself and his dad. Suddenly he had to cover his face with his hands. It was too much, this heart-to-heart with his granddad following on the heels of Hannah's rejection. His shoulders heaved for a while until he regained control. He rubbed his eyes to erase all trace of moisture before he looked up at Otto.
"Thanks for telling me about my dad. I needed to know that."
Otto's ancient eyes narrowed on him. "I've never seen you this upset before. Is there something I should know?"
Derek hesitated a few seconds before he blurted out, "I'm going to be a dad but"-he paused painfully-"I'm not getting married or anything."
His grandpa blinked at him, not saying anything for a while. "That Willmett girl, is it?"
Derek nodded.
"Is it you who doesn't want to marry, or her?"
"She doesn't."
His grandpa closed his eyes, and Derek thought the old man was nodding off. Probably didn't want to hear any more of his sob story. God, he felt like he'd been sobbing inside for weeks. He shut the photo album and got up to return it to the shelf.
"You should make a copy," Otto suddenly spoke up.
"Of what?"
"Of that photo of you and your dad. To remind you of what you want."
"Thanks, I will." Derek sighed, and his shoulders slumped.
"I don't understand you, boy. You've always gone after what you want, so why are you giving up now?"
"Giving up? I don't understand."
"You want that Willmett girl, and you want to raise that baby together. So why are you being such a wimp about it?"
"I'm no wimp," he automatically protested.
"You been sitting here blubbering for God knows how long. If you want her that badly, go out and fight for her."
Derek clenched his fists. "I wasn't blubbering."
"You made me apologize to Mrs. Pascoe even though I didn't want to, and it was the right thing to do. So why can't you do the hard thing yourself?"
"It's not the same thing."
"It's exactly the same thing. You can dish it out, but you can't take it."
Damn, was his grandpa going to insult him all day? But Otto was right. When Caleb had asked Derek point blank if he loved Hannah, he had wimped out because he was so scared of being rejected. But that hadn't helped because now he was feeling even more rejected. He should have had the balls to tell Hannah exactly how he felt about her and damn the consequences.
He stood up and drew in a breath. He could still do it. He would go visit Hannah and talk to her and make her see how crazy in love with her he was. And if she still rejected him, then so be it. At least he had tried.
"You're right," he said to Otto. "I'm going to talk to Hannah right away."
"Hannah?"
"The Willmett girl."
"Right." His grandpa nodded. "Glad to see you've found your cojones."
Cojones? Grandpa's full of surprises today.
Chapter Eighteen
Hannah felt so ill at work that she was forced to go home early, which didn't endear her to Vera. But for once her manager's acid comments made no impact on Hannah. She was just glad to drive home. Her lower back was killing her, and her whole body felt achy and cramping. After her night of confession with Amber and her brother's morning visit, she couldn't stop thinking of Derek. He was leaving Pine Falls tomorrow. She had to tell him how she really felt about him, but not right now, when she was so out of sorts.
When she arrived home, she took a hot shower, hoping it would ease her achy body, and then slipped into bed for a nap. She woke up an hour later. Her bed linen still held Derek's scent, and she buried her nose into the sheets, longing for him. She would go and see him now, she decided, even though her body was still sore. She hauled herself out of bed and hunted through her closet for something suitable to wear.
Not jeans. She needed something more feminine and confidence-boosting if she was going to face Derek and confess she was in love with him. She poked through her clothes and pulled out a dress from the back of her closet. It was a clingy, wrap-around, moss-green cocktail dress, a gift from Amber that she'd never worn.
She eased the dress on. Her breasts had grown, but her stomach was still flat, and the stretchy fabric accommodated her new figure. A fancy dress like this needed makeup and styled hair. For the first time in weeks she lavished attention on her dark blonde locks and used eye shadow and liner to highlight her green eyes.
Eventually she stood back and inspected herself in the mirror. She almost didn't recognize herself. Was that really her in that slinky dress with hair fluffed up and smoky eyes? Maybe it was too much. Maybe she looked like a ridiculous cougar.
Unable to decide, she went to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of ginger tea. Her nerves must really be shot because the nausea had returned along with dull stomach cramps.
She pressed a hand to her belly as her uneasiness mounted. She needed to use the bathroom. Sometime later, she staggered out of the bathroom, her whole world turned upside down.
She was bleeding, and the baby that had caused such upheaval in her and Derek's life was now in jeopardy.
She was surprised at how outwardly calmly she was. Inside, she was a quivering mass of fear, but somehow she managed not to break down in tears. She had to get herself to the ER. If it was a miscarriage, there wasn't much doctors could do, but she ought to go to a hospital as a precaution.
In her current state she shouldn't drive herself to the hospital. She tried calling Amber and then Caleb, but neither were picking up. So she decided to call her dad. Frank sounded relieved when he answered. They hadn't spoken since she'd dropped her pregnancy bombshell a few days ago. It seemed he had calmed down since then because he agreed to come to her place. She didn't tell him about the emergency, though, figuring she didn't want to freak him out too soon. She would tell him when he arrived.
Hannah eased herself into a chair at her kitchen table and prepared to wait. Ten minutes later, a vehicle pulled into her driveway, and someone got out. Footsteps sounded on her front porch, followed by a light tap on her door.
Hannah straightened her aching back.
"Come in," she called out, surprised by how normal she sounded. "It's not locked."
The door opened, and moments later Derek walked into the kitchen. She'd just taken a sip of ginger tea, and she almost spit it out when she saw him.
"Derek! How … What are you doing here?"
He wore his usual jeans and T-shirt, but he looked uptight and anxious. "Is this a good time to visit?"
"Uh … " Her lips moved, but she couldn't form a single word. Pain gripped her, but it was the emotional agony of looking at the man she was in love with, who didn't love her.
"Maybe not. You look like you're all dressed up to go somewhere." His gaze wandered over her dress and hair. His mouth fell open. "Wow … "
"Yeah, okay, I got the message." She frowned, her courage disappearing like water down a drain hole. Stupid cocktail dress.
"You look incredible." His eyes were wide.
"I … do?"
"Yeah. But you always look incredible to me."
She couldn't breathe. She stared at him, and he stared back, and she could swear the connection between them was real and concrete. But then another spasm stuck its pitchfork into her back and tossed her back to reality. It didn't matter what she felt about Derek or what she had meant to tell him. Not now.
She pressed a hand over her belly. "Derek, I'm bleeding."
"What?" His face altered like ice shearing off a glacier, and she cursed herself for not warning him first. "You're … bleeding?"
She waited for the spasm to wear off. "Sorry. Didn't mean to spring it on you like this."
"When?" he got out. "When did it start?"
"A-an hour ago? I'm not sure."
His throat worked as he swallowed several times, clearly battling with his emotions. "How bad is it?"
She hesitated, unsure how much detail to give him. Even though she was suffering, she didn't want to shock him too much.
"Tell me," he urged.
"At first it was a few spots, but it's suddenly gotten heavier."