Four Weddings: A Woman To Belong To / A Wedding in Warragurra / The Surgeon's Chosen Wife / The Playboy Doctor's Marriage Proposal. Fiona LoweЧитать онлайн книгу.
she was real. ‘I was damned if I was going to die before I told you I loved you.’
I love you. Her heart soared. He loved her.
A kernel of doubt opened up. ‘Are you sure you’re not just saying that because you’re in shock?’
He breathed in deeply, pain contorting his face as if he was mustering every last ounce of his energy. He slowly raised his hand to her cheek. ‘Bec, I’m so sorry I hurt you. I was a fool. I’d been convinced for so long that my sense of displacement, the empty space inside me, was connected to not being able to find my birth mother and her family. Of missing out on my Vietnamese culture and language. But I had it all wrong. That sense of displacement was because I hadn’t met you.’
He shuddered. ‘It took the threat of suffocation by mud for me to realise that you filled that space. You were the missing half of me. The times I’ve spent with you have been the most wonderful times of my life. With you I’ve found contentment for the very first time.’
Tears pricked her eyes. ‘But what about your search for your birth mother?’
His arm fell back as exhaustion claimed him. ‘I’ll still look but I know the chances are slim. If I don’t find her I’ll be OK with that. You were right. I have a loving family, one that I have badly ignored recently.’
She lay down next to him, holding him close. ‘I never want to be this scared ever again.’
He tried to chuckle but started to cough. ‘I got as close to death as I ever want to go. The one thing that kept me alive was you. You were with me as the mud washed over me. Your image, your voice, your fighting spirit and your love. You kept me alive, Bec. Thank you for rescuing me.’
‘I’m glad I could return the favour.’ She helped him sit up to ease the coughing. ‘You taught me to trust again. You brought me back to life. I’d existed up until then. You showed me what I was missing.’
Worried eyes scanned her face. ‘Will you spend your life with me, Bec?’
Her heart exploded with joy. ‘Absolutely.’ She hugged him tight. ‘But first I want to get you to hospital and started on antibiotics. I think you’re a prime candidate for inhalation pneumonia. Not to mention gangrene from those gashes.’
He leaned against her. ‘That can wait ten more minutes. I want to sort out a couple of other things.’
‘But, Tom …’ The serious look in his eyes silenced her.
‘I nearly died today with things left unsaid. I am not going to leave things unsaid again. I once told you I didn’t want to have children because I had no medical history. It wasn’t strictly true. You were right, I was scared. Scared of the unknown.’
He picked up her hand. ‘But, Bec, I want us to be parents. I want us to share that experience. Together we’re strong enough to deal with whatever comes our way. What do you think? Do you trust our relationship enough to have children?’
Warmth radiated through her, warming every part of her, bringing light to all the dark places. A family of her own. A family with Tom. ‘I want us to have children. I couldn’t think of anything more wonderful, but …’ She thought of Minh.
‘But what?’ His voice sounded strained.
If their relationship was to have a chance she had to take a risk. ‘I know you feel really strongly about overseas adoption but I believe we can offer a child something even your amazing parents couldn’t. We can give a child the best of East and West. I will learn Vietnamese and you can teach me how to cook.’ She bit her lip before jutting her chin forward. ‘I want us to adopt Minh.’
‘The cerebral palsy baby?’ His voice was so soft she could barely hear it. ‘Yes.’
He was silent for a few moments, his fingers tracing the length of hers, the mud on his forehead cracking along his concentration lines.
Bec held her breath.
He finally spoke. ‘Minh will have more of a history than me. His parents’ names will be on record. As he grows up he can have contact with them or with his other relatives if his parents are not alive.’ He faced her, his eyes shining. ‘I think that would be a wonderful thing to do.’
Relief flooded her and she flung her arms around him and kissed him. The taste of mud grounded her. ‘Now, will you let me get you down the mountain to Hin and to the hospital?’
He nodded slowly as if the effort was almost too much.
She stood up and pulled Tom to his feet. Looping his arm around her shoulder, she supported her man and walked him down the mountain toward their new life.
TOM LEANED OVER the fence gazing out over the emerald green paddocks. The colour reminded him of Vietnam but, instead of rice, he stared at black and white cows.
A firm, work-worn hand clamped down on his shoulder. ‘It’s half an hour before Mum dishes up, son. She’s cooked the works—roast lamb, baked veggies and rhubarb crumble for dessert.’
Tom turned toward his dad’s tanned, smiling face. Kind sky-blue eyes looked at him from under a battered akubra hat. ‘Mum always cooks that when we’re heading back to Vietnam.’
His father nodded. ‘She needs to send you off with your favourite meal. Besides, Minh adores Aussie lamb and this time next year the baby will be chomping it down, too.’
Tom laughed. ‘You’re probably right.’ He walked up to the house with his dad, matching his stride. ‘Minh’s just blossomed on the farm this holiday. It’s been a great two months, Dad, thanks.’
His dad nodded in agreement. ‘We love it when you all come to stay.’ He cleared his throat. ‘It’s wonderful to see you so happy, Tom. Your mother and I worried about you for a long time. If we’d known you’d end up marrying Bec we could have saved ourselves a lot of sleepless nights. She’s the perfect life partner for you.’
‘I’ve been blessed, Dad. First with you and Mum adopting me, and now with Bec.’
His dad gave him a firm pat on the back.
The wire door on the farmhouse slammed open. A three-year-old boy with a rolling gait and a splint on his left leg hurtled out of the house. ‘Grandpa!’
Tom’s dad bent down, opening his arms as Minh raced into them, squealing with delight. ‘The dog had puppies.’
‘Did she, now? Well, you’d better show me, then.’ He held Minh’s hand and let the little boy lead him over to the shed.
Tom smiled as a childhood memory of him doing much the same thing spun through his mind.
‘Penny for them.’
He looked up. Bec was leaning against a veranda post, wearing a thick Aran jumper to ward against the cold Gippsland winter evenings. Jeans clung to her legs, outlining their delicious curves, and she’d snagged her hair back in a ponytail. She looked fresh, vibrant and incredibly sexy. It was hard to believe she’d given birth to their gorgeous black-haired baby girl only six weeks previously.
He stepped up to her, leaning in close, pinning her gently to the post. He nuzzled her neck, trailing kisses along her jaw until he captured her mouth with his. ‘Mmm, you taste of sugar and spice.’
‘I licked the mixing bowl. Your mum made cinnamon biscuits.’ She wrapped her arms around his waist. ‘What were you thinking about?’
‘Minh’s enthusiasm for the new puppies reminded me of myself at much the same age. I can still feel my small hand inside Dad’s bigger one.’ He sighed at the memory.
‘Do you want to stay longer?’ Questioning violet eyes full of love, scanned his face.
‘Yes