“Of course you can.” He brought his hands up to either side of her face, cradling it in his grasp. “Whatever you need, Gemma.”
Sean had admitted he was no good. That gave her a great measure of comfort. But he also revealed that Mary’s baby had been the reason he’d stayed away. Even a man like Sean wanted a child.
She was being selfish, staying in Will’s room. He’d surely want children beyond the two he had adopted. She should let him go, let him find a woman who could be a real wife and begin the process of building her life again.
Chapter Sixteen
Will held her in his arms, wondering what she’d been thinking. It was late and he should be asleep.
They’d made love, Gemma desperate to touch him. Even now, in her sleep, she was pressed to his side, an arm and a leg thrown about him.
But she’d also been silent. He didn’t understand. He’d been worried that Gemma blamed herself but Sean had admitted to being the guilty party. Why was she so quiet?
He didn’t want to ask. Instead he kissed her, held her close, and waited. It was all he could do.
Soon, he’d know that the winter crop was growing. Then they could begin to really build a life. With money, he could buy her new clothes. Hire a tutor and a nursemaid. He’d show Gemma that she didn’t need to worry. He’d care for her.
With that in mind, he began to fall asleep. His eyes drifted closed as his thoughts softened, lengthened, changed direction. That was until he heard a noise. A soft pitter-patter on the ledge. Then louder.
He opened his eyes. Rain. It started to fall louder, faster, beating at the windows. Sitting up, he crossed the room to see that the window was already soaked.
“Hell and damnation.” He clutched at the sill. His crops. They weren’t ready for this type of rain. The seed would wash away.
“What’s wrong?” Gemma called from the bed partially sitting up. Then she gasped. “Oh no.”
“It can’t take this kind of rain. Weeks of work will be lost.” He held the wood tighter, his head resting against the glass. “I’ll fail Gemma. I’ll have to sell the land. How will I care for the children? For you?”
“Stop,” she soothed, coming to stand next to him. “You don’t have to take care of me, Will. That’s the thing about living on my own for three years. I can take care of myself.”
He didn’t want her to take care of herself. Irritation prickled along his skin. Was she trying to make him feel better? She hadn’t made him promises but in his heart, he’d already committed to her and it hurt that she hadn’t done the same.
She slid her hands down his back. “We can take care of the children together. I can take in laundry and you can farm.”
He spun around then, looking into her eyes. Her beautiful green eyes like new grass or ocean foam. “You wouldn’t leave me if I’m not a success?”
“Leave ye?” She held his arms. “Yer the most successful man I ken. And I don’t mean farming. Ye are building a life for me and those children one brick at a time.”
He kissed her then. He needed the comfort in this moment. “I don’t want to fail, Gemma. Try as I might, I’ve never been as successful as Blair or Stone.”
“Will,” she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. “I can’t believe they didn’t fail a few times along the way. And even if they didn’t, I certainly have. All we can do is get up tomorrow and try to put everything back together.”
He took a deep breath. She was right. What was more, much as he hated to admit it, he had to do more than just try to put it all back together. It was time to ask for a little help.
“Get back in bed. I’ll be right there.” Then he crossed the room and, taking out a piece of parchment, h
e began penning a note to Blair. Without more men, he’d never get the seed in on time.
* * *
Gemma watched Will writing. She had inadvertently made him promises just now. Not tonight and certainly not tomorrow. But once they got the fields sorted, she needed to tell him the truth. She couldn’t bear him children.
She swallowed a lump even thinking about saying those words. Would he be angry? End their relationship? Or would he say it didn’t matter even if it did. That would be just like him to take on her burden and suffer the consequences of it. Would she be able to forgive herself if she couldn’t provide him with a family?
Dusting the paper, he returned to bed. “I’ll send it first thing in the morning.” He pulled her tight against him. “There is nothing else I can do now.”
“It will all work out,” she said as she gently ran her hands through his hair.
He buried his face in the crook of her neck. “What if it doesn’t? What if I can’t give ye a good life, Gemma?”