A Father's Desperate Rescue (Man on a Mission 5)

Dirk turned his attention to her. “Yes?”

“I’m really sorry I lost my temper and spanked Linden. I know that doesn’t make it okay, and I know you’ll probably be looking for another nanny for your daughters if—I mean when—you get them back. And I wouldn’t blame you.” Tears stood in her eyes. “I made a mistake. A bad one. But I love Linden and Laurel, and I’ll be praying for them. Please believe that.”

He was still upset about what had happened, but he wasn’t proof against Vanessa’s tears. “I believe you,” he said as gently as he could. “Linden and Laurel love you, too. So, no, I won’t be looking for another nanny for the girls. Unless...” He glanced at Chet, then back at Vanessa.

Vanessa held her hand out to Chet in an appealing fashion. “I...I don’t know if...”

It was as if the two were alone in the room. Chet said, “I haven’t changed my mind. I still want you as my wife, Vanessa.”

“I should never have refused to marry you,” Vanessa replied. “I realize that now. I think maybe that’s why I was so short-tempered with Linden, because I had turned you down and was regretting it. Almost as if I felt Linden’s misbehavior wasn’t fair after the sacrifice I’d made for her.”

* * *

Ten minutes later, when Vanessa left with Chet, Dirk and Mei-li were alone. There was still more than an hour before they needed to leave to make the last ransom delivery, so while Dirk called down to have room service pick up the dishes, Mei-li sat herself down at the piano in the corner of the living room.

Her fingers wandered over the keys, playing little snatches of one song after another from memory. Then, without realizing it, she drifted into a piano version of George Winston’s “Where Are You Now,” from his 9/11 benefit album. She stopped in midnote when she realized how infelicitous this was.

“Don’t stop.” Dirk’s voice was very quiet, but firm. He sat next to her on the piano bench. “Why did you stop? That song exactly expresses my feelings.”

“You know it?”

“I’m a big fan of George Winston. Just like jazz, George Winston’s music speaks to the heart.” There was something in Dirk’s face that made Mei-li’s heart ache. “I played his Remembrance—A Memorial Benefit CD a lot after Bree died—the music cries for you when you can’t cry yourself.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Why couldn’t you cry?” she asked softly.

Dirk didn’t answer with words, but his fingers flowed over the keys and she recognized “Lament” from the same CD. He played the song through to the end, then sat there with his hands in his lap, staring at them.

“Bree lost two babies the first couple of years we were married,” he said without preamble. “She barely knew she was pregnant...before she wasn’t.” He rubbed a tired hand over his face. “I’ll be honest. They weren’t real to me. Not the way they were to her. She grieved over each miscarriage, and I...I was helpless. I tried to be supportive but she knew I didn’t feel the same way she did. That only added to her grief.”

His face contracted. “We tried for ten years after that. She wanted a baby so badly! It was the only thing she wanted I couldn’t give her.” He fell silent for a moment. “We tried everything, even in vitro fertilization. And after ten years, a miracle happened.” His eyes squeezed shut, and when they opened again, his lashes were damp. “Only...right after she found out she was pregnant, she was diagnosed with stage III ovarian cancer.”

“Oh, Dirk! How horrible for both of you.” Mei-li put a comforting hand on his arm.

He glanced down at her hand and shook his head. “Don’t waste your sympathy on me. Because, son of a bitch that I am, I...” He swallowed hard, and his voice dropped to a husky whisper. “I wanted her to have an abortion.”

Chapter 16

“How’s that for Father of the Year, as one fan magazine named me?” Dirk continued, his lips twisting in self-mockery. “All I cared about was me. What I wanted.”

Mei-li placed two fingers over his lips. “I don’t believe that. You loved your wife. You wanted to save her life no matter what price you had to pay. Don’t try to convince me otherwise. Stage III ovarian cancer? That means radical treatment—chemotherapy, radiation, possibly even surgery. All potentially dangerous for the woman, and even more so for an unborn child. Am I right?”