Dutch Crocus (Flowers Can Be Fatal) Page 3

“Things will be different this time.”

  “I keep telling her that.” Adam slid his hands into his pockets. “But you know women and how well they listen.”

  Nate grinned. “My wife is deaf. She never hears a word I say anyway. But there is an alarm system you can get. It fits somewhere in the cot and goes off if the baby stops breathing. Jared got one when Siobhan was born. You should ask him about it.”

  “I will, thanks.” He made his way back to Sam.

  “You two looked intense.” Sam looked up from the service sheet. “And we’re singing your favorite hymn—‘we plough the fields and scatter.’”

  Adam pulled a face and whispered. “Least favorite you mean. And we were talking babies. Apparently, you can get an alarm now that tells you if the baby stops breathing. Maybe we invest in a couple.”

  Sam nodded. Relief flashed briefly in her eyes. “Yeah.”

  “We’ll look next week when we go shopping. I have Saturday off.”

  “Is this case ever going to end?” she asked. “I hardly see you anymore.”

  He kissed her. “I know. And I hate it too, but yes, it will end. Hopefully, before the beginning of November.”

  “Good.”

  “Yes, because I’m planning on taking you away for the weekend before the month’s out.”

  ~*~

  Sam wandered along the promenade with Adam. Honestly, the beach was the last place she wanted to go, but he’d persuaded her to come to Penry Island for the weekend. They’d checked into a hotel on the cliff tops and were walking slowly towards the town center. A cold breeze swirled around them, waves crashed onto the shore. Seagulls swooped and called overhead.

  Even though the sky was blue, she kept looking out to the horizon in case a storm was coming.

  Adam looked at her. “It’s not going to rain all weekend,” he said. “There isn’t going to be another storm surge.”

  She shivered. “I hope not.” She paused. “Did you see the pictures on the TV last night? They’re starting to rebuild, but they say it’ll take months, because they have to start from the sewers up.”

  Adam hugged her. “I know. But Aunt Lydia is living in Headley Cross now and rebuilding her life with us. She loves her charity work and is determined to work with Care at Christmas. She was asking me about the legalities involved in trying to get that running all year long.”

  “Is that even feasible? It’ll cost a fortune.” She stopped walking and leaned on the railing, watching a lifeboat race across the water.

  “She wants me to look into the logistics and legal perspectives for her. I’ve promised I will as soon as my feet touch the ground again.” He stood behind her, resting his hands on her stomach. “We start summing up next week.”

  Sam leaned against him. “Does this mean I get my husband back?”

  Soft lips nibbled her neck. “Maybe, but when do I get my wife back?”

  “Sorry,” she whispered. “I’ve been so sick and tired all the time and…”

  Soft breaths and chuckles brushed her ear. “It’s fine, honey, I’m teasing. How about we walk into town and check out that craft shop you wanted to see?”

  She nodded, turning to face him. “I’m sorry I’m not much fun, anymore.”

  Adam cupped her face. “Honey, you are here with me and that is all that matters. And before you tell me you’re fat, you’re not. You’re beautiful.”

  “Really?”

  His hands caressed her stomach, sending ripples of fire through her. “Yes. Inside here are the greatest gifts a wife can ever give a husband. So yes, you are beautiful. Every. Single. Part. Of. You.” He punctured each word with a soft kiss.

  As they walked through the town, they passed a baby shop. Adam stopped. “Can we at least look?”

  Sam shook her head. “It’s too soon, I told you.”

  He rolled his eyes. “At this rate, they’ll be born, and we still won’t have anything.”

  “According to Dad, when I was born I slept in the drawer in the tall boy for the first few weeks.”

  “I’m not having my sons sleep in a drawer.”

  “That’s fine. They could be girls.”

  “Or my daughters.” Adam laughed. “Please, we won’t get it from here anyway, but can we look?”

  “OK, we’ll look.” Sam let him drag her inside the store. Memories flooded her—shopping for Immy, pushing the pram around the shops afterwards for nappies and clothes and toys. Her chest tightened, and her breath faltered. “Adam…”

  “I know it’s hard, honey, but we need to do this. All we’re doing is looking. That’s all.”

  “OK.” She gripped his hand firmly. She ambled past the baby clothes and over to the cots. Several different ones were set up with bedding and mobiles. “Look,” she whispered. “Hedgehogs.”

  Yellow bedding, decorated with hedgehogs of various sizes, adorned a dark oak cot. The mobile was also hedgehogs. Adam reached out and turned it on, listening to the music. “Would you like it?” he asked her. “It matches the nursery so perfectly. We’ll get two sets of bedding, one each, and then closer to the time we’ll get another two sets to make the laundry easier.”

  Sam nodded slowly. “But just the bedding and mobiles. Nothing else.”

  He kissed her. “You’re the boss.”

  “And don’t you forget it.”

  November

  “Honey, I’m home.” Adam walked in early for the first time in what seemed like forever. The case was finally over and he had a week’s leave. He planned to do nothing but spend time with Sam and hopefully persuade her to finally go shopping and order the furniture for their impending family.

  Aunt Lydia came into the hallway. “Sam’s lying down upstairs.”

  He dropped his briefcase. “Is she sick?”

  “No, she had a checkup this morning and the doctor wants her to rest because her blood pressure was a little high.”

  Worry flooded him. Adam slung his coat over the bannisters and took the stairs two at a time. He shoved open the bedroom door. “Sam?”

  She looked up at him. “Finally, a sane person who isn’t going to make me lie here and do nothing when there is so much to be done.”

  He sat next to her and took her hand. “If Jackson told you to rest, honey, then that’s what you’ll do.”

  Sam groaned and tossed her book to the side. “Rest? All I’ve done all day is rest. I’m fed up with resting and reading. What do you want me to do? Take up knitting or crochet or some such thing?”

  Adam grinned. “That’s a brilliant idea. Get Aunt Lydia to teach you how to crochet and you can make baby blankets to bring the twins home from hospital in.”

  She thumped him with his pillow. “Oh, hush you.”

  He kissed her forehead. “Seriously, honey, what did the doctor say?”

  “That my blood pressure is too high and probably causing the headaches. He just wants me to rest and have weekly checkups. Oh, and he made an appointment for a scan next week.”

  Adam smiled. “Good, because I have all of next week off. And I intend to spoil you rotten. We’ll get more catalogues, look at cots and baby furniture on line and order it.”

  “But—”

  “No buts.” He leaned forward and kissed her. “And you are going to do just what the doctor said and rest. Though I might pack you into the car at some point and take you for a drive. Go and look for a Christmas tree out on the farm.”

  She looked at him. “It’s November fifteenth.”

  He grinned. “Since when has that stopped you wanting the tree and decorations up, Miss Christmas-is-twenty-four-seven-three-hundred-and-sixty-five-days-a-year? We’ll also go to the garden center and pick up some new outside lights. Then you can sit and tell me where to put them.”

  Sam snorted, then burst into laughter. “Why can I never stay mad around you anymore?” she asked when she finally recovered.

  “Because we have God in our relationship now,” he told her. “Now budge over and pass me your Bible, because
I want to find out what happens with the Amalekites, because you fell asleep during a battle with the Israelites last night.”

  ~*~

  Adam looked at his babies on screen and grinned. “They’ve grown.”

  Sam rolled her eyes. “No, really? Doesn’t feel like it at all.”

  The sonographer traced the screen pointing out things to them and Adam drank it all in. He would never tire of seeing the two tiny miracles on the screen. “Can you tell the sex of the babies yet?”

  “Do you want to know?”

  “Yes.”

  “No,” Sam said at the same time. She squeezed Adam’s hand. “No, we don’t.”

  He looked at her. “Why not? Then we’ll know what color onesies to go and buy and so on.”

  “I thought I was the Christmas freak who wanted to open all her presents the week before hand. You never let me. Isn’t this the same thing? Find out now and it’ll ruin the surprise.”

  “No, because we still won’t know what color eyes he’ll have or whether he’ll have lots of hair or none or…”

  Sam sighed. “I thought I was the boss. So we wait.”

  Adam huffed. “Fine.” He looked at the sonographer. “Boss says no. So I’ll settle for another couple of photos instead, please.” He returned his gaze to the screen. “We won’t know what names to pick.”

  “So we pick one of each,” she laughed. “It’s not going to work, Adam. You can sulk and whinge all you like, but I am not changing my mind.”

  He was still chuckling as they reached the car. “You can take this being the boss thing too far. I thought I was head of the household and you had to obey me in everything.”

  Sam winked. “Actually you have to love me as Christ loved the church. Therefore, you have to die for me. All I have to do is say ‘yes, dear’ to be a good, obedient and submissive wife.”

  He shook his head. “Sam?”

  She looked at him as she climbed into the car. “Yes, Adam?”

  “Shut up.”

  “Yes, dear.” She shut the door and grinned.

  Adam rounded the vehicle and got in. He glanced at his wife. She was again sat with her eyes closed, rubbing her temples. “Another headache?” he asked gently.

  She nodded. “But, no, I don’t want to rest,” she said.

  “Too bad. We’re going home. You can sit with your feet up, and I’ll put that film on that you wanted to see.”

  “But—”

  “No buts.” Adam started the car. “We can go Christmas shopping another day.”

  “’K.”

  That worried him more than anything. Sam never backed down. Ever. And yet here she was just giving in. If she still had the headache in the morning, he was calling Jackson out to see her.

  December

  Saturday 5th

  Adam stood on a chair, hands high above his head. “Here?” he asked, almost daring her to say three inches to the left again. He’d never known anyone as finicky as Sam when it came to hanging Christmas decorations from the ceiling.

  “Yeah.”

  He shoved the pin into the ceiling.

  “No, wait. A little to the left.”

  “No, honey.” He climbed down and moved the chair. “It’s staying there now.”

  She sighed from where she stood decorating the tree. “But it isn’t level with the others.”

  Adam rolled his eyes and tilted his head to look. “OCD much?” he teased. “Tell you what, I’ll hang the rest odd as well and then it’ll look fine.”

  “You will not.” She moved over to him. “I’ll do it myself.”

  Adam gently took her in his arms and kissed her. “No, honey. You’re thirty weeks pregnant. I’m not going to let you stand on a chair and hang things from the ceiling. Or change a lightbulb.”

  “You’re no fun…” She broke off as he kissed her again. “And stop distracting me.

  “Is it working?”

  She pushed him away. “No.” The doorbell chimed. “I’ll get that…you go hang something.”

  Adam made the most of it and hung the last few stars where he thought they should go. At least the room was finished before everyone got here.

  “Having fun?” David Painter asked from behind him.

  Adam jumped off the chair. “Have you come to rescue me?”

  David nodded. “Everyone is meeting us there, dropping respective other halves off here first.”

  Adam grinned and headed out to pick up his coat. “I’m off, honey. I won’t be late.”

  She frowned. “Where are you going?”

  “I’ll let Eden explain.” He kissed her forehead. “Have fun now.” He looked at David as he closed the front door. “I’m not sure about this. She’s been so anti-shopping for the babies, I can see her throwing a complete fit.”

  “Eden can handle her. It’s just a baby shower, that’s all. And if Sam doesn’t want to open the stuff, Eden will simply put it up in the nursery still wrapped. Then you and Sam can open it together when she’s ready.”

  ~*~

  December 11

  Sam waited until Adam had left for work before heading back upstairs to lie down again. She passed the nursery, still full of the wrapped baby shower gifts. She’d opened a few of what the girlfriends had assured her were personal presents—shower gel, massage oil, and so on. But all the baby things she hadn’t been able to face. No one had minded. They simply saw putting them upstairs as an excuse to see the nursery.

  Adam had done an amazing job in there, with the help of both their fathers. Pale lemon walls had perfect hedgehogs painted around the border and around the skirting boards. Lemon curtains hung at the windows and a rocking chair sat in the corner. A couple of bags with the bedding in leaned against the wall. She’d finally given in and let Adam order a pair of cots and a double pram/buggy/car seat contraption that she hoped she’d be able to manage on her own at some point.

  She toed off her slippers and lay on the bed. Being pregnant hadn’t been like this the last time. That had been a breeze, a walk in the park, cake walk, easy-peasy chocolate-squeezy and so on. This was turning into one long nightmare. She ran a hand over her stomach, feeling the twins move within her. Not for the first time she wished the pregnancy were at its end. But there were still weeks to go.

  Adam was away in London until Tuesday, which meant she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to. Aunt Lydia was coming to stay—when she wasn’t busy working at Care at Christmas. From what Sam could tell, Aunt Lydia loved it and seemed happy to have finally found her niche.

  Sam closed her eyes. So much had happened in the past year and the church seemed full of wedding plans. There was a double wedding coming up at the end of the month, which she was determined to get to. And one of the lighthouse keepers from Wolf Point who also lived in Headley Cross now was getting married in the spring. With any luck she wouldn’t look like a beached whale then.

  She circled her feet. Jackson had told her to keep moving them. She didn’t know why, to be honest she wasn’t really listening at the time. She sucked in a deep breath and reached out for her Bible. This month she and Adam were reading through Genesis. She wasn’t sure why he was picking random books. Surely it’d be easier to read a chapter or so a night from the beginning right through to the end? Rubbing her stomach, she began to read aloud as she and Adam did each night. Of course, she could just read to herself, but then the twins would miss the next part of Joseph’s story.

  The doorbell rang. Sam glanced at the clock through the now dark room. Four thirty? Had she fallen asleep? Maybe if she stayed put whoever it was would go away. The bell went again, and she reluctantly sat up. “OK, I’m coming.”

  Sam stood. A wave of dizziness flooded her and she closed her eyes, holding onto the wall for balance. “Get a grip,” she told herself fiercely.

  “Sam?” Aunt Lydia called through the letter box. “Are you in?”

  Sam edged towards the door. “Yeah, I’m coming! Just give me a minute.” She made the top o
f the stairs and gripped the bannisters. Her vision swam, and as she stepped out the floor beneath her seemed to vanish. For a moment she was flying, then with a crash she landed in a heap.

  Banging came from somewhere to her left, or was it her right? Sam wasn’t sure because everything was floating on a sea of pain. A loud crash was followed by voices. She shook her head, forcing everything back into sharp focus.

  Aunt Lydia knelt one side of her, with Jared Harkin, dressed for work in his fire station T-shirt, kneeling at her other. “There was no need to call the fire brigade,” Sam managed, trying to sit up.

  “She didn’t,” Jared said. “I’m on my way home and was dropping the baby alarm off on my way. I told Adam he could borrow it. Now lie still until Jackson gets here.”

  “Rubbish, I’m fine. I just got a little dizzy at the top of the stairs.”

  “It’s Jackson or an ambulance,” Aunt Lydia said firmly.

  “Fine, Jackson it is.” Sam sat up and leaned against the wall, rubbing her ankle. “I’ve had a headache all day.”

  “All the more reason to let Jackson check you over.”

  “Fine, but not here. I’ll walk into the lounge.”

  “I don’t think so.” Jared picked her up and carried her.

  Sam sighed, not willing to admit she probably couldn’t have walked to the lounge in any event. “Should I be grateful it’s not a fireman’s lift?” she quipped.

  Jared snorted. “So long as you don’t tell Niamh I’ve had another woman in my arms.”

  She laughed. “Just don’t tell Adam, and you’re on. Otherwise it’ll be handbags and pistols at dawn.”

  Jared set her on the couch. “I should make a move. Niamh has a meeting at five thirty, and I’m looking after Siobhan. Take care.”

  “I’ll see you out,” Aunt Lydia said.

  Sam leaned back into the couch and groaned. Of all the times to fall down the stairs, she had to pick now. She rubbed her stomach. “Sorry little peoples. You have an idiot for a mother.”

  “I’ll second that one.” Jackson’s voice came from above her and she looked up at him. “What were you doing?” He sat beside her, taking her wrist in his cold fingers.

  “Going to answer the door,” Sam replied. “I’d just woken up.” At his frown, she added, “I woke with a headache so after Adam left, I went back to bed to sleep it off.”