The Renegade (The Moorehouse Legacy #3)(51)

He sat back, looking at the drawings, hands on his thighs. “I tell you, when Dad drafted these, he had the two of you in mind. And all the markings are his. Well, except for the transom cross sections. I took the liberty of printing your names on them. I hope that’s okay.”

There was total silence in the room as Alex focused on the sailboats and his sisters stared at him.

Suddenly, he seemed to realize everyone had gone quiet, and he glanced over his shoulder, flushing. “Yeah, ah, sorry to monopolize the party. I just—” He coughed a little as he leaned on his cane to get off the floor. “Anyway…I wanted you to have them. Maybe you could, uh, hang them somewhere. If you wanted to.”

There was a strangled sob. No, two of them.

Frankie and Joy launched themselves at him, throwing their arms around their brother. The sounds of crying were muffled against his sweater.

He stiffened and looked down at their heads with a frozen expression. Then he wrapped his arms around his sisters, pulling them closer, dropping his own head between theirs. Words were exchanged among the three, quietly.

Cass used her fingertips to wipe away tears. Needless to say, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. Even Spike was blinking furiously.

When the trio pulled apart, Frankie smiled as she mopped up her face with a cocktail napkin.

“This is so perfect,” she said, sniffling. “Those gifts on tonight of all nights.” She reached out for Nate and he took her hand, kissing her on the lips. “We’re pregnant,” she announced.

Joy clasped her hands to her mouth and teared up all over again.

Alex beamed, wrapped Frankie back in his arms and shook Nate’s hand. There were all sorts of congratulations and well-wishing and weepy smiling.

The fabric of life, Cass thought as she watched. The basis of family.

When it was appropriate, she stepped in and kissed Frankie on the cheek. Then she made a quick excuse to Libby and left the room.

Her stomach was back on the roller coaster again, and she just wasn’t up to sitting at the table. There was no way she could pretend everything was all right any longer, and in the midst of such happiness, she didn’t want to be the pill in the corner with a frown on her face.

As she went upstairs, she put her hand on her flat belly.

She would never have what Frankie had, Cass thought. New life growing inside of her. The man she loved beaming and proud by her side. The happy announcement.

Empty. So very empty.

She wanted to cry, except it struck her as useless. So she undressed, got into bed and closed her eyes. For some reason she was cold even though she was under the covers.

*

Alex stared at Frankie, feeling the smile on his face stretch his cheeks until they burned.

“So are you ready to be an uncle?” she asked.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Oh, Alex, those drawings.” Her eyes welled up. “That is the loveliest thing you’ve ever done.”

Joy came up to him and took his hand. “Oh, Alex. They’re so beautiful, so thoughtful. I never expected you—”

As his sister fell silent, he laughed a little. “Never expected me to what?”

“To know how much it would mean to us.”

“What made you think of it?” Frankie asked.

He looked around. Everyone else was across the room, examining the plans in front of the couch. The three of them were alone.

Might as well finish it, he thought.

“You’ve had no help from me, no support, since the two of them died. And yet I come home, bashed up, needing all kinds of things, not the least of which being patience and understanding. You both took care of me. You never hesitated. I didn’t deserve it. I still don’t.”

“Alex,” Frankie cut in, “you’re our brother—”

“How do you figure that? I left you two here all by yourselves. Not real brotherly. Not the mark of a good man, either.” He cleared his throat. He was not going to cry. Damn it, he was not. “I’m going back out to sea.”

He paused, taking in their stricken faces.

“But I’m going to return here more often, and I want to help out. I know Grand-Em’s care is expensive. I want to pay for it.”

The cost would take a chunk out of what he earned. After all, sailing was a rich man’s sport so the trophies were gorgeous, but the purses, even the America’s Cup, were small.

“Alex, you don’t—” As he stared at Frankie, she had the good sense not to argue.

He smiled and reached out to her belly.

“The next Moorehouse,” he murmured.

What would it be like, he wondered, to put his hand on a woman’s stomach and know that his son or daughter was nestled inside?

He thought of Cassandra. It was crazy, but he wished she wasn’t on the Pill. And that they’d had unprotected sex every single night that she’d been up in Saranac.

He wished she were pregnant.

He glanced at the people by the couch and realized she was gone.

“Cass went upstairs,” Joy explained. “She told Libby her stomach was still off.”

“Do you know if she ate lunch?”

“Libby said only some of her homemade chicken broth.”

“Then I’ll take some more of that up to her.”