A Family of Their Own(67)

She drew in a breath and told him the details, but left out what he really wanted to know. “And did you have a chance to talk with Karen?”

She lifted tired eyes to his. “I did. I thought it would be difficult but, you know what? It wasn’t. By the time I’d gone through the visitation and the funeral, I ached so badly for her. My feelings for Doug ended so long ago, and though I grieved, it was for Lucy and Karen and for my behavior in not talking with Doug earlier.”

He slipped off the stool and moved to her side. “I’m grateful, for your sake.” He slid his arm around her back and drew her closer.

“So am I. A heavy weight lifted from me. One I’d carried far too long. I finally realized that bitterness and regret bound me to the past, and I want to look to the future.”

His heart sang. “I love hearing you say that.” Love. The word rippled through his chest. He looked into her eyes, and she responded.

Her mouth drew toward his, and he lowered his lips to hers, drinking in the sweet sense of completeness. He missed her every moment they were apart. She filled his mind each day, and he believed it was possible to be in love and still be focused on two other females he adored—his daughter and Lucy.

Kelsey trembled in his arms, her body yielding against his, the weariness of her trip seeming to melt away. “This feels so right.” She tilted her head back and gazed into his eyes. “I thought of you so much while I was gone.”

Her face flickered with a new thought. “And ached at a funeral with no faith message. It was so sad. Doug attended church, and I’d always trusted that he was a believer, but the service felt empty and hopeless.”

He listened, holding her close and sensing the sorrow she felt. “The Lord knew his heart. That’s your hope for him. Shame can pull us from faith, and hopefully in those last days, he returned to what he’d believed.” Ross longed for a better answer, one with more assurance, but only the Lord knew the truth. He still had good news to share, and this seemed like the right time. “I heard some good news Friday morning.”

She jerked her head upward. “About—?”

“The insurance. The medication is being covered. In fact, I picked up the prescription right after I heard. Dr. Timmons called it in and Peyton’s been on it for two days.” His chest expanded with hope.

Her joyful expression sank. “You should have called me.”

“I knew you had a lot on your mind, and I didn’t want to give you my wonderful news while you were dealing with a difficult situation.” His excuse sounded empty. In truth, he wanted to see the happiness on her face. His motivation was selfish.

“Please, tell me all the good news you can. I want to know…and the bad news, too, Ross. If we’re this close, we need to share our joys and sorrows.”

He nodded as he raised his hand. “Scout’s honor. I promise and I’m sorry.”

She brushed her lips across his again and eased back. “I smell coffee.”

He sniffed the air, smelling the brisk scent, and he grinned.

Kelsey slipped from his arms and headed for the coffeepot, but he prayed that was as far as she would slip away from him. He wanted to hold her forever.



The doctor’s voice faded as Kelsey’s mind spun with his diagnosis. He gazed at her over his glasses, his face serious, and she knew they had to face his conclusion.

“But…” She shook her head, digging into her thoughts for alternatives. “I don’t understand. What about gamma knife surgery?” It was noninvasive and safer, with only a short hospital stay, but Dr. Bryant only looked at her, his eyes intense.

“I just explained that, Mrs. Rhodes.”

She flinched, wondering where her mind had been when he’d told her. She lowered her head. “I’m sorry.” Her hands twisted in her lap, and she couldn’t bear to look at Lucy.

“We’re still not sure until we get inside if it’s an actual tumor or scar tissue, and the gamma knife can lead to more scar tissue. We want this surgery to be the final one for Lucy. If it’s not a tumor, then we’ve won a battle, and the scar tissue can be removed, hopefully for the last time.”

“The last time.” She spoke the words bursting in her head. “If only we could count on that.”

“You’ve been doing well, right, Lucy?”

“I’ve been great. No symptoms even.”

Kelsey finally turned her head to see her daughter’s face. She looked strong and determined to win the battle. “But a craniotomy. Is that our only choice?” That was the word she didn’t want to hear. A craniotomy meant opening her skull and removing a bone flap. It meant Lucy would lose her lovely hair again. It meant…too much. She fought her tears.