probably give you the moon." Dean laughed.
"I meant that I don't think that would work." Caroline twined her long fingers together, revealing an agitation that was totally foreign to her. "I love you, Dean. I'll always love you. But I would hate living there."
"You don't know that," Dean protested, stunned by her statement and its implications. "Wait until you see it. It's a beautiful old home with turrets and bay windows. . . the design of the parquet floor, you'd fall in love with it. The craftsmanship of the woodworkâ"
"The beautiful furniture, the crystal, the china, the elaborate clothes and the entertaining that goes with themâI don't like that kind of life, Dean. Please try to understand that's not the way I want to live," she said insistently.
"You're being emotional right now. It's the baby." Dean grabbed at any excuse rather than accept what she was saying.
She sighed heavily with a mixture of exasperation and despair. "Could you live anywhere else than River Bend? Would you be happy for the rest of your life living in a house like this one, without all the fine and beautiful things you're used to?"
"I. . . could try." But he just couldn't imagine it.
"I won't ask you to, Dean. I don't expect you to give up your life for me and I can't give up mine for you. Just the same, I'm glad that you wanted to marry me."
"What are you saying?" He stared at her, icy fear clutching at his throat.
âI love you, but I won't marry you." She turned her back on him and faced the table strewn with brushes, paints, cleaning fluids, and rags. "I was offered a teaching post at a private school in California. I've decided to accept it." Her shoulders lifted in a little shrug. "After all, I've never seen the Pacific Coast. I'll be leaving in ten days."
"You can't! You're going to have my baby."
"I can have it in California as easily as I can have it here." She sounded so callous.
"If you love me, how can you leave me?" As he caught hold of her arm and turned her around, he saw the tears in her eyes. "Dear God, Caroline, I don't think I can live without you."
"Don'tâ" Her voice broke. "Don't make this any harder for me than it already is."
"Then stay."
"I can't."
No amount of cajoling, demanding, begging, or arguing on Dean's part could persuade her to change her mind. In the following ten days, he tried time after time with no success. She was going to California. "If you want to see me, you can come there," she said and gave him the address and phone number of the school in Los Angeles. When he tried to give her some money, she shoved it back in his hands and informed him that she would not accept any financial support from him. If he wanted to pay part of the medical expenses he could, but she insisted that she was more than capable of raising the baby without his help.
That first week Caroline was gone, Dean went through hell. Twice he called the number she'd given him; both times he was told she hadn't reported in yet. When he was almost driven crazy with the thought that she'd disappeared from his life for good, she called. She'd had car trouble in Arizona. No, she was fine. She'd found an apartment in Malibu, near the beach. The Pacific was so different from either the Gulf or the Atlantic, she could hardly wait to start painting it. And she missed him.
Life suddenly seemed worth living again. Dean started making plans to fly to California and see her as soon as Babs was feeling better. Two days ago she had collapsed at a charity luncheon. The doctor was certain it was merely a case of exhaustion brought on by the heat and a slight case of anemia. With a couple of weeks of rest and a well-balanced diet, she would be on her feet again.
As soon as he arrived home that night, Dean went upstairs to see her. She was reclining in the chaise longue, wrapped in a ruffled silk robe of mint green. A bed tray was across her lap, but Dean noticed the food on it had barely been touched.
"You're supposed to be
"I meant that I don't think that would work." Caroline twined her long fingers together, revealing an agitation that was totally foreign to her. "I love you, Dean. I'll always love you. But I would hate living there."
"You don't know that," Dean protested, stunned by her statement and its implications. "Wait until you see it. It's a beautiful old home with turrets and bay windows. . . the design of the parquet floor, you'd fall in love with it. The craftsmanship of the woodworkâ"
"The beautiful furniture, the crystal, the china, the elaborate clothes and the entertaining that goes with themâI don't like that kind of life, Dean. Please try to understand that's not the way I want to live," she said insistently.
"You're being emotional right now. It's the baby." Dean grabbed at any excuse rather than accept what she was saying.
She sighed heavily with a mixture of exasperation and despair. "Could you live anywhere else than River Bend? Would you be happy for the rest of your life living in a house like this one, without all the fine and beautiful things you're used to?"
"I. . . could try." But he just couldn't imagine it.
"I won't ask you to, Dean. I don't expect you to give up your life for me and I can't give up mine for you. Just the same, I'm glad that you wanted to marry me."
"What are you saying?" He stared at her, icy fear clutching at his throat.
âI love you, but I won't marry you." She turned her back on him and faced the table strewn with brushes, paints, cleaning fluids, and rags. "I was offered a teaching post at a private school in California. I've decided to accept it." Her shoulders lifted in a little shrug. "After all, I've never seen the Pacific Coast. I'll be leaving in ten days."
"You can't! You're going to have my baby."
"I can have it in California as easily as I can have it here." She sounded so callous.
"If you love me, how can you leave me?" As he caught hold of her arm and turned her around, he saw the tears in her eyes. "Dear God, Caroline, I don't think I can live without you."
"Don'tâ" Her voice broke. "Don't make this any harder for me than it already is."
"Then stay."
"I can't."
No amount of cajoling, demanding, begging, or arguing on Dean's part could persuade her to change her mind. In the following ten days, he tried time after time with no success. She was going to California. "If you want to see me, you can come there," she said and gave him the address and phone number of the school in Los Angeles. When he tried to give her some money, she shoved it back in his hands and informed him that she would not accept any financial support from him. If he wanted to pay part of the medical expenses he could, but she insisted that she was more than capable of raising the baby without his help.
That first week Caroline was gone, Dean went through hell. Twice he called the number she'd given him; both times he was told she hadn't reported in yet. When he was almost driven crazy with the thought that she'd disappeared from his life for good, she called. She'd had car trouble in Arizona. No, she was fine. She'd found an apartment in Malibu, near the beach. The Pacific was so different from either the Gulf or the Atlantic, she could hardly wait to start painting it. And she missed him.
Life suddenly seemed worth living again. Dean started making plans to fly to California and see her as soon as Babs was feeling better. Two days ago she had collapsed at a charity luncheon. The doctor was certain it was merely a case of exhaustion brought on by the heat and a slight case of anemia. With a couple of weeks of rest and a well-balanced diet, she would be on her feet again.
As soon as he arrived home that night, Dean went upstairs to see her. She was reclining in the chaise longue, wrapped in a ruffled silk robe of mint green. A bed tray was across her lap, but Dean noticed the food on it had barely been touched.
"You're supposed to be
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