A month later they were married in a private ceremony. As they walked out into the early morning sunshine, Jackson turned to the woman who was now his wife and wished he could speak the words that filled his heart. Instead, he was forced to say something anyone could tell her.

"You're a lovely bride, Mrs. Steadman."

"Thank you, Mr. Steadman. You look very nice, too."

He loosened his tie. "Why does looking nice have to be so uncomfortable?"

"I know what you mean. I think my feet must be swollen. These shoes feel two sizes too small."

"Take them off. I'm supposed to carry you over the threshold anyway. We'll just extend that to carrying you from the truck."

She laughed. "I might take you up on that. My days of wearing four-inch heels are numbered."

He shook his head. "I've never understood why anyone would want to wear them in the first place. It looks like torture to me."

"In my case, I do it because I need the height. You have noticed that I'm short, haven't you?"

Jackson grinned teasingly. "There's nothing about you that I haven't noticed or appreciated."

"Spoken like a new husband. I'll do the wifely thing and tell you how much I appreciate all the work you've done in the nursery. It would have taken me days to put the crib and changing table together."

"No, it wouldn't because I was going to take care of that no matter where you were living."

She gave him a playful push. "Don't be so sure about that. I'm not a doormat."

"That's good; I don't like things to be too easy."

With a speaking glance, she allowed him to carry her into the house. After he set her gently on her feet, she said, "I'm going to change clothes and make lunch."

Jackson glanced at the clock. "It's only a little after ten."

Hannah laughed. "You better get used to being around a pregnant woman. I eat every two to three hours."

"Well, go ahead, but don't fix anything for me." As she walked toward the guestroom, he put out his hand to stop her. "In all the excitement of getting married, I forgot to tell you something. I switched rooms with you. After you left last night, I noticed how crowded your room was so I moved your things into the master bedroom. I don't know why I didn't think of that sooner. I also put the crib in there. You'll probably want the baby with you at first since you're...um, nursing and everything. Anyway, it will give you more privacy and the bathroom is bigger, too."

"You gave up your room?"

"It's not a big deal."

"To me, it is. It's not as if you're getting much out of this arrangement. You won't even let me help with the mortgage or buy groceries."

Jackson shrugged out of his suitcoat. "I didn't do it to get something in return."

Her cheeks flushed. "I didn't mean that. You've been so good about everything. "

"If it's a problem, I can try being uncooperative and mean," he suggested with a crooked grin.

Hannah came over to where he stood. "I don't think that's possible. Thank you for the bigger room."

Jackson looked everywhere but at her. Her grat.i.tude was almost too much to bear at that moment. Would he ever have her love? "I was just trying to make things easier for you."

Hannah pushed back a lock of hair that had fallen over his forehead. "You've been doing that ever since you came to St. Simons."

"I hope to keep doing it." Summoning a smile, he stepped away from her. "I hear Freya scratching at the door."

"I hope my living here isn't going to bother her."

"No worries there. Like me, she's fallen completely under your spell. I'll see you later."

She watched him walk away with a puzzled look on her face.

After dinner, Jackson took Freya for a walk while Hannah finished the last of her unpacking. Getting married hadn't been the ordeal he imagined, but he wasn't naive enough to think there wouldn't be problems along the way. All marriages experienced setbacks; he didn't know what to expect from one that had so little foundation to build on.

As he watched his inquisitive dog investigate the interesting smells coming from his neighbor's garbage cans, he resolved not to force his company on Hannah. He would treat her exactly the same as he always did. In no way did he want her to feel like she had to spend all her free time with him. They might be married, but there wasn't anything conventional about their relationship.

When he turned the corner, he saw her standing on the front porch, the setting sun gilding her dark hair with an amber glow. He knew the road he'd chosen wasn't going to be easy. Having Hannah living with him in the house was going to challenge his endurance and self-control. They hadn't discussed the possibility of a physical relationship, and Jackson had no intention of bringing the subject up. As much as he desired her, he wanted her to come to him in love.

"Anything wrong?" he asked when he got closer.

"No, I just came out for some air. Are we going to early or late service tomorrow?"

Jackson fished a few dog biscuits out of his pocket and gave them to Freya. "Let's go to late service. It's been an exhausting week for both of us. Do you like blueberry pancakes?"

"Doesn't everyone?"

"That's what I make every Sunday for breakfast."

"My mouth is watering already. I hate to bring the practical into our special day, but could you take a look at my essay? I have to turn it in by midnight."

He laughed as they walked into the house. "Sure. Let me feed the beast, and I'll join you in the living room."

When he returned, she was sitting on the couch. She patted the cushion next to her. "Do you mind reading it on my laptop? I don't have my printer set up yet."

As he sat down next to her, he said, "I'll take care of that tomorrow. Don't let me forget."

Hannah slid the laptop onto his legs. "Don't hold back; if it's terrible, tell me."

"For that I'll have to take off my husband hat and put on my tutor hat."

"I don't care what hat you put on just read it."

When he finished, he said, "It's good. I didn't know all that about Nathaniel Hawthorne."

"So it makes sense?"

"Yes, it does. You write much better than I do."

She took the laptop from him and set it on the coffee table. Pointing to the Bible, she said, "Now that I'm living here, I can read with you every night."

"I was hoping you'd want to do that." Jackson picked it up off the table, turned to the book of Matthew and started to read. Though he was unsure of when or if he would ever be a husband to Hannah in the physical sense, he was grateful for the opportunity to share spiritual things with her. He was hardly aware of the pa.s.sing of time until he heard the chime of the clock in the kitchen. With an apologetic glance in her direction, he closed the Bible. "I didn't mean to keep you so long. You should have said something."

"Why? I enjoyed listening to you. You have an attractive voice."

He laughed uncertainly. "Do I?"

"You also have beautiful eyes." She leaned closer. "They're a sort of purplish-blue now, but usually they're just dark blue."

"You can stop now. You've officially embarra.s.sed me."

"Then I better not comment on your muscles. Am I not supposed to notice those either?"

"Compliments mess around with a man's common sense. That can be dangerous when he's alone with a beautiful woman."

"So you're telling me I married a dangerous man?"

Jackson could no longer keep a straight face. "I'm about as dangerous as a puppy."

"Yes, I know, and you have no idea how nice it is." She stood up slowly. "I think I'll go to bed now if you don't mind."

"Goodnight, Hannah."

That first day set the pattern for the ones that followed. Jackson woke up on a sunny, but cool winter morning and realized with some surprise that he'd been married two months. While he was trying to figure out where the time had gone, Freya hopped off the bed and waited impatiently by the door.

"Don't give me that look, missy. You don't have a b.u.m leg, and you don't have to get dressed." Once he was outside the covers, a shiver went through him. Hoping Hannah had been warm enough during the night, he dragged on a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt. He refused to think about the fact that neither of them would have to worry about being cold if they were sharing a bed.

Once the coffee was going, Jackson fed Freya and started frying bacon. He was dropping blueberries into pancake batter when Hannah strolled into the kitchen. He turned to look at her, his heart doing its usual thumping routine. It didn't matter that her hair was sticking out all over, her face was pink from sleep or that her once slim figure was showing signs of her advancing pregnancy. In Jackson's eyes, she'd never looked more beautiful.

"Good morning."

She walked over and surprised him by slipping her arm around his waist. "It was my turn to cook breakfast."

Jackson felt the warmth of her touch through his shirt. "You can pour the orange juice."

"I don't want to move you're so warm."

She had been cold! What kind of husband was he? "I should have turned on the heater last night."

"You're spoiling me, Jackson." She moved to the refrigerator and removed a gla.s.s pitcher. "If you're not cooking my meals, you're doing my laundry. In case you didn't know, those are things a wife usually does."

Laughing softly, he scooped the pancakes out of the pan and onto a plate. "I like spoiling you." He noticed Hannah's hands rubbing her belly. "What is it?"

She smiled. "The baby is moving."

A look of wonder pa.s.sed over his face. "What does it feel like?"

Instead of answering him, she took his hand and placed it on her tummy. After a few minutes, he said, "It's like she's kicking her little feet against a wall."

"She's kicking? What makes you think this baby is a girl?"

He shrugged. "I guess it's because I can't help thinking how nice it would be to have another little Hannah running around."

Sitting down at the table, she poured juice into two gla.s.ses. "When you say things like that, I realize how unfair I've been to you."

"Unfair? How do you figure that?"

Instead of answering his question, she asked one. "Why did you marry me, Jackson?"

A teasing smile appeared. "Because you asked me to."

She chewed on her bottom lip. "I know that, but sometimes I get the feeling that you...that you..."

"That I what?"

"Oh, I can't say it. It sounds presumptuous and conceited."

"You're neither of those things, and you know you can say anything to me."

Hannah absently picked up a slice of bacon. "The way you look at me and the things you do for me aren't the actions of a man who thinks of me as just a friend."

"Is that a problem?" he asked as he joined her at the table.

"You deserve someone who returns your feelings."

Jackson caught her fingers in his hand. "You let me worry about that."

Her eyes fell to her plate. "I can't help but worry about it. You're the last person in the world who I want to hurt."

"As we've already discussed, loving someone involves a measure of pain." When she continued to look troubled, he went on. "I knew going into this that your heart belonged to someone else."

"How can you be content with so little?"

He gently released her hand. "Because this is more than I ever expected to have."

"I hope I never give you a reason to regret it."

Jackson pa.s.sed her the syrup. "There's nothing you can do that would make me regret it. Have you decided what color you want to use in the bathroom?"

She accepted his change of subject with a small smile. "I like the light green you showed me. What was it called?"

His lips twitched. "I believe it was Spirit Whisper."

"You're kidding, right?"