I found the fruit stand easily enough.Therewere baskets overflowing with peaches—large, golden fruits with pink blushes on their skins that smelled absolutely heavenly.Mymouth watered immediately, andIcould practically hear the baby demanding that we bring some home.
"Oh, those arebeautiful,"Imurmured.
"They're the best in the county."
The voice belonged to the woman running the stand andIsmiled politely at her asIreached for one of the peaches.
And thenIheard a familiar voice.Itwasn’t close by or even particularly loud, butIknew that voice as soon asIheard it.
My entire body went still and my ears strained.Itold myselfImust be mistaken—it was impossible—a hallucination brought on by my crazy pregnancy cravings or many just wishful thinking.
But thenIheard it again.Deepand soft and steady—a voiceIcould never forget.
The peach slipped from my fingers and landed back in the basket with a softthump.
No.No, it couldn’t be.Myheart began pounding so hard it hurt.Icouldn’t let myself believe it.Therewere thousands of men inColorado.Plentyof them probably sounded like that—likehim.
My hands started shaking.Slowly, afraid of whatImight see and even more afraid of whatIwouldn't,Iturned around.
At firstIcouldn't find him—there were too many people.Toomany booths and faces.Evenif it was him,Iwould never find him.
Then, the crowd shifted…andIsaw him.
He was standing near a truck loaded with crates of vegetables, helping an older man unload them.Hewore faded jeans and a blue flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.Hishair was a little longer than it had been whenI'dlast seen him and he had a beard now, but none of that mattered.
Because it was him.
It wasKorand he wasalive.
For a moment the entire world seemed to stop turning.Icouldn't breathe…couldn't think.Icouldn't even blink.Isimply stood there staring at him while my heart tried to beat its way out of my chest.
Alive, alive—dearGoddess, he’s alive!a little voice in my head chanted.ButstillIcouldn’t believe it—couldn’t believe it was really him.
I’m seeing a ghost,Ithought.Eitherthat orI’vefinally lost my mind.OhmyGod, ifI’mcrazy, who’s going to take care of the baby?
And then, as though he felt me looking at him,Korstraightened and glanced across the market.
Our eyes met andIwatched the color drain from his face.
The crate he was holding slipped from his hands and hit the ground.Vegetablesrolled everywhere but he didn’t even seem to notice.
"Vivienne?"he said.
Or maybeIimagined him speaking—I’mnot sure.Becausesuddenly, everything seemed very far away.Thepeople and the booths and the whole market started to fade and everything got very dim—even the bright sunshine faded to gray.
The last thingIremember seeing wasKorshoving his way through the crowd toward me with a look of absolute shock on his face.
Then the world tilted sideways…
And everything went dark.
FIFTY-SIX
VIVIENNE
The first thingIbecame aware of was warmth…warmth and safety.Strongarms around me and a steady heartbeat beneath my cheek.
For one wonderful, impossible moment,IthoughtIwas dreaming but then a familiar scent reached me.Warmmasculine spice and freshly done laundry.Itwashisscent—Iwould know it anywhere.
