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one.”
    “Of course you do.”
    Mr. Walthall laughed. “Give me a chance to change your mind.”
    Brock urged her to sit while the jeweler pulled out a tray of diamonds that made her blink. Although she and her mother had lived in a nice place, they’d been careful with their money. Her mother had always worked and Elle had attended a state college. She’d never envisioned wearing a ring that looked like it cost more than her tuition had. “These are all so big,” she said.
    Mr. Walthall chuckled again. “That’s not a complaint, is it?”
    “I’m just overwhelmed,” she said.
    “What I like to ask my clients is, what is your dream engagement ring? All these years, you must have secretlydreamed about the ring you might receive from the man you chose to marry,” Mr. Walthall said.
    Elle closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Had she ever dreamed about an engagement ring? More often, she’d dreamed of having a father. Then, she’d dreamed of finding a man who would love her as much as she loved him. She’d known Brock would never love her like that, but she hadn’t been able to resist him. If she was going to have a ring, why not make it meaningful, at least to her? “What is December’s birthstone?”
    Mr. Walthall lifted his shoulders. “It depends. Blue topaz, tanzanite or ruby, depending on your point of view.”
    “Why do you ask?” Brock asked.
    “The baby is due in December,” she said.
    She saw sadness and something else she couldn’t quite read in his eyes. “My father’s birthday is in December.”
    Elle felt a riveting connection with Brock ripple through her. How amazing that their child would be born in the same month as Brock’s father. “I’d like to see some options that would include blue topaz, tanzanite or ruby.”
    “Very nice. I always like it when a couple makes a choice that has personal meaning,” Mr. Walthall said.
    Within a matter of minutes, she had chosen a series of beautiful tanzanite stones to accent a solitaire diamond. “A half-carat diamond,” she suggested.
    Mr. Walthall’s face fell. “A half?”
    “Eight carats,” Brock corrected.
    Elle felt her eyes nearly bug out of her face. “I’ll need a crane,” she protested.
    “You may not realize this, but your ring is not just a reflection of your taste. It’s a reflection of me, too,” Brock said.
    She bit her lip, thinking he was spending an obscene amount of money. “You could feed a third-world country with this,” she wailed.
    “If it will make it easier for you, I’ll send out a donation matching the cost of the ring tomorrow,” Brock said wryly.
    “Can we knock it down to three?” she asked.
    “Five. That’s final,” he said.
    Elle looked at the jeweler, who appeared totally bemused by their negotiations. “I guess it’s five.”
    Mr. Walthall nodded. “It will be a beautiful ring.”
    “When can you have it?” Brock asked.
    “When would you like it?” Mr. Walthall replied.
    “Tomorrow,” he said.
    “As you wish, sir.” Mr. Walthall put the trays into his suitcase and clicked them closed. “It’s a pleasure to do business with you. If you change your mind and wish to increase the size of the diamond tomorrow morning, just give me a call and we can make the adjustment.”
    The jeweler left and silence fell over Brock and Elle like a blanket.
    Brock cleared his throat. “I didn’t realize the baby would be born the same month as my father’s birthday.”
    She looked up at him. “Does it bother you?”
    He paused a long moment and his gaze softened. “No. It sounds crazy, but I think it will be a comfort.”
    She stared at him in surprise. He was a strong man who never asked for comfort, who never seemed to needcomfort. Unable to keep herself from reaching out to him, she lifted her hand.
    He drew back. “I want you to stay here tonight,” he said.
    “Why?” she demanded, hurt by his rejection of her gesture. “There’s no reason I can’t stay with my mother