Helen Lacey - Three Reasons To Wed

There was pain and longing in his voice, and Marissa’s heart constricted. “I still miss Liz every day.”

“Me, too,” he said.

Marissa’s throat tightened. They’d talked about Liz many times during the past two and a half years, and yet she still felt the emotion rise up. It would always be like that. Liz was one of a kind. And her one true friend in the whole world.

“She was so...grounded. So sensible. Exactly the friend I needed as a teenager growing up. My mother had just died and since I never knew my dad... I guess that’s why I was drawn to her. Her life was so different from mine, and yet we became firm friends. I guess she seemed to have this picture-perfect family.”

“Nothing is perfect. Her parents put a lot of pressure on her. I think that’s why she...” His words trailed and he grinned ruefully. “You know.”

“Rebelled and married you? But she adored you.”

“It was mutual. She made loving easy.”

Marissa’s heart tightened. She’d longed for that kind of love. She’d never seen it firsthand until Liz and Grady had gotten together and married. Her mother had raised her alone until Marissa was twelve, and Aunt Violet had never married. Her father, whom she only knew was some random cowboy who’d drifted through town, was never mentioned. Whenever she’d asked Violet, her aunt had told her to leave the past where it belonged. When she’d married Simon, Marissa believed she’d found the kind of love and family she was looking for—until he betrayed her with another woman.

Shaking off the memories, she focused on Grady. “I know she did. Liz had a great capacity for love...and a big heart.”

“A weak heart, as it turned out,” he said soberly.

Marissa nodded. The car accident that had landed Liz in the hospital was a result of a virus that had caused a massive heart attack. At just twenty-nine, she died three days later from a second attack. Six weeks after the birth of her third child, with her husband and family at her side.

“I’ll always marvel at her strength that day,” Marissa said quietly. “She knew... She knew she was so very ill, and she still made the time to talk to me and Aunt Violet. The last thing she told me was about you.”

One brow rose. “It was?”

“Yes. She asked me to make sure you weren’t sad all the time.”

“Well, I’m not,” he said and smiled. “The girls make that impossible.”

“I know. And they adore you. You’re a good dad.”

He smiled. “Thank you. They adore you, too, by the way. I appreciate you taking the time for them today. Painting nails and cupcakes aren’t really my specialty. Heaven help me when they hit puberty.”

She chuckled. “I’m sure you’ll do just fine. And it was my pleasure to spend time with them,” she assured him. “I think of it as good practice for when I have kids of my own one day.”

His gaze narrowed. “So, you want children? I thought you might have started a family while you were married.”

A familiar pain lodged behind her ribs. “Simon didn’t want children. Just as well, really, considering the divorce.”

“That’s a shame for him. It might have made him a better man.”

“Nothing would have done that.”

Grady’s brows came up. “Really? You know, you never did say why you broke up.”

Marissa shrugged. It was an old hurt she had no intention of sharing. “Irreconcilable differences.”

“Because he was a pretentious jerk, you mean?”

Marissa laughed. “Something like that. I wasn’t aware he’d made such a bad impression.”

“Sure you were,” Grady flipped back. “He called the town Hicksville and me John Wayne, remember?”

She laughed again. She did remember. Simon had complained the entire duration of their trip. He’d refused the invitation to stay at the ranch or Aunt Violet’s and then had complained about the modest motel accommodation in town.

“I’m sure he would have been better tempered if the O’Sullivan Hotel hadn’t been booked up that weekend. We had to stay at the Cedar Motel instead. It wasn’t so bad, but he complained for three days straight.”

“It wasn’t booked up,” Grady said and grinned. “Liz made that up just to antagonize him.”

Marissa laughed again. “Bless her. It worked.” She rattled her keys. “Well, I should get going. Thanks again for letting me spend the day with the girls. I hope they’re not too hyped up to sleep tonight.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

She was about to say goodbye when someone approached from around the side of the house. Marissa recognized Grady’s foreman, Rex Travers, and nodded when he came toward them.

“Afternoon, miss,” he said politely. “Boss says you’ve got some palings that need fixing.” He removed his hat and tilted his shaggy blond head with a kind of old-fashioned cowboy respect. “I thought I’d come around Monday morning, if that’s okay with you.”

Marissa smiled. “Of course. I’ll see you then.”

“Around nine, if that suits.”

“Sure,” she said and smiled at the older man. He was in his midfifties and had a kind, weathered sort of look about him. He’d worked at the ranch for about six years and by all accounts was a good man with a solid work ethic. She knew Grady wouldn’t tolerate anything else from the people who worked on the ranch. He said something to Grady about one of the cows and then ambled back toward the stables.

Marissa sighed. “Well, I’ll be off.”

He nodded. “Okay. Thanks again.”

“No problem.”

She was just about to open the driver’s door when he spoke again.

“If you want to learn to ride a horse, I’d be happy to teach you.”

She stilled. “Oh...sure. That would be great.”

“Get some boots and a safety helmet from the saddlers in town. It’s on the main street a few doors down from the old Loose Moose Tavern.”

“I know where it is,” she said. “And I saw the tavern today, or what’s left of it.”

He nodded. “Yeah, my crazy brother is thinking of buying the place and renovating it.”

“That would certainly give the O’Sullivans something to complain about,” she said and got into her car. Waving goodbye, she pulled away from the house.

As she drove off, she noticed he didn’t move. He watched her, the colored backpacks still flung over one shoulder, his expression unflinching. And she didn’t relax again until she pulled the car into Aunt Violet’s narrow driveway. It was only a five-minute commute between the two homes, and from the corner paddock she knew it was possible to see the roofline of Grady’s sprawling house.

She locked the car and walked around the cottage. There was a garden maintenance service in town and she made a mental note to call them on Monday to arrange for their help getting the yard back into shape. She’d talked to her aunt, and it looked as if it would still be at least three weeks before she’d be able to come home, if she came home at all. Aunt Violet had mentioned something this afternoon about moving closer to town, perhaps into one of the new retirement communities that had popped up near the hospital. If it meant selling the farm, then Marissa would certainly consider buying it. The cottage would look beautiful once again with some time and effort, and her aunt had suggested she think about doing something with the greenhouses Violet’s older brother, Frank, had built years earlier. Marissa had no memory of him but knew the place had been an organic farm once, so perhaps there was something she could do along those lines. Before she made any decisions she’d do some homework about the local economy and market.

Once she was inside, Marissa stripped off her clothes and took a long shower, then slipped into sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt and made herself a cup of tea. By the time she’d finished puttering in the kitchen, it was past seven-thirty and she was about to settle in front of the television for an hour or so when her cell rang.