Renee Ryan - Finally a Bride

“Don’t you?” His lips twisted. “We both know you take great delight in leading men around by the nose, then casting them aside when you’re through with them.”

“I most certainly do not.” Now he was just being mean. And that wasn’t like Garrett, past or present.

Why this antagonism? It seemed so...so...personal. There hadn’t been anything personal between them in years.

As the daughter of a seasoned lawman, Molly knew when to stand and fight, and when to beat a tactical retreat. The latter was in order, but Garrett still held her.

“Let me go,” she whispered, keeping her voice free of emotion. “Please.”

His hands abruptly released her. Palms facing forward, Garrett stepped back, though he kept his gaze locked with hers, watching her closely. “Where’s Mrs. Singletary?”

“Having tea with a friend.”

“Ah.” The answer seemed to satisfy him, but the anger was still there, simmering just beneath the surface.

She found her own anger rising to meet his. “I fear I am one full step behind. Tell me.” She kept her voice even, her tone as cool as his. “What have I done to offend you?”

Pulling in a deep breath, he looked away. She saw the conflict in him, the rough tug of emotion he struggled to keep under control. He shifted his stance. Shadows from the awning overhead curtained his face, hiding his eyes from her now.

“Fanny has broken off her engagement with Reese.”

“She—” Molly’s hand flew to her throat “—what?”

“You heard me.”

No. No, no, no. That couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t. Thinking back to their last conversation, she sought to recall every word that had passed between them.

What had she said to her friend? Surely, Fanny hadn’t misunderstood her advice. “I need to speak with her.”

She set out down the sidewalk.

Garrett stopped her with a light grip on her arm. “She won’t see you.” He released his hold when she glanced pointedly at his hand. “Even Callie can’t get her to come out of her room and talk this over rationally.”

This was awful, absolutely terrible and so unlike her friend.

“Oh, Fanny,” Molly whispered softly. “What have you done?”

“What do you think she’s done? She’s followed your lead.”

Garrett blamed her for this? “I would never wish the pain of a broken engagement on anyone, not ever.”

“Is that so?” He didn’t seem convinced. “Then why did Fanny tell Reese that their union didn’t...add up?”

His words wrapped around her, replacing her previous sense of outrage with bone-deep guilt. “She...she actually said that, that she thought they didn’t...add up?”

“Let me guess.” Garrett towered over her, glaring down from his superior height. “You gave her one of your formulas to apply to her situation.”

Molly stiffened, but didn’t deny the accusation. She kept her head high, while her mind raced back to the alcove in the law firm.

You’re perfect for one another, she’d said to her friend. Fanny had agreed quickly, perhaps a bit too quickly. And then she’d said something altogether off-putting. So everyone keeps telling me.

Such a revealing response, and yet Molly hadn’t made the connection, not completely.

“What was the equation you gave her?” Garrett asked, his voice disturbingly patient. “I need to know exactly what you said if I’m going to fix this for her.”

Molly lifted her chin even higher. “I gave her a simple equation, with only four variables.”

“Four variables,” he repeated, his gaze softening for a split second as he inched closer. “Only four, like always?”

“Yes, like always.”

Her stomach did a slow, spiraling somersault. She remembered the times they used to walk the rugged land, hand in hand, discussing their plans for the future. It hurt to realize how close they’d once been and yet how far apart they were now. Their chance at happiness had come and gone, in its place only long intervals of loneliness.

“What were the variables?” Not waiting for her answer, he stepped back, looking pensive. She’d seen him like this too many times not to recognize that he was in planning mode.

At least his anger had dissipated a bit.

Sighing, Molly wrapped her arms tightly around her waist. “I told her to start with prayer.”

“A wise beginning,” he admitted, a bit reluctantly if his grudging tone was anything to go by.

“Then I said she should spend time in the Bible.”

“Sound advice.” He released a jagged breath. “And the third variable?”

“Trust in the Lord’s guidance, of course.”

“Of course.” He almost smiled at her then, not quite but almost. It gave her the courage to continue.

“And, lastly,” she squared her shoulders, “I told her...”

She broke off, pressed her lips tightly together and looked away, because now she knew why Fanny had broken off her engagement with Reese.

Clearly, her friend had been far more upset than she’d let on, and Molly hadn’t seen it. She hadn’t recognized that Fanny was deeply confused. In pain. Alone with her terrible doubts and concerns.

If only she had recognized the truth.

Would it have made a difference? No, she would have given her friend the same advice.

“Molly.” Garrett’s voice dropped to a whisper. “What was the fourth variable you gave my sister?”

She fought back a wave of sorrow, and maybe a little envy, knowing that Fanny had adopted the one part of the equation Molly had failed to apply to her own life.

Twice, she’d convinced herself the final variable wasn’t important. Twice, she’d lied to herself. Twice, she’d suffered the utter humiliation of abandonment by a man who had proposed and claimed to love her above all others.

“I told her to—”

“The exact words, Molly. Your exact words.”

“I said.” She stared into Garrett’s handsome, severe face with nothing but regret washing over her. “Follow your heart.”

* * *

Follow your heart.

Only as Molly pronounced those three perplexing words did Garrett realize why he’d been so uncomfortable hearing them in Reese’s office. She’d given him the exact same advice seven years ago, when he’d struggled over whether to become a full-time rancher like his brothers, or pursue a career in law.

Both avenues had appealed, for very different reasons. One had meant the comfort and safety of the known, of family. The other had called for a leap of faith, but had promised freedom from forever being labeled as that “other” Mitchell boy.

Although he was satisfied with his choice—now—Garrett had been torn back then. Molly had methodically broken down each choice with him, calling on Scripture to reinforce various points. In the end, she’d left the decision up to him, with one final word of advice. You must follow your heart, Garrett.

Follow his heart? What did that mean anyway? He still wasn’t sure.

If Molly had given him any indication she wanted him to stay home, he would have become a rancher in a heartbeat. No regrets. But she hadn’t asked. She’d let him walk away from her, and all the plans they’d made in secret.

You didn’t ask her to come with you, either. You didn’t ask her to wait for you.

No. She was supposed to fight for him, for them. But she hadn’t. So he’d left. Angry, hurt, miserable.

Pride. He’d had more than his share back then, probably still did. A trait he had in common with the lovely woman staring up at him.

Long day, he thought, rubbing a hand over his face. Long, never-ending day full of too much emotion and too many memories.

“Thank you, Molly. I appreciate your honesty.”

She opened her mouth to respond.

But Garrett wasn’t finished. “You have lent me considerable perspective on the situation.”