If I Only Had A...Husband (The Bridal Circle #1)

by Andrea Edwards

  “What happened?” he demanded as he hurried down the steps.

  “Just a little accident,” she said with a laugh as she closed the truck door and hobbled along. “I twisted my ankle.”

  The screen door banged behind him. “Penny!” Aunty Em cried. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” she assured them.

  Her smile was bright, but Brad could see the effort it was taking to maneuver the crutches. And it hurt him.

  “There’s an easier way to do this,” he said and took the crutches from her, leaning them against the truck while supporting her with one arm. Then he swung her up into his arms.

  “This isn’t necessary,” she protested. “I can use the crutches.”

  “You need to rest that ankle,” he said.

  She felt so good in his arms, not heavy at all. It was like carrying silk. Or flowers. Or fire. A certain warmth ate at him. He carried her up onto the porch, through the kitchen door Aunty Em was holding open, and set her down in a chair.

  And took a deep breath to ease the tension out of his heart.

  “Mmm. Dinner smells good,” she said. “Just let me wash up—”

  “Just you sit there,” he said. “I’ll get your crutches and bring you into the bathroom.”

  She frowned at him as she tried to stand. “You’ll do no such thing.”

  “Stop arguing, Penny,” Aunty Em said. “Brad, you go get the crutches. I’ll keep her here.”

  Brad hurried out into the yard, grabbed up the crutches and went back up the steps. He should have gone with her in the truck today instead of staying in the office and then stopping in to see Dorothy about the house. If he had been with Penny, this wouldn’t have happened..

  “I’m not helpless,” she was saying to Aunty Em. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to drive for a few days, but I can move around the house.”

  “Of course, you can’t drive,” Brad said and leaned the crutches against the wall. “You shouldn’t do anything but rest. At least over the weekend.”

  “I don’t need to rest for two days,” she said. “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine.” He bent down and picked her up again. The fire came back, harder and stronger, but he denied its presence. This was about helping, not wanting. “This bathroom okay, or do you want to use the one upstairs?”

  “How about the one in the next county?” she said, trying for a sarcastic sugary sweetness but falling short. “I hope you aren’t planning on staying in there with me.”

  “I can if you want,” he said.

  “I don’t.”

  “Penny, be nice,” Aunty Em scolded. “We’re lucky Brad is here to help us.”

  “I know, I know.” She did manage a smile. “And I have a big big favor to ask him.”

  He put her down just inside the bathroom door. “Whatever you want,” he said. “You should know that.”

  She leaned against the doorpost, looking both frail and amaz hgly fit. “I wondered if you could drive me to my meeting tonight?”

  “You’re not thinking of going?” Aunty Em argued. “For coodness’ sake, you can miss one and the festival won’t colapse.”

  But Brad just looked at her eyes, at the soft green that did the craziest things to his knees. And at the stubbornness in her saw that said if he didn’t drive her, she’d try to drive herself. “Sure,” he said. “I’d be happy to.”

  “And can you drive me around on the job tomorrow?” she asked.

  There was a little tremor of worry and hope in her voice that ed his stomach up in knots. “You really ought to stay off that unkle,” he forced himself to say.

  “The more you use it, the longer it’ll take to heal,” Aunty m added.

  Penny’s eyes got watery and her lip trembled as she looked up at him. “We just have so much work because of the storm,” he said. “And the money will go a long way toward getting Gran’s other hip fixed.”

  “Land sakes, girl, I told you I don’t want them messing with my other hip. Give me a chance to get used to the one they just fixed.”

  But Brad barely heard the old woman. All he heard was the eed in Penny’s voice and the way it made his heart pound ud enough to drown out his better judgment. “I’ll drive you s long as you need me to,” he said. “A few days. A few weeks. A few months.”

  Penny smiled and straightened up enough to close the door. ‘You’re such a sweetie. I’ll feel so much better with you right ext to me.”

  Why did he feel then that he was suddenly in danger?

  Chapter Six

  After an hour or so of Aunty Em’s and Brad’s fussing, Penny was ready to confess. She didn’t think she could stand one more sigh from Aunty Em or one more scurry to help from Brad. If she wasn’t doing this for such a good cause—getting Dorothy and Toto together—she would have caved in, just to save her sanity.

  But she soon realized there were other—worse—threats to her sanity. Like riding into town with Brad that evening.

  He was so gentle and so concerned, it tore at her heart. First she felt like a rat for pulling this trick on him, and just about the time she convinced herself she’d had no choice—and that it was his own fault for coming back with designs on Dorothy—Penny began to wonder what it would be like to have someone care about her like this for real.

  All in all, she’d never had a more depressing ride into town and when Brad pulled her truck into a handicapped spot in the library parking lot, she was ready for a fight.

  “You can’t park here,” she snapped.

  “You’re handicapped.”

  “I am not. And I don’t have a permit to use this space.”

  “What do you think those crutches say?” he argued. His voice was all patient, which annoyed her even further. “While you’re using them, you’re permitted to park here.”

  Damn. Since when had he taken sensitivity training? No, that was unfair. He’d always been kind. “Just move the truck,” she said wearily.

  “Why do you have to be so stubborn?” Still gentle, but not quite as patient.

  “Whose truck is this?”

  “Yours.” Definitely not patient anymore.

  “And who has an extra set of keys in her pocket and can park it anywhere she chooses once you get out?”

  “You.”

  “Then would you—” she put a heavy emphasis on the you “—quit being stubborn and move this damn truck like I told you to?”

  With nothing either gentle or patient in his actions, he put the car in gear and, tires squealing, drove it to an open spot in the middle of the lot.

  “How’s this?” he asked.

  “Wonderful.”

  He turned off the ignition and got out of the truck, while she opened her door and climbed awkwardly out. He’d better not even think about—

  “Here.” He was around at her side and ducking down to pick her up. “Let me—”

  She whacked him with her crutch.

  “What did you do that for?” he asked, rubbing his shoulder. “Man, I can see why you didn’t get the part of Tiny Tim when we put on A Christmas Carol in fifth grade.”

  She just glared at him and made her way slowly across the lot. It was bad enough that she’d had to trick him into being with her. She wasn’t going to let him wait on her, too.

  “My goodness, Penny.” An elderly man came hurrying over as they neared the door to the building. “What happened?”

  “Nothing serious, Mr. Mayberry. I just twisted my ankle.”

  “You poor dear.” The man hurried around them and opened the door for Penny. “Here you are, struggling with those crutches, while a big, strapping, young man is walking along beside you, doing nothing.”

  Brad just grunted under his breath, doubling Penny’s guilt. It wasn’t enough that she had tricked him, now others were thinking poorly of him.

  “It’s okay,” Penny assured the old man slowly. “Really it is. I’m fine.”

  “You’re so lucky that this didn’t happen befo
re that television interview of yours,” he added.

  Penny didn’t comment, not sure how a sprained ankle would affect her speaking ability and not sure she wanted to know. They went down the hall and into the meeting room, passing a table of refreshments near the door.

  “Want some iced tea?” Brad asked.

  “Yes, thank you.” she said. “That would be great.”

  She hobbled around the table to her regular place at the head. These crutches were awful. She wasn’t sure she was going to last a couple of hours on them, let alone a couple of days. Sinking gratefully into her chair, she slipped her crutches under the table.

  “Pen, what happened?”.

  Penny looked up and her heart sank into her toes. Dorothy.

  “What are you doing here?” Penny asked. Her voice was as weak and wobbly as her ankle was supposed to be. All this to keep Brad safely with her, and they had to run into Dorothy anyway!

  “Cross committee reports,” Dorothy said. Her frown said something had been amiss in Penny’s tone. “I’ve got the report from the parade committee to give you guys.”

  “Oh.” Penny tried to make her voice all bubbly. “Great. I forgot we were due for the other reports tonight.”

  Dorothy looked up, sending a bright smile over Penny’s shoulder. “Hi, Brad,” she said. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

  “I hadn’t planned on it.” He put a glass of tea down in front of Penny, then put an arm briefly around Dorothy’s waist. “But when I heard you were going to be here tonight I decided wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”

  Dorothy laughed.

  “Can I get you some tea, too?” he asked as he stepped away from her.

  Dorothy took his arm with an intimate smile. “Yes, you may, but only if I can come with you. I want to ask you something.”

  Penny could do nothing but just stare as Dorothy and Brad walked toward the front of the room, arm in arm. Damn and double damn. Stuck with this stupid masquerade, she couldn’t even go down and make it a threesome.

  “Isn’t that sweet?”

  Penny turned. Nancy Abbott, the receptionist in Dorothy’s office, had sat down next to her, a sappy smile on her face as she watched Brad and Dorothy at the refreshment table.

  “I thought something was going on when I saw them this afternoon,” she said. “I’m so happy for Dorothy.”

  Penny just watched the happy couple, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. “I always thought Dorothy would end up with Toto.”

  “Not like Toto hasn’t had his chances,” Nancy remarked. “And Brad is just so perfect for her.”

  Was he? Or was Dorothy going to be hurt? Brad had told Penny that he was a loner, that he wasn’t looking for a relationship. Maybe it was even more important to protect Dorothy.

  But just how could she do that?

  As Brad drove home he listened to the sound of the tires on the county road and breathed in the cool night air. It was relaxing, refreshing. All around them it was still, with just the occasional house light to remind him they weren’t totally alone. About as far from Los Angeles as one could get and still be on this planet.

  Penny was quiet, too. Almost too quiet. He turned onto a smaller road, the headlights sweeping the cornfields for a moment before returning to bathe the blacktop. Two racoons scurried across the road up ahead, but he felt no answering smile from Penny. He felt the need to help her find it.

  “I was glad somebody brought a copy of your TV interview to the meeting so I could see it myself,” he said, drenching his voice in enthusiasm. “You did great.”

  “Thanks.”

  She sounded quiet, tired. Brad tightened his hold on the steering wheel. He should have made her skip that meeting tonight. Her ankle was probably aching and she needed distraction from the pain.

  “And to have the clip included in a nationally syndicated show on festivals was really great,” he added. “You’re getting good coverage for the festival.”

  “Yeah,” she said staring blankly out the window.

  Well, that sure cheered her up. Maybe she was worried about all the work she had to do cleaning up the storm damage. Not that she needed to. He would take care of that, too.

  “And I’ll bet that coverage will bring in the donations. Heck, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone wasn’t writing a check for the Boys and Girls Club float right this very minute.”

  “I hope so,” Penny said. “I can’t believe that their sponsor backed out at this late date. The kids must be so heartbroken. They’ve always had a Munchkin float.”

  “And they will this year, too. I’ll bet my last dollar on it.”

  She just sighed and stared out the window. Her obvious worry concerned him. He needed to hear her laughter, to feel her smile in the air.

  “So, what do you say?” he continued. “Want to place a bet?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Ah, you’re either chicken,” he challenged, “or just bowing to my superior psychic skills.”

  “Neither,” she said. A little of her normal spirit had come back into her voice. “I just don’t bet on things that are out of our control.”

  But this wasn’t. Did he tell her that or just send in the donation? He had wanted her to notice how he’d changed, but she hadn’t yet. And maybe wouldn’t. But still, telling her he would give the money seemed too much like bragging.

  “What do you bet on?” he asked. “Sure things? That’s not really betting, you know.”

  He could feel her bristle with annoyance and feel her glaring at him, but he just kept his eyes on the road.

  “Have you ever been tempted by a long-term relationship?” she asked.

  He glanced her way, startled by the sudden change of topic, but he was unable to read anything in the air around her. What had brought this up? Her voice had a quiet serious note in it that said this was not an idle question.

  “Not really,” he said slowly. He hated these questions that popped up literally out of the darkness. If he knew what she was upset about, he’d know how to answer. “I just don’t want to share the things you have to share in a long-term relationship.”

  “You mean, you haven’t ever told your feelings to anyone?” she asked. “You’ve never once found somebody you wanted to open yourself up to?”

  “Nope.”

  “But you date,” she said.

  “Yeah.” He wasn’t sure where this was heading.

  “So, you always know going in that it’s only temporary?”

  He slowed down to turn into her driveway. “Yeah. I know. But it’s not like I keep it a secret,” he said. He eased the truck over the gravelly bumps. “I never pretend otherwise.”

  “But people still could get hurt,” she said.

  “I guess.” Damn, he wished he knew where this was heading. “But I don’t normally stay around long, just so that won’t happen.”

  “It’s not always a question of time,” she noted.

  “True. So I’m careful. You’d be surprised how many women aren’t interested in long-term, either.”

  “Maybe they’ve been hurt before.”

  “Or seen others who’ve been hurt.”

  “Or just like the solitude.”

  “Or have things they want to do before they settle down.”

  For some reason, the conversation died at that point. Maybe it was because he was pulling up to the house, or maybe it was just weariness catching up with her. He turned off the motor.

  “I’ll come around and help you,” he said.

  “I’m fine, really,” she said and was halfway out the door by the time he got around. “My ankle really doesn’t hurt much at all.”

  “Okay.”

  He let her go, just watching as she walked across the yard and up the steps. Something about her said he should give her space and he was not going to violate that, even though being pushed aside hurt. She went into the house and after the screen door banged shut, he heard muffled voices.

&nbs
p; Turning away, he walked into the shadows of the oak tree by the old barn. The yard was dark where the lights from the porch and the house couldn’t reach, and he felt himself relax. It had been a long few days. In some unexplainable way, he’d felt under siege and welcomed the chance to catch his breath.

  It was so strange to be back in Chesterton. Sometimes it felt as if he’d never left. Other times, he felt like a stranger. Sometimes he wanted to try to push back time and remember the friendships they used to have. Other times, the past was stifling and today was freedom. The world was at his feet.

  He sank down onto the old concrete bench and breathed in the cool night air. In it were all the smells of the growing earth, the rain in days past and the promise of warmth of tomorrow. If he looked up between the branches of the tree, he could see a sprinkling of stars across the night sky.

  “You see that star over there?” Penny said. She’d been sitting on the fence between the daylilies and the irises, her feet on the lower rail as her eyes gazed up at the night sky. “The really bright one? That’s the wishing star. Anything you wish on it, you’ll get.”

  “Oh yeah?” He didn’t bother to look at it, but went on reeling in the hose. He was well acquainted with that star; he wished on it nightly from his bedroom window, and so far it hadn’t produced a thing for him.

  “Don’t you believe in wishes?” she asked.

  What could he say? That he’d wished for weeks, months, years even that she’d like him? That he’d wished for aeons to find clever words to win a smile from her? Yet she still saw him only as the kid who helped her dad and he still had no witty words to change that.

  “I don’t think wishing’s going to get my chores done,” was all he said.

  She jumped down from the fence. “You’re such an old grouch,” she accused. “Someday you’re going to want to make a really big wish and you’re not going to know how.” She stomped off into the barn and the night had gotten that much darker.

  Brad got to his feet and walked slowly back to the house. He was too old to make wishes now, and too smart. Wishes wouldn’t keep—