by Liz Isaacson
Simone squealed, because there was nothing she liked more than planning a surprise.
Chapter Nine
Skyler held Mal’s hand as they waited in the sterile foyer outside the courtroom. John’s here, he told himself over and over. All the paperwork had been submitted, and all the interviews done. He and Mal had gone in separately for questioning, and Skyler had to take a couple of sleeping pills and schedule several counseling sessions after that.
He had so many memories of the FBI questioning in Dallas, and while the ICE agents had been nicer, he still hadn’t liked being contained in the tiny, windowless room while questions got fired at him.
“Our turn,” John said as the courtroom doors opened and a guard came out with a clipboard.
Skyler looked at Mal. There was no way the judge could rule that their marriage wasn’t real. Simply no way. It was the most real thing in Skyler’s life, and he loved Mal with everything inside him.
He put his hand on the small of her back and let her go in front of him as people filled the courtroom. It wasn’t the same one as last time, but close enough. A few rows for people to sit on. The huge podium that stretched across the room at the front, with the state seal and federal seal on the wall behind where the judge would sit. A feeling of anxiety, with a chill in the air. He didn’t like it at all.
Last time he’d been in a place like this, he’d felt one breath away from passing out. Today was marginally better, but his nerves still felt wildly out of control. He and Mal had stayed in the apartment last night, and they’d discussed keeping it.
Skyler saw no reason to get rid of the building or the apartment on the top floor. No, they hadn’t used it a whole lot in the year since they’d left Amarillo, but the point was, they could. Anyone in the family could. Her family could come stay there.
In the end, they’d decided to keep it. The building and the apartment weren’t costing them any money or time or energy, and Skyler liked the idea of being able to stay in Amarillo any old time he wanted—like last night.
Another case went before theirs, but Skyler couldn’t pay attention. He existed inside his own sphere, only coming out when Mal stood up and went up to the front table with John, their lawyer.
Then Skyler tuned in, and he looked at the man up front, praying with everything inside him that the ruling would be favorable.
“Mrs. Walker, I see you have all your paperwork in order,” the judge said.
“Yes, sir,” John answered for her. “And I believe the reports are all in. Mrs. Walker is thriving in a new job in Three Rivers, where she lives with her husband and all six of his brothers, as well as his parents.”
“I have the reports,” the judge said, a little testily too. Skyler wished John would just let him look at the stuff and make a decision. He kicked himself for not paying attention in the last case, because he would’ve been able to judge the official’s mood.
He looked at some papers, shuffling them slowly. Every second felt like an eternity, and Skyler’s patience stretched, and stretched, and stretched.
He finally looked up. “And you’re expecting a baby?”
John looked at Mal, and Skyler’s whole world narrowed to one pinprick of light.
“That’s right,” Mal said. “I’m due in September.”
The words rang in Skyler’s ears, and he didn’t hear what the judge said after that. Mal was pregnant?
A smile started on his face, and he realized John had turned to look at him. Panic streamed through him, erasing some of the smile. “I’m sorry. What?”
“He asked if you were excited to be a father,” John said almost under his breath.
“Yes, sir,” Skyler said, giddiness romping through him. He wanted to whoop and throw his cowboy hat into the air. He needed to take Mal into his arms right now and tell her how much he loved her. Buzzing sang along his skin, and Skyler almost felt frantic.
“Well, the reports said the marriage was definitely real, and I have to conclude the same thing,” the judge said. “You’ve got your conditional green card, Mrs. Walker. It’s good for two years, at which time you can apply for a permanent one.”
“Thank you, your honor,” Mal said.
“Yeah,” Skyler practically yelled. “Thank you.”
John’s frown silenced Skyler even as a few people in the courtroom chuckled. He couldn’t get to Mal fast enough, his eyes searching hers. He had the common sense not to ask her right there if what the judge had said was true, because Mal was already crying.
Out in the foyer, they thanked John, and Skyler just stood there, kind of numb.
Mal took his hand and led him around a corner, which gave them a smidge more privacy. “Surprise,” she whispered, her dark eyes looking right into his.
Skyler took her face in both of his hands, his love for her pure and growing by the moment. “I love you so much,” he said back. “I can’t—you didn’t tell me.”
“I was planning a surprise,” she said. “I didn’t know he was going to ask me about it.”
Skyler drew her into his chest, glad when she wrapped her arms around him too. “Are you really excited?” she asked.
“Of course,” he said. “Thrilled.” He pulled back and looked at her. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m a little scared.” A quick smile danced on her lips for a moment, and she swiped at her eyes. “I’ve never had a baby, and I don’t know how to be a mom.”
“You’ll be a great mom,” he said, gazing down at her as he realized with all of his cells that he was going to be a father. And no, he did not know how to do that. “We’ll figure it out together.”
Mal nodded and snuggled back into his chest. “What do you want? A boy or a girl?”
“I don’t care,” he said, still in awe that she was carrying his baby. He couldn’t wait to meet the tiny human, and September seemed miles away. “What about you?”
“Doesn’t matter to me,” she said.
“Can I tell Momma?” he asked.
“Maybe we can use my surprise to tell your family.”
He took her hand and they started toward the elevator. “What were you planning?”
“I was making a quilt, actually.”
“Oh? What kind of quilt?” He never went in her sewing room in the house, and that was the perfect place for her to plan a surprise. She started telling him about the baby blanket she was putting together, but all Skyler could think was, I’m going to be a dad.
And that was the greatest feeling in the whole world. Well, that and that his wife would get to stay with him, hopefully forever.
Chapter Ten
Micah had just dozed off when his doorbell rang. He sat straight up, his eyes flying to the front door. If the person on the other side was related to him, they would’ve just walked in. But as it was Sunday, after church and after lunch, they were probably all ready to take their afternoon naps too.
The person there knocked, and Micah couldn’t get away with ignoring them. He frowned as he crossed the living room and pulled open the door. That frown turned upside down when he saw Simone standing there with a cake in her hands.
“You were asleep, weren’t you?” She grinned at him, and every part of Micah lit up.
“No,” he said.
“And not a great liar.” She giggled, trying to peer past him. He stood in the doorway, drinking in the sight of her. He’d really wanted to sit beside her at church, because any sermon would be better with Simone’s hand in his. But she sat with her father and grandmother every week, and Micah hadn’t known how to pull her from them.
“Are you going to invite me in?” she asked, cocking her eyebrows. “Or do I have to stand on your porch all afternoon?”
Micah jolted into motion, stepping back and opening the door wider. “Come in.”
“Finally, I get to see the house.”
Micah’s nerves blitzed around his body for a reason he couldn’t name. But he’d better get used to it, because
he was planning on using his house as an example of the kind of work he could do for potential customers.
“Micah,” she said, her voice full of awe. “This place is gorgeous.”
“Is it?” he asked, glancing around. The exposed wood beams in the ceiling were a nice touch, he supposed. He’d had help from the woman at the furniture store to get the right rugs to go with the couches he’d bought. He’d designed and made the barstools, the cabinets, the dining room table. If it was wood, he’d touched it himself.
Simone gazed around, silent, and Micah could suddenly see all the flaws. “The blinds aren’t in yet,” he said. “Should be here Monday.”
“Uh huh,” she said.
He took the cake from her and walked around the corner to the kitchen, hoping she’d follow. She did, and he thought she’d seen something scary when she gasped.
“Oh, my goodness,” she said. “Look at this place.”
Micah had seen it all already. “Simone,” he said. “You’re being dramatic.”
“Am I?” She sighed and leaned against the counter. “It’s just that this is so beautiful.” She ran her fingertips along the top of the counter, which was quartz, just like Micah wanted it to be.
“It’s a house.”
“Micah, come on.”
He kept his face turned away from her as he got down plates and pulled out forks from the drawer. “This is why I haven’t had anyone over.”
“Because you don’t want to be complimented on your superior craftsmanship?”
“It’s just a house,” he said again.
“This is a custom house,” she argued. “And it’s fantastic, and why can’t you just accept my praise?”
Micah finally looked up, meeting her eye. “I don’t know.”
“You’re going to show it to people when they want to hire you, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then I should get to see it.” She frowned at him, and Micah looked away again. He wasn’t sure why he’d resisted having Simone over, only that he had.
“Okay,” he finally said. “Sorry. You’re right.” He lifted his head and handed her the knife. “Thank you for the compliments. I’m glad you like the house.” He loved the house. Loved it with everything inside him.
He had worked hard on it, and he’d put his whole soul into it.
Simone cut two pieces out of the cake and put one on each plate before picking one up and handing it to him. “I wanted to ask you something,” she said.
“Shoot.” He dipped his fork in the creamy chocolate mousse, his mouth already watering.
“It’s a life question.”
“All right.” Micah put the cake in his mouth, the groan that came out involuntary as his eyes closed in bliss. This woman could cook.
“It’s about marriage and family,” Simone said.
Micah’s eyes popped back open. “Marriage and family?”
“Yeah.” She held his gaze, her cake still pristine. “Do you want those things, Micah?”
He swallowed, the rich chocolate taste still in his mouth. “Yeah, sure,” he said.
Simone nodded, but she didn’t seem satisfied.
“Why are you asking?” he asked. “I thought you knew I didn’t want to be the only brother who was alone.”
“I guess,” she said. “It’s just—don’t you feel like we’re moving sort of slow?”
“Are we?”
“You took four months to kiss me,” she said, lifting her gaze to his again.
“That was because I wasn’t sure what we were doing,” he said.
“I’ll be forty at the end of the year.”
“Okay,” he said, not getting it.
“Women can’t have babies forever, Micah.”
He just blinked at her, unsure of what to say. He wasn’t going to drop to both knees and propose right then. He’d definitely been falling in love with Simone Foster, but he wasn’t sure he was all the way there yet. Was she?
“What are you saying?” he asked. Maybe if she said she loved him, Micah would know exactly how he felt.
“I’m just saying that if you want a marriage and a family, and you maybe, I don’t know, want them with me, we don’t have forever.”
His throat was too dry to respond, so he filled his mouth with the smooth, cool mousse cake. Simone smiled at him in that gentle way she had and took her cake over to the table. “Micah, this is exquisite.” She sat down. “You should put your cards in my booth for the Spring Fling. Maybe you’d get some orders.”
He joined her, so many things still storming in his soul. “I don’t want to just make tables,” he said. “I want to build houses.”
“I know,” she said. “But still. People would see your work, and maybe you’d get someone looking to build.”
He nodded. “All right. I’ll give you some cards.” They ate their cake in silence, and Micah asked her to stay for a movie. She did, and they cuddled on the couch in his living room. Micah thought he could get used to these kind of Sabbath activities, and he sighed as he closed his eyes. Simone had fallen asleep several minutes ago, and Micah took the opportunity to really examine his feelings.
And yes, he was very nearly in love with Simone. Was it possible that she loved him too? Or did she just feel her biological clock ticking, and he was the closest cowboy to her?
He felt bad even thinking that, but he couldn’t help remembering how she’d kept their relationship behind closed doors for months. Months and months.
He’d just have to play things by ear and see what their next step was.
Several days later, Micah was once again interrupted by a knock on the door. This time, though, Jeremiah called, “Mike?” as he walked in.
“I’m in the kitchen,” he called, and a moment later, his brother came around the corner with a large envelope in his hand.
Micah put the frozen pizza he’d just pulled out of the oven on the counter. “What’s that?”
“Mail for you.” Jeremiah tossed the envelope on the counter. “You want to explain that?”
Micah put the oven mitts down and picked up the envelope. “Who’s it from?”
“Hutchinson County,” Jeremiah said, folding his arms. “The recorder’s office.”
Micah flipped over the envelope. “I don’t get it, Jeremiah. Why are you being so weird?” He looked at his brother, wishing he’d just say what was on his mind. He’d never held back before.
“Whitney and I got an envelope like that when we got married.”
“What?” Micah laughed, pulling a couple of sheets of paper out of the envelope. “I’m not married.” He looked at the papers, and one of them sure was fancy. It wasn’t white, but more of a buttercream, with fancy lettering on it.
“I think you are,” Jeremiah said, tapping the certificate. “And this piece of paper says so.”
Micah stared at it, completely confused. “But I didn’t get married.”
Jeremiah joined him and they both stared down at the paper. “You married Simone?”
“No,” Micah said. “No.” He looked up. “Jeremiah, I didn’t.”
“Pastor Scott Daniels,” he read. “He signed it. Why would he do that? When did this happen?”
Micah searched his brother’s face, desperate for the same answers. His mind raced, only matched by his pulse.
And like the sky opening and the heavens falling to earth, Micah realized what had happened. “I mean, we auditioned for this play a few weeks ago….” He snatched up the paper, which had the same date on it as the audition. “But that wasn’t real. That was an audition.” He started for the garage door. He needed to get to Pastor Daniels now.
“Wait,” Jeremiah said behind him. “Audition? What audition?”
Micah didn’t stay to answer him. He needed to know if this was real or not, and how his marriage to Simone had come to be.
He wasn’t sure how fast he drove, or if he came to complete stops at the appropriate signs. What he knew was he’d gone to the pastor’s hou
se, only to have his wife say he was at the church. So Micah pulled up to the white brick building, his heart sprinting like it was trying to flee from his body.
He half-expected the doors to be locked, but they weren’t. He went inside and started down the hall toward the pastor’s office, catching him just as he came out. “Oh, Micah.” Pastor Daniels smiled widely at him. “What can I do for you?”
Micah had no idea what to say. He thrust the paper—the marriage certificate with his name and Simone’s name on it—toward the preacher.
He looked at Micah and then the paper before taking it. His eyes moved side to side, the brightness in them electric. Then his whole countenance fell. “Oh, dear.”
“What is that?” Micah asked. “Is it real? What happened?” He did have some questions.
Scott looked at him. “Micah, I’m so sorry. I had a bunch of papers I needed to send in, and I suppose one of them was that marriage license paper you filled out during the audition.” He tried to hand the certificate back, but Micah didn’t want to take it.
Or maybe he did.
The seedling of an idea started in the back of his mind, and it whispered, All the other brothers have had a fake marriage. Maybe you could too….
He took the paper back and looked at it again. “It’s real.” The ideas and thoughts morphed now that he’d calmed down a little bit, taking on a life of their own.
“I’m sure I can do something,” Scott said. “I mean, on Monday. I can make a phone call on Monday.”
“It’s fine,” Micah said. “I can make a phone call too.” He turned and started down the hall, his mind whirring. He glanced up and saw the doors to the chapel, another thought taking over. “Can I stay here for a few minutes?” he asked, glancing behind him. “Just to think and pray?”
“Sure,” Scott said. “I was just headed out. I’ll lock up, and if you’ll just make sure the door latches completely behind you, you can stay as long as you want.” He smiled at Micah, a bit of trepidation still in his expression. “Please, let me know if you need help getting that taken care of.”