“Meg just agreed to let me attend the dress rehearsal,” Martin said. “I love watching the girls dance.”
Rachel smiled. “Great idea. We’ll look forward to seeing you.”
Martin slipped his arm around Liza’s waist. “Are you thirsty, honey? Can I get you and Rachel some apple cider?”
“That would be nice.” She smiled, pretending Martin’s arm around her didn’t feel like heaven.
But it did.
As he headed for the refreshment table, the tickling in Liza’s nose built to monumental proportions, and she sneezed. Not once but three times. Fortunately, Martin wasn’t here to witness her allergic meltdown.
“Gesundheit,” Rachel said. “Are you catching a cold?”
Liza leaned to whisper in her ear. “I have hay fever -- big time.”
“No kidding? This should be an interesting evening.”
Liza turned to Rachel as desperation gripped her. “I don’t think I can do this,” she said quietly. “I’m in way over my head.”
“Now calm down, sweetie. You look super stressed. Shall we go outside and talk?”
Liza bit her lip and nodded. She wanted to go outside and stay outside. Or go outside and run way. But a breather might boost her flagging courage. And help her survive the agony ahead.
“I’m here with Ron, but he’s talking to Cliff at the moment. Come on, let’s go.”
Rachel took Liza’s hand and pulled her through the crowd. Once they got outside, they walked a distance away, and Rachel turned to face her. “Now tell me what’s bothering you.”
“Other than pretending to be my sister?” Liza shrieked. “Other than turning both Meg’s and my own life upside-down, to say nothing of Martin’s?”
Rachel patted her hand. “Yes, other than that.”
“To be honest, I’m a poor excuse for a dancer. Martin will expect me to dance like Meg, and that isn’t going to happen.”
Rachel pursed her lips. “I don’t think Meg ever came to a barn dance with Martin. When we held last year’s dance, she was visiting you in Kansas City. And she didn’t make it the year before, either. Since Martin won’t have anything to compare your dancing to, you’re safe.”
“Safe? I’m light years away from safe.”
“On the dancing issue, I mean.”
“Hmm. So you really think my mediocre dancing might get me through the evening?”
“Of course. Smile at Martin a lot, charm him with your sparkling conversation, and maybe he won’t notice it when you step on his foot.”
She sighed. “I suppose I can try.”
“Listen, I hate to drop another bomb, Liza, but there’s a bigger issue we need to discuss. Bigger than how well you can dance.”
She groaned. “Don’t say that. I can’t handle any more big issues.”
“But it’s important you hear this. And it may not be a news flash, anyway. You’ve probably figured it out yourself.”
“Rachel, you’re scaring me. If things get any more complicated, I’ll hop in Meg’s VW and head for Kansas City.”
Of course, she wouldn’t. Meg’s car would never survive the trip.
“That’s not an option, and we both know it. As you’ve said, Meg needs this time to reconnect with Zach. And you need to know about this, um, other situation. It changes everything.”
Liza took a steadying breath and expelled it slowly. “Okay, tell me. But tell me fast.”
“I’ve noticed something the last few days. Every time Martin is anywhere near you he looks...um...starry eyed. I know he’s fond of Meg, but he doesn’t look at her the way he looks at you.”
“Don’t even say that.”
“It’s true. The man is smitten. Positively smitten.”
Liza gazed off into the distance. While her heart pounded at the possibility, she couldn’t deal with any more traumas. She was teetering on the edge of insanity as it was.
“Liza? Are you okay?”
“Huh?” Rachel’s voice pulled Liza from her muddled thoughts. She shrugged, not knowing what to say.
“I know this isn’t good news, but Martin is falling in love with you.”
“You mean he’s falling in love with Meg.”
“I don’t mean that at all. We both know Meg doesn’t love Martin. But what I didn’t realize until you came to town is that Martin doesn’t love Meg, either.”
Liza struggled to wrap her brain around these new possibilities. “To be honest, I haven’t thought much about Martin’s feelings. I assumed he was deeply in love with Meg.”
When Rachel shook her head, her bob of dark hair slid from side to side. “Then you assumed wrong.”
Liza buried her face in her hands in an effort to block out the latest upheaval. Was Martin falling in love with her? She was dangerously close to falling in love with him if she wasn’t there already. So now what?
Rachel reached for Liza’s hands and squeezed them. “Don’t panic, sweetie. We’ll take this one step at a time. Go flirt with Martin, and he won’t realize you’re not the world’s greatest dancer. And I’ll figure out a way to deal with the upcoming dress rehearsal. Now let’s go back inside before our men send out a search party.”
Liza didn’t move or speak. On some occasions, she’d felt overwhelmed in the courtroom—especially when an opposing attorney presented unexpected evidence. Yet, she’d always managed to deal with the unexpected.
But all her courtroom experience couldn’t help resolve the mess she was in -- a mess of her own creation.
Rachel eyed her with concern. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Okay? How can I possibly be okay?”
Her dark eyes narrowed. “Just remember who you are, Liza O’Malley. You’re a skilled attorney who deals with high stress and tough situations every day. And you’re more than competent to handle the problems with Martin. Got it?”
She sounded so convincing Liza almost believed her. “Got it.”
“Just take the challenges as they come. Now go and dance your little heart out.”
Liza took a stabilizing breath and nodded. At least Rachel had put the dilemma into more manageable terms. Maybe she could fake the dancing and get through another night of pretending. “Thank you,” she said. “I couldn’t do this without you.”
Rachel gave her a little squeeze. “Our goal is to help Meg, remember? All of this is about saving Meg from making a big mistake.”
“You’re right. I’ll try and remember that.”
But as she and Rachel walked back to the barn, Liza’s brain swirled with confusion. Was Martin really falling in love with her -- with her and not Meg? While Liza should feel devastated, she didn’t. She felt thrilled, hopeful, and excited.
But she’d felt that way when she’d started dating Travis. She’d been so smitten by the man she could hardly think straight. Yet, she hadn’t learned much from that tragic experience. Travis didn’t really love her, and neither did Martin.
Like Alice in Wonderland, Liza had stepped from real life into a pretend world. While she hadn’t fallen down the rabbit hole, she could pinpoint the moment everything changed. It was when Martin pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
Liza couldn’t deny it any longer. She was falling hopelessly in love with him.
CHAPTER 8
“Hey there, Mr. Mayor.”
Martin had almost reached the refreshment table when Phil Mason, the town manager, called to him. Martin figured he might as well get used to the title.
“How’s it going?” Phil asked.
“I’m doing well. And you?”
“Great, thanks. Look I know it’s not kosher to discuss business at a party, but I have a quick question about that acreage the town is thinking about buying. Can we talk a minute?”
“Sure,” Martin said, although he’d rather not. He wanted to devote this evening solely to Meg. She’d worked so hard to help him, and it was time for fun and relaxation.
Phil’s quick question turned into a fifteen-minute convers
ation. Martin was glad when he could escape and head for the refreshment table.
Lydia Auburn was dipping cider from a punch bowl and filling rows of glass cups. “It’s great to see you, Martin,” she said.
“You, too, Lydia. How are the kids?”
She rolled her eyes. “They’re growing like weeds. One minute they’re babies then you blink twice and they’re teenagers. You and Meg will find that out once you start your family.”
“Whoa there, Lydia. Meg and I aren’t even engaged yet.”
Her blue eyes sparkled with hope. “But you’re getting close, right? That’s what you said at the fair. I told Meg I’ll throw a shower, but you’re holding things up. If you’d just slip a diamond on that girl’s finger, our plans could proceed.”
Did Lydia have ESP, or what? At this very moment Meg’s diamond was tucked safely in his pocket. And if all went well, he would propose to her tonight.
“If anything happens, you’ll be the first to know.”
She sighed. “I’m trying to be patient. But weddings are the only time folks around here get to dress up. And to be honest, Martin, I need a new outfit.” She winked at him. “So it’s a win-win situation.”
He shook his head. “Did anyone ever tell you you’re one determined woman?”
“Cliff tells me that at least twice a day. Say, where is Meg, anyway?”
“She’s waiting for me to bring her some cider.”
“Oops. And I’m keeping you.” Lydia handed him two cups. “Better get moving, Mr. Mayor. Go find that girl of yours.”
“See you later, Lydia.”
Martin realized he needed some prodding, and Lydia was the woman for the job. Cliff’s wife loved pretty clothes and looked for any excuse to go shopping. So if he proposed tonight, she’d have a valid excuse.
He spotted Meg and Rachel coming in the barn door. Rachel turned and walked toward Ron. Those two had become quite an item these past few months. At this rate, there’d be a wedding epidemic in Meadow Springs, Illinois.
That would certainly make Lydia Auburn happy.
He took the cider to Meg and handed her a cup. “I brought some for Rachel, too.”
“She went to join Ron.”
“Then this one’s mine by default. Did you and Rachel need some fresh air?”
Meg caught his gaze. “Fresh air?”
“I noticed you coming in from outside.”
“Oh, um, yes.” She cleared her throat. “We have plans to make with the recital so close.”
“And a lot of costumes to get ready?”
“That too. Lots of costumes.”
“All right, folks, grab your partners for Honky Tonk Sweetheart.” Frank Jacobson’s voice boomed over the microphone, catching everyone’s attention. Frank, who owned the town’s only hardware store, served as caller for all the dances.
Alf Anderson grabbed his fiddle, and a moment later, the barn filled with lively music. “This is an easy one, folks, so don’t be shy,” Frank encouraged. “Grab your best girl, and let’s get this dance underway.”
Martin turned to Meg. “Shall we give it a try?”
She hesitated a moment then shrugged. “Why not?”
“But you need to cut me some slack,” he said. “I haven’t taken years of dance lessons like some people I know.”
She slanted him a sideways glance. “Is that a disclaimer, Mr. Landsburg?”
He grinned. “Well, sort of.”
“What about our cider? We can’t hold it while we dance.”
“We’ll set our cups on a hay bale. No one will bother them there.”
As they put their cups down, Meg sneezed. Twice. “Excuse me,” she said.
“Are you catching a cold?”
“No. The straw and dust tickle my nose.”
Martin took Meg’s hand and led her onto the dance floor. “You need to remember something, too,” she said quietly. “My ballet training doesn’t transfer to all forms of dancing.”
“Hmm. That sounds like a disclaimer, too. Is it?”
“Well, sort of,” she admitted.
They took their places, and Frank walked them through the steps before putting them to music. Meg looked flushed and especially pretty tonight. Martin pulled her close as he swung her around, and she felt wonderful in his arms.
He was glad now that he’d asked Meg to come. While his dancing was nothing to brag about, he would manage. And it helped that Frank walked them through the steps ahead of time.
They managed to survive Honky Tonk Sweetheart and moved on to Cotton Eyed Joe. While he and Meg made their share of mistakes, so did everyone else. After several more lively dances, he said, “A break sounds good to me.”
“To me, too.”
“Shall we go outside? The Chapman’s keep some benches on the backside of the barn for campfires and wiener roasts. We can sit down and catch our breath.”
He gripped Meg’s elbow, and as they walked around the barn, Martin fingered the ring box in his pocket. The time had come to stop stalling and to ask Meg to be his wife. “I have something I want to show you,” he told her, trying to bolster his courage.
The sun had set a short time ago, leaving tinges of orange clinging to the gray-and-black nighttime sky. And to make the scene even more ideal, the moon was almost full. Mother Nature was providing a perfect setting for his marriage proposal.
They settled on one of the benches. The ring had been burning a hole in Martin’s pocket since he’d purchased it, but now that the moment had come, he felt a tightening in his chest and a lump in his throat. While he and Meg had discussed the possibility of marriage, both of them had been holding back. And what if she said no? Or accepted his ring and backed out later like Melissa had? He couldn’t face that kind of rejection twice in the same lifetime.
The tightening in his chest intensified. A chorus of frogs croaked in the nearby pond, and neither of them spoke for several minutes.
Finally, Meg broke the silence. “I’m having a fun evening. And our dancing’s not half bad.”
He grinned. “Maybe all those disclaimers weren’t necessary.”
He slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. The sweet scent of her perfume made his heart skip, and his pulse pounded in anticipation.
This is it, Landsburg, he told himself. Take the ring out of your pocket and ask Meg to marry you.
He slipped his hand into his pocket and again fingered the box. But he couldn’t make himself take it out.
“What did you want to show me?” Meg asked.
Her question hung in the air between them. Martin swallowed hard then took a deep breath. In his heart, he wanted to propose but something wasn’t right.
“The moon,” he finally replied. “I wanted to show you the moon. It’s almost full tonight and I knew we could see it clearly from here.”
She sighed. “It really is gorgeous. I stay so busy that I don’t notice it very often. And you’re right. This is a lovely spot, and we have a perfect view.”
The battle raging inside Martin continued. Part of him wanted to propose more than anything in the world. But something almost tangible held him back. And while he had the ring and the ideal setting, he couldn’t make himself say the words.
Did Melissa still have a hold on him? he wondered. He’d thought he had finally closed the door on that chapter of his life, but had he? Or was he still expecting rejection?
Meg turned to him and smiled. “Thanks for showing me the moon, Martin. I’ll always remember tonight.”
She looked so lovely in the moonlight. And the reservation he sometimes sensed in her was missing. He leaned forward and brushed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “It was my pleasure, Miss O’Malley. Shall we go inside and dance some more?”
She nodded. “That would be nice.”
You’re a first-rate fool, Landsburg, Martin told himself later as he drove Meg home. He could have kicked himself up and down Main Street for hedging when he should have moved forward.
&
nbsp; They’d spent a fun evening together. Meg had laughed a lot, their dancing improved as the night progressed, and they’d chatted with lots of friends. But procrastinator that he was, he’d missed the perfect opportunity.
There’s always Plan B, his conscience prodded as he walked Meg up to the cottage. He could invite her to dinner at the Carriage House and propose by the waterfall. And she might like that setting even better.
After they’d climbed the porch steps, she turned to him. “This was a wonderful evening.”
“Good. And Sunday will be even better.”
“Really? What happens on Sunday?”
“Dinner at the Carriage House, if I have my way.”
She glanced down and didn’t answer him. Several moments later, he tucked his finger under her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. “You do want to have dinner with me on Sunday, right?”
“Of course, I do. It’s just….”
“Just what?”
She sighed. “Nothing, really. I’ve got a lot on my mind, that’s all.”
“Like the dance recital?”
She nodded. “There’s so much to coordinate.”
“But you have to eat, and the Carriage House is your favorite restaurant. Why don’t I pick you up at seven? And we’ll cut the evening short if you like.”
Her smile seemed tight but she finally nodded. “That should work. Seven it is.”
He leaned in to kiss Meg—really kiss her, this time. That’s what he should have done on the bench at Chapman’s farm. If he’d kissed her properly then, maybe he would have found the courage to actually propose.
As his lips claimed hers, the internal fireworks he’d experienced the past several days kicked up a notch. He deepened the kiss and, to his delight, she responded. For several miraculous moments he was lost in the wonder of her—the wonder of her kiss.
When Martin finally pulled away, he suddenly knew without question that Meg O’Malley was the woman for him. The only woman for him. He would stop this ridiculous stalling and get the diamond on her finger. Even Lydia Auburn had that figured out.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he said as he turned to go.
“Goodnight,” she murmured.
As he walked to his SUV, Martin realized his life as an uncommitted man was nearly over. On Sunday he would ask Meg to become his wife. And if luck was with him, he and his new bride would live happily ever after.
Bride by Chance Page 11