Three Brides, No Groom

by Debbie Macomber

  She glanced up once to discover that Brent had eased down the road and parked much closer to the house than was advisable. Not good. Now he would be watching her every move. No doubt he’d already figured out that she’d run into a hitch.

  Okay, so maybe John had done away with his fake rock. There were other ways to get into the house. As she started toward the back, she noted that the lawn needed to be mowed. Perhaps he was out of town, which was all the better. Stopping abruptly, she reconsidered. Before she changed plans, she’d better tell Brent what she was doing; otherwise he might follow her. Bringing along a silent partner was turning out to be a hassle. Muttering under her breath, she trotted back to the car. When she approached the driver’s side, he rolled down the window.

  “Thank heaven,” he breathed.

  “Thank heaven for what?”

  “You’re giving up, aren’t you?”

  The man obviously didn’t know her very well. The phrase “give up” wasn’t in her vocabulary. Good grief, how did he think she’d solved that silly math problem? Anyone possessing the qualities of persistence, tenacity and the will to succeed wasn’t going to let a little thing like a missing key distract her from her goal.

  “No way on earth,” she informed him, growing impatient with his attitude.

  “Then why’d you want to talk to me?”

  “To tell you I was going around the back of the house and—”

  “I could see that,” he muttered.

  “—and to tell you to move the car,” she finished.

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re too close to the house. People can see you. Go down a block, maybe two. I’ll find you when I’m finished.”

  “Maddie—”

  “Please, Brent. You promised, remember?” This wasn’t his battle, it was hers, and she didn’t want him up to his armpits in trouble because of her.

  “All right, all right.” She could tell he didn’t like it.

  She smiled and impulsively leaned into the car and kissed him full on the lips. She hadn’t planned that, the action was purely instinctive. Purely natural. A means of thanking him for giving her back a part of herself. A piece of her soul. Her serenity. His immediate response surprised her, delighted her. He took control of the exchange and threaded his fingers into her hair, holding her a willing captive.

  Bent over as she was, with her head inside the car, the kiss was awkward. But even that didn’t distract from the pleasure of it. She was the one who broke it off. For a long moment she kept her eyes closed and remained silent. His fingers were still in her hair, and he propped his forehead against hers.

  “I…I won’t be long,” she promised when she found her voice.

  “Be careful.”

  “There’s nothing to worry about. Knowing John, he won’t be home for hours. All I want is to see if he was stupid enough to leave my test paper lying around. I’m not interested in anything else.”

  “Get in and out as fast as you can.”

  “OK, partner.”

  He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. “Hurry.”

  Her senses reeling thanks to Brent and the kiss they’d shared, she practically staggered back to the house and went around behind. And then she saw it. The fake rock was sitting on the top step of the back porch. She nearly laughed out loud. Set off by itself, without the camouflage of the other rocks, it looked exactly like what it was. John couldn’t have made it any more apparent if he’d tried.

  She picked it up and removed the key. The door lock clicked open, and she went inside without a problem. Unwilling to risk any chance of someone walking in on her, she locked the door behind her. She tiptoed two or three steps, then paused and strained to hear any out-of-the-ordinary sounds. Anything that would indicate she wasn’t alone.

  She heard nothing.

  The tension eased from her limbs, and she made herself at home the way she had so many times before. The anxiety of the moment had made her parched; she opened the refrigerator and removed a can of soda. The six-pack she’d bought months earlier was still there. John wasn’t much of a soda drinker, so she’d supplied her own.

  She took a swallow, then, clutching the soda can, moved into John’s office, or what he referred to as his office. Actually it was the formal dining room, but he’d set up his desk and bookcases there.

  For someone who routinely worked with numbers and the sense of order that implied, John was incredibly disorganized. She’d tidied his desk a number of times and devised a simple filing system for him. But in the months since she’d been away, it didn’t look as if he’d bothered to file a single paper. Clutter obliterated the top of the desk. Unopened mail was stacked in one corner, and it looked as if he’d made only a halfhearted effort to sort through it. Halfhearted and several weeks ago.

  She eased herself into his leather chair and leaned back as she had so often. She’d loved his office, loved sitting in it and reading. Loved the smell of leather and old books. She felt a pang of regret, but it was brief. Any genuine regrets she harbored had more to do with her own foolish behavior than missing John, or the man she’d believed him to be.

  She opened the bottom desk drawer and leafed through the files she’d taken such time and care to organize until she found one labeled TESTS. Her fingers froze, not because of the subject matter, but because the label was one John had made himself. He wouldn’t keep her test there, she reasoned; that would be much too obvious. Too stupid. But then again, maybe it was exactly what he would do.

  She reached for the file and held it in her lap, prepared to sort through it, and she would have if she hadn’t been distracted by a loud noise coming from the direction of the bathroom.

  Was John home after all? Had he slipped and fallen in the shower? Her mind and heart raced at the speed of light. Should she investigate, or get out of the house and leave him to his fate? Should she—

  “Maddie!” She recognized Brent’s voice. “Theda’s coming.”

  Her heart, which was already beating at double time, nearly exploded out of her chest. John must be about to walk through the door at any second, otherwise Brent wouldn’t have risked everything to warn her.

  She dropped the file on the desk and nearly fell off the chair in her rush to escape. She took three steps in the direction of the back door and then abruptly changed course, afraid John would come in that way. Her heart was jammed in her throat, and she was halfway to the front door when she heard movement on the front porch.

  Oh, no. John was going to walk in and catch her red-handed.

  “In here,” Brent whispered urgently. He appeared out of nowhere, grabbed her hand and jerked her toward the narrow hallway that led to the bathroom and two bedrooms.

  “Wait,” she whispered, spying the file on the desktop. She refused to leave that behind, not when she’d come this far.

  “There isn’t time,” he warned. “He’ll be inside any second.”

  “I won’t leave it.” She raced across the living room toward the office and realized Brent was right—there wasn’t time. She turned back and made it into the hallway and out of sight just as the front door burst open.

  Brent pulled her into the bathroom and stepped with her into the tub behind the shower curtain. She prayed that the thick floral print would conceal them. She’d noted that the window was open and realized that this was how Brent had gotten into the house in time to warn her. He’d risked everything for her. The chance he was taking left her trembling.

  She heard John speak, and then a second voice followed. So he wasn’t alone. That didn’t surprise her. Neither did the fact that the other voice was a woman’s. The words were too low for her to understand, but she didn’t need to. The woman’s sultry tone told her everything. It was the tone that belonged to a woman who knows what she wants and is convinced she’s about to get it.

  While Maddie wasn’t especially shocked, she did experience a stab of pain. She bowed her head and covered her mouth with her hand. She’d been so foolish, so
incredibly foolish, to believe John had ever loved her.

  Hardly breathing for fear of being discovered, she instinctively leaned toward Brent. He stood behind her and braced his hands on her shoulders, urging her closer, lending her his strength.

  She felt him stiffen, and a heartbeat later realized why. John and his friend were in the hallway outside the bathroom. She couldn’t see what was happening, but judging from the sounds, it was clear the two were heavily involved with each other. Kissing, groaning, whispering, panting. The sound of their sexual eagerness rang as loud as church bells. It was abundantly clear where they were headed, and it wasn’t the bathroom. Too bad, because she would have loved shoving aside the shower curtain and giving them both the shock of their lives. But common sense and the fact that Brent was with her kept her still.

  The sounds of their foreplay continued.

  Maddie’s stomach churned. Unable to stop herself, she turned around and buried her face against Brent’s chest. His arms closed protectively around her, and he placed his chin on top of her head. How gentle he was, how caring.

  The sounds moved into the bedroom, and she flinched when she heard the mattress springs squeak.

  Brent pulled the shower curtain aside and motioned toward the window, gesturing for her to go first.

  She shook her head vehemently. She wasn’t leaving without that file, and she let him know that with hand gestures and pleading looks.

  His eyes widened and he shook his head furiously as they continued their silent but impassioned argument.

  She realized she needed to change tactics. Forcing herself to relax, she smiled sweetly and attempted to assure him, charade-style, that he didn’t have anything to worry about. John and his friend were so wrapped up in each other, they would never hear a thing.

  Brent rolled his eyes to the ceiling in a display of frustration.

  Her mind made up, and not wanting to waste any more precious moments on this fruitless “discussion,” Maddie carefully climbed out of the tub and moved through the bathroom, her footsteps muffled by the thick bath mat. Brent was right behind her. Although she knew she never could have convinced him, it would have been best if he’d left the same way he’d entered.

  The sounds coming from the bedroom were more distinct now. She peeked down the hallway and was greatly relieved to find the bedroom door half-closed. Holding her breath, she shot into the living room, her steps muffled by the broadloom—not that John was likely to hear, as preoccupied as he was. The intensity of her anger at his treachery was enough to make her want to throw something, knock over furniture. But once again common sense prevailed. There was nothing to be gained by such an action and everything to lose.

  Brent’s hand reached for hers, and he silently led the way into the office. She grabbed the file off the top of the desk and grinned triumphantly.

  They tiptoed to the back door, and when Brent opened it, the hinges squeaked. They both froze, held their breath and waited, though for what she wasn’t sure. Retribution. To be discovered and arrested. Fear kept her immobile until Brent urged her forward. Then he closed the door with great care.

  Once outside, she removed the key from her pocket and locked the door, then carefully replaced it in the fake rock. The sun had long set, and the lack of light was a welcome cover. The moon afforded them enough illumination to find their way out to the street.

  “I’m parked down here,” he said, pointing the way with his free hand. His other continued to grip hers.

  “You never should have come,” she said as they hurried along.

  His face was softened by the moonlight. “If I hadn’t, he would have found you. I couldn’t let that happen.”

  She sobered, deeply moved. She would be forever in his debt for the terrible risk he’d taken on her behalf. What would have happened had she been caught didn’t bear thinking about.

  “I was an idiot, though,” he went on, “to allow you to do this in the first place.”

  “Do you honestly think you could have stopped me?”

  “Yes! If I’d had my wits about me, I could have. Should have. I need to have my head examined.”

  They were nearly at the car, and she said, “I guess all’s well that ends well.”

  “You mean to say Theda actually saved your test?” he asked, glancing at the file she held.

  “I don’t know,” she told him. “I didn’t have time to look.”

  They reached the car. He opened the door and helped her inside. She waited until he’d joined her to open the file. She didn’t have far to look. Her midterm was right on top.

  Her gaze found Brent’s.

  “That’s it?” he asked.

  She nodded. John had saved it.

  “Great!” The excitement in Brent’s voice said everything they’d gone through was worth it.

  As they drove away, she continued to stare at the test paper. It seemed unreal. She’d actually done it. And now, here was the proof of John’s treachery and fraud.

  Suddenly she cried, “Stop!” and grabbed his arm.

  He slammed on the breaks and stared at her.

  She cast him a panic-stricken look. “We have to go back.”

  Chapter 4

  “Go back?” Brent stared at Maddie as if she’d just escaped a mental institution. “Back where?”

  “To John’s house.” The man was being purposely obtuse. “I left my soda behind.”

  “Your soda?” Each word was said slowly and distinctly.

  “Yes.” Clearly he didn’t understand the significance of what she was saying, and if he would stop asking her silly questions, she would explain.

  “Where in the name of heaven did you get a soda?”

  “Where else?” she cried, growing more frustrated by the moment. “Out of John’s fridge!”

  “You were thirsty and so you helped yourself?” His mouth fell open in disbelief.

  “Yes, but—”

  “I’ll buy you another,” he offered carefully, as though speaking to an unreasonable child.

  “You don’t understand!” she all but shouted.

  “I’ll admit there appears to be a missing piece of information.”

  “Of course there is. Did you honestly believe I’d risk everything because I was thirsty?”

  “To be honest, the thought had entered my mind.”

  “John doesn’t drink soda. He prefers bottled water or white wine. He considers soda unhealthy. I can’t tell you the number of times he lectured me about its evils.”

  “And?” Brent prompted.

  “And…well, I really didn’t care what he said. The decision was mine, and I like soda. So I bought my own and kept a supply at his house. This evening, after I got inside, I realized I was thirsty. I looked in the fridge, and sure enough, there was my six-pack.”

  “If he hates the stuff so much, why didn’t he throw it out?”

  “Because he’s basically lazy.”

  “Okay, okay, continue,” he said, urging her to explain further.

  “I took the can to John’s desk, and in my panic, I left it behind. The minute he sees it there, he’ll know something’s not right. He’ll guess it was me, and he’ll know why I’d been there. My fingerprints are all over that can.”

  Brent groaned.

  “We have to go back,” she insisted, furious with herself for being so careless. “I can’t believe I did something so stupid.”

  “You honestly think he’ll notice?”

  “Yes. But probably not until morning.” Not while he was wrapped up in his current preoccupation, which from the sound of things, would keep him engaged well into the night.

  “Maddie, I know what you’re saying, but we can’t risk returning. Not now.”

  Part of her realized he was right, but another part was chomping at the bit to remove the one piece of evidence that would clue John in that she had been in his house. “Maybe he won’t contact the police,” she suggested hopefully. All she’d removed from the house was something th
at belonged to her. But he would. Deep down, she knew it. This wasn’t something he would be willing to overlook. Not when she held the one piece of evidence that would show him for the fraud he was.

  They drove out of the neighborhood in silence. All at once she was exhausted, both mentally and physically.

  “You okay?” he asked when he stopped at a red light.

  She smiled weakly. “A little tired.” Thoughts of the soda can drifted away. There was nothing she could do about that now.

  “Close your eyes and put your head on my shoulder,” he said.

  She did as he advised and was comforted by his solid strength. “When I was a little girl, my dad used to sing to me when he carried me up to bed.”

  “What song?”

  “Just an old lullabye. My dad loved to sing. I do, too, sometimes.” She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to chatter. Rarely did she mention her father. After his death, she’d learned not to, because it upset her mother. Later, it seemed more important to hold the memories close to her own heart, as though exposing them would water them down, weaken them in her own mind. She’d been secretly engaged to John for almost two months, and except to say that her father was dead, she had never mentioned him. Never told John how she grieved for her father to this very day.

  She didn’t want to examine her reasons for sharing this favorite of all memories with Brent. If she stopped to think about it, she was sure to find some profound significance, but she was too tired. Too tired and perhaps a little afraid.

  Brent started to hum, the sound low and melodic. Tears formed in the corner of her eyes at his kindness.

  Rather than let him see her tears, she closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep. Pretended she was once more protected by someone she loved and who loved her. The fantasy worked far too well, because the next thing she knew they were parked outside her apartment building and Brent was whispering her name.

  “Maddie.” His voice seemed to come from a great distance. “You’re home. Don’t you want to go inside?”