by Cindy Kirk
Hope willed Chet to keep his eyes focused on the screen. She would speak with him soon, but now wasn’t the time.
She paid the college-aged clerk and offered him a sunny smile that was at odds with her stormy insides. Taking the brown bag, Hope dropped money into the tip jar and turned toward the door. She’d almost reached it when she glanced over at Chet’s table and . . . caught his eye.
His smile of obvious pleasure had guilt rushing through her and her feet skidding to a stop. How could she even consider walking out without speaking to the man she’d been casually dating?
What would he think when he discovered she was married? And had slept with John? The situation reminded her of a scene from one of Verna’s favorite TV soaps.
Hope waited for Chet to cross the dining area.
“I’ve been trying to reach you all day.” He smiled appreciatively at the conservative dark suit she’d chosen for her trip to the attorney.
“I’ve been super busy.” She lifted the brown bag. “Then I got hungry.”
“I saw you coming out of Reid Mueller’s office.”
Even if she’d been tempted to evade, there was no point. “Oh, Chet.”
“Is something wrong?” Concern deepened his voice. “Is that why you haven’t returned my calls?”
“What’s going on is complicated.” She forced a smile but felt her lips quiver. “I promise I’ll tell you all about it. Soon. You’re busy now.”
“Actually, Tom and I have concluded our business.” Chet took her arm firmly. “As I don’t like puzzles, I prefer you tell me now.”
When they reached the table, Chet dismissed Tom—who didn’t appear to realize the meeting had ended—then pulled out a chair for her. It was close to 2:00 p.m. and most of the lunch crowd had already headed back to work. Their table was far enough from any of the other occupied ones to afford them some privacy.
Perhaps it was best, Hope concluded, to simply get this out in the open. If Chet had discovered he was married, she’d expect him to tell her immediately.
He took her hand. “Tell me what’s wrong and what I can do to help.”
Hope sat back, the move extricating her hand from his. Like it or not, she was a married woman. As long as she was married, even such simple intimacy with another man wasn’t appropriate.
“I’ll tell you.” She looked him in the eye. “But there’s nothing you can do.”
“You might be surprised. We Tuttle men are expert problem solvers.”
Hope smiled. The supreme confidence underlying his declaration came from decades of Tuttle privilege.
As quickly and concisely as she could manage, she told Chet the story. She began with the impulsive wedding and ended with why she’d consulted with the attorney.
Chet sat back in his chair, his blue eyes simply astonished. “You’re married?”
“Yes.” She stared down at her hands. “At this point, staying married or getting a divorce are our only options.”
“What about an annulment? You were so young and—”
“We were eighteen. No parental consent required.”
“Couldn’t you say you weren’t thinking clearly?”
Hope’s lips twisted in a humorless smile. “That only works if the marriage has never been consummated.”
Chet’s brows pulled together. “You said you realized your mistake right away and had him take you straight home.”
Okay, so perhaps she hadn’t told Chet everything.
Heat rose up her neck. She cleared her throat. “It didn’t happen that night.”
“Ah . . .” Chet let out a long breath.
Hope wanted to tell him she wasn’t a hypocrite. She’d meant what she’d said to him about not sleeping with a man until she was married.
She hadn’t abandoned her morals. She hadn’t given in to her desire for John until she’d known they were married. But that piece of information seemed far too personal to share.
“It’s a certainty we won’t be able to go out again until your divorce is final. Even then I—”
“Ending a marriage is a serious step.” Hope found herself irritated he just assumed she’d quickly jump into a divorce.
Shock skittered across his face. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of staying with him? That would be crazy.”
Hope lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug. “I’d say everything about this situation is crazy. Wouldn’t you?”
After her stressful encounter with Chet, Hope drove home with her thoughts whirling. She and John had lots to discuss.
If she hadn’t been so reckless this morning, ending their marriage would be easy. Still, she couldn’t place the blame on John. From the first time she met him, she’d been mesmerized. She’d never experienced a similar reaction to any other man, including Chet. When she and John had gone their separate ways, Hope had tried to tell herself it was simply a chemistry thing.
Deep down she’d known the attraction went beyond the physical. There was so much that drew her to John—his sense of humor, his intelligence, and his playfulness.
Unfortunately, his irresponsibility and inability to take life seriously made him totally wrong for her. For most of the past ten years he’d lived a hand-to-mouth existence pursuing his dreams of an art career. Her dad had a lot of dreams too. But his disregard for financial matters had made her home life a living hell.
Still, a divorce . . .
Marriage was a sacred institution. Not that she’d shown much respect for that institution thus far. Choosing to be married by a college student, rather than a man of God, had been her first mistake. But certainly not her last.
Yet, what would be the point in continuing a union that would eventually break apart anyway?
With a heavy heart, Hope climbed the steps to the wraparound porch. Instead of going inside, she took a seat on the porch swing, hoping the sunny and unseasonably warm October day would boost her spirits.
She closed her eyes. Dear God, please help me. I’ve made such a mess of everything.
“Want some company?”
Hope’s lids flew open. Though John’s lips curved upward, there was a wariness in his gaze.
Impulsively, she patted a spot beside her on the white lacquered swing. Even if her actions in the past twenty-four hours gave no evidence of maturity, there was no reason they couldn’t handle this situation like adults. “Please. Join me.”
John ambled to the swing, looking more attractive than any man had a right to in jeans and a white T-shirt. When he took a seat beside her and she inhaled the clean, fresh scent of him—soap, shampoo, and that indefinable male scent that was uniquely his—she was tempted to close the few inches that separated them.
But it was that desire for closeness that had gotten her into this situation in the first place.
His gaze met hers. “I was surprised when I came out of the shower to discover you’d left.”
“I needed time to think.” She attempted to banish a sudden image of how he’d look with beads of water dotting his sleek muscles. Her lips twisted in a wry smile. “I thought I’d stand a better chance of thinking clearly with my clothes on.”
His low, rumbling laugh had her smile widening into a reluctant grin.
John’s gaze turned thoughtful. “Did you?”
She tilted her head.
“Do some thinking?” he clarified.
When Hope shifted to face him, her leg bumped his. Warmth flowed from his body into hers. She told herself even if she wanted to move out of reach, there wasn’t room.
A crow cawed overhead and the scent of basil and rosemary teased her nostrils. From where Hope sat, she could see pumpkins in the garden, almost ready to be put on the porch with bound shafts of wheat. It all looked so normal. Yet she felt as if her life would never be normal again.
“I went to see Reid Mueller this morning. He’s an attorney on Market Street. Very well regarded,” she added when she saw his brows draw together. “Specializes in family law.”
J
ohn’s foot pushed off the wooden floorboards and the swing moved back and forth. “What did you and Mr. Mueller discuss?”
Unexpected tears pushed at the backs of Hope’s eyes. She blinked rapidly and took a moment to steady her breath. “Annulment. Divorce.”
John’s face looked as if it had been carved from granite. He reached out, then pulled his hand back as if rethinking the movement. “Those were the only options you discussed?”
This time, she drew her brows together. “What others are there?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he began, his tone holding a hint of sarcasm. “Perhaps—”
“I didn’t realize the two of you were out here.” Aunt Verna stepped out onto the porch, a smile lighting her face.
John started to get up but she motioned him down. “You stay right where you are. I’ll pull over a chair and we can all sit and visit. It’ll be like old times.”
Aunt Verna took a potted plant from the seat of a lightweight wicker chair and moved it close to the swing. She wore a skirt of teal and brown with a distinctive southwestern flavor.
This was the woman Hope had known and loved for as long as she could remember. The friend and comforter who’d always been interested in what she had to say and who’d always had her back.
She saw the question in her aunt’s eyes and knew the time had come to tell her everything. Verna would be disappointed in her behavior, but she was family. And family stuck together.
“Verna, John and I have something to tell you.”
A half smile formed on the older woman’s lips. Interest sparked in those pale blue eyes. “Sounds intriguing.”
“The night of our senior prom, Hope and I got dressed up but we didn’t go to the high school.” John spoke while Hope was still trying to push the confession past her lips. “Instead, we drove to Boise and got married. We were in love and didn’t want to wait.”
Aunt Verna’s eyes widened. Her astonished gaze shifted from John to Hope, then back to John. “Married?”
“We thought it wasn’t legal,” Hope said quickly. “We just found out it was.”
With the words tumbling out, Hope did her best to give her aunt the condensed version of what had occurred. “We planned to rent an apartment in Boise and attend college in the fall. The way we saw it, two could live as cheaply as one.”
“Hope had second thoughts shortly after we’d said our vows,” John interjected when she paused for breath. “Buddy said as long as he didn’t send in the license and marriage certificate to the courthouse, it wouldn’t be legal. We recently discovered that was incorrect information.”
“Oh, my dear ones. What were you thinking? Getting married by a man who was ordained online? Even if you wanted a simple ceremony, you should have at least gotten a proper minister.”
A proper minister?
Hope swallowed a nervous giggle. She’d just confessed that she’d skipped her high-school prom to get married at eighteen, and the only concern her aunt expressed was about the minister? Though Hope had to admit that a proper minister would have known it was legal the moment he’d pronounced them husband and wife.
“All these years we’ve gone on as if the events of that night never happened,” Hope continued, ignoring her aunt’s comment. “Then, on Saturday, I overheard Amity speaking to a woman about a similar issue. Amity insisted that even if the forms weren’t sent in, the marriage would still be legal. I called this morning and discovered she was correct and Buddy was wrong. That’s when I went to speak with an attorney.”
“First, you told me,” John corrected.
Disappointment filled Aunt Verna’s eyes when she turned and looked at him. “You urged her to see an attorney.”
“We both believe it’s good to have all the relevant information,” was all John said.
“I met with Reid Mueller.” Hope didn’t need to say anything further about the man or his reputation. Her aunt had mentioned on more than one occasion that Reid had been in her Sunday school class when he was in third grade. Apparently the prominent attorney had been what her aunt kindly referred to as a “handful.”
“He told me we’d have to get a divorce.”
Verna raised a brow. “Not an annulment?”
Once again, Hope felt heat begin a slow but steady rise up her neck. “No, ah, an annulment isn’t a possibility.”
“The marriage has been consummated.”
Was that satisfaction she heard in the woman’s voice?
“That’s correct,” John said when the silence lengthened.
“Do you want a divorce?” Aunt Verna’s gaze shifted between them, and it wasn’t clear which one of them she’d asked.
Hope straightened. “Of course I don’t want a divorce, but we didn’t really plan to be married, and—”
Verna raised a hand, silencing her. “I seem to be confused about some parts of the story. Let me clarify. At eighteen, when you were both considered legal adults, you and John went to the courthouse and obtained a marriage license. Is that correct?”
Hope flushed, experiencing the full impact of her aunt’s unblinking gaze. The look was the same one she’d given her when Hope had insisted it wasn’t her fault that the horses had gotten out because the latch was defective.
The excuse hadn’t worked then, and Hope had no doubt she was about to go down in flames again.
Hope moistened her suddenly dry lips with the tip of her tongue. “That’s correct.”
“You secured the services of a minister, and I use that term very loosely in this case, and drove to Boise where you said your vows.” Verna’s gaze narrowed on John as if letting him know Hope wasn’t alone on the hot seat. “Is that correct?”
John nodded.
“Tell me, how is that not planning to get married?”
Hope chewed on her lower lip.
“And you consummated the marriage even though you believed it wasn’t legal.”
“No. No,” Hope said quickly. “It was only after we knew we were married that we—”
She stopped, but it was already too late.
“You confirmed this morning the marriage was legal.” Verna nodded her head sagely. “Which means it was just today that you—”
“I believe you’ve got a good grasp of the timeline,” John interrupted, and Hope shot him a grateful look. “This has been a stressful day for Hope. I see no purpose in more questions.”
Verna’s gaze settled on John and something that almost looked like approval lit her eyes. “I see no need to hurry into a decision. You’ve both seen what can happen when you rush. Though I must admit, I always thought you’d be good together.”
“You did?” John’s voice held a note of shock.
Confusion made Hope’s voice soft. “You never told me.”
Aunt Verna waved a dismissive hand. “I encourage you both to speak with Pastor Dan and to give this decision time and a lot of prayer. Divorce doesn’t need to be your first choice. Take time to get to know each other. Give your marriage a chance. You spoke vows. Consummated the union. Shouldn’t you at least see if you can make the marriage work?”
“I don’t think—” Hope began.
“John is right. We’ve talked enough about this issue for today.” Verna gazed thoughtfully at the two of them. Her lips curved. “Besides, I have some exciting news of my own. I have the perfect couple for Pastor Dan to marry at Mistletoe Inn this Christmas.”
“Wow, that didn’t take you long.” John pounced on the change in topic with the enthusiasm of a man about to go under for the third time.
“They’re lucky to have Pastor Dan officiate.” Hope’s expression turned dreamy. “His sermon on love always brings tears to my eyes.”
“This will be a small wedding but a lovely one officiated by a true man of God.” Her gaze lingered on Hope. “Every woman deserves to have that special day.”
“Who’s the couple?” John asked. “Anyone I know?”
Hope knew he didn’t give a fig; he was probably just as glad
as she was that Verna’s attention was now focused on a different couple.
“Names?” Aunt Verna asked, seeming oddly perplexed at the simple question.
“The names of the couple who’ll be married at Mistletoe Inn?” Hope prompted.
“Oh.” Her aunt’s lips lifted in a slight smile. “Luke and Laura,” she said, then repeated the names with more surety. “Luke and Laura.”
“That’s funny.”
Verna lifted a brow.
Hope grinned. “Don’t you remember? That’s the couple from General Hospital, the soap you used to watch every afternoon.”
“What a coincidence.” Verna gave a little trill of a laugh. “They, ah, won’t be around much so I’m going to require both of you to be involved in the preparations.”
Hope narrowed her eyes. “Why won’t they be around?”
“They’re . . . deployed,” Verna announced. “But they’ll be back at Christmas.”
“I should hope so,” John said with a wry chuckle. “If they’re getting married it would probably be a good idea for them to show up.”
Aunt Verna nodded, her smile appearing overly bright. “Exactly so.”
“What kind of help will you need with the preparations?” Hope asked.
“Oh, little things like picking out the wedding dress and the tuxedo. We can go tomorrow if you’re both free.”
“You want us to choose what they’re going to wear to their wedding?” John asked. “Don’t they have family for that?”
“I’m afraid there’s no one except us.” Verna’s gaze shifted between John and Hope. “I’m counting on both of you to help me. I want this to be as special as if we were doing it for ourselves.”
Boise Bride and Groom was a full-service shop on West Emerald Street that catered to both sides of the wedding party. When they reached the front door of the shop, John stopped and held up a hand, his gaze focused on Verna.
This was his last chance to get out of this ridiculous errand. “Since you have Luke’s clothing and shoe size, you don’t really need me. I’ll pick you up when you’re finished. Just call—”