by Raina Lynn
“I know it’s late, Faith, but may I come in?” Maggie looked past her startled sister-in-law, hoping to see suitcases in the foyer, anything to indicate Garrett might be having second thoughts, but she saw nothing. Knowing Garrett, his belongings were already neatly put away in his new home.
Faith squealed and pulled her into a quick hug. “You’re here! From the shape he and Rick were in, I didn’t expect to see you.” She pushed Maggie through the living room. “They’re all out back.”
Maggie nodded, stuffing her hands self-consciously into her pockets. The idea of begging Garrett’s forgiveness in front of an audience didn’t sit well, but pride made a lonely bedmate.
Patio lights blazed as she stepped outside. A basketball hoop was bolted to the pool house, and Garrett bounced a basketball with deadly intent. Blake was in another wheelchair, one undoubtedly purloined from his office. Rick and the girls were sprawled in a patio lounger, cheering them on.
“Get it together, Dad, or you’ll be scrubbing his tires with a toothbrush tomorrow.”
“Thanks,” Garrett groused. “Just what I need. More pressure.”
Maggie had been wrong about this, too. No matter Garrett’s future, the two brothers would still have their hard-fought basketball games, a ridiculous bet riding on the outcome.
With a quick flick of his wrist, Garrett flipped the ball over and shot. It bounced off the backboard, then he and Blake scrambled after it, wheelchairs colliding. Garrett got to the ball first.
“Unfair advantage!” Blake whined. “You’ve had more practice with these things than I have.”
Garrett snorted. “Right. That’s why you’re eight points ahead.” The words were jovial enough, but she didn’t miss the somber tone.
None of them had seen her. Maggie stepped into the light as Garrett prepared to shoot again. His head snapped around. Unguarded heartache and love racked his features. He lost control of the ball, and it bounced away. Blake started for it, but stopped when he saw her. Rick turned and stood, and Maggie felt as if she faced the ultimate firing squad. She wished they’d just execute her and be done with it.
Her attention locked onto Garrett. Closer, he looked even worse. What she’d mistaken for concentration on the game was in actuality a deliberate attempt to survive one moment at a time. She swallowed hard, acknowledging with a grateful nod Blake’s suggestion to the kids that he and they go in the house.
Rick said nothing to her as he walked past, but the condemnation in his set jaw spoke volumes.
Once she and Garrett were alone, her mouth went dry. The carefully rehearsed speech that she’d memorized on the drive over vanished.
“Didn’t you find my note?” he asked. “I told you I’d let you know what Rick’s plans were for the night.”
“That’s not why I’m here.”
He didn’t say a word, merely waited, the seasoned cop giving a suspect enough rope to hang himself.
“I love you, Garrett,” she said past the strangling knot her throat had become.
“So?” He turned away to retrieve the basketball.
She flinched, but she doubted he saw it. He tried to dribble the ball but couldn’t maintain control, and it bounced away again. A tiny spark of hope flared. He’d demonstrated much more skill before he’d noticed her. Maybe he wasn’t as hardened to her as he appeared.
She lifted her chin. “You’ve never lied to me, Garrett. I’m sorry I let fear blind me to that. You have no reason to trust me, but I want to try to—”
“Stop it!” His voice cracked. “You tried. I tried. I’m tired of trying. You either love me—wheelchair, uniform and all—or you don’t.”
“I do.” It came out whisper soft but cased in iron.
He stared. “You what?”
She stepped toward him, burying her hands deeper into her pockets. It was the only way she had to keep from throwing herself at him. How could she have brought this magnificent man to his knees? Could she ever forgive herself for that? “I love who you are, Garrett, not who I want you to be.”
His eyes narrowed, and she held her breath as he wheeled himself to her. Up close, she could see the ravages grief had made of his face.
“Your fear is real, Maggie. I told you how I know that. You can’t turn it on and off at will. So what’s the point of all this?”
“I need your help.”
He lifted his brows at the audacious pronouncement.
She plunged on. “I’m ready to deal with it, even if it means parking myself in the staff psychologist’s office seven days a week until it’s conquered.”
A shudder racked his big body, but he forced it down. “What does this have to do with me?”
“I want you home where you can remind me that I’m strong, that you never lie, that I can always trust you.” She took a shallow breath. “That if you say a—” she swallowed hard and nearly gagged “—a death threat isn’t worth worrying about, then it really isn’t.”
He looked thunderstruck.
“Garrett, I’ll fight this battle alone if I have to. If that’s what it takes to prove to you—”
“Oh, babe,” He opened his arms and she flung herself into his embrace so hard it nearly dumped them both onto the ground. He crushed her to him, and she felt the moistness of his tears on her hair. She closed her eyes, unable to bear it. Have we won? Or is this just another emotional hit-and-run?
Determined to face even this head-on, she pulled back. If she could just see his eyes, then she’d know. But she didn’t get the chance. His lips descended on hers, his usual finesse completely gone as he drank deeply, frantically of her. They drew strength from each other, their kisses healing wounds and promising endless tomorrows.
“Do you really want me to come home? If you do, it’s got to be forever. I can’t move out again. It’d kill me.” The shadows of mistrust were still there.
If it takes a lifetime, I’ll erase them, she vowed silently. “Do you want to get married in your uniform or civilian gear?”
He laughed, the tension leaching from his body. They wiped the moisture from each other’s faces.
Then she remembered something. “You tore out the ramps. How are we going to get you into the house?”
He looked thoughtful, then amused. “Watch me. I’ll crawl up those steps if I have to.”
They held each other in silence, soaking up their love, both indulging in an occasional nibble. Much still needed to be worked through, but not now.
Rick came out, Blake holding a supportive grip on the boy’s shoulder. Faith trailed behind, wringing her hands. The kid looked as if he’d been battling his own war, which Maggie acknowledged that he had. “Mom? Dad?”
That was all he got out before Garrett opened an arm to him. He flew across the yard. The latest impact again threatened the stability of the chair. Hugs were fierce and long.
“Is it for real this time?” Rick asked.
Garrett ruffled his hair. “How would you like to give the bride away?”
The war whoop blasted painfully in Maggie’s ear, but she laughed and kissed his cheek.
“Son, would you go get my suitcases?”
He was off like a rocket. Blake and Faith retreated into the house as well, but at a slower pace and chuckling.
Garrett looked at Maggie. “I couldn’t bring myself to unpack.”
She gave him a confused look. “I thought you’d have completely settled in by now. You sure got out of there fast enough.”
He shook his head. “At that point, Rick’s needs were more important than ours. I had to do something to defuse the situation so I could help him.”
“In other words, you conceded the battle but not the war.”
He didn’t answer, didn’t need to. The truth shone in his eyes.
“What about the ramps, and that note?”
“I dismantled the ramps because I was afraid if they were still there, I’d end up on your porch about dawn tomorrow. Sabotaging my only reasonable means of getting into the house was the best way t
o keep me away until I could come up with a workable plan.”
She laughed tremulously. It hadn’t been as bleak as she’d feared. That word again—fear. Garrett would never abandon her, no matter what she did. A bomb that had taken nearly two hundred lives hadn’t kept them apart. Neither would anything else.
He kissed her again. “Are the blue satin sheets clean?”
Her blood fired. “If they’re not, give me an hour.”
“Too long. We’ll do without.”
Epilogue
In the small anteroom at the front of the church, the sense of well-being that had started in Blake’s backyard remained as Maggie prepared to walk down the aisle. Rick smiled at her, the picture of contentment. He looked good in a tux.
“How badly did you and the girls decorate the van?”
He grinned, smug. “Uncle Blake gave us pointers.”
“Oh, swell. Whatever it is had better come off easily. You know how your dad is about his baby.” Maggie had surprised Garrett with the fully equipped van for his birthday the month before.
Rick chortled, but didn’t deny a thing.
Sapperstein knocked, then poked his head in. “Ready, boss?”
A new flock of butterflies took flight in her stomach.
He sauntered in and checked his tux in the mirror. “I love the new wedding etiquette. This matron of honor stuff is fun.”
Shaking her head affectionately, she smiled. “I think the proper term for you is attendant.”
“Matron of honor still sounds better.” His teasing expression sobered a little. “Thanks for asking me.”
“You’re the closest friend I have.” Outside Garrett.
“Remember that at raise time, will you?” The music started, and he slipped out the door.
Maggie smoothed the satin gown. Garrett had been serious when he’d asked her to wear the dress she’d worn when they’d married eighteen years ago today. The alterations hadn’t taken the heroic measures she’d been afraid they might. She felt a little silly wearing white, but this was for Garrett, and somehow that made it okay.
Taking a deep breath, she draped her wrist over the crook of Rick’s arm and stepped into the sanctuary. Family and friends filled the small church. A corner of her mind noted Laverne, Patrick and his nurse in the front pew beside Faith and the girls. With skilled help, Mom looked rested, and Dad was doing much better. Blake and the minister stood at the altar, but her attention and her heart locked onto Garrett.
His presence was commanding, the wheelchair an irrelevant detail. His attempt to get back on the police force had failed, at least temporarily, but she took no joy in it. Patients with concrete goals were the ones who made their own miracles. He was still a long way from walking, if ever, but his courage and determination got him closer to it every day. If anyone could come back all the way, he would. When he did, he’d once again wear a police uniform with pride, making a difference in his corner of the world—but behind the scenes. He’d promised.
Undisguised devotion shone from his face, warming her from across the room.
“I love you,” he mouthed as she walked toward him, the aisle strewn with rose petals.
“I love you, too,” she mouthed back.
The formalities exchanged between Rick and the minister were lost to her as Rick placed her hand in Garrett’s. Of one mind, she and Garrett tightened their hold, the unspoken promise as binding as the vows to come.
“I want to grow old with you, babe,” he whispered to her as they turned to face the minister.
“I think that can be arranged.” Her promise lodged itself forever in his heart.
Garrett suddenly couldn’t help himself and pulled her to him for a kiss totally inappropriate to the traditions of the ceremony. His heart swelled to overflowing. At that moment, he couldn’t have cared less about propriety.
Last week had seen the first anniversary of the bombing of Flight 1251, and his settlement was due in soon. With careful investing, he’d never have to work again, but he couldn’t see himself as ever living a sedentary life-style.
He hadn’t come close to giving up on one day returning to law enforcement. In fact, he’d figured out another proposal to pitch to the powers that be. Even if his dream never became a reality, he was beginning to see life as having new possibilities. He’d even checked into going back to school to get his master’s degree. The future was wide open, and he had every intention of making it count.
“Would you two stop necking long enough to make it legal?” Blake groused. “Some of us are tired of waiting.”
Garrett felt Maggie’s laughter against his lips, and he gave her one more hard kiss before releasing her enough to look into her radiant face. They’d decided to start a second family, complete with a private ceremony tonight that consisted of throwing away the box of “supplies.”
He had his family back, and this time, they’d get it right.
ISBN : 978-1-4592-7244-6
A MARRIAGE TO FIGHT FOR
Copyright © 1997 by Linda C. Johnson
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 300 East 42nd Street, New York, NY 10017 U.S.A.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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Table of Contents
Table of Contents
“Would you prefer me to sleep in the spare room?”
Letter to Reader
RAINA LYNN
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
Copyright