Shotgun Marriage

by Day Leclaire

  “But you didn’t then.”

  “No.”

  Jackie had a lot to pay for, far more than his wife ever would. “I can understand your remaining silent. But why didn’t Ella tell me?”

  “I asked her once. She said it was for your sake—that she didn’t want to harm my relationship with you.”

  He swore beneath his breath, bitterly aware of how he’d misjudged his wife. If she were here now, they’d have a lengthy discussion on the subject. Unfortunately, he’d have to deal with that at a later date. For now he had other, more pressing concerns to address.

  “Why did you do it?” he demanded. “Were you so unhappy with me? Was your life so terrible that you felt you had to marry in order to escape?”

  “No, no. Just the opposite.” Her tears spilled over. “My life was that wonderful. Don’t you see? You came all the way to Florida looking for me. I wanted to find a man just like you, Rafe. Someone who would love me so much he’d go to the ends of the earth in search of me.”

  It was several minutes before he’d regained his control enough to speak. “You are mistaken,” he told her hoarsely. “I am not such a man.”

  “Aren’t you?” Shayne pulled free of his arms and fixed him with huge, dark eyes. “You think there’s no such thing as happily-ever-after. But don’t you get it? That’s exactly what you gave me as a child.”

  “No. I failed you. Jackie—”

  “Everything you’ve ever done has been out of love and the desire to protect me. Even Jackie.”

  “And McIntyre?”

  “I found happily-ever-after with him, too. Briefly. Someday I’ll find it again. And this time, I won’t let anything take it from me.”

  Her admission ate at his soul like acid. “You still love him, don’t you?”

  She didn’t spare his feelings. “With all my heart. Even if I never find love again, at least I had that one night.” She gripped his hand. “I’ll bet Ella feels the same way.”

  “Perhaps once,” he said. “But no longer.”

  “You can’t be certain of that. Don’t lose this opportunity, Rafe. You’ll regret it the rest of your life.”

  “I have no faith,” he whispered, staring at the mosaic with empty eyes. “I don’t believe. And she needs someone who does.”

  “Ella believes enough for the both of you.” Her voice grew urgent. “Listen to me, Rafe. You have a decision to make. A very simple decision. Either you love and trust Ella enough to try and win her back. Or you don’t. Now which is it?”

  His hands folded into fists. “I don’t think I can say the words she needs to hear.”

  “Then show her. Show her by making things right.”

  “You ask the impossible.”

  “Because of the Cinderella Balls? They’re no longer an issue, now are they? Or is it that you suspect her motives for coming here? That’s it, isn’t it? You think she came for her parents’ sake instead of for yours.” She made an impatient sound. “Honestly, Rafe, I could slap you for being such a fool.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Do you really think Ella’s feelings for her parents are any less than your feelings for me?”

  He shook his head decisively. “No. They mean everything to her.”

  “And yet she put their future in danger by trying to gain your love instead of giving you an agreement to end the Cinderella Balls. Would you have been willing to risk as much if your positions had been reversed?”

  It came to him then, with all the raw power of a lightning strike. Shayne was right. There could only be one reason Ella would put her parents in such financial jeopardy. And she’d been shouting it loud and clear from the moment he’d first walked back into her life. He just hadn’t been listening.

  His mouth twisted. “It would seem Donald Montague will have the last laugh, after all.”

  “About what?”

  “He said it would be interesting to see which won out in our marriage—the head or the heart.”

  Shayne laughed in genuine amusement. “And you, of course, said the head.”

  Rafe gave a self-derisive smile. “Only because I was so certain I had no heart.”

  “Which just goes to prove...” She shot him an impish grin. “You aren’t so perfect after all. I’m sure Ella will be vastly relieved to hear you admit it.”

  Ella stood in the middle of the glade behind her parents’ house. She’d spent more time here in the week since she’d left Costa Rica than ever before.

  She bowed her head and studied her ring finger. Where once there’d been a wedding band, now only a pale mark remained to underscore painful memories. It hurt to her very soul to discover she’d been wrong about Rafe and the Cinderella Ball. She’d wanted so much to believe in magic and miracles and fairy tales. But the time had come to face a bitter truth... She wasn’t Cinderella any more than she was La Estrella. To pretend otherwise only led to heartbreak, as she’d so recently discovered.

  “I thought I might find you here.”

  She lifted her head at the familiar-sounding voice, afraid to look, afraid to discover her imagination had played a nasty trick.

  “Aren’t you even going to say hello?” Rafe asked, amusement rippling through his deep voice.

  Steeling herself to face him, she turned. “Why have you come? Or is that a foolish question?”

  “A very foolish question, amada.”

  Her mouth tightened. “Don’t call me that. Not anymore.” :

  “What would you rather I called you?” He raised an eyebrow and approached. “Dulzura? Mi alma? Mi corazón?”

  “Stop it, Rafe. You don’t mean any of those endearments, so just stop.”

  “Or perhaps it would be more fitting to stay... La Estrella.”

  Her chin quivered. “I’m definitely not that.”

  “Have I stolen all your dreams, then?” he asked gently. “Have you no more faith?”

  “Wasn’t that the idea?” She drew a deep breath, fighting for composure. “You must be here for your agreement.”

  He shook his head. “I no longer need it.”

  “I see.” That could only mean one thing. He knew about the Cinderella Balls. Disappointment filled her. She’d hoped he’d come because his love for her was so overpowering it had surmounted all the obstacles that stood between them—his anger, his mistrust, even his hunger for revenge. But then, what had she expected? A miracle? “In that case, I assume my father’s already spoken to you.”

  “Not yet, although we have quite a few matters to discuss, I would imagine.”

  “But you found out, didn’t you? That’s why you’ve returned?”

  Slowly he shook his head. “You have lost me, amada. What is it I’m supposed to have discovered?”

  “I’m talking about—” Her breath caught unexpectedly in a tiny, revealing break. “I’m talking about your finding out the truth.”

  His eyes narrowed. “And what truth is that?”

  “That there aren’t going to be any more Cinderella Balls. There never were!”

  His brows snapped together. “Again, Ella. And more clearly this time.”

  A tiny flutter of some emotion, an emotion precariously close to hope fought for rebirth. “You’re positive my father didn’t say anything to you?”

  “I’ve just told you that we haven’t spoken,” he replied impatiently. “Now what’s going on? What has happened?”

  “The night of the last Cinderella Ball, my mother revealed that she and Dad had decided to put an end to them. They’d gotten to an age where it was too difficult and stressful to organize such elaborate events.” She gazed at him uncertainly. “You really didn’t know?”

  “Madre de Dios!” He reached her in two swift strides. “This is true?” he rasped, catching hold of her shoulders. “You knew from the beginning there would be no more balls?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why did you not tell me? Why did you keep it a secret once I’d threatened—”

&nbs
p; “Can’t you guess?”

  He closed his eyes and grimaced. “Hell. It’s because you thought the truth would bring a rapid end to a hasty marriage, yes?”

  “You’d have walked away and never looked back,” she agreed.

  “You’re wrong. I was as consumed by you, as you were by me. If I’d walked, it wouldn’t have been far, nor would I have been long returning.” He gazed at her, his eyes like twin silver flames. “You were afraid, weren’t you? Afraid that if you didn’t marry, you’d lose your last opportunity for the Cinderella Ball to work its magic.”

  She glanced away. “I was a fool.”

  “Ella—”

  “No! I don’t want to hear it. You only came back because you wanted to see if your threat had worked.”

  He cupped the nape of her neck and forced her to look at him. “You will hear me, amada. I am not here for any such reason. No, don’t argue with me. Just listen. As far as I was aware, you’d refused to give me my agreement and were willing to lose your home rather than cave to my demands.”

  It took every ounce of willpower not to lean forward and surrender to his warm strength. “You weren’t wrong. We would have given in,” she admitted. “In fact, Dad’s been trying to reach you ever since we arrived home.”

  “To inform me there weren’t going to be any more balls?”

  “Yes.” She closed her eyes. “I should have told you the truth before we left Costa Rica. For that matter, I should have told you right from the start. I—I was wrong to put my parents at risk.”

  “You were lucky it didn’t go any further,” he concurred. “And just so you know, I’ve paid off their loan.”

  “Saying thank you hardly seems adequate. But I do thank you.” She eased from his arms and away from temptation. “We each have what we want now, don’t we?”

  “So there’s no reason to continue our marriage, is that what you mean?” He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back where she belonged. “Is it, amada?”

  The tears fell then. “Please, Rafe,” she whispered. “I can’t bear any more. You have what you came for. Can’t you just leave it at that and go?”

  “No, I can’t. You see, you took something that belonged to me when you left. It was something I didn’t even realize I possessed until I’d lost it.”

  “I have nothing of yours,” she instantly denied.

  “You hold it tight within your grasp even as we speak.”

  She splayed her fingers. “I have nothing,” she repeated.

  He caught her wrists in an iron grip. “Please look again. For somewhere in these hands you’ve hidden my heart. And I would like to know that it’s in safekeeping.”

  A sob tore at her throat. “Why have you come? Why have you really come?”

  “It’s difficult for me to say the words,” he confessed in a low voice. “But I had hoped this might speak them for me.”

  Reaching into his pocket, he removed a small, square jeweler’s box. She took it, shaking so badly she could barely manage to pry open the lid. Inside she found the wedding band she’d left behind. Only it had been repaired—and six colored gemstones encircled the ring, the largest a diamond.

  He lifted the band from its velvet nest. “The smaller stones are for each of the Cinderella Balls that have been held since your birth.”

  She spoke through the tears blocking her throat. “And the diamond?”

  “It is for the ball deserving the most recognition. The one where we wed. There’s an inscription inside.” She tilted the ring and in that instant hope dawned anew.

  It read, “Happily-ever-after.”

  This time she couldn’t stern the tears. She gestured toward his wedding band. “You’ve fixed yours, too.”

  He shrugged. “I am a rather crude jeweler. My ring kept snagging and I was afraid I would damage it.”

  “Does it also have an inscription?”

  “It says...” He dragged air into his lungs, his eyes black with emotion. “It says, ‘Forever.’ For if such a thing exists, I would spend it with you.”

  She gazed up at him, her eyes as brilliant as the stars found in a midnight sky. “I promise you it does. And if you’ll trust me just a little, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”

  “Ah, amada, my beloved wife.” He lowered his mouth to capture hers. “I will trust you to keep that promise.”

  EPILOGUE

  “RAFE, I’m fine,” Ella insisted. “It’s just a stitch. Nothing to worry about.”

  “Perhaps we should cancel the festivities.” His accent deepened with worry. “You’re in no condition—”

  “We can’t cancel the Anniversary Ball!” she protested. “It would disappoint so many people. They’ve been looking forward to this event for a full year. Besides, it’s too late to cancel anything. Our guests are due to arrive any minute, whereas our baby isn’t due for another two weeks.”

  He pulled her into his arms. “Naturally I would regret disappointing those who have come to celebrate their first anniversary with us. But my concern is for you and only you.” He rested his hand on her swollen belly in a gesture as intimate and tender as it was familiar. From the day he’d learned of her pregnancy, he’d made a habit of holding her like this, his long fingers splayed across the gradually increasing expanse of her stomach.

  “Our baby is active tonight,” Rafe murmured. “Anxious to join the world.”

  “Anxious to meet his father, you mean.”

  “His? You assume a lot, amada. Perhaps we’ll have a girl.” A slow smile of satisfaction crept across his mouth. “To hold a daughter in my arms would make me a happy man.”

  She gazed at him anxiously. “Would a son also please you?”

  “Very much, as you well know.”

  A light knock sounded at the door and Shayne peeked into the room. “Ella, your parents sent me. It’s time. The first guests are just arriving.”

  “We’ll be there in a moment,” Rafe said. He waited until his sister left before adding, “She looks better, don’t you think? Contented.”

  “She’ll be fine, Rafe.” Ella caressed the taut line of his jaw, feeling his tension ease beneath her loving touch. “Her mosaics are in constant demand. She just picked up three new commissions.”

  “Thanks to La Estrella,” Rafe inserted. “You have been a busy woman performing all those miracles. Shayne has a career she adores. Milagro has become happy and prosperous—”

  “That’s just because you changed your mind about selling Esperanza. As for Shayne’s personal life... Give her time. That will come, too.”

  “With you working your magic, how can I doubt it?” He pulled Ella closer, resting his jaw against her temple. “I made a mistake six years ago,” he confessed. “I took from her the one man she ever loved. That was wrong of me.”

  “You don’t know that for certain,” Ella replied gently. “None of us do. She was only seventeen. A mere child. You did what you thought necessary to protect her from harm.”

  “I should have given this McIntyre a chance. Perhaps it would have worked out between them.”

  “Regrets won’t change the past.” She kissed the worry from his expression. “Let it go, sweetheart.”

  “If you wish. For now.” Rafe slipped a supportive hand around her waist and looked down at her, his eyes a brilliant shade of silver. “Come, amada. It’s time to greet our guests. I have arranged for a chair to be placed at the head of the receiving line for you. You are to tell me if you experience so much as a twinge. Understood?”

  She smiled, a smile full of love and joy. “Understood.”

  “Chick, if you’d let me get a word in edgewise I’ll tell you how we first met,” Jake Hondo groused.

  “But is this where you got married? Is it?” the six-year-old demanded. “Right here?”

  “They didn’t get married on the sidewalk,” Buster scoffed. “They did it inside. In that palace, over there.” He waved a hand toward the cupcake castle in the distance.


  “We did first meet on the sidewalk, though,” Wynne inserted, ruffling Chick’s pale blond hair.

  “And I told her to get lost,” Jake added dryly. “Not that she listened. Come to think of it, she still doesn’t listen all that well.”

  Wynne chuckled. “You should be used to it by now.”

  “Damn—I mean, danged straight,” he muttered soft enough that only she heard. “Though it’s come as one heck of a shock to find my life ordered around by a pint-sized elf and three noisy kids.”

  She just grinned. “You can’t fool me. You love every minute.”

  His gaze softened. “You’ve got that right. Every second of every minute of every hour of every day.”

  “You haven’t finished the story,” Chick complained, tugging on Jake’s suit jacket.

  “You’ve heard that story a thousand times,” Wynne protested. “You don’t really want to hear it again, do you?”

  “He likes it. And so do I,” Buster explained, before taking up the tale. “Then Uncle Jake married Aunt Wynne and found out about us. Boy howdy, he was ticked. You prob‘ly don’t remember ’cause you was too little.”

  “I do so remember! He cussed and Aunt Wynne yelled at him for cussin’.”

  Jake heaved an exaggerated sigh. “She still yells at me.”

  “There’s a simple solution to that,” Wynne retorted. “Stop cussin’.”

  “Spoilsport.”

  “I’m not done with the story!” Buster complained. “And then Uncle Jake saved you and me from freezin’ to death. And got rid of mean Aunt Marsh. Then they had Tracy. And last of all named her after our Mom once she got borned. Isn’t that how it happened?”

  Jake grinned. “Something like that.” As though in response to hearing her name, his three-month-old daughter gurgled in delight. He shifted her to his other arm and she fixed him with bright spring-green eyes beneath a mop of satiny black curls. He flicked her snub nose with a gentle finger. “Well, folks? We gonna stand out here jawing all day or do we go in and join the party? As I recall they have some mighty fine desserts in there.”

  “Desserts!” Chick and Buster shouted in unison.