Finally A Bride

by Renee Ryan

  Man and cat made quite the homey picture.

  From beneath her lowered lashes, she continued watching Garrett interact with Mrs. Singletary. He was good with people, always had been, his easy manner encouraging them to let down their guard. Mrs. Singletary seemed to be no exception, as she candidly regaled him with stories from her youth.

  “I’ll admit growing up in a mining camp was an unconventional, often dangerous upbringing,” she said after a particularly harrowing tale about losing her way in a mine shaft at the age of seven. “I learned the value of hard work and the importance of seeing a job through to its completion.”

  Considering her with thoughtful eyes, Garrett moved his hand to the cat’s back and ran his fingertips along her spine. “Those are valuable lessons for any child.”

  “Quite so.”

  He continued his lazy stroking of the cat’s fur. She thumped her tail rhythmically against his leg in blissful feline approval.

  “I’m curious, Mr. Mitchell.” Mrs. Singletary leaned forward to snare a tiny cake off the tray her housekeeper had brought in earlier. “What was it like growing up on a ranch like the Flying M?”

  “It was hard, physical, often grueling work.” A line of concentration formed between his eyes. “The day started at sunrise and ended at sunset.”

  “Sounds exhausting. No wonder you became a lawyer.”

  He moved a shoulder. “Every season had its challenges, but there were rewards, too. As you yourself said, there’s satisfaction in a job well done.”

  “True, true.” She went for another cake. “Tell me about your family.”

  “Not much to tell.” He uncrossed his ankles, readjusted his position, crossed them again. “We’re like most families. We work hard, band together in times of need, turn to God when all seems hopeless and praise the Lord for our many blessings.”

  “How lovely.” For a brief moment, she looked overcome with sadness. A trick of the light? Molly wondered.

  “How many brothers and sisters do you have?”

  “There are seven of us.”

  “And where do you fall among them, agewise?”

  Thunder rumbled from somewhere in the distance. He briefly looked toward the sound, his gaze as distant as the mountain peaks beyond the balcony. The question wasn’t a hard one, or particularly probing, yet he seemed slightly disturbed by it.

  “I’m the middle boy. Logan and Hunter are the oldest, barely a year apart in age. Then there’s me, followed by my two sisters. The twins, Peter and Paul, bring up the rear.”

  The widow absorbed this information a moment, giving Molly a chance to do so, as well. There was something in the way Garrett had grouped his brothers and sisters—two by two—that gave her new insight into his childhood.

  Why had she not made the connection before?

  Garrett had been the odd man out in his family, much as Molly had been hers. Though she adored her younger brothers, they’d always been closer with one another than with her. Part of that, she knew, had to do with their considerable age differences. Ethan was a full six years younger than Molly, and Ryder almost eight.

  “So every child in your family had a partner, so to speak, except you.”

  Looking taken aback, Garrett stilled his hand and said, “I guess that’s one way of looking at it.”

  Slitting open an eye, the cat butted her head against his open palm until he resumed his petting.

  “You must have been terribly lonely.”

  “Lonely?” He laughed. “Not even remotely. I was surrounded by cows, horses, dogs. People. My younger siblings were always underfoot. The older ones constantly dished out orders. Then there were the ranch hands, my parents and…”

  His words trailed off and his eyebrows furrowed together. His chest rose and fell over and over again. “Well, hmm…”

  The poor man looked poleaxed. Molly desperately wanted to go to him. She wanted to smooth away that look of shock on his face, wanted to tell him she knew what it meant to be surrounded by people, even people who loved her, and still feel alone.

  Perhaps that had been the reason they’d gravitated toward one another as children, at least initially. Although neither of them had recognized it at the time, their mutual loneliness had helped them form a strong bond.

  “You weren’t without a partner,” she blurted out. “Not when I was around.”

  Oh, my. She’d just said that out loud.

  Garrett gave her a slow smile reminiscent of the amusing, clever boy always ready to tackle their next adventure.

  “That’s certainly true. I was always a willing participant in whatever scheme you’d cooked up.” He spoke so simply, with such confident nonchalance that her heart skidded to a stop. “What I never understood, though, was why enlist me in your plans at all? Why not ask Callie or Fanny to join you?”

  Didn’t he know? “You were far more daring than your sisters.” She gave him a saucy smile. “And five times more fun.”

  His lips twisted at a sardonic angle. “We did have fun.”

  They stared at one another a moment, both apparently lost in memories of better days, when their time together had transcended words. She was aware of the same warm, curious pull she’d always felt every time she was near him.

  She remembered the day when they’d suddenly, unexpectedly, gone from friends to something…more.

  Her visit to the Mitchell ranch had started as all the others before. She’d climbed the steps onto the front porch ahead of her family, set a little apart—a little alone—and had marched straight toward Garrett.

  By the time she’d reached out, took his hands in hers and said, “Garrett, my dear, dear friend,” her feelings of friendship had turned into love.

  The transformation had happened that quickly.

  He’d been equally struck. Or so he said. Yet, three months later he’d walked away without a backward glance.

  “Am I to understand…” Mrs. Singletary cleared her throat. “You two were close as children?”

  Close? The word didn’t begin to describe their relationship back then. Even before they’d fallen in love, their connection had been deeper than mere friendship, as if God Himself had drawn them together—one reckless adventure at a time.

  Exhausted, laughing until it hurt, they would cook up their next plot. They also discussed life’s most perplexing problems. Sometimes Garrett would help her design a formula for her latest concern, at others he simply listened as she worked out the particulars on her own.

  They’d discussed spiritual matters, too, everything from whether or not animals went to heaven to more complicated topics such as predestination and why God allowed injustices in the world.

  Molly’s love for the Lord had been strengthened during those conversations, her faith secured.

  “Yes, we were—” Garrett smiled at Molly “—close.”

  “Ah” was the widow’s only response. However, the satisfied look she divided between Molly and Garrett spoke volumes. She now had all the ammunition she needed to continue her matchmaking scheme.

  Molly went statue-still. She could feel her cheeks flaming as words backed up in her throat.

  Equally silent, Garrett focused on the cat’s thick fur. After a moment, he lifted his gaze. “I should go.” He unfolded his large frame and stood. “I have an early appointment in the morning.”

  All politeness and gentlemanly manners, he took Mrs. Singletary’s hand and placed a kiss above her knuckles. “Thank you for an enjoyable evening. It’s been…enlightening.”

  “For me, as well.” She set her hand on the arm of her chair and peered at him, a question in her eyes. “I trust you found an opportunity to discuss my business proposition with Reese this afternoon.”

  He let out a low sound of agreement. “If you still wish to expand your financial empire and increase your charitable offerings, I will gladly offer my assistance.”

  “Excellent. Most excellent, indeed.” She pushed gracefully to her feet. “We’ll begin our pr
eliminary discussions tomorrow morning, at ten o’clock sharp. Come here prepared to work.”

  Although he didn’t show any outward reaction to this imperious command, he did, however, say, “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. I will be unavailable until early afternoon.”

  A beat of silence followed this statement.

  The two regarded one another, neither balking, neither giving way.

  At last, Mrs. Singletary smiled. “Tomorrow afternoon will be fine.”

  Garrett’s head tilted in a slight bow. “Very good.”

  At his flat tone, the widow’s smile turned into a hearty laugh. “I believe, Mr. Mitchell, you and I will get on quite well.”

  “You may count on it.”

  “Then I will say good evening.”

  He responded in kind, shot Molly a brief farewell from over his shoulder and strode toward the door.

  Molly watched him go, a sense of relief relaxing her shoulders. The evening hadn’t been so bad. She and Garrett had survived their time together.

  Ah, but Mrs. Singletary wasn’t through with them just yet. “Molly, be a love and escort our guest to the door.”

  * * *

  As the two young people exited the room, Beatrix Singletary clasped her hands together in delight. She couldn’t be more pleased with her choice of suitor for her sweet companion.

  Garrett Mitchell was smart, shrewd and nobody’s fool. His steady nature was a perfect foil for Molly’s less predictable one. Their individual strengths and weaknesses would balance out one another perfectly.

  His calm to her storm.

  Her feistiness to his more guarded personality.

  Beatrix was going to enjoy watching them fall in love. Not that their road to happiness would be a smooth one. Those two stubborn souls were going to fight her every step of the way.

  She looked forward to the challenge.

  She had little else to look forward to these days. Tears misted in her eyes, a far too often occurrence of late.

  Her thoughts turned to her deceased husband and the loneliness she battled daily. “Oh, Lord, I miss my dear, dear Reginald.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “So terribly much.”

  A large, silky paw swatted at her skirt.

  Sniffing away her melancholy, Beatrix smiled down at her treasured feline and refocused on her plan. With the Lord’s help, and a good nudge from her, two worthy young people would unite their lives together in holy matrimony.

  “I give them less than a month before they succumb to the inevitable. What say you, my lady?”

  The cat gave her a skeptical meow.

  “Very true.” She picked up her baby and cuddled her close. “We better keep a close eye on those two. Left to their own devices, there’s no telling what missteps they’ll take.”

  Her course set, she headed to the stairwell to indulge in some necessary spying.

  Chapter Eight

  Garrett released a slow, steady breath. The gesture reduced the tension between his shoulders not one bit. Given a choice, he’d prefer to see himself out. He desperately needed the time to clear his mind. Talk of his childhood had left him feeling uneasy.

  Now, his head was full of a time when he’d thought his future would always be linked with Molly’s. Beatrix Singletary was a crafty one, purposely guiding him mentally—and emotionally—through the past, with Molly by his side.

  Garrett didn’t appreciate the widow’s machinations. He didn’t appreciate the way she’d made him question why he’d come back to Denver, wondering if Molly had been a small part of his reasoning. He refused to consider the possibility for even a moment. Instead, he focused his frustration on Mrs. Singletary.

  Subterfuge and trickery were no way to begin a business relationship. Her unhanded tactics went against everything he believed about good Christian behavior.

  Let a man’s yes be yes and his no be no.

  There were several solutions to the problem. He could walk away from his agreement with the widow. Or he could follow the Biblical model and confront the widow directly.

  The first would be taking the easy way out. He’d never been one to choose a path simply to avoid discomfort. That left the other, more straightforward route. He made up his mind to speak with Mrs. Singletary about his concerns when next they met—in a respectful manner, of course. Using a clear, succinct argument he would ask her to cease her matchmaking efforts at once.

  In the meantime, there were a few things he and Molly needed to get straight.

  “Hold up a minute.” Taking her arm, he gently steered her into an alcove surrounded by an assortment of potted plants. It was a fairly secluded spot, perfect for a private conversation. “We need to talk.”

  She pivoted to face him. “I know.”

  “Mrs. Singletary is playing—”

  “Matchmaker.” She completed his thought for him. Then, with an ironic lift of her eyebrows, she added, “With you and me as her—”

  “Intended victims.” Garrett finished Molly’s statement, and earned a droll smile for his efforts.

  He felt his own lips twitch. They’d always been able to complete one another’s sentences. Time and distance should have put up a metaphorical wall between them.

  But no, they were still as connected as ever.

  Not sure how he felt about that, he rolled his shoulders and refocused on Molly. “When did you figure out her—”

  “Plan?” She shrugged. “I had my suspicions this afternoon. But I didn’t know for certain until tonight, after the opera. Her questions about your childhood were too specific. It was as if she were leading you to a particular memory. And when she asked about our relationship, well, she clearly—”

  “Revealed her intentions?”

  Molly nodded, paused, looked as if she had more to say.

  Garrett held his tongue, waiting for the rest.

  But she remained as silent as he.

  “Molly—”

  “Garrett—”

  They both heaved a sigh.

  He pressed a fingertip to her lips, holding off whatever else she’d been meaning to say.

  Her eyes danced with amusement. Garrett felt his own lips lift in a smile. How many times had they struck this exact pose, for this very reason?

  Too many to count.

  Garrett’s gut churned with a sensation that felt stronger than affection, deeper than fondness and more than a little complicated for his peace of mind.

  He dropped his hand. “We need to put an end to this madness before it goes any further. I’ll speak with Mrs. Singletary tomorrow.”

  “I’ll speak with her as well,” Molly offered. “Except…there might be a problem.”

  She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, and a thoughtful expression spread across her face. “I’m afraid, no matter how forthright we are with Mrs. Singletary, simply asking her to desist won’t deter her.”

  Garrett tilted his head back, eyebrows raised.

  “Once the widow sets her mind on something, she doesn’t give up until she accomplishes her goal.”

  An admirable trait. In business. Irritation rippled and his tone turned sharp. “She can’t force us to fall in with her scheme merely because she’s decided we suit.”

  “Garrett, you mustn’t hold her resolve against her.” Molly touched his sleeve, her tone earnest. “Mrs. Singletary means well.”

  Molly would know better than he. “Nevertheless, I won’t be forced into—”

  “Feeling something you don’t feel?”

  “That wasn’t what I was going to say.” He felt plenty. That was the problem. He could easily fall for Molly again.

  She would reciprocate, he saw it in the way she leaned toward him, in the way her eyes filled with a soft, gentle emotion. He’d seen her stare at him like that before often enough.

  They would be good together. For a time. But Garrett would accept nothing less than Molly’s whole heart.

  And that she couldn’t give.

  “I won’t be forced into
a romance that neither of us wants,” he declared, his tone grave.

  She opened her mouth. Shut it without speaking. Then, an all-too-familiar twinkle filled her gaze.

  Garrett’s breath caught.

  “How about—” Molly batted her long, dark, beautiful lashes at him “—we give her what she wants?”

  Shock had him taking a step back. “What? No.”

  “Garrett Mitchell, I’m disappointed in you. What happened to the bold, daring boy I used to know?” She pursed her lips then let her gaze wander over him, slowly, confidently, a familiar challenge in her eyes. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

  His reaction to her goading was not rational. Standing before him in all her feminine glory was the thrill-seeking girl he’d once loved with all his heart. The one he’d happily accompanied into all sorts of trouble. She might have been the mastermind behind their schemes, but Garrett had always been the first to take action.

  He closed his eyes against the unwanted memories sliding into place, smooth and effortless, urging him to forget he was a responsible attorney now, with a reputation to uphold in the community.

  “Think about it,” she suggested in that sly, taunting voice he still heard in his dreams. “If we allow Mrs. Singletary to believe her plot is working, we maintain the control.”

  He allowed his own gaze to wander over her, slowly, confidently, with equal challenge. “Let me get this straight. You want us to pretend to fall in love so we can control Mrs. Singletary’s matchmaking efforts?”

  Her logic was flawed. It had to be flawed. But, at the moment, with her floral scent teasing his nostrils, he couldn’t figure out exactly how.

  “Don’t you see? If we enter a courtship knowing how it ends, no one walks away hurt.”

  Someone always walked away hurt. The day he’d boarded that train for Boston had been the lowest of his life. He couldn’t go through that again. He wouldn’t put himself in a position for that sort of pain again.

  “If your employer won’t listen to reason, I’ll refuse to work with her.” Warming to the idea, he gave a firm nod. “It’s the simplest solution. Quick, efficient and…” He shot Molly a pointed look. “Honest.”

  “Yes, yes.” She brushed his comment impatiently aside with a flick of her fingers. “You do realize she’s already made up her mind? You quit now and all you’ll do is throw away an excellent opportunity to advance your career. Mrs. Singletary, on the other hand, will devise countless other ways to throw us together. She’s very clever.”