Marry Me...Again

by Cheryl St. John

  “I didn’t know what to say.”

  “I don’t either.”

  “Do you want to tell her?” she asked, referring to the truth about their situation.

  “No, I don’t want to tell her. I don’t want to tell anyone.” He said the second part so softly she could barely hear him. “I don’t want to admit it.”

  She knew how he was feeling—partially anyway. “We can get through an evening with her, right? Can you get away?”

  “Everybody has to stop to eat and sleep,” he replied.

  “I’ll think of something for dinner, and you let me know what time you’ll be bringing her.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Brynna.”

  “Don’t thank me. I don’t deserve thanks.”

  He didn’t say anything for a moment. “So we’ll just eat a meal and pretend like things are normal?”

  “I guess so. Do you have a better idea?”

  “No.”

  “All right.” She wanted to tell him to be careful, that she missed him and had thought of nothing but the things they’d said over the last two weeks. That yesterday had been the worst day of her life. That him throwing his wedding ring away had shattered her last pretense. But she couldn’t. “Later, then.”

  At the hospital, she queried the nurses on what would be best to serve for dinner and took suggestions. She wouldn’t have much time to cook by the time she stopped for groceries and got home. Emma thought the best solution would be to pick up something at MonMart and Rae Ann suggested she order a pie from the Calico Diner. Sounded simple enough to her.

  Lord, Estelle Holmes had eaten in the best restaurants in Europe and Brynna was planning to serve her something from the deli? She fretted over the meal all day, finally deciding on a simple fare of chicken and vegetables. She could buy the chicken and dessert already prepared and cook the vegetables quickly.

  At a little after five, Brynna walked out of the Calico Diner with a boxed strawberry-rhubarb pie, realizing as she reached her car and placed the package on the back seat that she had bought Dev’s favorite. She stared at the box. Would he read meaning into her purchase? Was there any meaning, except that she was in the habit of thinking of them as a couple?

  At six-thirty, the front door opened and Dev called out. “We’re here!”

  Brynna smoothed her palms over her slacks and checked her hair in her reflection on the microwave door before going out to greet her mother-in—before going out to greet Dev’s mother. “Estelle,” she said warmly, “how nice to see you.”

  Estelle aimed a peck toward the cheek, but it missed. Her expensive perfume was a subtle essence all her own. She was a tall woman, slender with angular shoulders and hips she disguised in cash mere designer suits. Her hair was a beautiful silver white, and she always wore it in an elegantly loose roll with seemingly careless wisps that framed her cheeks. Today she wore yellow diamond earrings with a camel-colored suit. “It’s lovely to see you, too, my dear.”

  “Was your flight okay?”

  “Devlin’s a good pilot,” she said. “His planes aren’t first-class accommodations, but they’re better than driving. He even had roses for me.” She turned to her son. “Where are those? I’ll want them in water in my room.”

  Dev exchanged a look with Brynna. Her room? She planned to stay? If she stayed, how would they keep up the ruse that Dev was still living here?

  “I’ll bring them in when I get your other bags,” he replied and placed her butter-colored leather carry-on on the floor.

  “I’m sure you’d like to freshen up before dinner,” Brynna said. “I’ve laid out towels, and you can use the guest room to change.”

  “Thank you. Devlin will bring my things.” Estelle picked up her carry-on and headed up the stairs. “You’ve done some decorating,” she commented, glancing around.

  “Some.” Once Estelle was out of earshot, Brynna turned to Dev. “She’s staying?”

  He nodded. “At least one night. Apparently painters aren’t finished with her rooms at home, and she’s delaying her arrival. I’m sorry, Brynna. My only options were to tell her the truth and fly her on to Seattle or bring her here.”

  “You had to bring her, of course. We can’t tell her.” Brynna raised her clasped hands to her lips in thought. She met Dev’s green eyes and saw his gaze move to the wedding ring she wore.

  She forced herself to not look at his left hand at his side, not to seek out the empty ring finger. If she looked, the empty cavity that had once been her heart would ache unbearably again, as it had when he’d thrown his ring away, as it did every time she thought of that.

  With their whole life unsettled between them, how were they going to pull this off? She lowered her hands. “You’d better get her things. I have to check the asparagus.”

  She busied herself with the remaining dinner preparations.

  Later, seated at the dining room table which had been set with their wedding china, lit candles and fresh-cut daisies—another purchase she’d made before realizing they were Dev’s favorites, not hers—they ate. Estelle dabbed her lips delicately with her napkin. “This chicken is delicious, dear.”

  “Thank you. It’s Dev’s favorite.”

  Estelle glanced at her strapping son with elegant surprise. “I didn’t think you cared for chicken, Devlin.”

  “That’s Derek, Mother,” he said, referring to his older brother.

  “Well, in any case, this is very good. I’ll have to have the recipe for our cook.”

  Brynna glanced at Dev, but he showed no expression.

  “I like what you’ve done with the walls in here,” Estelle said, complimenting the wallpaper and decor. Brynna and Dev had selected the colors and paper for the downstairs and Dev had hired workers to do the paint and pasting. “Those framed scenes remind me of the countryside in Switzerland. Do you remember the little village where we stayed, Devlin?”

  “I didn’t go to Switzerland with you,” he replied. “I was in school in Cambridge that year.”

  “Devlin was a very bright student,” she told Brynna. “But don’t let him fool you. He did more backpacking in Europe than he ever did studying in California.”

  His mother went on talking, but Brynna tuned her out, realizing this wasn’t the first time she’d heard Dev correcting his mother’s remembrances. Slowly, understanding dawned on her. Dev may have had a privileged upbringing and education, but his parents had been as distant as hers. At least Brynna was close to her sister and brothers; Dev didn’t even keep in touch with his older brother.

  “I suppose it’s too soon to hope you’ll be starting a family,” Estelle was saying when Brynna again focused on her chatter.

  Brynna’s ears hummed. A family…

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dev had carried slices of the golden-crusted fruit pie from the kitchen, and the pause in placing a plate before his mother was barely perceptible. Estelle didn’t notice that he swallowed hard before replying, but Brynna did. Could that comment possibly have affected him as deeply as it had her?

  “It’s a little soon,” he replied simply, revealing none of the distress Brynna knew he was feeling. “We’re busy with our jobs.”

  An ache had lodged in Brynna’s chest. When Dev set a slice of pie before her, she noted his long fingers, the strength of his wrist and forearm, and she stared at her plate.

  “What is it you do at Colby’s farm?” his mother asked, oblivious to the turbulent undercurrents in the room.

  Dev seated himself before answering calmly. “It’s a ranch. I help with the stock, that’s what ranchers do.”

  “Stock, as in cows?”

  “Cattle and horses. Colby has an eye for good horses.”

  Estelle’s disapproval of Dev’s ranch job had never been a secret. She made no comment, but sampled her pie and glanced at Brynna. “Do you have someone who comes in to cook?”

  “No,” Brynna replied. “But I did let Dev talk me into hiring a lawn service and someone to do the heavy cleaning once
a week. The help is a lifesaver, what with my two jobs.”

  “Why are two jobs necessary, dear? Surely Dev provides you with all you need.”

  “I have one more year of residency before I can set up my own practice,” she explained. “And I volunteer at the clinic.”

  “I approve of charity work,” Estelle said with a benevolent nod.

  “Mother’s approval is a rare commodity,” Dev said lightly. “Take the gold seal and run, Brynn.”

  Brynna looked up to see if he was kidding, but his impassive face revealed no humor.

  “Tomorrow is Saturday,” Estelle said, changing the subject yet again. “Do you two have plans?”

  “It’ll take me a few hours to fly some friends to North Dakota,” Dev said.

  Phoebe and Robbie. Brynna had seen Phoebe that afternoon and the girl had told her Dev was making arrangements for them to go home, but that something unexpected had postponed their flight a day. That something unexpected had obviously been his mother’s visit. Brynna had no problem waiting another day to release Phoebe. Phoebe had told her that Dev had put up Robbie in a room at a motel in Whitehorn.

  She glanced at Dev, thinking of all the kind things he did for people…for her… She learned more about him all the time, was constantly reminded that she hadn’t known him at all when they’d…married.

  “And you, Brynna?” Estelle asked. “What are your plans?”

  Brynna brought herself out of her thoughts to reply. “I have to make rounds in the morning,” she replied. “That’s about it.”

  Estelle laid down her fork. “Well, then the weekend lies before us, doesn’t it? Devlin, you can make your flight while Brynna sees her patients. Afterward, I’d like you to fly me home.”

  “I can do that, Mother,” he replied. “No problem.”

  “We will have a pleasant family weekend at the estate.”

  “I need to help here with the fire,” he replied.

  “Very well, just one day, then. Surely, the two of you can forfeit one day for your family.”

  The two of them? Brynna met Dev’s dispassionate green eyes. His mother rarely called and had only once before invited them to her home. What would Dev’s answer be?

  “You’ll already be flying me to Seattle,” she continued. “Brynna will come with us and you can stay a day. One day won’t make much of a difference here, but it will mean a lot to me.”

  Brynna resented the woman’s obvious manipulation and her inference that Dev’s help didn’t mean much. He seemed to take her comments in stride, however, his expression impassive. Brynna had never seen him get upset about anything—until yesterday. Yesterday he’d plainly shown his anger and frustration—with her.

  “I’ll leave the decision up to Brynna,” he said, resting his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers. “She has her schedule to work around.” As he studied her, one eyebrow rose in question.

  She didn’t know what to say. Was he actually deferring to her preference? Or was he shucking the dilemma onto her shoulders? Both, probably.

  “It means a lot to you that we come, Estelle?” she queried hesitantly.

  “Yes, it does. I’ve had the house redecorated, and I want you to see it. And I’ve planned a small dinner party. I’d love to show you off.”

  She could say no; it was short notice. But Dev’s mother had never asked before, so Brynna would feel bad turning her down. She felt pressured to agree and without being able to discuss it with Dev in private, she didn’t know what to do except go along. “All right,” she said. “We’ll come.”

  “Wonderful!” Estelle smiled and patted Brynna’s hand. “Pack something suitable for the event. It’s a dressy occasion, Devlin.”

  “Of course.” He stood, gathering cups and plates.

  Brynna helped him, and in the kitchen said softly, “Did you want me to agree?”

  “I left it up to you.”

  She opened the dishwasher, her hand trembling. She’d never been around Dev when he didn’t touch her, didn’t give her a special smile, didn’t have a secret look just for her, and she felt lonelier than when she was here alone.

  She had asked him to leave. She had made that decision. Now she tried to remember why, and all she could recall was that she’d been hurt and confused, and he hadn’t said the things she’d needed to hear. How would she live through the coming night and day, pretending in front of his mother that all was well, while feeling the isolation created by this emotional wall between them?

  They sat in the living room visiting for over an hour before Dev asked if they minded if he turned on the TV to catch the news. When the weather was over, Estelle excused herself for the night and went upstairs.

  Brynna couldn’t help but look at Dev, waiting for his lead, hoping he had a plan for how they would handle this.

  He aimed the remote and muted the volume on the television. “I can fall asleep down here watching the tube,” he said. “I have to head out early in the morning, so she’ll be none the wiser.”

  “Whatever you want.” Brynna stood.

  “Oh, that’s rich,” he said drily.

  She turned to look at him. “What do you mean?”

  “Whatever I want? When has any of this been about what I want?”

  Warmth flooded her body. Words escaped her mind. She shook her head without comment. Finally, she walked toward the door, then stopped and turned back. “We’ve agreed to this trip, so we’ll make the best of it for the time being. This is for her sake, because we can’t bring ourselves to tell her.”

  “Have you told Melanie our marriage wasn’t legal?”

  “No,” she admitted softly.

  “Why not?”

  She shrugged and ran a hand through her hair, then propped it on her hip. “I don’t know. I just can’t admit it, I guess.”

  He worked his boots off. “You’re humiliated?”

  Devastated. Heartbroken. Lonely. Her throat ached with the gut-twisting feelings. “Yes.”

  “Someday we’ll have to tell the truth,” he said. “People in Rumor know I’m not living here. We’ll either have to tell the truth or say we’re divorced.”

  She couldn’t think that far ahead. Not right now. Not tonight. Every day was a struggle just to keep herself pulled together for the moment and the day’s work. Regret and misgivings welled up and threatened to choke her if she didn’t voice them. “Dev, I made a mistake.”

  Dev glanced up at her, a hundred things going through his mind. What was she admitting to being wrong about?

  “About the lawyer,” she went on, “and not telling you right away—not showing you the letter.”

  He tore his gaze away to study the vase of dried flowers on the sofa table. Damned right she’d made a mistake.

  “I should have shown you right away. I have this need to control everything, and I started thinking about what I should do and…and, well, you know that. Anyway…I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you as soon as I got the letter.”

  He couldn’t get past her initial reaction to the news, though. “Your first thought was that it applied only to you,” he said without emotion. “Not to us. You were more concerned about the house than about the fact that we weren’t really married.”

  “I’m just accustomed to handling things,” she said, as though that excused her neglect to call him.

  “Well, you handled it.” Dev’s defenses had built a sturdy wall by this time. He had asked her forgiveness once, and she had thrown his actions back at him. So much for graceful acceptance and forgiveness, eh? When had their relationship become a test of wills over who could hold the longest grudge? He made himself sick. He knew what he was doing, and he did it anyway.

  “Go to bed,” he said wearily.

  “There are pillows and a quilt in the hall closet,” she said.

  “I know.”

  Brynna turned and left the room.

  Dev tried to concentrate on the television for a while, then slept fitfully, awakening in the wee hours of th
e morning. The house was still dark as he crept silently up the stairs and down the carpeted hallway. The door to their bedroom was closed; he turned the knob and entered the shadowed room.

  Brynna lay curled on her side, a hand beneath her cheek, one long leg revealed in the moonlight that filtered through the parted curtains. As he neared the bed, her familiar scent enveloped him, conjuring up images of stroking her silken skin while burying his face in luxurious hair that always smelled of almond shampoo. He loved this woman with a passion that outweighed pride and anger and humiliation.

  “Brynn?” he said softly.

  “Hmm?” She was a light sleeper. She woke at the sound of her name and leaned up on one elbow. Her fragrant hair fell over the side of her face and she held it back to peer up at him. “Dev, what’s wrong?”

  “I forgive you.” He backed away, turned and shut the door behind him as he left, leaving her staring after him in the darkness.

  Brynna glanced at her watch as she left the hospital. Eleven. Seven hours ago, in the black morning hours before dawn, Dev had awakened her to say the words that had been in her head and on her heart ever since. Starting her car and backing it out of the staff parking lot, she headed for the highway. She’d stared at the ceiling this morning until the rising sun had poked through the blinds to paint stripes above her head.

  And then she’d pushed away from the bed, which over the past few weeks had increasingly grown too large and cold, to shower and dress for the day, hurrying to pack a bag for the trip.

  Estelle had still been sleeping, and Brynna recalled from her last visit that she didn’t arise until around ten, so before Brynna left, she set out a cup and tea bags on the counter where Estelle would spot them.

  Now she pulled her phone from her bag and hit the auto dial for her home number. On the third ring, Dev picked up, “Hello.”

  “You’re home.”

  “I’m here.”

  Belatedly, she realized her blunder. Home.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “You got Phoebe and Robbie home okay?” she asked to cover her careless words.