by Helen Lacey
But first, Marshall thought and smiled, he had a couple of things he had to take care of.
*****
Holly was surprised that her father and brothers were still in town. And that they hadn’t ganged up on her and started insisting she return to the city. In fact, they were quiet and subdued on the couple of occasions they’d spoken to her since her announcement that the wedding was off. She hadn’t heard from Marshall and that suited her just fine! Stupid ass jerk. She really did hate him.
On Thursday afternoon she took a few hours off, citing fatigue. Sam, as always, was understanding and caring, even though he’d been in a dark mood all week, no doubt due to the fact that his ex-fiancé was arriving back in town on Saturday. He had dropped her off from Lola’s on Tuesday night, saying little, and she was glad he wasn’t dishing out advice. If one more person told her how Marshall Harris was a great guy, she would scream. She was tired of thinking about him. Tired of dwelling about the hopelessness of it all. He didn’t even have enough consideration for her feelings to even try and fight for her. He really wasn’t worth her tears or broken heart.
Because she was broken. She hurt all over. And she was sick to death of crying. Her eye sockets hurt—she’d cried so much in the past twenty-four hours, until Julie reminded her that being upset wasn’t good for the baby. And she wasn’t risking her baby’s well-being for anything or anyone, including the no-good, low-life, pain-in-the-ass idiot who’d fathered her child.
She was tidying the kitchen when she heard a knock on her door. Her immediate thought was that it was Marshall, and she looked down at the scruffy T-shirt and cut off shorts and considered changing for a moment—but it was her father standing on the other side of the door.
“I need to talk to you,” he said and crossed the threshold.
“Where are Ben and Alistair?” she asked and led him to the living room.
“Around,” he said and she noticed how tired and haggard he looked.
She thought she heard a car door slam, but was too concerned about her father to go back to the front door and check it out. “Are you okay, Dad?”
He expelled a weary breath. “I haven’t been much of a father to you, have I Holly?”
Stunned by his question, she stared at him. “You’ve been—”
“I blamed you for your mother leaving,” he admitted, clearly disturbed. “That was wrong of me. She left because of me, Holly. Not you. And I loved you too much to allow her to take you with her. I’m sorry if I ever made you believe that it was your fault. Can you forgive me?”
In all her life, Holly had never imagined her father, usually so stoic and stern about things, would ever make such a revelation. And she wasn’t going to make light of his words. Or deny them.
“I forgive you,” she said unsteadily.
He sighed heavily. “I was afraid you’d leave too,” he admitted. “And that’s no excuse. I can’t undo the past, Holly…but I hope we can move forward.”
“Of course we can,” she assured him.
“I know where she is,” he said quietly, seriously. “If you ever feel as though you need to make contact…then I’ll understand.”
Holly’s heart rattled. Over the years she’d thought about it. Imagined it. But she’d been too afraid to approach her father with the idea. She felt numb when she thought about her mother…but perhaps it was a bridge she needed to cross.
She nodded. “I’ll think about it. And while we’re on the subject of forgiveness, can you forgive me for not wanting to be a part of the family business?”
His mouth twisted. “You really like it here?”
She nodded. “I love this town.”
“And this man of yours?” he enquired, coming a little closer. “This saddle-maker. Do you love him, too?”
Holly hiccupped with emotion. “Oh, Dad, I love him something awful.”
Her father drew her into his arms and held her tight and Holly immediately sobbed against his shoulder. “Come on, kiddo, you’re made of tougher stuff than this. You just have to work out a way to get him back.”
“I don’t want him back,” she said defiantly. “Not unless he’s willing to fight for me. And he’ll never do that.”
Her father raised a querying brow. “You sure about that?”
“Positive,” she replied. “He’s still in love with his wife.”
Her father tutted something she couldn’t quite make out and then said he had to leave. She walked him to the front door and when she opened up, reeled back in surprise.
Alistair and Ben were on the lawn, lounging in camping chairs, Nate and Joley Garrigan were standing by the letterbox and Levi and Sam were resting their behinds against the fence, while Julie was behind the flowerbed.
And Marshall, looking so gorgeous in jeans and a chambray shirt, was standing by the gate, an ornate saddle perched against one hip. Holly met his gaze and his brown eyes were serious and unmoving.
She tensed and loitered by the door. “Dad,” she said softly. “What is this?”
He father smiled. “Well, kiddo, I think this is him fighting for you.”
Holly’s heart lurched and she watched as her father headed down the steps and plopped into a camping chair beside her brothers. She remained where she was, rooted to the spot, watching as Marshall walked a few strides up the path and then halted at the bottom of the steps.
“This is for you,” he said and eased the saddle off his hip and laid it down at her feet.
Holly stared at the gift. His craftsmanship was obvious. The tan leather had been worked in with a few other shades, and the intricate leather work was mindboggling. There was a row of diamantes along the cantle and the skirt roll and it had the shiniest hot pink stirrups she’d ever seen. Her heart skipped a beat. Because, if that wasn’t enough, her name was carved into the fender. It was beautiful and she knew it would have taken him hours to create.
Her eyes burned and she swallowed hard. “My very own M.K Harris saddle?”
“Your very own,” he said quietly, his gaze not leaving hers.
“With pink stirrups?”
His mouth twisted. “If I remember correctly, it’s what the lady ordered.”
She smiled. “When did you do this?” she asked.
“I started it a few weeks ago,” he replied.
“Why?”
“Because I’d give you the world if I could, Holly.”
“I don’t want the world,” she admitted.
“I know,” he said softly. “But I’d give it to you, just the same.”
She let out an exasperated sigh. “What are you really doing here?”
“Making things right.”
She glanced at all the people on her lawn and scowled. “By inviting everyone I know to hang out on my front lawn while you make an idiot of yourself?”
He nodded. “These are the people you and I care about, Holly,” he said, his hands outstretched. “And I wanted them all to be in this place, at this time, to hear this.”
“To hear what?’ she asked suspiciously.
He took a breath. “To hear me tell you that I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Being a coward. For not telling you how I felt weeks ago.”
“I know how you feel about me,” she shot back. “Or don’t feel about me. You’ve made that very clear from the start. You want to marry me because of the baby.”
He shook his head. “I want to marry you, because the thought of not marrying you, actually makes me hurt inside.”
Holly’s heart leapt and she watched, mesmerized, as he withdrew something from his pocket. It was a ring. A beautifully cut solitaire that shimmered in the afternoon light.
“I’d like you to wear this, Holly, as a symbol of how I feel about you.”
It was a huge diamond and would have cost the earth. But she wasn’t letting him off the hook so easily. “So…how do you feel?”
He smiled, still staring up at her. “I feel grateful for every second I get to
spend with you. I can’t believe how lucky I feel knowing we’re going to have a child together. I feel happy knowing we can spend an evening watching an old movie together that we’ve both seen countless times before and still feel as though I’m watching it for the first time. And I feel so incredibly humbled that I am the man who gets to kiss you.”
Her insides lurched. He looked so earnest and his voice was raw and filled with emotion. “I want so badly to believe you.”
“You can,” he assured her. “The thing is, Holly…we all have one great love in our life.”
Holly felt as though she was dying inside, from a mix of hope and despair. “I know that…and I know that Lynette was your great—”
“No,” he said quickly. “She wasn’t.”
Color drained from Holly’s face. “But she was your wife and—”
“She was my best friend,” he said, like the words were painful. “She knew me better than anyone. We knew each other. We married young and never questioned our commitment to one another. And I loved her dearly. I still do and always will. Our relationship was grounded in friendship and companionship. But she wasn’t the great love of my life, Holly,” he said, holding up his shaking hands. “You are.”
Holly had never heard more beautiful words in her life. And this man…this strong and usually silent man, this man who she thought would remain broken for the rest of his life, had just announced to the world that he loved her. Really loved her. She looked down to the lawn, saw and heard her brothers clapping, saw her father nodding approvingly, saw Nate and Levi and Sam grinning, saw Joley and Julie with tears in their eyes and knew she had just been given an incredible gift. His heart.
“I love you, too.”
And then he was up the steps and she was in his arms and his mouth was on hers and he was kissing her madly. “Marry me,” he begged raggedly. “Say you’ll marry me.”
“I’ll marry you.”
His mouth was against her ear, his arms were strong and protective around her. “Thank you…for not giving up on me…for loving me.”
“You had me at hello,” she said, mimicking a line from one of her favorite movies.
He laughed and turned around to the people on the lawn, who were all smiling and laughing. “Did you hear that?” he said and laughed. “I had her at hello.”
His friends groaned and called him a schmuck and Holly experienced happiness so acute, so consuming, she could barely breath. “I think everyone should come inside?” she suggested.
Marshall frowned a little. “Or we could send them home and we could go inside, and I could make love to you and show you exactly how much I love you?”
Now that, she thought and kissed him, was the best idea she’d heard all day.
Epilogue
Marshall had tried three times to put the fairy princess hanging mobile together, and failed miserably every time. It didn’t help that his wife was watching from the sidelines, successfully drawing a sketch on the nursery wall that she intended coloring in afterwards.
“Stop pressuring me,” he said and turned the sheet of paper with the instructions around one more time.
Holly chuckled and moved to the other wall, her lovely silhouette never failing to make him take notice. In a short denim smock, black leggings and sneakers, she looked beautiful and vibrantly sexy. At nearly eight months along, pregnancy had incredibly amplified everything about her. Like her beautiful hair, that hung down her back in a wave of curls, or her seductive pink lips that were pure invitation that he could never get enough of.
“And stop distracting me,” he muttered under his breath.
She laughed again. “I’m not doing anything.”
“Hah,” he shot back and ditched the mobile, “so you say.”
Marshall took the pencil from her hand and dropped it, then eased her back into his lap and sat on the wing chair. She nestled against him and sighed as his hands moved around her cradling her belly. The baby moved, like she always did when he touched Holly, and an intense and painful burst of love coursed through his blood. He’d never, in all his life, imagined that he would or could, love anyone with the intensity that he loved Holly and the baby they had made together.
Their daughter, who was due to enter the world in about four weeks.
“Holly?”
She sighed and rested against him. “Yes, my love.”
“I think you’re right…I think we should call her Annette.”
Holly had suggested the name—a sweet combination of her mother Ann, and Lynette A way to honor both women, who in their different ways, had carved both Marshall and Holly into the people they were.
“I knew you’d come around,” she whispered and placed her hands on his.
He chuckled. “You always get your own way.”
She sighed. “I know.”
He hadn’t been convinced at first…it seemed too raw for them both. But a lot had changed in the past six months. They had married at Gwendonna in an intimate and simple ceremony and Holly had looked breathtaking in her ivory gown, with her friends Siobhan and Julie and Leisa as attendants. Nate had stood as his best man and Levi and Sam respectively as groomsmen.
Since then, they’d moved back to the farm and he worked three days a week in town and spent two at his workshop in the barn. Being with Holly was like a dream come true. And she had blossomed, resigning from Sam’s clinic, she had begun creating wedding cakes for several local brides and once the baby came, was keen to pursue the idea of starting a business in town. Whatever her decision, Marshall would support her unconditionally. Her father and brothers were regular visitors to Mulhany Crossing, and he suspected that would continue once their child was born and Colin Berrigan became a grandfather.
And Holly had begun reconnecting with her mother.
It had been a hard and emotional road for his wife. At her father’s urging, she’d written her mother a letter, and a week later had received one in return. Since then, there had been two telephone calls. Slow steps, and uneasy ones at times for Holly. But Marshall sensed it was the closure she needed.
Marshall had also made peace with his former in-laws. Dawn and Tom had learned to accept Holly and seemed keen to continue their relationship with him.
Life was sweet. He was happy.
Under Holly’s direct instructions, he had also finished Lynette’s Zen garden. It was a peaceful place and he often went there to talk to the woman who had loved him and asked for little in return. He didn’t regret one moment of the life he’d shared with Lynette…but Levi was right…he’d somehow managed to have two incredible women love him, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to screw it up.
“I love you, Holly.”
The words were so easy to say. Words he meant with all of his heart and soul.
And then Marshall kissed his wife.
~The End~
If you enjoyed this story you may like:
The Cattleman’s Proposal
An Excerpt
©Copyright Helen Lacey
“Something’s changed?”
Joley swung her attention from the ornate bridle she’d been admiring and met Lynette’s gaze. The other woman was watching her with a smile, both brows up high.
“Hmmm?”
“Between you and Nate, right?”
They’d been in Mulhany Crossing for a couple of hours. Nate was with Marshall checking out a Palouse colt Marshall’s younger sister was considering buying, while Joley remained at the saddlers with Lynette. It was Friday, Nate had been her lover since Monday—and Joley was flying on a wave of sexual euphoria unlike any she’d ever known. Intimacy had drawn them closer. There hadn’t been any words, or declarations, but she felt it. Everything they shared had deeper meaning, every kiss, every conversation, even simply holding his hand while they watched T.V. The words would come, she was sure of it.
He’d opened up so much—his ex-wife’s betrayal, the abandonment he’d felt when his mother bailed, the loss of his father. It made Joley fal
l in love with him all the more. Nate made her feel like she was the most beautiful woman on the planet. His unabashed reverence for her body was undeniable. Sometimes, they made love like there was no tomorrow, like each kiss would be their last. Other times, it was quiet, gentle and soul wrenching.
And they never spoke of the flight school. Or of her leaving.
But it was there, like an elephant in the room, just waiting to wreak havoc.
She looked at Lynette. Joley had never been the kiss and tell type, but she liked the other woman and knew they were becoming friends. “Right,” she admitted.
Lynette smiled. “I knew it. Good for you. No wonder he looked so chipper this morning.”
Joley knew she looked chipper herself. There was a glow about her cheeks and a silly grin she couldn’t control curving her mouth. “No wonder.”
Lynette laughed. “Gosh, I remember that look. When Marshall and I were first married we couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”
“And now?”
“Oh, you know, the tide changes. Don’t get me wrong, I adore my gorgeous husband. But thirteen years later…” Her voice trailed and she looked serious all of a sudden. “Promise me something?”
Joley nodded uncertainly. “Okay.”
Lynette drew in a sharp breath. “Don’t let Marshall be alone.”
When she realized what Lynette was saying, Joley shook her head. “I don’t really think—”
“When I’m gone, promise me you and Nate will make sure he’s okay. I don’t want him to be alone. I don’t want him to waste time on grief. I want him to marry again. To love again.”
It was a huge promise, and one Joley wasn’t sure she could undertake. “I might not be here,” she said and was struck by a heavy pain when she realized that could be true, and more pain, when she acknowledged that her new friend may not be around.
“You’re not staying?”
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