by Mia Ross
He’d sent her Ridge.
His steadfast support encouraged her to take chances, to stand up for herself, when not long ago she’d have done everything in her power to avoid a direct confrontation with her ex-husband. She owed Ridge so much, she didn’t know how she’d ever repay his kindness.
“Thank you for the books.”
The words came out so faintly, she felt ridiculous. She was a grown woman with two children, for goodness sakes. Why did she suddenly feel like a wallflower who’d been asked to the prom?
His hands full of grease from the gear assembly he was holding, Ridge just smiled. The sunlight accented the gold in his eyes, and his tanned face flooded with relief. Obviously, he’d been as uncertain about his gift as she was.
“It was an incredibly thoughtful thing to do,” she continued with a smile of her own. “What made you think of it?”
He set down the grimy tool and wiped his hands on a cloth that was only slightly cleaner. “Well, I was talking with Lisa and she mentioned that your set got ruined. Grandpa knows this rare book dealer in London, so I called him up. He just happened to have them.”
“Signed by Louisa herself. They must be worth a fortune.”
Ridge shrugged, and she rested a hand on his shoulder. Broad and strong, those shoulders had taken on some of her worrisome burdens without her even noticing. When his eyes met hers, she felt an undeniable tug on her heart. It had happened a few times when she was with him, but she’d always ignored it.
This time, she didn’t.
“You know what those books mean to me,” she said. “How?”
“Your father gave them to you, and some careless idiot ruined them. When I heard about it, I got pretty mad. You must have felt even worse.”
“And you wanted to make me feel better. That’s just about the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”
His gaze warmed, and he moved in closer. “I can be sweet.”
“Really?” Deciding she’d enjoy the game he’d invited her to play, she gave him a mock frown. “I’ll need some proof.”
Leaning in, he brushed his lips over hers, giving her plenty of room to pull away. Instead, she moved closer, relishing the solid feel of him.
“I’m filthy,” he murmured against her cheek.
“I don’t care.”
The moment Ridge took her in his arms, every last doubt she had about him simply melted away. Standing on that grungy tarp, wrapped up in the warmth of him, she thanked God for dropping this amazing man into her life.
* * *
It was the best money he’d ever spent.
To see that delighted look on Marianne’s face again, Ridge knew he would do anything. That evening, Matt and John quit uncharacteristically early, and Caty and Lisa joined them for supper. They drove out to the farm together, loaded down with steaks and four different kinds of shish kebobs.
While the kids splashed around in the pond with Caty, the guys fired up the enormous grill and got to work. Lisa and Marianne pegged bright red-and-white-checked cloths onto the longest picnic table and hung an electric bug zapper nearby. Tucker hated the thing, and he ran circles around it, barking every time it sizzled. With a mustard-colored harvest moon hanging low in the sky, it was the perfect fall evening.
Through the wonders of feminine coordination, all the food was ready at once. Everyone settled at the table, making sure to keep the meat platters in the middle where Tucker couldn’t reach them. He could smell them, though, and his nose twitched approvingly as he sniffed the air.
“All right, Tucker, lie down,” Marianne ordered, pointing behind the kids’ bench with her salad tongs.
He gave her a pitiful look, and she repeated her command more firmly. Heaving a canine sigh, he dropped down and settled his chin on his paws. While Marianne was preoccupied cutting up Emily’s steak, Ridge snuck a piece of rib eye to the pathetic Lab. Kyle gave him a look, and Ridge winked back. The kid grinned and continued his story about the field trip their class had taken to the local aquarium that day.
It was one of those moments lots of people had every day. The kind that flashed by so fast, they were easy to miss. But for someone like Ridge, they didn’t come around very often. To him, this evening was priceless.
“I saw that,” Marianne informed him as she began cutting up her own meat. “You’re going to turn him into a beggar.”
“Aw, he’s a good dog.” Ridge chopped his steak knife through his corn on the cob and tossed half of it to Tucker. “We all need a little treat once in a while.”
Trying to look casual, he gave her a quick grin. When she blushed and looked away, he knew he’d made his point. They took their time over supper, filling and refilling plates, polishing off several gallons of sweet tea and lemonade. Even after the food had been cleared away, they lingered, talking and laughing.
“Y’know,” Ridge said at one point, “the last time I had this much fun was your Fourth of July picnic. Before that, I honestly can’t remember.”
“Oh, Ridge.” Emily patted his hand in her endearing way. “When you want to have fun, you should come here. We love you.”
“You’re just like a Sawyer,” Kyle agreed.
From his seat at the end of the table, Matt said, “I always thought so.”
As the others chimed in with similar comments, it struck Ridge that his untamable old buddy was the head of this warm, chaotic family. Matt had found his place—and his peace—in the last spot he’d probably expected. That they’d accepted Ridge as one of their own gave him the same feeling he’d gotten in church that first Sunday.
Harland was a place where he could belong.
He could quit roaming around and come in for a landing, right here in this town filled with friendly, welcoming people. There were apartments in town he could rent, and he’d be around to help out at the farm if they needed him. He’d always love flying, but it would be nice to have somewhere to come back to.
The only thing that could make it better would be to have a family waiting for him when he got there.
During all this, Marianne was unusually quiet. She was pushing peppers and tomatoes around her plate with her fork, completely withdrawn from the lively discussion. After their brief but heartfelt exchange that afternoon, her attitude concerned him. Having been so thoroughly betrayed in the past, she was understandably hesitant to embrace him completely.
But he wasn’t giving up on her. Not by a long shot.
“Thanks, guys,” he said when they left him an opening. “That’s pretty cool.”
“You’re pretty cool,” Kyle told him. Emily, whose mouth was full of watermelon, nodded her agreement.
Ridge didn’t know how to respond to that. It wasn’t every day a big, loving family basically adopted you, and he didn’t have words for how great it made him feel.
Fortunately, Tucker chose that moment to forget all the manners he’d ever learned. He ripped the cloth from the table with his teeth and took off with it, scattering food everywhere. With everyone laughing and chasing after him, it was the perfect end to a Sawyer family meal.
* * *
When they pulled in at football practice on Friday, Peter’s Jag was already in the parking lot.
“What’s he doing here?” Ridge muttered to Marianne.
Giving him a warning look, she looked in the rearview mirror. “Kyle, did you invite your father to watch you practice?”
“Nope.”
Since he sounded totally unconcerned, she tamped down her own annoyance and forced cheerfulness into her tone. “Well, it was nice of him to come.”
“I guess,” her son muttered.
They all piled out of the van, and Emily took off like a shot to join the cheerleaders while Marianne set up her command post. When everything was in its place, she unfolded the extra-comfy portable
papasan chair she’d splurged on. It would make sitting on the sidelines day after day much more pleasant.
Peter was in the stands today, head down as he thumbed away on his phone. When he glanced up and saw them, he raised a hand in greeting. Kyle returned the gesture before joining the game of keepaway that was already in progress. Ridge gave Marianne a look that clearly said “whatever,” and headed for the bench.
Realizing that there was no way to make Peter go away, she settled down to grade papers. With her own schoolwork taking so much of her time, she used practices to stay on top of her teaching responsibilities. Today she was going through her students’ handwriting assignments. A few were excellent, but most needed various suggestions for improvement. As she was working her way through the pile, her phone signaled a text message. Expecting it to be from Ridge, she frowned when the caller I.D. came up blank—dinner tonight? it said.
Anyone from Harland would call it “supper,” and that clued her in to the sender. Marianne groaned out loud. Wasn’t it bad enough that Peter had invaded her home and shanghaied Kyle’s precious free time? Now he wanted to have a meal with her. She recognized the invitation for what it was: manipulation. He had something to discuss with her, and he wanted to take away any advantage she might gain by having him on her home turf. He was texting so he didn’t have to face her. Coward.
Deciding to yank his designer chain a little, she typed: who is this?
peter.
busy. come talk now.
When he suggested a different night, she ignored the message and got back to work. She wasn’t surprised when he appeared in front of her a few minutes later. It had rained earlier, and she was just annoyed enough to be pleased that he’d gotten mud on his shiny, tasseled loafers.
“What do you want, Peter?” she asked without looking up.
After a brief hesitation, he said, “I need to talk to you about Kyle.”
“What about him?”
“Please look at me when I’m speaking to you.”
Despite the polite phrasing, there was a commanding tone beneath the words that made Marianne long to do the exact opposite. Making him feel invisible might work for her, but it would only anger him, and then he’d make a scene. That would embarrass Kyle in front of his friends, which was the last thing she wanted.
Marking her place with her pen, Marianne looked up at him. “What about him?”
“I’m returning to Washington tomorrow morning, and I’d like to take him home with me.”
Her back stiffened, and it was all she could do to stay calmly in her seat. “Not in this lifetime.”
“Just for the weekend,” he persisted, suddenly oozing charm. He hunkered down next to her chair and gave her a deceptively pleasant smile. “I think he’d love to see all the monuments and the Smithsonian, and the Redskins are playing on Sunday. He’d get a firsthand look at what real football is like.”
“This is real football,” she argued, motioning out to the field. “Their championship game is on Sunday. They need him.”
“It’s peewee football,” he scoffed. “No one will miss him.”
“Everyone would,” Marianne argued. “Besides that, if you asked him, he’d say no. When he signed up, he committed to playing with his team at every practice and every game. He understands how important it is to keep his promises.”
Peter’s dark eyes glittered with something akin to approval. “Was that a dig?”
“Yes.”
“Impressive.” His thin-lipped smile made her think of a lizard. “You never used to do that, even when I deserved it.”
“You can’t charm me into agreeing to this trip,” she shot back, eyes narrowed. “I said you could visit with Kyle at the farm. Don’t push for more.”
“A boy needs a father, don’t you think?”
She unleashed the long, hard stare that still made her brothers squirm. “If that father is you, then no.”
Clearly offended, which was her intent, Peter uncoiled and stood to look down at her once again. “You should reconsider your position on this. You’ll regret making trouble with me.”
“If you don’t back off, you’re gonna regret making it with me.”
As usual, she hadn’t heard Ridge approaching, but Marianne was delighted to hear his strong, I-mean-business voice. The light touch of his hand on her shoulder was so reassuring, she actually smiled at her ex-husband. “Goodbye, Peter. Have a good trip back to Washington.”
Obviously furious at being outmaneuvered, he pointed a threatening finger at her. “This isn’t over, Marianne. You can’t keep me from my own son.”
No, but I can keep him from you.
Those defiant words were on the tip of her tongue, but she held back. She didn’t want to say anything Peter could use against her later. Things between them had already deteriorated to a dangerous level, and she had a sinking feeling it wouldn’t take much to make them worse.
“Would having him visit me once in a while really be so bad?” Peter asked in a wheedling tone she knew was designed to insult her intelligence. “I mean, you’d still have Emily.”
“They’re not a set of chairs,” she pointed out, trying to keep her voice down. “They love each other, and they’re used to being together. You can’t split them up just because it happens to work for you.”
She didn’t dare mention her own feelings on the matter. She’d sooner rip off her arm than let Kyle go anywhere with his selfish, unpredictable father. It wasn’t Peter’s style to stop with simple overnight visits. If she gave in now, he’d railroad her into who knew what. Over the years, she’d come to realize that she’d never really understood him. That impression had grown exponentially in the last five minutes.
“That’s your final word on this?” he taunted.
“Yes, it is.”
His expression hardened. “Fine.”
The curt response told her it was anything but fine, though she decided it was wise not to pursue it further now. They’d discuss it again, she was certain. Probably more than once before he eventually got the message that she wasn’t changing her mind.
With a final glare at her and Ridge, Peter turned on his heel and stalked toward his car. Over his shoulder, he tossed the exact words she’d been dreading since he first showed up in Harland.
“You’ll be hearing from my attorney.”
After his car disappeared in a cloud of dust, Ridge leaned down to kiss the top of her head. “The kids and I can catch a ride home with Charlie. I think you’d better go see Caty.”
Chapter Ten
It sure was handy having a lawyer in the family.
The thought popped into Marianne’s head several times while she gave Caty the gist of every discussion she’d had with Peter during the last week. Always calm and reassuring, her sister-in-law listened carefully, asking a question here and there while she took notes. The rest of the house’s interior was still in various stages of completion, but Matt had made sure Caty’s office was the first room finished. He’d hung the heavy, soundproof door himself.
She and Marianne sat in comfortable chairs on opposite sides of an antique table that held their untouched tea and some of Ruthy’s shortbread cookies. When Marianne was done speaking, Caty sat back with a frown.
“I’m not a custody expert, but this doesn’t sound good to me. You said Peter’s brother will represent him in court?”
“Nick,” Marianne clarified with a resigned nod. “He represented Peter during our divorce, which was the main reason I gave up on getting anything. Peter has a top-notch trial attorney who works for free. The only ones I found wanted way more than I could afford,” she added in a wry tone.
Caty smiled and made another note. “My friend Jen in Charlotte handles tricky cases like this. She got into custody law because her parents’ divorce split u
p her and her brothers.”
“Do you trust her?”
Caty fixed her with a somber look. “Implicitly. I’d love to help you, but I know very little about this kind of law. Jen’s the one you need. With you and Peter living in different states, it could get complicated.”
“I don’t care about the money he owes me,” Marianne insisted. “But I’m not sharing custody with a man who abandoned his own children.”
“Of course not. I’m just saying that I don’t know if or how Peter’s being in DC affects your case. Jen will.”
“My case.” Marianne got light-headed as the words buzzed in her ears. After a couple of deep breaths, the feeling passed, but her anxiety kicked up another notch. “If Nick pulls some strings and gets him the right judge, Peter could win some kind of joint custody, couldn’t he?”
“I wish I could reassure you, but the truth is I don’t know. This kind of law is beyond me.”
“Kyle barely tolerates Peter as it is,” Marianne continued. “I can’t imagine how he’ll react if he’s forced to spend time with his father on a regular basis.”
Actually, she could, and none of the scenarios ended well. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she fought to keep them contained. She never cried because tears didn’t solve anything. But now, years of worry rushed to the surface, and she was having a tough time keeping it together.
“Marianne, look at me.”
Caty’s firm but sympathetic tone got through, and she met Marianne’s look of horror with a smile. “Stop trying to guess what’s going to happen and call Jen. She won’t charge you for a consultation, and she’ll know what to do.”
“I know from before how expensive this will be, and I don’t have enough to pay her fees,” Marianne confessed. “The money Dad left the kids is in trust, and I want them to have it when they’re older. Other than that, all I have is the house.”
“She’s my friend, and we’re family. We’ll work something out.”
Accustomed to handling problems on her own, Marianne resisted what Caty was implying. She didn’t want a handout from anyone, not even her big brother and his wife. There had been many days when she’d looked in the mirror and realized that the only thing she still possessed was her pride. If she lost that, what would she have left?