“I wasn’t confident, I was mean,” Isabel replied quietly. “I used people. I thought I was better than others. You don’t want your daughter to be like I was. Raise her to be like you, and to be proud of who she is.”
Isabel looked around the room. This was no longer her childhood home—it would be another little girl’s childhood home. Her sister would grow up a new breed of Baxter—a kinder generation of women who were tough enough to succeed on their own, and confident enough to retract the claws.
She didn’t want to live her life on a pedestal anymore. She knew exactly what she needed to do. She pulled out her cell phone and typed in a text: James, would you meet me at the diner at 8? I have some business to discuss.
* * *
JAMES SAT IN a back booth of the diner, a ceramic mug of coffee in front of him, two empty creamer packets lying on the table. He glanced out the window into the twilit evening, his own haggard reflection clearer than the outdoors. He looked rough—he felt rougher. Somehow, this business arrangement had gotten very personal.
What was it with Isabel and her clandestine meetings? Not that he minded. He missed her. He’d felt a hollow ache inside ever since their talk last night, and while he knew that she couldn’t be the woman for him, he still longed for her. She’d inherited her father’s penchant for odd hours, and he’d shared his cousin’s ability to fall for the one woman capable of breaking his heart.
But he couldn’t blame Isabel for this—he’d done it to himself. She hadn’t lured him in, or manipulated anything—she’d just been a bare, honest version of herself, and that was all it had taken.
The door to the diner opened, and the bell overhead tinkled. He glanced over his shoulder to see Isabel coming in. She wore a pair of blue jeans and a billowy pink blouse that brought out the rosiness in her cheeks. She had a manila envelope under one arm, and when she spotted James, she moved in his direction.
“Hi.” James stood and kissed her cheek before they both sat down. He’d have to stop that—the physical contact—but he couldn’t help himself one last time.
“Thanks for meeting up,” she said, and a smile tickled the corner of her lips. “I was halfway here before I realized that ordinary people don’t do their business after hours...or have their lawyer’s personal phone number.”
He chuckled. “Baxter to the core. It’s okay. What can I do for you?”
She placed the envelope on the table and pushed it toward him. “This is the deed to the house your sister is living in.”
James raised an eyebrow. “Is there a problem? I checked for liens or anything like that. You should be in the clear.”
“I want to sign it over to Jenny.”
James stared at her. “You what?”
“I’m serious, James.” The smile dropped from her lips. “I want to sign this house over to Jenny.”
“That’s a very bad idea,” he countered. “I told your father—”
“My father is gone!” Her voice trembled. “I know what he was doing when he gave me that house, James. He was setting me up like a Baxter, giving me some clout, raising me just a little higher to give me that leg up—” her voice softened “—over you.”
“Isabel, you don’t need to sign away your property for me,” he said.
“Who said this is for you?” she demanded. “This is for me. My dad raised a shark, and I don’t want to be that woman anymore. I’ve chosen a different life, and I might not ever be ordinary—I’m okay with that. But I can’t be a shark.”
“Izzy...”
“No.” She pushed the envelope closer to him. “I want Jenny to have that stability. I know you think you’re the only one who cares about her future and her happiness, but you aren’t. I care, too. I’d love for her to keep working with me, but if she loses interest or decides she wants to do something else, I don’t want her to feel like she has to keep working at my shop in order to please me. I want that house in her name—no strings attached. The thing is, I’ve figured out why my dad took Jenny under his wing like that—it was in honor of my brother. My dad really cared about Jenny, and so do I.”
“But it’s all you got from your dad,” he said.
“No, it isn’t,” she countered. “I got the seed money for my business, a Yale education and the Baxter genes that thrive on that entrepreneurial challenge. I’m going to be just fine. I can build this business, and I can build others after it if I need to. I’ve got that tiny house of mine, and it suits me to a T. I’m not suffering in the least, James. Now, are you going to do the legal part of this, or do I have to go find that baby-faced lawyer?”
James shook his head. She wasn’t going to listen to him, and he suspected that if he turned her down, she’d do just what she threatened and find Eugene. “Why are you so stubborn?”
“I’m a Baxter.” She grinned. “And I’m tired of the pedestal. I’m going to earn what I get, and I’ll deserve it when I get there. But I’m starting out on a level playing field, and with a clear conscience.”
“You don’t owe us anything,” James reminded her.
“I owe myself,” she said, and he could hear the emotion in her voice. “Will you take care of this?”
“Yeah...” He reached out and put his hand over hers. She turned her palm over, intertwining her cool fingers with his. His heart pounded in his chest, and he swallowed hard. She was giving it up—the power, the house, any hold she might have over him and Jenny. She was giving it away. Shoulder to shoulder... wasn’t that what he wanted?
She pulled her hand out of his and wiped the tear away. “I’d better go.”
“Izzy, wait—” He couldn’t leave it like this, couldn’t let her walk away. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t fair to you. I was afraid that you’d be the kind of woman who would resent how much I have to do in order to take care of my sister. But I was wrong about you.”
“Very wrong.” A small smile came to her lips. “And I like to hear you say it.”
“That I’m wrong?” He laughed softly. “Well, there you have it.”
“Thank you.” Her gaze softened. “It means a lot to hear that from you.”
James scooped up her hand in his and tugged her closer. She didn’t resist, and she stood so close that he could rest his forehead against hers.
“I don’t come from money,” he said quietly. “I’m not a powerful man who can rescue you and give you everything your heart desires. I can’t promise you an easy life, but I’m asking—” He swallowed. “I’m asking you to stand by my side, to face the world with me. I’m asking you to be the woman who makes me stronger, the woman who keeps me honest with myself.”
“A life with you?” she asked softly.
“Yeah.” He moved a tendril of hair away from her face, and she looked up at him. “Would you take care of Jenny with me? Would you build a life with me? Maybe have a few kids with me, too?”
“I’d help take care of Jenny even if you didn’t want me,” she whispered.
“Want you?” he asked. “Isabel Baxter, I want to marry you.”
She nodded, and he felt a weight lift off his chest. Had she really agreed? He hadn’t been sure he’d ask until the words came out of his mouth, and once they did he knew he wanted this more than anything else in the world. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes, James,” she said, moving into his arms. “I’ll marry you.”
James pulled her against him, sliding his arms around her slender waist, and dipped his head down, catching her lips w
ith his. She felt warm in his hands and tasted sweet on his lips. Her breath tickled his face, and when he finally pulled back, her eyes were glittering again.
Around them, three waitresses and a couple of truckers broke into a spattering of applause.
“The ring won’t be what you’re used to—” he began, and she put a finger on his lips, silencing him.
“The ring will be perfect,” she said. “And the wedding will be small, and the honeymoon—”
“Will be very sweet,” he said with a low laugh.
“Actually, I was going to say that it’ll have to be quite short, because with the store just opened, and—”
James laughed and smothered the last of her words with a kiss. She melted into his arms and sighed softly against his lips.
“Baxter to the core,” he murmured lovingly. “We’ll sort it out together.”
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from HIS BEST FRIEND’S WIFE by Lee McKenzie.
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His Best Friend's Wife
by Lee McKenzie
CHAPTER ONE
THE RIVERTON HEALTH Center was one of Annie Finnegan Larsen’s least favorite places in the world. A world that was admittedly small and familiar and filled with the people and places she loved. But this place was the exception. Bad things happened here. The only place she disliked more than here was the cemetery.
“I’ll need to see your insurance card.” The triage nurse had yet to look away from her keyboard.
Maintaining her outward composure, Annie plucked the card from her wallet and passed it across the counter. What were the odds that she would come to the clinic in a town where she knew everyone and encounter a nurse she’d never seen before? Anyone who knew her and her circumstances would be rushing to offer comfort and support, but not this young woman. She was fixated on her computer screen.
“Do you still live on River Road?” she asked.
Annie took a deep breath. “At Finnegan Farm, yes. I’ve never lived anywhere else. I’m here with my son,” she said. “He fell off a horse this morning. He could have broken bones, a head injury. He needs to see a doctor. Could we please look after the paperwork later?” She wished she had it in her to be forceful, or at least impatient. Instead, she was polite. Too polite for her own good.
Still, something in the sound of her voice must have caught the woman’s attention because she finally made eye contact and glanced around her computer monitor at Annie’s seven-year-old son. Then she swung her gaze to Annie, brows arched, eyes brimming with judgment.
“Mom, where’s Auntie CJ?” Isaac asked, ducking out from under the protective arm she had around his shoulders.
“She’s parking the truck, honey. Keep still, okay? The doctor’s going to see you right away.”
Besides, CJ was more problem than solution. Annie had let her sister convince her that Isaac was ready for junior rodeo, and clearly he wasn’t.
“I don’t want to see the doctor. I want Auntie CJ to take us home.”
“I’m right here, kiddo. How’re you holding up?” CJ, still dressed in full riding habit, minus the helmet, breezed through the double glass doors.
“We’re doing paperwork.” Annie prided herself in always keeping her cool and having a tight rein on her emotions, no matter what the circumstances. Why couldn’t she be assertive, more demanding? If she had those skills, then maybe she wouldn’t have failed her husband. Eric would still be alive and Isaac would still have a father. She had tried to convince Eric that he needed to see a doctor, to find out why he was in so much pain. She should have insisted. No, demanded. Instead, she had taken a step back and let him do the typical guy thing and soldier through the pain.
CJ slung an arm around Annie’s shoulder and led her and Isaac to the row of black leatherette chairs that lined two walls of the small waiting room. “Sit. I’ll handle this. We’ll have Isaac in to see the doc before you know it.”
“He should be in there already. He could be—”
“Annie, I’ve got it. Sit, relax. Okay, I know you’re not going to relax, but at least try to chill for a couple of minutes. Isaac’s fine. Look at him. He’s fine.”
Annie sat, guiding her son into the seat beside her, resisting the urge to pull her little boy onto her lap. Common sense told her that he was all right—he was walking and talking and insisting he wanted to carry on with his riding lesson—but what if he wasn’t? He was her son, her only child, and he was so little and so special and he didn’t have a father.
She tried to listen in as CJ spoke to the admitting clerk, then realized that her sister was deliberately keeping her voice low so Annie couldn’t hear. She was probably telling the woman that Annie was the one who needed medical attention.
Annie focused on the double doors that led to the ER, willing them to open and a nurse, or better yet, a doctor, to appear. She hadn’t set foot in this place in months, not since rushing her husband here with scarcely time to watch him take his last breath. Now she was here with her son, her precious boy and her only remaining link to Eric. Falling off a horse was not good. She should never have agreed to riding lessons, even though CJ was the teacher, and an excellent one at that. But Annie was his mother and it was her job to keep him safe. Given that this little daredevil was so much like his father, she had her work cut out for her.
CJ took the chair next to them, gently ruffled Isaac’s already unruly blond curls. “It’ll just be a few minutes. How do you feel?”
“I wanna go home and go back to the stable.”
Annie met CJ’s questioning gaze. “We’ll talk about that later, after—”
Stacey McGregor emerged from an office behind the front desk. “Annie, Isaac. Hi.”
Annie was instantly reassured by the familiar voice and the woman’s brisk efficiency.
“What’s this I hear about someone falling off a horse?”
“That was me!” Isaac said before Annie could respond, bouncing up from his chair. “I’m learning barrel racing ’cause I want to be in the junior rodeo.”
“CJ’s giving him lessons,” Annie said, gently pulling her son back into the chair. She and Stacey had graduated from high school together. She was an excellent nurse and great with kids, having three of her own.
Stacey kneeled in front of Isaac a
nd attempted to smooth his unruly curls. “Horseback riding? I’ll bet you want to be a cowboy when you grow up.”
“Yup. I’m gonna have a hat and a lasso and everything.”
“I’ll just bet you will.” Stacey shifted her smile from Isaac to Annie. “A blue-eyed heartbreaker of a cowboy, that’s what he’s going to be.”
Isaac giggled, and Stacey stood and took his hand. “Come with me. I’ll take you and your mom in to see Dr. Woodward.”
“Oh. He’s still seeing patients?” Annie asked. She’d heard that Riverton’s long-time family physician had recently been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Heartbreaking news, but surely he wasn’t still practicing medicine?
“Sorry, I guess you haven’t heard. Not Doc Woodward Senior. His son.”
“Paul? He’s back in Riverton?” Annie followed Stacey into an examining room, simultaneously reassured to hear her husband’s best friend was in town and here to look after Isaac, and a tiny bit disappointed he hadn’t called to let her know he was home. She had always liked and admired Paul. It would have been good to hear from him. Keeping in touch with Eric’s past made her feel more connected to him. Although Paul had been away from Riverton for years, he was an important part of that past. She wondered if he knew that Jack Evans, her husband’s other best friend, was also in Riverton and about to marry Annie’s other sister, Emily.
“He dropped in to the clinic yesterday, just briefly, on his way into town.” Stacey tucked Isaac’s chart into the plastic holder on the door. “Today is his first shift.”
Okay, that explained why he hadn’t called. He probably hadn’t even unpacked.
“Can Auntie CJ come, too?” Isaac pleaded.
“Of course she can.” Stacey beckoned her to follow. “How’s everything out at Finnegan Farm?”
“Everything’s great,” CJ said. “Busy. My summer riding camp is winding down. We’re boarding two new horses, and I just took in a rescue horse from a farm near Pepin. What about you?”
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