Prince Charming Can Wait (Ever After)

by Stephanie Rowe

  Restlessness itched at him, a desire to find out Emma's secrets. For a moment, he considered emailing her, using the address he'd poached from her phone while she'd been sleeping, but he immediately shut down the idea.

  Ongoing contact wasn't part of the deal, and he wouldn't change the terms of their agreement. It had been one night, one connection, no ongoing chains holding them both back.

  It was what it was.

  "Miss me, gorgeous?"

  Harlan looked up to see Blue standing beside him. He was wearing a loose khaki shirt, spiffy white pants, polished black shoes, and a Rolex. His blond hair was slicked back, and his blue eyes were hidden behind a pair of gold-rimmed sunglasses. He was ready to play his part. "You look like a pimp," Harlan observed.

  "I'm a suave playboy. There's a difference—" Blue cut himself off, staring at Harlan's wrist. "A tat? You don't do tats. Ever. You'd shoot anyone who got within ten feet of you with a needle."

  Harlan looked down at the mark he'd just finished getting inked on the underside of his wrist. "Yeah, well, I made an exception."

  Whistling in taunting admiration, Blue raised his sunglasses to inspect it. "What is it?"

  Harlan brushed his hand over the design. It was less than an inch big, but etched permanently into his flesh. "It's an 'E' with a yellow rose."

  "No shit." Blue raised his brows. "Why?"

  "So I don't forget." He pushed back from the bar and pulled his hat down over his head. "Come on, let's go. Time to get dirty."

  Chapter Seven

  Emma was whistling as she pulled into the driveway of the old Possum Farm later that morning. The huge wooden doors of the barn were flung wide open, and there was lots of activity inside as people worked on their floats for the festival's parade.

  It was tradition for the Possum Farm barn to be used as a staging area, and the only people allowed inside were those actually working on the floats. Everyone else in town had to be surprised. Emma had not been in the mood to decorate when Clare had asked her to help update the float for Wright's, but Clare had begged her to paint the scenery to do justice to the store and Clare's cupcake business.

  For the last few years, thrusting herself into the merriment of family time had been hard, and now that Clare and Astrid were being helped by their husbands, kids, and step kids, it was even more challenging to make herself participate. But today, it felt different. Not that she was going to tell them that she and Harlan had gotten married, of course, but she didn't need to declare it to the world in order for her to feel good. The private knowledge was enough to galvanize her. The knowledge that Chloe was making calls about Mattie, and the lovely memory of how Harlan had shown her she wasn't entirely dead as a woman were enough to make her feel like the world was a brighter place than it had been only the day before. She didn't need to announce it to everyone to make it real for herself.

  And as for that good emotional place that Chloe had wished her luck reaching? Emma was already there. Everything was working out just right.

  She loaded painting supplies into a wheelbarrow at the edge of the driveway, and cheerfully wheeled it into the barn. The Wright's float was at the back, and she could see Clare and Astrid arguing good naturedly with Clare's daughter, Katie, and her stepdaughter, Brooke, with animated hand gestures. Artistic differences no doubt, which Emma would raise to new heights as the only actual paint artist in the group. Clare's cupcakes were works of art, as were Astrid's jewelry pieces, but when it came to paintbrushes, Emma was the one with the goods. "Hi, guys," Emma called out. "What's going—"

  "Hi Emma!" To her horror, from behind a massive cardboard structure of a pig walked Iris. "How's my newlywed? Did you and Harlan have a good night last evening after your wedding? Your love inspired us, and Ned and I had a lovely time as well—" She winked at Emma, then hurried on, shouting at someone not to break the plastic dandelion.

  With a sinking feeling, Emma looked ahead, and to her horror, Astrid, Clare, and the two teen girls were staring at her with shocked looks on their faces. Had they heard? Maybe not. Maybe they were just surprised by the fact she was actually socializing with people. "Um... Hi?" She began wheeling the cart toward the float, trying to force her face into a casual grin as she walked past a stall occupied by a massive gray horse. "So, I brought all my stuff. I was thinking of painting a giant cupcake, a pink one, blended in with a drawing of Wright's—"

  "Tell me I heard wrong," Astrid interrupted, her auburn hair cascading wildly around her shoulders, her eyes flashing. "Tell me I didn't hear what I think I heard."

  Emma cleared her throat. "What—"

  "You and Harlan got married?" Astrid still looked shocked.

  Emma cleared her throat and peeked nervously at Clare, who was staring at her. "It was a convenience marriage," she said quickly, keeping her voice low, knowing that she had to keep up the pretense for the town. In order for her to have a chance with Mattie, a social worker would have to visit and interview people, and her marriage to Harlan had to sound legit. "He needed it for his work, and I—"

  "You got married!" Clare shrieked. She threw aside the pot of pansies she'd been holding, sprinted across the barn, and lunged at Emma, sweeping her up in a huge hug. "I can't believe it. You and Harlan got married!"

  Clare's shriek ricocheted through the barn, and suddenly Emma found herself the center of a thousand questions and jostling gossipers. The only one who hadn't joined them was Astrid, who was still standing back from the crowd staring at her. Emma managed to accept the boisterous congratulations, but her heart was sinking as she watched Astrid retreat. The assault of well-wishers was exhausting, as was the barrage of questions about a romance that no one else had known about—for obvious reasons. Once the rumor was confirmed, the discussion quickly shifted into self-congratulations for all the people who had apparently guessed that there was a hot romance brewing beneath the surface, and predicted that a marriage was on the way. A surprising number of people seemed to have been dead certain that Emma and Harlan had been dating secretly for two years, given that their first kiss had been a mere thirty six hours ago.

  Emma felt her heart ache as she watched Astrid turn away and begin working on the float, but it took almost a half hour before the crowd finally retreated to their projects, still shouting congratulations. Cell phones were out, and Emma knew the whole town would know within the hour. It was what she'd wanted, but at the same time, she felt distinctly uncomfortable lying to the people she'd known her whole life, even if it was for Mattie.

  Once she had space, Emma hurried up to Astrid, needing the support of both her friends. "Hey."

  Astrid didn't look up from hammering two pieces of plywood together.

  Emma touched her arm. "Astrid? Can we talk?"

  Astrid finally looked up, and there was raw betrayal in her eyes. "I don't understand. What happened? Do you even love him? He deserves that, you know. He's a good man."

  Her heart tightened at the question. "Oh, Astrid, it wasn't like that—"

  "It wasn't like that? Really?" Astrid clenched the hammer in her fist. "He saved me from the hospital. He gave me a home. He was the only thing I had to keep me going when things were so bad. He might be a loner, but he's my brother, and he deserves someone who will love him. How dare you marry him if you don't love him?"

  Emma felt her cheeks heat up. "He doesn't love me either—"

  "Of course he does. Harlan would never get married unless there was no other choice for him, unless it was driving him so intensely that it would never let him go." Astrid stood up. "I understand you've been through hell, Emma. I really do. But that doesn't justify playing with my brother like this. I don't care what reason you had, or what reason you think he has, but it's absolute crap that you would marry him and not love him."

  "But—"

  "Isn't that what Preston did to you?" Astrid accused, her brown eyes flashing with anger. "Isn't that what broke you, because the man you loved didn't love you back?"

  Emma stared at he
r, shocked by the comparison. How could Astrid compare what she'd done to what Preston had done? "That was different—"

  "Not so different." Astrid threw down the hammer. "Where is Harlan? Did you move in with him? I need to talk to him."

  Dread hit Emma. He hadn't told Astrid he was leaving? He'd left it to her? Resentment burned through her for the fact he'd left her in this position, that he'd forced her to defend herself against the woman who was one of her only friends. "He left."

  Already halfway to the door, Astrid stopped and turned back. "Left where?"

  "Birch Crossing. He's on another mi—" She stopped, realizing that Astrid didn't know he went on missions. Until last night, no one in Birch Crossing had known where Harlan went when he disappeared. And now, only she knew. "He left again. He isn't coming back...for a long time."

  "What?" Astrid looked devastated now. "He married you and then left? What did you do to him?"

  Emma stiffened. "I didn't do anything to him. He was already going to leave. He came back to tell you, but he didn't want to interfere with your happiness."

  "My happiness?" Astrid strode over to her, her face furious. "My happiness is my family. Harlan is part of that. You know that. How could you not tell him to talk to me? How could you let him leave without saying good-bye? You knew that I would want to see him."

  As Emma stared into Astrid's furious face, she realized with a sinking feeling that she did know that. Of course, Astrid could handle Harlan's life. Astrid had been through plenty of grueling things in her life, and she didn't hide from anything tough. But it hadn't even occurred to Emma to encourage Harlan to open up to Astrid. Had she really been thinking about herself the whole time, her need for how he made her feel, her desire to matter to someone, to him? Guilt churned in her belly, an aching emptiness. "I'm sorry."

  "Sorry isn't enough," Astrid snapped. "What's his phone number? His old one got disconnected. I'm going to call him."

  "His phone number?" Emma repeated, an ache settling numbly in her chest as she realized the truth. "He didn't give me his phone number."

  Astrid raised her eyebrows. "How about an email address that he actually reads?"

  Emma shook her head, wordlessly, her cheeks flaming. She felt like such an idiot, having to admit she had no way to contact her own husband.

  Astrid walked over to her. "So, let me get this straight. In the middle of last night on some whim, you and Harlan got married. Then he took off in the morning without even telling his own sister, and he left you no way to get in touch with him? Not even in an emergency?"

  Emma felt heat rise in her cheeks. "Yes, that describes it quite well," she said softly, a gruesome weight settling in her. What had seemed so brilliant this morning suddenly felt like a joke. She didn't know who had been the butt of the joke, her or Harlan. Or both of them?

  "Wow. For a woman who had sworn off men, you really did a great job getting back into the game."

  "Hey." Clare walked up, a streak of pink paint across her forehead. "Astrid, come back to the float and help. I think we all need to talk about this—"

  Astrid's eyes were blazing. "I don't think so. I need to find a way to get in touch with my brother." Then she turned and walked out, her shoulders stiff and her gait rigid as she ignored all the congratulations from the townspeople, wishing her brother good luck on his excellent marriage.

  Emma bit her lip as she watched Astrid leave. "Should I go after her?"

  "No." Clare put her arm around Emma's shoulder. "She needs space. Right now, she won't hear anything you say."

  Dismay flooded Emma, and she turned back toward the float. Suddenly, the garish colors and bright glitter seemed obnoxious and rude, not cheerful and fun. "I think I'm going to skip out. I don't think I can do this—"

  Clare put a paintbrush in her hand. "You have to. You just drove off one of my helpers, and I can only use certain paints." She patted her belly and winked at Emma.

  Emma stared at her for a long moment as gradual understanding began to dawn. "Are you…pregnant?"

  "Ssh!" Clare waved her into silence. "We're not telling anyone yet, but I wanted you to know. I'm only two months along."

  The most amazing sense of wonder flooded her, chased ruthlessly by an envy and isolation so deep that she almost couldn't breathe. Emma was thrilled for her friend, she really was, but at the same time, it left an aching sense of loneliness inside her. "Congratulations." Emma hugged her, holding Clare so tightly, even as she felt her friend sliding out of her life. A new baby, a new husband, and a new business…what space would be left for Emma? She managed a smile, even though tears were burning in the back of her eyes. Tears of joy for her dear friend who had suffered so much, and tears of sadness for what it would mean for them, and for the way it made her look at her own, empty life. "I'm so happy for you guys. That is fantastic news."

  Clare beamed at her. "Thanks." She nodded at her daughter, who was hitting up some teen boy to try to get him to climb the ladder and grab a couple of hay bales for her. "Katie is super excited to be a big sister. I was afraid she'd be jealous, but she's happy about it. Brooke's thrilled as well, which is wonderful."

  "They're lucky to have a family," Emma said softly.

  "I know they are." Clare sat beside her on an upturned tractor tire while Emma got out her paints. "So, tell me, why did you marry Harlan? I know how you feel about marriage."

  Emma hesitated. "Because I love him?"

  Clare laughed and shook her head. "Sweetie, I've known you since we were riding tricycles. You can't lie to me. Astrid might have known you for only two years, but I know you like I know myself. You don't love him, and I know you're still afraid of marriage and men. So why did you do it?"

  Emma sighed as she pried open the can of light green paint. "He suggested it," she said. "But it made sense to me." She glanced around to make sure no one else was listening, and then lowered her voice. "You remember Mattie?"

  Clare nodded. "The sweet little girl from your class? The one whose mother died?"

  "Yes." Emma couldn't prevent the surge of anticipation that leapt through her. "I am hoping to adopt her."

  "Oh, my God!" Clare screamed and jumped up to hug her. "That is so awesome! You'll be a great mother!"

  "Wait." Emma peeled her arms off. "Her aunt and uncle want to adopt her, too, and so do her grandparents in South Carolina. Chloe, her social worker, said that I don't have a chance against them as a single woman."

  Understanding flared on Clare's face. "So, you're now married with an absentee husband." She cocked her head. "What's his job? Why does he travel all the time?"

  Emma hesitated. "It's not my place to tell."

  "Wow. It's that kind of job." Clare rubbed her chin. "Does Harlan know he's on the hook to become a dad if this works?"

  Emma stared at her. "What? No, I'll adopt her myself—"

  "What? Are you insane?" Clare gave her an incredulous look. "He's your husband. It'll be his deal as well, don't you think?"

  Emma shoved the paint stirrer into the can and began to churn the paint, trying not to feel the weight of her words as she said them. "He's not coming back. Not ever." He's not coming back. Not ever. Words that had been a comfort to her last night, and even this morning, suddenly felt cruel.

  "Oh." Clare looked sad for a moment. "He didn't want Astrid to know."

  Emma shook her head.

  "Men," Clare sighed as she absently ran a hand over her flat belly. "They just don't get women, do they? We're so much stronger than they think we are."

  Emma didn't feel very strong at the moment. Wearily, she sank down on a hay bale across the aisle and looked imploringly at the woman who had been her best friend for more than two decades. "Will you help me?"

  Clare raised her eyebrows. "With Mattie? You'll be a great mom, Emma. You won't need my help."

  "No, not that." She shook her head, suddenly feeling so overwhelmed with the choice she had made, with all that was at stake. "With convincing the social worker that I'm reall
y married to the love of my life."

  Clare gave her a long, appraising look that wasn't entirely without censure. "You're going to adopt a child through lies?"

  Emma swallowed, her head starting to throb. "It's not all lies. I am married. I've known him for years. We have this...connection. It's real."

  Sudden interest flared in Clare's eyes, and she leaned forward, swooping in on the nugget Emma had let slip. "What kind of connection?"

  Emma's heart began to race again, and she inched closer to Clare, needing desperately to tell someone the truth. "I don't know what it is, but it's..." She didn't finish. She didn't know how to describe it. "I am absolutely terrified of marriage, Clare. More than words can express. When Harlan and I were about to do it, I started to get dizzy and I thought I was going to faint." She thought back to that moment when he'd wrapped his arms around her, how all the terror had seemed to fade in his embrace. "Then he held me, and the fear just…dissolved. I felt safe."

  Clare's face softened, and she squeezed Emma's hand. "That's beautiful, Emma. You deserve to feel safe."

  "It felt good," Emma admitted. "I'm not afraid of him. I don't know if it's because he was leaving or what it is." She managed a grin, trying to lighten the moment. "Maybe it's those blue eyes of his. Who could be afraid of a man with such incredible blue eyes? I mean, you should see them when he smiles, which isn't often, of course, but they get this little crinkle at the corners, like he's laughing in his heart, even though he can't hear it over all the noise in his head, you know?"

  "Laughing in his heart? Harlan, the man who hasn't cracked a smile in five years?" A sudden gleam ignited in Clare's eyes. "Emma, did you sleep with him?"

  Emma couldn't keep the smile off her face. "I did. And it was the best night of my life."

  Clare clapped her hands, shrieking with delight. "Oh, my God, he broke through your walls! That's so incredible! I didn't think anyone ever would after Preston did so much damage. I'm so happy for you!"