The Marriage Risk

by Debbie Macomber

  * * *

  “I do,” Abbey said, her voice ringing clearly through the church.

  “I do, too,” Scott added.

  “Me, too,” Susan chimed in, not wanting to be left out.

  The congregation laughed, and Lanni saw there was more than one wet eye in the crowd. Reverend Wilson made his final statement, and then Sawyer O’Halloran kissed his wife.

  A spontaneous burst of applause broke out. Ben reached for his handkerchief a second time. He blew his nose, and the sound, which resembled the honk of a goose, echoed against the church walls.

  Scott and Susan led the procession out of the church, and the people of Hard Luck spilled out after them.

  Somehow in the crush Charles found Lanni. His hand reached for hers and he drew her aside. She knew he was needed at the reception; she was, too. Abbey had asked her to cut the cake.

  Neither moved. Or spoke.

  Did she dare hope he’d felt the same magic she had during the service? Did she dare believe Charles loved her? Her heart refused to beat. Her lungs forgot to breathe.

  People stepped around them, laughing, talking, joking.

  Slowly, because she desperately needed to touch him, she raised her hand. Her palm settled against his cheek. He was warm and solid and wonderful.

  Wordlessly he drew her into his arms.

  “Lanni—”

  “I know. I know.”

  “You felt it, too?”

  She nodded.

  Charles struggled for words, then shrugged helplessly. “I can’t talk now.”

  She nodded, understanding.

  “Later. All right?” Releasing her, he moved away. Then—as if he couldn’t bear to leave her—he turned back. Holding her face between his hands, he kissed her, a long kiss that told her everything he felt. He took a deep, calming breath before he hurried toward the school gymnasium, where the reception was being held.

  It took Lanni a minute to compose herself. She wanted to laugh and weep at the same time. How she’d ever explain this to her family she didn’t know. Didn’t want to know. They’d tell her she’d lost her mind. It was only natural, they’d say, to feel this kind of joy in the middle of a wedding service.

  They wanted her to fall in love, but not with Charles O’Halloran.

  She’d tell them soon, she decided. For the first time in her life she was truly in love. If no one else, Matt, her brother, would understand. Karen, her former sister-in-law, would, too. And if she was lucky, so would her parents. But before she told them anything, she needed to tell Charles that Catherine Fletcher was her grandmother.

  * * *

  He was possibly the worst best man Sawyer could have chosen, Charles thought later. He was part of the reception line, but he couldn’t concentrate on greeting family and friends. He was sure he hadn’t spoken a single sensible word from the moment he took his place beside his mother. Fortunately, despite his previous fears, only two reporters showed up, both from Seattle. So that was one less thing to worry about.

  “Charles,” Ellen whispered when the crowd began to thin. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Wrong?”

  “Who is it you keep craning your neck to see?”

  Charles wasn’t convinced she was ready for this. “I met someone very special, Mother. As soon as we’re finished here, I’d like to introduce you.”

  Ellen’s jaw went slack, and she laid a hand on his forearm. “Charles, are you telling me—Are you saying you’ve fallen in love?”

  This time he didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

  “Oh, my heavens!” Ellen placed her free hand over her heart. “When? Who is she? Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

  Charles grinned. “Actually Lanni and I haven’t known each other long.”

  “That certainly didn’t stop Sawyer.”

  He laughed outright. “So I noticed.”

  “I don’t care what anyone might think, the minute I met Abbey I realized she was perfect for him.”

  Charles eyed his mother skeptically. “You’d say that if Sawyer announced he was marrying a gorilla. The fact that Abbey comes complete with grandchildren must elevate her to the level of sainthood.”

  “Don’t you pooh-pooh me, young man,” Ellen said, tapping his arm in reproach. “It’s true I’m overjoyed that at least one of my sons is getting married. But I want it understood that I couldn’t be happier with Sawyer’s choice.”

  “Yes, Mother,” Charles replied with mock timidity.

  Ellen frowned at him. “Now stop. Tell me about your young lady.”

  “She isn’t mine. Not yet,” he said. “Lanni’s another one of the women Christian hired. She’s working for Midnight Sons as a secretary. She’s from Seattle, at least I think she is. That’s where she’s been living for the past four years, anyway. She recently graduated from the University of Washington.”

  “Point her out to me,” Ellen urged.

  Charles directed her attention across the room to the table where Lanni was busy cutting and serving slices of wedding cake. He couldn’t look at her and not be stirred in some way. He observed with pleasure how friendly and open she was, taking time to chat with each person in line. He found it difficult to pull his gaze back to his mother.

  “The blonde?” Ellen asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, Charles, she’s lovely.”

  “She’s the most beautiful person I ever met.”

  Ellen patted his hand. “What a sweet thing to say.”

  Charles still couldn’t force his eyes away from Lanni. “She’s too young for me.”

  “Nonsense. You’re what—six, seven years older?”

  “Ten.”

  “Does the age difference bother her?”

  He had to think about that. “She’s never said.”

  “Then I doubt she cares.”

  “I’m often gone weeks on end.” He tried another argument. “I have to be—it’s my job.”

  “Does she object?”

  “I don’t know. We’ve never discussed it.”

  “Ask her,” Ellen advised with perfect logic.

  He paused, marveling at her easy acceptance of Lanni—and of her son’s feelings for a woman who was a virtual stranger. “I want you to get to know her, Mother.”

  “I’ll enjoy that.”

  Abbey and Sawyer broke away from the reception line. The disc jockey who’d been hired for the dance had set up his equipment, and the first strains of a haunting melody filled the gymnasium.

  Sawyer drew Abbey into his arms and danced with his bride. Studying his brother, Charles noticed that he moved with grace and a surprisingly relaxed air.

  He heard Ellen’s voice and turned back to her. “I want you to be happy,” she was saying. “I mean that, Charles. I’d be delighted to see you find happiness with that lovely girl. I am really looking forward to a houseful of grandchildren.”

  The way he was feeling at the moment, Charles would have enjoyed getting started on that project just as soon as it could be arranged.

  He settled his mother in a comfortable chair. Pearl Inman joined Ellen, and the two women hugged.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” Charles said, eager to hurry over to Lanni.

  “Of course.” Ellen seemed just as eager to dismiss him.

  He was halfway across the room when he turned back to see Ellen and Pearl with their heads close together, their mouths going a mile a minute. Charles considered the nurse his mother’s only real friend in Hard Luck.

  His mother had never adjusted to life in Alaska. Charles believed, perhaps unfairly, that she’d never tried hard enough. True, there’d been a brief period when she might have found happiness in Hard Luck and in her marriage—but Catherine Fletcher’s bitterness had destroyed that, and in the process whatever joy his parents had achieved.

  Charles didn’t wish Catherine ill, but he was thankful she no longer lived in town. It would be just like her to try to ruin this day for his mother.

  Lanni
smiled when he approached her. “Are you ready for some cake?”

  “Sure, but how about a dance first?”

  Lanni glanced at Louise Gold, one of the townspeople and a particular friend of Abbey’s. “Go on,” Louise urged. “Most everyone’s had cake.”

  Charles thanked her. He noticed that nine-year-old Ronny was attempting to help his mother—if help was the word—by scooping up any discarded frosting with the tip of his index finger and sneaking it inside his suit pocket. Little Chrissie Harris and her dad, Mitch, stood nearby, watching him with amusement and enjoying their generous slices of cake.

  “I’ve been looking forward to dancing with you,” Lanni told Charles, stretching out her hand.

  “Just remember I’m not good at this,” he said. They moved onto the makeshift dance floor. Charles was willing to agree to just about anything for an excuse to hold her. Even if it meant acting like a fool in front of the whole town.

  Fortunately the disc jockey had chosen a slow number. Charles gathered Lanni in his embrace and nearly sighed aloud when she slipped her arms around him. He didn’t do much more than shuffle back and forth, but at least he wasn’t stepping on her feet.

  Lanni rested her head against his shoulder, and he closed his eyes. His chest ached with what he felt for her. He wanted to ask her about what had happened between them in the church. But he couldn’t bear to release her, so the question would have to wait.

  The song ended, and Charles made a pretense of breaking away. But before the next song started, he already had her in his arms.

  Unfortunately the disc jockey started playing one of the fast-paced songs from the seventies. High-pitched male voices chanted something about staying alive. Couples jerked their bodies in every direction. Charles figured if he and Lanni were going to survive the song, it wouldn’t be on the dance floor.

  He scanned the room, then reached for her hand and drew her away. There was absolutely no chance of finding a quiet corner in which to talk. So Charles led her out of the building and into the bright sunlight.

  “You want us to dance out here?” Lanni teased.

  “Not dance,” he said, bringing her back into his arms. The distance between their mouths felt like the most urgent journey he’d ever made. Charles didn’t stop to consider what he was doing. He realized in some vague way that anyone walking outside would stumble upon them. He didn’t care.

  Lanni moaned and responded with the same pent-up desperation that had driven him. He was greedy for her, needed to express everything he felt. She tasted good, so good. Her softness, the smoothness of her skin, the glitter of her satiny hair in the sunlight, made him want to hold her, touch her, forever.

  “I couldn’t wait a second longer,” he said in a husky whisper.

  “I couldn’t, either.”

  He waited until he’d had a chance to catch his breath. Glancing quickly around, he steered her toward the playground, his arms still around her.

  “Where are we going?” Lanni asked.

  “To the swings.”

  She pressed her head to his shoulder. “I’ve always loved the swings. When I was a little girl I’d pump and pump and aim for the sky.”

  Charles set her in the U-shaped seat and stood in front of her. He grasped the heavy chains. “I think the Fates must have an excellent sense of humor,” he said as he drew the swing forward.

  “Why’s that?”

  He released the chains and stepped away as Lanni swayed gently back and forth.

  “I gave Sawyer such a hard time about falling in love with Abbey. I was so sure something like that couldn’t really happen, let alone practically overnight.”

  For a breathless moment, Lanni said nothing. “You believe differently now?”

  “Yes. I know differently. Sawyer nearly lost Abbey because of me.”

  Her eyes widened with surprise.

  “I was worried about what was going on with my levelheaded brother. Like I told you, I just didn’t think it was possible to feel the way he did. So in my own stupid way I tried to fix things by offering Abbey and the kids their airfare home. I figured out of sight, out of mind.”

  “But Abbey didn’t leave.”

  “No, thank heaven. She stayed. And now you’re here, and I’d probably shoot any man who tried to convince you to go.”

  She looked away from him. “Charles, I need to—”

  “No,” he interrupted, “let me finish. I have to say this. The moment we met, I felt a connection with you. Later, when you were walking home with Duke Porter—” He shook his head. “I can’t find the words to describe what happened.”

  “And in church this afternoon.”

  “Yes, again, only much stronger.”

  “I felt it, too, Charles.” Her voice was faint.

  “I know nothing about love, Lanni. All I know is what I feel for you. I’m not comfortable with it. The fact is, I’m not sure what to do about it.”

  “Are you trying to say you love me?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he answered starkly.

  “Oh, Charles.”

  The one reaction he hadn’t expected was this woebegone look that spread over her face.

  “I realize I shouldn’t be throwing this at you now,” he said hurriedly, “but I had a feeling that I had to tell you or it was going to burn a hole straight through me.”

  “I…love you, too.”

  His shoulders relaxed. At least he wasn’t in this predicament alone. “Well, where do we go from here?”

  “Do we have to go anywhere?” she asked.

  “I guess not.” He was almost ashamed to hear the relief in his voice. But the idea of going where Sawyer had gone terrified Charles. He wasn’t ready for marriage. His feelings were too new. He needed time to adjust to the fact that he was in love before complicating his life with an irrevocable commitment. Because if he ever did get married, it had to be forever.

  He pulled the swing toward him and gave her a loving kiss. “We should get back to the reception.”

  “I know.” She didn’t sound eager to return.

  “My mother’s dying to meet you.”

  “I want to meet her, too.”

  Hand in hand, they entered the gymnasium. Several couples were dancing, but because of the shortage of women, Ben Hamilton and John Henderson were waltzing around the room alone, without partners. Duke Porter eyed Lanni—and Charles—as if to gauge how likely she’d be to accept a dance with him. Every other unattached man seemed to be gazing at her just as avidly.

  The last person Charles expected to have to give her up to, though, was his own younger brother.

  “Hello, beautiful,” Christian said, planting himself in front of Lanni.

  “Hello, yourself,” Charles answered.

  “I wasn’t talking to you.”

  “Hello,” Lanni responded.

  “Can I have this dance and the next one and the one after that?” Christian asked.

  Uncertain, Lanni looked at Charles. “Perhaps later,” she said kindly. “I promised Charles I’d meet his mother.”

  “Great,” Christian muttered. “I’ll tag along, and if I’m lucky my big bad brother might find it in his heart to introduce you to me, as well.”

  Charles didn’t know what kind of game Christian was playing. His brother knew darn well who Lanni was. He’d hired her!

  He decided to ignore Christian, but his irritating brother would have none of it. Like a playful puppy, he followed them across the room to where Ellen sat.

  “Mother,” Charles said, placing his arm around Lanni’s shoulders, “this is Lanni Caldwell. Lanni, my mother, Ellen Greenleaf.”

  “Hello, Lanni.”

  “Hello.” They exchanged smiles and brief handshakes.

  “Please sit down,” Ellen said, patting the empty chair next to her. “Charles has told me very little about you.”

  Christian made a show of clearing his throat. “I know I’m stiff competition, but I still deserve an introduction,” he insisted f
or the second time.

  Charles frowned. “Don’t tell me you don’t recognize Lanni.”

  “I don’t,” Christian said blankly.

  “She’s Sawyer’s secretary. You hired her, remember?”

  Christian’s look revealed his confusion. “I’ve never seen this woman before in my life.”

  “I think I can explain all this,” Lanni said, her voice trembling slightly.

  “The woman I hired is named Mariah Douglas,” Christian continued. “She gets here next week. I finished making the arrangements a couple of days ago.”

  Charles’s frown deepened. “Lanni?”

  “He’s right,” she said. Charles watched as her whole body tensed. “I came to Hard Luck to clean out my grandmother’s house. Sawyer called my mother and asked if Midnight Sons could rent it.”

  “Your grandmother’s house,” Charles repeated. “Who’s your grandmother?”

  “Catherine Harmon Fletcher,” she said.

  CHAPTER 6

  “Charles?” Ellen turned to her son as if seeking an explanation. “Surely there’s some mistake.”

  Charles ignored his mother, his eyes searing Lanni’s. She squared her shoulders and met his gaze without flinching.

  “There’s no mistake, Mother,” Charles said icily. “It seems I’ve been taken for a fool.” With that he turned and walked away.

  Lanni resisted the urge to run after him. “I apologize if I caused you any discomfort, Mrs. Greenleaf,” she said calmly, trying to keep her voice void of emotion.

  Ellen stared after Charles. “I’m sorry, Lanni.” Her eyes filled with sadness. “You see, there’s been so much hurt to both families it’s difficult to overlook. I don’t wish your grandmother any harm, but I don’t want anything to do with her, either.”

  “I understand.” In essence Ellen was asking Lanni to leave. “I’m…glad to have met you.”

  Ellen didn’t return the sentiment. Instead, she simply nodded.

  With her heart in her throat, Lanni left Ellen and Christian. The need to talk about this with Charles burned in her chest. He was hurt and angry, justifiably so. But she hadn’t meant to deceive him. She’d tried to tell him—twice—but both times he’d stopped her. She’d been almost grateful, fearing exactly this.