Accidentally Married

by Jean Oram

  “You’re the world’s worst liar, Burke Carver,” Gulliver said. “So? What should I send this nice Jill—what’s her last name?—so she doesn’t cause you grief later? Or should I send her flowers so she keeps coming back?”

  “She’s already taken more than she should.”

  “Oh, do tell your friend Gully everything. I promise not to tell a soul—and did I mention everyone is soulless these days?”

  Burke sighed, then put on his stern-boss voice. “I need a list of my personal assets, as well as those of the company, by two.”

  Gulliver said quietly, “Oh, boy. She got you bad.”

  “It’s not like that,” Burke said gruffly, even though, again, he felt like he was lying.

  Jill sat with Rebecca Walker in Mandy Mattson’s small wraps and sandwiches café in Blueberry Springs. Years ago, when Jill was a teen, the Ute elder had taught her how to make her natural soaps and creams, using ingredients that grew in the local alpine meadows. Since then she’d always been working on the products in one way or another, selling them first to family and friends, then in the stores and farmers markets around Blueberry Springs.

  Rebecca, who had been watching Jill all through their meal, finally said, “You look tired.”

  “Long night,” Jill replied. She’d been up fretting about Burke and how mixed up he made her feel, as well as the possible consequences of their spontaneous marriage. If only she hadn’t accidentally thrown out their marriage certificate the next morning. If only she’d looked inside the envelope.

  When she and Hayes had divorced it certainly hadn’t been fun, gutting her inside for what felt like ages. With things between her and Burke being complicated and emotionally all over the place, she knew she wouldn’t be gutted. But she was still worried over what she might face later that day. So much so that she almost broke her vow to keep her marriage a secret around town, and asked Rebecca to come along as moral support.

  But soon it would be over, and she could focus once again on raising enough money through her traditional botanicals to rebuild the Ute friendship center, which had been destroyed in a forest fire years ago. Rebecca kept telling her she didn’t need to, that it wasn’t her responsibility. But Jill knew how much that community gathering place was missed. Not only was Rebecca’s son becoming involved in drugs now that he and his friends wandered the town at night, but it had been like a welcoming second home to Jill as a teen. It had been a place where laughter and calming drums were the soundtrack instead of arguing parents and a twin sister who was too busy being popular with her boyfriend of the week in their shared bedroom.

  It was time to get serious about earning enough to rebuild the center. Jill had kept the Ute waiting long enough.

  “Man problems,” Rebecca declared, guessing the reason for Jill’s lack of sleep. Her big smile lit up her face.

  “Sort of,” Jill admitted.

  “Not Devon?” Rebecca knew the whole sad story about Jill and Devon Mattson. How they’d happened to be on the same plane to Hawaii years ago, and staying in the same hotel. It had been a coincidence. One that had brought them home as a couple, much to everyone’s surprise. But Devon was a free spirit, or had been until Olivia Carrington had come back into his life. He was adventure, fun and spontaneity. Jill was steady and reliable. He needed Band-Aids. She had them stocked.

  It hadn’t worked out. And she’d wasted years of her life focusing on a relationship that wasn’t meant to be—even after it was over. A discount deal had brought them together, not fate.

  It had been happenstance, plain and simple. Just like it had been happenstance that had led her parents to win a weeklong trip for two when Jill was thirteen. That had been followed by a “meant to be” gig, according to her father, that had resulted in them staying on board the cruise for an additional two-and-a-half months as the fill-in musicians, while Grandma Armstrong stepped in back home to take care of the girls.

  It had seemed like fate until her father had fallen off the stage during a storm and damaged the tendons in his forearm, making it impossible for him to continue his career as a guitarist. Her parents had come home with no future, no income.

  That, according to Jill, was hardly the serendipitous luck her father claimed it to be. Her parents’ marriage had gone downhill after that, only recently stabilizing again.

  She’d learned about believing in happy coincidences leading to success. The only luck out there was the kind you made on your own.

  “Not Devon,” Jill confirmed to Rebecca, shaking the past from her thoughts.

  “Good. He wasn’t the right man for you.”

  “You could have told me,” Jill said lightly.

  “Did I not tell you every day? I said, ‘Jill, this is not the man for you.’”

  Jill gave her a rueful smile. “I didn’t want to listen.”

  “You didn’t want to listen,” Rebecca confirmed. “You wanted to believe in love, like every young woman. Just wait. I will find the right man for you—and before your sister’s tenth wedding anniversary party in May.”

  Jill straightened. “Actually, I found a dating site that has a very scientific algorithm which will sort through the site’s most eligible men and find the perfect one for me.”

  “Oh, I love dating sites. So many juicy options.”

  Jill laughed. Rebecca was a grandmother. A married grandmother, but she had a cheeky spirit that kept her young.

  “You’d never stray,” Jill stated.

  Rebecca’s eyes danced.

  “I had the site recommend someone to me last night,” Jill went on.

  “And he’s the reason you’re tired today?”

  “No.” She laughed. “I haven’t contacted him yet.” Eager to share what had been a secret up to this point, she turned her phone to Rebecca and showed her the man’s profile.

  Her nose scrunched.

  “I know,” Jill said quickly. “He’s not handsome, but look. He already owns a house. That shows stability. He has a ten-year plan. He’s investing for his retirement. My life’s well organized and even I don’t do that.”

  She couldn’t help but wonder if Burke had all those things. He had the handsomeness in spades.

  “You should invest,” Rebecca said.

  “I plan on investing in a friendship center.” She continued on quickly before her friend could say they had Mandy’s café to gather in, where they didn’t have to do the baking or clean the coffeepot. “He’s also very well organized.” Jill tapped on the man’s profile photo to show the bookcase behind him. “See? No dust and the books are in alphabetical order. By author.”

  Rebecca Walker didn’t look impressed.

  “We’re a 98 percent match.”

  “But is there love? Chemistry? Sexual passion? Being too much alike is boring. It’s like being alone, except there’s always an annoying version of yourself hanging around all the time.”

  Jill giggled and put her phone in her purse. “I’ve been swept away by the idea of love before and it didn’t work out. I’m planning it this time. I’m getting too old for wild-goose chases.”

  The older woman shrugged. “But that’s the true beauty of love.”

  Back at work, Jill parked her SUV outside All You’s brand-new two-story, log-and-river-stone headquarters. The commissioned building fitted perfectly into the mountain town. It was modern yet rustic, and utilized solar power in its green build for the all-natural cosmetics’ home. A nice little full-circle moment, as the products had prevented a massive hydroelectric dam from being built adjacent to the picturesque little community.

  She headed to her office to pick up a stack of spreadsheets, then went to Emma Carrington’s office. Her boss was sitting near one of the peaked two-story windows at her massive mahogany antique desk, wearing a silk blouse and fitted black slacks, her pixie cut looking adorably chic as always.

  “I have an appointment in the city again this afternoon,” Jill said, walking across the large room. Jill kept her focus on the papers
as though organizing them, hoping Emma wouldn’t ask for details about needing more time off. She feared the woman would see right through her and read the truth. And not just because she’d had her own secret marriage last year to Luke Cohen, the man she now worked alongside.

  Emma took the spreadsheets and flipped through them. “How are the orders?”

  “Holding steady.” Jill toyed with the wide leather bracelet she’d taken to wearing on her left wrist.

  “Everything okay?” Emma asked when she was done, setting the orders aside.

  “Yes, thanks.” Or it soon would be, anyway. “I’ll be back by six and then work until nine or so, and tomorrow to make up for the rest of the lost time.”

  Emma was watching her, and worried she might see through her artful dodging, Jill snatched a binder off her boss’s desk. It had papers shoved in willy-nilly. “Let me organize this for you.”

  “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

  “Just fine, thanks.”

  “Do you need a friend to go with you? I can clear my schedule. I wouldn’t mind doing a little shopping at a real mall.”

  “No,” Jill said quickly, just as Ginger McGinty, the local bridal shop owner, entered the office, her reddish curls bouncing jauntily. “Really. But thanks.”

  Ginger took one look at Jill’s expression and said, “You’ve got a secret.”

  “What? No.” Jill cringed. She’d protested too fast. Way too fast.

  Both women were watching her, and Jill sighed, giving in. “I’m meeting with Burke Carver.” She stopped, unsure what else to say. Emma would assume Jill’s ancient business proposal was being considered. Ginger would assume it was a hot date.

  It was neither. How did you explain it was a meeting to dissolve a marriage you forgot had even happened? One’s wedding day was not something most women didn’t remember. Especially not someone like Ginger, whose whole life revolved around celebrating the big day.

  Emma squealed. “I knew you two would strike a deal. Is he playing hardball? Do you need advice?”

  Jill ducked her nose into the messy binder, straightening the sheets.

  “Are you blushing?” Ginger asked. “You have a crush. This is personal, not business.”

  “What?” Emma sounded startled. “Like a date?”

  “No, no,” Jill said, impressed with how casual she sounded.

  “Oh. Well, he is cute,” Emma stated.

  Jill felt herself blushing even more. Burke wasn’t cute. He was handsome. Very handsome. And he kissed like… She’d better not think about it or Ginger would totally read the situation the wrong way.

  “Well,” Emma said, “I can’t believe it’s taken almost a year for him to get his butt in gear and see what your products have to offer.” She leaned back in her office chair, arms crossed, looking indignant on Jill’s behalf. “Your businesses are perfect for a partnership.”

  “I doubt anything like that will come from this meeting,” Jill muttered. “But I appreciate your optimism.”

  “Let me know if you need me to give him a nudge,” Ginger said with a mischievous wink. She was a well-known matchmaker whose shop attracted customers from miles and miles away, even more so now that Emma’s sister, Olivia, was designing one-of-a-kind dresses for her. But it was Ginger and her matchmaking skills that truly seemed to be boosting her business these days. She leaned against Emma’s desk, giving their short-haired friend a pointed look. “I hear mixing business and pleasure is the way to go in this town these days.”

  Emma laughed. “Hey, it worked for me!”

  “And Ethan and Lily,” Ginger added.

  “I don’t anticipate needing your services in the near future,” Jill said. “At least not with Burke. I’d rather keep things professional.”

  “Like Amy and Moe.” Ginger tapped her chin. “That’s professional, but they totally have a thing for each other. How long until they succumb, do you think?”

  “They tried being more than friends,” Jill said, referring to the two long-time friends who ran the town’s brew pub together.

  “They have a marriage pledge,” Emma stated. “Marry each other at thirty—and Amy is only months away.”

  “But neither of them will actually go through with it,” Jill declared.

  “I think they will…” Ginger had a wicked glint in her eye.

  “Yeah, if you have any say,” Emma teased.

  “You know me well, my dear,” Ginger said. “Jill, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.” She headed for the door, then, remembering why she’d popped by in the first place, said, “Are we on for that late lunch, Emma?”

  “You bet. But I have to be back by two for a conference call.”

  Ginger flashed her a thumbs-up, her green-and-gold wedding band winking in the sunshine that streamed through the room’s windows. “Meet you at Mandy’s then. Tell us how it goes with Mr. Dream,” she added, waggling her eyebrows at Jill. “I’ll be sure to tell Cupid to meet you there.”

  “Not funny.”

  After finishing up a few tasks, Jill made the two-hour drive to Dakota, the closest city to Blueberry Springs, glad the roads had been plowed since the previous night’s snowfall. It was just beyond the mountains, at the base of the foothills. Dakota always seemed like a different world, and Jill felt odd without the peaks surrounding her in a protective ring. But even though the geography had opened up, she somehow felt closed in today. Was it the impending divorce? When her ex had run off she’d found it embarrassing. Humiliating. The gossip had been the worst of it, especially after everyone found out Hayes had been stealing from the café right in front of her. This time it would be an unemotional, private divorce, but she still felt apprehensive, as if something wasn’t quite right. Wasn’t going according to plan.

  She found a parking spot a few buildings down from the law office, and met Burke on the sidewalk. He nodded hello and hit his remote, locking his sedan. Under his arm was a thick, expandable folder that she presumed had lists of his sizable assets.

  She had a one-page printout.

  “Hi,” she said nervously.

  Burke was wearing a blue ski jacket that brought out the color of his eyes. He’d had his hair cut since yesterday, and as he moved to open the door for her she could see a faint tan line where it had been longer in the back. She longed to touch the skin, see if it was warm.

  “No suit jacket for me?” he asked.

  “I told you I was going to burn it. You didn’t believe me?” In truth, in Blueberry Springs everyone dropped their dry-cleaning off at a depot which then sent the laundry off to the city, meaning his jacket wouldn’t be back for at least a week.

  “Nope. You’re too sweet.”

  “Did I fail to mention my dad owns a gun range?”

  “Then remind me never to mess with him.”

  “I’m the one who hits the bull’s-eye on a regular basis,” she said as she walked through the door he was holding for her. She hated to admit just how much she loved seeing his smile falter.

  Their meeting with the lawyer was fairly straightforward, other than Burke spending a fair amount of time assuring that the way things were laid out, Jill wouldn’t get a dime belonging to him.

  “Burke, it’s okay,” she said calmly. “I don’t want anything of yours. We’re ending this like it never even happened.”

  “Except you owe me a pile of cash.”

  “Except that,” she added quietly.

  As much as she wanted his opinion to not matter, his lack of trust stung. She understood he had to protect himself, but he kept acting as though she was angling to steal everything, through a loophole in the divorce agreement. Although, after snatching a peek at his company’s numbers and putting two and two together, she understood why he wanted the loan paid back ASAP. He’d earmarked his own available credit to complete a major expansion project. By claiming it unknowingly, she’d basically chained him to a concrete block, cut a hole in the ice over Blueberry Lake in the middle of winter a
nd tossed him in. Goodbye, Burke.

  She shivered, imagining how he must feel.

  “That’s it.” The lawyer stood, ushering them out. “My assistant will call you when the papers are ready. Typically in about a week. Two at most.”

  As they left the office, Jill asked Burke, “Do you have business partners you can appeal to? For the funds you need?”

  He slid her a sidelong look, and she felt as though she’d overstepped, asking about his business.

  “They’re tapped out,” he said. “I need funds for both my expansion project and for Tiffer’s fee if he likes our pitch in April.”

  “Your business was one of the up-and-coming, most-profitable new businesses featured in the Esquire Daily Business News. I’m sure he’ll say yes.”

  “You need to pay me back,” Burke said tightly.

  “You need more than what I borrowed.”

  “We also need as much capital as possible so we have skin in the game, so others will have faith in us. We can only raise that if we’ve made a significant investment.”

  “Maybe you could stretch out your expansion? Like, do it in stages? Look into crowd funding?”

  It felt overwhelmingly impossible that her business was directly accountable for the success of his. The more she thought about it, the more she felt as though her world was slipping out of her grip.

  Burke turned to her on the street, his expression somber. “We are doing it in stages, except you just removed the ability for us to complete stages five through eight. You threw a tornado at my house of cards.”

  Jill nodded, trying to stay cool.

  House of cards. House of cards.

  Nothing about this situation was anywhere near cool-inducing.

  “This loan? It’s your problem, Jill. Jobs depend upon you paying it back.”

  She couldn’t repay it in less than five years. And for the first time, she realized why Wini, the manager of the Blueberry Springs bank, had continually refused her loan applications. It wasn’t just because the local branch had been swept downstream during a flood last spring and had some hefty rebuilding costs, but because Jill had no collateral. She had big dreams and a five-year plan, but nothing to back it up.