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Circle of Family
Mia Ross
“You told me you don’t like to be in one place too long,” Marianne said. Ridge noticed that she was watching him intently. “You miss things that way." “Such as?” He shrugged. “Friends. Dogs. Having a place to come back to at the end of the day that doesn’t charge you when you walk in the door.” He could tell she hadn’t expected that. “You like Harland, then?” “Very much.” There was plenty to like about the close-knit community on and around the farm.Because Ridge didn’t know how to say that without spooking her, he settled on something less personal. “Little things mean a lot when you don’t have them.” She eyed him with something resembling respect, which he took as a good sign. Marianne was by far the most mistrustful woman he’d ever met.He still wasn’t sure why he was trying so hard to get through to her, and he had to wonder if his genetic stubbornness was steering him down a rocky, dead-end road.
When Love Lands
With his leather jacket, aviator sunglasses and restored WWII plane, pilot Ridge Collins has everyone in tiny Harland, North Carolina, talking. Especially single mother Marianne Weston’s impressionable young kids—who think Ridge would make a fine father. But shy Marianne is afraid to open her heart to the handsome pilot with a harrowing past. For one, he’s in town only temporarily. And Marianne is all about roots and Sunday dinners, while Ridge is into seeing what’s around the bend. But two sweet kids are set on showing him there’s no greater adventure than family.
Enjoy a special 15th anniversary bonus story from Love Inspired Historical, His American Duchess by Anna Schmidt
“You told me you don’t like to be in one place too long,” Marianne said.
Ridge noticed that she was watching him intently. “You miss things that way.”
“Such as?”
He shrugged. “Friends. Dogs. Having a place to come back to at the end of the day that doesn’t charge you when you walk in the door.”
He could tell she hadn’t expected that. “You like Harland, then?”
“Very much.” There was plenty to like about the close-knit community on and around the farm. Because Ridge didn’t know how to say that without spooking her, he settled on something less personal. “Little things mean a lot when you don’t have them.”
She eyed him with something resembling respect, which he took as a good sign. Marianne was by far the most mistrustful woman he’d ever met.
He still wasn’t sure why he was trying so hard to get through to her, and he had to wonder if his genetic stubbornness was steering him down a rocky, dead-end road.
MIA ROSS
loves great stories. She enjoys reading about fascinating people, long-ago times and exotic places. But only for a little while, because her reality is pretty sweet. Married to her college sweetheart, she’s the proud mom of two amazing kids, whose schedules keep her hopping. Busy as she is, she can’t imagine trading her life for anyone else’s—and she has a pretty good imagination. You can visit her online at www.miaross.com (http://www.miaross.com).
Circle of Family
Mia Ross
Dear Reader,
Welcome to Love Inspired! We’re celebrating our 15th anniversary this month, and you’re invited to the party!
Love Inspired Books began in September 1997, offering readers inspirational contemporary romances. Fifteen years later, Love Inspired has never wavered from our promise to our readers; we are proud to publish short contemporary romances that feature Christian men and women facing the challenges of life and love in today’s world.
In honor of our anniversary, we are showcasing some of our top authors in September. Irene Hannon, Arlene James and Lois Richer were part of the original lineup in 1997, and we’re supremely blessed that they are still writing for us in 2012. Jillian Hart and Margaret Daley have been part of the Love Inspired family since the early 2000s. And newcomer Mia Ross rounds out the month. We hope you enjoy these sweet stories full of home, family and love.
As a special thank-you to our readers, each book this month contains a bonus story. Give them a try, and we know you’ll find our authors the very best in Christian romance!
Thank you for reading Love Inspired.
Blessings,
Melissa Endlich
Senior Editor
For my friends who had the courage
to make a new life for themselves and their children. I admire you more than I can say.
Acknowledgments
To the pros who helped me make this book exactly what it should be: Elaine Spencer, Melissa Endlich, Rachel Burkot and the very talented staff
at Love Inspired.
A high five to all the dedicated—and very patient—coaches my children have had over the years.
The hours are long and the weather can be awful, but you’ve had a tremendous impact on them.
It really does take a village to raise a child, and
I know my kids are better people because of you.
More thanks to the gang at Seekerville
www.seekerville.net (http://www.seekerville.net). You give me a place to share good news and bad, and I always leave with a smile on my face.
As always, this book didn’t get written in a closet. My friends and family surround me with support and encouragement every single day.
I couldn’t possibly do this without you.
* * *
Let all that you do be done in love.
—1 Corinthians 16:14
Contents
Chapter One (#u1a05ac46-622a-57da-b151-5308be0cae4c)
Chapter Two (#u116c3b5f-8f4f-5d11-863f-b0d8607c6815)
Chapter Three (#u0cd5a80f-c792-5f3f-bad3-94572f4da518)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Questions for Discussion (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
“What in the world?”
Up to her elbows in pink ribbons and last-minute wedding favors, Marianne Weston looked around the decorated yard to find the source of a persistent drone that was getting louder by the second. When she realized it was coming from overhead, she glanced up at the cloudless sky. The sound seemed to be racing the midmorning sun, and she shaded her eyes to look toward the east. Squinting against the sunlight, she saw a blue-and-yellow biplane barreling toward the Sawyer family farm.
So low it had to be clipping the trees, she thought for sure the plane was going to crash in the front hayfield. As she watched in amazement, it soared no more than six feet over the large white farmhouse, rocking its wings as if the maneuver was an everyday occurrence. It made a graceful loop before coming in to land in a fallow cornfield.
After that, nothing. She wasn’t close enough to see what the pilot was doing, but she knew he had to be her brother Matt’s best man. She’d never met Ridge Collins, and something told her this wouldn’t be your run-of-the-mill introduction.
Marianne put out the last of the ribbon-tied candy bags and headed up to welcome him. Several chickadees chattered at her from their home in one of the eaves as she passed by the flower-draped front porch. She strolled up the gentle slope, assessing the situation as she went. Life had taught her to be cautious, but the man’s unusual appearance had definitely piqued her curiosity.
Just as she topped the rise, the pilot popped up from his seat like a jack-in-the-box, his boots clanging as he descended the ladder attached to the side of the plane. Bracing his hand on the side, he looked underneath, then stepped back and folded his arms. After a few seconds, he was apparently satisfied.
“Thanks for a quick ride, girl,” he said, patting the plane as if it were a horse who’d just given him a good run. “I’m late, so your rubdown will have to wait.”
The man talked to his plane, Marianne thought with a smile. No wonder Matt had never introduced him to the family.
As she approached, she wasn’t sure how to greet him, so she went with something light. “That was quite a landing.”
When he turned to face her, her heart skipped a couple of beats. When it started up again, she had to remind herself to breathe.
He looked like he’d just stepped out of Pearl Harbor, one of her favorite movies. His battered leather jacket had a faded animal on the front, and his threadbare jeans had seen much better days. Mirrored aviator sunglasses completed the image. She could almost hear sweeping orchestra music welcoming the hero home.
A friend from Matt’s wilder days, Ridge held himself with relaxed confidence. Rugged and independent, he was handsome in a rough-and-tumble kind of way. While they stood looking at each other, Marianne wondered how many women had lost their hearts to this man.
Fortunately, logic returned and set her back on her usual even keel. Intriguing as this man might be, she wasn’t one to blindly follow her heart anymore. Her ex-husband had cured her of her romantic streak a long time ago.
* * *
It wasn’t exactly the reception he’d expected.
According to Matt, his tiny North Carolina hometown was full of gossips and busybodies but was the sort of place that greeted everyone with open arms. Even during the years he’d avoided his sad memories of home, Matt had told him how friendly and open his family was.
So Ridge felt a little awkward standing there while this very pretty woman studied him like a specimen on a tray. The breeze ruffled her honey-gold hair, and her icy-blue eyes stared him down like a gunfighter’s. Then he realized he was still wearing his sunglasses.
He dropped them to hang from their braided cord and smiled as he offered his hand. “Ridge Collins.”
She took his hand without hesitation, but he got the feeling her smile was a bit forced. “Marianne Weston. Welcome to Harland.”
It was the kind of tone people reserved for annoying salesmen, but Ridge did his best to ignore it. He was later than he’d promised, after all, and he hadn’t called. In his experience, women hated it when he made excuses.
“Sorry I’m late. The weather got kinda nasty west of here.”
“You put on quite a show coming in that way,” she said as a screen door slammed.
Ridge glanced at the house to find two kids headed their way. The boy was in a gray suit, complete with navy tie. Wearing a pouf of a pink dress, the little girl made him think of a sugarplum fairy. Freshly scrubbed and polished, they looked ready for a wedding. Too bad he didn’t, he chided himself. Then Marianne might have been a little happier to see him.
“A big part of my business is aerial tours,” he explained. “Folks love to see what the old girl can do.”
“Do they?”
Her brittle tone sent up a red flag, and he backpedaled like a center fielder at Yankee Stadium. “Some of ’em.”
She nailed him with a glare. “You scared me half to death, skimming over my house like that.”
“I apologize. I left a big buffer, but it must’ve looked closer from the ground.”
Based on her peeved look, he’d expected more of a lashing. Something apparently changed her mind, though, and her disapproval melted into a beautiful smile. The difference was striking, and he wished he knew which button he’d just pushed. He wouldn’t mind seeing that smile again.
“No harm done, I guess. I’m just glad you got here safely.” She motioned toward the boy standing a respectful couple of feet away. “This is my son, Kyle, and this—” she held an arm out to the adorable princess “—is Emily. Kids, this is Mr. Collins.”
“Ridge is fine.” Reaching out, he shook Kyle’s hand before hunkering down in front of Emily to avoid towering over her. Offering his hand, he grinned. “Your Uncle Matt’s told me a lot about you. It’s nice to finally meet you guys.”
Emily was a miniature version of her mother, and she assessed him with a curious look as she shook his hand. “Ridge is kind of a funny name.”
Marianne clicked her tongue, but Ridge chuckled. “Actually, it’s worse than that. My mom named me for Breckenridge, Colorado, the town we were living in when I was born.” He saw Kyle edging closer, and he glanced up at him. “Good thing we weren’t living in Albuquerque, huh?” he added with a wink.
The kid responded with a gap-toothed grin, then looked pointedly at the plane. “How come your plane has Betsy written on it?”
“She’s named for my grandmother.”
“Why?”
“Well, it was kind of a wreck when Grandpa brought it home. He named it after her so she wouldn’t kill him.”
“What’s this?” Emily asked, pointing at the front of his jacket.
“A wolf.” He shifted to show her the full-size version on the back. “My great-grandfather flew in the Wolf Pack in World War Two.”
“Is this his plane?” Kyle asked, eyes wide with amazement.
“No, but it’s the same kind he trained in.”
Kyle opened his mouth for another question, but his mother cut him off. “I’m sure Mr. Collins is tired from his trip. Why don’t we bring him inside and get him something to eat?”
The mother-hen comment made him remember something. “That sounds great, but I have to make a call first.” He swept a hand in Betsy’s general direction. “Go ahead and have a look.”
The kids didn’t have to be asked twice, and he enjoyed watching them gawk at his pride and joy. When he caught Marianne frowning at the plane, he assumed she was angry with him for landing at the farm. With the wedding only a couple of hours away, he understood.
“Matt said it was okay to fly in here,” he said. “But I can head to the airstrip outside of town if you’d rather.”
“No, it’s fine.” Sighing, she shook her head. “When your response card said you were bringing Betsy, I thought she was your date.”
At first, he didn’t get it. When the significance of the misunderstanding hit him, he felt terrible. “And you ordered her a meal.”
“There was no food preference, so I went with the chicken.”
A laugh was threatening, but she seemed like the serious type, and he didn’t want to insult her. “Sorry about that. I figured Matt would know I was flying out here.”
After a second, humor warmed her eyes to the color of a flawless summer sky. “I guess I should’ve chosen high-test.”
They both laughed, and he was relieved that their awkward first meeting had turned into something more positive.
“Excuse me a minute.” He took his cell phone from the pocket of his jeans. When Marianne started to move away, he waved her back. “No need to leave. Mom was worried about the weather, so I promised to call her when I landed.”
He punched up her number and waited for the call to connect.
“Your mother is number one on your speed dial?” Marianne asked.
He chuckled. “She wouldn’t have it any other way. Hey, there. Yeah, I’m fine.” He paused, then chuckled again. “Yes, I’m telling the truth. Okay, hang on.”
Holding up the phone, he snapped a picture of himself in front of Betsy and hit Send. While he waited for the picture message to go through, he sighed. He loved his mom to pieces, but she worried about him way too much. For her birthday, he’d gotten her a cute fox terrier to dote on, but it hadn’t changed anything. He still flew, and she still worried. It was kind of comforting, in a way. No matter how old he got, he’d always be her boy.
“Believe me now? Good. Give your little ankle biter a treat for me.” He grinned. “Love you more. See you in a couple weeks.”
He hit the off button and noticed Marianne’s expression. Since he’d just met her, he couldn’t be sure about it, but she seemed to like what she’d heard. “Moms. What can you do?”
“We are what we are.”
“I’m real sorry I didn’t call to tell you about my change in plans,” Ridge apologized again.
She waved it away as she took Emily’s hand and turned toward the house. “We’re used to it.”
As he followed Marianne and the kids inside—carrying his duffel bag and suit carrier—Ridge admired the setting for his best friend’s wedding. The garden out front was magazine-perfect, with a rose-covered trellis and round tables scattered around the expansive side yard. Each one was draped in linen and held a vase overflowing with flowers. There were several racks covered in tarps. He assumed they were for the folding chairs, and he made a mental note to help put them away later.
With the kind of efficiency that came from lots of practice, Marianne pulled out snacks and juice boxes, then set glasses and a pitcher of sweet tea on the table. Ridge decided it was best to get out what he wanted to say.
“Matt told me about your father passing last year. I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you,” she said as she’d probably done a million times since his sudden death. Her eyes went to the empty chair at the head of the table. “We really miss him.”
Ridge wished he could say the same about his own father. Unfortunately, when the abusive drunk who’d made his childhood a living nightmare died a few years ago, it took every ounce of compassion he had not to celebrate.
While she sliced up some great-smelling banana bread, he filled glasses with ice and tea for both of them. After a long swallow, he grinned his appreciation. “I’ve been out west the last month. I really missed this stuff.”
That got him a gracious smile. “There’s always plenty, so help yourself.”
“Southern hospitality,” he complimented her as he refilled his glass. “Gotta love it.”
“Don’t get used to it, city boy.”
Ridge glanced over to find Matt Sawyer filling the doorway. Dressed in a gray suit with a buttoned-up white shirt and burgundy tie, Matt looked a lot different from the last time Ridge had seen him. Of course, that had been a trip to Vegas he suspected Matt’s family knew nothing about.
Laughing, Ridge shook his old buddy’s hand. “I won’t, believe me. Betsy and I don’t fare well if we’re in one place too long.”
Matt took the sweet tea Marianne handed him and drained it in three gulps. “Thanks, Mare.”
“When did you finish up the haying last night?”
Matt squinted at the schoolhouse clock on the wall. “Two, I think. There’s a lot more to do, but I’ve done all I can.”
“We need some more help around here,” she commented with a worried frown.
“Can’t afford it. Speaking of help, that reminds me,” he said to Ridge. “I rustled up some dusting contracts for you. Starting with us Monday morning. Did you talk to John?”
“Your little brother said I can stay with him while I’m in town. He was really cool about it.”
“Not much bothers John.” Matt glanced at his sister and apparently read the very obvious disdain on her face. “What?”
She didn’t respond, just stood there with her arms folded and giving him The Look. After a few seconds, understanding dawned, and he chuckled. Ridge didn’t remember Matt having much of a sense of humor, and he suspected the bride had something to do with his buddy’s new lighthearted view of things.
“Forgot to tell you Ridge was staying here, didn’t I?” Matt asked his sister.
“Yes.”
“Sorry.”
He leaned in to kiss her cheek, and she swatted him away with a laugh. “Since you’re getting married today, I’ll let it slide.”
“Come on.” Matt motioned Ridge toward the stairs. “I’ll show you where to get ready.”
As they went up the creaky wooden steps, Ridge said, “So, should I guess from what you were saying to Marianne that things are still pretty tight around here?”
“Tight ain’t the word. We’re better off than some, but not as good as I’d like.”
Ridge knew Matt wouldn’t accept anything more than free labor, but he resolved to find a way to help the Sawyers out a little. He wasn’t exactly swimming in money himself, but maybe he could come up with something.
In the meantime, he could manufacture a pleasant distraction. “I flew over your new house on my way through town. It looks great.”
“Yeah?” Matt opened the door at the end of the upstairs hallway. “I’ve been working so much, I haven’t seen it in daylight since last week.”
“The roof was going on.” Ridge laid his suit carrier across the foot of the bed. “I like the siding. Who decided on light green?”
“We both did. Caty wanted yellow, I wanted blue, so we settled on green.”
Just saying her name eased the tension from his voice, and Ridge congratulated himself on breaking Matt out of his funk.
“You’re really happy, aren’t you?” Ridge asked, even though he knew the answer. It was written all over the guy’s face.
“Yeah.” He added a wry grin. “Me and a lawyer. Who’d’ve figured on that?”
Ridge made a show of thinking that one over, and they both burst out laughing. It was a good start to the day.
* * *
The morning flew by in a blink and before Marianne knew it, she and Lisa were standing in their places waiting for Caty to come down the aisle. Refusing to choose between them, the bride had cleverly solved the problem by making them her “sisters of honor.” Unconventional, but Marianne appreciated her coming up with a solution that wouldn’t hurt anyone’s feelings.
Angling a glance to her right, Marianne decided her little sister looked like a rosebud. They were wearing the same pink dress, but Lisa’s chandelier earrings sparkled in the sunlight, and the tiny roses and baby’s breath she’d eased into her French braid were the perfect touch.
After Emily skipped down the aisle and joined them, Marianne rested a hand on the bouncing flower girl’s shoulder to keep her in one spot. The guitarist strummed the first chords of the wedding march, prompting everyone to stand and look expectantly toward the front porch.
There, beneath swags of roses and hibiscus, the bride smiled up at the father she hadn’t even known a year ago. As they made their way toward the flower-draped arbor, Ridge tapped Matt’s shoulder and leaned in to say something. Whatever it was made her brother grin like an idiot, and Marianne sent up a desperate plea for divine intervention in getting them to behave themselves for just ten more minutes. Since Matt was the oldest Sawyer, she’d never had much luck being a mother hen to him in the past. Still, miracles happened every day.
Like the one that had brought Matt and Caty together in the first place.
In the past year, they’d navigated a long, rough road. Now they stood in the same spot where her parents, Ethan and Jan Sawyer, were married thirty-five years ago. The couple repeated their vows back to Pastor Charles in clear, confident voices. Despite their obvious differences, Marianne believed with all her heart that they really were meant for each other.
She wished their parents had lived long enough to see Matt so happy.
A warm breeze rustled through the roses climbing over the archway, releasing the sweet scent of the pink-and-white blossoms to mix with the hyacinth and jasmine in the garden surrounding them. Fifty-three guests were there, smiling and snapping pictures from every angle. Today really was perfect, she thought with a smile. She couldn’t have asked for anything more.
When Matt turned to Ridge for Caty’s ring, Marianne’s sunny mood took a sudden dive. The best man’s crazy—and unexpected—arrival had put her more on edge than she needed to be. As if she didn’t have enough to worry about, now she’d have a stranger wandering around the farm for the next two weeks until he headed back to Colorado. She’d get Matt for that one, she promised herself.
After less than a minute with Ridge, she’d pegged him as disorganized and cocky. Although she had to admit the phone call to his mom had netted him some points. A grown man who so obviously loved his mother couldn’t be all bad.
And no woman with a pulse could help noticing that his tall, solid frame looked as good in his crisp gray suit as it had in jeans and a leather bomber jacket. Or that his hazel eyes had little flecks of gold in them that sparkled in the sunlight.
Unfortunately, Peter Weston had taught her that looks could be crushingly deceiving. And despite all of Ridge’s good points, Marianne couldn’t get past the aggravation he’d already caused her. Coming in late with a crazy flying display that nearly gave her a heart attack was just the start. Then there was the mock RSVP that caused her to waste money on a catered meal for his plane. No doubt about it, Marianne decided as the ceremony wound down.
Ridge Collins was walking trouble.
While Matt and Caty sealed their vows with a long kiss, everyone stood to applaud and cheer. Caty turned, and Marianne dutifully handed over her bouquet of pink-and-white roses.
“We’ve been friends forever, and now we’re sisters!” Caty exclaimed, embracing first Marianne and then Lisa. “How cool is that?”
“Very cool,” Lisa agreed as the two of them exchanged a very unladylike high five.
“Excuse me.” Matt stepped in and tapped his new bride on the shoulder.
When he motioned down the aisle, she laughed and took his arm to make their ceremonial first walk as man and wife. After they rounded the corner of the house, he swept her up in a hug, giving her a kiss that seemed to go on forever.
When she realized she was spying on them, Marianne turned away to give them some privacy.
And straight into the best man.
Ridge offered her his arm. Still agitated by her conflicting impressions of him, she quickly invented an excuse for not taking it. “The kids are saving you a seat, so go ahead and sit down. I’ll join you after I see if the caterers need anything.”
“Sure. Let me know if I can help.”
People were settling in for their meal, and she watched the new Mr. and Mrs. Sawyer make their way through the garden, stopping at each table to talk with their guests. Tears stung her eyes, and she took a deep breath to calm her churning emotions. She was happy for them. Thrilled, actually. She wouldn’t let her baffling reaction to the best man or memories of her own failed marriage ruin this day for two people she loved so much.
She’d had her chance, and it hadn’t worked out. That didn’t mean Matt and Caty were destined for heartache.
Please, God, she prayed silently. Bless them with a long, happy life together.
* * *
Late that afternoon, Matt and Caty said goodbye to their last wedding guest. Marianne expected them to be as exhausted as she was, but they seemed to have caught a second wind. After hugs and thank-you’s for everyone, they climbed into Matt’s enormous blue pickup. Streamers and cans flying along behind them, they drove around the circular drive, waving out the windows before heading toward the main road in a cloud of dust.
The silence they left behind was deafening.
The family just stood there, watching the truck go down the highway until it disappeared over a hill. For fifteen years, they’d waited and prayed for Matt to come back from wherever his wanderlust had taken him. Their father’s unexpected death had finally brought him home, and Caty’s love had kept him there.
But now he was gone. Oh, he’d still be in Harland, but he’d be living with Caty in their new house. The family would see him while he was working at the farm, maybe for a meal now and then. But his heart belonged to Caty, and he wanted to be with her—should be with her. The rest of them would have to adjust, but Marianne knew it wouldn’t be easy.
“They’ll be back,” she said out loud, as much to herself as to anyone else. “Two weeks isn’t that long.”
“It’s forever,” Emily moaned, her chin trembling while she stared down at her wilting bouquet.
Marianne swept her up for a comforting embrace. “They’ll be back before you know it. Everything will be just fine.”
“You’re set if I go, right?” Lisa asked. “I’m beat.”
“The servers are handling the cleanup,” Marianne replied, giving her a quick hug. “Thanks for all your help.”
“No problem. Ridge, it was nice to meet you.” Shaking his hand, she added her usual dazzling smile. “If you get hungry, I work at Ruthy’s Place on Main Street. We’ll fix you up with some honest-to-goodness home cooking.”
“Do I look like I need it?” he asked.
“Every man does,” she retorted.
“Ruthy, as in Ruth Benton, the amazing chef who catered the wedding?”
“The very same. You come in, I’ll set you up.” Flashing him another smile, she sauntered over to her car and gracefully slid into the driver’s seat.
After her sister’s flirtatious exit, Marianne snuck a look at Ridge, fully expecting to find him watching Lisa go. Pretty and carefree, Lisa was a starry-eyed dreamer who adored people, men especially. Males of all ages were drawn to her sunny personality. They just couldn’t help it.
Not this one, though. To Marianne’s amazement, he was engrossed in a discussion with Kyle about the faulty motor on his remote control helicopter. Something about servos was all she understood.
“I’m done, too,” John announced, stooping to kiss Marianne’s cheek. “You sure do throw a great wedding.”
As he strolled down the lane toward the converted carriage house he lived in, she shook her head. A ratty pair of sneakers had replaced his good shoes, and he’d shed his jacket and tie sometime during the day.
Because their mother had died when he was only five, Marianne had mothered him since childhood, and he still counted on her to look after him. Later, she’d find his missing clothes and get them cleaned, but this time she’d give him the bill. He was almost thirty, and it was time for him to start doing more on his own.
Right now, she had company. Still holding Emily, she turned to Ridge. “Come on inside. I’ll fix us a snack.”
“I had enough from that buffet to last me a week,” he replied, patting his stomach. “I’d love some more of that lemonade, though.”
They headed up the back porch steps with the kids, and he stepped in front of her to pull open the screen door. Thanking him, she set Emily down in the kitchen.
“Emily, where are your pretty new shoes?” she asked as Kyle snagged some chocolate chip cookies from the jar in the middle of the table. He thought he was being sneaky, but he’d been so good all day, she let it go.
Innocent blue eyes looked up at her. “In the pond.”
“Why?”
“They were hurting my feet.”
While she was counting to ten, Marianne noticed the red streak on her daughter’s dress. “What’s this?”
Emily glanced down like the spill was news to her. “Punch.”
She really didn’t have the energy for this, Marianne thought, swallowing a sigh that would only make matters worse. “Go take it off and bring it down for me. If we soak it, we might be able to get the stain out.”
The suggestion earned her a world-class pout, and Emily wrapped her arms protectively around herself. “No. I like my dress.”
“I do, too. I want to get it clean so you can wear it again.”
Now those sweet eyes glared up at her defiantly. “No.”
It had been a long day for all of them, and Marianne had finally reached the end of her patience. “Emily Rose—”
“Hey, Emmy,” Kyle interrupted, “I’m goin’ swimming. Wanna come?”
How he’d inhaled those cookies so fast was beyond Marianne. But his idea made Emily forget the argument, and she nodded enthusiastically.
“Let’s go put our suits on,” he said. “I’ll race you!”
Squealing, she took off with him trailing close behind her. Typical Kyle, he let her win the race upstairs. Two bedroom doors slammed shut, and a couple minutes later Marianne heard the front screen door squeak open. She looked out the window to see Emily tearing across the lawn toward the pond. Another set of footsteps pounded down the stairs, and Kyle reappeared in the kitchen, grinning as he handed over the stained dress.
“Here you go, Mom. Good luck.”
“Wait for me before you hit the water!”
He waved without turning around, and she felt silly for saying it. As responsible as most adults, Kyle knew the rules, and he followed them to the letter. Her little man, Marianne thought proudly. Every day she thanked God for sending him to her.
Emily was hollering his name, and he yelled for her to run out to the barn to spring his dog. They came back into view with Tucker barking excitedly as he ran circles around them and begged for attention from Kyle, then Emily, then Kyle again.
“Whew,” Ridge commented as he dropped into a chair at the table. “Is it always like that around here?”
Marianne smiled as she opened the fridge and poured them both some lemonade. “With the wedding, they’re a little more wound up than usual. Now that school’s out, things should calm down a little. I’m a teacher, so I’ll be off with them all summer. Lots of their friends end up here, which makes it fun.”
He chuckled. “I’ll bet.”
Of course, she wasn’t entirely certain she still had a job. Her teaching position was a one-year contract filling in for Kathy Walsh, who’d been on leave recovering from back surgery. Kathy would return in the fall, and Marianne was waiting anxiously to find out if Harland Elementary had a spot for her. If not, she had to find one somewhere else. With budget cuts and declining enrollment throughout the area, that wouldn’t be easy.
Pushing the worry from her mind, she set their glasses on the table and plopped down across from Ridge. Slipping off her grass-stained pink satin shoes, she crossed her feet on another chair and took a long swallow of the first thing she’d actually tasted all day. “Mmm.”
“Your kids are fantastic, Marianne,” Ridge said. “Emily could charm a statue, and Kyle’s something else.”
Like the proud mother she was, she smiled at the praise. “Yeah, he is. I don’t know what Emily and I would do without him.”
Emily’s dress was still sitting on the counter where Kyle had thrown it. Marianne had just gotten comfortable, but she knew if she didn’t get it soaking, the punch stain would never come out. Reluctantly, she stood and crossed the kitchen to get the stain remover from its handy place on the ledge over the sink. With two active kids, she used it frequently.
“Just so you know,” Ridge continued, “Matt said I could keep Betsy here and use his bike if I need it.”
Rubbing the remover into the delicate fabric, she chuckled at her big brother’s forgetfulness. “Of course he did.”
“I know she’s not your usual houseguest. I can rent some hangar space at the airstrip if that works better.”
“It’s not a problem. We have plenty of room.”
While she rinsed the fabric in cold water, Marianne tried to keep her expression neutral. A grin slowly spread across Ridge’s tanned face, and she knew she hadn’t quite managed it.
“You don’t like chaos, do you?”
“Not really,” she admitted.
“Funny how Matt never mentioned that.”
“It must have slipped his mind.” Like telling her his best man would drive her completely bonkers the minute she met him.
Chuckling again, Ridge shook his head. “Caty’s really gotten to him, hasn’t she?”
The way he phrased it, it sounded romantic and sweet, even a little exciting. But Marianne couldn’t muster more than a faint hum of agreement as she applied more stain remover to Emily’s dress.
“You’re not happy about them getting married?” Ridge asked, clearly—and understandably—perplexed.
“I’m very happy.”
“But?”
Hoping to steer him away from the uncomfortable subject, she decided to keep it vague. Setting the dress in the sink, she turned to face him while she wiped her hands on a towel. “Things don’t always work out the way we want them to.”
“That’s true. I’m divorced myself.”
He said it matter-of-factly, as if it weren’t a big deal. Divorce was against everything she believed in, a broken promise to God. Five years later, she still hadn’t come to terms with her failed marriage.
“You look upset,” Ridge sympathized.
Completely forgetting her manners, she shot back, “And you don’t. Why is that?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes things don’t work out. My wife wanted a different life, and I let her go find it. We’re both happier now,” he added, as if that made everything okay.
Appalled by his casual attitude, Marianne glared at him. “The vows are �until death do us part,’ not �until things don’t work out.’”
Ridge studied her for a few seconds, compassion etching his features. “I’m guessing your ex is the one who left. Could you have stopped him?”
“Yes,” she retorted immediately, even though she knew it wasn’t true. She’d come home to find Peter’s wedding ring on the counter wrapped around a note that read I want a divorce—Peter.
Ridge slowly shook his head. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”
His perceptiveness was more than a little unnerving. She’d never met a man so adept at reading people, and she didn’t know what to think.
Eager to end their pointless conversation, she said, “I don’t mean to seem rude, but the kids are waiting for me.”
“I wouldn’t mind a dunk myself. Mind if I come along?”
“Not at all.”
Cocking his head, he grinned at her. “You’re just being polite, aren’t you?”
Caught in the half lie, she smiled. Ridge’s open, forthright manner made her want to strangle him one minute and laugh the next. “I was, but now I mean it. You’re welcome to come with me,” she added as she headed out the side door.
When they saw her on the side steps, Kyle and Emily raced down the dock and dove into the pond. His feathery tail going a mile a minute, Tucker anxiously waited on the bank, watching the kids. Once he was satisfied they were ready, the black Lab barreled down the dock like a furry jet and launched himself into the water.
The cool grass felt heavenly on her tired feet, and Marianne walked down the dock and settled on the end to dangle them in the water. Ridge stretched out beside her, but gave her plenty of space. After their far-too-personal chat, she appreciated the gesture.
“Watch me, Mommy!” Emily called out, dog-paddling toward the opposite bank for all she was worth.
“Great job,” Marianne said. “All that practice is really paying off.”
“I want Kyle to toss me, but he won’t.”
“Next year, Emmy,” he promised. “You hafta be seven for that.”
And able to swim back to the surface, Marianne added silently. Still, she was grateful to Kyle for handling his little sister so deftly. Emily adored him, and she wanted to do what he did. Sometimes they had to hold her back because she refused to accept that she couldn’t keep up with him. Marianne always got an argument or, at the very least, a first-class pout. Kyle managed to slide bad news past his little sister with a diplomatic flair that would come in handy at the United Nations.
After a while, Tucker climbed from the pond and shook out his fur. Ridge greeted him, and the dog flopped onto his back in a less-than-subtle pose. Laughing, Ridge rubbed the lab’s wet belly.
Since he hadn’t spoken to her, Marianne decided it was up to her to start a more pleasant discussion. She decided to go with something less emotional than weddings and divorces. “So, tell me about your date.”
He laughed at her joke. “Betsy’s a 1941 Stearman. Grandpa towed it home with most of the parts missing or in boxes. We spent the better part of five years putting her back together.”
“You and your granddad built that airplane?”
* * *
They both turned at the sound of Kyle’s voice. Elbows braced on the dock, his hazel eyes were round with admiration. He’d been following Ridge around like a puppy all day, and Ridge was surprised to find he liked the attention. It’s not that he didn’t like kids, he just never gave them much thought. This bright, curious boy had definitely impressed him.
“That’s so cool,” Kyle said with a wide-open grin.
“Yeah, it was.”
Unlike the dark images of his wreck of a father, Ridge had great memories of time spent with his grandparents. He and his mother’s father were more alike than not, and they had a blast working together. Everything he needed to know about being a real man, Ridge had learned from Grandpa.
“It sounds like flying is your family business,” Marianne said.
Since he didn’t have many warm, fuzzy stories to tell, talk of family always put him on shaky ground. As usual, Ridge focused on the positives. “After World War One, my great-great-grandfather flew all around the Midwest as a barnstormer. They put on some great shows back then, aerial tricks and wing-walking, all kinds of stunts.”
“It’s in your blood, then,” she commented. “Like this farm’s in ours.”
“I guess so.” Emily had paddled over to join them, and Ridge smiled from one kid to the other. “I’ll bet this is a great place to grow up.”
“The best,” Kyle agreed as the kids climbed the ladder and sat on the towels spread on the dock beside their mother. “Where do you live?”
Ridge thought for a second, trying to simplify his complicated history. “I’m from Colorado, as I said earlier, but I’ve lived all over. California, Montana, Texas. I spent most of last year in Alaska.”
“Alaska?” Kyle echoed. “What did you do there?”
“I was a bush pilot. Took people out on wilderness tours, delivered supplies to the way-out villages, stuff like that.”
“Why do you move so much?” Emily asked.
No one had ever asked him that quite so directly. Maybe, like Marianne, adults figured it was too personal a question. “I like to explore different places, I guess.”
“I like it here,” Kyle said simply. “Someday this place will be ours. Right, Mom?”
“Definitely,” she assured him with a proud smile.
Kyle nudged his sister’s shoulder. “We’re gonna take real good care of it, aren’t we, Emmy?”
Emily’s vivid blue eyes glowed with brother worship, and she nodded somberly. She probably had no idea what she was agreeing to, but it was about the cutest thing Ridge had ever seen.
“How old are you again?” Ridge teased Kyle.
“Ten and a quarter.”
Impressed by the very precise way he gave his age, Ridge recognized the serious demeanor from his own childhood. He knew firsthand that when dads were out of the picture, little boys grew up fast. Sadly, his own experience had taught him there were worse things than an absent father.
Pushing those memories aside, he smiled at Emily. “How ’bout you, sweetness?”
“Oooh, I like that name,” she cooed. “I never had a special name before.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
Score one for the new guy, Ridge thought with a grin. Welcoming as the Sawyers had been, he still felt like an outsider looking in on the close circle of their family. Because he moved around so much, he was used to that. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out why it was bothering him all of a sudden.
Pulling her Cinderella towel around her shoulders, Emily said, “I’m six. I was born a long way away from here.”
“Really? Where?”
Emily glanced up at her mother, who nodded. “Chicago. Daddy didn’t want us, so me and Mommy and Kyle came back here to be with Granddad.” She frowned. “He’s with Gramma in heaven now.”
Marianne smoothed her hair with a comforting hand, and Kyle put an arm around Emily’s shoulders for a quick squeeze. The way she’d skimmed over her father’s rejection of them just about stopped Ridge’s heart. While he’d already guessed that Marianne’s ex had left them, it hadn’t occurred to him just how much that would have affected her children.
What kind of man pushed away a beautiful woman and fantastic kids like these? Emily’s revelation made the Westons’ family situation painfully clear to Ridge, but he reminded himself that it was none of his business.
“Your uncle Matt told me all about your granddad,” he said gently. “He sounds like a great guy. I wish I could’ve met him.”
What would his life have been like if he’d had a generous, loving father like Ethan Sawyer? Grandpa did his best to fill the void, but all his life Ridge had known he was missing out on something. Since there was no remedy for his very flawed past, he did what he always did when thoughts like that popped up. He pushed them aside and focused on the here and now.
“We miss him all the time,” Emily continued sadly. “We loved him a lot.”
“I love my grandpa, too. He taught me everything I know.”
“Like what?” Kyle asked.
“Like how to pick off a runner at first base or throw a good, tight spiral with a football. How to fix an engine. How to fly,” he added with a fond smile. “All the important stuff.”
He almost expected Kyle to ask about his father. He braced himself for it, but the question never came. Young as he was, Kyle struck him as an old soul who understood more than any ten-year-old should. Ridge wondered if somehow the kid sensed that they shared father trouble and had decided to give him a break.
“I hate to do this, but we need to get you two into some dry clothes.” Marianne stood and held her arms out for them. For Ridge, she had a gracious smile. “Are you hungry yet?”
Remembering the manners Mom had pounded into him all his life, Ridge got to his feet. While he appreciated Marianne’s hospitality, he sensed that after the long day she’d had, she wouldn’t mind some time alone. “Actually, I need to do a few things with Betsy. Thanks, though.”
“The offer stands. My kitchen’s always open.”
As the three of them walked toward the house, their voices trailed back to him, punctuated by the kids’ laughter. Despite her gracious behavior, anyone could see that Marianne was exhausted. All day, she’d been a real trouper, managing one thing after another with a lovely smile he suspected had taken her years to perfect.
Did women practice that kind of look? Ridge wondered as he strolled toward Betsy’s makeshift runway. Came in handy when they decided it was time to cut you loose but didn’t want to mortally wound you. He had no trouble imagining the very proper Marianne Weston dismissing a guy that way.
A rose with thorns, he mused as he pulled his tool kit from Betsy’s storage compartment. Grabbing what he needed, he began degreasing the rebuilt engine he’d installed last month. Full of original parts and expertly machined reproductions, it had cost him a small fortune. But, with care, it would last for years. Like anyone else, Betsy was at her best when she got the attention she needed.
Speaking of which, Tucker trotted over and sat in front of Ridge, shamelessly begging for some love. Ridge hunkered down and fluffed his damp ears. “You’re quite the character. Dogs don’t usually take to me so quickly.”
The Lab cocked his head with a curious look, and Ridge laughed. “You don’t know you’re a dog, do you?”
In response, Tucker yipped and spun a quick circle before taking off for the woods. As Ridge watched him go, he took a minute to admire the Sawyer homestead. Over two thousand acres, Matt had informed him proudly when he’d asked about it. The land had been in the family since the mid-1800s, and every square inch was obviously worked with care, even the fallow field he’d used as a landing strip.
A well-worn dirt path wound past John’s cottage and up to the main house. There it joined up with a wide driveway that split two rows of fence and trees on its way out to the road. Ridge could tell from the structure of the walls that the original farmhouse had been expanded over the decades as the Sawyers needed more space. Each outer door led to a generous porch, but the front one was the showstopper.
Draped in ivy, trellises ran top to bottom to support every color of climbing rose he could imagine. Thanks to his grandmother, he knew enough about gardens to recognize that those flowers weren’t trucked in as wedding decorations. They grew there year-round, tended as meticulously as the inside of the immaculate house.
That was Marianne’s doing, he knew without being told. She struck him as organized and disciplined, caring for everyone and everything around her. Instinctively, he knew she was someone who took charge and made sure things got done. Like him in some ways—vastly different in others.
Based on the few words they’d exchanged since he arrived, she didn’t seem the least bit interested in him. That was actually a relief, Ridge thought with a sigh. Life had taught him that he was the kind of person who withered when he stayed in one place too long. He’d tried it more than once and failed every time, managing to hurt himself and the people he cared about most.
As soon as he finished the dusting contracts Matt had thrown his way, he and Betsy would be back in the air where they belonged.
Chapter Two
Sunday morning, Marianne woke up bright and early. The house was silent, and outside her window she could hear the birds enjoying the misty sunshine. The kids were still sleeping after the busy wedding day, and she opted to leave them be until breakfast was ready.
Today would be much calmer than yesterday, and she decided to take advantage of the quiet. The chair she’d rocked Emily in as a baby still sat next to the window, and a breeze came through to flutter the sheer curtains around it. It was an inviting sight, so she sat down and picked up her devotional book from the side table. The next lesson started with a line from Corinthians.
Let all that you do be done in love.
Quotes followed from various people—some pastors, other regular folks with inspiring stories to tell. Marianne read through them but nothing resonated with her. While she appreciated the general idea of doing even small things with a loving heart, for some reason she couldn’t focus on the words long enough for them to make a solid impression.
Despite her best efforts, her mind kept wandering back to Ridge’s unusual arrival. In her memory she saw him climbing down from his plane, turning to face her for the first time. Despite her best efforts to be merely polite, she had to be honest with herself.
The man fascinated her.
Cocky and self-assured, he seemed to assume that people would like him just as he was. She’d had that kind of confidence once. Back before her marriage had disintegrated and stripped away everything she’d thought was so solid.
Seeing Ridge’s eyes sparkle while he told them about his ancestors’ exciting adventures explained why he enjoyed flying so recklessly. Maybe it was in his blood, maybe he was imitating men he admired, but their courageous example had helped make him who he was. More than that, she knew he was proud of those men. Despite his gypsy-like lifestyle, Ridge’s family history meant something to him.
Now that she owned the home Daniel Sawyer had built so many generations ago, Marianne’s connection to her own family’s past was stronger than ever. She could certainly appreciate that in someone else.
The clock on her night table told her it was time to get moving. On her way to the bathroom, she glanced into each of the kids’ rooms to find them sound asleep. After her shower, she put on her new blue dress and quickly pulled her hair into a twist. She added Grandma Sawyer’s beautiful pearl choker and earrings but left her feet bare. They were still sore from yesterday, and she decided there was plenty of time to wedge them into a pair of heels later on.
When she was ready, Marianne tiptoed downstairs to sneak in a little more peace and quiet before things went haywire. The programmed coffeemaker was already brewing, so she went to the fridge to pull out the egg-and-sausage casserole she’d made for this morning. Setting the oven, she slid the pan in and walked out to get the newspaper.
The headlines never seemed to change all that much, she mused as she poured coffee into a mug proclaiming her Best Mom Ever. She was in the middle of reading a book review when Ridge stumbled through the back door. He looked like he hadn’t slept a wink.
“Coffee,” he croaked. “Please.”
Trying to be polite, she did her best not to smile, but he looked so pathetic she couldn’t help herself. To make up for it, she got up to fill a mug for him. “Rough night?”
Dropping into a chair, he answered with a huge yawn. “John snores like a freight train. Around three, I gave up and went to get my headphones out of Betsy so I could get some sleep.” He swallowed two sips in rapid succession. “Excellent coffee.”
“Thank you.”
Men liked it strong, so she always added an extra scoop. What she didn’t tell him was she blended French vanilla in with the regular. If he found out, she knew he’d never drink another cup.
When Ridge seemed a little more coherent, she asked, “So, what do you think of Caty?”
“She’s great.”
The gold in his hazel eyes twinkled mischievously, telling her that was all she was getting. He wasn’t going to come right out and admit that Matt had told him nothing about the woman who was now his wife.
“You never met her before yesterday?” Marianne tried again.
“Nope, but Matt loves her. That’s good enough for me.”
In her experience, men didn’t normally take emotions at face value that way. They needed proof, numbers—things like that. “You have a lot of faith in him.”
“Yeah, I do.” Curiosity lit his eyes, and he leaned toward her. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” His direct gaze made her want to squirm, and she fiddled with the handle on her mug to avoid it.
“Matt and John get along, don’t they?”
“Very well. Why?” She met his gaze.
“So why didn’t he ask his little brother to be his best man?”
“John didn’t want to do it,” she explained. “He said it would cramp his style at the reception.”
“Right.” Ridge dragged the word out in a sarcastic tone.
This man was really starting to irritate her. One minute he was a total charmer, and the next he was a cynic. “What are you saying?”
“I think Matt’s trying to set us up.”
“That’s crazy,” she protested. “Why would he do that?”
“You know how it is when a friend gets married. They want everybody to be as happy as they are.”
“Matt wouldn’t do that.”
Ridge cocked one disbelieving brow and, far-fetched as the idea seemed, she had to admit he could be right. Matt had changed a lot since Caty came into his life. It was possible he wanted to introduce his old friend to his little sister and had used the wedding as an excuse to get them together. But why Ridge Collins? she moaned silently. She was rooted in Harland with her children, and this free-spirited pilot flew wherever the wind took him, doing whatever he pleased. They had absolutely nothing in common.
Hoping to change the subject, she sipped her coffee. “Why didn’t you come in for supper last night?”
“I didn’t wanna impose on you and the kids.”
She sighed. Apparently, she hadn’t been as gracious yesterday as she’d intended. Setting her coffee down, she swallowed her pride. “I’m sorry about coming down on you about your divorce. I had no right to judge you that way.”
“Don’t worry about it. You didn’t say anything I haven’t thought a million times in the last two years.”
He was being so nice about it, she felt even worse. But he seemed content with putting it behind them, so she decided to follow his lead. “We’ve got eggs and sausage for breakfast. Would you like some?”
“Thanks, but no. I’ve got work to do, and I’d best get started.”
“We all go to church on Sunday mornings,” she commented lightly. “You could come along if you want.”
“I appreciate the invite, but it’s not really my thing.” Draining his mug, he stood and smiled down at her. “You make fantastic coffee.”
Marianne tried very hard not to criticize people, but his lack of interest in attending Sunday service annoyed her. As their guest, it would only be polite for him to accompany them to church. But if she’d learned anything about Ridge in the short time she’d known him, it was that he did exactly what suited him, no matter what other people might think. In her mind, it wasn’t one of his better qualities.
As he headed for the door, she asked, “When will you be back?”
“Later.”
“For lunch?”
A heavy cloud seemed to descend over his usually lighthearted demeanor, and he frowned. “I’ll be back when I’m done.”
“I’m not trying to rope you into anything. I just want to know how many people I have to feed.”
“That’s nice of you, but I take care of myself.”
With that, he all but fled the kitchen and pounded down the back steps. Completely exasperated, Marianne grabbed his empty cup and rinsed it before putting it in the dishwasher. Still fuming, she started pulling dishes from the cupboard.
“I take care of myself,” she mimicked as John came through the back door. She didn’t know how he did it, but he always managed to show up just when the food was ready.
“Lemme guess.” He grinned at her. “Ridge.”
“I was trying to be considerate, and he brushed me off.”
“He’s not used to having folks waiting on him for meals and stuff.” Very predictably, John defended him. “He kind of does his own thing.”
“That’s obvious,” she retorted as Lisa came through the door.
“What’s obvious?” Lisa asked, picking up the plates from the counter to set around the table.
“Ridge does his own thing,” John explained with a grin. “It drives the queen crazy.”
“I noticed that yesterday,” Lisa commented with a grin of her own. “Quite a few sparks there.”
“No.” Marianne pointed a stern finger at her starry-eyed little sister. “No sparks. Irritation and aggravation, but no sparks.”
“Still irritated and aggravated.” John dragged the sports section loose, which fanned the rest of the neatly folded paper across the table.
“I’ll say,” Lisa agreed. “She couldn’t care less about any of the guys around here. What’s so special about Ridge?”
“Not a thing,” Marianne shot back.
“Sure,” Lisa scoffed, adding a laugh that grated on Marianne’s nerves.
Fortunately, the kids came trotting down the stairs, and Marianne announced, “I think I’ll make waffles to go with that casserole. Who wants some?”
“Me.” Without looking up, John raised his hand while he and Kyle scanned last night’s baseball scores.
“I’ll help you, Mommy,” Emily offered eagerly, skipping into the pantry to get her ruffly white apron from its hook.
The familiar routine helped soothe her frayed nerves, and Marianne settled in to enjoy breakfast with her family.
* * *
“Such a beautiful wedding,” the Sunday school teacher complimented Marianne when she dropped Kyle and Emily off for their class. “It couldn’t have been more perfect, could it?”
Marianne agreed with her, as she had with everyone who’d said the exact same thing to her this morning. “Everything worked out just the way we wanted.”
After saying goodbye to the kids, Marianne went upstairs to join John and Lisa. While she was near the back of the church, Pastor Charles hurried over and intercepted her.
“Marianne, I want to thank you again for including Penny and me in your celebration yesterday. We really enjoyed ourselves.”
“Oh, I’m glad,” she replied with a genuine smile. The jovial man in the gray suit and paisley bow tie had married her parents and baptized them all. He held a special place in the Sawyers’ hearts. “That was the plan.”
“If you don’t mind...” Leaning in, he whispered, “My wife wants the recipe for your double-berry pie. I promised her I’d ask.”
Marianne laughed. “It’s one of our favorites, too. I’ll email it to her later today.”
“Bless you.” Beaming, he patted his ample stomach. “Not that I need any more of it, mind you, but I sure do enjoy it.”
After thanking her again, he turned and headed for the pulpit. The white church wasn’t large, and this morning it was standing-room only. Fortunately, John and Lisa had saved Marianne a seat. Looking around, she greeted everyone nearby with a smile. After starting her morning wrangling with Ridge, seeing all these familiar faces gave her a calm, contented feeling.
As she sat down, Lisa grinned. “We’re the talk of the town.”
“Better watch it, Mare,” John teased. “You’ll end up as the Harland wedding planner.”
“Not a chance. One was more than enough.”
“What about us?” Lisa asked, puffing out her lower lip in a slightly more grown-up version of Emily’s famous pout. “We’re gonna need your help, too.”
If her flirtatious baby sister ever settled on one man, Marianne would be amazed. If John someday found the girl who could lasso his roving heart, she’d be stunned. Then again, she’d never imagined Matt settling down, either. God had stepped in on that one, for sure, so it was entirely possible He’d do it again.
Buoyed by the thought, she smiled. “Okay. Two more, but that’s it.”
“Till Kyle and Emily,” Lisa said.
“Please.” Marianne groaned, only half joking. “Don’t marry my babies off just yet. I’m not ready.”
Laughing, Lisa put an arm around her shoulders and hugged her. “Deal.”
The affectionate gesture felt especially good this morning. Marianne was still unsettled, and she wasn’t sure why. She kept telling herself it was the prospect of adjusting to life at the farm without Matt, but she knew that wasn’t quite right. Accustomed to reasoning things through, she wasn’t adept at listening to her instincts. But she was smart enough to know they were trying to tell her something.
She just couldn’t figure out what it was.
The organist began with the opening chords of “How Great Thou Art,” and they all stood to sing. It was one of her favorite hymns, the first she’d learned after “Jesus Loves Me.” The comforting verses always made her think of her parents. Despite her mother’s tragic illness, her parents’ unshakable faith in God and each other had shown her what true love was all about.
Now that they were both gone, she found herself turning to God even more often, relying on His strength in addition to her own. She had to be strong, to make sure Kyle and Emily wouldn’t miss the father who’d abandoned them and never looked back.
As she had since she was a little girl, she stared at the stained-glass window over the altar, admiring the vibrant colors of Jesus and the animals surrounding Him. To her, that picture represented His infinite wisdom and endless compassion for every creature on earth. The hymn came to an end, and she felt her tangled thoughts starting to unravel.
Despite her still-baffling mood and the uncertainty about her job, a genuine peace settled over Marianne’s heart, and tears of gratitude stung her eyes. She knew God saw every struggling sparrow, but it was nice to be reminded that He saw her, too.
* * *
They were all sitting down to lunch when the distant buzz of Ridge’s plane interrupted their conversation.
“Can we go out and watch him land?” Kyle asked, already halfway out of his chair.
A hundred percent male, he loved anything that went fast: Matt’s Harley, John’s Triumph convertible, now Ridge’s plane. She had to accept it, Marianne reminded herself. Her little boy was growing up, and she loved him too much to hold him back.
Hoping her sudden funk didn’t show, she smiled. “Let’s all go.”
With an excited whoop, he took off like a shot with Emily on his heels and the rest of them trailing behind. The kids ran down the lane until Marianne warned them to stop so they wouldn’t be too close to Betsy’s landing strip.
Goodness, she berated herself. Now she was calling the plane by name. Clearly, Ridge’s nuttiness was contagious.
After a minute or two, she noticed that Ridge wasn’t coming in to land. He was skimming low over their planted cornfields, spraying dust that would keep bugs and rot from destroying the crops as they grew. At the end of each long row, the plane looked like it couldn’t possibly pull up soon enough to avoid crashing into the woods. Yet somehow, Betsy made it every time.
“That’s so awesome!” Kyle exclaimed, pointing into the distance so Emily could follow the runs. “Ridge must be the best pilot in the world.”
Marianne didn’t know much about flying, but she admired his skill. He made the little plane dive like a hawk, then rise gracefully back into the air to circle around for another pass. Even though she had no desire to take a ride, she couldn’t help wondering what the sprawling Sawyer Farm looked like from the air.
Ridge must have spotted them all standing there, because the plane banked and came toward the house. Waving from the open cockpit, he rocked the wings back and forth. Screaming and waving back, the kids jumped up and down with delight. She saw him grin before whipping into a full barrel roll that took him over their heads and perilously close to the tops of the trees.
“He’s going to crash in the woodlot,” she predicted in a tight voice.
“Nah,” John assured her with a grin. “Ridge knows what he’s doing.”
Marianne wasn’t convinced of that. But she was certain that he’d once again turned her very carefully planned schedule upside down. “He was supposed to dust here tomorrow.”
“Does it really matter?” John asked.
“I close the windows when they dust,” she explained, “and make sure the kids aren’t here while all that pesticide is floating around.”
“We really liked it, Mommy,” Emily added, looking up at her brother. “Didn’t we, Kyle?”
“Yeah,” he breathed, eyes fixed on the plane as it looped around and came to rest on its makeshift runway. “Ridge is so lucky, being able to do that.”
Even though she’d never admit it to anyone, Marianne couldn’t agree more. With her own confidence in tatters, she admired the courage Ridge showed in the air and on the ground. Fearless and confident, he seemed to assume that things would work out for the best. His fun-loving personality showed when he flipped the plane like it was a kite and began his descent.
She was grateful for the life she and her children enjoyed, settled in this safe, cozy place. But she couldn’t help wondering how it felt to have the wind rushing past you while you flew through the clouds, free as a bird.
* * *
To avoid damaging the field any more than he had to, Ridge brought Betsy to a gentle stop in the same marks he’d already made. As he shut the engine down, he looked out to see a line of people headed his way, the kids running in front. He was seldom in one place more than a few weeks, so people didn’t usually make such a fuss over him. Between the wedding and today, he’d gotten more attention than he had in the last six months. For a habitual wanderer like him, it was kind of fun.
“That was awesome!” Kyle said approvingly with a huge grin. “Did you see us waving?”
“Sure did.” Ridge smiled at him and then Emily. “I wasn’t putting on a show for the corn, y’know.”
While John complimented him, Ridge was only half listening. He was more curious about the expression on Marianne’s face. He was used to women being impressed with him, or at least with his flying. The problem was, she didn’t look impressed.
She looked annoyed.
For the life of him, he couldn’t imagine why. Then she filled in the blanks for him.
“I thought you were dusting tomorrow.”
Her clipped tone told him she was irritated with the change in plans, and he waited a beat to make sure he sounded professional. “The forecast is for rain tomorrow and Tuesday. I moved up my jobs to make sure they got done, so the spray wouldn’t get washed off before it had a chance to soak in and do its work.”
The glacial temperature of her eyes warmed a little, and she nodded. “Well, that makes sense.”
When the others headed back inside, she turned and followed them. As he fell in step beside her, Ridge took a shot at what might be bothering her.
“Don’t worry about paying me,” he said. “I’ll be around.”
“This farm is a business, and we pay people what we owe them when it’s due.”
She refused to look at him, and he sighed in resignation. “I didn’t mean to insult you. It’s just that Matt and I are friends, and I don’t want to make things tough on you. Financially,” he added, to be sure they were clear on that point. In the short time he’d known her, Marianne had struck him as someone who liked to dot her i’s and cross her t’s.
She didn’t respond to that, and he figured it was best to keep quiet. Then she surprised him.
Glancing over at him, she said, “Thank you for doing those tricks for the kids. It was nice of you.”
I’m a nice guy was on the tip of his tongue, but he thought better of it. He hated to sound pathetic, like he was trying to convince her of what most people got right off the bat.
So he settled for, “I’m glad they liked it.”
He wondered if she’d enjoyed the show, too, but figured it would be lame to ask.
“I also want to thank you for helping John clean up the tables and chairs last night,” she added. “He said it took half as long as he thought it would.”
“No problem. Just pitching in where I could.”
She didn’t say anything else as Ridge followed her up the front porch steps and through the double doors. From the large entryway, one arch led into the living room and another to an office.
In direct contrast to the neat but lived-in look of the rest of the house, this room was ruthlessly tidy. Every surface was clear of papers, which he assumed were filed in the row of cabinets along the far wall. The walls were a fresh cream color, with family pictures from many generations scattered all around.
One on the desk caught his eye, and he picked it up for a closer look. Anybody with half a brain could tell it was the Sawyers. All of them. Ridge had never met Matt’s parents, but he smiled at the happy family sharing a picnic somewhere. The little girl hanging over their father’s shoulder looked a lot like Emily, and he pointed to the grinning face.
“Is this you?”
Marianne glanced over, and a sad smile dimmed her features. “Yes. That was taken just before Mom got sick.”
Her last good memory of her mother, Ridge realized with a frown. No wonder the little frame held the place of honor on her desk. Very carefully, he set it down and wandered over to the windows. One looked out over the front garden while the other framed the pond, making it seem like a landscape painting. Except for the sleek laptop and printer on the large desk, the scarred antique furniture appeared to have been here since the house was built.
“Great spot.” He strolled over to admire her view of the pond. “Must be nice working in here.”
“It is,” she replied as she sat down and opened a program on her computer. While her fingers clicked on the keys, she asked, “I know your name, but what’s your address?”
“My mom’s will work.” Still focused on the pond, he started reciting it.
“Wait a minute,” Marianne interrupted. “You don’t have an address?”
Facing her, he shrugged. “Not really. Most folks get me through my cell or email.”
“Where do you live when you’re not working?”
“I’m always working,” he said, then grinned. “Or never working, depending on how you look at it. Grandpa always says if you love what you do, you never work a day in your life. That kinda sums me up, so he got it engraved on a brass plate and mounted it on Betsy’s dash the day of our first flight. I don’t think he invented the saying, but— What?”
She was shaking her head, looking truly appalled. Ridge was getting that gross specimen feeling again.
After several uncomfortable seconds, she said, “I’m still trying to understand how a man your age with a successful business doesn’t have an address.”
“Not everybody likes being rooted in one place.”
He didn’t know why he felt compelled to defend his lifestyle to her, but he couldn’t help it. He wasn’t one to second-guess his choices, but for some reason this pretty, soft-spoken woman was beginning to mess with his confidence.
“Meaning you think I do?”
From the way she hurled the words at him, Ridge knew that despite his best efforts, he’d managed to insult her.
“I assume so, with your kids and everything,” he said, trying to soothe whatever nerve he’d struck. “You grew up here, and you’re still here. That’s nice.”
“For me,” she filled in, still challenging him. “But not for you.”
“Settling doesn’t work for me.”
“You think I’ve settled?” She jumped to her feet like he’d attacked her. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
He tried to explain that he’d meant settling down wasn’t right for him because, despite searching from coast to coast, he’d never found a place where he really wanted to stay. But he could tell she wasn’t hearing him anymore.
Marianne ripped his check from the printer and signed it in a furious scrawl. After shoving it into his chest, she pivoted on her heel and stormed out.
Chapter Three
Marianne’s unforgivable outburst with Ridge followed her like a thundercloud all day. She’d been short-tempered and mean, which was very unlike her. Hard as she tried, she just couldn’t shake her dark mood. She knew perfectly well that he hadn’t intended to put her down or in any way suggest that her life was less fulfilling than his.
Unfortunately, knowing that didn’t help lift her spirits. After a marathon session of laundry and housework to work off some of her frustration, she exhausted herself to the point where she felt more normal. Not entirely, but close enough to be better company.
Later that afternoon feeling contrite for being so prickly, she let Kyle talk her into playing Monopoly. Most days, the long, involved game didn’t suit her very well because it gobbled up so much of her precious spare time. But her kids loved it, even though she wasn’t sure Emily totally understood the rules. As a teacher, Marianne recognized that the game was good practice for adding numbers and counting spaces. For the kids, the fact that they always beat her was a definite bonus, and she went along because it made them so happy.
Today, it was the perfect way to apologize for her behavior without having to invent an explanation for it.
“I’ll buy it,” Emily announced when she landed on her fourth railroad. She didn’t have enough money, but Kyle was the banker and he gave her the deed card and some “change” that would keep her in the game.
Kyle loved to win, and Marianne was impressed by the generosity he’d shown his sister. She reached over to ruffle his hair, but he pulled away and she settled for an approving smile. When the screen door creaked open, she glanced up to find John coming in for his usual Sunday afternoon leftovers raid.
“There’s more in the fridge on the side porch,” Marianne said as she tossed the dice for her next move. Counting out the spaces, she groaned when her impoverished terrier landed in front of Kyle’s hotel.
“Welcome to the Boardwalk,” he crowed, holding out his hand. “Two thousand, please.”
“Aw, man,” John sympathized. “How much have you got?”
“Fourteen dollars.” She surrendered it and her piece to Kyle, who promptly buried the dog under the hotel that had bankrupted her.
“Nice,” John chided him as he plunked himself down on the bench next to Kyle. “Nothing like having a heartless zillionaire in the family.”
The comment rattled Marianne, and she prayed her son hadn’t inherited his father’s ruthless streak. If he had, she’d have her hands full reining it in. There was no way she’d just stand by and let him follow in Peter’s greedy footsteps.
“I still have some money, Uncle John.” Emily waved two fifties in the air. “And I’m gonna pass Go on my next turn.”
“Good for you, darlin’.” Crossing his arms on the table, he nudged Marianne’s elbow. “How’re you doin’?”
Puzzled by the question, she leaned back and saw uncharacteristic concern in his eyes. “Fine. Why?”
“You seemed off earlier today. Lisa was worried.”
“But not you?” Marianne asked, although she knew the answer. He might lack polish, but her carefree younger brother had a tremendous heart.
“Maybe a little. So what’s my answer?”
“Just tired is all,” she said. Even to her own ears, she sounded unconvincing.
“Wouldn’t have anything to do with tomorrow’s date, would it?”
As soon as he said it, she knew what had been eating at her all weekend. She hadn’t consciously realized it, but he was right.
Eleven years ago tomorrow, she’d married Peter.
Tears threatened, and she swallowed hard to keep them under control so she wouldn’t upset the kids. After so long, she was dismayed to discover that those memories hadn’t faded. They were lurking in the shadows, waiting for an opportunity to burst free and hurt her all over again.
“I guess,” she managed, forcing the words around the sudden lump in her throat. “I hadn’t thought of it until now.”
He gave her a smile of encouragement. “Lisa’s working this afternoon. I’ll stay with the kids if you wanna go talk to her.”
Marianne prided herself on being strong and competent. She hated asking for help, even when she probably needed it. Although she was no psychiatrist, she assumed it stemmed from becoming the Sawyers’ mother hen when she was only seven.
The kids’ laughter got her attention, and she looked over at them. Tucker was paws-up on the table, nosing through Kyle’s enormous pile of money.
“I’m fine,” she repeated.
“Come on,” John scoffed, tilting his head with a doubtful look. “This is me you’re talking to.”
Lisa was such a great sounding board, Marianne was tempted to take him up on his offer. But she seldom left the kids with anyone, even family. It felt wrong somehow. To avoid insulting him, she hedged. “I don’t know. The diner might be busy.”
“On a gorgeous day like this? Everybody’s off fishing or having a picnic somewhere. That place is probably a ghost town. She’ll be glad for the company. And when was the last time you went out on your own?”
“Christmas,” she shot back.
“Sure, to shop for presents for all of us.”
Again with the tilted head. He was reminding her more of Tucker by the second, but she had to admit that John’s suggestion made sense. Times like these, she really wished she could talk to her father. Even if he didn’t have a solution, Dad had always listened, reminding her that she didn’t have to manage everything on her own.
“Kids, I have some errands to run in town. Will you keep an eye on Uncle John for me?”
They agreed enthusiastically, and he grinned. “That reminds me, can you stop by Gerber’s and pick me up some socks?”
“What happened to all your socks?”
“Tucker.” He nudged the Lab’s belly with his bare foot. “He goes nuts over ’em.”
“You shouldn’t let him in your house.”
“That’d be no fun at all.” Reaching into one of the cargo pockets on his shorts, he pulled out a very thin nylon wallet and opened it. After rummaging through, he looked up and gave her one of his gotta-love-me grins. “I’ll pay you back.”
“If you and the kids stay out of trouble while I’m gone, we’ll call it even.”
“Done. I’ll handle supper, so you don’t have to come back till after that.”
“Yay! Uncle John’s making supper!” Emily approved, clapping her hands. “Can we have chocolate cake?”
John let out a groan. “Are you trying to get me in trouble?”
“As if you needed any help with that,” Marianne teased.
“We’ll do something your mom would be okay with.”
He flashed Marianne an angelic smile she wasn’t buying for a second. But after they shook on their deal, she went into the pantry to get her purse from its hook. The newspaper on top of the recycle bin caught her eye. The book reviews were showing, and she tore the page out. Gerber’s sold everything, including the latest bestsellers. Instead of wallowing in memories of her failed marriage, maybe she just needed some time to herself to read more than a few pages of a book. A piece of one of Ruthy’s blue-ribbon desserts wouldn’t hurt, either.
It wasn’t like her to be so impulsive, and the prospect of breaking loose for a while definitely appealed to her. Feeling better already, she kissed the top of Emily’s head, fist-bumped Kyle and headed out the door.
* * *
“Ruthy, this isn’t peach cobbler,” Ridge insisted as the first forkful practically melted in his mouth. “It’s a dream.”
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