Kitabı oku: «Summer Wedding Bells: Marriage Wanted / Lone Star Lovin'»

Make time for friends. Make time for

Debbie Macomber

CEDAR COVE

16 Lighthouse Road

204 Rosewood Lane

311 Pelican Court

44 Cranberry Point

50 Harbor Street

6 Rainier Drive

74 Seaside Avenue

8 Sandpiper Way

92 Pacific Boulevard

1022 Evergreen Place

1105 Yakima Street

A Merry Little Christmas

(featuring

1225 Christmas Tree Lane

and 5-B Poppy Lane)

BLOSSOM STREET

The Shop on Blossom Street

A Good Yarn

Susannah’s Garden

(previously published as

Old Boyfriends)

Back on Blossom Street

(previously published as

Wednesdays at Four)

Twenty Wishes

Summer on Blossom Street

Hannah’s List

A Turn in the Road

Thursdays at Eight

Christmas in Seattle

Falling for Christmas

Angels at Christmas

A Mother’s Gift

A Mother’s Wish

Happy Mother’ s Day

Be My Valentine

THE MANNINGS

The Manning Sisters

The Manning Brides

The Manning Grooms

Summer in Orchard Valley

THE DAKOTAS

Dakota Born

Dakota Home

Always Dakota

The Farmer Takes a Wife

(Exclusive short story)

Summer
Wedding
Bells
Marriage Wanted
Lone Star Lovin’

Debbie Macomber

featuring Marriage Wanted and Lone Star Lovin’

www.mirabooks.co.uk

Marriage Wanted

To Randall Toye

who has supported and encouraged me

for twenty-eight wonderful years

One

Savannah Charles watched the young woman wandering around her bridal shop, checking prices and looking more discouraged by the moment. Her shoulders slumped and she bit her lip when she read the tag on the wedding gown she’d selected. She had excellent taste, Savannah noticed; the ivory silk-taffeta dress was one of her own favorites. A pattern of lace and pearls swirled up the puffed sleeves and bodice.

“Can I help you?” Savannah asked, moving toward her. Startled, the woman turned. “I…It doesn’t look like it. This dress is almost twice as much as my budget for the whole wedding. Are you Savannah?”

“Yes.”

She smiled shyly. “Missy Gilbert told me about you. She said you’re wonderful to work with and that you might be able to give Kurt and me some guidance. I’m Susan Davenport.” She held out her hand and Savannah shook it, liking the girl immediately.

“When’s your wedding?”

“In six weeks. Kurt and I are paying for it ourselves. His two younger brothers are still in college and his parents haven’t got much to spare.” Amusement turned up the corners of her mouth as she added, “Kurt’s dad claims he’s becoming poor by degrees.”

Savannah smiled back. “What about your family?”

“There’s only my brother and me. He’s fifteen years older and, well…it isn’t that he doesn’t like Kurt. Because once you meet Kurt, it’s impossible not to love him. He’s kind and generous and interesting.…”

Savannah was touched by Susan’s eagerness to tell her about the man she wanted to marry.

“But Nash—my brother—doesn’t believe in marriage,” the young woman went on to explain. “He’s an attorney and he’s worked on so many divorce cases over the years that he simply doesn’t believe in it anymore. It doesn’t help that he’s divorced himself, although that was years and years ago.”

“What’s your budget?” Savannah asked. She’d planned weddings that went into six figures, but she was equally adept at finding reasonable alternatives. She walked back to her desk, limping on her right foot. It ached more this afternoon than usual. It always did when the humidity was this high.

Susan told her the figure she and Kurt had managed to set aside and Savannah frowned. It wasn’t much, but she could work with it. She turned around and caught Susan staring at her. Savannah was accustomed to that kind of reaction to her limp, the result of a childhood accident. She generally wore pants, which disguised the scars and disfigurement, but her limp was always noticeable, and more so when she was tired. Until they knew her better, it seemed to disconcert people. Generally she ignored their hesitation and continued, hoping that her own acceptance would put them at ease.

“Even the least expensive wedding dresses would eat up the majority of the money we’ve worked so hard to save.”

“You could always rent the dress,” Savannah suggested.

“I could?” Her pretty blue eyes lit up when Savannah mentioned the rental fee.

“How many people are you inviting?”

“Sixty-seven,” Susan told her, as if the number of guests had been painfully difficult to pare down. “Kurt and I can’t afford more. Mostly it’s his family.…I don’t think Nash will even come to the wedding.” Her voice fell.

Despite never having met Susan’s older brother, she already disliked him. Savannah couldn’t imagine a brother refusing to attend his sister’s wedding, no matter what his personal views on marriage happened to be.

“Kurt’s from a large family. He has aunts and uncles and, I swear, at least a thousand cousins. We’d like to invite everyone, but we can’t. The invitations alone will cost a fortune.”

“Have you thought about making your own invitations?”

Susan shook her head. “I’m not very artsy.”

“You don’t need to be.” Opening a drawer, Savannah brought out a book of calligraphy. “These are fairly simple and elegant-looking and they’ll add a personal touch because they’re individualized.” She paused. “You’ll find other ideas on the internet.”

“These are beautiful. You honestly think I could do this?” She looked expectantly at Savannah.

“Without a doubt,” Savannah answered with a smile.

“I wish I could talk some sense into Nash,” Susan muttered, then squared her shoulders as if she was ready to take him on right that minute. “He’s the only family I have. We’ve got aunts and uncles here and there, but no one we’re close to, and Nash is being so unreasonable about this. I love Kurt and nothing’s going to change the way I feel. I love his family, too. It can be lonely when you don’t belong to someone. That’s Nash’s problem. He’s forgotten what it’s like to belong to someone. To be in a relationship.”

Loneliness. Savannah was well acquainted with the feeling. All her life she’d felt alone. The little girl who couldn’t run and play with friends. The teenage girl who never got asked to the prom. The woman who arranged the happiest days of other people’s lives.

Loneliness. Savannah knew more than she wanted to about long days and longer nights.

“I’m sure your brother will change his mind,” Savannah said reassuringly—even though she wasn’t sure at all.

Susan laughed. “That only goes to prove you don’t know my brother. Once he’s set on something, it takes an Act of Congress to persuade him otherwise.”

Savannah spent the next hour with Susan, deciding on the details of both the wedding and the reception. With such a limited budget it was a challenge, but they did it.

“I can’t believe we can do so much with so little,” Susan said once they’d finished. Her face glowed with happiness. “A nice wedding doesn’t mean as much to Kurt as it does to me, but he’s willing to do whatever he can to make our day special.”

Through the course of their conversation, Savannah learned that Kurt had graduated from the University of Washington with an engineering degree. He’d recently been hired by a California firm and had moved to the San Francisco area, where Susan would be joining him.

After defying her brother, Susan had moved in with Kurt’s family, working part-time and saving every penny she could to help with the wedding expenses.

“I can hardly wait to talk to Kurt,” Susan said excitedly as she gathered her purse and the notes she’d made. “I’ll get back to you as soon as he’s had a chance to go over the contract.” Susan paused. “Missy was right. You are wonderful.” She threw both arms around Savannah in an impulsive hug. “I’ll be back as soon as I can and you can take the measurements for the dress.” She cast a dreamy look toward the silk-and-taffeta gown and sighed audibly. “Kurt’s going to die when he sees me in that dress.”

“You’ll make a lovely bride.”

“Thank you for everything,” Susan said as she left the store.

“You’re welcome.” It was helping young women like Susan that Savannah enjoyed the most. The eager, happy ones who were so much in love they were willing to listen to their hearts no matter what the cost. Over the years, Savannah had worked with every kind of bride and she knew the signs. The Susans of this world were invariably a delight.

It was highly unlikely that Savannah would ever be married herself. Men were an enigma to her. Try as she might, she’d never been able to understand them. They invariably treated her differently than they did other women. Savannah assumed their attitude had to do with her damaged leg. Men either saw her as fragile, untouchable, because of it, or they viewed her as a buddy, a confidante. She supposed she should be flattered by the easy camaraderie they shared with her. They sought her advice, listened politely when she spoke, then did as they pleased.

Only a few men had seen her as a woman, a woman with dreams and desires of her own. But when it came to love, each of them had grown hesitant and afraid. Each relationship had ended awkwardly long before it had gotten close to serious.

Maybe that wasn’t a fair assessment, Savannah mused sadly. Maybe it was her own attitude. She’d been terrified of ever falling in love. No matter how deeply she felt about a man, she was positive that her imperfection would come between them. It was safer to hold back, to cling to her pride than risk rejection and pain later on.

A week later, Susan came breezing through the door to Savannah’s shop.

“Hello,” she said, smiling broadly. “I talked to Kurt and he’s as excited as I am.” She withdrew a debit card from her purse. “I’d like to give you the down payment now. And I have the signed contract for you.”

Savannah brought out her paperwork and Susan paid her. “My brother doesn’t believe we’ll be able to do it without his help, but he’s wrong. We’re going to have a beautiful wedding, with or without Nash, thanks to you.”

This was what made Savannah’s job so fulfilling. “I’ll order what we need right away,” she told Susan. Savannah only wished there was some way she could influence the young woman’s unreasonable older brother. She knew his type—cynical, distrusting, pessimistic. A man who scoffed at love, who had no respect for marriage. How very sad. Despite her irritation with the faceless Nash, Savannah couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. Whether or not he realized it, he was going to lose his sister.

There were just the two of them, so she didn’t understand why Nash wouldn’t support his sister in her decision. Luckily Susan had Kurt’s parents. Undoubtedly this was something her brother hadn’t counted on, either.

Susan left soon afterward. What remained of Savannah’s day was busy. The summer months used to be her overburdened time, but that hadn’t held true of late. Her services were booked equally throughout the year.

Around five-thirty, when Savannah was getting ready to close for the day, the bell chimed over her door, indicating someone had entered the shop. She looked up from her computer and found a tall, well-dressed man standing by the doorway. It had started to rain lightly; he shook off the raindrops in his hair before he stepped farther inside. She saw him glance around and scowl, as if being in such a place was repugnant to him. Even before he spoke she knew he was Susan’s brother. The family resemblance was striking.

“Hello,” she said.

“Hello.” He slid his hands in his pockets with a contemptuous frown. Apparently he feared that even being in this place where love and romance were honored would infect him with some dread disease. It must take a good deal of energy to maintain his cynicism, Savannah thought.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“No, thanks. I was just looking.” He walked slowly through the shop. His expensive leather shoes made a tapping sound against the polished hardwood floor. She noticed that he took pains not to touch anything.

Savannah nearly laughed out loud when he passed a display of satin pillows, edged in French lace, that were meant to be carried by the ring bearer. He stepped around it, giving it a wide berth, then picked up one of her business cards from a brass holder on a small antique table.

“Are you Savannah Charles?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied evenly. “I am.”

“Interesting shop you have here,” he said dryly. Savannah had to admit she found him handsome in a rugged sort of way. His facial features were strong and well-defined. His mouth firm, his jaw square and stubbornly set. He walked in short, clipped steps, his impatience nearly palpable. Naturally, she might be altogether wrong and this could be someone other than Susan’s brother. Savannah decided it was time to find out.

“Are you about to be married?”

“No,” he said disgustedly.

“This seems like an unusual shop for you to browse through, then.”

He smiled in her direction, acknowledging her shrewdness. “I believe you’ve been talking to my sister, Susan Davenport.”

So Savannah had been right. This was Susan’s hard-nosed older brother. His attitude had been a dead giveaway. “Yes, Susan’s been in.”

“I take it she’s decided to go through with this wedding nonsense, then?” He eyed her suspiciously as if to suggest his sister might have changed her mind except for Savannah’s encouragement and support.

“It would be best if you discussed Susan’s plans with her.”

Nash clasped his hands behind his back. “I would if we were on speaking terms.”

How he knew his sister was working with her, Savannah hadn’t a clue. She didn’t even want to know.

“So,” he said conversationally, “exactly what do you do here?”

“I’m a wedding coordinator.”

“Wedding coordinator,” he repeated, sounding genuinely curious. He nodded for her to continue.

“Basically I organize the wedding for the bride and her family so they’re free to enjoy this all-important day.”

“I see,” he said. “You’re the one who makes sure the flowers arrive at the church on time?”

“Something like that.” His version oversimplified her role, but she didn’t think he’d appreciate a detailed job description. After all, he wasn’t interested in her, but in what he could learn about his sister and Kurt’s plans.

He wandered about the shop some more, careful not to come into contact with any of the displays she’d so carefully arranged. He strolled past a lace-covered table with an elegant heart-shaped guest book and plumed pen as if he were walking past a nest of vipers. Savannah couldn’t help being amused.

“Susan hasn’t got the money for a wedding,” he announced. “At least, not one fancy enough to hire a coordinator.”

“Again, this is something you need to discuss with your sister.”

He didn’t like her answer; that much was obvious from the way his mouth thinned and the irritation she saw in his eyes. They were the same intense blue as his sister’s, but that was where the resemblance ended. Susan’s eyes revealed her love and enthusiasm for life. Nash’s revealed his disenchantment and skepticism. She finished up the last of her paperwork, ignoring him as much as she could.

“You’re a babe in the woods, aren’t you?”

“I beg your pardon?” Savannah said, looking up.

“You actually believe all this…absurdity?”

“I certainly don’t think of love and commitment as absurd, if that’s what you mean, Mr. Davenport.”

“Call me Nash.”

“All right,” she agreed reluctantly. In a few minutes she was going to show him the door. He hadn’t bothered to disguise the purpose of his visit. He was trying to pump her for information and hadn’t figured out yet that she refused to be placed in the middle between him and his sister.

“Did you ever stop to realize that over fifty percent of the couples who marry in this day and age end up divorcing?”

“I know the statistics.”

He walked purposely toward her as if approaching a judge’s bench, intent on proving his point. “Love is a lame excuse for marriage.”

Since he was going to make it impossible for her to concentrate, she sat back on her stool and folded her arms. “What do you suggest couples do then, Mr. Davenport? Just live together?”

“Nash,” he reminded her irritably. “And, yes, living together makes a lot more sense. If a man and woman are so hot for each other, I don’t see any reason to muddy the relationship with legalities when a weekend in bed would simplify everything.”

Savannah resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Rejecting marriage made as much sense to her as pushing a car over a cliff because the fender was dented. Instead she asked, “Is this what you want Susan and Kurt to do? Live together indefinitely? Without commitment?”

That gave him pause. Apparently it was perfectly fine for other couples to do that, but when it came to his little sister, he hesitated. “Yes,” he finally said. “Until this infatuation passes.”

“What about children?”

“Susan’s little more than a child herself,” he argued, although she was twenty-four—and in Savannah’s estimation a mature twenty-four. “If she’s smart, she’ll avoid adding to her mistakes,” he said stiffly.

“What about someone other than your sister?” she demanded, annoyed with herself for allowing him to draw her into this pointless discussion. “Are you suggesting our society should do away with family?”

“A wedding ring doesn’t make a family,” he returned just as heatedly.

Savannah sighed deeply. “I think it’s best for us to agree to disagree,” she said, feeling a bit sad. It was unrealistic to think she’d say anything that would change his mind. Susan was determined to marry Kurt, with or without his approval, but she loved her brother, too. That was what made this situation so difficult.

“Love is a lame excuse to mess up one’s life,” he said, clenching his fists at his side with impotent anger. “A lame excuse.”

At his third use of the word lame, Savannah inwardly flinched. Because she was sitting behind her desk, he didn’t realize she was “lame.”

“Marriage is an expensive trap that destroys a man’s soul,” Nash went on to say, ignoring her. “I see the results of it each and every day. Just this afternoon, I was in court for a settlement hearing that was so nasty the judge had to pull both attorneys into chambers. Do you really believe I want my little sister involved in something like that?”

“Your sister is a grown woman, Mr. Davenport. She’s old enough to make her own decisions.”

“Mistakes, you mean.”

Savannah sensed his frustration, but arguing with him would do no good at all. “Susan’s in love. You should know by now that she’s determined to marry Kurt.”

“In love. Excuses don’t get much worse than that.”

Savannah had had enough. She stood and realized for the first time how tall Nash actually was. He loomed head and shoulders over her five-foot-three-inch frame. Standing next to him she felt small and insignificant. For all their differences, Savannah could appreciate his concerns. Nash loved his sister; otherwise he wouldn’t have gone to such effort to find out her plans.

“It’s been interesting,” Nash said, waiting for her to walk around her desk and join him. Savannah did, limping as she went. She was halfway across the room before she saw that he wasn’t following her. Half turning around, she noticed that he was looking at her leg, his features marked by regret.

“I didn’t mean to be rude,” he said, and she couldn’t doubt his sincerity. What surprised her was his sensitivity. She might have judged this man too harshly. His attitude had irritated her, but she’d also been entertained by him—and by the vigor of their argument.

“You didn’t know.” She finished her trek to the door, again surprised to realize he hadn’t followed her. “It’s well past my closing time,” she said meaningfully.

“Of course.” His steps were crisp and uniform as he marched across her shop, stopping abruptly when he reached her. A frown wrinkled his brow as he stared at her again.

“What’s wrong?”

He laughed shortly. “I’m trying to figure something out.”

“If it has to do with Susan and Kurt—”

“It doesn’t,” he cut in. “It has to do with you.” An odd smile lifted his mouth. “I like you. You’re impertinent, sassy and stubborn.”

“Oh, really!” She might have been offended if she hadn’t been struggling so hard not to laugh.

“Really.”

“You’re tactless, irritating and overpowering,” she responded.

His grin was transformed into a full-blown smile. “You’re right. It’s a shame, though.”

“A shame? What are you talking about?”

“You being a wedding coordinator. It’s a waste. With your obvious organizational skills, you might’ve done something useful. Instead, your head’s stuck in the clouds and you’ve let love and romance fog up your brain. But you know what?” He rubbed the side of his jaw. “There just might be hope for you.”

“Hope. Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you. There just might be a slim chance of reasoning with you. You’re clearly intelligent and even a little witty. But unfortunately you’re misguided. Now that you’re dealing with your sister’s marriage, however, there’s a remote possibility someone might be able to get through to you.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest and resting his weight on one foot.

“Your judgment’s been confused by your clients. By their anger and bitterness and separations. We’re at opposite ends of the same subject. I work with couples when they’re deeply in love and convinced the relationship will last forever. You see them when they’re embittered and disillusioned. But what you don’t seem to realize is that you need to see the glass as half-full and not half-empty.”

He frowned. “I thought we were talking about marriage.”

“We are. What you said earlier is true. Fifty percent of all married couples end up divorcing—which means fifty percent of them go on to lead fulfilling, happy lives.”

Nash’s snort was derisive. He dropped his arms and straightened, shaking his head. “I was wrong. There’s no hope for you. The fifty percent who stay together are just as miserable. Given the opportunity, they’d gladly get out of the relationship.”

Nash was beginning to irritate her again. “Why is it so difficult for you to believe that there’s such a thing as a happy marriage?”

“Because I’ve never seen one.”

“You haven’t looked hard enough.”

“Have you ever stopped to think that your head’s so muddled with hearts and flowers and happy-ever-afters that you can’t and won’t accept what’s right in front of your eyes?”

“Like I said, it’s past my closing time.” Savannah jerked open the shop door. The clanging bell marked the end of their frustrating conversation. Rarely had Savannah allowed anyone to get under her skin the way she had Nash Davenport. The man was impossible. Totally unreasonable…

The woman was impossible. Totally unreasonable.

Nash couldn’t understand why he continued to mull over their conversation. Twenty-four hours had passed, and he’d thought about their verbal sparring match a dozen times.

Relaxing in his leather office chair, he rolled a pen between his palms. Obviously Savannah didn’t know him well; otherwise, she wouldn’t have attempted to convince him of the error of his views.

His eyes fell on the phone and he sighed inwardly. Susan was being stubborn and irrational. It was plain that he was going to have to be the one to mend fences. He’d hoped she’d come to her senses, but it wasn’t going to happen. He was her older brother, her closest relative, and if she refused to make the first move, he’d have to do it.

He looked up Kurt Caldwell’s parents’ phone number. He resented having to contact her there. Luck was with him, however, when Susan herself answered.

“It’s Nash,” he said. When she was little, her voice rose with excitement whenever he called. Anytime he arrived home, she’d fly into his arms, so glad to see him she couldn’t hold still. He sighed again, missing the child she once was.

“Hello, Nash,” Susan said stiffly. No pleasure at hearing from him was evident now.

“How are you doing?” That was the purpose of this call, after all.

“Fine. How about you?” Her words were stilted, and her stubbornness hadn’t budged an inch. He would have said as much, then thought better of it.

“I’m fine, too,” he answered.

The silence stretched between them.

“I understand you have a wedding coordinator now,” he said, hoping to come across as vaguely interested. She might have defied him, but he would always be her big brother.

“How do you know that?”

“Word, uh, gets around.” In fact, he’d learned about it from a family friend. Still, he shouldn’t have said anything. And he wouldn’t have if Savannah hadn’t dominated his thoughts from the moment he’d met her.

“You’ve had someone checking into my affairs, haven’t you?” Susan lowered her voice to subzero temperatures. “You can’t rule my life, Nash. I’m going to marry Kurt and that’s all there is to it.”

“I gathered as much from Savannah Charles.…”

“You’ve talked to Savannah?”

Nash recognized his second mistake immediately. He’d blown it now, and Susan wasn’t going to forgive him.

“Stop meddling in my life, Nash.” His sister’s voice quavered suspiciously and seconds later the line was disconnected. The phone droned in his ear before he dejectedly replaced the receiver.

Needless to say, that conversation hadn’t gone well. He’d like to blame Savannah, but it was his fault. He’d been the one to let her name slip, a stupid error on his part.

The wedding coordinator and his sister were both too stubborn and naive for their own good. If this was how Susan wanted it, then he had no choice but to abide by her wishes. Calling her had been another mistake in a long list he’d been making lately.

His assistant poked her head in his door, and he gave her his immediate attention. He had more important things to worry about than his sister and a feisty wedding coordinator who lived in a dreamworld.

“What did my brother say?” Susan demanded.

“He wanted to know about you,” Savannah said absently as she arranged champagne flutes on the display table next to the five-tier wedding cake. She’d been working on the display between customers for the past hour.

“In other words, Nash was pumping you for information?”

“Yes, but you don’t need to worry, I didn’t tell him anything. What I did do was suggest he talk to you.” She straightened, surprised that he’d followed her advice. “He cares deeply for you, Susan.”

“I know.” Susan gnawed on her lower lip. “I wish I hadn’t hung up on him.”

“Susan!”

“I…He told me he’d talked to you and it made me so mad I couldn’t bear to speak to him another second.”

Savannah was surprised by Nash’s slip. She would’ve thought their conversation was the last thing he’d mention. But from the sound of it, he didn’t get an opportunity to rehash it with Susan.

“If he makes a pest of himself,” Susan said righteously, “let me know and I’ll…I’ll do something.”

“Don’t worry about it. I rather enjoyed talking to him.” It was true, although Savannah hated to admit it. She’d worked hard to push thoughts of Nash from her mind over the past couple of days. His attitude had annoyed her, true, but she’d found him intriguing and—it bothered her to confess this—a challenge. A smile came when she realized he probably saw her the same way.

“I have to get back to work,” Susan said reluctantly. “I just wanted to apologize for my brother’s behavior.”

“He wasn’t a problem.”

On her way out the door, Susan muttered something Savannah couldn’t hear. The situation was sad. Brother and sister loved each other but were at an impasse.

Savannah continued to consider the situation until the bell over the door chimed about five minutes later. Smiling, she looked up, deciding she wasn’t going to get this display finished until after closing time. She should’ve known better than to try.

“Nash.” His name was a mere whisper.

“Hello again,” he said dryly. “I’ve come to prove my point.”

Two

“You want to prove your point,” Savannah repeated thoughtfully. Nash Davenport was the most headstrong man she’d ever encountered. He was also one of the handsomest. That did more to confuse her than to help. For reasons as yet unclear, she’d lost her objectivity. No doubt it had something to do with that pride of his and the way they’d argued. No doubt it was also because they remained diametrically opposed on the most fundamental issues of life—love and marriage.

“I’ve given some thought to our conversation the other day,” Nash said, pacing back and forth, “and it seems to me that I’m just the person to clear up your thinking. Besides,” he went on, “if I can clear up your thinking, maybe you’ll have some influence on Susan.”

Although it was difficult, Savannah resisted the urge to laugh.

“To demonstrate my good faith, I brought a peace offering.” He held up a white sack for her inspection. “Two lattes,” he explained. He set the bag on the corner of her desk and opened it, handing her one of the paper cups. The smell of hot coffee blended with steamed milk was as welcome as popcorn in a theater. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said next, gesturing toward the stool, “because it might take a while.”

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” Savannah felt obliged to say as she carefully edged onto the stool.

“It’s a great idea. Just hear me out,” he said smoothly.

“Oh, all right,” she returned with an ungracious nod. Savannah might have had the energy to resist him if it hadn’t been so late in the day. She was tired and the meeting with Susan had frustrated her. She’d come to her upset and unhappy, and Savannah had felt helpless, not knowing how to reassure the younger woman.

Nash pried off the lid of his latte, then glanced at his watch. He walked over to her door and turned over the sign so it read Closed.

“Hey, wait a minute!”

“It’s—” he looked at his watch again “—5:29 p.m. You’re officially closed in one minute.”

Savannah didn’t bother to disagree. “I think it’s only fair for you to know that whatever you have to say isn’t going to change my mind,” she said.

“I figured as much.”

The man continued to surprise her. “How do you intend to prove your point? Parade divorced couples through my wedding shop?”

“Nothing that drastic.”

“Did it occur to you that I could do the same thing and have you meet with a group of blissful newlyweds?” she asked.

He grinned. “I’m way ahead of you. I already guessed you’d enjoy introducing me to any number of loving couples who can’t keep their hands off each other.”

Savannah shrugged, not denying it.

“The way I figure it,” he said, “we both have a strong argument to make.”

“Exactly.” She nodded. “But you aren’t going to change my mind and I doubt I’ll change yours.” She didn’t know what kept some couples together against all odds or why others decided to divorce when the first little problem arose. If Nash expected her to supply the answers, she had none to offer.

“Don’t be so sure we won’t change each other’s mind.” Which only went to prove that he thought there was a chance he could influence her. “We could accomplish a great deal if we agree to be open-minded.”

Savannah cocked one eyebrow and regarded him skeptically. “Can you guarantee you’ll be open-minded?”

“I’m not sure,” he answered, and she was impressed with his honesty. “But I’m willing to try. That’s all I ask of you.”

“That sounds fair.”

He rubbed his palms together as though eager to get started. “If you don’t object, I’d like to go first.”

“Just a minute,” she said, holding up her hand. “Before we do, shouldn’t we set some rules?”

“Like what?”

Although it was her suggestion, Savannah didn’t really have an answer. “I don’t know. Just boundaries of some kind.”

“I trust you not to do anything weird, and you can count on the same from me,” he said. “After all—”

“Don’t be so hasty,” she interrupted. “If we’re going to put time and effort into this, it makes sense that we have rules. And something riding on the outcome.”

His blue eyes brightened. “Now there’s an interesting thought.” He paused and a smile bracketed his mouth. “So you want to set a wager?”

Nash seemed to be on a one-man campaign to convince her the world would be a better place without the institution of marriage. “We might as well make it interesting, don’t you think?”

“I couldn’t agree more. If you can prove your point and get me to agree that you have, what would you want in exchange?”

This part was easy. “For you to attend Susan and Kurt’s wedding. It would mean the world to Susan.”

The easy smile disappeared behind a dark frown.

“She was in this afternoon,” Savannah continued, rushing the words in her eagerness to explain. “She’s anxious and confused, loving you and loving Kurt and needing your approval so badly.”

Nash’s mouth narrowed into a thin line of irritation.

“Would it really be so much to ask?” she ventured. “I realize I’d need to rely on your complete and total honesty, but I have faith in you.” She took a sip of her latte.

“So, if you convince me my thinking is wrong on this marriage issue, you want me to attend Susan’s wedding.” He hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Deal,” he said, and his grin reappeared.

Until that moment, Savannah was convinced Nash had no idea what he intended to use for his argument. But apparently he did. “What would you want from me?” she asked. Her question broke into his musings because he jerked his head toward her as if he’d forgotten there might be something in this for him, as well. He took a deep breath and then released it. “I don’t know. Do I have to decide right now?”

“No.”

“It’ll be something substantial—you understand that, don’t you?”

Savannah managed to hold back a smile. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“How about home-cooked dinners for a week served on your fanciest china? That wouldn’t be out of line,” he murmured.

She gaped at him. Her request had been generous and completely selfless. She’d offered him an excuse to attend Susan’s wedding and salvage his pride, and in return he wanted her to slave in the kitchen for days on end.

“That is out of line,” she told him, unwilling to agree to anything so ridiculous. If he wanted homemade meals, he could do what the rest of the world did and cook them himself, visit relatives or get married.

Nash’s expression was boyish with delight. “So you’re afraid you’re going to lose.”

Raising her eyebrows, she said, “You haven’t got a prayer, Davenport.”

“Then what’s the problem?” he asked, making an exaggerated gesture with both hands. “Do you agree to my terms or not?”

This discussion had wandered far from what she’d originally intended. Savannah had been hoping to smooth things over between brother and sister and at the same time prove her own point. She wasn’t interested in putting her own neck on the chopping block. Any attempt to convince Nash of the error of his ways was pointless.

He finished off his latte and flung the empty container into her garbage receptacle. “Be ready tomorrow afternoon,” he said, walking to the door.

Savannah scrambled awkwardly from the stool. “What for?” she called after him. She limped two steps toward him and stopped abruptly at the flash of pain that shot up her leg. She’d sat too long in the same position, something she was generally able to avoid. She wanted to rub her thigh, work the throbbing muscle, but that would reveal her pain, which she wanted to hide from Nash.

“You’ll know more tomorrow afternoon,” he promised, looking pleased with himself.

“How long will this take?”

“There are time restrictions? Are there any other rules we need to discuss?”

“I…We should both be reasonable about this, don’t you think?”

“I was planning to be sensible, but I can’t speak for you.”

This conversation was deteriorating rapidly. “I’ll be ready at closing time tomorrow afternoon, then,” she said, holding her hand against her thigh. If he didn’t leave soon, she was going to have to sit down. Disguising her pain had become a way of life, but the longer she stood, the more difficult it became.

“Something’s wrong,” he announced, his gaze hard and steady. “You’d argue with me if there wasn’t.”

Again she was impressed by his sensitivity. “Nonsense. I said I’d be ready. What more do you want?”

He left her then, in the nick of time. A low moan escaped as she sank onto her chair. Perspiration moistened her brow and she drew in several deep breaths. Rubbing her hand over the tense muscles slowly eased out the pain.

The phone was situated to the left of her desk and after giving the last of her discomfort a couple of minutes to ebb away, she reached for the receiver and dialed her parents’ number. Apparently Nash had decided how to present his case. She had, too. No greater argument could be made than her parents’ loving relationship. Their marriage was as solid as Fort Knox and they’d been devoted to each other for over thirty years. Nash couldn’t meet her family and continue to discredit love and marriage.

Her father answered on the second ring, sounding delighted to hear from her. A rush of warm feeling washed over Savannah. Her family had been a constant source of love and encouragement to her through the years.

“Hi, Dad.”

“It’s always good to hear from you, sweetheart.”

Savannah relaxed in her chair. “Is Mom around?”

“No, she’s got a doctor’s appointment to have her blood pressure checked again. Is there anything I can do for you?”

Savannah’s hand tightened around the receiver. She didn’t want to mislead her parents into thinking she was involved with Nash. But she needed to prove her point. “Is there any chance I could bring someone over for dinner tomorrow night?”

“Of course.”

Savannah laughed lightly. “You might want to check Mom’s calendar. It’d be just like you to agree to something when she’s already made plans.”

“I looked. The calendar’s right here in the kitchen and tomorrow night’s free. Now, if you were to ask about Friday, that’s a different story.”

Once more Savannah found herself smiling.

“Who do you want us to meet?”

“His name’s Nash Davenport.”

Her announcement was met with a short but noticeable silence. “You’re bringing a young man home to meet your family? This is an occasion, then.”

“Dad, it isn’t like that.” This was exactly what she’d feared would happen, that her family would misinterpret her bringing Nash home. “We’ve only just met.…”

“It was like that with your mother and me,” her father said excitedly. “We met on a Friday night and a week later I knew this was the woman I was going to love all my life, and I have.”

“Dad, Nash is just a friend—not even a friend, really, just an acquaintance,” Savannah said, trying to correct his mistaken impression. “I’m coordinating his sister’s wedding.”

“No need to explain, sweetheart. If you want to bring a young man for your mother and me to meet, we’d be thrilled, no matter what the reason.”

Savannah was about to respond, but then decided that a lengthy explanation might hurt her cause rather than help it. “I’m not sure of the exact time we’ll arrive.”

“No problem. I’ll light up the barbecue and that way you won’t need to worry. Come whenever you can. We’ll make an evening of it.”

Oh, yes, it was going to be quite an evening, Savannah mused darkly. Two stubborn people, both convinced they were right, would each try to convert the other.

This was going to be so easy that Nash almost felt guilty. Almost…Poor Savannah. Once he’d finished with what he had to show her, she’d have no option but to accept the reality of his argument.

Nash loved this kind of debate, when he was certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was right. By the time he was done, Savannah would be eating her words.

Grabbing his briefcase, he hurried out of his office, anxious to forge ahead and prove his point.

“Nash, what’s your hurry?”

Groaning inwardly, Nash turned to face a fellow attorney, Paul Jefferson. “I’ve got an appointment this evening,” Nash explained. He didn’t like Paul, had never liked Paul. What bothered him most was that this brownnoser was going to be chosen over him for the partnership position that was opening up within the year. Both Paul and Nash had come into the firm at the same time, and they were both good attorneys. But Paul had a way of ingratiating himself with the powers that be and parting the waters of opportunity.

“An appointment or a date?” Paul asked with that smug look of his. One of these days Nash was going to find an excuse to wipe that grin off his face.

He looked pointedly at his watch. “If you’ll excuse me, Paul, I have to leave, otherwise I’ll be late.”

“Can’t keep her waiting, now can we?” Paul said, and finding himself amusing, he laughed at his own sorry joke.

Knotting his fist at his side, Nash was happy to escape. Anger clawed at him until he was forced to stop and analyze his outrage. He’d been working with Paul for nearly ten years. He’d tolerated his humorless jokes, his conceited, selfrighteous attitude and his air of superiority without displaying his annoyance. What was different now?

He considered the idea of Paul being preferred to him for the partnership. But this was nothing new. The minute he’d learned about the opening, he’d suspected Stackhouse and Serle would choose Paul. He’d accepted it as fact weeks ago.

Paul had suggested Nash was hurrying to meet a woman—which he was. Nash didn’t bother to deny it. What upset him was the sarcastic way Paul had said it, as though Savannah—

His mind came to a grinding halt. Savannah.

So she was at the bottom of all this. Nash had taken offense at the edge in Paul’s voice, as if his fellow attorney had implied that Savannah was, somehow, less than she should be. He knew he was being oversensitive. After all, Paul had never even met her. But still…

Nash recalled his own reaction to Savannah, his observations when he’d met her. She was small. Her dark, pixie-style hair and deep brown eyes gave her a fragile appearance, but that was deceptive. The woman obviously had a constitution of iron.

Her eyes…Once more his thoughts skidded to a halt. He’d never known a woman with eyes that were more revealing. In them he read a multitude of emotions. Pain, both physical and emotional. In them he saw a woman with courage. Nash barely knew Savannah and yet he sensed she was one of the most astonishing people he’d probably ever meet. He’d wanted to defend her, wanted to slam his colleague up against a wall and demand an apology for the slight, vague though it was. In fact, he admitted, if Paul was insulting anyone, it was more likely him than Savannah.…

When he reached his car, Nash sat in the driver’s seat with his key poised in front of the ignition for a moment, brooding about his colleague and the competitiveness between them.

His mood lightened considerably as he made his way through the heavy traffic to the wedding shop. He’d been looking forward to this all day.

He found a parking spot and climbed out of his car, then fed the meter. As he turned away he caught sight of Savannah in the shop window, talking to a customer. Her face was aglow with enthusiasm and even from this distance her eyes sparkled. For a reason unknown to him, his pulse accelerated as joy surged through him.

He was happy to be seeing Savannah. Any man would, knowing he was about to be proven right. But this was more than that. This happiness was rooted in the knowledge that he’d be spending time with her.

Savannah must have felt his scrutiny, because she glanced upward and their eyes met briefly before she reluctantly pulled hers away. Although she continued speaking to her customer, Nash sensed that she’d experienced the same intensity of feeling he had. It was at moments such as this that he wished he could be privy to a woman’s thoughts. He would gladly have forfeited their bet to know if she was as surprised and puzzled as he felt. Nash couldn’t identify the feeling precisely; all he knew was that it made him uncomfortable.

The customer was leaving just as Nash entered the shop. Savannah was sitting at her desk and intuitively he realized she needed to sit periodically because of her leg. She looked fragile and confused. When she raised her eyes to meet his, he was shocked by the strength of her smile.

“You’re right on time,” she said.

“You would be, too, if you were about to have home-cooked meals personally served to you for the next week.”

“Don’t count on it, Counselor.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve already got the menu picked out. We’ll start the first night with broiled New York sirloin, Caesar salad and a three-layer chocolate cake.”

“You certainly love to dream,” she said with an effortless laugh. “I find it amusing that you never stopped to ask if I could cook. It’ll probably come as a surprise to learn that not all women are proficient in the kitchen. If by some odd quirk of fate you do happen to win this wager, you’ll dine on boxed macaroni and cheese or microwave meals for seven days and like it.”

Nash was stunned. She was right; he’d assumed she could cook as well as she seemed to manage everything else. Her shop was a testament to her talent, appealing to the eye in every respect. True, all those wedding gowns and satin pillows were aiding and abetting romance, but it had a homey, comfortable feel, as well. This wasn’t an easy thing to admit. A wedding shop was the last place on earth Nash ever thought he’d willingly visit.

“Are you ready to admit defeat?” he asked.

“Never, but before we get started I need to make a couple of phone calls. Do you mind?”

“Not in the least.” He was a patient man, and never more so than now. The longer they delayed, the better. It wasn’t likely that Paul would stay late, but Nash wanted to avoid introducing Savannah to him. More important, he wanted her to himself. The thought was unwelcome. This wasn’t a date and he had no romantic interest in Savannah Charles, he reminded himself.

Savannah reached for the phone and he wandered around the shop noticing small displays he’d missed on his prior visits. The first time he’d felt nervous; he didn’t know what to expect from a wedding coordinator, but certainly not the practical, gutsy woman he’d found.

He trained his ears not to listen in on her conversation, but the crisp, businesslike tone of her voice was surprisingly captivating.

It was happening again—that disturbing feeling was back, deep in the pit of his stomach. He’d felt it before, several years earlier, and it had nearly ruined his life. He was in trouble. Panic shot through his blood and he felt the overwhelming urge to turn and run in the opposite direction. The last time he’d had this feeling, he’d gotten married.

“I’m ready,” Savannah said, and stood.

Nash stared at her for a long moment as his brain processed what was going on.

“Nash?”

He gave himself a hard mental shake. He didn’t know if he was right about what had happened here, but he didn’t like it. “Do you mind riding with me?” he asked, once he’d composed himself.

“That’ll be fine.”

The drive back to his office building in downtown Seattle was spent in relative silence. Savannah seemed to sense his reflective mood. Another woman might have attempted to fill the space with idle chatter. Nash was grateful she didn’t.

After he’d parked, he led Savannah into his building and up the elevator to the law firm’s offices. She seemed impressed with the plush furnishings and the lavish view of Mount Rainier and Puget Sound from his twentieth-story window.

When she’d entered his office she’d walked directly to the window and set her purse on his polished oak credenza. “How do you manage to work with a view like this?” she asked, her voice soft with awe. She seemed mesmerized by the beauty that appeared before her.

After several years Nash had become immune to its splendor, but lately he’d begun to appreciate the solace he found there. The color of the sky reflected like a mirror on the water’s surface. On a gray and hazy morning, the water was a dull shade of steel. When the sun shone, Puget Sound was a deep, iridescent greenish blue. He enjoyed watching the ferries and other commercial and pleasure craft as they intersected the waterways. In the last while, he’d often stood in the same spot as Savannah and sorted through his thoughts.

“It’s all so beautiful,” she said, turning back to him. Hearing her give voice to his own feelings felt oddly comforting. The sooner he presented his argument, the better. The sooner he said what had to be said and put this woman out of his mind, the better.

“You ready?” he asked, flinging opening a file cabinet and withdrawing a handful of thick folders from the top drawer.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she said, taking a chair on the other side of his desk.

Nash slapped the files down on his credenza. “Let’s start with Adams versus Adams,” he muttered, flipping through the pages of the top folder. “Now, this was an interesting case. Married ten years, two sons. Then Martha learned that Bill was having an affair with a coworker, so she decided to have one herself, only she chose a nineteen-year-old boy. The child-custody battle lasted two months, destroyed them financially and ended so bitterly that Bill moved out of town and hasn’t been heard from since. Last I heard, Martha was clinically depressed and in and out of hospitals.”

Savannah gasped. “What about their sons?” she asked. “What happened to them?”

“Eventually they went to live with a relative. From what I understand, they’re both in counseling and have been for the last couple of years.”

“How very sad,” she whispered.

“Don’t kid yourself. This is only the beginning. I’m starting with the As and working my way through the file drawer. Let me know when you’ve had enough.” He reached for a second folder. “Anderson versus Anderson…Ah, yes, I remember this one. She attempted suicide three times, blackmailed him emotionally, used the children as weapons, wiped him out financially and then sued for divorce, claiming he was an unfit father.” His back was as stiff as his voice. He tossed aside that file and picked up the next.

“Allison versus Allison,” he continued crisply. “By the way, I’m changing the names to protect the guilty.”

“The guilty?”

“To my way of thinking, each participant in these cases is guilty of contributing to the disasters I’m telling you about. Each made a crucial mistake.”

“You’re about to suggest their first error was falling in love.”

“No,” he returned coldly, “it all started with the wedding vows. No two people should be expected to live up to that ideal. It isn’t humanly possible.”

“You’re wrong, Nash. People live up to those vows each and every day, in small ways and in large ones.”

Nash jabbed his finger against the stack of folders. “This says otherwise. Love isn’t meant to last. Couples are kidding themselves if they believe commitment lasts beyond the next morning. Life’s like that, and it’s time the rest of the world woke up and admitted it.”

“Oh, please!” Savannah cried, standing. She walked over to the window, her back to him, clenching and unclenching her fists. Nash wondered if she was aware of it, and doubted she was.

“Be honest, Savannah. Marriage doesn’t work anymore. Hasn’t in years. The institution is outdated. If you want to stick your head in the sand, then fine. But when others risk getting hurt, someone needs to tell the truth.” His voice rose with the heat of his argument.

Slowly she turned again and stared at him. An almost pitying look came over her.

“She must have hurt you very badly.” Savannah’s voice was so low, he had to strain to hear.

“Hurt me? What are you talking about?”

She shook her head as though she hadn’t realized she’d spoken out loud. “Your ex-wife.”

The anger that burned through Nash was like acid. “Who told you about Denise?” he demanded.

“No one,” she returned quickly.

He slammed the top file shut and stuffed the stack of folders back inside the drawer with little care and less concern. “How’d you know I was married?”

“I’m sorry, Nash, I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“Who told you?” The answer was obvious but he wanted her to say it.

“Susan mentioned it.…”

“How much did she tell you?”

“Just that it happened years ago.” Each word revealed her reluctance to drag his sister into the conversation. “She wasn’t breaking any confidences, if that’s what you think. I’m sure the only reason she brought it up was to explain your—”

“I know why she brought it up.”

“I apologize, Nash. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Why not? My file’s in another attorney’s cabinet, along with those of a thousand other fools just like me who were stupid enough to think love lasts.”

Savannah continued to stare at him. “You loved her, didn’t you?”

“As much as any foolish twenty-four-year-old loves anyone. Would you mind if we change the subject?”

“Susan’s twenty-four.”

“Exactly,” he said, slapping his hand against the top of his desk. “And she’s about to make the same foolish choice I did.”

“But, Nash…”

“Have you heard enough, or do you need to listen to a few more cases?”

“I’ve heard enough.”

“Good. Let’s get out of here.” The atmosphere in the office was stifling. It was as though each and every client he’d represented over the years was there to remind him of the pain he’d lived through himself—only he’d come away smarter than most.

“Do you want me to drive you back to the office or would you prefer I take you home?” he asked.

“No,” Savannah said as they walked out of the office. He purposely adjusted his steps to match her slower gait. “If you don’t mind, I’d prefer to have our, uh, wager settled this evening.”

“Fine with me.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to head for my parents’ home. I want you to meet them.”

“Sure, why not?” he asked flippantly. His anger simmered just below the surface. Maybe this wasn’t such a brilliant idea after all.…

Savannah gave him the address and directions. The drive on the freeway was slowed by heavy traffic, which frustrated him even more. By the time they reached the exit, his nerves were frayed. He was about to suggest they do this another evening when she instructed him to take a left at the next light. They turned the corner, drove a block and a half down and were there.

They were walking toward the house when a tall, burly man with a thinning hairline hurried out the front door. “Savannah, sweetheart,” he greeted them with a huge grin. “So this is the young man you’re going to marry.”