Meant-To-Be Marriage

“Hello, Sydney—” Jarod whispered.

“You’re the last person on earth I ever expected to see again in this lifetime…let alone here,” she began.

“It’s a long story.” His voice rasped. “I came as soon as I could.”

She stared at him in utter bewilderment. “What do you mean?”

He cocked his dark, attractive head. “The day you left town you asked me if I would leave with you. At the time, I couldn’t give you an answer.”

That moment had been so excruciating, she experienced physical pain all over again remembering it. Anger consumed her.

“So now you’ve decided you can?” she mocked in raw agony, remembering the kiss he’d given her that had said “goodbye forever.”

PRAISE FOR REBECCA WINTERS

Wonderfully unique every time, Rebecca Winters creates powerful stories that will leave you on a romantic high!

“Rebecca Winters always manages to grab the reader’s attention and keep it.”

—www.writersunlimited.com

“Rebecca Winters provides a deep poignant tale with characters readers will appreciate and like.”

—www.thebestreviews.com

Look out for Rebecca’s next book,

Having the Frenchman’s Baby

On sale in August,

Harlequin Romance #3905

This is the first book in an

exciting new continuity,

THE BRIDES OF BELLA LUCIA!

Meant-To-Be Marriage

Rebecca Winters

Rebecca Winters, whose family of four children has now swelled to include three beautiful grandchildren, lives in Salt Lake City, Utah, in the land of the Rocky Mountains. With canyons and high Alpine meadows full of wildflowers, she never runs out of places to explore, and they—along with her favorite vacation spots in Europe—often end up as backgrounds for her Harlequin Romance® novels. Writing is her passion, along with her family and church. Rebecca loves to hear from her readers. If you wish to e-mail her, please visit her Web site at: www.rebeccawinters.com

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

“I ABSOLUTELY REFUSE to let the memory of a priest ruin my entire life! Since he’ll always be forbidden to me, let this be the end of my pain.”

So saying, Sydney tossed her sheaf of roses into the water and watched the waves carry it out to sea. Turning swiftly away, she hurried up the sandy path to the backyard of the Brysons’ fabulous San Diego home.

Now that the honeymooners had gone, the grounds overlooking the Pacific Ocean had emptied of wedding guests. Except for the maids who were cleaning up, Sydney found herself alone.

Earlier, she and the wedding party had greeted a crowd of several hundred who’d congregated here after the Friday afternoon church service. The prominent Bryson family had spared no expense for their only daughter’s nuptials.

Ranger Gilly Bryson King had been claimed as the bride of Dr. Alex Latimer, the legendary ranger in charge of the Volcano Observatory at Yellowstone Park.

Like the handsome prince and the beautiful princess in a fairy tale, the radiant couple in a black tuxedo and flowing white wedding dress had stood a little distance off with the pounding surf below providing the breathtaking backdrop.

Being the maid of honor, Sydney had wanted to look her best for her dear friend. As a result, she’d taken particular care to find the right pink-frost lipstick to highlight the mold of her wide, curving mouth. A little blusher on her cheekbones, the kind only a close friend like Gilly would say made her such a classic beauty, and she’d been ready to face guests.

Among them were a large group of rangers from Yellowstone and Teton Parks who’d flown down for the wedding, which had been a huge affair. Somehow Sydney had been able to get through the festivities without any of her former colleagues being the wiser concerning her latest plans.

Two weeks earlier, Chief Ranger Archer had reluctantly accepted her resignation as a park ranger. Per her wishes, he’d promised to keep quiet about it until she’d left the Park for good.

Sydney had already vacated her cabin, and had moved into a furnished apartment in Gardiner, Montana, before coming to the wedding. No one but the chief knew she’d be teaching school there for the next year. That was the way she wanted it. Otherwise people would ask questions she wasn’t ready to answer.

Except for Gilly, her former co-workers wouldn’t understand that her unexpected career change had been made out of a desperate need for self-preservation. It seemed that being a ranger hadn’t brought the forgetfulness she’d craved.

After a quick visit to her parents in Bismarck, she would fly to Gardiner to begin her new life. Hopefully her teaching duties would force her not to dwell on a love that was never meant to be. Otherwise her whole future was destined to be an eternal punishment.

Once more she looked out at the sea. The late August sun was about to set. Its rays created a golden nimbus that gilded her jaw-length blond curls. Even without a breeze, they had a tendency to look a little windswept due to the expertise of a clever stylist.

As her gaze watched the fiery orange ball drop into the ocean and disappear, she noticed to her dismay that the undercurrent had brought her brilliant pink flowers back to shore. Their battered heads lay strewn across the sand, a frightening omen.

Normally the tiny flecks in her irises took on the color of most any outfit she chose to wear, like the hyacinth tone of her lace-trimmed suit. Once upon a time the man who was out of reach to her forever—the man she shouldn’t be thinking about now—the man who’d ruined her for all other men in existence—had told her he counted half the hues of the spectrum in them ranging from gray-green to lavender-blue.

Right now her eyes were haunted and resembled a dark sky seconds before a tornado touched down. Sydney let out a frightened cry and dashed inside the house to change and pack for her early flight to Bismarck in the morning.

It was close to midnight when Jarod Kendall pulled the car into the driveway of the rectory in Cannon, North Dakota. After the grueling session at church headquarters in Bismarck, followed by the hour’s drive home, Jarod didn’t know how another priest in his situation would be feeling right now.

He couldn’t speak for anyone else. All he knew was relief that the struggle was finally over.

“Father?” Rick’s voice called to him from the bottom of the staircase after he’d let himself in the house.

“I didn’t realize you were still awake.”

“Welcome back. Kay’s asleep. I wanted to clear a few things with you before we leave for church in the morning. It’ll only take a moment, but if you’re too—”

His deacon stopped talking midsentence. He’d drawn close enough to see that Jarod was wearing a man’s regular business suit and tie. There was nothing about him to remind anyone even remotely that he’d once worn priestly robes.

Jarod had hoped to spare Rick the shock tonight, but since he was still up, maybe it was better this way. To have waited until morning would have made it harder on Rick, who’d be expected to carry on as if nothing was wrong. At least this way he’d have the rest of the night to absorb it and talk it over with Kay.

No matter how torn Jarod was to have left the priesthood, the luxury to be able to turn to your wife, whether in passion or the need for comfort, was something he craved.

“Come in my study, Rick. I have some news for you.”

Like a sleepwalker, Rick followed him inside.

“Sit down,” Jarod invited before taking his own seat behind the desk.

The other man sank into the leather chair, looking pale. “When you went on vacation this last week, Kay and I wondered if something was wrong. We thought you might be ill and didn’t want anyone to know.”

“I have been ill, Rick. So ill, in fact, that two months ago, I took the final step to get well and laid my case before the church. As of today, I’m no longer Father Kendall.”

A gasp from the other man resounded in the study.

“Tomorrow, Father Lane will be officiating as the parochial vicar until a new priest has been announced.”

Rick’s eyes filled with tears. “Why?”

“Before you and Kay moved here, I fell in love with a woman named Sydney Taylor who left over fifteen months ago. She was a high school English teacher who encouraged one of her students to get professional counseling through the church.

“Brenda Halverson was sixteen, and had just found out she was going to have a baby. Her first instinct was to end her unwanted pregnancy. Since she was terrified to tell her parents, she wrote about it in the daily journal she kept for Sydney’s English class.

“From the moment I met Sydney, who accompanied the girl to her first session with me, my life has been conflicted. At Brenda’s insistence, Sydney came to all the sessions with her, but the truth is, we couldn’t stay away from each other.

“Sometimes I’ve noticed you watching me with concern. No doubt you were witnessing my struggle to try to forget her. A few months ago I made inquiries and found out she’s still single.

“Before you attempt to dissuade me from the decision I’ve already made, let me assure you I’ve had fifteen months to search my soul for what is right for me. Fifteen months to consider what I’d be giving up. Fifteen months to realize that once I left, there’d be no going back.

“I’m not like some of the parishioners who’ve come to me because they’ve been suffering in a bad marriage and want a divorce. I love the Church. It goes without saying I love my life in it. It tears me apart to have to make a choice, but I love Sydney too much. Since I can’t have both, I’ve left the priesthood to go after her.

“You have no idea how I envy you and Kay. As far as I’m concerned, seeing you together enjoying all the blessings of marriage while you serve the Church has to be the epitome of joy in this life.”

Jarod noticed his friend’s shoulders shaking in silent grief.

“The question of married clergy has always been out there, Rick. I don’t know why I haven’t been able to put her out of my mind and heart. We’ve had no contact in all that time. Absolutely nothing. And yet…I’m on fire for her,” he whispered fiercely.

Rick’s head reared. “Then she doesn’t know what you’ve done—”

“No. But I’m convinced she hasn’t married because she hasn’t been able to put me out of her mind, either. Yet I could hardly go to her as an ordained priest.

“When I face her, it has to be as a free man. She has to see me as an ordinary male before her mind will allow her to peel away the layers of Father Kendall from her consciousness.”

“I can understand that,” he said at last. “When your petition is put through to the Vatican, will they grant you laicization?”

“Probably not. Leaving the priesthood without permission is something I’m going to have to live with. But as I’ve discovered, living without Sydney would mean I’d only half exist from here on out, which isn’t fair to the parish. That’s not the life I want to live.”

“Heaven knows I don’t blame you, Jarod. I thought I wanted to become a priest…until I met Kay.”

“Thank you for your honesty, Rick. But not many others will be as understanding. You think I don’t realize how many people I’ll be letting down, who’ve grown to depend on me? The money the Church spent on my training? The effect my leaving will have on the other priests in the diocese when they learn that Father Kendall has left the priesthood?”

“But not the Church!” Rick’s voice rang out.

“No. Never that.”

Rick let out a pained sigh. “You’re so certain she still feels the same way?”

“Deep down I believe she does, yes.”

“What if she’s changed?”

“That’s a risk I have to take.”

“Have you considered she might turn you down?”

“It’s a real possibility. But no matter her circumstances, I have to go to her unencumbered if I expect her to listen to me.”

“And if she doesn’t, you’ll have given up all you achieved in the hope that she still loves you.”

“Yes.”

By this time Rick was on his feet. He stared hard at Jarod. “Did you sleep with her?”

“No. We held each other for a brief moment when she told me she was leaving, but we didn’t do anything but ache for each other.”

A bewildered look crossed over his face. “Then—”

“It doesn’t matter, Rick. There was this feeling between us that transcends my ability to put into words. Fifteen months are gone. I’m going to be thirty-eight on my next birthday. Every minute that passes is taking something away from us we can’t get back.”

“You won’t be able to marry in the Church.”

“I know.”

“Is she devout?”

“She’s not Catholic.”

“What?”

“She was baptized in the Lutheran church, but hasn’t attended any church in years.”

“Forgive me, Father, but in your case that might help.”

A strange sound escaped Jarod’s throat. “I’m not a priest anymore, Rick.”

“You are to me.”

“Besides the Bishop at the diocese, you’ve been my closest friend. So I’m going to remind you there’s no magic solution here. It would require turning back the clock and arranging for Sydney to teach at a school anywhere in North Dakota but Cannon so we wouldn’t have met.”

“Kay’s going to take this hard. She thinks of you as the perfect priest.”

Jarod frowned. “That’s the trouble with perfection. There is no such thing.”

“In her heart she’ll be rooting for you, Jarod.”

“I know that. To help her out, I’ll be gone long before she wakes up in the morning. It’ll make it easier for everyone. Father Lane will stay here for the interim to oversee the affairs of the parish. He’ll tell everyone I’ve gone on retreat. By the time the new priest is announced, it’ll be a smooth transition.”

“How will you live?”

Rick’s question jerked Jarod out of his reverie.

“I’ve made tentative arrangements to do counseling in Gardiner, Montana. It’s a town five miles from Yellowstone Park. That way when Sydney and I are married, she can continue to be a park ranger if that’s what she wants to do.”

“She’s a ranger?”

“Yes.”

“And she doesn’t know you’re coming?”

“No.” His hands formed into fists. “What I need is the element of surprise. No matter what she says to my face, I’ll be able to read the truth of her initial feelings in her eyes.”

“She might faint on you. Have you thought of that?”

“I don’t think she’s the type.”

“I would think any woman was the type if she were suddenly confronted by the man she’d once known as Father Kendall.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “You’re the most courageous man I’ve ever known.”

“Courageous—” Jarod blurted incredulously.

“Yes. For knowing your heart well enough to face yourself and God with the absolute conviction you’re doing the right thing.”

He shook his head. “You’re one in a million, Rick. But being sure of my decision doesn’t take away the pain of leaving the life I’ve loved all these years. It’s tearing me apart,” he confessed.

“It tears me up, too. I’m going to miss you.”

“The feeling’s mutual.” The two men stared solemnly at each other before Jarod said, “It’s past time for bed. You’re going to have a full day tomorrow helping Father Lane get oriented.”

“I’m going upstairs, but promise me something first.”

“For you, anything.”

“Stay in touch.”

“Of course.”

Rick paused in the doorway. “I’ve loved and revered Father Kendall. That hasn’t changed because he has set off on a new path. If there’s to be a wedding in the future, Kay and I would come in an instant. I would consider it an honor to stand up for you if you want me there.”

Jarod’s eyes smarted as he studied his friend. “It’s not a case of if, but when.”

Sydney had arranged for a rental car ahead of time. When she arrived in Bismarck, she had every intention of driving straight to her parents’ home beyond the city limits.

But after leaving the airport, the road sign for Cannon loomed up on her right. Only forty-five miles away and she could satisfy her craving to see him again at Mass. It began at ten. She still had enough time to make it. He’d never know she was there if she stayed at the back of the church.

Just a few minutes to last the rest of her life…

Despising herself for giving in to her weakness, yet helpless to do anything else, she pushed caution aside and headed west. She pressed on the accelerator, unconcerned that a highway patrol car would probably pull her over at this speed.

She didn’t care. Her heart was beating so wildly, she needed the physical release. Right now nothing mattered but to feast her eyes on him again.

Except for a few small housing developments that had sprung up in the last year, Cannon hadn’t changed a great deal. If it had, she wouldn’t have noticed anyway. All her attention was riveted to the parish church at the end of Jefferson Street.

Sydney had worn a blue blouse and khaki skirt on the plane. Her outfit was dressy enough to fit in with the other women walking up the steps to enter.

After parking the car, she waited outside the doors until it was almost ten on the dot, then joined a group of people and followed them inside. They would provide enough cover for her to slip inside the last pew.

The people who preceded her had the same idea, so she sat down next to them, keeping her head bowed. But it came up when she heard a different male voice lead the mass.

An older priest was conducting.

Where was Father Kendall?

Crushed with pain and disappointment, Sydney had no choice but to sit there until the mass ended. The second it was over she stole out of the church.

By the time she reached the car, an older woman was getting in the one next to her. She nodded to Sydney, who couldn’t prevent herself from asking, “Do you happen to know why Father Kendall wasn’t there today?”

“Someone said he was ill.”

The news devastated Sydney. “That’s too bad.”

“I agree. There’s no one like him.”

No. No one…

She flashed the woman a forced smile. “Have a lovely day.”

In the next instant, Sydney climbed in the car and drove off, afraid the other woman might want to prolong the conversation. She couldn’t let that happen.

He was ill?

How ill?

It she called his office, he would eventually see her caller ID and know she hadn’t had the discipline to leave him alone after all.

“You’re out of your mind, Sydney Taylor!”

With tears gushing down her cheeks, she drove back to Bismarck faster than ever. En route she phoned her parents and told them her rental car had suffered a flat tire, which was the reason she’d been detained.

No one could ever know what she’d done. Never, never again would she waste time dwelling on Father Kendall. This was the end, the absolute end of her fixation on him. As of this second, IT WAS FINISHED!

Two hours later she followed her father through the back door of the house into the kitchen. After riding horses with him for a little while, she needed a shower.

“Lunch is ready,” her mother announced.

“I’ll be with you in five minutes,” Sydney promised.

She made it back to the table in four, wearing a clean pair of jeans and a blouse. The only difference between her outfit and her parents’ was that her top wasn’t plaid.

“Pot roast. My favorite. Thanks, Mom.”

Old customs died hard on the plains of North Dakota. Sydney’s grandparents and great-grandparents had always served the big meal at midday. Her parents were no different. Beef was usually on the menu.

“What do you think of the North Forty now?” Her mother’s question jerked Sydney from her perilous thoughts. The disastrous detour to Cannon had left her shaken and filled with more questions. What if Jarod was seriously ill? She couldn’t bear it if that were true.

“I noticed you’ve gotten rid of a lot of the leafy spurge since June,” Sydney murmured before taking another bite of corn on the cob.

Her mother smiled. “Your father decided to try those beetles instead of spraying.”

“That was a smart move, Dad.”

“They haven’t gotten rid of all of the weeds, but they’ve reduced a fair amount. It didn’t cost me as much.”

He reached for another helping of roast. “That fellow from the fish and game department knew what he was talking about.”

“I’m glad you listened to him.”

Her mother passed her the bowl of salad. “After we eat, Lydia wants us to come over for dessert.”

“Sounds good.” It had been a while since Sydney had seen her aunt and uncle. “How’s Jenny?” Her cousin was about ready to have her first baby. Sydney had bought her a present while she’d been in California.

“Blossoming.”

“Have they thought of a name yet?”

“Joe.” Her father said with a smile.

Sydney nodded. “Can’t go wrong with a name like that.” Jenny’s husband was named Joe. Obviously she’d gone along with the decision. Whatever Joe wanted was fine with her. They had a good marriage. So did Sydney’s parents.

On the whole, her mother went along with her dad, but there’d been moments in the past when she’d put her foot down. Very few of them however.

“Did I tell you our ladies group gave Jenny a new car seat and a stroller at her baby shower?”

“That’s nice, Mom.”

“Some of them are still working on a quilt for her.”

“What a lucky baby.”

While her parents enjoyed a second cup of coffee, Sydney got up and started clearing the table.

Her mother brought their empty coffee mugs to the sink. “Someday you’ll be married and have a husband and children of your own, too.”

Sydney had to tamp down her frustration. After taking several deep breaths, she swung around. “Maybe I won’t, Mom. Don’t count on it.”

Don’t count on my ever falling in love with anyone else.

Her father joined them at the sink. “Tell us what happened with that fellow Chip from Idaho. We thought he was the one.”

“I was never in love with him. That’s why it didn’t work.”

“All along there’s been someone else, hasn’t there?”

She couldn’t lie to her parents. “Yes.”

“Is he still in Cannon?” her mother questioned.

Sydney’s heart plunged to the floor. Her emotions were in too much chaos after driving there. Anything that involved Father Kendall made her almost physically ill. That’s how she felt right now. Especially not knowing how serious his condition was.

How many more years had to pass before the mere thought of him held no power over her? What if his illness was fatal?

Dear God.

“Honey?”

Sydney bowed her head. “Can we please change the subject?”

“You’ll feel better if you talk about it,” her father persisted. “Until you started teaching in Cannon, you were our happy girl.”

Her mother eyed her with concern. “Since you can’t discuss it with us, I think you ought to call Pastor Gregson and have a chat with him while you’re here.”

Sydney let out a frustrated cry. “I’m twenty-six, Mom, hardly a little girl anymore. Pastor Gregson is a stranger to me. In any event, he’d be the last person to understand.” Sydney could just imagine their conversation.