Ready for Marriage?: The Marriage Ultimatum / Laying His Claim / The Bride Tamer

* * *

Her phone rang just as she was getting out of the shower that evening. She wrapped a bath sheet around her and sprinted for her bedroom, where the closest handset was. ‘‘Hello?’’

‘‘We have to talk,’’ Derek said without preamble.

‘‘There isn’t anything to talk about.’’

‘‘You know that’s not true,’’ he said. ‘‘Kris, you can’t just cut yourself out of Mollie’s life so suddenly. She depends on you.’’

‘‘It’s not like I’m moving to California. I’ll be two miles away.’’

‘‘But she sees you almost every day.’’

‘‘All right.’’ She threw an exasperated hand into the air even though he couldn’t see her. ‘‘I’ll come by a couple days a week and have lunch with her after you get a new sitter.’’ She made an effort to soften her tone. ‘‘That way she won’t feel like I’m abandoning her.’’

‘‘I wish you wouldn’t do this.’’ His voice was soft and persuasive.

She wavered, nearly succumbing to the plea. But then she recalled the way he’d refused to take her seriously yesterday. ‘‘I have to,’’ she said equally softly. ‘‘I need to start living my own life, Derek. And so do you.’’

‘‘What does that mean?’’ There was a note of suspicion in his tone now.

She sighed. What could she say that would persuade him to stop trying to change her mind? ‘‘We spend far too much of our free time together.’’

‘‘So?’’

‘‘So we each need to learn to live alone.’’

‘‘Yesterday you wanted to marry me.’’

‘‘Yes,’’ she said steadily, ‘‘I did.’’ If he was trying to get her goat, he was succeeding. ‘‘But you made your position crystal-clear so I might as well accept it.’’

‘‘I think you’re punishing me for telling you no.’’

‘‘I am not!’’ she said indignantly. ‘‘I just think it’s time we all moved on. Deb’s been gone almost three years, and we’ve floated along in the same arrangement we had before she died. It can’t be good for any of us and if it isn’t going to be permanent, then we need to recognize that. I want a family of my own someday and no man is going to be interested in me as long as I’m so involved with you and Mollie.’’ Lordy, she hoped he didn’t take that statement at more than face value. She was already feeling humiliated enough without having him know that she had feelings for him.

There was a heavy silence on the line and she held her breath. Derek could barely stand to have his wife’s name mentioned; how was he going to react to that statement?

Then he sighed. ‘‘Maybe you’re right,’’ he said quietly. ‘‘It isn’t fair of me to monopolize you indefinitely. You’ve been so wonderful with Mollie that it was easy for me to forget you have your own life to live.’’

‘‘Thank you.’’ She had to work to keep her throat from closing up. This was a poor second-best option if she couldn’t have him. It was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do in her entire life. ‘‘I have to go. See you Monday.’’

‘‘Kris?’’ She loved the way he said her nickname. No one else had ever called her that.

‘‘Yes?’’

‘‘I don’t want to lose touch. Promise me you won’t dump us completely.’’

She laughed, perilously close to tears again. ‘‘I’d never do that. You and Mollie are the only family I have.’’

There was a small, warm silence.

‘‘’Night,’’ she said.

‘‘’Night.’’ His voice was affectionate.

Slowly, she hung up the phone and sank down on the side of her bed, heedless of the damp towel, fighting back the sobs that tightened her chest.

As she reached for a tissue, the phone rang again. She checked the caller ID, tempted to ignore it, but when she recognized the voice of the treasurer of the animal sanctuary’s board, she thought she’d better take it. The time was well past nine, not a usual time for him to be calling. She hoped there wasn’t a problem.

Two

She called Derek back moments later.

‘‘Kris,’’ he said patiently before she could get out a word, ‘‘I thought we’d finished this discussion.’’ Apparently he’d checked his caller ID as well.

‘‘Don’t be an ass. I’m calling about something else.’’ Her voice broke, ruining the sharp retort.

‘‘What’s wrong?’’ His voice changed instantly. ‘‘Are you all right?’’

She took a deep breath, striving for calm. ‘‘Cathie Balisle was killed in a collision an hour ago.’’

‘‘What?’’ Derek was instantly diverted from their personal exchange. ‘‘What happened?’’

Cathie Balisle was the executive director of the Appalachian Animal Sanctuary. Kristin’s father had hired her when he’d gotten a million-dollar bequest not long after the sanctuary had opened and she’d turned out to be a perfect choice for the job. ‘‘Drunk driver,’’ Kristin told him. ‘‘Rusty Sheffield just called. I told him I’d call you.’’

‘‘Man, that’s bad news.’’ She could picture him running a hand through his hair like he always did when he was agitated, ruffling the dark waves into disordered spikes. ‘‘I can’t believe it.’’

‘‘I know.’’ Her throat felt too tight to speak. Although they hadn’t been close on a personal basis, Cathie and she had worked on AAS projects together many times, and Cathie had been her father’s choice to head the sanctuary. ‘‘All that energy and drive, just—just gone.’’

Derek exhaled heavily. ‘‘What’s the board going to do?’’

‘‘I doubt anyone’s even thought about that yet,’’ she said, ‘‘but I imagine we’ll advertise immediately. Interview and hire as fast as we possibly can.’’ The sanctuary was a large facility with a big budget and constant management issues. They couldn’t afford to be without an executive director.

‘‘Let me know as soon as you hear when the funeral is. We’ll get a sitter for Mollie so we both can go.’’ Derek’s deep voice was compassionate.

Wryly, she noted that he apparently had forgotten what she’d said about separating their lives, but she didn’t have the energy to battle with him right now. ‘‘Okay.’’

‘‘Thanks for calling. Keep me posted.’’ Derek had taken Paul Gordon’s seat on the board until Kristin had finished college and had time to fill the vacancy. Although he was no longer directly involved in that end of things he still liked to keep abreast of the sanctuary’s agenda.

The following day, Kristin learned that Cathie’s funeral was scheduled for two days later at eleven in the morning.

When she called to tell him, Derek said, ‘‘I’ll close the clinic for a few hours. Sandy says she’ll come over to the house and watch Mollie while we’re gone.’’

‘‘Tell her thank you,’’ Kristin offered.

‘‘I’ll just bring her over when I pick you up at ten-thirty.’’

She hesitated, thinking of her new resolve. ‘‘That’s not necessary.’’

He was silent for a moment. ‘‘This isn’t the time for prickly independence, Kris,’’ he said quietly. ‘‘We do this kind of stuff together.’’

Funerals, he meant. As they’d done first her father’s, and then his wife’s. Together. Suddenly, it occurred to her that the funeral of a young woman might be difficult for him. ‘‘All right,’’ she said, her heart aching for him.

Kristin hadn’t stayed for dinner any night since she’d issued that ultimatum. Despite that, Derek was all too aware that she still made sure there was a hot meal waiting for Mollie and him at the end of the day when he came home.

He used to look forward to getting home, to having Mollie run into his arms while he and Kristin traded smiles as she babbled about her day. To sitting on the stool in the kitchen with Mollie on his lap while he told Kris about his day, to her reactions to everything from animals he’d been unable to save to owners who thought he was crazy to bill them for certain services. This week, he’d been called out of bed in the middle of the night to try to save a dog who’d been hit by a car while running loose. The dog died, and the owners couldn’t understand why he billed them. He’d had to take Mollie to the spare bedroom at the clinic until Kristin arrived to get her. Then he’d had to call his surgical technician to come in, and they had worked for three hours and administered several bags of IV fluids before the dog finally succumbed to shock.

But Kristin hadn’t heard that story, because she hadn’t stuck around to talk since Tuesday. Dinner was on the table when he arrived and she was out the door before he even had his coat off. He’d eaten alone with Mollie—which wasn’t a bad thing, he hastened to assure himself. It was just that he’d gotten used to the adult companionship.

And if he was honest, he missed her. He was actually looking forward to Cathie’s funeral today because he would have some time to talk to Kris.

But when he picked her up for the funeral, she was unusually quiet. Despite the warmth of the early June morning, she was wearing a black pantsuit with a matching jacket and her oval face was unreadable. This was probably hitting her hard. Cathie had known Kris’s dad, in a way had been one of the few remaining links to her past.

He held the car door for her and then went around to his own seat. As they drove toward the funeral home, she was still quiet.

‘‘How was your morning?’’ he asked.

That elicited a brief smile. ‘‘Fine. I took Mollie to play with the Mothers of Preschoolers group at the Methodist church. She’s in love with Jethrup Sowers’s little boy. They walked around holding hands the whole time.’’

He chuckled. ‘‘Sounds like more fun than mine. Three overweight, geriatric dachshunds whose owner doesn’t understand why they’re having back trouble, a macaw who’s plucking her own feathers and a Yorkie with a broken leg.’’

‘‘How did it get broken?’’

‘‘Stepped on.’’

Silence.

Derek felt like a fidgety fourth-grader again as he braked for a red light. ‘‘Has the board spoken at all about hiring someone to—to replace Cathie?’’ He felt crass, voicing the thought aloud but Cathie had loved the sanctuary and he knew she’d be concerned if she were in their position.

‘‘No. Not yet.’’ Kris was gazing out the window. Her hands lay limply in her lap and without thinking he reached over and put one of his atop them.

The moment he touched her he knew it was a mistake. Dammit! All these years they’d been friends, and ever since she’d said what she’d said, he’d been more aware of her physically than he had any woman since…since he was young. Her hands were warm, her skin silky, and he resisted the fierce urge to smooth his thumb across the tender flesh. If her hands were that silky—cut it out, Derek.

Kris hadn’t moved a muscle since he’d touched her. Now, she looked down at her lap, where his much larger hand easily covered both her dainty ones. His fingers actually curled around and under hers and he could feel the give of her thigh, soft and very warm, beneath the backs of his fingers.

She lifted her head and looked at him and he felt as if he’d been hit in the stomach, breathless, gasping for air. Her eyes were as green as emeralds sparkling in sunshine, soft and vulnerable, and a bolt of intense sexual attraction shot through him with the unexpected ferocity of a clap of summer thunder.

‘‘Stop it,’’ he said harshly, barely aware of the words. He pulled his hand away as if touching her would blister his skin.

Her eyebrows rose in bewilderment. ‘‘Stop what?’’

‘‘Stop teasing me.’’ The instant he said it, he knew it was unfair, but he was too stirred up to retreat. In some weird way, he wanted to have a rip-roaring fight with her.

‘‘Teasing you?’’ She repeated the words as if they were in a foreign language. Then he saw fire kindle in her eyes. ‘‘Teasing you! I was doing nothing of the kind.’’ She sucked in a breath of outrage. ‘‘You were the one who touched me!’’

‘‘I’m not talking about touching.’’ Although he’d probably give up the deed to his home if he could put his hands on that yielding, tender flesh again. ‘‘I’m talking about the come-hither looks.’’ The light finally changed and he started through the intersection. The church was only two blocks away.

‘‘The…’’ Her voice trailed off into silence. ‘‘What on earth is the matter with you? I wouldn’t know how to give a ‘come-hither look’ if my life depended on it.’’

He was already regretting his words, aware that he wasn’t exactly acting rationally, but the steady increase in arousal he was experiencing, a longing that only grew sharper as the tension grew between them, prevented him from admitting it. Staring through the front windshield, he concentrated on his driving.

Beside him, Kristin made a small motion of frustration that he caught in his peripheral vision. ‘‘You,’’ she said in a controlled, precise tone, ‘‘are a jerk.’’

And those were the last words spoken. He parked at the church and she was out of the car and stalking across the parking lot before he could come around to get her door. He took long strides to catch up with her although she completely ignored him, signing her name in the register and slipping into a seat near the back of the quiet room. He took the seat beside her, and she made a production out of moving over so that her body didn’t brush his.

Hell. What was he going to do about Kristin? Nothing. She’s too young for you. But ever since she’d mentioned marriage and he’d begun to think of her as a woman rather than the girl he’d felt responsible for for the past eight years, he hadn’t been able to ignore her lithe figure.

The funeral service began then, and he tuned in with relief, shoving aside his troubled thoughts. Most of the board members of the animal sanctuary were there, as were employees and a lot of other local people who had come to know Cathie through her skillful fund-raising efforts. He’d closed his clinic, and Faye was there as well, along with several other members of the staff.

Beside him, he was aware that Kristin was crying quietly as the minister delivered a touching eulogy. Fishing in his pocket, he offered her his handkerchief, but she studiously ignored him and pulled a tissue from her own pocket. He wanted badly to put his arm around her and offer her comfort—but he suspected that after the way he’d behaved, she’d chew off his arm at the shoulder. Instead, all he could do was watch her from the corner of his eye. He could practically feel the control she exerted to quiet herself.

By the time the service ended, she was calm again. They made the short ride to the cemetery in utter silence and joined the other mourners for the brief graveside service. Afterward, Kristin stepped forward to speak briefly to Cathie’s parents. He did the same, but then got caught by one of the animal sanctuary’s board members who asked him in a quiet undertone if he had any suggestions for a replacement for Cathie. He shook his head and hurried to catch up with Kris.

As he came up behind her near the car, he realized she was crying again. She wept silently, her slender shoulders shaking and he stood there awkwardly, wondering what to do. He clenched his fists to prevent himself from reaching out and touching her. But after a moment, he couldn’t take the quiet sobbing anymore and he raised his arms and slipped them around her, pulling her close.

She burrowed against him instantly like a small creature seeking shelter from harm, her arms tightening around his waist. But almost as instantly she stiffened in his arms. ‘‘I’m not teasing you.’’ Her voice was muffled in his chest.

A wave of tenderness surged through him and he stroked a hand down her back. ‘‘I know. I’m sorry for that…earlier. I was just in a filthy mood.’’

She didn’t reply, but her body relaxed against his, and she let him hold her.

It was a mistake again, touching her, but at least this time he was prepared for the rush of awareness that tightened his gut and made his whole body feel hot and tingly. He bent his head and brushed his lips over the crown of her head. ‘‘I’m sorry. I know you really liked Cathie.’’

She nodded. ‘‘I did.’’ He could feel her warm breath through his summer-weight shirt and an involuntary shiver chased down his spine. ‘‘Daddy chose her, you know.’’

He nodded, understanding her grief. ‘‘I know. Brings it all back, doesn’t it?’’

She nodded.

Over her head, he saw Faye walking along the edge of the narrow road that wound through the cemetery. As she picked her way around his car, her gaze met his, and she gave him a smug, knowing smile.

He stifled a ridiculous urge to stick his tongue out at her and helped Kristin into the car. As he drove her home again, he clung to denial: a marriage between them was a ludicrous thought. She was young, fresh. He was a widower with a child. Their personalities didn’t mesh in any way as his had with Deb’s. They’d fight. It would never work.

The next day was her Saturday to volunteer at the animal sanctuary. She dressed in baggy khaki shorts and a comfortably oversize T-shirt, grabbed a toaster pastry and reached for her car keys. The whole time she was getting ready, she was worrying at the problem of finding a new executive director, mentally writing an ad to place.

But when she opened her door, Faye Proctor stood on the other side. Kristin nearly barreled into her, jolting to a halt with a gasp of surprise.

Faye put a hand to her throat and chuckled. ‘‘Lordy, you startled me!’’

‘‘You startled me, too.’’ She opened the door and gestured for Faye to enter. ‘‘Come on in. I have to help at Appalachian today but I have a few minutes. What’s up?’’

Faye sank onto the couch in Kristin’s small living room and Kristin took a seat opposite her. When their eyes met, Faye’s usually cheerful gaze was surprisingly sober. ‘‘Derek told me about your suggestion last week.’’

Great. If a person could vanish in a puff of smoke, Kristin fervently wished it would happen right now. This very moment. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, feeling heat creep into her face, but when she opened them, Faye was still there, gazing patiently at her.

‘‘Oh,’’ said Kristin weakly. ‘‘That…rat.’’

Faye laughed. ‘‘I betcha ‘rat’ isn’t the word you really want to use!’’

‘‘Well, no,’’ she said, smiling a little, ‘‘it’s not.’’

‘‘I don’t mean to pry,’’ Faye assured her. ‘‘The thing is, I agree with you, honey.’’

Kristin stared at the older woman, speechless. She did?

‘‘Dr. Mahoney’s a great boss,’’ Faye said, ‘‘and I love working for him. But it’s been hard to watch him shut himself away from everything but that little girl since dear Debbie died. You’re all that’s kept him from folding his tents completely—’’

‘‘I don’t know about that,’’ Kristin interrupted.

‘‘I do,’’ Faye said. ‘‘You make him eat and go to work. You help with his housework and do his laundry. You’ve raised Miss Mollie, don’t think you haven’t.’’

‘‘That may be true, but as Derek pointed out to me, those aren’t reasons to get married.’’ She shrugged, trying to stave off the hurt the memory produced. They’d patched up their disagreement, if that was what that odd, charged exchange in which he’d accused her of teasing him had been, but there had been an uncomfortable strain between them that had lingered until she’d thanked him for the ride and slid out of his car.

Faye snorted. ‘‘That man can’t see his nose on his own darn face. Don’t you pay him any mind.’’

Kristin tilted her head. ‘‘What do you mean?’’

‘‘Any fool can see you care about Dr. Mahoney,’’ said Faye.

‘‘Is it that obvious?’’ She was dismayed.

‘‘No, no,’’ said Faye hastily. ‘‘But I’ve known you since you were a little girl and I’ve never seen you look at a man the way you look at Derek when he isn’t looking back.’’

Kristin felt herself flushing. ‘‘So?’’ She didn’t mean to be rude. She’d known Faye long enough to know the older woman wouldn’t take offense.

‘‘So you’ve never listened to him before,’’ Faye said, grinning. ‘‘You aren’t going to start now, are you?’’

Well. She had a point. But still… ‘‘Yes.’’ She made her voice firm. ‘‘I’m not going to live the rest of my life wishing for something I can’t have. If Derek doesn’t want me, I’m going to open myself to other possibilities.’’

‘‘You mean other men?’’ Faye’s eyes were wide.

Kristin nodded.

‘‘Don’t be hasty, honey. You dragged him back from the edge of climbing into that grave with Deb,’’ Faye reminded her. ‘‘He didn’t know what was good for him, and he still doesn’t.’’

‘‘But…’’ She was at a loss as to how to handle this strange conversation. ‘‘How am I supposed to…what can I do when he says—’’

‘‘Feminine wiles.’’ Faye smiled meaningfully. She tapped a brown shopping bag she’d brought in and set on the floor beside her. ‘‘I’ve got a few things in here that my daughter Carlie can’t wear since she had the baby. We’re going to make you look more like a woman.’’

‘‘More like a woman?’’ She fingered the mass of shining curls that fell over her shoulder. ‘‘I don’t think I exactly resemble a guy.’’

‘‘No,’’ Faye agreed. ‘‘You sure don’t. We’re just going to remind Dr. Mahoney a little bit.’’

‘‘How?’’ Kristin asked suspiciously. ‘‘I don’t want to have to wear a bunch of makeup—’’

‘‘Honey, with that face and hair you don’t need makeup!’’ Faye stood up and shook out something in a pretty shade of teal that she’d pulled from the bag. ‘‘But your clothes are another matter.’’

‘‘I like to be comfortable.’’ What did she mean about the face and hair? The face was too pale, even if she did have pretty eyes, and her hair…the color was nice, but the wild curls refused to be tamed. If she cut it short, it would only form a frizzy halo, so she wore it long and usually braided it or pulled it back.

‘‘You like to hide,’’ Faye corrected. ‘‘You won’t be uncomfortable in these things, but you’ll be noticed, that’s for sure.’’

The teal fabric was a slinky knit dress, sleeveless and scoop-necked. There were several little sleeveless tops, a pair of well-worn jeans and a denim skirt that didn’t look big enough to cover her butt.

‘‘The dress is for evening,’’ Faye told her. ‘‘Try this stuff. Once you’ve gotten used to it, we’ll go shopping and get you some things of your own to match the new you.’’

‘‘I can’t afford to go shopping.’’ That was true. Her father had poured all his money into establishing Appalachian and had been heavily in debt when he died. Although at seventeen she technically still had been a minor, it had never occurred to her to default on the loans he had made. The money she’d gotten from Derek for the house and the practice had gone a long way toward erasing what she owed, but she still had a heavy schedule of loan payments to make for another year. She could hardly wait until the loan was paid off. Then she could start saving for a house of her own.

‘‘Secondhand shops and Goodwill,’’ Faye said. ‘‘I’ve gotten some great stuff there.’’ She shoved the bag into Kristin’s hands. ‘‘Now go try on these things.’’

Faye was a force of nature when she was on a mission and Kristin knew better than to argue. If she hurried, she wouldn’t be too late.

Everything fit like a dream. And that was a problem. She was used to wearing loose, baggy clothing. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d worn a skirt and she felt disconcertingly exposed. Even to church, she wore one of two trouser suits she’d had for years.

‘‘I can’t go out in public in this,’’ she said as she came out of the half bath off her small kitchen. ‘‘This’’ was the teal dress. It was deceptively simple on a hanger, but on a body…she was afraid she might just be illegal.

‘‘You look terrific!’’ Faye crowed, walking all around her. ‘‘What’s the matter?’’

‘‘It’s…’’ She motioned vaguely. ‘‘Too revealing.’’

‘‘It’s modest compared to what some girls are wearing these days. Go try the rest.’’

Faye approved each of the other items, but when Kristin attempted to change back into her own clothing, the older woman shook her head. ‘‘Just wear that today.’’

Kristin looked down at herself. She was wearing the jean skirt with a spring-green camisole top. The top had a tiny drawstring bow made of ribbon at the rounded neckline, and ribbon was laced through the straps as well. The only saving grace was that she could still wear her bra. ‘‘Isn’t it a little bare?’’