Her Unexpected Family

“They’re beautiful kids.”

They were, and because he was their only parent, he needed to have a plan, always. “Thank you. I’m real lucky to have them.”

She flashed him a look he couldn’t read, then nodded. “Kids are a blessing, for sure. Well.” She slipped into her car. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

He didn’t want to wait until tomorrow, but he wasn’t a rash man. He didn’t act on impulse. He couldn’t afford to, not now when two small children meant so much. He wasn’t about to make foolish mistakes to disrupt their lives. He stepped back, lifted his hand and nodded. “See you then.”

* * *

If ever a man needed some serious roadside repair, it was Grant McCarthy. Oh, she saw the good side of the guy. His devotion to his children, his strong work ethic, the sacrificial nature and his strong, rugged good looks. A man who saw what needed to be done and simply did it. Those were all wonderful qualities.

But Emily had learned one thing during her years of pageants and contests. Judging was fine on stage, but in everyday life, judgmental people weren’t her style and the minute Grant McCarthy started talking about his father, red flags popped up.

Judge not, that ye be not judged.

She’d lived both sides of that wise verse. She was older now and wiser than the college-age contestant she’d been when Chris Barrister won her heart six years ago.

He’d tossed her aside when he grew tired of her, and she’d learned to be more cautious as a result. No one would ever get to treat her or her heart casually ever again.

But something about Grant spoke to her.

Was it because they’d both suffered through rough marriages? His wife dumped him. Her husband gave her the boot, albeit with a generous settlement, but the buyout didn’t heal the ache of knowing she wasn’t enough. No matter how hard she worked, how sweet or funny or kind she was, how good she looked, she hadn’t been enough to keep him happy for more than two years of marriage. Being let go from his father’s company simply underscored rampant opinion that she’d gotten the job through nothing more than looking good and being married to the boss’s son.

That galled her because she’d done a great job for Barrister’s, Inc., and the women’s department sales figures had increased dramatically while she sat in the head buyer’s chair. She’d garnered recognition and job interest from other department store chains when Noel Barrister let her go, but then Dad got sick and she knew what she needed to do.

So here she was, in Grace Haven, following in Kimberly’s shadow once again.

She pulled into the driveway a few minutes later, drove past the carriage house garage, where her future brother-in-law and his daughter, Amy, lived, and walked into her parents’ house, restless.

“How’d it go?” Kimberly looked up from her laptop. “Did he pick a venue tonight or are you still on for tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night,” Emily said. She flopped down into her father’s favorite recliner, kicked off her shoes and rubbed her sore, aching feet. “Remind me to get rid of those shoes, no matter how nice they look with this dress.”

“That dress is a knockout,” Rory said as she came in from the kitchen. She took one look at Emily, then sank onto the carpet and started rubbing her sister’s feet. “What’s wrong? Did tonight go badly?”

“No. It was fine. I’m just—” Emily thought, came up with nothing and shrugged. “Out of sorts. Restless. Wondering about everything, the meaning of life, why things happen like they do and why women feel the need to wear stupid shoes.”

“You like him,” Kimberly noted from her chair.

It was beyond annoying to have an older sister who prided herself on being right, especially when it was true too much of the time. “At this moment I don’t like anyone.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Kimberly jotted something into the laptop, and said, “Invite him to my wedding.”

“Not gonna happen.” She looked down at Rory, still massaging the ache out of her left foot. “Thank you.”

A big woof sounded from outside.

Mags had been sound asleep, curled in a tiny ball on the carpet, but when Drew Slade’s German shepherd barked, she sprang up, raced to the door and stood on her tiny back legs, pawing.

“Come on, Mags.” Drew came through the door, let the little dog out then slid the door shut. “Cold and getting colder. They said snow in the mountains.”

“And so it begins.” Emily lolled her head back and waved to him. “Hey, Drew.”

He smiled at her, winked and walked across the floor to Kimberly. “You can tell it’s a sure thing when your future wife doesn’t even bother to get out of her chair to greet you with a kiss.”

Kimberly hit one last button, set the computer aside and gave him the kiss he sought.

Emily pouted inside.

She had thought she’d had that once. What was it that made someone fickle? To want something else, someone else? Was it her lack or his selfishness? Or both? Or had she fallen for the glitz of the whole thing? There were many questions and not enough answers.

“Hey.” Rory squeezed her foot as Drew and Kimberly moved into the kitchen to find food and discuss their upcoming wedding. And probably kiss more. “Don’t look back. Gaze forward. Remember that awesome Einstein quote?”

She made a face and Rory laughed. “There are only two ways to live. One is as if nothing is a miracle. The other is as if everything is.”

“Perspective.”

“Yup.” Rory switched feet. “With Dad’s problems, I have to push myself to remember we’ve had him all our lives. How blessed we were to have both parents, a home, heat, clothing.”

“You’re so much better than I am,” Emily remarked. “Take my feet, for example. If you’d come in with sore feet, I’d have said ‘Wow, go soak in a tub. That’ll help.’”

Rory smiled up at her. “So does this.”

“You make things personal. Maybe that’s part of my problem. Maybe I don’t make things personal.”

Rory sighed and gave her foot a smack.

“Hey!”

“You don’t have a problem. You’re a wonderful person. The worst thing you did was fall in love with the wrong person because he pretended he was the right person.”

“You’re letting me off too easy,” Emily replied and when Rory started to argue, she held up a hand. “I was kind of young and shallow, Rory. I can own it now. When Christopher started courting me I was at the top of my game. I’d been Miss New York, I aced college, I was ready to move on to the next perfect step. Marrying a rich guy, falling into an amazing job as a department store buyer and living in a mansion made me feel like a princess. I liked it. So I can’t lay all the blame at his feet.”

“Lots of girls want to be princesses,” Rory told her.

“But not you. Never you. Why?”

Rory shrugged. “Not my thing. I’m not the gilded type, I guess. But in spite of why you came home last year, I’m glad you did. Handling Dad’s illness is a whole lot easier for me when we’re all in this together.” She stood up and kissed Emily’s cheek. “I’m subbing tomorrow in a first grade classroom, so I’m heading up to bed. Good night, Em.”

“Good night.”

The murmur of voices in the kitchen told her Drew and Kimberly were deep in discussion. She was just about to go to bed herself when her phone buzzed. She pulled up a text from Grant and sighed. He’d sent her a picture of Timmy and Dolly, sleeping, tangled in covers, sharing a bed. And under it Grant had typed, Unusual moment of peace, now recorded for posterity.

Something sweet and gentle curled inside her. She sent back a single-word reply. Precious.

She went to bed, smiling, the image of those two sweet children blending with Einstein’s words.

Chapter Three

“Well, don’t you look handsome,” Aunt Tillie remarked the next evening. “Percy, don’t Grant look handsome tonight?”

Uncle Percy grunted, unimpressed, but when Timmy saw him dressed in a turtleneck and a sport coat, he frowned. “I go bye-bye, too.”

“Not this time, little man. Daddy’s got to go see more people about Auntie’s wedding.”

His words didn’t impress the toddler. “I go bye-bye wif Daddy.”

Grant squatted down, hugged the toddler and shook his head. “No can do, Daddy’s got some things he has to do. Aunt Tillie and Uncle Percy are with you tonight.”

“I go!” Dolly crawled across the dining area, grabbed a kitchen chair leg, hauled herself up and stomped a foot. “I go!”

“Not you, either, button. And on that note...” He gave Dolly a kiss, kissed Timmy again and left his aunt with two squalling children. “Sorry.”

She waved him off, calm as ever. “This is all for your benefit, Grant. They’ll be fine in two minutes. You’ll feel guilty all night while they play and laugh and giggle and eat mac and cheese. Go, get this done, and Christa will be thrilled.”

He walked to the garage, torn. He’d gotten a lecture today from Dolly’s occupational therapist, reminding him that she needed to work on skills daily, but that was easier said than done. Dolly had become an expert at refusing to do the simplest tasks, which meant her motor skills were dragging even further behind.

Was Aunt Tillie right? Were they really fine in a couple of minutes while he wore a mantle of guilt all evening? He drove to the lodge, saw Emily’s SUV then felt guilty for looking forward to the evening. He got out, crossed the couple of spaces to her car and opened the door for her.

“Thank you!” Her bright smile warmed him, and that only made the guilt mount higher. “How was your day?”

His day had been fine until fifteen minutes ago, and he didn’t want to lay all that at her door, so he shrugged. “It was okay. Yours?”

She studied him, then shook her head. “You’re worried about something. If it has to do with the wedding, spill it now.”

“It’s not about the wedding.” And then, ten seconds after deciding not to lay it at her door, he recounted the kids’ antics. She nodded, frowned in sympathy then laughed out loud.

He tucked his neck deeper in his coat, aggrieved. “It wasn’t one bit funny when two little kids were crying because they miss their daddy and I’m too busy to be with them.”

“It is kind of funny,” she insisted. “Because Tillie is right. I told you I worked in a children’s home during college, and this is textbook toddler attachment stuff. We even started messaging pics to the parents five minutes later to prove our point. They’re fine, they’re just experts at pushing the guilt button. They don’t like the moment of separation, and boy, do they let you know it. I bet if Aunt Tillie was to send you a picture right now, it would be of two happy, healthy, goofy kids playing or eating and having the time of their lives.”

“Which is exactly what they say at day care, too.” He worked his jaw, then shrugged one shoulder. “I’m a pushover when it comes to them.”

She moved forward to the lodge door, let him open it and smiled over her shoulder. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

He let the door swing shut behind them and followed her to the hostess station.

He liked the setting instantly. One part of the lodge was a restaurant, known for great food and its cozy, rustic atmosphere. Cozy and rustic worked for him, and he was pretty sure it would work for two air force officers tying the knot.

When the owner/manager sat down with them and covered everything in detail, Grant was sold, unless the food tasting went bad.

It didn’t.

Instead of the tiny bites he’d been offered last night, the lodge owner served them a full meal at a linen-draped table complete with a centerpiece and a candle, alongside a fireplace.

It was like a date, only it wasn’t, he reminded himself.

But the feeling persisted as they laughed and talked their way through dinner. “This is amazing,” he told her.

“The Celtic stew, the homemade bread or the beef?”

“All of it, plus the setting, the service and the prices are so reasonable. And I like the idea of family-style dining.”

“Dishes at the table, everybody sharing. I like that, too. It’s Sunday-dinner-friendly and most folks enjoy that.”

“The phrase pass the peas becomes a conversation starter.”

“Exactly.” She smiled at him, made a note in her tablet and sipped her water.

“I bet Timmy and Dolly would love the big animals on the walls.” She pointed over his shoulder to the authentic-looking deer, moose and bear.

He winced. “They’re two. Taking them out to eat usually turns into a food fight. Timmy’s getting a little better, but Dolly’s stubbornness gets in the way, so we rarely go anyplace.” He waited, and when she said nothing, he nodded an acknowledgment. “Of course, it’s pretty clear she’s got me somewhat snowed.”

“Somewhat,” Emily agreed, but she said it gently, as if she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Grant appreciated that. Between Tillie, the occupational therapist and day care, everyone had something to say these days. That meant they were probably correct, but he appreciated Emily’s gentler approach.

“So tonight, we need to have coffee or something,” she told him outside. “We can go to the diner, but it’s late and they’ll be closing. Or we can sit down at your place or mine. Rory stopped by Gabriella’s bakery today.”

“If we go to my place and wake the kids, we’ll get nothing done, so if you don’t mind, your place sounds good. And the baked goods seal the deal.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

* * *

Emily parked her car behind Kimberly’s and waited until Grant pulled in alongside her. She climbed out and headed to the walk, waiting. He took longer than she expected, and when a blast of eastbound wind tunneled in from the west, she pulled her coat tighter. He glanced her way, looking surprised.

Realization flashed in his eyes. He popped the door open and pocketed his phone, looking contrite. “Sorry. I wanted to give Tillie an idea of my time frame, but you didn’t have to wait. It’s cold out here.”

She started for the door. “I didn’t want you to feel awkward coming in.”

“Do you make people feel awkward?”

She turned to face him and caught his smile beneath the lamps lighting the stoned path. “I try not to. Guess my success rate could use an upgrade.”

“My batting average isn’t all it could be, either,” he told her, and the way he said it sounded like he understood regret.

“We usually have meetings in the office.” She indicated The Square up the road. “But there’s no sense going over there, turning on all the lights when there are perfectly delicious cookies and brownies here, courtesy of my sister Rory.” She opened the door as she mentioned Rory’s name, and her sister waved from the far side of the living room.

“Grant?”

Kimberly came through from the kitchen. So did Drew. “I’m Kimberly. I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you yet, but Dad says a lot of good stuff about you.”

“When the highway department can keep the old police chief and the new police chief’s office happy, then everybody’s happy,” Grant told her. He nodded toward Drew, the newly appointed chief of police. “This guy’s got some pretty big shoes to fill, because your father did one solid job as chief. But so far, so good.” He winked at Drew as he shook Kimberly’s hand.

“Feeling’s mutual.” Drew clapped him on the back. “You did a great job facilitating that meeting of the town leaders the other day. I appreciated it.”

“I forgot that you two will actually have to work together on some things now.” Emily made a face. “My bad.”

“Grant, I know this is short notice, but if you can sneak away for a few hours next week, come to our wedding.” Drew took a seat at the big round oak table and motioned Grant to sit down. “We’ve got plenty of room and food. We’d love to have you there.”

Grant grimaced. “I’d like to, but I’m walking around with way too much guilt for leaving Tim and Dolly as much as I do already. It seems like I’m not home nearly as much as I’d like to be.”

“Bring them along,” Kimberly said. Grant gave her a blank stare.

“You didn’t just say that. Did you?”

“I did, and I meant it. It’s not a huge affair. We actually like kids, and I’d rather have you come and bring the kids than not come,” Kimberly told him. “Call it good town relations or whatever, but I think the kids will have fun, there will be all kinds of people there to spoil them and how can that be a bad thing?”

It wasn’t a bad thing, but Grant’s hesitation indicated he might not agree.

“I know they’re little,” Emily offered. “And they probably get overwhelmed easily, but if you’d like to bring them, there’s a whole crew of Gallaghers who will be happy to help with them.”

“Dolly actually has a bunch of cute dresses she’s never worn because we don’t do fancy all that often,” he admitted.

“Nothing like a wedding to put on the dog,” Drew drawled, as if getting dressed up for anything—even his own wedding—was cruel and unusual punishment.

“Think about it.” Kimberly reached out a hand to Drew and tugged. “I expect you and Emily have things to talk about, so I’m going to drag my fiancé out to the front room and we’re going to give the to-do list one last look.”

“It’s beyond crazy how even a small family wedding can need this much attention.” Rory tipped her glasses down and peered up at Kimberly from her spot across the room. “Although in this case it might be because we have experts running their own show.”

“Hush.” Kimberly leaned down and gazed hard into Rory’s laughing eyes. “You don’t want to bite the hand that feeds you. And this is a somewhat important day in my life, brat.”

“Good point.”

Rory grinned and ducked back to her laptop, while Emily pulled her chair a little closer to Grant’s and brought up the online contracts. “I know you need to get home, so if we can go over the major points here, I’ll print things up and we’re good to go. Unless you’d rather have me email it to you so you can examine the details back at your place.”

“Here’s good. Ditches and roads are my forte, not party planning. Which is why I came to the best.”

When he said it, he looked straight at Emily, as if assured she could do the job without her mother or big sister looking over her shoulder. His vote of confidence felt good, if a bit surprising after his initial reaction to her. “I’ll contact Christa about the other things. Dress, attendants, flowers. Whatever else she has in mind, I’ll be happy to run interference for her.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Not in the least. That’s my favorite part of the process.” She tapped a few keys as she spoke, filled in a few more spots and hit Print. “I’m happy to do it. Let’s not forget that Kate & Company managed to put together a star-studded wedding for the president’s daughter, while her whole family was stomping the campaign trail two months ago. Ninety percent of that was in absentia.”

“And it was amazing,” Drew called from the other room. “Not that I’m listening to you guys or anything.”

Drew’s words seemed to bolster Grant. “If you could talk to Christa, and make everything flow for her, I don’t think there’s enough money in the world to show my thanks. She asked me to stand with her, so that’s a little weird already.”

“As her witness? What a perfectly lovely thing to do, brother and sister, standing before God together.”

He made a face. “I’d have been okay with just walking the bride down the aisle and maintaining a low profile for the remainder of the day.”

“That makes Christa’s gesture sweeter.” She handed him the hard-copy contract. “I’ve got Christa’s email now. Maybe she and I can arrange a Skype session at the bridal salon. And with so many possibilities online, we can come up with something absolutely beautiful for her.”

Grant withdrew his phone and pulled up a picture of a happy couple with snow-capped mountains in the background. “This was taken two years ago when they were at a ski lodge in Colorado. She’s built like you,” he told Emily. “But taller. She usually likes things kind of simple, but that’s everyday stuff.” He frowned at the picture. “When it comes to a wedding gown, who knows?”

“It’s always the ones you least expect who choose a princess gown,” Rory muttered as she closed her laptop and stood. “And the princesses pick a mermaid dress and can’t climb into the overpriced limo without help.”

“Yeah, like that,” Grant agreed. He shifted to face Emily directly again. “You don’t mind doing that part, too?”

“I’ll love it. I’ll get hold of Christa as soon as I can. We’ll set something up and I’ll keep you in the loop.”

Rory had crossed to the kitchen. She came back and set a tray of pastries in front of Grant. “Gabby sent these as a thank-you for the business we’ve been bringing her, and Kimberly made it abundantly clear that they need to disappear,” she instructed. “Something about fitting into that wedding gown next week.”

“Let’s send a few home with him,” Emily suggested. “Leave a couple for Amy, but if we send them with Grant, the twins will be beside themselves, and Tillie and Percy will love us forever.”

“Percy’s got a sweet tooth, for certain, but—”

Emily stepped closer, reaching one hand up, over his mouth. She slid her gaze toward the living room, then raised one brow. “Taking them will be an act of kindness, Grant. There’s a bride in the next room,” she whispered. “Save her from herself, and just take the pastries. Okay?”

His eyes met hers, and this time they didn’t stray. They lingered and twinkled as if he liked looking into her eyes. “Okay.”

Her heart fluttered. She moved her hand away from his face, but couldn’t draw her eyes from his.

“I’ll just put these on a double paper plate, Grant.” Rory’s movement broke the moment, and maybe Emily was wrong. Maybe it wasn’t even a moment.

But when she walked Grant to the door, he turned and held her gaze once more. Then he reached out and took her hand while raising the plate of treats. “The family will love these. Thank you.”

He squeezed her hand lightly and smiled.

Gone was the defensiveness she’d seen last week. In its place was an easy grin. She smiled back, and when he released her hand, her fingers felt downright cold and lonely as she closed the door.

She couldn’t get involved, she knew that, but for that brief moment, getting involved felt like an absolutely wonderful thing to do.

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