Married...Again

He’d loved that young woman. Desperately. This person he wanted to get to know. If she would give him a chance. If this man wasn’t who Max suspected he was.

He held his breath waiting for the introduction.

Waiting to hear the word husband.

“I’m Daniel Reynolds. Eleanor’s date for this evening. And this suddenly got very awkward.”

Date. Not husband. Not boyfriend. Date. The relief was palpable.

Max turned his attention to Eleanor, who was slipping out of her shoes.

“I need to run upstairs and freshen up. Max...” It was as if she was having a hard time saying his name, like she could barely push the word out of her mouth. “Max...you need to stay in here. I don’t want to needlessly...upset anyone.”

Except the door swung open, and Max turned his attention to the newest arrival.

“It’s true! Oh, my God. You’re alive. Max!” Allie ran to him and flew into his arms. He caught Eleanor’s sister and swirled her around.

“Allie,” he said into her pretty, soft brown hair. Finally. Someone who was actually happy to see him. Happy that he was alive. He’d adored Allie as if she’d been his real little sister. He’d known the feeling was mutual. Now, here she was in his arms, clinging to him.

Quite the opposite of her sister, Eleanor.

After too long a moment, he finally set her down. “Look at you. You’re all grown up.”

She beamed at him, and he wanted to ingest that smile because it was something else he never thought he would see again.

“This is—I can’t even... How is this possible?”

“Apparently, it’s a very long story,” Eleanor said.

A man walked in behind Allie, then shut the door.

“Mike,” Allie said, clearly getting emotional. “It’s Max. He’s alive.”

“Better than dead, I imagine,” Mike said, obviously trying to keep things light.

Max liked him instantly.

“A lot better than dead,” Max agreed.

“Mike Davies.”

“Max Harper.”

Max shook the man’s hand and assessed him. A little taller than Allie. A little stockier. He had a firm handshake and made direct eye contact. And when he looked at Allie it was as if the only thing that mattered right now was how she was dealing with the situation.

Yes. Max approved of Mike. As her pseudo older brother, he knew that would mean something to Allie.

“I don’t know about anyone else, but I need a drink.” This came from Daniel. The Date. “Can I get anyone anything?”

“Bourbon,” Max said. “If you have it.”

“Of course we have bourbon,” Eleanor said as if he’d suggested something ridiculous.

She was flustered. She was still processing. She wore a stunning navy dress, and suddenly he realized he wanted everyone to leave so that he could be alone with his wife.

“Okay, okay,” she muttered. As if she was a general coming up with a game plan. “Here is what we’re going to do. Daniel, if you would be so kind to bring the bottle of bourbon back here, that would be great. I’m going to clean champagne off my favorite pair of shoes. Allie and Mike, you have to go out there and mingle. If you stay in here, people will wonder what’s happening. I don’t want anyone to see him.”

“Why not?” her sister asked. “He’s alive. It’s not like he has to be hidden.”

“Allie,” Eleanor snapped again. “Please. I get you’re happy to see him. But I think we all need to remember...how things were between Max and me...before...”

“I died. Except I didn’t.”

Eleanor looked at him then, and he remembered that expression. It was her way of telling him to go shut it. He’d missed that look. He’d missed everything about her.

Daniel. Date. Not boyfriend. Not husband. Date.

He could work with that.

“Eleanor...” Allie said as if this was something she was willing to put up a fight over.

“Allie, do what your sister says,” Max said. “This isn’t going to be easy. For any of us. We’ll catch up later. You can tell me if this guy is worthy of you.”

She beamed again, only this time it clearly wasn’t for him. “He is. He so is.”

Mike took Allie’s hand and led her out of the room. Daniel left behind them. Then it was just Eleanor and Max.

“You could have called,” she accused him.

“I didn’t have your number.”

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth, either. He’d looked her up online. He knew she was the founder and CEO of a start-up company called Head to Toe. That had been his original plan. To find the address of her company. To see her there.

But when the engagement announcement popped up under his Allie Gaffney alert, this had seemed like a better opportunity. More personal.

They were also the only family he had left.

Max thought he would be coming home to two devastated parents and a ticked-off almost ex-wife. He hadn’t expected his parents’ deaths. How could he?

He’d been by the graveyard. He’d seen the headstones Eleanor had picked out for them. He knew that she’d made sure they were buried with all the respect and dignity they deserved.

She’d done that for them even though she’d left him and wanted a divorce.

“You could have found a way...to make this easier,” she said. “This...it’s too much.”

“Nor—”

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped. “No one calls me that anymore.”

“This was never going to be easy.”

She nodded, at least acknowledging that.

“I need to...” She paused as if she had lost her train of thought.

“Change your shoes,” he offered. “They look pretty expensive.”

She lifted her chin. “I have a company.”

“I know you do. I told you, I looked you up. It’s how I found out about tonight.”

Warily, as if he was some kind of predator, she backed away from him. “You need to stay in here.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Then she hesitated again. “Are you hungry? We have lots of food.”

“Yes. I’m starving actually. Anything sounds good.”

Again she nodded, then not turning her back on him—he liked to think because she liked seeing him standing in front of her—she left the room.

Max took a seat and blew out a breath. He figured the hardest part was over.

Then, almost instantly, he knew that was wrong.

Getting his wife back. That was going to be the hardest part.

* * *

MAX WAS ALIVE. Max was alive.

Eleanor thought if she said it a thousand times, it might penetrate her reality. But alternately she had to remind herself that, in some corner of her brain, she never really thought he was dead.

He had never felt dead to her.

But that was silly and based on feelings, not on facts. His ship went missing, lost at sea. Max had been declared dead. She’d grieved. Then she’d grieved again when Harry and Sarah died.

She’d stayed close with them despite the situation between Max and her because, at that point, there had been no reason to hold on to grudges. It hadn’t mattered that Max had picked his job over his wife, because Max was dead.

Now he was here. Alive. Saying to her in that very serious way he had that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Because that was so like him.

Showing up two and a half years later at her sister’s engagement party undead wasn’t meant to be dramatic or shocking. It was simply the most expedient way he had of seeing her again. Eleanor knew that.

Max wasn’t drama. He wasn’t show. He’d always been substance.

It’s why she had always believed in their love, which, while it had been happening, had been so overwhelming. Because Max wasn’t the type of man to have passionate affairs. Which meant their passion was something else. Something different. Something built on a foundation.

Until the foundation wasn’t strong enough to handle another research trip. At least not for her.

Eleanor needed five minutes to escape. She needed to change her shoes, brush her teeth to get the taste of stale champagne out of her mouth, and, mostly, she needed to think.

She made her way through the crowd of guests hoping she was doing an adequate job of not looking like her life had just been upended.

She ran upstairs toward her bedroom with her mother trailing after her.

“How is this possible?” she asked quietly.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, didn’t you think to ask him?”

“Mom, I’m a little stunned right now, so could you back off?”

“No, I will not back off. Forget the fact that he’s pulled this rising-from-the-dead stunt. Don’t forget how things ended between you two before all that death business. You were devastated when you came back from Norway. I don’t want to see that happen again. Say the word, and I’ll ask him to leave this house right now. Your cousin Robbie can toss him out if he refuses.”

Robbie was the tallest of the cousins and wouldn’t have been able to move Max an inch if Max didn’t want to be moved.

“No.”

That much Eleanor knew. First, he had to tell her what happened. She, at least, deserved that. Then...there was so much more to work out.

His parents’ estate, which she’d held in a trust for the past year because she was not exactly sure what to do with it, was one thing. Not to mention the tiny little detail that he’d never actually signed the divorce papers. So, now that he was legally alive, she was still legally married to him.

“Please tell me you are not actually happy to see him again. That man broke your heart, if you recall.”

No, he hadn’t broken it. He’d shattered it. Stomped on it. Then threw it overboard for chum. Then he went and ruined all of that by dying so that, instead of hating him, she’d missed him with every ounce of her being.

“No. I mean, yes, I have to be happy he’s not dead. But it’s not...I mean, of course I’m over him.”

They reached the top of the stairs, and her mother pulled on her arm. “Eleanor Jane Gaffney, look at me and tell me you will ever be over Max Harper.”

“It’s Eleanor Jane Gaffney Harper, Mom. Remember?”

“Actually sometimes it’s easy to forget because I wasn’t invited to the wedding, now, was I?”

It was almost comical. Here Marilyn was threatening to throw Max out of the house by force if necessary so that he couldn’t emotionally hurt her daughter any further, but she was still making digs about how they’d chosen to get married in the first place. “Really, Mom? We’re going to fight about the elopement tonight of all nights?”

Her mother let out a sigh. “No. We’re not. I just need to make sure you can...handle being around him again. Daniel seems like a very nice man. I would hate to see you throw away any potential you have with him over Max Harper.”

“Are you angry with Max because we chose to elope? Or because he left me? Or because he died, but now is actually alive?”

Marilyn seemed to consider that. “All of the above.”

“Right.”

“I told you it was too soon,” Marilyn hissed. Reminding her daughter for the millionth time that she had advised Eleanor against getting married so quickly.

“Which is why we eloped,” Eleanor said tightly. The argument, for all its repetition, never changed.

“Because you’re impossibly stubborn.”

Eleanor wanted to say she got that from her mother, but thought better of it. It would only lead down the same path this conversation always took them inevitably. Which was that Marilyn had been right and Eleanor had been wrong. Something her mother had reinforced when Eleanor had come back from Norway.

Because there was nothing a person wanted more while crying over a broken heart than to hear her mother’s version of I told you so.

“I need to get down there and talk to him. But I need a few minutes to compose myself first. Please give me a little space, Mom.”

“Just don’t let yourself get sucked in again. The last time it nearly killed you when it ended. Remember who he is. I told you then and I will tell you now, that man doesn’t know how to stay in one place forever. So he may be alive and he may be back for now. But it’s only temporary. Sure enough, there will be another assignment and another ship.”

Eleanor hated to admit it, but her mother had a point. Max had nearly been her downfall. The thing she had almost not recovered from.

Until she did. Until she’d pulled herself out of the ashes of her failed marriage and built herself a company.

“Mom, I’m not going to get sucked in by Max. I remember how it ended better than anyone. Really. I’m fine. But we need to sort out the technicalities. Legally we’re still married.”

“Fine. I need to get back to my guests. You’re sure you can handle this?”

“I’ve got it.”

At least she hoped she had it. She was no longer a lovesick, twenty-six-year-old woman who was desperate to have her husband not leave her again.

Instead, she was a strong, independent woman who owned a successful business. A woman who was dating another man. A woman who had been hurt, but who had moved on with her life.

No. All she needed from Max Harper was a divorce.

First, though, she needed to feed him.

Chapter Four

MAX TURNED AT the sound of the knock. Instead of Eleanor, it was Daniel with the bottle of bourbon he’d managed to acquire. He held up the bottle, and Max nodded.

The man poured them each a few fingers, then handed Max his glass. Max took a deep sniff, letting it seep through his senses. Yet another thing he was getting to re-experience. Booze.

He took a sip and savored the heat of it melting down his throat.

“So you’re Eleanor’s...”

“Husband. Yes, I thought we established that. And you are her...date. How did you two meet?”

“I’m an investment banker. I look for opportunities with thriving young companies to take them to the next level. Eleanor has one of those companies. I pursued it...then I pursued her.”

“Yes. I’m aware of the company. Head to Toe. Fitting. She always did all my shopping. Said I had no sense for fashion, which I suppose I don’t.”

“She’s got excellent taste. She picked this tie out for me. Do you like it?”

Max thought about that. It was a nice tie. “No.”

Daniel tilted his head back and laughed. “I see. This isn’t going to be a situation where you wish us all the best in our burgeoning relationship and fade out of the picture.”

“I’ve been out of the picture for more than two years. Fading away is the last thing I want.” He sure as hell didn’t want his wife finding happiness with someone else. Not when he planned to fight for her.

“Look, man, you can’t possibly be serious. You’ve been dead for over two years, gone for longer than that. Eleanor doesn’t talk about you much, but she told me the basics. You were married for three years, gone for most of that time, on the verge of a divorce when your ship went missing. Any feelings you might have had, any she might have had, that’s all in the past.”

“You’ve known me for all of a minute and offered me a drink, but you think you can tell me how I feel about my wife?”

“Your ex-wife,” Daniel said pointedly.

“Technically, that’s not true.” Eleanor was back and shutting the door behind her. She had a plate piled high with food in her hands. She looked pale, but more in control of herself than she had been earlier.

Yes, she’d changed in two plus years. She’d grown into herself. And as much as he’d loved the woman she’d been when he married her, that was how much he wanted to know this version of her, as well.

“Daniel, I’m sorry. I know this is incredibly rude of me...”

“I don’t know that there is etiquette regarding dealing with a husband back from the dead.”

Max gave the guy some credit. He was smooth. Freshly shaven, expensive suit. He looked and acted like money. No doubt a fish out of water in Hartsville, Nebraska. Still, he’d come to the sticks for Eleanor, which showed she meant something to him.

Daniel was a man in pursuit of Max’s wife.

It was something Max simply could not stand for.

“I need some time alone with Max. I don’t want you to feel like I’m ignoring you...”

“But of course you need to ignore me right now. You and Max obviously have things to work out. I understand completely. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll head back to Denver tonight rather than stay at the B and B.”

“So late?”

“It’s only after nine, and with no traffic I should be home in three hours.”

She nodded. “You’ll text me to let me know you arrived home safely.”

Daniel flashed a smile in Max’s direction. “See how she cares about me?”

Max prevented himself from tackling the asshole, deciding violence wouldn’t get him anywhere. Certainly not with Eleanor.

“I do,” Max answered. “But wouldn’t anyone, given they were asking you to leave in the first place?”

Another shut-it look from Nor. Max wanted to tilt his head back and shout to the world. For years he’d been lost, for weeks he’d been devastated by the knowledge of his parents’ death. But now, finally, things were starting to make sense. Eleanor was telling him to shut his mouth with the power of a look.

He was here. With Nor. And regardless of Daniel and whatever it was they had between them, Max was still legally her husband. His plan was to hold on to that, if nothing else, with both hands.

Daniel flashed another smile, then very deliberately kissed Eleanor on the cheek. “Good night, my dear. You’ll pass on my regrets to your mother and tell her I hope to see her at the wedding?”

“Of course.”

Douchebag, Max thought. But he supposed he had to feel some sympathy for the guy. If the situation were reversed, he would also fight like hell to keep a woman like Eleanor.

Daniel left, and Max waited until the door was closed.

“He’ll see her at the wedding? Didn’t they just get engaged? And the wedding’s not for a while? Pretty ballsy move if you ask me.”

“Yes, well...I don’t want to talk about Daniel.”

“That’s unfortunate because I do want to talk about him. He says you two have a burgeoning relationship. Can you quantify what that means?”

Eleanor opened her mouth, then snapped it closed. “I don’t think it’s any of your business.”

“None of my business? My wife is dating someone and that’s none of my business?”

“Oh, please, Max. Let’s not pretend here. I’m glad you are alive... I’m, well, the truth is, in a way I feel sort of redeemed because I never truly believed you were dead. I thought I would feel differently if you were dead...and I didn’t...but then I had to accept it. So I did. But just because you are back doesn’t mean anything has changed between us.”

“You’re right about that,” he said.

She nodded. “Good. It’s important that we are on the same page here.”

“I agree. Can I eat?” He pointed to the plate of food.

“Sure. Sorry. I know you said you were hungry. You’ve obviously lost weight.”

He smiled at that. “I’ve been back in the States for a few weeks, Nor. It’s not like I haven’t eaten since being rescued.”

“I asked you not to call me that.”

Max sat on the sofa. He set his drink down and picked up the plate of food. Steak tenderloin, mashed potatoes, a corn cake—Marilyn’s special recipe. And some broccoli, which Nor knew he wouldn’t eat, but she put it on his plate because she thought it was important he eat more vegetables.

“Looks good. All my favorites. You remembered.”

“Don’t,” she warned him. “Don’t try to read anything into that. It’s food.”

Max held up his hands as if in surrender, then reached for the corn cake and took a bite. Savoring the flavors in this mouth.

“God, that’s good. You can’t know what it’s like to eat nothing but fish for years.”

Cautiously, like she was in the room with a caged beast, she sat in the chair across from him.

“I guess it’s time you told me your long story.”

* * *

ELEANOR ALMOST DIDN’T want to hear his story. It seemed like it would make her too invested in him again. It would be better to simply to tell him to leave now. They could handle everything—the divorce, his parents’ affairs—all by mail, then that would be the end of their story.

Nothing so dramatic as a lost ship, a story of survival and returning from the dead.

But she supposed she had to know.

He shrugged after eating the last of her mother’s famous corn cake, literally licking the crumbs off his fingers.

“We ran into a storm. Not sure why the captain didn’t have more notice. But it was a bad one. Waves coming over the bow, we just took on too much water. The ship was going down. We took to the life rafts with not much hope. I broke my leg in the effort. The pain was... I don’t like to think about it. We drifted for days. The two crewmen with me died. I thought I was going to, as well. I don’t know if I passed out or slept. The next thing I knew, I was on a fishing boat and someone was giving me water. We landed on a small island off the coast of Iceland. Completely isolated from any kind of civilization. The best I can equate it to would be like an Amish community here in the States.

“A small village, not more than a few hundred people. Living off the land. Good people, but they spoke a Nordic language I didn’t understand. They had absolutely no English. My femur was broken. Their version of a doctor set it, but I couldn’t put any pressure on it for months. Then I was sick with pneumonia. I didn’t think I was going to survive that either without antibiotics. I pulled through it eventually with their natural treatments. It was months before I could walk, months after that to get my strength back. Then it was just a matter of waiting for a commercial fishing boat to pass by, one with the ability to communicate to the people of the village and me to explain I needed to get on it somehow. There were months I thought I would be stuck there for the rest of my life. I fished with them. I ate with them. Then, finally, a commercial fishing boat appeared. I was able to talk to the captain, convince him I needed to leave. The crew sailed me out to the ship, and eventually I made my way to Iceland.”

That was also typical Max, she thought. She’d counted no less than three near-death experiences, but he brushed over all of that like they were just facts in some other person’s story. As if none of it touched him.

“And when you got back to Iceland?”

“It was difficult. I wasn’t...used to people. It took me time to assimilate again. Eventually, I made my way to the U.S. consulate. Told them who I was and what happened. They reached out to the university to tell them I was alive. I kept trying to call my parents... It wasn’t until I got to the States that I learned what happened. Someone from the university met me at the airport. Told me about the accident. Told me what you had done for them. Now here I am.”

“Here you are,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. For your loss of them. They were such good people. You should know that after you...after you were declared dead I spent time with them. The three of us were together. We all sort of overlooked the fact that I had been in the process of divorcing you.”

“I didn’t think you would do it,” he said quietly. “I never thought you would really leave me.”

“I know.”

Max leaned forward, his hands loosely linked together. “I’m sorry I left, Nor. God I’m so sorry.”

“Not sorry enough that you didn’t turn around and get back on another ship.”

She watched him wince. As if she’d slapped him. She hadn’t meant to cause him pain. Or had she? When the four months passed, she’d been determined to resist every effort he would make to win her back. Positive in the knowledge that he would have taken the first plane he could to be by her side.

That he hadn’t even bothered to try winning her back had been crushing in its own way.

“I had a plan,” he said roughly.

“You always had a plan, Max. It just didn’t include me.”

“You’re wrong.”

Eleanor sighed. “It really doesn’t matter. It’s all in the past now. What’s important is what we do moving forward.”