The Marriage Portrait

“I need to find a way to convince my mother that she doesn’t need to find me a wife,” said Michael.

“Is that your business proposition? You want us to act as if we enjoy each other’s company when we’re with your mother?” asked Cassie, her eyes never leaving his.

“Actually I think we need to pretend it’s a little more than being friendly.”

Cassie’s heart started to pound faster. Her face felt flushed. “Are you saying you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend?”

“No, I want you to pretend to be my wife.”

Dear Reader,

November is an exciting month here at Harlequin American Romance. You’ll notice we have a brand-new look—but, of course, you can still count on Harlequin American Romance to bring you four terrific love stories sure to warm your heart.

Back by popular demand, Harlequin American Romance revisits the beloved town of Tyler, Wisconsin, in the RETURN TO TYLER series. Scandals, secrets and romances abound in this small town with fabulous stories written by some of your favorite authors. The always wonderful Jule McBride inaugurates this special four-book series with Secret Baby Spencer.

Bestselling author Muriel Jensen reprises her heartwarming WHO’S THE DADDY? series with Father Fever. Next, a former wallflower finally gets the attention of her high school crush when he returns to town and her friends give her a makeover and some special advice in Catching His Eye, the premiere of Jo Leigh’s THE GIRLFRIENDS’ GUIDE TO…continuing series. Finally, Harlequin American Romance’s theme promotion, HAPPILY WEDDED AFTER, which focuses on marriages of convenience, continues with Pamela Bauer’s The Marriage Portrait.

Enjoy them all—and don’t forget to come back again next month when another installment in the RETURN TO TYLER series from Judy Christenberry is waiting for you.

Wishing you happy reading,

Melissa Jeglinski

Associate Senior Editor

Harlequin American Romance

The Marriage Portrait

Pamela Bauer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For a woman who has been an inspiration to me my entire life, my sister Carol Ann.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Pamela Bauer was born and raised in Minnesota where you need a sense of humor if you’re going to survive winter. That’s why she writes romantic comedies set in the Midwest with heroes who know how to warm a woman’s heart…and toes. She has received awards from Affaire de Coeur and Romantic Times Magazine and her books have appeared on the Waldenbooks romance bestseller list. She currently makes her home in Minnesota where she lives with her husband who is her real-life hero, her two adult children and a bichon-poo who thinks he’s human. When she’s not writing, she enjoys watching foreign films, going to the theater and fishing.

Books by Pamela Bauer

HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE

688—THE PICK-UP MAN

718—MAIL ORDER COWBOY

803—SAVING CHRISTMAS

814—CORPORATE COWBOY

852—THE MARRIAGE PORTRAIT

Dear Reader,

I love happy endings. Call me an incurable romantic, but when two people fall in love, I want them to have a “happily ever after.” The cynics of this world may say there is no such thing, but I know differently. My parents recently celebrated their sixtieth wedding anniversary. Talk about inspiration!

We all know the road to “happily ever after” can be a bumpy one, even for two people in love. Or as my friend Sandy would say, “Marriage is a journey, not a cruise.”

It certainly has been a wonderful journey for my husband and me. We’ve shared joys and sorrows, successes and failures, dreams and disappointments. We started out as two love-struck teenagers, but along the way we became not only lovers, but the best of friends.

In The Marriage Portrait, Mac and Cassie’s journey doesn’t start in the traditional way. They marry not for love, but for convenience. But like us, they get more than they bargained for. I hope you will enjoy their story as they travel their road to “happily ever after.”

Warmly,

P.S. I love hearing from readers. You can write to me c/o MFW, PO Box 24107, Minneapolis, MN 55424.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Epilogue

Prologue

“Ladies, it’s time for new business,” Louella Gibbons, the chairwoman of the Minnetonka Mums, declared with a clap of her gavel. The garden club, composed entirely of senior citizens, had gathered for their monthly meeting. All talk of hybrids and pollination ceased as they looked to their leader.

“I believe Tessie has a request.”

All eyes turned in the direction of the white-haired woman who pushed her chair back and stood—all five feet two inches of her. With a somber expression on her face, she said, “I’ve decided to take you up on your offer to help with Michael.”

Murmurs of approval spread around the table, but they were quickly silenced as Louella said, “Order, ladies.”

Tessie continued. “I’ve given him plenty of time to do his thing, but as you know, he’s going to be thirty-five next month. I’m afraid if I don’t do something, it’ll be too late. I’m not getting any younger, either.”

“No, none of us are,” Agnes Dienhardt contributed.

“And we all know what’s happening,” Tessie continued.

“The pool’s getting shallower with every year that passes,” Francine Collona answered with an ominous shake of her head.

“You don’t want him to wait so long that it’s empty,” another Mum piped in.

“He definitely needs a little push in the right direction,” Agnes added.

“You all know I’m not the kind of mother to interfere, but…” Tessie trailed off.

“He’s leaving you no choice,” someone finished for her.

“Exactly,” Tessie stated with a knowing nod. “And I have good intentions. I only want him to be happy.”

“Of course. We all do. We love him, too,” Louella said on behalf of the group.

“Then you’ll do it?” Tessie asked, giving the group an encompassing glance.

“Of course, we’ll do it, but someone will have to make a motion,” Louella answered.

Betty Jean Greer raised her hand and said, “I move that the next project we undertake be the courtship of Dr. Mac.”

“I second,” another voice said.

“All in favor?” Louella asked.

A chorus of ayes could be heard.

“Anyone opposed?”

Silence.

Louella then decreed, “Passed. The Minnetonka Mums have agreed that they will do whatever they can to assist Tessie in finding Dr. Mac a wife.”

Tessie smiled broadly at the group of women gathered. “Thank you so much. You are the dearest friends a woman could have.”

“That’s what Mums are for,” Agnes reminded her with a pat on Tessie’s hand. “Besides, we’ve all been itching for you to give us the go-ahead. We have lots of ideas.”

Tessie smiled slyly. “That’s just what I wanted to hear. Should we get down to business, ladies?”

Chapter One

“Good morning, Dr. Mac. And happy birthday.” The young woman sitting at the reception desk in the clinic handed him a small stack of pink slips. “Your messages.”

“Thank you, Jenny. For both the birthday wish and these,” he said, waving the pink slips in the air.

“I put up a sign. I hope you don’t mind,” she said, nodding toward the waiting area where a computer-generated banner hung on the wall. It read, “Bark for Dr. Mac’s birthday.”

Dr. Michael McFerrin wished the staff didn’t see birthdays as an occasion to celebrate. If it were up to him, he’d treat his as if it were just another day of the week. Get up, go to work and come home. No fuss. No big deal.

Unfortunately, Jenny—and he guessed the other employees at the clinic—thought his birthday merited more than a casual “oh, by the way, happy birthday” wish in passing. He discovered this was true when he stepped into his office and saw the cake. Suddenly, behind him was the entire office staff.

“That looks like an awful lot of fire for one cake,” he quipped as the tech, Tabitha, began lighting the candles.

“Quick, make a wish,” she said, when all thirty-five had been lit.

Mac wasn’t one to make wishes. He closed his eyes briefly to humor them, then with a deep breath, blew out the candles. One remained lit. He blew once more, it went out and then burst into flame again.

“All right. So who put the trick candle on the cake?” he asked, surveying the small group gathered around him.

“No wishes for you this year,” Tabitha said smartly as she pulled the candles from the frosting. “Who’s having cake?”

“I haven’t had breakfast,” Mac remarked.

“Sir, this is breakfast,” Tabitha retorted, cutting the cake with a large knife. “I’ll cut you a big one.”

“First he has to open his present,” Jenny reminded everyone.

Present? He squirmed uncomfortably. “Didn’t we agree last year that there were going to be no more presents?” He plastered his sternest look on his face.

“You agreed,” Tabitha retorted. “We didn’t.”

Jenny produced a brightly wrapped package. He fumbled with the gold ribbon that refused to come undone. Finally Jenny reached over and clipped it with scissors. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

Inside the box was a T-shirt that had a cartoon drawing of a shaggy mutt on the front. Below was a caption that read “In Dog Years I’m Dead.”

He grinned. “Very funny, ladies.”

“We know you’re not dead, sir,” Jenny spoke up.

“Well, Jenny does anyway,” Tabitha quipped. “She answers your private line. What’s the total so far this month?”

“Only seven. He’s slipping,” Jenny answered.

“Oh-oh. He is getting old, isn’t he?” Lynn, the other vet on staff, teased.

Michael didn’t need to ask to what the number seven referred. His all-female staff made no secret of the poll they had each month. Instead of having sports pools as most offices had, they had a Dr. Mac pool. Every woman in the office put in five bucks and made a guess as to how many women would bring in a healthy pet just for the chance to spend a few minutes with him.

“Dr. Mac, you should get married and put all those poor women out of their misery,” Jenny advised.

He sighed. “At my age, Jenny, all the good ones are gone.”

“You’re just not looking in the right places,” Tabitha told him, handing him a large square of chocolate cake iced with white frosting.

Michael wasn’t really looking at all. He’d never had to. Women found him. Ever since he’d played football in high school and college, he hadn’t lacked for female companions. And as for marriage, he’d never thought much about it. Why should he? He had a great life as a single guy and he didn’t need to complicate it with the kind of love romanticized by songs and movies.

“Are you still dating Julia?” Tabitha wanted to know.

“Oh, good heavens, no. She’s gone. It’s a Colleen now,” Jenny answered.

“It’s nobody right now,” Michael corrected her.

“That might change real soon,” Phyllis, the lab tech, said smugly.

“Of course it’ll change,” another piped up. “It’s simply a matter of time.”

Michael just grinned in amusement. Over the years he’d grown accustomed to their good-natured teasing.

“Yes, it is. Listen to this,” Phyllis commanded everyone, waving the newspaper in midair. “It’s Dr. Mac’s horoscope for having a birthday today,” she announced, then cleared her throat before reading aloud. “‘You may help someone who is down on his or her luck by buying his or her wares.’”

“That’s nothing new. Dr. Mac does that all the time. He takes Henry’s products even though he knows we won’t be able to use them all,” Jenny reminded everyone.

Phyllis continued. “Your lucky money months are September and January.”

“Guess that means we should wait to hit him up for a raise, eh?” Tabitha quipped.

Phyllis smiled, then went on. “‘Listen to the advice of a close relative and act upon it.’”

“I don’t have any close relatives except Tessie, and I always take her advice,” Michael said.

“And so you should. She’s a wise woman,” Phyllis told him, then finished reading the horoscope. “Now here’s the best part. ‘Take a romantic risk in the next three weeks because you’re more emotionally available to love now than you’ve ever been in the past.’”

“Oh-oh. Maybe Dr. Mac is finally going to meet his match,” Tabitha said with a challenging gleam in her eye.

Michael laughed. “You ladies know I can’t give my heart away. It belongs to all of you.”

That produced a chorus of groans.

“Spoken like a true bachelor,” Lynn quipped.

Michael threw up his hands in defense. “Hey! I’m only thirty-five. Even if that is old in dog years, it’s young in man years. And you ladies know I’m perfectly happy being your boss and dedicating my time and energy to what I love most—my patients. Speaking of which, aren’t there any here this morning?”

“They can wait,” Tabitha assured him. “Finish your cake.”

“And tell us your plans for this evening,” Jenny added.

“I believe Tessie is cooking a special meal for me. I offered to take her out to dinner, but she insisted on cooking it herself,” he answered.

“And so you should let her. She’s enjoys fussing over you,” Tabitha said. “You’re lucky to have such a wonderful woman for a mother.”

Michael couldn’t argue that one. He was very fortunate indeed to have Tessie McFerrin for a mother. He finished the cake, washed it down with a couple of sips from his bottle of mineral water, then reached for his lab coat.

“Time for work,” he announced as he slipped his arms into the sleeves of the white jacket.

“You will keep us posted, won’t you, Dr. Mac?” Phyllis asked.

“About what?”

“Whether or not your horoscope is right.”

“You mean about the lucky months?” he quipped with a smile.

Phyllis gave him a playful punch on the arm, prompting Tabitha to say, “Never mind him, Phyl. His time is coming. He just doesn’t know it yet.”

Michael smiled to himself. Little did they know, he thought, and went to greet his first patient.

EVERY TIME MICHAEL DROVE to Tessie’s home on Lake Minnetonka, he could feel a sense of calmness wash over him. There was something to be said about going home, especially when that home was located on one of the state’s largest lakes in a sleepy little town nearly surrounded by water.

When Tessie and her husband had first built the house, it had been one of the many charming waterfront cottages dotting the shoreline. As the metropolitan area of Minneapolis and St. Paul had spread westward, the region had changed from a vacation resort to a residential community.

Now it was a playground for visitors, plus home to many who were fortunate enough to have one of the residences on the waterfront. Tessie was one of those residents living in a lake community yet having access to the city.

After knocking on her door and getting no answer, Michael reached into his pocket for his keys and let himself into the house.

“Tessie?” he called out, his voice resonating in the large, open hallway. He poked his head into the parlor, but she wasn’t sitting in her favorite chair—a rocker he’d given her for her birthday a few years back. As he crossed the foyer, an Abyssinian cat slinked across the tiled floor, meowing as she rubbed up against his legs.

He bent to scratch her neck. “Hey, Cleo. How’s life treating you?”

After a couple more meows, the cat slunk away. Michael guessed that Tessie was in the kitchen, for the aroma of pot roast tickled his nose. “Tessie?” he called out again, but still there was no answer.

He soon discovered she wasn’t busy at work preparing dinner. Although wonderful aromas permeated the kitchen, and numerous pots sat on the stove, Tessie was nowhere in sight.

The back door, however, was open. He stepped outside and made a quick survey of the yard. He saw the patio, where wicker furniture sat empty. Geraniums hung from the eaves of the gazebo, but the chairs inside were vacant. The sandy beach was empty, the bench at the end of the dock held no one. Finally he looked toward the flower garden that stretched the entire length of the yard. There he caught a glimpse of a wide-brimmed sun hat, but it slipped around the corner of the house.

“Tessie?” he called out, and the hat came back into full view.

A smiling Tessie waved her gloved hand and smiled. “Oh, you’re here already! I’ll be right there,” she called out to him, and disappeared momentarily before emerging with an armful of lilacs.

Watching her scoot across the yard caused a smile to appear on Michael’s face. For a woman of eighty-one, she was extremely agile and full of energy. Although her hair was as white as snow, there was nothing else about Tessie McFerrin that identified her as an octogenarian. She had a zest for life few women half her age possessed.

When she reached the back stoop, she motioned for him to bend so she could give him a hug and a kiss. “Happy Birthday, Michael. I’m so glad you’re spending it with me.”

“Me, too,” he told her, opening the back door for her. “Dinner smells wonderful.”

“It’s pot roast.”

He smiled. “I thought so.” She’d made it for him every year on his birthday ever since he could remember.

“It’s a lot of food for just two people,” she said as they stepped into the kitchen. “You should have brought a friend.”

“You’re the only one I want to be with on my birthday, Tessie. You know that.”

She carried the lilacs over to the sink where a cut crystal vase sat on the counter. As she filled the vase with water, she said, “Has it been a nice birthday so far?”

“Yes, I’ve had a very nice day,” he told her, which wasn’t exactly the truth, but it wasn’t a lie, either. Just because he didn’t want to celebrate his birthday didn’t mean he should tell her that. He couldn’t tell her that, not after all the preparations she’d made. “They had a cake for me at the office.”

“I knew they were going to. Tabitha called and said they were going to throw you a surprise party, but I told her that it wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“Thank you for saying that. You know I’m not fond of birthdays.”

She set the flowers on the dining room table. “I know. That’s why I didn’t make a cake. I made pie. Lemon meringue.”

Another of his favorites. “You shouldn’t spoil me.”

She smiled innocently as she walked past him. “You’re fun to spoil. I’m surprised some other woman hasn’t discovered that by now.”

He let the remark slip without commenting. In recent months she’d been mentioning his single status more often. Michael thought it was probably because the older she became, the more she worried about him not having someone to share his life with after she was gone.

As she tied an apron around her waist, he said, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

She gave him a gentle shove toward the dining room. “It’s your birthday. You sit while I dish it up. It won’t take me but a few minutes.”

“But I want to help,” he insisted.

“Then open the wine and pour us each a glass,” she instructed. “There’s a bottle of white zinfandel chilling in the dining room.”

When he walked into the dining room, he saw the wine bucket with the bottle inside. He also noticed that there were not one but two pies cooling on the sideboard. When Tessie carried in a platter of pot roast with potatoes and vegetables, he asked, “Do we each get a pie for dessert?”

“As long as I was making one I thought I might as well make two. You never know when you’ll get unexpected company,” she answered innocently.

“You didn’t invite anyone over tonight, did you?”

“Of course not,” she answered quickly, then disappeared into the kitchen again.

When she returned, she carried the bun warmer and a large bowl of salad. “I think that’s about it,” she said, untying the apron from around her waist. “Shall we sit down?”

He held her chair for her, then after she was settled, took his own spot to her right. Before eating, she reached for his hand and covered it with hers. “I feel very blessed, Michael, to be able to celebrate another birthday with you, although you should be celebrating with someone young and pretty.”

“On this day, it wouldn’t seem right to spend it anywhere but here with you.” He lifted her hands to his lips and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. “I owe you so much.”

“You don’t owe me, Michael. When love is given, it should be given freely, not with expectations of getting something in return. You’ve brought me such great joy….” she paused, as emotion choked her throat. She pulled her hand out of his and reached for the handkerchief in her pocket. “This is a happy occasion, not a sad one,” she said, dabbing at her eyes with the embroidered white linen cloth. “So no more of this schmaltz. Let’s have a nice dinner together and you can tell me what your day was like at the clinic.”

Michael did use his work as dinner conversation, knowing that Tessie loved animals as much as he did. If there was one person who understood his passion for his work, it was Tessie, and she’d always encouraged him to follow his dream of becoming a vet.

It was a nice way to spend one’s birthday and the way he’d spent all of his—or at least the ones he could remember. He’d arrived at the McFerrin home when he was only four. Tessie and her husband had been taking in foster children most of their married life. Shortly before Michael had arrived, they’d decided to put their efforts into doing other types of volunteer work.

But then a friend of Tessie’s had told her about Michael. Only four years old, he needed a place to stay while his mother waited for her trial to begin. As soon as Tessie had taken one look at him, she’d convinced Frank that they should take in one more foster child. When Michael’s mother had been sentenced to a long prison term, Frank agreed with Tessie that they would provide a home for him as long as it was necessary.

Little did anyone know that Michael’s birth mother would die of pneumonia while serving her sentence. When that happened, Tessie convinced Frank to adopt Michael, since there were no other living relatives. Michael had been a McFerrin for less than a year when Frank had a massive coronary and Tessie was left to raise him alone.

“I’d like to propose a toast,” she said, raising her wineglass in the air. “To another year of good health and happiness in your work.” She clinked her glass against his, then took a sip of the wine. “Now, when you’ve finished eating, I have a surprise for you.”

“You weren’t supposed to buy me a birthday present. I don’t need anything but your love,” he said, reaching across to squeeze her hand.

She smiled. “That’s very sweet of you to say, but I happen to disagree.”

He simply returned her smile and decided to graciously accept the shirt and tie she’d probably spent an afternoon finding for him. Only he soon discovered it wasn’t a gift of clothing that she’d purchased for him. When they’d finished eating, she handed him an envelope.

“Go ahead. Open it. It won’t bite,” she teased as he hesitated.