gravely. “Thank you, Link.”
“I hate to say I told you so, but I did. Now do you understand?”
Annie’s brown eyes clouded, and she crossed her arms protectively over her chest. “You were right about the Lesters.”
“And I was right about what we have to do.” Didn’t she realize that? “If you want to keep that child, this is the only solution, and the sooner we do it the better. The Lesters are probably consulting their attorney as we speak. There’ll be a hearing, and we’d better go into it married if we’re going to have a chance.”
“We have to see an attorney.”
“Annie—”
Anger flared in her eyes, but behind it he saw vulnerability. “I’m not going off half-cocked, so you might as well get used to the idea. We see a lawyer first. Then—” She seemed to take a breath. “Well, then we’ll see what’s best.”
He could say he already knew what was best, but he suspected that wasn’t going to sway her. “I’ll call Chet Longly. He’s the lawyer the firm uses. Will he do, or do you want to find someone yourself?”
“He’ll do.” She shivered.
He nodded, picking up the phone. At least she seemed to accept that he was irrevocably involved in this. For once, she couldn’t avoid him.
And that was just as well, because one way or another, he intended to marry her.
Chapter Two
Annie held the baby on her lap as she sat next to Link in the attorney’s office the next morning, watching as every avenue of escape was blocked to her. Each word Chet Longly spoke seemed to make marriage to Link loom more inexorably.
She gazed past the attorney, trying to ease the sense of things closing in on her. His office, like every other important thing in the small town, faced the town square. Two days ago the flag at its center had hung at half-staff, in mourning for the funerals of two prominent citizens. Today the banner snapped in a brisk September breeze, colors bright in the sunshine.
Marcy wiggled, restless after a half hour’s worth of adult conversation. Holding one arm around the baby’s rounded middle, Annie reached into the diaper bag and pulled out one of the soft toys she’d tossed in before leaving the house. Maybe that would occupy Marcy for a moment at least.
Becca’s next-door neighbor had offered to watch Marcy during the appointment, and she’d turned her down so quickly that it was a wonder the grandmotherly woman hadn’t taken offense. After that episode with the Lesters, she was afraid to leave Marcy with anyone. Maybe there wasn’t anyone in this town she could trust.
Well, probably the man who had been Davis’s attorney was trustworthy. He’d been openly apologetic that he’d never succeeded in getting Davis to make a will. Davis, like so many people, hadn’t thought there was any hurry.
Who would have expected the unthinkable?
Lord, why did this happen? Why Davis and Becca?
There wasn’t any answer to that, just as there hadn’t been any answer during the long night when she’d asked God whether this marriage was the right thing to do.
She shot a sideways glance at Link while the attorney patiently explained the ramifications of a custody hearing. Link’s grave, composed face gave no hint to his feelings. He thought he already knew the only answer.
“So, as I say, there’s no cut-and-dried solution.” Chet Longly spread his hands, his open, friendly face troubled. “The judge has a great deal of discretion in a custody case. Even if you had written proof that Davis and Becca wanted you to take Marcy, the judge could decide against that. It’s not likely, but it could happen.”
Link stirred. “You agree that our case would be stronger if we were married.”
“I can’t advise you to marry in an effort to deceive the court.” Chet said the words as if he walked on eggshells. “On the other hand, if you marry because you’re fond of each other and because you want to provide security for a child you both love, I think that could tip the scales in your favor.”
Link glanced at her, his dark eyes seeming to say he’d told her so.
Well, he couldn’t blame her for exploring every possibility, could he? Knowing Link, he probably could. He’d never had much patience with her passion for details.
“Also, there’s the fact that Ms. Gideon is living in the Conrad house, already taking care of the child,” the attorney went on. “I hate to bring up the old saw about possession, but it does make the judge less likely to order a change that could be upsetting to the baby.”
Link’s jaw tightened. “I suspect that was what Frank had in mind yesterday. If he’d gotten his hands on Marcy—”
Annie suppressed the shudder that moved through her. In those frightening moments, when she’d actually feared the Lesters would snatch Marcy from her arms, she’d turned to Link.
She needed help. Hard though it was to accept, she couldn’t do this alone.
“Either way, the best thing is to set up a hearing before the judge as quickly as possible, before the Lesters take any other action.” The attorney stood, looking at them with concern in his face. “I’ll leave you alone to discuss it for a few minutes.”
He crossed the room, his footsteps making little sound on the plush carpet. The door closed softly behind him.
She had to stop collecting options and make a decision. However much she might have resented it in the past, she knew that Link’s loyalty had always been to Davis. If that loyalty extended to his daughter, maybe that was all she could ask.
“It’s not easy, is it.”
She met Link’s gaze, startled, to find that he was looking at her with sympathy.
“No.” She tried to swallow the lump that refused to leave her throat in spite of the fact that she’d cried every tear she had to shed in the past few days. “I spent most of the night praying about it. Maybe this is the only answer, but how can I take vows I don’t mean?”
Link’s hand tightened to a fist on the polished mahogany arm of the chair. “Don’t you think I have qualms about that?”
“I didn’t know it mattered to you.” She had assumed, when he’d stood next to her as godparents to the baby, that he believed, but she hadn’t probed deeper than that.
“It does.” He clipped the words off, his face grim. “You’re not the only person to struggle with this, Annie.”
She tried to smile. “Are you getting any answers?”
“I don’t pretend to be a great theologian—”
He leaned toward her, and she felt the intensity of his belief reaching out to her.
“—but I am sure it would be a greater wrong to let that baby go to people who don’t care about her than to marry for reasons other than love.”
His
