“If…if we do this, how long would our marriage have to last?”
Link frowned. “I don’t know. But I’m not involved with anyone else, so I’m in no hurry. And from what Becca has said about you, I’m assuming you’re not in a relationship right now, either.”
The thought of Becca discussing her love life with Link left a bad taste in her mouth. Had her sister thought her an object of pity because she didn’t have a husband and child?
“That’s not really the point.” She kept her voice cool. “I do have a life elsewhere.”
“Once the judge grants custody to us, I don’t see any reason why you couldn’t go ahead with your plans to take Marcy back to Boston. After all, your parents are there and it would be logical for you to want to be near them. I’ll stay here to manage the company. After a reasonable period of time, one of us can file for divorce.”
The image of her cozy apartment in Boston floated in front of Annie’s eyes, a haven from the uncertainty and grief of the past days. She could take care of Marcy there without the constant reminders of her loss.
Marcy threw her black-and-white block, and it bounced harmlessly against the side of the desk. “Down,” she announced, wiggling her way off Annie’s lap.
“Where are you going, little girl?” Link caught her before she could grab the cord and pull the telephone to the floor. “Here, have a look at this.” He handed her his key ring, and Marcy gave him an enchanting smile.
“She has Davis’s smile, you know that?” He touched the baby’s cheek lightly.
Annie glimpsed a sheen of tears in his dark eyes, and the sight disarmed her. It seemed to tear down some of the barricades she held against him.
“Yes, she does,” she said softly.
Link cleared his throat, as if he felt the same tightness she did. “Davis was my best friend. I owe it to him to take care of his child. I don’t know anything about changing diapers, but I’ll do my best to run the company properly and preserve her inheritance. I can’t offer more than that.”
Oddly enough, that glimpse of his grief was reassuring. His concern might be primarily for the company, but it was for the baby’s sake as well as his own.
Link looked at her, his eyebrows lifting in the question he’d been asking all along. “Well, Annie?”
For Marcy, she told herself. For Marcy.
“All right.” She had to force the words out. “I’ll marry you.”
It was his wedding day, and he was on his way to meet his bride. Link grimaced at his reflection in the rearview mirror. The three days they’d had to wait once they applied for the license had been an eternity. He’d been constantly on edge, sure something would go wrong—that Annie would back out, that Frank would launch some unexpected offense, anything.
So far, so good. The wedding was today, and the hearing before Judge Carstairs set for tomorrow. Chet seemed as optimistic as an attorney could be. With any luck, this time the next day they’d be safe.
And then? For a moment he couldn’t see beyond the immediate goal. He shook his head. It was very simple. Annie would return to Boston with the baby, and he’d go back to running the company.
He drew up in front of the church and sat for a moment, staring out at the square. The gazebo glinted white through the surrounding trees. The maples, just beginning to change color, advertised the turning of the season. Tragedy happened, but life moved on.
Right now, moving on meant going through with this wedding. He and Annie had an agreement, just like any other business contract. As long as they kept the situation strictly business, no one would get hurt.
He glanced at the florist’s box lying on the passenger seat and jeered at himself. He was breaking his own rules. He hadn’t intended to do that but he’d found himself walking into the florist’s. No matter what had prompted their wedding, a bride should have flowers.
An orchid hadn’t seemed quite right for Annie, and the chrysanthemums the shop had in stock for the high school homecoming were out of the question. He’d settled for a small arrangement of yellow rosebuds, and their delicate aroma filtered through the white cardboard box. Hopefully the very idea of flowers wouldn’t remind her of the funeral.
He caught sight of Chet, hovering outside the church, ready to be their witness. Now or never. He picked up the box, got out of the car and walked across to meet his best man.
“Still sure about this?” Chet raised his eyebrows. He was dressed, like Link, in a dark suit that seemed appropriate for an informal wedding.
“I’m sure.” He pulled open the door to the church offices. “We made arrangements to have the ceremony in Pastor Laing’s study instead of the sanctuary.”
“Too many memories in there, I guess.”
Link nodded, throat tightening again. Too many, and too recent.
The door to the pastor’s study stood open. He stepped inside. Nora Evers, Davis and Becca’s next-door neighbor, held Marcy. An improbable hat perched on Nora’s white hair, and the baby was trying hard to pull off a purple flower.
“Nora, glad you could be here.” They’d needed witnesses, and he’d felt the grandmotherly woman would add a touch of permanence to the proceedings.
Pastor Laing said something welcoming, but Link’s attention was caught by Annie, standing unsmiling in front of the window. She wore a navy business suit with a white blouse, and her shiny brown hair curved in toward her rounded chin. Unlike Nora, she’d apparently seen no reason to wear a hat. She looked cool, severe and businesslike.
Once he’d been challenged by that cool exterior, but in the current circumstances he found it somehow reassuring. Annie looked as if nothing could touch her.
“I guess we should get started.” Pastor Laing picked up a worn black worship book and came around the desk to stand in front of them, his face austere. “If you’re both sure you’re ready.”
“We are,” Link said. He handed Annie the florist’s box.
She looked startled, then opened the box and took out the roses. He couldn’t see her expression, but she clutched the flowers tightly.
They’d talked with Garth Laing at length about this wedding, being carefully honest with him. Link certainly had no intention of lying to a man he respected as much as he did Garth. Maybe they’d left a few things out when they’d discussed their reasons for being married immediately, but if they had, he suspected someone as intuitive as the pastor could read between the lines.
Garth had agreed to marry them, that was the important thing. If they’d gone to a justice of the peace, he wasn’t sure Annie’s resolve would have held up.
Garth glanced from Link’s face to Annie’s. He nodded, as if satisfied with whatever he saw there. Then he began to read the age-old words of the wedding service.
Breathe, Link told himself. All you have to do is remember your responses. That, and hope Annie doesn’t say “I don’t” instead
