“The mattress in the guestroom isn’t all that great. I knew you’d be more comfortable in here.”
A rush of guilt hit. What would Meg say if she knew where her twin sister spent the night? And had Martin really given up his bed, or had he crawled in beside her? She’d been so deeply asleep, she wouldn’t have noticed if he had.
The unanswered question gnawed at Liza’s thoughts. But she couldn’t say, “Where, exactly, did you sleep last night, Martin?”
He flexed his shoulders and shifted his head from side to side.
“I’m ordering a new mattress for the guest room as soon as I get to the office. My back feels like I spent a day unloading lumber.”
The rush of relief made her almost giddy. At least he’d been a room away -- not just a touch away.
While she’d dodged another bullet, how long could she play this dangerous game without getting hurt? Or without hurting Meg and Martin?
“You’re sure you’re feeling okay?”
“Positive. But it’s nice to be spoiled so thoroughly.” She shot him a smug glance. “I could get used to this kind of treatment, you know.”
He cocked his head, and his eyes twinkled. “You might have that opportunity. I plan to serve my wife breakfast in bed on special occasions.”
“And what do you consider a special occasion?”
“Every other Tuesday.”
Liza giggled. How she loved Martin’s sense of humor. And she couldn’t deny that the glint in his gaze made her heart skip a beat.
But she sobered fast when she remembered that this breakfast was for Meg. Martin would treat Meg like a queen if they married. And they’d be together right now if it weren’t for her.
As she took several bites of her omelet, she again wondered if it had been wise to reconnect Meg with Zach. A few days ago, she’d have said, “absolutely.” But now, she wasn’t so sure.
“How’s the omelet?”
“It’s simply delicious. I’m enjoying every bite.”
“Uh-oh. I forgot the strawberry jam, and I know it’s your favorite. “Be right back.”
As Martin left the room, Liza shuddered, wondering what would happen if he learned raspberry jam was her favorite. And worse yet, that the woman he planned to marry had been reconnected with her high school sweetheart.
Martin returned a moment later. “Here it is. I picked some up at Cox’s gift shop. As you probably know, Martha Cox won a blue ribbon for her strawberry jam at Festival Days last summer.” He strode to the bedside and handed Liza the jar.
“Thank you. You’re the most thoughtful man I’ve ever met.”
He bowed slightly. “Hey, if you’re this nice to me, I’ll serve you breakfast in bed twice a week.”
Liza smiled as she slathered the jam onto her toast. While this breakfast wasn’t meant for her, she planned to enjoy every bite. Travis Randall never had a clue as to what kind of jam she liked, nor did he care. And she’d stake her career on the fact that Travis would never have served her breakfast in bed! This was a once-in-a-lifetime event, and that thought made her extremely sad.
“Listen, honey, I need to get to the office. Shall I drop you at the cottage on my way?”
“Sure,” Liza said.
The sooner the better, her good sense prompted. Before she got any more caught up in this fantasy world. Besides, Lancelot might have an accident if she didn’t get home fast.
“No more work for you for a while,” he said. “It’s time to do something you love.”
Red flags were starting to wave. Liza shot Martin a questioning glance wondering what he had in mind.
“The barn dance is tonight,” he told her. “You thought you’d miss it because of your trip to Kansas City. But since you’re in town, we’ll head over to the Chapman’s barn for a night of music and dancing.”
Liza could have cried at the news. Martin thought she’d hated speech writing but she’d loved it. And he assumed she loved barn dances when the very thought of one petrified her. She suppressed the groan welling up inside her. “The barn dance?” she parroted as her stomach knotted with tension.
“You bet, sweetie. Put on a real pretty dress, and I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty.”
Liza forced a smile and tried to look pleased instead of panicked. “I can’t wait,” she told him.
But it was a big lie. Another big lie. She’d heard of professional gamblers, but never professional liars. When she returned to Kansas City, she’d see if there was therapy available for people who couldn’t tell the truth -- or at the very least, a support group.
At the rate she was going, they’d elect her president at the first meeting!
* * *
Martin dropped Meg off at the cottage and headed for his office. As he stepped in the door, the phone started ringing, and it kept ringing steadily all morning. His current caller was Hugo Schmidt, a young businessman Martin liked a lot.
“You bet I’ll be there to cut the ribbon for the new Schmidt’s Bakery,” Martin told him after they’d chatted several minutes. “I’m glad you bought the new building. Your grandfather would be so proud.”
“Thank you, Martin. I think so, too.”
As he hung up, Martin felt a sense of pride. He loved helping the citizens of Meadow Springs keep their small businesses alive -- no minor feat in a corporation-oriented society. Hugo was a talented fellow with a business degree and a deep love for the bakery his grandfather founded fifty years earlier. Hugo spoke with enthusiasm about his plans to keep the family business going strong.
Most of the morning’s calls related to his role as acting mayor, but if he juggled his schedule, he could swing both his “real job” and his civic responsibilities. Meg’s new supportive attitude made everything easier.
Meg. He’d dropped her off at the cottage a few hours ago and darned if he didn’t miss her already! He’d like nothing better than to take her to lunch, but she needed and deserved some rest. So he’d have to wait until tonight to see her.
He decided to drop by Milton’s Jewelers before eating lunch. As he walked down Main Street, it happened again. Each time he thought about buying the ring, a colony of butterflies attacked his stomach. And the more seriously he considered it, the more aggressive they became.
While he’d put the pain of his engagement to Melissa behind him, each time he wanted to move toward marriage, the butterflies came back in droves. And so did the memories.
As he approached the store, Martin was glad to see Ernie behind the counter. Now well into his sixties, Ernie had hired some part-timers to help out. But Martin wanted to talk with Ernie, personally.
“Hi there, Martin. It’s good to see you.”
“You, too, Ern. Listen, I’ll make this short since you’re probably heading to lunch.”
“I’m in no hurry. What can I do for you?”
“I want to see the ring I have on layaway for Meg.”
“Sure.” Ernie walked over to his safe, and a moment later took out a black velvet ring box. He flipped open the lid and placed it on the counter. “Are you ever going to do more than look at this ring? I’ve held it here for months.”
“Yeah, I know. But because my last engagement boomeranged, I’m super cautious.”
“I get that. But it’s been a long time since Melissa left. You need to move on, son.”
He nodded. “You’re right.”
While Ernie was old enough to be his father, they’d become extremely close when Melissa broke off the engagement. “This ring’s a real beauty,” Martin told his friend.
“So is Meg O’Malley. And she might not wait around forever.”
Ernie was right about that, too. Meg’s thirtieth birthday was three months away, and she’d always said that marriage and a family were high priorities. “Do you think Meg will like this ring?”
“I guarantee it. You won’t have to worry that this diamond will be returned.”
Even six months ago, the reference to Martin’s aborted wedding would have hi
t him like a sucker punch to the gut. But with Meg’s help, he’d moved past the pain. His canceled wedding now ranked as a bad memory not a daily nightmare to endure.
“I’m curious, Ernie. Has any other bride brought back an engagement ring and left it in your shop?”
“Nope. Melissa’s the only one. But forget about her. Your business is thriving, you’re a popular civic leader, and marriage is your next step. You and Meg make a terrific couple. The two of you will be pillars of the Meadow Springs’ community.”
“Thanks for your vote of confidence,” Martin said, feeling warmed by his friend’s approval. Now that Meg was supportive of his becoming mayor, the last obstacle had been removed.
Martin flipped the lid shut on the ring box. “Tell me what I owe, and we’ll settle up.”
Ernie’s bushy eyebrows shot sky high. “You mean you’re taking the ring with you? Right now?”
“You bet I am. Like you said, Meg might not wait around forever.”
Ernie leaned across the counter and gripped Martin’s shoulder. “You’ve made a great decision. Good thing you finally climbed down off that fence.”
He chuckled. “Yeah. It was getting mighty lonely up there.”
Ernie smiled. “I wish you all the happiness in the world, Martin. You deserve it.”
“Hey thanks, my friend, for everything.” Then he wrote Ernie a hefty check.
“You’re more than welcome. Be sure you invite me to the wedding. I’ll bring a big present.”
“I’m holding you to that.”
Martin slipped the ring box into his pocket and left the store. His stomach reminded him it was past lunchtime so he decided he’d grab a sandwich. It sure would taste better if Meg were sitting across from him.
Should he propose to her tonight? When he fingered the velvet box in his pocket, the butterflies launched a new attack. And along with the fluttering, a slight sense of dread tugged at his heart.
He tried to shrug it off. So what if he’d had one disastrous engagement? Other people made poor choices and moved on to happy marriages.
And I will, too, Martin told himself firmly. I will, too.
* * *
The next morning, Liza made herself a cup of herbal tea and flopped onto the couch. Ever since Martin dropped her off yesterday, she’d felt troubled and lonely. And as the minutes ticked past, she’d become more and more discouraged.
Just a week ago she’d been living a normal life. She’d met with clients to discuss their concerns, and she’d gone to court to defend them. Last week, her life was a piece of cake—a tasty slice of strawberry shortcake topped with a dollop of whipped cream.
If she described her life in cake imagery today, she’d call it an upside-down cake. And it wouldn’t be so bad if she’d only turned her own world upside-down. Unfortunately, she’d done the same for her twin sister. And she’d soon send Martin’s world spiraling out of control.
Lancelot jumped onto the couch beside her and licked her hand. “Sorry, sport. I know I’m not good company,” she said as she scratched his head. “That’s what happens when you go around wrecking people’s lives. But I’m staying at the cottage today. Then I won’t mess up anyone’s life more than I already have.”
The pup plopped his head on Liza’s lap. Did he know she wasn’t Meg? If he did, he didn’t seem to mind. Lancelot treated Liza with complete acceptance and devotion. He welcomed her each time she entered the cottage, and seemed sad each time she left. Lancelot was loyal, devoted, and loved unconditionally. If he had the world all figured out, why couldn’t she do the same?
Time dragged past slower than molasses dripping from a bottle. At dinner time, Liza fixed herself a large salad, watched mindless television, then turned to the ten o’clock news.
“I should have called Meg,” she said after she’d brushed her teeth. Lancelot shot her an annoyed glance as if he thought so, too. “I would have called her sooner, but I’m half sick with guilt. All this deception is making me crazy. I’ll probably end up with an ulcer.”
Lancelot yawned. Apparently, he didn’t want to explore the subject of Liza’s health too closely.
“When I spoke with Meg the other day, things weren’t going well with Zach. She told me Zach hates her, and that I’d ruined her vacation and her life! Imagine that!”
Lancelot was finished with the therapy session. He headed for the back door and scratched on it. “Okay, sweetie, you go out and play awhile. Enjoy yourself.”
He took off at top speed obviously ready for a much-needed break.
Liza sank back onto the couch. She felt like the scum of the earth. She’d always been brutally honest, but recently had morphed into a pathological liar. And everything that could possibly backfire was doing so—with style! While she still believed Zach and Meg were the perfect match, had she taken things too far? Should she have let Meg marry Martin and be done with it?
No! She knew this would be a tough assignment when she’d taken it on. But if she quit now, Meg would marry the wrong man. And she’d pay for that mistake the rest of her life.
* * *
“I’ve got to dress for the barn dance,” Liza told Lancelot the following evening. “Come on, you can help me pick an outfit from Meg’s closet.”
As she headed for the bedroom, the pup raced just ahead of her. Did he understand every word she said?
While she’d never attended a barn dance, Liza figured a flared skirt would be appropriate attire. Luckily, Meg had a closet full of them. She pulled out several and finally chose a rose-colored skirt with a small-flower print and dug a pale pink blouse from her suitcase. She normally wore this blouse with a stark-black designer suit to soften it a bit. Hopefully, she would blend into the crowd reasonably well.
The last thing Liza wanted was to call attention to herself. But she couldn’t avoid that no matter what she wore. The moment Martin started dancing with her, wouldn’t he guess she wasn’t Meg? If so, the playacting would end tonight.
“Do you like this skirt, Lancelot?” she asked.
The pup yipped and spun round and round, making her chuckle. “Hey, buddy, you’re making me dizzy. But I’m glad you think this skirt works. Thanks for your vote.”
Liza pulled off Meg’s neon orange sweats she’d lounged in all day and slipped on the skirt and blouse. She went through her hair-curling ritual, a waste of time in her opinion. But she must look as Meg-like as possible tonight. Especially since her dancing skills could never equal Meg’s.
Promptly at six, Martin arrived at the cottage and greeted her with a kiss. “Hi, babe. I almost invited you to lunch, but decided to let you rest.”
Her rebel heart fluttered at his words. While her mind told her to spend less time with Martin, her heart disagreed. “I did rest this afternoon,” she said—if you considered moping around in a state of despair as resting.
“I’m glad. I don’t want my girl worn out. Most of the time, I can’t keep up with you.”
She smiled as enthusiastically as a terminally-depressed woman could smile. “You’re so considerate.”
They left the cottage, and when Martin opened the door to his SUV, Liza slid in. “I like that outfit, honey. You’ll look great on the dance floor.”
“Let’s hope so,” she said, knowing that was not the case.
Martin took the same roads that led to his cabin but turned onto a different side road. Then they bumped down a gravel road toward a grassy field. Lordy, lordy. Meadow Springs’ folks loved the out-of-doors. In Kansas City, Liza spent most of her time in air-conditioned buildings, not fields full of daisies and black-eyed Susans.
When they climbed out of the Cadillac, Liza picked up the scent of a wild rosebush blossoming nearby, and a large patch of sunflowers added splashes of color. As butterflies flitted from blossom to blossom, Liza realized she’d miss connecting with nature when she went home.
A number of cars had already parked in neat rows. She and Martin walked toward the large red barn, and Liza’s stomach clenched.
How would she survive a barn dance without giving herself away?
“Your recital is next week, isn’t it?” Martin asked. “On Friday evening?”
The dance recital! Liza had pushed that frightening event out of her thoughts. “Um, yes it is. And this week is our dress rehearsal.”
“Maybe it’s good that you came home early. I know you hated to miss the rehearsal with your students.”
“I sure did,” Liza said, telling one of her biggest fibs yet. While she’d be gone before the recital took place, the rehearsal loomed just ahead. And she’d give up her next paycheck to get out of it.
“You will attend the rehearsal, won’t you? Even though it’s your vacation?”
“I think so.”
“Oh, you’ve got to, honey. Dance Unlimited is your baby. You make that school tick -- with Rachel’s help, of course.” He turned to face her. “Hey, I’ve got an idea. Why don’t I come and watch the rehearsal?”
A huge lump formed in Liza’s throat. “Come and watch?”
“Since I have a conflict and can’t attend the recital, I’ll come to the rehearsal. Then I won’t miss out altogether.” He seemed pleased as punch about his decision.
“Oh, um, great idea,” she said as they approached the barn. “The girls will love having you there.”
More trouble ahead, Liza realized. Martin, along with the students, would expect her to dance the last number. That was like expecting a dentist to perform heart surgery.
A wave of nausea hit her stomach as they neared the barn. Her life as Meg got more complicated by the minute. Each day the challenges seemed to quadruple.
Liza forced her attention back to the current dilemma. One crisis at a time, she told herself. One crisis at a time.
The smell of fresh hay assaulted her senses as they entered the barn. She held her breath trying to stifle the sneezes that started to build. People milled around, talking and laughing and sipping apple cider.
“Hi, guys,” Rachel called as she came toward them. “Are you ready for some fancy footwork?”
Liza smiled. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Bride by Chance Page 10
