Ready for Marriage?

by Beverly Barton; Ann Major Anne Marie Winston

  And it was all Derek’s fault. He still had been married then and she’d never even entertained the thought that he might be hers someday. Even so, he’d been the standard by which she’d judged other men, even if she hadn’t realized it at the time.

  But then Deb had died. And gradually, she’d acknowledged that her girlish love hadn’t faded, hadn’t died. It had simply matured into a woman’s love. Her heart ached to heal him, but he wouldn’t let her get close.

  And Kristin wasn’t going to spend the rest of her life waiting for Derek to wake up. If he didn’t want her, it was time to move on. Her heart uttered a protest but she shushed it ruthlessly. Maybe there wasn’t another Derek Mahoney out there, but there were plenty of men, good men who could love her, men with whom she could make a home and a family.

  And if a corner of her heart would always belong to Derek, she would be the only one to know or care.

  Decision made, she nodded to herself, then picked up her pencil, determined to accomplish something in the limited time she had. Mollie still napped during the day and Kristin found the quiet afternoons were one of her most productive times. The accounting work she did was portable and she simply brought it along with her when she came to Derek’s house each afternoon.

  It was a good arrangement. He dropped Mollie off in the morning. Kristin fed her breakfast. At noon, they went back to Derek’s house for lunch and then Mollie napped while Kristin worked.

  The only time it got a little hairy was during the last frantic weeks of tax season, when she could work every hour of every day if she chose, and sometimes took on more than she should. But the money was good…and heaven knew she hadn’t been in a position to turn down extra income over the years since her father had died. Not after the debts she’d discovered he’d left.

  Actually, if she went to work full-time as an accountant, she would be able to pay off the remainder of the debt in a year or so, rather than the longer term she’d projected. That wouldn’t be so bad, she encouraged herself.

  Yes, it had been a good arrangement that she and Derek had had. But it was going to have to end.

  Mollie woke shortly after four. Her schedule was fairly predictable unless she was ill, and Kristin let her help make a meat loaf for the evening meal. She had just taken the dish out of the oven at five-thirty when the front door opened.

  She heard Mollie’s excited little voice as she chirped out the events of her day. Sarge, the shepherd mix who accompanied Derek to the clinic each day, came galloping down the hall with an exuberantly wagging tail to greet her, and she cuddled the big dog for a moment before setting his food bowl on the floor and leaving him to eat.

  ‘‘…’ n me ’n Mommy went to the libary ’n we went to the store ’n I taked a nap—’’

  ‘‘You and Kristin,’’ Derek corrected her.

  ‘‘Yeah.’’ The little girl was completely unfazed. ‘‘An’ nen I played wif Play-Doh!’’

  Kristin smiled grimly to herself as she stuffed her work in her briefcase and walked toward the front of the house. Had he thought she was exaggerating about Mollie’s new name for her?

  Derek still stood in the foyer holding Mollie in his arms. His daughter had his face sandwiched between her two tiny hands as she looked intently into his eyes and Kristin’s heart contracted at the sight of the two dark heads so close together. Quietly, she picked up her jacket. ‘‘Hi. I just took the meat loaf out so you can have dinner right away.’’

  Derek stared at her, his blue eyes dark and shuttered. ‘‘You’re not eating with us again?’’

  ‘‘No. I have a board meeting tonight.’’ Since she’d finished college, she’d sat on the animal sanctuary’s board of directors.

  His eyebrows rose. ‘‘That doesn’t start until seven. You have plenty of time.’’

  She couldn’t hold the eye contact as she started around him, expecting him to move out of her way. But he didn’t move, and his broad shoulder was too close to the door for her to pull it open. Taking a deep breath, she met his gaze with a defiant one of her own. ‘‘No, thank you. Excuse me.’’

  ‘‘Are you ever going to have supper with us again?’’ He moved aside, but acted as if he hadn’t even heard her and his tone was so aggressive she nearly took a step back before she caught herself.

  ‘‘I don’t know,’’ she said cautiously. This angry man wasn’t a Derek with whom she was familiar. He was normally one of the most unflappable people she knew. Of course, half the time he walked around in a fog, thinking about something to do with the animals he treated, she thought tenderly. Then she squelched her mental wanderings. Derek was still standing there waiting for an answer. ‘‘Probably. Mollie’s birthday is coming up in a few months. I’ll make something special for her that night.’’

  ‘‘September! That’s three months away.’’ Both she and Mollie jumped when he bellowed. Mollie immediately started to cry, and the anger in his face turned to helpless concern as he rubbed her little back. ‘‘I’m sorry, Munchkin. I didn’t mean to scare you.’’

  ‘‘D-daddy, don’t yell at Kristin,’’ Mollie said. She still had tears in her eyes but the little treble voice was firm.

  Derek’s mouth dropped open. ‘‘She sounds just like you!’’ he said accusingly.

  Kristin knew that wasn’t a compliment but she wasn’t prepared for the hurt that sliced through her. Deb had been sweet and quiet and charming. If she’d ever raised her voice or issued an ultimatum, Kristin couldn’t remember it and she sincerely doubted Deb had ever defied Derek in their entire life together. She, Kristin, couldn’t be more different from Derek’s beloved wife.

  Leaning forward, she dropped a kiss on the little girl’s forehead. ‘‘See you tomorrow, honey,’’ she murmured. The action brought her far too close to Derek and she hastily pulled back and escaped before he could point out any more of her deficiencies.

  * * *

  Her phone rang just as she was getting out of the shower that evening. She wrapped a bath sheet around her and sprinted for her bedroom, where the closest handset was. ‘‘Hello?’’

  ‘‘We have to talk,’’ Derek said without preamble.

  ‘‘There isn’t anything to talk about.’’

  ‘‘You know that’s not true,’’ he said. ‘‘Kris, you can’t just cut yourself out of Mollie’s life so suddenly. She depends on you.’’

  ‘‘It’s not like I’m moving to California. I’ll be two miles away.’’

  ‘‘But she sees you almost every day.’’

  ‘‘All right.’’ She threw an exasperated hand into the air even though he couldn’t see her. ‘‘I’ll come by a couple days a week and have lunch with her after you get a new sitter.’’ She made an effort to soften her tone. ‘‘That way she won’t feel like I’m abandoning her.’’

  ‘‘I wish you wouldn’t do this.’’ His voice was soft and persuasive.

  She wavered, nearly succumbing to the plea. But then she recalled the way he’d refused to take her seriously yesterday. ‘‘I have to,’’ she said equally softly. ‘‘I need to start living my own life, Derek. And so do you.’’

  ‘‘What does that mean?’’ There was a note of suspicion in his tone now.

  She sighed. What could she say that would persuade him to stop trying to change her mind? ‘‘We spend far too much of our free time together.’’

  ‘‘So?’’

  ‘‘So we each need to learn to live alone.’’

  ‘‘Yesterday you wanted to marry me.’’

  ‘‘Yes,’’ she said steadily, ‘‘I did.’’ If he was trying to get her goat, he was succeeding. ‘‘But you made your position crystal-clear so I might as well accept it.’’

  ‘‘I think you’re punishing me for telling you no.’’

  ‘‘I am not!’’ she said indignantly. ‘‘I just think it’s time we all moved on. Deb’s been gone almost three years, and we’ve floated along in the same arrangement we had before she died. It can’t be good for any of us an
d if it isn’t going to be permanent, then we need to recognize that. I want a family of my own someday and no man is going to be interested in me as long as I’m so involved with you and Mollie.’’ Lordy, she hoped he didn’t take that statement at more than face value. She was already feeling humiliated enough without having him know that she had feelings for him.

  There was a heavy silence on the line and she held her breath. Derek could barely stand to have his wife’s name mentioned; how was he going to react to that statement?

  Then he sighed. ‘‘Maybe you’re right,’’ he said quietly. ‘‘It isn’t fair of me to monopolize you indefinitely. You’ve been so wonderful with Mollie that it was easy for me to forget you have your own life to live.’’

  ‘‘Thank you.’’ She had to work to keep her throat from closing up. This was a poor second-best option if she couldn’t have him. It was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do in her entire life. ‘‘I have to go. See you Monday.’’

  ‘‘Kris?’’ She loved the way he said her nickname. No one else had ever called her that.

  ‘‘Yes?’’

  ‘‘I don’t want to lose touch. Promise me you won’t dump us completely.’’

  She laughed, perilously close to tears again. ‘‘I’d never do that. You and Mollie are the only family I have.’’

  There was a small, warm silence.

  ‘‘’Night,’’ she said.

  ‘‘’Night.’’ His voice was affectionate.

  Slowly, she hung up the phone and sank down on the side of her bed, heedless of the damp towel, fighting back the sobs that tightened her chest.

  As she reached for a tissue, the phone rang again. She checked the caller ID, tempted to ignore it, but when she recognized the voice of the treasurer of the animal sanctuary’s board, she thought she’d better take it. The time was well past nine, not a usual time for him to be calling. She hoped there wasn’t a problem.

  Two

  She called Derek back moments later.

  ‘‘Kris,’’ he said patiently before she could get out a word, ‘‘I thought we’d finished this discussion.’’ Apparently he’d checked his caller ID as well.

  ‘‘Don’t be an ass. I’m calling about something else.’’ Her voice broke, ruining the sharp retort.

  ‘‘What’s wrong?’’ His voice changed instantly. ‘‘Are you all right?’’

  She took a deep breath, striving for calm. ‘‘Cathie Balisle was killed in a collision an hour ago.’’

  ‘‘What?’’ Derek was instantly diverted from their personal exchange. ‘‘What happened?’’

  Cathie Balisle was the executive director of the Appalachian Animal Sanctuary. Kristin’s father had hired her when he’d gotten a million-dollar bequest not long after the sanctuary had opened and she’d turned out to be a perfect choice for the job. ‘‘Drunk driver,’’ Kristin told him. ‘‘Rusty Sheffield just called. I told him I’d call you.’’

  ‘‘Man, that’s bad news.’’ She could picture him running a hand through his hair like he always did when he was agitated, ruffling the dark waves into disordered spikes. ‘‘I can’t believe it.’’

  ‘‘I know.’’ Her throat felt too tight to speak. Although they hadn’t been close on a personal basis, Cathie and she had worked on AAS projects together many times, and Cathie had been her father’s choice to head the sanctuary. ‘‘All that energy and drive, just—just gone.’’

  Derek exhaled heavily. ‘‘What’s the board going to do?’’

  ‘‘I doubt anyone’s even thought about that yet,’’ she said, ‘‘but I imagine we’ll advertise immediately. Interview and hire as fast as we possibly can.’’ The sanctuary was a large facility with a big budget and constant management issues. They couldn’t afford to be without an executive director.

  ‘‘Let me know as soon as you hear when the funeral is. We’ll get a sitter for Mollie so we both can go.’’ Derek’s deep voice was compassionate.

  Wryly, she noted that he apparently had forgotten what she’d said about separating their lives, but she didn’t have the energy to battle with him right now. ‘‘Okay.’’

  ‘‘Thanks for calling. Keep me posted.’’ Derek had taken Paul Gordon’s seat on the board until Kristin had finished college and had time to fill the vacancy. Although he was no longer directly involved in that end of things he still liked to keep abreast of the sanctuary’s agenda.

  The following day, Kristin learned that Cathie’s funeral was scheduled for two days later at eleven in the morning.

  When she called to tell him, Derek said, ‘‘I’ll close the clinic for a few hours. Sandy says she’ll come over to the house and watch Mollie while we’re gone.’’

  ‘‘Tell her thank you,’’ Kristin offered.

  ‘‘I’ll just bring her over when I pick you up at ten-thirty.’’

  She hesitated, thinking of her new resolve. ‘‘That’s not necessary.’’

  He was silent for a moment. ‘‘This isn’t the time for prickly independence, Kris,’’ he said quietly. ‘‘We do this kind of stuff together.’’

  Funerals, he meant. As they’d done first her father’s, and then his wife’s. Together. Suddenly, it occurred to her that the funeral of a young woman might be difficult for him. ‘‘All right,’’ she said, her heart aching for him.

  Kristin hadn’t stayed for dinner any night since she’d issued that ultimatum. Despite that, Derek was all too aware that she still made sure there was a hot meal waiting for Mollie and him at the end of the day when he came home.

  He used to look forward to getting home, to having Mollie run into his arms while he and Kristin traded smiles as she babbled about her day. To sitting on the stool in the kitchen with Mollie on his lap while he told Kris about his day, to her reactions to everything from animals he’d been unable to save to owners who thought he was crazy to bill them for certain services. This week, he’d been called out of bed in the middle of the night to try to save a dog who’d been hit by a car while running loose. The dog died, and the owners couldn’t understand why he billed them. He’d had to take Mollie to the spare bedroom at the clinic until Kristin arrived to get her. Then he’d had to call his surgical technician to come in, and they had worked for three hours and administered several bags of IV fluids before the dog finally succumbed to shock.

  But Kristin hadn’t heard that story, because she hadn’t stuck around to talk since Tuesday. Dinner was on the table when he arrived and she was out the door before he even had his coat off. He’d eaten alone with Mollie—which wasn’t a bad thing, he hastened to assure himself. It was just that he’d gotten used to the adult companionship.

  And if he was honest, he missed her. He was actually looking forward to Cathie’s funeral today because he would have some time to talk to Kris.

  But when he picked her up for the funeral, she was unusually quiet. Despite the warmth of the early June morning, she was wearing a black pantsuit with a matching jacket and her oval face was unreadable. This was probably hitting her hard. Cathie had known Kris’s dad, in a way had been one of the few remaining links to her past.

  He held the car door for her and then went around to his own seat. As they drove toward the funeral home, she was still quiet.

  ‘‘How was your morning?’’ he asked.

  That elicited a brief smile. ‘‘Fine. I took Mollie to play with the Mothers of Preschoolers group at the Methodist church. She’s in love with Jethrup Sowers’s little boy. They walked around holding hands the whole time.’’

  He chuckled. ‘‘Sounds like more fun than mine. Three overweight, geriatric dachshunds whose owner doesn’t understand why they’re having back trouble, a macaw who’s plucking her own feathers and a Yorkie with a broken leg.’’

  ‘‘How did it get broken?’’

  ‘‘Stepped on.’’

  Silence.

  Derek felt like a fidgety fourth-grader again as he braked for a red light. ‘‘Has the board spoken at all about hiring s
omeone to—to replace Cathie?’’ He felt crass, voicing the thought aloud but Cathie had loved the sanctuary and he knew she’d be concerned if she were in their position.

  ‘‘No. Not yet.’’ Kris was gazing out the window. Her hands lay limply in her lap and without thinking he reached over and put one of his atop them.

  The moment he touched her he knew it was a mistake. Dammit! All these years they’d been friends, and ever since she’d said what she’d said, he’d been more aware of her physically than he had any woman since…since he was young. Her hands were warm, her skin silky, and he resisted the fierce urge to smooth his thumb across the tender flesh. If her hands were that silky—cut it out, Derek.

  Kris hadn’t moved a muscle since he’d touched her. Now, she looked down at her lap, where his much larger hand easily covered both her dainty ones. His fingers actually curled around and under hers and he could feel the give of her thigh, soft and very warm, beneath the backs of his fingers.

  She lifted her head and looked at him and he felt as if he’d been hit in the stomach, breathless, gasping for air. Her eyes were as green as emeralds sparkling in sunshine, soft and vulnerable, and a bolt of intense sexual attraction shot through him with the unexpected ferocity of a clap of summer thunder.

  ‘‘Stop it,’’ he said harshly, barely aware of the words. He pulled his hand away as if touching her would blister his skin.

  Her eyebrows rose in bewilderment. ‘‘Stop what?’’

  ‘‘Stop teasing me.’’ The instant he said it, he knew it was unfair, but he was too stirred up to retreat. In some weird way, he wanted to have a rip-roaring fight with her.

  ‘‘Teasing you?’’ She repeated the words as if they were in a foreign language. Then he saw fire kindle in her eyes. ‘‘Teasing you! I was doing nothing of the kind.’’ She sucked in a breath of outrage. ‘‘You were the one who touched me!’’