Ready for Marriage?

by Beverly Barton; Ann Major Anne Marie Winston

  “I want to go with you to find Mary Kate,” he told her.

  She stared at him, an incredulous expression on her face. “You want to…are you telling me that you now believe there’s a good chance our daughter is still alive?”

  “I don’t know what I believe,” he admitted. All he knew was that he didn’t want Kate to go through this alone. But he could hardly tell her that. She might read more into a statement like that than he intended. “We can be civil to each other, can’t we? We can do this together as Mary Kate’s parents and not as…” Trent shuffled his feet. “There’s no need for us to hurt each other any more than we already have.”

  “I agree.” As if suddenly realizing she’d been staring at him, Kate cleared her throat, glanced away and then said, “Meet me here in the morning at eight o’clock. If we can take your car, I’ll turn my rental in and we can ride to Memphis together.”

  He nodded, then turned to leave. Sensing her watching him, he glanced over his shoulder. She stood in the doorway, temptation personified. Spending days, perhaps weeks with her was going to be pure torture for him. “Thanks, Kate,” he said before walking away hurriedly, knowing that if he’d stayed another minute, he would have pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

  Three

  Kate hadn’t slept much and felt the effects of a restless night. Knowing she needed some fortification to be at her best this morning, she’d eaten a substantial breakfast and downed three cups of regular coffee at the Prospect Café. When she paid the bill and left, she breathed a sigh of relief. Lucky for her, no one had recognized her. Apparently the local gossip mill hadn’t processed the news that Trent Winston’s ex-wife was in town. The café was a block from the hotel, so she’d walked the distance, despite the frigid temperature. The clouds that had falsely predicted a cold rain late yesterday had dissipated overnight and today promised to be sunny. The early morning sun shining brightly did little to warm things up. When she stepped out of the café, Kate slipped-on her red leather gloves and tightened the red wool scarf around her neck.

  As she approached the Magnolia House, she checked her watch. It was 7:53 a.m. Would Trent show up? Of course he would. If he hadn’t already been certain of what he planned to do, he’d never have come to see her last night. While she’d tossed and turned during the long, seemingly endless night, she had been unable to turn off her mind, to stop a hundred and one thoughts from bombarding her. Memories of the past mixed and mingled with the present and unrealistic dreams for the future. If dreams came true, what would she want? She’d want to be a mother to Mary Kate. That was a given. But what about being a wife to Trent? Perhaps, in the deepest recesses of her heart, that dream existed.

  Dreams were well and good. In their place. But she had to face reality. The odds were against her. Even if they found Mary Kate, Trent was right—it was too late to be the child’s parents. Could she accept that fact? She really had no other choice. She had to accept the hard, cold facts in order to protect her daughter. One thing she knew for certain—the only thing that mattered was Mary Kate.

  A late-model black Bentley pulled up at the front of the Magnolia House just as Kate crossed the street. She instantly recognized the driver. Right on time. Actually a few minutes early. Trent emerged from the car, looked in her direction and threw up his hand. She waved back at him, but forced herself not to increase her pace. She had run to him, into his open arms, countless times in the past, always striving to please him. But no longer. She wasn’t the girl she’d once been. Time and circumstances had changed her dramatically.

  When she drew closer, Trent came toward her, and they both stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. She offered him a cordial, halfhearted smile. “I’ve already checked out and put my bag in the rental car,” she told him. “If you’ll follow me to—”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Trent said. “Guthrie will take care of your rental car later. We’ll leave the keys with the clerk at the hotel.” He cupped her elbow. “Why don’t you give me the keys and I’ll get your bag and give the keys to the clerk? You can wait here for me.” He opened the front passenger door of his car.

  Mr. Take-charge. Trent’s trademark. During their brief marriage, he’d made all the decisions and she’d allowed him to, with very little protest. Do not pick a fight with Trent first thing. Choose your battles. This issue is not worth arguing about and you know it.

  She unzipped her leather purse, retrieved the car keys and handed them to Trent. “Thanks.” Avoiding direct eye contact with him, she got in the Bentley and closed the door.

  The car had a luxurious feel. Real tan leather and real wood. It seemed odd that Trent, who loved his sports cars dearly, would be driving this sedate sedan. This was a family car, not a bachelor’s wheels. Maybe this was Aunt Mary Belle’s car. No, probably not. She doubted that his aunt was driving these days, not after her stroke. Besides, she’d always preferred to be chauffeured around by Guthrie.

  A few minutes later, Trent returned, opened the trunk and placed her suitcase inside, then he got into the Bentley and glanced at Kate. “Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’ve had breakfast?” he asked.

  “Yes. At the Prospect Café.”

  “Then we’re set until lunchtime.” He inserted the key and started the engine. “Do you have a route preference?” he asked. “It’s close to an eight-hour trip whether we go through Tupelo or Decatur.”

  She laughed spontaneously, surprised that he’d asked her opinion. The man was certainly a contradiction these days. Part old Trent, part new Trent.

  He eyed her quizzically.

  “You’re driving,” she said. “You choose.”

  He nodded, then pulled the Bentley into the flow of the sparse morning traffic. “If at anytime during the next few days—or however long this takes—I become overbearing and insufferable, feel free to hit me between the eyes with a two-by-four.”

  Kate smiled. At least this new Trent had retained the old Trent’s sense of humor. “I’ll keep that in mind. And don’t be surprised if I do as you suggested. You see, I’m not the easily manipulated, naive, love-sick fool I was when we got married.”

  “You might have been naive and in love, but you were never a fool.” Trent kept his gaze focused on the road. “And as I recall there were times when neither I nor Aunt Mary Belle could bring you around to our way of thinking.”

  Kate’s smile vanished as she remembered how tragically her Easter Sunday rebellion nearly twelve years ago had ended.

  “Don’t go there,” he told her. “I was not referring to that Easter Sunday. I seem to recall more than one occasion when you balked at being bossed around.”

  “I’m sure you and I remember the past differently.”

  “Some things, perhaps, but…”

  “But what?”

  “Nothing. I think we’re better off not discussing the past. We’re less likely to argue if we stick to the present. Don’t you agree?”

  “If that’s what you want. Believe me, dredging up the past isn’t something I enjoy.”

  While he kept his gaze focused directly ahead and both of them stayed quiet, Kate studied Trent. He was remarkably handsome. He came close to being a pretty boy, but wasn’t. Not quite. His nose was a little too prominent, his mouth a little too wide. Age had given him an air of distinction, the kind old money and privilege could give a man approaching forty.

  “How long have you been a circuit court judge?” she asked, breaking the silence.

  “Five years.”

  “Do you like being a judge?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Wasn’t it a problem for you to take time off from work to come with me?”

  “I arranged for another judge to take my cases for the time being. I consider this a family emergency.” Trent cast her a sidelong glance. “What about you? Can you afford to take time off from work? If not, I can help you financially.”

  “Don’t do me any favors.” The words were out of
her mouth before she realized it. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. Looks like I’m still sensitive about money issues. Your aunt Mary Belle often intimated that I’d married you for your money.”

  “She knows better,” Trent said. “She knew better at the time. Any idiot could see how much in love we were. It wasn’t a one-sided thing and everyone knew it. Even Aunt Mary Belle.”

  A zinging warmth spread quickly through Kate. Hearing Trent say in such a matter-of-fact way that he’d been so very much in love affected her deeply. She had believed he loved her—up until the day Mary Kate was abducted. From that time on, he’d given her numerous reasons to doubt his love.

  “I don’t need any financial help, but thank you for offering.”

  “Then your job as an investigator pays well?”

  “Yes, it pays very well.”

  Silence.

  Kate’s heartbeat drummed softly in her ears. The well-insulated Bentley kept the outside noises to a minimum. How was it that this man she had once loved beyond all reason, who’d been her husband, her lover and her friend, now seemed like a stranger? Because that’s what he is, she reminded herself. Just as I’m a stranger to him. I’m no more the same person I was than he is. Losing not only Mary Kate, but each other, both Trent and she had come through the ordeal with numerous battle scars. And in the years in between, they’d gone their separate ways and built new lives.

  “You use your maiden name. Does that mean you haven’t married again?” Trent said.

  “No, I…no, I haven’t remarried.”

  “You should have married again, Kate, and had other children.”

  “It’s not too late,” she told him. “I still could. But what about you? I halfway expected to find you married and…” She cleared her throat. “I heard you were the man about town and it was the lady voters who got you elected to the judgeship.”

  Trent chuckled. “You listened to local gossip while you were in town.”

  “Only to Mr. Walding, the clerk at the Magnolia House.”

  “Did he mention my dating a lady named Molly Stoddard?”

  Tension tightened Kate’s muscles. “No, he didn’t.”

  “Molly is a widow with two children. We’ve been dating for about a year. Steadily these past three months.”

  “Then it’s a serious relationship?” Kate asked, although she already knew it was; otherwise he’d have never mentioned the woman.

  “It’s been heading that way.” Trent gripped the steering wheel with white-knuckled strength. “What about you? Anyone special in your life?”

  “Hmm.” No, there’s no one special, but I wish there was. She didn’t want him to think she’d been pining away for him all these years. “As a matter of fact, I’ve been seeing a great deal of another Dundee agent. We’re very close” Damn, Kate, that’s it—just lie to the man. But she wasn’t really lying. She and Lucie Evans did see a great deal of each other. They were close—the best of friends. Girlfriends, that is. There was nothing romantic in their relationship.

  “I’m glad you have someone. Are you and—what did you say his name was?”

  “His name? Uh, er, Evans. Lu-Luke Evans.” Now you’ve really lied and you can’t deny it, she told herself. There is no Luke Evans!

  “Are you and Luke planning on getting married?”

  “No, marriage isn’t in our immediate plans.” That much was true—neither she nor Lucie had any wedding plans. As a matter of fact neither of them were even dating anybody seriously.

  “I’ve been thinking about asking Molly to marry me.”

  “What?” She hadn’t meant to react by practically screaming her response, but his statement had surprised her. No, it had more than surprised her. It had struck a nerve. Even after being divorced for over ten years, she supposed she still thought of Trent as her husband. “I’m happy for you and…I wish you the very best.”

  “I haven’t asked her, yet. I’ve just been thinking about it. But I’m not getting any younger. I’m going on forty. And Molly’s a wonderful person and I adore her kids.”

  Molly was wonderful. He adored her kids. Was that any reason to marry a person? Once she wouldn’t have thought so. Now, she wasn’t sure. Maybe the second time around, a person should look for something other than mad, passionate love. Maybe that’s what she should do. Find a wonderful man and settle for contentment instead of passion.

  Get real, Kate, you’d never settle for anything less than being in love and you know it.

  “Did you tell Molly that you were leaving town with your ex-wife?” Kate asked.

  “Yes, of course. I phoned her last night and explained the situation. She was very understanding. That’s the way Molly is. Understanding and kind and—”

  “Do you love her?” Oh, God, why had she asked him that?

  Silence.

  “Okay, don’t answer,” Kate said. “It’s none of my business. Sorry I asked.”

  A long silence followed, then minutes later, Trent spoke. “Do you love Luke?”

  “Ah…yes, I do.” At least that wasn’t a lie. Not entirely. Since there was no Luke, her reply was a half-lie. She did love Lucie, like a sister. That was the truth.

  Trent chuckled nervously. “How did we ever get on the subject of love? It’s an odd topic for us to be discussing, all things considered.”

  “I’ll choose a safer topic,” she said. “How is Aunt—Miss Mary Belle doing since she had a stroke last year?”

  “Better than anyone, including the doctors, predicted she would. She’s a stubborn, determined woman. Luckily, her mind wasn’t affected, just her body. She couldn’t walk or use her left arm for days afterward, but with intense physical therapy she came around. She worked like the devil, pushed herself hard to recover.”

  “She looked well.”

  “You noticed the cane, of course. That’s probably permanent.”

  “She seemed very much the same and yet different somehow. The minute she entered my hotel room, she corrected me because I’d been less than mannerly when I invited her in.”

  Trent grinned. “That’s just who she is, and who she was raised to be. You never understood that for Aunt Mary Belle there is nothing more important than good manners.”

  “Oh, I understood all right. Good manners was—is—a religion to her.”

  “You said you noticed a change in Aunt Mary Belle.” As Trent turned north on US Highway 82, he hazarded a quick glance at Kate. “What sort of change?”

  “I don’t know exactly. It was just that she said something odd.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She said she was capable of admitting when she was wrong and that she’d been wrong about me.”

  Trent glanced at Kate and smiled. “She said that, did she?”

  “Yes, she did. What did she mean?”

  “Why didn’t you ask her?”

  “I think I was too stunned to hear Mary Belle Winston admit she could be wrong about anything.”

  “She was never as bad as you thought she was,” Trent said, and before Kate could respond, he added, “And never as blameless as I thought she was.”

  Kate sat there quietly, absorbing Trent’s words, letting them play over in her mind. He was right. Mary Belle wasn’t the monster Kate had thought her to be. If only Trent had been able to realize, years ago, how his aunt had manipulated him, how she’d made Kate feel unworthy of being his wife. Hindsight is, as they say, twenty-twenty. For everyone. For her. For Trent. And maybe for Aunt Mary Belle, too.

  “I suppose there’s more than enough blame to go around, isn’t there?” Instinctively Kate reached out to touch Trent’s arm in a gesture of comfort, but stopped when she realized what she’d been about to do. Physical contact between them was a bad idea. She had to keep things cordial, but not too friendly. She and Trent could never be just friends, even if they both wanted it that way. They could be Mary Kate’s parents. Nothing more.

  “What happened to Mary Kate wasn’t your fault,” Trent said.
>
  “I know that now.” But it would have been nice to have heard her husband tell her that right after their child was taken from them. Instead, every time he had looked at her in the days and weeks following their baby’s abduction, there had been accusation in his eyes. And when Aunt Mary Belle had come right out and said, “If only you hadn’t stormed off on your own the way you did, this wouldn’t have happened,” Trent had remained silent, hadn’t uttered one word in his wife’s defense.

  A heavy silence hung between them. Kate assumed Trent was lost in the past, as she was, reliving painful memories.

  Nearly an hour later, Trent broke the silence. “Do you want to stop for an early lunch in Birmingham or would your rather stop somewhere between Birmingham and Tupelo?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she replied. “I could wait until we get to Memphis. I ate a big breakfast.”

  He wondered how many times Kate missed meals. She looked a little underweight to him, but not as thin and unhealthy as she’d looked the last time he saw her. After their daughter’s kidnapping, Kate had stopped eating, stopped sleeping, stopped living.

  “We’ll stop and get a bite along the way,” he said. “Maybe we’ll run across an old-fashioned burger joint somewhere. Do you still love greasy cheeseburgers with the works?” He remembered how on their first date, she had attacked a huge cheeseburger—with onions—and eaten every bite. She was the first girl he’d dated who wasn’t on a diet. He’d liked that about her—that she had a passion for life.

  “Oh, yes, I still love cheeseburgers smothered in onions.” She smiled at him. “Some things don’t change.”

  Her thousand-watt smile had always turned him inside out—that sure hadn’t changed. The basic male animal in him wanted to pull the Bentley off to the side of the road, undo their seat belts and drag Kate into his arms. The powerful physical attraction that had overwhelmed them when they first met, when he’d helped a damsel in distress, was still as potent as ever. He wanted her now, as he’d wanted her then; but he didn’t dare act on instinct. He had no rights where Kate was concerned. He’d let her go over ten years ago and now she had a new life and a new love.