After the triplets had woken up, she’d gotten them into the stroller and moseyed on down to the Pie Diner with her six contributions. She’d been unable to keep her secret and had told her mother and aunt everything, trying to not be overheard by their part-time cook and the two waitresses coming in and out. She’d explained it all and she could see on her sister’s face how relieved Shelby was at not having to keep her super-juicy family secret anymore.
“That Annie!” Aunt Cheyenne had said with a wink. “Always looking out for us.”
Arlena Ingalls had had the same evil smile. “Handsome?”
“Mom!” Norah had said. “He’s a stranger!”
“He’s hardly that now,” her mother had pointed out, glancing at an order ticket and placing two big slices of quiche Lorraine on a waitress’s tray.
Aunt Cheyenne had laughed. “I have to hand it to you. We send you to the carnival for your first night out in seven months and you come home married. And to the town’s new detective. I, for one, am very impressed.”
After talk had turned to who had possibly spiked the punch, Norah, exasperated, had left. Her mother had offered to watch the triplets this morning so that Norah could get her life straightened out and back together. “If you absolutely have to,” her mother had added.
Humph, Norah thought now, watching Reed get out of his dark blue SUV. As if marriage was the be-all and end-all. As if a good man was a savior. They didn’t even know if Reed was a good man.
But she did, dammit. That had been obvious from the get-go, from the moment he’d stuffed that hundred in the till box to pay what he’d thought was fair for swiping all the punch to picking her up and taking her into the chapel to fulfill her dream of getting married there. He was a good man when bombed out of his ever-loving mind. He was a good man stone-cold sober, who played upsie-downsie with babies, making sure each got their turn. He’d fixed her broken cabinet.
And damn, he really was something to look at. His thick, dark hair shone in the morning sun. He wore charcoal-colored pants, a gray button-down shirt and black shoes. He looked like a city detective.
In the bathtub, as she’d lain there soaking, and all last night in bed, in between trips to the nursery to see why one triplet or another was crying or shrieking, she’d thought about Reed Barelli and how he’d looked in those boxer briefs. She was pretty sure they hadn’t had sex. She would remember, wouldn’t she? Tidbits of the experience, at least. There was no way that man, so good-looking and sexy, had run his hands and mouth all over her and she hadn’t remembered a whit of it.
Anyway, their union would be no more in about a half hour. It was fun to fantasize about what they might have done Saturday night, but only because it was just that—fantasy. And Reed would be out of her life very soon, just someone she’d say hi to in the coffee shop or grocery store. Maybe they’d even chuckle at the crazy time they’d up and gotten married by accident.
She waited for the doorbell to ring, but it didn’t. Reed wouldn’t be one to wait in the car and honk, so she peered out the window. He stood on the doorstep, typing something into his phone. Girlfriend, maybe. The man had to be involved with someone. He’d probably been explaining himself from the moment he’d left Norah’s house this morning. Poor guy.
Her mom had already come to pick up the babies, so she was ready to go. She wore a casual cotton skirt and top for the occasion of getting back their marriage license, but in the back of her mind she was well aware she’d dolled up a little for the handsome cop. A little mascara, a slick of lip gloss, a tiny dab of subtle perfume behind her ears.
Which was all ridiculous, considering she was spending her morning undoing her ties to the man!
A text buzzed on her phone.
Not sure if the cuties are sleeping, so didn’t want to ring the doorbell.
Huh. He hadn’t been texting a girlfriend; he’d been texting her. Maybe there was no girlfriend.
She glanced at the text again. The warmth that spread across her heart, her midsection, made her smile. The cutes. An un-rung doorbell so as not to disturb the triplets. If she needed more proof that Reed Barelli was top-notch, she’d gotten it.
She took a breath and opened the door. Why did he have to be so good-looking? She could barely peel her eyes off him. “Morning,” she said. “My mom has the triplets, so we’re good to go.”
“I got us coffee and muffins,” he said, holding up a bag from Java Joe’s. “Light, no sugar, right? That’s how you took your coffee yesterday.”
She smiled. “You don’t miss much, I’ve been noticing.”
“Plight of the detective. Once we see it, it’s imprinted.”
“What kind of muffins?” she asked, trying not to stare at his face.
“I took you for a cranberry-and-orange type,” he said, opening the passenger door for her.
She smiled. “Sounds good.” She slid inside his SUV. Clean as could be. Two coffees sat in the center console, one marked R, along with a smattering of change and some pens in one of the compartments.
“And I also got four other kinds of muffins in case you hate cranberry and orange,” he said, handing her the cup that wasn’t marked regular.
Of course he had, she thought, her heart pinging. She kept her eyes straight ahead as he rounded the hood and got inside. When he closed his door, she was ridiculously aware of how close he was.
“Thanks,” she said, touched by his thoughtfulness.
“So, it’s a half hour to the courthouse, we’ll get back our license and that’s that.” He started the SUV and glanced at her.
She held his gaze for a moment before sipping her coffee to have something to do that didn’t involve looking at him.
Would be nice to keep the fantasy going a little longer, she thought. That we’re married, a family, my mom is babysitting while we go off to the county seat to...admire the architecture, have brunch in a fancy place. Once upon a time, this was all she’d wanted. To find her life’s partner, to build a life with a great guy, have children, have a family. But everything had gotten turned on its head. Now she barely trusted herself, let alone anyone she wasn’t related to.
Ha, maybe that was why she seemed to trust Reed. He was related to her. For the next half hour, anyway.
By the time they arrived at the courthouse, a beautiful white historic building, she’d finished her coffee and had half a cranberry-and-orange muffin and a few bites of the cinnamon chip. Reed was around to open her door for her before she could even reach for the handle. “Well, this is it—literally and figuratively.”
“This is it,” she repeated, glancing at him. He held her gaze for a moment and she knew he had to be thinking, Thank God. We’re finally here. Let’s get this marriage license ripped up!
They headed inside. The bronze mail slot on the side of the door loomed large. She could just imagine sneaky, old Abe Potterowski racing over and shoving all the licenses in. As they entered through the revolving door, Norah glanced at the area under the mail slot. Just an empty mail bucket was there.
Empty. Of course it was. Every step of this crazy process was going to be difficult.
After getting directions to the office that handled marriage licenses, they took the elevator to the third floor.
Maura Hotchner, County Clerk was imprinted on a plaque to the left of the doorway to Office 310. They went in and Norah smiled at the woman behind the desk.
“Ms. Hotchner, my name is Norah—”
“Good morning!” the woman said with a warm smile. “Ms. Hotchner began her maternity leave today. I’m Ellen Wheeler, temporary county clerk and Ms. Hotchner’s assistant. How may I help you?”
Norah explained that she was looking for her marriage license and wanted it back before it could be processed.
“Oh dear,” Ellen Wheeler said. “Being my first day and all taking over this job, I got here extra early and pro
cessed all the marriage licenses deposited into the mail slot over the weekend. Do you believe there were seventeen from Wedlock Creek alone? I’ve already put the official decrees for all those in the mail.”
Norah’s heart started racing. “Do you mean to tell me that my marriage to this man is legally binding?”
The county clerk looked from Norah to Reed, gave him a “my, you’re a handsome one” smile, then looked back at Norah. “Yes, ma’am. It’s on the books now. You’re legally wed.”
Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. This can’t be happening.
She glanced at Reed, whose face had paled. “Can’t you just erase everything and find our decree and rip it up? Can you just undo it all? I mean, you just processed it—what?—fifteen minutes ago, right? That’s what the delete key is for!”
The woman seemed horrified by the suggestion. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but I most certainly cannot just ‘erase’ what is legally binding. The paperwork has been processed. You’re officially married.”
Facepalm. “Is this the correct office to get annulment forms?” Norah asked. At least she wouldn’t walk out of there empty-handed. She would get the ball rolling to undo this...crazy mistake.
Ellen’s face went blank as she stared from Norah to Reed to their wedding rings and then back at Norah. “I have them right here.”
Norah clutched the papers and hurried away. She could barely get to the bench by the elevators without collapsing.
Reed put his hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right? Can I get you some water?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “No, I’ll be fine. I just can’t believe this. We’re married!”
“So we are,” he said, sitting beside her. “We’ll fill out the annulment paperwork and I’m sure it won’t take long to resolve this.”
She glanced at the instruction form attached to the form. “Grounds for annulment include insanity. That’s us, all right.”
He laughed and held her gaze for a moment, then shoved his hands into his pockets and looked away.
“I guess I’ll fill this out and then give it to you to sign?” she said, flipping through the few pages. She hated important forms with their tiny boxes. She let out a sigh.
He nodded and reached out his hand. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
For a split second she was back in her fantasy of him being her husband and having an actual home to go to that wasn’t falling down around her with sloping floors and a haunted refrigerator. She took his hand and never wanted to let go.
She really was insane. She had to be. What the hell was going on with her? It’s like she had a wild crush on this man.
Her husband!
* * *
As Reed turned onto the road for Wedlock Creek, he could just make out the old black weather vane on top of his grandmother’s barn in the distance. The house wasn’t in view; it was a few miles out from here, but that weather vane, with its arrows and mother and baby buffalo, had always been a landmark when that old green car would get to this point for his stay at his grandmother’s.
“See that weather vane?” he said, pointing.
Norah bent over a bit. “Oh yes, I do see it now.”
“That’s my grandmother’s barn. When I was a kid heading up here from our house, I’d see that weather vane and all would be right in the world.”
“I’d love to see the property,” she said. “Can we stop?”
He’d driven over twice Saturday morning, right after he’d arrived in Wedlock Creek, but he’d stayed in the car. He loved the old ranch house and the land, and he’d keep it up, but it was never going to be his, so he hadn’t wanted to rub the place in his own face. Though, technically, until his marriage was annulled, it was his. His grandmother must be mighty happy right now at his situation. He could see her thinking he’d finally settle down just to be able to have the ranch, then magically fall madly in love with his wife and be happy forever. Right.
He pulled onto the gravel road leading to the ranch and, as always, as the two-story, white farmhouse came into view, his heart lurched. Home.
God, he loved this place. For some of his childhood, when his grandfather had been alive, he’d stayed only a week, which was as long as the grouchy old coot could bear to have him around. But when he’d passed, his grandmother had him stay eight weeks, almost the whole summer. A bunch of times his grandmother had told his mother she and Reed could move in, but his mother had been proud and living with her former mother-in-law had never felt right.
Norah gasped. “What a beautiful house. I love these farmhouses. So much character. And that gorgeous red door and the black shutters...”
He watched her take in the red barn just to the left of the house, which was more like a garage than a place for horses or livestock. Then her gaze moved to the acreage, fields of pasture with shade trees and open land. A person could think out here, dream out here, be out here.
“I’d love to see inside,” she said.
He supposed it was all right. He did have a key, after all. Always had. And he was married, so the property was out of its three-month limbo, since he’d fulfilled the terms of the will.
He led the way three steps up to the wide porch that wrapped around the side of the house. How many chocolate milks had he drunk, how many stories had his grandmother told him on this porch, on those two rocking chairs with the faded blue cushions?
The moment he stepped inside, a certain peace came over him. Home. Where he belonged. Where he wanted to be.
The opposite of how he’d felt about the small house he’d rented near the police department. Sterile. Meh. Then again, he’d had the place only two days and hadn’t even slept there Saturday night. His furniture from his condo in Cheyenne fit awkwardly, nothing quite looking right no matter where he moved the sofa or the big-screen TV.
“Oh, Reed, this place is fantastic,” Norah said, looking all around. She headed into the big living room with its huge stone fireplace, the wall of windows facing the fields and huge trees and woods beyond.
His grandmother had had classic taste, so even the furniture felt right to him. Brown leather sofas, club chairs, big Persian rugs. She’d liked to paint and her work was hung around the house, including ones of him as a boy and a teenager.
“You sure were a cute kid,” Norah said, looking at the one of him as a nine-year-old. “And I’m surprised I never ran into you during your summers here. I would have had the biggest crush on that guy,” she added, pointing at the watercolor of him at sixteen.
He smiled. “My grandmother didn’t love town or people all that much. When I visited, she’d make a ton of food and we’d explore the woods and go fishing in the river just off her land.”
The big, country kitchen with its white cabinets and bay window with the breakfast nook was visible, so she walked inside and he followed. He could tell she loved the house and he couldn’t contain his pride as he showed her the family room with the sliders out to a deck facing a big backyard, then the four bedrooms upstairs. The master suite was a bit feminine for his taste with its flowered rose quilt, but the bathroom was something—spa tub with jets, huge shower, the works. Over the years he’d updated the house as presents for his grandmother, happy to see her so delighted.
“I can see how much this place means to you,” Norah said as they headed back downstairs into the living room. “Did it bother you that your grandmother wrote her will the way she did? That you had to marry to inherit it?”
“I didn’t like it, but I understood what she was trying to do. On her deathbed, she told me she knew me better than I knew myself, that I did need a wife and children and this lone-wolf-cop nonsense wouldn’t make me happy.”
Maybe your heart will get broken again, but loss is part of life, Lydia Barelli had added. You don’t risk, you don’t get.
Broken again. Why had he ever told his grandmother that he’d tried and wh
ere had it gotten him? Those final days of his grandmother’s life, he hadn’t been in the mood to talk any more about the one woman he’d actually tried to be serious about. He’d been thinking about proposing, trying to force himself out of his old, negative feelings, when the woman he’d been seeing for almost a year told him she’d fallen for a rich lawyer—sorry. He hadn’t let himself fall for anyone since, and that was over five years ago. Between that and what he’d witnessed about marriage growing up? Count him out.
Reed hadn’t wanted to disappoint his beloved grandmother and had told her, “Who knows what the future holds?” He couldn’t outright lie and say he was sure he’d change his mind about marriage. But he wouldn’t let his grandmother go on thinking no one on this earth would ever love him. She wouldn’t have been able to abide that.
“Have you been happy?” Norah asked, glancing at him, then away as if to give him some privacy.
He shrugged. “Happy enough. My work was my life and it sustained me a long time. But when I lost the only family I had, someone very special to me, I’ll tell you, I felt it.”
“It?” she repeated.
“Loss of...connection, I guess.”
She nodded. “I felt that way when my dad died, and I had my mother, aunt and sister crying with me. I can’t imagine how alone you must have felt.”
He turned away, looking out the window. “Well, we should get going. I have to report to the department for my orientation at noon. Then it’s full-time tomorrow.”
“Thanks for showing me the house. I almost don’t want to leave. It’s so...welcoming.”
He glanced around and breathed in the place. They had to leave. He had to leave. Because this house was never going to be his. And being there hurt like hell.
Chapter Five
Reed sat in his office in the Wedlock Creek Police Department, appreciating the fact that he had an office, even if it was small, with a window facing Main Street, so he could see the hustle and bustle of downtown. The two-mile-long street was full of shops and restaurants and businesses. The Pie Diner was just visible across the street if he craned his neck, which he found himself doing every now and again for a possible sighting of Norah.
Detective Barelli's Legendary Triplets Page 5
