Going to the Chapel

by Debra Webb

  Still reeling from the morning’s harrowing experiences as well as the previous night’s life-altering event, Caroline slowly surveyed the lovely old house nestled against the backdrop of trees. An all too familiar sense of home settled over her. Treasured moments from the past flooded her consciousness. Words and deeds meant to last a lifetime, but somehow falling short, whispered through her mind.

  Everything looked the same, as if nothing had changed. Only her heart...her trust...her whole life...

  She couldn’t do this.

  “I can’t do this,” she heard herself say, her voice uncertain. She shook her head. This house had been like a second home to her. She had been in love with Chase Garrett since she was twelve years old. His brother Slade, and Caroline’s best friend, had been the first to tell Chase after she confided in him.

  “This is insane.”

  Beside her, Chase heaved a breath. “Look, I don’t like this any more than you do.” His voice was tight, his words forced. “But arguing with Henri is useless. She’s not going to have it any other way. Besides, there isn’t a hotel for at least forty miles in any direction. We’ll just have to deal with it until you’re out of here.”

  Anger slammed into Caroline, driven by his sharply spoken words. She turned to face him and feigned an accommodating smile. “Well, don’t worry, Chase. I’ll be sure to stay out of your way. And Monday won’t come soon enough to suit me.”

  Those blue eyes blazed with a barely checked rage of their own. “Knowing you, you’ll probably take off before Monday.” A muscle jumped in his handsome jaw.

  Dumbstruck with equal measures rage and dismay, Caroline could only watch as he hopped out of the Jeep. In her peripheral vision she watched him reach into the back and grab her suitcase. Seething, she resolved to find some way out of this mess. Did any of her old friends still live here? There had to be someone she could call.

  Mr. Hadley, the gentleman who took care of her grandmother’s yard, would know. After all, he was the one who told her about Chase’s divorce less than one year after his marriage. Caroline had pretended not to care at the time, but she had. Later that same year Mr. Hadley had been the one to inform her that Chase’s parents had retired to Florida, and that Chase was left all alone to raise his infant son.

  The memory of Slade’s death had simply been too painful for the older Garretts to stay in Lucy’s Branch, she supposed. And Mr. Hadley apparently thought Caroline wanted to stay on top of the local news. Each time she touched base with him, he related some tidbit of information, mostly about Chase. As time passed, she conducted business with the well-meaning broadcaster by mail. Lucy’s Branch represented the past and Caroline was not looking back.

  Then or now.

  Drawing back to the present, she realized Chase was watching her. She had no idea how long he had been standing next to her door, his hand extended and waiting to help her from the Jeep.

  “Sorry,” she murmured with as much contrition as she could marshal. She sent a skeptical glance at the ground several feet below. Knowing she would never get out of the blasted Jeep on her own without showing the naughty lingerie she had foolishly donned last evening, she reluctantly accepted his offered hand. A callused palm and long fingers closed around hers, butterflies immediately took flight in her empty stomach. She silently swore. Things just kept getting better and better.

  Cautiously, she eased one leg toward the ground and the hem of her dress rushed to the top of her thigh, displaying her pre-wedding night garter. Jerking her leg back as well as her hand, she quickly smoothed the silky material down to cover the lacy reminder of her broken engagement. She glared at Chase. “Just—” she shooed him away with her hand “—turn around and I’ll figure this out.”

  Chase rolled his eyes and promptly gave her his back. He dropped her Louis Vuitton bag in the dirt and crossed his arms over his chest, then muttered something under his breath. Caroline didn’t quite make it out, but she felt relatively certain that it wasn’t pleasant.

  Summoning to mind a dozen crude adjectives that appropriately described him, she slid to the edge of the seat. She tugged her too-short dress back down and wondered why men had such a fetish with “big.” There was absolutely no reasonable explanation for the size of the tires on this stupid vehicle. Taking a deep breath, she resigned herself to jumping. The worst that could happen was a broken leg, a fractured ankle, maybe. She appraised her black stiletto heels. Definitely a twisted ankle. Probably worse.

  She couldn’t jump.

  Swearing softly, she extended her right leg toward the ground. Anchoring her left foot with one ridiculously spiked heel, she clutched the open door and eased her bottom from the seat. The heel snapped and she almost pitched face first into the dirt. With a curse and shriek she clawed her way back onto the seat.

  Arms still crossed over his mile-wide chest, Chase turned to face her. She scrambled to jerk her dress back to a decent level. “I wasn’t finished yet.” Heat flagged her cheeks.

  “Oh, yes, you are.”

  Caroline drew back when he advanced the two steps necessary to invade her space. “What are you doing?”

  His gaze never leaving hers, he grabbed her firmly by the waist and lifted her off the seat. Startled, Caroline gripped his shoulders for support. “Put me down!”

  “Gladly.” He lowered her feet to the ground, but didn’t release her. Something she couldn’t quite label held her still when she should have struggled. Whether it was the feel of his wide hands on her waist or the undeniable spark of desire in his blue gaze she couldn’t say for sure. She only knew that she couldn’t move.

  After what felt like half an eternity, he spoke. “Why did you come back here, Caroline?” His voice was low and rough, filled with the same emotions clutching at her own defenses.

  It was a mistake, she wanted to shout. She hadn’t meant to take this particular road. Hadn’t meant to crash into the chapel. Had she? Caroline gave her head a little shake of denial. She did not belong here. She hadn’t belonged here in a very long time. Not since...

  Indignant, she pushed out of his arms and stepped back, staggering a bit on the broken heel. “It’s a free country.” She smoothed her clammy palms over her dress. “I don’t have to have an explanation for being here.” She waved her arms magnanimously. “But this is your home. If my being here bothers you somehow, then I’ll walk back to town. I’m sure I can find someplace to stay.” Caroline straightened her shoulders, drawing up to the full height allowed by the one intact heel.

  Chase’s square jaw tightened, a muscle ticked in protest. “Why would anything about you bother me?”

  Caroline lifted her chin in defiance, emotions teetering precariously between outrage and desire. She would not allow him to see how he affected her. “I don’t know, Chase. You just seem a little tense, that’s all.”

  “Trust me, Caroline. It doesn’t have a damned thing to do with you.” He pivoted, snagged her suitcase and strode toward the house, leaving her to do as she pleased.

  Seeing red, but determined not to be outdone by the past, Caroline hobbled after him. Aunt Henri had invited her here. And Caroline wasn’t going to disappoint Henri again. As she started up the flagstone walk, the front door opened and a small boy with curly, raven-colored hair flew across the verandah and down the steps.

  “Daddy! Daddy!”

  Chase abandoned Caroline’s bag on the walk and crouched down to receive the little boy’s enthusiastic hug. “How’s my boy?”

  Chase’s son. Mr. Hadley had told her the child was a boy. Caroline swallowed the unbidden envy constricting her throat. The expression of love on Chase’s face tugged at something deep inside her. She wanted to close her eyes against the scene before her, but couldn’t. She had to look. To see the fruits of Chase’s short-lived marriage to another woman.

  ...when he was supposed to have married Caroline.

  Chase looked up at her. “This is Shane,” he told her, fatherly pride evident in his voice, on his handso
me face. His gaze held hers when she would have looked away. “My son,” he finished, the words echoing all the way to the farthest recesses of her soul.

  Caroline pushed a smile into place and extended her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Shane.” It wasn’t the child’s fault his father had been unfaithful to the woman he was supposed to have loved. Something shifted near her heart when little fingers closed around hers and gave her hand an exaggerated shake. A pair of Garrett blue eyes assessed her with unguarded fascination. Shane was a beautiful little boy, she acknowledged.

  “I’m seven years old,” he piped up. His little face suddenly scrunched in confusion. “I don’t think I know you.”

  “This is Dr. Gregory,” Chase explained quickly. “She grew up in Lucy’s Branch.” He flicked an unreadable glance at Caroline. “But she’s been gone a really long time. She’ll be visiting with us a couple of days.”

  The child eyed her suspiciously. “You don’t give shots, do ya?”

  Caroline smiled then. She couldn’t help herself. “Not unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

  He nodded slowly as if considering her answer, then suddenly bolted toward the steps. “I’ll tell Aunt Henri we gots company!”

  Caroline stared after the little boy for a long moment following his disappearance into the house. Weariness weighed down on her like a wet wool coat. Whatever energy and resolve she’d had left evaporated the instant she laid eyes on Chase’s son. The whole morning had been one emotional rollercoaster ride. The chapel, the town, Chase—she met the concerned gaze now leveled on her—had resurrected memories and emotions buried for more than eight years.

  How would she ever survive the weekend without Chase seeing exactly how badly he had hurt her? How long would it take him to figure out that her great escape all those years ago had not taken her where she wanted to go?

  Yet, she amended as she squared her shoulders. She wasn’t about to give up just yet on her own version of happily ever after. Renewed determination rallied. Nothing about her future happiness depended upon this man or his town.

  Absolutely nothing.

  Caroline Gregory was a survivor. Several times over, she added morosely. Sure, being back in Lucy’s Branch was unsettling, and seeing Chase again was unnerving, but she could deal with it. She was long over him. There was no reason for her to feel even remotely uncomfortable.

  ~*~

  Caroline turned around slowly in the quiet guestroom. White lace curtains fluttered in the breeze from the open window. A matching spread draped an antique four-poster bed. She closed her eyes. Her newly shored up fortitude crumbled. This was entirely too much. How could she be here in this house...with Chase, and trying to pretend that it didn’t matter? She shook her head slowly from side to side. She could probably snag an appearance on Dr. Phil with this twisted tale of infidelity and lost love. Wouldn’t Tristan and his wealthy friends get a kick out of that sordid story?

  The thought ushered a genuine smile to her lips. Tristan would have a cerebral hemorrhage if he discovered the extent of the damage she had done to his new toy. If Caroline were lucky, Zac could make all the necessary repairs in a timely manner. The last thing she wanted was a confrontation with Tristan about his stupid little car. Though it might be somewhat amusing to watch him cry over the twisted and bent hunk of foreign metal, she was no glutton for punishment. Especially if she was the one on the receiving end of the reckoning. Legally she was responsible for the damage.

  A light knock sounded at the door behind her. Caroline turned to find Chase standing in the open doorway, her suitcase in his hand. The smile on her lips died an abrupt death.

  His gaze collided with hers, cloaking them both in instant tension. How could a man who hadn’t shaved and was wearing nothing but faded jeans and a t-shirt look so damned good? Especially this man—a man she knew from experience she couldn’t trust with her heart. Her breath stalled when he stepped into the room and slowly closed the distance between them. He paused near the bed long enough to deposit her suitcase there.

  One of those noncommittal half shrugs lifted his shoulder, but didn’t quite follow through with the gesture. “I shouldn’t have said those things to you outside.” He shifted that analyzing gaze to the floor for a long moment before meeting hers once more. “Lucy’s Branch is your home the same as it is mine. And—” he dipped his head “—you’ll always be welcome in my home.”

  Just not in your heart, Caroline added silently. Myriad emotions tugged at her. She was so very tired. She shouldn’t feel this way. She wasn’t thinking straight. How could a man who had betrayed her appear so utterly concerned for her welfare now? And how could she respond so fiercely? Didn’t matter. Getting through this was the goal.

  “Thank you.” Her throat constricted all over again. Dear God, could she not even look at him without getting choked up?

  Chase slowly lifted one hand and swept a wisp of hair from her cheek. Pure desire barbed through her at the feel of his fingers against her skin. The memory of his touch was forever emblazoned on her heart. His gaze traced her lips as he lowered that same hand every bit as slowly as he had lifted it. Was he remembering, too?

  This whole thing was crazy...surreal.

  “You look tired,” he said gently.

  Too gently.

  Caroline blinked away the hypnotic trance she had allowed herself to slip into. Chemistry, nothing more. Intellectually, she understood how it worked. Basic biology with a little shared past thrown in. Her emotions were on the rebound right now. She needed to prove to her bruised ego that she was still desirable. That was all.

  Retreating a step, she tunneled her fingers through her hair, a nervous habit she had tried to break for years. “I’m fine.” That she managed the statement with some sense of fortitude provided a shot of relief.

  A little slack was needed here. Yes, she continued to bounce around in surrealville, but there was a perfectly logical explanation. No doubt she suffered from some sort of delayed reaction related to Tristan’s unfaithfulness. Post-traumatic stress syndrome probably. And then, of course, the morning’s events had added salt to the wound. That would explain her inability to control her emotions. One minute she was determined, the next uncertain. She would be fine as soon as she had eaten, had some rest and a chance to pull herself together.

  Chase smiled then, again wrecking her equilibrium. “I know you’re fine, Caroline,” he drawled, his tone like slow, hot sex on a sultry summer night. “But you’re obviously tired. I just wanted you to know that if you’d like to take a nap or something, I’ll check with Zac and see what the prognosis is on your car.”

  More confusion joined the mix of emotions. Why the sudden about face? Why would Chase care if she was tired? Why would it matter to him if her car was repairable or not? She blinked. Why was he standing so close? And looking at her as though she were his only true concern at the moment?

  Realization dawned, shaking her with its intensity. He had asked why she came back. Oh, no. She resisted the urge to shake her head vigorously. He couldn’t think—no! No, no, no, no! Surely he didn’t think she had come back for him. Did he somehow believe that she hoped for reconciliation? The arrogant jerk! Rage overpowered all else. She glared at him, ready to do battle.

  “I don’t need your help, Chase Garrett.” She braced her hands at her waist. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself and seeing after my own affairs.”

  Chase knew he wouldn’t soon forget the transformation from uncertainty to outright rage on Caroline’s pretty face. He drew back slightly in anticipation of a possible physical display of her wrath.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like some privacy,” she announced. “I have a lot to take care since I’m leaving early Monday morning.”

  He made the monumental mistake of watching her lips as she spoke. Her lips had always mesmerized him. So full, so deliciously red without even a hint of lipstick. The color contrasted the creamy porcelain of her skin, and then the absolute black
of her hair. Every fine-boned feature of her china doll face spoke of delicacy, vulnerability, yet he knew her strength. He gave himself a mental shake. No matter how he denied it, he had always known that Caroline was the most beautiful woman in the world. Time hadn’t changed that fact. Would she still taste the same? Sweet and hot. She cleared her throat, yanking him out of that dangerous zone. He’d been staring, not to mention lost in his lust.

  That was it. No more mooning over a woman who hadn’t loved him enough to stay eight years ago, and sure as hell didn’t love him now. Nor would she be staying. And, if he worked at it, he could conceivably convince himself that he didn’t care one way or another. “You can use my old truck to do whatever you have to do while you’re here. I need to get back to the office.” Anywhere besides here.

  “Thanks.”

  “Yeah.” A smart man would walk away now. He turned to do just that.

  “Chase.”

  The vulnerability in her voice when she said his name pulled him to a stop. He turned slowly to face her. She twisted a tendril of that silky black hair in her fingers. One second turned to five. He wondered if she intended to say anything else.

  “Look,” she began, “this is ridiculous.” She shook her head. “We’re both adults. What happened in the past is just that—the past.” Her eyes met his and the uncertainty he saw in that silvery gaze despite her determined words tugged on something deep inside him, made him want to hold her and promise her that everything would be all right.

  “I guess what I’m trying to say,” she rambled on, “is that we should try to at least act civil to each other.” Her shoulders squared as if she’d found her stride. “I don’t want to hurt Aunt Henri’s feelings. She loves us both. We need to get through this as painlessly as possible for her sake.”

  Chase thought about that for a moment. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. Henri deserved better. She had stepped in and helped him at a time in his life when things couldn’t have gotten any worse. He owed her much more than he could ever begin to repay.