The Bride Wore Starlight

by Lizbeth Selvig

  From the beginning?

  So her entire marriage had been a gigantic mistake? Every minute of it? She struggled again to loosen herself from Tim’s hold.

  “Hey, buddy, the lady asked you not to touch her.”

  A familiar voice cut through her pain and arrested the tears threatening to make her lose her last shred of dignity. She lifted her head and got an entirely different kind of shock than the ones she’d been experiencing the past fifteen minutes.

  “Alec?”

  What on earth was he doing here? She remembered Mia’s earlier anticipation.

  “Good morning, darlin’,” he said. “Ready to drive me to breakfast?”

  Chapter Eight

  DRIVE YOU TO breakfast?

  She stared so long without speaking that Alec stepped forward, laughing, and came in close enough to her side that Tim had no choice but to release her and move out of the way. Alec kissed her on the forehead and pointed at her plate.

  “You forgot, didn’t you?”

  He played the part—which he’d clearly made up on the spot—perfectly.

  She got it. He was making an extemporaneous rescue. And although his lightning-quick adlibbing was impressive, she wanted to punch him almost as much as she did Tim. How arrogant were these two? One figured all he had to do was rant and posture and she’d cave; the other assumed she needed his machismo to save her.

  “Don’t worry,” Alec continued, soothing but not, at least, patronizing. “It’s understandable. We planned it last minute—just a working breakfast. Remember now?”

  She shoved away the old grief and the new pain Tim had caused, and leveled stern eyes at Alec. “That’s right. Very last minute. So we could work on your papers for commitment to the asylum, as I recall.”

  “Exactly. Because I agreed to let you drive my truck. Automatic incarceration if anyone finds out.”

  The man was dang quick. And her pulse nearly choked her when she processed his words. Drive his truck? He was joking, but still . . .

  She literally opened her mouth to protest, but Tim stared at them with such confusion that she closed it. The idea of letting him think she could drive was too enticing. Her creep of a husband didn’t need to know she had no intention of climbing behind anybody’s wheel.

  “What do you mean?” She pierced each man with a defiant glare. “I’m an excellent driver.”

  “Okay, Rain Man.” Alec grinned.

  “Huh?” Joely frowned.

  “Dustin Hoffman? The movie Rain Man? He always said he was an excellent . . . Oh, never mind.”

  “Ah. Well, I missed the reference because Tom Cruise was Rain Man,” she said.

  “Nope. Tom Cruise called his brother Raymond ‘Rain Man.’ You need to study up on your movie references.”

  “For God’s sake!” Tim stepped forward again, his face flushed in frustration. “Who is this mentally unstable person, Jo? Is he even safe to be around? I don’t have time to fool around here listening to college dormitory trivia. Please just get those papers for me and sign them.”

  His veiled insult of Alec irritated Joely. She’d found the ridiculous movie exchange funny, but maybe that was only because Tim looked so completely put out. Alec, on the other hand, seemed unfazed by Timothy Foster.

  “Hi,” he said and extended his arm. “Alec Morrissey. I’m your wife’s driving instructor.”

  Joely covered her mouth with one hand. Not many people turned Tim speechless, but he stood silently a moment, thoroughly nonplussed. Joely caught sight of Mia, who’d closed the front door, followed Alec into the living room, and watched with an almost tangible air of delight.

  “What the hell? Joellen can’t drive,” Tim said at last. “She’s in a wheelchair, for Pete’s sake.”

  “Oh? I don’t know where you got your medical degree, but a wheelchair does not necessarily correlate with an inability to drive.” Alec looked toward Mia. “I think Dr. Crockett there will back me up.”

  “I will,” she said. “Many people with physical challenges are able to drive.”

  Tim looked as if he’d been besieged by a troop of mentally challenged monkeys. He shook his head. “The papers, Joellen.”

  “Look.” All at once, her mind was clear. Seconds ago she’d been so hurt she’d determined to hand him whatever he wanted. Now he was simply making her angry. She’d been putting off going to a lawyer, but she had to make at least one visit even though she was certain she wasn’t legally entitled to anything more than he’d offered. Which was nothing. “I wish you’d called ahead. I have one more thing to do before I give you the papers. I promise I’ll have them in your hands before . . . ” She swallowed the pain for a second time. “Before your son or daughter is born.”

  “That’s not funny,” Tim said.

  “Fine,” she replied, her unmitigated anger at the man she’d once believed she loved making her as calm as she’d ever been around him. “I’ll have them to you by the end of the week. Unless there’s something I find to fight.”

  “There’s nothing to fight.” His partially clenched jaw made his words tight and cold.

  “That’s not for you to decide.”

  “Hear, hear.” Mia spoke quietly from her perch on the arm of the living room chair, where she smiled over her words.

  “I thought you were more mature than this,” Tim said. “What do I have to do? Sit here and wait for you to decide you’ll be an adult about it?”

  “Don’t you mean adult-erer?” Mia asked.

  Joely nearly laughed out loud. She didn’t remember Mia being so quick to sarcasm, but she loved it. Her sister had been an uptight, all-business surgeon until she’d met Gabe. This new Mia was definitely someone you wanted on your team—she was besting Tim at his own controlling game.

  “Please don’t stay,” Joely said. “Go home to Sandra and wait for the mail.”

  “I didn’t come here to turn around empty-handed.”

  “Well, you might just have to, my friend,” Alec said. “Joely has an appointment with me, and I don’t think either of us wants to wait while you keep arguing with her. If she said she’ll have what you want on Friday, she’ll have it. I know that about her.” He held out his hand to her and smiled. An easy, fool-anyone smile that made her knees weak. She could have kicked herself for putting her hand in his, and yet it felt so good—on more than one level. “Ready?” Alec asked. “Let’s grab your things and go. We can show Mr. Foster out on our way.”

  She hesitated. Why was Alec really here? Joely couldn’t make her brain function at a level higher than stupefaction. What did she do now? She wasn’t going with Alec to make good on some seat-of-the-pants ruse, but if she called him on his playacting, she’d look like an idiot in front of Tim. He’d already made a fool of her and her marriage.

  “Sure,” she said, before she could stop herself. “My purse and sweatshirt are in the bedroom.”

  “I’ll get them.” Mia stood and beamed at her and Alec as she passed.

  Joely narrowed her eyes. There was going to be a little “Come to the Lord” meeting later. Her life wasn’t one people could just manipulate.

  And yet she let Alec pull her smoothly to a stand.

  “Chair, crutches, or arm?” He crooked his elbow and spoke as if he knew every nuance of her normal routine.

  She eyed her bedroom, the bathroom, and the front door.

  Seven steps. She could probably get to the bathroom.

  You’re going to regret this.

  “Let me run and brush my teeth,” she said. “Then I’ll use the crutches.”

  Run? Five minutes ago she would have bitten someone’s head off for using that word in reference to her. Was showing off to Tim really worth this? Even Alec looked surprised when she extracted her hand from his and steadied herself.

  “Sure,” he said.

  It took more effort to try to keep the concentration from showing on her face than it did to cross the tiny room to the bathroom door. One step, three steps, five steps. Her
muscles quivered. Her breath came in quiet, heavy puffs, but she held it when she passed Tim so he wouldn’t hear.

  She grabbed the doorknob as if it were a life preserver, shuffled her last steps into the bathroom and closed the door. With a barely stifled groan she sank onto the toilet seat and rested her arms on her thighs, embarrassed for the first time by how little she’d allowed her physical therapy to really help her the past few months. She was in worse cardio shape than Grandma Sadie.

  For two long minutes she sat and calmed her racing heart, got back her breath, and tried to decide if she could possibly make it back to her wheelchair. Forget the crutches. She also tossed out a prayer that Tim would be gone when she reopened the door, and she wouldn’t have to continue with this ridiculous theater at all.

  Finally she stood and picked up her toothbrush. Then she forced herself to look in the mirror. Her scar jumped out as it always did, and Tim’s words jumped through her heart right with it. “And your face . . . I had no idea . . . ”

  Of course not. He hadn’t cared enough to come. Tears beaded in her eyes as she jabbed her toothbrush into her mouth. She detested Tim Foster; why should she be crying?

  She took a few extra minutes for the tears to stop. She splashed them away before smoothing a touch of makeup along her damaged jawline. With a fortifying breath she opened the door.

  The tableau had changed only slightly. Mia had Joely’s purse and sweatshirt on the table. Tim stood closer to the front door. Alec, God bless him, stood outside the bathroom with her crutches. He caught her eyes, and his smile held no more teasing, only empathy. Another epiphany thundered into her head. He really did understand her awkwardness and pain.

  She settled the crutches beneath her arms. “Thanks,” she said so only he could hear.

  “No problem. Ready?”

  The whole farce was ludicrous—an unnecessary exercise she wouldn’t have to go through if she would simply give Tim his stupid divorce papers and send both men packing. Instead she answered him.

  “Ready.”

  “She’ll be back shortly,” Alec said to Mia. “We’ll run those couple of errands.”

  Mia nodded, playing right along. “No hurry. I’ll pack up the last of the kitchen stuff and start on the bedroom.”

  “Sorry,” Joely began.

  “Nonsense. You kids have fun.” She turned to Tim. “Brother-in-law, I’m guessing that’s the last time I’ll call you by that name, you have a fun flight back to the land of people who don’t deserve my sister.”

  He ignored her as he had for most of the visit. “I’m staying in Wolf Paw Pass until I have the papers.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  Alec opened the apartment door and inclined his head to Tim. “After you.”

  Joely hung back while Tim left and watched him stride arrogantly down the hall. When he was out of earshot she turned to Alec.

  “Just let him go. We don’t have to follow him. This is ridiculous.”

  “It is,” he said, “but he’ll be waiting because he’s a blowhard. He knows he’s a dickhead. He’s just not about to admit it.”

  “Don’t be crude,” Joely said. “I prefer Douchebag. It’s slightly more refined.”

  He laughed. “Why it should matter I don’t know. He’s both.”

  “Let’s go. But I’m not driving any truck. I seriously can’t drive.”

  “You can. It’s your left leg that’s injured. This is an automatic so you can do what needs to be done with your right.”

  “I’m not driving.”

  “Okay.”

  Alec was right, Tim waited for them outside. When Joely lurched her way to Alec’s truck on the crutches she had never let herself get used to, Tim watched her with focused, fox-like eyes. He seemed to take her all in when she stopped a few feet from where he stood.

  “Interesting,” he said.

  “What do you want?” she asked. “Besides the papers. Which you’ll get.”

  “You led me to believe you were completely incapacitated, and that’s why you were so desperate to stay under my benefits as long as you could. I’m not seeing the immobile invalid I expected to find. Have you been freeloading off of me, Jo?”

  To her surprise, Alec tensed beside her even before she could clench her own fists. He took a step toward Tim and lowered his head like a bull warning of a charge.

  “I’ve been pretty civil with you,” he said. “But you’re stepping over the line, buster.”

  Tim laughed in his face. “Me over the line? I’ve been nothing but generous with a woman who seems to be taking advantage.”

  “Look here, assh—”

  “Stop!” Joely grasped Alec’s arm and tugged. “Don’t stoop to that, Alec. Tim, it’s time for you to leave. I’m not even going to enlighten you with the truth. You never made a single attempt to find it out for yourself. So think what you want. We’re done except for the partying.”

  With that she whipped open her purse and pulled out the thick, folded sheaf of papers. Tim’s eyes widened like he was seeing the Holy Grail.

  “You want them? Will it get rid of you so I can tell myself this is the last I’ll see of you?” She dug for a pen, and while she did, Alec took the papers from her hand. “Hey!” she said.

  “You’re not handing them over under these circumstances. You haven’t let him bully you yet. Don’t let him start.”

  “This is none of your business.” She reached for the papers, and he let her grasp them but held one end as well.

  “It’s not. And I’m not saying what you should do with them other than hang on until you decide what to do. He shouldn’t get to say.”

  “Now who’s being the ass?” Tim said, derision dripping from his words.

  “It’s still you,” Alec replied. “But even so, if fifteen minutes from now Joely still wants to sign these and give them to you, I’ll drive her to your hotel myself.”

  “I thought she could drive.”

  “Yeah, but it’ll get rid of you faster if I do it.”

  Tim finally gave up. With a snort and an angry mutter he shook his head and turned for his car. “I need those in my hand within twenty-four hours,” he said without looking back.

  “Or what, Tim? You’ll take me for all I’ve got? You’ve pretty much done that.”

  He left the parking lot in his rented Lexus and Joely sagged with relief.

  “Hasta la vista, baby,” Alec said with a curl of his lip.

  “Thank you, Lord,” Joely added. “Now I don’t need to pretend to drive anything.”

  “No, I think you should anyway,” he said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Truck’s right here. Climb in.”

  He pointed to a gorgeous, royal blue, Ram pickup. With an extended cab, polished aluminum hubcaps, and a luxury trim package, it was enough to make any cowgirl who’d ever pulled a horse trailer catch her breath. Joely’s caught and stuck as she imagined this beauty smashed to oblivion on the highway.

  “No way,” she said.

  “Just sit in it.”

  “No. Because I know what would come next. One little push after another until you make me try and drive. I’m not ready.”

  “Stop your whining and just get in.”

  “Arrogant, egotistical—”

  “Stubborn, mean, rude. Yeah, I’ve heard them all. Look, you stood up to Gucci Tim. It’s time to stand up to yourself and stop getting in your own way. You’ve gotten this far. I’m not about to let you give up.”

  She stood still, confused. “What exactly are you doing here this morning?”

  “Mia called me last night. She said you needed something distracting and annoying to get your mind off moving, and she thought of me.”

  Joely bit her lip to keep back a grin. “She actually said that?”

  “She absolutely did. So how could I resist? I clearly love being somebody’s most annoying person. Then I walked in, and you were wrestling with Mr. Wonderful. The rest just happened.”

&
nbsp; “I was not wrestling!”

  He shrugged. “He had his hands where you didn’t want them.”

  “True.” A pang of sadness for what she’d believed had once been lanced through her heart, and the failure of it all struck her again.

  “Hey.” He surprised her by touching her on the cheek. “Don’t mourn him.”

  “I’m not.” She brightened with effort.

  “Good. C’mon, let me help you into the truck. Give it a try.”

  Her pulse zigzagged anxiously through her body. “Alec, I don’t think I should. I haven’t been behind a wheel since . . . ” She bit her lip again.

  “Since the accident,” he said for her. “And you’re scared. That’s normal.”

  “And my legs don’t move fast.”

  “We aren’t going anywhere but mostly empty roads. Come on, Joely. Be brave. For ten minutes face your fear.”

  “I’m not brave.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  She closed her eyes and tried hard to conjure up her annoyance at him, but it had driven off with Tim. Now it was Alec she wanted to convince she wasn’t a wimp. When had she transferred that need to him? With a deep breath, she nodded.

  “Do you want me to help you in, give you pointers on climbing up, or just figure it out yourself?” he asked at the door of the pickup’s cab. “No wrong answer.

  “You’re asking? I thought you just jumped in and took over.”

  “Normally.” He laughed. “But I remember how I hated being treated like a mindless two-year-old when I was learning to walk again. I wanted constructive help, not coddling.”

  Her gratitude notched upward. The man was two-sided—an arrogant guy who had a true underlying layer of nice. She didn’t know what to do with that. He could bowl her over and then cheer when she got angry and picked herself back up.

  “Good leg on the running board,” she said. “Then bad leg. Good leg in. Then bad leg.”

  He nodded. “Give it a go.”

  The hardest part was holding all her weight on the injured leg for the first step up. After that her body didn’t move elegantly, but she managed to stuff herself into the driver’s seat. She looked to Alec for approval, and he gave her a modest, cheerful thumbs-up. To her surprise, she found the simple acknowledgment more satisfying than the enthusiastic praise she was used to getting from her physical therapists. She hadn’t climbed Denali after all; she’d gotten into a truck.