“I don’t know,” Monica answered. “We haven’t discussed it.”
“Can I be your flower girl, Mama?”
“Well, if we have that sort of wedding, I suppose…” She cast a helpless glance in Daniel’s direction.
“We’ve got lots of things to decide,” he said to Heather. “But we’ll include you as we make every single one of those decisions. Fair enough?”
Heather thought about it a moment, then answered, “Okay.”
Monica smiled. Daniel’s answer had been the perfect one.
“Are you gonna call Grandma and tell her? There’s a phone at the ranger station. Can we go call her now?”
“Maybe we should tell her in person,” Daniel suggested. He looked at Monica for confirmation.
She nodded. “I think that would be better.”
Heather hopped up and down. “Can I at least call Mary? I can’t wait till we go home. Can I, Mama? Can I?”
“Okay, but you have to wait until after we eat lunch.”
“Mary’s gonna be so surprised.”
Monica nodded, thinking to herself that it wouldn’t hurt to let Becky Stover know, via Mary, that Daniel was taken. She hadn’t forgotten the way the divorced Mrs. Stover had come on to him the night of the school carnival.
She almost laughed when she recognized what she was feeling: jealous and possessive.
“What’s funny?” Daniel asked softly.
She met his gaze. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”
All of a sudden, Heather asked, “So does this mean my last name will change to Rourke?”
Monica paused with the spatula poised above the skillet. Heather’s question made her realize anew that everything would change because of her decision to marry Daniel. Nothing would stay the same. Her home. Her business. Even her daughter’s and her own last name. Everything would change.
It was scary and exciting at the same time.
She heard Daniel say, “That would make me proud, to have you using my name.”
“Can I tell Mary to call me that from now on? Can I tell her my name is Heather Rourke?”
“It’s okay with me. Monica?”
She turned around. “If that’s what you want, honey,” she answered Heather. When she looked at Daniel, she added, “I plan to use the name Rourke myself.”
Chapter Twelve
The remainder of their stay in McCall was just about perfect.
On Sunday afternoon, after Heather called Mary with the news of her mom’s engagement, the family took a hike along the nature trails. They rented a speedboat and toured the entire lake, looking at the many beautiful cabins that lined the shores, some of them brand-new, some of them sixty years old or more. They went into McCall, the small resort town nestled on the south end of the lake. They perused the tourist shops, then ate dinner at a little Italian restaurant that featured delicious spaghetti and meatballs. Finally, they drove twelve miles to the hot springs outside of New Meadows and went swimming.
That night, they stayed up late, talking by the campfire, after Heather was sound asleep. They spoke of many things, but oddly enough, they didn’t discuss any of the decisions still to be made. This was a time for basking in the love they had found and lost, then found again.
Monday morning, they took their time breaking camp. They ate breakfast first, then they each rolled up their sleeping bags before dismantling the tents—a job much easier, but less hilarious, than the original assembly had been. After that, Heather threw a stick for Cotton while her mom washed the two skillets and few utensils and her dad started packing the back of the minivan. They were ready to leave by eleven.
Daniel noticed how quiet Monica was during the drive down to Boise, but he didn’t try to force a dialogue. If something was troubling her, she would tell him when she was ready. They had settled the two most important things: they were in love, and they were getting married. Everything else would fall into place at the proper time.
Bless Heather’s heart. As usual, she took up any slack in conversation. She let them all relive her experience of baiting her first hook with a nightcrawler and reeling in her first trout. She teased her dad about the fiasco of putting up the big tent but tempered it with praise for how well it had stayed up for two nights. And she rhapsodized about the possibility of being a flower girl for her mom.
The more Daniel thought about it, the more he liked the idea of a formal church wedding. Bridesmaids and ushers, flowers and candles, a seven-layer cake. The whole works. After all, he only intended to get married once, so they might as well do it up right. Monica hadn’t given any indication what her thoughts on this subject were, but between him and Heather, he figured they could convince her that a big church wedding was in order.
He grinned as he remembered Monica saying she planned to take the name Rourke after they were married. In this day and age, he wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d kept her maiden name, but he was glad she didn’t want to. It was probably just shy of medieval to feel the way he did. So call him a male chauvinist. He wanted his wife to be Mrs. Rourke.
Heather quieted, then fell asleep, about half an hour before they arrived at their destination.
As Daniel turned the minivan into Monica’s subdivision, she glanced at him and said, “I’d like you to go with Heather and me to tell my folks. We probably should do it tonight. As soon as Dad gets home from work. Is that okay?”
“Anytime you say.”
“I’ll call Mom when we get home.”
“I wouldn’t mind a shower and a shave before we go.” He rubbed the stubble on his jaw. “You’d probably like that, too, before I decide it’s time to kiss you again.”
She smiled. That secret sort of woman’s smile that made a fellow forget to breathe. “Yes, I think I would like that,” she said, her voice husky. “You’re welcome to use the guest shower instead of driving home, if you want.”
Once the van was unloaded, Heather was given permission to go to Mary’s to play, and Monica gave herself permission to let everything else—the flashing light on the answering machine and the stack of unopened mail—wait while she took a shower. A few minutes later, she closed her eyes while a hot spray washed over her. Tiny surges of water massaged her scalp and skin. She reveled in the clean scent of the soap after two nights in a dusty campground.
As the bathroom filled with steam, Monica’s thoughts drifted to Daniel, as was so often the case.
Married. She was going to marry Daniel.
It didn’t seem real to her yet. It probably wouldn’t feel real to her until they stood before the minister and he pronounced them man and wife.
Were they doing the right thing? Daniel had been back less than a month, and he’d only given his heart to the Lord yesterday. Was she crazy to think she was in love with him again? Was he crazy to think he was in love with her? Was it only nostalgia they were feeling and not a lasting love?
We aren’t rushing. It’s already taken us over eleven years longer than it should have.
She let out a deep breath as his words repeated in her head. She had nothing to fear. His commitment to his new-found faith was real. He loved her and Heather. She loved him, and she wasn’t about to let doubts and her own insecurities frighten her into thinking otherwise.
She smiled as she tipped her head back and rinsed the shampoo from her hair, memories of her and Daniel drifting through her mind by the campfire last night. He’d whispered all those syrupy sweet nothings in her ear, making her giggle and tingle. She hadn’t cuddled and cooed so much since she was a teenager.
How extraordinary to discover the feelings of love were the same now as they’d been when she was still a girl.
Extraordinary, indeed.
When Monica went downstairs, she found Daniel on the telephone. His back was to her as she entered the kitchen.
“Charley,” he said sternly, “we’ve been through this already. You’re not going to see me until September.”
He shook his head as he listened
to whoever this Charley person was.
“Someone else will have to cover that story. You’ve got plenty of good reporters working for you. Send Raymond Zimms. He’s been dying for the right opportunity.”
It had to be his boss, Monica decided.
“Well, as a matter of fact, I do have something more interesting going on around here. I’m getting married.”
“What?” shouted the voice on the other end of the line.
Daniel laughed. “Don’t have a heart attack, Charley. People do get married, you know? Even guys like me.”
Monica could still hear the man shouting but she couldn’t make out what he was saying.
Daniel turned, saw her, shrugged his shoulders and grinned as he held the receiver away from his ear. Finally he interrupted his boss. “Gotta go. Send Raymond after that story, Charley. You won’t be sorry.” He dropped the receiver into its cradle, still grinning.
“I take it whoever that was isn’t happy with you.”
“Charley Cooper. Best editor in the country, in my not so humble opinion, and diehard bachelor if ever I knew one. And, no, he’s not happy with me at the moment.”
“I thought not.”
He stepped toward her. “Trouble with Charley is, he’s never met a woman like you to change his mind about marriage.” He captured her in a close embrace.
She wrapped her arms around his waist. “It sounded like he wants you in Chicago now.”
“He does. But he isn’t going to get me.” He brushed his lips lightly across hers. “Not until I can take you and Heather with me.”
She released a tiny sigh. “I guess we’d better talk about that, hadn’t we?”
“Yeah.” He kissed her again, more thoroughly this time. When he let her go, he said, “Set a date, Monica. I’ll be there with bells on.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of a tux.”
He chuckled. “Whatever you want. I’m here to please.” He kissed her again, then drew back to gaze into her eyes. “You’re blushing, Monica.”
“I am not,” she argued, even though she could feel the heat in her cheeks.
He kissed her and whispered, “Oh, yes, my darling, you most certainly are.”
She placed her hands on his chest and gently put some distance between them. “Daniel, be serious. We need to talk before we see my parents.”
He gave her a hangdog expression. “All right. If you’d rather talk than kiss.”
“Not hardly,” she muttered as she turned away from him and led the way into the family room.
They sat side by side on the sofa.
“Item number one?” he prompted, pretending to be all business even as his gaze slipped to her mouth.
“Well.” She cleared her throat. “I suppose that would be the wedding date and deciding what sort of wedding we want.”
“Soon. Very soon. And I want one with all the trimmings.”
Monica could almost hear her mother’s voice: It takes time to plan a formal wedding, dear. “Six weeks,” she said to Daniel. “Six weeks from now, on Saturday if the church is available. That should be enough time to make the necessary arrangements.” She hoped she was right about that.
“And Heather will get to be a flower girl,” Daniel reminded her.
“She’d be terribly disappointed if she wasn’t.”
“Yeah, she would.” He brushed stray wisps of hair away from her forehead. “And I’d be disappointed for her.”
“All right. That’s settled then.”
He kissed her, deeply, thoroughly. He kissed her until she was left breathless by the encounter, her brain in a fog.
They weren’t getting very far very fast.
“Next topic,” he whispered, his lips brushing against hers. “The honeymoon. Two weeks in Hawaii.”
“Two weeks? I’ve never been away from Heather that long.”
“Okay, one week. But still in Hawaii. I want to take you someplace romantic.”
It sounded wonderful to Monica. Long walks on the beach in the moonlight. Swimming in the surf. The scents and sounds of a tropical isle. And all of it with Daniel as her husband.
Her pulse quickened.
Daniel chuckled. “You’re blushing again.”
She frowned, determined to control her thoughts, not let them float away on clouds of romantic daydreams. “What about this house? What about your father’s house? Are we going to keep them? Rent them? Sell them? What about Solutions? What do I do with my business? Is there a chance we might come back to Boise one day? Where are we going to live in Chicago? Is your apartment big enough for a family or do we need to find a house? Are the schools good where you live or will we need to think about a private school for Heather? Daniel, we have to talk about these things.”
Her little speech had been as much for her as for Daniel. It seemed to do the trick.
He sighed, then leaned back on the couch. “You’re right. But I’m not sure I have answers to your questions.”
“We don’t have to know the answers right away,” she countered. “We just have to identify the issues.”
“You sound like a reporter.”
“I doubt that.”
“I love you, Monica. Have I told you that today?”
“You said you were going to behave.”
“Sorry.” He lifted his hands in a sign of defeat. Then he grinned. “Here goes. I’ll rent out my dad’s house again. We can wait awhile to decide what to do with your house. We might want to keep it as an investment. Solutions? Hmm. It seems to me you’ve got the personnel to run it if you’re not here. Maybe you ought to think about opening a branch office after you move to Chicago. Unless you want to stay home and be a full-time wife and mom. Which would be okay with me, too, if that’s what you want to do. You’ve talked about having more kids. Maybe now’s the time.”
It surprised her that Daniel was the first to bring up the subject of more children.
“I wouldn’t mind a brother or sister for Heather,” he added. “Maybe a couple of them.”
Her heart fluttered in response to the tenderness in his voice and to the words themselves. To be pregnant with Daniel’s child again, only this time as his wife with him wanting the baby, with him being with her from the conception to the delivery, to see him holding his newborn child and walking the floor at two in the morning, standing beside her at the baby’s dedication in church.
Daniel didn’t seem to know what she was feeling. He just kept addressing each question she’d brought up moments before.
“Will we come back to Boise someday? I don’t know, Monica. There aren’t the same sort of job opportunities for me here as there are back East or in the Midwest, but maybe I ought to be looking at doing something else. It was the need to get away from the rat race that brought me to Boise last month. Where will we live in Chicago? In my apartment. Yes, it’s large enough for a family. At least for the present. Later we might want to buy a house. Schools? I haven’t got a clue, but I can find out by making a phone call or two. Want me to do it now?” He moved as if to get up.
“No, Daniel.” She stopped him with a hand on his arm. “You don’t need to call anyone right now.”
He leaned toward her, his expression earnest. “I’m not making light of any of this, you know. It’s all important to me, too. I just think it’ll take time to discover what’s right for us as a couple and as a family. But as long as we go into this marriage knowing we’re going to stick together through thick and thin—no divorce, no easy way out—then I’m convinced each one of us will be satisfied as we look for answers.” His voice lowered a notch. “Agree with me?”
She nodded, never letting her gaze waver from his, her heart welling over with joy.
“I’m not going to make the same sort of mistakes my dad made.”
“I know that.”
“And I’m not going to run from commitment again. I promise you that, too.”
“I believe you.”
After a lengthy silence, he kissed
her, afterward saying, “Sorry. I can’t seem to stop myself from doing that.”
“I’m glad.” She smiled. “I won’t want you to stop yourself very often.”
When Monica called her mother, telling her she wanted to come over and bring Daniel with her, Ellen invited them for dinner. “Be here at six, dear. You know how your father likes to eat on time.”
“Yes, Mom, I know. We’ll be there.”
After Monica was off the phone, Daniel returned a few more calls from the messages he’d picked up earlier. When he hung up from the last call, he told her he had to run an errand but would be back by five o’clock.
To be honest, she was a little hurt that he didn’t invite her along with him. The house seemed too empty and quiet after he left.
On a whim, she decided to go into the office. She wanted to tell Doug Goodman the news of her engagement. She called the Stover residence and asked the sitter if Heather could stay for a couple more hours. After receiving an affirmative response, she called Solutions, making certain Doug was in his office. He was.
“Do you want to speak to him, Ms. Fletcher?” the receptionist asked.
“No, Terri. Just tell him I’m on my way down and not to leave until I get there.”
“I’ll do it, Ms. Fletcher. See you in a bit.”
As she drove toward downtown Boise, Monica wondered if she was wrong to tell Doug before she told her mother. But the truth was, she would burst if she didn’t share her joy with somebody. She simply couldn’t wait another three hours. And Doug was not only a dear friend but the person she would need to entrust Solutions to in the near future.
She doubted he would be surprised. He seemed to have figured out what would happen before Monica did. It must be that analytical accountant’s brain of his, she thought as she pulled into her reserved parking space in the underground garage.
I’m going to marry Daniel. Thank You, God, for drawing him to You. Thank You for bringing us together again.
She grinned as she entered the elevator.
I’m going to marry Daniel.
Another Chance to Love You Page 14
