The Lewis Legacy Series Box Set: 4-in-1 Special Edition

by JoAnn Durgin

  “Natalie! Where are you going?”

  She fixed her gaze on the sidewalk. “I’ll call a taxi to take me back to the apartment.”

  “You’re staying put. I’m taking you home.” His tone left no room for protest. She pouted, but said nothing. Probably storing up her zingers for when they were alone in the car. His wife could dish it out pretty good, and he loved it when he wasn’t the focus of her wrath. But when he was . . . look out.

  “You couldn’t wait for me, is that it?” Natalie seethed once he’d ensconced her in the passenger seat.

  At least she didn’t make him wait long. Here it comes. “Natalie, there’s nothing going on between me and Ashley, and you know it.” Were they in some stupid movie? He wished he could snap his fingers and banish this new nightmare. One of his biggest mistakes, his personal Pandora’s box, had come back full-force to haunt him—haunt them. He needed to make sure to bury it so far down it would never surface again.

  “Even if there’s nothing going on now, you apparently have a past with that . . . that woman. Tell me something: Did I know about Ashley before we were married?”

  “I told you about her, yes,” he said, hoping she’d leave it at that. He couldn’t lie to her—he never had, and he never would. Not that he’d been completely honest and told her the extent of his past relationships. Thankfully, confident and secure, she never asked questions. What did it matter? Dwelling on the past was counter-productive. He rationalized that not telling her was protecting her. It wasn’t lying. Not really. Just following the age-old “don’t ask, don’t tell” rule. If anything, it was more the sin of omission. Admit it. You’d lose her if she knew, and you couldn’t face the loss, the failure. Ashley Williams was a long distant memory. She meant nothing now except to remind him of his past stupidity.

  Stealing a glance, Marc sensed Natalie’s internal struggle as she slumped down further in the seat and crossed her arms. She stared out the window to avoid his scrutiny. At least she didn’t spout further accusations or go off on a rant. That wasn’t her style. In his mind, the stony silence was worse. It continued until they were almost back in Newton, and it was no ten-minute drive.

  “You still haven’t eaten,” he said, turning onto the street of the apartment house.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “You have to eat something. For the baby, if not for yourself.”

  “Well, thanks for the reminder, you adulterer.”

  In some twisted way, Marc found it funny. But he wasn’t a total idiot. Laughter would not be good right now. Is it adultery, Father, if I committed sin with a woman before I was saved? Before I was married? Before I’d even met my wife? No time was right for confessions like this, but he wasn’t ready. Problem was, would he ever be ready?

  “I’m not an adulterer.” Please, Lord. Let her drop it. “Don’t let that ridiculous scene spoil the joy we felt earlier today. I’m with you, and I’ve only been with you since the moment we met. You know that—or at least you did at one time.”

  “Apparently there’s still some things I need to learn about you.” Her words were so quiet, he almost didn’t hear them. But he did, and wished he hadn’t.

  As soon as he pulled the car in front of the house, Natalie climbed out before he’d come to a full stop. She slammed the door. He winced. His car was important to him, and she knew it. That slam told him she knew how important it was.

  “Natalie!” He tried to quell his extreme frustration, but his tone betrayed him. Climbing out of the car, he scrambled to catch up to her. “Don’t run away from me. Let’s talk this out.”

  Headed toward the front door, she halted and turned, partially facing him. Again, she avoided his eyes. “I’m fine. I just need to be alone right now.” The look on her face made it painfully obvious she wasn’t fine.

  “Calling me an adulterer is a serious accusation. If nothing else, I deserve an explanation of why you’re so mad.”

  “Okay.” She stepped closer. “Remember how mad you were the morning I moved out? You couldn’t stomach the fact that Roger and Kyle—my roommates’ boyfriends, for the record—were helping me move out of the house. You were so jealous you couldn’t see straight. I want you to think about how mad you’d be if you’d come down those steps and found me in Roger’s arms, kissing him.” She waited a moment, watching him. “And don’t think I couldn’t tell you were out drinking the night before. I could smell it on your breath. It was embarrassing.”

  “Not that it excuses the drinking, but you’d just told me the night before you didn’t want to live with me in our house anymore.” He lowered his voice, not wanting their fight to become a public spectacle. “How did you honestly expect me to react? In essence, you told me you didn’t want me.”

  She threw her hands in the air. “I never said it was forever! I don’t know how to talk with you. This is the thing: that morning, you made me feel like I was somehow betraying you. But, after what I witnessed at the restaurant today, I’m wondering if the exact opposite is true.”

  Marc shook his head, dazed with disbelief. Where was this anger coming from? “I can’t believe you’d think such a thing. Haven’t I proven my devotion to you, done everything I could to prove my love for you since your accident?” He ran a hand through his hair and swallowed his anger. “Whether you like it or not, I’m your husband, and I’m not going to let you think I’m a cheater. It’s not true, and in your heart, you have to know that.” His voice broke. “Don’t let this negate all the positive steps we’ve taken in the past few weeks, Natalie. No matter what you think of me now, promise you won’t make any more impetuous decisions.” His eyes met hers. “We need to pray about this mess and ask the Lord to help us.”

  She hesitated, and her eyes filled. “Listen,” she said, “since we’re committed to this Montana project for TeamWork, I’m not going to back out now. I’ll meet you at the airport on Saturday, as planned, but don’t expect too much.” Without another word, she hurried inside.

  With a heavy heart, Marc got back in the car. As he started to pull away, he caught something from the corner of his eye. His foot on the brake, he lowered the passenger window as he spied Natalie coming back toward the car. The woman actually stomped. One hand traveled to her hip and she leaned in close, planting her other hand on the edge of the door.

  “By the way, Marc,” she said through clenched teeth, finally meeting his eyes with a glare, “you’ve got a red lip print on your cheek. You might want to clean it off before you go back to your office, especially since it didn’t come from your wife.”

  Driving to a nearby fast food chicken franchise—muttering to himself all the way—Marc marched inside and ordered Natalie’s favorite meal, complete with the extras, condiments and the juice she preferred. Handing the manager an exorbitant tip for one of his employees to hand deliver the meal to Natalie—something not in their normal job description—he left knowing he was the chicken.

  Storming back into the office, his mood completely boomeranged from earlier in the day. After telling them he’d be out the rest of the day, they were surprised to see him blow back into his office and slam the door. Ignoring Christy’s hurt expression after he lashed out at her when she brought him a spreadsheet and asked a valid question, he was irritable and short with everyone who dared cross his path. He couldn’t be bothered, preferring to wallow in his misery, a definite flunky of the Dale Carnegie school of winning friends and influencing people. Not to mention totally obliterating any semblance of a Christian testimony he might have had. Holing up in his office, Marc did little more than sulk, his eyes blurring as he stared at the spreadsheet in front of him.

  Trevor rapped hard and barged inside his office without an invitation less than an hour later, slamming the door. Why was everyone slamming doors today? As if he didn’t know. Usually the consummate professional, he was acting like a Class A jerk.

  “You need something, Trev?” His voice abrupt, he barely looked up, pretending to work.

  �
��Look at me.” Trevor planted both fists on his desk and waited. Normally, he was very even-keeled and rarely showed anger.

  “You’ve got my attention.” He’d hurt Christy, and Trevor didn’t take kindly to it. Well, good for him, standing up for his woman. A stab of guilt ripped through him. He needed to stop being a chauvinist and concentrate instead on being a friend.

  “Stop it.” Those green eyes blazed into him as Trevor raked his fingers through all that thick red hair. “I don’t know what happened today, but I’d say it’s a fair bet it has something to do with you and Natalie. The fact of the matter is, you can’t go around yelling at everyone and taking it out on them. I hope you’re proud of yourself. You’ve got Christy and half the women in this office in the ladies room having a good cry.”

  Marc’s eyes widened. He shook his head. “I’m sorry.” Not only was he pitiful, he was mean to take out his anger on his loyal, valued employees. What a louse.

  “You should be, and you owe them an apology. Time to grovel, my friend. No matter what’s going on—and even though you’re the guy who signs their paychecks—they don’t deserve your anger.” With that, Trevor spun on his heel and departed, leaving the door open.

  Marc lowered his head to his hands, and prayed for forgiveness. With a renewed sense of purpose, he strode out of his office a few minutes later, intent on making amends, starting with Christy. Surrounded by a majority of his thirty employees in a nearby restaurant an hour later, he managed to eat a sandwich. Trevor caught his eye and smiled. It soothed his conscience somewhat, but not much. He’d have to lay low and watch it. He was the boss, not some adolescent kid who couldn’t control his emotions or his personal life.

  The group enjoyed the unexpected afternoon off from work with good food and lively conversation. Marc sat back in his chair, nodding his head every now and then to give the impression he listened, but his mind wasn’t in it. The one person from whom he most sought forgiveness would be going to Montana with him in only two days.

  Doubts about the upcoming trip swirled in his muddled mind. He hoped he didn’t have to endure Natalie’s wrath for the entire two weeks at the work camp. It was intended to bring them closer together, not the opposite. Marc blew out a heavy sigh. His work was definitely cut out for him.

  Lord, give me strength, he prayed for about the hundredth time that day.

  Chapter 20

  It took Natalie almost ten minutes to notice Elwood in the car as he drove them to the airport early Saturday morning. She’d intended to meet him there, but he’d convinced her it made no sense to go separately. Judging by her body language as she settled herself in the passenger seat, it promised to be a long day. As it was, it was going to take more than nine hours and three flights to get from Boston to Helena. If they could manage to get through that, they should be well on the road to reconciliation.

  Hearing a whimper, Natalie twisted around in her seat, her eyes wide. “Why is Elwood in the car? Are you dropping him off somewhere?”

  “Elwood’s coming with us.”

  “He what?” It was nearly a screech. His attempt to please her by bringing the dog might have been misguided, but he thought it would make her happy. Not to mention he’d miss the little guy.

  “Have a heart. He begged me to come along.” Marc graced her with his best impression of the dog’s limpid, pleading eyes.

  She shook her head, the slightest hint of a grin tugging at her lips. When she directed her attention out the window, his quick glance encompassed her jeans tucked into boots, topped with a white cotton blouse and dark gray sweater plus a warm, navy blue down jacket. Her dark hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, and curly wisps escaped down the nape of her neck. She always thought her neck was too long, but he found it beautiful. All the better to nibble and kiss. Might as well push that thought aside since there was a current nibble-and-kiss embargo.

  As they rode in silence, he sensed Natalie doing an assessment of her own. She loved it when he dressed down and wore jeans, a sweater and didn’t put gel in his hair. It struck him that his clothes were nearly identical to hers, except his sweater was a lighter gray. His laugh escaped.

  “Something funny?” Her tone dripped sarcasm, and she raised a skeptical brow.

  “Look at us. We look like we just stepped out of an Eddie Bauer or J. Crew catalog.” Glancing over at him, she let out a short laugh. Good. Break the ice a bit. The flight to Montana was going to be even longer if he couldn’t crack through that frozen wall. “How are you feeling today? Any more morning sickness?”

  “It got a little worse the last few days, probably just nerves about this trip.” She turned her head, her cheeks flushing with color. Probably mad at herself for saying so much to him all at one time.

  “You should have called me. I could have at least provided a little beefcake to cheer you up.” She can objectify me all she wants, Lord. Natalie shook her head and looked out the window, but not before he caught her grin.

  ~~**~~

  Marc checked their bags at the curb and handled the arrangements for Elwood, then they passed through the Logan Airport security checkpoint. “We have about an hour before we board. Do you want something to eat?” He nodded in the direction of the fast food franchises as they headed toward their departure gate.

  “Not really. Go ahead if you want something.” She sat down and pulled out a magazine.

  He tried to catch her eye, but she either ignored him or didn’t notice. “Have you eaten anything today?”

  “Leave me alone.” She returned to her magazine, but appeared a little shaky. Not to mention the magazine was upside down. When she saw his head tilt and grin of amusement, she slapped the magazine down on her lap and blew out a prolonged sigh. “No, I haven’t eaten anything.”

  “Then you need something. I have a vested interest in this pregnancy, too, you know.” Even if she wasn’t taking proper care of herself, she needed to nourish their baby.

  A little snort escaped. “You love to remind me that it’s your baby, don’t you?” She waved her hand in the air. “You’re like some kind of Neanderthal, staking his claim on his woman.”

  He didn’t like her tone, much less the sentiment. Closing his mouth, he glanced around the airport and swallowed his frustration. He sat down beside her, counting under his breath. “Is this anger the result of seeing Ashley the other day?” Even though she shook her head, when she looked up briefly, he glimpsed the glimmer of pain in her eyes. Regret squeezed him. He’d hoped she’d had time to cool off, but it’d only been a couple of days.

  Nothing with Natalie comes easy.

  Except for a couple of brief phone conversations to discuss their travel arrangements, Marc hadn’t made any other contact with her since that ill-fated lunch at Amore. Especially after their last parting, he knew she needed time and space away from him. That realization cut him down hard, but he wasn’t going to force unwanted affection on anyone, especially his own wife. Could it be Dr. Fontaine’s advice wasn’t so far off-base, after all? “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He sounded more curt than he intended.

  Walking to a nearby deli counter, he ordered a couple of breakfast sandwiches. As he waited, his eyes traveled back to Natalie. He wanted to watch his wife, hold her with his eyes when his arms could not. Her head bowed as she read the magazine, and she tucked a wayward strand of hair behind one ear. The corners of her mouth lifted as a small girl waddled beside her chair, falling down on a heavily-padded bottom, giggling in delight. Putting down her magazine, she played with the child as she chatted with the frazzled mother seated in the opposite row of chairs.

  She’s going to make such an incredible mother. With every glance, every movement, every lilt in her charming laugh, Natalie was grace personified. His mother-in-law told him how nurturing she’d been from the time she was a toddler the same age as the one playing beside her now. She pulled the little girl onto her lap with the obvious encouragement of the child’s mother. It was perhaps inevitable she’d become
a teacher. Bouncing the laughing child on her knee, both Natalie and the toddler looked happy, the mother relieved for the short break.

  “Sir?” The voice of the deli manager broke into his musing.

  “Thank you.” Taking the bag of warm, wrapped sandwiches, he grabbed the bottles of juice with his other hand. As the toddler played beside her mother once more, Marc took his seat and offered a sandwich to Natalie. When she didn’t take it, he placed it on the chair between them with a napkin, along with the juice, her favorite—some combination of berries, kiwi and mango.

  “Thanks,” she mumbled, not meeting his eyes.

  Pure and simple, she was mad at her husband, and he needed to give her time to calm down. Usually she was irritated over little things but got over it quickly. This one was much bigger, and he’d have to wear her down, but the Lord knew he embraced a challenge. He hoped getting away from Boston might help. He said a hurried prayer and took the first bite of his sandwich, busying himself by looking around at everyone else. Airports were great for that. He stole a glance at her from the corner of his eye, somewhat appeased she was eating. With cheeks a little pale and her face drawn, she didn’t exactly look like the healthy, expectant mother he wanted to see.

  A few minutes later, she crumpled the empty wrapper and walked across the waiting area. Marc followed her with his eyes as she headed down the terminal. So did the guy sitting in another waiting area across the way until a woman came over and sat down beside him. Out of boredom, he picked up the magazine, needing something to keep his mind occupied. His eyes widened as the title jumped off the page: How to Recapture Your Husband’s Love—After He Cheats.

  Marc dropped the magazine with lightning speed. It was as though the pages burned him, searing through his flesh. Is this what Natalie had been reading? Could she actually suspect him of infidelity? That stunned the spit out of him. Is she so insecure of my love that she’d believe such a ludicrous thing? The only good thing was the article was about recapturing love. Small consolation.