ARKANSAS WEDDINGS: THREE-IN-ONE COLLECTION

by Shannon Taylor Vannatter

  Ryler looked toward the porch ceiling and rolled his neck from side to side, grinding tendons against tensed muscle.

  “It’ll be fine.” Shell squeezed his hand. “You’re doing the right thing.”

  “I’m glad you came with me.” Beside him, at the most important crossroad in his life. Lord, give me strength.

  “Me, too. I can’t wait to see Sylvie’s face. She’ll be so happy.”

  “You don’t think she’ll be disappointed? I mean—I’m not polished and savvy like Collin.” He raised his arms. “Even in this ridiculous sports coat. I should have worn my jeans, like I usually do.”

  “You look better than Collin could ever hope to look.” She straightened his collar. “You’re real and you’re her son. That’s all she’ll care about. Want me to ring the bell?”

  “Could you?”

  She jabbed the button. “But I won’t tell them. You have to do that yourself.”

  Wanting to bolt, Ryler closed his eyes. Run. Squeal tires out of here and never come back.

  The door opened and Hayden frowned. “Ryler, is everything all right?”

  “Fine. Is everyone here?”

  Shell squeezed his hand again.

  “Yes. And very curious.” Hayden stepped aside so they could enter. “But I’m afraid Mr. Kroft won’t be coming down. He isn’t feeling well.”

  Drunk. Ryler’s gut twisted and he tried to concentrate on the decor. Classy and expensive, but not over the top. It still didn’t make sense. If he had a trust fund, then Collin and Laken likely did, too, yet Martin and Sylvie’s home wasn’t overly grand or ostentatious. Had Martin drank away the fortune? And where had the money come from to begin with?

  “They’re waiting in the drawing—I mean the den. Right through here.” Hayden tapped on the door, then swung it open. “Your guest has arrived—with a guest.”

  Sylvie sat on a throne-like white chair. Hayden claimed a seat beside Laken on the matching couch, and Collin sat in the twin chair.

  “Why, Shell, what a pleasant surprise.” Sylvie’s brows drew together. “Ryler, it’s always nice to see you, but I must admit, I’m confused as to what this meeting could possibly be about.”

  Sucking in a deep breath, Ryler paused. Where to start? He fished in the inside pocket of his sports coat. “It’s about”—pulling out her letter and the pearls, he held them up dangling from his trembling fingers—“these.”

  Chapter 7

  With a gasp, Sylvie jumped up. “Where did you get those?”

  Ryler swallowed the taste of bile rising in his throat. “Out of my safe deposit box.”

  “You’re”—Sylvie’s chin quivered—“our son?”

  Laken clasped a hand over her mouth.

  Closing his eyes, Collin grinned, as if to say, Why didn’t I figure it out sooner?

  “Hayden, Collin, go get Martin.” Sylvie tried to blink away tears. “Bring him down even if you have to carry him.”

  “Now, wait a minute.” Hayden put a protective arm around Laken’s waist. “I don’t mean to seem ugly, but how do we know if Ryler is the real deal? For all we know, he could have stolen the key or found it in the trash.”

  “I know.” A sob escaped Sylvie and she pressed her knuckles against her trembling lips. “I should have known the moment I saw him. Maybe a part of me did. He’s Martin made over, as a young man. Except for the facial structure and the eyes, which I see every day in my mirror.”

  Ryler felt like a child as they talked around him. I’m right here in the room.

  “I’m sorry.” Hayden shook his head. “I certainly don’t mean to steal the potential joy out of the situation, but I think we need proof before we tell Martin. If this is a mistake, it might kill him.”

  “It’s no hoax.” Ryler’s jaw clenched. “I have a letter from my birth parents telling me who my biological parents are. I have twenty thousand dollars, which I haven’t spent a penny of, that I found in my safe deposit box with Sylvie’s letter and the pearls. I’d be happy to take a blood test.”

  “That’s not necessary.” Collin shook his head. “Mother’s right. Look at him.”

  “You’ve been in town for months.” Hayden rubbed his stubbled jaw. “Why are you just now telling us who you are?”

  Ryler’s Adam’s apple worked. “I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a part of this family. Parents who gave me away. Siblings who possibly didn’t know I existed.”

  “We didn’t give you up by choice.” Sylvie’s voice shook.

  “I’m sorry, Sylvie, I’m only trying to protect this family.”

  “Protect this family or your share of the inheritance?” Ryler’s tone had a steely edge to it.

  “I’ll never touch Laken’s money,” Hayden growled.

  “Stop it.” Laken’s voice cracked. “This isn’t getting us anywhere.”

  Sylvie patted Hayden’s arm. “I know you’re worried, but I’m convinced. Ryler has Martin’s hair, my features, and my grandmother’s pearls. We’ll have a paternity test before we tell Martin, but it’s a technicality. Now, please leave us. I’d like to speak with my son. Alone.”

  “You okay?” Shell whispered.

  He closed his eyes and squeezed her hand. “I need to speak with Shell. I’ll be back.”

  His wobbly legs worked well enough to get him outside. “I’m fine. Thanks for being here, but I guess I’ll do this part on my own.”

  “I’ll wait here.”

  “It’s hot and this could take awhile.” He handed Shell the keys to his SUV and kissed her temple. “If it goes long, go home. I’m sure Collin would take me by your place to pick up my rig.”

  The door opened and Collin came out, followed by Hayden and Laken.

  Collin punched his shoulder. “I should have known. Welcome to the clan, bro.”

  The brothers bumped fists.

  With a sniffle, Laken flew into his arms. “I’m glad you’re here. Don’t mind Hayden, he’s just concerned.”

  “Someone has to keep on top of the emotion.” Hayden offered his hand. “But for the record, I believe you.”

  “No hard feelings.” Ryler shook hands with his brother-in-law. “We’ll do the blood test and put everyone’s minds at ease. And for the record, I’m not here for the money. I’d just like to know my family.”

  Laken pulled away and gave his shoulder a squeeze. “I’m so thankful you’re home.”

  “Me, too. I think.”

  “We’re going to hang out in the family room if you’d like to join us, Shell.” Collin opened the door.

  “Thanks, but I’m fine here.”

  “Please…” Laken hesitated at the door. “Join us, Shell.”

  “I need some fresh air.”

  They went back inside, leaving only Shell still there for support.

  “You should wait inside with them. They don’t bite.”

  “Collin might. Go.” She sat in a chair at the table on the porch. “I’ll be right here.”

  He blew her a kiss and stepped back inside.

  Sylvie met him in the entryway. “I was so afraid you wouldn’t come back.” She lunged into him with a hug.

  His arms remained at his sides as a flurry of emotions warred within him.

  “I’m sorry.” A woman’s confused voice came from his left.

  Sylvie jerked away.

  The maid stood in the dining area. “Excuse me, ma’am. Will you and your guest need anything?”

  “Yes. I’d like a lovely glass of sweet tea. What about you, Ryler?”

  “That sounds great.” Maybe it would dislodge his tongue.

  “We’ll be in the den. And please tell Martin I still have guests.” She tucked her hand in his elbow, as if they were old friends. They retraced their steps.

  After shutting the double doors behind them, she sat on the couch. “Ryler, I want you to know we didn’t throw you away. And Martin and I have never made any arrangements for what would happen if you didn’t claim your inheritance.” She patted the seat beside
her. “Hayden loves this family and he’s only watching out for us. Please don’t hold it against him.”

  “He’s protective of his family. I can respect that.” He took a seat at the other end of the couch, clasping his hands in front of him. “Why did you give me away?”

  “I was sixteen when I met Martin.” A heavy sigh came from deep within her. “My family didn’t like him because he came from the wrong side of the tracks, so to speak. You see, I come from a very well-to-do family. The kind of people who have mansions and hordes of servants. The kind of people who look down on the ordinary working class.”

  “They didn’t want you involved with someone beneath you.” Ryler frowned.

  “They wouldn’t even let me see him.” Sylvie dabbed her eyes with a tissue, her bracelets jingling with each movement. “My parents threatened to cut me out of the family fortune if I didn’t stop seeing him.”

  “But you didn’t stop.”

  “No. Money had nothing to do with how Martin and I felt about each other. For the first time in my life, money didn’t matter. We snuck around, stealing time together whenever we could. Many nights, I snuck out of my bedroom.”

  “And you got pregnant.”

  Sylvie’s eyes closed. “Martin begged my parents to let him marry me. You can imagine how horrified they were. Not only had I been sneaking around behind their backs, but I was pregnant by a commoner. They whisked me off to Little Rock before anyone found out, hoping to save the family name. And they gave me two choices.” Her voice broke. “Abortion or adoption.”

  A hard swallow couldn’t dislodge the boulder in his throat.

  A knock sounded at the door. “Your tea is ready, ma’am.”

  “Come in, Sharlene. Just leave the pitcher here and please see that we’re not interrupted, except when the nurse arrives.”

  His father required a nurse?

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Thank you, dear.” Sylvie took a sip of her tea.

  Ryler drained his glass and set it back on the coffee table.

  “My, you were parched.” She poured him another glass.

  “I guess I should thank you for letting me live.”

  More tears filled her eyes. “I never considered anything else. I begged and pleaded, but my parents wouldn’t budge. I chose life for you.”

  But without her and Martin in it.

  “As soon as I turned eighteen, I came back to Searcy and married Martin. We wanted to find you, but my parents cut me off and we didn’t have the money to hire a lawyer. We tried to get on with our lives, to move forward. We had Collin and then Laken, but there was always a Martin Jr.-sized hole in our family and in our hearts. But you know most of this from my letter.”

  Pressure built up in his chest, as if he might explode. “I never read the bulk of it. Just the beginning and your names.”

  “Why?” A frown creased her forehead.

  “No offense, but I already had parents.”

  Her hand shook as she sipped her tea. “Finally, when you were six, my grandmother gave me my trust fund. We hired a lawyer, which led us to the children’s home in Little Rock. But by then, you’d been adopted. The director assured us that you were in a good, stable Christian home.”

  Ryler swallowed.

  “Martin and I cried and prayed over the decision and came to the conclusion that we couldn’t rip you away from everything you’d ever known. Were you happy with your adoptive family?”

  “My parents were awesome.” Weird discussing his parents with his mother.

  Her mouth twitched.

  “Sorry. It must be odd for you to hear.”

  “No, I so hoped you were happy and loved. I’m glad you were. Do they know you found me?”

  “They died shortly after I turned eighteen.”

  “Oh my.” Sylvie clasped a hand over her mouth. “I’m so sorry. Did you know you were adopted?”

  He nodded. Why go into the rest of it? “My aunt gave me the key after their funeral, but I wasn’t emotionally ready to deal with any of it. She insisted I had to open the box by my thirtieth birthday.”

  Her chin quivered. “Since my parents set up trust funds for Laken and Collin, Martin and I used most of my inheritance to set up your trust. We put the pearls and the money in the safe deposit box and lived on my shares Grandmother left me in the family company. The director of the children’s home promised to give the key to your”—Sylvie swallowed hard—“parents.”

  “Over the years, we longed for you. Sometimes my arms literally ached, I wanted to hold you so badly. I so wish we could have raised you. Everything would have been so different.”

  But he’d had a blessed childhood and didn’t regret a moment of his time with the Grants. Meeting his biological mother still felt like a betrayal to them, yet it was what they wanted. Tangled emotions bubbled inside him.

  “Instead, I coped by becoming a snooty busybody, while Martin started drinking and it steadily got worse and worse. He’s better. As your thirtieth birthday approached, we hoped your adoptive parents would give you the trust fund papers. It gave us hope.”

  A loud gong. Ryler jumped as the grandfather clock gonged five more times. They’d been at this an hour. No wonder he was exhausted.

  He gulped another swig of tea. “What do you mean, he’s better? Is he getting treatment?”

  “No, but for the first time ever, he’s thinking about it.” Sylvie pinched the pleat of her slacks between her thumb and forefinger. “But I think the possibility that you might come home made him realize he has a problem. He doesn’t want you to see what losing you did to him. We’ve all been going through the motions of life, waiting for you.”

  Hearing her side of the story seemed so surreal. For twelve years, he’d hated the mother he thought had abandoned him. Only to learn she was forced into it. “You wanted me?”

  “More than anything. From the moment I realized you were there.” She pressed a hand to her stomach.

  Ryler moved over beside her and hugged her. “You’re not angry that I didn’t tell you who I was sooner?”

  “I’m just glad you’re here. Welcome home, son.” She trembled, sobbing into his shoulder.

  A knock sounded. “Ma’am, the nurse is here.”

  “Give us a moment, then send her in.” Sylvie reluctantly pulled away from him, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.

  “Are you ill?”

  “I took the liberty of calling for a paternity test. Don’t worry. It doesn’t even require blood anymore. They stick some sort of swab in your mouth. And the results will be back in three days.”

  “Sounds painless enough.”

  She cupped his cheek in her hand. “For the record, I know exactly who you are, but this will ease everyone’s concerns and it wouldn’t hurt to have proof in hand in order to get your adoption records open so that you can claim the trust fund.”

  “But I don’t want the money.”

  “Well, it really doesn’t matter. It’s your money. Now don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, and prepare to be swabbed.” She patted his cheek. “So handsome. Just like your father.”

  A tap sounded on the door.

  “Come in.”

  The double doors opened and a nurse dressed in a scrub uniform entered.

  Why had a nurse been summoned? Unease grew in the pit of Shell’s stomach until she was as jittery as the sycamore leaves dropping from early June’s heatscorched trees. The rapidly darkening sky cooled the evening air only slightly.

  The door opened and she jumped up.

  Ryler looked as if the faint breeze could knock him over, but the hurt in his eyes had eased a bit.

  “You okay?”

  “I can’t believe you’re still here.”

  “I told you I’d stay.”

  He checked his watch. “But that was over an hour ago.”

  “Why did the nurse come?”

  “Paternity test.”

  “Sylvie doesn’t believe you.”

  “No,
she believes me, but she wants to make sure everyone else does.”

  “So, you didn’t see your father?”

  “No. She’s with him now, making up some excuse about strep throat so the nurse can get his DNA.” He took her elbow and steered her down the steps. “Let’s go.”

  “You’re ready?”

  “Sylvie wanted me to stay, but I need to process everything I learned.” He ran a shaky hand through his hair. “I can’t absorb anything else today.”

  “If you don’t mind me driving your SUV, you can relax on the ride home.”

  “Just what the doctor ordered. I never knew life could be so exhausting.”

  “Are you and Sylvie okay?”

  “We’re good and the test will come back in three days. We’re not telling anyone who I am until then.” He entwined his fingers with hers.

  “I’ve been wondering, will you go by Martin Jr. or Ryler?”

  “Definitely Ryler.”

  “Good. You don’t seem like Junior and Ryler is a really cool name.”

  As they climbed into his steamy vehicle, he punched the air-conditioning to blast off, and leaned his head back against the rest. “Thanks. I was named after my dad—the other one.”

  Shell concentrated on the traffic until they were out of the city limits, then stole a glance at him. Fast asleep.

  Despite the previous evening’s turmoil, Ryler had slept hard, and three cups of coffee later, he was still bleary-eyed.

  Why, Lord? He gripped the steering wheel harder, navigating the hills between Romance and Rose Bud without even thinking. Why did he feel so guilty? Torn between two families?

  The past didn’t matter now. It couldn’t be changed. He’d lean on God to see him through. And Shell.

  She cared about him. For whatever reason, she couldn’t bring herself to admit it, but he was almost certain she loved him.

  Flipping his blinker on, he waited for the oncoming vehicles to pass, then turned into the bed-and-breakfast. It was beginning to look like one, with sparkling glass in every window, fresh balcony railing, and newly painted pristine siding. With the exterior complete, a few finishing touches inside remained.

  The grounds were taking shape. Flowers and rosebushes flourished now, with only the front fountain and a few walkways left to finish.