His One and Only Bride

by Tara Randel

  Glowing headlights angled into the parking lot. The vehicle headed their way.

  “That’s my ride.”

  She squinted, trying to recognize the car and driver.

  “Uber,” Mitch told her.

  “Okay,” she said. “Thanks again, Mitch, for helping out tonight.”

  “I’ll call you when I’ve edited the images. Hopefully I captured what you wanted.”

  “I’m sure you did.”

  “Good night.” Mitch opened the car door and nodded over the roof. “I’ll wait until you take off.”

  “Good night.”

  Keys in hand, Zoe swiftly walked to her car and slid inside. Surprised her fingers were trembling, she started the ignition and put the car in gear. She crossed the parking lot, the headlights behind her until she turned left to head home, the car with Mitch heading in the opposite direction. She blew out a breath, wondering at her shaky condition. Was it the walk down memory lane? The kiss? Mitch reminding her to ease off trying to help him get better?

  All three, but mostly the kiss.

  What had she been thinking to let him kiss her? Okay, she’d been curious. Mitch was right—there was still a spark there. Boy, was there a spark.

  Still, until she knew for sure what Mitch’s intentions were, she had to keep their relationship on hold. Once he was healthy and sure about what road he wanted to travel down, she’d decide to pursue this...kissing or file the already drawn-up divorce papers. She didn’t want to put pressure on Mitch, but their future was in his court.

  Ugh. Basketball term. Now she had visions of a younger Mitch running back and forth across the gymnasium floor, racking up the points. Truth be told, she found this mature version of Mitch much more arresting. Why? Was it the way he conducted himself now, as if his actions mattered? Or the scars that were now a part of him? Could she call it...character? Only time would tell.

  She turned down Main Street on her journey home. The few restaurants that stayed open late were dark, along with most of the other businesses. Even the lights at Charming Delights Catering were off, indicating Jenna had headed home. Just how long had she let Mitch sidetrack her?

  At least she’d discovered one thing tonight. She had to stop putting her foot in her mouth when it came to conversations with him. Her purpose was never to hurt him, yet she seemed to do so on a regular basis. She’d be dealing with him professionally now and needed her wits about her.

  Before turning off Main, her eyes lit on an office space at the end of a block. She blinked, then the wheels in her head started turning. A plan formulated. Her lips curved in satisfaction.

  After some research, she’d approach Mitch. He might not be on board, nor willing to make more changes in his uncertain future, but she had to try. That’s what she did, right? Help people? Whatever his answer, she’d get a better idea if he was really planning on sticking around Cypress Pointe. Because the longer he remained in town, the more she needed answers. For both her sake and Leo’s.

  Besides, he’d done something nice tonight by bidding on the spa day for her. Wasn’t it right to return the favor?

  Chapter Ten

  “SURPRISE,” ZOE SANG out after she’d unlocked the front door of a downtown building just a few days later. Leo, nestled on her hip, chattered in a language only he understood. She juggled their son and diaper bag with practiced ease while she flicked on light switches after leading her husband inside.

  Mitch moved slowly. Curiously glanced around.

  Today, he’d met her at the old photography studio on Main Street dressed in a navy polo shirt and a pair of jeans, most notably without the cane. Was he finally on the mend? It was all Zoe could do not to ask. With reason. He’d been much too quiet the last time he’d stopped by the house to visit Leo. She wasn’t sure if he was preoccupied or having trouble with his therapy. She ought to be thrilled by the lack of a cane, but the stronger he became, the less sure she was about their future. Either way, she couldn’t miss the back-off vibes radiating from him whenever he sensed she was going to question him.

  “It’s a portrait studio.” Zoe stated the obvious after trying to control her nervousness.

  “I can see that.” He tucked his sunglasses into the neck of his shirt and walked to an area set up with a backdrop screen and a stool placed on a large square of carpet. Lighting equipment lined a wall. A large reflective umbrella took up another corner. “Why are we here?”

  “Mr. Haynes is retiring.”

  The only in-town photographer, the older man was eighty if he was a day. While his mind was still sharp, his body had slowed. His retirement had given Zoe a perfect opportunity to help get Mitch back on his feet.

  “That’s nice for him but doesn’t explain the field trip.”

  Zoe bit her lower lip. Oh, boy. This was going to be tricky. She really should have planned this better, but when she’d come up with the idea while driving home from the fund-raiser, it had seemed solid.

  “You worked here a couple of summers when we were growing up.”

  “Sure. It was a great experience.” His voice carried over his shoulder as he checked out the equipment.

  She took a breath. Hugged Leo closer. He let out a squeak and she loosened her hold. “I talked to him about the possibility of you taking over.”

  “Taking over what?”

  “His business.”

  Mitch turned on his heel to face her, shock etched on his face. “You did what?”

  “You seemed to be making progress by taking pictures at the beach, then at the fund-raiser. Why not take it a step further and run this place?”

  “Because I’m not a portrait photographer.”

  She frowned. “I don’t understand. You take pictures of people everywhere you go.”

  The shock slowly turned to irritation. His tone, when he finally spoke, was exasperated. “Yes, to tell a story. That’s what a photojournalist does.”

  “You don’t have to talk to me like I’m in the first grade.”

  “And you know the difference between working in a studio and out in the field.”

  Leo squirmed, picking up on the tension. Zoe lowered him to the floor, using the break in the conversation to come up with another tactic. Her son plopped on his bottom, then grabbed her pant leg to lug himself up, eager to explore the brand new world around him.

  “You’re right. I do know the difference.” Zoe set the diaper bag on the floor beside her. Smoothed the flowing shirt she’d thought was pretty and feminine, and wondered why she’d bothered. By the glare aimed at her, he wasn’t going to notice her carefully selected outfit. “To be honest, I always felt candid shots were your strong point. No matter the backdrop.”

  He moved around the room, his steps purposeful, yet stilted. Had he been too hasty in giving up the cane?

  “You could set your own hours,” she went on. “And you don’t always have to be closed up inside. Mr. Haynes also did weddings, outdoor graduation shots, birthday parties. With a little creativity, you could carve out a niche for yourself.”

  “If I wanted to stay in Cypress Pointe, you mean?”

  She’d come prepared for this argument. “You said yourself you can’t predict the outcome concerning your health. How it will impact your career. If you take over the studio, it gives you time to get well. No need to rush into your next step. And as an added bonus, you’ll be able to spend time with Leo.”

  At the mention of his name, Leo looked up from a small basket of animals Zoe assumed Mr. Haynes used to distract his younger subjects. Leo garbled a few words, then went back to work, tossing anything of little interest onto the linoleum floor around him.

  Mitch circled the room before stopping to stare out the large front window with Haynes Photo Studio emblazoned across the glass in gold leaf. Though he stood perfectly still, he lifted a hand to rub his temple. Swayed momentarily
.

  “Mitch?”

  Squaring his shoulders, he turned. “You should have talked to me about this, Zoe.”

  “I am. Now.”

  “And I suppose Mr. Haynes is waiting for an answer?”

  “Well, um, I kind of implied you’d be interested.”

  His eyes went wide. “Why would you do that?”

  “To help you.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not one of your charity projects, Zoe. I can make my own decisions.”

  “I know. But when I talked to Mr. Haynes he was getting ready to put the business up for sale. I wanted you to get first dibs.”

  “Again, you should have asked if I’m even interested.”

  “It’s not like you have other plans.”

  “That you’re aware of,” he said, voice tight.

  Her confidence slipped. “You have other plans?”

  “What does it matter if I do? You never asked.” He shook his head. “The only thing we seem to have in common right now is our son.”

  “Who needs his father in his life.” She hesitated to take a step toward him. “I know things were difficult when you left. But, Mitch, we thought you were dead.” Her voice caught. She looked down at her son, carrying on a conversation with a stuffed dog. “I thought Leo would grow up without knowing you. That the only way he’d learn about his dad was through family stories and seeing your work when he grew up. But you’re here. That changes everything.”

  Okay, this wasn’t going well. She hadn’t been one hundred percent certain that Mitch would be on board, but she’d hoped for a little less friction at the idea. Time to bring in the big guns.

  She lifted Leo and set him on the stool, steadying him with her hands braced at his waist. He glanced around the room from his new vantage point, sending his father a gummy grin as he bounced in place.

  “Don’t you think kids make the perfect subject? Think about the families who come in here, wanting a lasting memory. You can give it to them.”

  “I memorialize people whose pictures I take for a story.”

  “But you don’t know them. You don’t have a personal connection.”

  “Really? You know this because you’ve always been so tuned in to what I do?”

  She frowned. “What do you mean? You’ve always wanted to take pictures.”

  “Maybe you aren’t the only one who thought their work could make a difference.”

  “When did... I never...”

  “That’s right. You never asked. You always just assumed you were the only one in this relationship to do any good deeds.”

  Her chin rose. “Don’t put this on me. You couldn’t wait to get out of town and take pictures of the world.”

  “Yes. But somewhere along the way, it became about more.”

  She blinked. When had this happened? Had she been wrapped up in her causes, in her perceived hurt, that she’d missed this? Or had she ignored it so she could use the disappointment of not being able to have a baby to keep him at arm’s length? Is that what he’d meant when he’d said she wasn’t the only altruistic one in the family?

  Leo started to babble, holding his arms out to Mitch. Taking a few steps to close the gap, Mitch gripped his son’s small hand in his. Leo filled in the silence between them, his very presence the last conduit linking them.

  “You’re not playing fair, Zoe, using Leo to make your pitch.”

  “Why shouldn’t I? Your decisions affect Leo as much as they do me.”

  “Does this big idea mean you want us to get back together? If I stay in town, we’ll work on our marriage?”

  After that kiss the other night, that’s all she’d been able to think about. Them, together. It felt comfortable. But was it right if the core problems between them still existed?

  “This is a good way to find out where we stand,” she hedged.

  “I get it. If I take over the studio and stay in Cypress Pointe, then our marriage might be saved. But what if I decide to travel? Pick up where I left off? Just because you don’t want to leave town doesn’t mean I have to stay.”

  She bit her lip again. “I simply want to give our family a fighting chance.”

  “No. You want to make sure I remain in Cypress Pointe. I understand that you like to get things done. Be in control. But I have to say, I really don’t like this side of you, Zoe.”

  He bent over Leo, kissed him on the top of his head and met her gaze over their son.

  Shame. That’s what she felt. Were his words true? Was she really such a bad person to want her family in one place? All the years of taking care of her mother when she was younger, the day-to-day uncertainty of life, had left its mark on her. The fears after the bank robbery had stymied her. She wanted—no, needed—to take care of every situation, because she’d always been the only one she could count on. She’d discovered if she took a problem by the horns, she could figure out a way to solve it. But had she stepped over the line with Mitch today? Forever? She didn’t know anymore.

  “You need to decide what you really want,” he said, giving Leo another kiss before leaving the building.

  * * *

  MITCH MADE IT as far as a wooden bench a block away from the studio before the dizziness leveled him. Clutching the back, he eased his way around the bench and sank down. His head pounded. Closing his eyes usually gave him solace, except today when it made the swirling worse. His stomach rebelled and the steadying breaths his therapist suggested he use during times of extreme stress didn’t help. He silently prayed he didn’t throw up on the spot.

  “You doin’ okay there, son?”

  Mitch gently moved his head upward. Bob Gardener, the town police chief, stood before him, blocking out the stabbing rays of the late morning sun.

  “Forgot my sunglasses,” he said in way of explanation.

  “They’re right there in your shirt,” the chief pointed out.

  Right. He yanked them from the collar and slipped them over his nose.

  “That sunshine can be a real pain,” the chief said.

  Literally, in his case.

  “Need me to get you anything? Water? A ride home? An ear?”

  Mitch frowned. “I have a therapist, thank you.”

  The chief chuckled. “Yeah, but that therapist hasn’t known you as long as I have.”

  Right now, all Mitch wanted was to sit on Wyatt’s back porch—away from the stress and obligations of life that tended to make him irritable when things got out of hand, or made him physically sick.

  Bob lowered himself onto the bench beside Mitch. “Listenin’ comes with the job.”

  “Is that what you call it?”

  The chief chuckled again.

  “Sorry.”

  “Been around guys sufferin’ from head injuries. No offense taken.”

  Mitch chanced a look. When his stomach didn’t revolt, he began to calm down. “Where have you been around men with brain injuries?”

  “At the VFW. Lots of stories about guys coming back home after combat, tryin’ to get on with life. You aren’t alone.”

  “Those guys were injured in the military.”

  Bob shrugged. “Don’t matter where it happened. Same struggles.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “One day at a time.”

  “Which would be easy if I knew what to expect on any given day.”

  Down the street, a car revved its motor, pulled onto Main and promptly slowed when the driver got a glimpse of the chief.

  Bob nodded his head in Mitch’s direction. “No cane?”

  “I’m trying to depend on it less.”

  “Leg stronger?”

  “Yes, but the cane’s for balance. Still having trouble in that area.”

  “Along with your wife?”

  Mitch narrowed his
eyes. “What are you up to?”

  “Lookin’ out for you at a friend’s request.”

  Anger surged through him. “You can tell Zoe to stop managing me.”

  “Not Zoe.”

  “Then who?”

  “Samantha.”

  Zoe’s mom? He frowned. “I didn’t realize she was concerned enough to get local law enforcement involved.”

  “She knows you’re prickly about talkin’ things through. Thought another man might be easier to confide in.”

  “Is everybody in town privy to my private business?”

  “Just family, far as I know.”

  Great. It was bad enough Zoe was trying to guilt him into sticking around. Before he knew it, his father would drop by one day and want to “talk about their feelings.” He shuddered at the thought.

  “No pressure. You know where I am.”

  “At Samantha’s?” Mitch asked with a sudden glimmer of insight.

  Bob cleared his throat.

  “I thought she was acting weird. I noticed her talking on the phone when I visited Leo, giggling like a teen.”

  “Giggling?” the chief asked with interest.

  Now it was Mitch’s turn to chuckle. “How long?”

  “About six months.”

  His brow rose. “I take it Zoe doesn’t know?”

  “Her mother would like to keep us a secret right now.”

  “Why?”

  “Not real sure. I’d announce it to the entire town if I had my way.”

  The only thing Mitch knew about the chief’s personal life was that he’d been a widower for a very long time. And Samantha had never been serious about a man, at least in the time Mitch had known her. In an odd way, he could see them as a couple.

  “Good luck breaking the news to Zoe,” Mitch said.

  “You’d think the girl would be happy for her mother.”

  “They have...issues.”

  “And Zoe’s technically my boss.”

  A reluctant grin tugged at the corner of Mitch’s lips. “Funny how life turns out.”