Читать книгу Marriage Is Just The Beginning - Betty Sanders Jane - Страница 9

Three women answered his ad for an in-home baby-sitter.

Marcie, with long, blond hair hanging straight down her back. Black, shiny tights topped by a low-cut blouse showing far more than a hint of cleavage left nothing to the imagination. She had a disconcerting habit of leaning toward Grant, which he supposed was designed to raise his blood pressure. It did—not with lust but with anger. When she suggested it would be best for all if she moved in with them, he concluded the interview and walked her to the door, not bothering to have her meet Cassie.

A dull throb began in his brow.

Sandra was a quiet woman, with pale-gray eyes that seemed to match her spirit. She was in the process of going through a divorce and wasn’t sure how long she would remain in Valdez. It depended, she said, on whether she met another man soon, because she was not a woman who could live without a man in her life. Grant thanked her for coming, ushered her from the house without meeting Cassie and crossed his fingers that the next woman would be perfect.

The throb turned to a pounding.

Beth had six children, watched five others and needed to earn more money because her good-for-nothing exhusband was behind on child support once more. Though Grant felt the full impact of her imploring eyes, he thanked her, also, and explained that he would keep her in mind if he couldn’t find someone who would come to his home to care for Cassie. Cassie remained in her room, playing.

The pounding exploded into a full-blown headache that had him pinching the bridge of his nose as he settled back into the leather chair in the den.

“Did you find one?” Cassie asked from the doorway.

Grant shook his head as she crossed the room and crawled onto his lap. She tucked her head beneath his chin and the headache began to dim.

“Maybe Sharon would do it,” Cassie said in a small voice.

“Honey, Sharon has a job, remember? How would they run the bank without her?” Sharon would be perfect, he thought, tightening his arms slightly.

“Oh.”

Silence.

“I wish Mama didn’t the.”

Her voice was but a sad murmur that drove nails of guilt into his heart. “I know you do, pumpkin. So do I,” he finally answered in a harsh whisper. Then he squeezed her in a tight hug, as if able to protect her from all pain, past and future—an impossible task that made it all the more important.

They sat in silence in the heavy dusk of the room. Snow fell from gray clouds; thick, fat flakes captured in the frame of the window. Cassie snuggled closer to Grant. He held her close, heart aching with love, and wondered what he was going to do.

* * *

Grant’s anger filled Sharon’s kitchen in almost visible waves. He stormed from counter to counter, jaw clenched so tight she feared for his teeth. She was thankful that Cassie was playing with Brittany in the backyard, enjoying the six inches of new snow.

He turned and slapped Hugh’s letter on the table with a thump. “I can’t believe Hugh and Dorothy, that they have the nerve…” He swallowed as if to gain control. “I simply cannot believe they are doing this to me, to Cassie, after all that we’ve been through.” He ground the words through clenched teeth.

“Read it—read the damned thing.” He nearly flung the letter at her.

Sharon shook her head and pushed it away. “It’s not my letter to read,” she said. “Besides, I think you told me everything they said.”

“You’re right.”

He sighed, ran a hand through his hair, then slumped into a chair opposite her. Dark circles shadowed his glittering eyes. Sharon Wished with all her heart that something she could do or say would change matters.

He leaned toward her, eyes burning. “Don’t they understand I am trying…trying to find a damned sitter. And I don’t ask to go on business trips. I shouldn’t have to travel so much once, the project starts, just a few more months.” He closed his eyes briefly.

Sharon reached to clasp his large hand, which was clenched in a tight fist. He brought his gaze to hers and held it.

“They think they can provide a better, more stable home for Cassie. A better home for my daughter than I can provide. A muscle leaped in his jaw, then tightened.

Her heart ached for her friend. “I know you don’t want to hear this, Grant, but though misguided, they mean well,” she said softly. “They aren’t suggesting a change in custody to hurt you.”

He pulled his hand away to drum his fingers against the table, frowning.

“They love Cassie and only want what’s best for her, she added.

“And taking her from her father is best?” He nearly spit the words.

Sharon shook her head. “No, I don’t think so, but—”

Grant held a hand to stop her. “They want what can’t be had—their daughter back. And since that won’t happen, they want mine.” His voice grew harder as he spoke. “I’m not even sure having a sitter would matter. They would probably question the permanence. The only way to provide a foolproof solution—” he emphasized the words “—is for me to marry. And it will be a cold day in hell before that happens.”

“Grant, you won’t always feel that way. With time—”

“Time? To hell with time. To hell with Hugh and Dorothy. They want Cassie as replacement for Catherine, as payment because I took her from them and brought her back in a coffin.”

“No.” Sharon nearly shouted the word, frustrated and a little angry herself. Grant arched a brow. She continued, shaking her head. “You’re twisting this, distorting it, Grant. Hugh and Dorothy are not vindictive people—”

“Aren’t they? You weren’t there, didn’t see how they acted toward the end,” he shot back with an angry growl.

“Maybe they did act a little strange, but that is certainly understandable under the circumstances.” She paused. “You might have read more into it than was meant.” He snorted. She ignored him and continued. “There is no way I can really know, but I don’t think they are doing this to make life hard for you. If they’re guilty of anything, it’s of loving Cassie, and we are all guilty of that.”

“Are you defending them?” He glared at her.

“Only their right to care.” She glared back.

“You need to keep in mind that this is not about you or me or Hugh and Dorothy,” she finally said quietly. “It’s about Cassie and what is best for her.”

After a minute of silence. Grant dropped his gaze. He carefully folded the rumpled letter and slid it into his pocket. Then he looked at her. “I am sorry for losing my temper like that. It wasn’t fair to you,” he said quietly.

She reached out to cover his hand with hers again. A large hand that dwarfed hers in comparison. “Don’t be silly, Grant. We’re friends, and that’s all part of what friends are for. To be there to listen. You would do the same for me.”

He didn’t answer. Didn’t move a muscle.

“Maybe you should consider letting me care for Cassie on a permanent basis in the evenings when you’re gone. It might ease Hugh and Dorothy’s concerns. They’ve met me and know I love her. I’m certainly stable, don’t plan to be moving anywhere, and I’m not looking for marriage. She paused. He remained silent. “I won’t meet you at the door in anything sexier than a pair of sweats,” she added. “I promise.”

Grant half smiled, suddenly looking tired by the effort, then withdrew his hand to run it through his hair. “No. I won’t let you do that. This is my problem. I’ll solve it.”

“You can’t always—”

“Sharon.” Grant reached to cover her hands with his. A brief, friendly clasp. “You do far more for me than anyone can expect and I appreciate it. But I cannot allow you to take on the two of us on a permanent basis.”

She opened her mouth to argue, to say that she wanted to.

“No,” he said firmly.

And she knew he meant it.

* * *

Grant had to go to Anchorage for meetings, just overnight, but Cassie clung to him at the airport and sobbed as if she would never see him again.

“I have to go, Cass. You know that. I’ll be back tomorrow, I promise,” Grant repeated over and over again as he held his daughter.

His eyes glittered when they met Sharon’s, and he looked as if his heart were being ripped out. She felt as though hers was.

She reached to touch his arm. “She’ll be okay once you’re gone,” she said.

His eyes held her for one long minute. “I wouldn’t leave her if I didn’t know that And there’s no one I trust my daughter with more than you,” he said in a husky voice.

A sudden lump in Sharon’s throat prevented an answer. She silently squeezed Grant’s arm, then stepped back.

“I have got to go, Cass. The plane is getting ready to leave,” Grant whispered, and pressed one last kiss to her brow. His hands trembled as he handed the small girl to Sharon. Cassie wound her arms around Sharon’s neck, buried her face in her shoulder and sobbed.

“Goodbye,” Sharon murmured, and held Cassie’s trembling body as Grant strode out to the plane. She cajoled Cassie into watching as the plane lumbered across the runway, to turn and race forward, before finally climbing into the sky with a great roar. Cassie’s sobs quit, her tears drying on her cheeks.

“Shall we go home and see what Brittany is doing? Sharon asked.

Cassie nodded, then wiggled to be released. She slipped a small hand into Sharon’s hand. A hand that gripped Sharon’s heart, as well.

And there’s no one I trust my daughter with more than you.

Warmth washed through her, as she remembered Grant’s husky words. His trust, his friendship, was as precious a gift as Cassie’s love.

She glanced down at the top of Cassie’s head, at the slightly crooked part in the shiny black hair and the butterfly-shaped barrette at the top of each braid, and her heart swelled. She loved Cassie so much it sometimes frightened her. What was she going to do when Grant did remarry one day? And she had little doubt that eventually he would. A man with his looks, his resources. It wouldn’t…hadn’t taken long for women to notice. It was only a matter of time until Grant reciprocated the interest.

Would a new wife welcome or allow their friendship to continue? Would there be room for her in their lives?

She doubted it. And the thought of not having Cassie and Grant as part of her life was almost too painful to bear.

Grant met with an attorney while in Anchorage. The attorney confirmed that although there was always a chance he could lose Cassie, it was highly unlikely. At most, this challenge to his custody of Cassie would probably be an expensive inconvenience, something to worry at him like a splinter. With time it would go away. He advised Grant to talk to Hugh and Dorothy and come up with some way to set their minds at ease and avoid an unnecessary legal battle.

Hell, if he could do that, there wouldn’t be a problem.

A knot of tension tied itself permanently in his gut He snapped at his secretary, apologized, then snapped again. He made a list of his options, crossed things off, added them again, only to cross them off once more. Sitters. Nannies. A wife.

Sitters, not permanent. Nannies, unavailable in Valdez, and not permanent. And even if he found one in Anchorage, how long would she be happy living in Valdez, isolated by surrounding wilderness and sea?

He toyed with the idea of taking Sharon up on her offer, of hiring her to watch Cassie in the evenings while he was away. But…not only was that unfair to Sharon, it was not a permanent solution. Sharon had her own life to live, and one day she would marry and want a family of her own, and where would that leave them? Generous though her offer was, he could not accept it on a long-term basis.

The last option was a wife.

But he simply did not have the emotional resources to deal with a wife. The very thought sent chills along his spine.

The next day a letter from an attorney came express mail, an official demand for custody of Cassie from his in-laws. Grant opened the letter late evening, after Cassie was in bed.

Anger rose in him as he read, then fear. Even the tiniest of chances that he could lose Cassie overwhelmed him. And the sense of betrayal, of attack, from people he loved was incredibly painful. As well, he did not want to alienate Hugh and Dorothy, because Cassie loved her grandparents and they her. They had all suffered a tremendous loss and didn’t need to lose one another, as well.

A whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions spun in his head. Like a vortex of vibrant colors that did nothing more than whirl and spin and slam up against black solid walls of no answers.

The room seemed to shrink. He was suffocating. Choking. He fought the feeling, resisted it with every fiber of his being, until he finally had to rush through the house to the deck. Bitter cold greeted him; frozen fingers of winter gripped his bare skin. Biting, burning his lungs as he drew deep breaths to steady himself. He felt unable to ease the feeling of impending doom.

The phone rang, jerking him back into the house. Grant stiffened at the sound of Hugh’s voice, and he fought the urge either to slam the phone down or to unload the emotional turmoil that still churned in his gut.

“How about letting Cassie come stay with us for a while?” Hugh offered.

“You want custody of my daughter because I’m gone too much, yet you’re suggesting I send her down there, where I’ll hardly ever see her, for who knows how long? That makes a lot of sense.”

“And you going off and leaving her with a baby-sitter, a different one every few months is good?” Hugh’s voice rose.

“She’s my daughter, Hugh. Do you think I would do anything to harm her?” He took a deep breath. “You don’t have the right to do this, to hurt us more than we already have been. Cassie is my daughter. She belongs with me. His voice was low, hard. His heart pounded painfully in his chest.

“If you couldn’t keep a wife happy, what makes you think you can be a good parent?” Hugh cried.

“It’s time for this conversation to end, before we both say things we will only regret,” Grant answered quietly, suppressed anger knotting in his throat.

Hugh paused. “This isn’t about you or me, Grant. It’s about what is best for Cassie.”

“Is it?” Grant asked softly with a thread of steel in his voice. “Catherine is gone, Hugh. Cassie is not going to replace her. And until you decide to drop this lawsuit, we have nothing to discuss.”

His hand trembled when he hung up. He shut his eyes for one long minute, half expecting the phone to ring again, then slowly walked over to the window when it didn’t. The lights of the town burned below, throwing shadows on the snow that spread across lawns and roofs, so that it looked like a thick layer of winter butter.

If you couldn’t keep a wife happy, what makes you think you can be a good parent?

Hugh’s words returned. Unbidden. Unwanted.

Pain slammed through Grant, taking his breath away. His hands curled into fists as a wave of guilt followed. As the memory of Catherine’s unhappiness unrolled in his mind.

He’d tried. Oh, how he had tried.

And he had failed.

The words screamed through his mind, angry accusations from the past.

Head bowed, fists clenched, he fought the memory. What happened between he and Catherine had nothing— not one damned thing—to do with his being a good parent to Cassie. He slowly raised his head. Forced each finger to unfurl.

The only thing that mattered was what was best for Cassie.

That is all he wanted and worked so hard for. It would be easier if he could deny his absences did not have much impact on Cassie, but he couldn’t. The walls inched closer once again.

It would be easier if he could deny that Hugh’s concerns had some validity. He couldn’t.

Regardless, he would never give Cassie up. To anyone. He couldn’t quit his job—he had to work to be able to provide for his daughter. Baby-sitters and nannies weren’t the answer. He took a deep breath, then another and a third, as his mind circled the truth like a wary wolf a trap.

He needed to find a mother for Cassie. A wife.

As soon as possible.

The very thought chilled his soul.

* * *

“I have decided to get married,” Grant told Sharon the next evening over fresh-baked pie and coffee in her kitchen.

“Married?” she echoed, color draining from her face.

The darkness of her eyes, filled with shock, pulled at him. The shiny mass of dark red-brown curls that stopped at the curve of jaw made her skin seem even paler. Skin that would be soft to the touch.

He frowned and looked away.

A shout of laughter, the bark of a dog, drifted through the window from the backyard. Cassie was playing out back with Brittany.

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone,” Sharon finally said.

“I’m not.” Grant shoved his empty plate back, forced himself to look at her. “I am thinking…planning to run an ad in the Anchorage paper.”

Her mouth dropped open, then she snapped it shut “You’ve given up on finding a sitter,” she said flatly.

“Not permanent enough.”

“I see.” She slowly pushed her plate back. “Are you that worried about losing Cassie? I thought the attorney said—”

“It’s not just the custody suit. Cassie needs a mother and there is only one way I know to provide that,” he said grimly. “You yourself suggested I do something.”

“I suggested that you spend more time with your daughter, she said quietly. “And I also offered to watch Cassie for you.”

“Sharon, you know that I appreciate everything you do, everything that you have done for Cassie, but I need to find a permanent solution. And I can’t accept your offer. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

After a minute, she cleared her throat. “Why an ad, Grant? Why not marry someone you know, someone who cares at least a little about Cassie?” She continued before he could speak. “Maybe you should do something temporary. Let me watch her the way I offered and start dating. In time you’ll get over losing Catherine, Grant, and meet someone you can love again.”

Grant laughed, a harsh, humorless burst of sound. “If it wasn’t for Cassie, I would never marry again.” He slowly enunciated each cold word.

Sharon’s eyes widened. She opened her mouth as if to argue, then closed it.

He chose his words carefully. “This is going to be a business deal only, with a contract up front, a salary and a bonus for completion.”

Sharon slowly shook her head.

“It’s no different from hiring a sitter or a nanny,” he argued. “You know as well as I that if I hired a live-in, half the town would have us involved or at least in bed with each other unless she was ninety-five and in a wheelchair, and maybe even then. At least if I contract someone for marriage, she’ll know up front exactly what I expect. There will be no emotional involvement or expectation between us. And no one, not Hugh or Dorothy or anyone else, can find fault with the situation.”

“You can’t pay someone to love Cassie,” she said quietly.

“I would hope they would come to love her.” He sighed, suddenly tired. “I have to do this, Sharon. It’s not a perfect solution, a perfect world, but there isn’t a thing I can do about that.”

Sharon tossed and turned, squeezed her eyes shut, tried to force sleep—and finally gave up. The digital letters on the clock confirmed that it was four in the morning. Brittany burrowed deeper on the blankets and watched with sleepy eyes as Sharon pulled on a pair of worn sweats. At least it was Saturday, so she could nap later.

The thoughts that had haunted her throughout the night returned full force. Grant was going to marry. She closed her eyes briefly. Brittany trotted at her heels as Sharon headed for the kitchen, badly in need of a cup of coffee. Cold air greeted her as she shooed the sleepy pup out into the backyard, then turned toward the coffeepot.

I have decided to get married.

The words seemed to shriek through her mind, through the silence of the winter’s early morning, as a layer of dark quiet and frigid temperatures covered Alaska like a thick, impenetrable quilt. Exhausted from a sleepless night, she told herself for about the ten-millionth time that she was overreacting. The coffeepot choked and gargled. Brittany barked, then shook snow from herself when Sharon let her in.

It’s not a perfect solution, a perfect world, but there isn’t a thing I can do about that.

Although she well knew that, Grant’s words still caused her heart to ache. In a perfect world she would not have gotten the infection that had hospitalized her just months after getting married, then had kept her flat on her back in bed for three weeks at home, leaving her so badly scarred internally that she was unable to give her husband the children they both so desperately wanted. In a perfect world Charley would not have stopped loving her because of it, would not have left her for a pregnant girlfriend who happened to be Sharon’s best friend. Catherine wouldn’t have gotten ill. The list could go on.

She poured a cup of coffee, wandered into the living room to pull the drapes, then curled on the love seat to watch as snow drifted to the ground. Brittany curled next to her, chin resting on Sharon’s ankle.

In a perfect world, she would have been pretty enough to catch Grant’s interest and they would have fallen in love. Instead, she’d had to endure their high school years, watching Grant date the prettiest girls while she went unnoticed. By college, she had reconciled herself to the fact that she and Grant would be nothing more than friends. Yet when he had brought Catherine home to meet the family, then married the sophisticated, beautiful blonde, Sharon had been shattered with a sense of loss.

And now he was doing it to her again. Marrying another woman.

Why not me? The thought welled up from within, so strong and unexpected that Sharon nearly sputtered taking a sip of coffee.

Don’t be ridiculous, she told herself. She was not feeling sorry for herself, but unless something miraculous happened to her overnight, Grant would be no-more interested in marrying her than he would a—

She put the coffee cup on the end table with shaking hands.

Grant was going to marry a stranger, without emotional commitment. Why wouldn’t he marry her?

Why would she want him to?

Cassie. The answer whispered through her mind with a sense of rightness. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. She wasn’t asking for an emotional commitment. By marrying Grant, she would become a mother to a little girl she loved dearly.

Mother. She closed her eyes at the rush of emotion that simple word brought. Something she had always wanted and would never have. It wouldn’t matter that she couldn’t have children, because intimacy would not be part of the bargain.

And she would not lose Grant again.

You have lost your marbles, she told herself sternly.

And then began planning what she was going to say to convince Grant that she hadn’t.

By the time the sun finally filtered thin light through the clouds, the coffeepot was drained and Sharon had nearly paced a path in the living room carpet. She glared at the clock as if it were a mortal enemy, paced some more, then glared at the clock again.

When it struck ten, she gathered courage and reached for the phone to dial Grant’s number with trembling fingers. A quick trip to the store for muffins, and fifteen minutes later she and Brittany pulled into Grant’s snowblown driveway.

Cassie met them at the door, bundled in brilliant-red snow pants and jacket. “Daddy said I could play outside with Brittany. Is that okay? Please, Sharon?” Her eyes pleaded unnecessarily.

“Keep her leash on, and look out for cars.” Sharon paused to watch as the little girl clambered up the snowbank and into the empty lot next door, Brittany bouncing at her side. The two were vivid splashes of color in motion against blinding white.

She turned, entered the house and slowly closed the door. She swallowed hard, fighting a sudden urge to spin around and run as fast as she could before it was too late.

“In here,” Grant shouted from the kitchen.

“Coffee?” he offered as she entered the brightly lit room.

“Milk would be better,” she answered. She lifted the bag she carried. “Muffin? I got poppy seed.”

He grinned. Her pulse leaped.

Nerves, she told herself as she shrugged out of her jacket and settled at the table. A minute later, Grant sank into a chair opposite, steam rising from the dark, rich liquid in his cup, golden muffins on a plate between them.

“So,” he said after a large swallow of coffee. “What did you need to talk about?”

Whiskers shadowed his lean jaw, and his eyes captured and held her as though she were under a spell. Her throat dried. She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t find the breath to push words out. Could not find the words, period.

“You okay?” Grant arched a brow.

Heat flooded her face. She quickly nodded, grabbed her glass of milk as if it were a lifeline and took a swallow. Carefully setting the glass aside, she took a deep breath as Grant lifted his cup.

“I am answering your ad,” she said.

He sputtered, spilling coffee down the front of his T-shirt. Sharon gasped. Grant sprang to his feet, ripped off the shirt and grabbed a dish towel. He mopped the front of his chest and glared at her.

One look at his broad, well-muscled chest covered with thick, black curly hair and Sharon jerked her gaze to his face and kept it there, heart and pulse racing.

“My ad?” he asked softly.

She lifted her chin slightly and tried to still her pounding pulse and heart. “Yes, your ad. I think we should get married.”

He froze, dropping the towel to his side.

They stared at each other, gazes locked. Grant’s eyes were without a trace of expression. Sharon was filled with shock that she’d actually said the words. But now that they were out her resolve strengthened, even as she mentally cringed from his reaction.

“Why in the hell would you want to marry me?” His words were carefully enunciated. His eyes wary. He dropped into his chair.

“You can quit looking as if you think I am going to leap across the table and try to have my way with you. I’m not one of your past baby-sitters,” she said, heat filling her cheeks. “It’s not you I want…I mean…not in that way…it’s Cassie. I love Cassie and I don’t want to lose her, and regardless of what you say, if you marry someone I will lose her. I don’t think I could bear that, Grant.”

“Aren’t you over—”

“No,” she cried, suddenly impatient.

“Let me get this straight. You love Cassie so much that you’ll enter a loveless marriage with me? Are you listening to yourself, Sharon? That is nuts!”

Sharon lifted her chin a notch, eyes narrowing. “Says the man who is planning to marry a total stranger. One he’s going to advertise for in the paper and purchase. Grant, finding a wife isn’t like getting a puppy.”

He flushed as his jaw tensed. “I wasn’t planning on using the pet section. And I thought I made it perfectly clear that I’m doing this for Cassie.”

“Well, so am I. Is it so hard to believe I could love your daughter as much as you? Think about it—”

“No.” He shook his head emphatically.

“Why not?” She balled her hands.

“Because you should be marrying some guy you love and having children of your own-—that’s why. You’ve always wanted a large family.” Grant bit out the words. “I have nothing to offer you—”

“Except Cassie, a little girl I already love as if she were my own.” Sharon took a deep breath to calm her racing emotions. “I’m not asking you for more than that Grant. She paused, then added quietly, “I’m not asking for your love, only your friendship.”

Grant just stared at her. She swallowed hard, then continued. “After Charley left me, I swore I would never marry again.”

“You’ll change your mind in time,” he said in a low voice.

“No, I won’t, and you have no right assuming you know my mind better than I do. I haven’t accepted a date since the divorce, and that’s been a few years. As hard as it may be to believe, it’s not as though I haven’t been asked, as if I haven’t been offered opportunities.”

“Of course you have,” he said quietly.

She leaned toward Grant as if leaning against the tide, not certain it would make a difference but hoping to shorten the distance between them. “My only regret with my decision is that I don’t have a family.”

She almost told him more, but stopped. The last thing she wanted was Grant agreeing to marry her out of pity. Poor Sharon, who can’t have children. She couldn’t bear that.

Grant remained silent, frowning slightly.

“This is my opportunity to have that family,” she added quietly.

He shook his head.

“Please think about it,” she urged. “I know you don’t want any emotional involvement, so why can’t you believe that I would feel the same way? Grant, can you truly say that Cassie would be better off if you married a total stranger rather than someone she already knows and loves? Someone who loves her as much as I do?”

His dark eyes probed her as if trying to see into her mind. Her heart. She prayed he would give the idea a chance.

“It’s no great secret that I care for you very much, but only as a friend. I’m not carrying a torch of unrequited love, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Sharon added, quickly trying to second-guess any argument he might have. Honesty prompted her to add, “I know you were thinking about a full-time mother, but I would want to continue to work. Cassie could go to day care during the day. She needs to be with kids her own age, and she enjoys the other children, when she isn’t fighting with them.”

Grant half smiled. Hope blossomed in Sharon’s heart.

She pressed on, willing him to listen, to understand and to concede. “I think if you give this some thought, you will see that it makes perfect sense. We have been friends forever and we still get along, something lots of married folks can’t say. Neither of us wants to be married, but both of us wants the best for Cassie. You want a mother and I want a daughter.” She paused, then said softly, “It sounds like the perfect solution to me.”

Grant sat alone in the family room. A log cracked in the fireplace—a loud, popping noise—as flames licked along its side, fueled by bright orange coals beneath. The house settled a bit with a groan, not unlike an old man whose bones protested as he burrowed a little deeper beneath the covers. Except the house settled under a blanket of snow that had fallen steadily throughout the day and was only now starting to slacken.

All around him was darkness, except for the dancing, flickering light from the fire, which cast an orange-yellow glow that didn’t quite penetrate the shadows. The clock on the mantel chimed twelve times with a solid certainty that Grant suddenly envied. Cassie had long since been tucked into bed, lost to the land of sleep and dreams. A land Grant wouldn’t mind visiting himself…if only he could.

It sounds like the perfect solution to me.

Sharon’s words haunted him, as they had since she’d uttered them, before she’d calmly walked from his kitchen to allow him to think about her offer.

He shouldn’t need to think, should be able to dismiss the proposal as if it had never been spoken. But he couldn’t. Arguments piled in his mind like the snow outside, and remained there because he could not refute the truth. If he viewed the situation coldly and objectively, her proposal did sound like the perfect solution.

If Sharon truly meant that she didn’t want to marry for love, did not want any emotional involvement. And he had no reason to think she was lying. She had always been honest with him in the past.

Why, then, would she want to marry him? She was far too young and attractive, warmhearted and giving, to tie herself to a man who would never offer her children of her own, never offer her a true marriage. A man who was not capable of loving again.