Читать книгу Detective Barelli's Legendary Triplets - Melissa Senate - Страница 11

Chapter Two

“I’m sure we’re not really married!” Norah said on a high-pitched squeak, the top sheet wrapped around her as she stood—completely freaked out—against the wall of her bedroom, staring at the strange man in her bed.

A man who, according to the wedding ring on her left hand—and the one on his—was her husband.

She’d pretended to be asleep when he’d first started stirring. He’d bolted upright and she could feel him staring at her. She couldn’t just lie there and pretend to be asleep any longer, even if she was afraid to open her eyes and face the music.

But a thought burst into her brain and she’d sat up, too: she’d forgotten to pick up the triplets. As her aunt’s words had come back to her, that Cheyenne didn’t expect her to pick up the babies last night, that she’d take them to the diner this morning, Norah had calmed down. And slowly had opened her eyes. The sight of the stranger awake and staring at her had her leaping out of bed, taking the sheet with her. She was in a camisole and underwear.

Oh God, had they...?

She stared at Reed. In her bed. “Did we?” she croaked out.

He half shrugged. “I don’t know. Sorry. I don’t think so, though.”

“The punch was spiked?”

“Someone’s idea of a joke, maybe.”

“And now we’re married,” she said. “Ha ha.”

His gaze went to the band of gold on his finger, then back at her. “I’m sure we can undo that. The couple who married us—they seemed to know both of us. Why would they have let us get married when we were so drunk?”

Now it was her turn to shrug. She’d known Annie since she was born. The woman had waitressed on and off at her family’s pie diner for years to make extra cash. How could she have let Norah do such a thing? Why hadn’t Annie called her mother or aunt or sister and said, Come get Norah, she’s drunk off her butt and trying to marry a total stranger? It made no sense that Annie hadn’t done just that!

“She seemed to know you, too,” Norah said, wishing she had a cup of coffee. And two Tylenol.

“I spent summers in Wedlock Creek with my grandmother when I was a kid,” he said. “Annie may have known my grandmother. Do the Potterowskis live near the chapel? Maybe we can head over now and get this straightened out. I’m sure Annie hasn’t sent in the marriage license yet.”

“Right!” Norah said, brightening, tightening the sheet around her. “We can undo this! Let’s go!”

He glanced at his pile of clothes on the floor beside the bed. “I’ll go into the bathroom and get dressed.” He stood, wearing nothing but incredibly sexy black boxer briefs. He picked up the pile and booked into the bathroom, shutting the door.

She heard the water run, then shut off. A few minutes later the door opened and there he was, dressed like Fabio from last night.

She rushed over to her dresser, grabbed jeans and a T-shirt and fresh underwear, then sped past him into the bathroom, her heart beating like a bullet train. She quickly washed her face and brushed her teeth, got dressed and stepped back outside.

Reed was sitting in the chair in the corner, his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. How could he look so handsome when he was so rumpled, his hair all mussed? He was slowly shaking his head as if trying to make sense of this.

“So you always wanted to be a secret service agent?” she asked to break the awkward silence.

He sat up and offered something of a smile. “I have no idea why I said that. I’ve always wanted to be a cop. I start at the Wedlock Creek PD on Monday. Guess you’re not a flight attendant,” he added.

“I’ve never been out of Wyoming,” she said. “I bake for my family’s pie diner.” That was all she’d ever wanted to do. Work for the family business and perfect her savory pies, her specialty.

The diner had her thinking of real life again, Bella’s, Bea’s and Brody’s beautiful little faces coming to mind. She missed them and needed to see them, needed to hold them. And she had to get to the diner and let her family know she was all right. She hadn’t called once to check in on the triplets last night. Her mom and aunt had probably mentioned that every hour on the hour. No call from Norah? Huh. Must be having a good time. Then looking at each other and saying Not in unison, bursting into laughter and sobering up fast, wondering what could have happened to her to prevent her from calling every other minute to make sure all was well with the babies.

Her phone hadn’t rung last night, so maybe they’d just thought she’d met up with old friends and was having fun. She glanced at her alarm clock on the bedside table. It was barely six o’clock. She wouldn’t be expected at the diner until seven.

Reed was looking at the photo next to the clock. The one of her and her triplets taken moments after they were born. He didn’t say a word, but she knew what he was thinking. Anyone would. Help me. Get me out of this. What the hell have I done? Triplets? Ahhhhh! She was surprised he didn’t have his hands on his screaming face like the kid from the movie Home Alone.

Well, one thing Norah Ingalls was good at? Taking care of business. “Let’s go see Annie and Abe,” she said. “They wake up at the crack of dawn, so I’m sure they’ll be up.”

His gaze snapped back to hers. “Good idea. We can catch them before they send the marriage license into the state bureau for processing.”

“Right. It’s not like we’re really married. I mean, it’s not legal.”

He nodded. “We could undo this before 7:00 a.m. and get back to our lives,” he said.

This was definitely not her life.

* * *

Norah poked her head out the front door of her house, which, thank heavens, was blocked on both sides by big leafy trees. The last thing she needed was for all of Wedlock Creek to know a man had been spotted leaving her house at six in the morning. Norah lived around the corner from Main Street and just a few minutes’ walk to the diner, but the chapel was a good half mile in the other direction.

“Let’s take the parallel road so no one sees us,” she said. “I’m sure you don’t want to be the center of gossip before you even start your first day at the police station.”

“I definitely don’t,” he said.

They ducked down a side street with backyards to the left and the woods and river to the right. At this early hour, no one was out yet. The Potterowskis lived in the caretaker’s cottage to the right of the chapel. Norah dashed up the steps to the side door and could see eighty-one-year-old Annie in a long, pink chenille bathrobe, sitting down with tea and toast. She rang the bell.

Annie came to the door and beamed at the newlyweds. “Norah! Didn’t expect to see you out and about so early. Shouldn’t you be on your honeymoon?” Annie peered behind Norah and spied Reed. “Ah, there you are, handsome devil. Come on in, you two. I just made a pot of coffee.”

How could the woman be so calm? Or act like their getting married was no big deal?

Norah and Reed came in but didn’t sit. “Annie,” Norah said, “the two of us were the victims of spiked punch at the festival last night! We were drunk out of our minds. You had to know that!”

Annie tilted her head, her short, wiry, silver curls bouncing. “Drunk? Why, I don’t recall seeing you two acting all nutty and, trust me, we get our share of drunk couples and turn them away.”

Norah narrowed her eyes. There was no way Annie hadn’t known she was drunk out of her mind! “Annie, why would I up and marry a total stranger out of the blue? Didn’t that seem weird?”

“But Reed isn’t a stranger,” Annie said, sipping her coffee. “I heard he was back in town to work at the PD.” She turned to him. “I remember you when you were a boy. I knew your grandmother Lydia Barelli. We were dear friends from way back. Oh, how I remember her hoping you’d come live in Wedlock Creek. I suppose now you’ll move to the ranch like she always dreamed.”

Reed raised an eyebrow. “I’ve rented a house right in town. I loved my grandmother dearly, but she was trying to bribe me into getting married and starting a family. I had her number, all right.” He smiled at Annie, but his chin was lifted. The detective was clearly assessing the situation.

Annie waved her hand dismissively. “Well, bribe or not, you’re married. Your dear grandmother’s last will and testament leaves you the ranch when you marry. So now you can take your rightful inheritance.”

Norah glanced from Annie to Reed. What was all this about a ranch and an inheritance? If Reed had intended to find some drunk fool to marry to satisfy the terms and get his ranch, why would he have rented a house his first day in town?

The detective crossed his arms over his chest. “I have no intention of moving to the ranch, Annie.”

“Oh, hogwash!” Annie said, waving her piece of toast. “You’re married and that’s it. You should move to the ranch like your grandmamma intended, and poor Norah here will have a father for the triplets.”

Good golly. Watch out for little old ladies with secret agendas. Annie Potterowski had hoodwinked them both!

Norah watched Reed swallow. And felt her cheeks burn.

“Annie,” Norah said, hands on hips. “You did know we were drunk! You let us marry anyway!”

“For your own good,” Annie said. “Both of you. But I didn’t lure you two here. I didn’t spike the punch. You came in here of your own free will. I just didn’t stop you.”

“Can’t you arrest her for this?” Norah said to Reed, narrowing her eyes at Annie again.

Annie’s eyes widened. “I hope you get a chance to leave town and go somewhere exotic for your honeymoon,” she said, clearly trying to change the subject from her subterfuge. “New York City maybe. Or how about Paris? It’s so romantic.”

Norah threw up her hands. “She actually thinks this is reasonable!”

“Annie, come on,” Reed said. “We’re not really married. A little too much spiked punch, a wedding chapel right in our path, no waiting period required—a recipe for disaster and we walked right into it. We’re here to get back the marriage license. Surely you haven’t sent it in.”

“We’ll just rip it up and be on our way,” Norah said, glancing at her watch.

“Oh dear. I’m sorry, but that’s impossible,” Annie said. “I sent Abe to the county courthouse in Brewer about twenty minutes ago. I’m afraid your marriage license—and the sixteen others from yesterday—are well on their way to being deposited. There’s a mail slot right in front of the building. Of course, it’s Sunday and they’re closed, so I reckon you won’t be able to drive over to try to get it back.”

Reed was staring at Annie with total confusion on his face. “Well, we’ll have to do something at some point.”

“Yeah,” Norah agreed, her head spinning. Between all the spiked punch and the surprise this morning of the wedding rings, and now what appeared to be this crazy scheme of Annie’s to not undo what she’d allowed to happen...

“I need coffee,” Reed said, shaking his head. “A vat of coffee.”

Norah nodded. “Me, too.”

“Help yourself,” Annie said, gesturing at the coffeepot on the counter as she took a bite of her toast.

Reed sighed and turned to Norah. “Let’s go back to your house and talk this through. We need to make a plan for how to undo this.”

Norah nodded. “See you, Annie,” she said as she headed to the door, despite how completely furious she was with the woman. She’d known Annie all her life and the woman had been nothing but kind to her. Annie had even brought each triplet an adorable stuffed basset hound, her favorite dog, when they’d been born, and had showered them with little gifts ever since.

“Oh, Norah? Reed?” Annie called as they opened the door and stepped onto the porch.

Norah turned back around.

“Congratulations,” the elderly officiant said with a sheepish smile and absolute mirth glowing in her eyes.

* * *

Reed had been so fired up when he’d left Norah’s house for the chapel that he hadn’t realized how chilly it was this morning, barely fifty-five degrees. He glanced over at Norah; all she wore was a T-shirt and her hands were jammed in her pockets as she hunched over a bit. She was cold. He took off his jacket and slipped it around Norah’s shoulders.

She started and stared down at the jacket. “Thank you,” she said, slipping her arms into it and zipping it up. “I was so out of my mind before, I forgot to grab a sweater.” She turned to stare at him. “Of course, now you’ll be cold.”

“My aching head will keep me warm,” he said. “And I deserve the headache—the literal and figurative one.”

“We both do,” she said gently.

The breeze moved a swath of her hair in her face, the sun illuminating the red and gold highlights, and he had the urge to sweep it back, but she quickly tucked it behind her ear. “I’m a cop. It’s my job to serve and protect. I had no business getting drunk, particularly at a town event.”

“Well, the punch was spiked with something very strong. And you weren’t on duty,” she pointed out. “You’re not even on the force till tomorrow.”

“Still, a cop is always a cop. Unfortunately, by the time I realized the punch had to be spiked, I was too affected by it to care.” He wouldn’t put himself in a position like that again. Leaving Cheyenne, saying yes to Wedlock Creek—even though it meant he couldn’t live in his grandmother’s ranch—trying to switch off the city cop he’d been... He’d let down his guard and he’d paid for it with this crazy nonsense. So had Norah.

Damn. Back in Cheyenne, his guard had been so up he’d practically gotten himself killed during a botched stakeout. Where the hell was the happy medium? Maybe he’d never get a handle on just right.

“And you said you were glad to forget? Or something like that?” she asked, darting a glance at him.

He looked out over a stand of heavy trees along the side of the road. Let it go, he reminded himself. No rehashing, no what-ifs. “I’m here for a fresh start. Now I need a fresh start to my fresh start.” He stopped and shook his head. What a mess. “Sixteen couples besides us?” he said, resuming walking. “It’s a little too easy to get married in the state of Wyoming.”

“Someone should change the law,” Norah said. “There should be a waiting period. Blood tests required. Something, anything, so you can’t get insta-married.”

That was for sure. “It’s like a mini Las Vegas. I wonder how many of those couples meant to get married.”

“Oh, I’m sure all of them. The Wedlock Creek Wedding Chapel is famous. People come here because of the legend.”

He glanced at her. “What legend?”

“Just about everyone who marries at the chapel becomes the parent of multiples in some way, shape or form. According to legend, the chapel has a special blessing on it. A barren witch cast the spell the year the chapel was built in 1895.”

Reed raised an eyebrow. “A barren witch? Was she trying to be nice or up to no good?”

“No one’s sure,” she said with a smile. “But as the mother of triplets, I’m glad I have them.”

Reed stopped walking.

She’d said it. It was absolutely true. She was the mother of triplets. No wonder Annie Potterowski had called him a saint last night. The elderly woman had thought he was knowingly marrying a single mother of three babies! “So you got married at the chapel?” He supposed she was divorced, though that must have been one quick marriage.

She glanced down. “No. I never did get married. The babies’ father ran for the hills about an hour after I told him the news. We’d been dating for only about three months at that point. I thought we had something special, but I sure was wrong.”

Her voice hitched on the word wrong and he took her hand. “I’m sorry.” The jerk had abandoned her? She was raising baby triplets on her own? One baby seemed like a handful. Norah had three. He couldn’t even imagine how hard that had to be.

She bit her lip and forced a half smile, slipping her hand away and into her pocket. “Oh, that’s all right. I have my children, who I love to pieces. I have a great family, work I love. My life is good. No complaints.”

“Still, your life can’t be easy.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Whose is? Yours?”

He laughed. “Touché. And I don’t even have a pet. Or a plant for that matter.”

She smiled and he was glad to see the shadow leave her eyes. “So, what’s our plan for getting back our marriage license? I guess we can just drive out to Brewer first thing in the morning and ask for it back. If we get to the courthouse early and spring on them the minute they open, I’m sure we’ll get the license back before it’s processed.”

“Sounds good,” he said.

“And if we can’t get it back for whatever reason, we’ll just have the marriage annulled.”

“Like it never happened,” he said.

“Exactly,” she said with a nod and smile.

Except it had happened and Reed had a feeling he wouldn’t shake it off so easily, even with an annulment and the passage of time. The pair of them had gotten themselves into a real pickle as his grandmother used to say.

“So I guess this means you really didn’t secretly marry me to get your hands on your grandmother’s ranch,” Norah said. “Between renting a house the minute you moved here yesterday and talking about annulments, that’s crystal clear.”

He thought about telling her why he didn’t believe in marriage but just nodded instead. Last night, as he’d picked her up and carried her into that chapel, he’d been a man—Fabio the secret service agent—who did believe in marriage, who wanted a wife and a house full of kids. He’d liked being that guy. Of course, with the light of day and the headache and stone-cold reality, he was back to Reed Barelli, who’d seen close up that marriage wasn’t for him.

Reed envisioned living alone forever, a couple of dogs to keep him company, short-term relationships with women who understood from the get-go that he wasn’t looking for commitment. He’d thought the last woman he’d dated—a funny, pretty woman named Valerie was on the same page, but a few weeks into their relationship, she’d wanted more and he hadn’t, and it was a mess. Crying, accusations and him saying over and over But I told you on the first date how I felt. That was six months ago and he hadn’t dated since. He missed sex like crazy, but he wasn’t interested in hurting anyone.

They walked in silence, Norah gesturing that they should cross Main Street. As they headed down Norah’s street, Sycamore, he realized they’d made their plan and there was really no need for that coffee, after all. He’d walk her home and then—

“Norah! You’re alive!”

Reed glanced in the direction of the voice. A young blond woman stood in front of Norah’s small, white Cape Cod house, one hand waving at them and one on a stroller with three little faces peering out.

Three. Little. Faces.

Had a two-by-four come out of nowhere and whammed him upside the head?

Just about everyone who marries at the chapel becomes the parent of multiples in some way, shape or form.

Because he’d just realized that the legend of the Wedlock Creek chapel had come true for him.