Always in Her Heart Read online

  Link looked at her, his eyebrows lifting in the question he’d been asking all along. “Well, Annie?”

  For Marcy, she told herself. For Marcy.

  “All right.” She had to force the words out. “I’ll marry you.”

  It was his wedding day, and he was on his way to meet his bride. Link grimaced at his reflection in the rearview mirror. The three days they’d had to wait once they applied for the license had been an eternity. He’d been constantly on edge, sure something would go wrong—that Annie would back out, that Frank would launch some unexpected offense, anything.

  So far, so good. The wedding was today, and the hearing before Judge Carstairs set for tomorrow. Chet seemed as optimistic as an attorney could be. With any luck, this time the next day they’d be safe.

  And then? For a moment he couldn’t see beyond the immediate goal. He shook his head. It was very simple. Annie would return to Boston with the baby, and he’d go back to running the company.

  He drew up in front of the church and sat for a moment, staring out at the square. The gazebo glinted white through the surrounding trees. The maples, just beginning to change color, advertised the turning of the season. Tragedy happened, but life moved on.

  Right now, moving on meant going through with this wedding. He and Annie had an agreement, just like any other business contract. As long as they kept the situation strictly business, no one would get hurt.

  He glanced at the florist’s box lying on the passenger seat and jeered at himself. He was breaking his own rules. He hadn’t intended to do that but he’d found himself walking into the florist’s. No matter what had prompted their wedding, a bride should have flowers.

  An orchid hadn’t seemed quite right for Annie, and the chrysanthemums the shop had in stock for the high school homecoming were out of the question. He’d settled for a small arrangement of yellow rosebuds, and their delicate aroma filtered through the white cardboard box. Hopefully the very idea of flowers wouldn’t remind her of the funeral.

  He caught sight of Chet, hovering outside the church, ready to be their witness. Now or never. He picked up the box, got out of the car and walked across to meet his best man.

  “Still sure about this?” Chet raised his eyebrows. He was dressed, like Link, in a dark suit that seemed appropriate for an informal wedding.

  “I’m sure.” He pulled open the door to the church offices. “We made arrangements to have the ceremony in Pastor Laing’s study instead of the sanctuary.”

  “Too many memories in there, I guess.”

  Link nodded, throat tightening again. Too many, and too recent.

  The door to the pastor’s study stood open. He stepped inside. Nora Evers, Davis and Becca’s next-door neighbor, held Marcy. An improbable hat perched on Nora’s white hair, and the baby was trying hard to pull off a purple flower.

  “Nora, glad you could be here.” They’d needed witnesses, and he’d felt the grandmotherly woman would add a touch of permanence to the proceedings.

  Pastor Laing said something welcoming, but Link’s attention was caught by Annie, standing unsmiling in front of the window. She wore a navy business suit with a white blouse, and her shiny brown hair curved in toward her rounded chin. Unlike Nora, she’d apparently seen no reason to wear a hat. She looked cool, severe and businesslike.

  Once he’d been challenged by that cool exterior, but in the current circumstances he found it somehow reassuring. Annie looked as if nothing could touch her.

  “I guess we should get started.” Pastor Laing picked up a worn black worship book and came around the desk to stand in front of them, his face austere. “If you’re both sure you’re ready.”

  “We are,” Link said. He handed Annie the florist’s box.

  She looked startled, then opened the box and took out the roses. He couldn’t see her expression, but she clutched the flowers tightly.

  They’d talked with Garth Laing at length about this wedding, being carefully honest with him. Link certainly had no intention of lying to a man he respected as much as he did Garth. Maybe they’d left a few things out when they’d discussed their reasons for being married immediately, but if they had, he suspected someone as intuitive as the pastor could read between the lines.

  Garth had agreed to marry them, that was the important thing. If they’d gone to a justice of the peace, he wasn’t sure Annie’s resolve would have held up.

  Garth glanced from Link’s face to Annie’s. He nodded, as if satisfied with whatever he saw there. Then he began to read the age-old words of the wedding service.

  Breathe, Link told himself. All you have to do is remember your responses. That, and hope Annie doesn’t say “I don’t” instead of “I do.”

  The preliminaries over, Garth smiled at them. “Please join hands.”

  For an instant he thought Annie wouldn’t move. Then she extended her hand.

  Her fingers were so cold it was like taking a handful of ice. He clasped her hand in his, trying to warm it, and Annie looked up at him.

  Shock ran through him. All that cool composure of hers was a facade. For a moment, he saw the grief and vulnerability in her golden-brown eyes, and the sight shook him to the heart.

  Beneath her controlled exterior, Annie was fragile, so fragile. She’d just undergone the most devastating experience of her life, and now she was plunged into something she wouldn’t have dreamed possible a week earlier.

  Dealing with Annie right now was like handling high explosives. One false move, and everything he’d naively thought was settled could blow sky high, leaving nothing but pieces.

  Garth’s voice paused, and Link realized he had to say his vows. Holding her hands in his, he began.

  The ring felt odd on her finger. Annie stood at the dresser in the guest room at Becca’s house, staring down at it. Her hand looked strange—the hand of a married woman.

  She took a shaky breath. Hard as it was to believe, they’d actually done this thing. She and Link were husband and wife, legally and in God’s sight.

  Did we do the right thing, Father? We honestly tried to determine Your will. Surely it was worth any sacrifice to keep Marcy safe.

  Annie knew she’d better finish changing her clothes and get back downstairs. She’d left Marcy with Link, and she wasn’t sure how comfortable he was watching a lively toddler. Marcy’s little hands could move at the speed of light when she wanted something, and Annie was already discovering that she needed faster reflexes to keep up with her.

  She pulled on khakis and a camel sweater, ran a brush through her hair and decided that would have to do. On to the next thing.

  She and Link had already decided they’d both stay in the house tonight, since they didn’t want to raise any awkward questions with the hearing tomorrow. Link could sleep on the couch in Davis’s office. Being here together was difficult, but it was only for a night.

  Once the custody case was settled, the need to look like a married couple would be finished. She’d take Marcy home, and that would be that.

  In the meantime, she could certainly cope with the situation for a day or two. This was business, and she knew how to handle business.

  The thought comforted her. She went quickly out of the room and down the stairs.

  She found Link and Marcy in the family room, where he was trying to dissuade the baby from pulling all the videos out of the cabinet.

  “How about playing with the nice blocks, instead?” He sounded harassed.

  “She likes just about anything better than her toys, according to Becca.”

  Link looked up at her from his prone position on the rug next to Marcy. A smile tilted his lips. “What do you suggest I do about it?”

  She had to remind herself not to react to that smile. Business. She walked into the adjoining kitchen and pulled out the drawer her sister had filled with plastic containers and utensils.

  “Look, Marcy. Look what Nan has.” She tapped a wooden spoon invitingly on a plastic container.

  M
arcy dropped a video on Link’s arm and trotted over to grab the spoon away from Annie. She plopped down in front of the drawer.

  “Whatever anyone else has, that’s what she wants. Becca called it the toddler’s creed.” Her smile faltered when she seemed to hear her sister’s voice.

  Link closed the video cabinet quickly, snapping the safety lock. “Nan? How did you get to be Nan?”

  “Aunt Annie is a mouthful. She hasn’t managed it yet.”

  He unfolded himself from the floor and walked toward her. Her mouth went suddenly dry. They were alone together. They were married.

  He stopped, looking down at the baby. “Speaking of cooking utensils, have you given any thought to supper?”

  She stared at him blankly. So much for the efficient, businesslike way she was going to handle things. “No, I guess I haven’t.” She hated admitting to any error. “It never entered my mind.”

  “Well, we have to eat. Why don’t you grab a jacket, and I’ll take the two of you out.”

  That just seemed to multiply her inefficiency. “Marcy’s going to be tired out soon. I doubt she’d last through a restaurant dinner without a meltdown.”

  He looked at the baby with caution, as if anticipating an explosion. “I could pick up some take-out.”

  “The freezer’s still full of the food people brought over for the funeral. I’ll microwave something for tonight.”

  By tomorrow, she wouldn’t need to feel responsible for Link’s dinner.

  “Okay.” He sat down on the floor next to Marcy. “I’ll keep an eye on her while you’re doing that.”

  Having Link, in jeans and a dark blue sweater, taking up half the kitchen floor didn’t seem conducive to getting a meal together quickly. Still, it would be worse if she were trying to do it with Marcy underfoot.

  She pulled foil-covered dishes from the freezer, setting things onto the pale birch table. For an instant her vision blurred.

  Everyone in town must have loved Becca and Davis. Their grief had found expression in their bringing more food than she and Link could possibly eat. It was just as well that she hadn’t thought of cooking anything else.

  When the table was set with the floral pottery dishes and blue-and-white napkins, she scooped Marcy up. “Supper time, sweetpea. Let’s see what you like.”

  Marcy liked just about everything until halfway through the meal, when she suddenly decided she didn’t like anything. She wailed, then began rubbing her eyes, depositing a generous helping of macaroni and cheese in her hair in the process.

  Annie glanced at Link, placidly eating a second helping of ham and scalloped potato casserole. “I’d better get her ready for bed.”

  He nodded, then came around the table to plant a kiss on Marcy’s cheek, adroitly avoiding the waving, sticky hands. “Do you want me to carry her upstairs?”

  “I can handle her.” She mopped the baby’s face and hands quickly. She’d better be able to handle Marcy. From now on, that would be her primary responsibility. For just an instant the thought frightened her, but she shook it off. She could do this. She had to. Nobody loved Marcy more than she did.

  A wet half hour later she held a rosy-cheeked cherub, dressed for bed in pajamas dotted with yellow giraffes that matched the wallpaper. The elephant lamp cast a soft glow over the nursery.

  Marcy looked adorable. She suspected that she hadn’t fared so well. Her hair fell damply in her face and her sweater sported several wet patches. She looked up at a sound to find Link standing in the doorway, watching them.

  “Come to help?”

  He ambled toward them, looking entirely too dry and perfect. “Came to say good-night.”

  He held out his hands to Marcy. She leaned coyly against Annie’s shoulder for an instant, then lunged into his arms, chortling.

  Link lifted her over his head, laughing up at her. The laughter transformed his face from its earlier bleakness. Annie’s heart lurched.

  “Let’s see if we can get her into bed without a struggle,” she said.

  This was the moment that had been difficult each night. Marcy, who normally went to bed without a peep, had been clingy and reluctant.

  Link hugged the child, then swung her into the white crib, snuggling her down next to the soft, white, stuffed dog. Marcy lay still for an instant, then popped up again. She looked from one to the other of them, her blue eyes very round.

  “Mama?” she asked tentatively. “Mama?”

  Annie blinked back tears. “It’s all right, sweetheart. Nan is here.”

  Link leaned over the crib railing, patting her. “You go to sleep now, darling. Link and Nan are here. We’re not going to leave.”

  Marcy’s eyes clouded up, as if tears weren’t far off. He patted her again, humming in a soft bass. While Annie held her breath, Marcy lay down, pulling the dog close and slipping her thumb into her mouth. In a moment her eyes had closed.

  Link straightened slowly. The movement brought him brushing against her as they stood side by side, looking down at the baby. The room was so silent she could hear Link’s slow, steady breathing. She could almost imagine she heard the beating of his heart. Her own seemed to be fluttering erratically.

  She took a breath, trying to steady herself. It was certainly a good thing this marriage was going to be a long-distance one. Because she didn’t think she could cope with too much time spent in close quarters with her new husband.

  Chapter Three

  Gratitude mingled with her apprehension as Annie walked toward the courthouse the next day. She’d expected to be accompanied by only Link and the attorney. She’d thought she’d feel very much the outsider in the redbrick courthouse that was one of a row of similar buildings—town hall, public library, courthouse—that lined one side of the square.

  Instead, Pastor Laing had turned up at the house early, saying he thought they might need moral support at such a difficult time. And Nora Evers, hat firmly in place on her white hair, had marched out of her house to join them.

  The support helped, especially after the mostly sleepless night she’d endured. She’d been so aware of her responsibility for Marcy that even putting the baby monitor next to her pillow wouldn’t relieve her concerns.

  She shouldn’t try to fool herself. Some of her sleeplessness had to be chalked up to Link’s presence in the house as her husband. Husband. The word reverberated in her thoughts. That had to have been one of the strangest wedding nights in history.

  She hadn’t expected anything else. Of course not, she assured herself quickly. This was a business arrangement, not a marriage. That fact hadn’t lessened her awareness of Link’s presence. Even after his bedroom door had closed, her awareness had remained. Maybe soon, she’d get used to it. Maybe.

  “Are you okay?” Link, carrying the baby, glanced at her as their little procession crossed the street.

  Was she? “My stomach feels like I’m walking into an IRS audit without my notes.”

  His smile flickered. “As bad as that?”

  She nodded. “What if…”

  Link took her hand in a reassuring grip. “Let’s not venture into what-ifs, not until we have to. That’s what we have an attorney for.”

  “That’s right.” Chet mounted the three steps to the courthouse’s double doors and held one side open for them. He smiled, but Annie thought she detected tension in him, as well. Maybe Chet wasn’t as confident of the outcome as he’d like them to believe.

  She entered the tiled, echoing hallway. Ahead of her a cluster of people stepped into the elevator— Frank, Julia and a woman who was probably their attorney. Her heart jolted.

  Please, Lord, be with us this morning. We are doing the right thing, aren’t we? Don’t let them take Marcy away.

  Link’s tension vibrated through the hand that clasped hers.

  “Looks as if they’re not giving up easily.” His grip tightened.

  “We didn’t expect them to, did we.” Now it was her turn to try and sound reassuring. She didn’t feel assured. S
he felt panic-stricken.

  “I guess not.” Link waited until the door had closed and the elevator was carrying the Lesters upward before pushing the button.

  “Do you think the judge knows the Lesters?” That was probable, given how small the town was. Maybe this would be over before it began, a victim of the Lakeview old boys’ network.

  “Judge Carstairs knows everyone in town,” Chet said, answering the question before Link could say anything. “But that doesn’t mean she won’t be fair. After all, she’s always dealing with people she knows.”

  Somehow she hadn’t been thinking of the judge as a woman. She didn’t know whether to be reassured by that or not. Would it make any difference in the way Judge Carstairs viewed a custody case?

  She worried at it all the way up in the elevator, into the courtroom with its lofty ceiling and murals of Revolutionary War scenes, right into her seat behind a polished table. The judge’s bench rose intimidatingly, towering above them.

  She’d pictured someone elderly and severe, but Judge Carstairs couldn’t have been more than fifty. Her glossy dark hair swung around a face that was discreetly made up, and the hand that wielded the gavel sported polished nails.

  The judge looked down at the papers in front of her, then questioningly from one attorney to the other. “I thought this was a routine custody hearing for a minor child.”

  The Lesters’ attorney stood. “Frank Lester and his wife contest awarding custody to the aunt, Your Honor. As you may be aware, Mr. Lester is the cousin of the child’s father.”

  Judge Carstairs frowned. “What I may be aware of isn’t pertinent, Counselor.” She nodded toward the door at the side of the courtroom. “Let’s move this into my chambers.”

  Annie sent a startled glance at Chet, who shrugged.

  “She does things her way,” he murmured. “All we can do is go along.”

  They trooped out of the courtroom and into a book-lined room that looked like an elegant library in a private home. The judge took a seat behind the desk and waved them all to chairs. She glanced at Pastor Laing. “Garth, are you here to testify in this case?”