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She was what Connor needed? A screw-up in the kitchen? A stranger who knew nothing about ranching? As far as she was concerned, she’d been on the receiving end of all the benefit and hadn’t given much in return. Now Johanna was treating her like a real granddaughter. The girl longing for a home was irresistibly attracted to that, while the practical woman inside knew that it would only hurt more in the end when she had to leave.
Johanna took the remainder of the bags, nudging her out the door. “Come on. You need shoes.”
Connor had been waiting outside and now handed her a paper cup, the tab folded back already and the letters “dec” printed roughly on the top. He’d thought to get her decaf, she realized as Johanna herded them on to the shoe store. His consideration was a constant surprise.
Feeling somewhat helpless, she watched as Connor waited patiently on a bench outside the store while she bought casual shoes, a pair of black patent slingbacks for dressy, and white satin slippers for the wedding.
By lunchtime, their arms were laden with bags. In addition to the footwear and maternity clothes, she’d purchased new socks and underwear at the department store. She’d also taken some of her own money, what little there was of it, and bought Connor a pair of new T-shirts. The one he’d had on first thing this morning was worn around the collar. She couldn’t think of anything else appropriate to buy, but she was determined not to go home with nothing for him. She hadn’t ever bought a man clothing before, and without knowing sizes was a fish out of water. Socks were too impersonal, and underwear…far too intimate. But T-shirts she could manage without too much trouble. Besides, it would be a treat to see his wide chest in them, the way the sleeves outlined the dip in his triceps…
“I’m famished. Let’s have lunch.” Johanna led Alex down the hall to the restaurant housed on the corner.
Alex waited while Connor requested a table, then put a hand on his arm when Johanna excused herself to go to the ladies’ room. “Lunch is on me. Please.”
She’d accepted enough today. She didn’t have much, but she had enough of her own money left after the T-shirts that she could at least buy lunch.
“You don’t have to do that.” He took a seat in the booth opposite her.
“But I want to. I’m not used to…to charity.” Guilt and shame trickled through her simply from saying the word.
“You’re not charity. I’m getting something out of this deal too, remember?” He reached over and put his hand on top of hers. “You’re helping me, Alex. Right now it’s safe to say you’re all the hope I’ve got.”
His thumb was tracing circles over the side of her hand and she didn’t think he was even aware he was doing it. Let alone realizing what the simple touch was doing to her insides.
She swallowed. “Then indulge me. You’ve done so much for me already. Let me buy you lunch.”
He hesitated a moment, but relented. “Deal. But I’ll warn you. Watching you shop works up my appetite.”
Alex laughed as a waitress brought tall glasses of iced water. “Now that the sickness seems to be getting better, I could eat all the time.”
His thumb kept circling. “You know, Alex, I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before now. It’s not right that you have to come to me for every penny. There are things you’re going to need—for yourself, for the house, getting ready for the baby. I’ll make sure I get you a checkbook and a debit card. I’m sorry I didn’t look after it before.”
He was going to trust her with his bank account? Alex tried not to gape and instead grabbed her water and sipped, hiding her shocked face.
His thumb stopped and he squeezed her hand. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No, no, not at all,” she stammered, then cleared her throat as it seemed to suddenly become hoarse. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”
“Is there a reason I shouldn’t trust you?”
“No!” She finally lifted her eyes and saw he was watching her steadily. Like he already knew the answer. “Of course not. It’s just…”
How could she explain what such a practical, simple act meant to her? That he trusted her to such an extent that she could use his money without asking? That it was one more thing binding her to him and giving her this uncanny sense of normalcy in an otherwise unorthodox arrangement?
“It makes sense, that’s all. I’ve taken you away from your income…I agreed to provide for you. That doesn’t mean you don’t get some say in the matter.”
“It’s more than I expected. You and your grandmother—you’ve been far too generous with me. She paid for everything this morning. I’m not used to that.”
Connor took a sip of his water, pulling his hand away from hers. “Don’t you feel one bit of guilt. Gram is having a ball. She hasn’t done this since…well, in many years. But she and Mom used to do it all the time.”
“They were close?” Alex prodded gently.
Connor nodded. “Yes, they were. Gram always said, ‘Melissa, you’re my best daughter.’ I think she always wanted a little girl of her own, but there was only Dad. She and Mom were peas in a pod. I think she was a little disappointed that one of us wasn’t a girl and she didn’t get a granddaughter to spoil.”
She smiled at the fond tone of remembrance in his voice. It was good he remembered the good times. She wished she could, but somehow all she seemed to feel was regret and a sense of being cheated out of something.
“Mom and Gram used to take little trips like this all the time…sometimes even for something as silly as buying school supplies for Jim and me. But they always had fun. Dad always said it was an excuse for them to get away from the farm for a day and treat themselves.”
“So that’s why you came today?”
He looked up and saw Johanna approaching. “I thought you could both use a little of that.”
She couldn’t believe she hadn’t considered it before. When Connor had lost his parents, Johanna had lost a son, daughter-in-law, and grandson. That pain had to be with her still.
“Have we ordered yet?”
“Just waiting for you.” Connor scooched over and made room for Johanna to sit.
“Whew. I worked up an appetite this morning. Haven’t had this much fun since—”
When she broke off, Alex looked up at Connor and was happy he’d told her what he had.
“Connor was just telling me about his mother. And how you used to sneak off for day trips like this.”
“Oh, we did. We always came back with more than we went for, but we had a ball. You’re a lot like her, you know.”
“I am?” Alex put down her menu and her eyebrows lifted with surprise. “I wouldn’t think so.”
Johanna laughed, the rusty sound that always made Alex smile. “Oh, yes. The dark hair, pretty eyes. But more than that, you’re strong. Stubborn, too, I can tell. And you have a big heart, Alex. I saw that right off. Don’t you think so, Connor?”
Alex dropped her eyes, both at the unexpected praise and the blatant attempt at matchmaking. Did Connor see that in her too? How could he, when she couldn’t see it in herself?
He covered the awkward moment with a laugh. “I certainly agree with the stubborn thing,” he joked, then related the tale of her first cooked meal, and how determined she was to conquer the kitchen. “If supper last night was any indication, your stubborn streak will serve you well. The ham was delicious.”
Alex accepted the compliment graciously, but wondered, as the server took their orders, if he did think she was much like his mother and if that was a good or a bad thing. His long leg bumped hers beneath the table and her stomach twisted. How were they supposed to come through this unscathed and unchanged? She was already feeling like a real part of this family, being included and welcomed…and the wedding hadn’t even happened yet.
Johanna changed the subject, asking about wedding details, and they got so occupied with the topic that Alex quite forgot her misgivings until later.
After lunch they left the mall, and after a few quick turns Connor parked in front of a small strip-mall, gave them his return time, and Alex found herself entering a formal wear store. Mannequins dressed in white gowns stood in one window, one with a tuxedoed man on her arm. Inside were two solid rooms of formal wear. She took off her shoes, gripped her purse nervously, and followed Johanna into the reception area.
“May I help you?” A young woman, dressed in the latest fashion, looked up from the appointment book behind her desk.
“Yes. Johanna Madsen, and this is Alexis Grayson. We’re shopping for a wedding dress today.”
“Congratulations!” The woman smiled. “Come right in.”
Alex was silent as Jennifer, as it stated on her name tag, and Johanna hashed over what sort of style would suit her. Never in her life had she shopped in such a place! All around her were dresses in white and cream satin, some adorned with lace, others with intricate beading and crystals.
A bride.
But not a bride. An impostor. This wasn’t a real marriage, and to pretend it was, was sacrilege. She didn’t deserve a fancy white dress with all the trimmings.
She pulled on Johanna’s arm. Johanna sent Jennifer an apologetic look.
“Excuse us a moment.”
“I can’t do this.” Alex looked at Johanna evenly. “It isn’t right. We both know this isn’t a real marriage. It feels wrong to put on this big show when we both know that in a few months it’ll be over. Let’s just go somewhere else and pick out a nice dress and it’ll do. Please. This is all…too much.”
Johanna must have taken pity on her, because she acquiesced. “All right. But, Alex, people are going to wonder if you show up at your wedding in an everyday dress. You should at least have a proper dress. Connor’s friends…his neighbors…will expect it.”
She was engaged in a losing battle and she knew it. Not only that, but there was a small part of her that wanted to do him proud, to show up on their wedding day looking the way a bride should look. To see that gleam of appreciation in his eyes, even if it wasn’t for real.
“Oh, all right. But nothing over the top.”
Johanna found the sales clerk again, and before Alex could say Here comes the bride she found herself again in a changing room, three separate dresses hanging before her.
The first two didn’t seem quite right, but the third time was the charm. Alex emerged from the change area smiling. “I like this one.”
Standing before the full-length mirror, she fell in love with it.
Strapless, the satin bodice was short, gathered in an empire style just beneath her breasts, with a thin stripe of satin ribbon marking the seam and the top of the bustline above. Beneath, it flowed gracefully to the floor, a filmy overskirt of organza adding romance to the look. It was simple and stunning. She pressed a hand to her belly. Even if she started to show more in the next few weeks, the empire waist and overskirt would camouflage things perfectly.
“I’m going to get your shoes,” Johanna murmured, her voice tinged with emotion. “It’s beautiful, Alex,” she added, before disappearing to the car to retrieve their earlier purchase.
The slippers slid on, and Alex knew that this was the one. “I love it.”
She checked the price tag and almost choked.
“I can’t let you do this,” she protested to Johanna, but it was to no avail.
“You can and you will,” the old lady returned decisively. “I promise you, you will not regret it, Alexis.”
Jennifer spoke up. “It doesn’t need a bit of altering. Amazing, really. We can have one ordered in for you within eight weeks.”
“This wedding is happening a week from Saturday,” Johanna said coolly, while Alex was still stupefied by the eight-week ordering time. “Go get changed,” she ordered Alex. “I’ll look after everything.”
Thirty minutes later they were in the car, heading west, the trunk loaded with maternity clothes and the back seat holding one very new, very extravagant dress, and one very nervous bride-to-be.
Connor was a smart man. And he knew better than to ask what in the world was in the garment bag that Alex had carried from the car and into the house. Alex was looking relaxed and happy, and even seemed a little excited as she scooted up the stairs with her wedding finery, presumably so that he wouldn’t see. It was endearing, really, despite the odd situation they’d put themselves in.
And for some reason Alex and Gram seemed to get on like a house on fire. Mealtimes were fun now, with easy banter and the two of them ganging up on him about wedding details. Honestly, he didn’t care. All he wanted was a small, nice ceremony. Something intimate and simple. The details he was more than happy to leave to the women.
Summer days were long, and it was a good thing, because he was so busy it kept him from thinking too much. Besides haying and the feed crops and looking after livestock, there were many more phone calls and e-mails lately, all dealing with the crisis. The U.S. borders were closed indefinitely to all Canadian beef—and other markets were following suit. Something, something had to happen soon. With every bill paid, the balance in the bank account got lower and lower. After his meeting he was no further ahead. Everything was at a standstill. Everyone was waiting for the verdict on the source of the disease. Everyone he knew was praying that their herd wouldn’t have to be slaughtered. And all the while the money he did receive domestically was a drop in the bucket compared to what he needed.
The one time he relaxed was in the evenings, coming in to Alex’s and Gram’s company. Their happy chatter and laughter lightened his load more than he wanted to admit.
Two days after the shopping trip, he escaped to the den to work on the computer. Grace Lundquist had been by with the account book, and it didn’t look good. He sighed, rubbing his temples as he rested his elbows on the desk. He wished he could put it aside and maybe watch some television with Alex and Gram. Resolutely he set his jaw. There had to be a way to work the numbers. He went over the columns again, wondering where he could save and what absolutely needed to be spent.
“Long day?”
Alex’s voice interrupted him, and he couldn’t help the warmth that spread through him with just a few words from her lips. “The longest.”
“Can I come in?”
He swiveled in his chair, turned to see her hesitating in the doorway, her form backlit by the light from the kitchen. “Of course you can.”
She offered a small smile, stepped lightly inside. “I forgot to give you something the other day. It’s not much, but…”
She held out the bag containing the shirts. “I thought you could use a new supply.”
He took the bag from her hands, peering inside. “T-shirts.” He looked up, a smile smoothing the lines of worry from his face. “You didn’t have to do that.”
She sighed. “I couldn’t spend the whole day shopping and not bring something home for you. I only wish I could have…well, never mind.”
“They’re great. I appreciate the thought as much as the gift, Alex.” It had been many years since anyone had thought to give him a present “just because.”
Her eyes slid to the computer screen and the open books on the desk. “It’s bad, isn’t it, Connor? I can tell by the stress written all over your face.”
He didn’t even attempt to hide it as wrinkles marred his brow. “It’s bad. The whole industry is crumpling around us.”
“Will we make it? Won’t your trust fund money help?”
His throat grew so dry it hurt. She had said “we”, not “you”. He wasn’t sure if it helped knowing she was in it with him or not.
His ancestors had started with nothing and made this place work. His great-grandfather had persevered throughout the Depression when other farmers had abandoned their land, looking for work. It damn near killed him to admit, “I don’t know. It’ll help for a while, but I don’t know.”
She nodded, but he saw the flicker of uncertainty on her face. “Alex, no matter what happens with Windover, I made you a promise. I said I would help provide for you and your baby, and I will.”
“You always keep your promises, don’t you? Don’t worry about the baby and me. We’re all in this together.” She came even closer, close enough that he had to lift his chin to look in her eyes, see the faint flush on her cheeks.
She smiled down at him, her face soft with understanding. “If it’ll help, we can just have a Justice of the Peace here for the wedding. I don’t need all the trappings that Johanna seems determined to have.”
There was no way he was going to deprive her of a nice wedding. Not after all she was willing to go through to make this whole plan work. “It’s not that much when you look at the big picture,” he conceded. “A small, intimate affair is no problem. And secretly…” he smiled up at her “…I think Gram is having a marvelous time.”
She leaned back against the desk, resting her hips there. He saw the pouch forming at her waist and wondered at the tiny life growing inside her. When he looked up and met her eyes again, she was smiling. It was a smile of contentment, of happiness, of peace.
“He’s growing.”
“I noticed.” He realized she had called the baby “he” and wondered if she had some maternal instinct that told her it was a boy.
“Each day I feel stronger. Each day,” she said softly, “I know I’m happy I’m going to be a mother. That’s not something I expected. That’s something I can thank you for.”
“Me?” How in the world was he possibly responsible for that?
“I had no idea what I was going to do when I found out I was pregnant. When Ryan left me I…well, I certainly knew I was on my own. But you…being here…it’s given me something. I don’t know if it’s Windover, or the open space, or the kindness you and your grandmother have shown me…” She shrugged. “But I’m not afraid now. I don’t feel alone. Thank you for that.”
Instead of making him feel better, he felt the weight of increased responsibility. For several years now his whole life had been responsibility—running Windover single-handedly, finding a way to keep it. Now he was responsible for this slip of a girl, one who’d been hurt as much as he, and her unborn child.
“You look so tired,” she whispered, and her finger moved of its own accord, tracing along the edge of his face, tucking some errant hair over his ear. “Why do you put so much on yourself?”
