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And suddenly, with piercing clarity, he knew exactly what he had to do. Wade set down the carving knife beside his plate, focusing his entire attention on Clarissa’s face.
“I need to say something before we start.”
“Yes?” Clarissa looked up from pouring Pierce a glass of milk. There was mild interest in her eyes, but nothing more. It was obvious that she had no idea of his intentions.
“Clarissa, uh…” He stopped, looked around and realized that everyone was staring at him. He couldn’t do this now, not here, in front of the kids!
“Yes?” Clarissa set the milk jug down on the counter, seated herself and carefully spread her napkin in her lap. “Pass the potatoes around, please, Jared.”
Wade frowned. He really should do this properly, in private, where she’d pay full attention to him, listen to all his arguments. Yeah, later.
He glanced around the table. The kids were gawking at him, their mouths hanging open in amazement as he ladled yet another spoonful of peas onto his plate.
“I didn’t know you liked peas so much, Uncle Wade.” Tildy almost hid the laugh that tilted up the side of her pretty mouth.
“What? Oh. Sorry. Here, Pierce, take some of these.” He pushed half the plateful onto the boy’s plate, opened one of the golden rolls and watched the butter he spread on it melt into a puddle of soft creamy yellow.
Yes, marriage was the only way to go now. He didn’t have a choice, not if he intended to keep his promise. His wants, needs, had to come second to what was best for the kids. With Clarissa as their stepmother, no court could deny the children her tender caring. He could only hope she still wanted a family.
“Clarissa, I—” He stopped again, searching for the right way to ask her for a date. Sort of. Not a real date, of course.
“Go ahead, Wade. I’m listening.” She smiled that gentle, Mona-Lisa-like smile that made his palms sweat, but her attention wasn’t on him. “Use your fork please, Pierce. Tildy, would you open the window a bit more? It’s quite hot in here. What did you want to say, Wade?”
When no answer was forthcoming after several minutes, Clarissa looked up. She stopped spooning out potatoes for just one moment, stared at him inquisitively, then glanced around the table at the curious faces that watched him so closely. Finally, she broke the silence, her eyes darker as they studied him.
“Go ahead, children. Eat your dinner. We’ve some homework to do later. Your uncle is tired. Let him relax.”
Everyone else seemed to follow her lead as one by one, the kids took up the signal, dishing up her food like locusts on a field of tender green shoots. Soon the conversation was going a mile a minute. Wade decided to go with the flow. He picked up the salad and filled his bowl.
“Clarissa’s house is a great place, Uncle Wade. Do you know she’s got a screen porch back there? I’m gonna sit out there tonight and watch the fireflies. Some people around here call them lightning bugs. Isn’t that a silly name?”
Pierce chatted away a mile a minute, and Wade let him, content to eat while he examined Clarissa’s ability to get his whole family involved in the conversation.
How did she do that? The most he got some nights was a grunt or a heap of complaints. Of course, it wasn’t while they were eating food like this!
Jared looked pleased by his reasoning.
“Yeah! And we can live in this house, right, Uncle Wade? For a little while anyway.” He grinned happily. “I love this old house. It’s kinda like staying with an old friend. It’s got some problems, but it’s homey.”
The words stabbed Wade with the wealth of longing he could hear beneath those words. He had no idea the boy felt that way. When had they ever hung around anywhere long enough to make old friends? Of course, he’d lost a lot. Kendra had a knack for making her house a home, probably because she’d loved her kids so much.
“I think it’s a romantic house with all these crocheted curtains, and especially those frilly things over Clarissa’s bed.”
Lacey sighed and hugged herself in a melodramatic way that Wade knew meant she’d been reading sappy love stories again. Oh well, she’d run into reality soon enough. Why spoil the illusion of happy ever after?
“If we lived here all the time, I could take all kinds of pictures of the birds. Clarissa’s got way better birds than we have, plus she’s got the woods right out there. We’ve just got that dumb old playground, and the noise scares them away. Can I have some more meat? Please?”
The topic of the conversation said nothing, merely smiling at the children as they talked and munching on the minuscule amounts of food she placed on her own plate.
Though Wade spent a long time studying her, Clarissa did not return his look. She waited, hands folded in her lap, until everyone was finished, then gathered up the plates.
“Would anyone like some peach cobbler?” She lifted a golden delicacy from the oven. “I have some ice cream to go with it.”
Wade closed his eyes and breathed. Heaven help him! Peach cobbler was his favorite dessert. And no one had ever made it better than his sister. The words brought back fond memories of their times together on the reservation when they’d had to depend on each other for companionship. They’d picked peaches one year and earned enough money to buy bikes. They’d also taken home cases and cases of the ripened peaches, until his mother had begged them to stop.
How had Clarissa found out?
Wade jerked up his head to study her, his eyes narrowed as he tried to search out some hint that she’d known about his past. But Clarissa simply stared at him with that bland smile, holding out a dish, ice cream melting on top, as she waited patiently for his response.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she murmured when he didn’t take it. “Perhaps you’d rather have something else? I know some people don’t care for peaches.”
“I’ll try it,” Wade managed to say and took the dish from her hand. “Thank you.”
“You’re quite welcome. Coffee?”
Wade tried three helpings of the dessert, and by then he knew that he’d done the right thing in deciding to propose to her. A man didn’t find a woman like Clarissa Cartwright every day, not one who made peach cobbler that melted in your mouth, or one who could dissect a frog without wincing. There sure weren’t many women who’d calmly take in five people, feed, shelter and care for them as if it weren’t a stitch out of the usual routine.
He’d better hang on to her before somebody else beat him to the punch. After all, hadn’t she been praying to get married the day he’d met her? Wade was pretty sure he wasn’t an answer to prayer, but she would get her family. That ought to make a difference.
“We’ll do the dishes, Clarissa. You and Uncle Wade go have coffee on the veranda,” Tildy ordered. “I’m sure you have things to talk about.”
Wade noticed a sparkle in her eye that hadn’t been there before. Had his niece figured out what he was going to do? If she had, Wade dearly hoped she’d shut up about it until he got everything arranged.
Would Clarissa agree to his preposterous scheme?
He helped the thin, silent woman into the big woven willow chair, handed her a cup of well-creamed coffee, then took his own seat. He set down his mug and faced her.
“Clarissa?”
“Yes?” She calmly sipped her drink, her eyes on the blooming apple tree in the garden outside.
Wade felt his temperature begin to rise at her obvious disinterest in what he was saying. For the kids, he reminded himself as he licked a crumb of peach cobbler off the edge of his lip. He was doing this for the kids.
“Would you marry me?”
“Oh, I don’t think so.” She said it so matter-of-factly, he wasn’t sure he’d heard right.
“What? Why not?” he demanded.
“Because you only want someone to look after the kids until you can get things straight with Rita. We can do that without getting married.” She avoided his eyes, peering up into the sky instead. “You don’t have to marry me to get my help. I’ve already offered a number of times. Remember?”
Wade flushed. He’d been rude with his refusal, and he’d hurt her feelings. Besides, what woman wanted to be proposed to like that? He could at least make this part of it special. He opened his mouth and then clamped it shut as she spoke.
“Don’t worry about it, Wade. It will all work out. Everything will be fine. You’ll see. You just have to trust God to handle these things.”
He took a deep breath, hating the idea of spilling his guts, but knowing he was going to have to open up a little, let her inside. He hated that, hated feeling exposed and vulnerable to anyone. It only made it easier to see how many mistakes he’d made.
So why did he have this strange feeling that he could count on this woman?
“I do trust God, but I am also worried, Clarissa. I made a pact with my sister. Before she died, I promised I would take care of her kids, that I’d keep them together, raise them as my own. I vowed that I wouldn’t let them get into the trouble I’ve had.” He gulped. “So far, I’m doing a lousy job.”
“I think you’re doing very well.” Clarissa motioned toward his house. “That was just an accident. I’m sure Rita will come to understand that. In time.”
“It’s an accident that shouldn’t have happened. I should have done better for them. They need someone to help them through the tough parts. I wasn’t thinking properly, you see. I thought giving them a home and food and a sense of security was what they needed most.”
Clarissa smiled, her face thoughtful. “It’s a good deal to ask of anyone,” she murmured. “The children have done very well under your care.”
He flushed with pleasure. “Maybe. But I have a hunch they’d do even better with you as their stepmother.” He said it deliberately, wanting to shake her out of this Mona Lisa stupor she’d sunken into. When that didn’t work, Wade kept talking.
“I’m not very good at listening to what they’re not saying, to finding out what’s bothering them. And I can’t be there all the time, even though I’d like to be. But I really do want the best for them.”
Clarissa nodded. “You don’t have to convince me. I know that anybody who got to love those children would be very happy.” She said it mildly, her fingers busy fiddling with her skirt again. It was the only sign that she was in the least bit nervous, but Wade took courage from that.
“So, will you marry me?”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t think so.”
Wade huffed out a sigh, half anger, half frustration. “I don’t get it. You love kids, you want to be married, you’re not involved with anyone else. Are you?” He frowned, then relaxed when she shook her head.
“No.”
“So why not? I’m not an ogre. I do an honest job. I’m fair with my employers and with the kids. I’m certainly not rich, but we’re managing. What else is there?”
“Love.”
The whispered word made him frown. “Clarissa, I’ve told you I like you. I think you’re a very special person.” He couldn’t say more than that, couldn’t tell her that he thought she had grit and gumption and an inner strength that he admired. It wasn’t, well, romantic.
Clarissa shook her head as she smiled, her eyes avoiding his. “I’m not talking about special. Special is a mean-anything word.” It was clear that she held little stock in the term. “I’m talking about love, Wade. The real thing that holds marriages together long after the children have left and the attraction has gone. The deep abiding commitment that two people make to each other until death does them part.”
“But that’s what I’m offering. At least…” Wade was beginning to wish he’d never opened his big mouth. A man shouldn’t have to work this hard to convince someone to marry him!
“Uh-uh.” She shook her head again and a few curling tendrils tumbled loose of her topknot. “You see me as this sad spinster woman who’s shriveling up inside, don’t you? And maybe I am. But I believe in the power of love to change people, to change lives.” She finally met his stare, her eyes intent. “Do you?”
He nodded slowly, visualizing the kids in ten years. “I believe your love could transform those children into even better adults. And you do love them, don’t you, Clarissa?” He waited, hoping she wouldn’t deny what was so obviously the truth.
“Of course.” She didn’t even bother to pretend.
“So do I. And that’s what this is all about. You and I are adults. We know the score, we know how many marriages fail even with love. We also know that lots of people have happy marriages without love.” He took a deep breath and continued, praying for guidance through this minefield.
“I’m offering a commitment to you. I won’t walk out on you or them, Clarissa. I will never walk away. I like you. I respect and admire you. And I want you to marry me.”
“For the children?”
He nodded. “I won’t lie. For the children. To keep them together, to give them the kind of home they won’t have if they go into foster care. Because I think you care enough about them to help me keep them together.”
She sat back in her chair, her eyes closed, head tilted back against the soft cushion as if she were praying. Wade sat there, studying her. Even with only her grandmother, Wade knew she’d enjoyed all the things he’d missed out on in his childhood, all the things he wanted for the kids.
“It would be good for you, too. You want a family, somebody to eat all that wonderful cooking, to share this place. Someone to laugh with and enjoy life. I know you’d be taking on an awful lot, but I believe you’re the kind of woman who can do that and enjoy it.” Hadn’t he seen that for himself? Wade let a tiny bit of his heart unfold to her.
“This way, you’d get to mother the kids the way you would your own. You wouldn’t have to work if you didn’t want to. I’d provide a home for us, either here or in a new place altogether, if that’s what you want.”
She was watching him now, her eyes shadowed, hiding her thoughts. Wade couldn’t tell if she was buying into the dream or not, so he played the only card he had left.
“Love could happen, Clarissa. Maybe someday. You’re a very beautiful woman, you know. When you relax and forget to be so prim and prissy, your natural beauty shines through. That’s why the kids latched on to you so quick. They’re good judges of character.”
If Wade was sure of one thing in his life it was that Clarissa Cartwright was decent, caring, loyal and true. She wouldn’t run away or back out of a deal because of something in his past. So there was no need to tell her.
Was there?
Her huffy voice broke into his thoughts. “I am not in the least prim!”
“Yes, you are. But in the nicest way.” He grinned. He was getting to her, he could tell.
Silence.
Then she spoke again.
“All right, Wade.” Her voice carried to him softly, barely audible above the crickets. “I will marry you. For the children.”
A wave of relief swelled, then cascaded all over him. Wade sighed his relief, stood and drew her up to stand beside him. In the dim light from the living room he could barely see into her eyes. She looked soft, vulnerable in the wash of twilight that made her round, solemn eyes seem lonely. He wanted to reassure her that she wasn’t making the biggest mistake in her life taking him on.
“No, that isn’t quite right.” He shook his head, suddenly wanting their relationship to be more than that. “Not just for the children. For us, too. We’ll make something good of this marriage, Clarissa. I promise you that.”
As he tilted her chin and leaned down to touch her lips with his in a promise, Wade shoved thoughts of the past out of his mind and concentrated on the shy, timid, butterfly-woman in his arms. Her lips were soft, untried, and he touched them reverently, asking a question.
When her arms lifted to encircle his neck and her mouth molded to his, he thought he had his answer. The tiny fire of hope flickering inside his heart told him they would make this work.
Only later, when he was checking into the motel, did it dawn on him that he was doing the one thing he’d promised himself he would never do. Wade would be starting his married life with a lie. He would never allow love to blossom in his heart.
But for now, there wasn’t any other way. He needed Clarissa.
Chapter Four
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re here, Blair. And you, too, Briony. You’ve made it the perfect day.” Two weeks later Clarissa hugged her dearest friends in turn, paying careful attention not to crush her wedding dress. “It’s been so long since we were all together. The three musketeers—Blair Delayney, Briony Green and Clarissa Cartwright. I miss college sometimes. We could just flop on each other’s bed and chat nonstop.”
“Of course we’re here! We wouldn’t miss this for anything! If you remember, this—” Blair waved a hand around the bride’s room at the church “—is what we chatted about.” She dabbed at her tears. “You’ve waited a long time, honey, and Wade is a wonderful man. I know you’ll both be very happy.”
“You will be happy, Prissy. I can feel it right here.” Briony tapped her chest, giggling as Clarissa rolled her eyes at her indignation of that old nickname. “I only get that feeling at special times and this is one of them.”
“I think you get that feeling when you eat as much pepperoni as you did last night. Try some antacids.” Blair winked at Clarissa, reminding her of the impromptu shower the two college friends had held in her bedroom.
They’d given her frilly nighties made of the silkiest fabric. She’d never had anything so lovely. She hadn’t wanted to tell them she was getting married because of Wade’s kids. Neither had he. In fact, they hadn’t told anyone the truth, not even the kids.
“It’s a private matter between us,” Wade had insisted. “Let them think whatever they want. I want the kids to believe we’re going to be a normal family, that their world is as secure as every other kid’s in this town.”
She’d agreed because it made things so much easier. The problem was, even on her wedding day, Clarissa still wasn’t sure what “normal” was in their case. He’d said she was pretty a lot of times. And lately his arm had taken a liking to her waist, especially if she left her hair down.
It made her breath catch when his fingers trickled through the strands and he compared it to silver in that muted growly voice. She’d learned a little about his family, too. His mother had been a silversmith. At least, she wanted to be, until her husband deserted her and she had to waitress to make ends meet.
