Marry Me Read online

  Marry Me

  By Kristin Wallace

  Published by Astraea Press

  www.astraeapress.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

  MARRY ME

  Copyright © 2013 KRISTIN WALLACE

  ISBN 978-1-62135-221-1

  Cover Art Designed by BOOK BEAUTIFUL

  Thank you to my family, who never stopped encouraging this crazy impulse to be a writer. I would not be the writer I am today without the friendship, encouragement and advice from everyone at Florida Romance Writers. Thank you for helping to make this dream come true.

  Chapter One

  The past is like a revolving door, and if people aren’t careful it’ll come back and whop them in the backside. Hard.

  Like Julia Richardson’s just did.

  “Julia, we… Sarah needs you. It’s the baby.”

  Two sentences, barely audible, as her former stepsister’s husband fought to get the words out. Those two sentences had Julia behind the wheel in the dead of night, headed back to the small Southern town — and the family — she’d successfully avoided for fifteen years.

  She looked in the rearview mirror and spotted an errant, titian-colored curl sticking straight up. With a stifled groan, she mashed it down. Ah, humidity, such a lovely thing. The farther south she got, the more it curled. By the time she reached her destination she expected to look like a dead ringer for a certain redheaded, singing orphan. If said orphan was a full-figured Amazon with a bad attitude.

  By the time Julia drove past the quaintly painted sign, which proclaimed she was entering Covington Falls, Georgia — Covington for the founding family, Falls for the trickle of water which emptied into Lake Rice, the name of the other founding family — the sun was blazing. Surprisingly, she knew exactly where to go. Or maybe not so surprising since it didn’t look like much had changed in fifteen years. It still looked like a small and dainty cousin of Savannah.

  She turned down a tree-lined lane that could have doubled for a 50s television show and a moment later pulled into the driveway of Grace’s house. A white, two-story Colonial number with a wrap-around porch, complete with a swing. Rounding out this picture of all-American perfection was an honest to goodness white picket fence. Julia stared at the house, wondering what in the world she was doing here. She so didn’t belong in a place like this.

  Before she could back out of the driveway, the front door opened, and a woman stepped out onto the porch.

  Grace. Ex-stepmother #3. Mother of Sarah and the reason for the midnight run.

  Julia got out of the car unsure what kind of reception to expect. Before she knew it, Grace flew down the stairs with arms outstretched.

  A familiar scent of cookies and violets invaded her senses. Exactly the way an angel might smell, she imagined. When she ‘d been thirteen, and angry at the world, she hadn’t been able to hug Grace back. Now Julia did. Then didn’t want to let go.

  Grace pulled back, taking Julia’s face in her warm hands. “How I’ve missed you.”

  “You have?”

  She smiled. “You have no idea.”

  “I’ve missed you, too.”

  “Let me look at you,” Grace said, stepping back to get the full view. “Why, you’re gorgeous. I always knew you would be, but my goodness you’re stunning.”

  “You look good yourself.”

  And she did, Julia thought. There were a few more lines, and a lot more grey hairs, but the sparkle was still there. Only now there was a deeper contentment in those blue eyes Julia didn’t remember from before.

  “I can’t believe how quickly you got here,” Grace said.

  “Well, it’s not like I had to bother getting off work. Getting fired sort of opens up your day.”

  “I got your e-mail. Your boss had some kind of heart condition, and he had to sell the business?”

  Julia nodded. “Right, and the new owner brought in his own marketing people.”

  “The poor man. It must have been difficult for him.”

  “I’m sure. The fantastic thing is I can’t even be mad at him, because how can you blame the guy for wanting to live a while longer?”

  Grace chuckled a little. “I’m sure you’ll find something else. Maybe even sooner than you think.”

  Julia spun around at the odd statement. “What do you mean?”

  For a second Grace almost looked guilty, but in the next moment she clapped her hands. “Look at me, letting you stand here when you’re probably dead on your feet! Let me help you get your bags inside. Are you hungry?”

  “I’d rather go see Sarah.”

  “Okay, but bags first, and I need to tell my husband where we’re going.”

  Julia took a tentative step inside the house. “I got your letter about him having a stroke. How is he doing?”

  “He has his days, though he’s much better. His speech is getting clearer, and he’s regained some strength on his bad side. We’re taking it one day at a time. Letting God handle all the big stuff.”

  Julia bit her tongue. She’d just arrived, and now wasn’t the time to get into the topic of her skepticism about God and faith.

  Grace smiled.

  “What?”

  “Still have the same doubts about God I see.”

  Julia looked at the floor.

  Grace tilted Julia’s chin back up. “You have to come to it in your own way.”

  She walked away before Julia could respond. On the second floor, Grace stopped in front of the second bedroom on the right and opened the door. Julia’s breath seized, and she came to an abrupt halt. It was the same one she’d occupied as a teenager. She was swamped with an instant flashback of the first time she’d stepped into this room. She’d been carting an enormous designer suitcase her mother had bought for the “trip”. Of course, Julia had known it was more like an “exile”, away from her mother and stepfather #2.

  Julia had dragged the blasted thing up the stairs herself, having refused to let her father touch either her or her belongings. She’d glanced down to contemplate a spot on her thigh where a bruise would surely form, and then looked up. Into a fairy room. Fairies on the wallpaper, on a gorgeous poster, and even on the white shag throw rug.

  Somehow, Julia had known the woman who’d become her father’s third wife had done it. For her.

  Grace turned. “Are you all right?”

  Julia snapped back to the present. “Sure.”

  “I can put you in another room,” Grace said. “Sarah’s old room, if you like.”

  “No, this is fine.” At least the fairies were gone now, replaced with light blue paint. She stepped over the threshold and put her bag down on the bed.

  “For the longest time, I didn’t even know if you read my letters,” Grace said.

  “It was pretty hard to ignore those scented, handwritten letters.” Julia could hear the bite in her voice, but couldn’t help it.

  Grace winced. “It was too much. I told myself I should leave you alone. You’d been hurt enough, but I didn’t want you to think we’d forgotten you. I wanted you to know what was going on in our lives. When you eventually started answering them, I hoped—”

  “I’d come back?”

  Grace flushed. “It was silly of me, I know.”

  Great, in the house five minutes, and she’d already hurt Grace�
��s feelings. Julia tried to be nice.

  She drifted to the window, which looked down onto the street. “So, you married Mr. Graham from next door?”

  If Grace looked surprised by the olive branch, it was only for a moment. “Yes, but then I’ve known John all my life. He has a son Seth. He’s your age. Do you remember him?”

  “Vaguely. He didn’t talk much.”

  Grace smiled. “He’s a minister, so he has to talk more now. Of course, I told you about his poor wife Beth.”

  Julia nodded. The letter telling her about Seth’s wife’s battle with cancer coming to an end had broken her heart, even though she’d never met the woman.

  Julia turned, arms folded. “How could you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Get married again? Your first husband died, and the second one dumped you. How in the world do you get to a place where you can trust your heart to someone else?”

  Grace’s face crumpled. “Oh, Julia. Maybe if you’d come to the wedding, or Sarah’s, you would have seen—”

  “Seen what? That there is such a thing as a happy ending? I was cured of such romantic notions by the time I was ten. I guess I should have sucked it up and come to Sarah’s wedding. I know she was hurt because I didn’t, but I made a vow to myself I wouldn’t attend another wedding as long as I live, and it’s one I intend never to break.”

  Grace reared back a little, and Julia was immediately ashamed of her outburst. She was the world’s biggest jerk. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, no. It’s fine,” she murmured. “I’ll go tell John we’re leaving, and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  The door closed with a soft click, and Julia sank onto the bed. This had been such a bad idea. She should grab her suitcase and get out of here right now. The only thing stopping her was the memory of Eric’s choked voice on the other end of the phone.

  A few minutes after finally returning downstairs, they were on their way to the hospital.

  Julia finally broke the stilted silence. “What’s going on with Sarah? Eric didn’t say much on the phone.”

  Grace concentrated on the road. “There were some contractions. The doctor managed to get them to stop, but it was touch and go for a while. We spent the night praying, I can tell you.”

  “Is the baby going to be all right? And Sarah?”

  “She has to be careful right now, but I’m sure she’ll give you all the details when we get there.”

  “Why did Eric ask me to come down here, anyway?”

  Grace glanced over. “I think they’re hoping you’ll be the answer to their prayers.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ll let them fill you in.”

  “Why can’t you fill me in?”

  Another flick of the eyes in Julia’s direction. “They made me promise.”

  A prickle of unease worked its way down her spine. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Grace patted Julia’s hand. “Don’t worry. You can always say no.”

  The queasy feeling escalated. “Why do I feel like I should get right back in my car and escape before it’s too late?”

  Grace chuckled, and for the first time Julia realized the angel act was completely an act.

  Why had she never noticed Grace was evil?

  ****

  “She’s changed a bit,” Grace said, as they looked into the hospital room where Sarah was sleeping.

  Julia couldn’t speak over the lump in her throat. The volleyball size bulge in Sarah’s middle was the least of the changes. There was nothing of the little pipsqueak who’d followed her around like a frisky puppy for two years. Sarah’s honey-blond hair, which used to hang past her waist in thick braids, had been cut short. The baby fat was gone, and now she looked like a young Grace. Her former stepsister had grown into a beautiful woman.

  As if sensing a presence in the room, Sarah stirred and opened her eyes. She spotted Grace first. “Mom, I thought I told you to go home and rest.”

  “I know, honey, but there’s someone who wanted to see you.”

  Sarah turned and looked at the tall redhead standing next to her mother. For a moment, her brows furrowed in confusion, then her eyes widened in delight. “Julia!”

  “I’ll give you guys a few minutes,” Grace said, as she slipped out of the room.

  Julia laughed as Sarah tried to lever herself up in the bed. “Don’t get up,” she said, leaning down to hug her stepsister. She took a deep breath. One thing hadn’t changed. Sarah still smelled like sunshine, albeit with a hint of the wonderful antiseptic hospitals loved to use.

  Sarah looked her over and grumbled. “Look at you! All your glorious hair, and a figure to die for. I think I hate you!”

  Julia perched on the side of the bed and rubbed Sarah’s extended belly. “This is just as beautiful.”

  “This is Mary.”

  She touched her lips to Sarah’s stomach. “Hi, Mary.”

  “Eric told me you were coming, but I was afraid to believe it. The Prodigal Daughter has come home at last.”

  Julia held on to her smile and rolled her eyes. “Two seconds in the room, and I’m already getting Bible analogies. Please don’t go killing any farm animals to welcome me home.”

  Sarah’s eyes twinkled with humor. “I’m impressed you even know the story of the Prodigal Son. You weren’t exactly open to religion when you lived with us.”

  “It was hard not to absorb some of it, but you know I didn’t drive through the night to trade Bible stories. What’s going on? I’ve been scared out of my mind, and Grace has been no help whatsoever.”

  “I started having contractions. We almost lost the baby,” Sarah said in a shaky voice.

  “Oh, honey,” Julia said, rubbing Sarah’s belly again, as if willing the tiny life to stay in there longer.

  “They gave me medication and finally got them to stop.”

  “Will it happen again?”

  “It’s possible. They think I’ll be able to carry the baby to term, but I have to be careful. They want me on almost total bed rest for the next couple months.”

  “Sounds sensible.”

  Sarah took a deep breath and reached for Julia’s hand. “I need your help.”

  Julia squeezed Sarah’s cold fingers, rubbing them to restore some warmth. “You know I’ll do whatever I can.”

  “I need you to run Marry Me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s my wedding planning business.”

  Julia burst out laughing. Only Sarah didn’t join in. A tight, queasy feeling returned. “You’re not serious?”

  “You must think I’m terribly selfish to have you come all this way and spring this on you, but I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t so important.”

  Julia jumped up and started pacing. “Has this pregnancy made you a touch crazy? Or have hormones replaced your common sense? I know we haven’t seen each other in fifteen years, but surely you remember my feelings about marriage and especially weddings. They were pretty firmly established even when I was a teenager.”

  Sarah calmly watched Julia pace. “You still have hang-ups about love and weddings?”

  “You try dealing with your parents’ divorce and then gaining two stepmothers and two stepfathers by the time you’re thirteen, and see how well adjusted you turn out. How willing to believe in true love and soul mates.”

  “You don’t think love exists?”

  “Love is the excuse we use to do whatever we want, no matter who it hurts.”

  Sarah’s eyes widened. “I knew you were cynical, but seriously that’s—”

  “Realistic?”

  “I was going to say sad.”

  “Which is precisely why you should get someone else to do this. I’m liable to tell your couples they should run for the hills.”

  “You wouldn’t. Especially not when you know why Marry Me needs to stay open. I won’t be able to handle the business for the next several months, and if it closes it would affect a lot more than my client
s.”

  Julia came to a stop. “What?”

  “My husband, Eric, runs a community center and shelter for at-risk kids.”

  “You have those here?” Julia asked, arching a brow.

  “Big cities haven’t cornered the market on kids in crisis, you know.”

  “Sadly. What does your husband’s center have to do with your wedding planning business?”

  “The income from my business allows him to work while taking a minimum salary, so most of the donations go directly back to the Center.”

  “So, you’re essentially supporting your family through Marry Me?”

  “Yes, it’s what we agreed on when Eric decided to open the Center. If my business were to close, even for a few months, we’d lose the income, and with the baby coming—”

  “In other words, you’re in a mess,” Julia said, sinking into a chair next to the bed.

  Sarah winced. “It’s our own fault for not planning better, I know, but frankly we never thought it would become an issue. We’d given up hope of ever having a baby. We tried for so many years and—” she broke off, overcome by emotion.

  Julia reached over and stroked Sarah’s hair. “I know. Grace told me.”

  “I wish you’d have been here. I could have used a big sister. There were so many times I wanted to call, but I never knew if you’d welcome it.”

  Julia could hear the hurt in Sarah’s voice, the same as with Grace. “Let’s not get into old history right now. You’re under enough stress. Why don’t we get back to the subject of me running a wedding planning business? Are you sure there isn’t someone better suited for this? Someone who might have a clue what to do? I don’t know a garter from a garden hose.”

  “You’d learn. You’re so smart, and you do have business experience.”

  “I’m in marketing. I tell people who’s buying what and when, which is not at all the same thing as planning somebody’s nuptials.”

  Sarah held up her hand and started ticking off a lightning-fast rebuttal on her fingers. “You’re organized. You know how to create budgets and stick to them. You know how to research. You understand what makes people tick better than anyone I’ve ever met. You’ve been a manager, so you’re used to delegating. You’re a born leader. And best of all, you won’t let anyone push you around, be it a spoiled bride, a demanding mother, or an unscrupulous vendor out to pad his bill.”