Despite what he said she’d done for him, Maryellen knew it was Jon’s love that had redeemed her life.
Forty
Friday evening Grace arrived at Cliff’s an hour later than she’d planned. She felt exhausted and worried and guilty all at once. Maryellen needed her; Cliff wanted to set the date for the wedding and she was scheduled to leave for a library conference first thing Monday morning. With all these demands, she didn’t feel she was much help to anyone.
Cliff walked out to the car to meet her, and Grace swore if he said one word about her being late, she’d burst into tears.
He opened the car door and instantly sensed something was wrong. “Bad day?”
She nodded as she climbed out. “I drove to Maryellen’s to see what I could do for her,” she said. The house was a disaster, her daughter’s spirits were low, and Jon seemed about to collapse under the burden of his responsibilities. He was cooking again, too, whenever The Lighthouse needed him to cover a shift. To top everything, Katie had the flu, which meant the little girl needed constant care. She clung to Maryellen and wouldn’t allow Grace to hold or comfort her. “I stayed and did a couple loads of wash, and cleaned up a bit, but Cliff, they’re in bad shape.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
He was sweet to offer. “I don’t know. Offhand, I can’t think of anything.” She shrugged. “Perhaps bring them dinner one night.”
“Consider it done.”
Grace was seriously thinking about not going to the conference and spending the time with her daughter, instead. She’d hate to cancel; the money for her to attend had come out of their tight library budget and no one else could take her place on such short notice. The thought of wasting the round-trip ticket to San Francisco, plus the conference fee, depressed her.
“I don’t know what to do,” Grace said as she slid her arm around Cliff’s waist. Together they walked toward the house.
“I don’t suppose now would be a good time to ask you to elope, would it?”
He couldn’t possibly know how tempting that was. “Maryellen and Kelly would never forgive me.” Olivia wouldn’t, either, but she didn’t mention her best friend. Of the three, Olivia would be the most sympathetic.
“Lisa would feel the same way,” he admitted grudgingly. “I had no idea it was so difficult to schedule a wedding. I hate this waiting. I can see us six months from now, still searching for the perfect date, working around everyone else’s schedule.”
“Maybe we should do it,” she said, thinking out loud. “Elope, I mean.”
Cliff came to an abrupt halt and dropped his arm from around her waist. “You aren’t just saying that, are you?”
Grace supposed she’d meant it more as a comment than a suggestion, but then realized how badly she wanted to end this craziness and—just marry him. “Olivia could perform the ceremony.”
“We can get the license Monday morning.”
Then she remembered she was flying out on Monday. “Oh, no—I’ve got that conference.”
“Where is it again?”
“San Francisco.”
Cliff smiled. “All the better. We’ll be married there.”
That sounded perfectly wonderful, if not for one minor detail. “Cliff, I’m attending a huge library conference.”
“We’ll go on a real honeymoon later.”
“You’re serious?”
“Are you?” He studied her as if he wasn’t sure.
“I…I was just thinking I might have to forget about the conference altogether. Maryellen and Jon need my help, and I’m feeling guilty about not doing more.”
“Can you cancel out at this late date?”
“Well, yes, although it’s a problem. And, Cliff, I want to go. I have workshops scheduled each day, plus there’s a banquet one night and I’m even on a panel about literacy.”
“Then you should go. Why don’t we hire a housecleaning service to help Maryellen out? We’ll arrange it for Monday. And we’ll have The Lighthouse send out a few meals. Then there’s no need for you to feel guilty—and you and I will go to San Francisco.”
Grace stared at him. “You are a miracle worker,” she said.
“Aw, shucks, ma’am,” he muttered with fake modesty.
When she laughed, he said, “You do have some free time during the conference, don’t you?”
“Some. On Wednesday afternoon.” She’d hoped to steal away and do a little sightseeing.
“Some is enough. We won’t need much.”
“But—”
“Are you looking for an excuse to get out of this?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Good, because I’m going to make it happen. Wednesday afternoon it is, March eighth. Don’t you worry about a thing.”
They weren’t even inside the house yet, but she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him hard. “We’re running away to get married!” Cliff lifted her off the ground and with a shout of jubilation, whirled her around and around.
Cal came out of the barn and gave them an odd look. He stood there, apparently waiting for an explanation.
“We’re getting married,” Grace told him when Cliff set her feet back on the ground.
Cal grinned. “I…th-th—figured as much.”
“Next week,” Cliff added.
Cal straightened his hat. “You got that m-m-mare coming from Ken-tuck-ky.”
Cliff’s smile slowly faded, but then he shook his head. “You can handle her. You’ll have to, because I’ll be in San Francisco with my bride.”
“Y-yes!” Cal laughed and nodded. “Go!” he yelled, waving them off.
Cliff wrapped his arm around her waist. “If we waited for the perfect time, it could take years. I, for one, am not willing to wait a minute longer than necessary.”
“Are we going to tell anyone?”
“And risk the wrath of the entire universe?” he teased. “Lisa will probably hire a hit man and I know your daughters won’t be thrilled with us, either. That’s the risk we’ll have to take. As far as I’m concerned, no one needs to know we’re married until we decide to tell them.”
“But if we don’t tell everyone we’re married, I won’t be able to move in with you.”
“Why not?”
“I can’t let my family assume we’re living together.”
“If I had my say, you’d be living with me now.”
“Cliff!”
“All right, all right,” he said, opening the front door to let her into the house. The fire in the fireplace warmed the room, welcoming her, and she glanced around at the log walls, the simple, solid furniture, the old-fashioned braided rug. This would be her home….
“We’ll announce that we’re married when we return and let the chips fall where they may,” he said.
“Good.” That solved that. “We’ll schedule a wedding reception at a date convenient to all.”
“That’ll be years from now.”
“Okay,” she amended, smiling. “We’ll schedule the reception when it’s convenient to most.” Then, because it was impossible to contain her excitement, Grace turned into Cliff’s arms and kissed him again.
“Wednesday can’t come soon enough for me,” he murmured, his voice husky against her ear.
“Do you know how long the waiting period is in California?” she asked. It was three days in Washington State, and she didn’t want any last-minute problems if it happened to be longer in California.
“No,” Cliff said, “but I’ll find out. Now don’t worry—we’re getting married, come hell or high water.”
Dinner—a beef stew—was warming in the Crock-Pot, and Grace set the table. She felt as if she was walking on air. Every now and then, she’d catch Cliff’s eye and they’d share a smile. Once, Grace broke into giggles of delight. She felt so lighthearted, so…happy.
Cliff disappeared into his office after dinner and returned about twenty minutes later. “I went online and there’s no waiting period in California.”
“Great!” All their plans were coming together.
“And while I was at it, I booked my flight.” His eyes shone. “It’s the same one as yours.”
“How’d you know?”
“Easy. You told me when your flight was leaving, so all I had to do was check the airlines for that departure time.”
Cliff said he’d ask Cal to drive them to the airport early Monday morning. That meant everything was settled. “Have I told you lately how brilliant you are?” she asked in an admiring voice.
“I am, aren’t I?” he said, sounding smug. “If it means I can marry you next week, you’d be amazed at how smart I can get.”
Cliff put in a DVD; she hardly noticed what, nor did she care. They sat together in front of the television. Cliff’s legs were stretched out, his boots propped on the coffee table. He’d slipped his arm around her shoulders and her fingers were linked with his. In a matter of days, she would be this man’s wife.…
Cliff leaned down and rested his cheek against her hair. Sighing, he asked, “Are you enjoying the movie?”
She had a vague impression of car chases and lots of action. What she enjoyed wasn’t the movie, but being with him. “Not really. Why?”
“I’m going to need help reorganizing the bedroom.”
“Now?”
“Might as well, since you’re moving in with me the minute we get back from San Francisco.”
“What about my house?” All of a sudden she realized that their decision to elope brought immediate consequences.
Cliff shrugged. “That’s up to you and the girls. Keep it, sell it, rent it—do whatever you want as long as you promise you won’t live anywhere but with me.”
“Cliff, what about Buttercup and Sherlock?”
“They’ll adjust to a new home.” He seemed so confident. “Hey,” he muttered, “you’re not having second thoughts, are you?”
When he was looking at her like this, his eyes intense with love, there wasn’t a thing in the world that concerned her.
“No—but I don’t know anything about horses.”
“You don’t need to.”
“What about my job?”
“Do you enjoy working?”
“I love it.”
“Then keep your job.” He frowned. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Laughing, Grace grabbed his shirt collar and brought his mouth down to hers. Then she kissed him with everything she had. “Does that answer your question?” she asked.
Forty-One
Linnette pulled onto the side of the road and looked at her MapQuest printout. According to the directions, Cliff Harding’s ranch, where Cal Washburn was employed as a trainer, was right here. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it wasn’t this massive piece of property. The field in front was bordered by a white fence that stretched as far as the eye could see. There were a dozen horses grazing, their bodies sleek and beautiful. Linnette could tell they were valuable.
