Marriage By Necessity

“None that can help her. She’s as alone in the world as she ever was. That’s why I’ve agreed to take responsibility for Matty.”

“Oh, Nate.” Arlene covered her mouth with her hand for a moment. “I know how much you used to love her, but to do this for a woman who broke your heart.”

“What happened between Sarah and me is in the past. It’s about what’s best for the boy now.”

“A child who isn’t yours—”

“Mom. It’s settled.” She winced at the hardness he couldn’t keep out of his voice.

In silence they watched as Harm came out of his cabin and moved slowly down toward the lakeshore, tackle box in hand, followed by Buster. The old man was probably heading out to try and catch a mess of late-season pan fish for his supper; it was anyone’s guess where the cat was headed. The growl of Harm’s old Evinrude outboard motor broke the morning quiet.

“When?” Arlene asked after a few moments.

“We can pick up the license Friday afternoon. Mayor Holder, over at Lakeview, has us penciled in for five o’clock that afternoon. Sarah’s surgery is scheduled for seven a.m. Saturday morning.”

“So soon?” Impulsively his mother reached out and laid her hand over his. He turned his palm up and closed his hand around her cold fingers.

“It has to be, Mom. I can’t let Matty grow up the way Sarah did, shuffled from one foster home to the next, no security, no place to put down roots. He needs stability and a family. I’ll do my best to give him that.”

“When you put it that way I suppose there’s no use me arguing with you. You’ve always been the most stubborn of my kids, and that’s saying something. Always trying to get the rest of the world to march to your drummer.” She gave his hand a hard squeeze then fumbled in her coat pocket for a tissue.

“Don’t you think I’m up to the challenge?”

“Of course you are. You’ll make a wonderful father! Maybe this is the Almighty’s way of giving you—”

He knew where she was going with that line of thought and was glad that she stopped herself so he didn’t have to.

“God, I wish I had a cigarette,” she said, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.

“You haven’t had a smoke for over a year. Don’t go backsliding now.”

“Easy for you to say,” she sniffed. “Do I look okay?”

“You look fine.”

“I’m so glad I didn’t launch into Sarah with both barrels. Or you, for that matter. Two whole days of wondering what she was doing here. Your father warned me not—”

“Will you tell him, Mom? It would save me some time.”

“I’ll tell him,” she blew out a puff of breath. “He always liked Sarah but I don’t think he’s going to be any happier about this than I am.”

“You don’t have to be happy about it. Just stand by me.”

“Till my last breath,” she said fiercely. “Let’s go inside. I suppose I should get to know Matty a little better so he won’t be afraid to stay with me while…while Sarah is in the hospital.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Nate bent his head to give her a peck on the cheek. She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a quick, hard hug.

“I know you think you’re doing the right thing, and I suppose you are. But, oh Nate, she hurt you so badly.”

“We hurt each other, Mom, but that’s not what’s important now. She came to me as a last resort. There’s nothing left between us but a little boy who needs our love.”

She put her hand on his forearm as he turned to go back inside. “Nate, I just thought of something. What if the doctors are wrong? What if the surgery is a success? If Sarah is granted her miracle, what will you do then?”

CHAPTER THREE

HER WEDDING DAY was over.

In a few hours they would leave for the hospital. The trailer was quiet so Nate must have fallen asleep at last. The walls of the mobile home were thin and she had heard him tossing long into the night. It hadn’t always been that way. When they were married—before—he had always slept like a log, barely moving from the position in which he fell asleep. Always with her snuggled tight against him, safe and protected in his arms.

Best to stay away from memories like that.

It was why she dreaded the small hours of the night—the barriers she kept strong and in good repair during the day failed her in the darkness. The week had passed quickly. There had been lawyer’s visits, small domestic chores, precious time spent with Matty as he played with Becca and became more at ease with Nate and his family. But the nights had been long and stressful, for both of them.

She glanced around the shadowed room. All of Matty’s things were arranged to his satisfaction. His favorite SpongeBob SquarePants lamp was on top of the dresser. His clothes were folded in the drawers and hanging in the little closet next to hers, his toys piled into a new bright yellow storage unit in the corner. The fireproof box with all the documentation Nate would need when he became responsible for her son was sitting on Nate’s dresser.

She had sold or given away most of her possessions except for those she could pack in the minivan. Still, it had been difficult to find room for all of it in Nate’s trailer. There simply wasn’t much storage space. Matty’s baby book, the albums with pictures of his father and his Taylor relatives, were stored on the top shelf of the closet along with the few photographs various sets of foster parents had taken of her over the years. There was also the video of her when she was pregnant that David had made, which ended when she was seven months along, and he died. Later, she had taken some footage of Matty when he was small to add to it, but her heart was never in it and she’d ended up selling the video camera to one of her co-workers at HomeContractors so she could buy a still camera.

She was a throwback, she guessed. She loved photographs, the kind you could hold in your hand, put in an album to linger over, savor, relive. She had taken roll after roll of film of her son, a set for each year of his life. The camera was in the safe box, too. She hoped someday Matty would want to learn to use it when he was old enough.

There were no pictures of her and Nate among the keepsakes, however. She had destroyed them the day their divorce became final.

And there had been no pictures taken today, although she suspected Tessa had a camera in her car. She and her husband, Keith, a long-distance trucker, had acted as their witnesses for the short, informal ceremony in the mayor’s office at the back of the redbrick building that housed Lakeview’s six-man police force, as well as its municipal offices. There had been no rice to throw, no cake to cut. And no toasts to a long and happy life together. Because there wouldn’t be one.

Their whirlwind remarriage was probably already the talk of the entire population around Cottonwood Lake. More than once Sarah had caught the mayor taking in every detail of her simple navy blue dress and Nate’s dark suit. There had been an absence of flowers, except for the nosegay of fall mums that Arlene had pressed into her hands when they dropped Matty off at her house—all brides need a bouquet she’d said, shrugging off Sarah’s thanks. And the lack of other family and friends in attendance, and that no further celebration appeared planned to mark the event, was all grist for the gossip mill of a very small town. It was Nate who remembered the ring, a simple gold band that fit perfectly but felt heavy and unfamiliar on her hand. And a kiss, light and soft and warm as sunshine on her mouth. Another memory that wouldn’t go away.

A shadow blocked the light from the hallway. She turned her head to see Nate’s broad shoulders filling the narrow doorway. He was fully dressed except for his shoes. He was wearing jeans and a gray chamois shirt, open at the throat, the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows. He braced one shoulder against the door frame and pushed his hand into the front pocket of his jeans. The casual, masculine clothes suited him, just as his Army uniform had. She could never picture Nate wearing a suit every day, or working behind a desk, an office-bound, cubicle-dweller chained to a keyboard and monitor. He was a man born to be outside, to work with his hands.

“You should be asleep,” he said quietly.

“I’m not sleepy.”

“The doctor said you should get all the rest you can.”

“I’ll have eternity to rest.” She smoothed the blanket over Matty’s knees. She was tired and scared and her emotions were too close to the surface to easily control. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound melodramatic.”

“You shouldn’t dwell on the worst-case scenario.”

“You always dwell on the worst-case scenario when you’re a single parent.”

There was a heartbeat’s silence before he answered. “You’re not a single parent anymore, remember.”

“No, I’m not. Not anymore,” she whispered.

Matty frowned in his sleep, then he raised his little fists and rubbed his eyes. “Mommy,” he called, sitting up, looking around with an unfocused stare. He began to sob, caught up in a bad dream.

“Shhh, baby,” she crooned, pulling him close. “I’m right here.”

Sarah didn’t need a child psychologist to tell her why Matty was suddenly having nightmares. His whole world had been turned upside down. He didn’t understand the gravity of her condition, at least she prayed he didn’t, but he knew something was wrong and the uncertainty of his new life scared him.