Debbie Macomber

Ready for Marriage


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      Ready for Marriage

      Debbie Macomber

      Dedicated to

      Carole Grande and her family

       for their loving support through the years

      CONTENTS

       CHAPTER ONE

       CHAPTER TWO

       CHAPTER THREE

       CHAPTER FOUR

       CHAPTER FIVE

       CHAPTER SIX

       CHAPTER SEVEN

       CHAPTER EIGHT

       CHAPTER NINE

       CHAPTER TEN

       CHAPTER ELEVEN

       EPILOGUE

      CHAPTER ONE

      SHE COULD ALWAYS GROVEL at Evan’s feet. Knowing him as well as she did, Mary Jo Summer hill figured he’d probably like that. The very fact that she’d made this appointment—and then had the courage to show up—proved how desperate she was. But she’d had no choice; her parents’ future rested in her hands and she knew of no better attorney to help with this mess than Evan Dryden.

      If he’d only agree to help her…

      Generally, getting in touch with an old boyfriend wouldn’t raise such anxiety, but Evan was more than just someone she’d dated a few times.

      They’d been in love, deeply in love, and had planned to marry. In ways she had yet to fully appreciate, Mary Jo still loved him. Terminating their relationship had nearly devastated her.

      And him.

      Mary Jo wasn’t proud of the way she’d ended it. Mailing him back the beautiful pearl engagement ring had been cowardly, but she’d known she couldn’t tell him face-to-face. She should have realized Evan would never leave it at that. She’d been a fool to believe he’d take back the ring without confronting her.

      He’d come to her angry and hurt, demanding an explanation. It quickly became apparent that he wouldn’t accept the truth, and given no option, Mary Jo concocted a wild story about meeting another teacher and falling in love with him.

      Telling such a bold-faced lie had magnified her guilt a hundredfold. But it was the only way she could make Evan believe her. The only way she could extricate herself from his life.

      Her lie had worked beautifully, she noted with a twinge of pain. He’d recovered—just the way his mother had said he would. He hadn’t wasted any time getting on with his life, either.

      Within a matter of months he was dating again. Pictures of Evan, with Jessica Kellerman at his side, had appeared regularly in the newspaper society pages. Unable to resist knowing more, Mary Jo had researched the Kellerman family. Her investigation had told her everything she needed to know. Jessica would make the perfect Dryden wife. The Kellermans were wealthy and established, unlike the Summer-hills, who didn’t rate so much as a mention in Boston’s social register.

      Later the same year, Mary Jo had heard rumors of the extravagant Dryden family wedding. She been out of town that week at a teaching seminar, so she’d missed the newspaper coverage, but talk of the wedding and huge reception that followed had lingered for months. It was called the social event of the year.

      That was nearly three years ago. Evan and Jessica were an old married couple by now. For all she knew, they might have already started a family. The twinge of regret became a knot in her stomach. Evan would make a wonderful father. They’d talked of a family, and she remembered how eager he was for children.

      This wasn’t exactly the best time for her to reenter his life, but she had no alternative. Her parents’ future depended on Evan.

      “Mr. Dryden will see you now,” the receptionist said, breaking into Mary Jo’s thoughts.

      Her head shot up and she nearly lost her nerve right then and there. Her heart pounded furiously. In a dead panic she tightened her hold on her purse strap, fighting the urge to dash straight out of her chair and out of the office.

      “If you’ll come this way.”

      “Of course,” Mary Jo managed, although the words came out in gurglelike sounds, as if she were submerged in ten feet of water.

      She followed the receptionist down a wide, plush-carpeted hallway to Evan’s office. His name was on the door, engraved on a gold plate. The receptionist ushered her in, and left.

      Mary Jo recognized Evan’s secretary immediately, although they’d never met. Mrs. Sterling was exactly the way he’d described her. Late middle-age. Short and slim, with the energy of a Tasmanian devil. Formidably efficient. He’d claimed that the woman could easily reorganize the world if she had to, and that she’d willingly take on any project he asked of her. She was loyal to a fault.

      “Evan asked me to send you right in,” Mrs. Sterling said, leading the way to the closed inner door. She opened it, then asked, “Can I get you a cup of coffee?” Her tone was friendly but unmistakably curious.

      “No, thank you.” Mary Jo stepped over the threshold, her heart in her throat. She wondered how she’d feel seeing Evan again after all this time. She’d already decided that a facade was necessary. She planned to approach him as if they were long-lost friends. Casual friends. With a smile, she’d shake his hand, inquire about Jessica and catch up on events in his life.

      Now that only a few feet stood between her and the man she loved, Mary Jo found she couldn’t move, barely even breathe.

      Nothing, she realized, could have prepared her for the force of these emotions. Within seconds she was drowning in feelings she didn’t know how to handle. She felt swamped and panicky, as if she were going down for the third time.

      She conjured up Gary’s face, the man she’d dated off and on for the past few months, but that didn’t help. Next she struggled to come up with some clever comment, some joke, anything. Instead, all she could remember was that the man she’d loved three years ago, loved now, was married to someone else.

      Evan sat at his desk, writing; only now did he look up. Their eyes met and for the briefest moment, he seemed to experience the same sense of loss and regret she was feeling. He blinked and the emotion disappeared, wiped out with a mere movement of his eyes.

      “Hello, Evan,” she said, amazed at how casual she sounded. “I imagine it’s a surprise to see me after all this time.”

      He stood and extended his hand for a perfunctory shake, and when he spoke his voice was crisp and professional. “Mary Jo. It’s good to see you.”

      Mary Jo nearly laughed out loud. Evan never did know how to tell a good lie. He was anything but pleased to see her again.

      He motioned toward the chair on the other side of his desk. “Sit down.”

      She did, gratefully, uncertain how much longer her knees would support her. She set her purse on the carpet and waited for her heart rate to return to normal before she told him the purpose of her visit.

      “Did Mary offer you a cup of coffee?”

      “Yes. I’m fine, thank you,” she said hurriedly. Her hands were trembling.

      Evan sat down again and waited.

      “I—guess you’re wondering why I’m here….”

      He leaned back in his chair, looking cool and composed. It’d been three long years since she’d last seen him. He hadn’t changed, at least not outwardly. He remained one of the handsomest men she’d ever seen. His hair was as dark as his eyes, the color of rich Swiss chocolate. His features were well defined, almost chiseled, but that was