bolt of recognition lit her face. She’d heard of him and presumably not in a favorable way. “She’s waiting for you in room 219. Down the hall, last room on the right.”
Pretending to be Belle’s husband—even for a few minutes—was damn close to a root canal without anesthesia. Not because he hated her. He wished it were that simple. No, Harlan had been cursed with still loving her. She’d put every ounce of faith and trust in him since the day they met in first grade. And instead of marrying Belle as planned, he’d knocked up her maid of honor.
He’d run out on their wedding because he was nineteen and nowhere near ready to be tied down. Only he ended up married to Belle’s best friend a few months later. Correction, former best friend. And he certainly didn’t do it out of love. It had been one hundred percent obligation and it came back to bite him in the ass. Molly walked out of their lives within a year, leaving him to raise their daughter alone. Which suited him fine. He’d rather raise his child in a happy, single-parent home than with a woman who blamed their little girl for ruining her life.
“Mind if I come in?” Harlan poked his head in the room. Belle jumped as if a mousetrap had gone off under her chair.
“Not at all.” Trudy beamed from her bed. “I’ve been waiting for you. Come sit with me.” She weakly motioned to a chair on the other side of the bed. Her appearance took him by surprise, but he tried not to show it. She’d always been a robust woman. The last time he’d seen her, she’d taken Dukie—her beloved schnauzer—for one of their mile-long hikes. The woman before him was almost unrecognizable.
“Hey, babe.” He set his hat on the table next to Belle, leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.
The steel daggers that shot from Belle’s icy blue eyes were just about enough to knock him dead on the floor. Okay, so he didn’t need to kiss her, but he wanted their relationship to look believable.
“Belle, what’s the matter with you? Give your husband-to-be a hug. Only one more day.” Trudy clapped. “I can’t wait.”
Belle plastered a smile across her face and rose from her chair. Even in faded jeans, flip-flops and a plain white tank top, she looked like a million bucks. He used to call her his platinum angel. When the sunlight hit her long blond hair just so, she had an ethereal glow about her. He caught a glimpse of it this morning.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave it a squeeze. A little too much of one if you asked him. The scent of lavender vanilla filled his nostrils. Some things never changed. She still used the same shampoo.
“Make this quick,” she whispered in his ear. Her warm breath against his skin sent a shiver down his spine and straight to his... Nope, he needed to focus on the job he’d come to do. She released her choke hold and entwined her fingers in his. Her death grip almost brought him to his knees. “Grammy, Harlan and I would rather get married at the courthouse instead of having a big wedding.”
“Nonsense.” Trudy waved her hand. “I’ve already paid for everything.”
The comment was a harsh reminder of the money Trudy had shelled out for the first wedding that had never happened. He had tried to repay her, but she refused to take it. Telling him to keep it for the baby. And that cut him even deeper.
“It’s not that, Trudy.” Harlan’s mind raced for an excuse. “The church is double-booked tomorrow and we can’t get married there.”
“What do you mean double-booked?” Trudy scowled. “I’ve been a member of that church since I came to this country as a child. Everyone knows tomorrow is your wedding day.”
Belle stood there shaking her head. So, it wasn’t the best excuse, but she hadn’t offered any other suggestions either.
“You two are getting married tomorrow,” Trudy shouted. She shoved the covers aside and shook the bed’s safety rails. “Let me out of this contraption. I told you people I’m fine to walk. It’s only a bruised hip.”
Belle rushed to her grandmother’s side before she took a dive over the edge. “Grammy, you have to stay in bed.” She looked to Harlan for help. “She thinks she’s in the hospital after that bad fall she had a few weeks before our wedding.”
“Why are you talking like I’m not here?” Trudy stopped fighting against her and sat up in bed. “I fell and I am in the hospital.” Trudy looked around the room. “I’ve had enough of this place. I want to go home.”
Harlan moved to stand beside Belle and attempted to cover Trudy’s bare legs with a sheet. The older woman had gone from zero to overdrive in a matter of seconds.
Belle reached for the call button and pressed it. “I know you do, Grammy. You will. You’ll go home soon.”
A nurse came in and helped ease Trudy back against the bed. She adjusted it into a reclining position and double-checked the safety rails. Another woman entered the room and stood in the corner, silently watching.
“Stop fussing over me.” She swatted both women away. “Go to the church and straighten out this wedding business. You tell them I booked the date first and you’re getting married there tomorrow.”
“Okay, Grammy. We will.” Belle removed her handbag from the back of the chair and slung it over her shoulders. “I love you. We’ll go now.” Belle ran from the room.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Trudy.” Harlan grabbed his hat and headed down the hall in search of Belle. When he reached the front desk, the woman who’d greeted him earlier pointed to a side door. He found Belle sitting in a white rocker on the covered veranda staring toward the blue-gray mountains of the Swan Range.
Her gaze met his as he approached. “I don’t know how to watch her slip away like this.” Her fingers trembled in her lap as his own ached to brush away the lone tear trailing down her cheek before she averted her gaze.
He crouched in front of her and held her hands between his own. He expected her to recoil from his touch as she had earlier, but instead she turned her hands upward and gripped his. The longing to tug her into his arms and soothe her pain took him by surprise. He hadn’t come within a street’s width of Belle in eight years, and in a matter of a few hours her skin had seared him multiple times like a branding iron on a steer’s rump.
“I’m here for you.” His thumbs slid across the soft warmth of her inner wrists. “Whether you want me to be or not.”
Harlan sympathized with her anguish. He’d lost his father four years ago and as terrible as that had been, he couldn’t fathom having to watch his last remaining relative slowly slip away. It was only a matter of time before Belle would be alone. In many respects, she already was. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—allow her to face that grief on her own.
“I appreciate it and thank you for coming here.” A dry sob stuck in her throat. “I guess it was a waste.”
“Excuse me.” The woman who had been in Trudy’s room a few minutes earlier approached them. “We haven’t met yet. I’m Samantha Frederick, the new director here. I hope I’m not overstepping, but I overheard your dilemma. It’s not much, and nowhere near as beautiful as your church would have been, but you’re welcome to get married here tomorrow. We don’t have the space for a big reception, but the garden is in full bloom and you wouldn’t have to do anything to it. Reverend Grady is here now and I just spoke with him. He said he’d be happy to perform the ceremony. It will allow your grandmother to be a part of your wedding.”
“Oh!” Belle laughed.
Harlan stood, unable to hold back a chuckle of his own at the irony of the situation. “That’s sweet of you.”
“But completely unnecessary,” Belle interjected.
“Well, wait a minute.” Harlan tapped Belle’s shoulder. “It’s not a bad idea. Let’s at least give it some thought.”
“Please do.” Samantha smiled. “My office is next to the front desk. Come