Renee Ryan

Finally a Bride


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sharpened in her throat, and something else, something equally awful, something that felt like wistfulness.

      Your chance to be together has passed. Why couldn’t she remember that important fact?

      Frustrated with herself, with him—with them both—she treated him to a fierce scowl. He dropped his hand.

      Molly resumed her ascent.

      This time, Garrett joined her step for step. From beneath her lashes, she took in every angle of his once-beloved face. He’d changed. Gone was the lean, almost lanky physique, replaced by broad shoulders, long legs, corded muscles and sun-bronzed skin. The latter was proof he spent time outdoors, working on the family ranch when he made the trip home.

      “Through with your inspection?” he asked in an amused tone.

      She suppressed a sigh. “Must you be such a...a...man?”

      “I’m not sure how to answer that.”

      “It was a rhetorical question.”

      “Naturally.” A grin spread across his lips, teasing, almost flirtatious.

      Telling herself the flutter in her stomach was due to physical exertion, she completed the rest of the climb. The moment her foot hit the third-floor landing, she whirled to face him again.

      With him two stairs below, they stood nose to nose, neither moving, neither breathing. One shift on her part, one step on his and their lips would touch. Bad, bad idea.

      She lowered her gaze.

      He pressed his fingertip beneath her chin and applied gentle pressure until she looked him in the eye once more. “What’s wrong?”

      Did he really have to ask?

      “Molly.” He spoke her name on a whisper, his gaze full of remorse. “I’m sorry I accused you of encouraging Fanny to break her engagement.”

      “Are you?”

      “Beyond words.” He leaned over her, all six feet two inches of him, and rested his hand on her shoulder. “But I’m thankful we’re together now.”

      Was he? “Why?”

      “With the two of us working in tandem we’ll uncover what’s really behind Fanny’s decision to break up with Reese.”

      He spoke with such confidence, as if they were a single unit, a team, stronger together than apart. She thought of a favorite Bible verse from Ecclesiastes, the one she’d once dreamed would be recited at their wedding. Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour.

      It was hard not to sigh, but Molly had a lot of practice controlling her emotions around Garrett. “I’m glad, too.”

      She spoke the simple truth.

      He pulled his hand away from her shoulder. As before, they turned toward the door as a, well, a single unit. Two are better than one.

      She gave in to that sigh, after all.

      Rolling his shoulders, Garrett lifted his hand to knock.

      The door flew open before he made contact.

      “At last, you’ve come.” Callie, the older of the two sisters by a year, spoke directly to Molly. She hadn’t noticed Garrett yet. Or perhaps she’d chosen to ignore him for now.

      Either way, Molly did her best to smile at her friend.

      In return, Callie gave her a shaky lift of her lips. The gesture didn’t quite reach her eyes. Upon closer scrutiny, Molly noted her friend looked uncharacteristically ruffled. Her pretty, oval face was flushed. Her green eyes, usually so bright, were dimmed with worry, and her hair was in disarray, with several blond locks fluttering around her ears.

      “Is Fanny still in her room?” Molly tried to hide her concern behind a bland tone.

      Callie nodded her head in resignation.

      “Well, then, let’s see if we can coax her out of there.”

      “I’m not sure I’ll be of much help.” Something uncomfortable shifted in Callie’s eyes. “She’s not feeling especially charitable toward me at the moment.”

      “Not to worry, Cal. When Molly said we—” Garrett stepped forward, drawing his sister’s attention “—she meant her and me.”

      “Oh. Right. Garrett...you’re back.” Callie’s shoulders relaxed, then stiffened again. “Wait. Now wait just a minute. You and Molly are here...” Her gaze darted between them. “Together?”

      Her reaction came as no surprise. Still, Molly shared a look with Garrett. He flattened his lips in a grim line. She did the same. They drew a collective breath.

      “Oh, honestly, Callie.” She choked out what she hoped was a mild, casual laugh. “Garrett and I have done nothing out of the ordinary by arriving here together.”

      “I beg to differ.” Eyes wide, Callie divided a look between them. “It’s completely out of the ordinary for you two to be together, under any circumstances.”

      Well, yes, that was true. But still...

      Molly flicked a glance at Garrett. Quiet, calm, expression impassive, he appeared perfectly willing to let her carry the conversation.

      So be it. “For Fanny’s sake, Garrett and I have agreed to join forces—this once.”

      Molly emphasized the last two words, reminding herself she had a point to make. A very large point. It wouldn’t do for Callie, or Garrett, or even Molly herself, to assume matters between them were resolved simply because they shared a common purpose here today.

      Too much stood between them—spoken and unspoken—hovering under the tense surface that she was taking great pains to ignore.

      As was Garrett.

      Molly glanced at him again, arched an eyebrow, waited.

      He shot her a half smile then, finally, addressed his sister directly. “The point isn’t that Molly and I have arrived together, but that we have come to speak to Fanny. Not you.”

      Callie scowled at her brother, opened her mouth to speak then clamped her lips shut and sighed. “Then you better come with me.”

      She entered the suite. Garrett and Molly followed her inside.

      Narrow and cramped, the tiny foyer barely had enough space for all three of them, especially with Garrett’s larger-than-life aura stealing all the available air.

      Thankfully, Callie continued into the front parlor without breaking stride. Molly joined her, pleased to discover the room was still as warm and cozy as she remembered, welcoming even, much like the women who called this tiny space home.

      The large, overstuffed furniture and flowered wallpaper offered a pleasant contrast to the stark, whitewashed beams in the sloped ceiling. Off to the left was Callie’s bedroom. The room next to it belonged to Fanny.

      Pushing past both women, Garrett strode to Fanny’s closed door. He banged with two hard raps.

      No response.

      “Fanny, open up.” He knocked again. “It’s Garrett.”

      Still no response.

      Frowning, he stared straight ahead with a narrowed gaze, as if by sheer force of will he could make Fanny obey his command.

      “I brought Molly with me.” Male frustration rolled off him in waves, but his tone remained conversational. “She’s eager to speak with you.”

      More silence.

      “Fanny.”

      “Go away, Garrett.” The muffled reply came from just behind the door, as if Fanny had her forehead pressed to the wood.

      He fisted his hand again, drew in several breaths then uncurled his fingers. Muttering