Marion Ekholm

An Act of Love


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pointed down the street. “There’s a great pawnshop a block from here with a large selection. I know the owner, and I’m sure he’ll give us a deal.”

      Why did he include himself in everything as though they really had a relationship? Annoyed, Marley said, “I’m buying the ring, Brant. This engagement is fake, remember?”

      “Precisely, love.” Again with that British accent. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

      Once inside the store, Brant shook hands with a man who was clearly the owner. “Gee,” the guy said, “I haven’t seen you since two seconds ago when you sailed down the street on that bus.” Amused at his own joke, he turned to Marley and Dede. “Going to introduce us?”

      Brant placed an arm around each of them. “Gus, this is Dede and my fiancée, Marley.”

      Marley shuddered. How can he do that, tell someone he obviously knows well that we’re engaged?

      “We’re looking for rings. Have you got anything suitable?”

      “Inexpensive,” Marley interjected.

      “Isn’t she wonderful?” Brant removed his arm from Dede but continued to hold Marley. “Won’t let me spend a dime on her.”

      “Over here.”

      Marley managed to slip from Brant’s grasp as they followed Gus to a display case with jewelry. Brant leaned over and pointed to an elaborate ring. “What about that one?”

      “Excellent taste.” Gus reached under the glass, took out the ring and placed it in Brant’s hand.

      Brant eyed the tiny tag that dangled from the ring and his eyebrows went up before he reached for Marley’s hand. “Try it on for size, love.”

      Marley grabbed the ring and put it on herself. It fit. And it was gorgeous. Something any potential bride would want. White gold, with a large diamond surrounded by several smaller ones. And a price of over five thousand dollars! Marley managed to pull it off and place it on the counter before it scalded her finger. “I want a ring as fake as our engagement.”

      With a sigh, Brant turned to Dede. “You talk to her. I can’t deal with this constant change of heart. The engagement’s on—the engagement’s off.” He motioned to Gus. “I’ll let her decide what she wants. You have any new instruments to show me?”

      Gus directed another salesclerk over to help Marley while he and Brant headed to where various musical instruments hung on the wall.

      In a rush, Marley settled for a similar ring costing less than fifty dollars and was out of the store before Brant had a chance to involve himself again. Left with barely enough time to catch her plane, she shouted a thank-you to Dede and raced home.

      Quickly, Marley slipped into sandals that would be easy to take off at airport security. Thank goodness she’d had the foresight to pack the night before.

      How was she going to manage transporting everything? She left the guitar and pushed the two pieces of luggage into the hall, planning to return for it once she parked her gear at the front entrance. She was locking her door when Brant stepped off the elevator.

      “Let me help you.”

      “I can handle it,” she said as he reached for one of her suitcases.

      “Darlin’.” He took off his battered cowboy hat and placed it against his chest. “I know you can, but my ancestors would rise from their graves if I permitted my fiancée to do any manual labor.”

      While putting his hat back on, he placed his hand over hers, trapping her fingers around the handle. “I’m catching a plane, Brant. Let go of my hand.”

      “Just protecting that gorgeous ring I gave you. So, may I help you with your luggage?”

      Again Brant interfered with her thought process, jumbling her concentration. She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. Realizing he wasn’t about to let her alone, she yanked her hand free and said, “Take it.”

      He grabbed her two bags and rolled them to the elevator, leaving her with a small carry-on and an extra-large purse. Afraid he might run off with her belongings, she decided to stay glued to him every step of the way.

      “Why so much luggage? Dede said you were going for a week. I didn’t have this much when I spent three months in Australia.” Probably because he wore the same rags Marley saw him in every day.

      The doors opened and he greeted a man leaving the elevator and finagled the luggage inside. “You got a dead body in here? This weighs a ton. Want me to come to the airport? I could fly out with you to...Where we going?”

      Totally frustrated, Marley pressed her hand against her aching forehead. At some point, all the tension had turned into a headache. She said authoritatively, “I am flying—alone—to Pennsylvania.”

      Brant leaned against the wall, studying her. “I see pain in those beautiful brown eyes. Headache?”

      She nodded but didn’t go into detail.

      When the elevator stopped on the fifth floor, he moved to give the woman entering some space. “You’re breaking my heart. You know that, right? How can I exist a whole week by myself?” He smiled at the newcomer and waved offhandedly at Marley. “We’re newly engaged, and she’s taking off without me. After I gave her that gorgeous ring.”

      Marley compressed her lips and tried her best to ignore Brant. She would not talk to him. She would not acknowledge his remarks. The elevator stopped at the fourth floor and the woman got out. The doors were closing when he raised his voice and said, “She’ll probably hock it as soon as she gets to Transylvania.”

      Marley finally shook her head and turned to stare at him directly. “You’re a real nutcase,” she said before the door opened on the first floor.

      “So when are we going on a date? Engaged for twelve hours, and we haven’t even shared chopsticks.” The door started to close, and Brant pushed one of the suitcases forward to stop it. He rolled the other bag into the lobby, pushed both out the front door and down the ramp into the parking area.

      “Where are you going with those?” Was he about to make off with her luggage? Marley gripped her purse and carry-on even tighter as she started after him. “I have a taxi coming.”

      “I’ll drive you. I’ve got my truck parked right here.”

      “Stop.” She grabbed one of his arms, accidentally whacking his chest with her purse. “I mean it, Brant.” She backed away to put some distance between them. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you.”

      He leaned against the white truck, hooked one scuffed boot over the other and folded his arms across his chest. “May I have a serious word with you?”

      “Are you capable of being serious?”

      He stared her down. If she missed her plane...

      “What do you want to say?”

      “I’m between gigs right now.” He paused. “No work for maybe a couple of weeks.”

      Defeated, she let out a sigh. Given the panhandler outfits he wore, he had to be broke. Probably hadn’t had work since they’d first met and wouldn’t get more till that convention, which was still weeks away. She wasn’t about to start lending him money. But...if he was desperate. “How much do you need? I don’t have a lot with me but...”

      Brant frowned, lines puckering his forehead. “I don’t need money. Let me finish what I have to say, okay? I have work coming up later this month, and I’d like to get away from my picture posted on every free space in Phoenix while I wait for the assignment.” He looked away. “And I have personal reasons to disappear for a while.”

      He put his index finger to his lips when she tried to interject a comment.

      After another pause he said, “You need a fiancé,