need a husband right now. A husband with a fat wallet, a husband you can count on.”
“Well, okay. You may be right, but—”
“Let me put it this way.” He leaned closer. They’d been talking quietly, but right then, he lowered his voice even more, as if they were a pair of conspirators, as if he were about to suggest the most dangerous conspiracy of all. “You could marry me now. We could deal with the Atwoods together, present a united front. And eventually, once the Atwoods are no longer a threat to you and Sam, if you feel you’ve got to have more than I can give you, well then, we’ll end it.”
She hated to say the ugly word, but it did require saying. “Divorce, you mean?”
He nodded.
She found herself leaning toward him as he leaned toward her. “So. We could marry…” She was whispering, too, keeping her voice way down low so that only he could hear, though it was nearing two in the morning and they were alone in her mother’s dark backyard. “We could marry and live together and be just what we are—friends, and that’s all. But we’d also stay true, to each other. Respect our vows. And then, if the time comes when one of us wants more than the other can give, we would get ourselves a divorce.”
He nodded again. “That’s exactly right.”
She thought of the family. “What would we tell everyone? Would we try to make them think that all of a sudden the two of us discovered we were in love?”
“However you want to handle it. Maybe calling it love would be the best way to go. You’ve got some pretty big talkers in your family.”
He had a point there. She said, “Aunt LeeAnne comes immediately to mind.”
“That she does. And it’s possible, if we let it be known that this marriage is really for Sam’s sake, the Atwoods might get hold of that information. They could twist it to make it look as if there’s no real commitment between us, as if it’s only a marriage on paper, entered into so that you wouldn’t lose Sam to them.”
“Well. And that would be the truth, more or less, wouldn’t it?”
His gaze did not waver. “There is, always has been and always will be, commitment between us.”
Oh, he was so right. They did share a very deep commitment. She swallowed, gave a nod.
He said, “Let me put it this way. If you think the Atwoods have a right to that particular truth, then we probably don’t need to be having this conversation.”
She took his meaning. “Because we might as well not be married at all, if Robert Atwood is going to be able to call our marriage a sham. That’s what you’re saying, right?”
He nodded.
“Okay.” She flopped back against the cushion and stared up through the trees at the starry night sky. “So we’d need to make everyone think it’s a real marriage, in every way. We’d need to—”
He chuckled again. “Jo. Settle down.”
“Well, I want to get this all straight in my mind. I want to know exactly how we would manage everything.”
“And I’m trying to tell you that we don’t need to ‘make’ them think anything. We’ll just say we love each other and we’ve decided to get married. I don’t see why we have to go into any big explanations about what kind of love it is.”
Easy for him to say. She sat up a little straighter. “Maybe you won’t. You’re the man. The women in my family will not be askin’ you why, all of a sudden, you’re getting hitched to your best friend.”
“You can handle them.”
“How?”
“Let them ask. Answer with care.”
She knew he had the right idea. But she did hate evading and telling lies. If she and Dekker did this, she would have to lie at least a little and evade a whole lot.
She told him, “The family will have to know that the Atwoods are after Sam. Eventually, when we get to court, I don’t see any way we could hide it. And then there’s the babysitting issue. I’m going to have to tell my mama and my sisters why they suddenly can’t watch my child.”
“Our getting married will make that easier.”
“How?”
“We’ll tell them about the money I’ve got now, money that means you can start paying for day care, so you won’t have to take advantage of them so much anymore.”
For the first time since they’d started this particular discussion, Joleen felt a smile curving her lips. “Hey. When you say it that way, it doesn’t sound bad at all.”
“And it’s the truth, too.”
“Just not the whole truth.”
“Truth enough.”
Was it? Well, all right. Maybe it was.
He picked up his empty water glass. “I think I wouldn’t mind a beer, after all.”
“Help yourself.” She gestured toward the coolers still lined up by the garden shed.
He rose from the chaise and went to get himself a cold one. Joleen let her head drop back to the cushion again.
Strange. The more Dekker had talked, the more he had laid out all the reasons they ought to get married, the more his crazy idea seemed like the best way to handle her problem.
He was right about a lot of things.
Like when he said that neither of them was in the market for a grand passion right now—and that maybe neither of them would ever be. In that case the marriage could turn out to be just right for both of them, and in a forever way, too.
But however long it lasted, she felt certain they could make a go of it, make it work. Make a good marriage. Maybe there wouldn’t be passion or even sex. But she had lived without sex and passion for a good part of her life. Going without those things hadn’t killed her yet. And Dekker had just told her—and really seemed to mean it—that he could do without them, too.
Oh, and they did have so much that they shared. Yes, sometimes he was closemouthed, even with her. But she never kept secrets from him. She loved nothing so much as talking things over with him. And the thought of having him at her side, as her husband, when she faced the Atwoods, created the sweetest, most wonderful feeling of relief in her troubled heart.
He came back to her, stretched his big body out in the chaise next to hers again. She heard the popping sound as he opened his beer. She turned her head to him as he drank and watched him with fondness, waiting for him to look at her.
When he did meet her eyes, she spoke softly. “Thank you. For bein’ my true friend.”
He set the can on the low table between them. “Are you going to marry me?”
“Yes, Dekker. I am.”
Chapter 6
They broke the news to the family the next day, at dinner. Uncle Stan and his wife, Aunt Catherine, were there. So were Bud and Burly. And Aunt LeeAnne and Uncle Foley. They’d all come by in the afternoon to help with the after-wedding cleanup.
Uncle Hubert was there, too. He had never left. He hadn’t been much use as a worker, since he was nursing a sick hangover from his excesses the day before, but he came to the table when Camilla called him, so he heard the announcement right along with everyone else.
Niki cried. And so did Aunt LeeAnne.
“Oh, what did I tell you, hon?” Aunt LeeAnne sobbed. “I said you’d be next and wasn’t I right?”
Joleen handed her aunt a tissue, gave her a hug, and agreed that yes, she had been right.
Uncle