LITMIR.BIZ

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to Ridge. “Come on inside. I’ll fix us a snack.”

      “I had enough from that buffet to last me a week,” he replied, patting his stomach. “I’d love some more of that lemonade, though.”

      They headed up the back porch steps with the kids, and he stepped in front of her to pull open the screen door. Thanking him, she set Emily down in the kitchen.

      “Emily, where are your pretty new shoes?” she asked as Kyle snagged some chocolate chip cookies from the jar in the middle of the table. He thought he was being sneaky, but he’d been so good all day, she let it go.

      Innocent blue eyes looked up at her. “In the pond.”

      “Why?”

      “They were hurting my feet.”

      While she was counting to ten, Marianne noticed the red streak on her daughter’s dress. “What’s this?”

      Emily glanced down like the spill was news to her. “Punch.”

      She really didn’t have the energy for this, Marianne thought, swallowing a sigh that would only make matters worse. “Go take it off and bring it down for me. If we soak it, we might be able to get the stain out.”

      The suggestion earned her a world-class pout, and Emily wrapped her arms protectively around herself. “No. I like my dress.”

      “I do, too. I want to get it clean so you can wear it again.”

      Now those sweet eyes glared up at her defiantly. “No.”

      It had been a long day for all of them, and Marianne had finally reached the end of her patience. “Emily Rose—”

      “Hey, Emmy,” Kyle interrupted, “I’m goin’ swimming. Wanna come?”

      How he’d inhaled those cookies so fast was beyond Marianne. But his idea made Emily forget the argument, and she nodded enthusiastically.

      “Let’s go put our suits on,” he said. “I’ll race you!”

      Squealing, she took off with him trailing close behind her. Typical Kyle, he let her win the race upstairs. Two bedroom doors slammed shut, and a couple minutes later Marianne heard the front screen door squeak open. She looked out the window to see Emily tearing across the lawn toward the pond. Another set of footsteps pounded down the stairs, and Kyle reappeared in the kitchen, grinning as he handed over the stained dress.

      “Here you go, Mom. Good luck.”

      “Wait for me before you hit the water!”

      He waved without turning around, and she felt silly for saying it. As responsible as most adults, Kyle knew the rules, and he followed them to the letter. Her little man, Marianne thought proudly. Every day she thanked God for sending him to her.

      Emily was hollering his name, and he yelled for her to run out to the barn to spring his dog. They came back into view with Tucker barking excitedly as he ran circles around them and begged for attention from Kyle, then Emily, then Kyle again.

      “Whew,” Ridge commented as he dropped into a chair at the table. “Is it always like that around here?”

      Marianne smiled as she opened the fridge and poured them both some lemonade. “With the wedding, they’re a little more wound up than usual. Now that school’s out, things should calm down a little. I’m a teacher, so I’ll be off with them all summer. Lots of their friends end up here, which makes it fun.”

      He chuckled. “I’ll bet.”

      Of course, she wasn’t entirely certain she still had a job. Her teaching position was a one-year contract filling in for Kathy Walsh, who’d been on leave recovering from back surgery. Kathy would return in the fall, and Marianne was waiting anxiously to find out if Harland Elementary had a spot for her. If not, she had to find one somewhere else. With budget cuts and declining enrollment throughout the area, that wouldn’t be easy.

      Pushing the worry from her mind, she set their glasses on the table and plopped down across from Ridge. Slipping off her grass-stained pink satin shoes, she crossed her feet on another chair and took a long swallow of the first thing she’d actually tasted all day. “Mmm.”

      “Your kids are fantastic, Marianne,” Ridge said. “Emily could charm a statue, and Kyle’s something else.”

      Like the proud mother she was, she smiled at the praise. “Yeah, he is. I don’t know what Emily and I would do without him.”

      Emily’s dress was still sitting on the counter where Kyle had thrown it. Marianne had just gotten comfortable, but she knew if she didn’t get it soaking, the punch stain would never come out. Reluctantly, she stood and crossed the kitchen to get the stain remover from its handy place on the ledge over the sink. With two active kids, she used it frequently.

      “Just so you know,” Ridge continued, “Matt said I could keep Betsy here and use his bike if I need it.”

      Rubbing the remover into the delicate fabric, she chuckled at her big brother’s forgetfulness. “Of course he did.”

      “I know she’s not your usual houseguest. I can rent some hangar space at the airstrip if that works better.”

      “It’s not a problem. We have plenty of room.”

      While she rinsed the fabric in cold water, Marianne tried to keep her expression neutral. A grin slowly spread across Ridge’s tanned face, and she knew she hadn’t quite managed it.

      “You don’t like chaos, do you?”

      “Not really,” she admitted.

      “Funny how Matt never mentioned that.”

      “It must have slipped his mind.” Like telling her his best man would drive her completely bonkers the minute she met him.

      Chuckling again, Ridge shook his head. “Caty’s really gotten to him, hasn’t she?”

      The way he phrased it, it sounded romantic and sweet, even a little exciting. But Marianne couldn’t muster more than a faint hum of agreement as she applied more stain remover to Emily’s dress.

      “You’re not happy about them getting married?” Ridge asked, clearly—and understandably—perplexed.

      “I’m very happy.”

      “But?”

      Hoping to steer him away from the uncomfortable subject, she decided to keep it vague. Setting the dress in the sink, she turned to face him while she wiped her hands on a towel. “Things don’t always work out the way we want them to.”

      “That’s true. I’m divorced myself.”

      He said it matter-of-factly, as if it weren’t a big deal. Divorce was against everything she believed in, a broken promise to God. Five years later, she still hadn’t come to terms with her failed marriage.

      “You look upset,” Ridge sympathized.

      Completely forgetting her manners, she shot back, “And you don’t. Why is that?”

      He shrugged. “Sometimes things don’t work out. My wife wanted a different life, and I let her go find it. We’re both happier now,” he added, as if that made everything okay.

      Appalled by his casual attitude, Marianne glared at him. “The vows are ‘until death do us part,’ not ‘until things don’t work out.’”

      Ridge studied her for a few seconds, compassion etching his features. “I’m guessing your ex is the one who left. Could you have stopped him?”

      “Yes,” she retorted immediately, even though she knew it wasn’t true. She’d come home to find Peter’s wedding ring on the counter wrapped around a note that read I want a divorce—Peter.

      Ridge slowly shook his head. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

      His

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