Her Ideal Man (11 page)

Read Her Ideal Man Online

Authors: Ruth Wind

BOOK: Her Ideal Man
6.64Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
“And I,” she said calmly, “am old-fashioned, and I'm ashamed to be single and pregnant. My father, if he knew, would kill me.”
Tyler stared at her, his head roaring. Now what? “I think it should be done soon.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “Um...when is good for you?”
“It's not a business meeting, Anna.”
“That's what it feels like. And in a way it is. Let's at least be honest.” She squared her shoulders. “We don't know each other well enough to pretend it's anything but a business arrangement. At least now.”
He didn't feel businesslike. He felt hot and cold and confused, and because she'd asked for honesty, he said, “I didn't know I was going to ask you when I came in here. I don't know what the best thing is.” He looked at her helplessly. “I don't know anything about this stuff. Do you?”
For the first time, she smiled. “Yes. We need a blood test, and a judge, since no priest is going to marry us this fast. Not even Father Garcia.” She pulled out a piece of paper and scrawled “Wedding Details” over the top of it,. then began to make a list. “You have to tell your family, and figure out all of that.”
His family. Tyler's stomach fell to his feet. “I'll take care of my family. Do you want to call yours? Do we need to leave a little time for them to get here?”
“No!” Her answer was almost insultingly vehement. “I'm sorry to sound like that, but you just don't know the hassles they would bring.” She rubbed her forehead. “I'll tell them when it's over and done with. They'll scream that it's not Catholic, and that you aren't Italian, and that their baby is thousands of miles away.” She shook her head. “Trust me. This is easier.”
“Will it bother you, not having a Catholic wedding?”
Anna fingered the end of her pencil without looking at him. “A little, I guess. I was raised to imagine that big white wedding, the mass and the big party and all of that.” She lifted a shoulder. “But we really don't have time to wait. It would take six months.”
“Oh.” He hurt a little for her, thinking of what she would be giving up. “Later, then, we'll have a Catholic ceremony.” He offered a small grin. “With a big white wedding dress, even, if you want.”
She smiled. “It's okay.” She frowned in sudden alarm. “It does matter to me, Tyler, that the baby is baptized, and I want to take him to church.”
“I would never interfere with that.” The thought of her taking the baby to church made him feel right about things, somehow, and made him realized he'd neglected Curtis's s religious education entirely. Quietly, he said, “Curtis will want to go, too, I'm sure.”
“How is he going to feel about this, Tyler? Have you thought of that?”
He met her gaze, and his throat felt suddenly tight. “Curtis found out you were having a baby,” he said quietly, “and he said, ‘I wish Miss Anna was my mommy.' That's a direct quote.”
Tears shone in Anna's eyes. “Oh,” she said, putting her hand over her mouth. “I think that's the killer, Tyler. I'm sony.”
“What do you mean?”
She stood up, and moved to the windowsill and plucked a huge wad of tissue from a box, her face turned away. “I'm really emotional, and this has been a shock, and unless you want me blubbering all over you, you'd better go.”
Tyler hesitated. Maybe she would like it if he held her for a minute. But maybe she wanted to just be alone for a while. He stood up awkwardly. “Can I call you this afternoon?”
She nodded, her face still turned away. “Yes.”
“Maybe we can get things together for this weekend.”
“Okay.”
“I'll just go, then.” He still felt torn; watching her try to pull herself together. “Find out about blood tests, tell everybody.”
A tiny sound escaped her, and Tyler stared a moment longer, wishing he knew how to reach out. “Anna. Are you okay? Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes, Tyler.” She lifted her head, although she kept her face toward the window. “I'm very sure. I just want you to go now, okay? Call me this afternoon.”
Awkwardly, he reached out and patted her shoulder. “Okay,” he said, and fled.
 
As soon as he left, Anna let herself collapse in a heap of pillows and really cry. They were tears of relief and sorrow and anxiety, tears of confusion-and even tears of happiness.
Whatever she expected when she looked up to see Tyler standing in her doorway, it had not been a proposal of marriage. And if it had come from any other man in the world, she would have refused without a second thought.
But she and Tyler were alike in one important way—they both had very old-fashioned values. In the old traditions, when a baby was made, the parents married in order to give it a home. And although it sometimes did not work as well as one would hope, sometimes it worked just fine. Marriages did not have to be founded on wild, passionate love. Mutual respect and similar values sometimes served as a much more stable base.
She had agreed to his proposal instinctively, but now that her emotional storm had passed, she knew it was the right thing to do. Her panic the past few days had risen to almost terrifying levels, and her options had seemed more and more limited. His offer was a lifeline.
And she had genuine faith it would be all right. Oh, not that they would ever fall madly in love, or that they would ever have the kind of marriage she had once dreamed of—a marriage like that of her parents, for example—but she knew she could trust Tyler Forrest to take care of her and the baby, that he was as solid and steady a man as God had ever made. He would also love the child they had made together.
The unexpected sweetness of being able to be a mother to Curtis made up for a lot. His need of a mother had plucked at her from the beginning, and to be able to grant his most passionate wish was worth almost anything.
Drying her eyes, Anna wondered why she still felt so sad. In a way, all her problems were solved. She would be able to remain in Colorado. She would not shame her family by returning to New York as an unwed mother. She would have a husband who was as reliable as the rising of the sun.
A man who did not love her. Who would never love her.
That was the only fly in the ointment, but it was a big, hairy horsefly. She was more than half in love with him now. It was hard to imagine how she would be able to keep herself aloof and apart from that emotion if she lived with him day in and day out. Or, more to the point, night in and night out.
A ripple of longing pulsed down her spine, and she shuddered.
Could she bear to marry a man she loved a little, and would no doubt love a lot someday, knowing he would never recover from the loss of his first wife? She was sensible enough to realize that a lot of what they were about to do—get married, go through a pregnancy and have a baby—would rouse painful ghosts for Tyler. Ghosts that might make him push her away, might make it impossible for him to be anything more than a figurehead of a husband.
If it came to that, could she bear it?
Anna honestly didn't know. The one comfort was that they would marry by civil ceremony. It might be her only way out, if it came to that. If she wed him in the church, it would have been impossible to break the vows.
With a sigh, she stood up and went back to her list. If they were going to marry this weekend, there was a lot that needed to be done. She could be practical when she had to be.
Chapter 11
T
hey met to have blood tests and do the paperwork at the courthouse, and rather awkwardly got it all done. The woman behind the counter beamed at them, and chattered, and Anna felt extremely uncomfortable. When they were outside on the steps, her panic rose in her chest again, and she stopped dead. “Tyler, this is weird. I mean, it feels so strange. I don't know how to act or anything.”
He said nothing for a minute. It was a cool, overcast day. By the look of the clouds, they would have snow by evening, and Anna shivered against the wind. She buried her chin in the collar of her coat, feeling as if nothing were real, that somehow she had stumbled into someone else's life.
Anna's grandmother had been a great believer in fate. Maybe Anna's stubborn insistence on coming to Colorado had somehow twisted her fate so that she really was living someone else's life. Maybe she was supposed to be back in Queens with some guy who—
Tyler took her hand. “Do you trust me, Anna?”
She frowned. “I don't know what you mean.”
“Just what I said.” His thumb moved over her knuckles, and somehow the contact was reassuring, soothing. “Do you trust me to do what I say I will?”
“Yes,” she said simply.
“Good.” His pale gray eyes never twinkled, but there was a softness in them now that Anna had not seen before. He lifted her hand to his lips and planted a chivalrous kiss on her wrist. “This is not the way weddings usually happen, but I want you to know that I will be a faithful, honorable husband to you. I'll do what I can to make you happy.”
A lump rose in her throat. “I know.”
“What I want you to do is this—go home and try to figure out how few of your things you can live with.” His smile was rueful. “You'll have to either keep the apartment for a while or find storage for most of it until we have a chance to add a couple of rooms on to the cabin.”
“But there's so much to be done!”
“Let me take care of everything else, okay? Let me do this.”
Looking up into his beautiful face, with his hand clasped around hers so gently, Anna felt a swell of almost painful longing rise through her chest. “Okay,” she said. “But if you need me, call me.”
“I will.” Sweetly, he touched her face. “I will see you again Saturday morning, then. Ten o'clock. My mother is going to come get you for the wedding, and we'll go to her house afterward.”
She clutched his hand tightly. “Oh, Tyler, are you sure this is what you want to do?”
He sobered. “Yes.”
Anna watched him walk away, so straight and noble, a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. What was she doing? It seemed odd that they did not kiss.
Or maybe it wasn't odd. They seemed to be doing things backward—sex, then marriage, then maybe someday love. Maybe.
Feeling panic welling, she took a long, slow, deep breath. The facts were still the facts. She could not face her family as an unwed mother, and she genuinely liked Tyler Forrest. If that was all it was, heaven knew she could do worse for a husband.
At any rate, her problems were solved for the moment, and she would just try not to borrow any trouble.
 
Tyler had not enjoyed himself so much in years as he did over the next three days. He told no one of his plans except Curtis, who gleefully accompanied him on all his errands. They drove to Denver on Thursday and spent the whole day shopping and planning, taking frequent breaks for snacks. Curtis actually ended up being an imaginative helper, suggesting a couple of things Tyler would never have thought of.
Anna was right, he thought, ruffling his son's hair after a particularly terrific addition. Curtis had the archetypes down pat.
Most of the shopping was for the wedding and the reception itself, but Tyler also went to a kitchen shop and a bath shop and a hardware store to find things he hoped might make Anna's transition to mountain living more comfortable. He worried about how she'd feel living at the cabin, with its electrical and plumbing limitations. If she got sick of it, she could always go down the mountain to Louise's house when she needed to. Hell, he'd done it himself.
For the first time in his life, he also actually enjoyed the feeling of spending money. Like his brothers, he'd inherited a staggering sum of money at his father's death, and he'd touched none of it. He didn't need to. His life-style was simple enough that it didn't require much cash outlay, and he earned a good living with the specialized carpentry he did.
In fact, as he pulled out cash for yet another purchase, he found himself grinning. Why hadn't he done this before?
The answer rippled through him. Kara. She had been almost religious about embracing an antimateriatistic life-style, a rebellion against her parents. He'd understood and respected her need for it, trusting that she'd eventually outgrow the need to eschew all material comforts. And he did mean all. She'd boiled coffee on the stove, and worn no makeup, and made shampoo from yucca root. They'd lived together most of his adult life, and Tyler had just fallen into the habit of doing without.
A twinge of guilt touched him. He hadn't even thought of Kara since this all started.
As if waiting in the wings for just such a moment, the demons howled out of the dark corners of his mind, making a mockery of his actions today. And a rush of searing guilt burned into his belly. The dark stain spread like malevolent weeds through his chest, into his throat—
“Oh, Daddy!” Curtis whispered, tugging his hand. “Look!”
He pointed to a scarf draped over a mannequin's dark head, a gossamer scarf with an embroidered gold edge, and tiny gold moons and stars scattered over it.
Curtis's happiness acted as a retardant on Tyler's spreading guilt. There were a living child and a living woman and another baby on the way to think about. His demons could wait. “You're right, kiddo,” he said, and turned to the clerk. “Can we get that scarf, too?”
“Certainly, sir.” She smiled flirtatiously. “She must be a very special woman.”
Curtis answered. “Oh, she is. She's going to be my mommy.” He looked at his dad for confirmation. “Isn't she?”
Tyler felt an unexpected rush of emotion. Curtis had no conflicts whatsoever about all of it, and the clear, fullthroated joy of the child was worth a lot. “She sure is.”
The clerk smiled. “Congratulations.”
In the end, Tyler had to recruit his mother's help. But things were finally arranged, and he went home to clean the cabin and make the final arrangements for the wedding night.
Then he had to sit down and wait.
 
 
Friday night, Anna could not sleep. She was busy enough trying to make arrangements for her things that she didn't have time to worry for most of the week, but by Friday night there was nothing left to do.
She could not sleep. Three times she picked up the phone to call someone in her family, to at least tell
someone
what was about to happen, and three times she put her hand back in the pocket of her robe. She ached to share the news, to ask advice, to just hear a familiar voice in this strange wilderness her life had become. She was scared to death that she was making the most enormous mistake of her life.
It was too much, too fast. Three months ago, she'd been exactly where she wanted to be, finally curator of her own museum, finally a resident of Colorado, finally free of the vinelike clutches of her family.
Now all she wanted to do was run to them for protection, for validation or sympathy or maybe words of wisdom. But the very act of running so far from them prevented her from doing it. She didn't want them to know how miserably she had failed in her quest for independence. She didn't want them to cluck among themselves and talk about how much trouble she'd gotten herself in without all of them to intervene and keep her safe.
Anna the romantic, they'd say. See what happens?
Pacing her apartment—for the last time, she realized— she scowled. They thought her frivolous and harebrained because she loved history and books and fairy tales. They thought she couldn't handle things on her own.
In a few months, when she could tell a little more clearly how things would go between her and Tyler, she would break the news of the baby and the husband.
In the meantime, she would just have to pray no one actually did decide to visit. What a mess that would be!
With a start, she noticed that the clock read 2:01. She had to get at least a little sleep—she didn't want to look like a vampire bride. Warm milk was an old standby. Maybe it would work. She padded into the kitchen and put the milk on the stove to heat. Standing there alone, she realized what part of her trouble was.
She shouldn't be alone the night before her wedding. Her sisters and cousins should be here, and all of them should still be awake, talking and eating too much, and sharing tales of other weddings, other marriages. Her mother should be here tomorrow, clucking over her hair and worrying about the guest list and looking splendid in the peacock-blue silk mother-of-the-bride dress upon which she had spent a small fortune, justifying it because she had so many daughters. The thought brought a teary smile.
Most of all, Anna wished for her grandma Maria, the one with whom she had sat for endless hours, listening to her stories. Of all the people in the world, Grandma Maria would understand the things Anna felt tonight—scared and excited and breathless with wondering what tomorrow would bring, if her husband would ever be more than a good provider and a good father. If he would ever learn to love his wife.
Stirring the milk, Anna wished she could see the future, just as her grandmother must have wished sixty years before. She had met her husband only once, for she'd come all the way from Sicily to be his wife, the match arranged by the families when such things were still popular. In Anna's office was a sepia photograph of Maria and her dashingly handsome husband, Salvatore. They both looked frightened and grim in the pictures, two very young strangers who had no idea what the night would bring. If they would even like each other. If they would find the same things funny, or have compatible spirits in any way.
But Anna remembered the way things had been between her grandparents. To his last day on earth, Salvatore had brought his wife a newer—usually snipped from his own garden—every single day.
And when he passed away, Maria had missed him desperately. She wanted to talk about him all the time, tell stories of him, somehow mark the time he'd been on earth and the contribution he'd made to the world. Anna had listened for many hours on many cold afternoons. The two young strangers had not only come to know each other, they'd found a rare bliss.
The world was different now, but Anna and Tyler were as old-fashioned in their way as Maria and Salvatore had been. He would be faithful, which mattered desperately to Anna. He would provide for them. And Anna could be a mother to a boy who wanted a mother more than anything in the world.
With a sense of regret, she realized she should have let her family know she was going to get married. The die was cast now, however, and she would just wait. Maybe it would be impossible to make this work. Maybe she would want more than Tyler could give. Maybe it would be impossible to compete with Kara's ghost.
But maybe, just maybe, it would work out as well as her grandmother's marriage, and if Tyler would agree to take classes with her, they could have another ceremony, a Catholic church wedding, after the baby was born. And all her family could come then to celebrate with her.
Feeling more optimistic, Anna drank her warm milk and went to bed. And at last she slept, to dream of her grandfather dancing with her grandmother at a wedding.
It was the doorbell that awakened her. Anna, confused after the late night, couldn't quite get her bearings at first. Sun streamed in the windows, bright and buttery, and she groggily looked at the clock. Eight o'clock.
The doorbell rang again, insistently.
She suddenly remembered. She was getting married in two hours! And she'd overslept, and that was probably Louise right now. “Just a minute!” she called, and tossed through the covers to find her robe.
The sound of the doorbell ringing a third time sent her heart skittering into a panic. What if it was Tyler, come to tell her he'd changed his mind? With trembling hands, she opened the door to a young man in a delivery uniform. “Good morning,” he said.
Anna looked at him blankly for a moment, then thought it must be something from Louise, and thanked him. Taking the package into her sunny, bare living room, she untied the big, plain box and found three more packages inside. On top was a small, narrow box with a label that said Open last.
It wasn't Louise's handwriting. Anna knew that from the museum. She put it aside as per instruction, and reached for the second, a rather large one marked #1. It was a simple white box, quite heavy. Anna put it on the table and lifted the lid.

Other books

The Art Whisperer (An Alix London Mystery) by Charlotte Elkins, Aaron Elkins
Love, Remember Me by Bertrice Small
Zafiro by Kerstin Gier
After the Rains by Deborah Raney
Murder by Reflection by H. F. Heard
On the Hook by Cindy Davis
A Royal Craving by Elaine White
05 Whale Adventure by Willard Price