Ready-Made Bride

Andy is the one suffering while the three of you circle each other like wary cats.”

The light filtering from the barn silhouetted his frame, making him appear like a menacing giant in front of her. “Andy is the only reason the Lindens have anything to do with me.”

Why? She wanted ask, but knew by the heat in his gaze her question would go unanswered. “Other than you, Harold and Patricia are the only family Andy has. Surely the three of you could try a little harder to get along.”

“Andy has an aunt,” he said defensively.

She remembered Andy mentioning Aunt Diane during one of their phone conversations. She lived in Idaho with her husband. He’d told her that Grandma and Grandpa Fielding had died before he’d been born. She wondered about Kane’s relationship with his sister but knew now wasn’t the time to pursue her curiosity.

“That’s not the same,” she argued. “The Lindens are, and always will be, an active, direct part of Andy’s life since you live in the same town. Are you going to spend the rest of your lives barely being civil to one another?”

He didn’t answer her, just jammed his hands on his hips and glared.

“It’s not fair to Andrew,” she said on a softer note. “The strain between you and the Lindens is obvious and has got to affect Andrew on some level.”

Harsh laughter escaped him. “You must have a nice, cozy family.”

His taunt cut right to her heart. He couldn’t know how lonely and painful her childhood had been, she told herself, tucking her arms over her stomach. “Quite the opposite, Kane,” she said quietly. “From the age of eight, when both my parents were killed in a car accident, I grew up in more foster homes than I can remember. I never had a family after that.”

Sympathy flickered in his gaze, and he released a tight breath that sounded close to a curse. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. That’s why I see the importance of having one. Surely whatever has come between you and the Lindens can be reconciled.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Reconciliation isn’t in the Lindens’s vocabulary.”

How about his? “Couldn’t you at least try-”

“No.” The one word boomed like thunder in the barn. He leaned close, the sudden dangerous glint in his eyes masking the flash of raw, vulnerable pain she’d seen seconds before. “You know nothing about it, Megan,” he said, his voice low with warning. “So leave it alone.” He turned and walked away.

If she was smart, she’d follow his advice. Unfortunately, the higher emotional stakes she’d invested in father and son in the year and a half she’d been corresponding with Andy overruled her common sense. As outrageous and foolish as it seemed, she was falling in love with Kane Fielding.

Taking a deep breath of clean, fresh air, Megan plucked another weed from the planter bordering the house, content with a chore most of the women she knew would blanch at. After her divorce, the only friend who’d remained a compassionate listener and adviser was her roommate, Judi Melvin. They’d met years before she’d married Phillip, and their friendship had stayed constant throughout her divorce, when she’d needed a listening ear the most.

Megan was used to being alone, preferred it most of the time. But the past few days with Andrew made her empty life seem that much lonelier. She didn’t relish returning to a small apartment in the hubbub of Seattle, her day-to-day existence broken by a friendly chat with her editor or an occasional visit from a friend. She especially didn’t want to revert to weekly letters from Andy and infrequent phone calls, when she’d lived the pure heaven of seeing and talking to him daily.

Sighing heavily, she sank her fingers into the soft soil, sifting out the patches of bright green clover vying for space with the weeds. Tomorrow, after Kane left for work and Andy went to school, she was going to the hardware store to buy some flowers and plant them. Give the house a more cheerful appearance. That would keep her busy until they returned home and she could share Andy’s day with him.

She pushed a strand of hair from her cheek with the back of her hand and smiled, remembering her time at school with Andy that morning. He’d been so excited, and his classmates had been polite but not shy about asking her questions about her books. Most of them read her series because of Andrew’s prompting. Mrs. Graham, Andrew’s teacher, had been pleasant but reserved, watching her in the same speculative way the people at church had.

Overall, she’d had a fun, interesting morning compared to her frustrating evening last night, when Kane had excused himself after dinner and spent his evening in the barn until she’d finally fallen asleep waiting for him. It wasn’t taking her long to learn whenever Kane didn’t want to deal with something he sequestered himself in his workshop.

And he obviously didn’t like that she’d confronted him about his relationship with the Lindens. The man was hurting, way deep down inside, and she’d gone and pried open wounds that had apparently scabbed over but hadn’t completely healed. They never would until Kane resolved whatever was tearing him apart inside. She suspected his turmoil had to do with more than just the Lindens’ attitude.

The sound of a car turning into the drive pulled Megan from her thoughts. Glancing over her shoulder and shielding her eyes from the sun, she frowned as a tall, willowy young woman stepped out of an old blue Ford Mustang. The faded jeans she wore were ripped and frayed in strategic places, and a snug T-shirt displayed every voluptuous curve of her firm young body. Thick black hair fell into soft waves to her waist. Megan estimated her to be in her early twenties, young compared to Megan’s thirty-one years but plenty old enough to be a girlfriend of Kane’s. Her heart gave a little twist. He’d told her he didn’t want to get married again, but that didn’t mean the man was a monk.

The woman bounded toward Megan, a dazzling smile lighting up her attractive face. “Howdy,” she said amiably, her dark, exotic eyes full of mystery.

Dismissing her pang of jealousy, Megan returned the smile. “Hello.” Standing, she dusted her hands and brushed off the grass and dirt clinging to her knees, too aware of her grungy appearance. “If you’re looking for Kane, he’s not home.”

“Kane?” The woman’s perfectly arched brows shot up an inch. “Are you kidding? He’s never around when I show up. I’m sure he prefers it that way.”

“Pardon?” Megan was sure she’d misheard the young woman.

“I’m Joyce, Andy’s tutor,” she explained. “I tutor him every Monday and Thursday afternoon for an hour.”

“Oh.” Tutor? Andy hadn’t said anything to her about a tutor, nor had Kane. Frowning, she glanced at her watch. “Andy should be home any minute. Would you like to come in for a cool drink?”

Joyce hesitated, but there was enough curiosity in her gaze to contradict her reply. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You aren’t.” She rubbed at the slight twinge in her back from bending over the planter box. “In fact, it’s the perfect excuse to quit for the day.” And to find out why Andy needs a tutor when he told me he got straight As on his last report card.

Megan led the way into the kitchen. She washed her hands and retrieved a fresh pitcher of lemonade from the refrigerator.

Joyce slid into a chair at the table, a Cheshire cat grin lifting her lips. “So, it is true what they’re saying.”

Megan’s senses went on full alert, but her hand remained steady as she poured the pale yellow liquid into two tall glasses. She met Joyce’s gaze from across the counter separating them. “Who’s saying what?” she asked evenly.

Joyce blinked at Megan innocently. “The townspeople, that you’re living with Kane.”

Megan groaned. Kane had warned her this would happen. “Just to set the record straight, I’m not living here. I’m visiting Andrew.”

“Oh,” Joyce said quietly, though it was obvious by the gleam in her eyes that she’d formed her own opinion about the living arrangements, which coincided with the rest of the town’s.

Tamping her frustration, Megan carried the two glasses of cold lemonade to the table and sat down, eager to change the subject. “Is Andrew having problems in school?”

“No, he’s a great student.” Joyce’s brows creased thoughtfully. “As far as I know he’s never gotten anything below an A minus.”

“Then why are you here?”