Sophie nodded, wishing he were still kissing her, hardly able to think rationally. A twinge of unease fluttered in the back of her mind, but she ignored it. Perhaps she could trust him. He seemed so sincere. The man had brought her here and taken care of her and Maya so far. John Granger was her best bet.
“Then we will. Let’s get married on Tuesday morning, at say 11:00, with luncheon served afterward—just a quiet affair with family only.” His gaze burned with intensity and with something else—desire.
Sophie shivered. She couldn’t remember ever wanting a man as much as she wanted John Granger at this moment. If he would have climbed into bed with her, she would have been powerless to say no to him.
The thought sobered her. “Eleven it is as long as my dress is ready.” Her mouth trembled into a smile in spite of her fears.
“I’ll call Mrs. Bechdol today and have her deliver it by tomorrow—no ifs, ands, or buts.” John smiled and brushed a hair back from Sophie’s face. “You’re gorgeous, bruises and all.”
She swatted at his hand. “Gee, thanks. Remember what I said, though. I’m serious about leaving if anything else happens to scare me or put Maya in danger.”
“I know, and I am, too, about keeping you safe. I’ll see you later. I have some planning to do for our honeymoon. Rest up.” He gave her a small smile and left.
His words were a promise, but a dark cloud hung over their future together. If someone had tried to kill her, would he or she try again?
Chapter Eight
The next day went off without a hitch. The weather was bright and warm for the time of year—all the way up to 35 degrees with nary a snowflake in sight. Sophie was stiff but able to make it to the courthouse to get the marriage license. John was full of smiles and radiated hope. She loved seeing him that way.
“Will you be happy with a honeymoon in Mexico?” He asked, looking striking in a pale blue leisure suit. His cane tapped along as they walked.
“Mexico?” Sophie gasped. “I would love to go somewhere warm and sunny, but only if Maya can come.” The thought of getting away from Haven House for a while appealed to her even more than the climate change did, but Sophie didn’t mention that.
“Of course she can. Did you think I’d even consider leaving her behind?” He asked, hugging Sophie tightly as they left the courthouse, license in hand.
“Then, the answer is yes,” Sophie said, snuggling next to him as they walked down the stairs toward the car.
The Black Hills loomed in the distance as did the local tourist attractions. There would be time to see them all, but there was too much to be done today for her and John to linger in town.
“Good. Let’s get back and make sure everything is ready for tomorrow,” John said, kissing her lightly on the cheek.
He still seemed to be wary about pushing her too far in the romance department, but the shared feeling of interest between them was undeniable. Sophie believed, with time, it would blossom into love.
* * * *
Once Maya was snuggled in her crib that night, Sophie went back to her bedroom. She wanted to try the wedding dress on again. It was gorgeous, with glimmering beads, some sequins, and yards of lace—something she could only have dreamed of—fit for royalty.
She slipped the silken piece of perfection on over her underclothes and studied her reflection. Her red hair was aflame, her skin smooth and youthful. She was transformed—a woman in the first blush of love, glowing, and ready for her husband.
At that moment, the phone on the nightstand in her room rang. It never had before. The bedrooms had their own personal extensions, but one had to know the proper extension of the particular bedroom to dial it. Sophie frowned. “Who in the world could that be?” Then, she smiled. It had to be John, wanting to wish her well before the wedding tomorrow morning. They wouldn’t see each other until she walked down the aisle of the family chapel, after all.
She picked up the phone, her heart fluttering. “Hello?”
“Sophie, it’s Evan. Can you come out to the greenhouse? I wanted to show you the orchids for tomorrow and your bouquet.”
“Evan?” Her heart flipped in disappointment, but she tried not to show it. “Oh, okay. I guess so. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” She glanced at her watch. It was 8:30. Not too late, but she was surprised Evan was calling her to the greenhouse now. He had insisted on doing the flowers for the wedding and would be decorating the chapel with them tomorrow morning. Maybe he was still trying to make nice for how ugly he had been to her before.
She would let him try.
Sophie changed into jeans, an old blue sweatshirt, and her tennis shoes. She swept her hair into a ponytail and darted into the nursery to check on the baby. She just couldn’t resist it. Her daughter was sleeping deeply, taking sweet little breaths.
“Goodnight, little one. Tomorrow, our lives will change,” Sophie whispered, touching the baby’s warm head and then leaving. She took the elevator downstairs, unwilling to brave the stairs after her recent fall. Sophie didn’t care if that made her a coward. She would rather be safe than sorry—or have a panic attack the night before her wedding. The elevator creaked down to the first floor.
She found her coat in the closet near the door. The house was silent, as if it were waiting for something. Sophie and John had parted ways after dinner, and she supposed he was busy, or just enjoying his last night of freedom as a single man.
She grinned at that thought as she buttoned her coat and walked out the front door. The wind howled, and Sophie shivered, in spite of the relative
