The Austin airport was eerily quiet in the early morning, as a few sleepy-looking passengers awaited the six-o’clock flight to Dallas. At other waiting areas, undoubtedly other passengers waited for other flights to arrive or leave, but the steel-and-tiled structure was mostly hushed and still. Once in a while, there was a hollow sound of hard soles on shiny tiles, of footsteps amplified by their very solitude. Abbie’s disinterested gaze watched as a man ran past, his expression set and eager, indicating his lateness for a flight or in meeting a late arrival. Outside the long sweep of windows, dawn stretched lazy fingers across the horizon. Inside, the airport was bright with artificial lights and the faces of people engrossed in waiting. Some read—a newspaper, book or magazine. Some napped. Some talked to one another in low morning tones, soft and indistinguishable. Most, like Abbie, were sitting still, quietly waiting for a departure to somewhere else. She wished her plane would arrive, disembark its passengers and take her aboard. She wanted this long night to be over, these final, dreadful moments to be past. She wanted to be gone, away from Texas, away from the past few weeks, away from Mac.
He sat beside her in the waiting area for Flight 55, Southwest Airlines service from Austin to Dallas. There wasn’t anything to say. Even the trip from the ranch to the airport had been completed in near silence. “Is this all you’re taking?” he’d asked when she met him at the truck with her purse and a carry-on bag.
“That’s it,” she’d said in answer.
“Cool enough?” he’d asked on the road, offering in a gesture to adjust the air inside the truck.
“Fine, thanks,” she’d replied. “Thank you” and “you’re welcome” had been their only exchange after her ticket to Little Rock was purchased.
“Goodbye, Mac,” she’d said once she’d checked in at the gate.
“I’ll wait with you,” he’d responded, as if he had to stay to make sure she got on the plane.
So, now, here they sat, side by side, not speaking at all. Two people who’d come so close to something special and ruined it so completely.
The man who’d been running came back, carrying on his shoulder a little boy who was fast asleep, talking animatedly to a woman who looked harried but happy. A family, Abbie decided. Reunited after a night of flight delays and missed connections. A father, a mother, a child. Her heart ached for what her child would miss, for the reassurance she herself might have found in sharing some of the responsibilities, all of the joys.
Mac leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped, his hat dangling from loose fingers. The toe of his boot tapped impatiently against the carpet. His tension was high and so taut she thought if she touched him, he might snap like a rubber band, leaving her stinging from the contact. She didn’t know why he was tense. She was doing what he’d wanted her to do from the start. She was going, running away like a thief in the night, as if she had something to hide, as if she had something of which to be ashamed. Mac had done that to her. Even being fired from Miss Amelia’s Academy for Young Ladies hadn’t made her feel this deeply humiliated. Mac had accused her of being a liar, a cheat, a master manipulator, a gold digger. He thought her guilty of the worst sort of betrayal and believed every word out of her mouth was a lie. She ought to be glad to be leaving. She ought to be anxious to get gone. But the truth was, leaving the Desert Rose had felt awful. Terrible, Wrenching.
She’d left notes for Jessie, Rose and Vi. She’d left a brief note for her brothers, telling them she needed a couple of days by herself before they came after her, before she had to explain anything. It was optimistic to think they might wait a couple of hours, but she’d done all she could and she was flat tired of trying to buck them and their better way. As long as this crazy shotgun wedding business didn’t go any further, she’d take their advice about everything else. From now on, they could smother her with good intentions and she’d not say a word of protest. As long as tomorrow and Saturday passed without a wedding, she’d live the rest of her life under the suffocating shelter of their protection. It would be up to her child to exercise independence. Undoubtedly, the little one growing inside her had inherited some measure of Mac’s fierce pride and the uncles would be in for a rude awakening. That thought, alone, gave Abbie’s spirits a lift. Not much of one, but still a lift, to be sure.
“You’re sure you want to go to Little Rock?” Mac asked all of a sudden, turning his head to look at her. “It won’t give you much time to be by yourself, you know.”
“Home is the best place for me to go,” she said. “And with any luck at all, the boys will wait for Mom and Dad to get to the ranch later today before they all pack up and head for home. That’ll give me nearly two whole days alone. It’ll be enough.”
He nodded, looked as if he was going to say something else, then closed his mouth and stared out the window for a moment. A plane taxied to the gate and a few minutes later, arriving passengers began to straggle out into the terminal and waiting passengers began gathering their things, listening for the announcement that it was time to board. Mac frowned, and his gaze returned to her as if he didn’t have a choice. “There’s one thing I’d like to know, Abbie.” He hesitated, gave the hat in his hands a quarter turn, then a quarter turn back until it was positioned exactly where it had been. “When you said you could tell me and Cade apart, were you just saying that? Or did you mean it?”
She shouldn’t answer. Abbie knew it was stupid to think he’d believe her now, on this one very unimportant answer, when he’d believed not another word she’d said. But wounded pride urged her to leave him with at least one little nagging question to remember her by. “I meant everything I’ve said to you from the beginning, Mac. And yes, I believe I could tell you from Cade no matter what the circumstances.”
His expression turned skeptical but curious. “I don’t see how.”
“No, I don’t imagine you could, because you and your twin are truly identical. But I know the difference because of the way I feel when it’s you.” She inhaled, wanting him to know, embarrassed by what it revealed about her feelings for him but no longer caring. She was long past the point of thinking it could make any difference. “When Cade walks into a room or talks to me or smiles at me, it’s like talking to Alex or your Uncle Randy, or one of my own brothers. Nice, but nothing special. But with you, there’s always a little clutch on my heart, a sense of connection, and that’s how I know.” She picked up her carry-on, slung her purse strap across her shoulder and stood. “Goodbye, Mac.” Then, without a backward glance, she walked over, handed in her boarding pass and headed down the ramp.
At long last, and however much she might regret it, it was time for her to go home.
MAC KEPT TRYING TO BLAME his foul temper on a sleepless night. He told himself he’d done the right thing…the only thing he could do under the circumstances. By the time he reached the Desert Rose, it was well into the regular workaday routine. The morning chores were done, Stanley and Olivia were already working with their respective students, a few of the boarders were riding their horses in the outdoor arena. The sun was up and climbing, the summer heat rolling in with the promise of a sweltering afternoon. Cade was waiting at the barn, ostensibly watching the workouts, when Mac drove in.
But it wasn’t difficult to ascertain he was there with an agenda and the way he turned immediately and strode over to the truck told Mac it wasn’t going to be pleasant. “Where the hell have you been?” Cade asked tight-lipped. “Abbie’s disappeared and her brothers are fit to be tied. We were all hoping she was with you.”
“She was.” Mac slammed the truck door and started for the barn. “I drove her into Austin to the airport.”
“You what?”
Mac stopped, deciding to lay this on the line and be done with it. “She wanted to go and she went. There isn’t going to be a wedding and that’s the end of it.”
“She left?”
“Yes.”
Cade frowned. “What happened?”
“We talked. She said she didn’t want to marry me, never wanted to marry me, and that she was leaving. So I drove her to the airport and bought her a ticket and she left.” It sounded dry, emotionless, not at all the way he felt. “She won’t be coming back, either.”
“You okay with that?” Cade asked, his voice dipping into sympathy.
“Fine.” Mac purposely responded with an uncaring syllable and a shrug. “I’m saved from going through a wedding with a shotgun in my back. Why wouldn’t I be happy?”
“You don’t look happy.”
“Just goes to show you can’t tell by looking.” He made a move to pass his twin and go on to the barn, but Cade waylaid him.
“Go after her, Mac. She loves you. Everyone could see that, except you. Follow her. Find her. Tell her you love her and persuade her to come back here where she—and your baby—belong.”
Anger rose inside him, dark and frightening and directed completely and only at himself. “Why would I pull a damn fool stunt like that? She’s gone and I’m glad. Do you hear me? I’m glad she’s gone.” As strong as the words were, as forceful as they came out, it should have been a convincing argument. But Mac didn’t come within a mile of convincing himself. “She lied about everything, Cade. Right from the start. Even the last thing she said to me was a lie, meant to manipulate me into believing she felt something…love, maybe…when we were together.” He snatched off his hat, ran a restless hand through his hair and shoved the hat back into place. “She said she could tell us apart because of how she felt when she was with me.” He gave a humorless laugh. “It was a last-ditch, masterful maneuver. But not smart. Even Aunt Vi can’t tell us apart when we decide to pull an identity switch. Abbie can no more tell us apart than Alex can!”
Cade pursed his lips, pushed back the brim of his hat. “Not to burst your bubble, brother, but we couldn’t fool Serena, either. We’re not going to ever put this to a test, but I believe my wife when she tells me that even on the blackest night, she’d know which of us is which.”
“How?” Mac asked, wanting to hear the reply, knowing what it would be even before his twin gave it. “How can she tell when no one else can?”
“She says it’s how she feels, the connection that isn’t there with you.” He clapped Mac on the shoulder. “So, this time, I’m taking Abbie’s side. She loves you, Mac, whether you believe her or not. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have left.”
“She left because I didn’t give her a choice.”
“Isn’t it because you wouldn’t give yourself one?”
Mac couldn’t answer that. “I have work to do,” he said, and turned away.
“You can say that again,” Cade nodded toward the house. “They’re all there. I’d suggest you face the music now, tell them what you’ve done, and get it over with.”
Mac followed the line of his brother’s gaze and felt greater reluctance than he’d ever thought possible. “I guess I’ll go have a little talk with the Jones boys.”
“Not to mention Mom, Jessie and Aunt Vi. But just a word of advice, Mac. Practice looking happy before you go in there, unless you want them to know you’re as miserable as you look.” Cade turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Mac to square his shoulders and head for the next inquisition.
THERE WAS A GOOD CROWD around the long kitchen table—all of Abbie’s brothers, Jessie, Rose, Vi and Randy, Ella and Hal, Serena, Savannah and a couple of other boarders—and the mood was not at all what Mac had expected. They were laughing, several talking at once in a loop of conversation that seemed inclusive of everyone at the table…and stopped abruptly the moment he walked in.
Brad pushed back his chair and started to rise, but Tyler clapped a hand on his shoulder and they both remained seated. “Well?” Quinn voiced the question that apparently was on everyone’s mind. “Where is she?”
“If she’d wanted you to know that, I guess she’d have told you in her note.” Mac moved along the kitchen counter and poured himself a cup of coffee, as if that was the only answer he could, or would, provide.
“Did she tell you?” Brad asked sharply.
Mac was not going to lie about this, no matter what. “Yes,” he said.
“Well, then what are you doing here?” Jaz and Jessie demanded in near unison.
“Why didn’t you go after her?” Vi asked.
“We thought you’d gone after her,” Serena said.
“We’ll help you find her,” Uncle Randy volunteered.
“Put that coffee cup down,” directed Ella. “Time’s a wastin’.”
“She’s got to be back here in time for the wedding,” Quinn stated forcefully.
Mac stopped the runaway comments with a look. “She isn’t coming back. I’m not going after her. We aren’t getting married.”
For a second, there was silence. Then a cacophony of disbelief, which Mac ended with a sharp, “Stop it! When I asked Abbie to marry me, she said no. She meant no. No. Could that be any clearer?”
“You don’t know her like we do,” Tyler said.
“She hasn’t known what she wanted since she was a kid,” Brad said.
“She’s pregnant,” Quinn said. “You have to marry her.”
Mac looked from the face of one brother to another. “Have the four of you ever listened to a word Abbie says? Have you ever given her the benefit of the doubt? Just once?”
“We’re her family.” Brad shrugged off Ty’s restraining hand and pushed to his feet. “We want her to have what she deserves.”
Anger returned, flooding Mac with confidence this time. “She deserves to be heard. She deserves to make her own decisions, regardless of whether or not the four of you agree with them. And when she says something, she deserves to be believed.”
The sheer force of the words drove into the air, but it was Mac who nearly fell backward from the impact. She deserves to be believed. She deserves to be believed. She deserves to be believed. Abbie had said the baby was his. She had said she didn’t set out to trap him. She had said she didn’t want a loveless marriage. She had said she could tell who he was simply by the way she felt when she was with him. And until this moment when the words left his mouth, he hadn’t known he believed her.
“So what do you wish to do, Makin?” Rose asked softly, comfortingly, her mother love reaching across the kitchen toward him, as it had been reaching toward him all those years from the cells of her prison. “Should we cancel the wedding?”
It was, he realized, the last thing he wanted. He loved Abbie. He believed her. He wanted to be her husband and a father to their child. She had said it best when she told him he hadn’t learned anything from his experience with Gillian if it meant he couldn’t tell the difference between a deceitful heart and real love. He’d lived in such fear of treachery that he’d fulfilled the expectation and betrayed his own heart, and hers. “I’m going after her,” he said, sure suddenly it was the right thing to do. “I’ll bring her back if I can.”
“We’ll go with you,” Quinn offered. “We’ll make her see she needs to come back, for the baby’s sake.”
“Just tell us where she is,” Brad said. “We’ll be sure she’s back in time for the wedding tomorrow.”
It felt good to be able to say, “No. I love her. She’s having my baby. It’s my responsibility to find her and ask her what she wants.”
“You have a lot to learn about our sister,” Tyler suggested, shaking his head. “You have to tell Abbie what she needs to do. She’s not much of a decision maker.”
“She will be from now on,” Mac said, eyeing each of her brothers in turn. “I do have a lot to learn about Abbie, that’s true. But I can tell you this much, she’s an intelligent, rational and wonderful woman who deserves to make her own choices, and I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure she does.” Then grabbing his hat, he made eye contact with Jessica and asked her without words to follow him. He needed Abbie’s address in Little Rock, because he’d go door-to-door throughout the city before he’d give away her hiding place by asking her brothers for directions.
ABBIE COULDN’T REMEMBER ever being alone in her parents’ house before, and she wandered from room to room, aimlessly recalling holidays and other times in this sprawling but graceful place she’d always known as home. She could remember admiring the model airplanes in Quinn’s room, the meticulously painted soldiers and warships in Brad’s. She’d browsed the books and comics stacked in neat piles around Jaz’s bed and she’d played endless hours with Tyler’s collection of cars, trucks and things that go. Her room was still much as it had been before she’d left for college—pink, frilly, fussy with a few traces of a little girl trying hard to grow up. It was, she thought, partly her fault that she’d never taken a solid stand against her brothers’ meddling. Certainly her parents had offered at least some support for her claiming of independence, but she was the baby of the family, the only girl after four rowdy, death-defying, arrogant and endearing boys. They’d watched out for her before she learned to walk. They’d adored her from the start and wanted nothing but to protect her.
She should have started early if she’d truly wanted to be independent of them. She should have learned how to wrap them around her little finger instead of going along with all their plans since she was old enough to talk. She should have done so many things she hadn’t done. With a sigh, Abbie sank onto the powder-puff pink bedspread in her room and looked at the fashion statements of her own Barbie collection. Placing her hands on her stomach, she pushed in lightly and felt the baby kick out in response. No way would this little one let someone else direct her life. She—Abbie was beginning to think of the baby as a girl—wouldn’t let her uncles dictate to her. No sir. She would have her father’s fire, as well as his dark eyes and regal carriage. No one would dare tell Mac Coleman’s daughter what she ought to do. Abbie thought it might be a tough ride from time to time, but when this newest Sorajheean princess was grown, she’d be strong and sure and fiercely wonderful. And for that alone, Abbie couldn’t regret what had already come to pass.
She’d made it all the way to Little Rock alone. She’d taken a cab to the house, let herself in with the key her family insisted she always carry with her, made herself eat a meal, even if it had tasted mainly like cardboard. Then she’d slept several hours and awakened to roam the silent house, waiting for the inevitable stampede of brothers. Probably parents, too. The Joneses would definitely put in their share of traveling miles this week. But in the future, Abbie figured they’d all stay pretty close to this house, the home they all kept coming back to. Over the years, her brothers had moved out, gone on to pursue their own interests, but they gathered here routinely, and Abbie wondered if taking care of her had somehow provided them an acceptable excuse to postpone starting their own homes, their own families. Were her brothers perhaps, in their own way, as afraid of making that commitment to love as she had been with Mac?
It was an interesting thought and Abbie might have considered it further if the doorbell hadn’t rung just then. With a sigh, she pushed up from the edge of the bed, figuring they’d rung the doorbell only to give her fair warning before they unlocked the door and burst in around her in a plethora of affectionate chastisements and reprimands. But when she reached the entry hall, there was only a single silhouette on the other side of the sheer curtains that covered the half glass of the front door. Her heart gave a funny little clutch, told her even before she turned the knob and pulled open the door that Mac was standing on the porch. His hat was in his hands, as it had been when she’d left him in the airport. His hair was disheveled, his clothes the same ones he’d worn this morning, and his eyes showed the weight of whatever he’d come here to say. He looked tired, worried, scared and arrogantly determined not to show it.
“Mac,” she whispered, happy just to see him, despite having every reason not to be. “What are you doing here?”
“I love you,” he said in a voice that betrayed his tight attempt at controlling his emotion. “Will you marry me?”
Abbie blinked. “What?”
“I love you,” he repeated. “Will you marry me?”
She frowned, looked past him. “Where are they?” she asked, sure her brothers were there somewhere, certain they’d convinced him this was what he had to do. “My brothers put you up to this, didn’t they?”
“No.” Mac gave a barely noticeable shake of his head. “They don’t know you’re here. I didn’t tell them where you’d gone. I told you I wouldn’t.”
“Yes, I know, but they can be very persuasive.”
“Abbie, I like your brothers, but they couldn’t persuade me to take off my hat if it wasn’t what I wanted to do.”
She wouldn’t allow herself to project out the meaning of that statement, denied herself the seed of hope stirring in her heart. “But you asked me to marry you.”
“And you haven’t answered.”
“I said no the last time.”
“I remember. If you say no this time, I’ll respect that, but I reserve the right to try and change your mind.”
This was strange. Wonderful, maybe, too. Or not. Abbie didn’t know what to think. “Do you want to come inside? It’s hot out there.”
“It’s hotter in Texas,” he said, and she laughed, a soft, nervous, happy sound.
“Yes,” she agreed, “it is, but it’s hot enough here, so come in. Please.” He hesitated and she encouraged him with a wry smile. “I promise there’s no one here waiting to jump out and accuse you of ruining my already tattered reputation.”
“I’m sorry, Abbie. I’ve made a real mess of things.”
“You?” She shook her head. “I think I’m the one at fault here.”
He started to contradict her, but stopped. “I don’t want to tell you what to think, or how you feel. I came here because I realized how unfair I’d been to you and I wanted to tell you I wish I could go back to that first day at the airport and start all over with you. I had no reason to believe you were lying. I was just so afraid that you didn’t, couldn’t, love me that I set out to put up high jumps you couldn’t possibly clear, so I’d be safe from disappointment. But that was wrong, Abbie. Wrong of me and wrong for me. I love you. I’ve been in love with you since the first moment I saw you. The fact that we’re going to have a child…well, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little scared at the idea of becoming a father. But that doesn’t mean I won’t give it my best shot.” He stopped, swallowed a knot of emotion in his throat, then continued. “I love you, Abbie. Will you marry me?”
She forgave him in the space of a heartbeat but wasn’t quite ready to tell him so. “You know, this is my second proposal—third, if you count Andy Perkins in first grade—and I’m wondering if they all have to be supervised.” She nodded at the cab, still sitting at the curb, the driver peering at them through the open window. “I’m beginning to think a marriage proposal is a spectator sport.”
Mac glanced around, brought his gaze back to her. “I guess Andy proposed in front of the whole class?”
“During the Christmas program, in fact, in front of practically the whole school and all the parents.”
Mac frowned. “What did your brothers do to him?”
“I don’t know. Probably scared the dickens out of him. Andy never talked to me again after that, although I think I remember some rather soulful stares.”
“Maybe I should come inside and start this proposal business over again.”
She stepped back. “Good idea.”
But the moment he stepped over the threshold, Abbie didn’t give him a chance to propose. She didn’t even bother to shut the door. She simply went into his arms and lifted her face for his kiss. What difference did it make if the taxi driver was watching? She wouldn’t care if the whole world saw. She loved Mac and she was going to marry Mac. They were having a baby. And however this miracle had come about, she knew the truth had finally won out.
A long time later, after the door was closed and locked, after their lips were swollen and warm with kisses, after their bodies had spoken of a future their voices had yet to claim, Mac knelt before her and said again, “I love you, Abbie. Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she said. “Yes.”
And her proud Arabian prince bowed his head against her hand and breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I know I don’t deserve this second chance, Abbie, but I will be grateful every day for the rest of my life that you gave it to me.”
“You may regret it when my brothers drive us crazy with their interference. They’ll be doting uncles, I’m afraid.”
“Even if they try to move in with us—which we will not allow—I promise you I will never regret this choice. You are my sun, my moon, my stars, and I’ll do everything in my power to make you happy.”
“You did that, Mac, the moment I opened the front door.”
He grinned. “I hate to even mention this, but we should probably call in and let everyone know we’re okay. Otherwise…”
“…they’ll all be here by morning.” She ran her fingertips across his strong, handsome jaw. “I suppose we could call and tell them we’re on our way to Las Vegas and one of the wedding chapels there.”
“We could. But if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to marry you at the little church in Bridle, in front of your family and mine. If that’s what you’d like, too.”
Of course. The wedding should be there, in the beautiful hill country of Texas, where Mac had become the proud Texas sheikh he was at this moment, where their own child would grow up and become whoever she was meant to be. “I’d like that, Mac. I’d like that very much. And since our families have already gone to all the trouble of planning a wedding, we may as well show up for it, don’t you think?”
“Wouldn’t you rather plan a wedding yourself?”
She laughed, not caring a whit if someone else had decided what, when and where their wedding would be. “I think it’s a little late for me to worry about the small stuff. In a couple of months, I’ll have my hands full with your son or daughter. Believe me, the details of the wedding aren’t what I want to spend my energy on. I’d much rather spend my time honeymooning with my husband in the guest house by the lake.”
His smile made her fall in love with him all over again. “A perfect plan, Miss Jones…soon to be Mrs. Coleman-El Jeved, or if you prefer, I’ll just call you Princess Abigail.”
“Save the princess title for our daughter. I’ll just stay plain Abbie.”
“Beautiful Abbie,” he corrected, teasing her lips with a soft kiss. “My beautiful, independent wife.”
“First wife. And only wife. I’m afraid I must insist on your late father’s tradition of having no harem.”
He grinned. “If you think I’m going to have time for any other women, you have greatly exaggerated my potential as a husband.”
“It’s true, I’m planning to keep you very busy.” She paused, feeling humbled and yet empowered by his love. “Have you noticed how full of plans I am, all of a sudden?”
He kissed her nose and stood. Extending a hand, he pulled her to her feet. “But if you don’t focus your organizational skills on getting us back to Texas by tomorrow morning, we’re going to miss our own wedding.”
“Consider it done, my love. Consider it done.”
THE CHURCH WAS A GARDEN of fresh flowers and shimmering candles. Jessica, Serena and Hannah were in dresses of a lavender hue and carried bouquets of yellow and pink roses as they walked down the aisle. Mac, with Cade, Alex and Nick Grayson beside him, stood at the front of the long aisle, dressed in black jeans, black boots, white shirt, tuxedo coat and tie. The chimes of the organ sounded out the beginning of “The Wedding March” and the doors opened to reveal Abbie, dressed in flowing, high-waisted ivory satin, on her father’s arm.
Mac hadn’t expected the flood of emotion that filled him at that moment, but he knew it was right and good. From this day forward, he would place his trust and faith in Abbie and they would build a home and a life together. Their children would be born, knowing that despite a rocky beginning, they had been conceived in a love that was meant to be.
As Abbie reached his side and they turned together to face each other, Mac reached for her hand.
And miracle of miracles, she gave it to him.
THE RECEPTION LASTED even after the bride and groom had retreated to the guest house, where they planned to stay until—and this was given as a direct warning—they decided to come out. Abbie had said goodbye to her brothers, promised she’d report to them the moment her labor began, spent a little quality time with her parents and kept her hand in Mac’s the entire time.
Randy had never seen his nephew so happy and marveled at the turn of events that had shifted all their lives in the past year. It had been quite a year for the Colemans. Rose was back with them, reunited with him and Vi and with her three sons. They’d had three weddings in six months. Within the next few months, there’d be the birth of Mac and Abbie’s baby, then Vi’s and Jessica’s mutual birthday. Savannah was doing a great job getting the details of that surprise together. Then sometime early next year, Hannah and Alex would have their twins and there would be three babies to carry the Coleman-El Jeved legacy into another generation. Who knew what other events might come to pass in this ongoing cycle of living? Randy was enjoying this wild rush into the future, even as he wished he might slow it down a bit and have a little more time to enjoy events, like his nephew’s wedding. He looked around, noted the crowd was thinning, the food nearly gone, and he decided he’d grab two glasses and a bottle of champagne and see if he couldn’t persuade Vi to join him in a private toast.
“Hey, Dad.” Jessie walked up behind him. “Jared Grayson is looking for you. Says he needs to warn you about something. Maybe he’s decided to disown his worthless son and wants to give you a heads-up.”
“Jessie,” Randy said, weary with his daughter’s determination to dislike Nick, who was—in Randy’s view—a remarkable and extremely likable young man. “If you keep saying stuff like that about Nick, I’m going to have to start thinking it’s because you have a secret passion for him.”
She choked on a broccoli bite, glared at him, her mismatched eyes equally perturbed by his comment. “As if that would happen if he was the only man left on this planet,” she snapped, and marched indignantly off to tell someone else how much she disliked Nick Grayson.
Randy smiled at the thought that it would take a man like Nick to handle Jessie. But then, as he saw Jared approaching, the smile changed to that of pleasure in a long-standing friendship. “I’m so glad you and Nick made it for the wedding,” he said. “Means a lot to me and Vi. Rose, too, but she probably told you that herself.”
“She did,” Jared agreed. “Beautiful wedding. And a baby coming soon. The Desert Rose enterprise is growing by leaps and bounds. Which is what I wanted to tell you. Just before Nick and I left Dallas, I received a call from a reporter at the Dallas Morning News. Seems there’s a rumor afloat that Balahar royalty—I’m taking that to mean King Zak and his son, Crown Prince Sharif—are making a secret trip to Texas to look at the Desert Rose stock. I figured we’d have some flare-up of nosy reporters the first few times King Zak came to visit Serena, but from the questions the reporter was asking, seems to me you need to be on the lookout for more reporters at the Desert Rose.”
Randy sighed. They’d barely recovered from the last bunch of nosy newsmen and now it’d start all over again. The only reason no one had been here to cover the wedding today was because the whole thing had happened too fast for the papers to get wind of it. “Well, I wish they’d leave the boys alone, but I guess the idea of a story about three princes raised to be Texas sheikhs is just too great.”
Jared laughed. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and some other unfortunate royalty will do something to snag the media’s attention. But come what may, Randy, we’ll weather the storm and Coleman-Grayson will head on into the future, which you know as well as I do, looks very bright.”
Randy nodded. “It does indeed, Jared. It does, indeed.”
ABBIE TRAILED KISSES from her husband’s lips to his bare chest, then nestled against him amidst the tangled sheets. Her naked body cupped his with utter contentment and a happiness still too new to feel entirely real. But Mac was real. As were the soft, fluttery kicks of their baby in her womb. The last time she and Mac had shared this bed in the guest house, none of this had seemed possible. What a difference a day made.
“A penny for your thoughts,” he said, his voice a throaty vibration under her cheek.
“I was just thinking how happy I am to be here with you. We may have done this somewhat backward, but the important thing is that we ended up at the right place.”
He traced her lips with a gentle fingertip. “Not ended, Abbie. Begun. We’re beginning at exactly the right place. For you, for me and for our baby.”
“I guess it’s true, then,” she said, smiling as he gathered her closer into the solid shelter of his arms. “Real love stories never have endings, only a lifetime of happily ever afters.”
“A lifetime,” he agreed, kissing the top of her head. “And then some.”