“I mean it.” Paul sounded angry again.
Leah hesitated. Her heart was racing with hope. For the first time in her life she had a chance at real happiness, a promise of something more than she’d ever dared dream. A family. Home. Love. Yes, it had all belonged to her sister, but Diane had come to her in the dream. Diane had sent her to Paul and the children.
“Are you saying you’d be willing to marry me?” she asked in a rush.
Paul buried his hands in his pockets. “Yes. If it wasn’t so unfair to you.”
“Unfair?”
“Leah, look around you! I’m raising three motherless children. I’ll be paying Diane’s hospital bills for the next two years and—”
“I know all that.”
“I don’t have anything to offer you.”
Only a wealth beyond her wildest dreams—a wealth that had nothing to do with material things. He was offering her more love than she’d ever thought to find.
“What about the children I love? A home? A family?”
When Paul’s gaze connected with hers, he looked uncertain. “That would be enough for you?”
Leah nodded.
His voice was gruff with emotion when he spoke. “Will you marry me, Leah, for all our sakes?”
In a heartbeat. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I’ll marry you, Paul.”
Seven
“We’re mature adults,” Leah said as solemnly as she could. “We both realize this isn’t a love match.”
“We’re going into this with our eyes wide open,” Paul agreed.
“Exactly.” The relief she felt knowing she wouldn’t be forced to leave the children was so great that Leah slumped in the kitchen chair, holding up her head with both hands. She brushed loose strands of hair from her forehead and smiled weakly up at Paul.
“There is love involved, though,” Paul said pointedly, studying her.
She’d never been more aware of a man’s look. Engrossed in it. Absorbed. Since the night they’d kissed, she’d noticed that the way Paul looked at her had changed. Once again she wished she was more experienced in relationships, because she couldn’t say exactly how it had changed—or what it meant. He seemed to watch her more closely, his gaze bolder, less veiled. She glanced up to see that he was still waiting for her to respond to his statement.
“Naturally there’s love involved,” she said, speaking too quickly. “We both love the children,” she added, hating the breathless quality of her words.
Paul pulled out a chair and sat across from her. “The children are a vitally important part of this, but there’s more involved here. I want to know what you feel for me.”
Leah had come to know a directness about Paul that she loved…and feared. Her own manner was more subtle and she tended to think more slowly and methodically. To her, every aspect of a problem needed to be analyzed and then logically examined. It was the way she lived her life.
Paul, on the other hand, had neither the time nor the patience to mull over any issue. He wrote to a deadline, and believed that it shouldn’t take more than five minutes to think through a situation.
Defining feelings seemed to come more easily to him, as well. Leah had always found that difficult.
“Leah?” Paul prodded when she didn’t answer right away.
“I…I don’t know what I feel for you.” It was an honest answer…as honest as she dared. She was afraid to love him, and even more afraid that she already did. He made her experience emotions, physical desires, that she hadn’t known she was capable of feeling.
“What do you expect from this marriage?” Paul asked her next.
“I don’t know that, either. I haven’t had time to think about it.” Then it struck her, something she should’ve considered much earlier. “What exactly do you expect?”
“A wife.”
He left it at that, left it for her to fill in the blanks. “I…see.”
“Do you, Leah? After we’re married, I’ll want you to move into my bedroom, share my life and my bed.” He hesitated as though he expected an argument. “I realize you don’t love me now, but I’m hoping you will in time. Do you have a problem with that?”
Talking so openly had always made Leah uneasy. She lowered her eyes. “No…but do you honestly think we can make a marriage work?”
“Of course. Otherwise I’d never agree to it, and neither would you.”
“I’ve been so obtuse,” she said, recalling her conversation with his mother. “I can’t believe I was so inconsiderate. I really hadn’t given any thought to how the children would feel after I moved out.”
“I wasn’t thinking too clearly myself.”
“It’s so unlike me.”
“I know. Me too.”
“Why did it take your parents so long to say something?” The concerns Elizabeth raised were valid and should have been voiced sooner, in Leah’s opinion.
“I asked my dad the same thing,” Paul told her. “He said they’d just thought of all this.”
“Well, I’m glad they did—for the children’s sake.”
Paul merely nodded.
Paul glanced nervously at his watch. He only had an hour for lunch and Leah was already five minutes late. He knew something must have detained her, since she was as punctual as she was honest.
Pacing the hallway outside the licensing office in the King County Courthouse, he thought over the changes of the past two days. For the first time in nearly a week, he’d slept soundly. The erotic fantasies centering on Leah that had cost him several nights’ sleep had eased. When he went to bed, he closed his eyes, half-fearing she’d stroll into his mind. A vision of her had made nightly appearances since he’d kissed her. She’d smile seductively at him, and then his imagination would take over, tormenting him for hours on end.
But it hadn’t happened since Leah had agreed to marry him. Perhaps that was because he knew it was only a matter of time before he made love to her. He’d made sure the night of his parents’ visit that Leah understood theirs would be a real marriage.
There’d been a time, not all that distant, when he would’ve pleaded with God to help him, pleaded with Diane to forgive him and wallowed in guilt for even thinking of making love to his sister-in-law. He felt an acceptance now, an inevitability.
He needed Leah. Not for the physical release her body would yield him, although that was part of it. He needed her the way a man needs the substance of life. Air. Water. Food. Just as she was vital to his children, Leah was vital to him. He woke in the morning, and his first thoughts were of her. During the workday he often found himself looking at his watch and calculating how long it would be before he could go home—to her and his children. He wasn’t sure when all this had started to happen or even if it was a good thing. All he knew was that it was happening.
Did he love Leah?
Paul didn’t know. Certainly what he felt for her was unlike his love for Diane. In the months since her death, Paul had become more objective about his marriage to Leah’s younger sister. He loved Diane, heart and soul. He’d never experienced deeper grief than when he’d lost her. She was an unselfish woman, and he knew she wouldn’t have wanted him and the children to live alone. He genuinely believed Diane would have approved of his marrying Leah. Of Leah raising her kids.
To Paul’s way of thinking, if he were to marry a second time, Leah was the perfect choice. For the obvious reasons, yes, but for less obvious ones, too.
In marrying Leah, he’d still be able to hold on to Diane, remain emotionally faithful to her. The two sisters would be forever linked in his mind, his heart. Leah shared his love for Diane, and that alone averted the potential resentments and problems of a second marriage. Leah wouldn’t make unreasonable demands in an effort to force Diane out of his life.
Less than a month ago, if anyone—his father or any of his brothers—had suggested he remarry, Paul would’ve resisted it, regardless of the proposed partner. Even Leah. He hadn’t been ready, emotionally or in any other wa
y.
“Paul!” Leah hurried down the courthouse corridor. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”
She looked nice, Paul observed. Her hair was held back on either side by silver clips, and she wore a simple linen dress that skimmed her figure.
“I hope I haven’t kept you waiting,” she said.
“No more than five minutes. Don’t worry about it.”
“The babysitter was late, and then I couldn’t find a parking place and—”
“You’re here now and that’s all that matters.”
She placed her hand over her heart as though to calm its pounding, and Paul ignored the urge to put his arm around her. He found himself looking for excuses to touch her, but so far had managed not to. His fear was that once he did, he wouldn’t be able to stop. A touch would lead to a kiss and a kiss would lead…who knew where.
“We apply for the marriage license over here,” he said, directing her through a pair of doors.
She nodded, then paused before entering the office. “You’re sure you want to go through with this?” she whispered without looking at him.
If either of them was going to entertain second thoughts, the time was now. Yet Paul didn’t hesitate. He knew what he wanted; he wanted Leah. “Positive. What about you?”
Her smile was sweet. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
Applying for the marriage license took barely five minutes. Paul was glad that Leah had left the kids with a sitter. For the first time since she’d moved in with him, he had uninterrupted time alone with her—away from the house.
“How about lunch?”
His invitation seemed to surprise—and please—her. “I’d like that.”
There was a popular bookstore off First Avenue with a small restaurant in the basement. Paul ate there often and enjoyed the feel of the place. It wasn’t fancy, or even close to fancy, and it certainly wasn’t where a man would take a woman he wanted to impress. But it was a restaurant Paul knew Leah would love.
They stood in line to order, then found a table at the back, next to an old brick wall hung with bookshelves and pieces by local artists.
“This is perfect,” Leah said, glancing eagerly around.
“I thought you’d like it.”
She smiled shyly. “I have some exciting news.”
“Oh?”
“Kelsey took her first step this morning!”
Leah looked as proud as if his daughter had flown to the moon and back on her own power.
“I’ve been expecting it any day,” he said, smiling back at her.
“The boys were as excited as I was.”
“I remember when Ryan and Ronnie were that age.”
A waitress delivered their chicken pot pies and hot coffee.
Leah reached for her fork. “Who walked first, Ryan or Ronnie?”
“Ryan. He wanted his blankie, and since I was holding it out to him, the most expedient way to collect it was to take a few steps in my direction. As I recall, Ronnie refused to allow his brother to outdo him and walked almost immediately afterward.”
“It’s hard to remember the boys at a year old,” Leah said with a happy sigh.
Paul nodded, then said, “Leah, let’s not talk about the children.”
Her gaze shot up, and her eyes, which were a vibrant green today, reflecting her pale green dress, revealed her bewilderment. “Why not?”
“Because we’re going to be married soon.”
“You…want to discuss that?” She sounded worried.
“No. But at some point in the future the children will be gone and there’ll be only the two of us. We both love the children. That’s a given. We’ve agreed to get married for our own individual reasons, but in the end it’ll come down to the two of us. We need to build a relationship.”
“A relationship,” she repeated, as though the words felt awkward on her tongue.
“If you prefer, we could call it a friendship.”
Leah nodded. “You’re right, of course…. It’s just that I’m not very good at this sort of thing. You’ll probably need to help me.”
Her confession touched him. After all that Leah had done for him and the children, it gladdened his heart that he could assist her in some small way. He’d make this as easy on her as he could, guide her whenever possible, encourage her to feel confident in her own emotions. If he’d been forced to identify any fault of Leah’s, it would be her stubborn self-reliance. He recognized it because he was fiercely independent himself. As the oldest of five children, he’d learned early in life that he had to be.
“What shall we talk about?” Leah asked softly.
“Anything we like.”
An earsplitting silence followed. They’d lived together for nearly two months. They’d agreed to marry. They planned to spend the rest of their lives together. Yet when Paul took the children out of the conversation, they had nothing to say.
“Oh, dear,” Leah said, her eyes filled with alarm. She set down her fork. “This is more difficult than I realized.”
“Do you want to tell me about your garden, Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary?”
Her eyes brightened, but after a moment the enthusiasm drained away. “What’s there to tell you? It’s growing nicely.”
“My parents keep a garden,” Paul volunteered.
“Do they grow herbs?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“What about zucchini?”
“Enough to feed the entire state,” Paul said. His dad routinely dropped off huge quantities of the vegetable. Paul hadn’t the heart to tell him he’d rather eat gravel than zucchini. At least Diane had found a recipe—zucchini chocolate cake—that made it tolerable.
Their conversation got off to a slow start, but by the end of the hour, Paul felt they’d made some real headway.
When they’d finished their lunch, Paul walked Leah back to where she’d parked the car. Although he was late getting back to the office, he found himself reluctant to leave. He’d be home in a matter of hours, but he wanted to hold on to this time alone with her.
Leah didn’t seem eager to leave, either. She held her car keys in one hand, glancing down at them periodically.
Suddenly he felt an impulse to kiss her. But it wasn’t the kind of thing he was comfortable doing on a busy Seattle street. He knew any public display of affection would only embarrass Leah. Diane would’ve spontaneously thrown her arms around his neck and kissed him regardless of where they were or who was watching.
But it wasn’t Diane he was marrying; it was Leah.
Leah woke on the morning of her wedding day to bright sunshine. Paul had contacted a minister acquaintance who’d agreed to perform a private ceremony at his office, with the minister’s wife and his youth pastor serving as witnesses.
They’d arranged everything quickly, quietly. They hadn’t said anything to Paul’s family. Leah wasn’t sure Paul intended to say anything until afterward, which suited her fine. Being hovered over by his mother would’ve made Leah more nervous than she already was.
She didn’t doubt that she was doing the right thing in marrying Paul, but she preferred to do it without formalities. His family would’ve insisted on making a production out of it, which wasn’t at all what Leah wanted.
She’d purchased a white linen suit for the ceremony. Normally she didn’t wear a hat, but she’d found one she rather liked. The salesclerk had been very helpful, and Leah was grateful for the extra touch of style.
Diane had always gone with her when she needed to buy something for a special occasion. How ironic that Leah had never craved her sister’s opinion more than she had while trying to choose what to wear when she married Paul.
The ceremony itself took only minutes. Filling out the marriage license had been more complicated than the wedding itself. They’d decided on plain gold bands and Paul’s eyes, warm and reassuring, had held hers when he’d slipped the ring on her finger.
It had seemed appropriate to have the children with them; Kelsey stood between
the two boys who held her hands, and all three stared wide-eyed as their father married Leah.
Afterward Paul kissed her briefly. Although his mouth had barely grazed hers, a riot of sensations came rushing at Leah. She trembled in his arms and prayed he hadn’t guessed how strong her response had been.
When they left the church office, Paul suggested they visit his parents.
Leah agreed. The children would need to their afternoon naps soon, but there was time for a short visit.
Elizabeth looked mildly surprised when she opened her front door. “Paul, Leah,” she greeted them cheerfully, holding the screen door. “Come in, please.” She took Kelsey from Paul’s arms and set her on the carpet. “I hear she’s walking now.”
“Just watch. This kid’s headed for the Olympics at the rate she’s going,” Paul said, smiling.
“Paul.” His father strolled into the living room, looking delighted by their unexpected arrival. “Sit down, sit down.”
Leah sat on the couch and Paul joined her. The boys hurried to the kitchen and stood by the counter, waiting for their grandmother to offer them the cookie jar.
Elizabeth complied with a smile, then walked into the living room. If Paul’s parents noticed that he and Leah were over-dressed for an early Saturday afternoon, neither commented.
Paul reached for Leah’s hand, squeezed her fingers with his own, then looked at his parents. “Leah and I stopped by to tell you we’ve taken your advice. We were married about an hour ago.”
“Married!” his mother cried.
“Married!” his father boomed, vaulting to his feet.
Perplexed, Leah turned to look at her husband. Perhaps they’d misunderstood. Perhaps that wasn’t what his parents had meant. But Leah had been so sure….
Elizabeth started to weep softly.
“Mom?” Paul made no effort to disguise his confusion. “Good grief, I’d think you’d be happy.”
“I am.”
“Then why the tears?”
“Because you’re just like Taylor and Christy.”