I Do! I Do!

Chapter Two

Across one of the plank-style tables at Lone Star’s, a steak house down the street from Maitland Maternity, Gina studied Mason.

She hadn’t been able to finish her barbecued chicken, although it was excellent. The huge portions, however, didn’t prevent him from making short work of a platter of steak and fries, along with a salad. He ate exactly the way she’d imagined he would.

He also managed to tell her quite a bit about himself, and especially his relationship with his sister. Until now, Gina had known Mason primarily as Lily and Daisy’s uncle. It was intriguing to glimpse the larger scope of his life and his family.

Margaret, he’d explained, was eight years older than him and had already married and left the Blackstone Bar ranch when their mother died. Mason, who’d been twelve at the time, had helped raise Rance, five years his junior, and had assisted their father on the ranch.

In Dallas, Marge kept a busy schedule. She headed several social committees and ran a charity art gallery and craft shop.

“Why do you suppose she wants to go back to changing diapers and staying up half the night for two babies she’s never met?” Gina asked. “She’d have to give up most of her other activities. And it doesn’t get any easier when they’re toddlers, or teenagers, either! This is a twenty-year commitment.”

She stopped, surprised by her outburst. She didn’t usually state her opinions so boldly.

Mason spread his hands in a gesture of frustration. “Maybe because she knows she can win. What would I say to a judge? ‘Your honor, my brother and I were so close, he and his wife meant everything to me. Their children were going to be my children, too. Now that they’re gone, these girls are all I have left.’ That’s not a strong argument.”

“It ought to be!” Gina said.

“She’ll say she’s better suited in every way to raise the girls, and the judge will agree,” he concluded. “I have to come up with a counterargument. That’s where I could use your advice.”

“I can testify that they never visited the nursery,” she said. “You were there every day.”

“It might not be enough,” he said. “Before I knew for certain that Amy’s parents didn’t want the children, I talked to a lawyer about custody issues. He told me judges have a hard time weighing intangibles like bonding, so they take a by-the-numbers approach. Margaret can list a lot more advantages than I can.”

“Can’t you reason with her?” she asked. “The direct approach is sometimes the best one.”

The waitress stopped to take their dessert order, apple pie for him, sherbet for Gina. When they were alone again, he said, “Reason with her? I tried that this afternoon, on the phone. Margaret didn’t even hear what I was saying. To her, I’m still her kid brother.”

It was hard to imagine how anyone could see Mason as a kid. From across the booth, Gina could feel the heat of the man and smell the leathery fragrance he exuded.

“I wish I could help,” she said. “With all their activities, the Waldmans don’t sound like ideal parents for two medically fragile infants.”

“Medically fragile?” he repeated.

She hadn’t meant to alarm him. “I don’t mean that they’re in imminent danger. But they need extra care.”

“Like attaching the monitors.” He spoke to himself more than to her.

“Yes. Someone will need to check their weight gains, and take their temperatures, and log how much they’re eating,” she explained. “It’s not the sort of thing a person can do easily in between running a store and organizing a charity event.”

“It’s not the sort of thing a person can do while running a ranch, either.” He shook his head. “From a judge’s point of view, this looks hopeless.”

To Gina, the difference was clear. “You’ve got a full-time housekeeper, someone you’ve known for years, who’s dedicated to you. And you won’t get tired of the girls after a few months. You’ve shown you’re willing to sacrifice for them.”

Their dessert came. Mason stared at his apple pie. “You know what I want them to have?” he said.

“Love?” Gina guessed.

“Of course.” He gave her a weary smile. “Also, a sense of belonging. Memories, traditions. The kind of thing you get on a ranch or in a small community.”

She toyed with her sherbet spoon. “I wish I’d had that experience. The places we lived were fascinating, but I never truly belonged in any of them.”

“You must have been close to your parents, though,” he said.

A hollow sensation ran through her. She’d first become aware of it at her parents’ funeral, when she realized that in essential ways they’d remained strangers to her.

“We all kept so busy,” she said. “Dad worked long hours, Mom worked part-time and volunteered at church. I sang in the choir and took honors classes, and was a candy-striper in a nursing home. We hardly ever discussed anything except schedules.”

“Are they still living?” he asked.

“They died four years ago,” she said. “Their boat turned over on Lake Travis. A witness said Mom got trapped and Dad tried to save her.” Tears threatened Gina’s composure, but she held them back. “There are so many things we never discussed, so many ways I never knew them. I’d hate for Lily and Daisy to grow up like that.”

He studied her with an expression she couldn’t read. The silence stretched out before he asked, “How much would you hate it?”

“Hate what?” Lost in a swirl of memories, she could barely remember what they’d been talking about.

“How much would you hate for the twins to grow up without a sense of belonging?” he said. “How much would you hate for them to grow up as cute playthings for a couple who’ll barely have time for them?”

“I’d adopt them myself if I could, that’s how much I care,” Gina answered frankly. “Assuming, of course, that you weren’t in the picture.”

He flinched, and she realized he’d misunderstood. “I meant that of course you have the first claim on them,” she added hurriedly. “Not that I wouldn’t want you around. I mean…” To her chagrin, heat crept across her cheeks.

Mason smiled. “Good. Because I’ve got the most outrageous idea I’m ever likely to have. Want to hear it?”

“Sure,” she said, eager for a distraction from her embarrassment.

“Let’s get married,” he said.

MASON COULD HARDLY believe what he’d proposed. Or rather, that he’d proposed.

The last thing he’d had in mind when he asked Gina to dinner was marriage. Not because he wouldn’t want her. A man would be incredibly lucky to walk an angel like her down the aisle.

He simply wasn’t cut out for marriage. He belonged in the saddle or behind the wheel of a pickup. When he got into one of his black moods, he needed the open range to vent.

Three years ago, he’d fallen in love with Francine Lee, a pretty blond accountant who’d been visiting her brother, the veterinarian in Horseshoe Bend. They’d dated intensely, and she’d prolonged her stay for several weeks.

One night at the ranch, they’d cooked dinner together after giving Bonita the evening off. Mason had planned to pop the question, until Rance hurried in to tell him that a cowhand had ridden one of their horses without permission and treated it so badly the horse had suffered permanent damage.

The man had created problems before, although never anything so serious. He’d been tolerated because he was a friend of their late father’s.

At the news, something had snapped inside Mason. With Francine and Rance watching, he’d hauled the drunken cowboy out of the barn where he was cowering and punched him so hard the man flew across the yard. Mason didn’t remember much else, except that he’d fired the man amid a string of profanities.

Francine had been shocked. “You lost control of yourself!” she’d said. “How do I know you won’t do that again? Maybe next time, I’ll be the one you take it out on!”

She’d refused to listen to his protests, and demanded that he drive her to her brother’s, which he did. The next day, she’d returned to Houston, and hadn’t answered his letter of apology.

Mason knew that emotions could still run away with him under certain circumstances. There was a wildness to him that was part of his nature. He could usually keep it under control, but not always.

Over the years, he’d met rough-and-tumble women who could stand up to him, but none of them had come close to winning his heart. He had to accept the plain fact that he wasn’t suited for marriage to the kind of gracious, tenderhearted woman who appealed to him.

When Rance wed his high school sweetheart, Amy, and she became pregnant with twins, it had seemed like the answer to Mason’s prayers. The future of the ranch would be assured. He didn’t need to marry, as long as he had his brother’s family.

Yet here he was proposing to Gina Kennedy, a woman who was even more delicate than Francine. Was he out of his mind? He was doing it for the twins, though, not for himself.

“It makes perfect sense,” Mason said to the stunned nurse sitting across from him. “If I hired you to take care of the girls, even assuming you were available, it wouldn’t be enough to persuade a judge in my favor. But as my wife, you’d be unbeatable!”

She blinked a couple of times. “Mason, what are you talking about?”

“Didn’t I make myself clear?” he said. “I’m asking you to marry me.”

She swallowed hard before continuing. “So you can trump your sister and keep the twins?”

“And you can keep them, too,” he pointed out.

“That’s what you said you wanted.”

Those blue eyes regarded him levelly. “I’m going to do us both a favor, Mason. I’m going to assume you’ve suffered temporary insanity. Do you think you might wake up if I count to three and snap my fingers?”

At least she wasn’t stomping out of the restaurant. “Surely you can see the logic of it,” he persisted.

“People don’t marry just to get custody of children,” she said.

“People used to marry for all sorts of practical reasons,” he argued. “As I recall, the divorce rate back then wasn’t nearly as high as it is today.”

“That’s because people died young,” she said, then turned pale. “I didn’t mean…I guess that was kind of insensitive, under the circumstances.”

“No offense taken.” His sorrow over Rance and Amy’s premature deaths didn’t mean he couldn’t see her point. “I’ll tell you what, Gina. How about a compromise?”

“How does one compromise about getting married?” she asked.

Now that he’d had a few minutes to think about it, Mason could see that a marriage for the children’s sake, while it might suit him, wasn’t going to be enough for Gina. Sooner or later, she would weary of the grueling ranch life. Or worse, she’d become disgusted with his temper and walk out.

To make Gina unhappy and watch her lose respect for him would be agony. There was no need to put them both through such an experience.

“Let’s at least do what we can for the girls,” he said. “We could marry long enough for me to adopt them, then quietly divorce.”

“You’re kidding, right?” she said.

He ought to stop, but Mason couldn’t. If he did, he knew with sickening certainty that he would lose his nieces.

Without them he couldn’t face going back to the ranch. There would be no future, nothing to hope for. He needed a reason to go on living.

“Do this for Lily and Daisy, and for me,” he said. “Please. They could use your care for the first few months, anyway. You know that would be the safest thing for them.”

“I suppose so,” she conceded.

“I know it would be a sacrifice,” he said. “I can’t tell you how much it would mean—”

A thickness in his throat cut off the words. For a man who hated to display emotions, Mason had revealed more than he intended.

“I—I wish I could, Mason….”

He could hear the “no” in her tone. She might change her mind, though. “Don’t give me an answer yet. Of course, in the divorce settlement, I’ll compensate you for lost income and arrange for regular visitation with the girls. Please, at least give it some thought.”

“It won’t make…” She stopped. “I would enjoy taking care of the girls, but…”

He didn’t want to discuss this any further tonight. He might easily say too much. About how he ached to touch the spun-gold of her hair, for instance, and to tip her chin upward and explore her mouth with his own.

That would scare her off for certain. “Sleep on it, all right?” he said.

She nodded in reluctant agreement.

WHY HADN’T SHE just said no? Gina wondered as she parted with Mason outside the restaurant. Politely refusing his offer to escort her home, she chose to walk alone and clear her head.

To devote a few more months to the twins would help ensure them a safe start. Maybe she owed them that much. And what about herself? She might never again get a chance at motherhood.

Gina deliberately chose a roundabout route back to Mrs. Parker’s Inn. Although it was dinnertime, lingering July sunlight lured quite a few window-shoppers to browse along Mayfair Avenue. She tried to focus on the mix of tourists and casually dressed students, and on the city’s pleasing mixture of modern, Victorian and classic Southern architecture.

If she didn’t care for Mason, it would have been easy to refuse him, she acknowledged. But now…

Her thirtieth birthday was next month, in mid-August. Although these days women often married and had children late, to Gina that anniversary loomed like a deadline.

Now that she’d met a man she might actually want to marry, how could she refuse him? Yet how could she agree to spend months with him and then walk away? Her marriage of convenience would surely end in heartbreak.

Gina’s footsteps carried her toward the Oh, Baby! shop on Kings Avenue. Popular with the Maitland Maternity staff and clients, it featured baby clothes, toys and accessories. From half a block away, she thought she could detect the scent of baby powder.

It wouldn’t hurt to buy a going-away gift for the girls, she decided. At least they’d have something to remember her by.

In the ribbon-bedecked window, she spotted two yellow gowns trimmed with white lace and dotted with red hearts. They’d be perfect for Lily and Daisy to wear tomorrow when they were released. What were the chances that Mason would remember to buy going-home outfits?

Inside, Gina found the shop nearly empty at this hour and quickly made her purchases. When she emerged, she saw two friends from the clinic staring at the window display, and wondered what they were doing here. Neither Katie Toper nor Hope Logan, who ran the hospital’s gift shop, had children.

Of course, they might be wondering the same thing about her. “I was picking out something for the twins.” Gina indicated her packaged gift. “They’re going home tomorrow.”

“How sweet!” Katie said. “I know you’ll miss them.”

Wistfully, Hope spared one more glance into the window. “I’ve got to be getting home myself. I just…well, I’ll see you both later.” With a small wave, she hurried away.

It didn’t take a detective to note the distressed under-currents. “What’s going on?” Gina asked as she and Katie fell into step.

“Hope and her husband can’t agree about having children,” her friend said. “Kids are so precious, it’s hard to imagine anyone not wanting them.”

“Some people want them for the wrong reasons,” Gina muttered.

Her friend cocked an eyebrow. “You mean Mason’s sister? I heard she’s trying to claim the girls. She isn’t going to go through with it, is she? I mean, she hasn’t even seen them!”

“Yes, she is, and Mason thinks she might succeed.” If she didn’t open up to someone, Gina might explode, so she plunged on. “He’s got this crazy idea that we ought to get married until he can persuade a judge to let him adopt Lily and Daisy! Have you ever heard of such a thing?”

“Marriage isn’t something to be taken lightly,” the other nurse said.

“You’re not kidding!”

They wandered past a French bakery and were enveloped by tantalizing aromas. From a nearby club drifted the rolling beat of country music.

How could she consider leaving Austin? Gina wondered. She’d never lived outside a city, and, since her early teen years, had rarely traveled far from this one. It had so much to offer.

Including loneliness, when Mason wasn’t there.

“The scary part is that I keep thinking of reasons why I ought to do it,” she admitted. “For the girls’ sake. And because it might be my only chance to experience marriage and motherhood.”

“Experience marriage?” Katie asked. “As in experience Europe on your summer vacation?”

“I didn’t mean it that way!” she protested.

“Is this supposed to be a real marriage or a platonic relationship?” her friend demanded.

Mason hadn’t specified, Gina conceded. “I assume it’s a marriage in name only. I mean, he’s never…well, tried to get physical.”

“He’s a man, isn’t he? He can’t spend that much time with you and not eventually want more!” Katie halted, then made a clucking sound. “Would you listen to me? Ford Carrington’s a man, too, but no matter how long I’ve worked with him, he considers me a robot in a nurse’s uniform. It’s a lost cause.”

Gina hoped her friend was wrong. To her, the doctor and the nurse seemed ideally suited. “He might wake up one of these days….”

A couple of passing men broke stride to speak to them. Judging by their brand-new jeans, fake-looking buckles and stiff cowboy hats, the pair were tourists pretending to be Texans. The impression was confirmed when one of them said, “Howdy, ladies. Could y’all use some company?” It sounded like a line from a movie.

“Get real,” said Katie, and the two of them hurried on. They waited at least half a block before indulging in giggles.

“There are worse things than being alone!” Gina teased.

“Name three,” Katie said. “And you can’t count getting ‘lassoed’ by a couple of fake ‘cowpokes.’”

“Getting married, falling in love with your husband and then having to say goodbye,” she replied, sobering. “That’s three things in one.”

“A lot can happen in a few months, though,” her friend pointed out. “Isolated on a ranch, with nothing to do on those long, summer nights…”

“I don’t know what Mason has in mind,” Gina admitted. “But he didn’t make it sound like he’s in love with me. He wasn’t the least bit romantic.”

Katie’s expression grew thoughtful as the twilight lowered around them. “You’d have the satisfaction of knowing you tried. That you got off the bench and into the game at least once.”

It wasn’t the first time the two women had discussed their similar problems. Both were twenty-nine-year-old virgins, and they both longed for marriage and children.

Until now, the main difference had been that Katie knew who she wanted, while Gina didn’t. Now Gina knew, too, but she wasn’t sure she dared accept his offer.

“It’s such a risk,” she told her friend. “I wish I were braver.”

“You’re plenty brave,” said the other nurse. “I’ve seen you give your heart to babies that you knew weren’t likely to survive. That takes courage.”

“I couldn’t help it,” she said. “I don’t deserve any credit for that.”

“And remember that tough-talking young couple who wouldn’t take their son’s medication schedule seriously? When he was released, you stood up to them and laid out every terrible thing that could happen if they got careless. The father—he had a snake tattooed on his neck, remember?—at first I thought he was going to rough you up. Then he started blubbering. I’ll never forget the way he hugged that baby and said he couldn’t bear it if anything went wrong.”

“They came to see me on their son’s first birthday,” Gina recalled. “He’s doing well. I guess my horror stories worked.”

“So don’t tell me you’re a coward,” Katie finished. “Hey, look at the time! I promised to meet some friends at a club in ten minutes. Want to come along? There’s a bluegrass band tonight.”

“No, thanks. I’ve got some heavy thinking to do.” She gave her friend a pat on the arm. “Thanks for your support.”

“Any time.”

Operating on automatic pilot, Gina strolled back to her boardinghouse and went upstairs. Entering her room was like returning to the home where she’d lived with her parents until four years ago. Her mother’s china figurines filled a display case. Dainty lace curtains hung at the window, and Victorian-style furniture gave a sense of stepping into the past. It was a refuge from disappointments, from stress, from the modern era.

Gina got a chill when she tried to picture how she would feel, returning to this room or one like it after months as Mason’s temporary wife. How could she expect to fit back into her old life?

If she didn’t care so much, perhaps she might regard the temporary marriage as an extended vacation. But she did care. She cared too much.

She wasn’t willing to chance a heartbreak that would cut so deeply. Better to live with might-have-beens than to lie here aching, night after night, for something she’d briefly possessed and could never have again.

For her own self-preservation, her answer had to be no.

Chapter Three