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A risk worth taking
From the moment they meet, Matt Boyd knows Rachel Wainwright is The One. Doesn’t matter that he’s from the wrong side of town or that her family has bigger plans for her. They belong together—and they defy the odds to be with each other. Contrary to what everyone says, they will make it.
But when an unexpected tragedy drives a wedge between them, everything they share seems in jeopardy. Matt knows Rachel deserves the truth about what happened. Yet that truth could turn her away from him…forever. Before it’s too late, he needs to remind her that this relationship is worth fighting for.
”You knew we were meant to be together. We still are.”
Matt sized her up. And Rachel knew all too well the sensuous grin that followed. She didn’t want to experience that same old desire for him, yet it crept along her flesh, leaving a blanket of goose bumps.
He moved closer. “You’re still sexy as hell. And we can still be good together.”
“Sleeping together isn’t going to solve our problems.”
“But it might make us forget them for a while.”
When she turned to protest, he reeled her in for a kiss. A sultry, suggestive kiss. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d kissed this way. Couldn’t remember the last time they’d been this close. She did recall all those nights she’d needed him, but anger and resentment had prevented her from acting on that need.
She’d forgotten how good he felt in her arms. Truthfully, she hadn’t let herself remember. But now it all came back to her, all the things she’d come to appreciate over the years. The way he’d always held her in the aftermath, making her feel secure and cherished. Loved.
Dear Reader,
I’ve often wondered how people who marry at a young age manage to stay married, particularly when the odds seem stacked against them. Truth is, I’ve known two couples who are still happily united after thirty-plus years. I’ve found they share several common traits—mutual respect, the ability to grow and change together, a shared sense of humor and above all, an abiding love for each other. Out of curiosity, I asked one of those wives her secret for long-term success. She simply answered that she couldn’t imagine her life without her husband. That depth of commitment seems to say it all.
But what happens when two seemingly happily married people face a devastating loss that threatens to tear them apart? That’s what this story is all about. A couple who make a few wrong choices for all the right reasons. Choices that could make or break the marriage, because sometimes love isn’t quite enough.
I hope you enjoy this emotional ending to the Delta Secrets series. I’m admittedly sad to say goodbye to my fictional friends known as the “six-pack,” but I hope you’ve enjoyed reading about their journeys as much as I’ve enjoyed writing them.
All the best!
Kristi Gold
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kristi Gold has a fondness for baseball, beaches and bridal reality shows. She’s always believed that love has remarkable healing powers and feels very fortunate to be able to weave emotional stories highlighting love and commitment. As a bestselling author, National Readers’ Choice winner and a three-time Romance Writers of America RITA® Award finalist, Kristi has learned that although accolades are wonderful, the most cherished rewards come from networking with readers. You may contact Kristi through her website at http://kristigold.com, Facebook or through email at kgoldauthor@aol.com.
To my amazing children, Ashley, Kendall and Jordan, who’ve taught me that it’s the little things in life—and love—that matter most.
Contents
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
EPILOGUE
BPA
PROLOGUE
AS THEY TRAVELED the winding roads threading through the Smoky Mountains, Rachel Wainwright sent a sideways glance at Matthew Boyd, the boy who’d been the center of her existence for the past six years. Threads of gold glinted in his light brown hair, complementing his bright blue eyes that he kept trained on the road ahead. She’d left her home and financial security behind to make this ultimate journey with him, defying her father and, as some would say, the odds.
But before they went any further with their plans, she had to know if he was truly ready to take the next step—marriage. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Matt turned down the radio and gave her only a quick look before returning his attention straight ahead. “Only if you’ll promise me one thing.”
She would promise him just about anything. “Okay.”
“You won’t ask me again if I’m sure.” He topped off the comment with a grin, the one she’d fallen in love with in the second grade, even if she hadn’t fallen completely in love with him until five years later. That in itself had posed a problem. She was the daughter of a millionaire, and he the son of a mill worker. Her daddy had never accepted her relationship with Matt, but she hadn’t let that stop her. Still, he’d be furious if he knew she was eloping, not attending freshman orientation at the university. When all was said and done, he’d have to learn to live with it—provided Matt didn’t change his mind.
“I know I keep asking if you’re ready,” she said. “But everyone’s been saying that eighteen’s too young to get married and we should wait until after college. Do you wonder if maybe they’re right?”
His smile dissolved into a frown. “Are you coming down with a case of cold feet, Rachel?”
She shook her head. “No. I just don’t want you to have any regrets.”
He reached over and pushed a loose strand of hair away from her cheek. “I only regret that I couldn’t convince your dad that we’re meant to be together. That way you could’ve had the dress and the cake and the church wedding you’ve always wanted.”
“None of that matters.” And it didn’t. Being with Matt—marrying Matt—was the only thing that mattered.
His smile returned, but only halfway. “Glad to hear it. I reserved a honeymoon cabin that’s got a king-size bed with our name on it. And since you’ve made me wait all these years for the lovemaking, I plan to put that bed to good use for the next two nights.”
Despite her excitement over finally being with Matt in every way, she pretended to pout. “Then you’re only marrying me for the sex, huh?”
“I’m marrying you because you’re the only girl for me.”
And he was the only boy for her. Always had been, always would be.
“Okay, then,” she said. “We’re going to do fine, as long as we stick to our plan.” The plan that had been two years in the making. “First we finish college.”
“Then we buy the clinic,” he added.
She wholeheartedly supported Matt’s dream of becoming a veterinarian, even knowing it would require compromise on both their parts. “I’ll run the office while you’re becoming the best vet Placid, Mississippi, has ever seen.”
“You bet,” he said. “And when we’ve saved enough money, we’ll build that house on my grandfather’s land.”
Then came the most important part, at least to Rachel. “Don’t forget the babies. I’m thinking two or maybe three.” A boy first, with dark eyes and hair like hers, and then a girl, with Matt’s sun-streaked light brown hair and blue eyes. Or they could both look like Matt, as long as they were happy and healthy.
He tugged at his tie, as always looking uncomfortable when the subject of kids came up. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Right now we have to get married, and it looks like we’re almost there.”
Matt navigated the pickup to the right where a sign pointed the way to the Wayhurst Wedding Chapel, two miles ahead. Rachel could see only more rugged, wooded terrain and a few remote cabins peeking out from the thick grove of trees. “How did you find this place?”
“I went to the library in Memphis before school let out,” he said. “The reference librarian helped me find it, then I gave them a call and made the arrangements.”
Rachel worried Matt had spent too much money when a simple courthouse wedding would have been fine. “How much did it cost?”
“Not a lot. I told the lady named Helen who runs the place that we’re kind of strapped for cash and that it’s only going to be us at the wedding. She booked us this evening for a fourth of the normal rental fee. They also had a wedding earlier in the day, so we’ll get to take advantage of the decorations.”
More than likely he’d earned the discount using his trademark charm. “That’s very nice of her, but I have my trust fund. I could’ve taken some of it and told my dad I needed it for school.”
“You know how I feel about touching that money, Rachel.”
Oh, yeah, she knew. And sometimes his pride grated on her nerves like sandpaper on cypress. “You might as well accept it. We’re going to have to use part of my trust to get through school.”
“You can use it for your tuition, but I’m going to pay for everything else.”
Obviously he didn’t mind starving, she started to say, but withheld the comment in order not to spoil their special day.
As they rounded a hairpin curve, their destination finally came into view. And what a view it was. The sun had begun to set behind the hazy mountains, the emerald valley beyond serving as a breathtaking backdrop to the white chapel with ornate stained-glass windows and a heavy wooden door.
Rachel was both awed and appreciative as she stared in disbelief at the scene. If only her friends and family were there to witness the ceremony, the day would be perfect. “Oh, Matt. It’s beautiful. It looks like a postcard.”
“It sure does,” he said as he pulled the truck into a parking space in the empty lot. “Only the best for my bride.”
My bride.
In a matter of moments, she would be a bride. A bride with a typical case of butterflies in her belly.
Matt shut off the truck and shifted to face her. “Looks like it’s time to make it official.”
Rachel swallowed around a little knot of nerves. “Looks like it.”
He gave her a soft kiss. “Then let’s do this.”
Without hesitating, Matt slid from the cab, rounded the truck and opened the passenger door to help her out. Once her high heels hit the pavement, Rachel adjusted the knee-length white linen dress and smoothed a shaky hand over her hair. “Do I look okay?”
“As pretty as a Mississippi moon, darlin.’ I’m the luckiest damn man in the world, and you’re the most beautiful bride to ever walk this earth.”
She straightened his tie and the sports coat’s lapels. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“But I am forgetting somethin’ important.” He leaned into the truck, opened the glove compartment and withdrew a small black box. “We can’t get married without this.”
She lifted the lid to find a silver wedding band circled with tiny diamond chips. “I can’t believe you did this!”
He cleared his throat. “It was my mom’s. My dad told me she wanted me to have it to give to my wife. I know it’s not the nice set you deserve, but I promise someday I’ll buy you a new one.”
“It’s beautiful, Matt, and it’s special. I couldn’t imagine ever wearing another ring once you put this one on my finger. But I feel so bad because I don’t have a ring for you.”
He slid the box into the pocket of his slacks. “It’s okay. We can get one later.”
Rachel couldn’t fight the sudden melancholy. Couldn’t quite hold back the tears. This was her wedding day. A happy day. The most important day of her life to this point. But a few things were still missing.
When she lowered her eyes, Matt framed her face in his palms, forcing her to look at him. “Even if I’m not wearing a ring, that doesn’t mean I’m any less married to you. Besides, I’m left-handed, and when I start vet school, I wouldn’t be able to wear it anyway.”
She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It’s not only the ring. I was just thinking how nice it would have been to have my mom with me.” The mother who’d died shortly after giving birth to her daughter. “I know that sounds crazy, since I never had the chance to know her, but I still miss her. Don’t you wish your mom were here?”
He studied the pavement beneath his boots. “No use wishing for things that can’t be.”
She wasn’t exactly surprised by his attitude. He’d never been one to open up about his mother’s death, ironically the event that had brought them together. In fact, revealing the wedding ring had belonged to Meg Boyd had been the most he’d said about her in years. But his bravado didn’t fool Rachel. She was certain that not a day had gone by during the past five years that he hadn’t thought about his mom, or felt guilty over not being there the day she’d died. “You know, I’m not sure what’s worse. Losing someone you’ve known all your life or a loved one you never knew at all.”
He took her hands into his and gave her a heartfelt look that he reserved only for her. “I don’t know, Rachel. But I do know you’re never going to lose me.”
She prayed that always remained true. “And you’re never going to lose me, either.”
After he hugged her tightly, Matt stepped back and hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Can we go in now, or do you want me to ask if we can be married right where we stand?”
“Since I want to walk down the aisle, we should probably go inside.”
He pressed a kiss on her forehead. “Then let’s go get hitched so we can get to that honeymoon.”
She gave him her smile as easily as she’d given him her heart. “Let the hitching begin.”
Matt offered her his hand. “Shall we, darlin’?”
Rachel laced her fingers with his and held on tightly. “We shall.”
As Matt guided her up the walkway, Rachel prepared to pledge her future to the love of her life. For better or worse. In sickness and health. Through good times and bad.
At that moment she simply couldn’t imagine anything but a lifetime of good.
CHAPTER ONE
I’M NOT SURE what’s worse. Losing someone you’ve known all your life or a loved one you never knew at all.
After thirteen years of marriage, Matt Boyd finally knew the answer to the question Rachel had posed on their wedding day—both were equally bad.
Steeped in despair, he sat alone in the barren nursery with his back against the wall, a miniature baseball glove in one hand, a glass of smooth Kentucky bourbon in the other. He visually tracked the multicolored wild horses that ran along the pale blue wall, each one carefully painted by his wife. Then his gaze came to rest on the black letters stenciled above the empty space where the crib had been.
Caleb. His son.
He’d known him for only a few short hours. He’d known his son’s mother much of his life. Now both were gone. Four months ago his child had left this world at the cruel hand of nature. A month ago Rachel had left because he’d given her little choice. Or so she’d said the day she walked out on him.
Since that time, he’d awoken every morning in their bed and reached for her. The space beside him was always empty, exactly as he felt right now. He’d tried to convince himself her absence was only temporary. After all, most of her clothes still hung in the closet, and her shoes still lined the shelves. Everything in this house that they’d built together reminded him of her.
Turning to the bottle had been the only thing to help tune out the memories of her bitter accusations. Maybe he was an emotionally closed-off bastard. Maybe lately he did drink too much. Maybe he was unreadable. Unredeemable. But disposing of their marriage like yesterday’s news made her pretty damn unredeemable, too.
After coming to his feet, Matt set the glove on the vacant shelf, left the room and stood in the hallway outside the master bedroom. He raised the almost empty glass for a toast to his estranged wife. “Congratulations on running home to your daddy, darlin’.”
After he downed the rest of the whiskey that burned as badly as the unshed tears, Matt hurled the tumbler with the force of his fury. Shards of crystal rained down the closed door in splinters and shattered the silence. He stared at the scattered glass, hating his total lack of control. He had a good mind to leave the mess, but Rachel would be madder than a wet hen if he did. Like she was there to notice.
He gathered the largest pieces of crystal in his open palm and headed down the hall toward the kitchen, muttering a few oaths aimed at his stupidity, followed by a few indictments of his wife. So what if she’d left for good? He could get by without her. No use having her around if she didn’t want to be there. Goodbye and good riddance.
Still, when the doorbell chimed, the same old hope came calling again. Hope that she’d come to her senses and wanted to reconcile, canceling every negative thought he’d entertained only moments before. His fist automatically tightened, jabbing a jagged glass edge into his thumb. The cut stung like a scorpion bite, but he didn’t care. He cared only about getting to the door before she turned and left.
Then again, he didn’t want to seem too eager, so he tossed the fragments into the trash, turned on the kitchen faucet to rinse the trickle of blood from his finger and finally made his way to the front door after the third ring.
But he didn’t find Rachel waiting on the threshold—only a good friend he hadn’t seen in a while.
Sam McBriar had always been the serious type, and he seriously looked as if he might be on a mission. “Got a few minutes to spare?” he asked.
Matt mentally ran through a laundry list of excuses not to let him in, but the questions about his and Rachel’s recent breakup were inevitable. Might as well get it over with. “Sure. Come on in.”
He stepped aside and guided Sam through the great room to the dinette adjacent to the kitchen. “Sit,” he said as he gestured toward a chair.
Sam grabbed a seat and surveyed the take-out boxes from the local diner and the crumpled beer cans spilling out from the overflowing garbage can. Then his gaze came to rest on the open whiskey bottle set out on the counter. “Did you tie one on last night and fire the maid in the process?”
Matt pulled out the chair opposite Sam and collapsed into it. “Yeah, I know. I’m a freakin’ cliché. Wife leaves husband. Husband wallows in self-pity and garbage.”
“And booze?”
No sense in denying the obvious. “I have a couple of beers after work, just like I always have.”
“But you’ve been hittin’ the hard stuff today.” Sam posed the comment as a statement of fact, not a question.
“It’s Saturday.” The only legitimate excuse he could come up with. “I don’t have any calves to pull or colicky mares I have to treat. Besides, I only had one drink.”
Sam made a show of checking his watch. “It’s barely past noon.”
Matt’s anger began to simmer right below the surface. “Who died and made you my guardian?”
“I’m not telling you what to do, Matt,” he said. “I’m just questioning why you feel the need to drink whiskey after what you’ve been through with your dad.”
His friend could have gone all day without mentioning that sorry subject. “Look, I’m not my dad. I’m not hanging out in the bars every night and getting so drunk that I can’t work. I still put in ten-hours-plus a day down at the clinic. I see no harm in having a drink now and then. Nothing better to do.”
Sam shook his head. “Man, this isn’t like you at all. You’ve always been a scrapper, ready to fight for what you want. You’re never gonna get her back if you just sit around feeing sorry for yourself.”
The chance that Rachel was going to come back grew slimmer every day. “I can’t make her do something she doesn’t want to do. And right now she doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.”
His friend sat quietly for a few moments before he said, “Tell you what. Chase gets off patrol at seven. We’ll pick you up and do a little night fishing at Potter’s Pond. That way you’ll have something to do, at least tonight.”
Matt could see several flaws in that plan. “First of all, Rachel’s dad owns that place, and if he knows I’m there, he’s going to have me hauled into jail. Secondly, I can’t imagine your fiancée and Chase’s wife letting you take off for a fishing expedition without them. Lastly, I’m not interested in fishing today.”
Sam held up his hand and counted down, one finger at time. “First of all, Wainwright isn’t going to know we’re there, and if he finds out, we’ll have the law with us. Secondly, Savannah’s making an afternoon trip to Memphis with Jess and your wife to take care of some wedding stuff. Lastly, you need to get out of this house even if you don’t want to bait a hook.”
Matt could just imagine the conversation going on between Rachel and her friends. No doubt he was the featured topic. “I’ll think about it.”
Sam pushed back from the table and stood. “I’m not taking no for an answer. We’ll be here around seven-thirty. Just bring your pole, and Chase can take care of the bait. I’ll bring the hot dogs.”
Maybe getting out of the house for a little male camaraderie wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. It did beat trying to find something decent on TV, or staring at the ceiling, wondering how everything had gone so wrong. “Okay, but I’ll meet you there on the chance the fish aren’t biting.”
“It’s April. They’ll be biting.”
“I’m still going to bring my truck.” In case his friends took it upon themselves to lecture him about saving his marriage. “And I’ll bring the beer.”
Sam frowned. “Are you sure that’s such a good idea?”
Damn if the guy wasn’t treating him like some worthless reprobate. “We’ve always had beer on hand before. I’ll only bring a six-pack. That’s two apiece. No one’s going to get drunk on that.”
“Fine. Only two apiece. That’ll keep us all out of hot water.”
Maybe for Sam and Chase, but not Matt. He’d been up to his ears in hot water with his wife for weeks. Tonight he planned to relax and forget all about his problems. Forget that Rachel had left him high and dry. Forget that he harbored a four-month-old secret that kept him drowning in guilt. A secret that could destroy everything, especially the woman he loved.
* * *
BABIES EVERYWHERE SHE TURNED.
Even in a wedding salon, Rachel Boyd couldn’t escape the reminders of what she’d lost four months ago. A woman pushing a stroller down the sidewalk had just stopped before the picture window, leaned over and picked up a precious baby girl. The infant appeared to be around the same age Caleb would have been had he lived. But he hadn’t, and each day without him renewed her pain. Every moment without his father had been just as painful.
This was also the last place to forget her faltering marriage. The small boutique was filled to the max with giddy brides-to-be looking forward to their future. She, on the other hand, had no idea what her future might bring. But for the sake of one of her best friends, she pretended to be enjoying the outing.
Rachel glanced at the dressing-room door, anxiously awaiting Savannah’s appearance in her newly altered wedding gown. After a few more minutes ticked off, she regarded Jess, her other best friend and former sister-in-law, who seemed to be nodding off in the purple paisley chair. “What is taking her so long?”