The Marriage Prescription

But she was still Beth, and he had to remember that. She wasn’t like the women he usually dated. Beth was a forever kind of girl. He frowned at the thought of the ex-husband he’d never met. But Zach didn’t have to meet him to know he didn’t like him. Anyone who hurt Beth was his enemy.

Zach clenched his jaw. No matter how much he was attracted to her, he would never, ever take advantage of her. Beth meant too much to him. Even if a misguided need for revenge or an urge to prove she could seduce him started her thinking along those lines, he would not allow it to happen. He almost laughed at that. Wishful thinking on his part. There was no denying what he still felt. But…he would protect her just as he always had.

He would protect her from him.

For the most private investigations.

The Marriage Prescription

Debra Webb

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Debra Webb was born in Scottsboro, Alabama, to parents who taught her that anything is possible if you want it badly enough. She began writing at age nine. Eventually she met and married the man of her dreams and tried some other occupations, including selling vacuum cleaners and working in a factory, a day-care center, a hospital and a department store. When her husband joined the military, they moved to Berlin, Germany, and Debra became a secretary in the commanding general’s office. By 1985 they were back in the States, and they finally moved to Tennessee, to a small town where everyone knows everyone else. With the support of her husband and two beautiful daughters, Debra took up writing again, looking to mystery and movies for inspiration. In 1998 her dream of writing for Harlequin came true. You can write to Debra with your comments at P.O. Box 64, Huntland, Tennessee 37345.

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

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Prologue

More than three decades ago…

The three women sat in the elegant parlor, two on the original Sheraton sofa, one in a stately wing-back chair on the opposite side of an exquisite Chippendale table. Tea sat cooling in its gleaming silver pot, the one the lady of the house used for very special visitors. And today’s visitor was the most special of all.

An expectant silence had filled the air for far too long before someone finally spoke. “I think this is the best solution for everyone,” she said with a smile that masked the inner turmoil she didn’t want the others to see. Bringing these two together was the perfect solution. She glanced at her dear friend who sat at her side. It could work. She knew it could.

“I agree, my friend,” the oldest of the three added in that refined tone polished by years of finishing school. “I can assure you that if you choose this solution,” she said to the youngest, “the child will never want for anything. Never. The finest health care and schooling will be provided, regardless of cost. The child will have the best of everything, including parents that will love him or her with all their hearts.”

She noticed the tears in her dear friend’s eyes as she spoke and she blinked furiously to hold back her own. This was the right thing to do. It was in the best interest of all concerned. How could any of them lose? They couldn’t. She would not have arranged this meeting otherwise.

“I—I know both of you are right,” the young woman said hesitantly. She was eighteen, unmarried and pregnant…she was desperate. The baby’s father was missing in action, presumed dead. “It’s just that this is so hard.” Her own tears welled past her lashes and rolled down her pale cheeks. She placed her palm against her still flat abdomen and seemed to gather her courage. “But this is the best way. I know that. My child will be better off with you.” She smiled faintly through her tears. “So, how do we do this?”

The oldest of the three smiled warmly, anticipation lighting her eyes. “Don’t worry dear, we’ll take care of everything. You won’t ever have to worry again.”

Chapter One

He had no choice.

For the first time in his adult life, Zach Ashton was going to have to put his personal life before his professional one. And it wasn’t an easy task. His natural inclination was career first, and anything else worth having would follow. It was the law by which all Ashtons lived.

“You’re sure two weeks won’t be a problem?” Zach paused in his restless pacing to study his long-time boss, Victoria Colby, as she considered his question.

“I’m quite sure. You should take as much time as you need. We’ll be fine here.”

He braced his hands on the backs of the two wing chairs flanking her massive oak desk and blew out a weary breath. “Johnson and Wilks have everything under control,” he said as much to himself as to Victoria. “They have my mother’s number if they need me for anything.”

Victoria searched his face with that assessing gaze of hers and then hit the nail right on the head. “Who are you trying to convince, Zach, me or you?”

Moving around one of the chairs, he dropped into it and leaned his head against its high back. “Me, I think.” He settled his gaze on Victoria’s then. “She’s the only family I have left, and I love her. I can’t not go.” He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. He’d agonized over this decision all night. “A week from Saturday is her birthday for Christ’s sake. I have to be there. But two weeks?” He shook his head. “Can I tolerate two whole weeks without the rush of a legal coup?”

Victoria flared her palms. “You said yourself that considering your mother’s recent heart attack and her age, you couldn’t afford not to go for an extended visit.”

Zach nodded. “Seventy-five’s a major milestone. And the heart attack scared the hell out of me. I have to stay the whole two weeks. I’m just not sure either of us will survive it. We’re both too accustomed to having our way.”

Victoria smiled with understanding. She, of all people, knew Zach rarely took no for an answer when he wanted something. He’d inherited that tenacious trait from his mother.

“Forget work,” Victoria suggested. “Enjoy your mother. Let this be her time. Acquiesce to her every demand. Who knows? Maybe you’ll have more fun than you expect.”

He arched a skeptical brow. “In Kelso, Indiana? Population not nearly enough. I doubt it.” Zach stood. “But I’ll go.”

“Good.” Victoria rose from her chair. “I’ll see you in two weeks then.”

Zach hesitated at the door and produced a feigned smile. “And I’ll enjoy every minute of it if it kills me.”

There was a very good chance it would, Zach didn’t add as he slipped out of his boss’s office and closed the door behind him. He hadn’t spent more than a day or two at one time back home in too many years to remember. It was true that part of the reason was the fact that he and his mother were so very much alike, both determined to do things their own way. But Zach dearly loved his mother and he always deferred to her wishes. Always. She had taught him to go after what he wanted with a vengeance, and to never say die. Like any good son, Zach had learned his lesson well. Only once in his entire life had he backed away from what he really wanted. And therein lay the other part of the reason he rarely went home for a lengthy stay.

But he didn’t know why he was worried so much about it, she wouldn’t be there anyway.

“YOU TELL that old battle-ax that I wouldn’t coordinate her birthday party now if she begged me to!”

Beth McCormick stared, appalled, at her mother, then turned her attention to her mother’s employer. “Mrs. Ashton, I’m sure Mother didn’t mean to say battle-ax. You’ll have to forgive her, she’s been under a lot of stress lately, and—”

“You’re darned tootin’ I meant battle-ax,” Helen McCormick argued, her dark eyes glittering with anger. She stood now, her fists planted firmly on her hips. “I’m washing my hands of the whole affair!”

Other than the red tingeing her cheeks, Colleen Ashton showed little outward reaction to her oldest friend’s outburst. Calmly, Colleen turned her regal head in Beth’s direction and smiled patiently. “Beth, if she chooses to resign her post as chairperson of my birthday party, it’s perfectly all right with me. I’m quite certain that the event will be a great deal more appealing and fresh without an old bag like her running the show anyway.”

Helen’s eyes bulged with indignation. “Why I ought to—”

“Mother.” Beth jumped to her mother’s side and tugged her toward the parlor door. “We’ll get this all straightened out, Mrs. Ashton. Don’t worry about anything. Your birthday will be everything you’ve dreamed it would be.”

Colleen rose, not a single elegant feather appearing ruffled. “I’m sure you’ll do a much better job than your mother.”

Beth stalled halfway to the door. She couldn’t mean… “But I—”

“Don’t worry, dear,” Colleen assured her, “Zach is arriving this afternoon. He’ll be more than happy to help you make all the arrangements. We won’t need anyone else,” she added with a pointed stare at her old friend.

Helen McCormick glared at Colleen Ashton, but to her credit she didn’t retaliate. Not verbally anyway. Instead, she stamped out of the room, down the entry hall and out the front door, slamming it firmly behind her.

Beth shrugged, uncertain what to say. Opting to remain silent for fear of unintentionally volunteering for something else she’d regret, Beth rushed out of the house to catch up with her mother.

“Mother!” Beth dashed across the porch and down the steps, then matched her stride to her mother’s furious one. “What in the world was that all about?”

“I have nothing else to say on the subject,” Helen snapped, then compressed her lips into that firm line that indicated the depth of her fury much more so than anything she could have said. Whatever had happened, Beth’s usually unflappable mother was fit to be tied.

“This is ridiculous,” Beth insisted. “You and Mrs. Ashton have been friends for a lifetime. What could possibly have happened to cause such a falling out?”

Helen stopped abruptly and turned to face her daughter. With her gray hair in its usual neat style, and wearing her jeans and work shirt, both meticulously pressed, she looked just as she always did—serene, earthy. But something was very, very wrong.

Beth’s mother had been head housekeeper and cook in the Ashton home for forty years. She’d been overseer of the estate grounds as well since Beth’s father died. Although she no longer did much of the actual work herself, no one dared to challenge Helen’s authority when it came to the care and keeping of the house or the property. Not to mention she’d been companion to and best friends with the mistress of the estate for most of that same forty years. Never in Beth’s entire life had she seen these two old friends at odds like this.

Never.

“Let’s just say that there are some things that need to be said, and it’s not my place to do the saying,” Helen told her without telling her anything at all.

With that, she stormed across the driveway and up the stone path of the east garden to her cottage.

Beth stared after her until she’d disappeared inside. Exasperated, Beth considered the small, inviting cottage in which she had grown up. Ivy partially covered the gray stone walls, while the east garden provided a picturesque setting with its array of rose bushes and other flowering shrubs that Beth’s father had seen to the nurturing of for nearly half a century. Ancient trees stood majestically above the wood-shingled roof, the heavy green boughs blending with those of the dense woods scarcely fifty yards behind the cottage. On the south side towered one massive old tree in particular that held fond memories for Beth. The giant oak on whose sturdy branch her father had hung her first swing with its wooden seat and heavy braided rope cables. The very one still hanging there today.

The memory of laughing as Zach Ashton pushed her ever higher in that swing flooded her being. She closed her eyes and relived the feel of the wind on her face, the sound of his deep, rich laughter. Though much older than she, he’d proven a reliable friend and even an occasional playmate. Beth opened her eyes and grimaced at the memory. Zach would likely consider that time with her more baby-sitting duty than playtime. The worst part was that she had been in love with him since she was twelve years old.

She’d watched him graduate from high school and go off to law school, and in her heart of hearts she’d known that when he finished his education he’d come back for her.

But he hadn’t.

He’d come back all right, but not for her.

So certain of their future together that at seventeen, she’d felt compelled to show him once and for all just how much she loved him. Beth cringed now at the thought. Zach had come home for a weekend visit and she’d thrown herself at him, professing her love and offering him her innocent, young body.

He had refused.

Beth took a deep breath and shoved those thoughts and the hurt that still accompanied them way back into a dark corner where they belonged. This was not the time to dawdle in the past. She had to find a way to patch the rift between her mother and Zach’s. Otherwise she was going to be stuck organizing this birthday party.

Her eyes widened as Mrs. Ashton’s final words sank fully into her head. Zach would be here this afternoon.

Today.

Oh, God.

Beth’s stomach quivered and her knees felt suddenly weak. Now, she decided, would be an excellent time for her to take a vacation anywhere but here. But she couldn’t. She had patients depending upon her. One in particular.

“Okay, girl, you can do this.” Beth took another deep breath and forced her feet in the direction of home.

This wouldn’t be the first time Zach had come home for a brief visit. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen him in all this time since he’d brutally broken her young heart. She’d seen him several times. Even exchanged hellos and how are yous. She halted mid-step.

But she hadn’t seen him since…

…the day she’d announced her impending marriage.

…a marriage that had proven a huge mistake.

Wasn’t she the picture of success? Thirty-one, divorced and living with her mother. God, she was pathetic.

Beth squared her shoulders. This was the new millennium. Divorce wasn’t a disease and living with her mother wasn’t a measure of her lack of success in life. Both simply were.

Besides, Zach Ashton was just a childhood memory…a local legend in these parts. The richest, most eligible bachelor in Higdon County. All the girls had loved him. But that was then and this was now. Beth grinned impishly. The guy was a lawyer. She knew plenty of lawyers. He was probably overweight, balding and sporting reading glasses.

She hadn’t seen him in…five years? That was about right. He’d come home briefly when Mrs. Ashton had been hospitalized following her heart attack, but Beth had been away participating in a medical conference at the time. And since she’d only been living with her mother for four months, her schedule and Zach’s, as far as the couple of visits he’d made, had not coincided.

She felt immensely better now. Beth started toward the cottage again. She might be divorced and living at home with her mother, but she had kept her figure. In fact, she took excellent care of herself. She ran three miles everyday and worked out, was still lucky to have great skin and not the first sign of gray hair. And her salary as a physician allowed her to invest wisely and to dress well.

Well, usually she dressed well.

Today being an exception since she was helping her mother in the garden and wasn’t on call. At sixty-five, Helen was slowing considerably, but she refused to allow the gardener to come near the roses—roses Beth’s father had planted. She smiled. Since she was living at home now, the least she could do was give her mother a hand from time to time. Besides, she’d always loved to play in the flowers. And jeans and T-shirts were still her favorite off-duty attire. She could care less if the president himself was stopping by this afternoon. Beth had no intention of behaving any differently than she always did.

The sound of a car pulling into the drive brought her up short. She turned around slowly and shaded her eyes from the sun with her hand. Please don’t let this be him, Lord, she pleaded. I know I just said I didn’t care, but it was a little white lie. I need to be prepared before I face the man.

A red sports car braked to a stop and the driver climbed out and stretched as if he’d been sitting too long. Though she didn’t recognize the car, Beth had that feeling. He turned toward her. Her heart stilled during the hesitation that followed. Then, as if finally recognizing her, a brilliant smile broke out across his face.

It was him.

“Beth!”

Zach Ashton strode in her direction and her heart felt as if it had stopped beating entirely…which was impossible since she didn’t drop dead.

He was not fat.

Or balding.

Or wearing reading glasses.

He was perfect. Just like all those years ago, only better. He was tall, lean and absolutely gorgeous. His khakis might be slightly travel wrinkled, but the navy blue polo shirt that molded to his perfect pecs and broad shoulders more than made up for it.

He stopped directly in front of her, pulled off his designer sunglasses and hugged her fiercely.

He smelled like fresh air and sandalwood. And his strong arms felt like heaven around her. For about two seconds she resisted the urge to press her cheek to his chest and then she gave in. He’d held her just like this a hundred times before. When she’d cried after Sammy Potter pushed her down on the playground. When she’d gotten her period at eleven and realized she had to be a girl whether she wanted to or not. And then, at sixteen when her father had died and she’d been devastated.

Eventually Zach drew away and stared down at her, his hands still bracketing her waist. “God, you look great.”

Color shot to her cheeks. She did not look great. She had on jeans and a T-shirt and worn-out sneakers. She was sweaty and dusty from puttering in the garden with her mother.

She was—darn it—she was a mess.

“Hi, Zach,” she managed to croak. “You look…terrific.”

Boy did he. His hair was shorter, but still dark and thick. Those eyes. She melted just looking into them. As clear and blue as when he’d been twenty-two and visiting from college. And his face. How could anyone so close to forty still look that damn good? There was a line or two here and there, but they only gave him character.

“God, I’ve missed you,” he said wistfully. “What are you doing here? Visiting your mom?”

This was it. Insecurity riddled what was left of her bravado. She was divorced, living with her mother and…God Almighty…still in love with Zach Ashton.

“No,” she admitted, the word seeming to ring out in the otherwise silence that surrounded them. “I’m living here again. I’m on staff at Cartersville General.”

He looked stunned.

She felt humiliated.

“I thought you were—”

She shook her head, cutting him off before he could utter the M-word. “Not anymore.” Apparently their two mothers had kept their word about not mentioning Beth’s marital woes.

Zach took her left hand in his and stared at her bare ring finger. He frowned. “I’m…” his concerned gaze reconnected with hers “…sorry.”

Beth manufactured a smile. “I’m not.” She stepped out of his hold. “Your mother’s inside. I’m sure she can’t wait to see you.”

He nodded distractedly. “Yeah.” He hitched a thumb toward his car. “I should get my bags.”

Beth blinked. “Bags?”

That devilish grin that had charmed every female in this county as well as the next spread across his devastatingly handsome face. “Didn’t she tell you? I’m taking a little time off. I’ll be here for two weeks. That’s why I drove instead of taking a flight.”

Two weeks?

Beth couldn’t take two weeks of having him right next door. The past was bound to come up. He’d want to talk. She’d want to…she slammed the door on that notion.

“I thought maybe I could help with the birthday organizing,” he added when she didn’t respond.

“That’d…be great,” she forced out. “Just great.”

He started to back away, those amazing blue eyes never leaving hers. “Let’s have dinner or something,” he suggested in that sexy, utterly male way that came as naturally as breathing to him.

“Sure,” she lied.

Dinner was out of the question. She couldn’t have dinner with him. She couldn’t have anything with him. What was she thinking? Blast it all, it was like she was a teenager again and unable to think properly in his presence.

He was halfway to his car before he finally turned his back to her, but before he did, he shook his head and exhaled a big breath of genuine masculine approval. “You look…terrific. It’s really good to see you.”

Beth managed to keep her smile in place until he’d turned around. Then it collapsed into a ground-dragging frown. Only then, with his mesmerizing attention focused elsewhere, did her heart stumble back into an acceptable rhythm.

She was doomed.

Doomed to replay her tortured teenage years when she’d lived and breathed Zach Ashton.

Whatever it took, she had to get her mother and Mrs. Ashton back on speaking terms. Living next door to Zach for two whole weeks would be bad enough. No way was she going to organize an event the size of this birthday celebration with him. That would mean hours of going over decorations, music, menu selections and sending out invitations—which was only a formality anyway since folks around here planned their Septembers around Mrs. Ashton’s birthday.

Beth sprinted the rest of the way to the cottage. All she had to do was find out what had started it. Then she could prod the two old friends into making up. They’d been friends an eternity without the first ripple.

How hard could it be to straighten out this little misunderstanding?

SHE WAS HERE.

And she was even more beautiful than ever. To top it off, she was not only all grown-up, she was available. Zach took a long, deep breath and forced his thoughts away from Beth. He never could think straight around her.

Determined to get past the shock of seeing her, he made his grand entrance into the house only to find that his mother was sleeping. Betty, the housekeeper, said that Mrs. Ashton had retired for a brief nap before the arrival of her son.

Deciding his mother needed the rest and that he could get settled in the meanwhile, Zach lugged his bags up the stairs. He deposited them into his old room and then eased quietly to his mother’s door at the other end of the hall. He smiled as he watched her sleep for a moment. Even at seventy-five she was a lovely woman. He inhaled the scent of White Shoulders and surveyed the familiar room. It looked just as it had when he’d been a child. Elegant and luxurious. His mother’s taste was impeccable. And beneath that pretentious appearance beat a tremendously caring heart. The whole town loved and respected her. She was the best mom a guy could ask for.