Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
She’d almost gotten herself under control by the time she pulled into the driveway at Hamilton House.
It was just past five o’clock and she knew Beckett would still be in the barn overseeing the evening feeding, so she at least had time to compose herself before he noticed anything was wrong. But when she walked into the house, she was surprised to find company.
“Marnie,” Judy Hamilton said, her face beaming in greeting.
She crossed the kitchen to pull Marnie into a hug.
“I hope you don’t mind us crashing dinner tonight.
Carson and I are leaving for Hawaii tomorrow morning—he finally talked me into getting out of this snow—and I wanted to see you before we left. ”
“Of course I don’t mind,” Marnie said. “You’re always welcome.”
She’d been nervous meeting Beckett’s parents the first time. She’d heard stories about Judy—that she was a real hard charger. People either spoke of her with reverence and awe or pure terror.
But Judy had looked her over once and said, “You look like good people to me.” And then she’d hugged her, and that had been that.
They didn’t see each other often because Beckett’s parents lived an active social life and believed in giving their son his privacy. But Judy had always treated her with a motherly warmth that still surprised her.
“We’re supposed to have another foot of snow by the weekend,” Judy said.
Marnie groaned. “That should make some of my outdoor photo shoots interesting.”
“Are you feeling all right?” Judy laid the back of her hand to Marnie’s cheek. “You look peaked.”
“Just a headache I can’t shake.”
Judy clucked like a mother hen. “Why don’t you go rest a little before the boys get in from the barn? They’ll be another half hour at least.”
“I think I’ll do that, thanks,” she said, glad for the escape.
She retreated to the guest room she used when she stayed over—the same one Beckett had shown her to that first snowy night—and sat on the edge of the bed, trying not to think of Clive and what she’d do when he showed up. And he would show up. He didn’t make empty promises.
She must have dozed for a while because she woke to a soft knock at the door.
“Marnie?” Beckett’s voice came through the wood. “You awake?”
“Come in.”
He opened the door, freshly showered and dressed in clean jeans and a blue flannel shirt that made his eyes look almost silver. His hair was still damp at the ends.
“Mom said you weren’t feeling good.” He crossed the room and sat beside her on the bed, taking her hand in his. “You were out cold when I peeked in earlier. Didn’t want to wake you.”
“Just a headache. I feel better now.”
He studied her face, and she knew he could see right through her. She’d never been good at hiding things from him.
“You don’t have to come down for dinner,” he said. “They’ll understand if you’re not well.”
“I’m fine. And I’d like to spend time with your parents before they leave.”
He smiled but his eyes stayed worried. “You would’ve seen them New Year’s Eve at the party they threw, but someone insisted we stay in and play Scrabble instead.”
“I won fair and square. You’re just a sore loser.”
“You used ‘qi’ on a triple word score. That should be illegal.”
She tried to smile, but was afraid she was failing miserably. She held out her hand instead. “Ready to go down?”
He looked at her strangely but nodded and took her hand.
They’d made it to the landing overlooking the living area below when he stopped her, turning her to face him. Laughter drifted up from the kitchen.
“Marnie, wait. I need to tell you something.”
She looked at him and knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth.
It slammed into her—the vision, the certainty—and she almost stumbled under the intensity.
And after the phone call from Clive, she couldn’t bear to hear the words.
Because she knew he was only going to be hurt.
Clive would find a way to ruin this, to ruin her, and Beckett would be collateral damage.
He opened his mouth to speak, and she kissed him.
It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was desperate and needy, born of fear rather than passion. She poured everything into it—all her terror about Clive, all her hope that somehow this could still work out.
He responded instantly, his arms coming around her. But after a moment, he gentled the kiss, slowing it down until it was soft and sweet. Then he pulled back, keeping his hands on her shoulders.
“What’s going on?” His voice was quiet but firm.
“Nothing. I just—”
“Don’t.” He cupped her face in his hands. “Don’t hide from me. Something’s wrong. I’ve seen it since you walked in the door.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t want to ruin this.”
“You couldn’t ruin this if you tried.” He brushed a tear from her cheek. “Whatever it is, we face it together. That’s what we agreed to.”
“Beckett…” Her voice broke.
“I love you.” He said it simply, like stating a fact. “I’ve loved you since I was nineteen years old. Nothing you tell me is going to change that.”
The tears fell freely now. “I don’t deserve you.”
“That’s not for you to decide.” He pulled her into his arms and held her while she cried against his chest. “Now tell me what’s going on.”
So she did.
She told him about the phone call from Clive. About his threats to come collect her, to enforce the fraudulent contract, to drag her back to Savannah. She told him about the fear that had gripped her—not fear of Clive himself, but fear of what his presence might do to the life she’d built here.
He listened without interrupting, his jaw tightening with every word. When she finished, he was quiet for a long moment.
“Why didn’t you tell me right away?”
“I was ashamed.” She couldn’t meet his eyes. “I let him control me for two years. I signed things without reading them. I was so desperate to feel successful, to feel wanted, that I let a man like that into my life. What does that say about me?”
“It says you’re human. It says you were young and trusting and someone took advantage of that. That’s on him, Marnie. Not you.”
“I should have been smarter.”
“And I should have found you years ago instead of pining away on this ranch.” He smiled slightly. “We can’t change the past. We can only deal with what’s in front of us. And what’s in front of us is a coward who thinks he can waltz into town and take what’s mine.”
“Yours?”
“You’re going to be my wife. That makes you mine to protect. And Clive Wallace is about to find out what happens when you threaten a Hamilton’s family.”
“Beckett, he’s powerful. He has connections, lawyers, judges who owe him favors—”
“And I have an uncle who happens to be the governor.” His smile turned sharp. “Clive isn’t the only one with friends in high places.”
She stared at him. “The governor?”
“Uncle Jack. My mother’s brother. He’s been bugging me for years to bring someone special to Sunday dinner.” His eyes softened. “I was waiting for you.”
She reached up and touched his face. “I should have told you sooner. I was just so scared—”
He kissed her again, soft and slow. “You can tell me anything. Always.”
“I know that now.”
He pressed his forehead to hers. “Now let’s go have dinner. And tomorrow, we’ll figure out how to deal with this.”
“Together?”
“Together.” He squeezed her hand. “That’s how it works now.”
They walked down the stairs hand in hand, and Marnie thought that maybe—just maybe—everything was going to be all right.