Practically Married Read online

  Ashley gasped, leaning closer to the windshield. “Is this your farm?”

  “The western fields are, but the rest belong to our neighbors.” Russ backed the truck up until the bed and cab leveled out, then he killed the engine. “Let’s go.”

  “Won’t you need a jacket?” Ashley asked as she zipped her coat.

  He reached behind the seat and grabbed his Carhartt and an old blanket. “I rarely leave home without them.”

  “Even in July?”

  He couldn’t stop his smile. “Fifty-degree nights can happen.” Her eyes widened, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, she opened her door and stepped out.

  Following her lead, he climbed out. The air wasn’t yet cold, but he knew how the chill could eat at one’s skin. He slid into his coat, preferring to maintain warmth rather than trying to create it. As Ashley stared into the distance, Russ reached into the truck bed’s toolbox for his seat cushions. When he unlatched the tailgate, she turned around. Her eyebrows popped up.

  “What?” he asked.

  “You seem very … prepared.”

  “I am. For unplanned fishing trips or visits from the nephews.” Russ tossed the cushions on the cold metal tailgate, resenting the need to defend himself. He dropped the blanket next to the cushions. “It’s northern Michigan. Even in the summer, the weather’s unpredictable.”

  Pink colored her cheeks, and he instantly regretted his tone. He’d brought her out there for comfort, not chastisement. Adjusting a cushion, Russ sat to one side on the tailgate and turned his attention to the view. Ashley took her time shuffling over, stopping at the other side. Without looking at her, he nudged the other cushion toward her.

  She hopped onto the tailgate, barely rocking the truck. “How did you find this place?”

  “I don’t remember exactly. It was sometime in high school. I was probably out exploring.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “I know.”

  She shifted and shimmied beside him, bouncing the entire truck. When she finally stopped moving, she sighed. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

  “You sounded like you needed to get out.”

  “Thanks for noticing.” A few minutes later she started kicking her feet, once again rocking the truck. When she started blowing on her fingers, Russ smiled, reaching into his pockets for his gloves. He handed them to her.

  She hesitated but took them. “Is there anything you don’t carry with you?”

  “Not when it comes to staying warm.”

  “Do you usually come out here when it’s this cold?”

  Pain clenched at his heart. “I haven’t been up here for a few years … since my dad died.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’ve had time to get over it.”

  “You never get over it.”

  He looked directly at her. “You lost your dad?”

  She met his gaze. “And mom. Seventeen years ago.” A half smile tugged at her lips. “The pain never really goes away, but you adapt.”

  Seventeen years without parents? They must have died when she was in high school. Russ couldn’t imagine all of that time without his folks. What would it have been like?

  Ashley groaned, pulling her legs up in front of her. “You’re looking at me like that again.”

  “Like what?”

  “The poor-little-Ashley look. It doesn’t matter how many years pass, people always look at me like that when I tell them my parents died when I was eighteen. That’s one of the things I liked about Tom. He never looked at me that way.”

  “You two met?”

  “No, but we video chatted. He never pitied me. He always treated me like I was everyone else.”

  “How did you two meet anyway?”

  “The internet,” Ashley said as casually as she might tell someone they met at a coffee shop or birthday party. If it didn’t bother her, who was he to judge, but why hadn’t Tom ever mentioned it? “I still can’t believe he never told you.”

  Russ sighed. “He might have. I didn’t always pay attention.”

  “That’s not what he told me.”

  Interesting. Giving her his complete attention, Russ swung his legs up and crossed them in front of him. “What did he say?”

  She turned toward him, copying his posture. “You were best friends and the only boys in the family. He knew everything about you. I assumed you knew as much about him.”

  “I thought I did too.”

  Ashley sank back against the side of the truck. “This whole situation is surreal.” She shook her head, looking down. “I don’t even … I mean, this was arranged, but … why wouldn’t he—”

  “What do you mean arranged?” It wasn’t possible, was it?

  She glanced up, her eyes red. “What?”

  “You said it was arranged. What was arranged?”

  “The, um”—her face flushed—“the engagement.”

  No way! Russ leaned forward. “Did he actually talk you into it?”

  “Talk me into what?”

  He scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to disguise the surprise. “An arranged marriage. Two years ago, his sister got a divorce. We couldn’t believe it. She and her husband seemed so perfect, but she said they didn’t love each other anymore.”

  “And Tom said that didn’t matter.” Ashley’s eyes brightened. “He said it was a commitment, a covenant, that if people could fall in love once, they could fall in love again as long as they honored their promises to each other.”

  Had Tom found a woman who agreed with his beliefs about marriage? “Do you really believe that? Would you marry a stranger because of a commitment?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “I would never marry a complete stranger, but the concept has merit. My mom kept a journal that talked about how happy she was to have married her best friend. The more Tom and I talked, the more I enjoyed it. I wasn’t in love with him, but he was one of my closest friends.

  “One day it hit us. Instead of being best friends who fall in love and get married, like my parents did, we could be best friends who got married, then let love happen.” Ashley didn’t crack a smile or break eye contact. Everything about her demeanor screamed sincerity.

  A bizarre amount of admiration welled up for her. A woman who wasn’t chasing a wedding or prince charming. This woman wanted an honest-to-goodness lifetime commitment. How had Tom gotten so lucky?

  “Do you think I’m crazy?” she asked, crossing her arms. “Because my aunt and uncle weren’t exactly supportive of this.”

  “That’s probably a reasonable reaction.”

  “You too?” She threw her hands in the air as she rolled her eyes. “It’s not like we’re eighteen-year-old kids who just met. We’re adults, and we’re making a practical, intelligent decision. I’m thirty-five years old, and I’m tired of being alone. I want a marriage like my parents had, and Tom and I have a chance at that. Well, we had …” Her face crumpled.

  “I’m not judging you. You didn’t let me finish. I can understand your aunt and uncle’s reaction. It’s a shocking concept for most people. Tom and I talked about it before, but you still surprised me. I just don’t understand—”

  “Why Tom didn’t mention me.” She sagged against the truck.

  No tears, but Russ recognized the grief and pain that tugged at Ashley’s face. She might not love Tom, but she and Russ had both lost their best friend. That he could understand. And maybe he could help. “I don’t know why Tom didn’t tell me about you, but I know Tom. He never meant to hurt anyone, but he never thought much about how his actions affected others. I’m not making excuses for him. That’s the kind of man he was. At least he told you about me. Tom didn’t trust me enough to tell me he was getting married, and he usually told me everything.”

  Ashley nodded, but her posture didn’t change. That wasn’t why he’d brought her to the most beautiful view in Boyne Heights.

  Russ hopped off the truck. He grabbed the edge of her cushion and spun her toward him. “I’m n
ot very good at consoling people. That’s why I brought you here. I don’t have all of the answers, and I’m not sure I want them, but here I can forget about it for a while. I can be quiet and enjoy the orchards, and sometimes that’s the best therapy. Do me a favor and sit here for a minute.”

  Eyes wide, she nodded. Stepping aside, Russ sat beside her and let the view hypnotize him. The midday sun illuminated every visible acre—his family’s history and, he had assumed, his and Tom’s future. Now what?

  “Will you tell me about your farm?” Ashley asked. He glanced at her. Moisture clung to her eyelashes, captivating his attention. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she gazed out over the orchards. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you, but I’ve spent a lot of time alone, so I have a hard time passing up a conversation.”

  “That’s okay. I don’t mind talking about the farm.”

  “Really? Because I don’t want to bother you.”

  His arm brushed hers, and he noticed how close their legs were. Bothering him? Yes. Putting some space between them, Russ looked back at the apple trees. “My great-grandpa bought this farm, and I plan to keep it in the family as long as I can.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Bacon.

  Ashley inhaled the savory scent as she rolled over, pressing her nose into the soft, wet pillow. She rubbed her face, wiping drool off her chin. Sleep clung to her eyelids, but she pried them open.

  Darkness. Who cooked bacon in the dark?

  She searched for her clock. More darkness. What was going on? She pushed herself up and looked in the direction of her nightstand. Reaching for the tabletop, her hand flapped through the air.

  No nightstand.

  Bacon.

  Darkness.

  Tom.

  The past few days rushed back at her. She was at Tom’s house. No, her house. And someone was cooking breakfast in the dark. Ashley’s mouth watered as her brain struggled with the details.

  Swinging her feet over the edge of the bed, she ran her hands across the soft patchwork quilt and down the side of the bed until she located her pile of clothes on the floor. She slipped out of her pajamas, then stuffed her arms and legs into different pieces of clothing, hoping she wouldn’t look like a four-year-old who’d dressed herself. Shuffling around the bed, she made her way to the door, drawn by the sliver of light peeking under the bottom.

  Ashley opened the door to more heavenly aromas. Bacon. Coffee. Butter. They beckoned her toward the light at the bottom of the stairs. The bare floors chilled her feet, but hunger propelled her through the house and into the blinding light of the kitchen.

  As she squinted in the brightness, she spotted Russ by the stove, his eyebrows raised and a flowered apron around his waist. She had to be dreaming. She blinked a few times, but he didn’t move. The apron kept its flowers. Why would he wear that? She should ask, but she needed to wake up first. “Coffee?”

  Russ pointed his spatula at the far counter.

  “Cups?”

  The spatula rose, indicating a distant cupboard.

  Ashley nodded, her bare feet smacking against the floor. She filled a mug, then turned to the island, where Russ had set a bottle of creamer. Considerate. She took the creamer and poured until the coffee turned a familiar tan, then pressed the warm mug against her lips and sipped. Smooth, nutty perfection. She’d never dreamed about coffee this good before. “This is really happening, isn’t it?”

  “What?”

  “The bacon. Coffee. Apron.” Ashley leaned to the left to peek around Russ at the stove clock. “At five a.m. Good Lord, you’re crazy.”

  “No, I’m a farmer. What are you doing up?”

  “Bacon.” Ashley cradled the mug in her hands before making her way to the table. She kicked out a chair and plopped onto it, tucking her feet beneath her to warm them.

  “You got up for bacon?”

  “No, I smelled bacon. That made me hungry. I got up because I’m hungry.” Ashley tried to look at Russ when she spoke, but the stove light assaulted her retinas. She stifled a groan as she crossed her arms on the table and rested her head on them. Her mouth watered, but exhaustion weighed her down. Metal scraped metal as food sizzled and popped around her. A hinge creaked. Muted thuds. Her breath flowed in and out.

  Mom humming. Dad bellowing about the city council as he turned the pages of the newspaper. Ashley sitting at the kitchen table as Mom flipped eggs and buttered toast. Dad hugging them both, growling as he squeezed her until she giggled. Every Sunday, breakfast … with bacon.

  A once-familiar peace settled over her. Ashley hadn’t thought about those breakfasts in years. She might have forgotten them completely until Russ and his apron. She should thank him and drink her coffee and get some bacon. As soon as she could open her eyes. And pick up her head. The kitchen table wasn’t a bad place for a nap.

  Warmth wrapped around her. No, not warmth—arms. Someone picked her up. Ashley forced her eyes open long enough to get a blurry look at Russ. “Is breakfast ready?”

  “You fell asleep.”

  Her head dropped onto his shoulder. “Just resting.”

  “Sure.”

  “Coffee?”

  “You can get it when you wake up.” Russ’ voice rumbled in his chest, soothing her. As quickly as he’d picked her up, he set her down on a velvety bed. She should really get up, talk with Russ about what they were going to do, but a heavy blanket covered her, sealing in the warmth. Every last ounce of resistance melted away as Ashley surrendered to the welcoming pillow.

  “Sleep well.”

  “Mmmmm.”

  *******

  Russ tucked the last edge of the quilt under Ashley’s shoulder as she mumbled. Bunching the quilt in her arms, she rolled away from him, her long hair falling across one of his mother’s stitched pillows.

  “Good morning. What are you up to?”

  “Shhh.” Russ pointed at the couch. “Ashley.”

  His mom stepped beside him and leaned close. “Why is she on the couch?”

  “She said she wanted bacon, then fell asleep at the table.”

  Mom chuckled. “Poor kid. Come on. I’ll eat her bacon.”

  Russ smiled. He hadn’t wanted Mom to stay with him, but the last week had been so quiet that it was nice to have the company. He draped an arm around her shoulders and led her into the kitchen, where two plates full of food sat on the island. “You’re just in time.”

  “Lucky for me she fell asleep. Oh, it looks good.” Mom carried the plates to the table while Russ refilled his coffee mug. As he sat, she took a sip from Ashley’s mug. “Mmm, perfect. I’ll take care of this for her too.”

  “How nice of you.” Russ grabbed his fork and attacked the food, his stomach growling its thanks.

  “Tell me about Ashley.”

  Eggs clogged his throat. He coughed around the food, desperate for air.

  “Oh, honey. Are you okay?”

  He pounded his chest. “Fine. Fine. Do you need me to warm up your coffee?”

  “I’ve barely touched it. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing.” Russ picked up his fork again, but iron fingers clamped around his wrist. He locked eyes with her. Sweet, gentle caregiver when she wanted to be. Steel-jawed alligator the rest of the time.

  “I’m going to ask you about Ashley,” she said. “I’d hate for you to choke again.”

  He sighed. “You know as much as I do. She’s Tom’s friend. Moved here from Ohio. Works as a medical transcriptionist, but she’s an amateur photographer. She starts an internship next year. Most of what I know she told us both at dinner.”

  “But Tom left the house to her? It’s been in the family for generations. I don’t understand how he could do this, or why.”

  Russ took another gigantic bite. How could he explain it when he didn’t understand it himself?

  “I wonder if there’s anything we can do about it.”

  “You heard Rob. We’d have to find the original paperwork, and I have no idea where to look.�
�� She pursed her lips the way she did when he and his sisters didn’t take her advice, so Russ patted her hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it, even if I have to hire someone to help us out.”

  “You take such good care of me.” She squeezed his hand. “Your father would be so proud.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Now about Ashley—”

  “Mom.”

  “Is she single?”

  Russ shoveled eggs into his mouth. The sooner he got away from his matchmaking mother, the better.

  CHAPTER 8

  Ashley stretched her arms over her head, flexing her feet against the soft fabric. Light shone against her eyelids and warmed her face, but she wasn’t ready to get out of bed yet. Pulling the blanket back around her shoulders, she rolled onto … nothing.

  THUMP!

  Ouch.

  “Everything okay in there?”

  Ashley squinted against the sun. Why was she in the living room? She’d been dreaming of Russ and flowers, or had that really happened? Her stomach growled. Why did her mind keep going back to bacon?

  “Good morning.” Kathleen strolled into the room. “Are you okay?”

  Ashley rubbed her palms over her thick eyelids. “It’s so early.”

  “It’s almost nine o’clock.”

  “Ugh. I don’t like mornings.”

  “I’ve noticed.” Cool fingers pulled Ashley’s hands away from her face. When Kathleen smiled, delicate lines framed her dark-brown eyes. “Let me make you breakfast.”

  “Didn’t I eat breakfast?”

  “You tried. Come on. I saved some for you.” Kathleen pulled her up.

  Food first, then coffee. Ashley trudged into the kitchen for the second time that morning. In an hour or two, she might be coherent enough to carry on a conversation. When Kathleen pushed a mug into her hands, she noticed the rich coffee aroma.

  “I put cream in it, just like you had it before.”

  Ashley sipped the perfectly flavored liquid, letting it warm her to the core. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Kathleen practically danced around the kitchen, waving pans and spinning utensils, faster and more efficiently than Rose. “You’re a rare breed around here. We’re so used to waking up early that we sometimes forget there are people who don’t get up with the sun.”