The Marriage Contract

Silence lay between them. Why pretend she felt any differently? “If I said yes,” she ventured, “I’d want our agreement in writing.”

“Wilford Thomas is my attorney. You won’t want me to suggest someone for you, but I believe you know Judge Franklin?”

“I’m staying with him and Selina.”

“He’ll suggest someone you can trust.”

Clair hugged herself more tightly. “How did you choose me?”

“I have to marry someone. No one else wants something I have as badly as you do.”

Clair thought of the Dylan mansion, the stables, the pools and tennis courts. The offshore bank accounts. “Use your imagination.”

He had a way of smiling that made him seem as if he saw his own failings. Clair looked away from him.

“I need to think,” she said. “I never expected a chance to take my home back.”

“I’m trying as hard as I can to give you a chance.”

He broke off as another man stepped out of the darkness into the light from the windows on the sidewalk. Clair couldn’t place his rugged, weather-lined features. He stared from the pediment over the door to the interior of the shop. Nodding at them both, he opened the door and came inside, looking at them with a curious frown.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“What do you mean, Fosdyke?” Nick eyed the other man with surprise.

“I saw the lights go off and on. Thought you might be having a problem over here.” He studied Clair. “I know you.”

Nick moved closer to her. “I forgot you might not recognize each other. Ernest Fosdyke, this is Clair Atherton.”

“I knew your mother,” he said. “I’m the fire chief. You certainly look like Sylvie.”

“Thank you.” She didn’t want to talk about her mom in front of Nick.

“I heard you were working for Paul Sayers.”

She used her job to head off gossip about Nick’s visit. “Dr. Dylan and I were discussing some work on his house.”

“No problems, then? You know these old buildings and their electricity. I guess I’ll move on. I was on my way home. Night, Clair. Nice to see you back in town.”

“I’m glad to be home.”

“Good night, Dr. Dylan.”

Clair glanced at Nick. Ernest Fosdyke had all but made a subservient bow.

“Wait, Ernest. I’ll come with you. I want to talk to you about the clinic in Staunton.” Nick opened the door, but looked back at Clair. “I can’t wait long. I need a decision.”

Clair lifted her hand in answer to Fosdyke’s brief wave, and both men disappeared.

She shivered. What better revenge could she ever hope to take against Jeff Dylan? It was just that she’d decided before she came back home not to look for revenge. No one like the senator would ever take advantage of her again, but she didn’t intend to let anger turn her into a version of him.

She’d like to understand Nick before she thought about his idea. Marriage, an idea? A plan? Why didn’t he contest the will? She’d have dragged a worthless piece of paper like that through the legal system front-ward, backward and sideways.

Just went to show how different people could be. She fought back when someone tried to hurt her. Nick Dylan was willing to contort himself into a knot to come up with a compromise.

She laughed shortly. If she was willing to seriously consider his proposal, they weren’t so different after all.

LEOTA WAS CRYING. Nick heard her that night as he climbed the stairs to his bedroom. He followed the sound to the hall outside his father’s door. He’d tended to see his mother as the softer-hearted of his parents, but he’d never heard her cry.

He knocked, but he knew she wouldn’t ask him in, so he opened the door. Leota sprang up from his father’s bed. Gold and silver bracelets jangled on her wrist as she brushed her smooth blond hair from her face. Lying down had wrinkled her silk blouse and dark green trousers.

Baffled, Nick met her wild gaze. “Are you all right? Can I help you?”

“Are you here this time as my son or as a doctor?”

“Why not both? I’m concerned about you.”

“I don’t need a keeper. If you don’t like seeing me this way, go back to your house.”

“And leave you alone? Even if I weren’t your son, I couldn’t.”

“I don’t need your interference. I need time.”

“You’re suffering from pretty severe mood swings.”

“My husband has been dead for a month.”

“But you won’t talk about your feelings, and you aren’t in control of them. At least trust me. Talk to me.”

“How can I talk to you when you’ve always pushed us away?”

“I’ve pushed you?” She and Jeff had sent him to boarding school when he was eight. They’d disapproved of every major decision he’d ever made. Discussion had led to recrimination and finally, to silence. He rejected his own thoughts. Now wasn’t the time to air his grievances. Whether or not she would admit it, Leota needed help. At least he could offer a watchful eye. “I’m not pushing,” he said. “I’m asking you to put the past behind us and trust me to help you.”

“You think getting me to see a therapist will help,” she said sarcastically. “I need you to do what your father wanted. If you don’t get married, we’ll lose everything that matters to me.”

Nick hesitated. His marrying Clair would drive her crazy, but at least he’d decided to comply with the will. “You’re right. I have to get married, but you’ll have to trust me to choose the right woman.”

Leota wiped her eyes. “Thank God. Who are you thinking of? Someone I know?”

“You can’t choose a wife for me.” His parents’ choices had been part of his reasons for avoiding marriage so far.

He didn’t want to hurt his mother, but he couldn’t settle for one of the women she and Jeff had paraded past him since college, all beautiful, with bloodlines Jeff approved of. Prepared to love him for his name and the wealth he’d inherit. Clair suited him better.

“I’ve met someone.” Taking Leota’s arm, he led her toward the door. He turned off the light as they went into the hall. “I’ll introduce you to her before I make a decision.”

“You have to look at the rest of her family, too, if you want your marriage to last. What kind of people are they?”

Distaste chipped at Nick’s patience. Had she always been this way, or was she taking Jeff’s stand? “You don’t have to worry yet. Will you let me make an appointment for you with the therapist I told you about?”