The Stolen Bride

“Stay out of this,” her brother warned.

“Why? What’s it to you?”

“Let’s save the family quarrel for later, okay?” Chet was too intent on his goal to let the conversation get off course. “We’ve been going together for a long time, Erin. I could tell when I proposed that you intended to accept. I just simplified matters at the hospital because you needed someone to take care of you. What’s wrong with that?”

Thank goodness he’d backed away from making threats. At the same time, she marveled at how skillfully he twisted the facts. “I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you,” Erin said. “But it’s useless to argue.”

“You’re going to run off and leave your mother to handle the fallout?” Chet pressed. “Do you have any idea how upset she’s going to be?”

His renewed attempt to corner her annoyed Erin. “I think I know my mother better than you do.”

“Is that why you’ve been asking me to run interference with her this past six months?” It wasn’t a question but a challenge. “You don’t have the first notion what Alice is going through.”

Angered flipped a switch. Andrew Marshall would never have allowed an employee, even a CEO, to address him in this condescending manner. “I’ve been dealing with my mother since long before you came to work for us.” Erin heard her father’s commanding inflection in her voice. “I can handle her without your help, thank you.”

Chet flinched. It was all the encouragement she needed. “Let’s go,” she said, and caught Joseph’s arm.

She did indeed owe Alice an apology. If that meant she had to endure a tongue-lashing, it couldn’t be any worse than facing up to Chet had been.

Adrenaline carried her along the carpeted hallway and outside into the October afternoon and down a walkway toward the guest wing, where her mother had taken a suite for the day. The hacienda-style country club, built sixteen years ago by the Marshall Company, opened onto a landscaped courtyard.

Ordinarily, Erin relished its lush vegetation. Today, she was in no mood to admire the flowers.

Joseph slanted her an admiring grin. “I love the way you pulled rank on him.”

“Is that what I did?” She would have found the notion amusing, except that Chet’s warning still rang in her ears. What I don’t understand is how you think you’re going to get away with this. What exactly had he meant?

“He jumped as if someone yanked the carpet out from under him,” Joseph said. “I think you missed your true vocation. You should have been a drill sergeant.”

The darkness inside Erin dissipated. “He scared me. I couldn’t have done it without you standing there.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself.” The autumn breeze ruffled his light brown hair, which always seems to stick up no matter how short he trimmed it.

“Do you think he was right?” she asked.

“About what?”

“I have been out of the hospital for a month,” she said. “No one forced me to do anything. I could have called it off. I don’t honestly know why I didn’t.”

“The Tustin report mentioned amnesia and post-traumatic stress disorder,” Joseph said.

“That’s what my doctor said,” Erin agreed.

“Mind telling me your symptoms?”

“I’ve had nightmares, and I haven’t been able to think straight. Sometimes the people around me seemed like strangers, even my mother. When it came to Chet, I drew a blank, but I figured that was temporary. Why didn’t I recognize that I don’t love him? It seems so obvious now.”

“Trauma victims often feel detached from their emotions,” Joseph told her. “Does that fit what you’re talking about?”

She nodded. “I didn’t really come alive until today. But I’m not sure that’s an excuse.”

“You’ve always doubted yourself,” Joseph said. “In high school, even when you knew your parents were trying to micromanage your life, you needed reassurance before you would trust your instincts. Between the trauma and your lack of confidence, Chet played you like a violin.”

“You think he did it on purpose?” He’d made a convincing case about believing he was following her wishes.

“He’s as ruthless as they come,” Joseph said. “If you want my opinion, the man’s capable of anything. Of course, I’m not the world’s biggest fan of politicians.”

“He seemed convinced I mistreated him.”

“He may really believe it. In his view, anyone who doesn’t give him his way is mistreating him.”

“That’s true!” She’d forgotten what a great sounding board Joseph made. “You have a gift for putting things in perspective.”

“And you have a gift for being so sweet-natured, you give the world your heart on a platter,” Joseph said. “The problem is, the world’s a tough place, Erin.”

“I don’t want to be tough,” she said.

“And I don’t want you to be.” His voice grew gentle. “But you may have to, for your own protection.”

Stumbling on the rough walkway in her satin slippers, she brushed against him. The contact sent sparkles shimmering through across her skin and Erin registered that she’d been right about one thing. She did remember how he smelled: like a woodland in a spring rain.

He righted her, but otherwise kept his hands to himself. There were none of the casual caresses that had come so naturally when they were younger.

She knew better than to expect a return to their old closeness. Joseph had done more than enough for her already.

When they reached her mother’s suite, Erin saw that the curtains were drawn against the afternoon brightness. Alice had to be feeling ill again, she thought worriedly.

This news was going to be hard to break. Her mom had always been a formidable figure, able to intimidate Erin with a mere lift of the eyebrow. Only since her father’s death had it become apparent that beneath the resolute exterior hid an uncertain sense of self.

Even so, Erin figured she was in for a rough time.

At her knock, the door cracked open and Brandy Schorr, her mother’s housekeeper, peered out. Despite her smooth bun and trim blouse and skirt, the pouches beneath Brandy’s eyes gave her a dissipated air. “Is the ceremony starting, Miss? I’ll send her right out.”

“No, thank you. I need to talk to my mother,” Erin said.

Brandy spotted Joseph. She didn’t even try to disguise her antipathy. “What’s he doing here?”

“I’m assisting Miss Marshall,” he said. “At her request.”

The housekeeper chewed her lip before responding. “Mr. Bolding told me your investigation was finished. He said he doesn’t want you near Mrs. Bolding.”

“He isn’t here about her accident. He’s with me.” Erin pushed the door wider, ignoring Brandy’s half-hearted protest. Although she’d found the housekeeper pleasant during the past month, she had no particular ties to the woman, who’d only worked for the Boldings for a few months. Apparently, Lance had driven away the previous one.

“I can’t let you…” Brandy let the sentence trail off as Erin quelled her with a glare worthy of Andrew Marshall.

“Mom?” she called into the interior. Despite the brightness of the day, the front room lay in darkness save for one small lamp beside the couch. “I need to talk to you.”

“What is it?” The familiar rasp of her mother’s voice rang out as Alice materialized from the shadows. “Is something wrong?”