Link stirred. “You agree that our case would be stronger if we were married.”
“I can’t advise you to marry in an effort to deceive the court.” Chet said the words as if he walked on eggshells. “On the other hand, if you marry because you’re fond of each other and because you want to provide security for a child you both love, I think that could tip the scales in your favor.”
Link glanced at her, his dark eyes seeming to say he’d told her so.
Well, he couldn’t blame her for exploring every possibility, could he? Knowing Link, he probably could. He’d never had much patience with her passion for details.
“Also, there’s the fact that Ms. Gideon is living in the Conrad house, already taking care of the child,” the attorney went on. “I hate to bring up the old saw about possession, but it does make the judge less likely to order a change that could be upsetting to the baby.”
Link’s jaw tightened. “I suspect that was what Frank had in mind yesterday. If he’d gotten his hands on Marcy—”
Annie suppressed the shudder that moved through her. In those frightening moments, when she’d actually feared the Lesters would snatch Marcy from her arms, she’d turned to Link.
She needed help. Hard though it was to accept, she couldn’t do this alone.
“Either way, the best thing is to set up a hearing before the judge as quickly as possible, before the Lesters take any other action.” The attorney stood, looking at them with concern in his face. “I’ll leave you alone to discuss it for a few minutes.”
He crossed the room, his footsteps making little sound on the plush carpet. The door closed softly behind him.
She had to stop collecting options and make a decision. However much she might have resented it in the past, she knew that Link’s loyalty had always been to Davis. If that loyalty extended to his daughter, maybe that was all she could ask.
“It’s not easy, is it.”
She met Link’s gaze, startled, to find that he was looking at her with sympathy.
“No.” She tried to swallow the lump that refused to leave her throat in spite of the fact that she’d cried every tear she had to shed in the past few days. “I spent most of the night praying about it. Maybe this is the only answer, but how can I take vows I don’t mean?”
Link’s hand tightened to a fist on the polished mahogany arm of the chair. “Don’t you think I have qualms about that?”
“I didn’t know it mattered to you.” She had assumed, when he’d stood next to her as godparents to the baby, that he believed, but she hadn’t probed deeper than that.
“It does.” He clipped the words off, his face grim. “You’re not the only person to struggle with this, Annie.”
She tried to smile. “Are you getting any answers?”
“I don’t pretend to be a great theologian—”
He leaned toward her, and she felt the intensity of his belief reaching out to her.
“—but I am sure it would be a greater wrong to let that baby go to people who don’t care about her than to marry for reasons other than love.”
His words shot straight to her heart. She’d never expected to find the kind of all-consuming love Becca and Davis had. If marrying Link saved their baby, perhaps that was reason enough.
“If…if we do this, how long would our marriage have to last?”
Link frowned. “I don’t know. But I’m not involved with anyone else, so I’m in no hurry. And from what Becca has said about you, I’m assuming you’re not in a relationship right now, either.”
The thought of Becca discussing her love life with Link left a bad taste in her mouth. Had her sister thought her an object of pity because she didn’t have a husband and child?
“That’s not really the point.” She kept her voice cool. “I do have a life elsewhere.”
“Once the judge grants custody to us, I don’t see any reason why you couldn’t go ahead with your plans to take Marcy back to Boston. After all, your parents are there and it would be logical for you to want to be near them. I’ll stay here to manage the company. After a reasonable period of time, one of us can file for divorce.”
The image of her cozy apartment in Boston floated in front of Annie’s eyes, a haven from the uncertainty and grief of the past days. She could take care of Marcy there without the constant reminders of her loss.
Marcy threw her black-and-white block, and it bounced harmlessly against the side of the desk. “Down,” she announced, wiggling her way off Annie’s lap.
“Where are you going, little girl?” Link caught her before she could grab the cord and pull the telephone to the floor. “Here, have a look at this.” He handed her his key ring, and Marcy gave him an enchanting smile.
“She has Davis’s smile, you know that?” He touched the baby’s cheek lightly.
Annie glimpsed a sheen of tears in his dark eyes, and the sight disarmed her. It seemed to tear down some of the barricades she held against him.
“Yes, she does,” she said softly.
Link cleared his throat, as if he felt the same tightness she did. “Davis was my best friend. I owe it to him to take care of his child. I don’t know anything about changing diapers, but I’ll do my best to run the company properly and preserve her inheritance. I can’t offer more than that.”
Oddly enough, that glimpse of his grief was reassuring. His concern might be primarily for the company, but it was for the baby’s sake as well as his own.
Link looked at her, his eyebrows lifting in the question he’d been asking all along. “Well, Annie?”
For Marcy, she told herself. For Marcy.
“All right.” She had to force the words out. “I’ll marry you.”
It was his wedding day, and he was on his way to meet his bride. Link grimaced at his reflection in the rearview mirror. The three days they’d had to wait once they applied for the license had been an eternity. He’d been constantly on edge, sure something would go wrong—that Annie would back out, that Frank would launch some unexpected offense, anything.
So far, so good. The wedding was today, and the hearing before Judge Carstairs set for tomorrow. Chet seemed as optimistic as an attorney could be. With any luck, this time the next day they’d be safe.
And then? For a moment he couldn’t see beyond the immediate goal. He shook his head. It was very simple. Annie would return to Boston with the baby, and he’d go back to running the company.
He drew up in front of the church and sat for a moment, staring out at the square. The gazebo glinted white through the surrounding trees. The maples, just beginning to change color, advertised the turning of the season. Tragedy happened, but life moved on.
Right now, moving on meant going through with this wedding. He and Annie had an agreement, just like any other business contract. As long as they kept the situation strictly business, no one would get hurt.
He glanced at the florist’s box lying on the passenger seat and jeered at himself. He was breaking his own rules. He hadn’t intended to do that but he’d found himself walking into the florist’s. No matter what had prompted their wedding, a bride should have flowers.
An orchid hadn’t seemed quite right for Annie, and the chrysanthemums the shop had in stock for the high school homecoming were out of the question. He’d settled for a small arrangement of yellow rosebuds, and their delicate aroma