The Prodigal Bride. Beth Cornelison
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reputation and give your baby a n—”
“Actually, sir,” Gage interrupted, his voice firm. “I married Zoey for the reasons I gave earlier. I care for Zoey and always have. I wanted to marry her.”
Zoey’s heart pattered with a bittersweet ache. Her hero. Rescuing her from her father’s condemnation. He really was putting on quite a good show for her parents’ sake. She studied the firm set of his mouth and marveled again at the changes in him, the rugged appeal of his square jaw and harsh cheekbones.
“And you don’t have a problem with raising another man’s baby?” Her father seemed shocked, suspicious. “Do you have any idea how much a baby costs? You understand she has no savings anymore. The burden of paying for this baby will fall to you, son.”
“My friendship with Zoey has never had anything to do with money, how much she had or didn’t have. And I’m sure I will love her baby as if it were my own. Just like Zoey will care for my niece with genuine affection.”
Appreciation for Gage’s defense of her warmed Zoey’s heart, but guilt sliced through her in its wake. This was her mess. She couldn’t let Gage fall on the sword for her. She had to stand up to her father’s chastisement, take the blame for her mistakes and take responsibility for turning her life around. Starting with facing the truth and not hiding behind a sham marriage.
“Your niece?” Her father cocked his eyebrow in his do-tell way again.
Enough. She stepped forward, squaring her shoulders as she faced her father. “Okay, yes. The baby is Derek’s. I realize that I’ve let you down.” Her voice cracked, and she slapped a hand to her chest. “I’ve let me down. I have no reason to expect you to be happy about my circumstances, but Gage was willing to sacrifice everything to help me.” She raised her chin and leveled a steady gaze on her father. “So don’t judge Gage or his choices. He’s doing this all for me, and I love him for it.”
She felt Gage stiffen beside her, sensed more than saw the startled glance he shot toward her. “And yes, our marriage is more of a business arrangement than a love match.” She heard Gage sigh, saw her mother deflate, recognized the resignation in her father’s face. Pain plucked at her, knowing how she’d failed her parents and what her mistakes had cost Gage. Clearing the clog of emotion from her throat, she explained the symbiotic arrangement she and Gage had agreed upon. “When the time comes, we’ve agreed to a quiet … divorce.” A vise squeezed her chest so tightly that she could barely rasp the last word.
A heavy silence fell over the room, and tears stung her sinuses. Maybe coming back to Lagniappe had been a mistake. Maybe her parents would have been better off if she’d stayed away, let them think she was still happily living the life of a gypsy with her poker-playing boyfriend. Maybe accepting Gage’s proposal had been another selfish mistake that would come back to haunt her and break his heart. Even the thought of hurting him made her lungs ache until she couldn’t breathe.
She flipped her hair over her shoulder and stood taller. Too late for second-guessing. All she could do now was plow forward and do everything in her power to avoid making things worse or hurting anyone she loved any further with additional screwups.
“I’m sorry.” She heard the tremble in her voice and cleared her throat before she continued. “I know that’s not what you wanted to hear, but you deserved the truth.”
Gage pressed his mouth in a hard line of disappointment.
She tipped her head and mouthed, “What?”
He shook his head and turned his attention to the window.
“Zoey—” Her father scratched his cheek and sighed his frustration. “Marriage is not something to be taken lightly. It’s not supposed to be a business arrangement.”
“Sure it is,” she countered. “For centuries marriages were arranged for political, business and social reasons. The concept of marriage as a love match is really a rather modern concept.”
Her father grunted. “Why do you have to be so argumentative? So exasperating?”
Ellen leaned forward, jumping into the fray. “Maybe, given some time, you’ll decide that you want to stay married to Gage.” Her mother paused and divided a look between Zoey and Gage. “Maybe living together as husband and wife, you two will fall in love. You know, the best marriages are based on friendship.”
The note of forced cheer and optimism in her mother’s voice stirred a bittersweet longing inside Zoey. But she couldn’t dwell on longings and selfish wants anymore. She’d been chasing her dreams for years, leaving a trail of disappointment and heartache in her path. Time to sacrifice what she wanted to make sure no one else got hurt.
Her father took a deep breath and gave the two of them a thoughtful look. “Zoey, my father always told me that life is ten percent what happens to you and ninety percent how you respond to what happens. I hope you gave this decision careful consideration.”
She swallowed hard. Did thirty minutes as they found a wedding chapel count as careful consideration? Somehow she doubted her father would think so.
Gage slid a hand to the small of her back and nudged her toward the door. “If you’re ready, Zee, my niece has been with the babysitter for four days. We need to get home and relieve the poor gal from Pet patrol.”
Zoey’s mother rose and gave her a tight hug. “We’ll talk soon, okay? With a baby coming, there is so much to plan! Have you told your sisters about your marriage and the baby?”
Zoey’s spirits lifted. Holly and Paige. Next to Gage, her sisters were her best friends. But how would they react to her news?
“Not yet. We wanted you to be the first to know.” And she’d known if she told her sisters, her parents might have found out before she could break the news.
As they made their way to the front door, she promised to be in touch with her mother before the end of the week, shared a wisecrack with Gage about the meter running on the babysitter and monitored her father’s brooding silence.
Make the first move, her conscience nudged her while the stubborn brat in her balked.
Gage opened the front door and stood aside for her to exit first. She took a step toward the porch, then hesitated when guilt kicked her in the shin.
“Dad—”
“Zoey—” he said at the same time, and they chuckled awkwardly.
She rushed over to her father and threw her arms around his neck, like she had every night as a child when he’d walk through the door at the end of a long business day.
“I love you, Baby Bear,” he murmured as he squeezed her to his chest.
The moniker took her back twenty years to nights when her favorite bedtime event was acting out Goldilocks with her father and sisters. Blonde Holly was Goldilocks, and Paige was Mama Bear, but the most dramatic and heartfelt performance each night belonged to Zoey.
Tears puddled in her eyes and, from a throat tight with emotion, she squeaked, “I love you, too, Papa Bear.”
Gage glanced across the front seat at Zoey, who was chewing a fingernail with a vengeance. “Haven’t kicked that bad habit yet, eh, Zee?”
She paused and stared at her finger as if she hadn’t realized what she was doing until he called it to her attention. With an annoyed twist of her lips, she sat on her hands and pressed her lips into a taut line.
He tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel. “So … that went pretty well, doncha think?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Were you not in the same room with us? They hate me now.”
Gage nodded. “Oh … so that’s what ‘I love you, Baby Bear’ means. It was code for ‘I hate my daughter.’ I was wondering about that.” Remembering the lingering hug the father and daughter had shared stirred a familiar longing in Gage. He’d always