CHAPTER TWO

      RIDICULOUS. COMPLETELY RIDICULOUS.

      Mal shook off the warm, caramel-y feeling that tried to melt the icy guard she’d placed around her heart. Travis hadn’t missed her. Not really. No matter what he or Owen or anyone said.

      She splashed some cold water on the back of her neck and stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. She looked tired. She was tired. But this was Owen and Grace’s wedding and there was no time for a pity party of any sort.

      She splashed a little more water. Her eyes tracked her hands, noticed the bareness of her fingers and not just because she was the only Ford child currently without a ring of commitment, but because seeing Travis reminded her that, not so long ago, she’d been the only one to have that symbol of a relationship.

      Her stomach jittered and she pressed a hand to it, trying to take some slow deep breaths as she’d learned in Pilates. But the bliss of Zen never came. Maybe because Zen was more of a yoga thing.

      Mal’s eyes strayed to her bare finger again. She should have brought the ring with her. She’d known Travis would be in attendance. She should have placed it in her luggage, transported it here in her purse and then taken a quiet moment alone with Travis to return it to him.

      The ring was his grandma’s. A pretty, square-cut sapphire surrounded by diamond chips. Mal had been so thrilled when he’d given it to her. It hadn’t been an engagement ring, not in the traditional sense, as they’d been too busy putting all their time and money, all their energy into the beachfront bistro in Aruba. But they’d talked about having a wedding once they were settled. Flying in their families and getting married with their toes in the sand and a starry moonlit night overhead, an ocean breeze blowing through the palm trees.

      A ghost of a smile crossed Mal’s lips before disappearing, much the way her dreams had. She needed to return the ring. Not just to Travis but to Mildred. It had been wrong of her to keep it as long as she had, sitting in her jewelry box so she looked at it every morning when she chose her accoutrements for the day.

      She dried the water from her neck, pressed cold fingers under her eyes and, after a few deep breaths and a good roll of the shoulders, decided to head back out. She couldn’t stay in the house forever. It might not be her wedding, but people would be looking for her. And it would be good to have something else to focus on, such as small talk and chatter about the family business—a string of wine bars, one fine dining restaurant and their recent expansion into the gastropub market with a single location. She would also be happy to talk about the charity event she was organizing to raise money for local food banks.

      Mal made her way through the lovely farmhouse and out the door to the backyard. The party, though small, was still going strong. She glanced around for a group to join. She didn’t care which one, so long as it didn’t include Travis or her brother.

      “Mallory.” Her mother, Evelyn, swooped in like some kind of avenging angel or mother of the groom, as she was, and wrapped her in a tight hug. “I’ve barely seen you tonight.”

      “You saw me before the ceremony and sat with me during the ceremony. I’ve been around.” When she hadn’t been doing her best to avoid a certain someone. But really, aside from her quick chat with Owen and Grace around the side of the house and her short break to cool her nerves, she’d been in the backyard with everyone else. She’d tasted the food. She’d toasted with champagne. She’d mingled.

      “You look tired.” Her mother zeroed in with the laser focus that she had for all her kids and brushed back a lock of Mal’s hair. “Are you getting enough sleep?”

      “I’m fine, Mom, and I’m getting plenty of sleep.” And on those nights when she wasn’t, she worked, so it wasn’t as though she tossed and turned or lay on her back staring at the ceiling, contemplating sheep jumping a fence.

      “You need to take care of yourself.” Evelyn brushed back the lock of hair again. Like all guests at the wedding, Evelyn wore pristine white. In her case, a crisp white suit showed off her figure and demonstrated why she easily passed for ten years younger than the age on her driver’s license. “I worry about you. About what happens when you don’t take care of yourself.”

      Health was a newly discovered focal point for all the Fords, as it was just over a year ago that Mal’s father, Gus, had suffered a heart attack. Suddenly eating reasonably well and exercising occasionally hadn’t been enough. Mal had taken up Pilates, Owen had started running more regularly and was apparently eating egg whites, and Donovan had begun walking everywhere. Mal’s father had taken up gardening while Evelyn had developed an obsession with making sure everyone ate their greens.

      But the changes had been worth it. Her dad had bounced back with a new lease on life and a new attitude. One that he’d turned into a contract to do whatever he wanted. First, it had been his vegetable garden, then nosing around in his kids’ personal lives, followed by the decision to hand over the reins of the family business to his three children.

      Mal still wasn’t sure her mother was over the loss of her flower bed by the side of the house—the once beautiful magenta peonies razed to make way for tomatoes and cucumbers. Or that’s what Evelyn pretended, which Mal now suspected had just been a ploy to get the backyard greenhouse she’d been hinting at for the last five years.

      “I’m taking care of myself,” she told her mother. “I eat right and Grace and I still go to Pilates three mornings a week.” Even on Saturdays, which had once been her day for lounging in yoga pants with a vat of hot coffee, a cinnamon bun, the crossword and a pen.

      “I know.” The line between Evelyn’s eyebrows eased slightly as she nodded. “But it’s a mother’s right to worry about her children.” She fussed with the high collar of Mal’s dress, smoothing it down. “Have you spoken with Travis?”

      Mal forced herself not to react, not to flinch or rear back, even though her bare fingers suddenly seemed to burn with the weight of the missing ring. “Only for a couple of minutes.” Which had been plenty. Even if she still felt as if that final bit of closure continued to elude her.

      “And you’re okay?” Evelyn’s dark-brown eyes, the same color as Mal’s, darted up to meet hers.

      Mal fiddled with her hair, the chocolate color, like her eyes, inherited from her mother. “I’m not going to throw myself into the Pacific Ocean, if that’s what you’re asking.” Just how bad did she look, anyway? Travis was an ex and their breakup had been painful, but it hardly required the family to treat her as though she was glass—fragile, easily shattered. But then, there was Owen...

      Mal felt the beginning of a scowl twist her lips. Owen and his ham-fisted attempts at creating conversations could definitely treat her more delicately.

      Evelyn frowned. “That was certainly not what I was asking.” She waved at her husband who was never far from his wife’s side when they were in