The Best Bride. Susan Mallery

clothes, thanks to Travis’s patience at shopping, and several new friends. Life was good for the six-year-old.

      Elizabeth walked down the hallway to the last door. Like most of the rooms in the house, the master bedroom was vacant, the walls stripped of wallpaper, the hardwood floor in need of repair. But even empty and abandoned, it was a beautiful room. Bay windows overlooked the back of the property, creating an intimate sitting area. There was a stone fireplace in the corner and a huge bathroom through the doorway at the far end.

      She made her way over the stacks of supplies and tools. She could hear a file rubbing against wood.

      “You ready to take a break?” she called. “Or should I come back later?”

      “I can take a break.”

      “Good.” She entered the bathroom. Molding for the ceiling lay stacked in the center. Travis had told her he planned to do the master bed and bath in a Victorian style. He’d even ordered a claw-footed bathtub. Several cabinets stood around the outside of the room. Pipes stuck out from the wall.

      Travis sat in the middle of the floor, an open cabinet in front of him. He looked up as she entered. Something flickered in his eyes. Not passion, not even interest. It was almost a fleeting hint of sadness, followed by a healthy dose of mistrust. She stopped dead in her tracks.

      “What’s wrong?” she asked.

      “Nothing.” He blinked and the expression was gone, replaced by one she couldn’t read.

      Her stomach tightened as worry made her gnaw on her lower lip. She handed him a mug of coffee. He took it and nodded his thanks, then sipped the steaming liquid. Silence stretched between them. She didn’t know what to say. Apparently he didn’t, either, because the room stayed quiet.

      She walked over to the rolls of wallpaper and studied the rose-and-ivory pattern. She could feel Travis’s gaze on her back. What had she done?

      “You didn’t have to stay home tonight to keep me company,” she said at last, still staring at the wallpaper.

      “I’ve been neglecting the house.” He picked up his file and went to work on the cabinet.

      She wanted to believe that was all it was, but she couldn’t. The knot in her belly was too big to be ignored.

      “Then tell me what’s wrong. Are you angry with me?”

      The file clinked when he dropped it to the floor. She heard him stand up and move close to her. She drew in a deep breath and turned around.

      He’d set his coffee on the cabinet and stood with his arms folded over his chest. Worn black jeans hugged his strong thighs. His flannel shirt, rolled up to the elbows, had seen better days. The faded, soft fabric clung to him, highlighting his strength. When she gathered enough courage, she raised her head to look at his face. Dark eyes revealed nothing, nor did the straight set of his mouth.

      “I didn’t deliberately look through your mail,” he said.

      The knot in her stomach tightened. When he and Mandy had come back with her mail, she’d had a moment’s unease. What if Travis had noticed who it was addressed to? But Mandy had proudly told her that she’d carried it all by herself. When Travis hadn’t said anything, Elizabeth had assumed he hadn’t looked.

      “Mandy kept it on her lap. When it fell off, I picked it up. It’s all addressed to Elizabeth Proctor. There’s a postcard from your parents, Elizabeth. Your own parents use Sam’s last name. Why did you lie?”

      She expected the shame. When the hot emotion flooded her, she had to fight to keep from ducking her head. She could feel the blush creeping up her cheeks. Even in the soft light of the bathroom he would be able to see her embarrassment. But she hadn’t expected to feel such sadness and regret. Travis had believed her. Despite the evidence against her, despite his questions, he’d trusted her to be who she said she was. He hadn’t pressed to know her secrets. He’d been there for her, a good friend, and now that was gone.

      “I’m sorry,” she said slowly, gripping her mug tightly. “I didn’t want anyone to know. I couldn’t tell you because I knew what you would think.”

      “What’s the problem?” he asked. His eyebrows drew together. He unfolded his arms and held out his hands, palms up. “It’s no big deal. People get divorced all the time. Hell, I’m divorced. Why would you think anyone would care?”

      “It’s not that simple.”

      “What’s not that simple? Did he beat you? Was he into men instead of women? Dammit, Elizabeth, tell me the truth.”

      She’d always known it would come to this. She should have known the secret would get out. What would Travis think of her when he knew? Would he despise her? Call her a fool? She shook her head. He couldn’t say anything worse than what she’d already told herself.

      “None of those things,” she said at last. “Sam Proctor was already married when I met him. I didn’t know, and he didn’t tell me. Sam was a bigamist.”

Chapter Nine

      If the situation hadn’t been so sad and serious, Elizabeth might have laughed. Travis couldn’t have looked more shocked if she’d stripped off all her clothes and started dancing around naked. The giggle in the back of her throat cracked and threatened to become a sob. She covered her mouth with her hand and turned away.

      “You’re the second wife?” he asked.

      “Y-yes.” She cleared her throat. It didn’t help. Her legs started to tremble. She clutched at a stack of boxes of tiles, but the support wasn’t enough. Shame, bitter regret, pain and confusion flooded her. She didn’t want to lose Travis. Not yet. She needed him to be her friend. Now everything was lost.

      She stopped trying to hold on and sank to her knees. The floor was cold through her jeans, but she didn’t care. She clutched her arms to her chest and fought to stay coherent.

      “I didn’t know,” she said, not turning around to face him. She didn’t want to see the disgust in his eyes. “I swear I didn’t know. I should have, of course. I was stupid. Young, naive. It was my fault for not questioning more. But I was barely out of my teens. Things like that didn’t happen to girls from like me.” She spoke quickly, as if by telling the tale fast he would be more likely to believe her.

      “I met Sam at a lecture, at college. My parents had wanted me to stay home and go to a local junior college, but I wanted to get away. They seemed so old and out of touch with everything. I was working and going to school part-time. There was this lecture. I saw his picture. He was blond and good-looking. When he spoke, it was wonderful. The lecture was on staying motivated to achieve goals. He was very big on staying motivated.” She paused to catch her breath.

      “You don’t have to tell me this,” Travis said quietly. He was still behind her. She didn’t dare turn around; she couldn’t. Maybe if she explained it all correctly, he would understand. Maybe he would know that she’d tried, really tried. She hadn’t meant to make such a big mistake.

      “I sat in the back because I was shy.” She sniffed. “Silly. I didn’t have the courage to ask my questions in front of the group. There were probably two hundred people in the room. But afterward I went up to talk to him. There was a crowd, mostly women. They were older and well dressed. I was just a kid. When he spoke to me, I was enchanted. He looked at me as if I were something special. Something different. That meant a lot. When he asked me to go for coffee…well, I couldn’t refuse.”

      “Elizabeth, don’t.”

      “I have to. I have to make you understand.”

      “I understand.”

      “No, you don’t.” She looked up at him. Shock still flared in his dark eyes. He sat on the edge of the cabinet staring down at her. His arms were folded over his chest. His body language