Chapter Three


John froze at Marnie's announcement. "Okay. We're treading in deep water, for me at least. I'm more than happy to take you to the hospital, but motorcycle isn't how you should be traveling." Plus he wasn't certain exactly what all needed to be done for broken water issues. He'd been more comfortable with the broken doors.
Valentine smiled. "I'll drive her. Mason, I'll spare you, though I know you'd be more than willing."
"Probably be better if I watched your shop," Mason said gruffly. "I helped deliver my daughter, but Mimi did all the work."
Valentine helped Marnie to her truck. John supported her on the other side, trying to be more help than pest. She felt great, he noted awkwardly, pretty certain he shouldn't feel any stirrings of lust for a woman in labor. But she had the softest skin he'd ever touched.
"John, you don't have to come with us." Marnie glanced up at him as she slowly seated herself in the truck.
"I'm going to follow behind on my motorcycle. That way you have the bench seat to yourself, and if you need anything like ice cream or pickles later, I can scoot off to get it."
Valentine giggled. "She's past the point of pickles."
John shrugged. "I'll follow."
At the hospital, he parked and hurried to help Marnie walk inside. She seemed so small and fragile that guiltily, he thought maybe he'd upset her so much he'd made her go into labor. Despite all the adventures he'd experienced on this trip, this one made his heart race the fastest, and he wasn't sure why. He wasn't the one having a baby.
At the ripe age of thirty-five, that was one of his regrets. He had no children, just an ex-wife from many years ago with whom he was still good friends, nothing romantic. He watched Marnie check in with the nurses at the desk, who then hustled her into a birthing room.
"And you are?" a sweet-faced older nurse asked him.
"My name is John Colby. I just met the…mother-to-be."
She smiled at him. "Oh, so you're John. Very brave of you to join in the fun."
He wasn't sure about that. "I think Marnie's the one with the courage. I'm just a bystander waiting to be sent for pizza or…whatever."
"She'd like for you to go on your merry way, actually," the nurse said.
"Did she say that?" He was surprised.
"Yes. But I don't think Miss McGovern meant permanently. She said to ask you to make yourself comfortable elsewhere because this could take a while."
"Oh." His disappointment faded slightly. "Is there a room for expectant bystanders or something?"
She grinned. "Down the hall. There's coffee and some ******s. You could be here a while though. First babies are notoriously slow."
It didn't matter. Hanging around was the least he could do.
But it wasn't even about obligation.
It was more about Marnie's soft skin…and he really wanted to know that she was going to be all right.

Chapter Four


Twelve hours later, Marnie held her new daughter close.
"She's beautiful," Valentine said. "You've got an anxious bachelor outside."
"He's still here?" Marnie hadn't thought John would stick around.
"Yes. Brave fellow." Valentine fluffed Marnie's hair with a smile. "You look beautiful, as does baby Liza. So shall we let John off the hook? I've spent a bit of time chatting with him, and he sincerely believes he made you go into labor early. Something Mason said sort of stuck in his brain."
Fluttery nerves settled in her stomach, which she attributed to afterbirth pains. "If you don't mind getting him…"
John walked in a few moments later carrying a bouquet of flowers and a huge teddy bear. Marnie blinked, not expecting gifts. "Hi."
"For the new baby," he said, laying the flowers on a table, and Valentine excused herself to go get a vase. "She's beautiful."
"Thank you." Marnie couldn't explain the wonderful feelings filling her. All the months of worry had melted away when Liza had been laid in her arms. "I think so, too."
"When can you go home?"
"I believe tomorrow since the delivery was uncomplicated."
"That's too soon," John said, frowning. "You should probably stay here a month just to make certain the baby is all right."
Marnie smiled at his protectiveness and his lack of knowledge. "I'd go crazy. Anyway, it's normal procedure."
John reached out to touch the baby's hand when it flailed free from the flannel blanket. "She's so tiny."
"Seven pounds, two ounces," Marnie said proudly.
"So, now what?" John asked.
She looked up at him. "What do you mean?"
"You said you didn't want to live in the salon with the other girls, that you wanted to move to Tulips. I've thrown a wrench into those plans."
She'd been about to deliver the doors—with Mason's help—to the new owners. Pansy and Helen would then have made the down payment on the house. "I'm not certain," she murmured, not wanting to sound like she had no place to go. She did have a room in the salon; she just wanted a different life for Liza.
"We heard we have a new townsperson!" Two elderly women walked into the hospital room, heading straight for the baby. "Oh, Marnie, she's adorable," one of the ladies cooed.
"Thank you." Marnie smiled. "Helen Granger, Pansy Trifle, I'd like to introduce you to John Colby from West Virginia."
They smiled broadly, clearly impressed.
"Hello, John," Pansy said, "are you staying in Union Junction? I don't believe I've heard your name before."
"Last night I stayed here in the hospital." He grinned. "After that, I'm not certain."
"You're always welcome in Tulips." Pansy turned to Marnie. "We've got plenty of room."
Marnie clutched Liza to her more closely. "I have some bad news."
"What is it, dear?" Pansy asked.
Marnie hated to tell them. She glanced at John, realizing from the sympathetic look on his face that he knew exactly what she was about to say.
"Funny thing how Marnie and I met," John said, "I drove my motorcycle through some beautiful doors that apparently were meant for you two."
They gasped. "Thank heavens you're all right!" Pansy exclaimed.
"Thank you." He acknowledged her comment with a nod. "When Marnie feels stronger, I'd like to be her house husband so she can work. It's not a fair exchange, because I should be the one working and she should be the one relaxing with the baby, but I don't have any other ideas. She says it should take about three months."
Helen looked at him, her gaze shrewd. "You'd be willing to do that for someone you've just met?"
Marnie's gaze met his, and he saw the same question lingering there. "How much better can life be than getting to hold a baby?"
Pansy straightened. "I forgot to tell you, Marnie. We bought the house already."
Helen stared at her friend. "Oh…that's right. So we could surprise you with a…decorated baby nursery. Courtesy of Ladies Day at the Tulips Saloon."
"I don't know what to say," Marnie said, her eyes filling with grateful tears. "Except thank you so much. You have no idea what this means to me."
Helen grabbed John's sleeve, leading him into the hallway. "Now look, young man. That's a special woman in there. I hope you intend to back up your promise."
"I do."
Helen studied him, then nodded. "Excellent. Then get on that bike I saw outside with the West Virginia plates and follow us to Tulips. You're not needed here tonight, and you've got some painting to do in a baby's nursery!"
"You fibbed?"
"No more than necessary," Helen said. "I know the owner. It will be a simple thing to make the arrangements to buy the house right away. Holt is one of our dear friends and will be happy to help us."
He looked at her, his own gaze turning shrewd. "Can I make the first payment?" He'd feel better if he could—it was the best way to replace what he'd ruined.
Helen hesitated. "Exactly what are your intentions here, stranger?"

Chapter Five


Pansy smiled at Marnie as she held her new baby. "Liza's like a little peapod."
"Except not green." Smiling, Marnie marveled at the bonds of new motherhood sewing her tightly to her daughter. "I've waited all my life for this."
"We're looking forward to having two new settlers in Tulips. We'll expect you at the Ladies Only Day every week. Us having a day to ourselves grates on the good sheriff's nerves," Pansy said, "but only because he's gotten used to his daily dose of tea, ******s and female friendship, though he'll never admit it."
"I'm sorry about the doors," Marnie murmured.
"Fortunately, some things can be replaced. But what I want to know is what happens after those three months are over?"
Marnie looked at Pansy. "What do you mean?"
"And the handsome stranger rides away on his motorcycle. Seems fate might have swept an opportunity into your lap."
"Why? Because he's a man?" Marnie shook her head. "This from the woman who started a Ladies Only Day in her town."
"It's just a thought," Pansy said with a smile. "What if you get attached to him?"
She smiled at the hopeful matchmaking and decided to gently quash Pansy's hopes. "It's not like a fiancé backing out, is it? John won't exactly be leaving me. He'd be doing a job and then moving on."
"So you've decided to accept his offer?"
Marnie didn't reply.
"Oh, let me tell you about the house," Pansy said. "You know there aren't many houses in Tulips available, because, frankly, there hasn't been much development there. We're the undiscovered gem of Texas."
Marnie nodded. "That's a huge draw, in my opinion." She didn't want to raise her daughter in the city. She'd loved living in Lonely Hearts Station with the stylists, and when they'd moved to Union Junction, she'd loved living here, too. "So tell me what you found."
"Well, Holt, our town hairdresser, owns a few properties and rents a few others. He happened to have a house Helen and I believe will be perfect for you. It even," she said with a gleam in her eye, "has a cute little outbuilding we think you might use for a studio."
That sounded perfect. Marnie had dreamed of having space for a childproof studio that she could lock up at night.
"I think the proper term is 'mother-in-law quarters.'" Pansy wrinkled her nose. "We prefer to call it a studio, though."
Marnie smiled. "Thank you so much for all you've done."
Helen and John walked back into the room, Helen smiling broadly. "I have thoroughly chatted with this young man and discovered his intentions, Marnie."
"His intentions?" She looked at John warily.
"Yes," Helen said nodding. "Between the three of us, Marnie would have all the help she needs while she works on the doors."
"But she needs time alone with her new baby," Pansy said.
Helen looked at John. "At least six weeks, don't you think?"
Marnie blinked. "Oh, no," she said, "I can start right—"
"That makes sense," John said. "Six weeks would give Marnie time to settle into her house with her new baby without a stranger being around. I could get to California and Alaska by then."
As a business proposal, it was sound, and yet it felt awkward. Marnie didn't want to wait to see if another man was going to come back to her, and she didn't want to be a commitment John was obligated to fulfill.
"It was my fault," she said softly, and everyone's face turned toward her. "I shouldn't have had my girlfriends carry the doors outside in the first place. I should have waited for Mason to get there with his truck. Anyone could have hit them." She looked at John. "Next time I'm waiting for something to be loaded, I'll use street cones to make certain the area is properly blocked off. Beginner's mistake since we don't get much traffic in Union Junction."
She took a deep breath. "It would be easier for you, and all of us, if you just paid for the doors so you can be on your way. So I accept your first offer."

Chapter Six


After Marnie accepted his offer of money to replace the doors he'd broken, John had quietly pulled out a checkbook and written a check for three thousand dollars, though he'd secretly wheedled Helen into letting him make the first payment on the house, as well. He knew what he'd pay an artist to create one-of-a-kind doors. Touching baby Liza with longing fingers, he then left the hospital and headed for Tulips, following the instructions Helen had written on a piece of paper.
The key was under the back door mat, as she'd said it would be, and John walked into the small pink brick house Pansy and Helen had purchased for Marnie and Liza. He could fit the entire house into a portion of his home in West Virginia.
Somehow, this one felt more homey. He liked knowing that he'd seen the house before even Marnie had, and could help get it ready.
Then he would, as she'd requested, "be on his way."
Her request had hurt his feelings somewhat, but he'd also understood. He had a sister, and he well remembered all the commotion a brand new baby had brought into her life. If Marnie needed time, he'd give her time. In fact, this trip was all about time he'd been searching for himself, time away from his family and their disappointment that he wasn't settling down; time away from his job that he'd worked at non-stop for fifteen years, growing it to success; time away from a mansion that had, lately, begun to seem empty.
But now he had time to stop and paint a small nursery. Helen had tried to back out of letting him paint it after he'd paid Marnie for the doors, but this was John's chance to do some good.
"And I'm going to do it," he murmured, rolling up his sleeves.
Though it was a small room, it had a south-facing window which looked over the backyard and a tiny mother-in-law's cottage out back. It was a perfect workplace for Marnie since she wanted to be a stay-at-home mom and artist. On the other hand, she might have wanted family to stay with her.
Dismissing that thought, he remembered Marnie had seemed pretty close to her elderly friends. And to Mason, he thought with a bit of jealousy. There had also been a number of stylist friends coming in and out of the hospital room, so his departure had barely been noticed by Marnie, though her friends had been very happy to meet him.
He opened a paint can, and stirred the sweet candy-pink-tinted white paint. Pansy and Helen had thought of everything for painting, including a drop cloth to protect the blond hardwood floors. The floors looked like they needed a buffing and maybe a sanding, as did the rest of the floors in the house. The rooms looked like they would benefit from a fresh coat of paint, and he'd vote for new appliances in the kitchen. Carefully, he taped off the windows, removed the switchplates in the room, and picking up a paint brush, began edging a ********
The truth was, he wouldn't have stayed this long if he hadn't felt attracted to Marnie. And Liza had stolen his heart in the few hours he'd seen her. He hadn't even held her—no one had. She'd stayed tucked in Marnie's arms.
He knew he was dancing on the reckless edge of disaster. Marnie, it was clear, did not want a man in her life. Maybe she still pined for Liza's father. He wondered when she'd seen the rat last, and then recognized the unfairness of his rush to judgment. Just because the man hadn't been there for the birth of his child didn't necessarily mean anything. Marnie could get back together with him; things like that happened all the time.
Marnie was the kind of woman who wouldn't go from one man to another easily. She would hold people she'd loved in her heart a long time.
He thought about the clear hazel of Marnie's eyes, always looking at him, weighing him, measuring the meaning of his sudden appearance in her life.
She'd been right: it was time for him to go.
Four hours later, he finished painting Liza's little nursery. Despite how much his hands itched to improve the rest of the house, he did as he'd been asked.
He got on his Harley, and he headed out of Tulips.

Chapter Seven


Marnie and Liza settled in Tulips, delighted with the house that Helen and Pansy found. Liza was now six weeks old and only getting up once in the night. The small house had a calming effect on Marnie, and she was certain her daughter sensed her serenity.
Marnie never let herself think about John Colby—or at least she tried not to. Pansy and Helen admitted that he'd painted the nursery to make up for the doors he'd broken. It hadn't been necessary for him to do that, but the room was so delicate and pretty, especially with the rosebud printed valances, that she was glad he'd painted it.
She was slightly unnerved that he'd seen her house, and wondered if her two Tulip friends had been purposeful in allowing him to do it. Aware that John knew where she lived, Marnie wondered if he would ever return. He owed her nothing so there was no reason for him to come to Tulips; she'd told him not to.
Still, she caught herself counting every once in a while.
"That's exactly what I didn't want in the first place!" Annoyed at realizing today was the first day after Liza's six week birthday—and recognizing she felt disappointment that John hadn't been there—Marnie snapped herself back into line. She'd given him zero encouragement. In fact, she'd felt awkward, fat, tense and tired, and the door incident had capped off all the worry and some fear she'd felt before giving birth.
"It was normal," Helen had pronounced when Marnie told her she'd felt like a giant bear in stretch pants around John. "Anyway, he seemed interested in you and I don't think it was because you looked like a mother bear." Pansy had giggled, and Marnie felt better now that she'd lost ten pounds and saw some of her normal curves shaping her body.
"But why does it matter anyway?" she asked Liza, kissing her baby's head. "Only you made a good impression. Not to mention that we don't even know much about him." Of course, she'd known a lot about Liza's father, everything except his clear lack of interest in being a father when he learned Marnie was pregnant. So much for pre-wedded bliss.
Marnie carried Liza out to the workroom she'd set up in the cottage. New, unstained wood for the doors lay against a wall. She had all the supplies she needed, and the original design was open in her portfolio.
She was ready to start over.
She heard voices in the back yard. "I think we have visitors," she told Liza. "It sounds like your aunts Pansy and Helen." She went outside, not at all surprised to see Liza's self-appointed angels, but surprised to see John Colby with them, carrying a giant two-story dollhouse wrapped with a big pink bow. Marnie's heart instantly began a nervous fluttering.
"Hello," Marnie said, awkward all over again. She didn't recall John being so distinctly handsome. Suntanned from riding on his motorcycle, his hair longer than before and distinctly raffish, he didn't look much like the well-groomed man who'd hung around for Liza's birth. He was a lot more sexy, much more tempting, and it wasn't post-pregnancy hormones zinging around inside her convincing her of it.
He grinned at her, and Marnie's knees went distinctly weak.
"Reporting for duty," John said. "Happy birthday, Liza, one day late."