Page 35 of The Rancher's Amnesia Bride

Charlee-Mae's heart went out to Philippe, and she touched his cheek in sympathy. "I'm sorry, Philippe." She looked at his mother. "And you, too, Maman. I also have - had - an older brother, and I still miss him, every day. It hurts to think about him at times, but I force myself to, because I don't want to forget a thing about him."

Sandra was caught off guard by the wave of emotion that rose inside of her at Charlee-Mae's words. She, too, had avoided thinking of her older son because it hurt to remember he was no longer with them, but she realized now that Charlee-Mae was right. Having memories of Pierre, albeit painful, was better than forgetting him completely.

She glanced at Philippe, and the shuttered expression on his handsome face made her heart ache. "It is true, what your wife said, n'est ce pas? We should always do our best to remember."

"Oui."

"Maybe, on Pierre's birthday, we can have dinner as a family, and we can tell Cha-Cha about your brother."

"That would be wonderful," Charlee-Mae agreed right away. "And maybe...we can ask his wife - Greta - to join us? Or would it be too hard for her?"

Sandra managed a smile but could not make herself reply. It was not her style to talk badly of another woman's name, even if it was warranted, but neither was she capable of pretending any kind of fondness for her other daughter-in-law.

Philippe could feel his body turning rigid as Charlee-Mae looked at him expectantly. Hearing his wife utter the other woman's name still didn't feel right, and it was only fortuitous timing that a knock came at the door to keep him from replying.

"I'll get that!" Sandra was already walking towards the door as she spoke.

Philippe raised a brow when he heard the person outside the door mention having something for his wife. "Are you expecting something?"

Charlee-Mae was confused. "No, I'm not...oh."

Philippe's mother was now busy telling a pair of hotel attendants where to place what looked like an endless parade of elaborate Valentine bouquets, some of which included heart-shaped balloons, stuffed animals, and what looked like expensive chocolate.

One of the bouquets came with a massive card that said 'I love you, Cha-Cha! Will you be my date on Valentine's?', and everything instantly made sense.

"These are all so gorgeous, Cha-Cha." The attendants had left, and Sandra was now counting the bouquets that had been delivered. One...two...twenty...thirty...forty...

"Oh my!" Sandra looked at her daughter-in-law admiringly. "Fifty-six in all, and you've only been here for two hours." She glanced back at the bouquets, which all had lovely-looking cards that could only contain the most interesting messages.

The curiosity on her mother-in-law's face was more than evident, and Charlee-Mae said with a laugh, "You can read them if you want, Maman."

"Well, if you insist..."

Charlee-Mae couldn't help grinning. She hadn't actually insisted, but it was fun all the same to watch the older woman hurrying towards the bouquets and excitedly opening the sealed cards one by one. Sandra showed Charlee-Mae a card that had two girls on the cover. "This one is asking you to be her Galentine's date."

"Oh, I think that's possible—-" Charlee-Mae saw Philippe look at her sharply. "I can't?"

"What the hell is a Galentine's date?"

"It's for two gals," she explained with a laugh. "So there's no need to be jealous, mon bébé."

"I was not jealous," Philippe denied even as the tension visibly eased from the rigid set of his broad shoulders.

"You might be with this one," his own mother told him cheerfully as she held out another card. "This man says your wife is the most beautiful woman he has ever seen in his life, and he would be absolutely honored to have her as his Valentine's."

"Aww, bless that man, whoever he is—-"

His wife suddenly burst to her feet, and Philippe scowled. If she thought he would let her keep that fucking card just because a fan had sent it to her—-

"I think I just saw my favorite plant," Charlee-Mae exclaimed.

"A plant?" Sandra's curiosity was piqued. "Not flowers?"

"Oui, Maman. Come see."

Philippe's lip curled as both women oohed and aahed over what only seemed like a bunch of leaves to him. How the fuck could his wife like—-

"Oh my." Sandra's attention was caught by an intricately cut card peeking out from another bouquet. "This is so pretty, and oh, look, ma fille..." She showed the card to her daughter-in-law. "He even wrote you a poem!"

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