Caleb tried not to panic. He wasn’t giving up his wife, and she wasn’t giving up this dinky town. There was only one solution. At least until he could convince her to come home with him.

“Fine,” he said. “We’ll live here.”

Chapter 3

Snow tilted her head. “What did you say?”

“You heard me. If this is where you want to live, then I’m good with it.”

A new panic raced through Snow’s system. Caleb may be Southern, but contrary to what many believed, growing up in the South did not make a person “country.” Snow had grown up in a small town. She was used to the slower pace and nosy neighbors. Her husband lived in cities. With malls and skyscrapers and things to do. Caleb was not the rural type.

“You’re not kidding, are you?”

“Nope,” he said. “Not kidding.”

Now what was she supposed to do? Their location had not been the only reason their marriage had been a fiasco. There was his father and the hateful words she’d overheard the night she left. Not until her parents came to visit did the McGraw clan, Caleb included, learn that Snow’s father was half black, landing Snow squarely and immediately in the undesirable category.

After one of the most uncomfortable dinners in the history of family meetings, when he’d assumed Snow was out of earshot, Jackson McGraw had demanded that Caleb get rid of her at once. Her husband’s response had been that a divorce would mean giving Snow half of everything. No, “But I love her.” No, “I won’t give her up.”

Only that he had to protect the McGraw fortune.

Staring at the floor, Snow said, “I heard you.”

“You heard me what?” he asked.

Pushing the hurt away, she answered, “I heard your response to your father when he declared my mixed blood a taint to your family line.” She looked up in time to see Caleb’s blue eyes flare wide with surprise. “You said a divorce would allow me to take half of everything. You couldn’t jeopardize the McGraw money by divorcing the girl who tricked you into believing she was white.”

Though the last part had never passed his lips, Snow knew the thought must have crossed his mind. His flip response to his father proved it.

Caleb ran a hand through his thick hair, glancing to the ceiling as if praying for a plausible excuse.

“I don’t want your money, Caleb,” she said.

“I never said you did.” He blew out a breath and added, “I had no idea you heard that conversation, but you need to understand why I said what I did. And the way I said it.”

“Oh, I understand,” she said, turning her back to her husband. “And I feel the same way. As I said, this marriage was a mistake.”

“Snow, my father speaks one language, and that’s money. If I’d have made some romantic protest about our marriage, he would have laughed in my face and had lawyers on the phone by morning. The only way to change his mind was to make him believe that a divorce would cost him a substantial amount of money.” The chair rattled as Caleb rose and crossed to stand in front of her, looking Snow in the eye as he continued. “It was the first thing that popped into my head. I’m sorry that you’ve thought all this time that I really meant those words.”

She wanted to believe him. Staring into his face, she looked for anything that would give him away, that would prove he was manipulating her and only saying what she wanted to hear. But sincerity shone in those blue depths.

She’d been wrong, but there was no way Snow could have known that. Especially since she’d left instead of sticking around to confront him. But that one overheard conversation wasn’t the only problem with their marriage; it had simply been the breaking point for her. There were still the vast differences in their families and background. Their utter lack of compatibility. And her absolute certainty that she could never fit into Caleb’s world.

“We’re still too different, and that isn’t going to change in a new ZIP code.”

In his typical stubborn way, Caleb said, “We aren’t that different.”

“Yes, we are.” Too many times in their short relationship, Snow had given in to Caleb’s obstinate positivity. His refusal to hear anything he didn’t believe to be true had frustrated her to no end. If she had tried to tell him there were problems, long before that awful last night, he’d have argued that they were fine. End of conversation. Much of the time, talking to her husband felt like talking to a wall.

“We both like country music,” he offered, as if stating some arbitrary interest would prove his point.

“I don’t like football,” Snow rebutted.

Caleb hesitated. “You don’t like football? But you watched all those games with me.”

“I was trying to be supportive,” she answered.

Looking slightly off balance, Caleb said, “That’s fine. A lot of women don’t like sports.”