Page 13 of Our Now and Forever

“Today, you’re going to walk into an auction with your husband. We both know people will have questions.”

“I hadn’t thought that far ahead.” Snow gathered their plates and carried them to the sink. “Do we have to tell anyone anything?”

How had he not noticed how anti-conflict she was? “That’s up to you, but I don’t think we can avoid telling them something. And before you suggest it, I’m not going to lie.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to lie,” she said, her tone defensive. “I’m suggesting we don’t need to share all the facts ... exactly.”

Telling total strangers that his wife had run from their marriage wasn’t an appealing choice to Caleb, but short of saying he’d dropped out of the sky, he couldn’t think of any other answer.

“Why don’t we tell them we were dating before I moved here,” she said, “and that we’ve recently gotten back in touch.”

“And now I’m living with you?”

“We dated for a long time. We can even say we were engaged. Oh,” she said, growing excited about the story she was concocting. “We reconnected online and have been carrying on a long-distance relationship. And now you’re here.” Looking proud of herself, she added, “That should work.”

Caleb didn’t like having to pretend he wasn’t yet married to his wife, but this could play into his favor. The town would see them as lovebirds planning a wedding. And maybe that’s what they needed. Once Snow admitted they were good together, he could give her the real wedding she deserved.

“I’ll go with that,” he agreed, stepping into the bedroom for his boots.

When he returned with his keys, Snow was waiting by the door. “I’ll drive.”

“But I always drive,” he said. Caleb couldn’t remember the last time he’d occupied a passenger seat.

“I like driving,” she said. “You don’t always have to be the one behind the wheel. And besides, I know where we’re going.”

His sense of chivalry prickled. “You can give me directions.”

Snow stared at him with her hand on the doorknob. “Caleb McGraw, you can ride in my car with me driving, or you can stay here. Or,” she added, “you can go home. Those are your choices.”

He didn’t like any of those choices. “I can let you drive,” he grudgingly agreed. “It’s not a big deal.”

As she opened the door and waved him through, she said, “You’re not letting me do anything. Let’s be clear about that.”

Arguing was getting him nowhere, so he held his tongue and stepped past Snow onto her tiny porch. Once outside, a wave of pure satisfaction washed over him. Caleb waited at the bottom of the steps for Snow to lock the door. When she turned, reality struck. The look on her face was priceless.

They’d left her car in town the night before.

Caleb pulled his keys from his pocket, saying, “Good thing I brought these with me.” He held the passenger door for his wife, who climbed inside without a word. Not that he needed her to tell him what she was thinking. The tic of her jaw said it all.

Finally. He’d won a point.

Snow had never considered herself a competitive person, but the hint of even a minor defeat left a bitter taste in her mouth. She should have insisted on driving herself home the night before. Did he really think she’d lead him on a high-speed chase?

He probably never thought she’d disappear into thin air two months after their wedding, so maybe his suspicious nature was justified.

As the Brambleton house came into view, Snow realized they’d made the entire trip in comfortable silence. She’d been irritated when they’d left her place, but there was something calming about sitting next to Caleb. A sense of security, as if she could relax because she wasn’t on her own. That sense of feeling protected had been a big draw for her. Few men she’d come across in her life had carried the kind of confidence and strength that emanated from the man in the driver’s seat.

Maybe that was the problem. He made her feel too comfortable. If she let her guard down completely, and then everything fell apart, where would she be? And deep down, she knew things were bound to fall apart. Caleb was the very definition of too good to be true.

Except for his annoying little quirks. Like insisting on being the big man behind the wheel.

A crowd had already gathered on the front yard of the estate. The items would likely be auctioned from the front porch, but not until potential buyers had the chance to examine the merchandise. Snow almost hated to think of the items that way. These were likely family heirlooms. Pieces that had sentimental value to someone, and that had each absorbed the history of its owners. Sometimes she could look at a piece and a scene would unfold in her head.

Ladies drinking tea and sharing the latest gossip across a Seymour card table. A lonely little boy hugging his Steiff teddy bear as he watches his parents drive off to some society gathering. Or a teenage boy in the seventies huddled over his grandfather’s old Fender guitar with dreams of being the next Jimmy Page.

Years of being dragged through endless flea markets with her grandmother had given Snow both an extensive knowledge of anything old, and a love of the stories the antique pieces could tell. Granny Cameron had worked in a fine old house when she was young, and she’d been responsible for polishing the furniture that had been built before the Civil War. Sometimes it seemed as if Granny were a walking history book, and she’d passed the knowledge, along with a desire to learn more, down to her granddaughter.

“Is there something in particular we’re looking for?” Caleb asked as they approached the crowd in the yard.

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