Page 55 of Fairy Tale Husband

“Then what the hell—heck are you crying for?” he demanded, relief bringing an exasperated tone to his voice.

She lifted her head, her huge green eyes overflowing. She shook her hand at him again. “I l-lost it! It went down the dr-drain.”

He stared at her hand, her left hand, and understanding dawned. “Your wedding ring. Your wedding ring washed down the drain?” Fresh tears broke loose and, taking them as confirmation, he gathered her into his arms. “It’s all right. Don’t cry. We’ll get you another one.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Her crying intensified. “I d-don’t want another one! Iwant our r-ring. Th-the one you gave me when we got married.”

Before he could reply, Buster and Chick slid to a halt in the doorway, followed closely by Dusty. “Told you she was crying,” Bustersaid.

“What happened to her?” the foreman demanded. “What’s wrong with the girl?”

“Her wedding ring went down the drain,” Jake explained tersely. “Go get a wrench, will you?”

“We’ll have better luck with a shovel,” Dusty replied with a snort. “Most likely we’ll have to dig up the whole septic system to find the dang thing.”

Wynne shuddered in his arms and Jake glared at his foreman. “If I’d wanted your opinion on the matter, I’d have beat it out of you. Just get the damn-dang shovel, will you?”

“I’m a-goin’, I’m a-goin’. No need to git yer britches in a bunch.” Dusty shot the boys a meaningful glance. “The two of you best be careful. Bad luck comes in threes, ya know.” With that telling comment, he tookoff.

Unfortunately, he was soon proved right. Not an hour later, Jake broke his hand tearing up the plumbing.

And the day after that Mrs. Marsh arrived.

“Go to the barn and get Jake,” Wynne ordered the boys, the instant their aunt stepped from her rental car. “Then play upstairs until I call you. Jake and I will speak with Mrs. Marsh in private.”

“What’s she here for? What does she want?” Buster questioned apprehensively.

“I’m sure she wants to meet Jake and see how you two are doing.”

“Is she going to take us away?”

Wynne gave the boys a quick hug. “Of course not. Everything will be fine. She’s just here for a little visit.”

Chick whispered in Buster’s ear. Obliging his brother, he asked, “Do we have to go to that school of hers? The one that won’t let us be together?”

“Not a chance. Now hurry and get Jake.”

It seemed an eternity before he finally emerged from the barn. Joining her in the kitchen, he washed up while she brewed tea. “That woman parked in the parlor is your dragon?” he questioned in amusement. “You sure her name is Marsh and not Marshmallow?”

“You’ll see,” Wynne predicted ominously. “Don’t let all those smiles and dimples fool you. She’s as tough as old shoe leather.”

“Why do you call her Mrs. Marsh? Doesn’t she have a first name?”

“It’s Kitty, but not even the boys are allowed to use it. Ihave permission to address her as Mrs. Marsh or ma’am.” She gritted her teeth. “Needless to say, Irefuse to call her ma’am.”

“And I thought taking care of your dragon lady was going to be tough.” Jake picked up the laden tray awkwardly and grinned. “Lead the way, fair maiden. Ihave a kitty to slew. Or is it slay?”

“Just watch your back,” she retorted. “Or you’ll find out which it is.”

It took a whole thirty seconds for him to discover the truth behind Wynne’s warning.

Mrs. Marsh, afragile-looking woman in her early forties, took a dainty sip of tea, fixed guileless powder-blue eyes on Jake and flashed her dimples. “I do hate wasting precious time on preliminaries,” she announced. “Why don’t we get right down to business?”

Jake lifted an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize you and I had any business.”

“We didn’t.” She stared pointedly at Wynne. “Until very recently.”

He shrugged. “So talk. I’m listening.”

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