Authors: Jillian Hart
No One But You (8 page)
It didn’t take long to get Lyn and her daughter packed and moved. Lyn had already planned ahead what to take. Sunni had helped the woman and her daughter settle into their private room, then took them to the dining hall for a late supper.
Mariah’s stomach growled as she drove home, glad that Lyn had taken the first step to helping herself, to being her own best friend.
When Mariah pulled into her driveway, she saw that Roland still hadn’t come home. Lyn had predicted he would be out drinking until late. Perhaps he would come to his senses when he found the house empty, and seek the help he desperately needed, but she feared that, like many abusers, he was too self-centered to admit to his own flaws. That saddened her as she hit the garage remote and waited for the door to rise.
What was she going to do about Wyatt? Seeing Roland tonight and seeing herself in Lyn had made it clear; she couldn’t risk going back. She would be wise to not trust another man.
Except not all men were like Jasper and Roland.
She eased into her parking spot, cut the engine and sat a moment as the door lowered into place. It had felt nice when Wyatt backed her up tonight, wanting to protect her. He’d been there for Jake and he’d waited at the hospital. She thought of how much Jake liked Wyatt, and the way her heart opened when the man smiled at her—opened, when it had been guarded for so long.
And that scared her.
She slipped from behind the wheel, determined. When you trusted a man, you trusted him with your life. Moreover, you trusted him with your child’s life. Nothing—not one thing—could ever make her risk that again.
So, what was she going to do? She stepped into the warmth of the house and shrugged out of her coat in the dark living room. The TV murmured. She heard a crowd cheer, a whistle blow and commentators argue. She tried to ignore the warmth in her heart and the little thrill she felt knowing Wyatt was here. She’d missed him. Regardless of how hard she’d tried not to, she’d missed him. What if she didn’t have what it took to risk love again?
“Mariah.” Wyatt looked up from the kitchen counter, where he was dicing a carrot. “Is your neighbor okay?”
“Yes. We’re going to help her move back to Michigan, where the rest of her family is.”
“Good. She deserves that.” He scooped the carrot coins into a bowl of salad and carried it to the table.
To a table that was neatly set, the glasses filled with bubbling soda and the bread wrapped in foil on a trivet. He plunked the salad down with a clink. She stared, unable to take it all in. “You made dinner? You made my spaghetti and meatballs.”
“Yep. Jake found the recipe in the drawer. Hobart helped, too. He ate every crumb and noodle that hit the floor.” The old dog looked up at the sound of his name, gave a woof and went back to drowsing on his bed in the corner. The scents of garlic and onion, of doughy pasta and steaming marinara filled the air as Wyatt set the dutch oven on the table. “I’m not much of a cook, but I think I did an all right job.”
“It smells wonderful.” Tears burned behind her eyes. He’d done this for her? She couldn’t believe it. Just when she’d thought he couldn’t do more to win her heart, he’d done this. “I never thought the day would come when I saw Wyatt Royce wearing a set of pink-and-green oven mitts.”
“It’s my new look. What do you think?”
“I like it. Very much.” Her heart tumbled, falling for him so swift and hard that not even her fears could stop it. What was she going to do now? She was vulnerable, completely defenseless. Every instinct she had shouted at her to run, to escape and push him away so she would be safe. But how could she? It was nice coming home to him. It was wonderful having a man who took care of her, who cared for her, who was everything she’d ever wanted.
He was the man she needed. She, independent Mariah Duncan needed him with all of her heart.
“I’ve been thinking while you were gone.” He slipped off the oven mitts. “I have to be honest. There’s something you need to know. Maybe you’re not ready to hear it, or maybe you’re not ready for me yet. I’ll wait. I’ll do whatever it takes, whatever you need. I used to think nothing could heal my heart, it was in so many pieces. But it turns out one thing can heal that deep of a wound. Love. My love for you.”
“I love you, too.” Tears welled in her eyes, refusing to fall. “But what am I going to do? How am I going to—“
“Keep your heart safe?” he finished. Wyatt knew everything about her, he could see so deep. The devotion he felt for her, the connection he had with her was singular and rare. A gift he’d never thought he would find again. “You are safe with me, Mariah. Your heart, your life, and your son’s life. As safe as can be.”
“I’ve had to protect myself for so long. I don’t know how to let someone else in…how to trust again.”
“Then let me help you.” His hands cupped her face, cradling her gently with all his strength, all his gentleness. “I promise I will always be there for you. I will never hurt you. My life and my heart are yours.”
“I know that, Wyatt. And I need you.” It hurt to open up to him instead of pushing him away. She’d never felt so defenseless as he leaned closer. His lips covered hers with the softest caress and lingered with the sweetest stroke. Tenderness filled her—so strong, so perfect—and when he pulled away, she almost couldn’t believe it had been real.
His arms came around her, folding her carefully against his chest. She listened to his heartbeat, steady and reliable, and tears filled her eyes again. She felt safe with him, only with him. Completely and utterly safe. Her defenses came crashing down, leaving her free. Free to hope and to dream, free to be the woman she was meant to be.
“Hey, Mom, is that you?” Jake’s footfalls thumped on the stairs. “Is dinner ready? I’m starving.”
“Me, too.” She stepped out of Wyatt’s arms, brimming with a kind of happiness she’d never known before. And all because she’d opened her heart.
Love would not let her down this time, she was sure of it. She could feel it in Wyatt’s touch, just as she’d felt it in his kiss. It was so easy to see their future, to believe that great happiness was right here, right now, unfolding before her. Meals at this table, laughter in this room, and Wyatt in this house, home at last.
Jake bounded into the room, Wyatt pulled out her chair and they sat down at the table together, a family.
One year later
“Mariah Royce. Do you have a minute?” The deep baritone rumbled above the noise of the crowd, drawing her out of her thoughts.
“For you, handsome? I have more than a minute.” Strange, the power that one voice had out of the many rising around her. Her heart skipped three beats as she turned toward the tall, powerful man striding toward her through the crowd.
Her soul sighed, complete, as she noted his confident gait, the always-in-charge manner, and those dazzling blue eyes that connected with hers. Everything else faded into the background. She didn’t notice the banner flapping in the March wind, advertising the diaper drive, or the line of cars pulling up to hand off donations to volunteers. All she saw was her husband as he stalked closer, looking happy and relaxed in a sweatshirt and jeans.
Her rock. Her foundation.
The diamonds of her wedding ring flashed in the cheerful sunshine as she circled around the end of the booth, breathless to meet him. “How was your golf game?”
“Great. Dave says hi.” Wyatt’s eyes shone with love as he pulled her against his chest. She snuggled into his iron strength, savoring the feel of his arms wrapped around her, holding her close. Serenity filled her, here where she was most safe. Wyatt spoke into her hair. “Dave asked me if we knew a nice single lady. Maybe we could have him over for dinner—“
“Hey, I’m a nice single lady and I’m free for dinner,” Sunni chimed in, clipboard in hand. “I hate to interrupt, but the camera crew is almost ready for you.”
“Tell Sally I’ll be right there.” It wasn’t easy, stepping out of Wyatt’s arms, so Mariah lingered a moment longer. What an incredible year it had been, with Wyatt’s courtship, his proposal and a Christmas wedding. He’d moved into their house—Jake had been ecstatic to finally have a father—and she’d never been happier. Wyatt spent his days honoring her and cherishing her, as she did him, the way true love should be.
And as for Mary’s Place, she and the contractor had done the final walk-through earlier in the morning. The opening celebration was scheduled for next weekend, and the doors would be flung wide, the shelter a safe haven for women and children in need of a fresh start.
“Hey, Mom!” Jake loped up, a few inches taller, a bit broader in the shoulders, a handsome boy in his senior year. He’d already been offered a scholarship at his university of choice. He was healthy, and thanks to medication, his arrhythmia hadn’t reccurred. “I’m reporting for duty.”
“Excellent. Then go make yourself useful, kid.” She winked at him, earning a happy smile. “Sunni looks like she could use some help.”
“I’m on it.” The boy grinned widely, happiness radiating from him as he jogged off to help. She watched him, her throat aching as she remembered the night long ago when Jasper had tossed her out of the house, leaving her in the snow, freezing and bleeding. Baby Jake’s cries of misery had permeated the walls. Never had she been so grateful that she’d made that difficult choice to get help. Nellie’s had helped her find this life—this beautiful life—and Mariah would be forever grateful.
“Hey, you’re crying.” Wyatt caught her single tear with the pad of his thumb. “Are you okay?”
“Better than okay.” Love for him crashed through her like a warm ocean wave carrying her to shore. “I’m thinking about what a lucky woman I am.”
“No, I’m the lucky one. I’ve got the best job in the world, being your husband. I get to make you happy for the rest of my life.” He brushed a kiss on her cheek. “I love you, Mariah.”
“I love you.” Her entire soul ached with bliss. Their happily-ever-after was written in the stars, she had no doubt. His love was a sheltering place for her heart…and would always be.
Dear Reader,
I am deeply grateful to Harlequin for inviting me to contribute a story for their More Than Words program. It’s wonderful to work for a publisher that puts its money where its heart is and strives to make a difference for women everywhere. So it was my pleasure to be a part of this collection and honor volunteer Mary Byberg and Nellie’s women’s shelter in Toronto, Canada.
Mary Byberg has been a longtime volunteer for Nellie’s. She was a board member. She gives unselfishly of her time and experience. She has raised two daughters, worked her way through school and earned her law degree. Impressive enough, right? But Mary also spends a large part of her life helping people, both in her capacity as a lawyer and in her work at Nellie’s. She is an impressive and kind lady, the sort of person you meet and are friends with for life. Mary is also a survivor of domestic violence.
Here are a few facts about domestic violence. One in three women in America has been physically or sexually abused by a boyfriend or husband in their lifetimes. Every nine seconds, a woman is beaten. Domestic violence affects one to three million women a year in the United States. More than three women a day are murdered by boyfriends or husbands. Sobering statistics, right? Behind each of one of these numbers is the face of a woman, hurting and alienated. The future must look bleak for this woman, who could be your neighbor or the lady you stood in line behind at the grocery store. It could even be you.
That’s where Nellie’s comes in. The shelter is an amazing organization of caring and talented people whose compassion extends to women and children from all walks of life. They provide emergency shelter and protection, they offer education and support from a woman’s first contact with the shelter to her long-term aftercare in the community. They are committed advocates dedicated to changing policies and being a voice for women and children who believe they do not have one.
Everyone deserves to be safe in a relationship. Every woman should be safe in her own home. For more information, see www.nellies.org. If you recognize yourself in the pages of Mariah’s story, I ask you to contact your local domestic violence shelter. Please be your own best friend.
I want to thank Mary for the chance to get to know her and hear her remarkable story. She is an example of the strength in all women to rise above the painful circumstances in their lives and find hope and joy again.
All my best,
Jillian Hart
In
Hooked
, bestselling author Betina Krahn honors the work of Donna Fischer, the Arizona program coordinator for Casting for Recovery, a national non-profit organization that runs fly-fishing retreats for women who have or have had breast cancer.
And in
Maxwell’s Smile
, Michele Hauf honors the work of the Barta sisters—Berni, Romi, Lexi and Marni Barta—and the not-for-profit organization that they founded, Kid Flicks.
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No One But You
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