Fugitive Fiancée (18 page)

Three months later

J
OURNALISTS FLANKED
both sides of the cathedral, cameras in hand, as they waited for Austin's own runaway bride to come barreling out of the church. After all, Mimi Casville had made headlines with two botched marriage attempts already. Of course, this wasn't the same groom. But a marriage between one of the richest heiresses in Texas and a cowboy?

Not one of the cynical reporters there believed she'd go through with it. The
Austin American Statesman
had even run a poll and published it in yesterday's edition, with people voting two-to-one that the bride would make a run for it.

Two television vans, one staked out in front of the cathedral and one staked out in the back, let the engines idle so they could give chase when she made her escape.

The sanctuary itself was standing room only. Not one of the two hundred invited guests had turned down the invitation. Many of them were Maitlands, with spouses and children in tow. The family had grown large enough to take up a good portion of pew space. But none of the reporters had been allowed
inside. So they waited outside, idly chattering as the minutes ticked by.

A sudden commotion at the double glass doors of the cathedral brought them all to attention. A bride in a long white gown, her face covered by a lacy veil, flew out of the church. She raced down the concrete steps two at a time, her voluminous skirts clutched in her hand.

“There she is,” an excited reporter shouted. “Roll camera!”

“Hey, Mimi,” a cameraman called, awkwardly giving chase as she sprinted down the long sidewalk toward the street. “Take off your veil.”

The bride hopped into a flashy green convertible parked along the curb, switched on the ignition, then gave them a jaunty wave as she peeled out into the street.

The news vans followed. So did the journalists, half of them pulling out cell phones to call in the story. In two minutes, they were all gone.

Another minute passed, then the church bells began to ring. The pealing of joyful chimes filled the air as the doors opened wide and Mimi and Garrett hurried out of the church, ducking their heads to avoid the shower of rice raining down on them.

Once inside the white limousine, Garrett pulled Mimi onto his lap, pushing down the full organza skirt of her wedding gown and giving her a soul-searing kiss. “I wish we could just skip the reception and proceed straight to the honeymoon.”

“I know,” she said, resting her head on his broad shoulder. “But we have to be there for the grand opening of the LeeAnn Larrimore Mothers' Garden.”

Both she and Garrett had been touched by Megan Maitland's wedding present to them. A beautiful garden at the Maitland Maternity Clinic, dedicated to the Lord children's birth mother, LeeAnn Larrimore. It had been completed just in time to be the site of their wedding reception.

“I wouldn't miss it,” Garrett said, tracing one finger over her cheek. “I just wish…” His voice trailed off, and he looked distracted for a moment.

Mimi knew exactly what he was thinking. Despite the fact that he'd finally come to peace with his past, his mother's disappearance still gnawed at him. She hoped someday he would find the woman he could never forget.

Then his expression cleared, and a mischievous spark lit his eyes. “Are you ready for your wedding present, Mrs. Lord?”

“Say it again,” Mimi breathed. “Just the last part.”

“Mrs. Lord?”

“Hmm. I like the sound of it.”

He reached under the seat and brought up a square box wrapped in shiny gold paper and topped with a matching bow. “Then I hope you'll like this even better.”

She settled into his lap, then opened the box. Inside lay a red leather book with gilt-edged pages. Almost identical to the old journal she'd found in the barn. “Oh, Garrett. It's beautiful.”

“You can record every detail of our lives together.” He kissed her, breathing in her unique, evocative scent. “Well, maybe not
every
detail.”

She laughed, then looked at him, tears shining in
her eyes. “I love it. Our children will love it. And our grandchildren. And our great-grandchildren. It will be part of our legacy.”

“I hope you don't mind,” he said as the limo pulled up in front of the Maitland Maternity Clinic, “but I already filled out the last page.”

She opened the book to the last page. What she read there made the tears in her eyes overflow and spill down her cheeks. Written in Garrett's strong, distinctive script were these words,
Garrett and Mimi Lord lived happily ever after.

A knock on the shaded limousine window made them both jump. Garrett opened the door to find Bettina Collingsworth, still dressed in a white wedding gown.

“I don't know how we'll ever thank you for playing the decoy,” Garrett said, climbing out of the limo, then shaking her hand.

“The exclusive story is thanks enough.” The reporter beamed at them. “Now scoot, before those other reporters arrive and try to scoop me.”

Garrett and Mimi hurried around the Maitland Maternity Clinic to the back, where a quaint stone path led to a beautifully secluded garden.

Most of the wedding guests were already there, waiting with champagne toasts and good wishes. Then there was the wedding cake to cut and the tossing of the bouquet and garter. Garrett took his sweet time sliding her pink silk garter down her leg to the wolf whistles of the men in the crowd.

Mimi danced first with her husband, then with her father, who beamed with pride. A dance with Michael followed, then one with each one of the Maitland
men. After the tenth dance, she'd thrown her wedding shoes into the fountain and danced barefoot.

Two hours later, Mimi finally found some time to herself. Time to relish the happiest day of her life. She looked slowly around the beautiful LeeAnn Larrimore Mothers' Garden, a lump in her throat.

“Thank you, LeeAnn,” she said as the stone fountain bubbled behind her, “for loving your son enough to give him up. Otherwise, I might never have found him.”

“You're welcome.”

Mimi turned to see an old woman, stoop-shouldered and gray-haired, seated on the bench by the fountain. No, not old. Probably not more than fifty. But very frail. And obviously ill. Mimi found herself looking into eerily familiar eyes.

“Mrs. Larrimore?” she said at last, her knees shaky.

The woman nodded, then leaned forward and whispered, “Maybe I shouldn't have come. I just…I just wanted to see my children one last time.”

Mimi sat next to her on the bench. “I'm Mimi. Mimi Lord.”

“My little Garrett's wife.” The woman reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Would you mind introducing me to my son?”

Mimi smiled. Little Garrett was six feet, three inches of solid male. But obviously, in LeeAnn's eyes, he'd always be her little boy.

“Nothing would make me happier.” Mimi stood up, then helped LeeAnn Larrimore rise to her feet.

She found Garrett in the gazebo, with Michael, Shelby, and Lana gathered around him. Their laughter
echoed across the garden, and Mimi could hear a sob catch in the woman's throat.

“My babies.” LeeAnn leaned heavily on Mimi's arm as they stood outside the gazebo. “They're all grown up. They're all so beautiful.”

“I know they'll be happy to see you.”

“I almost died that day,” LeeAnn murmured, unable to take her eyes off her children. “The day I left them here. My husband had passed away three months before, and we were destitute.” She shook her head. “I tried to find work, but I didn't even have enough money to pay a baby-sitter. I tried to hang on as long as I could, but the triplets needed milk. Garrett had a terrible cough and needed medicine.”

She looked at Mimi with a plea for understanding in her eyes. “I couldn't sit back and watch my babies suffer.”

“I know,” Mimi said, her own mother's heart contracting painfully in her chest.

“I almost asked for them back.” LeeAnn's bony frame began to tremble. “I stood on the Lords' doorstep two years later. I had a good job. An apartment. Enough money to provide the basics. Then I heard voices and children's laughter in the backyard.” She stopped and swallowed hard. “One of the girls called Terrence Lord…
Daddy.

“It's so clear in my mind,” she continued, her voice wistful, “even after all these years.
‘Daddy, Daddy, push me higher.'
” She looked at her four adult children, laughing together in the gazebo. “And I did the second hardest thing I've ever done in my life. I walked away again.”

LeeAnn turned to Mimi, uncertainty clouding her eyes. “Was I wrong?”

“You loved them. That's never wrong.”

Awareness prickled the back of Mimi's neck. She looked into the gazebo and saw all four of the Lord children staring at her. Or rather, at the woman standing next to her.

She could see the battle of emotions reflected on their faces. Uncertainty. Confusion. Hope.

Reaching for LeeAnn's hand, she walked with her to the gazebo. The older woman stumbled once, then regained her balance and squared her shoulders, obviously preparing herself to face whatever reception awaited her.

Garrett, Michael, Shelby and Lana all just stared at her. Not one of them said a word. For one brief moment, Mimi feared they might turn away.

Then Garrett stepped forward. “Mama?”

LeeAnn Larrimore slowly opened her arms. In the blink of an eye, all four children were embracing her. Joyful sobs filled the air, some feminine, some masculine.

LeeAnn couldn't stop touching her children, caressing Lana's hair, wiping the tears off Shelby's cheeks, smoothing her hand over Michael's shoulder, tenderly cupping Garrett's square jaw in her palm.

“My babies,” LeeAnn cried over and over again. “My precious babies.”

Megan Maitland came up behind Mimi and wrapped her arm around her waist. They both stood back and watched the reunion with tears in their eyes.

Megan gave her an affectionate hug. “Don't you just love happy endings?”

“This isn't the end,” Mimi replied, her heart over-flowing with love for her husband and her new family. “It's just the beginning.”