Melinda’s heart was racing. She’d admired Ben in high school. He was a flawless package of sheer masculinity.
“What in the blazes do you call this?”
Her caller was shaking the morning newspaper under her nose.
Local Businessman To Marry Childhood Sweetheart.
Beneath the headline, Melinda caught a glimpse of her name coupled with Ben’s. The words were too familiar to ignore. No wonder he was so angry. It was what she deserved for giving in to a wedding fantasy and choosing him for the groom.
She was going to faint. Before she could fall, Ben caught her. Even through her distress, she felt herself respond to his touch.
Melinda sagged in his arms. “I have no idea how that got in there!”
But she did. She did.
Dear Reader,
Come join us for another dream-fulfilling month of Harlequin American Romance! We’re proud to have this chance to bring you our four special new stories.
In her brand-new miniseries, beloved author Cathy Gillen Thacker will sweep you away to Laramie, Texas, hometown of matchmaking madness for THE LOCKHARTS OF TEXAS. Trouble brews when arch rivals Beau and Dani discover a marriage license—with their names on it! Don’t miss The Bride Said, “I Did?”!
What better way to turn a bachelor’s mind to matrimony than sending him a woman who desperately needs to have a baby? Mindy Neff continues her legendary BACHELORS OF SHOTGUN RIDGE miniseries this month with The Horseman’s Convenient Wife—watch Eden and Stony discover that love is anything but convenient!
Imagine waking up to see your own wedding announcement in the paper—to someone you hardly know! Melinda has some explaining to do to Ben in Mollie Molay’s The Groom Came C.O.D., the first book in our HAPPILY WEDDED AFTER promotion. And in Kara Lennox’s Virgin Promise, a bad boy is shocked to discover he’s seduced a virgin. Will promising to court her from afar convince her he wants more than one night of passion?
Find out this month, only from Harlequin American Romance!
Best wishes,
Melissa Jeglinski
Associate Senior Editor
The Groom Came C.O.D.
Mollie Molay
For Harrison Ty Bauer.
Now there are eight. Welcome.
After working for a number of years as a logistics contract administrator in the aircraft industry, Mollie Molay turned to a career she found far more satisfying—writing romance novels. Mollie lives in Northridge, California, surrounded by her two daughters and eight grandchildren, many of whom find their way into her books. She enjoys hearing from her readers and welcomes comments. You can write to her at Harlequin Books, 300 East 42nd St., 6th Floor, New York, NY 10017.
HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE
560—FROM DRIFTER TO DADDY
597—HER TWO HUSBANDS
616—MARRIAGE BY MISTAKE
638—LIKE FATHER, LIKE SON
682—NANNY & THE BODYGUARD
703—OVERNIGHT WIFE
729—WANTED: DADDY
776—FATHER IN TRAINING
799—DADDY BY CHRISTMAS
839—THE GROOM CAME C.O.D
Miss Melinda Carey
and
Mr. Ben Howard
are pleased to invite you to their wedding on
Saturday, August 5
at 8 p.m.
at the Oak Tree Distillery, Ojai, California.
Proudly giving their niece and nephew
in marriage are
Miss Bertilda Blanchard
and
Mr. Joseph Howard.
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Epilogue
Melinda Carey skimmed the dismal financial data on her computer screen. There was no doubt about it—the bridal shop was slowly but surely sliding into a sea of red ink.
It was the second week in June—traditionally, the most popular time for weddings. A time when romantic hearts and minds were supposed to turn to thoughts of weddings, home, hearth and family. But what should have been the shop’s busy season looked as if it were going to be the slowest month of the year.
August, the second most popular month, didn’t look as if it were going to be an improvement. And no matter how difficult it was to face, the rest of the year looked alarmingly bare.
“It wasn’t supposed to be this way,” Melinda muttered as she changed screens to check future bookings. Not in the bridal business, anyway. Things had been different before local brides had decided to shop in nearby Santa Barbara.
The screen told the story; after years of comfortable income, Bertie’s Bridal Shop and Bridal Referral Service hung precariously on the brink of bankruptcy.
Melinda gazed out the window at the small park across the street. Newly watered spring greenery sparkled under the bright morning sunshine. Red, purple and white petunias lined gravel paths. Rose bushes displayed all their glory.
She’d always loved the little walk-in park. She’d fantasized about getting married under the weeping willow tree that hung gracefully over the newly painted white gazebo. Fat chance. The way her life was headed, her dream didn’t have a chance.
It hadn’t been for the lack of a suitor, she thought sadly. She’d been engaged to the man she’d worked for in San Francisco, and they were about to set the wedding date. Luckily, she’d discovered Paul was self-centered and self-serving before it was too late.
Now there was her Aunt Bertie to consider. What man in his right mind would want to take on a thirty-something spinster and her fey aunt—Ojai’s beloved town character?
She willed the figures on the monitor to change. Instead, they remained solidly in the red. Not even the bridal referral service she’d started a few months ago managed to turn red ink into black. With no ready answers to the financial problems facing her, her thoughts wandered.
She was thirty, almost thirty-one. Single, with no prospective groom in sight. Let alone a man she was attracted to. Her biological clock was ticking loudly. Loudly enough to keep her awake at night. Almost without deliberate thought, her fingers surfed the Net, creating a dream wedding of her own.
No groom? No problem. Her bridal referral library service had access to every possible item a bride could want. After all, this was a harmless fantasy, wasn’t it?
Her fingers raced over the computer keys and clicked onto a dating service Web site. In seconds, she was looking at photographs of men available to “rent” for all occasions. Including that of a stand-in groom for wedding rehearsals. She gasped as she took a second look at a new entrant, tall, athletic, blue-eyed Ben Howard.
He was an older version of the boy she’d had a secret crush on in high school. The school’s top athlete, Ben had been the handsome hero of every young girl’s dream. Including hers.
Drawn to him in a way that still made her blush, she couldn’t take her eyes off the screen. To her dismay, his eyes seemed to bore into hers with a message she found herself responding to. The faint smile that hovered at his lips sent heat rushing through her middle.
Her hormones raced as she recalled the single dance they’d shared at a high school Sadie Hawkins Day party years ago, when the girls chose their partners instead of waiting to be asked. At the time, he was the high school’s star basketball player. She had been a silent, adoring fan.
Even today, she could feel his strong arms around her as he whirled her around the dance floor. She’d been lost in a dream world—until he’d planted a chaste kiss on her forehead and told her he’d see her around.
Twelve years later, here he was again. And although he was only a photograph on a screen, he was still the man of her choice. She studied his image wistfully.
She’d heard he’d gotten married and divorced while he was still in college. Maybe that was the reason there was something about the determined look in his eyes and the edge in his body language that told her he’d turned into a no-nonsense type, definitely not given to indulging in romantic dreams. For sure, he’d changed from the laughing young boy she remembered to the sober, socially prominent and wealthy distillery owner.
What was he doing on a dating Web site?
Still, there he was. Large as life—and for hire. Since this was only a fantasy, she chose him. No one would ever know.
The date of the ceremony? The sooner the better. With an eye on the calendar, she chose a date one month away.
The location? The small walk-in park, of course.
The wedding dress? No problem there, either. A simple three-quarter-length sheer silk slip-dress with pink and pale-green hand-embroidered flowers and a matching jacket from the bridal shop. A simple wreath of pink roses for her hair.
The minister? The Reverend Charles Good, a long-time friend of Aunt Bertie’s.
Deep in her fantasy, she included a caterer to provide a picnic lunch of turkey sandwiches, fresh veggies, fruit and cookies.
Flowers? The local nursery to provide gardenia bushes.
Her excitement grew as she drafted and “sent” an announcement to the local newspaper.
The telephone rang. “Melinda!” a plaintive female voice moaned. “You’re never going to believe what’s happened! You’ve got to do something to help me!”
With her eyes on the monitor screen, Melinda asked absently, “What’s wrong, Sue Ellen? Your wedding is all taken care of. There can’t be anything left to worry about.”
“Frank is allergic to live flowers!”
Melinda’s fingers froze above the computer keys. “He can’t be! Not at a time like this! Your wedding is only two days away!”
“He is! He couldn’t breathe when I took him to the flower shop this morning to show him the flowers I ordered for the church! I thought he was going to faint! When I finally got him into the fresh air, he told me he’s allergic to all kinds of flowers!”
With Sue Ellen Fry’s wedding only two days away, Melinda knew she had to move fast. She improvised mentally. “Don’t worry. I’m sure I can locate enough silk flowers here and in Santa Barbara to decorate the church!”
“But my bridal bouquet! And the bridesmaids’ bouquets!” her caller wailed. “I can’t get married without flowers!”
“I’ll think of something for you and the bridesmaids. And for Frank to wear in his lapel. Don’t worry, Sue Ellen. I’ll take care of everything. Just make sure you and Frank are at the church on time.”
She hurriedly set her fantasy wedding aside to turn her attention to the problems confronting a real-life bride.
A quick trip out of town was clearly in order.
The pounding on the front door was loud enough to wake Sleeping Beauty.
Still groggy after a weekend spent scrounging for every silk flower arrangement within a fifty-mile range of Ojai, Melinda stopped in mid-stride on her way to the kitchen. Thank goodness she was invisible to whomever was determined to break down the door. Maybe the caller would give up and go away if she didn’t answer.
She was frazzled. She’d been coping with a wedding featuring a disappointed bride, an allergic groom and eight bridesmaids who couldn’t seem to understand why they had to carry small white prayer books decorated with sprays of silk lilies of the valley.
Footing the extra cost for silk flowers hadn’t helped. She had to figure out a way to return the live flowers so she wouldn’t lose the slim profit Bertie’s Bridal Shop would eventually realize on the wedding.
The pounding on the door escalated. So did her headache. Her eyes misted with pain. She couldn’t take much more.
She glanced at her watch; it was barely eight o’clock—the shop downstairs wasn’t scheduled to open for another hour. For that matter, she wasn’t properly dressed for company. Considering the monster of a headache she was nursing, whomever was out there would have to wait until she had a cup of hot, ink-black coffee to clear her head.
The pounding became frantic. In the background she could hear a male voice—swearing? That tore it! The last thing she needed to cope with right now was an impatient salesman. Anyone who didn’t have the sense to realize it was too early to do business with her was out of luck, and she intended to tell him so.
She tied her sleeveless white shirt in a knot at her waist. Made sure her favorite old denim cutoffs covered her bottom and threw open the door.
The next thing she knew, her caller was shaking the morning newspaper under her nose.
“What in the blazes do you call this?”
“I’m afraid there’s been some mistake. I haven’t reported a missing paper, but thank you anyway.” She would have hollered back and given him a dose of his own medicine but someone was pounding on an iron anvil in her head. She started to close the door, but his foot was in the way.
“Of course not! I found your copy on your doorstep!” He thrust the open paper at her.
Ignoring the paper, she looked into eyes that seemed vaguely familiar. “Ben? Ben Howard?”
She gulped as she peered through her pain. The scar at the corner of the caller’s lips was white, his eyes breathed fire. What was Ben Howard, the premier bachelor of Ojai, doing pounding on her door at eight o’clock in the morning? She closed her eyes and counted to ten. Maybe he would go away.
It didn’t seem to help. Her heart was pounding too fast, and it wasn’t from anger. She’d admired Ben years ago in high school and on the dating Web site, but her reaction to his electronic presence paled now that they were face-to-face again. He was a flawless package of sheer masculinity and the last man she expected to see on her doorstep.
“Who else did you think it would be after the wedding announcement I found in the paper?”
Melinda swallowed hard. An uneasy feeling swept over her. This was definitely not a social visit. She took a step backward and tried to hide between a wall of affronted dignity. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s obviously been some mistake.”
“Oh, there’s been a mistake all right, and it looks as if you made it!” He elbowed his way through the door. “I want to know the meaning behind this!”
She suppressed a moan of pain and took another step backward. “I’m sorry, but I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Like hell you don’t!” He pointed an accusing finger at the offending article.
Melinda willed herself to remain calm. Maybe if she read the article he would leave. She reached for the paper and squinted at the offending article: Local Businessman To Marry Childhood Sweetheart.
Beneath the headline, she caught a glimpse of her name coupled with his. The words were too familiar to ignore. No wonder he was so angry. It was what she deserved for giving in to a wedding fantasy and choosing him for the groom.
The pounding in her head became stronger than ever. She closed her eyes and felt ready to faint from pain. Before she could fall, Ben caught her. Even through her distress, she felt herself respond to his scent of coffee and masculine anger.
Melinda sagged in his arms. She felt like a Raggedy Ann doll, but she matched him glare for glare. He didn’t seem intimidated, so she handed him back the newspaper. “I have no idea how that got in there!” But, she did. She did.
“If you don’t know who put this in the newspaper, who does?” He read the article out loud while she fought for a sensible answer.
“Melinda Carey, I guess that’s you,” he said with a cold glance, “a former local resident who recently returned to take up residence in our little community with her well-known aunt, Bertilda Blanchard, has announced her engagement and upcoming marriage to Benjamin Howard.
“Ms. Carey assists her aunt in managing Bertie’s Bridal Shop and its Bridal Referral Service. Mr. Howard is a prominent vintner and owner of the Oak Tree Brandy Distillery.” He stopped long enough to scowl.
“The Carey-Howard nuptials are scheduled for July 4th and will be celebrated outdoors in Sunlight Park on Main Street.”
He lowered the paper and peered at Melinda.
“There’s more of this garbage, and what I think of it doesn’t bear repeating.” He glared. “Why pick on me? I don’t even know you!”
To her growing discomfiture, his gaze roved over her bare legs, worked its way up past her thighs to her bare midriff and to her flaming cheeks. He paused. “Or do I?”
Melinda fought a growing dismay and a faint sense of déjà vu. Childhood sweethearts? Ben Howard hadn’t spoken to her in years, let alone qualified as a sweetheart. He’d never even held her in his arms—except for the one memorable high school dance they’d shared years ago. He probably didn’t remember that, either.
They hadn’t been close, not when they were in high school, and definitely not now. She tried to think of an alibi, but all she could think of was the wedding fantasy she’d been toying with on her computer. She couldn’t possibly have put it into action, could she?
“Maybe it’s just overzealous reporting?” she ventured into his scowl.
He didn’t look as if he were buying the explanation, but the way he was eyeing her was another matter.
She tried to ignore him and went back to her mental drawing board.
A wedding at her favorite park across the street?
Her thoughts flew back to her computer musings. She couldn’t have! Oh no! She’d done the unthinkable! She stared at Ben uneasily. What would he do if she confessed to fooling around with a wedding fantasy on her computer? That she’d found him on a dating Web site and had chosen him as her groom because she’d never quite gotten over her crush on him.
“So, do I know you?”
“Er…sort of.” She smiled weakly. “I’m Melinda Carey. We were in high school together.” He shook his head. “I was a junior, you were a senior.”
She closed her eyes and steeled herself for another blast of anger. When none came, she slowly opened her eyes. To her chagrin, he was regarding her with a hint of masculine approval.
“You sure have a great imagination, Melinda Carey. I’ll give you that much.” He studied her meaningfully until goose bumps rose at the back of her neck. “How could I have managed to forget you?”
She found herself staring back at him. His eyes were the blue of memory, only deeper and wiser. He’d matured into a tall, athletic man; he was even more sexy as a grown-up than he’d been as a boy. He’d been the subject of her dreams when she was a teenager. Now that she was older and more experienced, he was still the man she dreamed of.
Her youthful crush on him had been a boy-girl thing, an infatuation with the high school’s star athlete. What she felt for him now was pure woman-man attraction.
As if that wasn’t enough, one moment he was fit to be tied over some stupid mistake she’d made, and the next moment he was sending her a male seal of approval!
“Probably because you were too busy with that blond cheerleader who took you to that Sadie Hawkins dance,” she retorted before she stopped to think. At the look that came into his eyes, she could have bitten her tongue. How could she have said something so inane? So stupid? If he didn’t already think something was wrong with her, he was sure to think so now.
His eyebrows rose, a smile curved at his lips. “Ah, Melinda Carey, I may have forgotten you,” he said suggestively, “but it looks as if you haven’t forgotten me.”
She felt herself flush.
“Is that why you put the wedding announcement in the paper? To get even with me ten years later? And why pick now?”
She took a deep breath and started over. “No, of course not. I don’t even know why I remembered the dance, or why I even mentioned it. I haven’t thought about the dance in years.”
He looked incredulous. “So why did you do it?”
“The truth is, I was fooling around planning a make-believe wedding on the Internet when I saw your photograph on a dating Web site. I figured if you were available for a date, you’d be available for an imaginary groom.”
If he’d looked angry before, he looked furious now.
“A dating Web site?” He reared back and frowned.
“No way! You’re putting me on!”
“It’s true, honest. I chose you for an imaginary wedding, not a real one. Why would I lie about it?”
“Beats me. You haven’t made any sense up until now, either. How could I get on a dating Web site without my knowledge?”
“I don’t know, but it was there,” she protested weakly. “All I did was choose you for my groom for my wedding fantasy when I saw your picture.”
“Why me?” he repeated. “You could have chosen anyone!”
Melinda thought rapidly. How could she tell him he’d been her idea of a perfect mate ever since she’d first laid eyes on him in high school? That she had even dreamed of him as a perfect husband and father? Or that when she’d seen his image, she jumped at the chance to make him her fantasy groom.
He looked angrier than ever. She hurried to put out the fire growing in his eyes. “I’m sorry about the announcement. I just realized I must have pressed the enter button on my computer by mistake after I was interrupted by a client. It doesn’t mean anything. After all, it was only a fantasy wedding.”
“A fantasy wedding? You’ve got to be kidding! Whose?”
“Mine,” she answered defiantly. “But I swear I didn’t intend to put it into action!”
“You didn’t mean to do it?” He waved the newspaper at her. “Hell! That’s a weak excuse considering the possible damage you’ve done.”
She continued to protest her innocence, all the time knowing she was as guilty as hell. “Well, it’s true. I told you it was unintentional! I pressed the enter button by mistake.”
His eyebrows rose until they met. She smiled weakly.
He examined her thoughtfully. Under his studied gaze, her hormones stood at attention. She self-consciously checked the buttons on her blouse.
“About this dating Web site thing,” he finally said. “How could you believe I would have agreed to anything so stupid?”
“Maybe not, but your picture’s there!”
“So, take it off!”
“Quit hollering,” she said, with a glance over her shoulder. “I keep telling you I didn’t put you on there! Why can’t you believe me?”
“Because you haven’t made any sense since I got here.” He lowered his voice, but his frustration showed. “In fact the whole story sounds as if you made it all up.”
“Kind of, but I’m in no condition to discuss this any further.” She gestured to the door. “I have a splitting headache, so if you don’t mind, I’d like to be alone.”
“Alone to do what? Create more havoc on your computer?”
“No, I intend to have several cups of strong, ink-black coffee. Then I’m going to get dressed and try to go to work. If you insist, I’ll get back to you later.”
“You mean that’s not your working outfit?” His gaze roamed over her with blatant honesty. It was obvious he liked what he saw and was man enough to show it. She shook her head and fought off an urge to cover herself. It was her territory, wasn’t it?
“Too bad.” He glanced at the mahogany staircase. “You live here?”
Melinda nodded carefully. “With my Aunt Bertie. She owns the shop.” The dull ache in her head had turned into a crescendo of pain. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her holding her head to keep it from falling off. Things were bad enough.
His gaze swung back to her. He glanced at the newspaper and raked his fingers through his hair. “I hope you realize you may have blown it big time. How are you going to get us out of this mess.”
“There is no ‘us,”’ she protested. “It was all a mistake. I’m sure everyone will understand when I tell them so. Now, please leave. I honestly can’t discuss this right now.”
He stepped closer, his now hard blue eyes bore into hers. “Well, I can. Why don’t you start at the beginning of this mess and give me the whole nine yards.”
“It’s a long story,” she said. “But honestly, I’m in no condition to discuss it. Not right now. I’ll get back to you.”
“You’re in no condition?” he barked. “You call it a mistake, but how do you think I feel? I’ve acquired a fiancée and a wedding date with a bride I don’t even know!”
“Please,” Melinda protested. She massaged her temples. “I have a terrible headache. You’ll have to wait. I’ll do something about it. I just don’t know what.”
Her heart skipped a beat when his gaze softened.
“Okay. I’m willing to compromise. Go ahead and have your coffee. But after you’re through I expect you to call the newspaper and retract the announcement. But I warn you, we’re not through talking.”
Melinda closed her eyes and swallowed hard. How could she carry on an intelligent conversation, let alone try to convince him she had all her marbles when she wasn’t all that sure herself? What she needed was to have time to figure out a way to undo the mess she was in.
So much for raging hormones.
Her head pounded. She tried to put one and one together. Before she’d left to rescue a client and her allergic fiancé, she must have pressed the enter button on her computer! Her fantasy wedding plans must have gone into action, including the newspaper announcement. She peered at Ben through a mist of pain. High school sweethearts, of all things! No wonder Ben looked ready to throttle her.
She was heartsick. How could she have gotten so careless as to chose Ojai’s most eligible bachelor for a fantasy husband—even by mistake?
Things got even worse when she envisioned the orders she must have placed and supplier’s cancellation penalties to follow. And, horror of horrors, the public apology it looked as if she would have to make before Ben was satisfied.
“As long as you insist, come on in the kitchen,” she said over her shoulder. “I’ll put on the coffee, but I don’t guarantee it won’t taste like mud.”
“Good! I could use something strong right now. You have no idea of the mess you’ve created or the attention I’m bound to get because of it.”
Sure, Melinda thought to herself. The number of disappointed women who had set their hopes on winning Ben for a husband were bound to be legion. Considering that he hadn’t been in a hurry to take any of them up on it, maybe he should have been grateful to her for getting him off the marriage market.
She was ready to tell him so when the sound of footsteps coming down the wooden stairs interrupted her. Her aunt Bertie tripped into the kitchen.
“Ah, there you are, Benjamin!” She cocked her head to one side and smiled at Ben and Melinda. “How sweet of you to come over early to see your fiancée.”
Fiancée? Ben hesitated. The word made his hackles rise, but considering who he was talking to, he bit back the words he was tempted to say. “Not really, Ms. Bertie. I came as soon as I discovered your niece and I had a lot to discuss.”
He felt himself blush like a teenager when she smiled and glanced at the newspaper crushed in his hand. “I must tell you how good I felt to see your pending wedding announcement in there! Frankly,” she said with an admiring glance at Ben, “I didn’t even know you and Melinda were seeing each other, let alone planning to wed. How romantic.”
Ben nodded politely, but his mind cringed at the timing of Bertie’s entrance. This was no time to finish reading Melinda the riot act. Nor was it a good time to insist she call the newspaper with a retraction. He’d have to wait until the excitement died down before he had a calm and serious heart-to-heart talk with her. Before he was through, she’d never pull a fool stunt like this again.
As for Bertie, she was a staunch supporter of the high school’s athletic teams and the basketball team just as he was. She’d baked her famous chocolate-chip cookies for the high school’s fund-raisers as far back as when he’d been a kid. He owed her respect.
Her niece—well, that was another story. He should have been angry with Melinda, but somehow he wasn’t any longer.
He glanced over at Melinda. In spite of her headache, with her blond hair caught back in a ponytail and dressed in a brief outfit that revealed as much as it concealed, she looked as fresh and pretty as a spring sunrise.
“I’m so happy for you both,” Bertie cried when he bit his lip. “Especially for you, Melinda. I know you tried to keep the wedding a secret, but the truth is that I’ve known about it since Friday.” She beamed proudly.
“How could you have known? I didn’t tell anyone!” Melinda’s heart took a dive at the innocent smile that came over her aunt’s face. The premonition she wasn’t going to like her aunt’s answer was as strong as the anvil beating in her head. “How did you find out?”
“Martha Ebbetts called me when she got the e-mail message.” She beamed at Ben. “I’m sure you know that Martha is the society editor of the Ojai Newsday. Anyway, Martha called here Saturday. When she heard Melinda wasn’t home she asked me for some filler for her article.”
“Filler?” Melinda gasped.
“Article, Ms. Bertie?”
“Yes, of course. Martha wanted to add some human interest to the announcement. I was thrilled to be able to oblige.”
“Aunt Bertie—you didn’t! Tell me you didn’t tell Martha anything!”
Ben glanced over at Melinda. The water in the coffeepot she held in her hand sloshed over the brim. Her face had turned white. Hell, she looked ready to faint again. He sprang into action, grabbed the glass coffeepot, put it on the sink and threw his arm around her shoulders. “Just what was it you told Martha Ebbetts, Ms. Bertie?”
Melinda’s aunt put a forefinger to her lips and appeared to think for a minute or two. By the time she was ready with an answer, he was a nervous wreck.
Pulsuz fraqment bitdi.