One Week With Her Husband (Eden Manor Book 3) Read online

  One Week with her Husband

  Eden Manor, Book Three

  Noelle Adams

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 by Noelle Adams. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means.

  Contents

  Monday

  Tuesday

  Wednesday

  Thursday

  Friday

  Saturday

  Sunday

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Fooling Around

  About Noelle Adams

  Monday

  On Monday morning, Cassandra had to see her husband for the first time in three years.

  To the rest of the world, Silas Vance was her ex-husband, but they’d never actually gotten divorced. He’d flat-out refused a divorce, and back then she’d been too sad and exhausted to mess with the legal proceedings necessary to make it happen without his agreement. So she’d accepted a separation for the time being, warning him that eventually they would have to make it official.

  Now was the time.

  Silas was going to have to divorce her, whether he wanted to or not.

  But first she had to go and talk to him. It wasn’t as easy as it sounded.

  She’d vowed to get the conversation over with on Monday, but she’d made an appointment first thing that morning at Grounded to delay the inevitable for at least an hour or so. As she walked into the local coffee shop, she felt a wave of poignant familiarity. She and Silas had come here often when they were in high school, and it smelled exactly the same, although it had been redecorated at least twice in the intervening years.

  Last year, the owners had redone the coffee shop again, creating a cool, rustic vibe and displaying work from local artists, including a couple of Cassandra’s framed landscape paintings and a mural they’d commissioned from her. She walked over to the wall where she’d painted an only slightly sentimentalized reflection of the main street of Brighton, their small town in North Georgia.

  Chuck, the owner of Grounded, was standing there next to an attractive young woman with glasses and dark hair almost as long as Cassandra’s, whose medium brown hair reached her waist.

  “Cassandra,” Chuck said with a grin. “Come on over! Can I get you some coffee?”

  “No. Thank you.” Cassandra gave the other woman her professional smile. “I’m Cassandra Vance. You must be Ms. Blake.”

  “Call me Kelly, please.” Kelly shook her hand, smiling rather ruefully. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’ve been admiring your mural here for the last month, ever since I came in the first time.”

  Cassandra was pleased to see that this young woman was both friendly and genuine. She’d more than once had to suck up to snooty people who were interested in her art, so it was always nice to find a potential buyer who she could actually get along with. “I’m so glad you like it. It’s the first and only mural I’ve ever painted.”

  “Well, my husband and I were actually hoping you might be persuaded to do another.” Kelly’s eyes moved from Cassandra to the mural on the wall. “We bought Eden Manor a few months ago, and we’re turning it into a bed and breakfast.”

  “That’s what Chuck said. I love that old place.”

  “We do too. Anyway, we had this idea for the dining room. We dug up some old photographs of the place back when it was originally built, and there was a painting on the ceiling of the dining room.”

  “Was there really? One of those sappy Victorian cherub scenes or something?” Cassandra cringed inwardly, as soon as she said the word. What if Kelly liked those old-fashioned, saccharine scenes? She might have just insulted her taste.

  “Yeah. It looks like it was a scene of heaven opening up. It’s really cool, but we don’t want to recreate it. We want to do something different.”

  Relieved she hadn’t offended the other woman, Cassandra smiled again. “What were you thinking?”

  “We were thinking about a painting of the sky—nothing too crazy and elaborate. We thought it might be a nod to the history of the place but not be too over-the-top for, uh, modern tastes. We definitely don’t want any chubby angel babies flying around on our ceiling.”

  “A sky scene sounds like a good compromise.”

  Kelly gave Cassandra a careful look, as if checking for signs about whether she was really interested. “I asked Chuck about the mural, and he told me who did it. Then he called me up last week to tell me you were in town. I know you live in New York, and you might need to be getting back soon. Would you have any time and interest in doing our project?”

  “I really don’t know,” Cassandra replied honestly. “I mean, I’d love to do it. But I’d have to see the space and get a better sense of your expectations and budget before I could let you know if it was doable in the time I have.”

  She didn’t really have a pressing deadline for getting back to New York. She was living with a college friend, since there was no way she could afford living in New York otherwise. She’d been working as a barrista to earn enough money to live on, but she’d had to quit that job in order to take two weeks off to come home.

  The truth was she wasn’t all that excited about going back, and getting paid to paint a mural would give her a good excuse to extend her time at home.

  “Oh, I’m so glad you’d even consider it. You can stop by Eden Manor any time you get a chance in the next few days. We have workers coming in and out all the time, so it wouldn’t be any trouble, whenever you can make it out there. Then we could talk about budget and logistics, if you think it’s something you could do.” Kelly looked excited, like she was brimming with the possibility.

  At her expression, a wave of pride and pleasure washed over Cassandra. She was used to people being polite about her work, and she’d heard more than her share of criticism and empty compliments. But this kind of sincere enthusiasm made her feel the best—as if she genuinely had something to offer other people.

  She decided right then that, if they were able to pay her enough, she was going to do this mural. She could create something beautiful and special, something that would last, something for people who would really appreciate it. They’d have guests who would come in and see it—and maybe some of them would ask about it and want to commission work of their own from her.

  Plus, it would mean she could stay in Brighton longer—and not have to go back to New York at the end of the week.

  She was supposed to be starting over, as soon as she got the divorce from Silas, but she liked being home, so a fresh start could wait a little longer.

  If there had been any potential to make a living here with her art, she might not have moved at all.

  She talked to Kelly a little longer and made arrangements to stop by Eden Manor the next afternoon. And she was feeling good when she left Grounded and headed to her mother’s car, which she’d borrowed for the day, since she’d sold her car before she’d moved to New York.

  This was good. She was feeling confident. She would need it for her trip out to Silas’s cabin, which she had to do right now.

  To see Silas, she would need all the confidence she could get.

  ***

  Cassandra tapped on her horn three times as she turned onto the dirt drive that led through the woods to Silas’s cabin.

  The cabin had originally belonged to Silas’s grandfather, who’d used it for fishing and hunting weekends, but Silas had eventually inherited it and built his workshop r
ight next to it. When they were teenagers, they’d snuck away to the cabin a lot to be alone, and they’d spent many weekends here after they’d gotten married.

  Cassandra had a whole collection of vivid memories of the cabin, and most of those memories were good.

  They made her chest ache as she parked the car at the end of the driveway and took a few deep breaths.

  Silas would have heard her honking. She’d always honked that way when she’d come by to visit him while he worked. He knew she was in town this week. Vanessa, the contractor he sometimes worked for and the widow of his best friend, had told him when she’d dropped by to see him about a job last week. He would guess it was Cassandra driving up now.

  She didn’t want to surprise him, and not just because he’d never taken surprises very well and always gotten grumpy. Given the tools he worked with, surprising him could be dangerous.

  She waited a minute to see if he’d come out of the workshop, the way he used to when she’d stop by to visit. When he didn’t make an appearance, she made herself get out of the car.

  She smoothed out a few wrinkles in her skirt and a few flyaways in her hair. When she’d checked herself out in the mirror earlier today, she’d looked fresh and pretty with her clear skin and blue eyes, but she felt kind of messy now. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so nervous—not even when a decent gallery in New York had included one of her paintings in an exhibit.

  She had to be brave now, though. She couldn’t let this go on any longer. It wasn’t good for either of them—staying married like this when they were no longer living as a couple.

  They needed to get divorced. Silas would just have to accept it.

  After taking another deep breath, she called out, “Silas?” as she walked toward the door of his workshop.

  He didn’t answer, but she didn’t really expect him to. He’d never liked to talk while he was working.

  Some days, he hadn’t said more than a few words—even to her.

  He was introverted by nature, and this had been compounded by the way he was raised. He’d spent most of his childhood with his stoic, hardworking grandparents, since his father had taken off shortly after getting his mother pregnant, and his mother had been too immature to settle down and take care of a son. His grandparents had been good people, but they’d never been openly affectionate.

  “It’s Cassandra,” she said, speaking loudly so she’d be heard through the door. “I’m coming in!”

  When there was still no answer, she opened the door and was immediately washed with the poignantly familiar scent of iron and coal and flame. It smelled like Silas. She used to love it.

  He was holding a blow torch and working on what appeared to be a delicately crafted wrought iron railing. His dark beard was longer than it had been when she’d last seen him three years ago, but otherwise he looked the same. Big and strong and rough and beautiful.

  She stood near the door without speaking until he turned the blow torch off. He was touching up one of the joints, so she kept waiting until he finally put down his tools and turned toward her.

  “What d’you want?” he demanded, his face showing no expression at all.

  She raised her eyebrows. “What do you think I want?”

  “No.”

  And that was it. He turned his back on her and leaned over to inspect the railing he’d just been working on.

  She gasped in indignation but made herself control it. Getting angry didn’t work with Silas—not when he was like this. His stubbornness had always been as hard and impenetrable as stone. Nothing could move him when he’d made up his mind except for incredibly careful, skillful maneuvering.

  She walked over to where he stood, refusing to be intimidated by his size and physicality. He was six inches taller than her, and the breadth of his shoulders and chest made her feel tiny, even though she wasn’t.

  “You said no three years ago,” she murmured, speaking softly on purpose. “I accepted it then because I just couldn’t deal with any more fighting. But I told you that I wasn’t going to accept it forever. Now’s the time. We have to get divorced.”

  He turned his head just slightly, his gray eyes smoldering with something strong. “You’ve met someone?”

  “That isn’t the point. The point is I’m not going to stay married any longer to someone who refuses to be a husband to me.”

  “You’re the one who left.”

  “Only because you made it impossible for me to stay with you.” She still felt sick at the memories of so many arguments in which he’d refused to budge, so many times Silas had just walked away from her, when she was trying desperately to connect with him, to get him to open up. In the end, he’d barely talked to her at all, and he’d spent nights in this cabin instead of their little house in town. “I can see that nothing has changed in that regard. You don’t want to be with people, which means you don’t want to be with me. If we can’t be married, then we have to get divorced. And I’m not going to let it go on any longer.”

  She was pleased with the clarity and control of her words. She didn’t sound emotional or impatient or angry, despite the flood of feeling in her chest. The minute she conveyed any sort of strong feeling, Silas would gain the advantage on her.

  “If you haven’t met someone, then a piece of paper shouldn’t matter,” Silas muttered, still examining the iron joint as if it were the most important thing in the world.

  She happened to focus on his left hand and suddenly realized he was still wearing his wedding ring. She’d given him back her rings three years ago, and she hadn’t seen them since. But he still had his wedding band on his left hand.

  The sight was surprising and disorienting and made her more emotional than ever.

  She finally managed to reply to his last comment. “It matters to me. I need to really start again, and I can’t if I’m still married to you.”

  “You already did start again. In New York. Isn’t it what you always dreamed of?”

  Life in New York wasn’t what she’d dreamed of. It wasn’t even what she’d been hoping for in a more mature and reasoned way. She wasn’t sure she wanted to live there anymore, but she also didn’t know if she could move back here, when Silas was still around.

  “Again...that’s not the point,” she replied calmly. “I’ve talked to a lawyer, you know. I’d like to do this amicably, for both our sakes, but we can do it the other way, if you’re going to be stubborn.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “Yes. It’s a threat.”

  He met her eyes, and she managed not to flinch, although she knew most people ended up turning away from Silas when he glared at them like that.

  For just a moment, she thought she saw something else in his eyes—something vulnerable, hurt, broken. She knew that, despite his appearance, he was neither heartless nor ruthless. He could be very tender and sensitive, although he’d hardened over the years.

  No matter what else had happened between them, she didn’t want to hurt him.

  So her voice was gentler as she continued, “You know it’s for the best, Silas. Obviously, nothing has changed between us, which means we can’t live together as man and wife.”

  “You haven’t seen me in three years. You don’t know if that’s true or not.”

  Despite her best efforts, she was starting to get frustrated. “Of course, I know it’s true. I can clearly see that nothing has changed. You’re completely closed off to other people, to me. You can’t really be with someone else when you’re closed off this way.” She took a shaky breath. “Silas, you know very well that you can’t give me what I need.”

  His shoulders tensed, and his spine stiffened dramatically. It was like she’d just punched him in the face.

  Cassandra gasped and raised a hand to her chest. “That’s not what I meant! Silas, you know that’s not what I meant. I meant everything. I wasn’t talking about a baby.”

  “You still want a baby, though, don’t you?” The words were rough
and stilted.

  “Yes, of course.” Her eyes burned with tears she managed to keep from falling.

  “And I can’t give you that.”

  “I know that. But I never needed a baby, Silas. I needed for you to open up to me, to be a real husband, and you stopped doing that. You know this was never about a baby.”

  For a moment, it had felt like they’d really been talking, but now she’d lost him again. He looked away from her, and his entire demeanor made it clear she wasn’t welcome.

  She sighed. “I want a divorce, Silas. A real one this time. I’m here for the rest of the week, and you’re going to have to agree before I leave town again. You might as well just accept it. Otherwise, I’ll be out here to bug you every day, and I know you don’t want that.”

  Again, he didn’t answer.

  She shook her head. “Ignoring it isn’t going to work. By the end of the week, you’re going to agree to this divorce, whether you want it or not.”

  No answer yet again.

  “I don’t know why you think acting like this is going to get me to stay married to you,” she said, resignation strong in her voice. “If you’d wanted to stay married, there was a pretty easy way for you to do that.”

  This made him look up at her. “What’s that?”

  “You could have talked to me,” she said, amazed that she had to explain this. “You could have acted like you wanted me around. You could have told me what you were thinking. You could have stopped pushing me away. I didn’t leave you because I wanted to, you know.”

  He stared at her with a frozen expression on his face that she didn’t understand. She waited, but he didn’t say anything. Not a word.

  With a sigh, she turned around and walked away. She really shouldn’t have expected any other response—at least, not on the first day. She’d come back out tomorrow morning, after Silas had had time to think about it. He really wasn’t a bad man—and he normally wasn’t a selfish man. He’d just been hurt too much a few years ago, when they’d discovered he was incapable of fathering children and then Carl, his best friend since childhood, had died. He’d pulled inward and hardened himself so much she just couldn’t get through.