Free The Calendar Brides by Ginny Baird Page B

the heat of the moment.”
    The manager dubiously twisted his lips. “I don’t see a ring.”
    Peter patted his shirt pocket. “Thanks, pal.” Peter grinned. “I knew I’d forgotten something.”
     
    Then, to Haley’s amazement, he pulled out a box. A little teeny box, the sort that comes from jewelry stores.
    She couldn’t hide her surprise. “You planned this? I thought it was all last-minute?”
    Peter turned to the manager, who watched with interest. “Do you mind? Only a couple more minutes.”
    The older man nodded at Haley before turning away. “Congratulations.”
    When they were finally alone—well, not technically alone, but at least not that close to anybody—Peter said, “You’re not the only one who can plan, you know. I thought this one through.”
    He opened the box and Haley’s heart soared. The most gorgeous white gold ring stared up at her and it housed an enormous diamond. “Oh, Peter, it’s…incredible.”
    He slipped it from its cushion. “Try it on for size.”
    She held out her finger and it easily slid on.
    “How does it feel?”
    In truth, it felt a little loose, but she’d never in a million years tell him. Instead, she said, “Like it was made just for me.”
    “That’s because it was.” His green eyes sparkled. “The band belonged to my great-aunt Caroline. It was her wedding ring and she left it to me.”
    Haley temporarily removed the ring to examine it more closely. “So it’s an antique?”
    “The ring part is. I bought the diamond brand new and had the ring assembled. Caroline was very special. She taught me how to ride a bike, and to skateboard, too.”
    “You did say great-aunt ?”  
    “She was old but feisty.”
    Haley laughed. “Sounds a lot like Nona.”
    “Yeah. And she had a long and happy marriage. I remember my great-uncle Stan. He had tons of energy, too. They used to do crazy things together. Even went skydiving in their eighties.”
    “Wow.”
    Haley slid the ring back on her finger. Happy—oh, so happy—with how it looked sitting right there below her knuckle. She extended her hand to admire it anew. “I totally love the ring, but I’m not so sure about skydiving.”
    “Come on now.”
    “Now, yes…maybe. But at eighty?”
    Peter chuckled and kissed the back of her hand. The one wearing the ring. “I really wish that you’d known her. Aunt Caroline would have liked you a lot.”
    “I’m sure I would have loved her back.”
    He held her gaze and his eyes shone. “I’m so glad you said yes.”
    “I’m so glad that you asked me.”
    “So, the ring? It’s all right? We don’t need to get it sized or anything?”
    “It’s perfect,” she said, meaning it absolutely. “I’ll cherish it forever.”
     
     

 
     
    Chapter Seven
     
    Bev
     
    Bev studied her reflection in the triple mirror, pivoting to examine the drape of the dress. It was stunning with a beaded-pearl train. The only problem was its low scoop neck. “Don’t you have anything with a higher collar?” she asked over the dressing room wall.
    The attendant, who’d brought her an array of choices in approximately her size, responded that she’d go check.
    Bev brought her fingers to the jagged red scar with a frown. It was just above her collarbone, a rude reminder of her one unhappy memory from Rome. She’d never told her family about the incident. She was just grateful she’d lived through it.
    Bev had gone to the police, but they weren’t much help. Since she hadn’t gotten a look at the perpetrators’ faces, they had no real descriptions to go by. Two men had accosted her on motorbikes, one on either side, while she’d traversed a narrow street. She’d worn a small purse in a diagonal line across her torso, hanging from her right shoulder. It was the sort many European women carried at the time, and she never kept much of value in it. She’d heard the roar of the bikes speed toward her, but before she could turn or run she’d seen something glinting