Page 139 of Her Goal
“That would be Mrs. Roboveitchek.”
“Didn’t work out with husband number six?”
“Nope. This is husband number seven.”
I frown.
Hunter says, “She married our father.”
My eyes feel like they pop out of my head.
“I just found out two days ago. It took me that long to get ahold of her, but I figured she’d want to be at your wedding or at least know about it.”
I grunt.
Hunter lovingly grips his wife’s shoulder and says, “We were traveling and I was afraid you might turn me away after everything I did, so I didn’t want to announce that I was coming … figured I stood a better chance by showing up.” He shakes his head with dismay. “Hudson, I’m sorry for everything I did. I was a selfish, worthless?—”
I stop him because seeing him healthy and happy erases so much of the past. But our mother? We’ll see.
“Thanks. I see that you’re good. We’re good. But she married our father?”
He wears the same look of bewilderment that I feel blazing on my face.
“This should be interesting.”
“I told her to be on her best behavior.” Hunter sighs.
“How’d you find out about this?” I wave my hand at the general assembly.
“Leah Smith sent me a very pointed and strongly worded letter.” He winces. “Said if I didn’t show up, she’d hunt me down and—” He slices a line across his throat.
Thinking about our conversations in the last twenty-four hours, I ask, “When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
That means she never had cold feet or second thoughts. But maybe she was just afraid of rejection and the past. I stand up a little straighter. Wow, do I love this woman. Now and always.
From the door at the other end of the hallway comes a cackling laugh. Hunter and I exchange a glance. I have a ton of questions for him, but have a feeling Dara and becoming a father had a lot to do with him cleaning up and turning around his life.
They start down the hallway to take their seats among the congregation.
In Swedish, I whisper to her, “Thanks.”
She merely smiles, perhaps having no idea about Hunter’s sordid past. That’s probably for the best.
As the musicians start the opening song, and everyone takes their seats, the guys and I find our places at the front of the packed church. Leah’s family takes up a healthy three-quarters with the Knights and my mother—wearing what can only be described as a frock and a fascinator hat filled with feathers—filling in the rest. It’s outrageous. Beside her is a tall man with dark features and brown eyes. He’s easily my height and powerfully built. It’s not quite the same as looking at my twin, but there’s no mistaking that we share the same genes.
Getting married and meeting my father on the same day, not to mention the mother-brother reunion should be overwhelming. There’s a lot to catch up on, and I will, but what’s most remarkable is that Leah did this for me. My chest aches with love for her.
The music changes and it’s like everyone in the room holds their breath—me included—until the most radiant woman on the planet approaches me from the other end of the aisle.
My heart races. My breath disappears. My thoughts recede.
Leah is stunning.
The golden autumn sunlight streaming through the window seems to follow her as she marches down the aisle.
When Leah reaches me, she hugs her father and then takes my hand with a warm squeeze.
