"We should get inside," I say, putting my hand on the small of Lisa's back. "We don't want to be late."
"Of course, of course. Don't let me keep you." Hilda beams at us like she's personally responsible for this development. "I'll tell Bill to put a bottle of champagne on ice at the store. This calls for celebrating."
She bustles off toward her car, already pulling out her phone. Probably calling her sister Margaret, who will call her daughter Sarah, who will call three of her friends before we even make it inside the courthouse.
"Well," Lisa says, watching Hilda drive away. "I guess the whole town will know by noon."
"Probably by ten." I guide her toward the courthouse doors. "You ready for this?"
"No. But let's do it anyway."
The county clerk is a woman named Janet who's been working here since before I became sheriff. She's efficient, professional, and if she's surprised to see me getting a marriage license with Lisa, she doesn't show it.
"Congratulations," she says, sliding the forms across the counter. "You'll need to fill these out completely, both of you. Photo ID, proof of age, and the filing fee."
The paperwork is straightforward but somehow feels momentous. Writing my name next to Lisa's, seeing it officially documented that we intend to marry, makes something shift in my chest. Something that feels dangerously close to real.
Lisa fills out her section quickly, efficiently, but I notice her hand trembling slightly as she writes. Tommy is sitting on her lap, playing with a small toy she pulled from her purse, completely oblivious to the life-changing documents being completed around him.
When we're done, Janet reviews everything, stamps the license, and hands it back to us.
"You have ninety days to use this," she says. "You’ll need to have a licensed officiant conduct the wedding, and at least one witness. After the ceremony, the officiant needs to file the completed license with us."
"Thank you." I fold the license carefully, put it in my wallet next to my badge. "We appreciate your help."
Outside the courthouse, Lisa stops on the steps, shifting Tommy to her other hip.
"I can't believe we just did that." She's staring at the courthouse doors like they might disappear if she looks away. "We have a marriage license. An actual, legal marriage license."
"Having second thoughts?"
"No. Maybe. I don't know." She turns to look at me, and the uncertainty in her eyes makes my chest tighten. "Sawyer, what if this doesn't work? What if Derek's lawyer finds out we're not really... what if they can prove it's fake?"
"They won't." I keep my voice confident, certain. "Because we're not going to act like it's fake. We're going to act like a couple who's been friends since childhood and decided to get married. Because that's exactly what we are."
She searches my face like she's looking for something. "Is it really that simple?"
"It is if we make it."
Tommy chooses that moment to reach for me again, making those soft baby sounds that seem to mean he wants my attention. I take him from Lisa without thinking, settling him against my chest the way I've seen Luke do with his daughter Lily.
The baby feels solid, warm, real in my arms. He smells like baby soap and something sweet, and when he looks up at me with those serious dark eyes, something protective and fierce roars to life in my chest.
This is Emma's son. Lisa's nephew. The baby we're doing all of this to protect.
My stepson, at least on paper.
"He really does like you," Lisa says again, but there's something different in her voice this time. Softer. More wondering.
"I like him too." And I do. More than I expected. More than is probably smart for a fake marriage that's only supposed to last six months. "He's a good kid."
"He is. He's the best kid." Lisa's voice is thick with emotion. "Emma used to say he was an old soul. That he understood things babies shouldn't understand."
"Tell me about her." The request comes out before I can stop it. "About Emma. I knew her, but not the way you did."
Lisa is quiet for a moment, watching Tommy grab for my shirt pocket with determined baby fingers.
"She was fearless," she says finally. "Growing up, she was always the one pushing boundaries, taking risks, jumping off the highest rock into the swimming hole. I was the careful one, the one who checked for rocks underwater first."
