"Sounds familiar."
"She wanted to travel the world, be a foreign correspondent, write stories that mattered. She had this whole plan mapped out." Lisa's voice gets quieter. "And then she met Derek, and suddenly all those dreams got smaller. He convinced her that those ambitions were selfish, that she should focus on more realistic goals."
"Like what?"
"Like being a lawyer's wife. Like hosting dinner parties and joining the right charities and producing the next generation of Morrisons." The bitterness in Lisa's voice is sharp enough to cut. "She tried to make it work. Really tried. But Derek wanted a trophy, not a partner."
"So when she got pregnant..." I start, connecting the dots.
"Yep he left her alone, jobless and pregnant. So, she came back to Grizzly Ridge when she was six months pregnant, moved into that little apartment above the bakery. She was going to start over, raise Tommy here where he could have space to run and clean air to breathe." Lisa's voice breaks slightly. "She was going to be happy."
The pain in her voice breaks my heart. I want to reach out, pull her close, and promise her that Tommy will have all the things Emma wanted for him. But my arms are already occupied holding Tommy, and we're standing on the courthouse steps where anyone could see us.
Where anyone could witness the moment I stop pretending this is just about helping a friend and start admitting what it's really about.
"She would be proud of you," I say instead. "For fighting for him. For doing whatever it takes to keep him safe."
"I hope so." Lisa wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand. "I really hope so."
Tommy makes a sound that might be hunger or might just be baby commentary on our conversation. Lisa checks her watch and frowns.
"It's almost ten. I should feed him, and then I need to call my lawyer. Let her know about..." She gestures between us. "About this development."
"What did you tell her before? About your situation?"
"That I was exploring all options to strengthen my custody case." Lisa's mouth quirks up in what might charitably be called a smile. "I think marriage to the town sheriff qualifies as strengthening my case."
"Probably so." I hand Tommy back to her, immediately missing the solid weight of him. "Lisa, we need to talk about logistics. Where we're living, how we're handling this day to day."
"I know. I've been thinking about that." She settles Tommy more securely against her hip. "Emma's lease is up in three weeks. I could find somewhere else, a small place where..."
"No."
The word comes out sharper, more final than I intended. Lisa blinks, startled.
"No?"
"You're not finding somewhere else. You and Tommy are moving in with me." I can see the protest forming on her lips as I hold up a hand. "Think about it, Lisa. We're supposed tobe newlyweds. What kind of message does it send if my wife is living in a separate apartment across town?"
"But your cabin is..."
"Is plenty big enough for three people. Four bedrooms, two bathrooms, full kitchen. There's even a room that would make a perfect nursery." I've been thinking about this since she left my house this morning, working through the practicalities. "It makes sense."
"Separate bedrooms." The words come out fast, almost panicked. "We agreed separate bedrooms."
"Separate bedrooms," I confirm. "But Lisa, if we're going to sell this to a family court judge, we need to look like a real family. That means living together, acting like a couple, being seen around town as husband and wife."
She's quiet for a long moment, thinking. I can practically see her weighing options, calculating risks.
"When?" she asks finally.
"This weekend. We'll get married tomorrow, you move in Sunday. By Monday morning, everyone in Grizzly Ridge will know that Sheriff McKenna has a wife and stepson."
"Tomorrow?" Her voice goes up an octave. "Sawyer, I can't get married tomorrow. I don't have a dress, or flowers, or..."
"You don't need any of that." I step closer, close enough to see the gold flecks in her green eyes. "All you need is the license, an officiant, and a witness. Everything else is just decoration."
"But it's my wedding day." The words come out soft, almost wistful. "Even if it's fake, it's still my wedding day."
