Page 62 of Last Wish Wedding

“I will,” Kelsey promised, bending to kiss his weathered cheek. “As soon as we get back.”

“Take care of each other,” Truman added. “That’s what marriage is, when you strip away all the nonsense. Taking care of each other.”

The sentiment, spoken with his ninety-five years of experience, lodged somewhere deep in Kelsey’s chest. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

Amy hugged her fiercely. “Call me the minute you have him,” she instructed. “I don’t care what time it is.”

“I will,” Kelsey promised.

Final goodbyes were exchanged, and then she and Mac were walking down the cottage steps toward his Range Rover, husband and wife on their way to claim their child. The reality of what they’d done—the irrevocable step they’d taken—began to sink in as Mac held the passenger door open for her.

“Ready for this?” he asked quietly.

Kelsey looked down at the gold band on her finger, gleaming in the late afternoon sun. “For Noah? I’m ready for anything.”

Mac nodded. “Then let’s go get our son.”

He closed her door and rounded the vehicle to the driver’s side. As they pulled away from Truman’s cottage, Kelsey caught a glimpse of Amy and Mrs. Henley helping Truman wave from the porch, the three of them silhouetted against the ocean backdrop like a scene from another life—one where this hasty marriage might have been the joyful celebration it appeared to be, rather than the tactical maneuver it actually was.

She touched the ring on her finger, turning it slightly, feeling a weight that hadn’t been familiar for over seven years. Mrs. MacCormack. The name that would open doors, command respect, and most importantly, bring Noah home. Whatever it cost her, whatever complications lay ahead, that was all that mattered now.

The Range Rover sliced through the afternoon stop-and-go traffic heading into Boston with minimal fuss. Mac adjusted his grip on the steering wheel, glancing at the navigation screen that estimated their arrival time at just under two hours. Traffic thinned slightly as they passed an accident on the shoulder, emergency lights flashing in his rearview mirror.

Beside him, Kelsey sat perfectly still, her gaze fixed on the road ahead, the bouquet Amy had given her resting in her lap. Her left hand lay on her thigh, the gold band catching the sunlight that streamed through the windshield. She hadn’t said much since they’d left the island, the enormity of their situation seeming to settle more heavily with each passing mile.

Mac cleared his throat. “Traffic’s not as bad as it could be. Mostly outbound at this time of day.”

“That’s good,” Kelsey replied, her voice distant. She twisted the ring on her finger, as if testing its weight and presence.

“You okay?” Mac asked, though it was a ridiculous question. Of course she wasn’t okay. Her son had been taken from her, and she’d just married a man she’d known for mere weeks and who’s leaving soon for the middle of the ocean as a legal strategy.

She gave him a thin smile. “I’m focused on Noah. Everything else is just… background noise right now.”

Mac nodded, understanding completely. “I need to make a call. Do you mind?”

“Go ahead.”

He pressed a button on the steering wheel. “Call Judge Michaels.”

The car’s Bluetooth system dialed, and ringing filled the cabin. After three rings, a deep voice answered. “Mac? Twice in one month—to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“James,” Mac said, his tone deliberately casual. “I need to cash in a favor.”

A chuckle came through the speakers. “You never call just to chat anymore Mac. What’s going on?”

Mac glanced at Kelsey, who was listening intently. “I got married today.”

A startled pause. “You’re joking.”

“Not at all. Eloped this afternoon with the most incredible woman.” Mac’s eyes remained on the road, but he felt Kelsey’s gaze shift to his profile.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Judge Michaels said, genuine surprise in his voice. “Congratulations, I guess? This seems rather sudden. But I know Marlene would be happy for you.”

“When you know, you know,” Mac replied after a brief pause in which he had to brush off the last part of that statement. “But we’ve hit a complication. My wife’s son was taken from her last night on an emergency custody order. Judge Harmon signed it.”

“Ah,” the understanding in the judge’s voice was immediate. “Harmon’s involved. Now I begin to see why you’re calling me.”

“We’re petitioning to get the order reversed. We need to expedite the process and get an emergency hearing to review the custody situation. I’m also petitioning to adopt the boy.”