by Jody Holford
Sarah’s smile was nearly as bright as the stadium lights shining over the fairgrounds. She started to respond but was bumped, hard, from the side. Tripping, she knocked into Molly, who was barely able to steady herself before banging into someone else.
“I am so sorry, darlin’,” a thick voice drawled. The sound alone made Molly’s skin quiver unpleasantly.
Turning her head after apologizing to the woman she’d almost crashed into, she saw Jethro looming over Sarah, his giant hands gripping her shoulders.
“You okay, beautiful girl?” He lowered his face, bent his knees, and Molly frowned. Saying sorry was one thing, but he was practically holding her up against him, and that was not.
“I think she’s okay, Jethro,” she intervened.
Sarah nodded, her mouth in a tight, grim line. “I’m fine.”
Jethro loosened his hold, but only to move his hands up and down Sarah’s arms. His eyes wandered. “You are definitely fine.”
Molly’s jaw dropped open, and her stomach sank. Before she could say anything, she felt and sensed Sam at her back.
“Everything okay here?” He moved to her side, his fingers touching hers. He held two cans of soda in his other hand. The hard expression on his face, the tight set of his jaw, surprised Molly. It wasn’t typical for him to show anger, but he was clearly beyond irritated.
Chris, one of Britton Bay’s deputies and Sam’s good friend, quickly and confidently extricated his girlfriend from Jethro’s hold.
“You okay?” His eyes were on Jet, and they weren’t friendly. Molly knew that Chris, like Sam, was even-tempered and friendly. But his badge made him wary of people in a way she and Sam weren’t. He did not like Jethro’s hands on his girlfriend.
“I bumped into this gorgeous woman, and I was just making sure she was okay. I’m Jethro Harkaw.” He put out a meaty hand, and Chris shook it, his expression not softening.
Jet put his hands in his pockets and turned to Sam. “Quite the turnout.”
Sam placed his hand on the small of Molly’s back, and she leaned into him. “I’m pleased with it. There are lots of out-of-towners. We hit the right crowd with our advertising. Brian was chatting with one of my mechanics and said this was one of the best and liveliest events he’s seen.”
Jethro looked around. “Yup. I’d have to agree. Definitely going to have to come back here some other time.” His eyes roamed over Molly and then Sarah before he spoke again. “Excellent view no matter where you look.”
Chris stepped forward, his eyes dark and his stance rigid. A woman Molly didn’t know—one she’d have remembered if she’d met—sidled up to Jethro. In her low-cut, pale-pink tank top, she was underdressed for the breeze in the air. Thick, teased, and curly brown hair fell over her shoulders when she leaned into the tall man, pressing her front to his side. Jethro’s eyes lit up when he looked down, his arm snaking around her shoulders immediately.
“Well, hi there, darlin’. I thought I’d lost you to the band. I know how you like to dance,” Jet said, a warm affection in his tone. He looked at the four of them, staring at him, and gestured to the woman. “This is my wife, Amber.”
Molly nearly choked. Amber looked more like she could be Jethro’s daughter.
Her cherry-red lips tipped up in a smile. “He gets a kick out of saying that, but I know better than to leave him too long. He’s a horrible flirt.”
No one said anything. Amber turned to Jethro, her hand on his chest, and batted thickly coated eyelashes at him. “Come dance with me. The night is almost over, and you’ve been too busy.”
With a grin that made Molly’s stomach clench uncomfortably, Jethro waved a hand.
“Happy wife, happy life. Am I right?”
Neither Chris nor Sam said anything in response, but Molly caught the look they exchanged.
“I think I need a shower,” Sarah said. The sound of the band starting up again drifted around them, but at least they could hear each other speak without shouting.
“Sorry about that,” Sam said.
Molly looked at him and reached for his hand. “Why on earth would you apologize?”
“Yeah, man, that guy’s creepiness isn’t on you,” Chris said, his arm sliding around Sarah’s shoulder to pull her close.
Sam frowned, his brows furrowing together in a way that made Molly want to hug him and smooth out his concerns. “I guess I’m just disappointed to find out what he’s really like. Every time I’ve interacted with him since Thursday, it’s been a disappointment.”
“That’s not your fault, Sam,” Sarah said.
He smiled, but it wasn’t his usual. “This is the band’s last set. Most of the vendors have shut down, but I’m going to do one more walk around, make sure. I need to chat with security, too, make sure they’re ready to do a final walk-through.”
“I’ll help. I can chat with security if you want,” Chris offered.
Sam looked at Molly, his head dipping to touch her lips. “I’ll see you a bit later?”
“Of course. Anything I can do?” She wanted to put a real smile on his face but worried that wouldn’t happen until this weekend was over.
“You want to check in with the band? I already paid them, but just make sure they don’t need anything before they go?”
“No problem.” When he pulled back, she went up on her tiptoes and kissed him again.
He took a minute to wrap his arms around her and give her the hug she’d wanted to give him.
“Sometime tonight, man. You’re not the only one who wants to take their girl home,” Chris said, shoving Sam’s shoulder when Molly released him.
Sam laughed, as did Molly and Sarah.
“Meet you at the front of the barn when we’re done,” Chris said, pressing a kiss to Sarah’s forehead.
When the guys walked away, Sarah and Molly wove their way back the way they’d come, following the steady thump of the drums.
“I don’t think I’m supposed to fall so fast,” Sarah murmured.
Molly turned her head, looking at her smitten new friend, and realized they had more in common than she thought. “I hear you. Trust me.”
As they made their way back into the crowded barn, the music drowned out any further conversation. The music slowed, and Molly noted that several couples had taken the dance floor, including Calliope and Dean. They must have closed down their booth already. She couldn’t help smiling at the way they stared into each other’s eyes as they swayed back and forth. Not too far from them were Katherine and the town sheriff. Though Sam was coming to terms with his mother dating, Molly was glad he’d missed this view—the two of them impossibly close, smiling at each other under a thousand twinkling lights as the lead singer sang about falling in love.
Molly and Sarah split up. Several couples were heading out the door, their happy energy pulsing in the vibrant room. It had been a long night, but other than the unfortunate run-in with Jet, a very pleasant one. Molly was looking forward to crawling into bed and curling up with Sam and Tigger, who liked to lie right between them.
Moving behind the enormous speakers, hoping to catch the lead singer as soon as the song was over, Molly stopped short. She recognized the back of Jethro, but she was pretty sure the woman he was pressed up against was not the wife she’d met ten minutes ago.
This woman, who Molly could barely see thanks to Jethro’s wide back and shoulders, was wearing a long-sleeved floral-print shirt, and an almost white blond braid was in Jethro’s fist. If the way her hands clutched the back of his shirt was any indication, this woman did not mind. Backing away slowly, hand covering her mouth, as if she might make a sound they could hear over the thump of the music, Molly made her way back to the sidelines of the makeshift dance floor.
Looking through the crowd, she couldn’t spot Sarah. Molly figured she’d meet up with her friend the next day if she didn’t run int
o her again tonight. The room was emptier than it had been only a little while earlier, so it was easier to see. Maybe she’d gone outside. Molly decided the band would contact Sam if they needed anything else. Unsure if it was the combination of perfumes and colognes mingling with sweat or what she’d just seen, Molly was desperate for some fresh air.
Outside the barn doors, she inhaled deeply. Jethro Harkaw was a one-man soap opera. Molly was glad he and his partner were only staying for the weekend. Leaning against the side of the red barn, she stared up at the sky. The stars danced like they could hear the music, and her stomach began to settle.
“I never take the time to stop and look at the stars. Wish I’d learned to hit pause at your age,” Brian Stoleman said, walking toward her.
Aiming for a smile, she was pretty sure what she gave was more of a grimace. “They’re beautiful. Hard to miss.” Though she’d missed them plenty when she’d lived in a bigger city. Now, she couldn’t imagine looking up and not seeing them.
“You’re not wrong. Quite an evening. It’s a nice town you’ve got here,” Brian said.
Molly bit down on the urge to thank him for the compliment. “I love it here. You ever get tired of traveling?”
Kicking the toe of his boot into the gravel, he shoved his hands into the pocket of his leather bomber jacket and looked at the ground. “Off the record?”
As though a match was held to a flame, her interest sparked. “Sure.”
He looked up, his eyes meeting hers. “This’ll be my last ride. I’m tired of touring around. I’m getting too old for this…”
Molly wasn’t sure how he planned to finish that sentence, but she had several ideas on what it was he was tired of. “What will you do next?”
People started coming out of the barn in pairs and groups. The music had stopped, but voices filled the air. Brian stared up at the stars she’d been studying.
“I’ve got a sister in Nashville. A couple of nieces and nephews. Might head there.”
He sounded so…lonely that Molly’s heart ached. How did two men who were so incredibly different form a bond that spanned decades?
“I think you’re never too old to figure out what you want,” Molly said softly.
Brian smiled at her. “Oh, I’ve known for years what I want. What you learn, when you get to be my age, is you don’t always get what you want. So you make do with what you have. Fortunately for me, I don’t need much more than Mabel and the open road.”
They settled into a reasonably comfortable silence, looking up at the stars. She glanced his way when he pulled on light-gray, wool gloves. He gave her a sheepish expression. “It’s cold here. Old man like me, lousy circulation, my fingers turn into ice.”
She laughed. “I didn’t expect it to be this cold here either. I used to live in California. I don’t even own gloves.”
He smiled, and they went back to star gazing. Molly was thinking she should give her parents a call—it had been too long—when loud laughter barked out from behind her.
“There you are. Wondered where you’d slunk off to,” Jethro said, breaking away from the throng of people he’d exited the barn with.
“I was just saying good night to my girl,” Brian said, smiling at Jet.
Jet looked at Molly. “That’s what we call our cars. Our girls. Mind you, they’re having a big old sleepover tonight, aren’t they? You have a favorite, Molly?”
Every time one of the cars had passed during the parade the evening before, she’d thought, that’s the prettiest one. Then the next one would roll into the space, and she’d change her mind. All of the cars were nothing short of beautiful, and that was the opinion of someone who knew nothing more than color preference when it came to vehicles.
“I tried to choose one yesterday but just couldn’t. The only conclusion I came to was that if I were to pick, it’d have to be a convertible.” Feeling like she should slip back into work mode, she asked, “Tomorrow is prizes and closing ceremonies?”
“You got it,” Jethro said, glancing around over Molly’s head. It was hard not to wonder who he was looking for in the crowd. His wife or his mystery kisser. His gaze came back to her face. “Last run of the year. We tuck ’em up tight for the winter after this. Makes me restless just thinking about it.”
Brian clapped him on the shoulder. “Breathing makes you restless.”
Both men shared a hearty laugh while Molly stifled a yawn. Time to call it a night.
She stared to say just that when Jet’s eyes widened, and he looked at Brian. “Uh, do me a favor? Candice is here. Best if she and Amber don’t connect.”
The happy fatigue she’d noted on Brian’s face disappeared. “Candy’s here? Since when?”
Jet spoke through gritted teeth. “Since she showed up. Don’t need to be getting into it with her. She’s still in the barn over there. Here comes Amber. I’ll get her back to the RV.” Jet had pointed to someone in the barn but opened his hand as if he’d been reaching out for his wife, who took it and joined him by his side.
“I’m tired, baby,” she said in a whiny tone. Phone in her hand, she looked down at the screen and started typing before she’d finished talking.
Jethro kept glancing back and forth between the barn and Brian. “Then let’s get you home. See you all tomorrow.” He guided Amber away from the barn and moved toward the exit with several others. Most of the drivers hitched rides with each other in additional vehicles that had been rented for the event. It seemed strange to Molly that they didn’t drive their cars back and forth but was told the less they travel for no reason, the better.
“Who is Candice?” Molly asked Brian, who was staring over her head. Jaw clenched, hands on his hips, he didn’t meet her gaze when she spoke.
But as she followed his line of sight, he said quietly, “Jet’s ex-wife. I gotta go. See you tomorrow, dear.”
Molly watched as he moved around the few stragglers and headed in the direction Jethro had pointed. When Brian stopped in front of someone, Molly’s breath caught. The woman smiled up at him, throwing her arms around his neck. The sleeves of her floral shirt were every bit as familiar as the long, white-blond braid that swung as Brian twirled her in a hug. Why would Jet make out with his ex-wife? Or anyone who wasn’t his wife?
Shaking her head, she turned, right into Sam’s space. He smiled down at her, grabbed her arms to steady her from her surprise.
“Hey.” She beamed up at him. He was a great guy, plain and simple, but what she’d witnessed this evening gave her a new appreciation of what made a good man. And having one in her life.
“Security will do the final sweep after we’re all gone, but I want to shut down the gallery. I told them I’d make sure it was locked up.
“The gallery?”
His arms slipped around her, and he pulled her close. They were off to the side of the doors, a semi-secluded spot that allowed him to bury his face in her neck, pressing his mouth to the soft skin there. He pulled back just enough to talk into her ear, his breath tickling her and making her sigh at the same time.
“That’s what we’re calling the car barn. All the vendors are shut down, and we closed up the doors there a half hour ago, but I just want to make sure I have everything ready for tomorrow.”
“And say good night to the pretties?”
He laughed. “Yeah.”
She didn’t know how to assimilate all of the thoughts she had on Jet or Brian or anything she’d seen. Part of her wanted to tell Sam about Jethro kissing someone else, but she didn’t want to make Sam feel bad again by saying something negative about Jet.
“Want company?” She stepped out of his embrace, slipping her palm against his and tightening her fingers.
Even in the muted darkness, she saw the warmth in his eyes. “Yours? Always.”
It took them a little while to wander through the dispersing crowd. A few p
eople stopped Sam to chat about cars or the evening, or to congratulate him on a great job. The farther they walked on the fairgrounds, the more isolated their surroundings felt. With all of the vendors shut down, the lights had been cut. The lights from the dance barn still cast a glow, but it faded as they walked to the gallery. When they got closer, the lights from that barn lit the way. One of the doors was ajar, creating a path for them to follow.
“Sorry this is taking so long,” Sam said, giving her hand a squeeze.
“No problem.” She was tired but still excited from the evening, so she’d last until they made it home. Or at least to Sam’s truck.
Sam pulled the door a little farther open so Molly could go through. There was only one overhead light on, and the back doors were completely open.
Sam frowned when he saw that. “Security could have at least shut that.” There was an eerie quietness that made Molly’s chest tighten. The cars sat, pristine, in their rows.
“I think I’ll leave the one light on, because otherwise it’ll be too dark to lock up. But let me grab the other doors.”
Molly wrapped her arms around her stomach, unable to shake the unease creeping over her skin.
Sam stopped walking halfway down the aisle between the cars.
“Sam?”
Nerves pressed her heart up against her rib cage when he let out a sharp gasp.
She was moving toward him when his hand came out, signaling her to stop. She didn’t.
“Jet? Jet?”
Molly’s stomach cramped. It wasn’t until she got closer that she saw, in the deep shadows of the barn, that there was someone sitting in one of the cars.
“Jet?” Sam called out. He was still a good four feet from the car, and Molly was behind him, frozen on the cement-covered spot.
“Is he all right?” She shuffled closer, barely moving her feet. Sam inched closer to the car.
She couldn’t see any identifying features from where she stood. The cars closer to the back doors were all shrouded in darkness. But Sam could obviously identify the person.