The Southern Bride

by Leonra Worth

  A new kind of panic set in. What if he truly had changed? What would happen next? Or what if he was putting on a big act until he had her back where he wanted her?

  Melissa watched him until he reached the steps to the deck. “What do you have there?”

  “Our dinner,” he said. “Leftovers from your sister.”

  Oh, so Michelle was behind this. She’d probably handed Judson the basket and flowers and told him to hurry on down the beach.

  “I have leftovers inside,” she said, shaking her head.

  “I’ll eat those, too.” He came up on the deck. “I’m so hungry.” Setting down the basket, he handed her the flowers. “I bought these from a woman down the way.”

  “Oh, yeah, Mrs. Griffin,” Melissa said. “She sells them all spring and summer. Grows them in her yard.”

  “She told me she grows flowers in memory of her husband,” Judson said, his gaze flowing over Melissa with an intensity that crashed and tugged like the tide. “He died five years ago.”

  Melissa held the flowers close and sniffed at the roses and lilies. “They were married forty-five years.”

  “That’s a long time.”

  While Melissa and Judson couldn’t seem to make it up the aisle. Marriage wasn’t for everyone, after all.

  “They loved each other.”

  He nodded and looked out at the water. “Can we have a picnic on the beach?”

  Touched that he wanted to do that but afraid that Michelle had demanded he do it, Melissa said, “Sure. Will that bother your leg?”

  “I’ll be careful. Where’s a blanket?”

  “I’ll get one out of the hall closet. Come on inside and nibble while I gather what we’ll need.”

  He followed her inside the house and stood glancing around at the quirky, beach-themed furniture and artwork. The cottage was a hodgepodge of colors and textures and shabby beach chic. Uncle Jaybo had let them decorate it any way they wanted so over the years they’d hung wooden signs all over the place, most of them touting how beach time was good time. Mixed in with the bright signs, art and paintings from local artists filled the house. Some of Brodie’s driftwood pieces had been added to the mix. A pelican here, a dolphin there. Some fish gathered near a log, all carved from wood and varnished to perfection.

  Judson scratched his head. “This place is interesting.”

  “We’ve all contributed to the décor through the years.”

  Judson touched a hand to a picture of Melissa and her sisters that their dad had taken about five years ago. “Y’all are real close, aren’t you?”

  She came back to the kitchen and handed him the heavy blanket. “Yes, but you always knew that, right?”

  He nodded. “Saw it and envied it. Sometimes, I’d get so mad with jealousy I’d deliberately pick a fight with you.”

  “Why?” she asked, shocked. He did always seem to want to fight when they were hanging out with her family.

  “I wanted all of your attention. But you’re so tight with your family that I didn’t think there was a place for me.”

  Another factor she’d taken for granted.

  “Judson, you were usually right there with us. We never turned you away. You’ve always been welcome in our home.”

  “I know,” he said. “But... I didn’t always feel if I belonged.”

  “So you fought with me all those times because you don’t like my close-knit family?”

  “No, Melissa,” he said with that touch of the frustration that usually caused them to fight. “Because I want to have a family like that and I figure I never will. Maybe not even with you. Especially not with you.”

  Melissa almost lashed out at him but instead, she took a breath and said, “Judson, you do have a family like that. You have my family. I always assumed that you understood that.”

  “I never thought I was worth the effort,” he said, his head down. “I’m still not worth the effort. But I’m gonna fight to win you back anyway. I can’t lose you, Missy. But I don’t know how to make this work.”

  Then he turned and went back out on the deck.

  Chapter Seven

  Melissa followed him. “Are you leaving?”

  “No,” he said. “I’ll go spread the blanket out on the sand.”

  She watched as he made his way down the steps and then she went inside and gathered food, paper plates, and bottled drinks into a big wicker basket. Judson was the kind of man who had to process things. Her family was big and loud and overwhelming and she’d brought him into that family without considering how different his upbringing had been from hers.

  Melissa’s head filled with scenes. Family scenes, where everyone was laughing and smiling, talking and sharing.

  Scenes where Judson stood off to the side, a wild light in his eyes. That reckless light had always drawn her to him.

  But now she could see it so clearly. That wildness had stemmed from fear. Like an unbroken stallion, he’d tried to be brave in spite of that fear.

  Judson, what did I do to you?

  He placed the plaid blanket on the sand halfway between the shore and the house and hurried to help her with the food.

  “That’s an amazing sunset,” he said, over his moodiness of earlier. “A lot different from back home, watching it drop behind the trees and woods.”

  “Everything is different here,” Melissa responded, wondering how to confront him after his admission. Wondering how to comfort him after this newest revelation. “Let’s eat.”

  She plopped down on the blanket and waited for him.

  Judson got down on one knee and swung his damaged leg around and then sank back onto the blanket. She could see the pain in the pinched expression on his face. He wouldn’t look at her but Melissa couldn’t stop looking at him.

  “How bad does it bother you?” she asked.

  “Bad enough.” He grabbed a paper plate and started putting food on it. “I don’t know if I’ll ever walk right again.”

  “But the pain will get better?”

  “Not so sure about that either. I hate taking the pain meds but sometimes, I have to give in. Most nights, it’s hard to sleep.”

  “I’m sorry, Judson.”

  He finally whirled to glare at her. “Sorry about my leg or sorry for me. Cause I don’t want any pity.”

  “I’m not pitying you,” she replied. “I’m trying to understand.”

  “Maybe you’re trying to find a way out?” He pointed to his leg. “I’m an embarrassment. I’m not the man you’ve always known.”

  “Is that what you think, really?”

  “You tell me,” he said, his eyes black-blue.

  In the old days, she would have jumped up and stalked away to pout. Today, she placed a hand on his. “I think you’re still the man I know but that this has changed you. And not necessarily in a bad way. I’m not in the least embarrassed by your limp, Judson. You should know me well enough to understand I’m not that kind of person. I’m more concerned about how this makes you feel. I hope you won’t let it bring you down. You need to help me understand what’s going on with you.”

  He nibbled on a chunk of cold meat and stared at the golden rays falling across the water. The whole sky had turned a burnt orange shot through with yellow streaks. The sky seemed to echo the heat moving through Melissa’s heart.

  “What’s to understand,” he finally said. “I might be this way for the rest of my life. I think I knew that already, since the break was so bad and... I think I took it out on you when you were trying to help me.”

  “To push me away,” she said, suddenly understanding so much.

  His eyes told the truth, dark and mysterious and wild again. “I didn’t want you to go away but... it just didn’t make any sense. You wanted me to give up the rodeo even before this happened. But I didn’t. If I had—”

  “You might not be in pain today,” she finished, her heart burning with a different kind of hurt. “So you pushed me away because you were trying to make a point? Or because you
’re mad that I might have been right?”

  “I was trying to give you an out,” he said. Putting down his plate, he turned to her. “I shouldn’t have even come here but... I missed you and I wanted to apologize.”

  “It’s okay,” Melissa said, the intensity of his gaze making her wish for things she couldn’t have right now. “We agreed to start over from scratch.”

  “How can I start over when I’m already finished?” he asked.

  She took his hand. “Judson Duvall, you listen to me. You are not finished. You have a lot to give to the world. You’ve been around horses—and bulls—all your life and that has to count for something.”

  “So I get to muck hay until I die?”

  “You’re being stubborn.”

  “I’m being realistic.”

  “What would you do if you could have any job?”

  He frowned and then he shook his head and looked sheepish. “Work with horses.”

  “Okay, you can still do that.” She shoved a bottle of water at him. “Now, relax and watch that amazing sunset over toward the west.”

  “I’d rather watch you,” he replied in that way that seemed to make her backbone turn into wind chimes.

  She didn’t respond, but she couldn’t hide her smile.

  His gaze moved over her, telling her what words couldn’t. Judson wasn’t big on fancy words. But the way he looked at her made her understand he was in this for the long haul.

  They’d avoided an argument at least.

  “Suit yourself.” She twisted away and stared into the sun.

  But her heart sputtered and jumped when she felt his hand inching toward hers, the brush of his fingers over her knuckles reminding her they needed to take things slow.

  “You might have to help me up,” he whispered.

  “I might be able to do that,” she whispered back, knowing how much that quiet request had cost him.

  He pulled her against him and held her there. “For now, let’s just sit here.”

  And so they did. Until the golden sun slipped behind the water and left a blush of heated hope shimmering all around them.

  Melissa’s phone rang early the next morning.

  “I need help.”

  Judson?

  “Where are you?” she asked, hurrying back inside from her usual spot on the porch. Midmorning sunshine danced off the windows at the cottage.

  “The Surf Shack. I’m not so good at moving fast and we’re slammed.”

  “I’ll be right down.”

  Melissa threw on clothes and brushed her teeth. Then she pulled her hair up into a haphazard bun and slid into her walking shoes. Soon, she was sprinting down the beach toward the Surf Shack. But when she walked in, she saw two people standing at the counter and a couple of diners talking quietly at their tables.

  “Judson?”

  She found him in the kitchen with one of the two cooks Sam kept on staff. Everything looked calm. The place was clean and organized. Sam ran a tight ship.

  “Judson, are you serious? I don’t see any lines and... you seem fine to me.”

  “He wasn’t a few minutes ago,” Big Joe said through a chuckle. “The man says he can’t move fast but he was swinging flapjacks and slinging hash browns pretty steadily for a while there.”

  “I panicked,” Judson admitted with a sheepish lowering of his head. “I had people begging for bagels and wishing for omelets. How does Sam do this all day and night?”

  “He hires good help,” Joe, all three-hundred pounds of him, called out as he headed back to the kitchen. “I’m glad I’m only working a half-shift today.” Then he slapped Judson on the back. “But this one, I’m gonna keep my eye on him.”

  Melissa followed Judson back out to the long counter. “Did it get that bad?”

  “For about thirty minutes,” he said, taking a long breath and a good tug on a big cup of water. “I can take down the orders but getting it out here is a problem. I used to work at a hamburger joint, remember?”

  “I do,” she said, smiling. “We both got in trouble at the Hungry Cow, didn’t we?”

  “Yeah.” His eyes darkened with memories. “I kissed you near the employee entryway.”

  “Got a lecture from my daddy on that one.”

  “No more public displays of affection at the work place.”

  “We didn’t follow that rule.”

  Judson took a customer’s money and closed the cash register. “No, we never were good at following the rules.”

  Melissa thought about last night and how he’d held her there on the beach. Things had always been so fast and furious between them but she had to admit, she liked this new taking it slow mode. Being held was nice.

  “Last night was different,” she said, the heat of being near him almost undoing her.

  He quirked an eyebrow. “In a good way? Or a bad way?”

  “Both.” She turned to find a new customer waiting to place an order. “What can I do to help right now?”

  Judson glanced around. “Watch the register,” he said. “I can do most everything else.”

  A few minutes later, Melissa understood what he meant. The shack got busy again. She took orders and pinned the order sheets with clothespins in neat row along the open pass-through to the grill. Then she helped Judson and the other waitress serve the orders. They each manned the cash register as needed.

  It was easy to fall back into the old pattern she remembered from years ago when they were teens working part-time at the local hamburger joint. After their shift, Judson and Melissa would hop into his old truck and head to the river to bask in the sun and wade in the shallows. Or they’d get all dolled up and head into Shreveport to see a movie and have dinner out on Cross Lake or maybe downtown.

  “We had some good times,” she said once the breakfast crowd had calmed down. In about an hour, the lunch people would hit and they’d have to do it all again.

  “We sure did,” Judson replied. After clearing tables and sweeping up, they settled at the bar with fresh coffee. “But last night was one of our best times, I think.”

  “Me, too,” Melissa said, glad he felt the same. “It was different. The water and the moon rising and the food already cooked and ready. We didn’t have to hurry anywhere.”

  His gaze moved over her face, her hair, her lips. “Why did we always rush things before?”

  “Young and stupid,” she said. “In love... or so we thought.”

  “In lust, maybe?”

  “Well, there was that but... we’re older now, Judson. We can’t afford to make any mistakes.”

  “Would being with me be such a big mistake?”

  “No. Being with you was never the problem. We have a lot between us, both good and bad. I want the good. I’ve always only wanted the good.”

  He seemed to digest that. Used to, he’d have shouted at her and demanded an explanation on what she was really trying to say. Now he only nodded and smiled. “I like this place.”

  “When does your shift end?” she asked, thinking he was more quiet and reserved now. More settled into his own skin.

  “Two o’clock,” he said, standing with a grimace. “Then I ride up to the Stevens place.”

  “Are you going to be able to keep up this pace?”

  He nodded and swiped at his shaggy hair. “I like it so far but it’s only been a couple of days. Besides, I get to see you when my work day is done, right?”

  “Right,” she said, making a decision. “I’m going with you to the ranch, too.”

  “What?”

  “I mean, if you want me to. I can help out.”

  The old anger flared in his eyes. “I don’t need a babysitter, Missy.”

  Sensing she’d overstepped, she said, “I only want to help.”

  His gaze softened. “I appreciate that, but if I let you help I’ll look bad in Brodie’s eyes.”

  “I didn’t look at it that way,” she said, wishing she’d learn to mind her own business. “It’d be the same as me being
here now.”

  He leaned close and lifted her hair off her face. “We have to look at everything with different eyes now, remember?”

  “Okay,” she said, wanting to leave. “You called me to help.”

  “Yes, I did. And I appreciate that you came.” He followed her to the front door. “Look, I’m learning here. Asking you for help is one thing. You deciding you need to help is another.”

  “I don’t see the difference.” She didn’t want him to see the hurt or the mad in her eyes so she slid on her shades. “Call me if you want to talk later.”

  “I do want to talk later,” he said. “Okay?”

  New attitude, Melissa.

  She counted to ten and willed herself to let it go.

  “Okay. You know where to find me.”

  She could feel his eyes on her as she walked back down the beach. They hadn’t had a fight but... somehow she’d insulted him by offering to help him out with the barn and stables.

  “Hey!”

  Melissa glanced up from her musings to find her daddy sitting on the second-floor porch at Michelle’s house.

  “Hey, Daddy,” she called, the sun warm on her face.

  He motioned for her to come up so Melissa made her way up the steps and grinned at him. “You look comfortable.”

  “I might never leave,” her dad said. “Coffee?”

  “No, I had my fill at the Surf Shack.”

  “Oh, so Judson’s working there this morning.”

  “Yes.” She explained about him calling her. “He’s doing great but he called me to come and pitch in. I don’t think he really needed my help though.”

  “Maybe he just needed to see a friendly face,” Dad pointed out.

  “I guess so.” She stared out at the bright water. “I’m going to walk the beach.”

  “Your mom and sister are planning another round of shopping after lunch,” he said. “But you can’t go until you get rid of that gloomy face.”

  “Do I look gloomy?”

  “Yeah. Judson already giving you trouble?”

  “No. This new Judson is trying hard to do things on his own.”