“It isn’t a rental,” Sam said slowly.
“Jack replaced his truck? Because of that tiny dent I put in it?”
“Nope. He replaced your car.” Sam stood back. He gave her a charming smile and patted the car.
“He bought me a car?” She tried to process the information. In a way, she should have expected it. Jack believed in big gestures. “That’s sweet, but my car is fine. It’s paid off, and it still runs…most of the time.”
“Abby, it has WHORE painted on it,” he pointed out.
“So, it needs a paint job.” And new tires and the alternator was tricky.
“Even with a paint job, it’ll always be your whore car,” Sam reasoned. “You’ll never be able to look at it the same way again. You’ll always see it right there on the hood of your car.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be a drama queen. My car’s honor hasn’t been impugned.”
“Oh, yes it has.” There was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “It’s completely ruined in the eyes of society.” His hands slid across the top of the Benz lovingly. “But this baby is pure as the driven snow.”
“You’re insane,” she declared flatly. “I want my car back.”
“Not really possible. Jack thought you might want your whore car back, so he had it crushed.” Sam held his hands about two feet apart. “It’s this big now. It’s a nice little cube.”
She felt her jaw drop. “Jack cubed my car?”
“You’ll find that Jack thinks ahead. He figured you might be stubborn about the whole car thing, so he took care of it for you. Now you can feel free to enjoy the pristine beauty of the Benz, since you can’t exactly drive a cube.”
She felt her face flush. He really had cut her off at the knees. She wasn’t so stubborn as to throw the car back in Jack’s face. They were getting married, and he had caused her beloved Oldsmobile to meet its sad demise. He owed her a car. She simply worried about the expense. Jack needed to understand that she wasn’t some princess who had to have the best of everything. She was willing to work with them to grow the ranch. Her pointing finger came out, and Sam took a step back. “Jack and I will be having a discussion about this tonight.”
“I will look forward to it.” Expectation lit his blue eyes. “Please don’t start in on Jack until I have a front-row seat.” Abby started down the sidewalk, and Sam followed. “I think I’ll pick up some popcorn because that is going to be one entertaining discussion.”
She let the doors to the local grocery store swing open in front of her. She thought about getting a cart and shopping leisurely, but decided a quick guerilla assault was more likely to work this first time. She tried not to notice that everyone in the store was staring as she marched in. The girl at the register immediately picked up her phone and called for Mr. Gunderson.
Let him come. She wasn’t going to be intimidated. Not this time. And she knew exactly what she wanted to be holding in her hands when that nasty Greg Gunderson showed up.
She stalked through the store until she found the aisle with the feminine hygiene products. She grabbed a big box of tampons, and when she turned around, she nearly collided with a pimple-faced kid who couldn’t be much past seventeen. He dropped the box he had been carrying and packages of maxi pads went flying.
So much for a quick assault.
With a long sigh, she bent over to start helping the kid pick them up.
“You’re Abigail Moore.” He was staring at her. She was pretty certain he wasn’t looking at her eyes.
“Yes.” She was not able to keep the surly tone out of her voice. This kid hadn’t even been alive when she’d left town. She wasn’t putting up with his crap. “Do you have a problem with that?”
He quickly shook his head. “No, no problem, ma’am,” the kid stammered. “My mom says now that you’re back, you’ll probably corrupt every teenage boy in town.”
Teenage boys? What the hell was wrong with the women of this town? “Do you listen to everything your mama says?”
He shook his head. “Not usually. I just thought…maybe I could take you out some time, Miss Abigail. I have some money left over from my birthday. We could go someplace nice.”
She heard a man snort and saw Sam bent over in the aisle, laughing his ass off. No help was coming from that corner. She turned back to her boy suitor. He looked at her with the earnest expression of a young man who wanted desperately to be corrupted. “Should I expect further invitations from the town’s high school boy population?”
He shrugged. “Most likely. We all decided you’re the hottest thing this town has seen since Lisa Donald brought back a string bikini from her aunt’s house in L.A.”
Yep. Another problem for another day. She walked around the boy, completely ignoring his invitation. She narrowed her eyes at Sam as she walked by. “You’re supposed to defend me from things like that, Sam Fleetwood. Some fiancé you are.”
“Hell, the high school boys of Willow Fork have spoken,” Sam managed to wheeze. “You are their goddess. Who am I to stand in the way? Besides, baby, he weighs all of ninety pounds. After the way you handled Melissa Paul last night, he’ll be a breeze.”
She frowned at him and marched straight up to the checkout stand where Greg Gunderson stood waiting. He had relieved the clerk and stood panting from the exertion of running all the way from his office in the back of the store. He was about fifteen years older than she was, and she still remembered the first time he’d told her to get out of his store. He’d put on about fifty pounds since the last time she’d seen him. He still wore the tackiest ties, though.
Slamming the box of tampons on the counter, she looked Gunderson straight in the eyes. “I would like to purchase that, please.”
Unlike the last time, Gunderson looked slightly apologetic. “I can’t, Miss Moore. I’m sorry. I know it seems stupid, but I can’t have you in here.”
A crowd of young mothers was gathering with their children in tow. Abby recognized Jan Echols among them. She’d met the woman at the diner and had been surprised someone in the Echols family had the good sense to marry her. Jan and her girls seemed like genuinely nice people.
“Hey, Abby,” Jan said with a wave. “How are you doing today?” Her two girls were with her and they waved as well, one of them clinging to her mama’s skirt, the other trying to climb into the basket.
Normal. It was nice and normal to have an acquaintance wave her way at the grocery store.
She blinked back tears because no one had done that for her in this town. Abby nodded Jan’s way. “I’m doing well, Jan. Though I am having some trouble with the management of this establishment. Thank you for asking.”
She looked back at the grocery store owner with a little more strength than she’d had before. She’d come too far to walk out defeated now.
“Are you telling me I cannot buy a box of feminine necessaries in your store?”
Gunderson sighed. “You know I can’t sell it to you.”
“You’re the only grocery store in town, Mr. Gunderson,” she pointed out. “Where am I supposed to go?”
He stammered as he realized there were a whole lot of young female eyes watching him. “Well, there’s always Tyler.”
“You expect her to drive to Tyler for a box of tampons?” Jan asked flatly.
She looked back, noting a slightly unholy gleam in the eyes of many of the women there. It was as though the entire crowd sensed the distress of the man and was waiting eagerly to pounce.
“Obviously the man has never had a period,” said a young brunette with a baby strapped to her chest. She shook her head indignantly. “Is she supposed to hold it until she can get there? Because it doesn’t work like that.”
“Now, this is certainly not a fit conversation for mixed company.” Gunderson’s eyes darted around, seeking out the first man he could find.
He wouldn’t get any help from Sam. Sam looked like he was having a grand old time. He stepped back with the women. “If he can refuse to sell poor Ab
by Moore her much-needed tampons, what’s next, ladies? He’s a man on a mission to oppress the women of Willow Fork.”
“That is completely untrue.” The round man seemed to sense his Monday afternoon shoppers were about to turn into an unruly mob.
“We should protest,” someone from the back said. “We could get signs and everything.”
Jan Echols smiled. “I think, perhaps, tomorrow Mr. Gunderson might discover his store window covered in maxi pads. They stick, you know. We could line the whole storefront with them. Don’t think of it as vandalism, sir. Think of it as artistic outrage.”
“That’ll be five dollars and ninety cents.” Gunderson looked down at his cash register.
Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a ten. She took her change and held the small bag in her hand.
When she turned, the female mob burst into applause.
“About time someone stood up to that old prude,” she heard another lady in the crowd mutter.
“He won’t even carry hair color,” another said bitterly. “He says it’s for loose women.”
“Maybe a protest is still called for.” Jan stared at the very nervous grocery store owner.
“Maybe a new store is called for,” Sam offered cheerfully. “I’ve been looking to invest.” He took her by the hand and started to lead her away. “Baby, I take it all back. This is so much more fun than letting Jack scare the shit out of people. Let’s go up and down Main Street buying stuff you don’t need.”
As she let Sam lead her triumphantly out of the store, she noticed the stock boy watching her. Their eyes met, and he held a single hand up to wave good-bye. The lovelorn look on his face was enough to make her giggle. It really had been worth the trouble.
The nicest salon in town was across the street.
She decided she needed conditioner.
* * *
The stories of Abigail Moore’s conquest of Main Street reached Ruby Echols very quickly. She’d been taking tea in her sitting room when the phone was brought to her. Helen Talbot had been in the Winchester Salon when Abby had threatened a multitude of lawsuits if she was not offered the ability to purchase hair products. What was the world coming to when decent storeowners were not allowed to select their clientele?
She wanted to shake with rage as she thought about the night before. It had taken a lot out of her to start that fire. It wasn’t as if the trashy trailer had put up much of a fight, but she had been obliged to walk through the woods in order to conceal her vehicle. A window had been conveniently left open, and some filmy curtains had been easy to set aflame.
It had been satisfying to stand back and watch it burn. Her only real disappointment was that Abby hadn’t been caught in the trailer. She should have known the tramp would have the devil’s own luck.
No, her work had been righteous and good, but ruined. It had been the sight of Adam taking care of the bitch that had infuriated her. Adam had walked up the lane and taken charge, as she had always known he would. Adam was the smart, confident one. He was a leader. He was everything she had dreamed he would become. His body was a man’s body now. He wasn’t a boy anymore.
But he still needed a mother’s protection. He was still in that siren’s clutches, and it was up to his mother to make sure things turned out differently this time.
She had another chance. She wasn’t going to let the same thing happen twice.
Ruby’s head began to pound. Oh, she wondered, where was that youngest boy of hers? He was supposed to bring her those pills. She hadn’t taken them already, had she?
Sometimes things were very confusing.
She gathered the cashmere cardigan around her shoulders. The door chimes rang, and she heard the housekeeper hustling to the door. She sat carefully on the antique sofa as Hillary Glass, Helen Talbot, and Miranda Knight were shown into the sitting room.
“Oh, Ruby, we heard all about it,” Miranda fretted as she moved to greet her.
“Did you hear the news that the tramp’s trailer burned down?” Hillary settled herself on the early-American armchair Ruby’s great-grandmother had brought with her when the family moved from Atlanta after the War of Northern Aggression.
“Yes,” she murmured. “I heard about it this morning. It doesn’t surprise me. I’m sure someone was drunk at the time. I doubt that her mother had insurance. Are they at a shelter?”
It suited her to think of those trashy women as homeless.
“No.” Helen shook her overly round head. Ruby had always thought Helen should lose some weight, but then again, her bloodlines were impeccable. One had to overlook such things at times. Now Helen’s large hands fluttered. “The rumor is she’s moved in with Jack Barnes and they’re getting married on Thursday. Barnes called the judge this morning and got the paperwork going. Can you imagine it? Abigail Moore is going to marry the largest landholder in the county.”
She flushed, her hands threatening to shake. “No, she is not.”
Helen shook her head. “I don’t know that you can stop this, Ruby. That Barnes fellow is quite intimidating. My son has done business with him. He says the man is tough but fair. However, when he’s crossed, he can be ruthless.”
“If he’s decided he wants Abigail Moore, then he’ll have her,” Miranda pronounced.
A plan formed in Ruby’s brain. She would drive Abigail out of town once and for all, and then Adam could come home. “Then we’ll have to convince Abby to leave him, won’t we? I do believe I would like to get a cup of coffee at the café in town. I think Abigail will more than likely show up there, don’t you?”
Three hours later, Ruby smiled as a shaken Abigail Moore walked out of the café. It had been relatively simple to corner the girl. Miranda had waylaid the young man escorting Abigail around with tales of car trouble. The handsome blond man had been more than willing to help out a little old lady. Abigail had been flush with her own success. She had accepted Ruby’s invitation to talk with a look of challenge in her eyes.
Abigail wasn’t so arrogant now.
She had shown the tramp what real power was. Ruby had laid out a detailed plan of how she and her friends intended to destroy Jack Barnes and his business. When they were through, his business would be in ruins. Any money Abby thought she would take from the smitten man wouldn’t be worth the trouble Ruby would put them all through.
She’d made it very clear that if Abby Moore didn’t leave town by the end of the day, she would make Barnes’s life a living hell.
She had no delusions that Abby loved her fiancé. A gold digger like Abigail Moore wasn’t capable of love. She was a practical girl, however. She had learned her lesson the first time. She would move on and find easier prey.
Ruby sipped at the coffee. It wasn’t up to her standards, but it tasted like victory nonetheless.
14
Jack rode in from the south field with a mounting sense of anticipation. He gently prodded Ranger, his solid-brown gelding, and the horse moved easily toward the barn. It had been a long day. The south fence had several places he and Juan had been forced to replace entirely. It was hard work, but it was best to get it all done now while the weather was nice. The weather could be very unpredictable this time of year. It could get cold fast, and he didn’t want to be pounding fence posts in freezing temperatures.
Tipping his Stetson as he passed one of the wives of his ranch hands, he contemplated his current happiness. During his lunch break, he’d made arrangements for his marriage. The thought that he would soon have an honest-to-god wife made him smile. He’d always thought Sam would be the one to fall in love and Jack would allow him to have the legally recognized relationship. Loving Abigail changed everything, and he thought it would be for the better. He hoped Sam wasn’t disappointed, but Jack wasn’t letting their wife have any name but his.
And she would be taking his name, he promised himself.
She’d kept her maiden name when she married her first husband because she wanted to share her daughter’s last name, but Le
xi was a grown woman. That argument would never have worked with him. He would have insisted on adopting Lexi and changing her name as well. He was a possessive man. He’d long ago stopped fighting it. He didn’t get close to many people in the world, but the few he did, he considered his. Sam was his. Abby was his. He knew it was a weird relationship, but he didn’t care.
Jack dismounted and walked the gelding inside the barn.
He could still remember the day he met Sam like it was yesterday. Sam Fleetwood had looked terrified. Everything the boy owned was in one suitcase and a backpack. Jack remembered thinking it was more than he’d ever had. He’d been jealous of the kid. Sam looked all wide-eyed and innocent. He had an easy charm, even through his grief. A charm Jack had never known once in his life.
Jack had been sure that Fred Hall, the biggest bully in the group, intended to initiate young Sam that first evening. After lights out, it was pretty much a free-for-all as long as it was quiet. The monitor slept pretty soundly and didn’t really care what went on. Fred had tried that shit with him, but Jack was bigger than Fred and had easily handed him his ass. Jack had been vulnerable as a child, but once he’d gotten big enough to scare off people, he hadn’t been vulnerable again.
He wasn’t sure what made him get out of bed that night. It would have been easier to ignore it and continue the way he always had. Even at fifteen he’d been sure of himself. He knew he didn’t give a shit about anyone. It didn’t pay to care because people always let him down. The only foster parents who’d been kind to him had either died, like the elderly lady who’d called him son and made him dinner each night, or had sadly explained they couldn’t keep him anymore. There were more people, of course, but they had other reasons beyond simple kindness for letting him into their home. He could almost forgive the ones who had beaten the crap out of him. He’d been a difficult kid. He’d certainly heard it enough. He couldn’t forgive the two who had gone further than that. So his fifteen-year-old self had decided to just never care about anyone. That way he never had to be disappointed, and he never had to share his shame.
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