Blossom Street Brides

by Debbie Macomber

  “I don’t mean to offend you.”

  “I know.”

  “It’s just that I’d feel better if you read that background check your father had done on Rooster. Oh, for the love of heaven, doesn’t he have another name? I refuse to believe his parents named him after a chicken.”

  “It’s John. John Jerome Wayne. His father’s name was Jerome.”

  “John Wayne,” Elisa repeated.

  “I believe he picked up the name Rooster after one of the characters John Wayne played in the movies. Rooster Cogburn.” In fact, Lauren and Rooster had watched the western featuring John Wayne along with Katharine Hepburn earlier that week. Lauren had loved every minute and made Rooster promise they would never argue the way these two characters had.

  “Okay, just promise me one thing.”

  “I said I would.”

  “Read that report. Please, Lauren.”

  “What could it possibly say that would come as a surprise?” she demanded.

  “I don’t know,” Elisa cried. “Do you know how many times he’s been married?”

  “Yes, once. To me.”

  “And this story about his family. Isn’t that a tad convenient? Everyone is dead and he has no siblings. Doesn’t he keep in touch with his aunts and uncles? Surely there’s someone?”

  “None that he’s mentioned.”

  “That doesn’t tell you anything?”

  “No. You’re starting to sound paranoid. Don’t you trust my judgment?” Lauren asked her friend.

  “Yes, of course I do, but you know Dateline and 48 Hours are my favorite television shows. It always starts out well in these quick marriages, and then some shocking revelation comes out later.”

  “Okay, okay, I’ll read the report.”

  “Do it now.”

  “Now?”

  “Yes, before you go away, please.”

  “Elisa!”

  Perhaps her friend was right and she was being foolish and blinded by love. Her father had sent her the file, but if he hadn’t seen anything in Rooster’s background that alarmed him, then she sincerely doubted that she would, either.

  While Elisa opened the store for business, Lauren sat in the back office with her cellphone. It took only a minute or so to bring up the forwarded email from her father.

  Lauren breezed through the first few pages of the report. It showed nothing out of the ordinary. Rooster had gotten a number of speeding tickets in his twenties, she noticed. He seemed to have a need to drive fast even now, a habit he was working hard to break.

  It wasn’t until she reached the second-to-last page that she saw it. Her eyes widened as shock rippled through her.

  She needed a few minutes to digest what she’d read.

  How was this possible?

  How could Rooster not have mentioned something this important? Surely this was information she should know.

  In an instant, everything that had felt so beautiful and so wonderfully right seemed terribly, terribly wrong.

  “Lauren.” Elisa came into the back room.

  Lauren looked up and blinked, trying desperately to hide her shock and distress.

  “There’s a man out front asking for you.”

  “A man?”

  “He looks like he might be a biker or something.”

  Lauren slid off the chair and stood. It took a couple of minutes before she felt she could speak normally. “I think that might be Rooster … my husband.”

  “Your husband? That’s … Rooster?” Elisa shook her head several times as if she found the news too shocking for words. “Lauren, no. It can’t possibly be. Not him.”

  Lauren nodded. “Yes, him.”

  “But … the two of you. Lauren, you can’t be serious. Can’t you see how different the two of you are?” she asked in a pleading tone.

  Then Elisa, her closest friend, closed her eyes as if she couldn’t bear to watch this train wreck happening right in front of her.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  “What’s wrong?” Rooster asked, as soon as Lauren was outside John Michael Jewelers.

  In order to avoid answering him, she started walking toward the car he’d parked on Blossom Street. “I want to go back to my condo,” she said emphatically.

  “Did you forget something?”

  “No.”

  “Then why are we going back?” He looked at his watch as if to remind her the ferry to Victoria that he’d booked left within the hour.

  “Please, Rooster, I’ll explain everything once I’m home.” She needed to get someplace private where they could talk undisturbed. Her head buzzed and her mouth felt dry, but not from thirst.

  He gave her an odd look and seemed utterly perplexed. Well, he shouldn’t be. Lauren was badly shaken. Her nerves were stretched to the breaking point, and her stomach roiled in one huge knot.

  They rode in silence so loud it hurt her eardrums.

  As he drove, Rooster glanced her way once or twice, as if he was at a complete loss as to what had upset her. He should have known that she’d find out this information about him sooner or later. Elisa was right. She’d been naive and foolish, and stupid. Just plain stupid. She’d been caught up in this romantic fantasy that should be reserved for fairy tales. It took all the restraint she possessed not to press her forehead against the dashboard and close her eyes and pretend none of this was real.

  Rooster parked the car in the proper slot in her parking garage. They climbed out and didn’t speak until they reached her condo.

  They were barely inside the door when Rooster demanded, “Okay, what is it?”

  For the longest moment, Lauren couldn’t do anything more than stare at him.

  “Lauren, tell me!”

  “This morning,” she started, her voice faltering as she struggled with keeping the anger and disappointment in check. “When I first told Elisa we were married, she was shocked.”

  “So?”

  “So … she asked me if I really knew you.”

  “You know me,” he countered.

  “Do I, Rooster? Do I really know you?”

  “In the biblical sense, I would say you know me pretty darn well.”

  He might have thought he was funny, but Lauren wasn’t the least bit amused.

  Rubbing her palms together, she calmly stated, “Elisa asked if I’d read the background report my dad got on you.”

  “Had you?”

  “No, but my father had, so I didn’t think it was necessary.” What a fool she’d been.

  “So you read it this morning after Elisa suggested it might be a good idea? And something in the report badly shook you?” Thankfully, Rooster was good at filling in the blanks. Before she could answer, he added, “You realize those reports aren’t always one hundred percent accurate.”

  She wanted to believe that was the case with this one, but it was unlikely.

  “Lauren,” he pleaded, “tell me, what did you find that was so horrible that you can barely look me in the eye? Whatever it is, we’ll straighten it out.”

  For just an instant, hope flared that there had been a mistake, and yet, intuitively, she knew that might not be possible.

  “Rooster, please don’t lie to me. I need the truth.” Her words were a plea and a cry.

  He blinked hard. “I’ve never lied to you, Lauren. God as my witness, I’ve never lied.”

  “Then tell me. Is this your first marriage?”

  He couldn’t disguise his surprise. He opened his mouth and then quickly closed it again. “No.”

  Lauren felt her knees go weak.

  “I was married once before,” he added. “Years ago.” He walked across the condo and looked out the view window before finally turning around and sitting on the sofa.

  “So a marriage that took place ‘years ago’ doesn’t count?” she asked, unable to disguise her sarcasm. “Is that what you’re saying?”

  He gestured weakly, using both hands. “Lauren, get real. I’m nearly forty. Yes, I was married. I don’t un
derstand. What’s the big deal?”

  “The big deal, as you call it, is the fact that you completely forgot to mention this tiny detail about your past.”

  “So?”

  “And so what else has slipped your mind?” she demanded.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, losing his patience now.

  Interesting, when she called him on this, that he would get defensive. That raised her suspicions all the higher. Elisa wasn’t the only one who watched those true-crime series on television.

  She had more questions that demanded answers. “What about children, Rooster? Were there children?”

  “No.” He hesitated, and then reversed himself. “Yes.”

  “Is it yes or no?”

  He exhaled sharply. “Lacey was pregnant when we married and then later miscarried the baby.”

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “How would I know?” he snapped. “Women miscarry babies. It wasn’t anything I did, if that’s what you’re insinuating.”

  “What happened with the marriage?” she clarified.

  He walked away from her and kept his back to her. “You’ll have to ask Lacey.”

  “Unfortunately, she isn’t here for me to ask, but you are.”

  It seemed an eternity before he answered: “We were both young, immature. I had a night job.”

  “And she got lonely.”

  He shrugged. “Something like that. Like I said, we married too young, before either one of us was ready to settle down.”

  “How long were you married?”

  “Not long.”

  The vague answers upset her all the more. “A year? Five years? Ten?”

  “A year, maybe.”

  “Maybe?” she asked incredulously.

  “We lived together less than a year and then separated. It took a few months for the divorce to go through, so it might have been more than a year that we were legally married.”

  “In other words, you weren’t together that entire time?”

  “No. Come on, Lauren, it happened years ago. I don’t remember all the finite details. If you want to make a huge issue out of it, fine. It’s a part of my life I’d rather put behind me. You’re right, I should have told you. I would have in time.”

  “Why not before the wedding?” This was the burning question.

  “Because I didn’t feel it was necessary or important.”

  “Is there anything else you didn’t feel necessary to mention that I should know?”

  “No,” he all but shouted.

  “You’re sure about that?” she asked, her voice raised to the same volume as his.

  His gaze narrowed. “What did you do? Did you go digging for dirt in my past, is that it?”

  “I didn’t need to. It was all right there in the background check my father had done on you. My mistake was that I didn’t bother to read it.”

  “What else did you find?” he demanded.

  “You told me you were an only child.”

  His eyes widened, and he looked away. “Okay, you’ve got me there again. I did have a sister. She died when I was young, too young for me to remember her. So, technically, you’re right, I wasn’t an only child.” He walked into her kitchen and poured himself a glass of water, which he drank down in several large gulps. He set the empty glass down on the countertop and then stepped back.

  Lauren didn’t know what to say or if she should say anything.

  He remained in the kitchen and pressed his hands against the edge of the countertop as he leaned forward. “I’m beginning to get the picture here. You’re having second thoughts. Regrets. You’re feeling that you might have acted hastily and this marriage wasn’t such a great idea after all.”

  “I … I don’t know what I’m thinking.” Her head reeled. “I’m feeling confused and shaken.” Plus a dozen other emotions she had yet to identify that came at her like a boxer’s fists.

  “You’re unsure?”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “You don’t hide the fact that you were married from the woman you’re about to marry.” The least he could do was apologize, offer a plausible excuse. Anything.

  He studied her as though waiting for her to speak.

  “Would you have ever told me?” she asked, her voice low now, shaken as she was.

  “Of course. You have to admit we rushed into this marriage business.”

  “We talked every single day, Rooster. Every single day, oftentimes for hours.”

  “Fine. I’m guilty.”

  “I’ve lost faith in you—”

  “Faith in us, you mean,” he clarified.

  She didn’t respond.

  He walked around the counter and stood with the tips of his fingers in his jean pockets. “What do you want to do?”

  She didn’t know. The truth was, she didn’t have a clue what she could or should do. “I can’t answer that.” For all she knew, she might be completely overreacting. While it was true the news of this brief marriage had stunned her, the fact that he had purposely kept it from her cracked the foundation of trust. It was terribly early in their marriage to be confronted with a lie of omission from her husband.

  For the longest time they simply stood and stared at each other as if waiting for the other to make a decision.

  “I heard what Elisa said,” he admitted after a while.

  “When?”

  “Just now, while I was in the shop. You might want to know that for future reference.”

  “Know what?”

  “How clearly voices carry from the back office. Out of sight doesn’t mean the customer in front can’t hear the discussion going on behind the counter area.”

  Lauren felt the warmth invade her cheeks. So Rooster was privy to Elisa’s shock when she realized Rooster was the man Lauren had married. The motorcycle man who looked completely out of place in the high-end jewelry store. Anyone looking at him might assume he wouldn’t be able to afford to be shopping in that store.

  It deeply embarrassed Lauren that Rooster had heard her friend’s comments.

  “Do you share your friend’s sentiments, Lauren? Is that what this is really about? I don’t fit the image of the upscale, corporate ideal Elisa was expecting you to marry?”

  “No,” she returned quickly, perhaps a shade too quickly.

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Yes,” she insisted.

  The hard look in his eyes challenged her. “Perhaps you should have married Todd.”

  She shook her head.

  An awkward silence followed, and again it was Rooster who broke it. “Okay, now what?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “It might be a stretch here, but I’m making the assumption there will be no honeymoon.”

  Rather than respond verbally, she nodded.

  “That’s what I figured. So what would you like me to do?”

  Again, she was at a loss. “I … I don’t know.”

  “Would you like me to go away for a while?”

  She swallowed hard. “Perhaps that would be for the best. I need time to think this through.”

  “How much time?”

  She couldn’t answer that. “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll tell you what,” he said with a sarcastic edge. “I’m going to conveniently get out of here and give you all the time and the space you need. Just let me know when you’ve made up your mind about us.”

  That seemed the best option.

  “I only ask one thing.”

  She waited.

  “I’d appreciate it if you’d let me know, after these last few days,” he paused, “if you’re pregnant.”

  She nodded. “I should know within a couple of weeks.”

  He held her gaze for one long, intense moment and then walked out the door.

  It took a few minutes for the shaking to start, and when it did, Lauren collapsed onto her sofa. This wasn’t what she wanted, either, but now Rooster was gone and she was even more confused about their future
than ever.

  Chapter Thirty

  Knitting is a series of small steps, lovingly worked one stitch at a time on the path to becoming something tangible and cohesive. At the beginning you may fear that you are doing it wrong, but keep working through that fear. Sometimes the bigger picture isn’t apparent until you reach the end of your journey.

  —Michelle Miller,

  Fickle Knitter

  Lydia planned to open the yarn store Saturday morning and stay only a couple hours.

  Cody’s baseball game was scheduled for one o’clock, and there was a possibility her mother would be able to come home from the nursing facility later in the afternoon after the fall that had broken her arm. Casey was with Mary Lou now, as she had been every day since her grandmother had taken the tumble. It was discovered later that Mary Lou had suffered a minor stroke, resulting in the fall.

  Margaret was scheduled to work that afternoon and would close the shop at five-thirty.

  Lydia had just turned over the OPEN sign and had started to straighten out the window display when her first customer of the day arrived. It was Evelyn Boyle.

  “Morning, Lydia,” Evelyn said as she strolled into the shop. Whiskers didn’t stir from the front window as the bell chimed. The cat had grown fat and lazy, which wasn’t all that different from every other cat Lydia had ever owned.

  “Hi,” Lydia said, greatly relieved to see the other woman, especially now, when she could talk freely without fear of Casey overhearing the conversation. In fact, it was probably for the best that her daughter knew nothing about Lydia meeting with the social worker.

  “I’m circling back to see how everything is going since I last talked to you about Casey,” Evelyn stated.

  “On your day off?” Lydia teased. Evelyn was like a mother hen looking after her baby chicks. She sincerely cared about the children who were on her caseload and, more impressively, even those who’d been adopted or turned eighteen and were no longer wards of the state.

  “I heard about your mother,” Evelyn said. “I stopped by earlier in the week while you and Margaret were at the hospital and left you a message.”

  “I got it, and I meant to get back to you, but it’s been a bit hectic this week with Mom in the hospital.”