She took his hand. “I’m sorry. My dad can be that way sometimes.”
“He’s just doing his job.”
“Well, don’t you worry about a thing.” Ainsley could tell that nothing she was saying was making Wolfe feel better, so she decided it might be best not to say anything for a moment. She saw Garth pacing nearly in circles near the staircase, his hands clasped behind him. She excused herself and walked over to him.
“Garth,” she said in a severe tone, “what is going on?”
“How should I know?”
“Why did you come here?”
“Shouldn’t you be thanking me for saving your boyfriend?”
“You were up to something.”
Garth sighed and stopped pacing. “I just wanted to make sure his intentions were right with you.”
“You have got to be kidding me! You came over here to give Wolfe a lecture?”
“I was looking out for you. That’s all. Couldn’t you be a little more appreciative? I mean, who knows what would’ve happened to these two had I not shown up in the nick of time?” Garth glanced over at Wolfe. “So what’s the deal with him, anyway?”
“What do you mean?”
“The passing out. Twice now.”
“How do you know about the first time?”
“I know people at the theater.”
Ainsley sighed. “It’s none of your business. What’s wrong with you? You’re pacing over here like an expectant father. What’s the matter?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You’re not well acquainted with Miss Peeple.”
“Well enough to be concerned,” he said, though his eyes darted away. Ainsley sensed there was something more going on.
“I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
He stared out the window. “Yeah. Old people tend to want a lot of attention. Sometimes they become hypochondriacs later in life.”
Ainsley frowned. “Excuse me?”
Garth seemed to snap back into reality. “What? Oh … I mean … nothing. Who knows what’s going on?” He stood straighter and put on a more serious expression. “I hope she’ll be okay.”
“Let’s go to the hospital. She doesn’t have any family. She needs support.”
“I’m not sure I should leave the crime scene.”
Ainsley nearly shouted. “Crime scene?!” A few people turned around. Ainsley lowered her voice. “This isn’t a crime scene, Garth.”
“Not yet,” he said.
Ainsley was just about to say something she was probably going to regret when Wolfe stood and said, “I can take you to the hospital.”
“Really?” Ainsley asked.
“Sure. I’m as concerned as anyone. I want to know that she’s going to be okay.”
Ainsley walked back to Wolfe. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
She wasn’t sure who she was trying to reassure.
The news had apparently traveled fast, because when they arrived at the hospital, a small crowd had stationed itself in Missy Peeple’s room. Oliver Stepaphanolopolis, Martin Blarty, Mayor Wullisworth, and Melb Cornforth all gathered around her bed. Ainsley walked in the room first, followed by Wolfe and then Garth.
“How is she?”
“We don’t know,” Oliver said. “We’re waiting for the doctor.”
Garth pushed his way through the crowd and to her bedside, staring at her in the most uncanny way. “Miss Peeple?” he said loudly. Very loudly. So loudly everyone in the room gasped. “Miss Peeple?”
“Garth,” Ainsley said, making her way to the opposite side of the bed, “what are you doing?”
“She’s unconscious, you moron,” Mayor Wullisworth said in his deep, booming voice. “Shouting at her is hardly helpful.”
“Are you a doctor?” Garth snapped.
“She needs her rest,” Oliver said timidly from somewhere in the corner of the small room.
“Nobody in this room knows what she needs!” Garth said, and his fury made everyone take a small step back. “And I don’t think we’ve gotten a diagnosis yet.”
“What is wrong with you?” Ainsley said to him from across the bed.
“Nothing. I’m merely pointing out that nobody knows what’s going on here, so why are we all pretending that we do?”
“Well, something is seriously wrong, I think we can be sure of that,” Ainsley said.
Garth shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe … she’s … faking it.” Another gasp from the crowd. Garth looked around the room with mustered confidence. “I see that may take some of you by surprise. But let me assure you, I don’t come to my conclusion lightly.”
“Garth,” Ainsley said in a harsh whisper, “stop this! You’re acting crazy!”
“Am I? Or is she? Maybe she’s the crazy one!” Garth looked down at Miss Peeple. “Aren’t you, you old hag!”
“Garth!”
“What? Listen, people, step back. I’m going to prove my point once and for all.” He stooped down over Miss Peeple, and tapped her lightly on the cheek. “Come on, now. Game’s over. Time to wake up.” He tapped her cheek again. And again. And then harder. And harder. He had started to shake her shoulders, to everyone’s horror, when an unfamiliar voice from the back of the room said, “Excuse me. Please step aside.”
Garth let go of Miss Peeple, plopping her back onto her pillow. He stood back, befuddled.
“I’m Dr. Parsons. Who are all of you?”
Ainsley glanced coldly at Garth. “Concerned friends. She doesn’t have any family.”
“I see. Well, it’s nice of all of you to come, but I’m afraid Miss Peeple is going to need her rest.”
“What’s wrong with her?”
“She’s dehydrated,” Dr. Parsons explained. “It happens frequently in elderly people, and though this was a pretty severe case, with a lot of rest and fluids she’s going to be just fine.” Ainsley noticed Melb Cornforth at the back of the room. The poor lady was just standing there, and Ainsley felt so sorry for her, having to watch her boyfriend do such a horrific, public thing. Then Ainsley realized Melb was staring at Wolfe. She couldn’t take her eyes off him, and though it disturbed Ainsley for a moment, she thought Melb was probably so traumatized by the event that she was just in a zombielike state. Her mouth was even hanging open.
As the doctor ordered everyone out of the room, Ainsley quickly made her way around the small crowd and to Melb’s side. “Hi, Melb.”
Melb looked shaken as she acknowledged Ainsley. “Oh. Hi.”
Ainsley tried to be friendly in hopes of calming this woman’s nerves. She knew Melb well enough to say hi on a Sunday morning or to chitchat lightly at a potluck. But that was about it. “I just wanted to say that I’m looking forward to having you over for Thanksgiving dinner. I know Garth is really excited.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry. He hasn’t told you?”
“Told me what?”
Ainsley smiled, patted her lightly on the back, and winked. “Garth tells me you two are quite an item. He wanted you to join him at my house for Thanksgiving. I guess he hasn’t told you yet, but you’re of course very welcome.”
Melb’s confused expression was interrupted by Garth’s sudden presence. He squeezed Melb by the shoulders. “What’s going on here?”
“I was just telling Melb how glad I was that she’s coming to Thanksgiving dinner and—”
“Yes, well, this is hardly the time or place to think about roasting a turkey, is it?” He looked down at Melb, gave her a quick, unaffectionate smile, and looked back at Ainsley. “I’ll see you around.” He pulled Melb with him toward the door.
“Wait!” Ainsley said, grabbing his arm. “What in the world was going on back there? How could you think—?” She glanced at Melb, whose eyes were wide as saucepans and whose breathing had suddenly accelerated. She’d already been humiliated enough. “Never mind. I’m just glad Miss Peeple is going to be okay.”
Garth guided Melb down the hospital corridor and ar
ound a corner, out of sight. Ainsley shook her head. What had started out as a bizarre incident was becoming more bizarre by the minute. She turned to find Wolfe. She hoped he hadn’t freaked out too.
Melb stared into Garth’s wild eyes. He’d pushed her into a small supply closet and was now breathing hard as he stared at her. “If this is going to work, you’re going to have to play the part.”
“What part?”
“What do you mean ‘what part?’ The part of my girlfriend. My lover. Have you completely forgotten the plan?”
Melb stepped back, trying to breathe. “It all took me by surprise, that’s all. If you’re going to invite me to Thanksgiving dinner, you should probably let me know!”
Garth’s lip curled into a snarl. “You have to think on your feet. Be aware at all times! We’re madly in love,” he barked. “Can’t keep our eyes off each other. Thinking of each other 24/7. Is that so hard?”
She pointed a round finger at him. “Don’t talk down to me. This wasn’t my idea, and I’m only going along with this because—”
“—you’re as desperate as the rest of us.” Garth’s eyes narrowed at her. “Aren’t you?”
Melb stared at her shoes. “I don’t like deceiving people. And besides, this isn’t how it’s supposed to be.”
“How what’s supposed to be?”
“One of us is supposed to be desperate. I’m not arguing about that. And there is definitely supposed to be another love interest in the way. Someone who looks totally right but is really all wrong.” She glanced up at Garth. “But he should be pursuing me, not the other way around. And I’m certainly not supposed to be lying. I’m supposed to be the one with a pure heart who falls for the rebel who on the surface looks no good for me but in reality is what I needed my whole life.”
“What?”
Melb managed to look him in the eye. “It’s in the books.”
“What books?”
She bit her lip. “Romance novels.”
Garth clenched his jaw together as though trying to restrain himself from jumping forward and biting her. She clutched at her sweater. “That’s fiction, Melb.”
She blinked.
Garth continued. “It’s ludicrous to think that a damsel in distress gets swept off her feet by the man of her dreams, a rebel on the surface but a good guy at heart, and chooses a better life with him as opposed to a solid and secure life with a man of stability. That’s laughable! That doesn’t happen! Ever!” Melb felt her lower lip quiver, and Garth visibly calmed himself. He tried to smile at her. “A much more realistic scenario would be that two people pretend they’re in love in order to get the other two people, who incidentally really are in love, jealous so that they will come running back to us, the two people they really should be in love with, who, incidentally, are not rebels, but good and decent people, who, incidentally, have gone to church their whole lives.”
“Oh.”
“Now listen, Melb.” He placed a heavy grip on her shoulder. Melb shuddered. “This isn’t difficult. You look at me adoringly. I hold your hand protectively. We convince the world of our love. Boo and Ainsley won’t be able to resist.” He let go of her shoulder, his eyes growing a little distant. “Ainsley’s always been afraid of stability. Of courage. Of true love. Of everything I have to offer her. I think it has something to do with her mother dying.” He looked at Melb. “But I am the man for her. And you, obviously, have a thing for creep-o.” Garth cleared his throat. “Sorry.”
“He’s a lovely man.”
“I’m sure. So what we’re really doing here is saving the ones we love from making a horrible mistake. And in doing that, gaining true love ourselves.”
All Melb could see was Wolfe Boone’s face. He was so handsome. So tall. So strong. And his hair, messy and wild. For a moment she saw them on the cover of a book, his arm around her, while she looked ready to faint, one hand over her brow, with the sun setting in the background, yet somehow radiant light reflecting off every inch of their exposed skin. Her chest heaved at the thought, and before she knew it, she’d decided to become a writer. Boo could teach her and write down their love story for all to share. She smiled, then looked at Garth. “Okay.”
Garth sighed in relief. “Good. Now, let’s get outta here before somebody finds us in the closet.” Garth opened the door and walked out. Melb followed closely. But then Garth stopped, and Melb ran into him. She peeked around him to find Ainsley and Wolfe walking toward them down the hallway, both with amused looks on their faces.
“Breathe hard,” Garth instructed her in a harsh whisper. He then grabbed her shoulder and did a little light panting himself. Melb had never been in shape her whole life, and though walking a flight of stairs had always caused her to breathe hard, actually doing it on purpose was harder than she ever imagined. She was beginning to feel lightheaded.
“Um, hi …” Ainsley said as they passed by.
Garth smiled and squeezed Melb harder, crushing her to where she thought she might not be able to breathe at all. He let go of her as soon as they rounded the corner. Melb almost fell to the floor. Garth crossed his arms and said, “Well, that was a start. Their imagination can fill in the rest.”
Melb caught her breath, leaned against the wall, and wondered whether she, indeed, had enough energy to be in this kind of torrid love affair with a man she absolutely abhorred.
“For you, Wolfe, all for you,” she mumbled as they walked off.
CHAPTER 21
“I CAN’T BELIEVE you cook all this for Thanksgiving!” Wolfe was sitting at the breakfast table watching Ainsley count ingredients and make lists. She smiled and turned to him. They’d spent every day together since Missy collapsed, and somehow the company made both of them feel better.
“It’s my favorite day of cooking, even more than Christmas.”
“Why?”
“Well, at Christmas there are the presents, you know. But at Thanksgiving, it’s all about the food.” She wiped her hands on a dishrag and jotted another thing down. “It usually takes me a week to put it all together, and two days before to prepare and start baking. But it’s worth it. The more food, the more thankful people are!”
“It’s nice that you and your father invite people over.”
“It was my dad’s idea, a few years after Mom passed away. He has a good heart.” She looked up at Wolfe. “I know he seems a little intense right now. But the doctor confirmed Miss Peeple was dehydrated, so you’re off the hook.”
“At least as a suspect of a crime,” Wolfe said, leaning back in his chair. “I think I have a lot more to prove before he’ll like the idea of me dating you.”
Ainsley laughed. “I suppose that’s true. You’ll win him over. You won me over.”
Wolfe felt his heart skip a beat at those simple words. He’d never thought it possible.
“We have quite a guest list,” Ainsley continued, “I think more people than we’ve had any other year.”
“Do I know anyone who is coming?”
“You do now,” Ainsley winked. “You, of course. Reverend Peck. Garth and Melb. Miss Peeple, if she’s feeling up to it. Oliver Stepaphanolopolis. Mayor Wullisworth. Martin Blarty. My friend Marlee. Oh, and my brother.”
“You have a brother?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve never mentioned him before.”
“Well, we don’t see him much. He joined the army, and off he went. He comes home for the holidays when he can, and we stay in touch by phone, but he talks mostly to Dad. He’s a really nice guy. A teddy bear.”
“What’s his name?”
“Butch.”
Wolfe breathed his name. “Butch.”
Ainsley looked up from her task. “What? You sound worried.”
“A teddy bear of a guy named Butch? And in the army? I can’t imagine that he’s not going to be a little protective of his sister.”
“He’s actually in special forces now, and yes, he’s a teddy bear. I know you’ll love him.” Thief hopped up
onto the counter. “Thief! Down! You’re not allowed up here!” She practically had to shove the black feline off the counter. He hissed disapprovingly but went on his way. “That cat has no manners,” Ainsley said. “Dad treats him like a king instead of the furball he is. He thinks he owns this place!”
“Your dad doesn’t seem like a cat person.”
“I know,” Ainsley said. “He found Thief a few years after Mom died and for some reason just grew completely attached. It’s weird. If I had allergies, Dad would probably insist I find my own place. But Thief goes everywhere with Dad. They’re partners, I guess you could say.”
“So that accounts for all the cat doors around the house?” Wolfe had to chuckle. He’d noticed them before. Little cat doors everywhere.
Ainsley shook her head. “Weird, huh? I’m not kidding, there’s a cat door on every single door in this house, except the one leading out to the garage. Dad installed them so Thief has complete access.” She shook her head.
Wolfe’s thoughts drifted back to Butch. “Do you really think it’s a good idea I come to Thanksgiving dinner?”
“A good idea? Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I don’t think your father’s too fond of me, and I’m sure your brother will pick up on some of the vibes.”
Ainsley walked across the kitchen and leaned across the counter, her face near Wolfe’s. “I don’t care what either of them think, and I can invite anyone I want to Thanksgiving. So it’s final. You’re coming.”
Wolfe pressed his lips together, not sharing her confidence. “If you say so.”
She grinned. “Good. Besides, I wouldn’t dare let you miss all this great food!” Ainsley continued talking, mentioning that the Weather Channel was predicting some big Thanksgiving storm-of-the-century. Wolfe tried to listen, but all he could think of was meeting yet another Parker family member.
Her doorbell rang. Then it rang again. And a third time. “I’m coming, you moron!” Missy Peeple shouted, wobbling her way out of her easy chair. Her nice Yankee quilt, three generations old, fell onto the ground at her feet. She grumbled and grabbed her cane, shuffling across her dirty floor. A fourth time. “Settle down! I’m an old lady, you stupid— Oh, hello.”
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