The Jilting: Summer (Mandrake Falls Series Romance Book 1)

by Catherine Lloyd

  Ryder drew her to him. Scout was close enough to see the spasm in his jaw. “How could you think that even for a second? You wouldn’t try to force me to do anything. We’ve known each other since we were kids. Scout, you’re the only person who really does know me. We don’t play games—we tell each other the truth. Do you think I don’t know who you are, how you think, what you’re feeling? I know everything about you. You should have told me yourself.”

  Scout swallowed. “I thought I knew you but when you walked out at Christmas, it was a little like being jilted.” She laughed a little. “I can vouch for that since I’ve been officially jilted in front of the whole town. The feeling I had in the church was the same after you left, a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that wouldn’t go away. I shouldn’t have asked you to marry me, it was selfish. But Ryder, I didn’t think it was completely crazy—you gave me the key. I thought that was your way of telling me you wanted more. And then it was clear you didn’t and everything turned upside down. I didn’t know who you were anymore. I’m not sure I know who you are now. I’m sorry, Ryder, but I don’t.”

  Scout gently detached free of his grip. She was fighting down tears, determined he would not see her cry again. “I better get going before it gets dark.” She moved away. “It’s probably better if we separate anyway. You could act as a decoy. They’ll think I’m with you and follow the truck back to town. I’ll be fine here. I need to think. You can send help in the morning.”

  “Where are you going to bed down? You don’t even know where you are.”

  “I’ll figure it out.”

  “Which way is north?”

  “Ryder.”

  “I’ll leave you to it as soon as you tell me which direction is north.”

  “That way.” She pointed in what seemed the most northerly direction.

  “Wrong.” Ryder moved behind her. “Scout. I can’t leave you here in this wood.”

  She turned to meet his eyes. “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.”

  Scout started to shake.

  * * *

  WITH THE arrival of each guest, Lydia Rutherford’s tastefully decorated living room earned a chorus of approval.

  Fairy lights twinkled through gauzy white and gold netting twisted across the mantle and over the arched doorway separating the living room from the dining room. Fat gold and white candles glowed over white linens, their light reflected by the silver coffee set on the buffet table. Thick bunches of pink roses were crammed into crystal vases and set about the room.

  The room was a masterpiece. Even Martha Stewart would have approved.

  Guests crowded the couch, the love seat and the two armchairs. More bodies filled the dining room and spilled out into the back yard. Darlene suggested it was only polite to wait for the bride and groom before they cracked open the champagne. Everyone agreed. Five minutes later the corks were popping.

  “The longest five minutes of my life,” said Reverend Carver, pouring a glass for Mrs. Gurney.

  Let’s face it—the fact that the bride and groom were missing from their wedding reception only made it better. The party was the best that Mandrake Falls had ever seen. Gossip flowed as freely as the champagne. Noel Trace jilting Scout at the altar—at the altar, mind!—was the juiciest thing to happen in Mandrake Falls since Scout tried to burn down the gymnasium. They just wondered how poor Lydia was taking it.

  Lydia Rutherford listened to the talk from the kitchen, smiling as she set canapés on a large silver tray. Everything had worked out better than she imagined. Staid and predictable Noel Trace developing cold feet at the critical moment was a stroke of good luck. Strange luck, considering how badly he wanted this marriage but Lydia had had her doubts about him from the beginning. His aggressive pursuit of Scout before proposing marriage and then the push for an early wedding; Lydia had barely managed to talk them into waiting until June. It was all very fishy.

  She should be angry it ended this way. She’d had her heart set on a big June wedding the day Scout was born. A lot of time, money and energy had been expended for nothing. People expected her to be angry. But she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Noel was gone, the wedding was off, and she was strangely giddy with happiness.

  “Hank and I were talking and we think we should organize a search party to find Scout.” Darlene tottered into the kitchen on pink heels, champagne glass in hand.

  “Oh, thank you dear, but Scout is in good hands. Ryder is probably spoon feeding her a tube of frozen cookie dough between swigs of vodka even as we speak.”

  “The remedy of choice for a broken heart,” Darlene agreed sagely. “It was a funny coincidence Ryder being at the wedding. Scout said he wasn’t coming.”

  “Did she?”

  Robin entered the kitchen. “Are we talking about Ryder and Scout? Does anyone know why he was there? They’re taking a poll in the living room. Scout was totally shocked to see him. Did you see her reaction? She just completely lost it.”

  “Furious. You know how her ears glow red when she’s angry? Like that. Ryder was the last person she wanted at her wedding.”

  The two young women raised a pair of well-tended eyebrows at Lydia. “Well?” they asked in unison.

  “Does it really matter who was at the wedding? The wedding did not take place. Scout has bigger worries now than Ryder Dean.”

  “No kidding,” agreed Robin. “It’s the hot topic in the living room but no one knows what happened. What was with the note? Did Noel jilt Scout, or what?”

  “He must have. What other explanation could there be?” Lydia laid out the rest of the canapés, humming a little ditty she’d heard on the radio. She turned to Robin with the filled tray. “Would you be a love and hand these around for me?”

  “No disrespect, Lydia, but you don’t seem very upset that your daughter was just dumped at the altar.”

  “What’s going on?” Darlene got to the point in her usual blunt fashion.

  “Nature is taking its course. That’s what’s going on. Scout would not have been happy with Noel,” said Lydia. “I think it is clear she belongs with Ryder.”

  “What did you do?” Darlene had a warning in her voice.

  “Nothing! For heaven’s sake, I’m only stating the obvious. I always thought those two would marry one day.”

  “Which two?” Robin asked. “I’m confused.”

  “Scout and Ryder. Try to keep up,” Darlene said impatiently.

  Robin stared at Lydia, incredulous. “But you always insisted they were just good friends.”

  “Which they are, which is why I thought they’d get married. Friendships as intense as Scout and Ryder’s usually have a way of keeping other members of the opposite sex out. In Scout’s case, it was very successful. That girl didn’t have a date one Saturday night out of four.”

  “I totally agree with that,” Darlene said. “Ryder did her no favors, making her one of the guys. Scout wasn’t impressed by boys and boys need to be admired. Scout was the girl but they all treated her like a guy. No wonder she jumped at marrying Noel. He was an outsider; he saw a girl, he treated her like a girl.”

  “What’s all this?” Walter eyed them from the doorway. “Ryder treated Scout like a girl.”

  “Did he ever kiss her?”

  “Good God, I should hope not. They used to go on those overnight trips in Green Mountain Park. We worried about those, Lydie, remember? I mean, they weren’t little kids anymore. We sat them down one night and laid it out, hormones and all that.”

  Lydia laughed. “We talked to them about sex. They looked at us like we were from Mars. It had never entered their heads, not with each other, anyway. They said they were buddies and they wanted it to stay that way.”

  “But that’s what I mean,” Darlene persisted. “If Ryder saw Scout as a girl he would’ve kissed her. That’s what sixteen-year-old boys do with girls. Unless he just had above-average self-control.”

  “Wel
l,” Robin said slyly, “I still think something happened on Prom night. Scout was awfully cagey when we asked her about it.”

  “Prom night?” A young woman with long blonde hair, a shade Lydia knew came from a bottle, wandered into the kitchen. “What’s this about Prom night?”

  “We were reminiscing, Cindy. You went to Prom with Ryder, didn’t you?”

  “Well, I tried. I managed to get one dance before he left me to run after Scout. That’s a lousy memory I’ll have forever. People should be jailed for ruining a person’s Prom.” Cindy reached for a canapé from the tray in Robin’s hand and popped it into her mouth.

  “What happened to Scout’s date? Where did Joel go?”

  “He took Tina to the ridge. She told me they spent the night making out. Tina had a thing for Joel all through school. She wasn’t going to say no, if you know what I mean. Joel ditched Scout for a better offer.”

  “Poor baby.” Lydia sighed. “It seems to be a trend.”

  “Hey, you’re right,” said Cindy. Her pale blue eyes widened. “Dumped on Prom night. Dumped at the altar. If Scout got therapy, she could get to the bottom of her problem.”

  “How do you figure she has the problem here?” Darlene had a dangerous look in her eye.

  “It’s obvious from the men she chooses—they all leave her. Scout has intimacy issues.” Cindy shrugged and tossed her blonde head. “Noel had barely unpacked and Scout was on his doorstep hiring him to do her books.”

  “He’s an accountant. All the businesses were thrilled to finally have a certified accountant in town.”

  “But we didn’t set our sights on marrying him three months later. A man she hardly knew.”

  “I’m sure you have a point, Cindy,” Lydia interjected. “But getting married so soon was Noel’s idea, not Scout’s. I think she would have preferred to wait until the fall when Ryder could attend the wedding.”

  “Intimacy issues,” Darlene snorted. “Scout is closer to Ryder than most of us are to our husbands. I remember the look on her face when he led her out onto the dance floor on Prom night. She doesn’t have any problem with intimacy.”

  “If she has such an intimate relationship with Ryder, then why was she marrying Noel?”

  “As fascinating as this is, ladies,” Walter interjected with a cough, “Scout would be mortified if she knew we were standing around the kitchen gossiping about her. She’s a very private young woman.”

  “Hey Darlene!” Hank called from the living room. “What’s holding up the food? People are getting hungry out here!”

  Darlene grabbed a filled tray, shooting Cindy a hostile glance, and marched out of the kitchen. Lydia wouldn’t want to be in Cindy’s shoes at her next hair appointment; irritating Mandrake Falls only hairdresser was a dangerous business. Robin and Cindy followed Darlene out of the kitchen leaving Lydia alone with her husband.

  “Scout is a private young woman? Since when?”

  Walter grinned. “I had to do something. Darlene was growing homicidal. Lydie, what are we going to do about Scout? If she’s with Ryder, I won’t worry but if she’s alone....”

  “She’s with Ryder, dear. He won’t leave her alone. Scout is in good hands.”

  “All right then, if you’re sure. I know she’s safe with Ryder. As long as he brings her home before midnight, that’s all I ask. I’m too old for this.”

  Lydia smiled and put her arms around her husband.

  “You have that Mona Lisa look on your face. Should I ask what’s going on?”

  “I was thinking that it’s a full moon tonight. Anything could happen under a full moon.”

  Lydia laughed at her husband’s puzzled expression. She would never tell him that her fondest wish was that with a little luck and a full moon, Ryder Dean would keep her daughter out all night.

  * * *

  THE TOWER had been out of use for over thirty years.

  “That’s the hideout?” Scout asked. She eyed the structure doubtfully.

  When helicopters replaced manned lookout towers for spotting fires many were left to fall to ruin or were torn down when they became hazardous to curious hikers. In parts of the country abandoned lookouts were being restored and in some cases put into use.

  “The Forestry Service must have lost track of this one,” Ryder said. “It’s in a bad location. The elevation isn’t high enough here. I discovered it last year. Considering its age, it’s in pretty good shape don’t you think? A real beauty.”

  “How old is it?”

  “This lookout was probably built in the early thirties. They were called ‘Aladdins’. See the gable roof?”

  “It looks like a death trap. That’s got to be a hundred feet up. What if the ladder gives way?”

  “I’ve climbed it myself, Scout. It’s safe. These babies were built to last. Eventually I’ll get something organized with state forestry to have it restored but it’ll make one hell of a hideout tonight. It’s got everything.”

  Scout squinted at the tower apprehensively. “If you say so.”

  Ryder wasn’t listening. He had already pushed ahead of her, breaking a trail through the brambles and small trees to the tower’s base.

  “Come on!” he shouted and started up the ladder.

  “Ryder?” Scout was experiencing the old childhood panic that gripped her whenever she was in tall grass. “Do you think there are snakes nearby?”

  Ryder swore loudly. “This isn’t happening—after what we’ve been through you’re scared of a little garter snake?” He dropped from the ladder and pressed his way back through the underbrush to her side. “It’s time you got over this phobia.” He dropped to one knee. Scout climbed onto his back and he carried her piggy-back style through the brush. “You live in the country; you’re going to run into a snake sooner or later.”

  Not if I can help it, Scout thought, and hugged Ryder’s neck tighter.

  The ladder was steep. Scout was out of breath by the time she reached the top. Ryder had climbed ahead of her to push up the heavy trap door. He waited until she was safely inside and then carefully flipped it shut to avoid the sound reverberating over the mountain. It was dark inside the shuttered tower; the air was stale with the silent decades of dust.

  “I stored some matches and a lantern up here last summer for emergencies. If hikers didn’t find them, they could still be here.” He opened the lid of a metal chest and began groping around inside.

  Scout waited until her eyes became adjusted to the gloom before moving. She didn’t trust the squeaking boards beneath her feet; visions of plummeting one hundred feet to the ground froze her to the spot until she could see where she was going. Dusk seeped in through the gaps in the plywood panels covering the window openings. She could make out the tower’s interior, fourteen-by-fourteen feet, she guessed. The furnishings consisted of a cot against one wall, a rickety wooden table and the metal chest opposite.

  “Are you hungry?” Ryder was holding up a couple of tins.

  “Starving. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

  “I think this one is beans.” He peered at the labels. “And this is Spam.”

  “I’m not eating pre-war Spam.”

  He set a match to the small lantern at his side. “This stuff has only been here a year, look at the label.”

  She examined it in the soft glow of the lantern. The label did look new. She probably had food in her office fridge that was older. “Are they yours?” Scout eyed him, suspiciously. “Were you stocking up for emergencies or were you planning on moving in? This is truly off the grid, Ryder. No one would find you here.”

  Ryder only smiled and plunged into the metal chest again. “Hallelujah.” He produced an amber bottle. “It’s still here. The scotch.”

  “Something useful at last. I could use a drink after today.”

  “Coming up.”

  Scout took the lantern and peered at their surroundings. “Do you think we’ll be safe here? This is a really tall tower. Roy and Terry won’t have any trouble
guessing where we are if they spot it.” She set the lantern on a wooden crate next to the cot.

  “They can only see it if they are miles away but making it through the bush in the dark to reach it wouldn’t be easy. I’m betting they’ll head for town thinking that’s where we’ve gone. We’ll be safe for the night.”

  “The night? I can’t spend the night here with you.”

  “Why not?”

  “My parents will be frantic by now.” Scout stalled.

  “Your mother knows you’re with me; she knows you’re safe. Here, drink this.” Ryder handed her a mug of scotch. “It’ll settle your nerves.”

  “My nerves are fine.”

  “Why are you shaking?”

  Scout looked down at her quivering hands. “I’m cold.”

  “It’s June, Scout.”

  “I’ve had a very stressful day.”

  Ryder was watching her like he could see right through her. The thought of spending the night with him had her shaking with excitement and longing. He would be horrified if he knew what was going on inside her body at the moment. He would panic, or worse—he would let her down gently. Then they’d be stuck together for the whole night, pretending not to feel awkward.

  “Take a sip.” Ryder brought the cup to her lips. “You don’t look well. Your face is red.”

  “I’m fine,” Scout croaked. “Hot. It’s just a little hot in here.”

  “A minute ago you were cold. Maybe you’re coming down with something.” Ryder pressed his hand to her cheek.

  Scout jumped, slopping scotch down the front of her shirt.

  “Whoa, Scout, relax. Maybe you should lie down.”

  “Good idea. My legs are like rubber.” Ryder caught her under her arms as she slid to the floor.

  This must be shock, Scout thought dimly, but she was shaking too hard to catalogue her symptoms. Ryder was holding the cup to her mouth, telling her to drink and she felt warm liquid slide down her throat. The scotch was remarkably restorative. Scout felt her strength returning and with it, a hot pressure behind her eyes.