32
Marcus had made it as far as the porch of the boardinghouse undetected and thought he was home free, but ran into Rachel Hutchins as she was bringing in her pug from being walked.
“Marcus?” she asked, her eyes wide. “What are you doing here at this hour?”
He considered lying, but he was in such a good mood this morning, he decided not to. “If you must know, I spent the night with Alicia Waters.” He gave her a mock salute. “Have a nice day.”
Her outraged gasps followed him off the porch, but he didn’t care.
He felt almost weightless. He was in love for the first time in his life, and he was going to enjoy it.
True, Alicia hadn’t exactly reciprocated with her feelings about him, but he couldn’t have imagined the connection they shared. He wasn’t a playboy, but he wasn’t a monk, either—he’d had his share of liaisons, some of them rather nice.
But none of those women had made his heart race just by stepping into a room.
Or made him feel as if she was looking into his soul when she set those amazing brown eyes on him.
This was different than anything that had ever come across his heart before.
On the way to the construction office, he appraised the clean streets, sidewalks and storefronts with wonder and appreciation. Daylight was just beginning to break, and unless someone looked very closely, the town looked much like it had yesterday morning, before the tornado had ripped through.
When he reached the office and unlocked the door, he was whistling, eager to work for the first time in ages, because now it didn’t seem as if work was the only thing he had to live for.
He plunged elbow-deep into a stack of paperwork that still needed to be completed before the official deadline of the federal grant. After the disastrous day they’d had yesterday, it seemed unlikely the inspectors would give them passing marks—a fire of any kind was never good, but a fire in the plant that served as a model for the industry on which they were building the town seemed unrecoverable. Especially since the D.O.E. team had had a front-row seat to the fact that it had taken his firemen so long to extinguish the blaze that had started in one of their processing containers after the storm had caused a short. Granted, once paper and compost ignited, it was like burning fuel, but still…they should’ve been more prepared. They were very fortunate that no one had been injured.
But if the unlikely happened and the grant payment was approved, he didn’t want to risk losing out on a paperwork technicality. What he’d been putting off for weeks, he now tackled with a renewed zest, and little by little, his “done” pile grew taller than his “to do” pile.
Around eight, he stopped to stretch and make another pot of coffee. The office door opened and both of his brothers came tumbling in.
“Toldja,” Porter said to Kendall.
“What?” Marcus asked.
“This morning when we saw your bed hadn’t been slept in, Kendall thought you’d spent the night with a certain lovely diner manager. But I told him you’d probably spent the night here, working.”
Marcus sipped from his mug.
“Well?” Kendall asked. “Did you?”
“Did I what?”
“Lose your virginity,” Kendall said dryly.
Marcus laughed heartily.
“Oh…my…God,” Porter said, his eyes wide.
Kendall boxed Porter’s ear. “Toldja.”
“Do you idgets want some coffee?” Marcus asked.
“Not if you made it,” Porter said.
“I’ll make a new pot,” Kendall offered, reaching for a new filter.
Marcus smiled to himself. His brothers knew when to poke him, and when to circle. He appreciated them more than they would ever know.
“Have you seen the D.O.E. team this morning?” he asked.
Kendall nodded. “They were having breakfast, and I said hello. But they were pretty stand-offish.” He frowned. “I don’t think that bodes well.”
“How were things at the diner?” Marcus asked lightly.
“Great,” Kendall said. “Except when I walked in, I thought it was on fire again.”
Marcus’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”
“There was this glow all around. Turns out it was just the big beaming smile on the face of the manager.”
“Good one,” Porter said.
“I thought so,” Kendall said.
Marcus grinned in spite of himself…and his good mood lasted all morning.
Shelby and Emory and Dr. Maxwell stopped by. The couple were both radiant over the fact that they were expecting a baby and surprised Marcus with the news that they’d decided to move back to Sweetness and reopen Moon’s grocery, in memory of Shelby’s father.
He was happy for them, but even as he was hugging Shelby and shaking Emory’s hand, he couldn’t help wondering if the town of Sweetness would still be around for them to come back to. But for their sake, he remained upbeat.
Dr. Maxwell stayed behind after the couple left and his demeanor was suddenly awkward.
“Something on your mind, Dr. Maxwell?” Marcus asked.
“Marcus, you can call me Cletis, you know.”
He inclined his head to the man he’d known his entire life. “Sorry, old habits die hard, but okay… Cletis.”
The man held a worn fedora and was twisting it as if he were wringing it out. “The thing is, I’d like your blessing to court Emily.”
Marcus’s eyebrows shot up. This he had not seen coming…although, in hindsight, he should have. He lifted his hands. “I think that’s between you and my mother.”
“I agree,” Cletis said. “But I also know how your mother felt about your father and how she feels about you boys. She wouldn’t see me if she thought you disapproved. You, especially, Marcus.”
“I appreciate that…and for what it’s worth, you have my blessing.” He stood and extended his hand to one of the best men he’d ever known. “Be happy.”
Dr. Maxwell looked like a teenager who’d just passed parental approval of the girl he wanted to take to the movies. “I’ll take good care of her, son.”
“I know you will.”
The man jammed his battered hat on his head and left grinning.
Marcus shook his head in wonder. Life continued to surprise him.
He glanced at the clock—it was nearly noon. The ceremony to announce the new name of the diner wasn’t for another hour, but maybe Alicia would have time to have lunch with him. If not, he could simply sit at the counter and ogle her.
He smiled and headed toward the diner, taking note of the nice weather. The storm system that had roared through yesterday had ushered in cooler temperatures. It was perhaps the nicest day they’d had since spring, fitting for the crowds that had arrived for the day of festivities. Coverage of the tornado and subsequent cleanup had been good publicity—Main Street was positively hopping.
It was a word he never thought he’d use to describe Sweetness.
“I need to take a quick break,” Alicia said to Clancey.
His eyes rounded. “Now? Half of Atlanta is here.”
“I’m sorry—the artists’ market is closing in a few minutes and I promised my mother I’d stop by her booth. I’ll be back before you miss me.”
“I’m only not mad because you seem so incredibly happy today, and I want you to stay that way.”
She grinned. “You’re a gem.”
“Go.”
Alicia threaded her way through the crowded diner and walked out to peruse Main Street, which had been blocked off to car traffic. If she didn’t know better, she’d think she was on a market street in SoHo. White tents that housed artists and their wares lined the street, and were packed with customers. News cameras and vans in the distance reflected the popularity of the story of Sweetness bouncing back from not one, but two tornadoes. She had a feeling the hours of the market would be extended to accommodate the astonishing crowds, but she wanted to at least stop by and say hello.
&
nbsp; She found her mother’s tent and was gratified to see that she was doing a brisk business. Candace was animated and pretty, wearing many of her own pieces designed from recycled metals, glass and bits of plastic. Her mother’s talent fit in perfectly with the town’s recycling theme, and customers seemed to love her work.
Robert stood by, gazing at Candace with loving eyes, and waiting on customers. No one would guess he was a high-powered attorney who earned eight figures. Alicia wondered if the two of them would settle into a more laid-back lifestyle than before. It suited them, she decided.
He spotted her and waved. “Isn’t this great?”
She nodded, waving at her mother. Candace pointed to Alicia’s wrist where she wore the bracelet her mother had given her, and smiled wide.
Alicia touched the bracelet and smiled back. Her mother would be pleased to know the role the bracelet had played in getting her and Marcus together.
“She’s so talented,” Robert said.
“Yes,” Alicia agreed. “I think she’s finally decided what she wants out of life.” She gave him a pointed look and he blushed like a schoolboy.
“We’re going to give it another try.”
Alicia’s heart swelled. “I’m so glad, Daddy.”
“You haven’t called me that in a long time. I like it.”
He hugged her and she thought how odd it would be to have normal parents after all this time.
Her phone rang. She checked the caller ID to see it was Nina calling. “I need to get this and get back to the diner. Tell Mom I’ll see her later.”
She walked away from the crowd and answered. “Hi, Nina. I guess you got my message about the blog series.”
“Yes,” Nina said. “Too late.”
Alicia gripped the phone tighter. “What do you mean too late?”
“I told you I would ask that they wait until Monday, but the editor wanted to run the series now to coincide with a piece they were already doing on the tornado.”
“Now?” Alicia said, her heart pounding.
“Yes, now…today. They published the series this morning.”
33
When Marcus arrived at the diner, a crew of workers was preparing to hoist the covered sign bearing the new name of the diner for the unveiling. He wandered over and surreptitiously pulled back enough of the tarp covering the name to be able to make it out.
Molly’s.
He smiled—it was perfect, of course. Alicia had probably chosen it to help repair his friendship with the colonel. And it would work—Molly would be thrilled.
His heart squeezed when he thought of Alicia…he was eaten up with it. He walked into the diner and scanned the crowd, but didn’t see her. Clancey caught his eye and gestured him over.
“She’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He didn’t mind that the man assumed he was looking for Alicia. In fact, he kind of liked it. “Thanks, man.”
Marcus leaned against a wall and surveyed the scene before him. Conversation and laughter abounded. Oldies music played overhead and some of the little kids were dancing. A bulletin board with customer photos was getting a lot of attention. It was just the kind of place he’d hope it would become, in just the kind of town he wanted to preserve for his own children.
He looked up to see Rachel Hutchins headed his way, with a thundercloud on her forehead. He straightened, wondering what had the woman so riled up.
“Look. At. This.”
He glanced down at a magazine she held, opened to a page. “What is it?”
“A replacement copy of Feminine Power magazine I received this morning. Imagine my surprise when I recognized one of their feature columnists.”
He took the magazine and frowned at the name. Alicia Randall. He squinted at the picture. His Alicia. Then he read the name of the column— Undercover Feminist.
Confused, he looked back to Rachel. “I don’t understand.”
“Neither did I. So I did some digging on the internet this morning. Imagine my surprise when I found this.”
She opened a folder that held photocopies of an article titled “Southern Town Seeks Single Women for Servitude.”
His brain didn’t seem to be processing at the moment. “What am I looking at?” he asked.
“It seems that your girlfriend is actually Alicia Randall, a renowned feminist writer who came to Sweetness undercover and has been recording the activities of our people since she arrived.”
His mind raced—the invalid social security number, the notes about customers on her order pad. “What…what kinds of things?”
Rachel read from one of the copies with yellow highlighting. “The three brothers who run the town ran an ad in the newspaper next to ads for cattle and sheep.”
Marcus’s mouth tightened.
“Talk to the women who answered the ad, and you’ll quickly see what a sad, desperate lot they are to stay… The men and women live separately, like some kind of cult… Talk to the man who runs the town, and you’ll see why things are the way they are—he’s the most arrogant, misinformed, chauvinistic man I’ve ever met…it will be a pleasure for the Undercover Feminist to take him down a notch.”
Rachel’s face was mottled red. “This was posted on a nationally syndicated blog this morning. It’s all over the internet. She’s made fools out of all of us.”
Marcus couldn’t breathe. He was the biggest fool of all…he’d shared his secret of the gold with a journalist? It would sweep the internet, and of course the D.O.E. team would find out. Richardson said he had an alert set up to be notified when Sweetness was mentioned. He would no doubt see this garbage, too.
Nikki and Amy walked up. “It looks intense over here,” Nikki said jokingly. “What’s going on?”
Rachel handed both of them copies of the article, and walked around passing them to other residents.
Marcus closed his hand around the piece of paper. How could he have been so blind, so trusting? All of the signs had been there…even Amy had told him Alicia seemed like someone who was just passing through. He didn’t want to see it. Even now, his mind churned for some kind of explanation. He didn’t want to believe it was true.
The door opened and Alicia walked in. He locked gazes with her, and the truth hit him like a kick to the gut.
Alicia’s knees threatened to buckle. Marcus knew.
Rachel charged toward her, holding up a printed copy of the blog series that had been posted. “I knew you looked familiar! You spilled that drink on my magazine on purpose because you were afraid I’d recognize you.” Alicia glanced around, saw that Rachel had distributed copies. Stony stares were angled in her direction.
“I’m sorry—” Alicia began.
“You’re sorry?” Rachel said, her voice high. “No, I’m sorry…for you. Maybe the women who came here didn’t have the glamorous life of a Manhattan journalist, but we’re good people. We would never befriend someone under false circumstances and then betray that person for our own gain…and entertainment.”
Alicia pressed her lips together. The woman was right. These people were better than her.
“Leave,” Rachel said. “You don’t deserve to live here.” She tossed a stack of the photocopied articles at Alicia’s feet.
A wall of tears pressed on her eyes. Marcus strode toward the door, but wouldn’t look at her. When he walked out, she followed him and snagged his arm. “Marcus, let me explain.”
He looked at her, but his intense blue eyes had gone stone cold. “What’s left to say?”
“It’s true. I came here intent on proving how this place had set back women’s rights by fifty years, but I was wrong. I tried to stop the story from being posted, but I was too late.”
“That’s convenient,” he said, his voice hard. “And the story about our gold—when does that go up on the internet?”
She blinked. “It won’t. I would never betray your confidence.”
He held up a copy of the article he held fisted in his hand. “This says otherwise.”
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She choked back a sob. “Marcus, I love you. I want to make this right.”
He bit out a harsh laugh. “I think Rachel spoke for all of us.” He turned his back and walked away, anger punctuating every step.
Alicia’s heart crumpled.
She was numb as she walked back to the boardinghouse. Inside, everyone she passed had a highlighted copy of the blog series. The women glared at her, then turned away. She hurried up the stairs to escape their deserved censure. Once she was in her bedroom, her tears fell freely. She sobbed as she threw her few personal things into a suitcase. Most of the items were her mother’s so she’d leave those for Candace. She would call her parents when she got on the road and explain what happened.
For now, she just wanted to leave this place—and these memories—as soon as she could.
34
Marcus was so disoriented, he made it back to the construction office on muscle memory alone. His entire body ached with pent-up emotion. His mind sprinted ahead, to how he was going to explain to his brothers that he’d been so hoodwinked by a pair of brown eyes that he’d divulged the one secret that would ensure they would lose Sweetness forever.
He’d failed his father…he’d failed his brothers…he’d failed an entire town.
When he walked into the office, the desk phone was ringing. He picked up the receiver, then slammed it down again.
He opened the copy of the article and scanned her picture. She looked overconfident…powerful…cold. Self-recrimination coursed through his blood. How could he not have seen through her? She hadn’t even told him her real name…from there he guessed it was just one lie after another. How she must’ve been laughing at him for his awkwardness around her, how she must’ve laughed at them all. Rachel had said she was from Manhattan. Sweetness had probably seemed pathetically backward and dull in comparison.
She probably thought he was a hayseed, easily manipulated.
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