by Meg Benjamin
Still, she kept looking out the front window every now and then, checking to see if anyone was headed her way. Not that they would be, of course. But still.
While there was no sign of Lorne Barrymore, what she saw when she looked out the window at mid-morning was almost as unsettling. A valkyrie was striding across her meadow.
The woman had to be at least six feet tall. Jess considered herself to be a tall woman at five ten, and at one point in her life she’d been in very good shape, at least athletically. The valkyrie, on the other hand, was in the kind of shape that probably stopped all conversation when she entered a room, at least among the men. Her bright red hair was mostly held up on top of her head by a plastic banana clip, although strands had begun to come loose and float around her face. She wore blue jeans and a cambric shirt that looked butter soft. And her expression seemed to indicate she was not a woman to mess with.
Jess opened the door as she reached the front porch, and Daisy rocketed through beneath her arm. “Aunt Docia!” she shrieked. “Come meet Jack. We’re playing blocks. You can help.”
The woman caught Daisy up around her waist, half-tossing her into the air. “Hey, pumpkin! It’s good to see you.”
She turned to Jess, tucking Daisy neatly under one arm and extending her hand. “Hi. You must be Jess. I’m Docia Toleffson, Cal’s wife, Daisy’s aunt.”
Jess took her hand a little warily, wondering why Docia Toleffson had taken it upon herself to visit her niece in the middle of the morning.
Docia didn’t seem to notice, maybe because Daisy had squirmed out of her arms and was pulling her across the room as soon as she stepped inside the door. “C’mon, Aunt Docia. Come see Jack.”
Jack had crawled halfway off his blanket, trying to catch Daisy when she’d run away. Now he sat back on his haunches and grinned up at Docia Toleffson, hopelessly in love once again.
Lordy, at this rate, the kid was going to have his heart broken multiple times by the time he was ten.
Docia knelt beside him, her lips spreading in a soft grin. “Hi, Jack,” she murmured. “Aren’t you a sweetie!”
Jack giggled, reaching dimpled fingers toward her face.
“Careful,” Jess cautioned. “He loves hair and I don’t think he’s ever seen anything quite like yours before.”
Docia slowly moved her forehead close to Jack’s, pulling loose the banana clip to let her scarlet hair hang free. “You like redheads, Jack?”
“Jack likes everybody,” Daisy sang.
Jack grabbed handfuls of hair on either side of Docia’s face, chortling in delight, then pulled her closer.
Docia leaned forward, pursing her lips. “Boy, you are one strong baby!”
Jess winced. Nobody ever seemed to believe that Jack could pull hair as hard as he did. She knelt beside Docia, loosening Jack’s fingers. “C’mon, kid. You’ve had your fun. Go play blocks with Daisy now.”
Reluctantly, Jack let go, then settled back on his rear again, watching as Daisy began to pile wooden blocks in front of him.
Docia grinned at her. “Boy’s got quite a grip! Probably a major career in tug of war.” She stood, brushing her hands on her knees.
Jess took a deep breath and tried to remember how to be a hostess. She hadn’t done it for over a year. “Would you like some coffee? Or did you want to take Daisy somewhere? Mr. Toleffson didn’t mention anything about it this morning, but I could call him. I’m sure it would be all right.”
Docia shook her head. “I’d love to take Daisy with me, but I can’t. I’m due back at the bookstore in ten or fifteen minutes. I just wanted to meet you since I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Oh?” Jess stared at her, trying not to hear alarm bells. What was Lars Toleffson saying? And to whom?
“Daisy talks about you and Jack all the time,” Docia explained. “You’re her main topic of conversation these days.”
Jess wondered if she looked as much like a moron as she felt. “Daisy’s terrific. She’s great with Jack. I think he’s in love.”
Docia chuckled. “Those Toleffsons tend to do that. People are always falling in love with them. I should know.” Her smile became a little crooked. “We’re so glad Lars decided to settle up here, finally. Now Daisy’s got a whole pack of uncles and aunts to spoil her.”
Jess felt a quick pang. Jack wouldn’t ever have that. No uncles to play with him. No grandparents to fuss. Just his mother, who was doing her best to make sure the only family Jack had left never got their claws into him.
“Are you from around here, Jess?” Docia raised a questioning eyebrow.
Jess shook her head. “We’re from back east. But we haven’t lived there in a while.” Good wishy-washy answer.
“No family nearby?”
Jess shook her head again. “What about you?”
“My mama and daddy live in San Antonio. Pete’s wife Janie is actually from Konigsburg. The guys’ parents are in Iowa but they’re talking about moving down here since everybody else in the family already has.”
“That’s nice,” Jess murmured absently.
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Docia’s eyes narrowed a little, then she grinned as she turned back to watch Daisy and Jack. “Anyway, we’ve got lots of relatives all over the place what with Toleffsons and Kents and Duprees.”
Jess suddenly made the connection. “Is your husband the veterinarian?”
Docia nodded. “He’s a partner in the clinic over on West. If you have any pets, he’s your man.”
“I don’t, but…” Jess watched Jack pick up a block, pushing it toward Daisy. “Well, I was thinking about maybe getting a puppy. I mean, we’re sort of isolated out here. But I don’t know what kind of dog to look for, what with Jack and Daisy.”
“Cal could help you. He’s always got puppies and kittens he’s trying to place so they won’t have to go to the pound in Kerrville.”
“Maybe I’ll talk to him.”
“So if you don’t have any family around here, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?” Docia glanced back at her.
“Helping out with the tourists here—I think we’ve got a full house. Isn’t that the busy season in town? I know the cabin’s booked all weekend.”
Docia nodded. “Right, the beginning of the nightmare that is the Christmas shopping season. But surely they won’t need you on Thanksgiving Day. The guests will have their own plans, right?”
Jess’s wariness rose again. “Maybe. I guess so. I hadn’t really thought about it.”
“Good.” Docia nodded decisively. “You can come have Thanksgiving with all of us. Daisy will love having Jack around and you can have some adult time.”
“Oh, but…no. I mean, it’s your family,” Jess stammered.
Docia waved a hand. “There’ll be people who aren’t family, too. A couple of them, anyway. Please. It would really be great if you came. Daisy would be so happy.”
Jess stared at Jack as he played on his blanket, trying to ignore just how much she suddenly wanted a day where she had a family too.
Having a family could be dangerous. The Morelands took advantage of families. And friends. “I don’t know…”
“Come on,” Docia wheedled. “It’ll be fun. We’ll make you an honorary Toleffson.”
Jess felt small fingers close around her hand and looked down to see Daisy’s huge brown eyes staring up at her. “Please, Mrs. Carroll. Jack’ll like it.”
Jess closed her eyes for a moment. Daisy was absolutely right. Jack probably would like it.
“Okay.” She sighed. “We’ll be there.”
Janie Dupree Toleffson glanced up as Docia walked through the front door of Kent’s Hill Country Books. “So? Did you meet her?”
“Yeah. Daisy ran out and dragged me into the house. Ms. Carroll didn’t have much choice about it.” Docia pulled off her jacket and dropped it behind the front counter.
“So?” Janie’s forehead furrowed. “What do you think? What’s she like?”
Docia
shrugged. “Quiet. Good with kids. Sort of reserved, but that might have been because this perfect stranger descended on her out of the blue.”
“I should have gone with you.”
“Right.” Docia stepped out from behind the counter and pushed a cardboard paperback display slightly closer to the wall. “That’s all she’d need—the two Toleffson brides showing up on her doorstep trembling with curiosity. That wouldn’t be too disconcerting.”
“Pete’s still worried about Lars.”
“I know. So’s Cal.”
“It just seems like…” Janie waved her hand. “Shouldn’t he be over this by now? I mean Sherice is history, thank god. So shouldn’t he be able to move on to better things? It’s not like we’ve been trying to fix him up with losers or something.”
“I don’t think he wants to be fixed up.” Docia squinted as she studied the display. “Maybe he wants to find somebody on his own. Besides, Cal thinks he’s still shell-shocked. I mean, he made the mother of all bad decisions when he married Sherice. Cal says it was the only impulsive decision Lars has ever made. You know what he’s like.”
Janie nodded. “A really sweet guy, but a little…conventional. Somebody who weighs his options and goes for safe.”
“Right. Cal says he’s always been the one brother everybody counted on to be sane and responsible and sort of predictable.”
“Lord knows Pete isn’t.”
“Neither is Cal—well, not exactly.” Docia’s grin faded slightly. “So here you have this very responsible guy who makes this one really irresponsible choice for a bride and has to live with the consequences for the rest of his life. It’s going to take him a while to start trusting his own judgment again.”
Janie snorted. “It’s not like he’s going to choose another Sherice. He’s smarter than that.”
“You know that and I know that. But I’m not sure Lars knows that. Or anyway that he believes it.”
“So he’s going to become a monk?” Janie shook her head. “That’s not going to help him or Daisy.”
Docia started to move another display, then stopped. She always rearranged things when she was anxious, and she usually ended up having to put everything back later.
“So getting back to Jessamyn Carroll. Is she pretty?” Janie leaned against the counter. “I’ve never seen her close up.”
“She’s nice looking. Not a knock-out, but after Sherice, knock-outs probably don’t do much for him. Blonde, green eyes, good figure.” She paused, chewing her lip as she studied the display again. “How’s the traffic been this morning?”
“Slow. About usual for this early in the week. How are the dog biscuits coming?” Janie widened her eyes, trying to look innocent.
Docia groaned. “Don’t even mention dog biscuits to me. Cal and I have baked up about twenty dozen of the things over the past two nights. If they don’t sell, we’ll be feeding them to Pep and Olive for the next five years.”
“How do you want to wrap them?”
Docia gave her a slow grin. “That’s your department, toots. Cal and I baked, you and Pete can wrap. I’ve got some red and green cellophane and twist ties. And stickers.”
“Stickers?” Janie rolled her eyes. “I haven’t played with stickers since I was ten.”
“Welcome to middle school. We’ve only got a couple of weeks until the festival.”
Janie grimaced, then stood to check out a tourist in a turquoise sweat suit with appliquéd autumn leaves.
Docia watched the tourist’s considerable rear end as she exited the store. “Jess Carroll also has the cutest baby in the world. Bar none. Jack. Daisy’s absolutely besotted, and she should be.”
She looked down at Janie, almost defiantly.
Janie met her gaze. “It’ll happen, Docia. It’s just biology.”
“Yeah.” Docia blew out a breath. “Unfortunately, I never was much good at science.”
“Honey, don’t worry.” Janie grinned. “You both have the right equipment.”
Docia felt her cheeks heating up. “Janie, for heaven’s sake, we’ve got customers.”
“Yep.” Janie’s grin was unrepentant. “So you think Jess Carroll might be interested in Lars?”
“Who knows?” Docia pushed the display to the left again, only half-thinking about it. “I did ask her to Thanksgiving, though.”
“Did you? Cool! Wonder if Lars will be happy about it.”
Docia shrugged. “My guess is he won’t be unhappy.” She nudged the display again.
Janie stepped around the counter and removed Docia’s hands from the cardboard. “You’ve moved that thing three times now. It looks just fine where it is.”
“Does it?” Docia narrowed her eyes. “Maybe. I need to reorganize the storeroom anyway.”
She turned toward the back of the shop, hearing Janie’s faint sigh as she left.
For the second time in less than a week, Lars managed to have a beer with his brothers at the Dew Drop. Daisy had demanded to be taken to see Docia and Janie, and her aunts had swooped her away to what they called the “children’s book nook”.
Now Lars sat at the same booth where they always sat, taking an occasional sip of his beer and watching the ebb and flow of Konigsburg males, all still trying to adjust to the presence of Ingstrom’s barmaids.
Terrell Biedermeier hunched on his barstool, holding his beer protectively against his chest. Lars had the feeling he was trying very hard not to glance at Ruby’s tattooed shoulder immediately to his left. On Ruby’s other side, Ken Ferguson had a terrific view of her cleavage reflected in the mirror above the bar. Lars figured it was only a matter of time before Ruby flattened him. He just hoped she did it during one of his own infrequent visits to the bar. The entertainment value alone would be worth the price of a couple of beers.
Wonder dropped onto the booth beside Pete, frowning in Cal’s general direction. “So? Any luck with Docia?”
Cal shook his head. “You’re on your own with this one, Wonder. The women all think you got yourself into this hole with that lame-brained proposal, and you need to dig yourself out. Docia said she’s not going to talk to Allie about it until Allie brings it up herself. And if that happens, I wouldn’t count on her being on your side.”
Wonder rested his chin on his hands, the corners of his mouth drooping. “Terrific. All I ask is for somebody to run a little interference, and this is the thanks I get.”
Pete shrugged. “Tell her you’re sorry. Beg her pardon. Give her a ring. Tell her you’re nuts about her. How hard can that be?”
Wonder closed his eyes, sighing. “You have no idea.”
“Nope, I don’t.” Cal waved in Dahlia’s general direction. “Telling the woman you love that you love her seems like a pretty straight-forward deal.”
“Thanks, oh great and powerful wizard,” Wonder snapped. “I should have come to you earlier.”
“Yep, you should.” Cal gestured toward the table as Dahlia approached. “Two Lone Stars, a Spaten, a Dos Equis and a crying towel for the dentist.”
Dahlia narrowed her eyes at him, then turned on her heel.
“The ring idea has some merit, though.” Wonder looked thoughtful. “Maybe I’ll go over to Logsdon’s jewelry store and see what he’s got. Prove my gravitas, as it were.”
Pete blew a raspberry. “Wonder, the ring will only work if it comes accompanied by an apology and a declaration. You cannot buy yourself out of this one.”
“Then again, maybe I’ll buy her a frying pan,” Wonder mused. “Last time we were in Austin, she got all misty-eyed over an All-Clad twelve-inch skillet.”
Cal shook his head. “Man, you are on the verge of becoming pathetic.”
“On the verge?” Pete scoffed.
“Look, you’re going to have to beg her pardon. And I do mean beg.” Cal reached out to take the beers as Dahlia returned to the table, then dug into his pocket. “Anybody got a five?”
Lars dropped a five into his outstretched palm, while Pete and Wonder dropp
ed in singles to make nine.
“What about you?” Wonder turned to Lars. “Want to take your turn giving me a kick in the pants?”
Lars picked up his beer. “Are you actually asking me for romantic advice, Wonder? Seriously?”
There was a moment of silence at the table. Lars watched Wonder’s usually pasty complexion turn faintly pink. He actually looked better embarrassed.
“Holy crap,” Pete muttered.
Lars blinked at him, then realized he was staring at the door. He turned to see a familiar silhouette heading across the Dew Drop in their general direction.
Beside him, Cal tensed, then blew out a slow breath. “Hi, Erik.”
Erik stopped next to the table, removing his Stetson. “Evening.”
Pete slid over, wordlessly. After a moment’s hesitation, Erik sat beside him, then turned toward Lars. “I found your guy. Or I found where he was earlier, anyway.”
Cal frowned. “What guy?”
“Later.” Lars leaned forward. “So what did he say?”
Erik shook his head. “He wasn’t there. He’s registered at the Elite Motel out on 16. Lorne Haggedorn, right?”
“That’s what he told me. Has he gone?”
“Not that I could tell. The motel clerk said he hadn’t checked out, but he didn’t know where he’d gone or when.” Erik shrugged. “I’ll keep an eye out for him now I know where to look.”
“Did the clerk know anything about him?”
Erik gave him a dry smile. “The clerk looked to be about fifteen or so. I had to get him to unplug his iPod so he could talk to me. My guess is he wouldn’t know Haggedorn if he tripped over him.”
“Who’s Haggedorn?” Cal asked again. “What have I been missing?”
Lars sighed. “Long boring story. Thanks, Erik.”
Erik shrugged. “No problem.”
“You want a beer?” Dahlia stood next to the table, a pencil stuck behind one metal-studded ear, her gaze locked on Erik.
Lars glanced at him again. Erik looked like all the rest of them. Tall, broad, dark hair, dark eyes. Only he looked sort of weathered, like he’d been dragged down a long dusty road for a while.