His First and Last (Ardent Springs #1)

by Terri Osburn

  The meeting had been shorter this week, and Jebediah Winkle was nowhere to be seen. Which helped calm Lorelei’s nerves.

  “Does anyone have any new business to discuss?” Buford called from the podium. Silence loomed as everyone present exchanged empty glances. This was it. This was her chance.

  “Okay, then—” Buford continued.

  “Wait,” Lorelei said, bolting to her feet. Her stomach dropped to her knees as all eyes turned her way.

  “Yes?” the former mayor said, surprise and suspicion clear on his face. “Did you have something to say?”

  Lorelei nodded, her vocal cords temporarily out to lunch.

  The faces around her watched with varying degrees of interest. Granny looked worried, while Spencer gave her a nod of approval.

  “I have a suggestion for a fund-raiser,” she said, her voice timid.

  “You’ll have to speak up,” Stallings bellowed.

  “Sorry,” she said, speaking louder. “I said I have a suggestion for a fund-raiser. I think we should have a street festival around the theater. This fall. The parking lot is big enough to hold a stage and still have room for a good-sized audience. We could maybe bring someone in from Nashville who would draw a crowd.”

  The mumbling started immediately, but no one shot the idea down. Or laughed her back into her seat.

  “Local restaurants could set up booths. Actually,” she said, the idea growing as she pitched it, “any business willing to donate their time would be welcome. Churches. Window salesmen. Anyone who could benefit from interacting with the public.” The mumbling turned to nods of agreement, boosting her confidence. “We’d charge a small entry fee, run it over the course of a weekend, and so long as the majority of supplies are donated, make a hefty profit that would go toward the restoration.”

  “A festival?” Buford asked. “Like the Main Street Festival?”

  “Sort of.” Lorelei walked from her seat in the back corner toward the front of the room. “Only this would be called the Restore the Ruby Festival, and everyone would know that it’s a fund-raiser. We could set up games, have a kid section, and with enough food and entertainment, I think we could draw people from neighboring counties.” She turned toward her ex. “Or even Nashville. Show them what our small town has to offer.”

  Spencer’s face beamed with pride. Lorelei ignored the nausea churning in her midsection, enjoying the feeling that she’d done something right for a change.

  While she was busy giving herself a mental high five, the rest of the room finished ruminating.

  “That sounds like a lot of work,” Harvey Brubaker said. It didn’t take a genius to know that a grocery store would not be the kind of business to partake in what Lorelei was proposing. And if there was live entertainment in the Ruby parking lot, his bar and any band he’d hire would take a hit.

  Nitzi Merchant chimed in. “Anything we do is going to take work, Harvey. I like this idea.” The vote of confidence was accompanied by a wink in Lorelei’s direction.

  “Harvey is right,” Buford interrupted. “Ms. Pratchett, are you willing to chair this endeavor, or were you only throwing out the suggestion and expecting others to handle the heavy lifting?”

  Lorelei considered telling Stallings where he could shove his heavy lifting, but she’d come too far to let her inner child ruin this. “It’s my idea. I’m fine heading up the planning.” What the hell did she know about planning a street festival? Absolutely nothing, that’s what. But until Monday, she’d never run an accounting software system either. She’d figured that out, and she could figure this out, too.

  “I make a motion that Lorelei Pratchett create a full presentation for the Restore the Ruby Festival and present it to the committee,” Spencer said. The motion was seconded and passed before Lorelei knew what hit her.

  “Ms. Pratchett, we’ll expect the full presentation in two weeks.” Turning to Nitzi, Buford added, “Make sure that’s on the agenda.”

  “Got it,” Nitzi said, taking notes with an extra flourish.

  “Two weeks?” Lorelei asked.

  “That’s right,” Buford nodded. “Main Street Festival is next weekend, so we’ll be taking next Friday night off.”

  “Oh,” she said, still stunned from this new development. “Right.”

  Minutes later, the meeting was adjourned and Lorelei was surrounded by members offering their own suggestions. She hadn’t expected so much enthusiasm.

  “Nice work, Ms. Pratchett,” Spencer whispered in her ear as he passed by behind her. She turned to say thanks, but Nitzi surprised Lorelei by pulling her into a bear hug.

  “Brilliant, my dear.” The older woman released her as quickly as she’d attacked. “I’ve been saying for months that we need to think bigger, and now here you are with this wonderful idea. Simply brilliant.”

  Lorelei appreciated the vote of confidence, especially from someone who hadn’t been her biggest fan before this meeting, but the people circling her were tossing around big names in the world of country music. Some were tittering that this could be the event that would hit their goal and then some. Expectations were growing, and Lorelei had only made the suggestion minutes ago. Now she had to deliver, but the bar was being raised by the second.

  Way to go, big mouth, her inner demons chided. The perfect opportunity to fail once again. Good luck not screwing this up.

  Granny chose that moment to pull Lorelei from the crowd. With misty eyes she said, “I’m so proud of you, honey. I knew this would be good for you, and you’re good for it. You’re going to make a difference.”

  “Thanks,” Lorelei said, but her doubts were growing stronger. A good difference or a bad difference? What had she done? And how was she going to get out of it?

  Spencer couldn’t have been more proud of Lorelei in that moment. He watched her receive a pat on the back from one member after another, each filled with more enthusiasm than he’d seen in months. When Buford had first called for new business and Lorelei held her tongue, he’d worried she’d chickened out. But even knowing she might have been crucified for speaking up, she did it. And she did it with style, blooming right before his eyes. There was a hint of the old Lorelei in there. The girl who knew her own mind and had a wicked imagination was finally using that spark of creativity to do something good.

  And once the kudos had run out and she was walking his way, he saw fear in her eyes.

  Not good.

  “I need to get out of here,” she said as soon as he was close enough to hear her.

  “We need to tell Rosie that we’re leaving.”

  “She’ll figure it out.” Lorelei charged out of the room and through the restaurant, bursting through the front door like a woman running for her life. Since he refused to run, Spencer lost sight of her until she came into view pacing next to his truck. He wasn’t sure, but it sounded as if she were mumbling a hefty dose of profanity.

  “You want to tell me what’s going on?” he asked.

  Lorelei jerked on the door handle that was still locked. “Let me in.”

  “Not yet,” he said, leaning on the front grille. “You may have saved this entire project. So what’s with the panic attack?”

  “I’m not having a panic attack,” she said, continuing to pace and shaking her hands as if they’d fallen asleep. “And I didn’t save anything. I made a suggestion, that’s all.”

  “It’s a good suggestion.”

  “But I didn’t think they’d make me run it,” she admitted. Of course the idea of taking responsibility for something would scare the hell out of her. She’d come back to town after years of being responsible for little more than delivering plates and finding her next meal. Now she was running a budding baking business, helping manage a small construction office, and looking at coordinating a major community effort for the town that already had a grudge against her.

  For once, he couldn’t blame her for being freaked out.

  “Come here,” he said, taking her by the hand and dragging
her to the back of the truck.

  “What are you going to do, beat some sense into me?”

  Spencer stopped in his tracks. “Do you believe I’d ever lay a hand on you?”

  “Sorry.” She shrugged. “Stupid question.”

  He dropped the tailgate and turned her way. “Have a seat.”

  Lorelei did as ordered and crossed her arms with a huff.

  “You’re not going to have to run this all by yourself,” he said.

  “That’s true.” She picked at her cuticles. “Winkle will probably be here next time. He’ll shoot it down in flames, and then I’ll have nothing to worry about.”

  “Winkle doesn’t have that kind of power.” At least not on this committee, Spencer thought.

  “Someone should tell him that. I don’t think he knows.” Lorelei sat up a little straighter, kicking her feet forward and back. “This is Mike’s fault.”

  “How’s that?” Spencer asked.

  “He told me if I didn’t like the ideas everyone else had, I should come up with a better one.”

  Spencer smiled. Good old Mike. “And you did.”

  Lorelei snorted. “What I did was set myself up for a crash of epic proportions.”

  With a roll of his eyes, he said, “That’s not melodramatic at all.”

  “What can I say?” she asked. “Overacting is what I do.”

  When she shot him a half smile, he realized she’d made a joke. “Cute. Now tell me what’s really going on here.”

  Leaning back on her hands, Lorelei raised her face toward the sky, closed her eyes, and breathed deep. “I got so carried away thinking about how much money we could raise with this festival that I didn’t think about me being responsible for any of it.”

  “And being responsible for it would be a bad thing?”

  She leaned close enough to bump shoulders. “That’s the million-dollar question.”

  He bumped back. “I think it would be a good thing.”

  “That’s because you’re completely blind to my faults.”

  “Now you’ve gone from dramatic to delusional.” Spencer threw an arm around Lorelei’s shoulders. “If anyone is aware of your faults, it’s me. The difference is, you hate yourself for them, and I choose to like you in spite of them.”

  Slipping her hand into the one dangling over her left shoulder, Lorelei whispered, “I can’t decide if that makes you a sap or an idiot.”

  “I’m a man, Lorelei,” he said, staring into moonlit blue eyes. “A man who likes what he sees, faults and all.”

  She didn’t have a comeback for that one, and he was fighting the temptation to lay her down in the truck bed and take advantage of her lowered defenses. But since he didn’t feel like going another four days getting the silent treatment, Spencer followed a different instinct.

  “You can do this,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I have complete faith in you.”

  “Now who’s being delusional?”

  Ignoring her question, he hopped off the tailgate. “I know what we’ll do.”

  “What?” Lorelei asked.

  Spencer held out a hand. “How long has it been since you went dancing, Ms. Pratchett?”

  After a brief hesitation, she shook her head. “Oh, no.”

  “Oh, yes.” He pulled her off the truck to stand pressed against him on the gravel. “I’m taking you two-stepping, woman. This night calls for a celebration.”

  Lorelei had thought walking into that first restoration meeting had been hard. Ha! That was nothing compared to walking into Brubaker’s Bar. At least at the meetings, people were on their best behavior. Social cuts were subtle, and no one made a scene. Put her in an Ardent Springs crowd loaded up on beer and bravado and all bets were off.

  Which was why she clung to Spencer’s arm like a money-strapped bride holding on to the last Vera Wang at a fire sale.

  Spencer stopped not far inside the front door and glanced around as if looking for someone he knew. The place wasn’t as packed as Lorelei had expected, but then it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet. The real party wouldn’t start until closer to ten, she assumed.

  “Over there,” he said, yelling over the volume of the band. “In the corner.”

  Lorelei craned her neck in the direction Spencer indicated, but the only thing she saw in the corner was the back of a man with broad shoulders wearing a sleeveless black-and-green flannel and a ball cap turned backward on his head. Before she could ask who it was, Spencer was cutting a path around the dance floor, pulling her along behind him.

  “Heya, Coop,” he said in greeting, drawing the attention of the flannel wearer. The first thing Lorelei spotted was a substantial bicep with a tattoo that looked like . . . Were those tire tracks?

  “Boyd!” the man exclaimed, doing the guy-hand-grab-and-pat-on-the-back thing. Turning in her direction, he said, “Hey there, Lorelei. You’re looking as good as ever.”

  This person knew her? What had Spencer called him? Coop? The name sounded familiar, but it took several seconds before the revelation came. “Cooper Ridgeway?”

  The mechanic had at least two inches on Spencer, and his arms looked as if he’d spent the last twelve years bench-pressing cars instead of fixing them. The Cooper she remembered was a scrawny kid with greasy hair and the perpetual black under his fingernails. His hands still showed signs of years working with his hands in grease, but the hair looked clean, if shaggy, with brown curls swirling around the brim of his hat. Green eyes twinkled as he flashed her a genuine smile, revealing the dimple in his chin.

  “The one and only,” he said, giving her a half hug and dropping a kiss on her cheek. “How you doing, lady?”

  Lorelei was so stunned by the show of affection, she struggled to produce verbal communication. “Good,” she managed. “I’m good.”

  “Spencer says you’re working out at Lowry Construction. You liking it?” Spencer was deep in conversation with a brunette on the other side of the tiny cocktail table, making Lorelei want to kick him. Even if they weren’t there as a couple, he didn’t have to pick up another woman while Lorelei fended off the boy-mechanic-turned-hunk.

  In response to his question, she nodded, keeping a smile pasted on her face. Though Cooper had been part of their high school group, he’d been more Spencer’s friend than hers. She wasn’t even sure they’d ever held a conversation. But here he was, chatting as if they were old buddies catching up. So this was the difference more than a decade could make. Everyone acting like grownups. Lorelei couldn’t decide how she felt about that. She sure didn’t feel like a grownup.

  “You want a beer?” Cooper asked.

  “I’ve got it,” Spencer said, patting his friend on the arm. “Put the order in just now.” So maybe he hadn’t been trying to pick up another woman. He’d still left her to fend off Cooper. “Time to give Lorelei here a dance floor refresher course.”

  Before she could argue, Lorelei was facing backward on the edge of the dance floor. Spencer turned his ball cap around, presumably so the brim wouldn’t poke her in the forehead every time she looked down at her feet. The change made him look younger. And hotter. Damn him.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  “I don’t remember how to do this, Spencer.”

  “Sure you do. It’s like riding a bike.” He took her right hand in his and tossed her left onto his right shoulder. “Step back with your right and follow my lead.”

  With that instruction, he moved them onto the floor, and by some miracle, Lorelei’s feet did exactly what they were supposed to do. The shuffle step that started with the right foot, then a step with the left. Shuffle step, then left. They did two turns around the sawdust-covered floor with her body pressed tight against Spencer’s frame. She knew dancing so close made it easier for her to follow, but it was also making it difficult for her to think. Good thing her feet were operating independently of her brain.

  Just when she was feeling lulled into a daze, he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “You ready for a spin?�
�

  “I’m barely staying upright,” she answered, panic clear in her voice.

  Spencer wasn’t fazed. “You trust me?”

  The answer yes came too quickly to mind. “Is that a trick question?”

  Instead of responding, he pushed gently on her left hip while applying pressure with his left hand. Lorelei did a full turn, landing back in Spencer’s arms and on the correct step. The move happened so fast, she wondered if maybe she’d imagined it.

  “You can fight it all you want,” he said, his lips touching her left earlobe, which sent a shiver down to her toes. “But your body still follows my lead.”

  Leaning back to look him in the eye, she said, “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, winking as he twirled her into another spin.

  Chapter 15

  Lorelei had agreed to take a turn around the floor with Cooper, who wasn’t nearly the skilled dancer Spencer was. The man could rebuild a ’55 Chevy with his eyes closed, but he had the rhythm of a three-legged water buffalo. Spencer watched them fade into the crowd around the far corner, then emerge again with Lorelei laughing at something Cooper had said. Or she was laughing at him. Either was possible.

  Spencer liked to watch her like this. He’d never been a jealous man, which turned out to be a fatal flaw when it came to his marriage, but with Lorelei he never doubted. She wasn’t a saint, by any means, but even in grade school she’d had a strong code of ethics that she stuck to no matter what. Part of that code had been loyalty and never taking what belonged to someone else.

  He remembered back to a time during sophomore year when one of their friends had thought it would be funny to snag some candy bars from Puckett’s Pharmacy. Old Puckett wouldn’t have missed a few bits of chocolate, but Lorelei wouldn’t do it. And it wasn’t because she worried about eternal damnation of her soul or going to jail. She simply believed in wrong and right, and you didn’t take something you didn’t earn or pay for.

  The same went for people. When they’d been together, she’d been loyal to a fault. Lorelei took commitment seriously, and in that way she’d spoiled him. Made him believe everyone lived life by the same standards. Learning he was wrong, and in such a humiliating fashion, had been a dark day in his history. Spencer didn’t trust easily anymore, but he’d trust Lorelei to the ends of the earth.