“And?”
“And? He completed the inside finishing work with wooden nails, man.”
“And?”
“And it’s an unbelievable place. It’s got character and warmth and…the lady even caned the seats of the rocking chairs sitting on the front porch.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Ben said pleasantly, then he growled, “Maybe that’s why she raised the price fifty thousand dollars—she’s throwing in the chairs!”
“As a matter of fact, Mrs. Falkner told me she was moving to a much smaller place, so maybe she will sell some of her furniture. There was a man’s mahogany wardrobe in the second spare bedroom that I’d love to—”
“Ian,” Ben broke in. “What’s with you? I’m talking business, you’re talking Walton’s Mountain.”
Dropping into his father’s chair in the library, Ian leaned his head back and laughed. “Sorry, pal. I guess being home with my folks is making me sentimental.”
“Yeah, well, don’t start blubbering on me. Tell Mr. and Mrs. B. hello for me, would you?”
“Sure, Ben.” Ian leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “And keep me posted on the Falkner house, would you?”
“Good night, John-Boy.”
Smiling, Ian hung up the phone, then steepled his hands together over his stomach.
“Was that Meredith?” Fresh from a game of golf, his mom walked in and drew a glass of water from the wet bar.
“Uh, no, that was Ben. He said to say hello.”
She drank, nodding.
“Mom.” Ian stood and turned his back to her, in case his expression gave away too much.
“Who is she, Ian?”
He faced her, frowning sourly. “How do you do that?”
“You mean, how do I know you’ve met someone?” She held up her fingers and bent them back dramatically as she spoke. “First, you call and tell me you’re taking a vacation. Then you tell me it’s a three-week vacation. Then you tell me you’re coming to see me and your father. Then you come alone.” She stopped, sat down in a nearby chair, and smiled. “Is that enough or should I mention how moony you’ve been?”
He scoffed. “Moony?”
“So, what’s her name, and does Meredith know?”
After a deep breath, he surrendered. “Piper Shepherd and yes. Meredith proposed to me a couple of weeks ago. I declined when I came back from a business trip to Mississippi.”
She crossed her arms. “I can’t blame Meredith, she’s waited longer than I would have.”
He smirked. “I know, I shouldn’t have let it drift on for so long.”
“So you’ve drifted on to someone else, someone in Mississippi?”
Feeling like a schoolboy, he nodded. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know how she feels about me.”
“Did you ask her?”
He pursed his lips. “No.”
She groaned and sat up in her chair. “What is it with your generation? You think everyone around you is psychic or something.” Rising to her feet, she smiled and gentled her voice. “Call her, son. Why should you go another day not knowing?” She kissed him on the cheek and walked out, gesturing pointedly to the phone as she left.
Ian lifted the handset and stared until it blurred into two. Why, indeed? How could he explain that while their night together had been an emotional upheaval for him, the incident had been but a business ploy for Piper? And that he was afraid the feelings he had for Piper were out of some perverse relief that their interlude had kept him from making a mistake by marrying Meredith.
He set down the phone. No, he would not call her and leave himself hanging in the wind until he had things straight in his head. He needed some distance from the whole Meredith thing, and the whole Piper thing. After his vacation, he might give her a call. Maybe. Perhaps.
“WHAT’S YOUR SCHEDULE like for next weekend?” Justine asked breathlessly over the telephone.
“Hello to you, too,” Piper said, wrestling with a roll of clear packing tape. So far, more of it had landed on her legs and feet than on the box she was trying to wrap.
“I’m serious—are you free next Saturday?”
“Well, I’ll have to cancel my weekend getaway with the two Chippendale dancers, but for you—hey, I’d do it. What’s up?”
“I’m pregnant.”
Piper dropped the tape and watched it roll away, knowing she’d probably never find the end again. “Justine, you’re joking, right?”
“Nope. I’m going to be a mommy!” She screamed with happiness. “I’m four months.”
“That’s unbelievable! Four months?” Piper calculated ahead to the wedding date two months away. “That dress will be a little tight, won’t it, Jus?”
“That’s why we’re getting married on Saturday!” she sang. “At three o’clock!”
Piper blinked. “You’re going to have a sit-down dinner for four hundred people this Saturday?”
“No, silly, we’re having to scale back a little—we’re on a budget now, you know. Just a small ceremony, family and close friends. You’ll still be my maid of honor, won’t you?”
“Of course I will! But the dresses couldn’t possibly be ready, could they?” She crossed her fingers and looked heavenward.
“Oh, don’t worry, they’ll be finished. Mother said we might have to tape the hems, but they’ll be ready.”
Piper wrinkled her nose. “Hair bows, too?”
“Hair bows, too…Hey, you had to hang up when I called for your measurements before you could tell me how your manhunt is going.” She giggled, giddy from hormones, Piper guessed.
“Manhunt?” she parroted, then sighed. “I’m going to see if Rich wants to come to the wedding with me.”
“No luck, huh? And Rich is still teetering on the fence?”
Piper frowned. “Cut him some slack, Justine. Rich is a great guy. Are you getting married in the same church?”
“Yep.”
“What time should I be there?”
“The ceremony starts at three o’clock, but the pictures are at two, so come early and we’ll get dressed together.”
“I’ll be there,” she promised. “Congratulations!”
She hung up the phone, smiling, happier than she’d been in the longest time. Even when she looked at the package containing the ring she was mailing back to Ian, the hurt had dulled to a bittersweet ache. She’d be all right in a few months, she decided. And maybe she’d even embark on another manhunt—except this time with a better laid plan.
She found a box of plain stationery to write him a note. “Dear Ian,” she read as she wrote. No. “Dear Mr. Bentley.” Much better. “I found the ring you were looking for in my laundry—” She bit her bottom lip. “I found the ring you were looking for, period. Have a nice day.” She made a face. “Have a nice married life.” She drew a line through it. “Say hello to your cherry.” She scratched out that phrase, too, but it made her laugh. “I love you.” This she drew a line through, and didn’t laugh. “Sincerely, Piper Shepherd.”
She recopied the keeper phrases in neat script, and folded the paper. Resisting the ridiculous urge to kiss it, she went in search of more tape. After she inserted the note, she wrapped up the package so that it was completely watertight, just in case the delivery truck rode into a canal or something. She drove past the post office, telling herself that the courier in Tyson would be faster, while admitting to herself she was in no hurry—as soon as the package left her possession, all direct ties to Ian would be lost.
Feeling like a criminal, she sat in her van for forty minutes, until just before the place closed. Then she filled out a neat mailing label from his business card and watched as the man tossed the ring on a heap of other packages that were being loaded. Soon it disappeared from sight, and Piper drove home, hitting downtown Mudville during prime cruising hour.
She saw Gary Purdue and his girlfriend had gotten back together. Lenny and Janet pulled up beside her in h
is belch-mobile, and to her amazement they seemed to be having a good time. “There’s someone for everyone,” she muttered, shaking her head, then frowning in the side mirror. “Except me.”
When she arrived home with a chicken sandwich, she decided it was almost too hot to eat. She turned up the fan on the counter, its intensity kicking up bits of tape and paper from her packing job. She dragged a small can behind her as she collected the garbage. When her fingers closed around a piece of folded stationery, she frowned, then remembered her scratch note. Laughing at her own antics on paper, she unfolded the note…then nearly had a stroke.
In her spasmodic hands, she held the nice note, the pretty note…the edited note. And her silly, catty and—she gulped—honest note was somewhere in the mail, hurtling toward his office. She clawed her way to the phone and called the package company, letting it ring one hundred and two times before giving up. Then, admitting defeat, she turned off all the lights, curled into a ball on her bed and cried herself to sleep.
AMUSED, Ian tried his best not to laugh. “She raised it by another twenty-five thousand?”
“Yes, can you believe it? I was being a nice guy and met her halfway on her last price hike, and then she jacks the price up even further! Are you sure this woman is stable, Ian?”
He wet his lips, rarely having seen Ben bested. “She seemed stable to me.”
“Well, I think she’s a lunatic!” he thundered. “I’m going to meet her halfway on this offer and she’s not getting a penny more!” He slammed down the phone.
Ian sat and listened to the ringer fade. “And that’ll show her, Ben,” he murmured.
Then he dialed his voice mail and jotted down a few names and numbers. He hadn’t stopped hoping that Piper had found the silly ring and would call him. Meredith hadn’t insured the ring yet, so he simply had the purchase price transferred from her charge card to his. He hadn’t offered an explanation for the ring’s disappearance, and she hadn’t asked for one.
He listened to the last message, but could barely concentrate on the words of a West Coast associate. Saving it for later, Ian hung up, realizing he had undergone a subtle change in the last few days. Thoughts of Piper still plagued him every waking minute, but now he realized he wasn’t as anxious for those thoughts to be gone. When had he stopped fighting the fact that he loved her? Before he could change his mind, Ian dialed directory assistance.
“What city?”
“Mudville, Mississippi.”
“What listing?”
“Falkner, Mrs. Ellen Falkner.”
“That phone has been forwarded to a new number. I can connect you.”
The phone rang three times before she answered. “Hello?”
“Mrs. Falkner, you might not remember me. My name is Ian Bentley.”
“I certainly do remember you. How can I help you, Mr. Bentley?”
“I’ll be coming to Mudville next week and I was hoping I could stop by and talk to you about the house.”
“Certainly. Are you coming back for business or pleasure?”
He smiled wryly. “Pleasure, I hope, although I won’t know until I get there.”
“Call anytime—I’ll meet you at the house.”
“Oh, and Mrs. Falkner, I know this is asking a lot, but could you hold off on accepting any offers on the house?”
“But your associate is the only interested buyer, Mr. Bentley.”
“I know,” he admitted sheepishly. “Can you stall him?”
“Mr. Bentley.” Her voice was rich with suggestion. “Are you suggesting that I jerk Mr. Warner around?”
He laughed. “Don’t worry—Ben can handle it.”
“Tell me, are you yourself interested in purchasing the house?”
“Maybe.”
“For commercial purposes?”
“No,” he said firmly. “I can’t give you any guarantees about buying it, because it depends on…someone else.” He swallowed. “But if I buy your house, Mrs. Falkner, I plan to live there.”
“Such a big house for one person, Mr. Bentley—and I should know.”
“That’s the someone I was talking about, Mrs. Falkner. If she says yes, then I’ll be making an offer on your home.”
“Oh, that sounds wonderful,” she declared. “There haven’t been any children in the house for a long, long time. Mr. Bentley, if your young lady says yes, will you bring her by so I can meet her?”
“Sure thing, Mrs. Falkner. I’ll call you. Goodbye.”
He put the phone down and stood up, unsure of where to start. “Mom,” he called as she walked by the library, “I have to leave tomorrow morning.”
She frowned. “Well, you don’t have to look so happy about it.”
“I’m going to Mississippi.”
Her eyes lit up. “Did you call your Ms. Shepherd?”
“No, I have to go back to Chicago first to tie up some loose ends at the office, but after that, I’m going to see her.”
Her smiled wavered. “You’re just going to drop in?”
“You don’t think that’s a good idea?”
“Well…”
“You’re right,” he said with a sigh. Ian glanced at his watch. “Friday afternoon at four o’clock—she’s probably still at the office.” Without a word, his mother slipped from the room and closed the French doors, giving him a wink through the glass before she turned and walked away.
Ian dialed directory assistance again, then wrote down the number for Blythe Industries. After a deep breath, he punched in the number, identified himself and asked for Piper, his heart beating as loudly and crazily as a child’s drum.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Bentley, but Ms. Shepherd is out today,” the receptionist said. “Oh, hold on, please. Mr. Blythe was walking by and he’d like a word with you.”
“Bentley?” Edmund’s gravelly voice came over the line. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Uh, no, Edmund.” Ian suppressed his disappointment. “I…I wanted a word with Ms. Shepherd, that’s all.”
“They’ll be back in the office early next week,” Edmund said cheerfully.
Frowning, Ian asked, “They?”
“Rich and Piper—wedding in Tupelo, tomorrow. They have friends who live there so they asked for a few extra days off.”
His heart stopped. “Wedding?” His throat convulsed as he remembered her words. My ideal wedding would be to leave town quietly then come back married. “Do you know where or what time?” he gasped.
“They didn’t talk to me about it,” Edmund said, then laughed. “Why?”
Ian grasped for an explanation. “I, uh, I have business there and I thought I might try to catch up with her, er, them.” Knowing he sounded insane, he squeezed the bridge of his nose between forefinger and thumb.
Mr. Blythe’s tone sounded rich with innuendo. “I thought you and Piper hit it off, Bentley. So I can’t blame you for not wanting to wait until she gets back. Hang on.”
Ian heard the man asking the receptionist if she had details of the wedding. His mind raced—he’d lost her. Tomorrow she was marrying another man.
“You’re in luck,” Edmund boomed. “Sheila doesn’t know where they’re staying, but the wedding is at the Saint Stephen’s Catholic Church on Pascoe Road at three o’clock.”
“Thanks, Edmund.” His head pounded as he hung up the phone. He scrubbed both hands over his face and sighed. One thing was certain—tying up loose ends at the office would have to wait. The start-up venture of his life waited in Tupelo, Mississippi.
CHAPTER TWELVE
And finally, remember it’s bad luck to cry on your wedding day.
“MY GOODNESS, Piper, why the devil are you crying? I’m the one with the hormones—I should be upset that the record for daily rainfall was set on my wedding day.” Dressed in full bridal regalia, Justine leaned forward and offered Piper a tissue. “Come on, out with it.”
Piper blew her nose, then sniffed mightily. “You don’t want to hear about it.”
Justine checked her watch. “We have ten minutes before the music starts, and we’re both dressed. So talk.”
She welled up again, and Justine clucked.
“Don’t cry—talk. You’re scaring me.”
“It’s just a m-man.”
“Surprise, surprise.”
“You knew?”
“Piper, give me some credit, okay? Is he a local guy?”
She sniffed. “No. He’s from Chicago and he does business with the company I work for.”
“What’s his name?”
Piper hiccuped. “Ian Bentley. And he’s married.”
Justine’s eyes bugged. “Married? Geez, Piper, I thought you knew better.”
She shook her head, and watched in the mirror as the big salmon-colored satin bow in her hair flapped like a butterfly. “No, he wasn’t married when I—when we—oh, God, I feel like such a fool.”
“Well, if he wasn’t married—”
“He got married as soon as he went back to Chicago.” Her chin quivered.
“Piper,” her friend said, touching her hand. “If the man met you, then married someone else, he’s the fool.”
“Wait until you’ve heard the rest of the story.”
“What? Tell me!”
“He sort of…lost the engagement ring his fiancée had given him…in my bed.”
Justine pursed her pink lips and bobbed her head. “Okay—there’s a movie.”
“Well, first I didn’t believe that he’d actually lost the ring, but then I found it about a week later, and by that time he’d already gone on his honeymoon.”
“So you hocked it, I hope.”
She shook her head. “The thing was worth a freaking fortune—I was afraid I’d get hard labor.”
“So what did you do?”
“I mailed it back to him.”
“You mailed back a ring that was worth too much money to be pawned?”
Piper frowned. “I called a jeweler and he said it was the safest way.”
“Okay, okay, you mailed the ring, end of story.”
“No. Because when I wrapped up the ring, I wanted to put a note inside.”
Justine dabbed at Piper’s eye makeup. “Something nasty, I hope.”
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