With This Ring

by Lee McKenzie

  Finally she spotted Allison and her husband sitting at a table with a group of old friends. She waved and Allison waved back. As she threaded her way through the crowd, she smiled and politely acknowledged people as she went, but didn’t let herself get caught up in any of the conversations.

  “I hope you’re all having a wonderful time,” she said to everyone before she leaned over and whispered to Allison. “Have you seen Brent?”

  “I saw him over there,” she whispered back, pointing in the direction of the catering tent. “He was sitting with Nick and Maggie and a few others.”

  “Thanks.” She stood up and smiled at everyone again, then continued to zigzag her way between the crowded tables.

  She saw Nick first. He was sitting next to Maggie, with his arm around her shoulder, and he did not look happy. And then she saw Brent and knew why.

  He was sitting with his back to her and Candice Bentley-Ferguson was on his lap. Her arms were loosely wrapped around his neck and his Santa hat was on her head, and Leslie wanted to throttle her.

  You’re more than welcome to have Gerald but this man is mine, she thought as she stormed across the remaining distance to their table.

  “Well, isn’t this cozy.” She could hardly breathe, she was so angry. To add insult to what was already an enormous injury, Brent didn’t even look guilty.

  Neither did Candice, but then she probably didn’t know the meaning of the word.

  “I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Leslie said to Brent.

  Before he could reply, Candice chimed in. “I’ve just been telling Santa what a very, very, verrry good girl I’ve been.” She stumbled over a few words and her speech was slurred. “And he was just about to tell me what he’s going to bring me for Christmas. Isn’t that right, Santa?” She looked at Brent and angled her head back, trying to get her eyes to focus.

  Good luck.

  Brent looked far more amused than the situation merited.

  “Maybe another bottle of champagne?” Leslie suggested.

  “Oooh,” Candice said. “There’s more champagne?”

  “No, there isn’t. The bar is still open, though.”

  She giggled. “Maybe Santa would like to go with me.”

  Brent peeled the woman off his neck and helped her stand up and regain her balance. “Thanks,” he said. “But maybe some other time.”

  Leslie gave him an evil look.

  “Okey-dokey,” Candice said and walked away, staggering slightly but at least managing to keep herself upright.

  Brent folded a check in half and slipped it into his pocket. “You said you were looking for me?”

  Leslie stared at him. She was furious with him for thinking he could just brush this aside, and furious with herself for being in the position of not being able to confront him about this.

  “I was. Sorry for interrupting, but Hannah is getting tired and needs a ride home. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind.”

  “Not a bit. Where is she?”

  “She’s sitting with your mother at one of the tables over by the pool house.”

  “I guess I’ll see you.”

  He walked away, leaving her to stand and seethe. Bad enough that he was so cool and detached, but to be completely unapologetic for letting Candice hustle him? Unforgivable.

  “Would you like to sit with us for a while?” Maggie asked.

  Leslie swung around and looked at her and Nick. She’d forgotten she had an audience. “I’d love to, but there are still a few things left to do.”

  Nick was looking more relaxed, likely due to the departure of the husband-snatcher.

  Maggie got up and walked around the table. Leslie was always impressed by her quirky fashion sense, and tonight’s outfit was no exception. She was wearing a sleeveless emerald-green tank top over a long, dark purple silk skirt, and her dark red hair had been swept up and loosely woven with purple ribbons.

  “You look really lovely tonight,” Leslie said.

  “Thanks. These were my aunt’s pearls. I’ve been admiring your wrist corsage. You don’t often see pink orchids.”

  “It’s my favorite color,” she said. “My…a friend gave it to me. He knows I love pink.”

  “He told me.”

  Leslie was stunned. Had Brent talked to Nick and Maggie about her? About them?

  “It’s okay,” she said. “Nick doesn’t know, and Brent didn’t have to tell me. I figured it out. I have a kind of sixth sense about these things.”

  Leslie hugged her. “Thank you. For everything. I have an idea that you and I are going to be good friends.” Maybe even sisters.

  “Me, too,” Maggie said. “Now you’d better go do whatever it is you have to do.” She didn’t say, “Follow your heart.” She didn’t have to.

  Leslie took the shortest route possible to the table where Hannah had been sitting, but she was too late. Hannah was gone and so was Brent.

  Colleen looked at her watch and stood up. “Looks as though it’s speech time.”

  “You’re right. First we should talk to the accountant to see if we can get a final tally, or at least an approximate one.”

  When they announced the amount of money that had been raised, the crowd applauded wildly. When Sam Beagley, the senior partner of the law firm and Leslie’s father’s longtime friend, announced that a new building for the shelter had been donated, Colleen actually broke down and cried. Through it all, Leslie stood onstage, wearing her best smile and graciously accepting everyone’s thanks and applause. But a lot of the evening’s luster had faded and she just wanted it all to be over so she could talk to Brent when he came back.

  Chapter Fifteen

  But Brent didn’t come back and after a sleepless night, Leslie slipped out of bed at dawn and pulled on her dressing gown. The fund-raising event had surpassed even her most optimistic expectations, and she had found a new ally in Colleen Borden. Even her mother had been impressed.

  Brent was the only person who didn’t seem to care, and he was the one who mattered most. After proposing to her yesterday afternoon, he had been cool and withdrawn. For most of the evening he had ignored her. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he had let Candice Bentley-Ferguson—the groom-stealer, of all people—flirt with him. Then he had jumped at the chance to drive Hannah home, and he hadn’t bothered to return.

  She didn’t know what any of that meant. She didn’t even know if they were still sort of engaged. She picked up the ring from where it lay next to the little pink-ribboned teddy bear and the glass slipper he’d given her and slipped it on her hand.

  She looked in the mirror and held up her hand so she could admire her ring. It was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever given her. She loved it.

  She loved him, and she needed to tell him that. She should have told him yesterday, and she didn’t exactly know why she hadn’t.

  She opened her bedroom door. The house was quiet, which meant Hannah was still sleeping. Leslie made her way to the kitchen to make coffee, sliding the pocket door closed behind her so the noise wouldn’t disturb Hannah.

  She was filling the coffeepot with water when the ring slipped off her hand.

  “No!” The pot shattered in the sink. She cranked off the tap and scanned the wreckage for her ring. “Please, please, please. You have to be here.”

  Frantically she slid the shards of glass around, looking for the ring, but there was no sign of it.

  Blood dripped onto the broken glass. She held up her hand and tried to examine the cut on her finger but there was too much blood. Without thinking, she turned on the tap and held her finger under cold water.

  “You idiot! Don’t run water!” She quickly turned off the tap and stared into the sink. All the water from the coffeepot had already gone down the drain. What if it had flushed the ring out of the trap?

  “Dear God, this cannot be happening.”

  The door slid open. “What on earth is going on in here?” Hannah asked, concern written all over her face.

 
; “I lost the ring Brent gave me,” Leslie choked out.

  A smile spread across Hannah’s face. “He gave you a ring?” she asked. “Where did you lose it?”

  “It’s down there.” She pointed at the drain.

  Hannah’s eyes widened at the sight of the blood and broken glass. “Dear child, you’re bleeding!” She quickly grabbed a towel and handed it to Leslie.

  She used the towel to wipe her eyes, then wrapped it around her hand. “I didn’t wear it last night because it’s a little too big. I think he was disappointed, but not as disappointed as he’ll be when I tell him I lost it.”

  “I’ve never seen a man more smitten with a woman than he is with you. As long as he knows you’re in love with him, he won’t let this bother him.”

  “That’s kind of the problem. He doesn’t know.”

  “You didn’t tell him?”

  “Not yet.”

  Hannah chuckled. “You never were one to rush into things.”

  No kidding. “What am I going to do?”

  “You’re going to get that ring out of the drain, and then you’re going to call up that boy and tell him what he’s waiting to hear.”

  “You make it so sound easy.”

  “And you’re making it more difficult that it has to be.”

  Hannah was right. Now she just needed a plan. She’d call a plumber to get the ring out of the drain, and then she’d call Brent. Or would it be better to go see him in person? Yes, in person would be better.

  She opened the phone book and flipped through the yellow pages till she found the listing for plumbers. She dialed the first number and let it ring. “Come on, come on,” she said. “Pick up.” Finally an answering machine gave her the company’s business hours, then said to leave a message if there was an emergency and someone would return the call.

  “Yes, this is an emergency,” she said, practically shouting into the receiver. “I’ve dropped a ring down my kitchen sink and I have to get it out. Right away.” She gave her name and phone number and hung up, then she dialed the next number.

  An answering service told her the plumber wouldn’t be available until Monday morning, and that if this was an emergency she should try the other plumbing company in town.

  What to do? Under no circumstances could Brent find out about this. She had to find someone to get the ring out of there. She yanked open the cupboard doors and stared at the pipes under the sink. This didn’t look anything like the plumbing at Brent’s place and even if she knew what she was doing, she didn’t have the right tools. She didn’t have any tools.

  But Nick did. Of course! If Brent could dismantle plumbing, so could her brother. She dialed his number and got his answering machine. “Doesn’t anybody answer their phone on Sunday morning?” she said while she listened to his greeting.

  “Nick? Hi, it’s me, Leslie. I have a bit of a plumbing disaster and I need some help. Call me, okay?”

  Where could he be this early on a Sunday morning? Probably at Maggie’s. Did she dare call there? Given how few options she had, yes, she could.

  Maggie seemed to be the only person in town who was answering her phone that morning, but Nick wasn’t there. He was at their mother’s place, helping to dismantle all the equipment from the party last night.

  Of course he was. He’d volunteered to be in charge of the cleanup crew, and it would probably take them the better part of the day to take everything down and load it onto the trucks. That left her with two options. Wait till the plumber called, but that might not happen till tomorrow. Or call Brent, who was the only other person she knew who could take apart these stupid pipes.

  Hannah had been watching and listening as she picked up the broken glass from the bottom of the sink. “Call him,” she said.

  What other choice did she have? She slowly dialed his number and waited.

  “Good morning,” he said. “Sleep well?”

  “Not really.” She might as well be honest.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” He sounded detached, and that made her nervous.

  “I didn’t call to talk about how I slept.”

  “Why did you call?” Apparently he wasn’t going to make this easy.

  “I need your help.”

  “With?”

  She closed her eyes and took a long, steadying breath. “I dropped something down the kitchen sink.”

  He laughed at that. “More diamonds down the drain?”

  “No. It was…something else. I called both plumbers listed in the phone book but they’re not available, and Nick is over at my mother’s place. You’re the only other person I know who can do this sort of thing.”

  “So I’m your last resort.”

  “No, you’re not. I just didn’t want you to think I’m a total klutz when it comes to jewelry and plumbing.”

  “Now where would I get an idea like that?”

  Funny. “Will you come over? Please?”

  “What have you lost this time?”

  “I’d rather not say.”

  His silence was longer than she would have liked. “But it was a piece of jewelry,” he said finally.

  “What makes you ask that?”

  “You just said you were a klutz when it comes to jewelry and plumbing.”

  Damn. She shouldn’t have let that slip. “I said I didn’t want you to think I was a klutz.”

  “Is this what they teach in law school?” he asked. “How to avoid answering a question?”

  She sighed. This conversation was not going the way she’d hoped. “Okay. Fine. I dropped a piece of jewelry down the kitchen sink, and now I need your help to get it out.”

  He laughed softly. “See? That wasn’t so hard. I’ll be over in a few minutes.”

  She hung up and nodded at Hannah. “He’s on his way.”

  “What did I tell you? Now let’s get you in the bathroom and see how badly you cut yourself.”

  “I don’t think it’s too bad.” But she could see where the blood had seeped through the towel, and the stain was getting bigger.

  “You let me be the judge of that,” Hannah said. “Do you have a first aid kit?”

  “There’s one in the bathroom.”

  She followed Hannah out of the kitchen and sat obediently on the lid of the toilet while the woman inspected the gash on her palm.

  “It doesn’t look that bad,” she said.

  Hannah agreed. “It’s bad enough that it won’t stop bleeding, but at least there’s no glass in it. Just to be safe I think you should see a doctor. It might need a few stitches.”

  Leslie gritted her teeth as Hannah applied peroxide to the wound, then wrapped her hand with a gauze bandage. The doorbell rang just as they were finished.

  Damn. She had planned to be dressed by the time he arrived.

  “Good luck.” Hannah gave her a broad smile and hurried down the hallway to her bedroom.

  Leslie adjusted the sash on her dressing gown, stuck her injured hand behind her back and went to open the door.

  BRENT HAD a hunch he knew what had gone down the drain. If it had been anything other than the ring he’d given her, she wouldn’t have eliminated everyone else in town before she called him. On the bright side, the fact that it ended up in the plumbing suggested she had been wearing it, and confirmed his suspicion that it was a little too big. Which explained why she hadn’t worn it last night, but not why she refused to say anything about it. Or about anything else, for that matter.

  Then she opened the door and was standing there in a flimsy dressing gown that had him thinking that a piece of jewelry down the sink had simply been a ploy to get him over here. Except that didn’t explain why her eyes were red and puffy, as though she’d been crying.

  “Hi. It’s in here,” she said quietly, gesturing toward the kitchen.

  “What happened to your hand?”

  “Oh.” She stuck it behind her back again. “It’s not serious. I cut myself on the coffeepot I broke when I dropped my…something in the sink.”


  “It looks serious.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Did you put this bandage on it?”

  “No, Hannah did.”

  “And she thinks it’s fine?”

  She hesitated.

  “Why don’t I just ask her myself,” he said.

  “Okay, fine. It’s not that great. She thinks it might need a few stitches but that can wait till we find my…till we take the plumbing apart.”

  He now had no doubt whatsoever that it was his ring that had gone down the drain. And he shouldn’t be pleased that it upset her so much, but after being given the cold shoulder last night and introduced as “a friend,” he couldn’t help thinking it was her turn to feel bad. When this latest plumbing disaster had been undone, he was going to install strainers in all the drains in this place. And his.

  He followed her into the kitchen and set his toolbox on the floor. The amount of blood in the sink alarmed him but he didn’t say anything. He opened the cupboard doors and was removing cleaning supplies when he realized she had a garbage disposal unit.

  Oh, she was not going to be happy when she saw how easy this would be.

  He unplugged the unit and rummaged for the flashlight in his toolbox.

  Leslie stood beside him, watching intently.

  He pushed down on the rubber flaps in the bottom of the sink and shone the flashlight down the drain. Yes, there it was, along with yesterday’s coffee grounds, assorted vegetable peels and a couple of pieces of broken glass. He stuck his hand in as far as it would go, snagged the ring between two fingers and pulled it out.

  Her eyes went wide. “You have got to be kidding me. I could have done that.”

  “Would you have shut off the power first?” He tossed his flashlight back in his toolbox and washed and dried his hands.

  “Probably not.”

  “Then you might have been seeing the doctor for more than just a few stitches.” He took her left hand and slid the ring on her finger. “Why didn’t you tell me it was too big?”

  “I wanted it to be perfect.”

  “Does everything have to be perfect?”