“There’s Calvin,” Eddi said. She nodded toward the field, and Jenny followed her lead.
“Yes, I see him,” Jenny said as Edward caught up with his daughters.
“Is he the young man you mentioned meeting the last time you were here?” Edward asked.
“In the flesh,” Jenny admitted.
“And he’s a veterinarian?” Edward quizzed.
“Yes.”
“You could do worse, my dear,” he said with a shrewd stare at his eldest daughter. “Much, much worse.”
“I know, Dad,” Jenny said with a lift of her hand. “You don’t have to remind me that you don’t like Hal.”
“I never said I don’t like the fellow,” Edward claimed. “Now listen to you. You’re starting to blame me for things I’ve never even said.” He tugged on the back of Jenny’s hair. “You get your hair all cut off and then go sassy on me.” His eyes dancing in revelry, he looked at Eddi. “Why don’t you get a haircut like this and the two of you can just take over the world together.”
“I just might!” Eddi proclaimed.
“I’m going to go over to the ice-cream table and see if I can keep Linda and your mother out of trouble.” An eruption of shrill laughter floated from across the yard.
Eddi observed her sister and mother, bent in hilarity as they each clung to their policeman of choice.
“See what I mean?” Edward asked before walking toward them.
“Has Calvin . . . uh . . . mentioned me at all?” Jenny asked the second her dad was out of ear shot.
“Oh yes,” Eddi answered and offered only a sly smile.
“Well, are you going to tell me what he said or not?” Jenny demanded.
“Oh? You want to know?” Eddi asked.
Jenny narrowed her eyes.
“Okay, I’ll tell you then.” She examined her polished nails. “Every time I saw him, he double-checked to make sure you were still coming up this weekend. As interested as he is, I’m amazed that he hasn’t called and asked you himself.” Eddi scrutinized her sister.
“He doesn’t have my number,” Jenny explained.
“You mean he didn’t ask for it when you were here last?”
“Of course, I just conveniently forgot to give it to him. All I gave him was my email address.”
“Ah, playing hard-to-get?”
“No, not necessarily,” Jenny said and tilted her head. “Just not overly easy. I want to keep him interested, you know. I have responded to all his emails the last few weeks.”
“Well, he’s interested, and that’s for sure.” Eddi slipped her hands into the pockets of her capri pants. “As a matter of fact, Mrs. DeBloom has asked the whole cast of Pride and Prejudice over for tea tomorrow evening at six. She wants us to see how the remodeling on Huntington House is going. I think she’s going to want us to run through the first act on the stage to see how the blocking will go.” Eddi swiped at a trickle of sweat along her temple. “Anyway, Calvin asked me when I got here if you were still coming to the picnic and if you were going to be at Huntington House tomorrow night. I think he’s still wanting you to play his leading lady.”
“Well, I guess if he insists, then I will.” Jenny ducked her head and smiled.
“You will?” Eddi blurted and paused near a massive oak tree.
“I guess. I just can’t seem to get Calvin off my mind these last few weeks,” Jenny admitted, her blue eyes revealing candid validation of her words. “I know it’s way too early to make any kind of commitment, but I’m beginning to wonder if he’s the one I’ve waited for all these years.”
“What about Hal?” Eddi asked.
Jenny’s brow wrinkled. “Oh . . .” she fretted and nipped at the end of her pinkie. “Why did you have to bring him up?”
“I don’t know.” Eddi shrugged and kicked a loose pebble along the sidewalk. “Maybe because this could all start becoming a problem for you if you aren’t careful.”
“It’s not like Hal and I are engaged, for pity’s sake.” Jenny pulled a tissue from her pocket and pressed it against her upper lip, beaded in sweat.
“But isn’t that what he wants?” Eddi asked and wondered how her sister could look so cool, even while blotting sweat.
“He keeps hinting about getting a ring.” Jenny slipped the tissue back into her pocket.
“And you aren’t discouraging him?” The smell of the first smoke from an outdoor grill attested that someone had begun the hamburger and hot dog cooking.
“I’m not exactly discouraging him,” Jenny said. “But I’m not encouraging him, either. I’m just so confused and uncertain right now—especially with all these unexpected feelings about Calvin thrown into the mix.”
“Well, here comes somebody who looks like he’s wanting to unconfuse you,” Eddi said.
Calvin strode toward them from the field. He waved his ball glove and shouted, “Jenny!”
When Jenny waved back, he upped his pace to a trot. “Great to see you!” he puffed the second he stopped beside her. His full blond hair peeked from beneath his ball cap. And Eddi couldn’t determine whether Calvin was glowing with the radiance of heat or the excitement of seeing Jenny.
They were within a few feet of an oak tree beneath which sat several empty chairs. By silent consent, the three meandered toward the chairs. A light breeze tickled the oak, and its leaves shimmied in the promise of approaching evening.
“This has been a hot day.” Calvin’s attention riveted upon Jenny, and he rubbed his hand across his flat abdomen. “But you don’t look the least bit bothered by all the heat.”
Calvin seemed oblivious to his tank top damply clinging to his midsection. Eddi decided the guy was glowing with excitement, not heat.
“Why should I?” With a demure smile, Jenny looked down. A tinge of pink pleasure touched her cheeks. “I’ve been driving in an air-conditioned vehicle all the way from Houston.”
Jenny was wearing that same linen shorts set she got for ten bucks the last time she and Eddi went shopping. As they all sat down, Eddi eyed her own rumpled, white capri pants and sleeveless blouse. The outfit had promised to be appropriate for the event. As usual, Eddi felt faded in comparison to Jenny.
“You got your hair cut didn’t you?” Calvin asked.
“Yes,” Jenny answered. “It’s shorter than it’s ever been. I’m still trying to get used to it.” She stroked her neckline.
“I love it!” Calvin claimed with so much enthusiasm Eddi figured he would love it if Jenny got a mohawk.
Eddi crossed her legs and looked toward the rolling horizon, covered in east Texas pine trees. I might as well not be here, she thought and wondered how Cheri was faring at the watermelon table. She peered in her direction to note that the line had finally diminished.
“Excuse me, Eddi?” Dave’s voice startled Eddi, and she hid the tiny jump.
She gradually shifted her attention from Cheri to him. The last thing she would ever do is let the man know he flustered her . . . or that if he had ever been nice to her, she probably would have fallen at his feet. But he had destroyed that option. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, William Fitzgerald Davidson did what few people could ever claim: He intimidated Eddi with the sheer force of his personality and masculinity.
But only a tiny bit, she hedged. Eddi lifted her chin and gazed up at him.
Dave tugged at the bill of his cap and said, “I need to talk to you,” in a blunt voice that demanded no opposition.
“Oh, really?” Eddi asked and crossed her legs as if she planned to move nowhere. “Well, go ahead then.”
“Not here,” he said and darted a glance toward Jenny and Calvin.
“Those two don’t even have a clue you’re here,” Eddi said.
“Whatever,” Dave said, his lips stiff. “I still want our chat to happen where no one can hear.” His eye twitched. “And I think you know why.”
When Eddi refused to stand, he reached for her arm and tugged her to her feet. Before she could protest, Dave wa
s dragging her toward the ball field.
Nine
Dave wasted no time marching toward one of few isolated spots in the vicinity. The dugout offered the perfect place for this necessary conversation.
Eddi twisted her wrist in his hard grasp. “Has anyone ever told you you’re nothing but a big bully?” she huffed.
Keeping his gaze fixed upon the dugout, Dave refused to respond or to release her. The woman was an idiot if she thought for one second he would allow Jenny’s slip to go by without an interrogation. Nobody in London knew who he was—not even Calvin Barclay. The last thing he needed was for a smart-aleck newcomer to blow his cover.
When his sneakers crunched across the dugout’s sandy concrete, Dave nudged Eddi before him, stopped, and slammed the dugout’s gate. The fencing rattled as he shoved the sliding lock into place.
Eddi turned on him, her fists balled at her side. Dave stepped into her space and expected her to back away. She didn’t budge. A rash of perspiration covered her forehead. Her blond hair looked nearly white against her flushed face. Dave would have presumed her overheated if her pointed gaze hadn’t insisted she was incensed.
“How long have you known?” he barked.
She poised to answer, but Dave held up his hand.
“And don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
Eddi crossed her arms. “Jenny found out when she was here last,” she explained, her voice steadier than Dave expected.
Her ability to keep her voice calm irritated him. “How?” he demanded.
“The internet.” Eddi offered a sarcastic smile and eyed his cap. “It’s a new invention. Haven’t you heard?”
Dave yanked off his hat and slammed it onto the bench atop a scattering of ball gloves. “Blast you, Eddi Boswick!” he yelled. “Why did you have to move here?”
“This is a free country,” she purred. “You’re perfectly free to leave if you don’t think we can coexist.” She extended her hand toward the dugout gate.
“Oh, we can coexist,” he snarled, “but only if you’ll keep your mouth shut.”
Her eyes narrowed, and Dave expected her next statement to hold some irritation. “I haven’t mentioned a word to anyone for three weeks,” she said, her tone as cool as ever.
Dave propped his hands on his hips and stretched for every nuance of her meaning. “So?” he began and waited for her to finish.
“What makes you think I care enough to have a conversation about you with anyone?” she asked.
He remained silent and searched her soul for any hint of duplicity. All Dave detected was brutal sincerity laden with stony resolve. He stepped back and grappled for a hot retort. None came. Instead, he tried to decide if he were relieved that she hadn’t revealed his identity, or disappointed that she didn’t care enough to talk about him.
“I thought by now your opinion of me would have changed,” Dave finally said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eddi asked.
A wisp of a hot breeze stirred up red dust on the ball field and floated into the dugout. Dave detected the faint floral scent he recalled so well the day he’d buried his head in her hair and prayed the tornado wouldn’t eat them alive.
“Most women decide they really like me once they find out about my money.” Dave didn’t mention how much he hoped Eddi’s opinion of him hadn’t been affected by her knowledge of his fortune.
“Humph.” Eddi gazed toward the sizeable church. “I don’t base my opinion of people on how wealthy they are. I value people because they are created in the image of God. That means I’ll value and respect my garbage collector as much as the bank president. As for you . . .” Eddi turned her attention back to Dave, “it doesn’t matter to me if you own the whole internet.”
“Oh, so you haven’t suddenly decided I’m a prime matrimonial prospect?” Dave didn’t question why the answer to his verbal jab was so important. Or why he’d begun to look forward to play practice with more warmth than he’d admit. Or why he’d been disappointed when there wasn’t at least one kiss scene in the whole play.
Eddi brushed past him and unlocked and opened the squeaky gate. “When I get married, it will be for love,” she growled. “So don’t get your hopes up.” She stomped out of the dugout.
Dave winced at her using his own words against him, but he wasted no time following her. “Eddi!” he called and rushed through the squawking gate. “Eddi!” he hollered again.
He spotted her twenty feet away, storming past the portable bleachers as if she were a charging warrior. Dave ran to her side and placed his hand on her shoulder.
“What?” she snapped and turned on him. She glowered at Dave as if she were seriously thinking of snatching him bald.
At last, Dave had rattled her composure. He repressed the satisfied smile that begged to be expressed. Dave needed a promise. He wasn’t in the position to gloat. He hated having to plead for her cooperation, but the necessity couldn’t be denied.
“Would you and Jenny please promise not to tell anyone?” he asked. “I’ve built a new life here. I like my privacy.”
“What exactly are you trying to hide, William Fitzgerald Davidson?” Her head bobbed from side to side as she spoke his name.
“Hide?” Dave prompted. For a wrinkle in time he wondered if she had somehow discovered his secret in the building behind his house.
“Yes.” She crossed her arms and observed him as if he were a wicked pirate. “Or might I better ask, who are you trying to hide from?”
A stream of stinging sweat seeped to the corner of his eye. No way does she know, he thought as he peered into her accusing eyes. No way.
“I’m trying to preserve my privacy,” he enunciated each word as if she were a daft three-year-old.
“You have a flamboyant way of doing that, don’t you?” she prompted.
“Meaning?”
“Anybody with half a brain can tell the person who owns your ranch has to have plenty of dough.” Eddi flipped her braid over her shoulder, and Dave wondered what her hair looked like hanging freely down her back. He’d only seen it braided or in a chignon.
“That place is modest compared to what I could afford,” he said. “And besides . . .” Dave paused and eyed a thunderhead towering in the distance, “local rumor has it that all my money comes from Aunt Maddy.” He offered a mild grin. “Haven’t you heard?”
“Yes, I’ve heard, but I stopped believing that the minute I saw your ranch.”
Dave imagined her in court saying, “Let the record show,” or whatever it was lawyers were supposed to always be crowing. “You might have stopped believing,” he said and faced her, “but the rest of the town hasn’t.”
“Okay,” she acquiesced. “I won’t tell anybody.”
“And Jenny? Will you ask Jenny to do the same?” He gazed past Eddi to the oak tree where Calvin sat, enthralled with Eddi’s sister.
“I’ll make sure she doesn’t tell anyone.” Eddi crossed her arms. “Happy now?”
“Delighted!” Dave was so relieved he was tempted to kiss her whole face. Even though the prospect heated his veins, his imagination insisted on another reaction from her. Dave pictured Eddi hacking and gagging and on the verge of regurgitation. The refreshing part of that scene was that no amount of money he owned would sway Eddi to make a play for him. None. Dave laughed out loud.
“What?” Eddi asked.
He observed a trio of tykes scrambling for the baseball field. The smell of charcoal promised a rewarding meal after the game. “Oh nothing,” Dave mumbled and trudged past her. “Nothing that would interest you.”
He felt her watching him but kept a steady gait toward the three boys. His humor diminished as he recalled those minutes after the tornado when Eddi had been in his arms. She’d been a long way from gagging—a long way indeed.
A warning jolt reminded Dave he was flirting with his own destiny. From the first time he met Eddi Boswick, Dave suspected she would never base her value for him on h
is wealth. This evening proved his assumption. But the fact that Eddi had a good heart and Dave found her increasingly attractive didn’t void his fear of falling into the same kind of matrimonial patterns his parents exhibited.
The young ball players ran for Dave and wrapped themselves around his legs. Dave bent and attempted to tickle all three of them at once. They clamored for more, so Dave grabbed the shortest, turned him upside down, and jiggled his tummy. He screamed with laughter while his two friends hollered, “Me next, Coach Dave! Me next!”
As Dave obliged each of them, he wondered what it would be like to one day have his own son. His attention was tugged back to Eddi as she walked across the church grounds, past a group of elderly men playing horseshoes.
If I don’t get married, I’ll never know what it’s like to have my own son, he thought and began to speculate if Eddi Boswick would make every effort to live at peace with her husband. She’s so tangled up in her own career, she probably wouldn’t waste her time on perpetual conflict, he thought as he tickled the final boy. Dave smiled and decided that when he ever did get married, he wanted a woman like Eddi. A woman secure in who she was and what she was about.
Dave deposited the last boy onto the ball field and made his announcement. “Okay, it’s time to get warmed up! You guys get your gloves and head to the outfield. We’ll practice catching!”
The boys dashed to the dugout for their gloves, and Dave used the lull to steal another glimpse of Eddi. She paused by the ice-cream table and stood beside her parents. A younger woman who favored Eddi was also in the circle, along with two men. Dave figured the gal was Eddi’s younger sister.
Shrill laughter erupted as the young woman ran from the circle and the dark-haired man chased her. She pitched a bottle of Coke into the air, and the man attempted to catch it. But the gal was too quick. She raced toward the ball field with the man in merry pursuit. As they neared, Dave realized the man resembled a person he’d known some years before. A person he hoped to forever forget. A scoundrel named Rick Wallace.
First Impressions: A Contemporary Retelling of Pride and Prejudice Page 10