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ARKANSAS WEDDINGS: THREE-IN-ONE COLLECTION

Page 47

by Shannon Taylor Vannatter


  “So you’re basically saying you don’t want to see me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m saying, you need to spend time with your newfound family and I need to spend time with my son and party planning. That doesn’t leave much time for anything else.”

  “I’ll make time.”

  “Not now, Ryler. Let’s concentrate on getting this job finished.” She turned away and ran toward her apartment.

  Finish the job so she could walk out of his life again. He couldn’t let her do it.

  Ryler mentally patted himself on the back for giving his helper the day off with only a week left before the grand opening. He snuck a glance at Shell crawling around on her hands and knees, with dirt on her nose, looking way too cute.

  With a grin, he flipped a trowel of dirt on her back.

  Shell stiffened then turned and flung a fistful in his face.

  Retaliation came as he smeared another handful down her shoulder.

  Her world-weary sigh grated on his nerves.

  “Ryler, please. We’ve got work to do.”

  He tackled her and rolled her over, poised with a handful over her mouth.

  Blue eyes pleaded. “We need to finish this job.”

  He dropped the dirt on the ground. “You’ve got something on your nose.” As he wiped the smear away, more than anything, he wanted to kiss her. His gaze locked on her lips.

  Chapter 9

  Good thing the workers are all inside.” Pushing away from him, she hurried to put some distance between them. “Truce.”

  Her rejection sliced through him.

  “Except this nice, plump earthworm would look great in your hair.”

  She screamed, jumped up, and ran.

  “I was kidding.”

  “Well, it’s not funny.”

  “You’re afraid of earthworms.”

  “Not really afraid of them. They’re just so”—she shivered—“so yucky.” He laughed and shoved the worm in her direction again.

  Though she was ten feet away from him, she did a heebie-jeebie dance. “Stop it.”

  “Ryler, really.” Sylvie’s tone reprimanded. “Stop torturing the poor girl.” His mother stood with Helen Fenwick.

  What to call her? Mother? Mom? “Afternoon, Sylvie.”

  Shell’s eyes widened.

  “I’m sure you remember Helen. Helen, my son Ryler.”

  “Nice to meet you, ma’am. I’d offer a handshake, but…” Ryler swiped his hands together.

  “I was at the floral shop, where Helen works part-time, this morning. Adrea sent her over to discuss the arrangements for the grand opening and I thought I’d join her to see how things were coming here.” Sylvie looked as if she might pounce on him with a hug, despite the grime.

  “I can’t.” Shell rubbed shaky hands down her thighs. “Ryler’s helper isn’t here today, so I have to help him. And besides, I’m a mess.”

  “Heavens, Ryler, what did you do, roll her in the dirt?”

  He winked at Shell. “I can spare you for a bit.” But not for long. Too long and he’d miss her. But he knew she needed to make peace with Helen.

  With a hard swallow, Shell clapped her hands together. “Maybe, if Helen can excuse my appearance, I could spare an hour or so.”

  “Oh, it won’t take nearly that long, dear, and a little dirt never hurt anything. Adrea wanted me to check each room’s size, so we can scale the arrangements to fit.”

  Tough choice. Shell ground her back teeth together. Deal with Ryler or Wade’s mother?

  “I’ll stay here and keep Ryler company.” Sylvie perched on a white iron bench, well away from the dirt.

  Great. Alone with Wade’s mother. Shell wasn’t sure she’d made the right decision as she led Helen to the house.

  “There are a lot of stairs.” Shell slowed her pace to match Helen’s. “Are you sure you’ll be all right?”

  “I’m fine.” Helen leaned into her cane with each step. “The exercise will be good for me. You know, I never had a bit of trouble with arthritis until I broke this hip.”

  Did Helen know she’d gotten pregnant? Did she think there had been an abortion? A miscarriage? Whatever Helen thought, Chance’s grandmother was oblivious to his existence.

  “Thank you for coming to the funeral.”

  Shell’s breath caught. “You seem okay.”

  “I lean on Jesus and I have peace about where Wade is.” Helen grasped Shell’s arm as they stepped inside the house.

  “When did Wade become a Christian?”

  “About the time he went into rehab and then had that long stretch of sobriety.”

  They stopped in the living room. “Oh my, Shell, you’ve done wonders with this place. It’s lovely.”

  “Thank you.” A sense of accomplishment put a real smile on her face.

  “I know what you’re thinking.”

  “You do?”

  “You’re wondering how I can believe Wade is in heaven after all the bad things he did.”

  “Well—”

  “God says, ‘I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.’ That’s in Hebrews 13:5. We might turn our backs on Him, but He’s faithful. And besides, in the end, Wade made peace with God. I can’t tell you how I’ve clung to that. He was drunk and not in his right mind when he…”

  “I’m glad you’re okay. You’ve been through a lot.”

  “Sometimes, I feel alone, but God reminds me I’ve got Him, my church, and countless friends.”

  And a grandson you don’t know about.

  Helen squeezed her arm. “I’m excited about the grand opening. This project will be so much fun.”

  Shell’s heart twisted with a mix of emotions. After the grand opening, Shell would go home. Home to Chance. Away from Ryler. For good. Ryler took his ball cap off and threw it onto his truck seat. Scrubbing his hand over his curls, he tried to erase the ring of flattened hair around his head a full day of work caused. No use, he plopped the hat back on. He probably should wait and stop by the RoZark Hills Roasterie before work in the morning, but his cupboard was bare. No coffee. He couldn’t go home without it. And he’d already placed his order earlier in the day.

  He pulled in and parked next to a familiar dark maroon Cadillac. Darrell hadn’t mentioned he’d be in town today. Climbing out of his truck, he glanced down at his dirt-and-grass-streaked jeans. His work boots were caked in mud. They might not let him in. He stomped both feet and tried to dust some of the grime from his clothing.

  Surely they’d forgive a guy suffering from coffee withdrawals for stopping in straight from work.

  The bell jingled above the door as he opened it. He closed his eyes and inhaled the coffee aroma, almost tasting a savory cup in the air.

  The owner was talking to someone, so Ryler went to the shelf with his favorite chocolate-covered coffee beans. Five of these babies and the top of his head buzzed. He picked his favorite, white chocolate.

  “Now, our Blueberry Cobbler blend would be a nice morning coffee for your guests.”

  “Oh, that sounds heavenly.”

  Shell’s voice.

  Ryler stiffened.

  Peering around the silver shelf loaded with fancy coffee cups and pots, he spotted her. With Darrell. Standing too close to her.

  He could quietly back out the door, but the bell would ring and she’d probably already seen him.

  “Once the B&B opens, Shell will have full authority to try new blends, but I’d like something more—”

  “Darrell means the new manager he’s going to hire any day now will have full authority. I won’t be here.”

  Darrell spotted him and rolled his eyes. “Don’t you think we need something more manly for the B&B? Would you want blueberry cobbler coffee?”

  Ryler cleared his throat. “I’m a Columbian kind of guy, myself.”

  “We have your order ready. One pound of Columbian La Ladera. I’ll be right with you.”

  “Now, that sounds like coffee.” Darrell surveyed the list of flavor
s.

  “That would be a nice evening coffee. Not too heavy, but rich flavor with a hint of caramel,” the wife half of the owner team said as she grinned at Ryler. “The new B&B is going to serve our coffee.”

  “They won’t regret it. Best coffee in the state.”

  “Did you know her husband set up the first Starbucks factory in New York?” Darrell touched Shell’s elbow.

  Ryler’s breath stalled. “I’ll come back. I’m kind of embarrassed coming in here looking like this anyway.”

  “Oh, you’re fine.” The owner waved a carefree hand at him.

  “Here, ring him up real quick.” Darrell stepped aside, linking his arm with Shell’s. “No sense in you coming back.”

  Shell never even looked at him as Ryler handed the owner a ten and a five and grabbed his treats. “Keep the change.”

  “You sure? Don’t you want a bag?”

  “No, I’m fine. Thanks.” Ryler rushed out and jumped into his truck.

  So why was she with Darrell? And why wasn’t Darrell’s wife with him? Why did it require Shell and Darrell to choose coffee for the B&B?

  Finally, the grand opening.

  Standing on her haven, the balcony, Shell took deep breaths.

  The orchestra played from the pristine lawn in front of the miniature Romance Waterfalls. The stringed instruments, backed by trickling water, soothed her frayed nerves.

  All evening, she’d avoided Ryler. Since Darrell still hadn’t hired a manager, she’d tag-teamed with Eva as they’d answered question after question, given tour after tour, and greeted guest after guest.

  She’d even given tours of the apartment. Officially the honeymoon suite now, as all of her things were already packed.

  The soft breeze ruffled the sheer overlay of her pale blue dress. Since many on the guest list were from Searcy, countless wide-eyed guests had stared at her, as if they didn’t know she could clean up so well. As if they couldn’t imagine Wade Fenwick’s floozy had achieved such an accomplishment as the immaculate Rose Bud Bed & Breakfast.

  “There you are.” Darrell’s voice came from behind her.

  She turned to face him and smiled at an older, well-to-do couple beside him.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Morris Vanderhaven, meet Shell Evans, the mastermind behind this renovation project.”

  Shell’s mouth went dry. The last time she’d seen Mr. Vanderhaven, she was fifteen and he’d been in her mother’s bed.

  Now, he looked as if he might pass out.

  “The Vanderhavens live in Searcy, and Morris is the president of Home Town Bank.”

  Might as well put the old philanderer’s mind at ease.

  Shell mustered up a smile and offered her hand. “So nice to meet you both.”

  “This place is absolutely gorgeous.” Mrs. Vanderhaven’s natural Southern belle drawl warmed Shell’s heart.

  Such a sweet lady didn’t deserve an unfaithful husband.

  “Morris, I’d love to spend our next anniversary here.”

  Mr. Vanderhaven cleared his throat. “Well, um, we’ll see.”

  “I wish I could stay here, too.” Shell clutched the railing. “But the renovation project is finished, so I’ll be going back to the apartments I manage in Conway.”

  Mr. Vanderhaven visibly relaxed. “Perhaps we could make arrangements to stay here.”

  “The clerks are already in the lobby taking reservations.”

  “Oh, let’s hurry.” Mrs. Vanderhaven led her anxious husband through the door. “I want one of these two rooms close to the balcony.”

  “I’ll be right there.” Darrell’s eyebrows drew together. “What was that about?”

  “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

  “You okay?” He put a brotherly arm around her shoulders.

  “A little worse for wear.”

  A series of loud pops made her jump. Fireworks of every color streaked through the sky.

  “We should have put this shindig off another two weeks and scheduled it for the Fourth of July.”

  “I couldn’t take another two weeks, and besides, it’s on a Thursday this year. We couldn’t have a grand opening on a Thursday.”

  “You made this place what I always knew it could be, and tomorrow you can go home to Chance.” He gave her arm a squeeze. “I sure wish my wonderful wife didn’t have to commute back and forth to run this place.”

  Shell sighed. “You’re not guilting me into staying. All you have to do is hire someone.”

  “None of the applicants were right, since the perfect manager refused to apply,” he said pointedly. “I better go make sure Mrs. Vanderhaven gets the exact room she wants. You coming? I still need you to help Eva work the crowd.”

  “In a minute.” Closing her eyes, Shell inhaled the honeysuckle scent of the evening air as Darrell’s footsteps faded away.

  “Shell Evans.” A male voice sliced through her peace.

  She turned around.

  Pete Callaway stood in the doorway. Pete Callaway, her first crush. The pimple-faced senior who’d taken her virginity during her sophomore year, then tossed her aside for his next conquest a few months later. The pimples were gone, but he was still gangly, all legs, and painfully thin.

  “Hi, Pete.” Nary a quiver in her voice. She mentally patted herself on the back.

  “I couldn’t believe my eyes when I looked up here and saw you standing at the railing. You look great. Really great.” His gaze wandered slowly over every inch of her. “I haven’t seen you since you were dating Wade.”

  She bit down the bitter revulsion threatening to rise up in her throat. What had she ever seen in him?

  “I guess you don’t live around here.” She stepped back toward the railing. “Everyone knew I was here within a week of my arrival.”

  “I’m still in Romance. My numerous rental properties keep me really busy.” His chest puffed up as he spoke.

  Two old houses. Guess that was numerous to him. “Well, I better get back to my guests.” She tried to slip past him.

  He grabbed her wrist. “Now don’t run off just yet. Maybe we could have coffee. Or something.”

  Forcing herself not to cringe, she smiled. “No thank you.”

  “We could get reacquainted, if you know what I mean.” Alcohol soured his breath, even though Grace was only serving tea and coffee.

  “I know exactly what you mean.” She tried to pull her wrist away, but he held fast. “And I’m not interested.”

  “Oh come on, Shell. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

  Despite his painful grip, she managed to jerk her arm free.

  “Keep your hands off her.” Ryler’s steely tone came from the doorway.

  Pete whirled around. Both eyebrows rose. “Ryler Grant, isn’t it? I was just welcoming Shell back to the area. Nice to see you here.”

  “Is it?”

  “I better be getting back to the party.” Pete slunk through the door.

  She turned away from Ryler and worked at keeping her voice steady. “This turned into quite the bash. I was hoping for a hundred guests, but I think it’s more like two. Good thing I ordered extra food.”

  Footsteps closed in on her. “You okay?” His voice came from just behind her.

  “Fine.”

  He joined her at the railing. Tenderly, he caught her reddened wrist and inspected the marks. “I take it you know my landlord.”

  She sighed, not wanting to get into it, yet knowing Ryler wouldn’t let it rest. “Remember the high school boyfriend Collin tried to steal me away from?”

  “Pete?” He let go of her. “A real winner.”

  “The place looks great, doesn’t it? We did a great job.”

  “We make a great team.” His breath stirred the hair at the crown of her head.

  She shivered.

  “What now?”

  “You find another job. I go back to Conway.”

  “But we make a great team.”

  She shrugged. “Who knows? We might work t
ogether again someday.”

  Gently gripping her shoulders, Ryler turned her to face him. “That’s not what I meant, Shell. I want a future with you.”

  The brown pinstripe suit accentuated his broad shoulders and the moss-colored shirt mirrored his eyes. The evening breeze blew his dark chocolate waves.

  Determination slipping, her gaze dropped to his chest. “My future is in Conway.”

  “Mine could be, too. I bet there’s lots of landscaping jobs there.”

  “No. Your future is here—with your family.”

  “I love you, Shell.” He tipped her chin up, until her gaze met his.

  Wanting to press her cheek into his palm, her throat constricted. She swallowed hard, biting back the reciprocated words that threatened to tumble out. “It can’t work. We’re too different.”

  “You’re more like me than anyone I’ve ever known. It’s what initially drew me to you. We were both broken and used. Now we’re Christians, healing and changing. Let’s heal and change together.”

  “You’re blue-blooded Kroft and I’m—”

  “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, inside and out.”

  “My mother prostituted herself, Ryler.”

  “But that has nothing to do with who you are.”

  “Haven’t you ever heard ‘the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree’? Even if I could forget my past, these high-class citizens can’t. I see it in their eyes every time they look at me.” She scanned the crowd below: Doreen Hughes, the Vanderhavens, and even Pete Callaway. She shuddered. “Do you know who her mother is?”

  “You’re imagining things.”

  She closed her eyes. “You saw Pete. You know what he wanted—what he expected—from me. I can’t stay here and get away from that.”

  “Shell, stop it and listen to me. I want to marry you. I want us to raise Chance. Here or in Conway, wherever you want. I want us to build a family together, maybe even have kids of our own someday.”

  “I’ll never bring my son to this self-righteous town.” And I’ll never let him down by telling him I’m his mother.

  “Shell,” Darrell called.

 

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