Rob plugged in the extension cord, and the tree came to life, a collection of multicolored lights, topped by strand after strand of tiny white twinkling ones. There came a collective “Ooooh” that should’ve been corny, but somehow, wasn’t.
Softly, Maya started to sing “Oh Christmas Tree” and the others all joined in. Even his sons, though they probably had to guess at the words. Vidalia elbowed him. “Come on, open that heart of yours and let the magic in.”
He nodded and started singing. He didn’t mutter. He sang out loud. And he knew he was going to get his wish. A Christmas his sons could remember after he was gone. And all thanks to this woman.
Even as he thought it, she looked up at him with a dreamy smile and a suspicious glimmer on her lashes, and slipped her small hand inside his. He closed his around it, and his heart tightened. It wasn’t fair not to tell her. He realized he had to do it and soon. He was going to break her heart otherwise.
Chapter Seven
* * *
Vidalia said she had posted signs all over the OK Corral explaining that tonight, she was closing in order to help welcome a new saloon to town and encouraging her patrons to stop in to see her at the grand opening of The Long Branch.
Now she was with him, at the brand new saloon, and she and the boys were rehearsing their lines in the store rooms in back. Bobby Joe had spared no expense on the costumes and props. Vidalia had even added Miss Kitty’s beauty mark to her own cheek for good measure. She looked more like Miss Kitty than the real one had, aside from one minor alteration. Vidalia’s hair was jet black, not copper penny red.
Her big skirt and bustier top might have been a little sexier than Miss Kitty had worn, but then, he’d probably think that about a feedbag if she was the one wearing it. “Marshall Dillon” walked up behind her and looked over her shoulder at her reflection. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her décolletage and didn’t bother trying. “Damn, woman. You look even better in that getup than that photo of you from Halloween.”
“Well, it’s a nicer costume,” she said, but her eyes were on him in the mirror. He wore his duster and cowboy hat and her eyes said she liked the look on him.
“Even better than you did in my imagination when I picked it out, too, he went on, as if she hadn’t spoken. “And trust me, that’s saying something.”
“I’m not bad for my age, I suppose.”
“You’re not bad for any age.” He turned toward the still-open door leading into the saloon. “Jason, you out there?”
“Yeah, pop,” Jason said, poking his head through the door. “What’s up?”
Bobby Joe pulled his six shooter from his holster and held it up. “You’re gonna have to switch out my blanks for real bullets, or I’m not gonna be able to keep the competition away from my lady, here.”
Vidalia spun around, snatched the gun away from him. “Keep it in your holster, Marshall.”
He laughed out loud, slapping his thigh, and Jason laughed too, shaking his head and returning to the saloon.
“You look so much better than you did the other day,” Vidalia said, her smile giving way to a serious expression, and a searching one too.
“I feel better. You make me feel better.”
She looked as if she was about to say more, even opened her mouth, but then closed it again, and he could almost hear her thoughts. Not tonight. Tonight’s the grand opening. It can wait.
To ensure she didn’t change her mind, he went to the door, pushed it open a little and peeked out. “Man, the place is jumping, and it’s still early.” They would repeat their floor show twice tonight, and it was nearly time for the first run.
“I’m glad. I want the Long Branch to be successful, Bobby.”
“Not afraid I’m gonna put you outta business anymore?” he asked.
She shook her head firmly. “No. You were right, it’s an entirely different sort of place. I think it’ll complement mine, not compete with it. Yours is for tourists and special occasions. Mine’s for the locals. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you in the beginning.”
He shrugged, letting the door fall closed and facing her fully. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, Vidalia.”
“Oh yes I do, Bobby Joe. And I’m gonna tell you all about it...soon. But not tonight.” She heard the gasp of the crowd and then the sounds of Joey’s grand entrance as he burst into the saloon through the batwing doors, shooting his guns in the air and growling, “Hand over the cash, barkeep!” The barkeep was Robert, who hadn’t wanted to play, but had agreed to tend bar and at least put his hands up and act scared when the villain burst in.
“You’re on, Miss Kitty,” Bobby Joe said. “Head on out there.”
“I’m nervous, can you believe it?” She headed for the door, and Bobby Joe attempted to smack her on the backside as she passed, but the layers of slips and crinoline prevented it from amounting to much.
Then she made her entrance, sashaying across the saloon to the center of the floor, where an area had been cleared of tables for this to play out. She put her hands on her hips and a heap of attitude into her tone as she called, “Just what do you think you’re doin’, Mister? Put those guns down before I show you a new place to keep ‘em.”
Feigning shock, then pushing his hat back a bit and admiring her much like his father had just done, Joey said, “Well now, ma’am, far be it from me to insult a beautiful lady, but I got business here.”
“If your business is robbing this saloon, then it’s my business too. Now put those guns away and get out of here before I do what your mama should’a done years ago.”
“And what would that be, ma’am?”
“Oh, I’ll show you what that would be.” She had, by that time, maneuvered her way to the authentically aged braided leather bull whip that was curled up and hanging on the wall, and she yanked it down and gave it a snap that cracked deliciously.
Technically, Miss Kitty had never used a bull whip in Gunsmoke. It was Barbara Stanwick as Victoria Barclay who had often put bad guys in their places with a whip back in the days of The Big Valley, but Bobby Joe had taken a bit of poetic license, and Vidalia agreed it was a nice effect.
As she swung the whip for a second time, Joey caught it and jerked her forward, pulling her around in front of him and turning them both to face the doors just as Bobby Joe, dressed as Matt Dillon walked in, drew his gun, and ordered, “Let the lady go, pard.” He’d gone out the back door and come around the front to make his entrance, just as planned.
“Drop your gun or I’ll drop your woman, Marshall.”
“Don’t listen, Matthew!” Vidalia cried. “Shoot him in the head. You won’t miss!”
“Yeah, Matthew. Shoot me in the head, and maybe hit her instead. Or put your gun down,” Joey drawled.
Bobby Joe lowered his gun. Vidalia stomped on (beside, actually) Joey’s foot, then spun away from him, and Bobby brought his gun level again and fired twice.
Joey jerked with each blast, got one shot off that went astray, knocking a painting off the wall—it was rigged. Behind the scenes, Jason had simply pulled a cord that sent the picture to the floor. It took Joey five minutes to finally die, and even after he hit the floor he kept kicking and gasping for a while. But he finally ended it. Saloon girl Selene was ruining the ruse by giggling at his antics behind her gloved hand.
Matt Dillon swept Miss Kitty into his arms, bent over her and kissed the living daylights out of her while the crowd whooped and roared. The piano player started tickling the ivories again, and a couple of dusty cowboys (Cory and Jimmy) came in and dragged Joey out of the bar.
But Vidalia wasn’t paying attention anymore. She was in Bobby’s arms and that was right where he wanted her to be. When he lifted his head, she stared into his eyes. “That wasn’t in the script,” she whispered.
“It is now.”
“Bobby, I have something I’ve got to tell you. And it can’t wait any longer.”
He frowned and set her upright again. Then taking off his hat and
waving it at the still cheering patrons, he scooped her up into his arms and strode right out the front door, and around to the rear of the saloon.
There wasn’t much out there, Vidalia thought. A patch of scrub brush, bare ground, and a creek meandering along a few yards back. That was where he carried her, despite her protests. And when he set her down on her feet again, he kept his hands around her waist. “You look so good as Miss Kitty I can’t take my eyes off you. No one could.”
“Oh, stop it Bobby Joe. This is serious.” She lowered her head, unable to look him in the eye. “I should have told you a long time ago. But I just.... I was so ashamed.”
He frowned, his playful expression giving way to a worried one. Then he led her a little farther, where a wooden bench had been placed along the bank of the creek.
“Here. Sit. If you can, in that skirt.”
She bunched its layers up, checked the bench for dirt, and not seeing any, took his advice and sat down. He sat beside her. “I like to come out here and just watch the water go by,” he said. “It’s soothing.”
“Water’s like that for me, too. It’s a nice spot. The whole thing, what you’ve done here, with this place. It’s really amazing, Bobby. It’s wonderful. You did all right.”
“You think the boys liked it?” he asked, his eyes searching hers.
“Joey sure did. He almost convinced me he was a real outlaw.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He nodded, eyes low. “But do they like the place? I built it for them, you know. I want to leave them something more than just a portfolio full of stocks and holdings. I want to leave them something real. Something they can build on, be proud of. You know, when I go.”
“Which isn’t gonna be for another thirty years or so.” She frowned at him. “Is it?”
He smiled as if she’d said something funny. “You said you had something to tell me. You trying to change the subject now?”
She wasn’t. But she thought maybe he was, and she filed it away to mull on later, with all the other little things leading her to a conclusion she didn’t want to reach. But first, she had to come clean. Entirely clean. Because she was falling in love with this man. Again. Maybe she’d never really fallen out of it.
Drawing a deep breath, she nodded once, lifted her chin and met his eyes. “I lied to you all those years ago, Bobby. That night we spent together? The night you can’t remember?”
He nodded, but didn’t speak.
“I told you I didn’t remember either. But I did. And I still do. I remember every single second of it. And it was...it was the most beautiful, the most intimate night of my entire life. You made me feel...cherished. And I didn’t want it to end.”
He sat up straighter and searched her eyes. “Are you saying that we–?”
“We made love. We made sweet, incredible love.” She pressed her lips tight, nodded once. “And there’s more....”
The saloon’s back door opened, and someone leaned out, calling, “Dad, you out there?” It was Jason’s voice.
Sighing, Vidalia felt as if she’d been saved by the bell. God knew she was dreading the rest of what she had to confess to this man.
She got to her feet and turned toward the saloon.
He got up too, put his hands on her shoulders. “Oh, no. No, you’re not getting off that easy.” And he turned her to face him again. “Why, Vidalia? Why would you lie to me about that?”
“Dad?” Jason called.
“Why? Come on, Bobby Joe, I was a married woman. A mother of four. I’d committed adultery.”
“No one ever would’ve known.”
She lowered her head. “I thought about telling you then, but you said you were leaving town. And I just...I just thought it for the best to let you go.”
He nodded, was silent for a long moment, during which his son called for him once more. “I wish I remembered,” he said. “I’ve dreamed about being with you like that, so many times. To think I actually had it and was too damn drunk to remember....”
She lowered her head. “Do you hate me for not telling you?”
“I couldn’t hate you if I tried.” He hooked a finger under her chin, lifted her head, kissed her softly and sweetly, and then a little more deeply. When he lifted his lips from hers, he whispered, “I’d sure like another night like that with you, Vidalia.”
“Ohhh, you’re the devil in blue jeans, tempting me like that Bobby Joe McIntyre.”
“I’m noting only that you didn’t say no.”
“I didn’t say yes, either.”
“Then I’m gonna keep on trying.” He kissed her once more, then turning her, kept his arm around her. “But you said there was more.”
“There is. But I think we’d best save it. We’ve got guests to entertain and your firstborn’s not gonna stop bellering until we get back inside.”
“You sure it can wait, Vidalia? It felt...important.”
He was staring into her eyes as he asked the question. She averted her gaze. “It’s important,” she admitted. “But one confession is enough for one night, don’t you think, Bobby Joe?”
“I do, at that.” He tightened his arm around her, pulling her closer to his side, and they walked together back to the saloon.
The next day morning, Bobby phoned to invite her to go Christmas shopping with him, and Vidalia was all too happy to oblige. They shopped all morning long. The man had shockingly deep pockets, and he didn’t mind dipping into them. She helped him figure out what to get for two of his sons by asking him questions about the young men and guiding him from there. For example, Joey, the youngest, had a penchant for video games when he was younger, and they found him an actual arcade version of his favorite old video game. The thing was huge and would be delivered to the saloon the next day. Rob was into the outdoors, so for him, a hand crafted wooden canoe that was so beautiful it took even Vidalia’s breath away. For Jason, they were drawing a blank, and had stopped for lunch to give their brains a rest. Their table was in the food court in the middle of the closest mall, a full hour from home. Holiday music was playing, and the place was decked to the rafters with tinsel and garland, glittery stars and snowflakes. In the distance, a half circle of twinkling trees bordered a jolly old man in a red suit, who sat in a throne-like chair in front of a mile-long line of eager children with wonder in their eyes.
“I wish I’d been around more when my kids were growing up,” Bobby mused. “I was gone so much.”
“I know. You’ve told me. But regrets are a waste of time. And you’re making it up to them right now.”
“How do your girls feel about their...father, now?”
Why did he hesitate before saying the word “father?” Did he know? Or suspect? She pushed the thought aside. She was going to tell him. It was just a matter of choosing her moment. “It’s a different situation, Bobby Joe. He died before he could even try to apologize to them, much less make things right the way you’re doing now with your boys.”
“Still,” he said. “I’d like to know.”
She shrugged. “We don’t talk about him a lot. I think they might still resent that he wasn’t there for them. But they also know that he couldn’t be other than who he was. You can’t hate someone for being who they are. I’ve raised them to know that. And the truth of the matter is, when you know better, you do better. Sadly, he died before he got around to knowing a better way. I think he knows now.”
That comment made him look up swiftly. “You think he...went to heaven? Even with everything he did? Bigamy?”
“I know he went to heaven, Bobby Joe. I’ve had extensive conversations about this with Reverend Jackson, who you still need to meet, by the way, and with Selene as well.”
He frowned. “Why Selene?”
“She’s...spiritual. Deep. Sometimes the things that girl spews sound like they’re coming from a hundred year old prophet just out of his cave. She’s a special one, she is.”
He nodded, leaning forward, having forgotten his sandwich and cup of soup. She pointed at
it so he’d continue eating. He’d lost a little weight, she thought, since he’d been in town.
He ate, and she talked. “Selene doesn’t believe in an actual Hell. She says if God is love, then a place of eternal torment isn’t impossible. And that makes sense to me.”
He washed a bite of his sandwich down with a drink of sweet tea. “I’m sure your Reverend Jackson doesn’t agree with her.”
“Don’t be so sure. He says it’s a dilemma that’s always troubled him too, for the very same reasons. And that he thinks some things won’t make any sense until we cross over, and that we just have to trust that all is well until then.”
“What do you think happens?” he asked her.
She held his eyes, and her heart ached for the secrets he was keeping, and the worry in her own mind. “I think maybe when we get to the other side, we look back on our deeds, both good and bad, and we see the lessons in all of it. I think we get wiser, and that we heal.”
“That’s a beautiful way to look at things.”
She nodded. “And if I’m wrong, I’ll find out when I cross over.”
He smiled, dipping the final corner of his sandwich into the bit of soup he had left in his bowl. “I guess we all will,” he said softly. And he seemed a little bit grim just then.
Vidalia reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “What’s wrong, Bobby? Sometimes you look so sad it breaks my heart.”
He met her eyes, unashamed of the moisture that had come into his own. None spilled over. He blinked it away. “I don’t want to tell you yet. Not yet, Vidalia. Don’t make me. We’re having so much fun together. And it’s Christmas.”
Those words sent a shiver down her spine. So it was something bad. Way down deep, her suspicion took on more substance, but she refused to look at it or even acknowledge that it was there.
“After the holiday?”
He nodded.
“Right after?”
Again he nodded. “I know it’s not fair, my keeping my secret and choosing my time to share it. And in the very next breath, asking you to reveal the rest of yours. But I am. I have to.”
Sweet Vidalia Brand Page 9