Fortune Found

by Victoria Pade

  “Well, don’t leave us hanging any more than we already have been,” Flint joked from beside Jessie. “What the hell happened to you?”

  “That old girlfriend of yours, Coop—Lulu? Anthony’s mother? She called me just as I was getting dressed for the wedding. She said she’d read about my engagement to Lily, about the wedding date. She’d tried to reach you, but couldn’t—”

  “Neither could the rest of us when we needed to know if he was Anthony’s father,” Drew contributed.

  “I know, I know,” Coop said. “I took the loner thing pretty far—traveling around, not keeping contact with anyone. But all that’s changed,” he added, rubbing Anthony’s back, smiling at Kelsey.

  “At first Lulu said she thought you might have been coming to the wedding,” William went on. “I said you were, that you were in Red Rock. But that changed her tune, she seemed panicky, she said she didn’t want to face you. She told me that she’d realized she was pregnant just after the two of you had broken up, that you’d already left Minnesota and that she hadn’t been able to locate you. She’d had the baby—Anthony—but after that she’d lost her job. She’d become depressed, she just wasn’t able to handle being a mother, and I can tell you that just from my one conversation with her, she was definitely troubled.”

  Jessie saw the dark frown that was clouding Coop’s expression as his uncle went on.

  “Lulu said that you’d told her that you didn’t have any intention of ever marrying, of having children, and I think she was worried that you might refuse to take Anthony if he came to you through her. She said that you had talked about your family—me, Patrick, Ryan…”

  William cast a caring glance at Lily when he said the name of his cousin, her late husband.

  Then he went on. “Lulu said that the family here in Red Rock was the kind of family you’d wished for yourself, and she thought it was the kind you would wish for Anthony, too. So she wanted me to take him, to raise him if you wouldn’t, to give him a home or at least find him one among us.”

  Jessie saw more emotions cross Coop’s expression—guilt, regret, sadness—and watched her sister grasp his arm, offering support.

  “Lulu was so upset on the phone,” William continued from there. “She definitely didn’t sound stable. I tried to calm her down, I told her to just come to the wedding, to bring Anthony, that I’d get her together with you, Coop, that everything would be all right. But she wouldn’t listen. She insisted that I had to go to her and take the baby. I said my wedding was in barely an hour, but she wouldn’t have it any other way, so I told her I’d see what I could do to get there.”

  “And that’s what he tried to do,” Lily announced. “That was where he was off to just before the wedding. He thought he could make it to Haggerty, where Lulu was staying. That he could either reason with the woman and persuade her to come back to Red Rock with him, or at least get Anthony and make it back for the wedding.”

  “But when I got to the motel where Lulu said she was staying, she was gone. I thought she’d either changed her mind about giving up the baby or that she might have done what I’d asked after all and come to Red Rock. So I headed back here, in a hurry to get to the wedding…”

  William cast an apologetic glance at Lily. Jessie saw him squeeze Lily’s hand before he continued with his account.

  “But there’s that curve in the road just outside of Haggerty…” William said. “I was driving fast, to get back for the wedding, and as I came around that curve there was a car coming toward me, over the line. I had to swerve to keep from crashing into it. I heard the screech of tires and a crash behind me, but I couldn’t control my own car—I must have hit a bad patch in the road. I spun out and down the side of the embankment…” William shook his head. “And everything went black.”

  “It had to have been Lulu’s car you nearly crashed into, that crashed when she swerved to miss hitting you, too,” Ross said then. The car that they’d already learned Lulu had been driving, the accident that had killed her. “And because we know now that Anthony had been left on the church steps—”

  “Maybe Lulu was worried that Uncle William wouldn’t go to Haggerty to get Anthony after all,” Coop put in. “She must have brought him to the church and then been on her way back to Haggerty—”

  “When her path and Dad’s crossed on that curve,” Drew finished.

  “I know she was terribly disturbed when I talked to her,” William said. “She probably shouldn’t have been driving. And I was rushing to get to my Lily…”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Jessie heard Lily say to William in a tone meant for him alone.

  “We should all just be grateful that Anthony wasn’t in either car, and that you came out okay, Uncle William,” Flint insisted.

  There was another somber moment when Jessie had no doubt that the woman who had died, Anthony’s birth mother, was in all of their thoughts. But then Cooper seconded Flint’s sentiments and set off a chain reaction of relief and gratitude from the rest of the family.

  In the midst of that, William said in a booming voice that carried across the yard, “One more thing!”

  Everyone quieted again.

  “My darling Lily, who never doubted that something beyond my control had kept me from the first wedding, has again agreed to be my bride. And because we’ve waited long enough, we’ve set the date for Saturday—two weeks from yesterday!”

  That truly broke the serious undertones. Laughter, clapping and cheers greeted that news as many of the Fortunes approached the deck to shake William’s hand, to hug Lily, to congratulate the couple anew.

  But as Jessie looked on, taking in the Fortunes’ well-earned happiness, seeing all the contented couples, recalling who was engaged to whom, and added to it now the announcement of yet another wedding so soon, a strong wave of melancholy overwhelmed her.

  Then, compounding it, she heard her sister say, “Let’s break open the champagne now, toast our new house, Uncle William getting his memory back and the wedding after all.”

  But just when Jessie wasn’t sure she could participate, when she was tempted to slip away altogether before her own feelings put a damper on anything, Flint winked at her.

  “Champagne sounds like our department,” he said, drawing her into the warmth of a gaze that was for her alone and unwittingly giving her strength.

  And that was when she knew that what was really going to get her through the next few hours of that party, of everyone else’s happiness and celebration, was the simple thought that when it was over, she would have Flint Fortune all to herself.

  Chapter Nine

  The party went on until nearly ten o’clock Sunday evening as everyone but Jessie threw themselves into celebrating.

  The general consensus was that William regaining his memory was the turnaround for the Fortune family after half a year of turmoil and strife.

  But because that turmoil had also brought some good in the form of five different couples finding each other, of the new addition of Anthony to the family, and of Coop not only discovering he was a father, but of Coop and Flint also coming into the Fortune fold in a way they hadn’t been before, the family was also grateful. And that gratitude, coupled with the relief that William was back to himself, put them in a festive mood.

  When the party finally did begin to break up, Jessie’s parents took her kids home to put them to bed and Jessie stayed to help Kelsey, Coop and Flint clean up. With four of them working it didn’t take too long and by eleven Kelsey and Coop said good-night, leaving Flint and Jessie in the kitchen.

  “What do you say?” Flint asked then. “Think you can collapse on the couch in your studio while I take pictures or are you too tired for even that?”

  The emotions that the evening had stirred in Jessie had zapped her energy and she was beat. But even so she couldn’t bring herself to call it a night before having those few moments alone with him that she had been craving all evening.

  “As long as I only have to collapse
on the couch while you work, I think I can manage it,” she told him.

  He reached to the top of Kelsey’s refrigerator and took down a small digital camera. “Then let’s do it,” he suggested, sounding far more lively than she felt.

  Turning off the kitchen lights and closing the door behind them, they went into the now-quiet backyard, crossed to the gate in the side fence and headed for Jessie’s studio.

  She let them into that, turned on the lights at both ends of the open space and then went directly to the sofa where she kicked off the sandals that had been on her feet for too long today, and sat sideways on the couch so she could put her legs up.

  “Aah…” she sighed as she settled in.

  And before she knew what was happening, Flint took his first snapshot—of her.

  “No, no, no, no, no—that wasn’t our deal,” she chastised. “No pictures of me!”

  She’d made a pit stop in her sister’s bathroom just a little while ago to be sure she didn’t look too haggard. The khaki slacks and the red scoop-necked T-shirt she’d worn to the party weren’t excessively wrinkled, and the lace camisole she’d worn under the T-shirt still peeked pristinely above the neckline.

  Her mascara and blush had held up, and so had the French twist she’d put her hair into, leaving her with only the need to fluff the curls that spewed from the top of it at her crown.

  She’d borrowed Kelsey’s new lip gloss because her own had disappeared, but regardless of the fact that she’d left the bathroom satisfied that she was still presentable, she hated having her picture taken and certainly didn’t want it done now, unawares, by Flint.

  And yet he snapped a second one despite her refusal.

  “Don’t make me come over there…” she said as if he were one of her kids.

  It made him laugh. But he turned the camera away with an “Okay, okay” that sounded exactly like Braden did when he was being forced to stop his mischief.

  Without having to contend with being photographed, Jessie restarted her relaxation process. She sank farther down on the sofa cushion, bent her legs at the knees and got comfortable.

  “Oh, I’m glad that party is over,” she said, realizing only after the fact that that probably wasn’t something to admit to Flint.

  But he was turning one of her sculptures this way and that to make sure he got the best angle and seemed to take the remark in stride. “Yeah, I didn’t think you were having a great time. I’m just not sure why—it was a nice party.”

  “It was,” Jessie agreed quickly.

  “Not a fan of the Fortunes—because it did end up being more about our family than anything, didn’t it?”

  “No, it isn’t that,” she answered even quicker. “Your family has all been wonderful—so welcoming to Kelsey and the rest of us, friendly and sweet. We’re all glad your uncle got his memory back, and Lily even extended a personal invitation to me, the kids and my parents to come to her and William’s wedding.”

  She hadn’t intended to end that in a tone of voice that hinted at being maudlin, but she had. And Flint must have heard it because he stopped mid-photograph to glance at her.

  “And that offended you somehow?” he said, clearly trying to figure out what was going on with her.

  “No,” she said yet again. “That was nice, too. It’s just that…”

  Was this something to talk about with Flint of all people?

  She didn’t know. But she also didn’t want him to think she had any bad feelings about his family, so she shrugged and said, “It’s just me. Engagements, pending weddings, weddings—since Pete died they just bring me down a little.”

  “Oh, sure they do!” he said as if he’d had a revelation. “And that party—wow, pretty much everybody but you and I were either married, newly married or engaged. And then the big announcement of Uncle William and Lily’s wedding? Of course that couldn’t have been a barrel of laughs for you. Geez, Jessie, I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, no, there’s nothing for you or anybody else to be sorry about. Life goes on. My own sister is one of the engaged, for crying out loud. It just kind of hit me—that happens sometimes.”

  And if it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t have been able to weather it as well as I did, she thought.

  She didn’t tell him that, though. It wasn’t something she fully understood herself, and she definitely didn’t want to admit that that had been the case.

  Flint didn’t say more either, concentrating on taking his pictures, and it struck her that he was at a loss for what else to say on the subject. But that was okay. It left her to merely watch him—one of the original enticements of letting him do this tonight.

  And watch him she did, drinking in the sight of him, tall and lean, muscular, dexterous, his big hands wielding the camera, carefully altering the positions of her sculptures to get the exact shot he wanted of each piece.

  He could do as right by a pair of slacks as he could by a pair of jeans, Jessie decided, but as she studied him she realized that she preferred him in the jeans. She liked the more casual look that didn’t in any way mute his intense masculinity.

  But the white shirt? That set off his dark coloring, the bittersweet chocolate tones of his carelessly disheveled hair, the espresso eyes, the healthy-looking, slightly sun-bronzed hue of his skin.

  She thought that he must have shaved just before the party had started because his beard hadn’t made much of a reappearance yet, leaving the lower half of his handsome face smooth and unshadowed. And after considering it, she still couldn’t make the choice between liking him better scruffy or clean-shaven, and had to accept the fact that there just wasn’t a way she didn’t like the look of that face.

  The time he spent photographing her sculptures passed before she knew it. “Okay, I think those will work,” he said, setting his camera on the table near the door, then coming to the sofa.

  Without asking permission, he bent over, clasped Jessie’s knees to lift her legs, sat down and then lay them across his lap. Resting his arm atop them there, he turned to face her, stretched his other arm along the back of the couch cushions, and finally settled in to look intently at her.

  “Now,” he said as if the time had come for something. “Tell me about Pete.”

  The way he said that somehow touched her. Beyond the platitudes, she’d learned since her husband’s death that people rarely knew what to say. And that most of them, even family, avoided talking outright about Pete, probably because they thought it was painful for her to be reminded of him. Remembering him, thinking about him, did bring its fair share of pain, but at the same time, she hated having her life with Pete be an untouchable subject.

  And when it came to that subject with another man? Flint had opened that door himself and seemed to acknowledge and honor her history with Pete. It allowed her to claim him openly. It made her feel free to talk about him.

  And tonight—even though it hadn’t occurred to her before now—she realized that she wanted to talk about her lost husband. That after having the sense that his spirit was with her today, after enduring hours of a renewed feeling of loss in the face of so many other happy couples, he was on her mind right along with Flint.

  “Pete and I were high school sweethearts—like Melina and Rafe Mendoza,” Jessie said. “Only we didn’t break up and then have to rediscover each other. Once we met, we stuck like glue.”

  “Did you meet at the beginning of high school?”

  “No, Pete transferred in our senior year. But we did literally crash into each other walking into the building the first morning of senior year—he accidentally bumped me, I dropped my books, he helped me pick them up and that was it, like a movie,” Jessie couldn’t help smiling as she recalled the slapstick meeting.

  “We were together from then on,” she continued. “That first day made it seem like kismet because we somehow ended up in five out of six classes together. Not to mention lunch—Pete was an outgoing kind of guy and he just came over to the table where I was sitting with the whole
group of my friends, made a joke that had us all laughing, then asked if the new kid could join us, and we even had lunch together. That was Pete—he was funny and a flirt right from the start, and… Well, I know people say it all the time, but being with each other came so easily, so comfortably, that it was as if we were meant for each other.”

  She didn’t want to think about the fact that she felt much the same way with Flint. That sitting there, with her legs in his lap, seemed as natural as everything had with Pete.

  “By the time we graduated neither of us wanted anything as much as to get married. So we made that our first goal—my engagement ring was my graduation gift, we set a date and—”

  “College, or art school,” he said pointedly, referring to their conversation the other night, “weren’t high on your to-do list anyway, so you just got your life started. Even though you were both really young…”

  “Right. But you know how it is, you feel like you’re all grown up.”

  “I do know how it is,” he said and she knew he was thinking about himself, about getting out on his own at that early age, too.

  “Pete’s dad was an electrician,” Jesse went on. “He helped Pete get an apprentice position that didn’t pay much, but gave him training and experience to go along with the night classes he took at a trade school. His dad also got me a job in the office of the construction company he worked for.”

  “Was this the same construction company you were both working for when…”

  “Yes. Pete’s dad had retired by then, so he wasn’t working for them anymore, but Pete and I still were.”

  Flint nodded. “And the wedding?”

  “We were married the week after we both turned nineteen.”

  “You both turned nineteen at the same time?”

  “Our birthdays were three days apart.”

  “Wow, you really were two peas in a pod.”

  “Not completely, but we did have a lot in common. I told you, it was as if we were meant for each other.”

  “So you got married at nineteen…” Flint said to keep her going.