She turned toward Ray more fully. “You remember back in the day. He loved racing. He loved driving a hot car, the speed, the smoke, the noise. He always talked about being one win away from the big one. But at some point it all went out of control and he used everything we had to try and haul in that big win, the one that would set things right. And of course, it never happened.” She shrugged. “What Alex showed me was that in order for me to keep my home, I’d have to sell the farmland. We went over it eight ways to Tuesday, and it came out the same each time. If we could sell the farmland I could settle Grandpa’s debts and have a bit tucked by. A small bit,” she added, emphatic.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” asked Ray, obviously concerned. “Maybe we could have helped.”
“A body don’t necessarily want the whole world to know what her man’s been doing,” Gran offered back, cryptic. She shot a look of understanding to Cress, a look that said they shared more than a tough-as-nails attitude. They shared a deep-seeded pride, but seeing her grandmother’s face, the pain of the confession, brought to light the dark side of a prideful nature. A little pride? That was all right, good even.
But to make things so all-fired important? She and Gran had both been wrong. In her case, almost dead wrong, but Gran’s revelation made her see something else. She’d assumed Alex’s guilt because she couldn’t trust herself. So who did she trust? No one? Not God, not man, not herself?
Gran interrupted her swirl of revelation. “I want the bad talk about Alex and what he’s done stopped once and for all. He’s never been anything but a friend to me, a good one. And about that parkland, young lady?” Gran turned Cress’s way more fully now, her posture saying that if Cress thought she was wrong before, watch out, because a big slice of humble pie was about to be dished her way.
“Yes?”
Gran handed over a typewritten page. “I went to see Dick Thompson this afternoon. We had a long talk. It seems the parkland was delayed because Grandpa let some old time businesses dump poisons up there, polluting the land. They paid him under the table and he turned his back on what they were doing in the dark of night. Alex found out about it when they tested the soil, so he’s spent the past two years getting everything in order to clean it up and fix it. Make things right. But he didn’t want me to know about it because he knew I’d be embarrassed. Again.”
Oh, man.
Cress dropped her head to her hands.
Could this get any worse? How on earth did she call herself a detective when all this drama went on around her and she had no clue? Because you didn’t come home, she reminded herself. Hadn’t Audra made note of that weeks ago?
And it was true. Cress had immersed herself in intentional obscurity while ignoring the here and the now of what Gran had handled the last ten years. Put another hash mark in the dunce column. At this rate, Nancy Drew was looking like a better detective than Cress Dietrich.
“Now hear this.” Gran moved forward, put the flat of her hands firm on the table, and made eye contact with each and every one of them in turn. “I have every intention of licking this cancer thing. I’m too feisty and have too much to do to spend the next decade or two lyin’ in a box. I plan to see at least some of my great-grandchildren get baptized,” she sent a dagger sharp look to Cress and Audra in turn, “and I refuse to leave this planet with my house unpainted and these drafty old windows in place. So now you know my goals.” She straightened, sent them a no-nonsense look and crossed her arms firm across her chest. “What about yours?”
Audra stood first. “I’m making a list tonight, Gran. One thing on the list will be to get financing for that new addition for the quilt shop. The man thing?” She rounded the table and gave Gran a big hug. “That’s gonna take some doing.”
Ray swiped a hand across his face, then hugged his mother-in-law. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that. And sorrier yet that I didn’t realize how bad things got.”
She nodded, chin firm, her face resolute. “I didn’t want you knowing. I’m a private person, leastways I was. But now that we all know, I can rest easy that people aren’t thinking ill of Alex. Never was a nicer man born on this earth, and to think people doubt him or suspect him. Well.” She huffed and sent a look at Cress. “That was as much my fault as anyone’s. I’m ashamed I let it go on as long as I did.”
Cress stood, trying to figure out a way where she wouldn’t have to grovel at Alex’s door, to beg his forgiveness. A forgiveness that most likely wouldn’t be forthcoming.
She’d hurt him. Hurt him bad. She’d seen it in his face, his eyes, his posture. Doubting him, mistrusting him, she’d put a knife in him, heart and soul, and there was no easy way to fix either.
But she had to try, at least to the point of gaining forgiveness. She didn’t harbor princess dreams of glass slippers and happily ever-afters, not after treating him like she did, so soon after he’d gone the distance for her in Minneapolis. What kind of person was she, anyway? So quick to draw a conclusion, to make judgment. Hadn’t she felt his warmth, his sincerity?
Yes, but her personal life hadn’t been exactly well run these past few years. She was a country song gone amok, a parody of normalcy.
She hugged Gran, grabbed her keys and headed out the door. She knew she didn’t have to say a word. Everyone in that house knew exactly where she was going.
Chapter Nineteen
Twilight shadows hinted the change of seasons as Cress pulled into Alex’s stone drive for the second time that day, only this time she saw the beautiful home for what it was, a labor of love. The cedar and stone dwelling rose in its woodland setting as though born to it, the brown/gray of the evening tree bark reflected in the wood siding, the shadowed windows. Hints of pink, puce and purple marbled the west-facing glass, a cirrus cloud sunset rainbow melding into the dark metal trim.
Beautiful.
Cress sighed, climbed out of the car, and looked around.
Alex’s SUV was parked out back. She gnawed her lip, heaved another breath, scolded herself inwardly for being a complete wuss and climbed the stone steps leading to the door, her heart racing, palms sweating. Who knew a simple apology required this much frenetic energy?
“What do you want, Cress?”
Cress turned, startled. Alex moved forward from behind the house, much like he had that morning, only this time there was no warm smile, no look of invitation. He’d lost the tool belt, but he had the look of a man who’d been hard at work all day. She hesitated, breathed deep and sighed. “I came to apologize.”
He didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t nod.
“I was wrong this morning.” She moved forward, hands twining, tripping over her words. “I jumped to conclusions and I didn’t give you a chance to explain.” She paused, then backtracked. “Well, I did, but you wouldn’t explain, and now I know you couldn’t explain, but I didn’t know that then and I assumed things I shouldn’t have. I was wrong, Alex. Forgive me? Please?”
He weighed her words, her stance, her voice and decided maybe she hadn’t suffered quite enough. “No.”
“No?” Her chin snapped up in typical Cress fashion and he watched her work to control the out-of-the-gate reaction. She breathed deep, her chest rising and falling, her eyes softening in resignation. “Okay.” She nodded, awkward, then glanced around. “Well.” She backed up a step, turned, took three steps, then swung back around. “Um, are you really sure about that? You know, the whole ‘not forgiving me’ thing, because you really might want to re-think it.”
A tiny hint of humor tweaked him. “Really?”
She nodded, earnest, and came back his way. “Yes. Imagine how awkward it will be if I stay in town, work for the sheriff or the state troopers, living right here underneath your nose where we’re bound to run into each other all the time.”
He angled his head as if considering her argument. “Go on.”
“How much easier would it be,” she waved a hand around, indicating the house, the woods, the land, “to just marry me, hav
e me around here all the time, stacking firewood, having babies, cooking steaks on the grill.”
Alex moved a step forward, his expression still unreadable. “You actually think being married to you might make my life easier, Crescent?”
She moved another step his way as well. “I think it would be way easier than being apart, Alex. Passing each other in the street. I mean, at least if we’re married we can find umm…” she wrinkled her face as though choosing her words with care, “things to do that don’t include fighting.”
“You think?” He stepped closer, close enough to see the look in her eyes, the apology that asked forgiveness for being wrong, being presumptuous. He paused as if weighing her proposal, head cocked, eyes narrowed. “Come with me.”
Grabbing her hand he led her across the deck, down the back stairs, and over to the carriage house styled barn beyond. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth twice while Cress looked on, puzzled.
Brandywood clopped out of the picturesque barn, his big, beautiful head nodding an easy rhythm as if he’d come home at last. He moved over to the fence rail, nickered a greeting to Cress, then rubbed his head along Alex’s upper arm.
“How did you get him?”
Alex shrugged, looking way too sure of himself for his own good. “Bought him.”
“You… bought him?” She moved around Alex, the wheels turning, then swung back after giving Brandy a nice, long neck rub. “You bought him from Audra today?”
“Yup.”
“This afternoon?”
“Yes.”
“And brought him here?”
“I think that one’s self-evident.”
“Why?” She invaded his space, her jaw firm, her stance tough. “Did you want to punish me? Show me who’s boss? Take the horse so I couldn’t work with him anymore?”
Alex dropped his arms around her and tugged her close, keeping his voice and manner most serious. “It’s quite possible you’re jumping to conclusions again, Cress.”
“I—”
“Now what other reason, a very nice reason, I might add, would I have for buying your horse and bringing him to the very pretty, family-friendly home I just built on a nice quiet country road?”
“Uh…”
He tugged her closer. “You can do better than that, Crescent. I might just remind you that a steady diet of crow and humble pie isn’t the best tasting combination in the world. Especially for a woman who likes seafood the way you do.” He gazed into her eyes, his expression firm, unwavering, his grip tight. “You starting to get this, Cress? Really get this?”
“You love me.”
He grinned and touched his mouth to hers, a feathered kiss of whispered affection. “Finally. Dear Lord, you’re one stubborn woman.”
She nodded, half afraid to speak, to break the bubble of the moment, the feel of Alex’s arms, his mouth, the scent of cotton, horse and man rolled into one delicious fragrance, total Midwestern guy. “I know.”
He settled his arms around her waist, his hands resting lightly on her hips. “Will you marry me, Cress? Grow old with me? Have a bunch of sweet babies that drive us both crazy and turn us gray before our time? Delight our mothers with the prospect of grandchildren?” He lowered his mouth, catching hers in a long, drawn out kiss, his firm, gentle grip offering her a beautiful new choice. “I love you, Cress. Say yes, okay? Because it’s getting cold out here and I’ve got a nice fire going inside.”
She smiled. “You knew I’d come back?”
He burst out laughing, cradling her face. “I could say that’s why I started the fire, but the truth is they don’t turn on the heat until after Monday’s building code inspection, and it was just downright cold in there. But I could pretend I knew you’d come back. Make like I planned the whole thing.”
She leaned back against his looped hands and shook her head, totally content. “Nope. That’s what makes this so special, so nice, so…” she shrugged and brought her gaze back up to him. “So right. We don’t have to pretend with each other. I love that.”
“And me?” He dipped his chin for another kiss, his gentle warmth enveloping her. “You love me, Cress? Just the way I am?”
She grabbed his cheeks, kissed him soundly, hugged him, then waved a hand, startling the poor horse. “Let’s see…” She ticked off her fingers. “Sweet, kind, to-die-for-gorgeous, rich, buff and trustworthy.” She laughed up at him. “What’s not to love?”
“Don’t forget kind to old ladies.”
Her face softened. She stroked a soft hand against his beard-shadowed face, the nubby whiskers totally male against her skin. “I’ll never forget how kind you are to old ladies, Alex.” She stretched up and kissed his mouth, a pledge of a kiss, an ever-after beginning. “I love you, Alex Westmore. And yes…” she kissed him again, a little deeper this time, a little slower… longer…. “I’ll be proud to marry you. Be your wife. Have your babies.”
He paused the kiss, dropped his forehead to hers and stifled a groan. “Soon? Real soon? And before you say anything, the answer to that would be ‘yes’.”
She laughed, understanding. “How fast do you think we can put together a wedding?”
“Twice as fast with my mother helping,” Alex declared. He rubbed his chin against her cheek, her hair, then tugged her toward the stairs, nodding toward the changing leaves. “I think fall’s a great time for a wedding, don’t you, Detective?”
She laughed and let him lead her to the house, the house that would be their home before too long. “I love fall weddings.”
“Well, then.” He turned at the door, scooped Cress up, off her feet, and carried her through the door, firelight shadows flickering gold/orange tongues of warmth off the shadowed walls. “Welcome home, Mrs. Westmore. Welcome home.”
Epilogue
“I’m wearin’ the wig,” Gran insisted. She reached out and tugged the wig from the stand sitting atop the glossed yellow bathroom cabinet. “It’s no good goin’ to a wedding bald and you know it.”
“Whereas I’d say it’s good to be alive to attend the wedding and leave it at that,” Cress scolded as Stacey laced the corset-styled gown up the back. “You hate the wig, it makes your head feel funny. You said so yourself. Use the rose-colored hat, Gran. It’s perfect on you.”
“Sylvie wears rose to everything. If I wear that then I’ll look like I’m trying to be like her. Rose is her color. Not mine.”
“Heaven save us from competitive sisters,” muttered Stacey as she checked Cress’s hair and dress one more time. “Norma, have a look at that bag I brought. See what you think.”
Audra moved across the room, her maid-of-honor gown swishing a whisper in the air. She opened the bag, then smiled as she handed the small sack to her grandmother. “Check this out.”
“Well.” Norma reached in and withdrew a cotton-knit cloche hat, soft as newborn flannel. “It’s soft enough, for sure.”
“And that shade of teal is exactly what you wore when I first met you,” Stacey reminded her. “That dress with the wide white lapels—”
“It was my favorite for years,” Gran admitted.
“I know. So I thought this hat might be perfect for today. It’s even got a rosette on the side, just enough fancy to suit the occasion.”
Gran held the new hat as if wondering what to say, but then she did something totally out of the norm. She held the hat out to Stacey and indicated the mirror with a nod. “Can you help me put it on? Please?”
“Glad to.” Stacey crossed the wide hall, stepped behind Norma and bent low. She took the knitted hat and slid it gently onto Gran’s head, adjusting the angle and edges just so. “Okay. Moment of truth. What do you think?”
Gran’s eyes met Stacey’s in the mirror, and Cress’s heart twisted as they exchanged looks. It should have been Carol Anne in the mirror, helping her daughters, guiding her mother.
Through no fault of her own she was gone, but as Gran met Stacey’s eyes, her face showed the mix of emotions held in for too lo
ng. She blinked, reached up a hand to cover Stacey’s on her shoulder and nodded approval. “I think it’s perfect.”
Stacey read the sentiment, the acceptance and the offer of unspoken affection with her every day ease. “I agree.” She reached down and planted a kiss on Gran’s cheek, saying nothing about what was missing from the image because the current picture was doing all right. At last. Then she re-directed her attention to Cress. “Are you ready, bride?”
“I am.”
“You’re not packing heat today, are you?” Audra skimmed the a-line skirting of Cress’s gown and arched a brow. “Please say no.”
“I’m not, but only because weapon retrieval is impossible while wearing a gown. But my cop friends will all be carrying, so we’re good.”
“Cress? It’s getting late.” Her father’s voice called from the first floor. “Cars are warmed up and waiting, ladies. Let’s go.”
She walked down the stairs behind Stacey, facing a moment she hadn’t thought possible. A wedding, her wedding— her father walking her down the aisle, lifting her veil— and Alex waiting for her in front of the altar, tall and strong, ready to love, honor and cherish her.
Her father’s expression softened. He breathed hard, then reached out and hugged her, careful not to mess with her hair, her veil. She hugged him back, the feel of family surrounding her, anointing her, bothering her, a new part of her day-to-day.
And she loved every single crazy minute of it.
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