At Long Last, a Bride

by Susan Crosby

  Why the hell hadn’t they gone somewhere else? Why flaunt it?

  It hurt. He hadn’t expected it to hurt this much.

  “I’m glad you’re back,” Joe said to Donovan and Laura, then he left, his gut filled with the fire of jealousy. He recognized it for what it was, couldn’t control it. Could only hope he would get over it with time and distance.

  For now, there were places he could go, people he could see….

  He went home.

  A car was parked in front of his house. He saw someone inside the battered, unfamiliar vehicle. He pulled into his driveway. As he opened his door, a woman climbed out of the car.

  “Hi, Joe,” she said. She walked around the car and onto the sidewalk. In her arms was a bundle she tucked close. “This is Emma.”

  “Sorry we’re late!” Sheryl said, rushing up to Dixie at the Stompin’ Grounds.

  “My fault, totally,” Nancy added. “Next round’s on me. We’ll go get a pitcher.”

  Dixie was in no mood to stay. Donovan and Laura had left a minute after Joe. Jake and Keri were dancing, but looked like they should find a bed somewhere. Kincaid was off ordering a hamburger rather than waiting for the waitress to show up.

  Dixie didn’t know what to do about him. She hadn’t told him she would be here, but almost everyone in town knew she came most Saturday nights, so it wasn’t a stretch for him to come by if he was looking for her.

  Her new life wasn’t starting off as well as she’d anticipated. She shouldn’t even be here tonight, she had so much work to do. Most importantly, she had to get her apartment in order tomorrow, before the workweek started. Without a settled home base in place, her life would be chaotic.

  Sheryl and Nancy would help, but she also needed a truck to carry her furniture from Joe’s house—the bedroom set from the guest room that had been hers from high school, her great-grandmother’s rocking chair, a small desk. The china cabinet. She could buy new, but these were pieces with sentimental value—sentiments that wouldn’t matter to Joe. Maybe he even wanted to get rid of everything. She hadn’t asked him where he planned to live.

  She wished he hadn’t taken off, wasn’t sure why he had, except that she could tell he’d been surprised by the news she was helping her parents. Maybe even disgusted with her for agreeing?

  She wanted to assure him that she was a different woman now. That her parents wouldn’t get to her the way they used to. Wouldn’t make her feel guilty for spending less time with them than she had with the McCoys.

  Dixie might as well be an only child. She knew her parents expected more of her because she’d never left Chance City, unlike her brother and sister. Her parents depended on her. Leaned on her. She’d allowed it for a long time.

  “Sure you’re not hungry?” Kincaid asked, setting his plate on the table, along with a big basket of fries.

  And why was he sitting down as if she’d invited him?

  Sheryl and Nancy would be thrilled, however. They’d talked about him before, wondered why he never was seen around town in the evening. Not that there was a lot of nightlife beyond the diner….

  Kincaid nudged the fries a little closer.

  “I’m okay, thanks,” she said, although they did smell delicious. And maybe she was just a little hungry. But now that she’d turned him down, how could she grab some?

  “Band’s good,” he said.

  She nodded. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before.”

  “I saw your car in the parking lot and took a chance. Now I see what I’ve been missing.”

  Was it as simple as that? He was a smart man, one who calculated potential success for every project he got involved with. Was she his new project?

  She moved away from him a little, uncertain.

  He lifted his burger, eyed her, then said, “I’ll eat and run.”

  She felt guilty. No one liked to eat alone. “It’s fine, really. If you don’t mind sharing the table with Sheryl and Nancy.” She watched them make their way back, their hands full.

  Redheaded Nancy grinned. “Well, hey, Kincaid. Fancy meeting you here.”

  “Hi, Nancy. Sheryl, how’re you?”

  If he was disappointed he wasn’t going to be alone with Dixie, he didn’t show it. Every so often, his shoulder bumped hers, or his foot under the table, but the space was crowded. And she finally did snag a few fries. He didn’t say anything, didn’t even tease her, as most people would.

  When the table was cleared, she expected him to leave. Instead he invited her to dance. He was a good dancer. She’d learned that at the wedding. There was no reason not to, except that Jake and Keri were still there and would see.

  So?

  Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket before she could answer either Kincaid or her conscience. Joe. Now what? She wished she could just ignore it.

  “I need to take this call,” she said, pressing the talk button and heading to the door at the same time. “Hold on. I’ll be in the parking lot in a second,” she said into the phone. As soon as the door closed behind her, she said hello.

  “You need to come to the house,” he said. “Now.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “You’ll see. No one’s hurt, Dix. Don’t speed. But you need to come.”

  “All right.” She clenched the phone and went inside to make her apologies. Kincaid followed her to her car.

  “You’re upset,” he said. “I could drive you. Get someone to take your car home.”

  “He said no one was hurt. I’m more curious than worried.” Which wasn’t entirely true. He wouldn’t call her about something that wasn’t major.

  Kincaid put a hand on her arm before she started the engine. “Look, Dixie. I know this is a transition time for you. Everyone is talking about it,” he added when she frowned. “I haven’t been prying, but one meal at the Lode is all it took. All I’m saying is, I’m not a McCoy, I’m a good listener and I want to be your friend. So, call me, night or day, if you need to, okay?”

  “Yeah. Thanks. I have to go.”

  He backed away. The ten-minute drive to her—Joe’s—house seemed to take an hour. She parked behind a car she didn’t recognize, rushed up the walkway. The door opened before she could knock. Joe stood there, but he moved aside.

  Dixie’s heart slammed into her ribs. “Shana,” she said. Her kid sister, who’d run away almost eleven years ago.

  “Hey, Dix.” She had the same smile, but set in a much-too-gaunt face.

  A sound intruded. A baby crying. Shana moved to pick up the swaddled bundle on the sofa, nestled by pillows on all sides.

  “This is Emma. My daughter.”

  Chapter Five

  “I can stay at my mom’s,” Joe said to Dixie an hour later. “You can take my room.”

  He’d gone to the Lode, picked up some vegetable soup, homemade bread and apple pie for Shana. He hadn’t seen a person devour food like that, as if she hadn’t eaten for a week, then she’d fallen asleep sitting at the table.

  Dixie had eased her into bed in the guest room, set up the porta-crib they kept stowed in the laundry room and put the four-month-old to bed, too. Joe had gone out to Shana’s car and brought in her belongings, which weren’t much.

  “I appreciate the offer, Joe,” Dixie said, “but I’ll sleep on the couch, if you don’t mind. If you want to stay at your mom’s anyway, I understand, but you don’t need to give up your room. I’ll take care of everything tomorrow. It’ll only be for tonight.”

  “She looks bad, Dix.”

  Dixie nodded, her eyes tearing up. “She’s been through some kind of hell.” She reached for his hand and squeezed. “Thank you for everything.”

  He didn’t let go, wanting to hold her, wanting to take care of her, as natural a thing as breathing. “I’ll be going out of town tomorrow. She can stay. You both can stay for a few days, if you want.”

  “For once, her timing is perfect.” She let go and then sat on the couch, her hands clenched. “With Mom and Dad having
left this morning, their house is available.”

  He sat on the couch, too, a few feet away. “You’re going to ask their permission first, right?” Shana was the black sheep, the ungrateful daughter. Joe didn’t think Bea and Malcolm would be pleased to have her stay at their house.

  “If I ask them, they’ll come home.”

  “Isn’t that the point? Shouldn’t they have that option? They haven’t seen or talked to her, either.”

  “I think Shana would just take off again, right away. I’m going to try to convince her to stay long enough to see Mom and Dad. But not yet, okay?” Dixie held his gaze. “You remember how Shana operates. She never lets her roots go deep. So, chances are, she’ll rest, get some good food in her, sweet-talk me into giving her some money and be gone again. I’ll get a Christmas card without a return address, as usual, but always postmarked from a new city.”

  “It’s your call. But don’t you think your parents’ neighbors will alert them?”

  “You know my mom and dad, Joe. No technology for them, even though it would save them a lot of time. So, no cell phone. They’ll be calling me, but that’s all.”

  “All right. But my mom would be happy to put them up. Mother them.”

  “I know, thanks. I need more information from Shana first. What if she’s involved in something criminal? What if she’s on the run? I can’t subject your mom to that possibility.”

  “Or yourself, Dix.”

  “She’s my sister.”

  Joe understood the familial bond, but he’d also never had to deal with a sibling gone wrong. All of his brothers and sisters lived in Chance City now. All were happily married with children. They helped each other out, however, no matter what the issue.

  He patted Dixie’s shoulder. “I’ll get some bedding for you.” Emotion swirled in him. He’d gone from jealous to angry to worried in a few heartbeats. He wouldn’t fall asleep for hours, probably, but would be stuck in his bedroom, killing time.

  “I won’t be able to sleep yet,” she said. “Unless you’ve moved things, I’ll get a pillow and blanket when I’m ready. I know where to find everything.” She looked out the window. “I’m wondering if we should move her car into the garage, out of sight. Is there space?”

  His truck was too big for the small garage attached to the eighty-year-old house, but Shana’s car would fit. “Good thinking. I’ll do it.”

  The cold night air felt good, the cranked-up heat in the house having become stifling. He drew in a deep breath, filled his lungs until he coughed. Shana had come to his house looking for Dixie, which meant she hadn’t known they’d split up a year ago. She’d been visibly shocked.

  “If you two can’t make it, who can?” she’d asked wearily.

  Good question. McCoys made it. That was about as close to a commandment as was possible, outside the Bible. No McCoy had divorced, ever, nor had a child out of wedlock, although there’d been some close calls.

  Joe moved the cars around, taking his time. He was in no hurry. Having Dixie here—just when he’d gotten used to her not being here—was harder than he’d ever imagined.

  “Dix?” he said when he finally went inside again, not seeing her.

  She came through the dining-room door, wiping her hands, apparently having been cleaning up the dishes.

  “I think we’ve got another problem,” he said. “Your car. I don’t think it should be out front overnight, either.” Because so much had happened during the evening, it seemed late, but it wasn’t even ten o’clock. Lots of people would drive by. Neighbors would notice.

  Dixie put a hand to her mouth. “You’re right. I’ll take it to Nana Mae’s and then walk back. I should tell her what’s going on, anyway.”

  “I’ll do it. Just give me your keys. You should be here if Shana wakes up—or the baby. I wouldn’t know what to do.”

  Dixie grinned, the sight unexpected. “You would, too. No man I know deals with babies as well as you. You’re Super Uncle. But I’ll accept your offer, thanks.” She dug into her pocket for her keys and passed them to him, their hands brushing. “You said you’re leaving town tomorrow. Where are you going?”

  “A little town near Burbank. I have a meeting with a group of city officials about how to start a community-compost business like I started here.” It would be his first flight. Hard to imagine that he was thirty years old and hadn’t flown anywhere before. “Can you believe it? People want to pay me to tell them how to make fertilizer.”

  “I can believe it,” she said, her smile soft. She hadn’t looked at him with tenderness for so long, he wasn’t sure how to react. He wanted to hold her, just hold her. To tuck his face into her neck, to feel her breasts and hips align with his. To kiss her—

  His body reacted to the image. He spun on his heel, headed to the door, but stopped there, his hand on the knob, his back to her. “I won’t be long. Is there anything else you think she might need?”

  “I’d say there’s plenty, but we’ll deal with it tomorrow. I should probably call Gavin…. No, not yet. I need to know more about what we’re dealing with first. My brother is a busy man.”

  “And you’re not busy?” She was always the first one to volunteer, the last one to leave after cleaning up. He’d learned to accept that about her, because it was part of who she was. But she had a whole lot on her plate these days.

  “She’s my sister, Joe. You’d do the same for one of yours.”

  “Yeah.” He couldn’t fault the argument. “Will Nana Mae be up or asleep, do you suppose?”

  “She’ll be up for another hour or so.”

  “Anything you need?”

  “A pair of pajamas from my dresser would be great.”

  He didn’t want to dwell on how personal that would be. He’d handled her clothes plenty of times. Her body, too.

  “I won’t be long.” Once again the cold air was a reprieve, as the trip tomorrow would be, too. His life had suddenly gone from predictable to unpredictable.

  He’d been looking for change in his life. It seemed he was about to get it.

  “She has the Callahan green eyes,” Dixie said, seated in her great-grandmother’s rocking chair and looking into her niece’s eyes as she sucked down a bottle of formula. She’d awakened the moment Joe had left.

  “Those are strong genes.” Shana tucked an afghan more tightly around herself as she sat on the sofa, watching. Dark circles under her eyes made her look haggard. “I know you’re curious, Dix. I’m not ready to talk yet.”

  “Just tell me this much. Are you on the run? Will someone be tracking you down? I need to know if you’re in some kind of danger, or us, for that matter, because that will change how things are handled.”

  “No. No cops, either.”

  Dixie relaxed. Emma smiled, formula pooling around her mouth. “She’s adorable.”

  “She deserves more than I can give her.”

  Joe came through the door before Dixie could respond to the statement. Was that why Shana had come? To drop off her baby, unable to care for her?

  He set a grocery sack next to the couch. “Nana Mae added a few more things she thought you might need. You didn’t sleep long,” Joe said to Shana as he headed to the fireplace.

  “Emma has her own schedule. After this feeding, she’ll be good until six tomorrow morning or so. I just told Dixie—you don’t have to worry about anything, where I’m concerned. I haven’t done anything criminal.”

  “Glad to hear that.”

  Shana bristled. “I’ve never been in any kind of serious trouble.”

  Although surprised at Joe’s parental tone, and fighting her instinct to defend her sister, Dixie decided to let him lead the conversation. He could probably get more out of Shana than she could. Shana had always adored him. In many ways he’d been more of a brother than Gavin had.

  “Doesn’t look like it to me,” Joe said, looking over his shoulder. “Seems like you haven’t done a good job of taking care of yourself, either.”

  “Well,
I was smart enough to get myself where I would be, wasn’t I?”

  Her words left a hollow sound in the air, an uncomfortable silence.

  “Why are you letting him talk to me that way?” Shana asked Dixie, her voice pitched high.

  Joe made a sound of frustration.

  “He’s being honest, Shana. Why would I interfere with that?” Dixie kept her tone even and her voice hushed as Emma’s eyes drifted shut. Her mouth went lax around the bottle’s nipple. Dixie moved her onto her shoulder and rubbed her back. Such a sweet little girl to be living a life of unknowns. “But you’re right, too. You’re here now, where you know people will be willing to help you, glad to help you. Don’t take advantage of that generosity.”

  Shana stared at the floor, her shoulders set, her jaw like marble. Finally, she nodded. “I need a shower. Is that okay? Do you mind watching Emma?”

  “I don’t mind at all.”

  Dixie continued to rock the baby. When the shower came on, she asked Joe what Nana Mae’s reaction was.

  “She remembers what Shana was like as a teenager. Did she open up about her life at all, what she’s been doing all these years?”

  “No. But that’s not surprising, is it? She always kept to herself.”

  “To her detriment. Do you think you can sleep now?” he asked.

  Light danced across his face from the fireplace flames. Such a good man. Such a very good man. He’d always shouldered everyone else’s burdens, particularly after his father died. And here he was again, taking on responsibilities that weren’t his. He must be pleased to be leaving, getting away from all those responsibilities.

  “Thank you,” she said, her voice shaky.

  “For what?”

  “For being you.” She didn’t want to continue the conversation, was afraid of undoing all she’d done to get over him. “I’ll put the baby down and change for bed in the guest room.”

  “It’d make me happier if you’d sleep in my bed.”