by Vella, Wendy
The place had a roaring open fire, a rustic look, and enough Green Bay Packers paraphernalia on the walls to hurt his eyes.
“It’s luau night,” Jake said, slipping in beside his girl.
“You kidding me?”
“You’ve been to some of the other themed nights before, Tex. What’s the problem here?”
“The problem, Jake, is that my beer has pineapple in it.”
Before he could react, his friend whipped it from his hand, put his fingers into the beer and fished out the pineapple, then handed it back.
“Better now?”
“You been tested lately?”
“Nope.”
Ethan just rolled his eyes and took a mouthful. “All this shit is making me itch.”
“Only team that matters here in Howling."
“What's with that anyway, shouldn't you guys be following the Seahawks?"
"Howlers have always followed Packers, ever since one of the Harris family played for them in the thirties. He blew out a knee in the warm up and never played another game, but we've backed them ever since."
"So on the strength of that you people follow the Packers." Ethan shook his head. "Small towns are just plain weird."
"Those Longhorns are amateurs by comparison.”
Take that back, McBride, or I’ll gut you.”
Ethan and Jake had pretty much gone at each other like this since the day they’d met each other in Iraq.
“So you reckon Annabelle sold her car because she had to?”
The question was from Branna, who had been interrogating Ethan about Annabelle’s actions since he arrived.
“We’ve had this conversation, Irish. I don’t know, but it’s my hunch she did.”
“She’s proud, that one, and if I say anything she’d fire up at me and you, Jake.” Branna took a sip of her pink cocktail.
“Then don’t say anything, and let it play out. You see her all the time. You’ll know if something’s wrong.” Ethan thought he sounded reasonable, but Branna still scoffed.
“Annabelle Smith can hide her feelings better than anyone I know. Seriously, she’s like an armadillo.”
“Fancy armadillos being able to hide their feelings. I’d always thought of them as an open, sharing sort of creature.”
“It’s a shock to me,” Jake said, looking around the room.
Branna rolled her eyes. “The point here is that Annabelle will never show how she’s feeling, and you’d need a crowbar to get any information out of her.”
“Just watch her, Rosebud. You’ll know if something’s up sooner or later,” Jake added.
“How long’s her uncle been gone?” Ethan wanted to know more about Miss Annabelle Smith, and there was no one better to ask than these two.
“He died the year after I left, didn’t he, Jake?” Branna said. “And that left Belle at eighteen to look after her younger brothers.”
Jake nodded. “Yup, Gerry Black died where he lived his life, at the gambling table in Lincoln City. His heart gave out. Supposedly he was on a winning streak and the excitement was too much.”
“Must have been hard.” Ethan thought about Annabelle. Had she been all alone with her two brothers after Gerry Black’s death?
“It was because there was no other family. Annabelle took a job in reception in Mom’s clinic right after she graduated, and stayed there until her brothers were ready to leave school. When Cooper went away to college, she arranged for Zach to move in with Walt and Elizabeth Heath, and Annabelle then went away to learn to be a nurse.”
“How did she survive financially?”
Jake looked at Branna and then Ethan before answering.
“That I don’t know. She refused help, but of course it came anyway by way of groceries and other things. For the most part she kept that family afloat, and I have no idea how, considering she didn’t earn a lot working at the clinic.”
Ethan thought about that as he watched the dance floor. How had she survived? What had she done to earn the money she needed to help her brothers?
“So how do you think she did it?”
“She wouldn’t have done anything underhanded or illegal. For all that she talks big, she has the soul of a puritan, and I’ve never known her to break the law,” Branna said. “She once told me that her uncle had cured her of lawbreaking. Apparently Gerry Black liked to walk the wrong side of it for most of his life.”
“So what’s her history?”
“Her dad left and her mother died when she was young. I don’t know the details, but Gerry was a loser from what Dad tells me,” Jake said. “Which probably means that Annabelle raised her brothers for a lot longer than any of us realize.”
“Pride,” Branna said. “She never wants anyone to see any weakness, never wants to be beholden to anyone.”
“Yeah, we’ve all gone a few rounds with her about that,” Jake added.
“How so?” Ethan asked.
“You’re asking a lot of questions about her, Tex. I wonder why that is?”
“What can I say? She intrigues me.” Ethan shrugged.
“I found out that she couldn’t pay her electric bill and get Zach to his interview with the Navy, so I booked his flight from Brook and went over there and handed her the ticket.”
Ethan whistled.
“Yeah, it wasn’t pretty, but my jaw was only swollen for a week, then we were friends again, but only after we’d worked out a repayment plan.”
Ethan watched an elderly couple dance in perfect harmony around the floor as he thought about what Jake had said. He was sure now that Annabelle’s selling the car had been a direct result of the conversation he’d overheard. He just wasn’t sure who it had been with and why, but for now he would keep those thoughts to himself.
“Who knew Mr. Heath had the moves?” Jake was watching them too. “And Mrs. Heath is no slug, either.”
“Hey, all.”
Ethan felt his body tense as Buster Griffin and Annabelle Smith appeared beside their table. He hadn’t seen her walk in and was pleased they’d stopped discussing her. He could only imagine how she’d react if she’d heard them.
“You seen the Heaths?” Jake motioned towards the floor again.
Her long legs were encased in black leggings and Ethan could tell she was wearing heels because she looked taller. Her hair was a mass of curls all over the place. Her top was hot pink, which had to be a favorite color of hers because he’d seen her in it a time or two. It left her shoulders and lower arms bare and was fitted everywhere else, and settled just above her hipbones. Dragging his eyes from her breasts before she caught him staring and blackened both his eyes, he made himself look at the floor again.
He could still taste her on his lips, had done so all day, and the hell of it was that he wanted to taste her again, all of her. Of course, chances were if he tried, he’d walk away a eunuch.
“Sure I know they can dance. Doesn’t everyone?” Annabelle looked at Buster as she spoke; he nodded in turn.
“What?” Jake looked at his friends as Buster sat, leaving Annabelle only one choice, the seat next to him.
“You don’t know about Walt and Lizzie?” Branna looked surprised. “Is there actually something in Howling that I know and you don’t?”
“What about them?” Jake said. “And some of us are not on the Walt and Lizzie first-name basis, since we’re not in the book club. They’re still Mr. and Mrs. to me and Buster.”
Branna laughed. “This is a moment that should be documented.”
“Mrs. Heath danced with the Rockettes and Mr. Heath for the New York City Ballet Company,” Annabelle said, taking pity on Jake. “They met through that.”
“You’re shitting me.”
Ethan laughed at the look of shock on his friend’s face.
“It’s true. They have a studio in their house that they dance in, and it’s full of trophies and awards.”
Jake looked stunned. “How come I don’t know that?”
“If it helps,
I’m pretty stunned myself,” Buster said.
Buster Griffin gave his friend a smile of sorts. He owned the local café and for all that his business revolved around service, he wasn’t what you’d call friendly or talkative. Solidly built, with short hair, he had soft green eyes with long, curling lashes and was a man of few words but a big heart that he tried to keep hidden.
“At least I’m not the only one, then,” Jake added.
“Have to say it doesn’t cut me up as much as you though, bud.” Buster said.
“I’m not cut up, just shocked that I didn’t know. I wonder if Mom and Dad know?” Jake looked at Branna.
“Your mother does. We’ve met at Lizzie’s with the book club, and she’s seen the dance room.”
“We’re gonna have words, her and I. I’m her favorite son and she kept that from me.”
“Her only son,” Branna added.
All eyes were back on the floor, watching as the Heaths got their groove on to some rock ’n’ roll.
“It’s a mystery, as you seem to know everything else,” Buster said, then took a long swallow from his bottle. Ethan realized he’d gone for the bottle to avoid the pineapple. That might be a better option next time.
“How come you know?” Jake looked accusingly at Annabelle.
“Zach lived with them off and on when I went away to study nursing, you idiot. They taught all of us to dance.”
“I can’t take much more of these surprises.” Muttering under his breath, Jake got to his feet and took Branna’s hand. “Come on. I want to see this up close.”
“You can dance?” Ethan said, looking at Annabelle.
“Better than you,” she said, glaring at him.
“Now, how do you know that?”
She flicked her hand his way. “Just a guess, but I’m sure it’s accurate.”
“Them’s fighting words, woman.” Ethan got to his feet and pulled her out of the seat before she could stop him, then towed her towards the floor.
“There’s no lines, Tomcat. How will you cope?”
Ignoring the taunt at his Texan roots, he answered by grabbing her hand and spinning her away from him and back again. She did the move with ease.
“Don’t tell me you can dance without counting?”
“I’m Texan,” Ethan shrugged as he spun her again.
“What does that mean, ‘I’m Texan’?”
“It means we’re superior.”
“The only thing you’ve got that’s superior is that monumental ego.”
She moved in one fluid motion, and Ethan, whose mother had insisted he take dance lessons since he was old enough to walk, thought he managed to keep up quite well. She was avoiding his eyes, looking everywhere but at him, and he was avoiding everywhere else but her.
“I want to dance with a man who really knows how to move, Lizzie. Care to swap?”
Before Ethan could say anything, Annabelle had changed partners with Mrs. Heath.
“Well, now, boy, you know how to dance?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ethan said, smiling down at the sweet lady now in his arms. “My mother made me take lessons.”
“Well, then, let’s see what you can do.”
Annabelle tried to concentrate on Walt, but her eyes kept going to Ethan and Lizzie. He moved well; in fact, he was good, not that she’d tell him that. He had on another pair of jeans, this pair newer, and a collared shirt in blue that matched his eyes. On his big feet he was wearing his favorite cowboy boots.
“Had a few conversations with Ethan Gelderman in The Hoot, Annabelle. Nice man, intelligent, articulate. You should snap him up, girl.”
“We sort of rub each other the wrong way, Walt.” She looked down into the kind face of the man who had been more a father to her than anyone else in her life.
“Did Lizzie ever tell you that when we met, she told me I was a smart ass, and that she didn’t like people who were self-indulgent?”
Annabelle shot a look to the little lady being spun around the room by Ethan. Neat as a pin, Elizabeth Heath had the kindest heart of anyone she knew, and rarely was she seen with a hair out of place.
“Lizzie said that to you?”
Walt laughed, then shook his head, causing his snow-white hair to flutter. “I was self-indulgent, Annabelle. She was right, but I realized one thing that day: I wanted that little lady and I knew to get her I needed to change.”
Walt spun her into two turns. “You saying I need to change, Walt?” Annabelle said when she was facing him again.
“I’m saying you’re independent and strong, Annabelle Smith, but you’re also a woman meant to have a mate. Someone to share your life with, and God willing, give you children. Don’t let your past stop you from living your future, girl, that’s what I’m getting at in a roundabout way. I knew Lizzie was for me, but I could have walked away from the challenge, but in doing so I would have missed out on the love of my life.”
“Oh, Walt, that’s so sweet,” Annabelle sniffled. She’d like to come across a woman who wouldn’t when faced with words like the ones he had just spoken.
“Don’t shut the door on something, girl, before you’re sure it’s not for you.”
Annabelle planted a loud kiss on Walt’s cheek. “Promise.” When hell freezes over will I consider Ethan Gelderman the Fifth, she added silently.
“Stop hogging all the hot women, Mr. Heath.”
Buster stepped in as Walt turned and took Branna into his arms. Annabelle heard him ask how his favorite Irish girl was doing.
“Buster, you can’t dance this stuff and you know it.”
“Can too.”
She laughed through the next two dances as he attempted to move with her as she instructed him. This was her little piece of the world, right here with her friends. Yes, she had problems, but right here and now she was home, safe and secure, surrounded by the people who loved her.
“You paid them to do this!” The music changed to soft rock, and Buster exhaled and took a step back and started to dance freestyle. Just as in every other aspect of his life, he didn’t display any excessive movements, just nice and contained—but he had rhythm. She’d give him that.
“I have no idea what you mean, Annabelle.” Buster gave her what constituted a smile in his world. “I can’t help it if Mandy, the lead singer, likes my caramel cream muffins.”
“You making the sauce for the ribs again this year?” Annabelle said as she danced around him.
“As I’ve made it every year for the last five, I’m thinking probably.”
The annual last cookout for the season was tomorrow, down by the lake. There was always plenty of food, but Buster’s ribs were the best. They played ball, laughed, and the entire town turned out to have fun before they hunkered down for the winter.
“Pull that stick out of your ass, Griffin. I was just checking.”
“You making the sweet potato salad, Smith?”
“Yes, Buster, and no, you can’t have the recipe.” She kept her eyes on her dance partner as Ethan danced behind him. “What’s with you, anyway, all secretive with your own recipes but feel it’s your right to have everyone else’s?”
“I’m doing a civic duty here, Annabelle. I feed the masses.” He tapped his chest. “You all should want to help me with that.”
“Idiot.” She danced and laughed. One minute she was with Jake, the next Branna was twirling in front of her, and the next she was in front of Ethan again.
“You ever tire, Smith?” Ethan asked.
“Not when I’m dancing. The pace too hot for you, Tex?”
He wasn’t sweating like some of the others on the dance floor; his eyes were bright and he wore a sexy smile.
“Honey, any pace you set I’m up for.”
“Women seriously don’t fall for that BS, do they?”
“It’s a natural, God-given talent, sweet cheeks. What can I say, we Texans are just born smooth.”
“I bet you struggle to fit that ego under a Stetson,” Annabelle said. Sh
e was enjoying sparring with him way more than she should.
He moved in to her until their bodies brushed. His smile was pure wolf.
“I’ve had no complaints about my…ego fitting anywhere so far, Annabelle.”
She managed a hoot of laugher that was pretty good, considering that all the spit in her mouth had dried up because they both knew that it wasn’t his ego they were discussing now. “It’s no concern to me where your”—Annabelle waggled her little finger—“ego fits, Tex.”
“Now that’s a shame.” He gave her another slow smile, then took a step backwards as the music stopped and ran his eyes down her body. “Because I think it would fit just perfect in—”
“Don’t say it!” Annabelle cried as the heat that had started in her breasts was making them tingle before it traveled down to settle between her thighs. “I’m not ever going to know how your ego fits!”
“Now, here’s another thing you should know about Texans, Annabelle. We love a challenge, and when said challenge comes with a body like yours it makes it doubly hard to resist.”
Annabelle had a sudden feeling she was out of her depth with the man before her. When other men flirted or spoke dirty with her, she was able to brush them aside, but the difference here was that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. Damn, she should never have responded to his kisses today, but she had, and now she needed to retreat.
“I’m thirsty.” Walking away from him, she didn’t look back, because if she did she was certain she would see the smile of a man who knew he’d won that round.
CHAPTER FIVE
“I love and hate this event,” Annabelle said as she, Buster and Newman made their way across the grass to join their friends at the annual cookout. “It signals the end of the warm weather and the beginning of freezing our butts off and shoveling our sidewalks.”
“But I love that everyone gets to eat and spend time together,” Newman added when she’d finished talking. “I like seeing everyone here together, kids, parents. It’s cool, you know.”
“Yeah, and the colder weather’s really good for business,” Buster said.
She’d known these two men, both of them big and solid, since she’d started school. Buster Griffin owned the Hoot Café, and was an intimidating man to those who didn’t know him. His hair was always buzzed close to his head, his jaw was fierce and he had several tattoos. In her opinion the only thing that softened the man was his long, girly lashes.