Peppermint-Maybe followed suit, wiping clean her burgundy lips, and planting a kiss in exactly the same spot as the Chocolate kiss. “For the first baby,” she said.
“And we’re going to learn to put the robot together ourselves.” Cotton-Candy-Perhaps.
Caramel-Definitely. “We’ve already started practicing. I even know which is the Allen wrench.”
His heart swelled, with the image of Simone carrying his child and the sweetness of the chickens. “Thank you, ladies.”
Rowena set her plate down, wiped at a mysterious moisture in her eyes, then clapped her hands. “Girls, go and put your lipstick back on now. You look positively naked.”
The chickens filed out just as Doodle scampered in. Followed by...damn. The stately woman entering on his heels was nothing less than a goddess. She had the ageless features and magnificent beauty of Sophia Loren. Her hair—a brilliant blend of silver shot through with black—was piled elegantly on top of her head, tiny wisps falling in curls about her forehead and temples.
This was Mrs. Doodle?
“She was a beauty queen in her younger days.” Rowena then dropped her voice to a whisper. “But we won’t mention how long ago that was.”
It didn’t matter how many years, the woman was gorgeous. Somehow, he knew Simone would retain that same ethereal quality.
“She dotes on Doodle.”
And had Simone write little snippets. Perhaps snippets were the secret to a happy marriage and a long life. He’d have to think up a few for Simone to write for him. One for each day of the week.
Mrs. Doodle stopped to speak with the sheriff’s wife, but Doodle scurried to Brax’s side.
“Son, son, it was a glorious service, wasn’t it?” Doodle clasped both Brax’s hands in his bony ones. “They buried Carl right next to Wyatt Earp.”
“Ya don’t say?”
“Well, they dug Wyatt up in the twenties and carted him off to Tombstone, but the ambience is still there. And free, too.”
Brax hadn’t forgotten about the free plot when he made arrangements for Carl, though Maggie had picked out the spot itself and the style of headstone. She had yet to decide on the inscription.
“How’s my Maggie girl?”
Brax smiled. His sister had so many people to care about her. “With all of you to look after her, Mr. Doodle, she’s going to be just fine.”
“Well, shit, ain’t that the nicest darn thing anybody ever said. Whitey wanted to come, but his editor called about that change he wanted to make to the dedication.”
“A change to the dedication?”
“Yeah, his new book. He’s gonna dedicate it to Carl. But there was some rigmarole he had to go through because the book had almost gone to print or something. Don’t know the technical terms. But I’m supposed to tell Maggie. Thought she came over here with you.”
“She did. She’s powdering her nose.” And pulling herself together. Maggie was strong. She’d make it.
Brax watched as Teesdale separated himself from his ladies and Doodle’s wife and made his way over.
“Braxton, got something to tell you.”
Mr. Doodle cupped his ear. “We’re waiting with bated breath, Sheriff.”
Teesdale looked down. “That’s why I’m telling Braxton here, Doodle, so you can make sure everyone else hears it, too.”
“Do tell, Sheriff.”
Gossip had buzzed from one corner of town to the other in the four days since the arrest. Every detail of the how and why of Carl’s demise had been bandied about and dissected. But no one, not one person had mentioned Della Montrose’s name. They’d simply referred to her as the judge. It was as if she were dead to them. Brax didn’t expect her name to be on Teesdale’s lips now.
“Lafoote’s skipped town.”
Good thing or bad thing, Brax couldn’t be sure, but his gut tensed. “Where to?”
“Who the hell cares? He left on the morning bus.”
“What happened to that fancy car of his?” Doodle asked.
“Repo man in the middle of the night. I think our Lafoote has a few creditors he didn’t tell us about. Seems he was only the front man. He didn’t put up the money for the hotel. Now he’s skipped town before they find him.”
“Sounds a little too good to be true, Teesdale.”
“Maybe. But most of the time, things too good to be true do happen in Goldstone.”
Even as she lost something precious, Maggie had found friends who loved her. “Yeah. I think you’re right.”
Simone had found her courage. Brax had found Simone. All good things happened in Goldstone.
She entered then, in a black suit she’d found on a Goodwill rack on fifty-percent-off Tuesday. It was some designer brand a rich woman in Scottsdale probably got tired of. Simone always found bargains at Goodwill. They didn’t carry size zero, unless it was her sister’s garments she’d donated.
Her mother was probably still hyperventilating over it.
Mom and Maggie followed, also in black. They resembled a wedding procession. A beginning rather than an ending.
Maggie accepted the hugs and the kisses and the tears, then made a beeline straight for the table.
“Elwood Teesdale, I think you have something to tell me, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question.
A hush fell, waiting for Teesdale’s answer. Brax felt a hand slip through his arm and a warm body press to his side. He smelled her, the citrus of shampoo and the tang of woman. His woman. Simone.
Teesdale rolled his shoulders forward and hunched. “Shit, Maggie. Who the hell told you?”
“Everybody. Why am I the last to know?”
“I didn’t want you to know at all.”
“Maggie, honey, what are you talking about?” Enid Braxton put her arm around her daughter. Simone touched Maggie’s arm.
“Tell them about the gold, Elwood,” Maggie insisted.
“The chickens told you, didn’t they?”
Maggie lifted her chin, keeping her secret.
Until Chloe suddenly shoved through the crowd. “I told her. She’s got a right to know, Elwood. Best coming from a friend.”
His face fell in a hangdog expression. “I didn’t want to upset you, Maggie.” Teesdale’s attitude was contradictory in view of the fact that back in his office he’d told Brax that Maggie was strong enough to handle the truth. Guess it just depended on who was the bearer of bad news.
All the bluster and anger dropped away from Maggie’s face. “I know you worried, Elwood. You thought I’d break down and say that everything was a waste, a mistake, then I’d put a pillow over my face and try to suffocate myself.”
“Well, not quite that.”
“I’ll be okay.” She tugged on his arm. “Tell them, Elwood.”
Teesdale looked at her, his lips pressed together, then he raised his voice. “Went back and looked at that gold. No claim was filed, but it was Maggie’s no matter what anyone said.”
“And?” Maggie pushed.
“It wasn’t gold, sweetheart. It wasn’t gold at all.”
Simone gripped Brax’s arm. Squeezed. She knew as well as he did what was about to come. Brax put his arm out to catch Maggie if she fell.
“What was it, Elwood?”
“Aw, Maggie, you know it was Fool’s Gold.”
She rubbed her lips together, then suddenly looked to Brax, a shimmer in her eyes. “It wasn’t Fool’s Gold. It was Carl’s gold. And he got it for me.” Her lip trembled.
Brax tugged her closer, into the circle of his arms that included Simone and his mother. His family. “Yeah, honey, he got it for you because he loved you. The man was no fool.”
The place erupted around them. Hoots and hollers and shouts and cheers. Like something you’d hear at The Dartboard. But this was Goldstone. When they loved, they shouted. When they mourned, they sent a man off with a smile and the center cut of trifle.
Rowena handed Carl’s trifle to Maggie with great ceremony. “Saved his favorite part, dear.”
>
Maggie kissed the little woman’s weathered cheek, then started kissing all the other cheeks turned her way.
“She’s going to be all right, isn’t she?” Simone whispered in his ear.
“Yeah.” Then he turned and pulled her close, melting with her into the corner of the room. “We’re all going to take good care of her. Especially Mom.”
“I know. Your mom’s great.” She leaned back to look at him. “Did I insult her? I mean, when you first meet someone, you’re supposed to tell them they’re beautiful or something. Not ‘Gee, you look just like a mom.’”
The antithesis of Ariana.
He laughed. Simone would always make him laugh. “She knew it was the biggest compliment anyone ever gave her.” Sobering, he said, “Your mother will come around eventually.”
She sighed. “No. She won’t. She’s never going to accept me just the way I am. But I’m okay with that.” Stroking his cheek with a finger, she added, “I really am,” as if his doubt showed on his face.
He’d make damn sure she was okay. That was his new duty, and he relished it. Sliding his hand down to the small of her back, he pulled her close once more. “Say it.”
She knew exactly what he wanted. “I can’t say it here. You know what happens every time I say it.”
“Please. It’s been a hard day.” He did his best imitation of a pout.
It worked. “All right,” she said. “But you cannot touch me till later.”
“When later?”
“Later later.”
“You gonna get rid of your sister and Kingston for the evening?” He waggled his eyebrows.
“I’ll send them down to Flood’s End for one of Mr. Doodle’s Lava Flows. Jackie’s still sort of nervous about meeting new people, so it’ll be good for her to get out. Especially with Kingston to take care of her.”
“She’s a movie star. How can she be nervous?”
Simone shrugged. “She’s shy. You know, she’s always had my mother to run interference.”
Shy? Hard to believe, but it was probably why Jackie had decided not to come to Carl’s memorial. Too many people she didn’t know.
“Make it a pitcher of Lava Flows.” So Jacqueline Chandler would have plenty of time to get used to Goldstone’s residents. And Brax would have plenty of time alone with Simone. He tipped his head back to look at her. “I’ve got a very serious question.”
She smiled his favorite dazzle-smile. “Ooh, I love important questions.”
“Do you want me to read that planet book before we get married?”
“What planet book?”
“You know, the one where you’re a planet, and I’m a planet, and it tells us how to...” He stopped. “The how-to planet book.”
“You mean the one where I’m from Venus and you’re from Mars?” She laughed softly. “Let’s save that for later. Right now, I’ve got enough evidence that you know exactly how to.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Now say it.”
They communicated perfectly. She leaned back as far as his arms would allow, looped as they were behind her back. Putting a finger in the center of his chest, she dipped her lashes, drawing it out, driving him crazy.
“Now,” he whispered.
“Don’t make me bring out the flying monkeys.” Then she poked him in the chest.
He slumped against the wall, pulling him with her. “Promise you’ll say that every day for the rest of our lives.”
“I promise,” she whispered as solemnly as if it were a wedding vow.
He closed his eyes. “I feel a fantasy coming on.” Then he looked at her, waggling his eyebrows. “Want to write one?”
“Well, I do know the perfect hero to write about.”
He pulled her close for a sweet kiss. “I think we’re going to have to do a lot of research to get it just right.”
He couldn’t wait to get her home. Home was anywhere as long as Simone was with him.
“Now,” he murmured in her ear. “You piqued my investigative curiosity the other day. Tell me more about blue underwear and white pants.”
Simone smiled. Brax was dazzled. He always would be.
###
If enjoyed Fool’s Gold but missed the first book in the series, here’s where you can find She’s Gotta Be Mine
Here’s an introduction to Jennifer Skully’s latest release!
Baby, I’ll Find You
Cover design by Rosemary Gunn
A man without a future, a woman determined to give him one...
Jami Baylor has lost her job, her fiancé, her hopes, and her dreams all on the same day. But she believes in fate and destiny, and after finding Colton Amory’s CD in a thrift store grab bag, Jami knows it’s serendipity that she’s heard his song now. “Baby I’ll Find You” speaks to her heart, right when she needs it most. So, off she goes to the wilds of Yosemite to discover why Colton Amory hasn’t written another song in seven years.
The only problem? The man who wrote such beautiful music turns out to be a self-pitying jerk. Or so it seems, until Jami digs deeper.
Seven years ago, Cole Amory had a flourishing musical career and a little girl who was his pride and joy. In one split second, he lost it all. He hasn’t written a lyric or played a note since. Buried in a small Yosemite town, he’s now a fry cook at a fast-food joint. And he doesn’t need a woman with stars in her eyes opening all his old wounds and his guilt.
Can two people with nothing left to lose find it all?
Baby, I’ll Find You
Copyright 2011 Jennifer Skully
Chapter One
Good Lord, he’d fired her. Just like that. Her boss, Richard Headley, had scapegoated her. After five years with the company, Dick Head—as Jami referred to him in the privacy of her own mind—ripped the rug right out from under her.
Jami Baylor had never been fired, not even from the paper route she’d had as a kid.
The Bay Area had a late September rain yesterday, and a damp, musty smell permeated Used But Not Abused as Jami pushed through the thrift shop’s front door. She didn’t know if it emanated from the used clothing that had been shoved to the back of someone’s closet for too long or the ancient orange shag carpet covering the store’s concrete floor. Even the books smelled musty, as if they’d lain for years lost and forlorn in somebody’s attic.
Why did that feel like a metaphor for her life right now?
The stale scent didn’t bother anyone else. The shop was sardines-in-a-can packed. Fifty-percent-off Tuesday brought out shoppers in droves. Jami could barely find a spot to eyeball the latest treasures beneath the scratched glass showcase.
Behind the counter, Olga waddled towards her. “Baby Doll, what are you doing here in the middle of a workday?”
A large woman, Olga had to suck in her stomach to get behind the counter. Her face had turned to leather from years of smoking, and when she laughed too hard, she often lapsed into a coughing fit. Yet for the five or so years Jami had frequented the second-hand shop, Olga always had a kind word and a sweet smile.
Jami gave her one in return. “I needed a Used/Abused fix.”
The woman leaned in to inspect Jami. “You okay? Your nose looks like Rudolph. Got a cold coming on?”
No. She’d been crying. In the car, once she’d left the office, it hit her hard. She’d been fired. She’d worked in Silicon Valley for thirteen years, since graduating university, the last five at Southside Manufacturing. After four years as Cost Accounting Manager, she’d made the leap to Director of Materials, a job she’d toughed out for over a year. The first female director at Southside Manufacturing.
Yet when it came time for someone to take the blame, it was her signature on that purchase order sticking the company with thousands of specially machined parts they couldn’t use when their customer canceled a million-dollar contract. Cardinal rule in Purchasing, give yourself an out. Dick Head had her sign the PO without a cancellation clause. Against her better judgment.
That fact s
eemed to have slipped his mind when he fired her.
“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” she said, to avoid explaining. Especially since she might start blubbering again. Really, she wasn’t cut out to be an executive. “I just felt like a day off.”
“Well, good for you, Baby Doll. And let me tell you, we got some fine pieces in this weekend that your nieces will love.”
A woman elbowed Jami out of the way. “I want to see that,” she pointed for Olga, adding another finger smirch to the glass counter.
Jami gave the other lady room. Slightly chipped crockery and fine china with the gold edging worn off filled a display cabinet, and the necklaces and earrings in the glass sideboard were more of the dimestore variety than anything one would find at a jewelry store, but Jami loved buying the trinkets for her nieces. Kids were so easy. At last count, she had five nieces but no nephews, and that lack of a male heir was the bane of her mother’s existence.
By the time Jami came along, her mother already had three girls, each a year apart. She’d wanted a boy so badly she’d actually given Jami the boy’s name she’d had picked out before having the ultrasound. When the tiny fetus turned out to have the wrong apparatus, Mom thought she’d be cute by simply dropping the es off James and adding an i. Jami often wished her mother wasn’t so cutesy. She’d grown up feeling a bit...unnecessary in the scheme of things.
Not finding a thing that would make any of her nieces absolutely hyperventilate, Jami moved on. Halloween was, comparatively speaking, just around the corner, and Used But Not Abused was like any other shop, stocking Halloween gear a month before the main event. Scratched trick-or-treat pumpkins were stacked one atop the other and next to that, an assortment of battered skeletons to hang on the front door and Frankenstein monsters to guard the stoop.
At the back of the store, where the air got a little less circulation, the mustiness was enough to wrinkle her nose. But at least the crowd had thinned out. Most patrons favored the clothing aisles. Jami wasn’t interested in clothing. She’d discovered a treasure trove on a shelf in the back corner years ago. Even if she made it to the shop only five minutes before closing, when she had a particularly hard day, or was stressed at work, or she’d had a fight with Leo, she came here.
Fool's Gold (A sexy funny mystery/romance, Cottonmouth Book 2) Page 31