“Hope you’ve got some food,” Gaven said. “I’m starved.”
“Hey, you invited yourself. You wanted to eat, you should have brought some grub with you.” At Gaven’s chagrined expression, Tucker relented. “I’ve got eggs and bread. I figured I’d catch a couple of nice trout to round it out.”
The three dug up some poles Nate had kept at the camp and headed to the lake.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Gaven asked. “You gonna let us in?”
“Ask Brant. I already told him.”
“He said it wasn’t his story to share.”
Brant shrugged. “I don’t kiss and tell.”
Tucker shook his head. “I did not kiss this lout’s ugly mug, Gaven.”
While they dropped their lines in the water, Tucker wove his story once again, careful not to gloss over the hard parts.
“None of that was your fault.” Gaven reeled in his line and cast again. “You did what you had to do. Sounds to me like your LC was a total jerk.”
Tucker nodded his head in agreement. “Moving to the present. Enter Elisa and Daisy Danvers.”
Gaven frowned. “Don’t they fall on the plus side?”
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Tucker asked. “Instead, they’ve kind of muddied the water.”
“I don’t understand.” Pole in hand, Gaven studied his brother.
Tucker gave a wry laugh and rubbed a hand down his face, heavy with stubble. He hadn’t shaved since yesterday morning. “Here’s where things hit the fan. Honestly? I’ll preface this by saying that if it wasn’t happening to me, I might not believe it.”
He put fresh bait on his line.
“But?” Gaven made a come on, finish your story motion.
“Turns out Hard-Ass Harry is Elisa’s father and Daisy’s grandfather.”
“What?” Gaven bobbled his pole. “You’re making that up.”
“Nope. I don’t have enough imagination to come up with that. I mean, first of all, what’s the chance of a stupefyingly beautiful blond literally dropping at my feet? Then for her to be the daughter of my nemesis? I’m telling you, Fate’s got me in her sights, and she’s not shooting blanks.”
“You’re sure?” Gaven asked.
“Yeah. Elisa told me—after she turned down my marriage proposal.”
“Your marriage proposal?” Gaven looked shell-shocked. “When did that happen?”
“After Daisy’s surgery.”
Gaven turned to Brant. “You knew about that, too?”
Brant nodded.
“Don’t pout,” Tucker said.
“I’m not pouting. Did Elisa know about your pals?”
“Yeah, Gav, she knew.”
“He told her before us.” Brant’s words held the slightest hint of censure.
“Yeah, I did. I thought—I felt—ah, hell, Elisa and me had something special.”
“Had. Past tense?” Brant eyed him.
“Has to be. She said no.”
“Plus, she’s got a sorry excuse for a father, huh?” Gaven said. “She should probably have that tattooed across her forehead.”
Tucker frowned at Gaven, but guilt nipped at him. He’d been angry she hadn’t told him sooner, but would he have had the nerve to confess that if the tables were reversed? Ever?
At some point, his anger had morphed into sadness that Elisa’d had to spend any time at all with the jerk and compassion that her mother ran off on archeological digs and left her only child with an aging grandmother. In his books, that put Mom only one slim notch up from Harry.
“Well, at least you won’t have to spend any time with your father-in-law,” Gaven said.
Tucker held up a hand. “Whoa. Lt. Colonel’s not my father-in-law.”
“Not yet,” Gaven said.
Tucker shook his head. “Not gonna happen. The lady doesn’t want to marry me.”
“I disagree.” Gaven wasn’t about to give up. “In my opinion? She thinks you can’t want her now that you know, and she’s trying to make it easy on you.”
“As much as it hurts to agree with the kid, I think he’s right,” Brant said. “Time you head home, Tuck. You’ve got some work to do.”
“And I’ve got a bite.” Gaven pulled a beauty from the water, looking for all the world like a kid on Christmas morning.
“Good.” Brant nodded. “Another couple of those, and we can eat.”
The brothers fished, talked, napped, ate, and then napped some more. It had been a long time since they’d spent an entire day together unrelated to work.
The cabin no longer felt gloomy.
Tucker stole a few minutes to text a good-night message to Elisa and Daisy. He missed them.
The three of them stayed up late playing cards, then talked long after lights-out. Early the next morning, Brant and Gaven headed back to civilization, leaving Tucker alone again.
He needed one more day at the cabin. He had things to do.
After the dust of his brothers’ departure settled, he took a long walk, then headed to the lake with coffee, paper, and pen.
He spent the rest of the morning and the better part of the afternoon writing letters. He wrote to Angie, Jorge, Nate, and LeBron. He wrote to Hard-Ass Harry. Although every word all but ripped out his guts, the process was cathartic. When he returned to the cabin, he fixed himself a can of only slightly out-of-date soup from the cupboard. He and his friends had eaten a heck of a lot worse when they’d been on recon missions.
After he washed the few dishes he and his brothers had dirtied, he wandered onto the porch, letters in hand. Leaning against the railing, one hand wrapped around Nate’s key, he knew what he needed to do.
Folding the letters, he stuck them in his back pocket while he gathered wood and stacked it in the fire pit, feeding it until he had a roaring bonfire. Bright red, blue, and orange flames shot high and lit up the night sky. One by one, Tucker laid his letters to his buddies on the flames. As they burned, he said his farewell to each.
He snapped the chain at his neck and pocketed the key. “Thanks for the loan, Nate. It did the trick. I won’t need it anymore.”
When he pulled the last letter from his pocket, he tapped it on his palm. Hard-Ass Harry’s letter didn’t deserve to be in the same funeral pyre as his friends’. They wouldn’t want him there. He found a sandy patch by the lake. Using a lighter he’d unearthed in the cabin, he lit the edge of the paper and watched as the flames licked at it, the edges curling and turning black. When it was reduced to ashes, he crushed those with the heel of his boot. So long, Harry.
His heart still throbbed like the worst toothache ever, but he was drained. He needed some sleep. As he flopped onto the old bed and closed his eyes, he realized his load had lightened…and he had a plan.
Chapter 28
Daisy had been home from the hospital for almost two weeks and was back at day care for half days. Tucker was running out of reasons to stop by every evening to see her and her mama.
The first visit had been the hardest, but Elisa had been gracious when he’d called, and again when he’d shown up at her door. She’d listened while he filled her in on his trip to Nate’s cabin and about the soul-searching he’d done there. He even told her about the letters he’d written to his pals and to her father.
“Where’s Nate’s key?” she’d asked.
“Gone. It did what he meant it to do.” Tucker had picked up Elisa’s hand and held it in his own. “I’ll never forget my friends, never forget what happened, but it’s time for me to move on.”
He’d raised her hand and kissed the back of it.
She hadn’t kicked him out on that visit or any of the following ones, but he wanted more now, and it was up to him to make it happen. He tied his sneakers and went for an early morning jog.
Forty minutes later, swea
ty and out of breath, inspiration hit. It would require a lot to pull it off, though. “Lady Luck, you owe me one. It’s time you paid off, ’cause I’m going to Vegas.”
He’d show them all. Oh yeah. Stick-in-the-mud Tucker Kennedy Wylder could color outside the box when he wanted to, and boy, did he want to. Pulling a notebook from his back pocket, he jotted down his to-do list.
Making a U-turn and heading back to the house, he called Brant. “Got a favor to ask.”
“How come you sound so out of breath?”
“I’m out for a run. Listen, I need a couple more days. Think you can slog along without me?”
“Gonna take the leap?” Brant asked.
“Yes, sir. It’ll take a lot of pieces coming together, though, to make my plan work.”
Gaven piped in. “Just bend that knee and ask her.”
“You on the speaker, Brant?”
“Yeah, sorry.”
“That’s okay. I already tried that, Gav. Well, minus the knee. It didn’t work.”
“You’re sure you want to do this?” Gaven asked. “It’s not always what you think it’ll be, and I’m speaking with the voice of experience.”
“More often it is as great as you imagine. Better than,” Brant added. “I say go for it.”
Tucker hung up, his mind ticking off boxes. He’d call in some favors and beg for a few more. Reaching his house, he toed off his shoes and headed to the kitchen for water.
Since Desdemona was the glue that would keep everything from falling apart, he called her next. “I have a huge favor to ask, but it’s for a great cause. Actually, I’m gonna ask for two favors.” He explained his plan, and before he’d even hit the halfway mark, big-hearted Desdemona was in tears.
“Here’s the thing. You’d have to handle both Daisy and the bookstore for a couple of days. Can you do it?” he asked her.
“Wearing my spiffiest cowboy boots and with one hand tied behind my back.”
“I love you, Desdemona Rosebud Hawkins.”
“Love you, too. Gonna take me a while to get used to my new name.” She giggled like a schoolgirl. “I am just bursting with happiness, sweetie.”
“As long as you don’t burst in front of anyone. This needs to stay our secret.”
“Believe it or not, even with this big mouth of mine, I can keep a secret with the best of them when I want to.” She hesitated. “Yancy hasn’t sold his house yet, so he’s not here all the time. With everything Daisy’s been through, Elisa might kick up a fuss about leaving her. You might tell her that a certain doctor will be joining Daisy and me for our pajama party. If he stays the night, Elisa will rest a sight easier.”
“And yet another of your stellar qualities is that self-sacrificing soul.”
Her hearty laugh threatened to burst his eardrum.
“We’re good, then?” Tucker asked.
“You bet. We’ll do fine. You take care of our Elisa.”
“Thanks, Desdemona. I’m hopin’ to do that for the rest of my life.”
He hung up and checked another item off his list.
The next call had him fidgeting. Fingers crossed that his new sister-in-law would be willing to play the role of fairy godmother, he took a deep breath when she answered. “Hey, Molly. Busy?”
“Not right now. Caylee Davenport and her mother danced out my door a few minutes ago. I’m not sure either’s feet touched the pavement.”
“Wedding gown shopping?”
“Better. Wedding gown purchased!” Molly said.
“How about we make that two sales today?”
“What?”
“I need a wedding gown. One that’s fun, but still fairytale-ish,” Tucker said.
Silence followed.
Finally, Molly said, “I don’t understand.”
“You sell wedding gowns.”
“I do.”
“I need one.”
“Why?”
He exhaled loudly and concentrated on a fluffy cloud drifting outside his kitchen window.
“Okay, Tuck, I get it. You don’t want to tell me. I’ll need to know the size, though.”
“To fit my Lissie.”
“Your—”
He held the phone away when Molly erupted in a loud squeal.
“You asked her to marry you? She said yes?”
“Yes and no,” Tucker said.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I fumbled the ball first time out.”
“You screwed up?” Molly asked.
“Royally. Brant didn’t tell you?”
“No, and he’ll pay for that. If she said no…”
“I know what I did wrong, Molly, and I hope she’ll give me another chance.” He filled her in on his hare-brained scheme.
“Oh, Tuck.” She let out a long sigh. “That’s so romantic. So not like you.”
“Hey, I can be romantic.”
“I guess you can.” Then she said, “Other than the wedding gown, she won’t have any clothes besides the ones she leaves in.”
“She won’t need any.” He swore. “Sorry, that was crude and uncalled for.”
“Um, Tuck?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you forgetting I’m a new bride?”
He chuckled. “Okay. Still—”
“Is money a concern?”
“Nope.”
He could practically hear her rubbing her hands together in anticipation.
“How long will you be gone?” she asked.
“Tonight and tomorrow. We’ll be back tomorrow night. Desdemona and Doc are willing to babysit Daisy, but I doubt I’ll be able to keep Elisa away from her any longer than that.”
“Good call. I’ll let you have the gown, Brother-in-Law—and I know exactly the one—for my cost. Shoes, too. Oh, and undergarments.”
Tucker powered up his internal calculator. Well, he did tell her to ignore the price tag.
“Don’t worry, Tuck. When you see her, both in and out of that gown in those little scraps of silk and lace, you’ll get down on your knees and thank me.”
He imagined her devilish grin. “I’m already there, Molly, and Lissie’s worth every penny of the money you intend to spend for me.”
She chuckled. “You Wylder guys. How can Elisa say anything but yes?”
“She managed it fairly easily before.”
“Well, she won’t this time around,” Molly assured him.
“From your lips to God’s ears.”
“I’ll run down to Sue Ellen’s dress shop and pick out a couple of outfits for tomorrow. A girl needs a choice, after all. Everything else, I’ll pull from my stock. I’ve got suitcases stored upstairs in my old apartment that you can use.”
“I owe you, Mol.”
“You do. But if you talk Elisa into marrying you and add her and that adorable little girl to our family, you can consider the debt paid.”
“I’m gonna do my best.”
“Everything will be ready inside an hour. Lettie will be here in ten minutes or so, and she can watch the store.”
When he hung up, he rested his head against the back of the kitchen chair. Doubts crept in. What if she said no again?
She wouldn’t—and if she did, he’d just have to change her mind.
Okay. He rubbed his temples, then placed his next call. He needed a big old Cadillac convertible and knew exactly where to find the prettiest firethorn metallic ’76 El Dorado on the planet.
Woofer picked up on the second ring.
While he caught up with his old friend, Tucker loped upstairs and dug out a suitcase. His tux hung at the back of the closet, freshly dry-cleaned. When his mother had insisted her boys each have their own, he’d argued with her. As usual, she’d been right.
After he and Woofer finis
hed with football, politics, and life in general, Tucker asked, “You still got the red Caddy we restored?”
“Sure do. She’s a thing of beauty.”
“Think I could borrow it?”
“You here? Why didn’t you say so?” Woofer asked. “I figured you were calling from Georgia.”
“I am in Georgia. But if all goes well, I’ll be in your neck of the woods later today.”
“The Caddy’s yours, my friend, for as long as you need it. It’ll be at the airport waiting for you. I’ll text where it’s parked and leave the keys on top of the driver’s side rear tire. My curiosity’s piqued, boy. Can I ask what you’ve got goin’ on?”
“You can.” This time around it wasn’t nearly as hard to explain.
One more call, and this one was a biggie. If he ran into a problem here, he’d have to rethink things.
It went smooth as silk. A single call to one of Wylder Rides’ celebrity clients netted him a private jet. It would be in Savannah in a couple of hours, fueled and ready to go. Sweet!
He’d run scenario after scenario through his mind, trying to decide how to handle the actual proposal. After learning the jet would be stocked with chilled champagne and caviar, it was a no-brainer. He’d pop the all-important question midair, somewhere between Georgia and Nevada.
This felt beyond right.
Why had he waited so long?
Now came the hardest part of the plan.
He checked the clock. Daisy and her mama would be at Doc’s for her check-up right about now. If he hurried, he could be there before they left.
In his prized Mustang, Tucker waited at the end of Doc Hawkins’s walk. The early winter’s day was bright, crisp, and clean. Pretty darned perfect.
Time would tell whether or not it remained that way—time and Elisa. She held the key to everything. But he’d done what he could; his plan was in place.
The heavy wooden door opened, and Elisa stepped out, blond hair spilling over her shoulders. Dressed in tan leggings with high leather boots, a white sweater, and a scarf the color of her pants, she stole his breath.
When she saw him, she smiled and waved. Daisy broke free to run to him.
He shot out of the car and caught her when she made a flying leap toward him.
“Hey, squirt. How are you doing?”
I've Got You, Babe Page 29
