There was one more stop to make before he left Houston, and that was the one he was least anticipating. He pulled up in front of the familiar white columned mansion with the circular drive in the River Oaks area of town, and then sped right past. Slowing to a stop around the block, he took a deep breath and then turned around and went back.
He parked and walked up to the massive front door to ring the doorbell before he lost his courage. A maid let him in, led him to the parlor, then left him alone.
A few minutes later the door opened and Milo Rossi wheeled himself in with a uniformed caregiver following close behind. “Scoot,” he told the woman, and she did exactly that, leaving them behind closed doors.
The décor had changed since the last time he’d been here. More African safari and less English manor, or at least that was his observation. Trey walked past two mounted antelope heads to shake Mr. Rossi’s hand.
“Welcome,” he said. “I understand you tendered your resignation at Turner Regional this morning.”
“Word travels fast.”
“In my world, information is power.” He gestured to the sofa. “Sit, Trey. I’m interested in why you needed to see me. Do you need a job?”
“No, sir.”
Mr. Rossi lifted one broad shoulder. “A pity. I’d give you one in a heartbeat. Anything for the man who saved my life.”
“I did as I was trained to do, nothing more.” He leaned forward. “I’m only here to thank you.”
The older man waved away any further discussion. “I’m in your debt, not the other way around.”
“But without your intervention, I would still be in that jail cell. I owe you my life, sir.”
He shook his head. “Oh, son, if you would only see the big picture. Do you think I wanted to have you out of that prison? No, I’ll tell you. I did not. Any man who breaks my daughter’s heart, well, suffice it to say prison is not even sufficient punishment for such an offense.”
Trey’s gaze sunk to his boots. He hadn’t thought about Vikki and what ending their relationship might have done to the rest of the Rossi family. Back then, he’d rarely considered anything beyond himself.
“However,” Mr. Rossi said with enough authority to recapture Trey’s attention. “I did it because my gut told me I was supposed to.” Trey shook his head. “I don’t understand.” “Neither did I,” he said. “Until that night at Fish Camp when you saved my life. Imagine if I hadn’t pushed Ross’s accomplice to testify for you.
Where would I be today if you were still locked up instead of at Fish Camp on Thursday? Come here.”
Trey rose to move closer as the older man struggled to his feet. He reached to offer help, but Mr. Rossi shook his head.
“There,” he said when he found his balance. “I am eye-to-eye with you, which is as it should be. See, this is not only between you and me, Trey Brown. Thank you. Because of your skill with a knife, I am still here.”
He thought to say something to argue but couldn’t quite decide what. Instead, he merely dipped his head and said, “You’re welcome.”
The older man remained standing as he pressed a button attached to the lanyard around his neck. An instant later, the uniformed attendant returned to help him into the chair.
“Now leave, Trey. And stay away from my daughter.”
Not a problem. In fact, he only had one woman on his mind—one woman he’d fallen in love with—and it was not Victoria Rossi. “Yes sir.”
Unfortunately, he returned to his truck to see Vikki sitting in the passenger seat. “So, did you and Daddy have a nice chat?”
He reluctantly climbed inside and stuck his keys into the ignition.
“Get out, Vikki. I just promised your father I would stay away from you. I no longer break promises.”
“Well, isn’t that noble of you.” She sighed. “All right. I just wanted to know why you didn’t scrub in on the surgery with—”
“Your boyfriend?” he snapped. “Ask him.”
She chewed her index finger and watched him from across the seat. “I did. He won’t tell me.”
“I don’t want to play your games.” He turned to place both hands on the steering wheel. “Our conversation is done.” They were done. Vikki might be able to forget everything that had happened before his exoneration, but he couldn’t.
Trey climbed out and slammed the door. Vikki did the same and then followed him as he walked down the driveway toward River Oaks Drive. If he had to walk the whole way home, it would be a small price to pay compared to spending another minute with her.
“What kind of idiot are you to walk away from all of this?”
More to the question, what kind of idiot had he been to think of staying? Of marrying her?
The kind of idiot who needed a Bible and a lengthy period of solitude in which to read it, apparently.
“You’re different, Trey,” she said. “And I don’t think it is prison that changed you.”
Trey stopped short. “You’re wrong, at least in part.” He pressed past her and returned to the truck. “Going to prison was exactly what was needed to get my attention.”
“So you’re saying prison was a good thing?” Her expression conveyed a level of disbelief. “Really?”
“Prison was worse than you can even imagine. The only good thing about it was that I finally had nowhere to run.” He climbed inside. This time he was quick to lock both doors, but he did open the driver’s side window. “If you’re looking for advice—”
“I’m not.”
He ignored her words and gave it anyway. “I wish someone had told me just to be still and listen.”
“I don’t get it.”
Trey started the truck and shifted into drive. “You will if you listen long enough.”
He left Vikki standing in the driveway and pointed the truck toward Sugar Pine. With each mile that fell behind him, he listened a little more.
Sessa sprinkled flour over the wooden counter top and reached for the bowl. “I will get this pie crust right if it kills me.”
“And it just might.”
“Mama!” Sessa righted the bowl just before its contents would have spilled onto the kitchen floor. “You scared me to death. What are you doing here on a Tuesday? I thought you had Quilt Guild.”
“And I thought you wanted to go with me.”
Swiping the towel, she cleaned off her hands and turned to face her mother. “You and I both know what that was about.”
Mama nodded and even had the decency to look contrite.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Sessa demanded. “Especially after all that pushing to get me to open up about Trey.”
“Because it’s not easy being on the other end of … well …”
“Teasing? Pushiness? Oh, maybe control?”
Her mother waved away the questions. “No, none of that. I just didn’t want to be in the spotlight. Walter and I, we are taking things slow. Or were.”
“Were?”
Mama grinned. “Last night while we were eating supper, he popped the question.”
“Oh Mama!” She crossed the room and gathered her mother into an embrace. Though she would always miss her daddy, Sessa was truly happy that Mama had found love again. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Are you?” She seemed to be studying Sessa’s face. “Because after your daddy died, well, I just didn’t think I’d find another man like him.” She held up her hands. “And honey, please understand I haven’t found someone like him, but I have found someone who I like. No one will take Daddy’s place, but he never did want me to be alone. Does that make sense?”
“It makes perfect sense.” She surreptitiously wiped away a tear. “So when’s the wedding?”
She shook her head. “Oh, I haven’t said yes yet.”
“Why not?”
Mama put on her most stubborn face. “Honestly, Sessa. I am a catch. Don’t you think I’m worth a proposal with a little more thought put into it?”
“I, well …” She co
vered her smile with her hand. “Yes, of course,” she managed.
“Darn right I am. I told that old coot he’d better get down on one knee and make a show of it. And not at the Pancake Hut either. Goodness, how tacky would that be? And that floor, well he’d probably stick to it if he knelt down, what with all the syrup that’s been spilled there.”
Mama went on, but Sessa tuned her out and concentrated on her piecrust. To her surprise, she managed to roll out what appeared to be a perfect crust.
“Sweetheart,” Mama said. “I don’t think I’d have believed you made that if I hadn’t seen you do it right there in front of me.”
“Thank you, Mama.” She crimped the edges and cut slits in the top then finished off the crust with egg wash and stuck it in the oven. “How about we sit down and have a cup of coffee while the pie bakes?”
“Shouldn’t you be working on those horses? I thought you said you were up to your eyeballs in work?”
“I am,” she said slowly, “but since I haven’t found anyone to hire to help, I’m doing it all, and that gets overwhelming. Sometimes I just have to walk away and close the door for awhile.”
“And bake pies instead?”
“Exactly.” Sessa nodded toward the coffee pot. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to have some coffee?”
Mama shook her head. “I can’t. I’m missing lunch, but I did mention to a certain someone that I’d still be going to Quilt Guild. If he’s got good sense, he’ll figure out he needs to take me to supper in Sively and practice his knee bends and please-marry-mes before I lose interest.”
“If he has good sense, he’ll run,” she said under her breath.
Mama looked back from the window, where she’d been studying something out in the pasture. “What’s that, Sessa?”
“Nothing, Mama. Have a good time. Let me know if you elope.”
“Oh child, you are just too funny.” She kissed Sessa on the cheek and then snatched up her keys and purse. “This is Sugar Pine. No one elopes here.”
After setting the timer on the oven, Sessa went to the window to see what Mama had been looking at. Sitting in a rocker beneath the pecan tree was Trey Brown, and he looked quite pleased with himself.
She brushed the flour from her clothes and joined him outside. “What are you doing out here?” She looked around, then turned back to him. “And more important, where’s your truck? I didn’t see it in the driveway.”
She thought to brush a kiss across his cheek, but he slid his arm around her back and drew her down into his lap. Trey rained kisses on her forehead and then slanted his lips over hers. His kiss left her breathless and made her heart race.
“No, you wouldn’t have seen the truck,” he said when Sessa climbed to her feet. He patted the empty rocker. “Join me?”
She glanced at the clock on her phone. “Just for a few minutes. I’ve got a pie in the oven.”
He smirked. “Don’t you mean the mailbox?”
“For your information, cowboy, I have been practicing, and I do believe I’ve made the perfect peach pie.” At his skeptical look, she added. “Even my mother agrees. Would you like me to call Bonnie Sue to come back here and have her confirm this?”
“No,” he said quickly. “No need for that.”
“Well, trust me, it’s going to be good.”
He gave her a sideways look. “Does that mean I’m invited for supper?”
“I hadn’t thought about supper, but you’re definitely invited for pie.”
Trey dipped his head. “I would be honored to share pie with you and the princess.”
“Oh, she’s not here tonight. She’s doing a girlie sleepover with Aunt Coco.”
“I thought you were keeping her close.”
“I was,” Sessa admitted.
“And now you’re not.” His eyes were too perceptive, but she managed to hold his gaze. “How’re you holding up?”
It had been two long weeks since he’d been here for their Sunday date. She’d missed him more than she wanted to admit, but they’d talked on the phone for hours, like they were teenagers again.
She’d told him about Skye’s appearance. He’d been a good listener, not trying to tell her how to solve things but supporting her when she’d told him about her conflicted feelings.
And now the clasp of his hand over hers was a comfort. “Surprisingly … okay.”
He squeezed her hand. “Given that you and Pansie are the most important people in my life, I decided to do a little discreet checking. Since Jared said he’d do me a favor if I needed one …”
“Wait … we are?”
His eyebrows lifted. “Have I not made that clear?”
She grinned as warmth spread all through her. “You have now.” She thought about his checking. Exhaled slowly. “I’m terrified if I think about her coming back and wanting to take Pansie with her. But … Let’s just say my faith has grown with each day that it doesn’t happen.”
“I see.”
“I just have to face the fact that Skye may come back someday, and she may want her daughter. Until then, I have to trust that Pansie is safe with me.” She paused. “Besides, as you said, Sugar Pine is a small town. I can’t imagine that Skye could slip out of here with Pansie and not be seen.”
Even as she said the words, Sessa shuddered. That, of course, was her biggest fear.
“I’ve never had kids of my own,” he said slowly, “so maybe I’m not the one to comment on this, but I can’t imagine just walking away from my own flesh and blood and never coming back.”
Sessa sighed and thought of what Skye gave up, of how she sacrificed so her daughter could have more than she could offer. “Me, either.”
They were silent for moments that stretched long, comfortable. Then he leaned forward in the chair, his hands on his knees.
“Sessa,” he said softly. “I’m falling in love with you. You got a problem with that?”
His admission caught her by surprise. Oh, but she wanted to say something witty, something that would make this memory one she could look back on with a smile. But suddenly her ability to speak had vanished quicker than a mud puddle on a hot Texas afternoon.
Instead, she finally managed a shaky, “I don’t.”
“All right then.” He reached across the distance between them to grasp Sessa’s hand.
“All right then,” she echoed, still searching for those words that might charm him further and reassure him he hadn’t chosen a woman with nothing but a head full of fluff.
“I do love you, Sessa Lee Chambers.” He slid her a sideways look, his expression softening. He didn’t seem to mind her fumbling for words. “You have no idea how much I love you.”
“Ditto.” She cringed. What in the world was wrong with her? Couldn’t she just tell him she loved him? Just say the words that refused to slip past her tongue?
She couldn’t, but she would. This much Sessa determined as they sat and enjoyed the quiet. Until the sound of the smoke detector shattered the silence.
Chapter Nineteen
“I do not care if you believe me or not, Trey Brown. That pie was going to be perfect. Even my mother said so.”
Trey opened the door of the Blue Plate Lunchateria and laughed as Sessa slipped inside. A glance around told him Jared had not yet arrived.
Ditto.
It wasn’t the most passionate response he could’ve hoped for. But it was more than nothing. More than he deserved.
Gratitude and anticipation buzzed in his veins, and he found it so very easy to tease her. “There is no shame in admitting that you’re just not able to make pies.”
“I can make pies just fine.” She lifted her chin a bit and waved at the woman behind the cash register. “Hey Sue Ellen. Just two tonight.”
Every eye in the room turned their way. Great. He’d been so busy enjoying spending time with Sessa that he hadn’t given much thought to what the citizens of Sugar Pine would think about having a killer in their midst.
“Oh hone
y,” Sue Ellen said as they approached. “I finally get to meet the famous Dr. Brown!” The woman’s broad smile seemed genuine enough, and her easy manner was definitely welcoming. Trey relaxed slightly.
Sessa made the introductions and then grinned at Sue Ellen. “You should have seen the peach pie I made. Mama said it was perfect.”
“But the smoke detector said it was burned to a crisp,” Trey added.
“Oh no.” Sue Ellen leaned toward Trey. “Too bad about the pie, but tonight’s special just happens to be peach pie! Oh, and we have fried chicken.”
She looked at him as if he ought to know the significance of that statement. “Good,” seemed to be the appropriate answer.
“It’s better than good,” she said sweetly. “It’s not often we offer our fried chicken anymore, because the only one who knows the recipe is Melba, and she’s been retired for longer than I’ve been alive. Or rather she’s been trying to retire since then.”
Sessa exchanged looks with him. And he added, “I guess I’m having the fried chicken, then.”
“Oh honey, don’t decide that until you sit down and look at the menu.” She looked at Sessa. “Is he always in such a hurry?”
“I really couldn’t say,” Sessa managed, smiling at Trey’s discomfort.
Sue Ellen picked up two menus. “Y’all come on and sit down. Now that I’m thinking about it, I need to go check on Melba. She gets a little forgetful. If she’s gone home, then you might as well forget about having the chicken tonight.”
An image of an ancient confused woman leaning precariously over a boiling pot of oil while chicken bubbled beneath her gnarled hands arose in his mind. He shook it away to follow Sessa and Sue Ellen to a booth in the center of the room.
Of course.
Trey caught a pair of camouflage-clad men and their dates openly staring and offered a nod of greeting. The men returned the gesture, and one of the women smiled. The other didn’t offer any response.
Firefly Summer Page 20
