“Go on,” Marlene commanded. “I’m sure . . . he”— said with a disdainful glance in Chase’s direction—“can take care of things while you’re gone.”
Clearly, Nolie didn’t want to obey, but just as clearly, she couldn’t think of a reason not to. Marlene and Obie were Micahlyn’s grandparents, after all, and she’d missed them a lot. Of course she would want to spend as much time with them as possible.
“All right,” Nolie said at last. “But before I go . . . it took a long time for Micahlyn to adjust to Bethlehem as her new home.”
Marlene sniffed.
“But she has adjusted. She has friends here. She likes it here. Don’t talk to her about going back to Whiskey Creek to live, because it’s not going to happen. This is her home now. Okay?” She waited until her father-in-law nodded and her mother-in-law shrugged, then took her purse from the drawer. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she said, more to Chase than the others. The look she gave him was apologetic.
All he could do in response was smile.
The instant the door closed behind her, the store seemed a smaller, unfriendlier place. He’d spent plenty of time in smaller rooms with unfriendlier people—thieves, drug dealers, murderers—and never found himself at a loss for words, but damned if he couldn’t think of a single thing to say to these people.
It was Obie who finally broke the silence. Looking around the room, he nodded and said, “Nice store.”
Marlene snorted. “For God’s sake, Obie, it’s a feed store. ”
“And it’s a nice one.”
Chase kept his attention partly on Marlene, but directed his answer to Obie. “Nolie’s done a lot of work on it.”
“How’s business?”
“Pretty good. The next nearest feed store is forty-five miles away, so she’s got no competition.”
“She have help besides you?”
“A teenage boy comes in after school and on Saturdays. I don’t work here. I’m just kind of helping her out.”
“Helping her out of what? Her clothes?” Marlene snorted again. “We saw an example of your kind of help.”
Heat rushed into Chase’s face again. “We were just—”
Turning her back, she cut him off and tapped one foot impatiently. “What’s taking so long? We drove through that dreary little town. She could have gone all the way to the other end and back by now.”
For the first time in his life, Chase felt compelled to defend his hometown. “Bethlehem must not compare to the cosmopolitan charm of Whiskey Creek, home to . . . let’s see, a café, a gas station, a post office, and four churches.”
Her shoulders straightened and the toe-tapping stopped, but that was the extent of her response.
Fortunately a customer came in in the ensuing silence. Unfortunately, the man was one of his father’s old fishing buddies. He carried a couple gallons of spray for his fruit trees to the counter, set them down, and pulled his wallet out before doing a double take. “Chase Wilson. I was just in your dad’s office, asking him if it was true that you were back. He said he didn’t know and—” He looked at the Harpers, then left the sentence dangling.
Didn’t know and didn’t care, Chase silently finished for him. “You should have asked Leanne instead.”
“She sure turned out pretty, didn’t she? Your dad’s just prouder ’n a peacock of her.”
Because she was pretty? Hey, he had it on good authority that he was passably good-looking himself, but it had never made a difference in the way Earl treated him. “That’s $19.46.”
The old man handed over a twenty, then slid his change in his pocket. “You oughta drop in and see your folks sometime. Parents oughta know when one of their kids moves back home, doncha think?”
He thought there came a time when the bond between some parents and their kids—and kids-in-law—should be severed forever. For him that time had come sixteen years ago. He was afraid it had just arrived for Nolie.
Of course, he didn’t say any of that. He just thanked the man for his business and watched him leave.
“So . . .” Obie picked up a pair of pruning shears, tested the blade with one callused thumb, then returned them to the shelf. “You’ve been away a while.”
Chase nodded.
“Ever regret leaving?”
“No.” Though he did regret not making a more intensive effort to stay connected with Leanne. An awful lot about the past few years would have been easier if he’d had her support.
Marlene smiled snidely. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have come back.”
He smiled, too, but kept his emotions out of it. “I don’t have any regrets about that, either. In fact, it was probably the best decision I ever made.”
That expended their store of small talk. No one said another word until the door swung open and Nolie guided Micahlyn into the store, one hand over the kid’s eyes. “Can I see the surprise now?” she asked excitedly. “Is it a dog? Did you get me a dog?”
Nolie removed her hand. Micahlyn’s eyes opened wide and she squealed. “Grandma! Grandpa!”
Marlene opened her arms wide. “Mikey! Come here and— Oh, my God, what happened to your hair?”
“I got it cut,” Micahlyn replied at the same time her grandfather said, “And it looks good, doesn’t it, Marlene?”
“Touching,” Chase murmured when Nolie circled the group hug and joined him. He really didn’t mean to sound cynical. There was a lot of love between those three, no doubt about it.
And no doubt at all that the only best interests Marlene had at heart were her own.
IT WAS AFTER MIDNIGHT WHEN NOLIE SCRUBBED her face, brushed her teeth, and pulled on her satin robe, then went into the bedroom. Chase insisted he liked the way she looked in that particular garment, and heaven knew, she liked the way she felt when he looked at her in it—sexy. Beautiful. Special.
Wearing nothing but jeans, he was standing at the window, looking out. Though she would have sworn her bare feet had made no noise, when she got close, he extended his arm without looking, then drew her snugly against him.
“You okay?”
I am now. There was something amazingly reassuring about being in his arms. Bad things could happen—Obie and Marlene walking into the store today was proof of that—but as long as he was there to hold her at the end of the day, everything would be all right.
Naturally, she didn’t dump all that on him. Instead, she rested her head against his shoulder and murmured, “I’m fine.”
“A long day, huh?”
“Very.” Against her better judgment, she’d let the Harpers take Micahlyn for the afternoon. After work, they’d all met for dinner at McCauley’s, where the steak had been easier to cut than the tension, then walked the few blocks to the ice cream shop on the square for dessert. Nolie had been about to order a sugar-free frozen yogurt when Marlene, her timing impeccable, asked if she’d put on a few pounds since coming to Bethlehem. In response, she’d ordered strawberry ripple instead, licked the cone clean, then eaten it for good measure . . . exactly what Marlene had wanted her to do. She’d felt like such a spineless puppet . . . also what Marlene had wanted.
Afterward, they passed an excruciating two hours at home before Obie had finally been able to draw Marlene away. She’d wanted Micahlyn to spend the night with them at the motel, but he’d reminded her they had only the one bed until a room with two came available.
Nolie had been grateful, because, truth was, somewhere way down inside, she wasn’t comfortable with the idea of Micahlyn spending too much time with them. They’d helped raised her, changed her diapers, supported her, entertained her, and loved her, and that hadn’t changed, but one thing had—their feelings for Nolie. And that made her uncomfortable with giving them unlimited time with her daughter.
“Do you think they really just missed Micahlyn and wanted to see Bethlehem?” The wistfulness in her voice was impossible to ignore. She desperately wanted Chase to tell her yes, that was all, there was no reason to worry, and
if he did, she would pretend to believe him.
But he didn’t, and no matter how hard she’d pretended, she never would have convinced herself.
“No.” Chase’s voice was soft, his breath stirring her hair. “I don’t know why they’re here, but I don’t think it’s anything so innocent.” He tensed, then shifted against her as if to hide it. “Do you think . . .”
Waiting for him to continue, she watched a shooting star streak across the sky—her first since coming to New York. She’d been about ten and terribly disappointed when she found out that shooting stars weren’t stars at all. Just tiny objects flying through space at such speeds that they became incandescent when they entered the atmosphere. She’d eventually gotten over her disappointment, though, and considered shooting stars the best stars of all to wish on.
I wish I may, I wish I might . . .
After a moment, Chase cautiously continued. “Do you think your in-laws would do something rash?”
“You mean, like . . . kidnaping Micahlyn?” she asked, surprised he could even suggest it.
“Like trying to get custody of her.”
“Oh, no. No, no, no, they would never do either of those things. They’re not real happy with me right now, but they love her dearly, and they know I do, too. I would do anything for her.”
“Except move back to Whiskey Creek and under Marlene’s control.”
She smiled without humor. It hadn’t taken him long to size up the relationship with Jeff’s parents. When it came to farm matters, Obie ruled. On everything else, they were the epitome of that bad old joke— When I want your opinion, I’ll give it to you.
“I know they were very disappointed by my decision to come here. They would have stopped me if they’d been able to. Heavens, Obie tried to sell everything without my knowing it.”
“A move orchestrated by his wife, no doubt.”
She nodded. “But I don’t believe they would ever try to take Micahlyn. It’s just hard for them, not having that last little bit of Jeff around.”
“Then . . . you believe their only reason for coming here is to see Micahlyn.”
The silence drew out, long and heavy, before she finally managed to whisper her answer. “No.”
That truth worried her more than she could say.
“Well, babe, it’s one problem we can’t do anything about right now. But I’ve got another problem that I think might take your mind off of it . . . if you’re up to it.”
When he slid her hand to the bulge in his jeans, she laughed. “You certainly are. By all means, darlin’, take me away.”
AFTER THEY’D MADE LOVE AND HE’D FALLEN ASLEEP holding her close, Nolie gazed drowsily into the night sky. What wish had she made on the falling star? Oh, yeah, for this—Chase in her bed, her daughter safe down the hall, utter satisfaction, love, and pure, sweet pleasure.
For the last few nights, that wish had been reality, and for at least one more night, it would stay true.
And Marlene and Obie couldn’t change it. She wouldn’t let them.
FRIDAY’S HOT-DOG NIGHT WASN’T QUITE THE EASY, relaxed event Nolie had gotten used to over the past six weeks. For one thing, there were more people—the three of them, Marlene and Obie, Leanne, Danny, and Ryan Jackson. Cole hadn’t been able to come, Leanne had said, but he’d sent the investment prospectus he’d promised. It sat on the end table, its white folder elegantly embossed with Jackson Investments in gold foil.
For another, Nolie had caught Marlene telling Micahlyn about the wonderful backyard gym awaiting her in Arkansas, describing it in such wondrous terms that even Danny appeared ready to kiss his mother good-bye and head west. When she’d seen Nolie’s frown, she’d returned it with such coldness that Nolie had been shaken all the way to her core.
And, the icing on the cake, Leanne was so low her chin practically bumped the floor when she walked. She was doing her best to hide it, especially from Chase, but Nolie saw through her phony smiles and chatter.
“Just a little bit longer, kids, and dinner will be ready,” Nolie announced before she headed for the kitchen. The chili and sauerkraut were heating on the stove, and Leanne was chopping onions. Chase and Obie were on the patio, sharing the grilling chores but not much else, judging from their body language when she looked out the window.
All that was left was to grate the cheese, pour drinks, figure out seating, find out what was wrong with Leanne, and endure another painfully uncomfortable evening with her in-laws. Then she could crawl into bed with Chase and hide until the sun came up the next morning.
“What’s the wicked witch doing?” Leanne whispered when Nolie started work on the cheese.
“Nice description,” Nolie whispered back. “She’s trying her best to incite a mutiny. To hear her tell it, Bethlehem is the armpit of the world and Whiskey Creek is heaven on earth. You’d better make sure Danny doesn’t stow away with them when they leave.”
“When will that be?”
“Darned if I know. I feel funny about asking them outright, but they seem not to catch my hints.”
“Your hints are probably so polite, no one could catch them. It’s your life, Nolie. Walk in there, look her in the eye, and say, ‘The Wizard called. They need you back in Oz ASAP.’ ” With the back of the knife, Leanne scraped the chopped onions into a bowl. “You know, it took me a long time to see the bright side of Greg taking off before Danny was born. Just think—if he’d stuck around, we could have gotten married and I could have had a mother-in-law like that.” She shuddered as if horrified by the possibility.
“She wasn’t always this bad. In fact, before Jeff died, she was a nice woman.”
Leanne looked skeptical. “Was she really nice? Or just pretending to be because you all let her have her way?”
Watching shreds of sharp New York cheddar fall into the bowl as she grated, Nolie considered the question. All the major decisions in her and Jeff’s lives—when they would get married, in what kind of wedding, where they would live, even where they would eat their evening meals—had been orchestrated by Marlene. She’d chosen Nolie’s wedding gown, had planned their anniversary dinners, and had replaced Nolie’s choice of christening outfits for Micahlyn with her own. And it had never occurred to Nolie to argue with her. She’d been a good little girl, had gone along and gotten along.
“I don’t know,” she said at last. “I don’t know whether she changed after Jeff died . . . or I did.”
“God, it must have been tough, outliving their only child. If I lost Danny . . .”
“I know.” As one, they turned to look at the kids. Ryan was sprawled sideways in the recliner, watching TV. Danny was curled up on his lap, and Micahlyn sat on the sofa looking at a storybook with Marlene.
When she turned back, Nolie asked, “Is Cole working tonight?”
“So he said. I hear my lazy brother’s working at the store with you. If you get tired of him, send him my way. I’m getting new shipments every day, and I could use a little help.”
“Me? Get tired of him? I don’t think so.”
Leanne studied her with an intensity that matched Chase’s, then nodded once. “I don’t think so, either.”
Nolie wanted to change the subject and pursue that So he said response, but before she could, the back door opened and Chase came in, carrying a tray of nicely grilled wieners. There were lines at the corners of his mouth, emphasizing its taut set. These past couple of days had been hard for all of them. Every conversation with Marlene— and there’d been too many to count—had been stiff and awkward, if not outright hostile. All Nolie wanted was for the Harpers to go home, and that made her feel guilty— because they were Jeff’s parents and they’d been so good to her and Micahlyn—and selfish, because she just wanted to get on with her life.
There was incredible tension in the air, and it wore on her nerves. It was like waiting for an explosion, helpless to do anything but hope everyone survived the fallout. It was awful spending all her free time that way, and even worse for
Chase, since he didn’t have to be a part of it. He was doing it for her, and she loved him for it.
Someday she was going to tell him.
Leanne took the tray from him and dumped the wieners in a warm dish, then set it on the dining table. “How do you want to do this, Nolie? Half of us eat outside and half here?”
“Only if we get the half that doesn’t include Marlene,” Chase murmured.
“Why don’t we all eat in the living room? The kids can use the coffee table, and I’ve got some folding trays stored in Hiram’s office.”
“Is that the door by the stairs?” Obie asked as he closed the door behind him. “I’ll get ’em and set ’em up.”
“Thanks.”
The next voice she heard from the living room was Marlene’s. “We’re eating in here?”
How many times had Nolie heard comments like that from her? Couched as questions so she could always fall back on a defense of I wasn’t criticizing—just asking if anyone took exception, and usually asked in a tone that was sweet, friendly, concerned, or curious. Implied criticism had suited her better then. Now she didn’t rely on implications. Her tone made it clear exactly what she thought.
A response came from the least likely person in the house—Ryan. “What’s wrong with that?”
“What if one of you children spills something on the floor?”
“So what if they do? It’s wood. Hot dogs aren’t going to ruin a wood floor.”
“Attaboy, Ryan.” Chase scooped up four glasses of lemonade, then grinned at Nolie. “You ready?”
“No. But I’ll go in if you will.” Though he walked off, she dawdled over picking up two glasses. She’d just turned from the counter when Leanne’s voice, strong and friendly, came through the doorway.
“So, Mrs. Harper, are you going home sometime soon?” Nolie smiled. She didn’t know what Earl and Phyllis Wilson’s problems were, and she didn’t much care. But she had to give them credit for one thing. By luck, accident, or—more likely—noninvolvement, they’d created two great kids.
Cabin Fever Page 29
