“So how do you like our fair city, Phoebe?” He sat back in his chair with his hands tented under his chin. “Quite a change from Atlanta.”
“I love living in a small town. I was so tired of being just a face in a car on the Atlanta expressways.”
“People do tend to get to know one another better here. That’s true even if your face doesn’t appear on the front page of the Sunday morning paper.”
That didn’t sound quite so kind. “I suppose I should get used to a certain amount of publicity, at least until the campaign ends.” And then she would be totally out of the picture. Which was what she wanted, right?
Theresa and Tim came back from the kitchen, picked up more dishes and left again.
Preston DeVries shifted in his chair. “I’m sure you know by now that Adam’s mother isn’t happy with his decision to run for mayor. I support her in that.”
“I think his reasons are good. He wants to make a difference in his town.”
“He’s more likely to make a fool of himself.”
She sat up straight. “Because he stutters?”
“Surely you of all people recognize how folks feel about waiting for someone like Adam to finish what they’re trying to say. How is that going to work in a political campaign?”
“What he says matters much more than how he says it.”
“Not to most voters.” He held out his hands and smiled a charming, Southern gentleman smile. “I agree we need a change at city hall. But I’m doubtful Adam is the man to bring that change about.”
“I’m sorry to be rude, Dr. DeVries, but I completely disagree with you. I think Adam can do anything he sets his mind to, which includes winning this election.”
Adam came through the door as she spoke, and smiled as he heard her declaration. He set the cake he carried on the table in front of his mother’s place, then stepped behind Phoebe and put his hands on her shoulders. “Thanks,” he said, leaning close to kiss her cheek. “I knew I could count on you.”
The simple touch sent a shiver down her spine. She wondered if Adam was acting the part of the loving fiancé, or if he was simply grateful for her defense. And did he think she, too, was pretending? Phoebe knew she meant every word. She already had far too much of her heart invested in Adam’s campaign.
Cynthia DeVries entered the dining room, sat down and began serving large portions of German chocolate cake. “Well, Miss Moss…er, Phoebe, since you’ve experienced the social whirl in Atlanta, I’m sure you will feel right at home in our quieter gatherings here in New Skye.”
Phoebe trotted out yet another platitude from the etiquette classes her mother had insisted upon. “Everyone I’ve met has been very kind and made me welcome.”
“Of course. I was just thinking that you might want to participate in a project I’m working on for this fall—the Stargazer Fundraiser.”
After the first bite of cake, Phoebe took a sip of tea and said, with complete honesty, “This is absolutely delicious. Too rich to resist.” And then, with more caution, she added, “The Stargazer Fundraiser?”
“A dinner dance to raise money for the New Skye Botanical Gardens, held in the gardens themselves.”
“What a great idea. I’ve never visited the park, but I’ve heard it’s lovely.”
“Yes, but always in need of more operating funds. Hence this effort of mine. I expect quite a turnout, if preliminary interest is any indication.”
“I’m sure.” The conversation sounded nice, normal…but underneath the surface was the sensation of walking on razor blades.
“As the fiancée of a mayoral candidate, you might find having your name attached to this event quite…profitable.”
Phoebe glanced at Adam, who said, “M-Mother, I don’t think Phoebe has time for any more c-commitments. The c-campaign sc-schedule is really tight.”
His mother looked at him with raised brows. “But surely the benefits outweigh the extra effort required. The mayor’s wife is working with us. How will it look to the voters if Phoebe declines?”
“Like she’s got her own life and responsibilities to take care of.” He’d clenched his fist on his thigh.
Cynthia gave that some patient thought. “Do you mean that your future wife is more concerned with her own personal interests than working with you for this campaign and the future of the city?”
“I mean—”
Phoebe put a hand on Adam’s wrist. “I would be delighted to participate in the fundraiser, Mrs. DeVries. I haven’t been as involved as I would like this past year, because setting up my practice and getting settled in my home has taken most of my time. But now I can start. When is the next meeting of the committee?”
The older woman smiled serenely. “I thought you would see my point. The next meeting is tomorrow night, here, at seven. We’ll look forward to having your input.”
“I c-can’t b-believe you l-let her talk you into that m-meeting,” Adam said, once they’d escaped after dessert for a walk through the neighborhood. “You didn’t have to.”
“But she’s right. This is a way to get involved in the community. And I’m glad to do that, whether your campaign is an issue or not.”
“I see you as the k-kind to be working with Habitat for Humanity, or serving meals in a s-soup k-kitchen. V-volunteering for story hour at the library. N-not p-planning a d-d-dance for p-people who have too m-much time on their hands.”
Phoebe smiled at his insight. “Well, I can’t say this would be my first choice. These are also people with money to donate, though, and the Botanical Gardens benefit the whole community. That’s a good cause.”
“I g-guess.” He pulled a sprig of leaves off a boxwood shrub as they passed. “We g-grew up with her charity work, and we’re all p-pretty b-burned out on the idea of fundraisers. There’s more to be d-done for dis-dis-disadvantaged families than just g-give m-money. I’d like to see folks p-personally involved.”
“Which is what your campaign is about, isn’t it? Being personally involved? You wanted a different government, so you put yourself on the line to implement that change.”
His eyes were warm as he glanced at her. “I’m c-consistent, anyway.”
Phoebe linked her hands through his elbow. “A good thing, in a mayor. So this is where you grew up. Did you have friends in all these houses?”
“There were a lot of k-kids in the n-neighborhood. I was a loner, though, even b-before the s-stutter. Tim and Theresa were always hanging out with a c-crowd.”
“Did Tommy live nearby?”
“B-biking d-distance, in the d-days when p-parents let you ride around without helmets and without s-so m-much worry.”
“And Dixon?” Maybe she was prying, but he didn’t volunteer much information.
“He g-grew up in M-Miss D-Daisy’s house, out on the edge of town. I s-saw more of him in high school, when we all s-started d-driving. That’s when we g-g-got in the habit of p-playing b-ball on Saturday mornings. D-Dixon was kinda strange, though.” Adam shook his head. “Always wrapped around his g-g-guitar, making up tunes.”
“A preoccupation that seems to have paid off nicely for him, since he’s writing hit songs these days, getting awards and making friends in high places. I hear Evan Carter, the country music star, is coming to sing at their wedding next weekend. Are you going?”
“Wouldn’t m-miss it.”
“Me, neither. Kate will be a beautiful bride.”
“That’s her p-parents’ house, across the street.” He pointed to an elegant brick home on immaculate grounds. “And Kate lives a few bl-blocks away with her kids. L.T. b-bought one of the run-down old houses and sh-she turned it into a sh-showplace for him. Then he walked out on her.”
“But now she has Dixon. Pretty much a fairy-tale ending, if you ask me.”
“Except that the dr-dragon—L.T.—is still hanging around, b-breathing fire and s-s-smoke.”
“But you’re about to hose him down, right?”
Adam put his head back and laughe
d aloud, something she’d never seen him do before. “I hope so,” he said, still chuckling. “I really hope so.”
After she said goodbye to his parents and Tim and Theresa, Adam walked her to her car in the almost-dark. “The days are definitely shorter,” Phoebe said, out of nervousness as much as anything else. “In June, when we’ve got the whole summer ahead, it’s always hard to remember that the longest day is that month, and then the balance starts shifting back.”
He took the keys she was fumbling with, punched the button to unlock the car, then opened the door. “You p-pay a lot of attention to the…what?…the n-natural world.”
“I’m a throwback, I think. A farm dweller in a family of urbanites. My parents never understood my fondness for dirt and mud and sunlight.” She couldn’t help a sigh as she remembered. “And they never let me keep the animals I brought home.”
“Their m-mistake.” His fingertips under her chin tipped her face up to his. “Th-thanks for c-coming today, Phoebe. I know how much effort this was. P-pretending to be my fiancée in front of my family really is above and beyond the call of duty.”
Was he reminding her, in case she’d forgotten? “I told you, I’m glad to help.” She couldn’t seem to escape from his hold, gentle as it was. But she didn’t have to look at him.
“And I’m glad for everything you have to give.” His voice was low, husky. The kiss began as a light brush of his mouth over hers, back and forth until she nearly whimpered with her need for more. He closed his teeth on her lower lip and played for a moment, before soothing the tiny bite with his tongue. Helplessly, Phoebe curled her fingers in his shirt and let him take whatever he wanted.
Full darkness fell before he lifted his head. They were both breathing hard, stiff with unsatisfied desire. Adam smoothed his shaking hands over Phoebe’s hair and managed a step back. “I d-didn’t intend to g-get so c-carried away.”
She sighed and opened her eyes. “I know.” With a look around, as if to get her bearings, she stepped to the side and dropped into the seat of her car. “Good night, Adam.”
“D-drive safely. C-call me when you get home so I’ll know everything’s okay at your p-place.”
She stared up at him for a few seconds, but he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. “Sure,” she said finally. He stepped back, and in another minute she was putt-putting away into the night.
He said a brisk goodbye to his family, refusing even to come inside the front door. If he had, the same old arguments would have been trotted out, and he didn’t have the patience tonight. Maybe he never would again. His mother stood back from the doorway, very regal, very unreachable in her isolation. Adam didn’t consider stepping in for a kiss.
At his house, he checked the answering machine while waiting for Phoebe to call. Tommy had left six separate messages, all of which essentially amounted to “Call me.” Adam decided that Tommy could wait until the morning.
He stared at the clock, trying to imagine where on the road she would be at any given minute, until the phone rang. “I’m here,” Phoebe said. She sounded tired. “No problems—horses are fine, dogs and cats are asleep, windows still boarded up.”
“G-good.” He sat on the side of the bed. “I was b-beginning to worry.”
There was a silence. “I stopped for gas so I wouldn’t have to bother about it on the way into work tomorrow morning.”
“M-makes sense.” He hated to let her go. But he knew how lousy he was to talk to on the phone. “Sl-sleep w-w-well.”
“You, too.” Another pause. “’Night, Adam.”
“’N-night.” And still they couldn’t seem to hang up. “I’ll s-see you T-Tuesday for my appointment.”
“Right.” With a gentle click, the phone on her end disconnected. Adam did the same and dropped back on the bed to stare at the ceiling.
Phoebe. His speech therapist. His counterfeit fiancée. His friend. A woman who lived in the country with horses and cats. And, worst of all, dogs. The situation couldn’t get much more complicated. Unless he fell in love with her.
But Adam had the feeling that worrying about that now was—in a phrase Phoebe would appreciate—like closing the barn door after the horse has gone.
PHOEBE MET HER FRIEND and farrier Jacquie Archer for breakfast at the diner Monday morning. “I hate to ask you for another favor….”
Her friend grinned. “But…”
“Can you feed the horses for me tonight? By the time I finish at the office, I won’t have time to run out, get all hot and sweaty, then clean up and come back into town.”
“No problem. Erin and I love to visit with your bunch, don’t we, sweetie?”
“Yep.” At thirteen, Jacquie’s daughter Erin was still an elf of a girl, with dark hair and eyes and a pixie face. She loved to ride and stuck like a burr to the back of the flightiest horse. Even Cristal couldn’t dislodge Erin Archer.
“Thanks so much. Be sure to let me return the favor.”
“I will.” Jacquie flipped her long blond braid behind her shoulder and took a sip of coffee. “So, is this a date you’ve got scheduled? You and your fiancé slipping off for a romantic evening together?”
“Oh, of course.” Phoebe had trusted Jacquie with the truth about her engagement to Adam, knowing it would go no further. “I only wish. I’m going to his mother’s house tonight for a meeting of the Stargazer Fundraiser committee.”
“Say again?”
She explained about the dinner dance. “Mrs. DeVries didn’t leave me much room to say no. And I really don’t mind, except that I have a feeling it’s going to be an opportunity to put me in my place.”
“A woman’s place is on a horse,” Erin commented.
Phoebe sighed. “I wish that’s where I could be tonight.”
Instead, she spent quite a lot of time in the bathroom after work, twisting her hair into a smooth chignon, cleaning her face and reapplying all her makeup. She wore one of her favorite dresses, a high-waisted black floral print in soft cotton, with long sleeves and a hem that nearly reached the floor. A silver and black crystal necklace filled in above the neckline, and she wore dangling earrings to match. The ensemble gave her confidence.
Until, that is, Cynthia DeVries opened the door to her home and Phoebe got a glimpse of the women inside. There appeared to be a uniform dress code—khaki slacks or skirt, oxford-cloth shirt or a knit sweater set, and some kind of leather slide shoe on feet obviously tanned at the beach. Gold jewelry and diamonds glinted in ears, on fingers, at the base of the throat. Hair was shoulder length at the longest, shiny and dark or expertly tinted in shades of honey, gold and silver. Phoebe suddenly felt like a country mouse—completely out of her element, a sensation she hadn’t experienced since she left Atlanta.
She took a deep breath as she crossed the threshold. What a long evening this would be.
Fortunately, there were friendly faces in the crowd. Across the living room, Kate Bowdrey stood with her sister Mary Rose Mitchell and Kate’s soon-to-be grandmother-in-law, Miss Daisy Crawford. Grateful that someone else had claimed Cynthia DeVries’s attention, Phoebe made her way to her friends.
“I’m so glad to see you.” She hugged Kate and gave the other two women a smile. “But don’t you have a million things to do before the wedding?”
“A million and one,” Mary Rose confirmed. “But Dixon mentioned you would be here, and so we thought we’d make sure you had moral support.”
“Dixon?” Which meant Adam had asked him to send in reinforcements. Thoughtful, but…a bit managerial. “Well, I’m glad to see you all. How are you, Miss Daisy?”
“Never better. I’m so thrilled about this wedding I can hardly sleep.” She put an arm around Kate’s waist and squeezed. “I lost my daughter so many years ago, and now I’ve finally got another one. And grandchildren, to boot.”
They were chatting about the wedding details, enjoying the punch and cookies in the dining room, when one of the uniformed women joined them. “Well, hello there, Kate. Mary Ros
e. And Miss Daisy—what a pleasure to see you.” She leaned down to place a kiss on both of the older woman’s smooth cheeks. Then she turned to Phoebe. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Jessica Hyde. My husband is the district attorney.”
Phoebe shook the perfectly manicured hand offered her. “I’m Phoebe Moss.”
“Adam DeVries’s fiancée?”
Strange as it seemed. “Yes, that’s right.”
Jessica gave her a long look up and down. “How nice. Miss Cynthia dragged you into her fundraising frenzy, did she?”
“I thought a dance under the stars sounded like fun. And it’s a good cause.”
“Of course.” Jessica turned her head as if she’d accomplished her business and had no reason to stay. “Thanks to all of you for coming.” Turning on one stacked, Brazilian leather heel, she drifted across the room and joined another group of similarly groomed women.
Mary Rose muttered an unkind word under her breath. “That woman should be taken down a peg or two.”
“When Adam wins, she will be,” Kate said optimistically. “I imagine Jimmy Hyde will have a hard time getting his way with Adam as mayor.”
“Next election, we’ll get somebody honest to run against Jimmy for D.A.” Miss Daisy’s blue eyes narrowed in concentration.
“Who would take on Jimmy Hyde?” Mary Rose asked. “He’ll be tough to beat.”
“Well, Adam can’t be the last honest man in New Skye,” Dixon’s grandmother insisted. “So we’ll just have to find someone else. Maybe I’ll talk Dixon into running for office.”
“Oh, my stars.” Kate gasped with laughter. “I can see his reaction now!”
“He’s not a lawyer,” Mary Rose reminded them. “You need a lawyer for D.A.”
“Ladies, ladies, take your seats, please.” Cynthia DeVries stood in front of the marble-faced fireplace. “We must begin our business meeting.”
The committees for the fundraiser had already been established, and each chairperson stood to make a report. Jessica Hyde headed up the decoration committee. Kate and Mary Rose were working on invitations, while Miss Daisy solicited sponsorships from area businesses. Entertainment, Parking, CleanUp and a number of other divisions of labor discussed plans and progress. Once they’d all finished, Cynthia glanced in Phoebe’s direction.
The Last Honest Man Page 13
