Reece

by Lori Wilde

  The last three years he’d been so busy taking care of the business he’d had no time for a social life. So perhaps it was natural for him to react this way to an attractive female, no matter how mismatched they were.

  Well, he would rectify that situation. It was about time he started on his five-year plan. All he had to do was meet the perfect woman—a conventional hometown girl whose worst personality quirk consisted of leaving her delicates drying on the shower rod—fall in love, marry her, and produce two-point-three well-behaved children.

  Tonight, by appearing in public with a woman other than his mother, he’d be letting Bliss’ eligible bachelorettes know that Reece Masardi was now available and dating.

  Still, when he remembered what Lanie had said about meeting some of the local men tonight, he clenched his teeth and stuffed the tissue in his pocket.

  “Come on,” he growled. “Maybe we can make it in time for dessert.”

  12

  Lanie followed him into the crowded civic-center-turned-banquet-hall. So now he was back to being moody. She’d known he wasn’t exactly happy about the mouse incident, and even less so about the irate property owner.

  But he’d mellowed for a moment. That moment when he’d looked at her, his expression soft and gentle, she’d thought they would make peace.

  Maybe it was best, she decided as they took their places near Dot and Walter. Each time Reece had become Mr. Nice Guy, she’d weakened and rashly allowed herself to indulge in feeling pleasure at his closeness, his touch, his kiss.

  With any luck, he’d remain cool and aloof, and she wouldn’t need to wrestle with her impetuous nature.

  “It’s about time,” Dot said as Lanie slid onto the hard metal folding chair beside her. “Where have y’all been? In the hayloft?” She reached across Lanie and removed the vine from her son’s hair. “Looks like you’ve been making more than googly eyes. I hope you used protection.”

  Heads turned at the loudly spoken words, and several folks smiled behind their hands.

  “Mother!” Reece glared at Dot. It was a look that would have sent a lesser person cowering. “The only ‘protection’ we needed was bulletproof vests. Lanie and I are late because we were chased by a man with a gun.”

  Lanie heard a collective intake of breaths. Reece had spoken loud enough for all those around them to hear his explanation. Lanie wasn’t sure whether he did it more to protect her virtue or to deny any romantic involvement with her.

  “Maybe you should report it to the sheriff,” someone suggested.

  “Where did it happen?” Walter asked.

  A woman from the local church group that was providing the meal placed a plate in front of Lanie. Reece waited for her to serve him before answering.

  “Down Thirteen Curves Road, about three miles off Sanderson Road. You know, the old Clemson place.”

  “Serves you right,” Dot insisted. “You ought to know better than to go necking on someone else’s property.”

  Lanie laughed out loud. “Dot, you do have the wildest imagination.”

  Reece, however, didn’t appear amused. “I’m past the age of reporting my whereabouts to my mother,” he told her through gritted teeth. “But since you seem intent on ruining Lanie’s reputation, I will tell you that we were freeing a mouse she’d trapped.”

  “Hah!” Dot downed the last of her coffee and turned to Lanie. “And you say I have a wild imagination.”

  Dessert was served before the conversation could go from bad to worse. Lanie gave thanks for small blessings. Dot had turned her attention back to Walter and was now giggling like a young girl.

  Lanie toyed with the remainder of her pie. “Your mother and Walter make a cute couple.”

  Reece’s only reply was a halfhearted grunt.

  “I thought you liked Walter.”

  He leaned back and stretched his arm across the back of her chair. “Yeah. Walter’s a good man. It’s just that ever since he and Mom started seeing each other, she’s been trying to get me to start dating again.” His eyes caught hers and held them captive for a moment. He averted his attention to the blue flowers adorning the edge of his dessert plate. “I’m sorry she embarrassed you. Just chalk it up to wishful thinking on her part.”

  Wishful thinking? Lanie had no idea why Dot would wish her on Reece. Weren’t mothers supposed to protect their young? A glance at Reece’s large frame and scowling countenance discounted any notion that he needed protecting. If anything needed protecting, it was Lanie’s heart.

  “Oh, I wasn’t embarrassed.”

  He quirked an eyebrow at Lanie.

  “Well, not much. I consider it a compliment that she likes me well enough to try her hand at matchmaking.”

  He smiled at her, and Lanie snapped a mental picture. Though she knew she shouldn’t, she tucked the image away in her heart’s treasure chest. A friend, Lanie reminded herself. It’s okay to cherish a friend’s smile.

  Mr. Tighe, the banker who sat opposite Reece, commented on the recent spate of good weather, and the two were soon discussing the farmers’ economic situation. She turned to Dot, who was listing for Walter the merits of her new automobile.

  “It’s a pretty car,” Lanie noted.

  Dot winked and nudged Lanie with her elbow. “Actually, it’s a little too extravagant for my taste, but I was hoping that Maurice would learn to like it. Maybe then he’d loosen up a little and stop acting like an old codger.” Dot beamed with self-satisfaction. “From the looks of things when you two came in tonight, it must have worked, huh?”

  Walter slipped his hand into Dot’s and squeezed her fingers. “Honey, if you want to be a mother-in-law someday, you need to practice being discreet.”

  Lanie distractedly folded and refolded her napkin. “I hate to disappoint you, but Reece was telling the truth about the mouse.” Then she described catching the mouse in her wastebasket and setting it free on posted property. By the time she finished telling the incident, Walter was grinning broadly, and Dot was wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

  “I believe you,” she said. “There’s no way you could make up a story as cornball as that and still keep a straight face. Elaine, my dear, Maurice needs someone like you. You keep things hopping.”

  Lanie sighed. Why couldn’t she lead a normal, peaceful life like everyone else? She chanced a look at Reece and saw that two other businessmen had joined in the conversation. The four were carrying on a lively debate about the proposed highway’s expected impact on the county. When Lanie realized she’d shredded her paper napkin, she placed the bits on the table and folded her hands in her lap.

  “That’s exactly why it would never work out between Reece and me,” Lanie said. “Every day there’s a new disaster waiting for me to walk into it. Reece, on the other hand, has complete control over everything in his life. I’ll bet he even lays out his clothes each night and makes a list of things he plans to accomplish the next day.”

  “You’re right. The boy’s hopeless.” Dot wiped her mouth and set the napkin on the table. “But he wasn’t always that way. Why, I was just telling Walter the other day how Maurice used to tease his daddy and me.

  But shortly after Albert started forgetting things, Maurice stopped being playful. It was as if seeing his daddy lose control of his behavior made him that much more determined to keep strict control over his own life.”

  Reece’s back was still turned to them. Lanie enjoyed the rise and fall of his voice as he interjected his comments into the conversation with his friends.

  She felt a twinge of guilt over hearing Dot’s intimate revelations about him. Even so, she was glad Dot had told her.

  Now she understood why Reece had reacted so vehemently to her letting Winnie in the house, and why he had criticized her unusual mousetrap. Her unorthodox ways forced him to confront his own, hidden personality—the one he ran away from.

  Dot’s disclosure also explained Reece’s abrupt mood changes. Lanie recalled the few times he’d let her glimpse his
playful, little-boy side. Then suddenly, he’d reverted to his cool, restrained persona. And in doing so, he’d kept her a safe arm’s length away.

  “You’re good for him, Elaine,” Dot continued. “He’s smiled more since you came than he has in the last three years.”

  Someone blew on a microphone. Lanie recognized the man at the speaker’s podium as Mr. Morrison from the Board of Supervisors meeting. Still preoccupied with her newfound knowledge about Reece, she only half listened as he introduced himself and talked about the history of Bliss County.

  Lanie remembered the way Reece’s eyes had glittered with excitement when he’d recounted his days of teenage mischief. Tonight, that piece of the puzzle slid snugly into place.

  Obviously, his father’s illness had made an enormous impact on his life. Reece had chosen to reform himself and take a more responsible route in life. That explained why he disliked Lanie’s dingbatty impulsiveness.

  Mr. Morrison proceeded with a lengthy discourse on the accomplishments of various members of the community.

  Reece had been right. And now, more than ever, Lanie concurred with him that anything more than simple friendship would be an impossibility.

  Lanie almost snickered at the irony of that last thought. Mere friendship with Reece would be anything but simple.

  “…and in addition to all his other accomplishments,” Mr. Morrison concluded, “I understand that he recently saved the life of a young child. Let’s hear it for Bliss County’s Man of the Year—Reece Masardi!”

  Everyone clapped as Reece wound his way to the head table. Some people cheered, and whistles could be heard from all corners of the room.

  Amidst the flashing of camera lights, Mr. Morrison handed him a plaque. Reece stood patiently until the hullabaloo died down. Lanie thought he looked embarrassed by all the attention.

  “I’m surprised,” he said quietly. He held the award away from him and silently read the inscription. He shifted his weight and gazed out at the attentive faces in the audience. “Of all the folks in Bliss County, I can think of many who deserve this more than I do. Just like Mr. Morrison mentioned, I’ve given some of you farmers interest-free credit. But in just the past couple of years you’ve given me far more. And I thank you for that.” His voice shook slightly, and Lanie felt a lump rise to her throat. Reece held the plaque in front of him for everyone to see. “I thank you for this.”

  Once again, the crowd burst into applause. Lanie clapped until her hands felt raw. She reached over and hugged a misty-eyed Dot.

  “That’s my boy,” Dot said, her voice cracking with emotion.

  Mr. Morrison approached the podium to signal the end of Reece’s acceptance speech. But Reece stayed.

  “There is one thing I’d like to clarify,” Reece said, his composure now firmly back in place. “About a month ago, Karl Wertzle’s little boy was almost trampled by one of their dairy cows.”

  He turned and fixed his attention on Lanie’s corner of the room. Lanie grew warm as realization dawned on her. She wished she could slide under the table and hide. Her eyes met his, and she implored him not to do it, but to no avail.

  “Lanie, would you come up here?” he said.

  Her cheeks burning, she reluctantly rose and met him at the podium. To her surprise, he laid his arm familiarly around her shoulders.

  “If it hadn’t been for Lanie Weatherford’s quick thinking and heroic actions, I wouldn’t have been able to get to Weasel in time. I think Lanie’s the one who deserves your applause.”

  Karl and Lou Wertzle led the crowd to their feet.

  Lanie forced a smile, but she felt like a fraud. There had been nothing “heroic” about pulling Number Twelve’s tail to distract the animal. The act had been pure impulse, without a single thought to its consequences. Another Zany Lanie stunt. She didn’t like the idea of being applauded for acting on a character flaw.

  She moved out of Reece’s grasp, and he followed her back to their table. A brash man in an ill-fitting suit called out, “Hey, Reece, I hear you’re in favor of this highway thing so you can go up on your prices. You stand to make a bundle, don’t you?”

  Unriled, Reece responded, “If the plans are approved, Bliss will see a considerable population growth. I’d like to turn that to the farmer’s advantage, Ed. We’ll raise prices slightly on home and lawn products so that local farmers can buy at a reduced price.” He shot a broad smile at Lanie. “Miss Weatherford here will be setting up the new pricing system. So, when you come in to order your seed, just talk to Lanie, and she’ll see that you get your discount. And don’t forget to vote yes on the highway issue.”

  In a most unladylike reaction, Lanie’s jaw dropped. How dare he drag her into such a scheme! Now it looked like she supported the proposed highway.

  The look she shot him told him exactly what she thought.

  13

  If looks could kill, Reece would have been a dead man. Of all the times in her life when she’d embarrassed herself, Lanie couldn’t remember ever having been more humiliated. Nor had she ever been so cleverly manipulated.

  To make matters worse, the local newspaper ran both a print and online article that stated that “the Stop the Highway campaign may have derailed when outspoken opponent Lanie Weatherford switched tracks in a surprise move Friday night.”

  Lanie leaned forward in her swivel chair and propped her elbows on the newspaper spread open on her desk. Her head in her hands, she closed her eyes and tried to think of a way to correct the error before Tuesday night when the Board of Supervisors would hold its referendum.

  But, unfortunately, the weekly paper wouldn’t hit the stands again until the day after the referendum.

  Idly, she turned the page and saw her name yet again. This article was topped with a picture of Lanie as she stood beside Reece at the podium. The piece consisted mostly of Karl Wertzle’s account of Weasel’s rescue.

  Lanie remembered telling the reporter that her part in it had been blown out of proportion. In print, the statement made her appear modest. She frowned. Lanie certainly didn’t mind taking credit when it was due, but Karl’s glowing portrayal of the event made her uncomfortable.

  Over still another story, the headline declared Man of Year Chased by Gunman.

  It must have been a slow week for news, Lanie thought as she finished glancing through the twelve-page paper. The other articles covered the highway debate and the events of the Bliss Festival being held this week.

  As she scanned through the festival schedule of animal judging, craft exhibits, parade, carnival, and dance, Lanie came up with the perfect idea for urging folks to vote against the highway. She smiled as she closed the paper.

  A light knock sounded on the office door. Lanie turned to see Reece smiling at her. She didn’t smile back. Since he’d made a fool of her at the awards banquet, she’d been polite and businesslike. Nothing more.

  “Elgin Thurloe is here to see you,” he said, laughter glittering in his warm brown eyes. He stepped aside to allow a burly mountain of a man into the small room.

  Lanie sucked in her breath. Instinct told her to dive for cover, but Reece seemed unintimidated by the man’s presence. She settled for pressing her fingertips indelibly into the chair’s seat edge. Unconsciously, she made ready for a quick escape if he should lunge at her.

  “May I help you?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “I b’lieve this belongs to you.” The bearded man in coveralls pushed a pink wastebasket at her.

  “Wh-why, thank you.” She glanced up at Reece. He was still smiling as if he found it all amusing. “I’m sorry we trespassed on your property,” she said.

  “’at’s all right. I thought you was highway surveyors.” The gunman tugged at a fringe of beard on his chin. “So, when I read that story in the newspaper, I knew I had to bring you back your trash can, miss.” He turned to Reece. “If I’da known you was Man of the Year, I’da shook your hand.”

  Lanie set the wastebasket on the f
loor. “Why did you think we were surveyors? The highway’s not supposed to come anywhere near your property.”

  The big man humped his shoulders. “Beats me. Y’all looked like city people, all dressed up and everything. Guess I just got nervous. My apologies for scaring you, miss. See ya, Reece.”

  Lanie stared after him as he left. “That’s amazing.”

  “That he returned your trash can?”

  “No,” Lanie joked. “That he reads the newspaper.”

  Reece chuckled. “Elgin has a college degree.”

  Lanie raised an eyebrow.

  “Animal husbandry. Anybody with a question about breeding goes to Elgin. He knows his stuff.”

  “If you knew the guy, why didn’t you stop him from shooting at us? We could have been killed!”

  Reece crossed his arms over his chest. Lanie’s gaze took in the sinewy strength of his muscular forearms. “If you expected me to stand there and argue with his gun,” he said, “you’ve got a lot more to learn than I thought.”

  Silently, she agreed. She did have a lot to learn. And the first was how to be in the same room with Reece without noticing the golden hue of his tan, the broad and powerful muscles that flexed with his every move, or those little crinkles at the corners of his eyes. Maybe, with enough practice, she could learn to ignore the way she felt whenever he was around.

  Saturday morning dawned bright and clear, without a hint of clouds. It was a perfect day for a parade.

  Using her best penmanship, Lanie printed Stop the Highway: Vote No on two poster boards. She colored the letters with a red, broad-tipped pen so the message would be visible from a distance. Then she connected the boards by stapling lengths of ribbon between them. Stepping back to examine the results, Lanie was satisfied it would be an eye-catcher.

  And just to make sure, she went to the dresser, pulled out her star-spangled shorts outfit, and put it on. The cuffed, red-and-white-striped shorts were topped by a clingy blue T-shirt with various sizes of white stars sprinkled across the front and back.