The Dixie Virgin Chronicles: Bea (Book 4)
Page 15
Has it occurred to anybody that Mr. Right DID come back, and that Bea is having so much fun turning VIRGINIA loose, that we’re not even on her RADAR? Tell me it’s so, Bea, and tell ALL!!!!!
Joanna
From: Bea
To: Molly, Clemmie, Catherine, Janet, Belinda, Joanna
Re: I’M MARRIED!!!!!
Russ came back and we got married in the craziest little ceremony I’ll tell you all about when I see you. We honeymooned in a little hotel called PARADISE!!! How cool is that!!! (No details, Joanna. You’ll find out for yourself one of these days.)
Confession: I was all set to break Rule Four, but Russ saved me from myself!
We traded his pickup and my ancient Jag for a nice, sturdy station wagon in Hot Springs. He wants plenty of kids and I do, too. We’ll be living in Florida, and yes, Janet, this wonderful man has a future planned. He’s going to buy another citrus grove and I’m going to turn in my resignation to the witch from hell, pack up my apartment, and help Russ run his business. What could be more perfect!!! With his knowledge of citrus groves and mine in advertising, we’ll make quite a team.
Another confession, we make quite a team already! And I’m talking sex here. If my husband makes Virginia any hotter, it’s going to spontaneously combust!
We’re at a little picnic spot now, on the way to Dallas. I’ll let you know when we get to Florida. We’ll have some sort of formal reception. Mother didn’t get to see either one of her children get married, and she’s itching to throw a big shindig!
Bea
Bea closed her email and headed toward the bathroom while Russ spread their picnic lunch. Like many bathrooms in remote places, it was dark and dingy – and something was whimpering in the semi-gloom.
In a far corner of the bathroom, huddled under the sink were two mongrel puppies, their hair matted and their skin stretched over jutting bones.
“Oh, you poor darlings.” She bent over them, petting and soothing both at the same time. “Whose puppies are you? Where did you come from?”
They snuffled and sniffled, and when Bea stood up, they followed her. Every step she took, they took, too.
“Poor little waifs. Poor little orphans.”
She gathered them up in her arms and carried them outside to Russ.
“Guess what, darling?”
He turned and saw the squirming bundle in her arms.
“What do you have, Bea?”
“I’ve already made you a father.” She came close and handed him one of the puppies. “Aren’t they precious?”
“With a little tender loving care, they will be.”
Bea thought he was nearly as happy over the puppies as he had been over their wedding. He had given her a glass diamond and she had given him stray puppies, but both had been gifts straight from the heart.
The puppies ate most of the lunch, with Bea and Russ watching and laughing. Then the four of them loaded into the station wagon and set out for Dallas. They stopped at the nearest store and purchased puppy food, two plastic bowls and two small collars.
“I’ll take them to the vet as soon as we’re in Dallas,” he said.
Since most motels refused to let puppies into the room, Bea and Russ found a camping spot and he set up the tent.
That night Bea got to find out what it was like to sleep in Russ’s sleeping bag. Snug against him, she felt more cherished than she’d ever felt in her life.
She loved the way they fit together, just right, and the way his beard tickled her, and the way his voice became musical when he murmured words of love to her. A storm began to brew outside their tent, but she barely notice because of the one brewing inside. For a long while, nothing existed for her except Russ and feelings so new and exciting, she saw now why she had made Rule Four. Even in her innocence, she’d somehow know that the best things are worth waiting for.
And at last, when he had pulled her close and she could hear the even sound of his breathing, she fell asleep.
It stormed during the night, but Bea slept through the crash of thunder and the crack of lightning, safe and secure in Russ’s arms.
When they woke up the next morning, their new station wagon was mired in the mud so deep they couldn’t move it. The two of them set to work to free the station wagon.
“Try it again, Bea!” Russ yelled. She was in the driver’s seat and he was behind, pushing.
She stomped down on the accelerator. The tires spun, slinging mud onto his boots and the legs of his jeans.
“I think it’s hopeless, Russ,” she called.
“Nothing’s hopeless, Bea. Not since I married you.”
He gathered pine boughs to make a ramp for the sunken tires, and soon the station wagon was out of the mire and onto firmer ground. Together they started loading their camping gear.
“You should see your face, Russ. Mud all over.”
“Where?”
“Here. And here. And here.” She showed him all the places, standing with her legs planted between his, and soon they got sidetracked.
“Hmm,” he said as he kissed her. “Now you should see yours.”
The situation called for a bath, so they took their towels to a secluded stream in the woods and bathed. They got sidetracked again, and by the time they came out of the stream, clean and shining and happy, it was time to eat lunch.
They whistled and called their two new puppies, Pearcy and Florence, named for the places that had brought them together. The puppies were nowhere in sight.
“Poor little tykes,” Russ said. “I guess all that commotion getting the car out of the mud scared them.”
“I thought they were asleep in the tent.”
“I did, too.”
Hand in hand, Bea and Russ searched for their lost pets. Within twenty minutes, they had found them. Both puppies sat at attention on their skinny haunches, their sharp little teeth bared and their ears stiff with excitement.
“What in the world is going on?” Bea said. “Florence, come here.”
Florence grandly ignored her. So did Pearcy. They growled to show their fierceness, and kept their vigil at a small redbud tree.
“I think I see the problem.” Russ went to the tree and reached into the branches. He came out with a bedraggled kitten. “Who has left you behind, little fellow?”
The kitten studied him with eyes that looked too big in his scrawny face, then he turned on his motor and began to purr so loudly, Russ and Bea laughed.
“That’s a big sound for such a small cat,” Bea said.
“What do you expect from the Hammond pets? We have nothing but the biggest and the best.” Russ smoothed the kitten’s damp, tangled fur. The purring got louder. “Bea, I think Dallas likes me. In fact, I may be his favorite person in the whole world.”
“I wouldn’t doubt that a minute. You’re my favorite person in the whole world.”
Soon the five of them were on their way once more to Dallas. Russ was driving with Pearcy curled up next to his leg, snoring and dreaming of chasing rabbits. Florence was crumpled on top of Bea’s feet, twitching her ears and thinking of pimento sandwiches. And little Dallas was perched on Bea’s shoulder, looking back the way they had come and thanking her lucky stars she’d found these new people, especially the big one with the tickly beard. Bea was smiling so widely she thought she must look foolish. But she didn’t care. She had Russ and three fine pets. What more could a woman want?
They arrived in Dallas without further misadventure, and spent a week there setting Bea’s affairs in order. She took only her personal things with her—her clothes, an album of family pictures and her favorite books.
“Are you sure this is all you want to take, Bea?”
Her belongings were piled on the sidewalk, three suitcases, two boxes and her briefcase. She hadn’t realized until she saw them spread out that way how little she had that was important to her. It was as if she had purposely kept her life bare of treasured possessions for fear they would somehow vanish.
“You remember when
we used to say how different we were, Russ?”
“It seems so long ago.”
“I don’t think we were so different, after all. Everything I have that’s important to me, I can fit in the back seat of the car.”
“I believe I’m too big for the trunk, Bea. And how about Florence and Pearcy and Dallas? They might smother.”
She buried her hands in his beard and pulled his face close enough for a kiss.
“I’m not talking about you, you big wonderful rambling man. I’m talking about things.”
“Things? Who needs them?”
They set out for Florida on a bright sunshiny day, with their pets on the second seat, fatter now and content and not at all fearful of being abandoned, sleeping cuddled together in a tight ball so that it was hard to tell where one left off and the other began. Bea sat snuggled close to Russ, listening to him hum along to an old country ballad on the radio.
A month ago, she would never have dreamed she could love country music. Or that she would be sleeping through thunderstorms. But most of all, she’d never dreamed of being married and on her way to start a brand new life.
When they arrived in LaBelle, Florida, where the sky was so blue it hurt their eyes and the cabbage trees swayed in the breeze and the Caloosahatchee River meandered lazily alongside Highway 80 and the air was sweet with the smell of citrus blossoms, Bea and Russ knew that they had come home.
He drove her through the small town, pointing out the historic Henry County Courthouse and the corner grocery and the big white Baptist church. They stopped long enough for gas and refreshments; then Russ headed out of town, northwest, toward the groves.
Citrus groves dotted the land like confetti. Row after row of fruit trees marched alongside the road in strict formation. Bea pressed her face to the window, for she knew she was seeing more than citrus groves. She was seeing her future.
Russ turned onto a gravel road and parked between a row of lemon trees. Yellow-and-green fruit hung from the branches, and the air was sharp and sweet with the smell of ripening citrus.
Russ helped Bea from the car and stood with his arm around her waist.
“Bea, I want you to see what a citrus grove looks like. I want you to touch the leaves, to smell the fruit, to feel the rich earth underneath your feet.”
She reached out and caught a waxy green leaf between her fingers. Even after she plucked it off she could still feel the flow of life through the tiny leaf.
“It gets awfully hot down here, and we don’t have any winter to speak of. Sometimes you think the mosquitoes are going to carry you off, and you might get sick of the sweet smell of citrus.”
He paused, looking out across the grove. Then he turned back to her.
“There will be bad years when the crops will be diseased or when an unexpected freeze destroys crops and trees alike. It won’t be an easy living, Bea. I’ll have to buy a grove, get established in the business all over again. In fact, there will be some lean times.”
“Are you trying to talk me out of living in Florida?” She smiled at him.
“No. I just want you to know what it will be like. If you have any doubts, tell me now and we’ll go somewhere else.” He tipped her face up with his index finger. “I’m willing to live anywhere, Bea, as long as you’re there.”
“You love it down here, don’t you, Russ?”
“One of the best times of my life was when I walked through my groves and felt a piece of earth beneath my feet and knew it was mine.” He circled his thumb on her chin. “Yes, Bea. I love it.”
“Then, Russ Hammond, here I am, and here I will stay.”
Much, much later, after they’d checked into a motel that allowed pets and Russ had welcomed her to Florida properly and then fallen asleep on their tumbled bed, Bea powered up her email.
From: Bea
To: Molly, Clemmie, Janet, Belinda, Joanna, Catherine
Re: Arrival
We are in Florida and I have finally come home!
Bea
Without waiting for a reply, she turned off her email and then snuggled beside her husband, who immediately roused and wrapped his arms around her.
“Welcome home, Mrs. Hammond.” His voice was sleepy and sexy and utterly sincere. “Now and forever.”
- The End-
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While Carrie Bradshaw was looking for Sex in the City, the Dixie Virgins were looking for love, marriage and a baby carriage! Sassy, funny and charming, The Dixie Virgin Chronicles is a seven-book series that follows the feisty, independent women who met at a summer camp for girls, and live by the rule Never let the boys from Camp Geronimo get close enough to see your Virginia. Get all seven books!
The Dixie Virgin Chronicles: Belinda (Book One)
The Dixie Virgin Chronicles: Janet (Book Two)
The Dixie Virgin Chronicles: Molly (Book Three)
The Dixie Virgin Chronicles: Bea (Book Four)
The Dixie Virgin Chronicles: Clemmie (Book Five)
The Dixie Virgin Chronicles: Joanna (Book Six)
The Dixie Virgin Chronicles: Catherine (Book Seven)
o0o
Book Five Excerpt - The Dixie Virgin Chronicles: Clementine
Peggy Webb
Prologue
From: Clemmie (Clementine@yahoo.com)
To: Molly, Bea, Janet, Belinda, Joanna, Catherine
Re: Old Maid
I’m having a hard time not thinking of myself as an old maid. Tomorrow I’ll be twenty-five! If Mr. Right ever does come to Peppertown, Virginia will be too old to do anything about it! Still, I’m making a cake, complete with candles! I was thinking of giving myself a surprise party, but with my brothers away at college and all of you scattered, I’m going to have a big celebration for one. And I’m going to be as decadent as it’s possible be in this one-horse town. I might even eat cake naked!
Hugs,
Clemmie
From: Janet (Janet@aol.com)
To: Clemmie, Bea, Molly, Belinda, Joanna, Catherine
Re: Birthday wishes!
If I weren’t on the Mississippi Gulf Coast at a medical convention, I’d be there with bells on! Dan and the doggies are here, too. They’re having a fabulous time romping on the beach while I’m stuck in meetings.
I just had a wonderful thought! Why don’t you see if one of your boarders will watch after things a day or two while you drive down here? I’ll book you a room next to ours! My treat, Clemmie! Do come!
XO
Janet
From: Bea (bea@bellsouth.net)
To: Clemmie, Janet, Catherine, Molly, Belinda, Joanna
Re: Hit the road!
Happy, happy birthday, Clemmie! Grab Janet’s offer! I’ll bet the Gulf Coast is crawling with hunks! If you find one, go ahead and break Rule Four! Listen, it’s your birthday! Virginia deserves a celebration, too!
If I weren’t so busy I’d drive across and join you. I’m covered up – and you can take that every way you want! I highly recommend marriage, and especially sex!!! Of course, I’m busy outside the bedroom, too. Russ and I bought a citrus grove that has a wonderful, rambling old house on the property. It’s big enough for both dogs and the cat and as many children as we decide to have. He wants to start trying for a family right away, but I’m holding out for lots of practice first!
Actually, I’m also launching a fabulous advertising campaign for Russ and trying to redecorate the house. Molly, I wish you were here to help! I’m hopeless with colors and can’t decide between peach and yellow for the den of pleasures. That’s the bedroom, in case you didn’t know!
Hugs,
Bea
From: Molly (molly@hotmail.com)
To: Clemmie, Bea, Catherine, Joanna, Belinda, Janet
Re: Your Birthday!
Doing a happy dance for you, Clemmie! And you are NOT an old maid! Good grief, you’re in your prime! There is the cutest guy helping me get the art gallery ready for the grand opening – a carpenter who wears this tool belt hip slung over his
tight jeans. SEXY!!!
OMG, just listen to me! Naturally, he doesn’t hold a candle to SAM, the most incredibly scrumptious man in the whole wide world!!! Still, Clemmie, if you could come to Florence, I’d introduce you!
Bea, paint the den of pleasures red! There’s this really gorgeous shade called Ming. If passion had a color, that’s what it would be! You want Russ to get hot every time he walks through the door!!!
Much love,
Molly
From: Joanna (joanna@hotmail.com)
To: Clemmie, Bea, Janet, Belinda, Catherine, Molly
Re: Birthday Toast
CLEMMIE!!! I’m toasting you and your Virginia by drinking champagne from a gold sequined evening pump!!! Do hire somebody to look after the boarding house for a week and COME TO MADRID! My guardian will be more than happy to get you a ticket. We’ll have a BLAST!
Besides, I’m DYING for one of the Dixie Virgins to meet Fernando. I’M IN LOVE!!! Janet, before you get your panties in a wad, he’s not a bullfighter. He’s this really cool, really HOT guy with an engineering degree and A CUTE BUTT! I’m thinking of breaking Rule Four!!! But don’t tell Kirk!
BIG HUGS!
Joanna
From: Catherine
To: Clemmie, Joanna, Belinda, Molly, Bea, Janet
Re: Celebrate
Clemmie, sweetie, pull out all the stops. You deserve it! Eat naked, dance naked, just don’t cook the cake naked. Grease might pop out and ruin Virginia. Get some champagne, too. Forget the shoe! Drink it from a condom!
Joanna, do NOT break Rule Four, especially not with a foreign guy you barely know!!! OMG, sweetie, don’t you know STD is rampant! Besides, every one of us swore we’d never give away for free what a man ought to have to slave for!
XOXO
Cat
From: Janet
To: Joanna, Bea, Molly, Catherine, Clemmie, Belinda