by Mae Nunn
Jessica didn’t flinch at the verbal blow. Drew winced in sympathy, his insides twisting with the revelation. The accident that had destroyed Jessica’s knee was the very one that had killed Amelia’s brother, Adam.
“I don’t have time for your insults,” Jessica replied. “Faith and I have people to visit backstage.”
“Maybe you need to make time.” Amelia wouldn’t let it drop. “I’m only saying what everybody’s thinking. How in the world could you let yourself go like this? And so soon?”
Jessica squared her shoulders and took a step closer. Amelia stepped back, reaching for the hand Drew had conveniently put in his pants pocket.
“Yes, I’ve ‘packed on the pounds,’ as you so astutely point out. I know you’re thrilled to finally have a legitimate reason to wag your tongue about me.” Jessica self-consciously smoothed her hands down the sides of full hips, her gaze searching his face. “However, a gentleman recently told me he likes curves on a woman.”
Amelia’s mouth popped open with a quick little gasp.
Jessica winked at Faith, who’d witnessed the confrontation through wide, confused eyes.
“And now I’m taking my new friend to meet my old friends. We’ll leave the two of you to reminisce.”
Drew watched as the two women navigated against the exiting crowd, hand in hand, carefully mounted the stage steps and disappeared behind the dark curtain. He turned a disappointed look toward Amelia.
“Was that really necessary?”
“You can’t be serious,” she snapped incredulously. “Do you have polite conversation with the drunk who killed your mother?” Amelia paused, pretending to consider her own question. “Oh, wait. That drunk is still locked up in prison, where he belongs. But Jessica Holliday is out socializing tonight.” She pressed a shaking hand over her heart. “You can’t honestly expect me to treat her kindly.”
He exhaled the breath he was holding, understanding too well the depth of her grief. “I suppose not, but you could at least show some restraint in front of all these people.”
“I am who I am, Drew. I don’t go with the crowd, and I seem to remember that was something you liked about me.” She leaned suggestively against his chest. “I remember there were other characteristics you appreciated, too.”
He put his hands on her bare shoulders and eased her upright. “That’s correct. There were many things I liked about you. Even some I thought I could love. But I’ve changed a great deal since then, so let’s not rush. We have plenty of time to explore our memories. Okay?”
“Okay.” Amelia tossed her long black hair over a bony shoulder and adjusted the thin strap of her sequined gown. She reached into her satin bag, located a small card and slipped it into his pocket. “Just don’t wait too long. We have a lot of lost time to make up.”
With that, she reached up and grasped his lapels, pulling his face down to hers. Then she kissed him roughly, a reminder of the past. She patted his breast pocket and smiled at the always-present lump of wintergreen candy.
“You haven’t changed a bit,” she purred, and made her way slowly up the aisle.
Enfolded in the curtain, Jessica watched. Flushed and warm from the pounding of her heart, she didn’t hear the laughter of the friends who entertained Faith. She only heard Drew tell Amelia Crockett that there were things about her he thought he could love.
Chapter Seven
“What do I care if the guy turned out to be a big meathead after all? He’s just a neighbor, for crying out loud.”
Shaded by an enormous maple, Jessica stood at her potting bench, a sharp spade in her gloved hand. Between muttered comments, she stabbed into a pungent bag of soil and filled a long row of red clay pots.
“But Amelia Crockett, of all people! If he had to be a fool over anyone, did it have to be her?”
Flipping a six-pack of periwinkles upside down, she squeezed the bottom of one small cup, roughly yanked out the delicate bloom and stuffed it into the waiting pot.
“Those must be hardier than they look.”
Jessica’s head snapped up at the sound of Drew’s voice. How long had he been within earshot?
“Excuse me?”
“Those little blue flowers. They must be able to take a lot of punishment.”
She watched his eyes travel from her bare feet up to the wrinkled shorts and the old baseball team T-shirt. The breeze caught runaway strands of her ponytail, whipping them softly across her face. She expected an annoyed reaction to her disheveled appearance, but warm cocoa eyes smiled back at her.
Realizing she was indeed crushing another innocent plant, she relaxed her grip. Using the back of a forearm she brushed hair out of her eyes.
“What are you doing here?” She should feel guilty about sounding rude, but she was justified this morning.
“I wanted to thank you again for last night. Faith had a great time. She’s been on the phone with Father twice this morning already. She can’t stop talking about it. You’ve really made this visit memorable for her.”
“Faith is adorable. She’s got spunk, she’s full of life and she’s sharper than some other people I know.” She glared at him over the last few words. “Besides, we have a lot in common. I could spend hours with her and never be bored. She’s a beautiful person.”
Something in his eyes softened. The quiet scrutiny unnerved her.
“So are you, Jessica.”
She stabbed out another well for the next periwinkle and wondered if this guy ever said anything she could trust. “Yeah, I felt real beautiful standing next to your girlfriend last night.”
“I’m sorry about that.” He picked up a spade and shoveled soil into the waiting pots. “I’d forgotten Amelia was prone to step on people’s feelings. I thought maturity would have changed things.”
She noticed that he didn’t correct the relationship reference.
“Oh, don’t apologize. She and I were practiced adversaries long before Adam’s death. I can handle it—not that I have any choice.” She paused, expelled a deep sigh and then resumed planting. “But you have a choice. Don’t let a neighborly friendship between us complicate things between you two lovers.”
She relaxed her scowl at the blossoms, slowly scanning upward from his trim waist, neatly pressed cotton shirt, freshly shaved face into dark eyes.
“You do love her, right?”
The question hung between them in the warm air.
“Scratch that,” she said apologetically. “It’s none of my business.”
“No, it’s okay. I owe you an explanation.” Drew tapped the spade against the bottom of his shoe and returned it to the workbench, positioned exactly as he’d found it.
“Amelia and I met during a spring break in New York City the year I graduated from West Point. She was a freshman at Wellesley. Thank heaven we were both smart enough to know we were too young for anything serious.”
“Well, you’re not too young anymore.”
“No, we’re not. And I’ll be honest with you, Jessica. Amelia is one of the reasons I moved to Atlanta. We were both brought up around politics and know what it takes to make it as a couple in the public eye. If I can work my way into state office, there’s so much good I can do for people like Faith, who have very few advocates.”
“Why here in Georgia? Why not in your home state where your family is well-known?”
“Mostly because I don’t want to trade on my father’s name.” Drew leaned down and rubbed away a trace of potting soil from his sneaker. “Back home I’ll never completely avoid the sympathy attached to him because of my mother’s death, or the notoriety that’s followed him everywhere since he led those impeachment hearings.”
He straightened and fixed her with a solemn gaze. “Here I can start fresh, earn a reputation on my own merit.” His voice softened. “This is God’s will for my life. He’s brought me here for a purpose, and a trusting soldier never deviates from the plan.”
“I respect that, Drew,” she said, preparing for the worst. “So Amelia�
�s going to be your…partner?” It was difficult to imagine the selfish Crockett Textiles heiress taking anything but top billing in a relationship.
“That depends upon a lot of things. She always said we’d make a good team. It seems we’re both still unattached and, if the feelings are truly still there, I’d planned to give us the chance we didn’t take back then.”
So there it was. Jessica plunged her spade into the moist soil, her heart plunging along with it.
“Well, she’s free and you certainly have the pedigree she’s been holding out for. Congratulations on finding each other again. The two of you should be very happy together,” she snapped.
Drew remained quiet as Jessica went through the motions of clearing space on her workbench. She tossed tools into a bucket and noisily stacked empty containers.
“But I want you to know something,” she continued. “In spite of what Amelia claims, I’d had nothing to drink the night of the accident. The Crocketts have always refused to accept the truth about Adam.”
“Which is?” Drew waited.
“That he had a reputation for demanding favors from women. Adam was drunk and I was fighting him off when I lost control of his car.”
She turned in the direction of her weak leg and reached for another bag at her side on the ground. In a practiced movement she grasped the corners of the sack and relied on strong biceps to hoist it upward. The heavy sack struck her recovering leg. The knee collapsed immediately, sending Jessica and her twenty-pound load crashing to the ground.
“Don’t move,” Drew commanded as he dropped to her side, gently examining her leg, checking for signs of new injury.
His warm touch pushed her emotions close to the edge. She swiped his hand away, silently cursing the tears of pain she couldn’t hold back.
“I’m fine,” she muttered through gritted teeth.
“If you’re fine, why are you crying?”
“Because the titanium in my knee feels more like barbed wire right now.” She massaged the aching knee and shrugged a shoulder against her cheek to brush away tears. “I probably didn’t tear anything loose, but I just added the full-time use of that horrible cane back into my life. What a stupid thing to do.”
“Can you stand?” He reached to take both her hands but stopped short of touching, a request for permission in his eyes.
Just like the first time they’d met, she had little choice but to rely upon his support. He pulled her to her feet and presented the cane, which she grudgingly accepted. Then he offered her the ever-present bandanna from his hip pocket.
“What’s that for?” She sniffed, needing to blow her nose but not wanting to humiliate herself further.
He gestured beneath his own eyes. “Mascara?”
“Oh, great. How is it that you always see me looking like a frump?” She swiped at last night’s eye makeup and then gave a noisy blow into the handkerchief. When she looked up again, he was grinning at her. Not just a sympathetic grin, either. A real one, complete with dimples.
“What’s so funny?”
“You’re funny. You call yourself a frump when the truth is you’re gorgeous.” He stated it like a fact. “Jessica, don’t you know that?”
She sniffed and rubbed at her nose a final time. “Yeah, well, your life’s just chock-full of beauties these days, isn’t it?”
His eyes narrowed as he absorbed the comment. He tilted his head to one side, studying her face. Somewhere in that head of his the wheels were grinding.
The dimples relaxed. He seemed determined to press his point. “Forgive me for being so blunt, but underneath the fertilizer you’re one of the most appealing women I’ve ever known.”
Drew took the bandanna from her hand and dabbed at her smudged face.
“I couldn’t resist kissing you that day,” he confessed, “and against conventional wisdom I’m about to give in again.”
He leaned down and softly met her lips with his own.
As she closed her eyes and inhaled Drew’s fresh scent, she told herself she’d allow this second kiss. But no more. By his own admission, he was not free. The devil take this man for being so straightforward.
It only made him more desirable.
The door slammed and Becky Jo bounded up the stairs, with Frasier yapping at her heels. Jessica quickly swiped away the last tear that dribbled the length of her jaw.
“Valentine heard you were kissing Rambo in full view of everybody this morning! What’s up with you two? I thought you said he had a thing with that Crockett chick.”
“He does, and if she has any say, they’re as good as engaged. It was just a pity kiss after I fell on my backside in front of him.”
“No way!” Becky Jo melted onto the chaise lounge opposite the bed where Jessica balanced The Encyclopedia of Perennials on her chest. Her knee was iced and resting on a stack of pillows.
“Yes, way. He told me himself. He moved here so they could rekindle their college romance.”
“Sorry, Jess. I really thought he was interested in you.”
“I thought he might be, too.” She sniffed, remembering the tender kiss. “Well—” she became matter-of-fact “—we can safely lay that theory to rest. He’s on a mission from God and somehow it’s all tied to Amelia.”
“How can you say that when you were lip locked with him less than six hours ago?”
“It was only a good-luck kiss.”
“Good luck?”
“Yeah, I may need it for my appointment at the Atlanta Chronicle with Madeline Shure tomorrow, and Drew will definitely need luck on his side if he plans to get involved with Amelia.”
“Do you think he knows that yet?”
“No, but he’s a smart guy, so it won’t take him long to figure it out.”
Becky Jo rolled off the chaise, retrieved her turquoise brocade flats and headed for the door. She turned suddenly and her eyebrows shot up.
“You have an appointment with Madeline Shure? The ‘Mouth of the South’?”
Jessica beamed. “Yep. Can you believe it? There was a message from her on the machine when I came back in for lunch. I figured she wanted to print something nasty about me in her Sunday column and she was just calling to get her facts straight. It turns out she heard about Living Colors and wants me to help with her daughter’s garden wedding reception.”
Becky Jo launched herself across the bed, tossed the gardening volume to the floor and hugged her friend fiercely.
“Wow, Jess, that is fantastic news!”
Badly in need of a hug, Jessica returned the sisterly embrace. It felt good to share her excitement.
“I’d hoped for a nibble from last night’s contacts, but this is like grabbing the brass ring! If Madeline Shure is happy with my work, everybody in Georgia will hear about it.”
“And if she’s not?” Becky Jo frowned.
“I’ll have to move to Wyoming. She’s syndicated across the southeast and I wouldn’t be able to get work this side of the Rockies.”
“Well, all she has to do is take a look around Sacred Arms and she’ll be sold.”
Jessica chewed her bottom lip and played with a strand of the ponytail falling from its rubber band. “I don’t think it’s going to be that easy. She told me some basic things about the reception plans, and I’ll only get one chance to pitch my ideas.”
“What does she want?” Becky Jo asked.
“Everything from begonias to butterflies.”
“Butterflies? Literally?”
“Literally.” Jessica had no idea how she was supposed to pull that off. “If I get the job, I’ll be up to my ears in bat guano by this time next week. If I remember correctly, she’s all shrub and no flowers, so it’s going to be a chore getting that place in bloom. I already have a great source for some incredible pots, if I can afford them.”
Becky Jo stood, brushing down the front of her paisley folds. “Well, if anybody can convince blooms and butterflies to appear on cue, my money’s on you, girl.”
Grate
ful for the support but not too sure she deserved the vote of confidence, Jessica resolved to make a quick run to Callaway Gardens early the next morning, with a stop at a very special pottery studio on the way home.
Thinking Faith would enjoy the butterfly habitat and the company of the artists, Jessica reached for the phone. Faith answered on the first ring.
“Hi, there. It’s Jessica. How’d you like to go with me in the morning to see a glass house full of butterflies?”
“That would be just the thing. I’ll tell Andrew.”
Faith neglected to cover the receiver and Jessica overheard the brief exchange. Drew sounded hurt his sister didn’t want to spend her last morning with him. Faith suggested he’d be free to make plans with his trashy girlfriend.
Drew countered with the threat, “Well, she may end up as your sister-in-law someday, so you’d better watch what you say about her, especially when you get back home.”
A moment of silence followed and then Drew added, “You can go with Jessica, if it’s really what you want.”
“He says I can go,” Faith answered excitedly.
Jessica smiled at the girl’s ability to twist her big brother around her little finger. Faith proved there was a difference between sheltered and helpless.
“Great. If you’ll wear grubby clothes, you’ll get an extra-special treat tomorrow. I’ll meet you at your front door at seven o’clock and we’ll stop to get doughnuts on the way.”
She could hear the big smile on Faith’s face as she thanked Jessica for the invitation. She could also imagine the Rhett Butler mustache turned down in a scowl over the same offer.
“Could I speak with your brother, please?”
There was a brief pause before the gruff “Hello.”
“Is it really okay with you if Faith goes with me tomorrow? I didn’t mean to intrude on the last day of her visit.”
“No, it’s all right.” He paused, and she heard a big sigh. “There are some other things I can get done in the morning instead. But she has a five-fifteen flight, so you have to have her home by two.”
“Would you like to come along?” Now, why in the world had she said that? She needed to focus on her immediate plans, and he was too much of a distraction. “We’re going to stop by a local pottery studio where Faith can participate.”
