CHAPTER FOURTEEN
He really disliked weddings, even when they were family obligations.
A week after Frannie’s release from jail, Ross stood in the extensive gardens at the Double Crown watching his cousin Darr dance with his very pregnant bride of less than an hour, Bethany Burdett. Bethany Burdett Fortune, now, he supposed.
It was a lovely evening for a wedding. Little twinkly lights had been strung through all the trees and the garden smelled sweet, like flowers and springtime.
Darr beamed with pride and his new wife looked completely radiant. That was what they said about pregnant women and brides—and since she qualified on both counts, Ross figured radiant was an accurate description. She also couldn’t seem to take her eyes off Darr.
The two of them seemed deliriously happy together, he would give them that. He hoped things would work out for the two of them and for Bethany’s kid, which wasn’t Darr’s—and nobody was making a secret about it. The baby needed a dad and Darr appeared more than willing to step up and take responsibility. Ross just hoped he didn’t grow to resent raising another man’s kid.
They wouldn’t have an easy road—a cynical thought to have just moments after their wedding, he knew, and he was slightly ashamed of himself for even entertaining it.
How did he get to be so pessimistic about happily-ever-afters? He couldn’t really say he’d never seen a good marriage at work. His uncle William had adored his wife Molly before her death and they had been married for decades. Lily and Ryan had known several happy years, too, before Ryan’s surprising death.
He couldn’t deny there were many couples in his extended family who, by all appearances, had good, fulfilling marriages. He didn’t begrudge any of them their joy, he just figured maybe Cindy’s particular branch of the Fortune family tree had picked up some sort of withering disease that blighted their prospects of happy endings.
His mother had never stayed with any man for longer than a year or so. His brothers didn’t seem capable of settling down, and God knows, his sister’s marriage had been a farce from the beginning.
He glanced toward Frannie, sitting at a table with their cousin Nicholas and his fiancée Charlene. She looked as if she were only half-listening to their conversation and he wondered again why she didn’t seem more ecstatic about being released from jail. She still seemed thin and withdrawn and she evaded and equivocated whenever he tried to probe about why she hadn’t defended herself in Lloyd’s murder and her strange reaction to finding out one of the Mendozas had confessed to it.
Something was up with her and it bugged him that she still refused to tell him what was going on, even after all they had been through the past month. She was a grown woman, though. If she didn’t want to tell him what was troubling her, he couldn’t force her.
He glanced at his watch, wondering if twenty minutes into the reception counted as fulfilling his familial obligation so he could go. When he looked up, his heart seemed to catch his throat when he saw Julie Osterman walk into the garden, wearing a soft yellow dress that made her look as if she had brought all the sunshine along with her.
In the week since he had left her at her house with such heated words, he had forgotten how breathtaking she was, with that soft brown hair shot through with blonde and those incredible blue eyes and delicate features. He suddenly realized with some vexation that if he had the chance, he would be quite content just to stand there and gawk at her all night.
As if she felt him watching her, she shifted her attention from her conversation with his cousin Susan and looked up. For a long moment, the two of them just stared at each other, their gazes locked. Emotions swelled up inside him, thick and heavy and terrifying. He saw something in her eyes, something that made them look huge and liquid and sad, and then she deliberately turned back to answer something Susan said to her, though he knew she was still aware of him, of this strange bond tugging between them.
He wanted fiercely to go to her. His chest ached and he actually lifted a hand to rub at it then caught himself and shoved it into the pocket of his dress slacks instead. It still throbbed though, an actual physical ache that made him feel slightly ridiculous.
He had missed her. More than he had ever dreamed possible. In the week since he had seen her—since those stunning few hours they had shared at his apartment in San Antonio—she hadn’t been out of his mind for long. Everything seemed to remind him of her, from shooting hoops with Josh to the starlit view from his bedroom window at night to—of all silly things—the scent of the particular brand of fabric softener he used, just because that day in the grocery store he had talked to her while they were standing in the laundry aisle.
It had to stop. He was miserable and he hated it. Surely this ache in his chest would eventually go away. He had to start sleeping again, instead of tossing and turning all night, reaching for someone who wasn’t there.
Any day now, things would get back to normal. Or at least that’s what he kept telling himself.
Lucky for him, he wasn’t in love with her, he thought. Then he really would be miserable.
He told himself he wasn’t staring at her but he couldn’t help but notice when Ricky Farraday asked her to dance a few moments later. Ricky was slightly shorter than she was and only fourteen but she took the arm he held out for her with a shake of her head and a laugh he would swear he could hear clear on the other side of the plank dance floor set up in an open area of the garden.
“You’re watching those dancers like you’d like to join them.”
He jerked his gaze away to realize Frannie had joined him. “No. Not at all. You know I’m not much of a dancer.”
“Neither am I. Why don’t we trip all over the floor together?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Come on, Ross. Don’t be a big chicken. We haven’t danced together since I was twelve years old on my way to my first junior high school dance and you and Cooper and Flint put on some of Cindy’s records and took turns trying to teach me a few steps.”
He laughed at the memory of him and his brothers almost coming to blows about who could waltz better. Even though they had bickered their way through it, they had all had a great time that Saturday night. He’d forgotten the whole thing. It was so easy to focus only on the bad times that he often forgot how much fun they could all have together.
“Come on. I’d like to dance,” Frannie pressed, showing more enthusiasm about this than she had toward much of anything since her release. How could he say no?
He shrugged. “Don’t blame me if I ruin your fancy shoes with my clunky feet.”
“I can buy more shoes,” she said, and led him out to the dance floor. As he expected, he was rusty and awkward at first but Cindy had passed on at least some small degree of her natural ability and they quickly fell into something resembling dance steps.
The entire time, he was aware of Julie across the dance floor. She laughed at something Ricky said and his heart started to ache all over again.
“Okay, what’s wrong?” Frannie asked. “Are you completely miserable to be out here dancing or is something else bothering you?”
He raised an eyebrow, finding her question the height of irony since he’d been hounding her to confide in him about one thing or another since the night her husband was killed.
“Nothing.” He could equivocate with the best of them. “I’m just not a huge fan of weddings.”
“I love them,” she said promptly. “Bethany and Darr look so happy together, don’t they?”
He stared at her. “How can you? Love weddings, I mean?”
She gave him an arch look. “Do you think I can’t be a romantic, just because my own marriage wasn’t the greatest?”
That was just about the biggest understatement of the decade, but he decided to let it slide. “I was thinking more about how tough it would be to love weddings when you grew up with a front-row seat to Cindy’s messed-up version of relationships. That’s enough to sour anybody on the idea of h
earts and flowers and happily-ever-after, don’t you think?”
“Oh, Ross.” Sorrow flickered in her eyes and her fingers tightened around his. “Don’t look to Cindy for an example of anything. Or at me, either.”
“You don’t think we’ve inherited her lousy relationship gene?”
“Oh, I hope not. I would hate to think you and Cooper and Flint could never find the same kind of happiness that Darr and Bethany share today.”
Against his will, his gaze flickered to Julie, then he looked quickly back at Frannie, hoping she had missed that quick, instinctive look.
“Maybe Cooper and Flint might eventually settle down and you’re still a young, beautiful woman,” he said. “There’s no reason you couldn’t find someone someday, someone who will finally treat you like you deserve. But I think at this point, it’s safe to say it’s not in the cards for me.”
She was silent for a long time and he hoped she would let this awkward conversation die. Instead, when her gaze met his, Frannie’s eyes were filled with sadness and regret.
“We have all treated you so poorly, haven’t we?”
“What do you mean? Of course you haven’t!”
“We all counted on you for too much, made you believe you were responsible for everything in our lives. Even Cindy. Maybe especially Cindy.”
She squeezed his fingers. “You’re not, you know. Not responsible for any of us. You’re not responsible for Cindy’s failed relationships or her lousy mothering or for my own mistakes or for anything but your own life, Ross, and what you make of it.”
So far, he hadn’t made much of it. Oh, he had a decent career that he enjoyed and had found success at. But what else did he have to show for forty years on the planet?
“Do you remember teaching me how to ride a two-wheeler without training wheels?” Frannie asked.
He blinked at what seemed an abrupt change of topic. “Not really.”
“I do. I can remember it like it was yesterday. I remember exactly what you said to me. I was seven years old, far too old to still be riding a little-kid bike, which means you would have been about eleven. You worked with me for days trying to get me not to wobble. You were so patient, even though I’m sure there were a million other things you would rather have been doing than helping your stupid, clumsy baby sister. Finally one day, you just gave me a big push, let go of the bike frame and told me to forget my fears and just enjoy the ride.”
He remembered they had been living in an apartment in Dallas and had gone to the park near their place every afternoon for two weeks. No matter what he tried, Frannie couldn’t seem to get the hang of balancing on two wheels. Only after he gave her no other choice except to fall over on the sidewalk did she manage to figure it out. After that, there was no stopping her.
“Can I give the same advice back to you?” Frannie asked, her voice solemn.
“I know how to ride a bike,” he muttered, trying to figure out where she was going with this.
“Yes. But do you know how to live, Ross?”
He bristled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Take it from somebody who feels like she’s been one of those ice sculptures over at the bar for the last eighteen years—if a chance for happiness comes along, you have to take it. You can’t be afraid because of our messed-up childhood, because of what Cindy did to all of us. Don’t give her that much power, Ross. You deserve so much more.”
Her words seemed to sear through him, resonating through his entire body. He was doing exactly that. He was still letting Cindy control his life, with her whims and her capriciousness and her instability. He was so convinced he was just like her, that he would mess up everything good and decent that ever came his way, that he was deathly afraid to let go of those fears and take a chance.
Frannie was exactly right. Just as Julie had been right a week before in everything she said to him.
He was afraid to count on anyone else, afraid to open his life to even the possibility of someone else touching his heart.
“I didn’t mean to leave you speechless,” Frannie said.
He blinked and realized the song had ended—a good thing, since he had stopped stock-still on the edge of the dance floor.
“Think about it, Ross. I just want you to be happy.” Frannie kissed his cheek, then slipped away.
The music started up again and somehow Ross managed to make his way off the dance floor before somebody collided with him. He needed a drink, he decided, even if it meant he had to stick around a little longer to give the alcohol time to wear off before he drove home.
Before he could reach the open bar and those ice sculptures Frannie had been talking about, Julie twirled by on the arm of his nephew, who must have asked her to dance the moment Ricky led her off the floor. Her gaze met his over Josh’s shoulder and this time he was certain he saw something like sorrow there.
His chest ached again and he had no choice but to rub it as the truth seemed to soak through him.
He couldn’t lie to himself anymore. He was in love with Julie Osterman. With her smile and her gentleness and her compassion for everyone around her. He loved the way she touched his arm to make a point and her enthusiasm and dedication to the rough-edged kids she helped and the way she always had everyone else’s interests at heart.
He let out a shaky breath, feeling as if a dozen ice sculptures had just collapsed on his head. He couldn’t be in love with her. He didn’t know the first damn thing about being in love.
His instinct was to run, to climb into his SUV and head back to San Antonio, where he was safe. But he had supposedly been safe all week from Julie and these terrifying emotions she churned up in him and he had been miserable.
Just let go and enjoy the ride.
Frannie’s words echoed in his mind. Did he have the courage? Could he let go of the past and seize this incredible chance for happiness that had been handed to him?
He watched Julie twirl around the dance floor with Josh and knew he had to try.
* * *
Ross was staring at her.
Julie tried to keep her attention on the dance steps, on not tripping all over her partner and making a complete fool of herself, but she was painfully aware of Ross’s hard gaze scorching her all over. But why did he bother looking?
He had made it abundantly plain he wasn’t interested in anything more than the one night they had together. She had spent all week trying to get over him, to convince herself her heart wasn’t broken, and then he had to show up at her friend Bethany’s wedding looking rough and masculine and gorgeous in a western-cut dark suit and tie.
If he didn’t want her, why was he looking at her like she was a big plate of caramel cashew bars he couldn’t wait to gobble up?
She drew in a shaky breath and tried to answer something Josh said, though she wasn’t sure if she made any sense. She barely heard what he said in reply, but his next words suddenly penetrated through the haze around her brain.
“What happened between you and Ross?” Josh asked.
She stumbled and nearly stepped on his foot but quickly tried to recover. “What do you mean? Why do you ask?”
His shoulder moved beneath her hand as he shrugged. “I just thought you two were getting along so well. I’m not blind. I could see the vibe between the two of you the night we had dinner. And suddenly it’s like you’re nowhere to be found and Uncle Ross is acting like a grizzly bear who needs a root canal. What happened between you two?”
She knew it was petty of her to find some satisfaction that Ross was acting cranky but she couldn’t seem to help it. “Nothing happened,” she lied. Other than they shared one incredible night together and then he broke her heart. “We’re just friends.”
“Are you sure? He really seemed to like you, more than anyone else I’ve ever seen him with.”
She let out a breath and pasted on something she hoped would pass for a smile. “I’m positive. Just friends.”
“Too bad. I think you would have been
good for Uncle Ross. He needs somebody like you.”
Though she knew Josh didn’t realize it, his words poured like acid on her already raw wounds. She was still reeling when the music ended. One of Josh’s extended cousins called to him and he excused himself with a smile.
She stood for a moment, aware of Ross across the dance floor talking to his cousin J.R. and J.R.’s lovely fiancée, Isabella Mendoza, who was Roberto’s cousin. His gaze met hers one more time, his dark eyes unreadable, and she let out a shaky breath.
Julie couldn’t take anymore. She had done her duty by her friend Bethany and had told her how thrilled she was for her and for Darr. There was no reason to stick around for more of this torture.
Quickly, she made her way toward the grassy field that was serving as a parking lot for the wedding, pausing only long enough to say a hasty goodbye to a few friends. Just as she reached the outskirts of the crowd, she heard Ross calling her name.
She briefly entertained the idea of pretending she didn’t hear him, but that would be the coward’s way out. Besides, as quickly as he moved, he would catch up to her before she could reach her car anyway.
As he approached, she turned slowly, cursing him all over again for making her heart flip in her chest. His features wore an odd, unreadable expression and his eyes were gazing at her with an intensity that made her suddenly breathless.
“Hi, Ross,” she managed.
“I thought I saw you leave. I’m glad I caught you. I…needed to talk to you.”
“Oh?” She did her best to hide the tremble of her hands by folding them tightly in front of her.
For a long moment, he didn’t seem inclined to say anything, he just continued to watch her out of those deep brown eyes. She wasn’t used to seeing him at a loss for words and she didn’t quite know how to respond.
Finally he let out a long breath. “Do you…would you like to take a walk with me?”
She ought to tell him no. She wasn’t at all in the mood to dredge everything up again and she wasn’t sure her fragile emotions could handle another encounter with him. But she was curious enough about what he wanted to talk about that she finally nodded. They walked side by side on the gravel pathway around the house in the gathering twilight, through more gardens, their shoulders barely brushing.
Change of Fortune Page 17
