THE BACHELOR PARTY

by Paula Detmer Riggs

  "It is charming," Rose Ruth mused, "but I believe I favor the one she wore at Hannah's weddin'."

  "That's because you favor lilac over yellow, Rose Ruth. You always have, from the time you were a girl. I remember very clearly that I wore a lilac frock to your sixth birthday party and you spilled chocolate ice cream all over the front simply because it was prettier than yours and you were pea green with jealousy."

  "Now that is the most outrageous lie I have had the displeasure to hear you utter, Frances Ann. I do believe you are approachin' senility faster than I previously thought."

  "Well, I never," Fanny exclaimed, brown eyes snapping.

  Sophie caught the gaze Katie aimed her way, and they both glanced away hurriedly before each gave way to giggles.

  "What time is it?" Katie asked anxiously, checking the alarm clock pointedly. The two ladies broke off glaring at each other to simultaneously check their watches.

  "Almost one," Miss Fanny said quickly, her expression smug at having beaten the enemy.

  "More precisely, seven minutes till," Miss Rose Ruth corrected, before turning on Fanny again. "You did tell Arnie one-thirty on the dot, did you not? The last thing I said to you last night was to remember to tell him one-thirty, and not to be late."

  "I told him," Fanny declared peevishly. "One-thirty on the dot."

  The faint chiming of the doorbell had the elderly ladies exchanging startled looks. "That must be Ford," Sophie said hastily. "He's promised Mike he'd be there early to help him tie his tie or hold his hand or maybe lock the door so he can't change his mind."

  "Not much chance of that," Katie said, checking her hairdo in the mirror one more time. "I've never seen Mike so docile."

  "Poor Ford," Miss Fanny said, expelling a weighty sigh. "I'm sure he's going to have mixed feelings when he gives Lucy away next month."

  "And to a man none of us really know all that well," Rose Ruth added, handing Sophie the diaper bag she'd packed and had ready on the bed.

  "Mr. Dooley seems nice enough," Katie said as the ladies trailed out. "And he is one good-looking gentleman."

  "Lucy's certainly smitten," Sophie said, following Katie over the threshold. "It was all anyone was talking about at the diner this morning."

  "I'll bet," Katie exclaimed as Sophie closed the door. "And I'll bet Ford will have a lot to say to his sister in the next few weeks."

  "We'll see you girls at the church," Miss Fanny said as she opened the door to her room.

  "If Arnie shows up when he's supposed to," Rose Ruth amended archly.

  Katie bit her lip and Sophie held her breath as they walked side by side down the wide staircase. When the click of the latch told her that the ladies were safely behind a closed door, she expelled the trapped air and laughed out loud.

  "Those two," she murmured. "They never agree on anything, and yet one would be lost without the other."

  Sophie expected Ford to be wearing a suit. When she started down the last flight of stairs and saw him standing at the bottom dressed in a midnight blue tux she felt as though her stomach had suddenly filled with warm honey.

  Resting one forearm on the newel post, he had the other stuck in the pocket of his trousers while he listened intently to something Roy Dean was telling him. Instead of muting the aura of toughness about him, the formal clothing only added to it, she realized. Like a razor-honed sword sheathed in wear-softened leather.

  He glanced up, his gaze locking on hers, and she felt a jolt of heat. For him. From him.

  "Fo'!" Jessie shouted happily, extending her arms toward him well before Sophie had reached the bottom step.

  "There's my girl," he said, giving her a kiss as he took her into his arms. Giggling, she bestowed a sloppy kiss on his cheek that had him grinning.

  "My, my, Roy Dean, look at these two lovely flowers of the South," he murmured, his drawl thicker than usual. "Yes, sir, I do believe you and I are the two luckiest men in this town to be privileged to escort these beautiful ladies."

  "My sentiments exactly," Roy Dean said, smiling paternally at Sophie first and then at Katie. "You look very like your mother, my dear. She, too, was a rare beauty."

  Katie's cheeks turned pink. "Now I know why I asked you to be my escort," she said, her eyes suspiciously shiny.

  Ford shifted Jessie to his other arm and extended the one he'd freed to Sophie. "Ready, Ms. Reynolds?"

  She managed to smile without her lips trembling too noticeably. "Ready, Sheriff Maguire."

  Roy Dean opened the door, then winked at Sophie as Ford escorted her over the threshold.

  Though it wasn't spring on the calendar, the air felt wonderfully warm and soft, and hazy sunshine streamed through the still-bare oak tree like a benediction on the bridal couple.

  "It's a perfect day for a wedding," she murmured, feeling almost dizzy as Ford cast a heated glance in her direction.

  "Beautiful," he said, his dark, intense gaze roaming over her face like a caress. "I like the dress," he added, his voice deepening, "and I can't wait to see it layin' on the floor next to my bed later." His sudden grin was part thoughtful lover, part arrogant devil, and she had to struggle to keep her lips in a straight line.

  "I haven't agreed to spend the night with you," she reminded him firmly as he pulled open the car door and tossed the diaper bag onto the floor behind the seat.

  "You will," he said as he fitted Jessie deftly into her car seat and tested the belt latch to make sure it was secure.

  "Oh, yeah? And just what makes you say that?" she demanded as she slipped into the bucket seat.

  "I saw the way you looked at me when you were comin' down the stairs."

  "What way?" she asked before she realized he'd set her up.

  "Like you couldn't wait for me to do this," he said, bending suddenly to cover her lips with his. His mouth was hot, his tongue hotter as it slipped between lips she parted instinctively, eagerly. She felt sizzling pleasure, tasted desperation. His hand was warm against her neck, his strength gentled by his own choice, even as he uttered a groan so primal it verged on violent.

  When his mouth left hers, she wanted to whimper at the sense of terrible loss. "Later," he murmured hoarsely, his mouth still close, his eyes glittering with need and promise.

  "I'll think about it," she managed to say before drawing in a desperately needed breath of air.

  "You do that, sugar," he said, his grin flashing almost as white as his dazzling shirt. "And while you're at it, think about this, too. As soon as you get off work on Monday, you and I are drivin' to Charleston to buy you a birthday present." He closed the door on her startled protest.

  "How did you know I have a birthday coming up?" she demanded when he climbed behind the wheel and slanted her a cocky look that all but melted the buttons on her dress.

  "Us lawmen have our ways, honey," he said, twisting the key in the ignition.

  The roar of the engine drowned out speech for a moment, and she found herself fighting down panic. "You sneaked a peak at the application I filled out for Peg, didn't you?"

  He turned to look through the rear window as he backed the car to the street before letting his gaze rest on hers for an instant. "Now, honey, you know I can't divulge my sources," he drawled before shifting into first and applying the gas. "But I will say I figured you for being a mite taller than five-two-and-a-half. Must be those sexy legs I keep thinkin' about at the most inappropriate moments."

  Sophie drew a relieved breath. She was right. Somehow he'd charmed Peg into a look at her application. Not that she was surprised, she admitted, folding her hands around her purse. When he set his mind to it, Ford could charm the leaves from the trees. Hadn't she sworn to stay as far away from him as possible, only to end up in his bed only a few months after making that vow?

  "Have you given any thought to what you might want for this birthday of yours?" he asked, driving with one hand and capturing hers with the other.

  "A card will do just fine," she said, her heart aching. She didn't know
exactly where she would be in six days, but she knew she wouldn't be with him.

  "I figured on a card," he said, flattening her hand against his thigh and covering it with his. "The question is, what should go with it?"

  Your love, she thought sadly. Only your love. "Nothing," she said firmly. "I'm too old for presents."

  He slanted her an amused look. "Lucy was always partial to silver jewelry for special occasions. But I figure you'd like gold better. Something delicate and feminine, something along the lines of a ring."

  She stared at him, seeing only him. "Ford—"

  "Guess this is a dumb time for a man to be askin' a woman to marry him, huh?"

  "I…" She blinked, then realized that he was pulling into the church parking lot.

  "Never mind answerin' now, sugar. You'll have plenty of time to accept tonight, when we're alone."

  Sophie was still numb as he escorted Jessie and her into the church.

  It was a beautiful wedding. Everyone said so, and Sophie agreed whole-heartedly. But it had been the best man she'd watched while the bride and groom repeated their vows.

  The reception was held immediately after the ceremony in the church basement. It was a happy party, with balloons and flowers and a three-piece band setting the mood. Standing with the others from Katie's, with Jessie chattering in her arms, Sophie had had to fight back tears as the handsome groom swept his bride into his arms for the first dance.

  The floor had been jammed ever since. As tradition demanded, Ford, as best man, had danced first with Emma's matron of honor, a plainspoken feisty widow in her seventies named Martha Balanski, and then with Katie.

  Obligations fulfilled, he'd asked Sophie for the next dance, leading her onto the floor with a look of pride so fierce she'd gone weak inside. Though he'd held her at a decorous distance, the suggestions he'd whispered in her ear had had her blushing and deliriously aroused well before the dance ended. While she'd taken Jessie to the ladies' room to change her diaper, he'd danced with Miss Fanny and Miss Rose Ruth in turn, and then with his sister.

  By the time Jessie had started fussing, her two honorary grand-mamas had been more than ready to leave and had volunteered to take her home with them in Maxwell's taxi. Sophie smiled at the thought of the three of them tucked into their beds for a long afternoon nap.

  The party was still in full swing when Ford looked at his watch, and then at her. "Wish I hadn't promised Eli I'd take the last half of his shift for him," Ford groused, glancing down at her with raw frustration seething in his eyes.

  "When do you have to leave?" she asked, wishing the same thing.

  "I've got a few minutes yet," he hedged.

  She smiled. "I guess that's why Ellie's been looking at her watch every few minutes." She directed his attention to a group of young matrons seated near the beribboned gift table, chirping and chattering like brightly colored birds. Already a week overdue, Ellie was sitting with her hands folded over her enormous stomach, visibly uncomfortable and obviously impatient for her husband to join her.

  "Poor thing, I know just how she feels," Sophie murmured, remembering the last few weeks of her own pregnancy. It had been a bittersweet time for her. Even though she'd been eagerly awaiting the baby's birth, she'd also known that she wouldn't see her child again until her release. At the time, she'd had no inkling that the Manwarings had planned to rob her of her own child.

  "She does look downright miserable," Ford muttered close to her ear.

  "I imagine she is miserable, physically that is. Every day after your due date seems like a week."

  Ford heard the strain in her voice and consigned the man who'd put such hurt in her to the hottest fires in hell. "Were you late?" he asked, thinking about the faint white lines on her now-flat belly.

  She touched her stomach, as though remembering. "Four days."

  "Was the delivery painful?" The question came hard, yet he had to know. His mother had described his own birth in graphic terms, then sworn she'd never have another child. Lucy had been an accident, one Susannah Maguire hadn't accepted happily or silently.

  "It hurts to have a baby," Sophie admitted, lifting her gaze to his. The concern she saw there touched her deeply. "But it's bearable because you know when it's over you'll have brought another special soul into the world."

  "Not that I'm prejudiced, you understand, but I'd bet money Jessie was a beauty right from the start," he declared gruffly.

  "Absolutely!" she exclaimed softly. "Not that I'm prejudiced, either, of course." Somehow she managed the smile of maternal pride she knew he expected. Each minute that passed brought her closer to the moment when she and Jessie would board the bus taking them away from him.

  "I wish I could have seen her." His eyes were suddenly very dark. "And you."

  "I looked like a blimp." Especially in the shapeless prison garb. Somehow she managed to keep from cringing at the thought of Ford seeing her then. Lack of sunshine had given her a sickly pallor and the shock of finding herself caged had taken the life from her eyes.

  "Hey, you two, wasn't it a lovely wedding?" Lucy exclaimed as she sidestepped one of Mike's crew who gave her an approving once-over. Radiant with happiness, Lucy was wearing a blue silk suit and a matching hat. Sophie had already told her how flattering both were to her slender shape and coloring.

  "Beautiful," Sophie agreed, answering her smile with one of her own. "I understand best wishes are in order for you, too. I hope you and Joe will be very happy."

  "Might as well wish for the moon," Ford said, his face taking on a hard, intimidating line that didn't seem to faze Lucy in the least.

  "Thank you, Sophie," Lucy said, pointedly ignoring her brother whose scowl deepened.

  "Don't think we've talked this through, because we haven't," he told her sternly before slipping an arm around Sophie's waist to pull her toward him.

  "I'll be off duty at seven sharp. Be thinkin' about where you want to have dinner."

  Sophie drew a breath, conscious that Lucy was watching them with bemused satisfaction. "Don't work too hard," Sophie ordered softly, loving him with her eyes.

  "Not much chance of that when I'll be mostly thinkin' about tonight." He bent to kiss her, oblivious of the stares coming their way. "Be ready at 7:05. I'll pick you up." His mouth found hers one more time, and then he was on his way, striding through the assemblage with that rolling, cowboy walk that never failed to fire her blood.

  "Now that was something I never thought I'd see, straight-arrow Ford Maguire kissing a woman in public," Lucy mused, watching Ford until he left the hall.

  Sophie forced a smile. "Don't blame me," she said lightly. "I've done everything I could think of to discourage him."

  Lucy reached out a hand to squeeze Sophie's. "I know, sugar. Just like I know what Ford's like when he gets his mind set on something. Not even God and all His heavenly angels can keep my brother from getting something that's really important to him."

  Sophie nodded, but her thoughts were with Ford and the choices he'd made. Agonizing choices to make, and painful consequences to bear as a result of those choices. To her knowledge he'd never complained.

  Lucy waved to someone across the room before turning to Sophie again. "I know it isn't mannerly to talk business when we're having such a good time, but I hope you'll agree to cater my reception."

  Sophie felt a pang of sadness. "I didn't realize you'd set the date?"

  "Oh, yes. March the tenth. Joe hates long engagements." She glanced around, her expression turning wistful. "I just wish he could have been here today."

  "How long will he be gone?" Sophie watched Emma beaming at something Mike was whispering in her ear and felt a leaden sadness settle inside her.

  "A few weeks," Lucy said morosely. "He's up north on business."

  "What kind of work does he do?"

  "Investments, mostly. It's too complicated for my poor brain to comprehend."

  Sophie told herself that Lucy's choices were hers to make, just as Ford's had been
his, just as her own choices had been hers to make and live with. She'd just about convinced herself to make an excuse and walk away when she heard herself asking Lucy if she was absolutely certain Joe was the right man for her.

  Lucy looked startled before a coolness came over her. "I love him, if that's what you mean."

  "Please don't misunderstand," Sophie said quickly, already regretting the impulse to offer advice that Lucy clearly didn't want. "It's just that I know what can happen when you're swept off your feet by an older man. I … it happened to me once. Wells and I were married three months to the day after we met, and I'll spend the rest of my life wishing I'd insisted on a longer engagement. If I had, I'm certain I never would have married him."

  A reluctant sympathy softened Lucy's resentment. "It's not like that with Joe and me," she murmured. "And in spite of what my brother thinks, I can take care of myself."

  "I thought that once, too, but Wells was a master at manipulation. He'd nearly turned me into jelly, before I realized what was happening." In one of life's cruel ironies, she'd made up her mind to leave him one week before she'd discovered she was pregnant.

  "It's really sweet of you to worry about me, Sophie, but honestly, everything's going to work out fine. You'll see."

  "I hope so," Sophie told her. "But Ford's right, Lucy. You haven't known Joe long enough to really understand what he's like."

  "I've known him as long as you've known Ford," Lucy shot back, her eyes turning distant again.

  Sophie drew a breath. "There is one major difference, however," she said softly, far too close to tears. "I'm not going to marry Ford."

  The boarding house residents were on their own on Saturday nights. Katie provided access to the kitchen and the larder, but most of her boarders preferred to eat out.

  The house was quiet as Sophie came down the stairs a few minutes before seven. The parlor was empty, and there wasn't a sound from the kitchen. Upstairs, Miss Fanny was in her room with a book, her door and Sophie's ajar so that she could hear Jessie if she cried. Katie hadn't yet returned home, and Miss Rose Ruth had gone to dinner with Doc Gossely.