He inserted the coins with fumbling fingers and snatched up the last copy in the rack. He started to read the article as he walked to his car, his anger growing as he read each sentence.
Darcy Stanton Hays, his wife, was in reality Tracy D’Arcy Harbeson Stanton, the missing niece of his commanding officer. The one who’d climbed out the window of the chapel and left old Dick What’s-his-name standing at the altar.
How could she not have told him who she was?
Bill unlocked the car and slid behind the wheel. The afternoon was hot, and he turned on the engine so he could use the air conditioner, but he didn’t drive. Not until he’d read every word of the article.
No wonder she hadn’t wanted to remain married to him. He hardly traveled in her circles. Her father was a general! Her mother was the daughter of one of the most decorated heroes of World War II, and the rest of her family was a veritable Who’s Who of American military history.
Why hadn’t he made the connection?
She’d told him she’d backed out of a marriage that her family had practically arranged. He didn’t realize that it had been just a matter of hours prior to him finding her on that deserted road.
Had she been laughing at him behind his back? Was she having a merry old time thinking she had him wound around her little finger?
He looked back at the photograph. It was apparently a college yearbook shot, and not the most flattering picture, but it looked like her, the woman he’d fallen in love with. Then he opened the paper to read the rest of the article.
Apparently, her family called her Tracy, and he’d known that the missing bride was Colonel Harbeson’s niece and assumed that she was Tracy Harbeson. The girl he’d picked up on the road had a different name. No wonder he hadn’t made the connection.
He had to get home. He had to figure out what to do. Could he be accused of harboring a fugitive or something? Had he done something against the law?
He slammed his fist against the steering wheel, causing the horn to blow. He was more confused than ever. And the only one who could clear it all up was Darcy.
He had the weekend, forty-eight hours, before he had to report back to the squadron. He would go home, and he would demand answers. He would find out why she had played him for a fool. Then he would let her go.
Even if he’d regret it for the rest of his life.
* * *
DARCY’S DAY had started slowly enough, but just when she’d thought she’d made it through, a flurry of minor emergencies that all had to be attended to had come in in the last hour. She’d been ready to pack up and leave early and had ended up staying. She finally headed home from work an hour late.
She was tired and hot and cranky. She hadn’t been sleeping well lately, and all she could think about was preparing a light supper and going to bed early. And to make matters worse, the air conditioner on Nettie’s old car had given up and died.
A thunderstorm was forming off in the distance and the hot air was thick with humidity. Lightning flickered against the backdrop of purple-gray clouds. Maybe the impending storm would help to cool things off.
She steered the car into the driveway with nothing more pressing on her mind than a cold shower and a light snack. Then she realized that there was another car in her usual parking spot by the old tool shed.
Darcy’s heart did a back flip when she realized it was Billy’s dark green Cherokee.
He was home! He’d come for her!
Excited, she parked beside the dusty Jeep and hurried toward the house.
Billy, leaning against the support column, was waiting for her in the shade of the porch. Darcy grinned and started to wave, but her smile faltered as the grim expression on Billy’s face registered. He looked as dark and as threatening as the thunderstorm building in the distance.
“What’s wrong?” Darcy tried to temper her alarm, but the expression on Bill’s face was frightening. This was a side of the man she’d never seen before.
“Oh, that’s rich,” Bill snarled. “You spend weeks laughing behind my back about how you…” He stopped, apparently too angry for words. He had a wadded-up copy of a newspaper in his hands and he threw it at her, the pages separating and fluttering out onto the lawn in the cool breeze that carried the smell of rain.
“How could you not tell me who you are?” He turned and marched inside, leaving Darcy standing, stunned, at the bottom of the steps. “How could you make me love you, then play me like a fool?”
“Who I am?” Darcy still didn’t know what he was talking about, but she guessed the newspaper would clear up the mystery. And she couldn’t defend herself until she knew what this was all about.
As fat raindrops spattered against the tin roof of the porch, she gathered up the scattered sheets of newsprint, polka-dotted with wet spots. She barely made it to the shelter of the porch before the sky opened and rain fell in blowing sheets.
* * *
PACING LIKE an angry tiger, Bill waited inside, his rage growing with each moment it took. How long did it take to read one stupid newspaper article?
Lightning struck nearby and with it came the acrid ozone smell. His skin tingled as the electrical charge ripped through the air.
Darcy was still on the porch! He had to get her inside where it was dry. Where it was safe.
Bill hurried to the door and a gust of wind ripped the screen out of his hands and set the door flapping against the wall. A volley of raindrops mixed with hail rattled against the tin roof, sounding like machine-gun fire. Why was she still sitting out there?
He pushed outside. Darcy was in the swing, the newspaper clasped tightly in her hands. Her face was wet and her eyes clouded, her expression miserable. She was soaking wet and shivering, whether from the cold rain or something else, he didn’t know.
“I—I’m sorry, Darcy,” he said, holding out his hand, but wanting to scoop her into his arms, though he didn’t dare. He had to make it right first. “Come inside.” Apologies didn’t come easy to him, but he struggled for the right words. “I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
She looked up at him and took his hand. A little of the light had returned to her eyes, but her expression was wary. “I guess I owe you an explanation,” Darcy murmured, shivering as Bill led her inside.
“That would be a good start,” Bill said, grabbing a kitchen towel and rubbing the excess water off her skin, skin he’d rather be kissing. No, he had to harden his heart. At least, until he’d heard what Darcy had to say.
“I don’t know where to begin,” she answered weakly. “I was so confused.”
“Go on.” It was hard not to drag her to him, not to crush her in his arms, but Bill was determined he would remain aloof, objective, until she’d had her say.
“Looking back on it, I’m not really sure why I agreed to marry Dick,” she said simply. “He had given me a long list of good reasons that had more to do with pedigrees than affection. My mother had gone on and on about the wonderful match, and it seemed easier to go along with everyone than to make waves. I’d known Dick forever, we’d dated on and off in high school and college, and I hadn’t had that much experience with other guys.” She shrugged. “What did I know? I didn’t know how love was supposed to feel.
“Until I met you,” she said, so softly that Bill wasn’t sure he hadn’t wished it.
“I—I guess it was just easier to go along with it than to disagree.” She smiled wanly through a sheen of moisture that Bill knew this time was from tears. “I figured that if all the other things were right, then love would grow. And, to tell the truth, I was ready to get out from under my parents’ influence and be on my own.
“Only Dick just proved to be a younger version of my parents. He didn’t want me to work.” She looked up, her eyes bright with indignation. “How could he exp
ect me to go along with that after I’d knocked myself out to succeed in nursing school?”
Bill drew in a deep breath and wondered if he was supposed to respond. How had this woman, who seemed so strong, been so easily led by her parents and fiancé?
“My parents didn’t understand me. My mother certainly didn’t. She didn’t seem to realize that the world had changed since she married Dad. That women were no longer content to play the dutiful military wife, to attend teas and to entertain generals when they happened to be in town. I felt like everyone expected me to be a Stepford Wife.
“So there I was, full of doubts, waiting for the ceremony to begin. My mother was fiddling with my hair, my attendants were giggling about how manly Dick was, and I suddenly felt like the walls were closing in around me.”
Darcy drew in a deep sigh as another gust of wind blew more rain against the windows. “I asked them to leave me alone for a few minutes to collect myself, and as soon as they were gone, I climbed out the window and dashed to my car. I changed clothes in a gas-station bathroom, stashed the dress in the back of the Volkswagon Bug, and you know the rest… .”
She chuckled. “I cut my finger on a safety pin and got some blood on the dress when I was rolling it up. I guess that’s why they think I was the victim of foul play.” She shrugged and raised her hands in a placating gesture. “So that’s the condensed version.
“I’m sorry if you were caught in the middle of it. I didn’t know your connection to my uncle at first.” She drew in a deep breath. “By the time I did, it was too late. I was already in love with you.”
Bill couldn’t think. Not with Darcy there in front of him in full and glorious color. Her explanation seemed so logical, so reasonable, but still… . It could be the sheer closeness of her impairing his judgment.
He had to get out of here. He had to think. He had to go someplace where he wouldn’t be distracted by her. Maybe it was a coward’s way. Maybe it wasn’t the way any of the other guys on the team would do it, but he couldn’t think clearly when Darcy was so close.
He turned and walked out the door, the wind slamming it behind him.
Darcy watched him go and tried not to jump to conclusions, but Billy’s response was crystal clear. The slamming door had illustrated it plainly.
Why couldn’t Billy see that she hadn’t intentionally set out to deceive him? Why was he so eager to get away from her that he’d stomped off into a thunderstorm?
At least, he’d taken the Jeep. She’d heard the engine start through a lull in the wind and seen the taillights as he’d torn down the lane. She whispered a prayer that he’d be safe, then set her mind to doing what she knew she must.
She’d call her family to tell them she was safe, then she’d be packed and ready by the time Billy returned. She’d take nothing that wasn’t hers. One thing was certain, she wouldn’t stay another night in this house where she was so obviously not wanted. Where she no longer belonged.
* * *
BILL DIDN’T KNOW how long he drove or why he ended up in the Reflection Garden in the Old Confederate Memorial Cemetery.
Maybe it was because his mother had devoted so much time to it when his Boy Scout troop had adopted the neglected graveyard as their community service project. The boys had only intended to clear the brush and keep it trimmed, but Momma had insisted that there had to be something pretty, something for the living to enjoy.
She had kept them busy for weeks, shoveling dirt, laying out paths, planting shrubs, flowers and bulbs. They hadn’t been too crazy about it at first, but once the project was finished they’d loved it, too.
But never as much as Momma had. She’d always said that besides her young ’uns, it was the only thing she had to speak for her, the woman she’d been. And it spoke well.
The storm had finally rained itself out and all that remained of it was the occasional flicker of lightning in the distance and the steady patter of rain as it dripped from the trees. Already the clouds were racing away, scudding across the sky and letting the stars peek through the breaks.
He stepped out of the car and found the path that led to the garden. His clothes were still damp from his dash through the rain, and when the cool breeze left by the storm blew, it chilled him. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was working this out. Making the right decision.
He found the concrete bench in the middle of the garden. It was wet, but he brushed the water off and sat anyway. It wasn’t as if he weren’t wet already. And he had to be here. He had a lot to think about. And maybe here, he could get it right.
He sat for a while listening to the drip-drop of the water sifting through the leaves. He heard the night birds and the crickets and the occasional call of an owl.
He heard his mother’s voice. “She loves you, you know,” she seemed to say. “She didn’t mean to lie to you.” Momma chuckled. “But you pure railroaded her into everything you two done.”
Bill could almost see his mother’s smile. “I reckon I ought to be mad as a wet hen about how you two fooled me, but your reasons were good. Darcy got caught up in everything, and then she didn’t know how to get out of it.”
“What about her family?”
“I reckon her family would surely be grateful to know that she’s alive and well and married to you instead of what they must think now. Go to her, son. Go to her. Before it’s too late.”
Bill was a logical man. He knew that he couldn’t possibly have heard his mother speak, but wherever the words of wisdom had come from they were the right ones. Why was he letting pride and hurt get in the way of the real thing? He loved Darcy, and he wouldn’t let her go without a fight.
Maybe he hadn’t told her so, but he did love her. And maybe if he told her, she’d respond in kind.
He stood up and looked around. The place was as still and as empty as it had been before, but he really did sense his mother’s presence. “I’m going, Momma. I’m going to tell her. Thank you.” He started to go, but he stopped.
“I love you, Momma,” he whispered to the wind.
* * *
DARCY WAS ALMOST packed when she heard the car. She stiffened her spine and steeled her resolve not to let him get to her. She wouldn’t let Billy see her cry.
She’d have plenty of time to cry the rest of her life.
She heard him fling open the door and come inside, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of going to him. Let him come to her.
Finally, he found her.
“I’ll have everything packed in a couple of minutes,” she said stiffly, without turning around. “You can take me to a motel like you promised that first night. Then I have no intention of taking up any more of your time.”
“What if I don’t want to take you?” Billy said, his voice husky, thick.
“Then I guess I’ll borrow Nettie’s car one last time. I’ll return it,” she answered sharply to cover the lump in her throat. She couldn’t look at him. She wouldn’t. Not yet, anyway. If she did she would cry.
“What if I don’t want you to go?”
Hope soared, but Darcy knew better than to count on it. “What do you mean?” She knew she sounded wary, but she had to know exactly where she stood.
“I love you, Darcy. Maybe we didn’t go about it in the normal way: love first, then marriage. But, I do love you.”
Darcy’s heart caught in her throat, and she couldn’t speak. Didn’t know what to say if she could. She turned to look at him, her eyes swimming with tears.
“I see now that most of the misunderstanding is my fault. I made assumptions I shouldn’t have. I didn’t ask enough questions. I just looked at you and assumed I knew who you were.” He chuckled wryly.
“Maybe I did. The real you, anyway. And if I’d known about your family tree, I might never have dared to look further.
Much less touch.” He paused for a moment, then stepped nearer. “I think I remember you saying that you love me. Is that true or was it just the heat of the moment?”
“No. Yes. Both, I guess,” she answered, her heart beating so rapidly that she could barely breathe much less think. “I do love you. I love you for the way you cared for your mother. I love you for the way you made me feel important, like I mattered. Yes, Billy Hays, I love you.”
She could see the relief on Billy’s face. “What do we want to do about it, then?” He stepped closer, but still a little too far.
Darcy drew a deep breath. “We-e-ll,” she said. “We could invite everyone to another wedding, and pretend it was our first…”
Billy shook his head. “No,” he said. “Then I’d have to pretend to wait to be with you. I want to shout it to the rooftops that I love you and you’re mine.”
“I guess this means I’ll have to look for another job.”
“Why?”
“I want to be more than just a weekend wife,” Darcy answered simply. “I want to live with you in Florida, and I want you to come home to me every day.”
“Hoo ah,” Billy cheered softly, then gathered her to him and held her as if he’d never let go. “There’s nothing I want more.”
He kissed her, and when he was finished staking his claim, Darcy drew back and Billy tried to pull her back to him.
She placed her finger on her lips. “One more thing,” she whispered, her voice husky with need. “Don’t you worry about my uncle. He’s the one man I really do have wrapped around my finger.”
“That’s not true,” Billy said as he lowered his head. “There are two.”
Then he lifted her chin and kissed her.
* * * * *
ISBN: 9781459226661
Copyright © 2011 by Bonnie Gardner
First published in 2002 by Harlequin Enterprises Limited under the title SGT. BILLY’S BRIDE
Copyright © 2002 by Bonnie Gardner
For Momma's Sake Page 20
