See Bride Run!

by Unknown

  “Darla really did look and sound terrible this morning, Sam,” Annie said as she made her way to Darla’s car.

  “She’ll be fully recovered when you get back. By the way, Darla can get real competitive when it comes to tips. You might want to avoid telling her how well you did on your first night.”

  “Thank you for telling me,” Annie said. “I certainly don’t want to say or do anything that might harm our new friendship. A new and unexpected warmth surged through her, and she almost wished she didn’t have to leave. But she had been worried about Darla all day, and she wanted to make sure the woman was okay. “Well, good night, Sam.”

  “Good night, Annie.”

  She climbed into the car and started the engine. Sam was still watching as she pulled from the parking lot and drove in the direction of Darla’s mobile home. Her concern for Darla suddenly shifted, replaced by thoughts of Sam Ballard.

  #

  When Annie pulled into the driveway of Darla’s mobile home, she was surprised to find the lights off, including the front one. She figured Darla must be sleeping. Luckily, she had the key. She groped for the door; fortunately, the key slipped easily into the lock. She stepped inside the trailer and felt for the light switch.

  “Hold it right there or I’ll blow your head off,” a male voice said, frightening Annie so badly, she thought her knees would collapse. The light came on, and she found herself facing the biggest man she’d ever seen. He had to be at least six-foot-six, with a barrel of a chest and thighs that made her think of tree trunks. His hair was jet-black, his jaw dark with stubble. He held a shotgun, and it was aimed at her.

  “I’m not armed,” she said, holding her hands over her head. “I have a little money. It’s yours if you want it. Just leave and don’t hurt us.”

  “Me leave?” he asked in disbelief. “Who the hell do you think you are telling me to get out of my own house?”

  “Bo, who are you talking to?” a sleepy Darla asked, coming down the hall in her bathrobe. “Oh, hi, Annie, how’d your first day go?”

  “You know this lady?” Bo asked.

  “Bo, put that shotgun down before you scare poor Annie.”

  “Who?”

  “Don’t you ever listen to anything I say?” Darla asked.

  “Annie’s staying here till she can get on her feet. I got her a job at the

  Dixieland Cafe. Don’t you recognize the uniform, numbskull?”

  Annie watched him lower the shotgun and thought her bladder would give.

  “Oh, yeah,” he said. A wide grin spread across his face as he grabbed her hand and pumped it furiously. “Nice to meet you, Annie. I’m Darla’s husband, Boswell Jenkins. Bo, for short,” he added.

  Annie looked at Darla. “I didn’t know you were married.”

  “Actually, Bo’s my ex-husband,” Darla said. “They sent him to prison for writing bad checks and a few other nonessentials. I was so mad, I divorced him.” She smiled. “But he’s out for good, and he’s promised to change his ways, so I’ve decided to take him back.” She punched him in the chest playfully. “Big ole goofball didn’t even tell me they’d decided to let him out early.”

  Bo pulled Darla tight against him and kissed her hard. “That’s because I wanted to surprise you, Baby. And make sure nobody was warming my side of the bed while I was away.”

  Darla put her arm around Annie. “How’d it go today?” she asked. “Make any good tips?”

  Annie had to pry her tongue loose from the roof of her mouth in order to speak. “I did okay, I guess.”

  “I’m sure you did fine,” Darla said. “And your tips will increase once you get the hang of things. Was Sam mad that I didn’t show up?”

  Annie was having a terrible time keeping up her end of the conversation. “He was at first, but he got over it.”

  “How ‘bout a cold beer, Annie?” Bo asked.

  She was glad he’d put his weapon away. “No, I’d better not. Listen, Darla, you won’t believe who offered to rent me her garage apartment today. Lillian Calhoun.”

  “No kidding?”

  “She said I could move in tonight, as a matter of fact. It all happened so fast.” She told Darla about wanting to sign up for classes at the college and how close Lillian’s place would be to work and school. “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind running me over to her place since I sort of promised I’d be there after work.” It was a lie, and Annie hoped Lillian wouldn’t mind her barging in at that hour, but she had no desire to spend the night at Darla’s with Bo and a shotgun on the premises.

  “Are you sure that’s what you want to do, honey?” Darla asked. “You know you’re welcome here.”

  “I know, and you’re very sweet to offer it to me, but I’d really like my own place. After living with my father most of my life, it’ll be a special treat.” She looked at Bo. “And I’m sure the two of you have a lot of catching up to do.”

  Darla and Bo exchanged a tender look. Finally, Darla turned to Annie. “I don’t need to drive you to Lillian’s. Bo’s pickup truck is parked in back—we decided it best to hide it so the town gossips wouldn’t have a heyday—anyway, he can take me to work tomorrow.”

  Annie couldn’t mask her relief. “Is it okay if I hang on to this uniform for a couple of days? Until I get one of my own?” she added.

  “Go ahead and keep it,” Darla said.

  “Oh, no, I—”

  “I have three more just like it,” Darla said. “Remind me tomorrow to tell you where to buy an extra. They aren’t expensive. Now, do you know how to get to Lillian’s place?” Annie was given brief directions before she was whisked out the door by an anxious Bo.

  “I promise I won’t try to shoot you next time you visit,” he said, grinning.

  She smiled. “Thank you.” Annie hurried out to the car. She couldn’t wait to get out of there, even if it meant sleeping in the backseat of Darla’s car.

  Annie was on her way in minutes. One thing Darla had not taken into consideration when she’d given directions to Lillian’s place was the fact that Annie knew absolutely nothing about Pinckney, or the landmarks that were supposed to help her find her way. It was after eleven o’clock by the time she found Lillian Calhoun’s house. The place was dark.

  Annie pulled away from the curb and drove for a few minutes, wondering what she was going to do. She was dog-tired, and her eyelids were beginning to sag. She’d passed a motel, but it hadn’t looked very appealing, and she was wondering if she crawled under the sheets whether she wouldn’t find herself sharing space with some unwanted critters, when suddenly she found herself in front of the Dixieland Cafe. The lights were still on, and Sam was sitting at the counter doing book work. Thinking maybe he could give her the name and address of a decent hotel, Annie pulled into a parking space out front. Sam was obviously deep in thought, because he didn’t look up until she knocked on the door. He glanced over his shoulder, then did a double take at the sight of her. He hurried to let her in.

  “What’s wrong?” he said quickly.

  “May I come in?”

  “Yeah, sure. Why aren’t you at Darla’s?”

  Annie told him about Bo and her reasons for not wanting to stay. “I was hoping you might know of a nice motel.”

  “So, Bo Jenkins is out of the slammer, huh?”

  She nodded. “Just got out today. Darla had no idea. I went by Lillian’s house. She has offered to rent me her garage apartment. But there wasn’t a light on anywhere, and I didn’t want to wake her.”

  “You don’t have to stay in a motel,” Sam said. “You can stay at my place.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Don’t give me that look. I have a mean housekeeper. She’ll protect you from me.”

  Annie sighed her relief. “Well, in that case. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

  “I wouldn’t have invited you otherwise.” He checked the clock over the cash register. “Damn, I didn’t know it was so late. Do you want to follow me?”

 
Annie hesitated. “Sam, are you sure? I feel like I’m imposing. All I’ve done is rely on other people since I got here. I really wanted to be independent, you know?”

  “Being independent doesn’t mean you can’t accept help when you’re in a jam.”

  Annie regarded him. He appeared to be so strong and confident, she was certain he’d never had to ask for help. “Well, I appreciate it,” she said.

  “Don’t mention it.”

  “Why are you still here?” she asked curiously as he began closing his ledger and stacking everything.

  “I was trying to get caught up with my book work. As usual I’m late filing my quarterly taxes.”

  “Why don’t you hire someone to do it?”

  “I fired my CPA because he screwed up everything. Which is why I’m in such a mess,” he added. He carried the books to the door, then, balanced them on one hip while he unlocked it. “Maybe I’ll hire you once you get your license,” he added as he motioned for her to go through first.

  She waited for him to lock up. “How many CPAs are there in Pinckney?” she asked.

  “Two or three, I guess.” He opened his Jeep and tossed the ledgers onto the front seat. “We can always use another one.”

  Annie followed Sam through town, in the opposite direction of where Darla lived. All the buildings and houses faded away until there was only blackness on both sides of the car.

  Finally, Sam turned off the main road and drove down a long winding drive until he reached a white two-story farmhouse. Annie parked behind him in a circular drive where rosebushes grew along a white fence.

  The porch light was on, giving Annie a clear look at the concrete porch that stretched across the front of the house, so unlike the wooden porches in new construction. Oversized rocking chairs shared space with glazed pots containing red geraniums, and a green metal glider sat at one end with a distressed coffee table of sorts that Annie suspected held trays of lemonade and sweet tea in the summer months.

  “I love old houses,” Annie said. “How old is this one?”

  “About sixty years old. It has been renovated a couple of times.” Sam unlocked the front door and stepped back so Annie could enter first. A large piece of furniture held a lamp that lit the hall leading from the front of the house to the very back, as well as a flight of stairs climbing to the second floor. Wide-planked floors, shiny with varnish squeaked beneath Annie’s feet.

  A door toward the back of the hall opened, and a plump woman with a dumpling face stepped out. She wore a pink bathrobe and matching sponge curlers in her hair. She gave a sniff of annoyance at the sight of Annie.

  “Well, Mr. Sam, what have we here?” she asked, her voice ringing with disapproval.

  “Martha Fender, meet Annie Hartford from Atlanta. She’ll be staying the night. I assume we have a guest room available.”

  The woman’s tone changed immediately. “Yes, of course. She can stay in the blue room. It has a nice view of the lake.”

  “You’re on the water?” Annie asked. When Sam nodded, she went on. “Do you fish?”

  “I don’t have a lot of time for fishing, but Martha brings her friends and family out from time to time.”

  “I love fishing,” Martha said. “It’s so relaxing.”

  “Do you catch many fish?” Annie asked.

  “Oh, yes. That lake is full of wide-mouth bass. We always have a big fish fry afterward.”

  “I’ve never fished before,” Annie confessed. “Perhaps I can join you sometime, but only if you invite me to the fish fry afterward because I love fried fish with lots of tartar sauce,” she added. “I can practically eat my weight in fish and hushpuppies.” She paused. “In the meantime, please accept my apologies for disturbing you. I unexpectedly found myself with no place to stay tonight, and Mr. Ballard was kind enough to invite me to spend the night beneath his roof. Not that I’m surprised. Everyone has been so kind since I arrived.”

  Martha seemed to warm toward Annie. “That’s the way we do things in Pinckney,” she said. “We don’t turn people out. Are y’all hungry?”

  Annie hated to admit that she was starving. Bad enough that she was presently homeless.

  “I’ll make a couple of sandwiches,” Sam told Martha. “Go back to bed. I’ll make sure Annie gets settled in.”

  “You’ll find plenty of towels and toiletry items in the bathroom cabinet,” Martha said. “Let me know if you need anything.” She took a second look at Annie’s uniform. “Do you have luggage?”

  Annie was further embarrassed to admit that she had the clothes on her back and nothing else. Sam seemed to pick up on it.

  “It’s a long story, Martha,” he said. “I’ll lend her one of my pajama shirts.”

  “Very well,” she said and started down the hall. “Goodnight. Sleep well, Annie.”

  “She’s nice,” Annie said once she heard the bedroom door close.

  “She can be grouchy if the mood strikes her,” Sam replied. “Are you hungry? I forgot to eat dinner tonight, and I didn’t see you eat anything.”

  “I had a biscuit.”

  “That’s hardly enough to keep you going. Come with me.” He led her toward the back of the house and into the kitchen. He motioned to an island in the center of the room. Although it contained drawers and cabinets for storage, one side was devoted to seating. “Sit down and rest your feet,” Sam said.

  “Gladly.” Annie was thankful to do just that after being on them all day.

  As Sam pulled out packs of meat and cheese, she studied the kitchen. It was enormous, with white cabinets, wide plank floors, and stainless steel appliances. “How long have you lived here?” she asked.

  Sam pulled out a jar of dill pickles and set them on the island. “Almost five years.”

  “Do you have family nearby?”

  “No. My parents moved to a retirement community in Hilton Head several years back so my dad could play golf every day, but they visit every few months. I have a younger sister,” he added. “She’s married with two boys, ages three and four. She and her husband live in Connecticut. He’s a stockbroker in New York. And a damn good one, I might add because he has doubled my investments.

  “Do the two of you keep in touch?” Annie asked, recalling how often she and Bradley called each other once he left for college.”

  “We talk once a week. Everybody comes here for Christmas. Which is cool,” he added, “because this place has five bedrooms. One belongs to Martha, but there is always plenty of room. We also go on vacation together.”

  “So, what do you want? Ham, salami, roast beef, sliced chicken?”

  Annie stood. “I’ll have whatever you’re having,” she said, “but I really don’t expect you to wait on me. If you’ll tell me where the glasses are, I’ll get us something to drink. I’d like to have milk.”

  Sam pointed to a cabinet. “I’ll have the same,” he said. How about ham and Swiss cheese on rye?”

  “Perfect,” she said. Annie grabbed the milk carton from the refrigerator and filled two glasses. Once she ate a sandwich, she helped Sam put things away.

  “Take a look around,” Sam said. “Make yourself at home.”

  Annie peeked into several rooms. A formal living room ran the length of the front of the house. The furniture was clearly of good quality with a couple of antiques thrown in as accent pieces.

  The den was large, yet cozy, with its stone fireplace and overstuffed furniture in navy and khaki stripes. An entertainment center took up one wall, boasting an enormous flat-screen TV that Annie guessed was at least sixty inches wide. She chuckled. “I’m thinking you should buy a larger flat screen.”

  “Hey, I need a big one. This is where the guys come during football season.”

  “I like your place,” she said, returning to the kitchen. “But you’re missing something.”

  He looked at her. “Like what?”

  “A family,” she said. “And a big dog lying in front of the fireplace,” she added.

  “I wo
uldn’t mind having a golden Lab,” he said, “but I’m not too keen on the idea of having a family.”

  “You’re going to let one bad experience affect the rest of your life?”

  “I like things just the way they are,” he said matter-of-factly and in a tone that did not invite conversation.

  “I should probably mind my own business,” she said. “Besides, I’m not exactly an expert on relationships or I would not have skipped out on my wedding, nor would I be practically broke and in hiding. If it weren’t for the kindness of others, I’d probably be sleeping in a homeless shelter tonight.”

  “You’re not exactly destitute, Annie. I know who your father is, and I know he’s worth mega millions.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Hartford Iron and Steel is only three hours from here,” he said. “Most people have heard of it. I also read a lengthy article about your father and his company some months back. Plus, Hester hired someone to check you out.”

  “So much for trying to keep a low profile,” she said.

  “Want to know what Harry said when he found out you were the only heir to a vast fortune?”

  “I can’t wait,” she muttered.

  Sam chuckled. “He said you must be crazy to walk away from all that money.”

  “What did you say?”

  “Well, I have an advantage over Hester since I also checked your old man out on the Internet. Some of the remarks about your father were unflattering. I told Hester you were probably tired of being bullied.”

  Annie looked surprised. “You actually said that?” When he nodded, she went on. “That’s exactly why I left. It wasn’t all about him trying to push me into marriage; that was just one of many ways he tried to control me, and I suspect he did the same thing to my mother.”

  “What’s the story on her?”

  “My father told so many lies it’s hard to know what really happened. When Bradley and I were four years old, he told us she was leaving and we would never see her again.

  “Do you remember her?”

  Annie shook her head. “No. The only thing I remember is being so sad that I tried not to think of her. I suppose I blocked a lot. Our housekeeper, Vera, became our nanny, and she raised us. Bradley and I adored her. I still do.”