“That’s right.” Dave glanced at the aging Timex that had once been his father’s. “It’s five after,” he said as if pronouncing a grave sentence. He narrowed his right eye and dared her to refute his claim.
She looked good—really good. As good as she’d looked every other time Dave had seen her. In that long skirt and sandals, Eddi Boswick appeared to be more an elegant queen of the castle than a lawyer.
But from what he’d heard around town these last few weeks, Miss Boswick was a formidable foe in court. The whole town was talking about the victory won for the Farmer family. From what Dave could gather, Eddi had filed suit on behalf of the Farmers and saved their family estate from the clutches of a land developer who wanted to gobble up their twenty acres as a part of a new roadway.
Dave couldn’t deny that he liked a woman with some grit. The longer he stood here with Eddi, the more he liked what he saw. The more he enjoyed the view, the more Dave lingered over the memory of her in his arms.
He scowled and glanced toward the lady standing next to Eddi. She appeared close to Eddi’s age and had the same long nose and pouty lips. He nodded and figured they must be related.
“Welcome,” Dave said and barely lifted one corner of his mouth. Her cool, blue-eyed observation left Dave unmoved. Figuring she was safe, he relaxed a bit and increased the smile.
“This is my sister, Jenny Boswick,” Eddi’s voice was barely civil. “Jenny, Dave Davidson.” By the time Eddi got to his name, she sounded as if he were the personification of the bubonic plague.
“Jenny, good to meet you,” Dave drawled and didn’t resist the impish urge that prompted him to defend himself. “Don’t believe anything your sister tells you about me. I’m really a nice guy.”
“Oh, I’m sure you are,” Jenny agreed and extended her hand.
Dave took it for a brief shake. As their fingers parted, her gaze sharpened to scrutiny. Soon, scrutiny turned to certainty—a certainty that Jenny had seen him before. A trickle of sweat oozed down his chest. With a duck of his head, Dave pretended interest in scratching his collie’s ear. Bo leaned against his leg and closed his eyes. A pleasurable grunt rumbled from the dog’s chest while a knot of anxiety formed in Dave’s.
Whether Jenny knew about Dave or not was anybody’s guess. If she was half as tenacious as her sister, she could easily discover his identity. Dave gave Bo’s ear a final rub.
He looked up at Eddi. “Are you going to stand here all evening or go on into the practice?” he asked.
“I wondered if you’d forgotten we were here,” Eddi answered. “We were waiting on an invitation from the host.” She flicked her long French braid over her shoulder. “In the civilized world, it’s not considered polite to just march into somebody’s home without an invitation.”
“Oh, well, let’s be civilized, by all means.” Dave twisted the knob and shoved on the polished maple door. The door moved only a few inches when it hit an obstacle who yelled.
“Yikes!” Calvin exclaimed. “Watch out, will ya? There’s a person here!”
“Oops!” Dave reached for the knob, but Calvin whipped open the door. “What’s taking you so—” He stopped talking the second he spotted Jenny.
“I was being held hostage,” Dave claimed and waited for his friend to laugh.
Calvin remained silently focused upon Eddi’s sister. Eddi rolled her eyes as if Dave’s comment were ludicrous. Calvin barely acknowledged Eddi and stepped in front of Dave.
“Hi,” he said. “My name’s veterinarian. I’m the town Calvin Barclay. Are you new in town?”
Dave released a single guffaw that went unnoticed by both Jenny and Calvin. His friend didn’t seem to have a clue that he’d jumbled his introduction, and Jenny didn’t seem to care. She demurely shook his hand, and Dave half expected harp music to burst from the cloudless sky.
“I’m Jenny Boswick—Eddi’s sister,” she explained. “We—my sister and mom and I—are just visiting for the weekend.”
“So your sister and mom are here, too?” Calvin looked toward the yard. A longhorn’s moo floated upon the humid breeze that tossed Jenny’s ponytail as if she were a carefree teenager.
“No, we left them at Eddi’s place,” Jenny explained. “I just came because I was interested in the play.” Jenny’s attention drifted to her hand, which Calvin still grasped.
Oh no, Dave groaned to himself. I smell trouble.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” Calvin said and eyed her left hand, as if in search of a wedding band. He released her fingers, shoved his hands into his slacks pockets, and pulled them back out. He crossed his arms, uncrossed them, and stammered, “Uh . . . w-would you like to join us?” Calvin stepped aside and offered his arm as if he were a British gentleman.
Dave wrinkled his brow as he witnessed his friend morphing into a cross between Barney Fife and Prince Charming.
“Mrs. DeBloom is threatening to start casting within the next few minutes,” Calvin continued. “We’re all on pins and needles, wondering who is going to get what part.”
“Of course. I’d love to,” Jenny said. She took Calvin’s arm and stepped in front of Dave.
Calvin ushered her through the door. “If you look too interested, you might find yourself with a part.” The closing door cut off any more of his teasing remarks.
Dave blinked. “The blockhead just shut the door on us,” he said.
Eddi’s lips curled as if she’d eaten cactus. “A lot of help she is,” she spewed. “I brought her to—” She stopped and looked at Dave. With a huff, Eddi brushed past him, opened the front door, and marched inside.
Dave offered a final pat to Bo and a quick perusal of the east pasture. His herd of longhorns languidly grazed the emerald pasture as if they didn’t have one concern. Dave had added two new bulls to the group this morning. The other males had been disturbed most of the day, but now they appeared settled.
Satisfied, Dave followed Eddi inside. The smell of brewing coffee and his aunt’s cheese dip mingled with Eddi’s sweet fragrance. Despite Dave’s commitment to self control, his stomach fluttered.
To the left, he offered one hard stare at the portrait hanging over the dining room’s fireplace. The images, ensconced in a simple oak frame, jolted Dave back to reality. His late mother and father smiled back at him as if they were the happiest couple who ever lived. Dave knew differently. Despite the surface appearance of matrimonial felicity, the artist hadn’t missed the hint of desperate resignation in his parents’ eyes. Eyes that were equally as dark as Dave’s. Eyes hinting that Jacob and Karen Davidson endured a marriage that resembled a perpetual civil war. Blond and petite, Karen Davidson seemed the personification of the Southern belle. But beneath the gentle facade lay a steel disposition that demanded her husband comply. Jacob Davidson not only refused to comply to any of Karen’s wishes, he expected Karen to fold herself into his life and his goals without a question for hers. Together, the two had lived a lie. At the church they pastored, they presented themselves as a blissful married couple. At home, they remained at each other’s throats. As a teenager, Dave vowed to never marry if his parents’ misery was the inevitable result.
Dave moved past the dining room and neared Eddi. Miss Boswick was as blond as his mother and probably twice as strong-willed. Whether she would insist upon battling with her husband was an unknown. And it will remain that way! Dave declared. The potential was there enough. Those kitten-soft eyes of hers held a streak of steel smack through the middle. Her growing reputation in court validated that the woman wasn’t afraid of the devil himself.
Eddi stood at the base of the curved stairway, looking from left to right, as if she were a little girl lost in a giant department store. The image almost tempted him to take pity upon her. Looks can be deceiving, Dave told himself and annihilated all benevolent urges.
“They’re all in the back room,” he drawled in an emotionless voice and pointed through the formal living room. “This way.” He cocked his head to the right towa
rd a room his aunt had insisted on making look like a furniture store.
“Nice place,” Eddi commented, as if her admission were a statement of fact and nothing more.
“So I’ve been told,” Dave answered and attempted to hide his surprise. Most women fell into a round of ardent babbling over his home. At that point, the single ones usually decided Dave was prime matrimonial material. “I built it to suit Aunt Maddy. She insisted. And—” Dave stopped himself. No use explaining that the home was the replica of his mother’s dream home, right down to the grand piano mere feet away. Even though she and his father didn’t get along, Dave still loved her and missed her. Somehow, the house made him feel as if she were with him.
He observed his dusty boots and figured he was leaving a trail across the cream-colored carpet. The housekeeper would not be happy.
“Hope you left at least one room for yourself,” Eddi said and whisked past the piano.
“I did.” He stepped in beside her and didn’t expound on his haven in the backyard. It was none of her business, anyway. “The group’s at the end of this hallway,” he explained as they stepped into a short corridor.
Laughter drifted from the pool room, and Calvin Barclay’s voice floated above the mixture of voices. “Go ahead and laugh, then!” he quipped. “But what man doesn’t get his tongue tied in the presence of a beautiful woman?”
Dave didn’t bother to hide his groan this time. Calvin was clearly smitten with Jenny Boswick. If Jenny discovered who he was and Calvin and she got cozy, then Calvin would eventually find out about Dave. If Calvin found out, he might leak the information to his nosy sister, Carissa Barclay. She would leak the information to their mother, who’d promptly tell the ladies’ mission auxiliary. Within twenty-four hours, the facts would be all over town.
He sensed Eddi’s critical stare. Her interpretation of his groan was probably not to his advantage. Dave imagined numerous things she must be thinking—all in defense of her sister. Presently, he didn’t care.
Dave neared the pool room turned drama chamber and paused for Eddi to enter before him. The smell of cheese dip and coffee originated here, and Dave’s stomach rumbled. Before the group arrived, he’d barely had time to shower, much less eat.
“There you are, my dear!” Madelynne DeBloom, dressed in her typical straight dress and flat shoes, stood beside the refreshment bar laden with sandwiches and snacks. The French doors behind her ushered in a shower of evening sunshine that lent a festive glow to the room’s activities and highlighted the crackle of excitement in the air.
Mrs. DeBloom removed the narrow glasses from the end of her nose and observed her sister’s son. Dave nodded toward the group, all reclining in chairs they’d transported from the theater’s basement. Calvin and Jenny stood beside the pool table that had been moved to the corner. A makeshift stage claimed the opposite corner. Dave’s hired hand, Francis Schmidt, had spent the weekend building it.
“I guess we can all get started,” Aunt Maddy continued.
Dave slipped a hand into his jeans pocket and leaned against the doorframe while Eddi sashayed toward her sister. Her elegant skirt swished just above her strappy sandals, and Dave glowered at the thing. He wished she’d have the decency to wear something ugly for once.
“As I was saying . . .” his aunt rustled a stack of papers lying on the refreshment bar, “after a lot of thought and prayer, I’ve decided to renovate Huntington House into a dinner theater. So our first performance of Pride and Prejudice will be there instead of at the theater, as first planned.”
A polite ripple of applause punctuated the lady’s speech, and she nodded with a regal air that left Dave smiling. Aunt Maddy always acted as if her every decision should be applauded.
“As you all know, the city is debating whether to repair the old theater, construct a new one, or forgo a civic theater altogether. I believe that renovating Huntington House is the perfect answer for our group, so we can stay on track no matter what the city decides. This is a long-time dream of mine. I’ve wanted to own a dinner theater since my dear husband died, but . . .” she paused as if the next scrap of honesty was too much a strain to speak. “But I’ve not had the funds until now.” She propped her reading glasses back on her nose. “Thanks to a benevolent donor who has set up the fund to help our city recover, there will be some extra money for me to renovate Huntington House, aside from what the insurance will cover. I’m really excited!” She shook her head and her eyes glistened as if she were a six-year-old on Christmas morning.
Dave shifted his weight and adopted a disinterested persona. No sense in giving anyone a clue that he was the “benevolent donor.”
“Now, tonight, I’ve decided I’m going to start by announcing whom I’ve chosen for the play’s roles,” Mrs. DeBloom continued. She picked up a paper from the top of her pile and eyed it with interest.
Dave’s attention wandered past his thin aunt and out the glass doors behind her. His land stretched to the base of an imperial hill and beyond. Fifty yards behind his home stood a small brick building that could easily be turned into a one-room apartment. For now, the necessary structure served as the haven he’d chosen not to discuss with Eddi. Dave hadn’t consulted Aunt Maddy about one element of its interior or exterior. He shifted his weight from the doorjamb, and his mind wandered to the reason for the building. If Dave let himself, he would spend every waking moment out there and neglect his ranch and financial management. That would defeat the building’s purpose. Presently, he allowed himself two hours a day in his haven, and no more.
“. . . my nephew, Dave Davidson.”
The mention of his name tugged Dave’s attention back to his aunt. A murmur rippled across the small audience as if they were stunned. Dave shot a glance toward Calvin.
“You old goat!” Calvin crowed. The sun christened his friend’s fair hair and accented the pink scar along his jaw line. “You took the part right out from under me, didn’t you?”
A whistle preceded a round of applause, and Dave pieced together the reason. His aunt had just announced that he had agreed to play Darcy. How that happened was anybody’s guess. Looking back, Dave realized Aunt Maddy had approached him last night with an agenda. One minute Dave had been stubbornly adhering to his decision to stay out of the play, the next, he heard himself say, “Oh, okay, Aunt Maddy. Anything for you.” Sometimes Dave wondered if his mother had learned her manipulative skills from a master—her elder sister. Long ago, Dave had determined that his aunt could convince a cat to bark if she so chose.
He lifted his hand. “I figured it was harmless to agree. I’m sure you’ll all be begging Aunt Maddy to replace me after the first practice anyway.”
New laughter abounded.
Dave glanced back at Calvin. “You’ll probably wind up with the part by nine tonight.”
“Oh no, he won’t,” Mrs. DeBloom cut in. “He’s playing the part of Charles Bingley.”
More applause underscored the announcement.
“You people are starting to act like the audience on The Price Is Right,” Dave groused good-naturedly.
Jenny’s burst of laughter opened the door for the whole group’s mirth. Dave’s attention drifted from Jenny to her sister. Whether Eddi heard his comment or not was anybody’s guess. Her focus rested on the French doors and beyond. Dave narrowed his eyes and wondered if she’d spotted his haven.
Cheri Locaste stepped beside Eddi and made a comment. With a pleasant smile, Eddi turned her attention to the high school English teacher, who seemed bent on choosing the plainest attire. Cheri’s long, dark hair was pulled into a simple ponytail at the nape of her neck. The style did little to compliment her oval face, void of cosmetics. Aunt Maddy had told Dave last night that Cheri would be playing the part of Elizabeth Bennet, which placed her as his leading lady. That choice suited him fine. Nothing about Cheri Locaste’s plain appearance and colorless personality moved him. Dave would have stubbornly refused to play Darcy if the leading lady had been assigned to a
ny woman who might take the role a little too seriously. He glanced across the crowd and counted exactly three women who fell into that category. Four, if you considered Eddi Boswick.
Dave scrutinized the tips of his boots and debated whether or not Eddi would have enjoyed playing opposite him. No doubt the sparks had flown when they were in each other’s arms after the tornado. But so had Eddi’s disdain—more than once. With a satisfied grunt, Dave decided that Eddi would have been as loath to play his leading lady as he would be to play her hero.
Mrs. DeBloom cut through the group’s revelry for her next announcement. “I thought long and hard in assigning the role for Elizabeth Bennet. Last night, I was settled upon one person.” She allowed Dave a sheepish grin, and he tensed. “But I lay awake until midnight worrying about my first choice until at last I knew I must change my mind.” Her smile increased as she observed Eddi Boswick.
Dave’s eyes widened. His palms moistened. His back stiffened. “Elizabeth Bennet needs to be played by a strong woman who can command the stage and not shrink from Darcy’s imperious ways.” Mrs. DeBloom stood on her toes for a second as she waved her arm in theatrical grace. “I firmly believe the best choice for that role lies with Eddi Boswick.”
Five
“But I wanted to play the part of Jane,” Eddi squeaked. Her faint claim was lost in the group’s revelry. As Mrs. DeBloom continued to announce her choice for characters, Eddi frantically glanced toward Dave. He stared at the floor, his face as rigid as granite.
A frenzied urge to run nearly proved too strong to ignore. If she played Elizabeth and Dave played Darcy, the two would have to spend hours in each other’s company. A summer full of practices stretched into September. Then the play would start and run every weekend the whole month of October. By November, she would have spent more time with Dave Davidson than with her own sister. Her legs weakened, and Eddi wondered if this were a twisted nightmare that would soon end.
First Impressions: A Contemporary Retelling of Pride and Prejudice Page 5
