Texas Wedding

by Nancy Robards Thompson

  As she used the remote fob to unlock her car door, she noticed the same red Honda that had sped by a moment ago pass by again. This time it was going slower. About ten yards past her office, the car stopped, idling in the middle of the street. AJ craned her neck to see the license plate number, but it was a little too far away for her to read clearly.

  Was that an N9DK or M40R? Shesh, I need to get my eyes checked. She took a few steps toward the car to see if she could read the tag better.

  She couldn’t. What she could see, however, was that the Honda had fancy wheels—“tricked out” was the expression she’d heard her twelve-year-old nephew use to describe cars that had been...err...fixed up. In the next instant, the car sped away. The squeal of burning rubber sliced through the still night air.

  As the silence settled around her again, it brought with it an uneasiness that made the hair on her arms stand on end. Kids, she thought, trying to reassure herself. It’s just a kid trying to be cool.

  The same kids who set fire to the brush in the square?

  Not wanting to be standing there if the vehicle made a third pass down the street, she got into her car, locked her door, and started the engine. Should she call the sheriff? If so, what would she say? That a red Honda had been driving too fast, and then it stopped? No laws broken. No property damaged. Her own peace of mind a little worse for the wear, perhaps. But really nothing worth bothering the sheriff over. Instead, she would mention the incident at the town hall meeting tomorrow night and make others aware.

  Yes, that’s what she’d do. She buckled her seat belt. For now, she had to put it out of her mind. To help with that, she dialed Shane’s number via the hands-free device built into her car.

  When he answered, she said, “I understand you come highly recommended in the catering world because you’re considerably skilled.”

  He chuckled. “Is that the word on the street?” His voice was sexy and low. The sound made her melt a little inside, and she instantly knew why thoughts of him had possessed her tonight—visions of a man in uniform...or out of uniform—

  Oh, no, I did not just think that.

  Oh, yes I did.

  She smiled to herself as she started for home, enjoying the contrast of the heat of her flushed cheeks against the cool night air. It made her shiver. Shane was so much fun to flirt with. The thrill of the blush and the rush of flirting in the darkened privacy of her car...

  “Yeah, that’s what they’re saying. Are you available for a wedding on October 8?”

  “Why, are you proposing?” he asked.

  “Maybe I am.” She smiled, trying to think of a wittier comeback, until she realized the stoplight she’d just driven through was a very hot yellow. She needed to quit daydreaming about Shane and keep her mind on the road. Glancing in her rearview mirror, she saw that the car behind her hadn’t bothered to stop, either. He was right behind her, tailgating. No doubt, by that time, the light had been the same shade as his car—red.

  The red Honda.

  AJ’s heart hammered. Even though the car’s side windows were tinted, which meant she’d been unable to see in as the car was parked by her office, now the car was following so closely behind her that she could make out at least two guys in the front seat. They looked young. Though she couldn’t be completely certain, she had a sinking feeling they were among the boys who didn’t get caught the night of the fire in the park.

  That’s when she began to panic.

  “This is going to sound really crazy.” Her voice shook a little. “But I think I’m being followed.”

  She relayed the story of the car’s double pass down Robinson Street, how it had stopped and then sped off. She told him that from a distance, it looked like it could be some of the guys from the other night in the park.

  “I don’t like the sound of this,” Shane said. “Are you near the sheriff’s station?”

  “Not really. Actually, I’m only a couple of blocks from home.”

  She tightened her grip on the wheel.

  “Whatever you do, don’t go home. Instead, make a series of left turns to make sure it’s not just a coincidence.”

  She did as Shane advised. “He’s still behind me.”

  “Drive to the sheriff’s office right now. Just go. I’ll meet you there.”

  * * *

  The following morning, Shane came over and picked up AJ and took her to get her car. They’d left it parked at the sheriff’s station. Shane hoped it would serve as a reminder to the thug in the red Honda that he’d better not mess with her.

  He’d wanted her to come home with him, but she’d shyly refused—even though her vibe suggested she might be tempted. He hadn’t expected her to say yes. Still, he’d offered and he’d hoped. But it was probably for the best that they didn’t get physically involved. He was leaving sooner than he wanted to admit, and AJ wasn’t a short-term fling.

  So instead of her spending the night at his place, he’d driven her home in his truck. They’d refused the offer for the sheriff to follow them home and secure the perimeter of AJ’s house. Shane hadn’t thought it a bad idea, but AJ had argued that a cop car outside her home would draw too much attention.

  “That’s what this expensive burglar alarm I invested in is for. Plus, I think the guy—or guys, whatever the case may be—are just punks. If they’re trying to scare me because I talked to the sheriff after one of them set fire in the park, I refuse to let them win. Me staying with you, or you staying with me and the sheriff getting involved would mean they’d won.”

  Really, he couldn’t argue with that.

  After he’d taken her to get her car, they’d agreed to meet at the town hall meeting for the neighborhood watch kickoff.

  Even though it wasn’t his neighborhood, Shane had some concerns at the construction suite, and after what had happened with the punks, as AJ had called them, trying to scare her last night, Shane intended to go and at least put in his two cents.

  Shane had zero tolerance for punks, vandals and bullies, because that lot had a tendency to graduate into careers as hardened criminals—or worse yet, terrorists who killed innocent people for sport.

  By the time he got to the community center where the meeting was being held, it was standing room only.

  He’d had to work a little later than he’d expected, so he didn’t have time to go home and change clothes. Instead, he wore his uniform. When he walked in, heads turned and people shot him curious glances. He was used to that when he was in a largely civilian community. Nothing screamed stranger louder than a man in uniform. Thank goodness AJ waved at him from the front. She’d saved him a seat. He wove though the crowd and made his way up front.

  “There you are.” She stood and gave him a hug. “I was hoping you’d make it.”

  “Are you kidding? After last night, I wouldn’t miss it. Everything okay today?”

  She stiffened and her smile faded. She looked vulnerable for a split second. “The sheriff told me they found out the red Honda we saw last night was stolen.”

  Apparently, AJ had given them enough info—even with her nearsighted misreading of the tags—that they were able to call up the records.

  AJ breathed in and shut her eyes. Then, when she opened them she raised her chin a little and nodded resolutely. “Everything will be fine.”

  “Yes, it will,” Shane said. “I’ll make sure of it.” And he meant that.

  Everyone took their seats and the meeting started. AJ and Shane, along with a handful of people, shared their stories and concerns. The representative from the sheriff’s office instructed them on how to set up the watch program. The group elected neighborhood captains—the ones who would be in charge of gathering names, addresses and phone numbers of the residents in their designated areas and distributing lists so that the citizens could stay in touch. Signs would go up around town next week advising that crime would not be tolerated in Celebration, Texas.

  In the meantime, residents were advised to be aware of their surround
ings. Know their neighbors. Look out for each other and report anything suspicious.

  The meeting was short and sweet. Now, Shane was looking forward to helping take AJ’s mind off last night’s scare by finally having the opportunity to play their long-awaited game of hoops. And, of course, she’d packed a picnic for them to enjoy in the park afterward.

  “Are you ready to go?” Shane asked.

  “Yes, let’s get out of here,” AJ said.

  He put his hand on the small of her back and helped maneuver her through the lingering crowd.

  They’d almost made it to the door, when Shane felt a hand on his shoulder.

  He turned to see Agnes Sherwood, peering down her nose at him.

  “Oh, hi, Grandma,” AJ said. “I didn’t realize you were here tonight.”

  “Hello, dear.” Agnes spoke to AJ, but her unwavering gaze scrutinized Shane. She was sizing him up. “Yes, I was sitting in the back. So, you’re the one who helped Agnes Jane last night.”

  “Yes, ma’am. It was the least I could do.”

  She nodded, with no expression on her drawn face. “I appreciate you looking after her. You are the same person I met at the food festival, correct? The unfortunate one whom my granddaughter doused with barbecue sauce?”

  “Yes, that guy is me, and I must say, I love AJ’s barbecue sauce.”

  Agnes made a noise somewhere between a humph and a grunt, and Shane saw AJ tense up. It probably wasn’t noticeable to anyone else, but it didn’t escape Shane.

  “Grandma, it was nice to see you,” AJ said, crisply, “but we need to be going. We have plans.”

  “You have a date?” Agnes asked. “Where?”

  “We are playing basketball, and then we’re feasting on a picnic of leftovers from a tasting I did last night.”

  Shane had never actually seen a person’s nose curl in disgust...until now.

  “Really, Agnes Jane? Basketball is such a vulgar sport. It’s so unladylike and common. Please don’t embarrass me by acting like a street urchin.”

  With another humph-grunt, Agnes turned and walked away. If Shane thought he’d scored some points at the start of this encounter, he definitely felt as though AJ’s grandmother had found him lacking in the end, taking her granddaughter on such a “vulgar” date. But he didn’t care. With all due respect, Agnes was not invited on the date.

  Shane glanced at AJ, who was shooting daggers with her eyes at her grandmother’s back.

  “Shane, I’m so sorry.” Glancing back at him, she looked mortified. “I really believe my grandmother meant well. At least, at first. If it’s any conciliation, I’ve never heard my grandmother thank anyone before. Especially not a guy I was interested in.”

  Wait. What? Back up there. Shane wanted to ask her to repeat that last part. The part about the “guy she was interested in.” But he didn’t. Instead, he tried to lighten her mood. “Personally, I’ll accept your grandmother’s expression for what it is. Gratitude. She may not know how to express it, but I sense she’s relieved that you’re okay.”

  And, by the way, the guy you’re interested in says the feeling’s mutual.

  AJ shrugged. “I guess so. She just had an awful way of expressing it.”

  “So, I’ll take the good and toss out what doesn’t work. Okay? Now, how about we go shoot some hoops, Agnes Jane?”

  * * *

  “It’s AJ to you, mister,” she said as she went in low and smooth and stole the basketball right out of Shane’s hands. “Especially after I just picked your pocket like that.”

  “Pocket picker,” he shouted and laughed as she dunked the ball. “I think I’ll alert the neighborhood watch captain.”

  “Oooh, well, if you insist on trash talking, I have to remind you that Grandmother does have you pegged as a transient since you’re living in the pay-by-the-week projects.”

  Shane went for the rebound. “Technically, I am transient and I am living in the pay-by-the-week projects. You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  “I didn’t say it, Grandmother did.”

  AJ caught the ball and skirted Shane for another dunk.

  He laughed. “When I was younger, we used to joke about people who invested all their money in fancy cars and didn’t save anything for the future, and still lived with their mama. At least I drive a fancy truck and live in an apartment. That shows that my priorities aren’t out of whack.”

  It was supposed to be a joke. The whole trash-talking round of hoops was supposed to be all in fun. But it made her think about how Shane had lost his family. She racked her brain for something funny to steer the conversation in another direction.

  But by that time they were both out of breath.

  “This was a great workout,” AJ said. “Why don’t we take a break and eat? I don’t know about you, but suddenly I’m starving.”

  “Me, too,” Shane agreed.

  They got the picnic basket and a small cooler out of her car and found a grassy spot under a tree that was dripping with Spanish moss. They spread out the blue-and-red-plaid blanket, and AJ set to work preparing the plates with what remained of the Lapham tasting. As any good caterer with an eye for hospitality would do, she’d made more than enough. Frances and Jade had eaten their fill and there was just about enough left for two more meals. More than enough, but nothing would go to waste.

  “Sorry to serve you leftovers,” she said. “But honestly, the flavors are always better the next day.”

  She garnished the plate with parsley and vegetables that had been cut and curled and handed a plate to Shane.

  “This doesn’t look like the leftovers I ate when I was growing up. And now, most of my leftovers come from a takeout container or a doggy bag. This food looks fit for a society wedding.”

  AJ smiled. Oh, how she loved food and the effect it had on people. That was because every dish she created was infused with her passion for cooking. She watched Shane as he was enjoying a bite of cold lobster salad that she’d made from the leftover lobster tails, and the sheer bliss on his face as he chewed made her want to fall in love.

  The thought unleashed a swarm of butterflies, flying in figure-eight formation in her stomach. She’d fed plenty of people since Danny had died, but the possibly of dating, much less giving her heart away again, hadn’t seemed in the realm of available options.

  The sensible part of her wanted to pull back, play it safe. But the butterflies had already flown off with her heart and even the sensible part of her couldn’t do a thing to stop it.

  She took a deep breath against the rush.

  Oh, no, this was not good.

  It was absolutely wonderful.

  Dusk was beginning to fall, bringing with it a cool breeze and a melancholy sunset. To bring herself back to earth, she lit some small votive candles and said, “Tell me about your childhood—and those leftovers you ate when you were growing up.”

  Shane stopped midbite, fork poised in front of his mouth. He set the fork on his plate and seemed to be contemplating the question.

  “If you don’t mind talking about it. I know losing your family must have been an incredible shock. But I’m sure they played a big part in forming you into the person you are, and I was just wondering if you wanted to talk about them.”

  She, of course, would have to be willing to talk about Danny. And she was willing. In fact, it seemed as if telling Shane about him might be a way to get Danny’s blessing before exorcising his ghost. She didn’t want to forget about him, but she needed to set her heart free from the shackles that had been holding her back.

  “My mother was incredible—both of my parents were, actually—but my mom was completely selfless. Pretty much lived her life for her kids. We’d just moved back to Italy that summer after I graduated from high school and she was all excited about exposing us to European culture. She wasn’t a very good cook, but she’d decided she was going to take some cooking classes once we got settled in. She never got a chance.”

  There were a million thing
s AJ wanted to say: I feel your pain—or at least a version or your pain. The part that knows how loss bores a hole in your soul; I’m Italian. Or at least the part of me that my grandmother hates is. More important than talking about herself, though, she wanted to hear about him.

  “Why did you stay in Italy when your family flew back to the States?” She hadn’t meant to say that out loud and held her breath after the words slipped out.

  “There was a girl...a young woman, I guess I should say. We were young. I was stupid. Thought I was in love. I didn’t want to leave her. That’s pretty much all there is to say.”

  The look on his face made a lump form in her throat. She’d asked for it—she’d sensed that this was what he would say. Or some version of that same story. She’d felt it in her bones.

  “And you’re going back to Italy? You’d mentioned it would be your last assignment.”

  He nodded.

  There was one more thing she needed to know...a last piece of the puzzle that she had to fill in and if she didn’t ask now, she might not get the chance...more likely she might chicken out.

  “Have you been in touch with the woman?”

  She felt her walls go up, preparing for an answer she didn’t want to hear.

  Shane shook his head.

  AJ exhaled, giving voice to the most critical part of the question.

  “Are you going back to find her?”

  Before he could answer, the wail of emergency sirens burst the silence. Then AJ’s cell phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID. The pit of her stomach dropped to her toes.

  “I’m sorry, I’d better take this call. It’s the fire department!”

  Chapter Ten

  “It’s definitely arson,” said the fire chief. “We found traces of gasoline around back at the hotspot where the fire started.”

  Shane put a firm arm around AJ as she stood stoic and numb staring at the ruin that used to be Celebrations, Inc.

  Her shop was gone. And with it, her whole life—everything she’d worked so hard for—had vanished with the flames. Everything inside was burned beyond recognition—all her equipment, her files, the gossamer and silk that had brought the storefront to life was now reduced to soot and ash along with her hopes and dreams.