ONCE UPON A WEDDING

by Paula Detmer Riggs

  Downing his coffee in two quick gulps, he stood up and gave his brother an impatient look.

  "Finish that later, okay? I promised the lady ribs, and I'd like her to taste them before she's too damned starved to appreciate Marvella's sauce."

  Garrett drew the thong taut, then looped a knot close to the stirrup before slicing it cleanly with his knife. "How about it, Hazel?" he asked, putting down his tools before standing and reaching for his hat. "Ready for a once in a lifetime treat?"

  "Lead the way," she said, setting aside her cup and getting to her feet in one graceful movement.

  As they walked back through the cavernous barn, Jess had to stifle a strong urge to loop his arm around her shoulder and stake the kind of claim even his thickheaded flirt of a brother would understand. Instead, he settled for putting himself between them all the way to the car.

  The shadows had grown longer while they'd been inside and the air slightly cooler. Hazel inhaled deeply, then wrinkled her nose at the faint odor of skunk.

  "Country perfume," Jess said with a wry look that made her warm all over.

  "Where's your cowboy hat?" she teased in return.

  "Must've lost it somewhere."

  "Truth is, he can't find one to fit that swelled head he got when he won the Grand Prix," Garrett tossed over his shoulder.

  When they reached the Mercedes, Hazel took one look at Garrett's long legs and volunteered to sit in the back.

  "No need," Garrett said, crooking his elbow and jerking his chin toward a row of vehicles lined up in a low shed to the right. "You're gonna ride with me."

  "I am?"

  "Sure. We always take two cars when we go to Marvella's. That way J.D. doesn't have to double back here to bring me home before he heads back to Sacramento."

  Hazel glanced at Jess, who simply shrugged. "The man drives like a half-soused trail cook, but go ahead and humor him if you'd like. Just don't say I didn't warn you."

  "Don't listen to him, sugar," Garrett said, taking her arm, since she hadn't taken his. "These days he drives like a little old lady out for a Sunday ramble."

  Hazel let Jess's brother lead her to a white pickup parked in a sturdy shed to the right, along with a dark blue minivan and a wicked-looking black Jaguar convertible.

  Behind her, she heard a car door slam, more violently than seemed necessary. Garrett slanted her a look, then winked.

  "Do him good not to call the shots all the time," he said as he helped her into the passenger side of the pickup. Hazel didn't question why they were taking that instead of one of the other vehicles. Like Jess, Garrett had his own way of doing things and didn't seem all that amenable to questions or second-guessing.

  The inside of the pickup was almost as comfortable as her car, with just about the same luxuries. Before shifting into first, Garrett shoved a tape into the cassette player, and the sounds of Beethoven filled the spacious cab.

  Hazel smiled to herself. In his own way, Garrett was as much of an enigma as Jess.

  "I can taste those ribs now," he drawled, backing quickly and skillfully in a tight circle before leading the way down the lane. Jess followed.

  "You must be very important to my brother," he said, glancing in the rearview mirror.

  "Why do you say that?" Hazel asked, as dubious as she was puzzled.

  "For one thing, he hasn't brought a woman out to the ranch since he came back to the area to stay." Garrett shot her a quick grin. "For another, he's behind us."

  Hazel glanced in the side mirror. The old sportscar looked low and wide from the front. And, she admitted, very sexy.

  "I guess I'm not getting your point," she told Garrett.

  "Usually he leads the way when we go to Marvella's 'cause he claims it slows me down. Tonight he seems in a big hurry for some reason."

  "Maybe he's hungry."

  "Or maybe he doesn't want to give me much time to warn you off." His voice was suddenly dead serious, and Hazel realized that Garrett was like his brother in another way as well. He never did anything without a good reason.

  "I'm … very fond of Jess," she said softly, but with a seriousness to match his. "I'd never deliberately hurt him, if that's what you're worried about."

  She sensed a shift in the atmosphere and realized she'd guessed right. "Not worried, but wondering."

  "I can understand that. After all, Jess is your brother."

  "Yeah, which is why I'm more worried about you and wondering if you know what you're doing when you take on an hombre like him."

  He moved so that his broad back crowded the door, making it easier for him to study her. "I don't know if you know it or not, but Gayla, his ex, really did a job on him. Butchered him worse than the surgeons, in fact."

  Hazel waited, knowing now that Garrett had a purpose in shanghaiing her. "I'm not saying he hates women, you understand, but…" He paused.

  "But he doesn't trust us all that much, either."

  Hazel took his grunt for an affirmative. "It's a funny thing," he went on after a moment's thoughtful silence. "But in her own way, Gayla truly loved Jess. I think she wanted to stay with him, but he made it impossible."

  Hazel picked at the stitching on the strap of her purse. "She was pregnant with another man's child when she left."

  "I'm not saying she was perfect, but neither is my brother."

  "Are you saying he cheated on her first?"

  Garrett shook his head. "Jess takes promises very seriously which is why he rarely makes them. No, with Gayla, after the accident, he just shut her out like she was a part of his life that no longer existed. Maybe that made it easier for him to handle not being able to race again, but it still hurt her badly."

  Hazel heard censure shading his voice and frowned. "He was going through a stressful time. Losing a limb is like suffering a death in a way."

  "I'm not saying he wasn't hurting. He was. And I'm not saying Gayla didn't make things worse by some of the things she did and said. But a man who truly loves a woman…"

  His eyebrows bunched. "He'll forgive her for being human. Jess didn't."

  "Maybe he tried."

  "You're right. Maybe he did. There's a lot about my brother he keeps strictly private." Garrett shot her a quick glance. "Like the fact that he's thinking about getting married again."

  "How do you know he is?"

  "He dropped a few hints when he called to let me know he was coming over for ribs tonight. I figured he was angling for his big brother's words of wisdom."

  He grinned at her, as though the idea of Jess asking him for anything was blatantly outrageous.

  Grinning back, Hazel managed to hide her surprise. She'd give a lot to know exactly what Jess had told his brother about her.

  "How do you know I'm the bride-to-be?"

  "Have to be. J.D. is not what you call a jealous man, but he was sure showing signs of it tonight."

  Jealous? Jess? Hazel considered Garrett's words carefully. Was it possible?

  Rounding a curve, they met another pickup approaching, driven by a man in a Stetson about as broken-in as Garrett's. Both men tooted.

  "You know what I think?" Garrett said when the pickup had passed. "If anyone is strong enough to take on my brother without getting too bruised in the process, it's you."

  Hazel laughed. "Lucky me, huh?"

  It was Garrett's turn to laugh. "Ask me on your first anniversary."

  Hazel hesitated, trying to decide how much she could tell Jess's brother without violating Jess's privacy. "I haven't said yes yet."

  "You will. J.D. has a way of getting what he wants. Sometimes it just takes him a little longer." Garrett slanted her a measuring look. "'Course he doesn't always want what he thinks he does."

  Remembering the heated look in Jess's eyes had her frowning in the dimly lit interior. "You'd know that better than I would."

  "He thought he wanted Gayla. Swore he was in love with her. Maybe he was, although she was never the most important part of his life, even in the good times. That was re
served for racing. Winning, that's what got him high. I'm not sure that's changed – even if he has."

  "You sound skeptical."

  "It's hard to know what to think about him sometimes." Garrett shrugged. "Jess was wild when he was younger. More full of himself. Insensitive, my wife called him. Me, I just figured he was long on what the papers called animal magnetism and short on character."

  Hazel studied his face and saw blunt honesty. "Why do I think you didn't like him very much then?"

  "Because I didn't." His tone was a whisper shy of anger. "Not many folks around here did, except Ty McClane, that is. Those two were more like brothers than Jess and me."

  "And now?" she asked softly.

  He chuckled, but there was little humor in the throaty sound. "He's learned a few things – or maybe we both have. Anyway, we're both older."

  Hazel stared at the lighted instrument panel until the colors blurred. "He's different out here," she mused. "Tougher, but in an odd sort of way, gentler, too." Garrett glanced at her, disbelief clearly etched on his shadowed face. "Hazel, take my word for it. There's nothing gentle about my brother. If he hadn't had such a need to be the best at everything he tried, if he hadn't been born with this obsession to win, he might have been a nicer person. More tolerant, maybe. But gentle?" He shook his head, sorrowfully, it seemed to her. "Not in this lifetime. Not unless he's changed more than I know."

  "You're wrong, Garrett," she said fervently. "I saw that side of him in the hospital, when he was with Francey's mother. He cared deeply about that woman. So deeply it shook me."

  They were passing through a sad-looking hamlet whose boarded-up gas stations and abandoned diners had served countless customers before Highway 50 had become a limited access freeway between the coast and the mountains. The town still boasted a stop sign, however. Garrett paused, then turned right. The road was rougher, and the truck bounced hard on the shocks, jarring Hazel's spine and rattling her teeth.

  "Maybe he's changed more than I know. But when a man…" He grinned ruefully. "…or a woman, makes winning into some kind of god to worship, everything else gets shoved aside. That's part of the process. In Jess's case, he took chances that no one else would take, drove cars that weren't safe, even lied a time or two to get the ride he wanted. All because he couldn't stand coming in second."

  Hazel frowned. "But he almost died because he was thinking of the other drivers."

  "Who told you that?"

  "I … a friend."

  "Your friend was wrong. He smashed up his car and himself because he was trying to pass when it wasn't safe, on tires that were too worn to hold the track. Maybe he had a chance to choose between hitting the wall or the car next to him, but I doubt it."

  His mouth tightened. "Jess is crippled today because he made a mistake. He made that mistake because he was willing to risk everything to take that checkered flag. Don't quote me, but I have a hunch that's the real reason he's so bitter about Gayla's problem accepting his handicap. It's easier to blame her for the pain he's carrying with him than to blame himself."

  He braked for a dark-colored cat streaking across the road ahead, his gaze darting to the mirror. "There's a lot of anger left in Jess, Hazel, and even more resentment. He's been down a rough road, rougher than most of us ever have to travel, and it's left him with some deep scars. I don't mean just physical ones, either."

  "Yes, I know."

  This time the look he gave her was almost tentative. "Then you've seen him without his shirt?"

  Hazel wasn't a prude, but Garrett's question gave her an odd jolt. "No, and if you're asking if we've been to bed together—"

  "I'm not," he hastened to reassure her. "That's your business."

  Hazel smiled. "Yes, it is. But I don't mind telling you that we haven't been intimate. In fact, this is our first real date."

  Garrett looked disquieted, but determined. "I was afraid of that."

  It was Hazel's turn to feel disquieted. Her session with Neil was still fresh in her mind, including his words about his sexual dysfunction. "Is there something I should know?" she asked softly.

  Garrett was silent for an uncomfortably long time before he sighed and said, "It's been fourteen years since I saw my brother without his shirt. He's worked horses for me, shoveled manure, helped mend fences on days when the temperature hit one-seventeen in the shade, and never once shucked his shirt."

  Hazel remained silent, sensing that Garrett was taking his time to make his point for a reason. "I might be all wrong, Hazel. Lord knows it's happened a time or two." He grinned. Sensing his need to ease the strain he had to be feeling, she did, too.

  "Big of you to admit that," she murmured.

  As he took his eyes from the road to study her, his grin slowly faded until his face was grim again. "He's embarrassed by his body, Hazel. Maybe even ashamed of it." He frowned, as though suddenly in pain. "I guess what I'm fumblin' around, trying to say is just this. If you do take him on, be patient with him. Don't expect too much right away. He might not be as confident in the sack as he once was."

  Hazel expelled a shaky breath. Sensing that herself was one thing; but having Jess's closest relative confirm it gave her mixed feelings.

  "Thank you for telling me that," she said, touching his arm. "I know it wasn't easy for you."

  His expression told her that she'd guessed right. "I'm not much for giving unsolicited advice, I want you to know that."

  She smiled. "Consider it solicited, then."

  He slowed, then turned left again. The neighborhood was seedy, mostly boarded-up businesses that had gone belly-up long ago.

  The blinker clicked loudly as Garrett steered the truck into the crowded parking lot surrounding a ramshackle stucco hacienda.

  Finding a spot between a pickup and a battered sedan, he pulled in and shut off the engine. Jess had to circle to find a place for the Mercedes.

  While they waited, delicious smells wafted through the partially opened window, and the sound of western music throbbed into the growing dusk.

  "Are you saying I shouldn't marry him?" she said when Garrett would have opened his door and gotten out.

  He took a moment to reflect, then shook his head. "Marry the man if that's what you want, be the mother of his children and appreciate him for the good qualities he has. Just don't fall in love with him the way Gayla did."

  Hazel drew a long, unsteady breath. "It's too late, Garrett. I already have."

  * * *

  Chapter 11

  «^»

  Hazel poured hot water into the teapot and replaced the lid. Jess was in the den, phoning Cait to check on Francey.

  She'd had a good time at Marvella's. As promised, the ribs had been the best she'd ever had. Garrett had kept her laughing throughout the meal, regaling her with stories of the three demon Dante brothers in their prime.

  On the way home she and Jess hadn't talked much. He'd seemed preoccupied, and she'd been thinking of the things Garrett had revealed about Jess's past.

  At her insistence he'd dropped her at the office so she could pick up her car. At his insistence he'd followed her home. Suggesting that he come in for a drink had been a natural result. Now she was having second thoughts.

  If he pressed for an answer to his proposal, she wasn't sure she could bring herself to accept. She was equally uncertain whether or not she had the will to decline.

  Outside the open window, the air was beginning to cool and the tree-lined street was settling for the night. Most of the old houses had been bought and reclaimed by young professionals who went to bed right after sunset and got up before dawn.

  It was a great neighborhood in which to raise children. Safe, friendly, with good schools within walking distance. Ideal, in fact. She was one of the few single residents in the entire area.

  She heard Jess coming a second before she sensed his presence. "How's the baby?" she asked, turning toward him.

  "She's finally asleep. That's a direct quote from Kels."

  "Ha
s she been fussy?"

  He rubbed the back of his neck, as though it pained him. His hair was mussed and his jaw shadowed and tense.

  "I'm not sure. According to Kels, Cait was in bed and Ty was at a meeting, so I couldn't get corroborating testimony."

  Hazel frowned. "Francey seemed fine yesterday, although Cait did seem a bit frazzled, now that I think about it."

  "Yesterday?"

  "I had some errands to run on my lunch hour and stopped by for a quick cup of coffee with Cait."

  "Do that often, do you?"

  He was watching her with a trial lawyer's shrewd gaze, but the lines around his mouth hinted at a far more human side that seemed to show up only when he was tired.

  "On occasion, yes."

  She carried the pot to the table and indicated that he should sit. "I hope you don't mind hanging out in my kitchen. Actually, it's my favorite place."

  His gaze made a slow, thorough circuit of the room. "Nice and homey. The fish tank is an especially nice touch."

  Hazel glanced fondly at her flea market find. "Isn't it! I love to watch them, especially the catfish. They're so ugly they're cute."

  "Cute, huh?"

  Jess reached for his coffee and discovered that it was some kind of weak-looking tea instead.

  "Chamomile," she said when his gaze found hers. "It helps relieve tension."

  Jess took a sip and decided that he would rather have had a drink. Scotch, bourbon, even some of that insipid white wine she liked so much.

  At home, alone, he welcomed the easing of thought the booze gave him, even courted the illusion of relaxing. In Hazel's home, however, illusions were a danger he intended to avoid.

  Even the few times when he'd had his arm around her and his mouth on hers, he hadn't let himself think past the physical needs they could satisfy for each other.

  Jess leaned back and ordered his tight muscles to relax. Having to use one hand for everything put as much strain on his back as it did his arm. If he'd been alone, he would have allowed himself the luxury of massaging away some of the ache.

  "Tell me about this Mrs. Weller," he prompted, stretching out his legs to ease the tautness in his lower back.