by Lexi Blake
“I’m sure she’s an excellent candidate, but I have to think about it. I can get back to you in a few weeks.”
He flushed again, a sure sign that wasn’t the answer he wanted.
“Of course I might move faster if I wasn’t so worried about all those tickets I seem to have.” She dangled the lure.
Dillon chuckled. “All right, Mrs. Rush. Consider them taken care of, but you have to come to a full stop when you reach a stop sign.”
She smiled. A true lady found a way to solve all her problems. One simply had to be patient. “Of course. Now why don’t you go and invite her to join us? If she wants the job, she can start now.”
He rushed off and she knew she had a new bargaining chip.
Yes, it was good to get to work.
* * * *
Payton took a look around and wondered how the world kept spinning. It seemed like it should stop sometimes. The funeral for her nephew had only been last week and here she was talking about and planning some future event while her sister was still in mourning. All around her the people laughed and talked like it hadn’t happened. Like Jacob hadn’t mattered. Like she wasn’t going to lose her mind.
Sebastian was going through his days as though he didn’t even think about him. He’d even told Jeffry that the best way to get over something like this was to go out and party. She’d overheard them talking when Jeffry had come in late the night before. Sebastian had chided him for being so morose.
This morning her mother-in-law had been up and ready to plan this party like it was the only thing that mattered. Payton wasn’t a fool. She knew this Founders’ Day celebration wasn’t about honoring Jacob. It was about Sebastian’s campaign.
She’d been a good wife, a stalwart soldier in political wars, a true daughter-in-law. What did a lifetime of service really mean if the people she served didn’t care about her when she needed it the most?
“Having a theme is so important, don’t you think?” Alice Johnson, the mayor’s wife, was saying.
“Oh, I agree,” said her daughter, Tara Douglas. “What are you thinking? I like the idea of Beach Blanket Bingo. Wouldn’t that be fun? We could make all the games beach themed.”
Payton didn’t care about themes. She didn’t give a damn about beaches or bingo or shallow women and their shallow lives.
Her life.
Then two sets of eyes were on her. She went on autopilot. Gracious smile. Soft words that offered encouragement but absolutely no commitment.
“Ladies, can I steal Payton for a moment? I have something I need to talk to her about,” a familiar voice said.
She glanced to her right and there was Francine. She usually dressed in scrubs. She’d confided once that while it looked like she was the consummate professional, always ready to go to work, she really just liked how comfortable they were. She claimed they were her version of yoga pants. Payton had always wanted to try yoga pants, but ladies in her family neither did yoga as an activity or a fashion statement. Today, Francine was wearing a yellow sundress and a perfect white cardigan, her feet encased in pretty sandals with butterflies on them. They were lovely and whimsical, and Payton was struck by the fact that Francine had sky-blue toenails.
She always used the same sedate polish on her own pedicure. Not too red, but not maroon either. She wouldn’t want to offend a Longhorn fan by wearing Aggie colors on her toes.
The other women wandered off, chattering about other themes they could use.
“What did you need to talk with me about?” Payton asked politely.
Francine threaded her arm through Payton’s and started to lead her toward the big window. “That was a little lie. I was trying to save you.”
“Save me? From what?”
“From all the people talking about stupid things when your heart is aching so badly.”
Tears immediately sprang to her eyes. “Where did you get that idea?”
“Because you, Payton Rush, have a good heart and you lost someone you loved and another person you love is still hurting. You ache with it, but you won’t let anyone else see. Here you go.” She handed Payton a tissue.
They faced away from the committee behind them, looking out over Pecan Street and the Lutheran church where they’d held Jacob’s funeral.
“Why are you here, hon? You should be at home with your kids and Celeste.”
Payton delicately dried her tears. “I can’t. I have to help with the festival. The world moves on, as my mother-in-law would say.”
“But you shouldn’t have to. You should be able to close off the world and grieve properly.”
“I don’t know why. No one else is.”
“Oh, sweetie, no one else loved him the way your family did. I watch it all the time. It’s human nature to shove a tragedy aside at the first available moment. Dwelling on Jacob’s death will do nothing but cause these people to have to face their own mortality and honestly, that’s not good for anyone. The world does have to move on. You just don’t have to join in until you’re ready for it. You should be sitting in a room watching old movies and crying your eyes out while your husband brings you gallon after gallon of ice cream. At least that’s what I’d do if I were in your position. Except I don’t have a husband and I doubt my neighbor’s cat is going to supply me with Chunky Monkey.”
Sebastian wasn’t the indulgent type. He’d never gone to get her a treat because she was down or rushed into the night because she had pregnancy cravings. He’d barely slowed down after Jacob’s death. Would he care if it had been Brittany or Jeffry? Or would he have just used it as a campaign platform? She’d heard him talking this morning about some new bill he was planning on cosponsoring to make Texas roads safer.
She knew she was being unkind. Sebastian had an important job, but she wanted to do what Francine had suggested. She wanted to shut the world out just for a little while, to give Jacob’s death the honor it should have.
“They’re not going to let you slow down, are they?” Francine whispered the question.
If there had been a hint of judgment in the question, she would have been able to walk away with her head held high. But there wasn’t. There was kindness in Francine’s voice and the slightest hint of conspiracy. As though her friend was already trying to think of ways around the problem. Francine was thinking of her.
“I’m afraid my mother-in-law isn’t the ‘sit and cry and eat ice cream’ kind. I don’t think she’s had sugar in decades, much less sat down long enough to process an actual emotion.” She put a hand over her mouth. Had she just said that out loud? What was wrong with her?
Francine grinned. “There’s the spark I always knew you had. There’s a firecracker under all that polish.”
She wasn’t sure about a firecracker. “That was unkind of me to say.”
“No, that was truth and you have a place where you can say the truth. We’re friends, right?”
Francine was more than a friend, but she couldn’t even allow the thought to process. She buried it deep. “Oh, yes. Sometimes I think you’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”
Vulnerable. She’d just made herself wickedly vulnerable and she didn’t like the feeling. What if Francine didn’t feel the same way? That particular question might have been a casual one and Payton had just made a fool of herself. Or she’d made Francine uncomfortable. She would hate that.
Francine gave her one of those sunshine smiles that seemed to bring out the good in Payton. “I’m glad you feel the same. We connect, you and I. And that means that you can say anything to me. I’m a safe place. It’s not good for you to bury all the bad stuff. It needs to come out. I know you’re a lady, but you’re a woman, too. So when you want to say something slightly mean about Saint Marylee, you can say it to me and we’ll laugh and then you won’t feel so bad about it. Everyone has a secret life, Payton. It’s only bad if you don’t share it.”
The very idea of sharing her inner feelings was foreign to her. She was sure her mother-in-law would tell her n
ot to have any. Marylee would also tell her that having friends outside of the family whom one told one’s secrets to was a risk she shouldn’t be willing to take.
“Would you mind taking Celeste’s place on the committee this year?” The question came out abruptly, and she hurried to explain herself. “Celeste is my partner, but obviously she needs to concentrate on her family this year. You would have to work closely with me. Oh, what am I thinking? You couldn’t possibly have time for that. You have the hospital and…”
Francine cut her off by taking her hand. Once more Payton was surprised by the warmth the other woman had. It was like when Francine touched her she imparted some of that lovely heat and for a moment, Payton’s skin felt alive.
“I can make the time for you. Of course, I’ll take Celeste’s place. I would love to.”
For the first time in a long time Payton felt a kernel of happiness nestle inside her. “I’m so glad. And maybe you can take me to whoever does your mani pedis. I think I need a change of color.”
She was thinking about purple. It would make a nice change.
Chapter Six
Dillon approached Joanne’s table with the caution of a man who knew he’d done wrong. He’d handled the situation a few days ago with all the grace of a ham-handed idiot. He’d backed her into a corner and she’d pushed him back like a wounded animal.
That was what he had to remember. She was hurt and aching. He often thought of her as a lovely doe, graceful and fragile, but even a soft animal fought for its life. Joanne was fighting for hers. He just had to find a way to let her know she didn’t need to fight alone.
“Good morning, Joanne.” He looked down at her sad little breakfast. Oatmeal and water. The cheapest thing on the menu.
She looked up and he could see the fine lines around her eyes that told him she hadn’t slept in days. A wary smile crossed her face. “Morning, Sheriff. How are you today?”
“I’m all right.”
“Any news?” She gestured to the seat across from her.
At least she wasn’t kicking him out again. He sank into the seat and wanted so badly to reach out and grab her hand. “No, I’m sorry. I haven’t heard anything new.”
Her lips formed a grim line, as though she’d already begun to accept the inevitable. “All right. Well, I’ve thought about what you said to me the other day.”
He shook his head. “I was too harsh with you.”
She waved that away. “No, you were being realistic. From everything I can tell, he’s walked away on his own. He meant to walk away. I don’t know if he’s been planning it for a while or if this is some sort of spontaneous moment of insanity, but I have to come to terms with the fact that Hector left me.”
Not of his own free will, baby. If he had his way, he’d be right here still slapping you and beating you down. He couldn’t tell her that. She wasn’t ready to hear anything like that. Yet. One day she would be. One day she would heal enough to see the truth. He intended to be standing beside her when she did. “So you don’t want me to file a missing persons report? I’ll do whatever you want me to.”
She shook her head and he breathed a sigh of relief. “No. He left of his own volition. I even talked to a friend of his. He called him yesterday and asked for his last paycheck to be sent to a new address. I won’t even get that. He also cleared out our bank account, according to my daughter.”
Dakota worked at the savings and loan. She could likely see that her father had been a selfish son of a bitch. It shouldn’t surprise him at all.
“You need to open a new account.”
“Yes, Dakota set that up, though she did laugh when I gave her a hundred dollars to put in. One hundred two dollars and fifty-nine cents.” She stared down at her hands for a moment. “There’s so much debt right now,” she said glumly. “I can’t think he’s going to be making payments on the electricity bill. I assume they’ll come after me for his credit card debt as well. I need to find a way to sell the house. I suppose I would need his signature. I can’t afford it on my own. I would rather get something out of it than let it go into foreclosure. Mallory and I will move into an apartment. With Marcus and Dakota out of the house, it’s just the two of us. We can rent something small. I’m going to think about perhaps cleaning houses in my spare time. I can make money that way.”
By being some rich woman’s maid? Not if he had anything to say about it. He would make her mortgage payments himself if he had to. He would let her think the money came from Hector. Anything but let her lose her home and be forced to work like a dog. It was his fault she was in the economic situation she was in. He had to be the one to help her out of it. He couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t.
“I found a job for you.”
Her eyes widened. “Really? Why?”
He had to play this subtly. If she thought for a second it was a handout, her pride would take over. For some reason she had an excessive amount of it when it came to him. Luckily, he could tell her the truth this time. Mostly. He didn’t need to mention that he’d heard Marylee was looking for someone and he’d managed to write her three tickets in the past two days so he would have leverage to move Joanne into the spot. Marylee hated tickets. He suspected they made her feel like she wasn’t the queen of the town. She’d gone for it just like he’d known she would. “I was just talking to Marylee. The Founders’ Day celebration committee is meeting in the back.”
Skeptical eyes peered at him. “You’re on the committee? Are you the resident expert on picnic blankets?”
Oh, he wouldn’t have heard that saucy mouth a week ago. He loved it. “No. I’m filling in for my parents, but I do know a surprising amount about picnic blankets.”
He knew he’d love to get her on one. He’d love to lay her out and make love to her under a brilliant blue sky.
“All right, I fully believe that your parents have something to do with the celebration.”
It was good she believed something about him. “She mentioned that her assistant coordinator quit. She needs someone who can help her organize the businesses and I thought of you.”
She flushed, her skin turning the sweetest pink. “I don’t know. I’ve never done anything like it before.”
“Sure you have. You’ve run a family for twenty years. You’ve managed to handle work and housekeeping and getting the kids where they needed to go, and now you’re handling it on your own.”
“I suppose I do know how to manage a schedule,” she allowed.
“And you know many of the business owners.” He knew she coordinated with other businesses for weddings and funerals and parties. She might not realize it, but she was very competent.
She nodded. “But Dillon, I’ve never spent much time with anyone outside of work.”
He knew why. She’d had every second of her time sucked away by Hector. He’d guarded her jealously because he’d likely known if she had friends, she would have people she could turn to instead of him. One of his tactics for keeping her had been isolating her from the town and her friends. “Maybe it’s time you did. This is a job you can do when you’re not at the florist shop. You don’t have to quit. The hours are flexible and more importantly, if Marylee likes you she’ll introduce you to everyone. She’ll take you under her wing, and it’s a formidable wing.”
“What if she doesn’t like me?”
“There isn’t a chance of that happening. You’re the most likable person I know. Come on. She invited you to come back. She’s eager to put you to work.” He held his hand out.
She accepted. “There are a lot of people back there. You really think I’ll fit in?”
At least he could give her this. He’d taken a lot from her in the last few days, but he could give her back something Hector had stolen from her. He could give her back a community to depend on. “I think you’ll fit in just fine. It’s time for you to realize how much people love you, Joanne. And you can get a proper breakfast. Marylee’s paying.”
She grinned, looking you
nger than he’d seen her in years. There was the hint of the high school girl in that impish smile. “Thank God. I hate oatmeal. I’m ordering a double waffle.”
He walked to the back with her, feeling better than he had in days.
* * * *
Dakota stepped into the Bluebonnet Cafe with her head held high. She wasn’t hiding anymore. The last few days had been an exercise in making herself as small as possible so no one would look at her. After she’d heard Mallory and her friends talking about her, she’d realized that maybe she didn’t have such a great reputation. It made her do something she didn’t like. Think.
She hadn’t texted the senator back even though she’d wanted to. She was trying to be a good girl.
She’d only snickered a few times when she’d set up her mother’s checking account with a whole hundred bucks. Whoopee. Her mom was a high roller.
And her dad had drained his account. It was sitting at a big, fat zero.
“Hey, Dakota. What are you doing here?” Mary Louise Prager was standing at the hostess station. She was a relatively attractive woman with red hair that could really use a flat iron. She was the niece of the owner of the cafe.
Dakota stared at her like she’d lost her damn mind. What was she doing here? Uhm, that should be obvious. “I was hoping to get some breakfast.”
And to show the town that she wasn’t the same girl they thought they knew. She was starting something new. She was revamping her image.
Mary Louise frowned. “Oh, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in here for breakfast.”
She smiled. “Yes, I try to stay skinny. So I won’t have any of your fatty stuff.” That probably came off wrong. She had to watch that. “What I meant was I would love to have a very nutritious meal at your fine establishment.”
“Okay.” Mary Louise looked down at her seating chart. “We’re full right now. Sorry. The committee for the Founders’ Day celebration is meeting in the back. They’re taking up a good portion of the tables, but I should be able to find you something in ten minutes or so.”
