Dixie Virgin Chronicles: Joanna (Book 6)

by Webb, Peggy

  Gable was not amused. “Desperate, did you say?”

  “Yes.” Joanna looked demurely at her plate. “In the family way.”

  Kirk actually felt sorry for the man as he struggled to keep from bolting to the door. He guessed he was getting soft with old age. He didn’t know he could want to kill a man and feel sorry for him at the same time.

  “Behave yourself, Joanna,” he whispered. Turning to Gable, he said, “She’s just teasing. She’s in perfect condition. Not a thing wrong with her.”

  He figured he’d made her sound like a good used car. Served her right for being so all-fired stubborn. Glancing her way, he saw her struggling to keep from laughing.

  “Have all my teeth and everything,” she added.

  “Well, now...” Gable fiddled with his fork and his collar and his dinner napkin. Finally he stood up. “It’s been a lovely evening, and I hate to eat and run, but I do have pressing business. It simply can’t wait. Lovely seeing you again, Joanna, and I wish you all the luck with your, er, quest for matrimony.”

  Joanna stood up. “Let me see you to the door.”

  As she patted Gable’s arm and led him out of the room, Kirk saw the magic she worked on him. She went from addle- brained tease to charming, gracious hostess. He’d be willing to bet that by the time they got to the front door, Gable would be wondering why he’d thrown away his golden opportunity to marry her.

  Scooting his chair back from the table, Kirk made his way to the kitchen. By the time Joanna joined him, he had a pan of chicken soup heating on the stove. It had been Grandfather Deerfield’s remedy for everything from headache to heartache.

  She walked over and peered into the pan. “Chicken soup?”

  “Ulcers. You’re giving me ulcers.”

  “Nonsense. It’s all that sexual repression.”

  He wondered if she read minds.

  “No. It’s all the Wexfords and Goobers you keep dragging home. If you’re so determined to get married, at least choose somebody with some class.”

  “Hah!”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means, look who’s talking. Here you are, thirty-five years old and heating soup for ulcers instead of romping in bed with some warm and willing sex partner.”

  “Romping around in bed? Is that what you did on the Costa Brava?”

  “Well, there was that time at...”

  “I don’t want to hear about it,” he shouted.

  “All that sexual repression has made you crabby.”

  “I am not crabby!”

  “Then why are you shouting?”

  Kirk threw his hands into the air as his soup boiled over. “I swear, Joanna, you’re going to drive me to drink.”

  “I think a shot of Jack Daniels would do you more good right now than warm soup.” She began to rummage in the cabinets. “Do you still keep some? I could use a good healthy swig myself. Did you notice Goober’s feet?”

  “What about his feet?”

  “They were too skinny. I can’t abide a man with skinny feet.”

  Kirk threw back his head and roared. “God, Joanna. I don’t know whether to murder you or to kiss you.”

  In one of her quicksilver changes, she turned serious. “Neither. Help me find a husband.”

  He bought time by pulling a dishcloth from a drawer and swabbing up the mess he’d made of the soup. And as he did so, he thought of all the friendly discussions he and Joanna had had in the kitchen at Meadow Lane. They’d always been able to tell each other their most private thoughts. He was suddenly filled with nostalgia and a need to recapture that wonderful camaraderie of their youth. Her friendship was too precious ever to lose.

  Putting down the cloth, he took her gently by the shoulders. “Joanna, when are you going to give up this ridiculous idea? You were mad at me when you said you were going to find a husband. You don’t have to go through with it.”

  “I want to,” she said softly.

  He knew Joanna too well not to recognize the sincerity in her tone. He’d hoped she would eventually give up the ridiculous marriage scheme she’d hatched half in rebellion and half in teasing playfulness. Those hopes came crashing down.

  “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?” He hoped she would say no, but he knew that hope, too, was futile. Once Joanna set her mind on something, she was as unchangeable as the land.

  “Yes.” Her dark eyes were wide with appeal as she looked at him. “It’s the best way I know to get out of your hair and carry on with a life style of my own choosing.”

  “You don’t have to get married in order to have money. I’ll send you to Siberia and Marbella and any place else you want to go. I’ll even hire somebody to go with you to look after you. I’d go myself if I could leave Deerfield Manufacturing.”

  “No,” she said softly.

  “No?”

  “I’ve given this matter some serious thought, Kirk. I know this whole thing was born out of impulse, but I’ve decided I like the idea of getting married.” Her eyes began to sparkle. “Love is nice, don’t you think? Look at Uncle Kenneth and Aunt Sophie. They’re happy as two larks. Mom and Dad had a good marriage, and five of my Dixie Virgin friends are deliriously happy with their new husbands! Just think about the children! Think what fun it would be to show them the Alps and Pikes Peak and the Grand Canyon.” She smiled at him. “If I wait till I’m thirty-five, I might be too old.”

  She’d always had the knack for making the ordinary seem special.

  “Joanna, marriage isn’t that simple. It’s not something you just decide to do.”

  “I just didn’t decide. I told you, I’ve given it some thought.”

  He saw that stubborn chin come up. “Don’t get balky with me. This is too important. Please just listen to what I have to say.”

  “I’m listening.”

  He smiled. “Then please listen with a less ferocious look on your face. It scares the pants off me.”

  She bared her teeth in the caricature of a smile. “There. Is that better?”

  “It’ll do.” He reached out and took her hand. “You’re young and inexperienced, Joanna.”

  “And you’re some big expert? Kirk, using my age against me is not fair. You made your mistake. Give me a chance to make mine.”

  He tightened his hold. “Don’t pull away. I admit my failure. But whether you like it or not, I am older and more experienced than you. You’re viewing love and marriage through rose-colored glasses. And while it can be wonderful, it doesn’t always work out that way. A good marriage takes commitment and compromise and sometimes hard work.”

  “Good grief. You make it sound as dull as a balance sheet at Deerfield Manufacturing. No wonder Trixie—” She stopped, horrified at what she’d been about to say. The raw pain was there on Kirk’s face.

  “Oh, God, I’m sorry, Kirk.” She put her free hand on his face and tried to gently rub away the tension. “I’m so sorry. Please, please, forgive me. I didn’t mean what I was going to say. You’re wonderful, and Trixie must have been crazy to leave you.” Her hand patted and caressed and soothed as she talked.

  Kirk pulled her into his arms and pressed her face against his shoulder. “It’s all right, baby. None of it was your fault. None of it.”

  She rested her head on his chest for a long time, enjoying the familiar feeling of security. How easy it would be just to stay there and let Kirk make all the decisions. Too easy, she decided. And too safe.

  She lifted her head and looked up at him. “I heard everything you said. It was all wise and sensible and smart. But it’s your way, Kirk, not mine. I’ve made my decision. I am going to get married. And nothing you can do will stop me.”

  He held her at arm’s length. “If you’re that determined to go through with it then let me help you find someone suitable.”

  “Someone suitable?” She rolled her eyes heavenward. “I see I came to the wrong person for help. No, thank you, Kirk. I’ll find my own husband.”

  “Plea
se, Joanna. You’ve been gone a long time. I know the young men of the city better than you do. No strings attached. Just one friend helping another.”

  Suddenly Joanna smiled. She could never deny a gesture made out of friendship. “Yes. I’ll let you help. But promise me one thing.”

  “What?”

  “Find somebody wonderful. I want my husband to be the most wonderful man in the whole world.”

  She’d been practicing that charm on him since she was a child. And he was bewitched. As always. From the habit of many years, he led Joanna to a chair and lifted her onto his lap.

  Instantly he realized his mistake. This was no child he was holding; Joanna was a woman, an alluring woman with soft hair, scented skin and sensuous curves. Fighting his normal male reaction, forcing himself to remember his responsibility to take care of her, he tucked her into the curve of his arm and smoothed back her curls.

  “If that’s what you want, I’ll try to get it for you.” He knew he was being foolish and softhearted, but he had never been able to deny Joanna anything, especially when she smiled. “I’ll try to find somebody suitable for you.”

  “Not suitable. Wonderful,” she reminded him. “And without big ears and skinny feet.”

  He chuckled. “And don’t forget the pistachio nuts.” He wound a hand in her soft curls and hugged her tighter. “I’ll do my part, but you’ll have to do yours, too. Falling in love takes time.”

  “I don’t have much time. Just think of all the remarkable things that are happening all over the world right now that I’m missing. I thought I might just get married first and fall in love later.”

  “You can’t catch a husband the way you do a calf. You can’t rope him and drag him to the altar.”

  She twisted to look up at him. “I have a confession to make, Kirk.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Promise you won’t laugh.”

  “Have I ever laughed at you when you’ve confided in me?”

  “No.”

  He touched her hair once more. It curled intimately around his fingers, as soft and silky as a kiss. He spoke around a big frog in his throat. “I promise you, baby, I won’t laugh this time.”

  “Well, I haven’t...” She paused, her cheeks turning pink as she struggled with her admission. Taking a deep breath, she plunged ahead, talking quickly to get it over with. “I haven’t had much experience dating. When I was in high school, most of the boys were scared off by my money. And in Spain, young ladies of breeding are put on pedestals. There’s not much to learn about men up there. All the bull fighters and…” She bit back Fernando’s name. She wasn’t about to resurrect that fiasco. “…the others were just for fun.”

  “What others?”

  “Oh, just boys who didn’t mean a thing.” She cuddled closer to Kirk. “I’ve never even been close the altar. I guess I don’t know how to get there.”

  “With finesse.” He pressed his lips to her hair.

  They were still for a long time, enjoying the closeness of two people who were cousins by fate and best friends by design. The hall clock that Grandfather Deerfield had brought over from England chimed the hour, and Rags passed through the kitchen on his way to the doggie door. He paused beside them to see if he could rouse any interest in his evening stroll, but after two minutes of being totally ignored, he wagged his tail and continued his ramble alone.

  Finally Joanna stirred. She twisted around and cupped Kirk’s face. “Since you’re going to find me a husband, I might as well give you my specifications.”

  He chuckled. “Another list of don’ts?”

  “No. A list of dos. I want a man who is tall, about like you. And gray eyes would be nice, too, if you can find them. I’ve always been partial to your gray eyes. Now, dark hair isn’t an absolute necessity. I like blond men, especially in the summer when their hair bleaches out, but I wouldn’t mind a man with hair that dips over his forehead.” She paused to smooth back his dark hair. “Kind of like yours,” she added.

  Kirk cleared the lump out of his throat. “That’s a tall order, Joanna.”

  “I’m not finished yet. I want somebody who is smart. They might not be as brilliant as you, but they have to at least know the difference between microfiche and rainbow trout.”

  They laughed together.

  “Oh, and don’t forget about basketball. If he can’t play PIG, I don’t want him.” She smiled up at him as a new idea took hold. “He has to be a good sailor, too. Remember all those good times we had when Grandfather Deerfield took us sailing?”

  Kirk looked off into space, remembering Joanna with the wind in her hair, suntanned legs planted apart to accommodate the roll of the sailboat, laughing. She’d always been laughing when they sailed. He had, too. Those had been wonderful, carefree days. He wondered how he’d gotten so far from those days, why he’d given up sailing altogether.

  “I remember, Joanna. It seems so long ago.”

  “It seems like only yesterday to me, and I want to do it again. I’m going to do it again.” Kirk smiled as she set her jaw at an unconsciously stubborn angle. “I’m going to marry a man who will sail with me.” Her eyes sparkled as she smiled up at him. “Just think of all the grand places we can discover together on a sailboat.”

  Kirk envied the man who would discover those places with her. Selfishly he begrudged another man the joy of sailing with Joanna. With her lively imagination and her spontaneous sense of fun she used to make each jaunt on their boat a high adventure. What would it be like to sail with her now that she was a woman? His mind boggled at the possibilities. One of those grand places they’d discover together would surely be heaven.

  He fought to tame his imagination, to put everything back into perspective. “Anything else?”

  “One more thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “He has to be a good hugger and a good laugher. Men who can laugh and hug are usually generous and kind-hearted and compassionate and loving. Do you think you can find a man like that for me?” She stood up and smiled at him.

  Kirk was lost and he knew it. Joanna had been twisting him around her little finger since she was three years old, and she’d done it again. He figured if he ever lived through her quest for matrimony, he’d be ready for a retirement home.

  “I’ll find the right man for you even if I have to bribe and browbeat him all the way to the altar.” He reached out and took her hand. “You have to promise me one thing.”

  “Anything except to become a lady.”

  He chuckled at the mischievous look she gave him. Sometimes Joanna was pure imp. “Don’t marry any man unless you love him—no matter how anxious you are and how much he fits your specifications.” He squeezed her hands. “Give yourself time to find love. Promise me, Joanna.”

  “I will if you will.”

  “Will what?”

  “Find love.”

  “But I’m not looking for love, Joanna.”

  “Maybe you don’t have to look; maybe love will find you.” She leaned over and tenderly kissed his jaw. “Good night, Kirk.”

  He was thoughtful as he watched her leave. Switching off the kitchen light, he stood in the darkness for a while, trying to sort everything out. He’d never seen a problem that couldn’t be worked out with careful analysis and decisive action. But this business with Joanna defied analysis. He was working with so many unknowns he felt like a blind man.

  “Make that a blind fool,” he amended, “an old blind fool.” He left the kitchen and went into his study to work. He always turned to work when he was disturbed. And there was no doubt about it, the prospect of finding Joanna a husband disturbed him. “Besides that, she has me talking to myself.”

  He shut himself up in his study, pulled out his file on the proposed acquisition of Granlan Company and set to work.

  o0o

  Belinda finally got home from the Peabody and threw a Dixie Virgin reunion party just in time to save Joanna’s sanity. Bea flew in from Florida and Ca
t drove up from New Orleans, and for the first time in years, all the Dixie Virgins were together.

  Joanna, who was right in the middle of the group hug, couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this happy. In her opinion, the seven of them were the most wonderful, the smartest, the most interesting women in the South, and if anybody disagreed with that, she’d just slap them silly. Five of them were married now, and seeing how Belinda and Clemmie glowed, and Molly, Bea and Janet looked as if they owned the world, Joanna felt a sense of relief. Maybe her impulsive declaration to Kirk that she was going to get married wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

  “You’ve cut your hair!” Bea told her. “It suits you. Sassy and sexy at the same time.” She turned to Cat. “And danged, Cat, if you get any more gorgeous, they’re going to declare you a lethal weapon. No wonder that Wainwright goober won’t let you alone.”

  Cat made a face. “If he shows his smirking self around me, I’ll shoot him with a tiger tranquilizer.”

  “Way to go, Cat!” Molly plopped into the middle of the floor around a low coffee table that held every goodie the Dixie Virgins thrived on: buttered popcorn, Hershey’s with almonds, Clemmie’s brownies, Almond Joys and cheese straws.

  Belinda had also included carrot sticks with plenty of roasted pine nut hummus.

  “What’s this?” Bea said. “We’ve never pigged out on carrots.”

  “The best way to get pregnant is to stay healthy,” Belinda said. “I read that somewhere.”

  “The best way to live is to stay healthy,” Janet said, then winked as she went straight for the Hershey bars.

  “How’s that pregnancy project coming along, Belinda?” Molly said.

  “I’ll know something in the next two weeks. That’s when my period is due. We timed our honeymoon in the Peabody so it would be in the middle of my cycle.”

  “Dang, girlfriend,” Bea said. “How many honeymoon trips are you going to take?”

  “Oh, Reeve said we’d never get off our honeymoon.” The way Belinda glowed when she talked, Joanna believed her. “But enough about me. This is Joanna’s party!”

  “How’d it work out with Wexford?” This from Molly, who was reaching for a handful of cheese straws.