The Heart Will Lead You Home

by Kristin Leedy

  “Seems that way, Moe. Seems that way.”

  “You gonna go see her get married off?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I hear some of the other schools are practicing that day- I think I’ll be out scouting their plays.” That at least switched Moe off of painful subjects and on to more level playing ground for a while. Besides, just thinking about her man made him want to vomit. He hadn’t met the guy yet, but the image of a greasy, slick haired version of a used car salesman with big buck teeth always seemed to spring into his mind.

  He’d downed about three beers and watched the small crowd that had gathered since he’d arrived as they milled about the bar. He felt a strong hand clasp his shoulder. A sandy haired guy in his early thirties shot him a friendly grin.

  “Mind if I sit down next to you?” The guy asked as he straddled a bar stool.

  “Sure thing. Make yourself at home.” Payton turned back to his beer and the TV set above the bar.

  “What’re ya having?” His brown eyes were direct but kind as he watched Payton. Obviously the guy had never been to Moe’s before.

  “Guinness. It’s the only beer Moe keeps on tap.”

  “I’ll have what he’s having, and get him another as well,” he said to Moe, and smiled at Payton again. Payton had to wonder for a moment if the guy was hitting on him. If he wasn’t gay, the guy sure was friendly. A little too friendly, Payton thought, and tried his best to focus back in on the baseball game on TV.

  “I’m Josh.” He stuck his hand out. Payton hesitated for a second, trying to remember where he’d heard that name before. He seemed familiar somehow, but he couldn’t figure it out. He shrugged.

  “Payton.” He turned back to his beer and the game.

  “This Moe, he a friend of yours?” Payton sighed. Obviously he wasn’t going to get to watch the game in peace. He sipped his beer.

  “More of a beer buddy. He runs the bar and I like to come here to watch the games on TV.”

  Josh noticed the TV for the first time, it seemed, and he quieted down as he watched the pitcher strike out two batters. “What d’ya think the odds are for the Braves to make it to the playoffs this year?”

  Payton, never one to shy away from a subject he liked, warmed to the conversation. “Anything’s possible I guess, but I wouldn’t bet the ranch on ‘em.”

  “Yeah, but I think they’ve got some quality new players they’ve traded for. I think they could get there.”

  Payton frowned. “Maybe, but I think the Red Sox are a better bet.”

  Moe, who didn’t have much else to do at the moment, and always one to discuss sports, sidled over to chat. “The Cardinals. Now that’s one helluva team to watch, boys.”

  Payton shook his head firmly and grinned. “You don’t ever give up, d’ya old timer? Those boys are so far out of World Series range it’s pathetic.”

  Josh laughed. “Seriously. Talk about a long shot. That’s like trying to get a hole in one on a par 5. There’s no way.”

  Payton laughed and elbowed Josh in agreement. Moe shook his head and grumbled. The other two ribbed him some more until he moved on to other, safer, topics.

  “So, Coach, how’s the season ahead looking?” He dried a few glasses as they talked.

  “Oh yeah, you’re a coach? What for?” Josh watched him curiously, a friendly smile on his face.

  “Football. I’m the head coach over at Dixie.” He turned to answer Moe. “Well, we’re 1 and 1 right now, and there’s a lot of younger guys on the team so I think the boys’ll have a hard time against the better ranked teams, but they should fair pretty well over all.”

  “Coach Cartwright. Payton Cartwright,” Josh said with recognition in his voice, and Payton automatically smiled. Must be one of the boy’s relatives, or a fan. He had a few of those. Maybe that’s why he seemed to know him.

  “That’s me.” He stuck out his hand.

  “Well, I thought I’d be meeting you, just not here. I’m Josh Turner, Lizzie Benford’s fiancé.” He smiled and grabbed Payton’s hand, pumping it up and down vigorously. Payton could feel his blood pounding through him and he forced himself to keep his grip loose so he wouldn’t crush the guy’s hand.

  Josh seemed oblivious to the sudden chance in Payton’s demeanor and kept right on chatting. Moe smirked at Payton and he felt like reaching over the bar and punching him.

  “Well I hear you have quite a reputation around these parts as the football legend,” he heard Josh saying as he tuned back in. “Can’t go anywhere in this town and not hear your name being buzzed around.” Payton managed a smile.

  “I grew up here. Was the starting quarterback. Football’s a big deal around here.”

  Josh chuckled. “So I understand. Lizzie keeps me informed.”

  Payton winced. What was this, a friendly chat between Lizzie’s fiancé and her ex? He felt like he’d just been broadsided by a transfer truck. He thought he’d been having a decent sports conversation with a fellow sports junkie, but really he’d been getting all buddy-buddy with Josh Turner.

  “So you think the team has a shot at the playoffs this year?”

  Payton ground his jaw and forced a sip of beer. Oh, this was going to be good. Even Moe thought so. Payton could tell by the way he settled back on a lone bar stool behind the counter that he was obviously set to eavesdrop while he nonchalantly dried glass beer mugs.

  Fine. If Mr. Slick wanted a little chat, he’d give him one, Payton thought as he tightened his grip around the cool glass of the bottle before taking a swig.

  “The playoffs?” Payton took another long swig, taking his time, enjoying the fact that even seated on a bar stool he still stood a good two inches over Lizzie’s fiancé, and he could, without a doubt, outmuscle the guy any day of the week. “Oh, I feel pretty confident they’ll make it there just fine. Then it’ll turn out like always. Long and brutal, but my boys’ll win it in the end.”

  “Pretty confident about that, are you?” Pretty boy Josh held his long neck bottle up for a quick drink. Payton didn’t like the way he smirked. Not one bit. But he did enjoy the nerves he obviously touched off in Josh when he thunked his bottle on top of the bar and gave him a long, steady, measuring look.

  “Yeah, I’m pretty confident. Now, don’t go mistaking that for cockiness- I find that sort of thing just down right stupid. But confidence, now that’s smart.” He grabbed his truck keys off the bar and headed for the door. He wanted to punch something and he had to get outside quick before that something turned into Josh’s face.

  “Night Moe,” he called from the door before heading out into the night.

  “Night Coach, see you soon.”

  “Jeez, what got into him?” Josh asked, oblivious. He finished off his first drink of the night. Moe took his time moving his old body off the bar stool and hobbled over to drop another bottle in front of the out-of-towner. Moe gave Josh a leveling look before he leaned against the counter top, wincing ever so slightly in the process.

  “The thing about that man is… he don’t like losing, ‘specially when it comes to somethin’ he’s passionate about.” He caught Josh’s eye and held it before pushing off and bumbling back into the kitchen. Josh didn’t quite understand what he had hit on that Payton was so passionate about- other than football that is- but he was beginning to get the feeling that Edenville’s head football coach wasn’t particularly excited that he was in town.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  “Let’s go, pokey.” Mary Catherine leaned against the door and studied her sister with a smile. “I’m dieing to see how beautiful I’m gonna look in my bridesmaid dress.”

  “I’m comin’.” Lizzie stuck out her tongue in friendly camaraderie. “Keep your shirt on.” She blew on her nails as she twisted the top back on a bottle of nail polish and shuffled her feet into a pair of sandals.

  For once she agreed to drive to town instead of walking, and she let MC drive since her nails were still wet. Lizzie rolled down her window and propped her feet up on the d
ashboard.

  “Okay, so what’re everybody’s bets on the color of the dress this time?”

  MC laughed. The first shipment of dresses, including the wedding gown, had arrived a month ago with them all being a vibrant fire engine red- not at all close to the color she had ordered. “Well, mine’s for green, Grace’s is for red again, and Granny’s bridge club has a fifty cent bet on black.”

  “Fifty cents? Wow, that’s gettin’ on up there for them.”

  “I told her to throw another fifteen in there for me, but she said it was against their religion to take outsider bet money.”

  Lizzie laughed and let the wind blow her hair. The air was certainly cooler than it had been, but it was still determinedly hot for September.

  “So, are you ready for the big day,” Mary Catherine asked Lizzie with a playful nudge of her elbow.

  At the thought Lizzie’s heart thundered in her chest and she felt the familiar shortness of breath. She smiled, though, and tilted her sunglasses down a fraction so her sister could see the mischief in her eyes. “Are you kidding?” Lizzie fidgeted with her glasses, pushing them up through her hair and back down on her nose again. “I’ve been waiting for this day for as long as I can remember.”

  One of MC’s eyebrows rose. “The day, yes. But, the man?”

  A scowl broke out on Lizzie’s delicate features. “Of course.”

  “If you’re having second thoughts, Liz, you really should put it off a few months.” Mary Catherine glanced over at her with a worried expression. “You know, Daddy would rather you be happy and sure, than make you go through with it just because everything is already arranged.”

  Lizzie frowned in concentration and thought about where her life was headed. Today was Thursday, which meant that in little more than a week she would be getting married. What should have been the happiest moment in her life was turning into a major three ring circus. It wasn’t that she didn’t like weddings. She loved them. A Wedding Story was her favorite TV show ever. But her dreams of how all the planning and all the details leading up to the big day would proceed just weren’t turning out like she had envisioned.

  Lizzie shot her sister a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about me, MC, I’m just a little stressed. It’s only the wedding jitters. You’ll have it someday, too.” Mary Catherine looked skeptical but she shrugged and kept on driving.

  A bright flash of flame red bobbed in the distance, and Lizzie smiled, thankful for a change of topic. How like her best friend to be waiting, hip poking out in impatience in front of Mrs. McIntire’s store a full five minutes early. Whereas Grace had been early everywhere she went since the first day of her life, Lizzie couldn’t be on time to save her life. Perhaps that was one of the reasons that the two had been inseparable since the first day they met.

  Well, that and the fact that they’d had only each other to survive in the earlier days of their friendship.

  “Well, if it isn’t Grace Jacobs! Fancy meeting you here on this fine morning,” called Lizzie as she hung her head out the window as they pulled to a stop in front of Mrs. McIntire’s shop.

  “Yeah, yeah. You know, Lizzie Benford, if it wouldn’t kill me to see you strung up by your toenails, I might just have to end your life for being so dang late all the time.”

  “It’s one of the perks of being a doctor. We have special classes on how to hold everyone up at least five extra minutes.”

  “Funny. Ha ha. I’ve got a mind to believe that, you know.”

  Grace linked arms with MC and smiled. “Now, let’s go see what god awful color your sister has chosen for us to wear in this wedding. I swear, though, if it’s pink, you’ll see me hanging from my daddy’s pecan tree at sundown.”

  Lizzie rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up, Grace. It’s not pink. Would I really do that to you? You know I hate pink.” Lizzie rolled her eyes. “What, do you think we’re in Steel Magnolias or something? Pepto Bismol pink is certainly not my idea of a good time.” She opened the door to the shop and walked inside. “Besides, I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised at what I’ve picked for you.”

  “Well, I’m not believing it ‘till I see it,” Grace mumbled as she followed her friend in to the shop.

  “Mrs. McIntire,” Lizzie called toward the back of the store. “Yoo-hoo! It’s me, Lizzie.” They heard a mumble from the back then rolls of fabric hitting the floor before they finally saw Mrs. McIntire stumble from the back, adjusting her skirt, blouse and hair.

  “Ah, Mr. McIntire was visiting wasn’t he?” The girls giggled when the middle-aged woman blushed a deep crimson and smiled.

  “Well, Lizzie Benford. You come right in here and let’s try this wedding gown on. And this time, I swear its Ivory white, just like you’ve been dreaming about.”

  “Actually, the red one’s kind of growing on me. Maybe I should wear that one instead.”

  Mrs. McIntire looked a little upset. “Well, dear… I suppose you could but, well…”

  MC, Grace, and Lizzie laughed. “I’m just messing with you, Mrs. McIntire. But your face was priceless.”

  Mrs. McIntire looked relieved, but recovered nicely with a twinkle in her eye. “Oh, okay, if you’re sure. Now, come on and let’s get you all fixed up.” She guided Lizzie by the shoulders to the back of the shop. “I swear you and your bridesmaids are going to be the talk of the town for years after this wedding.” Lizzie had the distinct feeling she was right, and wasn’t quite sure if that was a good thing or a bad.

  “Now, what do you think?” Her dress hung on a manikin in the center of the panel of mirrors, and Lizzie felt little pricks of excitement tingle up her arms. This was the dress she’d always imagined wearing on her wedding day.

  “Oh, my. It’s gorgeous,” said Grace.

  “Can I wear it when it’s my turn,” asked MC.

  Lizzie laughed. “Let’s just get through my turn and then we’ll worry about yours.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Lizzie stood in the center of a massive dressing room staring at her reflection that bounced back from at least five different angles. Her sister and best friend stood beside her, wearing mint green sleeveless dresses.

  “Well, it’s better than pink,” Grace remarked as she smoothed the silky material and admired the way it flattered her figure.

  “And it makes both of us look like goddesses, don’t you think, Lizzie?”

  “And you wonder why I picked them. Honestly, girls, from the look on your faces you’d think I didn’t have a lick of fashion sense in my head.” Lizzie watched her friends from the mirror as she pulled her hair into a bun while Mrs. McIntire put the veil on top. “I may be a doctor, but I do know a little bit beyond the best color scrubs to wear to make you’re butt look the slimmest.”

  “Amen,” Mrs. McIntire added through her teeth, which were clamped around alterations pins. The other girls giggled.

  “Okay, so now will the two of you stop harassing me about the dresses? I swear weddings can be such a big production.” Mrs. McIntire removed the veil and Lizzie let her hair drop back down around her shoulders. “If you want my advice- elope. Just elope and then tell everyone. It saves about five million headaches, and a few years off your life.”

  “That’s easy for you to say, Lizzie.” Grace gave her arms a dramatic flare. “You’re getting your fairy tale. A wedding in the front yard of your house, honeymoon in the Southern Caribbean for two weeks, and then off to the big time with your hubby in tow.”

  Lizzie rolled her eyes, and stepped off the box where she’d been standing while Mrs. McIntire pinned the dress for the fitting. “If you like it so much, why don’t you do it?”

  “Gladly. Just find me my famous rock star and I’m there.”

  Lizzie pulled the gown over her head and handed it over the dressing room door. “You’re still stuck on that rock star kick? I thought you gave that up in tenth grade.”

  “Not on your life.”

  “I think its sweet, Liz,” Mary Catherine added as she took one last measur
ing glance in the mirror and turned away to get dressed. “A girl has to have her dreams.”

  “I’m not dreaming, MC. I’m serious. There’s some amazingly gorgeous man out there who just happens to have the most heart melting voice on record and who’s waiting for me.”

  “Uh-huh. Well, as long as you promise to let me visit you in your mansion, I’ll let you marry your rock star.” Lizzie slung her purse over her shoulder and winked at her friend. “Now come on, we’ve got to get home. The caterer’s coming this afternoon and I’ve got things to get done before he does. But we’re meeting up at Moe’s for girl’s night aren’t we?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Bean.”

  “Good, see ya there.” Lizzie smiled back at Mrs. McIntire. “See you at church this Sunday, Mrs. M.”

  “Okay, sweetie. Tell your parents hello.” She said it as if she didn’t bump in to them in the grocery store aisles every other day.

  “Alright. Tell Mr. McIntire hello, too.” She didn’t miss the slight blush that bloomed on the other woman’s cheeks, or the giggle that Grace and MC stifled as they walked out the door.

  On Friday night, almost a week before Lizzie’s wedding, the old high school gang gathered at Moe’s Pub. They’d come to an uneasy agreement that although Josh was Payton’s competition for Lizzie’s affection he was after all her fiancé and therefore they should treat him like part of the group. The guys invited him along when they’d decided on having a pool tournament after the football game while Lizzie and the other ladies were off having a girl’s night of their own.

  Payton sat in one of the booths at the back of the bar and was just working his way through the frothy foam of his Guinness when Grace, Lizzie, and the rest of the girls came through the door. Apparently they’d decided to start their evening off at Moe’s, and one look at Lizzie’s choice of clothes had him choking on his beer as Bud smacked him hard on the back.

  He wouldn’t have made such a scene but Lizzie’s outfit was something he’d never seen her wear and it was driving him crazy. He noticed with grim dissatisfaction that he wasn’t the only one in the bar that was howling at the sight of her.