The Best Bride

by Susan Mallery

  Al removed his Dodgers’ baseball cap and grinned. “Well, I’ll be.”

  “There’s more,” Nichole said. She pointed. “Look there.”

  Everyone looked up. A colored balloon floated from the doorway of each of the rooms. The color matched the dots on the chart.

  “We should be able to unload your furniture in less than two hours,” Al said.

  “Great.” Sandy was pleased. It had taken all day to load it. “Kids, you stay out of the men’s way. I don’t want you getting hurt. As soon as there are some boxes in your room, you can start unpacking.”

  “Swell,” Lindsay grumbled.

  “I’m here to help,” Kyle said, falling into step with Al as the older man returned to the van. He paused by the door and turned back toward her. “I like the dots. I always said, given the chance, you could organize the world.”

  Sandy grinned. “I know I could!”

  * * *

  Two hours later, the van was gone, the furniture was in place and there were three hundred boxes to be unpacked. Sandy stood in the center of the foyer and wondered where on earth she was going to begin. She could hear the children in their rooms. Lindsay would get her things unpacked just fine, but Nichole and Blake would probably create bigger messes than they would fix. At least they were busy and not underfoot.

  Her personal stuff could wait. She’d marked a couple of boxes with linens for the family, so those could be opened immediately. Next, she would start on the kitchen things.

  Kyle came in the front door and walked over to stand in front of her. He had a couple of screwdrivers and a pair of pliers in his left hand. His white T-shirt advertised a local ice-cream store, his black shorts left far too much of his tanned legs bare to view. Telling herself he wasn’t really that good-looking did nothing to calm her nerves. Usually, she could talk herself out of or into just about anything. It was how she’d stayed sane while Thomas was alive and acting like a child. She’d convinced herself that one day he would grow up. With the perfect vision of hindsight, she knew now that probably wouldn’t have happened. But no matter how she tried, she couldn’t seem to convince her hormones that Kyle wasn’t worth getting excited about.

  “I thought I’d hook up the cable,” he said, pointing toward the family room.

  “I appreciate the help, but I don’t want you to think you have to be here. If it’s your day off, you should be doing something you want to do.”

  He held her gaze for a long time. Part of the reason she wanted him gone was that she felt a little guilty for throwing him out the last time he’d been here. She could have been a little nicer about the whole thing. He’d been wonderful to her and her kids. But she couldn’t risk getting involved. Even a one-sided crush, much like Lindsay’s, would upset things too much.

  He smiled slowly, exposing white teeth and making the skin by the outside corners of his eyes crinkle. Her heart fluttered foolishly. “I’m here because I want to be,” he said. “Haven’t you figured that out yet?”

  “Oh.”

  Oh? Was that the best she could come up with? she asked herself. Why did he want to be here? Was he toying with her, lulling her into thinking he might, well, sort of find her slightly attractive, only to dump her at the first opportunity?

  She almost asked the question, then realized that perhaps she needed to work on her self-esteem first. Kyle had been nothing but sweet and friendly since they’d arrived. She was the one acting skittish. But why wouldn’t she? She was a single mom with three kids. She had a tendency to be bossy and mouthy. She was working on her flaws but she was still far from being perfect. Or glamorous. So why was he being so nice to her?

  “Thanks,” she said at last, then brushed her suddenly damp palms against her shorts. “The TV goes in the entertainment center. The VCR sits on the shelf above that.”

  His smile widened to a grin. “I think I can figure it out.”

  “Great.”

  But he didn’t move. Instead, he stood there, looking sinfully handsome, staring at her. Self-consciously, she reached up and fingered her hair. It was loose this morning, held off her face by a headband. She wasn’t wearing any makeup. She probably looked old and messy. Nothing that a man like him would—

  A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. She frowned. “I’m not expecting anyone,” she said as she crossed the floor to the front door.

  A pretty, dark-haired woman holding a sleeping toddler in one arm and a diaper bag in the other smiled. “Hi, I’m Elizabeth. This is my daughter Jessica, and Mandy is around here, somewhere. Honey, where are you?”

  “We’re coming, Mommy.”

  Sandy stared past the woman and saw a young girl racing up the porch stairs. She was holding a casserole dish in her hands. “We brung food,” she said, then stopped slightly behind her mother, as if suddenly shy.

  “Brought,” Elizabeth said. “I swear, hanging out with your father’s relatives is doing nothing for your education.” She smiled fondly at her daughter, then glanced back at Sandy. “She knows more about the Forty-niners’ starting lineup than she does about any of her subjects at school. Oh, you still look confused. I’m sorry. I’m Travis’s wife. We’ve come to help you unpack.”

  “Elizabeth, come on in,” Kyle said, coming to the door. “Mandy, how’s my favorite munchkin?”

  The little blond girl giggled. “I’m not a munchkin, Uncle Kyle.”

  “I keep forgetting. Maybe it’s because all munchkins have blond hair just like you.” He bent down and touched the two braids brushing against her shoulders.

  “Do they?” she asked, her blue eyes wide and questioning.

  “Kyle,” Elizabeth said, the tone in her voice warning him to tread carefully. “Stop torturing my daughter.”

  Kyle chuckled, then took the casserole dish from Mandy. “No, honey, they don’t.”

  Travis strolled up the stairs. He placed his hand on his wife’s waist and guided her into the house. “Sandy, this is my wife, Elizabeth, and my daughters Mandy and little Jessica.” He glanced fondly at the sleeping toddler. “We’re here to help you unpack. Where would you like us to start?”

  Sandy was speechless. She didn’t know whether to be pleased or insulted. Kyle had arranged for people to help her without asking her first. She should hate that. Yet the gesture was so thoughtful. She liked Travis; there was every reason to believe she would like his wife, and she didn’t have any friends in Glenwood yet.

  Before she could think of what to say, Kyle took charge. He sent Mandy upstairs with instructions on how to find Nichole’s room, thrust the casserole dish into Sandy’s hands, then ushered Travis into the family room, where he promised they would take care of the “man” work.

  Elizabeth stared after them, then laughed. “I guess that leaves all the women’s work for us.” She shifted the toddler in her arms. “It’s Jessica’s nap time,” she explained. “She had a busy morning playing in the backyard. And driving in the car always puts her to sleep.”

  “You can put her on my bed,” she said. “It would only take a minute to get the sheets unpacked.”

  “No, that’s too much like work and we’re going to have enough of that already.” Elizabeth glanced into the living room. The floral-print sofa facing the wide windows had fluffy pillows. “Would you mind if she slept there?” she asked, nodding in the direction of the sofa.

  “Of course not.”

  In a couple of minutes, Jessica was curled on the couch with her favorite stuffed toy, a lion missing an ear and the end of its tail. Elizabeth pulled a light blanket over the sleeping child. “She’s our miracle baby,” she said, straightening and following Sandy into the kitchen.

  “Did you have trouble getting pregnant?”

  Elizabeth laughed. “Not at all. But until Jessica, there hadn’t been a girl born into the Haynes family in four generations.”

  Sandy set the casserole on the counter. “I didn’t know that.”

  “That’s a chicken-broccoli thing,” Elizabeth sa
id, motioning to the covered dish. “Just heat it in the oven at 350° for about a half hour and it will be fine.”

  “Thanks for bringing the food. I really appreciate your thoughtfulness. So will my kids when I’m too tired to cook. After a week of living in a motel, even they’re getting tired of take-out for dinner every night.”

  Elizabeth stared at the piles of boxes. They filled the large space, with several pushed up against the wall and a few on the kitchen table. “Where should I start?”

  “You don’t have to help.”

  “That’s why we’re here, Sandy. Kyle put the word out. He’s been there for us, so we’re happy to help one of his friends.”

  Elizabeth didn’t hesitate before saying the word friend but even so, Sandy wondered what Kyle had said about her. Or what he hadn’t.

  She looked at the boxes, then at the empty cupboards. How on earth was she going to get this house in some kind of order? “Feel free to open whatever box strikes your fancy,” she said. “I’ve pretty much decided where everything should go.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Elizabeth reached for the one closest to her and drew open the flaps. “Canned goods,” she said, peering inside.

  “The pantry cupboard is right there.” Sandy pointed to the closed door on the other side of the double oven.

  Elizabeth carried the box over to the counter closest to the pantry and started unpacking. “Kyle said you just moved to town. What made you decide on Glenwood, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “My husband died a couple of years ago. After everything settled down, I decided I didn’t want to raise my kids in Los Angeles. I’d lived in Glenwood for a few years when I was a teenager, so when a job teaching at the junior college opened up, I moved us here.” She wrinkled her nose. “So far, it’s not a popular decision with the family.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “It will get better. I moved here from L.A., too, although I wasn’t a widow. So your husband passed away two years ago?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’ve recovered?”

  Sandy paused. Recovered wasn’t the word she would have chosen. That implied an emotional bereavement. She missed Thomas, but she hadn’t mourned him as the lost love of her life. “I’m making a fresh start, if that’s what you mean.”

  “It’s good enough.”

  “How long have you lived here?” Sandy asked.

  “Three years.” Elizabeth placed the last can in the pantry and turned the empty box over. While she worked the bottom free so the box could lay flat, she stared off into the distance. Her brown eyes took on a dreamy expression. “I met Travis the second day I was here. He pulled me over for speeding.”

  Sandy stared at her. “That sounds really romantic.”

  “Oh, it was.” She laughed. “I know it doesn’t sound like much, but I had appendicitis, and he rushed me to the hospital. While I was there, he took care of Mandy, and when I was released, he insisted I stay with him while I recuperated. I didn’t know a soul in town, I had a new job I wasn’t going to be able to start and he was just there. My own personal knight in shining armor.” She picked up another box and looked inside. “Glasses,” she said, rustling the tissue they’d been wrapped in.

  “Cupboard next to the sink,” Sandy said, pointing.

  Elizabeth carried the box around the piles in the center of the floor and set it down. “Jordan says the reason Jessica is the first girl born to the Haynes family in four generations is that we’re the first couple to be in love and faithful to each other.” She pulled out the first glass and set it on the shelf. “I think it’s because my mother is one of four girls and her mother is one of six girls. All the relatives on her side of the family only ever have girls. Maybe our body chemistry only likes girl sperm. Of course, I would never tell Jordan that and ruin his theory.”

  Sandy cleared her throat. She emptied the box of plates and bowls and moved on to one filled with plastic food-storage containers. “How is Jordan? I mean, I knew him in high school. I’m curious as to how he—”

  “Turned out?” Elizabeth grinned. She had a pretty, heart-shaped face with big eyes and a ready smile. “He’s the quiet one of the bunch. He still keeps to himself. Travis calls him the black sheep because he became a fire fighter instead of a sheriff. He’s still single,” she added hopefully.

  “No, thanks. Jordan and I were destined to be friends. We tried dating for a while, but it never worked out.”

  Elizabeth crossed the room. When she was standing next to Sandy, she spoke in a quiet voice. “What were they really like in high school? Were they as wild as everyone says?”

  Sandy remembered her few dates with Jordan. He never tried to kiss her, so she couldn’t speak to that reputation. She thought about the afternoons she’d spent in the Haynes family’s kitchen, helping Kyle with his homework, listening to Craig, the oldest, brag about his exploits with the college girls or just talking with Jordan. “I think they were lonely. Their father was never here, their mother was angry all the time. I don’t want to blame her, she lived in a difficult situation, but I think she could have done better for the boys. She should have taken them away, or not left so abruptly.” She shook her head. “I shouldn’t be second-guessing the poor woman. I can’t imagine what it must have been like living with their father.”

  “Have they changed?” Elizabeth asked.

  “No. They’re still good-looking charmers with the ability to make a woman weak in the knees.”

  “Oh?” Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. “Is it all the Haynes men who make you react like that or is it just Kyle?”

  “Just—” Sandy clamped her mouth shut. “I see Travis has been teaching you how to grill prisoners.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “Your secret is safe with me.” She leaned closer. “Travis has this trick he does with his cowboy hat. It’s silly, really. He takes it off and tosses it across the room. It always lands exactly where he wants it to.” She rolled her eyes. “Drives me crazy. All he has to do is toss that damn hat and I’m putty in his hands. The worst part is he knows it and uses it against me. I can’t stay mad at the man for more than two minutes at a time.”

  Elizabeth walked back over to the box on the counter and continued putting away glasses. Sandy bent over and thrust a handful of plastic covers onto a bottom shelf. She would organize them later. But instead of thinking about tidy stacks of food containers, she remembered how Travis had placed his hand on the small of Elizabeth’s back as he’d escorted her into the house. She could see the look on his face as he’d stared down at his sleeping daughter. Thomas had never been one to bother with polite gestures and he’d never sat still long enough to watch the children sleep. If he wanted to play with them and they were napping, he just woke them up.

  “Travis says Kyle was hurt the worst by his mother leaving,” Elizabeth said.

  Sandy flattened the empty box and reached for another. “He was. I’d forgotten about that, but I do remember when it happened. It was summer, right after Kyle turned fifteen. Jordan called and asked me to come over. All four boys were sitting there, around the kitchen table.” She frowned at the memory. “They looked lost. Even Craig who was already on his own. I cooked dinner, I don’t remember what, then sat up with Jordan and Kyle. Travis left to do something.” Sandy remembered a pretty redhead who’d come by to offer comfort, but she didn’t think Elizabeth would want to hear about that.

  “I’m sure he was with a woman,” Elizabeth said evenly. “Don’t look so surprised that I guessed. Travis has been very honest with me about his past. I know why his first marriage failed, and the names of all the girlfriends he can remember. He spent a lot of time believing he didn’t have what it takes to be a decent husband or father. I don’t mind about what happened before he met me. As long as he doesn’t try what his father did.”

  “Yeah, that was pretty awful.” At least Thomas had been faithful to her. It hadn’t been enough, but she consoled herself that things between them could have been worse. She fingered her
ring.

  “Kyle believes—” Elizabeth stopped and stared at her. Her brown eyes widened. “Oh, no. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize. When Kyle asked me over to help you and wanted us to meet, I sort of assumed… I’m sorry.”

  “What?” Sandy asked, baffled.

  Elizabeth pointed to the ring Sandy still wore. “You must have loved your husband very much. I shouldn’t be going on about Kyle when you’re still in mourning. I’m sorry.”

  “Please don’t apologize. I’m not still in mourning. I do wear the ring to remind me of Thomas, but not for the reasons you might think.” She used this symbol of their marriage as a talisman against making the same mistake twice. She didn’t want to get involved with someone who refused to grow up. Someone who wouldn’t take his responsibilities seriously, and who would rather have a good time than do what was right.

  “He must have been a special man,” Elizabeth said.

  Sandy was saved from answering when Kyle came in the room. He was carrying another casserole dish. He set it on the counter. “Nichole and Mandy have become fast friends,” he said. “The TV and VCR are working great. Travis is assembling Blake’s bunk beds and Lindsay is unpacking her clothes. The kid has a lot of them, huh?”

  Sandy blinked. She didn’t know which question to address first. “What’s that?” she asked instead, pointing to the foil-covered dish.

  Elizabeth started to chuckle. She put her hand over her mouth to muffle the sound, but even so, Kyle glared at her. “It’s a casserole,” he said, then turned to Elizabeth. “What’s so funny? I’m just being neighborly.”

  Sandy wondered how long those words would come back to haunt her. “It’s very nice, Kyle,” she said.

  “It’s a yam casserole,” he told her.

  “Yams?”

  “Don’t you like them?”

  “Sure, it’s just… Thanks, really.”

  Elizabeth burst out laughing. “I knew it. Oh, Kyle, come over one afternoon and I’ll teach you to make something else.”