Karin shook her head. “You must be feverish,” she said. They started walking toward the exit.
“It’s not that easy to settle in a new place,” Dorothy said. “You probably found that out when you moved to Chicago.”
Karin gave her a look that seemed to go right through her. “You’re not happy there.”
“Of course I am,” Dorothy protested and pushed open the outside door.
The parking lot was practically deserted. There was no one around to overhear them talking so this would be the time to confess all to Karin—if there was something to confess, of course.
“Paris is great,” Dorothy went on. “It’s exciting. I am the envy of the whole town, or so Toto tells me. How could I not be happy?”
“Maybe because you’d rather Toto tell you how much he misses you.”
Dorothy’s laughter died, turning into an annoyed glare, though the annoyance was more for herself. Was she that transparent?
“Just because you’re head over heels in love, it doesn’t mean the rest of us are, too,” she told Karin.
Karin seemed to pale slightly as she stopped walking. “I’m not head over heels in love,” she said, her voice faltering.
Dorothy stopped too. “Oh, come on, both you and Jed light up when the other comes near. You don’t notice anyone else is around. And you have this glow about you.”
Karin didn’t appear to see the humor in it. “It’s makeup.”
Dorothy wasn’t going to back down. Karin had always been so defensive about her feelings. “I couldn’t decide which was cuter in the show today,” Dorothy said. “The way you kept watching Jed, or the way he kept watching you.”
Panic seemed to flit through Karin’s eyes, but she just smiled. “I think the cutest thing is the way you and Toto avoid looking at each other at all. And then when your eyes do meet, you both go bright red.”
Dorothy felt as if the air had been knocked from her. “We do not.”
Karin’s smile changed, softened. Her eyes turned sad as she put a hand on Dorothy’s. “What would you say if I told you Toto’s been seeing someone else?”
Dorothy’s heart stopped. Totally. It just cracked in two and broke. She stared at Karin for the longest time. Why hadn’t anyone told her? She wouldn’t have come back. No, she had to come for Penny and Brad’s wedding, but then she would have left right away. She would never have stayed to be an object of pity around town.
She made herself smile somehow. “That’s wonderful,” she said. “Is it anyone I know? I’m so happy for him.”
Karin frowned. “He isn’t and you’re not,” she said. “But if you keep dragging your feet, one of these days he will be seeing someone else.”
It had been a trick? Dorothy tried to be angry, tried to be insulted. Tried to be anything but hurt and scared. She couldn’t seem to muster anything strong enough to fight the fear.
“I’m not the one dragging my feet,” she said.
“Oh, no?” Karin shifted her costume onto the other arm. “You’re waiting for your prince to show up and turning Toto away because he doesn’t have a fancy enough carriage or enough horses.”
Dorothy stared at her friend. “Where in the world did you come up with that?” she asked. “People in love always think everyone else is in love too, but it’s just not true.”
“This has nothing to do with me,” Karin said. “Your and Toto’s feelings for each other are obvious.”
“Not to those of us without the rose-colored glasses,” Dorothy said.
Karin frowned at her, biting her lip as if trying to make a decision. Finally, she put her hand on Dorothy’s arm. “Walk with me to my car, will you?”
Dorothy glanced around them. There was no one else in sight, so why the need for secrecy? But she walked along at Karin’s side.
“You might be right about people in love assuming others are too,” Karin said slowly. “But you’re wrong to lump me with them.”
Dorothy stared at her. “Huh? You’re trying to tell me you aren’t in love with Jed?”
“I’m not,” Karin said. They’d reached the car and, after putting the costume in the back, she turned to Dorothy once more. “And he’s not in love with me. Our engagement isn’t for real.”
Dorothy blinked once, as if this was a dream and that would take her back to reality. Nothing changed though. Karin was still staring at her, uncertainty in her eyes.
“I think I missed something here,” Dorothy said slowly. “What in the world are you talking about?”
Karin glanced around nervously as if she was afraid of being overheard. Or else she was just having trouble meeting Dorothy’s eyes.
“Someone got the wrong idea at the hospital after we were caught in the storm and Jed came with me to the wedding to set it straight. Except then, my mother and everybody were so excited there didn’t seem to be a way to tell the truth.”
“So you’ve been pretending to be engaged all week?” This was unbelievable. Dorothy glanced down and frowned. “What about the baby? Is that make-believe too?”
Karin shook her head. “But it’s not Jed’s. I first met him last Saturday.”
Dorothy leaned against the car, her legs not certain they could hold her up. “Let me get this straight. You met this guy on Saturday and convinced him to pretend to be engaged to you?” She started to laugh. “This is wild.”
“It is not,” Karin whispered sharply. “It was just an...an arrangement.”
“An arrangement?” Dorothy repeated, still laughing. “And are you going to pretend to get married, too?”
“Of course not,” Karin snapped. “Once the festival is over, he goes back to Los Angeles and I’ll tell Mom that we broke up.”
Dorothy stopped laughing and stood away from the car. “Why? Isn’t his carriage big enough or doesn’t he have enough horses?”
“What are you—” Karin stopped with a definite frown. “It’s not the same thing at all. Mine has been all pretense. Totally. Every minute of the past week. I’m the Tinman, remember? I don’t have a heart to lose.”
Dorothy smiled at her. “So every minute was fake?” she asked. Her smile deepened at the shadow that crossed Karin’s face. “There wasn’t one moment when you forgot you were pretending?”
Karin began to dig in her purse. “Of course not. I knew what I was getting into.” She pulled out her car keys. “I really need to get going. Mom’s hosting the school’s corn-roast dinner at the bar tonight and I need to help her.”
“Sure.” Dorothy stepped away from the car. “I’ll see you there.”
Jed came into the bar’s kitchen just as Karin was leaving it, a tray of clean silverware in her hands. He took it from her and leaned close.
“We really need to talk, darlin’,” he said, his voice ripe with urgency.
It was the urgency that made her spine tingle, Karin told herself. Nothing else. Certainly not his use of the word darlin’. She had spent the day getting herself in control and she wasn’t losing it now.
“In a minute,” she said and took the tray back from him. “I’ll take these out front. You bring more sweet corn outside.”
She hurried past him through the bar and out to the tables of food set up on the sidewalk in front. The cornstalks had been pulled away from the buildings and scattered about the sidewalk and blocked-off street. It was ready to be part of the traveling Wizard of Oz production tomorrow, but tonight tables had been added to accommodate the annual corn roast for the elementary-school library.
And it was a big job. Her mother had lots of volunteer help, but there still was plenty for Karin to do. So it wasn’t that she was avoiding Jed, but she wasn’t actually seeking him out, either. She was just so mixed up. Last night was wonderful, no doubt about it. But then this morning was awkward and just when she thought she was getting things worked out in her head, she spilled the beans to Dorothy. Of course, Dorothy was all wrong about everything—neither of them was in love.
Karin dumped the silverware tr
ay on the buffet table and began to refill the individual bins.
“This is going to be some busy weekend,” someone said to her.
“If you need anything, just ask,” someone else said.
Karin smiled and nodded. This wasn’t the first time this evening someone had offered their help. Why would this weekend be any busier than any other festival weekend? They must have thought she had more to do because she was a grand marshal. Elmer Brinkley was coming out of the bar when Karin was going back in.
“Ah, the lady of the hour,” he said as he stepped aside. “That special license will be no problem, either. Just tell me when you need it.”
With a pat on her arm, he went on by, leaving her staring after him.
Special license? What special license? She had her driver’s license and her medical one. Neither of which needed updating or modifying.
Nancy Abbott stopped and gave her a mighty hug. “This is so great,” she said. “Just say the word and I’ll organize the flowers.”
“What word?” Karin asked.
But Nancy just laughed and went over to get her food. Karin was too confused to move for a moment, then turned as she felt a hand on her arm. It was Jed. For a split second, her confusion fled as she was awash in fever, longing, embarrassment and awareness.
“What is going on?” she asked in a harsh whisper.
“People are making the strangest comments to me.”
He put the silverware tray on an empty table, then took Karin’s hand and led her away from the buffet.
“There go the lovebirds,” someone called out.
“Just remember that’s not a real field,” someone else said.
“And that there are kids around.”
Jed just laughed and smiled, but Karin was too conscious of her hand in his, and the fact that there was no real reason for the teasing. She told herself she was glad, but that didn’t explain the dread lurking behind her stiff smile.
Once they were in the relative seclusion of the make-believe cornfield, surrounded by tall, dried cornstalks, Jed let go of her hand. She stuck both her hands in the pocket of her apron.
“So what’s this all about?” she asked.
“Well, darlin’, it’s like this. Your mother wants us to get married this weekend.”
Chapter Ten
“She what?” Karin cried, trying to keep her voice low. She tried to say something—anything—else, but her mouth didn’t seem to work. The idea was appalling, terrifying, tantalizing. And utterly impossible.
“I guess this Elmer guy is some kind of judge,” Jed was going on in a quiet voice. “Your mom talked to him about getting a special license, found out the church is available Sunday afternoon and figures she could host a reception in the bar afterward.”
“We can’t,” Karin said, her brain finally allowing a word to come out.
He gave her a look that wondered why she was stating the obvious. Something she wondered herself.
“We’ll just tell them it’s too fast,” she went on, more briskly. “We couldn’t get your family here.”
“Lissa’s the only family I have left,” he said. “We’ll say you want your co-workers to be there.”
She shook her head. “No one will believe that. I haven’t taken the time to make many friends through work. Not personal ones that I’d want at my wedding.”
There was a burst of laughter nearby. Too close for comfort, though Karin doubted anyone was listening to them. Jed took her arm and pulled her farther into the cornfield.
“So what do we do?” he whispered.
She bit her lip, trying to think. It was easier once she took a step back from Jed, forcing him to let go of her.
“We could have a fight,” she suggested, brushing a corn leaf away from the back of her neck.
He nodded slowly, as if giving the idea some thought. “That might work. What would we fight about?”
“About where we’ll live after we’re married,” Karin said. How had that come to her so fast? It wasn’t as if she had given the matter any thought. Or not much, anyway.
“You want to move out to L.A.,” Jed said. “And I don’t want you to give up your practice.”
She stared at him with a frown. It was starting to get dark and his face was in the shadows. He was joking, he had to be. Would he really give up his life in L.A.—
Wait, what was she thinking? This was all pretend.
She crossed her arms over her chest, as if that would keep her head together. “Or how about you want to buy a horse farm out here but don’t want me to help pay for it?”
“I wouldn’t,” he agreed. His voice sounded almost belligerent.
“Why not?” she asked. “It would be my home, too.”
“A husband provides a home for his wife.”
She found his words disturbing and swatted impatiently at a pesky fly. “So he has to pay for it?”
“That’s what providing is.”
“Even if I make more money than you?”
“I don’t do badly.”
She couldn’t believe that he felt this way. It was so...so...old-fashioned and dumb. “But you don’t have enough cash for a ranch.”
“So it would take a few more years, what’s the big rush?”
“There’s no rush, but it’s stupid to wait when I have the money now.”
“It’s stupid to want to take care of your own?” he snapped. “Or do you just like the power that comes along with a big income?”
“You’re blowing this all out of proportion. Once we’re married—”
She stopped, her words echoing in the air around them as the world turned totally still. The crowd on the other side of the cornfield seemed to have disappeared. Or were they all listening in?
For a moment she couldn’t breathe, but then she made herself laugh. “Well, I guess we could do an argument pretty convincingly.”
He nodded, looking as if he needed a deep breath too. “Yeah.” His voice was low. “That went pretty well. Maybe we were even overheard.”
“Wouldn’t that be a break?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to re-create that, assuming she even could. “Actually, I’d be surprised if we—”
She stopped, her hand going down to her stomach. The baby was doing aerobics all of a sudden. It felt so strange, but wonderfully so. She grabbed Jed’s hand and put it on her stomach where the baby was kicking.
“Feel this,” she said with a laugh. “What do you think? Soccer player or football punter?”
He smiled, a warm secret smile that touched her in places she couldn’t name. He was still a moment, feeling the movement beneath his hand. “Could be a ballerina, darlin’. Or maybe a figure skater.”
“Better than a rock climber.”
“Or a rock star.”
“A rock star?” She had sudden visions of her child dressed in leather hounded by groupies and singing songs with lyrics she couldn’t understand. “Isn’t there a vaccination or something for that?”
He laughed and suddenly she was in his arms. It was the most magical place to be. A place where dreams were possible and the wildest wishes would come true. His lips came down on hers and she felt as if she was on a Ferris wheel, riding high up into the stars. A dizzy and dancing feeling was in the air, and she felt as if she could touch the sky.
Then his kiss changed, deepened, grew harder, as if he was needing something only she could give. It sent a shiver all through her, but it also awoke a deepening hunger, a call to rest in his arms and be totally one with him. Memories of last night echoed around her and she felt herself being swept away by them.
But he pulled away slowly, regretfully. “I’m sorry, darlin’,” he said.
She nodded, not quite up to words yet. A deep breath helped, and so did staring at the cornstalk next to Jed instead of at him. Her knees felt weak and she wasn’t sure she had a voice, but away from the spell he cast over her, she felt more herself.
“It’s okay,” she said. “Let’s just hope we weren�
��t seen. It wouldn’t have added anything to our argument.”
“We need to be more careful,” he said. “I need to be.”
“No, we both do.” She wasn’t letting him take the blame.
He sighed and stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “About last night.” He cleared his throat. “That shouldn’t have happened either.”
“No.” He was right but somehow it hurt to have him say so.
“Not that it wasn’t wonderful,” he added quickly.
His words eased the hurt a bit. “It was,” she agreed. “But it was just hormones on my part.”
“And I guess I was lonelier than I realized.” He gave her a smile that sent little tremors through her. “But now that we know what caused it, we can make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“Right. We can be more careful.”
“And it’ll be even easier since we’ve had our argument.”
“I almost forgot about that.” She pulled all the fraying pieces of her sanity back together. “You’re a stubborn chauvinistic jerk.”
“And you’re flaunting your success.”
She nodded, feeling strangely alone all of a sudden. The irritation wasn’t there anymore and the words just seemed to build a wall between them. “Well, it’s been fun,” she said.
“Yeah, it has, darlin’.”
He sounded almost surprised, but she was not going to dwell on that. Just as she was not going to dwell on the sense of loss making her want to cry. She turned and walked out of the cornfield.
Her mother met her at the door to the bar. “There you are, sweetie,” Marge said. “Did Jed tell you about my little idea?”
Karin took a deep breath. “That chauvinistic jerk?” she said. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Karin!” her mother cried, but Karin just kept on walking. Why did she feel she was betraying part of herself?
“Jed? What are you doing out here?” Marge asked.
Jed sat up on the sofa, barely able to open his eyes. Damn, he was getting tired of these games. He couldn’t sleep when he was in the bedroom and so close to Karin, but once he exiled himself to the sofa in the living room, he couldn’t because she was too far away. Thank goodness the festival started today and this whole thing was almost over.
Pregnant & Practically Married (The Bridal Circle #3) Page 16
