At Long Last, a Bride

by Susan Crosby

  She’s a big girl. She can take care of herself.

  True. It was just that he was so used to watching over her. It was hard to change a behavior that deeply ingrained.

  “So,” Joe said to Shana, changing the subject. “How is it being home?”

  “I hate living in my parents’ house. Hate it. It’s like being a teenager again.”

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  “Well, I have no money, so what do you think I can do about it?”

  “You’re a smart woman. You figure it out,” he said, echoing her earlier statement, but tempering the words with a smile.

  “Touché.”

  He nodded. For a few minutes he savored his meal and the kids at the table, getting into the spirit of the moment, enjoying the way they tried to hide the cranberry sauce on their plates under other food, getting a kick out of how many rolls they could consume.

  Joe had purposely planted himself with his back to the table where Dixie and Kincaid sat, but he never stopped being aware they were next to each other. Dixie used to sit at the kids’ table with Joe.

  “What’s your work history?” he asked Shana. She’d left for a minute to get Emma, who’d awakened from her nap, crying, and who now gulped down a bottle.

  “Waited tables, telemarketing, cleaned cages at a zoo and fed the animals.” She gave him a cocky grin. “That job prepared me well for this day.”

  He laughed. “Do you like being outdoors? Do you mind physical labor?”

  “Yes. No.”

  “I could use some temporary help. My Christmas tree farm opens for the season tomorrow. I’m always looking for good help. Most of my staff are high school and college students, and they end up with surprise projects or performances or mental-health days. Would you be willing to fill in?”

  “What about Emma?”

  “Look around. Starting with my mom and working down the tables, you’ve got at least ten willing volunteers.”

  “I don’t know how I can afford to pay for sitting. No offense, Joe, but I don’t imagine the job pays a whole lot.”

  “Hey, Mom!” Joe hollered over the din to his mother at the next table. “How much would you charge to watch Emma if Shana works a few hours a day at the tree farm?”

  Shana hissed at Joe. “Stop. Are you out of your—”

  “Charge?” Aggie shouted back. “Don’t you mean, how much would she charge me to watch that adorable peanut?”

  “Settled?” he asked Shana.

  She nodded once, then touched her forehead to her baby’s. “We’ve never been apart.”

  “It’ll be good for her, too, you know. It takes a village, and all that.”

  “I know. It’s just hard.”

  “It won’t be enough money for you to get a place of your own, but it’ll be spending money,” he said. “You won’t be beholden to your sister.”

  “She’s letting me work it off. I clean the beauty shop and her apartment. She picked up some used furniture, and I’m refinishing it. We’re working it out.”

  “What happens when your parents come home?”

  “I don’t know. I hadn’t planned on staying that long.” She leaned close. “I don’t want to see them, Joe. Not now. Not ever.”

  “If you stay, you won’t be able to avoid them.”

  “I know.” She looked around, then whispered, “Can Emma and I move in with you?”

  Chapter Eight

  Almost from the moment she’d arrived for Thanksgiving, Dixie had regretted giving in to Aggie’s I-won’t-take-no-for-an-answer invitation.

  She should be working. The problem was, everyone was taking the day off.

  As they should.

  Right. It was Thanksgiving, after all, she reminded herself—again. However, there was so much to do, and so few hours in a day.

  But that wasn’t all. She wanted to escape—from Kincaid’s attention, from everyone’s gazes shifting from her to Joe, looking curious, or worse, sympathetic. Then there was that intense conversation going on between her sister and Joe during most of the meal. What was that about?

  Dixie knew neither would confide in her what they’d said, and she had no right to ask. Apparently, however, Shana had lined up a job, which was good.

  “Are you still eating or can I take your plate?” Kincaid asked.

  She’d eaten about half. “I’m done, thanks. But you don’t have to do that.”

  “Earning my keep. Plus, I need to move around. My stomach is threatening to go on strike.” He bent close to her. “Then maybe we could go for a walk and you can tell me why I seem to be getting on your nerves.”

  Startled, she stared at the table for a few seconds, then watched him disappear into the kitchen. She had no intention of getting that personal with Kincaid, even though he was right. He had gotten on her nerves, although she couldn’t identify specifically why. All she knew for sure was that he was her landlord and Realtor, and she knew better than to mix business and pleasure.

  Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. She glanced at the screen, saw it was an unknown caller and debated whether to answer. She did, finally, stepping into the front yard, away from the hubbub.

  “Hi, sweetheart! Happy Thanksgiving.”

  “Mom.” Dixie looked around as she walked up the street a ways, keeping an eye out for Shana. “Same to you. Where are you?”

  “Are you ready for this? Las Vegas!”

  They’d been headed for San Diego.

  “How’d you end up there?”

  “We got lost.” Bea laughed.

  “But I programmed the GPS system for you. All you had to do was push a button and follow the directions.”

  “It was too confusing. She kept saying she was recalculating all the time. It drove us both crazy. Get this! Dad won nine hundred dollars playing a slot machine last night. I don’t think he’s ever going to leave. But it gets better. The National Hardware Show will be held here next week. Can you believe it?”

  Dixie laughed. Her parents had owned a hardware store for fifty years and had never gone to a convention. What were the odds of them coming across it out of the blue?

  “So, how is Thanksgiving in Vegas?”

  “Why, it’s amazing. The abundance of food? My word. And everyone is so nice and friendly. It’s not as good as dinner at Aggie’s, of course, but I didn’t have to fix it. Or clean up.” She sounded happy and relaxed.

  “How’s Dad? Is he managing the RV okay?”

  “Perfect. We couldn’t have done it without you, Dixie. You’re the best daughter ever. Everything is okay there, right?”

  Dixie had thought she might test the waters about Shana when her parents checked in, and tell them she’d heard from their long-lost daughter. But hearing how happy her mother was, she decided not to—although she knew it might come back to bite her at some point.

  “Everything is fine, Mom. Don’t worry about anything. Sales are holding steady. Doug’s doing a great job. Everyone asks about you and hopes you’re enjoying yourselves.”

  “Tell them yes! I don’t suppose you went to Aggie’s this year.”

  “Actually, I did. Aggie insisted.”

  “That woman. Honestly.”

  “Please don’t, Mom.” Dixie may be wishing she hadn’t come to dinner today, but she wouldn’t stand for any criticism of Aggie McCoy, who’d loved her unconditionally, who’d mothered her in ways her own mother hadn’t. “What’s your plan for after the hardware show?”

  “We don’t know. What do you think about that? We’re having the best time, Dixie. He’s eating again,” she said soft and low.

  “Why wasn’t he before?”

  “I think he’s been depressed. I saw a show about it on Oprah.” Her voice picked up again. “I’ve got to go now. Dad’s waving me over. We’ve got reservations for some fancy show or other. Give everyone my best.”

  Feeling herself grinning, Dixie shoved her phone in her pocket. She had never heard her mother so excited about anything. Ever.<
br />
  “You didn’t tell them about me,” Shana said from behind her. “Thanks.”

  Dixie turned around. “It wasn’t the right time. And I’m thinking you should be the one to do the telling. I’m done with being the mediator in this family.”

  “Fair enough. I gather I have a few more days?”

  Dixie reached for Emma, who giggled and stuck her fingers in Dixie’s mouth. “Looks like they’re staying through next week, anyway.”

  “A lot can happen in a week,” she said in a tone that made Dixie wonder. Shana kept so much to herself.

  “So, you’re going to work for Joe.” They headed back to the house. There was still cleanup to do and dessert to be served.

  “Can’t turn down anything that pays, can I? I’m not qualified in any traditional ways for a lot of jobs. But I work hard and, believe it or not, I’m always on time.” She put her hands behind her back and looked straight ahead. “I asked Joe if I could live at his house. Your house. Whatever you call it. I mean, he says he’s going to be gone a lot, and so it’s just sitting there. But he said no. That it wouldn’t look right.”

  Relief blanketed Dixie before she knew how she even felt about the situation. “You hate living at Mom and Dad’s that much?”

  “I can’t begin to tell you. I don’t have a single good memory from that place, Dix. Not one.” She grabbed her daughter’s hand and kissed it. “If it weren’t for Emma, I’d just as soon sleep in my car.”

  “If it weren’t for Emma, you wouldn’t even be in Chance City.”

  Shana shrugged. “Moot point, I guess.”

  They walked into the house. Dixie spotted Joe first, then Kincaid just beyond him. Feeling stuck, she sent a smile toward both of them, passed Emma to Shana, then took off for the kitchen to hide.

  Behind her, Shana clucked softly.

  Dixie started to turn around, annoyed. Then she laughed. As complicated as her life had gotten, keeping her sense of humor was a priority.

  Even if it was at her own expense.

  “That was quite an event yesterday,” Kincaid said the next morning, inviting Joe to take a seat across from his. His large mahogany desk was free of clutter, only one file folder on the desktop. His office was small, with no assistant, or even a place for one.

  Joe found himself looking for reasons to mistrust the man now that Shana had planted that seed. “Some years are wilder than others.”

  “How would you rank yesterday’s?”

  Joe thought it over. “Somewhere in the middle. There were more people than usual, but better behavior. Most of my nieces and nephews are in their twenties now and not as rowdy as they were, but they also brought dates.”

  “Is your Christmas like that?”

  “Mom usually has an open house from noon on, so people come and go.” He couldn’t tell if Kincaid was cringing at the thought or just curious. “You get used to it.”

  “If you say so.” He opened the single folder and placed the paperwork in front of Joe. “Look these over, then sign where I’ve put the flags.”

  Having never sold property before, Joe took his time reviewing the papers. Kincaid didn’t drum his fingers on the desktop, but he did a certain amount of shifting around. So. He wasn’t as patient as he seemed.

  “Do you have any questions?” Kincaid asked, looking at his watch.

  “Am I keeping you from something?”

  He hesitated. “I’ve got a haircut at nine-thirty.”

  With Dixie. The unspoken words loomed large.

  “I could come back.” Anything to stall the deal. That realization struck hard. He didn’t want to sign the papers, didn’t want to set the sale in motion now that he had doubts about Kincaid. He’d been so sure before….

  He stacked the papers. “I’ll just take them with me to look over. Have my lawyer take a look.” His lawyer would have to be his newest sister-in-law, since she was the only lawyer he knew, although she did family law, not real estate.

  Joe stood before Kincaid could argue the point, but a speculative look settled in Kincaid’s eyes, as if he knew what Joe was up to, had recognized the stall for what it was.

  “Maybe you’d prefer to list with another Realtor,” Kincaid said, following Joe to the door. “Someone you feel more comfortable with.”

  What are your intentions regarding Dixie? Joe wanted to ask, even though he’d help set that ball in motion.

  “I’ve never sold a house before,” Joe said, instead of the question shouting in his head. “I like to know what I’m getting myself into.”

  Kincaid nodded. “Okay. Give me a call when you’re ready.”

  Joe noticed the For Sale sign leaning against the wall by the door then. He hadn’t seen it when he’d come into the office because his back had been to it. The reality struck him hard. He didn’t want to give up his house. Even without Dixie.

  He wanted a place to come home to, a house that was his, not a rented apartment or whatever other home base he’d thought he would have.

  Joe extended a hand to Kincaid. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Laura’s office was two doors down from Dixie’s beauty shop, so he ended up following Kincaid and seeing him enter the shop as Joe walked from his truck into Laura’s office. Neither man acknowledged the other.

  “Why, if it isn’t Joseph McCoy himself.” Dolly Bannister, Laura’s sociable mother and assistant, manned the lobby desk. “I didn’t get a chance to hug you yesterday in that mass of humanity.” She did so then.

  Laura came out of her private office, looking as cool and collected as any beauty-queen-turned-lawyer ever was. She’d learned to let her hair down lately, since Donovan and Ethan had become part of her life. Joe’s brother and nephew had been good for her—and vice versa.

  “Got a minute?” Joe asked Laura.

  She gestured toward her office. “You’ll be rescuing me from a mound of paperwork.”

  “Which she needs to get done,” Dolly said. “That’s what you get for going on a honeymoon.”

  Laura shut the door. “We’ve been back a week, and I’m still trying to get out from under it all. Have a seat, Joe. You look a little shell-shocked.”

  Which was exactly how he felt. “This is a contract for the sale of my house. I’m sure it’s standard, but I’d like you to read it.”

  “I’d be happy to.”

  “And find something in it that will let me stall.”

  She sat back, her eyes searching his. “Talk to me, Joe.”

  “If I could put it into words, I would. I just realized I was making a mistake, but I have to think it through, beginning to end, before I do anything about it.”

  “Well, I am deep in paperwork at the moment. It would be easy for me to put off looking at it for, say, a week. Is that long enough?”

  “For the moment. Dixie’s loan for her shop is secured, regardless of the house sale, so there’s no reason for me to rush because of that. She’s okay.”

  “It may not affect her financially, but personally she’ll wonder.”

  He couldn’t talk to Shana about Dixie, but could he ask Laura, one of Dixie’s best friends, Is she dating Kincaid? It was a simple question—

  That he couldn’t ask. Had no right to ask. “I can’t explain it.”

  “Can’t or won’t? I’m now your lawyer, Joe, and your sister-in-law. I’ll keep your confidences.”

  “You’re one of Dixie’s best friends, too.”

  Her brows arched high. “Ah. I see. Having a change of heart, are you?”

  He waited a beat, letting the question settle. “About the house, yes.”

  She smiled, that kind of secretive smile that women used when they’d known something you didn’t know yourself, then it turned out they were right. He knew that smile well. He’d been surrounded by women all his life.

  “Okay, Joe. I’ll take a week looking over your contract. You let me know if you want me to take less or more time. But let me tell you this much about Kincaid—when he sees something he wa
nts, he goes after it, and I’m not just talking about property.”

  “I figured that out. But thanks.”

  Joe resisted the temptation to walk past Dixie’s shop. He drove to his Christmas tree farm instead. Shana was there, learning the ropes.

  “I didn’t know so many people chose their Christmas tree the day after Thanksgiving,” she said.

  “Tradition. Can’t mess with it.”

  “The trees smell so good.” She walked with him as he went up and down the rows, assuring himself that everything was in order. “Almost puts me in the mood for Christmas.”

  “Do you think you’ll be here?”

  She shrugged.

  “How was it leaving Emma at Mom’s?”

  “I cried all the way here.” She gave Joe an isn’t-that-ridiculous look. “And another part of me is happy to get a breather. I couldn’t plunge into a full-time job yet, I don’t think, but this is okay. Thank you.”

  “Glad I could help.”

  “Kincaid walked her home last night,” she said without preamble.

  Joe was beginning to wonder about Shana’s motives for continuing to bring up Kincaid. Was she really worried that he wasn’t what he seemed and therefore might present a danger to Dixie? Or was Shana trying to make him jealous? Maybe it was payback because he hadn’t let her live at his house.

  Whatever her reason, he wasn’t going to play the game.

  “Okay,” he said, even though it bothered the hell out of him that Kincaid had walked Dixie home. Had he given her a hug? Kissed her good-night?

  “Okay? That’s it?”

  “That’s it.” He’d do his own investigating, make up his own mind. “Now. Let’s pick out a tree for Nana Mae and put a Sold sign on it. She won’t want it for a couple more weeks.”

  Shana walked silently beside him as he looked at trees. Nana Mae liked hers to touch the ceiling, which meant a ten-footer. He found the perfect tree and tied a Sold sign to it. Only then did he look at Shana—and noted the furrow between her brows and her set mouth.

  “You have something to say?” he asked.

  “Yes, I do.” She leaned close as a customer came into view. “Maybe you’ve washed your hands of my sister, but I haven’t. She’s already driving herself crazy with the amount of work she’s taken on, so she’s vulnerable, you know? A man who can relieve some of her burdens stands a good chance with her right now.”