Ross watched her chew with something very near jealousy. “Good?” he asked and Ellie nodded, feeling a little guilty for eating his pie. But not guilty enough to stop eating it. It was his own fault, really. If he was truly in love with Tori, he should have been able to tell her he liked pie. Did he think he could keep eating nothing but vegetables for the rest of his life?
The rest of his life. The strawberries seemed suddenly tart and not nearly as sweet. Ross was going to marry Tori and give up pie for the rest of his life. And there wasn’t a damn thing Ellie could do to stop it. She’d tried to burst the bubble of infatuation in the past and been rewarded with a few choice words which should never be exchanged between friends...even if one of them was a knucklehead who apologized afterward, admitting he hadn’t been thinking straight, and asking her how he could have ever imagined he was in love with such a nitwit.
But through the years of watching Ross fall in and out of love, Ellie had picked up a couple of absolute rules for their friendship. Hands off. Mouth shut. Agree with anything he said about the apple of his eye until he came to his senses and asked her why she hadn’t told him he was merely in the throes of yet another infatuation. Ellie knew the routine. Except this time when Ross came to his senses, he’d be married. Forever. And he’d never get to taste another bite of Hazel’s strawberry pie.
“We’d better get going.” Tori took a last, long sip of her drink, then looked at Ross expectantly. “We don’t want to keep Reverend Minks waiting.” Her gaze turned to Ellie. “Ross and I have a phobia about being late. Just drives us crazy to be running behind schedule. He simply refuses to be hurried.”
Ross avoided Ellie’s questioning gaze—probably because he knew what she was thinking—and slid from the booth, allowing Tori to slide out after him. “Why don’t you go on out to the car while I take care of the bill?” he suggested. “Hazel will want to talk and if you’re already outside, I can honestly tell her that I can’t keep you waiting while we chat.”
Tori nodded and went up on tiptoe to kiss his chin. “You think of everything,” she said in a very nitwit-y tone of voice. “Bye, Ellie. I’m so glad we’ve had some time to get acquainted. I hope I’ll see you again before the rehearsal dinner Thursday night. Maybe you’d like to go with me and my bridesmaids for a manicure later in the week.”
“That sounds lovely,” Ellie said without so much as a blink at the lie. “I’ll look forward to it.”
“Bye.” Tori waved like Miss America to Hazel and anyone else who happened to be watching her exit. Which happened to be everyone in the diner. “Thank you. Bye.”
Ross watched her until the bell over the front door chimed the news of her exit. Then he plopped onto the bench seat and grabbed the pie plate right out from under Ellie’s fork. “Give me that,” he said. “I’m in a hurry.” Then he ate all that remained of the strawberry pie.
Chapter Three
Ellie knew even before she opened her door that Ross would be on the other side and still, she was somehow surprised to find him there.
“Hi,” he said, his hands shoved casually into the pockets of a pair of tight, faded blue jeans. “Is it too late to drop by? You weren’t already in bed, were you?”
“It’s only nine o’clock, Ross. Even here in backward Bachelor Falls, we get to stay up until ten.”
“But only on weekends, if I remember correctly.”
“True, but as the Bachelor Daze festival runs through Saturday, Mayor Jimmy has decreed that the streets don’t get rolled up until eleven. And Friday night, for the Falls Day Street Dance, everyone gets to stay up an extra hour to midnight in honor of the newly showered and newly un-showered bachelors.” She stepped back and held the door open for him. As if he needed an invitation. “So, Mr. Kilgannon, this is your lucky week.”
“I knew there was a good reason I came home just now.” Ross walked past her and immediately looked as familiar and comfortable in her front room as the slip-covered furniture.
She closed the door behind him and leaned back against it. “I thought maybe you chose this week so you could accidentally shower in the falls and escape your impending matrimony.”
He frowned amiably. “You’ve been in this town too long, Eliot. You’re beginning to sound like the natives.”
“I am a native, Ross. Just like you. And you know I don’t believe that getting dunked in our famous falls, whether by accident or design, is going to keep anyone from getting married, no matter how many stories folks around here like to tell to the contrary. I was just teasing you a little, trying to see if you were getting cold feet.”
“Cold feet?” One of his eyebrows angled sharply, defensively. “Why would you say that?”
She shrugged. “No particular reason. I was only joking.”
“Well, for your information, I’m not getting cold feet. I mean, why would I? Tori’s great. She’s perfect. Everyone who meets her falls in love with her.” He narrowed his green eyes at Ellie’s composed and noncommittal expression. “And you can wipe that expression right off your face, Eliot. I know what you’re thinking, but Tori is different. I’m crazy about her and I’m going to marry her.”
If Ellie had needed further proof that this was infatuation and not the real thing, the defensive note in his voice offered sufficient grounds for suspicion and the tense set of his shoulders weighed in as pretty strong evidence, too. But she was keeping her opinions to herself. At least she would keep her mouth shut on this, his first night back in town and possibly the only opportunity she might get to spend time alone with him. “I wasn’t going to say anything negative, Ross. Tori is wonderful. I like her very much and I can see that you’re crazy about her. I’m happy for you. I really am.”
He nodded, his tension easing, as if he’d expected an argument and was relieved when it didn’t materialize. “I just had to get out for a while,” he explained, even though she hadn’t asked. “A guy can only talk so much about weddings before going stir-crazy, you know.” He moved through the front room and into the kitchen, where he opened the refrigerator door and stood in the soft, artificial glow while he studied the contents of the shelves.
“There’s a leftover salad in the crisper.” Ellie moved to the kitchen doorway, crossed her arms over her terry-cloth robe, and tried to absorb some of the energy Ross always seemed to bring with him wherever he went. After Saturday she doubted he would have much occasion to walk into her house again as if he belonged there. After Saturday she doubted she’d have many more opportunities to just stand and watch him check out the food in her fridge. “There may even be some carrots in a bag, already peeled and ready to eat.”
He didn’t acknowledge her offer of healthy choices, just moved things around, pulled out the milk carton and set it on the counter, his expression turning hopeful. “What have you got to go with this?” he asked. “Your mom’s chocolate chip cookies, maybe?”
“No. Sorry. Mom’s in California visiting my aunt Shirl, and I’ve been too busy keeping up with the garage and the garden to do any baking. She had this trip planned for ages and, unfortunately, she’s going to miss the wedding Saturday, but she said to give you and Tori a big kiss and her best wishes.”
Ross looked wistfully at the milk carton, then set it back on the shelf and closed the refrigerator door. “Want to go over to Ernie’s and shoot some pool?”
“With you?”
“Of course with me. I wasn’t suggesting you should go by yourself and leave me here with your empty refrigerator.”
He certainly sounded testy this evening. “Do you want something to eat?” she asked. “There may be some ice cream in the freezer.”
“Thanks, but I’m not really hungry. Just a little on edge, I guess.”
A lot on edge, Ellie thought, but knew better than to say. “You seemed fine this afternoon when we left Hazel’s.”
“I was fine. I am fine. I just wanted to put on an old pair of jeans and a T-shirt and get out of my parents’ house for a while. Do you have a probl
em with that?”
“No, of course not I’m just a little surprised is all.”
“I don’t know why you would be. I always show up at your house sooner or later. And it’s not like I left Tori to twiddle her thumbs, you know. She and my mother were counting place settings when I left. I think we’re up to some ungodly number like seventeen or twenty-three, or something distressingly uneven.”
Ellie bit back a smile at the long-suffering expression on his face. “Place settings, huh?”
“Look, don’t give me a hard time about this tonight. All I want is a little companionship and a conversation that doesn’t revolve around dresses, flowers, rehearsal dinners, bridesmaids, wedding ceremonies or place settings.”
“Hmm. I’d hoped we could discuss which pocket I should keep Tori’s ring in during the ceremony, but if you’re not in the mood...” She loved the flash of exasperation in his eyes, knowing it had nothing to do with her. “And I would like to know what color boutonniere all of us groomsmen will be wearing, but I can wait to find that out. I don’t have to know this instant.”
“The boutonnieres are going to be a single, summer-watermelon-pink rosebud tied with spring-showers-green ribbon and a sprig of albino parsley.” He rubbed the back of his neck as if it pained him, then continued in a dismal tone of voice. “Those are our colors, Tori tells me. The pink and the green. I just made that up about the parsley.”
She laughed. “I sort of figured that.”
“Did you? Tori didn’t think it was very funny.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?” he repeated on a frustrated sigh. “What do you mean, ‘Oh?’”
Ellie straightened and pushed away from the door frame. “I said, ‘Oh,’ and I meant, ‘Oh.’ And don’t you go thinking I’ll let you beat me at billiards just because you’re in a bad mood, either. While you’ve been gone, I’ve been getting in a lot of practice and I will whip your socks off.”
Humor made a leisurely return to his eyes. “Well, I suppose you can try.”
“No trying to it,” she assured him. “The first time you line up a shot, I’ll start humming Lohengrin.” She demonstrated the first few notes of the wedding march in a threatening hum. “All’s fair in love, war and billiards, you know.”
“Put your money where your mouth is, Eliot. Let’s go.”
“Give me fifteen minutes to change clothes and you’re on.”
“You look great as you are. Let’s go.”
Ellie shook her head, wishing that just once Ross would pay some slight attention to what she was or wasn’t wearing. “I’m changing,” she said unequivocally. “No matter how much you try to turn my head with your pretty compliments, I am not wearing my bathrobe to Ernie’s. It’ll only take a few minutes. Make yourself comfortable,” she added, as if he wasn’t already as much at home in her house as she was.
He opened the freezer door. “Did you say you have some ice cream?”
“Yellow plastic bowl. Next to the frozen pound cake.”
Ross’s mmm-mm of anticipated pleasure followed her all the way down the hall and until she closed her bedroom door.
THE WILD MOUSE BAR AND GRILL was as sleazy as it was possible to be in conservative Bachelor Falls. It was more bar than grill, but Ernie Potts, the proprietor, didn’t want anyone—particularly Hazel or Mabel—accusing him of running a beer joint, so the menu featured a single entrée. A cheese-and-onion sandwich, which Ernie grilled on a hot plate upon request. And he got a lot of requests.
The place always smelled of onions and beer and echoed with lots of laughter and some pretty tall tales. When it wasn’t out of order, the jukebox played Ernie’s favorite mix of music—a little country, a little rock and roll and a lot of western swing. Ernie had asthma and consequently, there was no smoking allowed on the premises. He diligently checked IDs—as if everyone in town didn’t know the age and birth date of everyone else—and absolutely no one under twenty-one was admitted for any reason. Over the years, getting into The Wild Mouse had become a rite of passage eagerly awaited or fondly remembered by practically everyone who grew up in Bachelor Falls.
Ellie spent much of the four-block walk to the bar telling Ross why none of their old gang was likely to be shooting pool at Ernie’s on a Monday night. But as if they expected one of their own to return, three longtime friends were chalking pool cues when Ross and Ellie walked in.
“Ross!” Shorty Silvers, a very tall, very lanky young man, hollered across the bar. “Hey, buddy, we were just talking about you. Hey, Ellie.”
“Hey, Shorty.” She approached the table, nodding to each of the men in turn, using the Ozark greeting of “hey” in place of “hi.” “Hey, Travis. Hey, Bobby Joe.”
“Hey, Ellie.” They greeted her in return, their smiles going straight to her companion.
Bobby Joe slapped his arm around Ross’s back and escorted him to the billiard table in play. “It’s about time you returned to your roots, son. Rack ’em, Travis. I’m gonna beat the pants off our illustrious doctor, here.”
“You’ll have to get in line,” Ross said with a laugh. “Ellie’s already called dibs on my socks.”
“Ellie always did think like a girl.” Bobby Joe shook his head and gave her a haven’t-we-taught-you-better look. “You’ve got to make the prize interesting, or else what’s the point?”
“Ernie!” Travis yelled at the bartender. “Bring Ross a beer and put it on my tab.”
Ernie came around the end of the bar before Travis had finished his order. “Welcome home,” he said, giving Ross’s hand a firm shake. “You want a beer? A sandwich? You name it, boy, and it’s yours. On the house.”
“Hey, Ernie,” Shorty complained. “How come you never say that to the rest of us? Aren’t we your best customers?”
“Yeah,” Travis joined in good-naturedly. “Ross deserted you for the big city.”
“He left home to make something of himself.” Ernie dismissed the complaints as he wiped down the counter. “Wasn’t content to hang around a pool hall like the rest of you yahoos.”
“Now, Ernie.” Travis straddled a nearby chair. “Some of us had to stay in Bachelor Falls and be your customers. Otherwise Ross wouldn’t have a place to play pool when he does decide to come home.”
“Yeah, Ernie.” Bobby Joe lent moral support. “Anybody would think going to the community college, like all of us did except Ross, wasn’t good enough.”
Ernie tucked the bar rag in his apron pocket, unimpressed by the argument. “Ain’t his fault the rest of you didn’t apply to med school, now, is it?”
Ross chose a cue from the rack on the wall and handled it with loving regard. “You give me too much credit, Ernie. If Ellie hadn’t broken her ankle the summer we were fifteen and decided one of us ought to become a doctor, I probably would have stayed right here in Bachelor Falls and become the local pool hustler. And I’d have been a damn good one, too. Certainly better than any one of these guys, that’s for sure.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Ellie racked the balls into a triangle of solids and stripes and stepped back from the table. “You’ve always been a big talker, Kilgannon. Now, show us what you learned in the big city. Break.”
The other men grinned in approval. “You tell him, Ellie.”
He eyed her with a smile of practiced tolerance. “All right,” he said magnanimously. “I just hope maturity has taught you to be a good loser because you are not getting a pair of my socks tonight.” And with that, he sighted the cue ball and sent it spinning, breaking the triangle and neatly pocketing the number-ten ball in the corner pocket.
“Beginner’s luck,” Ellie muttered and thought how very much she’d missed him. She felt so lucky to be here with Ross now, to be watching the precise way he sized up a shot, the lean intensity of his body as he moved around the table, the satisfied set of his jaw when the ball spun unerringly into the called pocket. She liked everything about him, even the way he looked in his old jeans, and she hoped with all her heart that Tori underst
ood and appreciated the man she was about to marry.
“You may as well start saying your prayers, Eliot.” Ross pointed the cue stick at the eight ball and then to the side pocket. “Because I am about to own your socks.”
“I’m not wearing any, but I’ll give you a place setting of china as a trophy,” Ellie said.
He missed the shot and the cue ball slid into the pocket. Ellie blew imaginary smoke from the end of her cue stick, winning without ever having taken a shot. “I love it when that happens. Hand over those socks, my friend.”
“I demand a rematch,” Ross said pleasantly. “On the grounds that you took advantage of my prenuptial state of mind.”
“That’s right,” Travis said. “He’s a doomed man and it’s flat-out cheating to remind him of it just before a shot.”
Bobby Joe laughed. “He’s doomed, all right. Five more days, Ross, until those church bells toll for you.”
“The old ball and chain. I made a narrow escape myself just last year.” Shorty tipped his beer bottle to his lips in commiseration. “Take my advice and get the hell out to the falls before it’s too late.”
“I already suggested that,” Ellie said. “And he assured me he wants to get married.”
Travis put a hand on Ross’s forehead. “He’s feverish. Talking out of his head.”
“Marriage isn’t so bad.” Bobby Joe patted Ross’s shoulder sympathetically. “Not for the first few days, anyway.”
“Yeah, but after that...” Travis turned his thumbs down and shook his head sadly. “Listen to us, Ross. We know whereof we speak, don’t we, Bobby Joe?”
Ellie cleared her throat loudly and used her pool cue to tap Travis on the shoulder. “Tami is the best thing that ever happened to you, Trav, and you know it. And Bobby Joe, don’t try to con us into thinking you’re not the one who begged Carla to marry you. Ross and I were there. We stopped you from serenading her with that stupid song you wrote, remember? If she’d heard you sing that, it’s for sure you’d still be single.”
A Bachelor Falls Page 4
