by Lori Wilde
“Oh, we’ll have it in a backyard garden.”
“I’ve got a place in mind,” Mariah said. “It’s not a Victorian home, but rather a Victorian garden setting. It’s called Pandora’s Garden. In 1926 a British portrait painter moved with his bride, Pandora, to Jubilee—she was a fiend for cutting horses—and he built her an elaborate English garden. They’re both gone now, but the gardens remain as a local treasure run by their descendants. We could host the reception tea there.”
“That sounds splendid. Yes, yes, yes. Let’s do that.” Melinda Messing face lit up with excitement.
“What time of year are you thinking?” Mariah asked. “Texas weather is only accommodating a few months out of the year for a pleasant outdoor experience.”
“Tell me about it.” The woman fanned herself with a hand. “It’s already like an oven outside and it’s only the beginning of July. Luckily, they’ve set the date for next April.”
“Lots of showers in April,” Mariah said.
“We’ll put up canopies just in case.”
“Okay.”
“Now, let’s talk menu.” Melinda Messing shifted her gaze to Annie. “What are some of your favorite tea items?”
“Water English cucumber with minted butter is traditional,” Annie said.
“On white bread?”
“Sourdough might make a nice twist.”
“Good idea,” Melinda said. “What else?”
“Roast beef with horseradish. Stilton cheese and pear in miniature pita pockets, smoked salmon with lemon-zested butter, Black Forest ham with grainy Dijon mustard,” Annie ticked off the menu of the last teas she’d hosted.
“Damn,” Prissy said. “You sure know a lot about tea sandwiches.”
Annie was on a roll. At last, here was something she was an expert on. “You want loose leaf tea, no tea bags. So you’ll need a hundred strainers or tea balls. You’ll need sugar cubes, lemon slices, milk.”
Everyone was staring at her now, jaws agape.
Annie smiled, enjoying herself. “For dessert you must have scones and clotted cream. End of discussion.”
“Yes, yes.” Melinda Messing nodded.
“I also recommend four other dessert options. Some classics are lemon squares, ginger pecan biscuits, lavender shortbread, and the Victoria sponge cake.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a sponge cake elevated to celestial status by orange zest, rosewater, raspberry jam, scraped vanilla bean, iced with a delicate sugar glaze and topped with fresh raspberries,” Annie rattled off.
Simultaneously, everyone—including the cameraman—breathed in a hungry sigh.
“As for teas,” she went on, “I recommend having three selections. Earl Grey is the old standby, but I favor Baroness Grey. It is a blend of high-grown Ceylon black tea infused with cornflowers, lemon peels, and rose petals and flavored—as is Earl Grey—with bergamot.” It felt good. This knowledge. Their admiration as they hung on her every word. She’d been hosting teas all her life and never considered it a useful skill until now.
“Wow,” Prissy exclaimed. “She’s the tea whisperer.”
Pride puffed Annie’s chest and she just kept talking, never stopping to consider she might be giving away more about herself than was prudent. “Then there is Darjeeling. It is a light golden tea from Northern India. It possesses a delicate muscatel note and it is sometimes referred to as the champagne of teas.”
“She is the tea whisperer.” Melinda Messing laughed.
Giddiness galloped over her. She did not know when to stop. “I also recommend Red Rooibos. It is an herbal decaffeinated tea with a fresh, sweet flavor.”
“You are a treasure and when Peyton sees how much you look like Princess Annabella, she’s going to be beside herself.” The cultured woman motioned to the cameraman. “Let’s get the photograph now.”
“Photograph?” Annie said, but no one answered her. The next thing she knew, she was standing beside Melinda Messing while the photographer snapped their picture.
When he was finished, the older woman turned to Mariah. “I could not be happier with the arrangements we made today. I want the menu exactly as Annie described.”
“Absolutely.”
“And Annie will be available for the tea. Perhaps she could be persuaded to wear a long, blond wig so she will look exactly like Princess Annabella and preside over the reception.”
“Of course she will,” Mariah said.
“It goes without saying that she’ll be well compensated.” Melinda Messing beamed.
“I . . . um . . .” Annie could not do this. She could not agree to do something she knew that she would not be able to do. “I will not—”
“Mind wearing a wig,” Mariah finished for her and shot her a please-do-this-for-me expression. “Right, Annie?”
“If Annie doesn’t participate, it’s a deal breaker,” Melinda Messing said in the petulant tone of someone accustomed to getting her way.
“Right,” she said with a sinking heart and promised, “I will host your daughter’s wedding tea.”
But it was all a lie. By next April, she would be living in Dubinstein with Teddy, most likely pregnant with their first child.
It fully hit her then. What her future would be like. What she would be leaving behind in Jubilee—the cowboy way of life, the friends she’d made, this job she loved.
Brady.
Annie’s chest tightened. What had she gotten herself into? She should have kept her mouth shut, never revealed her knowledge of tea. Honestly, she hadn’t thought this far ahead. Her trip was to have been a lark. She had not expected to fall in love with these people. This town.
She would not be the only one suffering for her little adventure. When the truth came out, Chandler and Strawn would lose their jobs. Mariah would probably lose the Messing wedding. Everyone who’d befriended her in Jubilee would feel shocked, bewildered, betrayed.
It was only then that Annie understood the full consequences of what she’d done and she was deeply ashamed. She was going to have to break the news to everyone, and the sooner the better.
But how?
Plagued by misgivings, Annie had almost forgotten about Brady and his problems until Mariah dropped her off at the cabin and she spied him sitting on the front porch rocking chair.
The minute their eyes met, she knew his problems were much bigger than hers.
She moved up the steps toward him.
He got to his feet, his movement setting the chair to rocking. His shoulders were slumped as if supporting the weight of the world, and half-closed lids hooded his eyes.
“You look as if you could use a hug,” she said.
“I wouldn’t say no to the offer.”
She wrapped her arms around him, pressed her head to his chest. He smoothed her hair with his hand and they stood on the porch listening to the beating of each other’s hearts and the cooing of the doves in the cottonwood trees. He smelled of horses and sunshine and hay. A smell she’d quickly grown to love.
“How did it go?” she murmured.
“It went.”
“Meaning?”
“I’m awaiting the results of the paternity test.”
“How do you feel?”
His body stiffened in her embrace. “I’m pretty much trying not to feel anything until there’s something to feel about.”
Annie nodded. “I suppose that’s the best policy.”
He untangled her arms from around him and stepped back to sit in the rocking chair, pulling her along with him. She ended up in his lap, his firm thigh muscles taut against her buttocks. Gently, he set the chair to rocking.
She told him about Melinda Messing and the Victorian tea. “She thinks I look like Princess Annabella,” she said, carefully testing the waters. She was going to have to tell Brady the truth sometime, but she had two more beautiful weeks left before she had to return to Monesta in time for her own wedding. Did she really want to cut that short by telling too much, too soo
n?
The longer you let it go on, the harder it’s going to be.
Yes, yes, she knew that.
“But you’re not going to be here come spring, are you?” he asked.
“I can’t.”
“That secret of yours again.”
“Yes.” The impulse to confide in Brady pushed at her, but if she told him now they would never make love. Never consummate the thrill ride of their attraction.
It’s too late. Far too late for that and you know it. She had to leave. There was no question of being able to stay. Yet the thought of leaving without fully knowing him in the physical sense was too much to bear.
So when he tilted her head back and started kissing her, Annie did not resist. Resisting him was useless. His life force was too strong, her need for him devastating.
She kissed him back with every bit of passion she had inside her.
If you make love to him, it is just going to be that much harder to leave.
But she knew deep down inside that no matter what she did, she was not getting out of this unscathed. She broke the kiss, pulled back. “Brady, there’s something I have to tell you.”
Concern darkened his eyes. “Your secret?”
“Yes.”
His entire body tensed. “What is it, Buttercup?”
She moistened her lips. “I . . .”
Before she could go on, he placed an index finger over her lips. “Wait. Shh. If it’s bad news, let’s just let it lie for now. We’ve got a great weekend coming up. It’s Joe and Mariah’s Fourth of July party and it very well could be my last weekend as a childless man. If it can wait, Monday is soon enough to kick over that rock and dig around in each other’s secrets.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Let’s just keep our mouths shut and enjoy each other’s company for a few more days. This might be the last good time we ever have together.”
“All right,” she whispered, because this was exactly what she wanted too. “All right.”
Chapter Fourteen
You might be a princess if . . . when you kiss Prince Charming fireworks go off.
After their talk on the porch, Brady withdrew, claiming he was too exhausted to be good company, and spent the night in his trailer along with Trampas. Annie had to admit she was relieved. If he had stayed, she knew they would make love. Suddenly, the thing she wanted most seemed just out of reach and she was too afraid to grasp for it, because she feared it would come up dust in her hands.
All day on Saturday, they both helped Joe and Mariah and the ranch hands set up for the Fourth of July bash on Sunday.
When had she become so adept at deception? All she’d ever wanted was a bit of an adventure. A chance to taste life as an ordinary person. A vacation, if you will, from her royal duties.
But with dawn had come the start of a new day and a change of attitude. Annie couldn’t wait to experience this all-American event—fireworks, delicious food cooked on the grill, and time spent in or around water. Her time left was short, so she made up her mind to be happy and take things as they came. Today, she was going to enjoy herself. Monday was soon enough for problems.
The guests started arriving at Mariah and Joe’s house around noon. Annie wore a dress she borrowed from Mariah, since she never got around to spending her paycheck on a new dress of her own. Not with everything else that had happened. It was nice though. Borrowing clothes. It made her feel ordinary.
The dress was pink and made her stand out with her black hair. She’d had to dye it again last week when the blond started peeping through. The dress had cap sleeves, a fitted bodice, and a soft flowy shirt that twirled around her thighs when she walked. She did not miss the hot look in Brady’s eyes when she swirled into the room.
Soon the house was full and Annie met so many people she couldn’t keep them straight. The party trailed out the back door to the patio and pool area. Cooling fans and open-air tents had been set up to keep the guests comfortable and shaded from the Texas heat. Country-and-western music rocked from the sound system. The grill was smoking, the smell of mesquite in the air.
Kids were already jumping into the pool, splashing and thrashing about. Cordy and Ila played lifeguards, sitting poolside, stealing kisses now and again. Lissette was in the shallow end of the pool, holding her son in her lap. Prissy and Paul lay in hammocks on the far side of the yard. Joe and Brady had gone off somewhere. Probably talking about horses.
“Did you bring a swimming suit?” Mariah asked, hoisting a tray full of cut vegetables.
“No,” Annie said. She’d never swum in public. There was a pool at the palace and the family owned a secluded beach. Even though she wanted to go in and cool off, she felt shy about exposing so much bare skin in front of strangers.
“I’ve got a bikini you can borrow if you want to take a dip.”
“You are too generous.”
“Nonsense. I know what’s it like to be broke and the new kid on the block.”
Annie did not quite understand the idiom, but she got the gist of it. “Maybe later. Could I help you with something?”
“Grab that fruit platter from the fridge, thanks.”
Annie retrieved the fruit platter and trailed after Mariah as she took the appetizers to the patio.
“I noticed you’re not spending much time with Brady. Is something wrong?” Mariah bumped aside an empty patio chair with her hip and settled the vegetable tray on the table along with the other food that guests had brought.
“No, no.” Annie forced a smile. She wasn’t going to mention the baby. It wasn’t her place. “Everything’s fine.”
“I am so happy you two found each other.” Mariah plunked down in the chair, pulled out another one for Annie. “Sit, sit.”
Annie put the fruit platter beside the vegetable tray and sat down beside Mariah. They chatted for a while and eventually Annie relaxed.
Joe and Brady joined them in the backyard, bringing in slabs of meat like hunters and slapping it on the grill. They cooked and played with the children. From time to time, Brady would glance over and catch Annie’s eye and smile. He was in the same frame of mind as she. He’d decided to make the best of their day. Enjoy the moment. He was good at that. He had taught her a lot in their short time together.
Without being asked, he brought her a glass of iced tea and leaned down to kiss the side of her neck briefly before trailing off again to jump into the pool to play with the kids. The spot on her neck tingled. The brand of his lips lingering.
Annie took a sip of tea and watched him through half-closed eyes. This was happiness. Being with friends. Cooking out. Enjoying a holiday. A languidness seeped over her. She felt dizzy with the joy of the moment. Just for today, everything was perfect.
It felt as if she’d stepped into the pages of a book or into the reel of a movie. Her version of Roman Holiday. Annabella’s Texas Holiday. So simple and lighthearted. For now. She felt soft and the world shone sweet and pink like a peach blossom.
She rolled the happiness around on her tongue. It tasted like iced tea with lemon and sugar. Summer in Texas, Mariah told her, meant sweet iced tea. She was drinking summer, sipping Texas, ingesting holiday magic. She pushed aside the melancholia waiting in the wings like a velvet curtain ready to fall at the end of a play. For now, she was onstage.
The day wore on. They ate. They drank. Toasts were made. Finally, Mariah persuaded Annie to come into the pool. She donned Mariah’s red and white polka dot bikini and she splashed with the kids, lighthearted and happy.
Brady and Joe were sitting poolside in white lawn chairs. The kids were trying to get Annie to dive from the board. She stood, dripping wet, at the end of the board, trying to decide if it was something she really wanted to do or not.
“Jump, jump, jump,” chanted the kids.
“Look at her,” Brady said to Joe. “Annie has the mannerisms of English royalty.”
Annie’s cheeks heated at the overheard conversation, and just
to prove she was as ordinary as everyone else, she ran and jumped off the diving board into the circle of cheering children. She hit the water with a loud smack and came to the surface just in time to hear Joe laugh.
“Right,” Joe said. “A belly-flopping English princess.”
Brady dived into the pool then and they all played Marco Polo. During the game, his eyes kept straying to Annie’s.
As the sun edged toward the horizon, Annie got out of the pool, slipped into one of the cabanas, and changed back into her pink dress. She wore matching sandals today, something else borrowed from Mariah, instead of her cowboy boots. When she stepped from the cabana, there stood Brady looking darkly handsome in faded Wranglers and a white short-sleeved shirt, his damp hair swept back off his forehead and smelling of Texas summer.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hello,” she whispered, looking into the face she had quickly come to cherish. She had no right to fall for him, but fairness didn’t factor into her feelings.
Mothers were getting their kids out of the pool for watermelon, apple pie, and ice cream that Ruby was serving for dessert. Joe and Cordy and Paul had gone out into the pasture to get ready for the fireworks display. Cordy belonged to the volunteer fire department and he’d brought a water truck into the field, just to be on the safe side.
“C’mon.” Brady held out his hand.
She took it.
He put an index finger to his lips. “Shh.”
Annie struggled not to giggle. “What is it?”
“We’re going to slip off.”
“We are not going to watch the fireworks show?”
“Buttercup, where we’re going you’ll be able to see the whole sky without craning your neck and besides, we’ll be making some fireworks of our own.”
Annie’s heart skipped a beat. Ever since he’d found out he might have fathered a child, Brady had not mentioned sex. But now here he was, leading her away in the gathering darkness, leaving their friends behind.
He guided her around the back of the house, crouching down, still holding on to her hand and keeping his index finger over his mouth as they dodged from car to car trying to remain out of sight of the men in the field and the women and children in the backyard.
