Catherine shook her head. “It’s not my doing, Evan. Tabby’s work speaks for itself, and very eloquently.” She looked at Joseph. “I turned down a six figure offer for Tabby’s painting of Joseph just this morning.”
Surprised chuckles rippled around the room, then grew louder as Joseph blushed. Tabby squeezed his hand. “There is no price for that painting. It will hang in our home, wherever that might be, for as long as I live.”
They arrived at the club, and two white-jacketed attendants hustled out to park the cars. Joseph stuck to Tabby’s side like glue. All of the glitter had completely overwhelmed her, and her stomach twisted in knots. She watched Stoner with amazed curiosity, seeing a side of him completely new to her, though it must be the norm for everyone else. In his tux, he appeared urbane and sophisticated. He radiated power and confidence, and Evan was no different. Catherine and Jenny both looked poised and sophisticated.
Tabby blinked, and that flash of being the poor, hick relation suddenly choked her. “Joseph,” she whispered in a panic. “I don’t belong here.”
He touched her cheek with his fingers and kissed her lightly on the lips. “You have no idea how right you look. It’s the perfect backdrop for you, and I am so proud to stand at your side.”
He squeezed her hand. Tabby relaxed a bit, but the feeling that something was out of place persisted.
They stood inside the doorway to the club in a large front hallway that was plushly carpeted, walls lined with wood paneling and boasting a large stone fireplace at one end. Already some members of the press gathered, toting equipment in through a back entrance so they could set up around the lectern positioned in front of the fireplace. At an angle to one side was Tabby’s self-portrait entitled “Scars.”
Stoner stepped up behind her and touched her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Tabby. We’ll keep you out of the limelight as much as possible, though you have such an incredible talent it will be harder and harder to do as you become better known.”
Tabby glanced at Joseph, who nodded. She turned to Stoner and said, “You’re the first to know, other than Joseph. As I watched the preparations for tonight, and saw how my work might benefit others, I made my decision about teaching, Daddy. I won’t go back. There are many reasons, but I believe I’m meant to use my gift to paint more than to teach.”
“I’m proud of you, honey.” Stoner kissed her cheek, scowling after a flash went off.
“Good evening, Senator.” A lean photographer with one earring dangling from his ear grinned as he stuck his head out from behind his camera.
“God, I should have known.” But Stoner grinned back even as his words dripped sarcasm. “I guess I should be happy you decided to wear a tux, Mac.” He stuck his hand out, and the shorter man grasped it in a firm handshake.
“Blending, Senator, like a chameleon. You should try it some time. Did you bring a watchdog with you?”
Stoner nodded to Sam. “The big guy, looks like a pit bull only not as friendly. I heard he came out of the womb that way.”
“Daddy!” Tabitha whispered. “Sam is so nice. Remember, he was the one who came up with the fundraiser idea.”
Now she had the photographer’s attention. “Really? You must be Tabitha, the long lost daughter.”
Joseph’s arm tightened, and for the first time that she could remember, Tabby saw his expression harden. Stoner apparently wore the same look.
“Whoa!” Mac held his hands up. “I know. I know. She’s not talking to the press. I’m on my way. I’ll go talk to the Rottweiler with the marshmallow filling. “
Stoner frowned thoughtfully. “Perhaps you should go into the main room. It’s only going to get more crowded with journalists here. Just imagine sharks around chum, and you’ll get the general idea.”
Joseph nodded, keeping his arm securely around Tabby’s waist. “Let’s find you a spot to sit down, Tabby. It’s going to be a long evening.”
“Joseph, I’m overwhelmed. Stoner, Catherine, and Evan… They’re all used to this, but I’m not. I feel like I’ll do or say something wrong, not to the press, but to their friends.”
Joseph’s blue eyes twinkled. “Tabby, does the Stoner you’ve known for the past two weeks care what anyone thinks?”
“No.”
“Exactly. And how many of these friends have kept in touch with him since he was sentenced?”
“None that I know of except maybe Sam, which seems funny because they always act like they hate each other.”
“Darling, you can do nothing wrong in your father’s eyes. Nothing would ever cause him to turn his back on you. I think you’ll find plenty of people here just like you and me.” Joseph paused and smiled at her. “Besides, in the eyes of the Lord, we’re all equal.”
Tabby smiled. “The Lord might feel differently if he had to wear a tux. Help me into the main room. I want to show you my surprise.”
She held his arm securely and pointed him to a painting that was still draped. It stood right behind a table that was also draped. Tabby’s smile was mischievous as she sat in a chair next to them. “Go ahead, take a look under the cover while everyone’s occupied with the press conference.”
Joe looked, smiling as he glanced back over his shoulder. “You finished it. Does he know?”
Tabby shook her head. “Check out the table.” After he peeked under the cloth, Tabby grinned. “Peterson sneaked them out late this afternoon and set them up for me.”
“You think he’ll be okay with everyone seeing his woodwork?”
She smiled. “He will once he hears the reactions. I’m telling you, Joseph, his work is as brilliant in wood as you all seem to think mine is in paint. It’s incredibly complex, and he’s only enhanced it with his finish. It’s a beautiful table.”
The press conference ended as the brunt of the guests began to arrive. Catherine and Stoner stood in the ballroom area. Tabby sat in a nearby chair with Joseph perched casually on the arm. Evan and Jenny hovered, talking to Jake and Holly. To anyone who didn’t know them, it would have appeared to be a casual arrangement, but as soon as anyone from the media came anywhere in the vicinity, the circle tightened and shut Tabby off from curious eyes.
Outside that protective circle, Tabby watched Sam casually sipping a ginger ale. He was frowning, not unusual for him, but this evening she sensed his anger was directed at them. As she wondered about that, Sam’s focus suddenly shifted toward the room’s side entrance.
A young woman had come through the doorway there. In a room of tuxes and silks, this woman stood out. Her black, lace-up platform boots ended just below the knee, but there was still a long expanse of bare, slender thighs visible before her black leather skirt began. It was belted tightly around her hips, well below her navel. Her arms were bare except for a dozen bangle bracelets glittering silver in the muted light. Around her neck, she wore a black leather collar. Her makeup was dark, throwing her pale skin into relief.
Tabby’s eyes widened. She tugged on her father’s sleeve.
“Who is that?”
As soon as Stoner and Evan saw the woman, they abruptly set their drinks aside and moved to intercept her. Sam had done the same. Tabby frowned.
“Sammy!” The woman slurred a bit as she spoke. “I came all the way from St. Thomas to meet my new sister. Where is the new golden child?”
It was Erin. Tabby’s heart clenched. No one appeared happy to see her.
“Daddy and Evan,” Erin slurred and giggled again as they closed in on her. “I wanna see my new baby sister.”
Stoner’s broad shoulders were stiff. “How dare you, Erin,” he growled in an undertone that Tabby still managed to hear. “God almighty, even if you hate me, don’t you have some respect for your mother? Or yourself? You’re shit-faced…hell, make that stoned.”
Sam stood next to her while Evan shielded her from the rest of the room.
“I’m glad to see you too, Daddy. What’s it been now? Five years? No big open-armed we
lcome? No big party like the new kid?” She stared at Evan, weaving slightly on the high heels that still left the top of her head below his shoulder. “Hey, Evvie! Remember me? Oh, probably not—especially now that you have the new Richardson clone. Can I meet her?”
“No!” Stoner snapped. “Not here. Not now. Not when you’re in this condition.”
Sam stepped up and took her arm. “I’ll take her home, Senator, and come back.”
Tabby rose to her feet. It was time to meet her sister.
“Come with me Joseph.” She needed his support, physically and emotionally.
“Put her in the guesthouse. I don’t want her around Melodie in this condition,” Stoner said as Tabby and Joseph reached them. Catherine and Jenny were close behind.
Erin’s bloodshot blue-gray eyes narrowed. “Afraid I might contaminate something?”
Stoner’s barely controlled temper was evident in his clenching jaw.
“Is this Erin?” Tabby asked. As Tabby reached tentatively with her uninjured arm to touch her sister’s hand, her gaze met Erin’s and she finally noticed Erin’s bloodshot eyes.
Erin stared at her; then her gaze shifted from Evan to Jenny and back to Tabby.
“Oh my God, Daddy! You screwed Jenny’s mother?”
Stoner raised his hand. It shocked Tabby because it sure looked as if he’d been about to slap her before he dropped his hand to his side. Sam covered Erin’s mouth with one hand and effectively blocked Stoner with his own big frame, which was also odd. Sam scooped Erin’s struggling figure up in his other arm and began removing her from the clubhouse.
Chapter 15
Tabby looked from Evan’s expressionless face to Stoner’s angry one. “Evan…Daddy?” Anger, frustration, and grief twisted their expressions. “What’s wrong with her?”
Jenny put her arm around Tabby’s waist. “She was stoned, honey. High.”
Evan cleared his throat. “Sam will get her settled in the guesthouse. We can all talk tomorrow. Tonight is for you Tabby.”
Stoner blinked. His strong face was pale and a little haunted looking. Tabby saw the sadness and touched his arm. She would help him now, and they could deal with Erin later. Evan was right. “Help me into the other room, Daddy. I have something to show you.” He smiled, and if his fine gray eyes were just a little too bright and a touch sad, Tabby chose to ignore it, softly returning his smile.
“What do you have to show me, honey?” he rumbled.
“It’s a surprise.”
As they entered the main room, Catherine signaled for everyone’s attention as Tabby made her way painstakingly to the covered portrait and the cloaked table. When they stopped next to the draped painting, Catherine joined them and looked up at the gathered guests. “Tabby has decided to unveil a portrait here tonight that she just finished. She calls it ‘The Artist.’”
Tabby smiled nervously, then removed the cloth. It was the painting of Stoner working intently on the occasional table. The painting focused on both his intense expression and the elegance of his hands as he worked with such tiny detail. Applause vibrated around the room, but it was Stoner who Tabby watched. He swallowed a couple of times, pressed his lips together, and hugged her as tightly as he could without hurting her shoulder.
“It’s beautiful,” he murmured for her ears alone.
She kissed him on the cheek and leaned back. “It’s you. The Stoner I know.”
Catherine had Evan call for quiet again, and she smiled at her husband. “Tabby also had me sneak out the table pictured in the painting. Stoner just finished it, and she felt like everyone should see what she called the true artistry. Evan, if you would be so kind.”
When the table was unveiled, those nearest gasped. The wood glowed rich and warm, a backdrop that made the geometric pattern of the inlay leap off the smooth surface.
“Good God, Dad.” Evan was among those clearly astounded. “It’s gorgeous!”
Echoes of that same sentiment spread throughout the room, in addition to amazement that Stoner Richardson was its creator. Tabby smiled at him. She was so proud of him, but it was difficult not to laugh because he was so stunned by the praise he received.
* * * *
Joe noticed Sam seemed particularly silent when he came back, but on all other counts, the evening was a success. While Evan drove home, Tabby leaned against Joseph tiredly. He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead.
“Easy, Preacher,” Stoner said from the front seat, as if he had eyes in the back of his head. “You still have two weeks before you put a wedding ring on her finger, but I think between your engagement, your meeting with the church council, and tonight’s showing, we’ve managed to allay everyone’s desire to tar and feather Tabby and defrock you.”
Tabby smiled at Joe, who enjoyed the way she seemed to fit so comfortably into his side. “It was a wonderful evening.”
“There’s one more thing for you to deal with,” Sam growled from the seat behind Tabby and Joe.
Erin.
Joe knew Tabby wanted to know more about her, wanted to find out why she seemed so lost, and why everyone else seemed not to know what to do around her. However, they soon realized Erin had disappeared.
Stoner read the note Erin had left and crumpled it in his fist. “Damn her!” he muttered. “God! She’s self-destructing, and I don’t even know where she is to try to stop her.”
“We can start at the truck stop,” Sam said. “Your car needs to be picked up anyway.”
Stoner looked at his watch. “It’s been two hours since you dropped her here.” He shook his head. “She’s long gone by now.”
Sam looked at Stoner levelly. “Your car still needs to be picked up. I’ll go.”
Joe spoke up. “I’ll run you out there. I need to head into town anyway to get ready for services tomorrow.”
Sam nodded. “Thanks, Joe. I’ll bring your car back, Stoner, and try to find out something.”
Stoner nodded, his face somber. “Thanks, Sam.”
Sam’s tension was almost a living thing as they drove toward the interstate. Other than their poker games, Sam Barnes kept to himself, even when he showed up in church. So it had surprised Joe tonight when Sam was the first one to recognize Erin, the first one to intervene, and he had noticed, even if no one else had, the way the big man had put himself between father and daughter.
“Erin seems troubled,” Joe said quietly.
Sam snorted. “You’re being way too kind, Preacher. Completely screwed up might be more accurate.” Sam’s hand clenched on his knee. “Erin’s issues could fill a book. I don’t think we have time to get into them.”
“You’ve known her for a while then?”
“I saw her for the first time when she was nine. She broke her arm sliding down a waterfall on my farm. She’s been nothing but trouble since.”
They reached the truck stop. The Cadillac was in the parking lot. Joe waited for Sam until he returned with the keys. Leaning down into the window, Sam said, “The keys were right where she said they’d be. I also spoke to a trucker who said he saw her hop a ride with a southbound driver.”
“She’s long gone by now, then.”
Sam’s eyes turned toward the interstate, his mouth a thin line. “Yeah. I’ll let the Richardsons know. Thanks for the ride, Preacher.”
* * * *
Tabby wished it was different, but Erin’s shadow hung over them. Catherine sent her e-mail, wanting to know that she had made it back to the Virgin Islands okay and inviting her to the wedding. Erin replied she was fine but wouldn’t make the wedding because they would be in the middle of a two-week island-hopping trip. Tabby wasn’t sure that was the truth, but it was a convenient way out of having to come home again.
Stoner shut himself in his wood shop for a few days. When he finally emerged, it was as if he had simply shaken off a bad mood and decided to move on.
Tabby observed it all, her concern deepening. They had put Erin in a
neat little compartment, locked the door, and shut her out of their lives. If Tabby had discovered nothing else from her own experience and Melodie’s, it was that family secrets refused to stay hidden. She seriously doubted they had seen or heard the last of Erin. And why should they? She was family.
A shiver snaked down her spine. Tabby still had her own family out there somewhere. Tommy MacVie might not be blood kin, but he was still a threat. She needed to talk to Joseph about it.
The showing and the long lost daughter angle of her story made national headlines. Stoner, the handsome former senator gone bad, was always good grist for the journalistic mill. There was even a story the following weekend on a nationally syndicated magazine show. But what concerned Tabby most of all was the discussion of child abuse. There was no way to avoid it. Even though she had never named Tommy MacVie, those who’d known them in Asheville would know. Her name was a matter of public record. There’d been no way to keep that private. The one thing Tabby remembered all too well about Tommy MacVie—he always exacted his revenge.
Tabby continued to work on the painting of Richardson Homestead. She had lost her helper, though. Melodie had returned to school, and Tabby was feeling a little bit lonely during the day. Catherine and Stoner finished preparations for the wedding and reception Saturday. Joe was busy with calls. Even though they had decided to postpone a real honeymoon until Tabby was completely healed, he was trying to get things cleared off his calendar so he could take a few days off after the wedding.
Tabby paused with the brush in hand and smiled. She had worked hard with the physical therapist, who was extremely pleased with her progress. She could now walk on her own, though she used a cane some of the time to keep from overdoing it, and they were going to take her out of the shoulder immobilizer the following day so she could begin therapy. Jarrett Campbell had flown in over the weekend and had grinned at her.
“You’re a remarkable young woman, Tabby, and your recovery is nothing short of amazing.” He paused. “You’re getting married next weekend, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
Lost & Found Love Page 24
