A Fool's Gold Wedding

by Susan Mallery

  But there was something about her, he thought. Something about her energy. He was a big believer in people having a life force that defined who they were. A strong life force could make the difference in a touch-and-go surgery. He knew the patients who had something to live for were more likely to defy the odds. Abby was full of zest and radiated a happy, positive attitude that drew him in and, oddly enough, relaxed him.

  “During the Mayan civilization, a group of women broke free and headed north. They called themselves the Máa-zib, which roughly translates to ‘little man.’” She grinned at him. “Little as in few. Not small. No one’s casting aspersions.”

  “Then I won’t feel judged.”

  She laughed. “They headed north and settled here. Back in the day, men were brought in to, ah, get the tribe members pregnant, then sent on their way.”

  “Women have been using men for sex for generations,” he said with a sigh. “We endure as best we can.”

  “Oh, please. Anyway, that went on for a few hundred years, but eventually the women started letting the men stay.”

  “Lucky us.”

  “Anyone would have been lucky to live with the Máa-zib. Anyway, something happened. No one knows if they went somewhere else, or died out or just allowed other people in, but the tribe disappeared. By the time of the gold rush, the area was unsettled. Fool’s Gold was reborn a gold-mining town and it’s been around ever since.”

  She stopped and turned back to face the hotel. “Ronan’s Lodge was originally a house, built by a man for his one true love. At the time it was called Ronan’s Folly.” They continued walking again. “There’s an old abandoned gold mine outside of town. Don’t go there. It’s really dangerous. Otherwise, we’re very welcoming. We have mountains and vineyards and lots of interesting businesses.”

  She was easy to be with, he thought as she chattered on about the town. Normally he struggled with what he was supposed to say to people. Work was fine, but anything social left him feeling awkward and uncomfortable. But with Abby, he seemed to know what to say next. An unexpected phenomenon. Perhaps it wasn’t her at all—perhaps it was simply the strangeness of the place or his hope for his mission. Regardless, he was grateful not to feel awkward and tongue-tied.

  “A lot of the businesses in town are owned or run by women. It’s kind of fun. There’s a PR firm called Score. There are four owners. Three of them are former football players, but the one really in charge is Taryn Whittaker. They could all snap her like a twig, and yet she keeps them in line. We’re going there.”

  She pointed across the street toward the fire station on the corner.

  He followed her past large, gleaming fire trucks parked facing out, ready to go at a moment’s notice. Abby greeted all the firefighters as she walked inside and headed for a small office.

  Joaquin trailed after her, nodding as he went. He appreciated that she didn’t bother introducing him to everyone. He was unlikely to see these people again, so why make the effort. Plus, small talk was always so fraught. He inevitably said the wrong thing or asked the wrong question. People were unbelievably sensitive about that sort of thing and the end result was he retreated so as not to be a bother.

  The woman behind the desk was tall and broad-shouldered. Capable, Joaquin thought, relaxing in the presence of someone who knew what she was doing.

  “Hey, Charlie.”

  Charlie smiled. “I’ve been waiting for you to stop by. I’m glad to get this off my desk. I’ve felt as if I had a homework assignment.”

  “You did.” Abby grinned. “I was prepared to use my stern voice if you weren’t done.” She turned to Joaquin. “Charlie, this is Joaquin Kincaid. He’s Davis’s brother.”

  Charlie rose and shook hands. “The mysterious, missing brother. Good to meet you.”

  He nodded, rather than speak. He was many things but mysterious was not one of them.

  “Joaquin’s in town for a few weeks before the wedding. I’m going to make him help me with all sorts of last-minute projects.”

  Charlie looked at her. “You know if you need help, you only have to ask. We could get a work party together in a couple of hours.”

  “Thank you but I have it all under control.” She flashed a smile. “Actually, Melissa and my mom do. I’m just filling in.” She held out her hand.

  Charlie reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a four-by-six index card. “Here you go.”

  Abby took it and scanned the writing on the front. Her eyebrows rose. “You sure you’re comfortable saying this at the wedding?”

  “Oh, please. You think nearly everyone there hasn’t had sex before?”

  Abby grinned. “The percentages are probably high.” She waved the card. “Thank you for this.”

  They hugged briefly.

  “Nice to meet you,” Charlie told him.

  He nodded and followed Abby out of the office and onto the sidewalk.

  “You’re probably wondering what all that was about,” she said. “I’ve been talking to different couples in town—people Melissa knows. I’m asking them for advice on what makes a good marriage. I’m printing out what they tell me on big cue cards. Then during the reception, everyone will read from their cards. I think it’s going to be a fun surprise.”

  “Very creative,” he said. “What did Charlie say?”

  She glanced down. “Go to bed angry. Nobody fights well when they’re tired. Make up in the morning, then have sex in the shower.”

  He blinked. “She’s going to say that at the reception?”

  “Apparently.” She looked at him. “You know the best part? I have a card from her husband. His advice is to not go to bed angry.” She giggled. “A lot of the couples are giving really interesting advice. It’s going to be fun.”

  She tucked the card into her handbag. “Charlie’s husband, Clay, used to be a butt model.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “In the movies and in magazine ads and stuff, he was a butt model. Apparently he has a great naked butt. I never saw it in person, of course. Just in pictures.”

  She wasn’t making sense. “That woman we just talked to is married to a butt model?”

  “Uh-huh. Clay’s retired now. While I would love the idea of having a butt that great, I think it would be really strange to have people focused on just one body part. Unless it paid really well. Then I might be able to deal with it.”

  “What is your actual career?”

  “I’m an elementary school teacher.” Her eyes brightened. “I have my certification and I’ve done a year of student teaching and in September I get my very first class right here in Fool’s Gold. I’m excited and terrified. I want to be the best, you know? Teachers have a huge impact on kids’ lives. I hope I’m good enough.”

  A teacher. He could see it. Her energy, her bubbly personality. “They’re going to be very fond of you.”

  “Not just fond but very fond?”

  He recognized the teasing in her voice. As a rule, people didn’t tease him—he wasn’t the type. He’d always wanted to be teased—in a kind way, of course. And here it was. How unexpected.

  He smiled at her. “Extremely fond.”

  “Well, then, I feel better now.”

  * * *

  “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?” Abby said later that evening when she called her sister.

  “What was I thinking about what?”

  “Joaquin. You could have warned me that he was so gorgeous.”

  “You think he’s good-looking?”

  Abby flopped back on her bed and rolled her eyes. “And you don’t? I know you’re madly in love with Davis, but come on. Joaquin is seriously hot.”

  “If you say so.” A smile entered Melissa’s voice. “Is this your way of saying being with him isn’t quite as awful as you’d thought?”

  Abby chuckled. “It’s difficult, but
I’m managing.” She sat up. “Actually, he’s nice. Funny and easy to be with. I thought he’d be all stuffy and smart, but he’s not. Okay, he’s smart, but in a good way. I showed him around town and stuff.”

  “And stuff? What does that mean?”

  “Nothing. But he’s nice.”

  “How nice?”

  Abby rolled her eyes. “It’s been one day. I thought he would be a troll and he’s not.”

  “Apparently he’s quite the hunk. Who knew? Abby and Joaquin sitting in a tree.”

  “I’m hanging up on you now,” Abby said with a laugh. “Goodbye.”

  “Bye.”

  * * *

  ABBY TOLD HERSELF that the fluttery feeling in her stomach was because of the extra cinnamon roll she’d had at breakfast and not because she was looking forward to seeing Joaquin again. Yes, he’d been unexpectedly attractive and she’d liked spending time with him, but that was only because she’d been expecting something so much worse. He really hadn’t been all that—he’d just been better than expected. Today she would see that he was ordinary and that she felt nothing and that she had to let the cinnamon roll thing go.

  She marched up to his hotel room door and knocked briskly. He opened it and smiled at her.

  “Abby!”

  And there it was. A quick kick in the gut that told her he was just as wow as she remembered.

  “Hi. So I have some craft projects I really need to get done in the next couple of days. You’re welcome to join me, but if the thought of that makes you want to run screaming into the night, I’ll totally understand.”

  He stepped out into the hallway and closed the bedroom door. “I’ve never done crafts. I’m looking forward to learning about the process.”

  She felt her mouth drop open. “What? Everyone’s done crafts. You had to, in school or something.”

  “Not me. I didn’t go to that kind of school.”

  “What kind did you go to?”

  “I was tutored from the time I was about three, then I went to a private school with an accelerated program. I was in college by the time I was ten.” One shoulder rose and lowered. “No crafts there. I’ve seen people do them in hospital waiting rooms.”

  Sadness gave her a little bump in the heart. While she appreciated that he was brilliant and all, what kind of life had he been living? Had there been any time for fun or friends or just being a kid? Only asking those questions seemed judgy and a little rude, so she just nodded.

  “Makes sense. I promise, in the next couple of weeks, we will get you proficient in the world of crafts.”

  “Thank you.”

  They headed out of the hotel and started toward her old neighborhood.

  “Did you grow up here?” he asked.

  “Uh-huh. Born and raised. Right now I’m staying with my folks. I move into my own apartment on September first. It’s going to be fun, but strange, you know? I’ve always lived at home or in a dorm or with friends. But it will just be me.”

  “Worried about being lonely?”

  “Not really. I have a lot of friends and my parents will be three miles away.” She looked at him. “You’ve been on your own since you were a kid.”

  “It was easier for everyone.”

  “Were you ever lonely?”

  Something flashed in his eyes and he turned away. “Occasionally. I was always younger than the other students, and something of a freak, as you can imagine.”

  She wanted to tell him he was wrong, only she suspected he had a very clear view of his past.

  “It must be better now that you’re older,” she said.

  “It helps.” He flashed her a smile. “At least the white coat fits.”

  Yes and she would guess it looked pretty darned good on him.

  “Where did you go to college?” she asked.

  “Stanford for undergrad. I did some advanced studies in Oxford before attending Johns Hopkins Medical School. What about you?”

  “I, ah, went to UCLA, then did my student teaching in the San Fernando Valley. Not, you know, impressive by comparison.”

  He stopped and smiled at her. “Abby, you are incredibly impressive just as you are.”

  Really? Really? She smiled. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Tell me about your parents.”

  An easy topic, she thought happily. “They’re great. Ethan, my dad, is the oldest of six kids. He runs a wind turbine company outside of town. My mom is Liz Sutton.” She paused.

  Joaquin looked at her blankly. “Should I know the name?”

  “I wondered if you would recognize it. She’s a famous mystery writer. She’s supersuccessful and you can’t ever mess with her because she so knows how to hide a body.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll remember that.”

  “You should.”

  They turned into the quiet neighborhood where she and her folks had lived for the past decade.

  “They’re really good people. My biological mom died when I was little and my dad passed away a few years ago.” He’d died of cancer, in prison. Something Abby didn’t feel any need to go into. “Liz and Ethan adopted me and Melissa when I was eleven and she was fourteen. They have a son together—Tyler. He’s my age. He’s in Europe right now, with his friends. He’ll be back for the wedding, then he’s going to Washington, DC, where he’ll be an intern with the senior senator from California. Now that I think about it, I’m the only one of my siblings to stay in Fool’s Gold. I’m just that kind of girl.”

  “You went to UCLA. That’s not close.”

  She smiled. “I went because they made me leave. Otherwise, I would have gone to college right here.”

  She paused in front of the familiar big house. It looked like a happy place, she thought, with well-kept gardens and lots of windows. There were plenty of bedrooms and a huge dining room for family gatherings.

  “This is it. My mom has a separate office off the garage. It meant we could invite friends over and make as much noise as we wanted, but she was always close.”

  Joaquin looked at her, then at the house. “Sounds idyllic.”

  “It was just a regular kind of childhood.” Something he hadn’t had, she reminded herself. “Do you ever wish you’d been different than you are, which I guess means being ordinary?”

  “Not often, but I wonder what it would have been like to not be so unusual. Only I wouldn’t give up what I do.”

  “I think if you have to be born different, being smart isn’t so bad.”

  “I agree.”

  They walked into the house. Abby tried to see it as Joaquin would, but everything was too familiar. She knew what it felt like to sit on the sofa and where they put the big Christmas tree every year.

  He looked around, glancing up at the high ceilings and peering at the huge dining room.

  “It’s nice.”

  “Thanks. The rec room is back here. That’s where all the craft magic happens.”

  She led the way to the kitchen where she planned on grabbing drinks and snacks. Her mom was there, making tea.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Abby.” Liz smiled warmly. Her gaze moved to Joaquin. “Ah, the mysterious Dr. Kincaid, I presume. We have you in our clutches at last.”

  Joaquin moved toward her, his hand outstretched. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You, too. Welcome to Fool’s Gold. How are you liking our little town?”

  “It’s very appealing.”

  “We like it.” Liz checked the teapot on the counter, then replaced the lid. “The words are not flowing well today and I’ve run out of excuses to avoid my office. Unless you need my help with something?”

  Abby ignored her hopeful tone. “Mom, go. You know you’ll feel better once you start writing. Joaquin and I are going to finish the place cards and start on the birdseed holders.”
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  “You have all the fun. I have to figure out why my serial killer wants to do in a perfectly nice botanist.” She gave Abby a brief hug, then picked up her tea. “Good to meet you, Joaquin. Let me know if you need anything.”

  He nodded.

  Liz walked out of the kitchen. Joaquin turned to Abby.

  “That was about the writing, right?”

  Abby laughed. “Yes. I promise you my mother isn’t going to kill anyone in real life. She’s very sweet. So I was thinking iced tea and cookies to keep up our energy. Or do you only eat vegan?”

  “No vegan,” he said with a smile.

  She did her best to ignore the faint fluttering sensation in her belly. What was it about that man? she wondered. Her reaction was so confusing.

  They went downstairs to what had been the playroom and was now kind of a catch-all craft-storage-junk space. There were a couple of long tables and folding chairs and a storage unit full of craft supplies.

  Abby set out their snacks on one table and directed Joaquin to the other.

  “There are two main projects,” she told him. “The place cards. I was hoping to finish them a couple of days ago, but got distracted.” By the thought of him blowing into her world, she reminded herself. If only she’d known it wasn’t going to be difficult duty at all.

  She showed him the stack of finished cards. “It’s pretty simple, if a little tedious. Just glue on the bead flowers. You can see the design on the completed cards. You’ll need tweezers. Just put a little glue on a paper plate and use a toothpick to cover the back of the beads.” She hesitated. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  They were standing unexpectedly close, she thought as she stared into his dark blue eyes. She wasn’t sure when that had happened, not that she was complaining. Joaquin was nice to look at and he was much less crabby and annoying than she’d first thought. In fact, he was fun to be around.

  He gave her a slow smile. “I’m sure. I showed up with little warning, disrupting your schedule. The least I can do is earn my keep.”