by Elsie Davis
“I’m a private person when it comes to finances, and trust me, most people don’t understand what drives me, and I don’t like to be judged. I had enough of that growing up.” Becky wasn’t sure why he said what he did by way of explanation, but it was a start, and she had no intention of steering clear of the subject if he was in share mode.
“Your father doesn’t sound like a very nice man.” She glanced at him, trying to gauge his reaction.
“He’s not.” Steve grimaced, as though thinking of the past pained him.
The horses had fallen into a steady pace, walking side by side, an occasional snort as though they too were having a conversation. “I thought you two were getting along pretty well yesterday at the diner.”
“It was business.” Unlike most people, Steve didn’t have to like his father to do business with him. Exactly what she’d been afraid of.
Another crisp and final answer designed to close the subject. Seemed there were a few subjects they had to tiptoe around. “How did your plans work out last night? You didn’t actually say what you were doing.” She’d been more than a little curious but afraid to be too inquisitive.
“My mother had a dinner party to show off her son. It was boring and nothing you would have enjoyed. People are talking in town about us already, and I think she was hoping to meet you. I thought I’d give you a little more time to get adjusted before that happened.” He grinned.
Good call. “Thank you. I would have been way too nervous.” Even if she had the entire year to prepare, she would still be nervous. But then she had good reason for not wanting to get too close to Steve’s parents.
They’d fallen behind Kayla and Byron, enough for Becky to ask the question that had been weighing heavy on her mind. “While they’re out of earshot, I need to ask you something. This marriage deal we are planning on, how do you propose it’s going to work after we’re married? I mean, I’m sure you’re not planning on staying in Riverbend. And then there’s your election coming up soon. When are you heading back to Houston?”
Steve shrugged. “I thought I’d stick around for a couple more days and then head home. I was hoping you and Byron would visit on weekends. We can announce the engagement soon and start planning the wedding. The distance can be the catalyst to get married sooner. Then we can get Byron transferred to a Houston school close to my apartment. You can get a job there if you want, or not. The choice is up to you.”
Transfer to Houston. It was the first she heard about this part of the deal. “I don’t recall agreeing to move anywhere.”
“You don’t sound like you’re happy with the plan.” Steve’s gaze sharpened, his brow drawing tight in confusion.
“I’m not. It would have been nice if we’d talked it out because then you would have found out I’m not willing to leave Riverbend. I’m not pulling my son out of school and away from his friends for some fake marriage. And I’m not going to live off you like a parasite for a year, and I’m not giving up my job. It’s not just me your plan affects, it’s Byron, my mother, and my sister.”
“I didn’t think you wouldn’t want to move with me to Houston. You said you always wanted to live in the city. I thought you’d jump at the opportunity. It would seem I was wrong about you.” He frowned.
“If you win the election, you’re tied to Houston, but I’m tied to Riverbend either way. This is my home. And you’re right, once upon a time, I dreamed of leaving, but the town has been loving and supportive toward Byron and me, and I’ve come to realize this is where I belong. A town where people know your name and help one another. People who truly care.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I’m not sure this is going to work.”
“We’ll figure something out.” He shrugged again as if the details were insignificant. “Even if it’s a weekend-only marriage, we’ll make it work. We have to.”
It might be for the best, anyway. Spending quality time with Steve was easy but not something she wanted to get so used to. It would only make it harder for her and Byron to give it all up when the marriage ended.
Chapter Nine
Steve had told Harry about Becky, but he hadn’t bothered to let the man know what was really happening, preferring to keep the arrangement more private. The fewer people who knew the truth, the better. For his campaign manager, it was all about the poll numbers, and it was not surprising he’d been the one to leak the information to the media.
Harry kept pushing him to stay in Riverbend, but Steve had to keep up with his job at the same time. Spending the weekends with her and Byron would be enough to make the relationship look real when he suddenly popped the question.
It was all about image, and the Riverbend festival tonight was the perfect opportunity to promote the image of them as a couple. Not that they hadn’t had plenty of curious gawkers at church this morning. It had been the first time he’d been inside a church that he could remember. Something else his parents had never done. But for Becky, he’d agreed when she asked. The surprise, however, had been the calmness and peace he felt as he listened to the sermon on forgiveness, which had touched his heart in ways he hadn’t expected.
But tonight was a different matter entirely. He wanted to spend time with Becky and Byron, dancing and laughing, the draw for a different taste of life beguiling. His world was all law and business meetings and courtrooms. Somber. Serious. Boring. No fun.
It would be cooler after sunset, the night air dropping as much as ten to fifteen degrees in temperature. He pulled a tan sweater over his blue dress shirt and stepped back to check out his new outfit in the mirror. New boots and a cable-knit sweater to wear with his jeans would be a whole lot less businesslike. He was grateful to be able to find what he needed with little effort at the Farm Supply shop in town and wasn’t forced to drive back to the city. Satisfied with the look and appreciative of the comfort, he turned to leave. On second thought, the boots might take a little longer to call comfort, the stiffness of the leather not giving much as he walked, but they’d have to do.
He drove to Becky’s place, anxious to see her again. Pulling up to the curb, he slid out of the car, determined to meet her at the front door and make it a proper date. It was time to meet her mother. The door opened as he drew near, and the two of them came outside, just like before.
Becky didn’t understand that he didn’t care what the house looked like, only the people inside. As she stepped off the porch, Steve stopped to appreciate the picture they presented. Mother and son. Becky wore a pretty blue-and-white gingham dress that stopped above her knees and showed off her gorgeous legs. The blue of her cardigan highlighted her eyes and the twinkle of excitement he’d noticed. Her hair was in a bun, but blonde curls interlaced with blue ribbons framed her face, softening the look. He hoped her look of excitement was because they were going on another date and that at least some of her emotion was genuine.
Byron, on the other hand, was dressed much the same as Steve was, except with a navy blue sweater. He looked handsome standing next to his mother, his hair perfectly groomed, the same eager look in his eyes.
“Good evening. Nice night for a dance.” He leaned forward and pulled Becky in for a brief hug, dropping a light kiss on her cheek. He felt her stiffen. They both knew they needed to progress the dating look to anyone watching, and he was relieved when she hadn’t stopped him. But her resistance stung more than a little.
“It is, isn’t it? Byron’s been so excited.” Becky pulled back, wrapping her arms around her midsection.
“Hey, Mr. Steve, we’re dressed alike.”
“That was the first thing I noticed.” Steve shot Becky a wink. They both knew Byron hadn’t come first in his appraisal. “Guess I did right picking out my new duds.”
“You’re kidding! You had to buy new clothes for the festival?” Becky smiled and shook her head.
“The sweater and boots, yes.” He laughed. “Not much call for sweaters at the
office.”
“What’s with the blue shirts, anyway? It’s the only color you ever wear.”
“Blue goes with all my ties. Simplifies everything.” He wasn’t about to get into the idea the power image he was trying to create as a professional dictated his choices, or that the deep-seated reason he wanted everything organized and orderly in his life stemmed from his father’s dictatorial parenting style.
“If you say so.” She leaned in toward him. “But when we get married, I expect something different once in a while, like a white one. To spruce things up a bit if you know what I mean.” She smirked. “Make it special.”
He took the car seat from Becky. “Whatever makes the old lady happy.” Steve flashed her a grin and was rewarded with a playful hit to his shoulder. At the truck, he opened the passenger door and let Becky install the seat before he helped Byron up inside. Becky climbed in, careful to keep the skirt of her dress from riding up, but not before Steve got a little extra glimpse of leg and a whiff of sweet jasmine. Tonight, he’d be the envy of many a single man at the dance with Becky by his side.
“Look, Mom, look.” He leaned forward to grab Becky by her sweater and tugged. The kid had spotted the Ferris wheel and merry-go-round rides and pointed to them.
“I see. Looks like big fun.” She looked back at her son, love in her gaze.
Steve shook his head and smiled. The pure, unadulterated joy of a child was catchy, and he found himself watching the boy in the rearview mirror, loving the wide variety of expressions that crossed his face as they parked.
Becky held Byron’s hand, but the kid tried to pull away, wanting to run ahead in an effort to expedite his way to the fun. “Come on, guys.”
“There’s plenty of time. I think we should eat first, kiddo. What do you say?” Becky looked at Steve for confirmation, but Byron had his own opinion on the subject matter.
“Nawww. Play first, please,” he begged.
Becky shrugged. “Okay, three fun things and then we eat. Deal?”
“Deal.” Byron was all too ready to agree. Compromise wasn’t something Steve remembered when he was a kid. With the Judge, it was always his way or the highway. Or it was until his father took the highway himself.
“Where to first, Byron?” If Steve was doing the picking, he knew which one he would have picked first. The Ferris wheel.
Byron thought about it long and hard, suddenly smiling. “The Ferris wheel.”
“And why is that?” Steve doubted it was the same reasons he had as a child. Curiosity made him ask.
“I like to go high and dream of flying. Someday, I want to be a pilot and fly everywhere.”
“Big dreams, kiddo. I like it. Maybe one day you’ll fly me where I want to go. That would be cool.” Byron’s reason wasn’t too far off from his own but was way more uplifting.
“You really think I could?” Byron stopped to look up at him, his eyes wide with the question.
“Of course, you can. You can do anything you want to if you work at it hard enough.” Just like he’d done and was still doing. His focus had been to help those less fortunate, and after years of hard work, it was about to pay off.
“Do you hear that, Mom? Mr. Steve said I could be a pilot.”
“Yes, honey, and I agree. Let’s head for the Ferris wheel and let you pretend you’re already soaring high above the clouds. All three of us can fit, and maybe you could tell us what you see up there.”
“Yes!” Byron ran ahead to mark their place in line.
“You don’t mind, do you?” Becky asked.
“Not at all. Ferris wheels were my favorite when I was a kid. I can’t wait to see if that’s changed.” He smiled, more than a little caught up in Byron’s excitement and the idea of spending time going on the ride, with Becky closely tucked in by his side.
“Why was it your favorite?” Becky placed her hand on his arm, increasing the closeness between them.
He found himself wanting to share more with her. “It was the one ride that took me high enough to see far, far away. I always dreamed of leaving Riverbend.”
“Sounds like we had that in common. But life doesn’t always go as planned. I’m glad you got to leave, and your dream is in sight. It must be an amazing feeling.”
“Surprisingly, it’s been somewhat anti-climactic so far. I fully expect the high to hit me soon, or maybe it will happen after the election. Did you stay because of Byron?”
Becky stiffened beside him, her answer slow in coming. It was clearly a sore subject for her, but he wanted to understand what happened, especially given the circumstances and his deep suspicion of who Byron’s father was.
“I got pregnant, and his father wanted no part of raising a family. I did what I needed to do to keep my son, and that meant giving up silly dreams and becoming a responsible, working parent. I don’t regret anything I gave up. Byron is my life, and I’d do anything for him.” Her voice radiated with warmth as she spoke of Byron.
“I can see that. He’s a lucky boy to have you as his mother.”
“Thank you. That’s a very sweet compliment.”
He glanced up to where Byron stood in line waiting for them, waving his arm as he gestured for them to hurry up.
Steve took Becky by the arm to get her to stop for a moment, not wanting Byron or anyone else to hear his next question. Becky couldn’t evade his answer forever if he had anything to do about it.
She looked up at him, her brow furrowed. “What is it?”
“I know when we first talked, you didn’t want to tell me about Byron’s father. I have a strong suspicion it’s Jack and would love for you to confirm or deny it.”
“It doesn’t matter who he is. Byron’s father made his choice, and I’m okay with it.” A shuttered look came over her face.
“But what about the father’s family? Don’t they have the right to know? The right to decide if they want to help you financially or not?” His family. Him. They had a right to know Byron, whether Jack wanted them to or not.
Becky stiffened, the line of his questioning clearly pushing her too hard. “No. It’s…it’s not Jack, so you don’t need to worry about it. Jack and I were friends. End of discussion.” Either she was lying, or he’d been wrong. His gut told him the former. But questioning her any more now would only make things worse.
“Okay. I’m sorry. I only want to help. I hope you can see that. Don’t forget, I’ll soon be your husband.” He winked, hoping to put a smile back on her face.
“Don’t remind me.”
Ouch. The only saving grace to her comment was the slight curling of her lips as she fought back a smile. Steve hadn’t missed her slip of the tongue. Were friends. Not are friends, as in currently friends, but past tense. Even more reason to suspect Jack was the father. And if it was Jack, she stood to gain financially and socially, so why lie? If she was lying, she was giving up the birthright of her son, not to mention, his nephew. The legal side of his brain wanted answers, but the social side said to let it go and have fun with her and her son. At least for the moment.
During the ride, Byron painted them a fairy-tale picture of his version of flying, his story filled with imagination. Steve could almost see the birds flying with the plane and the angels on the wings carrying the plane and its passengers to safety. Byron was such a sweet boy, one he would be proud to call family. It was shocking to realize he, the man who put career above all else, meant every word. But then, being a fantastic uncle would be like being a grandparent. Mostly pros and few cons. Grandparents were there to have fun with until they needed to get back to business and return the child to their parents. Or parent, in this case.
“So, what did you think? Is it still your favorite?” Becky glanced up at him, her sweet smile melting a region of his heart immune to emotion. Her eyelashes fluttered as she blinked, waiting on his answer.
“It was good. Not t
he same, mind you. Suddenly, things aren’t so far away.” He joked, knowing she’d understand. Growing up had a way of changing someone’s perspective. It was the first time he could remember being on a Ferris wheel that he wasn’t planning his escape out of Riverbend. Instead, thanks to Byron, he’d flown around the country in a magical world. Personally, he liked Byron’s version better.
They did a couple more rides as promised before Becky announced it was time to eat, and surprisingly, Byron didn’t argue. The kid must have worked up an appetite.
After standing in line and placing their orders, Becky found them a picnic table, and he waited for the food. He carried back a tray piled high with some of the festival favorites—chili, BBQ ribs, corn on the cob, fried green tomatoes, and fried okra. One of his personal favorites.
There was enough food to feed them and several others, the portions overwhelming. Not like what he saw in upscale nouvelle cuisine restaurants in Houston. He shook his head, getting full just looking at all the food. But not enough to say no to the delicious aromas wafting his way.
“Oh my, that looks amazing.” Becky smiled and reached to help remove the food from the tray, placing it all in the middle, family-style. She laid out the paper plates and plastic utensils while he passed out loads of napkins to each of them.
“Can I have a rib and some corn, please?” Byron asked. “I love corn.”
“If you’re not careful, you’re going to turn into a piece of corn.” Becky laughed and ruffled his hair. She picked up his plate and placed a rib and half an ear of corn on it, adding a helping of okra. “Do you want some chili?”
“No thanks. You know what they say, beans, beans, they’re good for your heart, the more you eat—”
“That’s enough, young man. A simple yes or no will do.” Becky fought back a grin.
“No, thanks. But it’s true. And I don’t want to fart.” Byron had the good graces to look perfectly innocent as he said the word.
Becky couldn’t hold back the grin any more than she could stop from bursting out with laughter. “You’re hopeless,” she added, shaking her head.
