by Britney King
“To the kitchen,” I say, taking the sleeve of his shirt. “Now.”
He follows me, Ashley follows him, and the door hasn’t even slammed shut before I lay into him.
“What in the fuck was that about?” I grab a bag of frozen peas from the freezer and toss it onto the table. “Never mind. I’m not sure I want to know.”
“That little prick grabbed my fiancée’s ass. What did he expect was going to happen?”
“Your who?”
Ashley Parker holds out her left hand. “We were going to tell you.”
“You hardly know her.”
“Ruth.” He holds up one hand. It’s covered in blood that isn’t his. “Not now, okay?”
“We’re going to have to refund them their money.”
“I’m sure we can work something out,” Ashley says. “I mean, if we explain what happened—”
“There is no we,” I say, crossing the kitchen. “In fact, this is all your fault.”
“Ruth!” Davis bangs his fist on the table. “That’s enough.”
“This is the last thing our family needs.”
Johnny walks through the kitchen doors. He’s flanked by Cole.
“He put his hands on her.” Davis pleads his case before the question has even been asked. “What was I supposed to do?”
“He’s drunk,” I say. “Like half the people here.”
Davis shakes his head. “You know, for a woman, you’re really something, Ruth. Like that’s some kind of excuse.”
“Did you have to go and beat the shit out of him?” Cole asks, coming to my aid. “In the middle of his sister’s wedding?”
“You could have waited,” Johnny agrees. “At least until they’d cut the cake.”
“They’re staying here tonight,” I say. “The whole family. The kid included.”
Davis shakes his head. “He’s not a kid.”
“He’s my age,” Ashley interjects.
“He called her a whore. Grabbed her ass and called her a whore. All because she refused a second dance.” Davis slides a chair across the floor and takes a seat. “Forgive me for not keeping his drink filled and giving him the special turndown service before sending him on his merry way.”
“What’s the special turndown service?” Ashley asks, glancing around the room.
I brace myself, gripping the edge of the counter. “Seriously? This is the best you could do?”
“That’s enough, Ruth.” Johnny glares at me. “Go speak to the family. Let me handle the rest.”
I throw my hands up. “What am I supposed to say?”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
Cole swings the kitchen door open and motions for me to follow him. “Come on, I’ll go with you.”
When I dig my heels in, he walks over, takes me by the hand and leads me through the house, deftly weaving around guests. When we reach the front porch, he pulls me to the side and lowers his voice. “What the hell has gotten into Davis?”
“He’s engaged.”
Cole’s brows rise. “Wow.”
“I know.”
“Don’t worry. It’ll work itself out.”
“It’s not the only thing. What am I supposed to say to these people?”
“The truth.”
“What? That their son allegedly said something inappropriate to Ashley, and then my brother lost his shit?”
“Just say you’re sorry, Ruth. Start there. The rest will come.”
“This is the last thing my family needs,” I say, my eyes searching his. “What am I going to do?”
He places his hands on my shoulders and looks at me with enough conviction that I almost believe him when he says, “You’re going to do what you always do. You’re going to fix it.”
Later, I apologize to the bride and groom, and she sort of laughs me off. “My brother is an ass. Even more so when he drinks.”
“Mine too.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much,” she tells me. “My parents are furious at him. It’s not the first time something like this has happened. Danny can’t handle not being the center of attention.”
“Anyway,” her husband says, “it’ll make a good story for the grandkids.”
Chapter Fourteen
Passerby
It’s not hard to get the bastard down to the beach. All I have to do is promise him something. Like a carrot dangling from a stick, the lure of something he wants, and that’s that. Weak morals and all, but then, most people are easily swayed when they think something is about to turn out in their favor.
So, easy-peasy, I get him to meet me down at the beach, or at least who he thinks is me. There are three things you should always keep a secret: your love life, your income, and your next move. Once you lose your mystery, you can’t get it back. As the saying goes, sincerity is glass, discretion is diamond.
That’s what I told him anyway, in the note I left beside his bed. I added a few Xs and a few Os, and from then on, it was pretty much a done deal.
Our little night swim. Our secret rendezvous under the stars.
It sounds lovely. But it wasn’t all fun and games. It takes an incredible amount of strength to hold a person under the water against their will.
Thankfully, not nearly as much to entice them to get sloppy drunk first.
If you can manage that, the rest is easy.
I did. And it was.
Chapter Fifteen
Ruth
Mama always said you can talk about anything if you do it in the right way. Daddy always said, if you can’t beat ‘em, you might as well join ‘em. I’m beginning to think there’s something to that. It was especially clear in the way the guests interacted with Ashley Parker tonight. I may not be her biggest fan. But I’ll say one thing, she’s good for business.
During the reception, I landed two bookings. Both for large events, and surprisingly one of them came after my brother’s outburst.
“She brings fresh blood to this town,” Georgia Adkins said. “I like her.” This was right before she booked her annual lady’s retreat at Magnolia House. Usually, she books the fancy resort on the bay, just out of town. She says there’s more room to spread out. This time, she said she wanted to stick a little closer to home and that it was Ashley who’d convinced her. She appreciates her positivity. She thinks Jester Falls could sure use a dose of that, but I think what she really meant was me. I could use a little of that charm. And who knows? If it’s that easy to earn bookings, I may just give it a shot.
Ashley finds me as I’m cleaning up outside. The reception has ended, the bride and groom have retreated to their suite, and the rest of the family is hanging out in the parlor. “Ruth?” she calls out.
She says it as though I frighten her, as though I may bite. I finish clearing beer bottles from a table. Then I glance over my shoulder, brows raised. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?”
“Do you have a second?”
I scoop trash into an open bin, so I don’t answer right off. I’m expecting that she’ll notice the cleanup job I have in front of me. It will be several hours before I get to sit down and rest my weary feet. It’s naïve of me to think that Ashley will notice anything outside of her immediate needs, because not only does she go on, she doesn’t bother lifting a finger to help. “I wanted to apologize,” she says. “For what happened with Davis.”
I clear a second table and move on to the next. She does not give up. She stays tight on my trail. “I know you don’t like me, Ruth. And I just want to say… I’m sorry about whatever I might have done to make you feel this way.”
It’s hard to imagine, looking at her now, the way she is groveling about, that just an hour or so ago, people were beside themselves trying to get next to her. It was fascinating to watch, albeit rather annoying, the way she drew them to her like a magnet. Effortlessly, like she was the sun, and we were all just orbiting around her. It was really something to see. The men, of course, were particularly mesmerized, although with looks like
hers, that was to be expected. The women, though. Well, that was surprising for Jester Falls. To say they typically aren’t welcoming is not an exaggeration. They’re polite, yes. This is a tourist town, after all. But it’s not an easy in with the locals. This is a tight-knit community. They don’t allow just anyone into their inner circles, and even when they do, they don’t exactly embrace them with open arms. There’s a bit of proving oneself that has to take place. There’s a trial phase, and then you’re either in or you’re out. And trust me, you don’t want to be out. Not if you have to stick around. It reminds me of my sorority days; it’s what pledging was like.
The women in this town, well, socially, they never really mature much beyond that.
So when Ashley comes to me with an apology, fake as it may be, I decide to accept it. Perhaps there is something to be learned here. I don’t know what that something is, but I feel the lesson the way you sense a thunderstorm is on the horizon. It’s in the air. Change is coming, and I’ve got to hang on for the ride.
She backs up against the table so that she’s between me and the job I’m supposed to be doing. She clears her throat. “I know you haven’t particularly taken to me, but I was hoping we could be friends.”
It’s pitiful the way she looks at me. Not even the little brat next door was this pathetic. The most irritating thing about it all is not only is she keeping me from finishing my job, it’s that Ashley Parker does not need me to like her. Everyone else has already placed their vote.
“I mean…” She flashes a shy smile. “We are going to be sisters soon enough.”
“That’s right,” I say, as though I am just remembering their engagement. “About that? When does school start back? You have to return…when…after Labor Day?”
“September, yes. But Davey and I have been talking, and I’m not sure I’m going to be going back.”
And there it is. The thunderstorm I felt coming.
“I was thinking, actually, that maybe I could help out around here.”
“And what would you do?” My question is meant to be sarcastic, because she’s literally standing around chit-chatting while sweat drips from my brow. But she doesn’t see it. I doubt Ashley Parker has ever seen a hard day’s work.
“What would I do? Oh, I don’t know,” she tells me with a shrug. “Anything you need me to, I guess. Wouldn’t it be nice for you to have a break? Perhaps you could focus on something else for a while. Davey and I could step up to the plate and handle things for a bit.”
“Or—maybe my brother could go back with you. He’s always talked about getting out of Jester Falls…he really has no interest in managing the day to day stuff around here. He never has.”
Her face twists in a way that says she’s skeptical. “You might be surprised.”
I finish filling the trash bag I’m holding and then go in search of the box that contains the rest of them. Ashley follows me like a lost puppy. When I spot the box, I grab two bags, toss one at her, and say, “I forgot, where did you say you’re from?”
“New Orleans.”
“Ah, that’s right.” I motion toward the bag in her hand and the tables that are still left to clean.
She takes a deep breath in and then slowly lets it out. It’s as though she’s rehearsing in her mind what to say next. “I know you’re angry at Davey over what happened tonight. And I know he feels terrible, even if he won’t admit it. But you didn’t hear the things that guy said to me. Terrible things. I realize now that I should have let it go… Sticks and stones will break my bones and all. But still.”
“Still what?”
For a split-second, she looks taken aback. Her hand flies to her chest where red splotches have crept up, and I realize her tell when she’s angry. “You know what I think?”
I shrug. “I asked, didn’t I?”
“I think someone really needs to break that guy’s bones. I think he deserved every bit of what Davey gave him and more. I mean, maybe what happened tonight will keep him from doing the same thing to another girl, and you know, even if it’s only just one—well, I’ll sleep better knowing.”
Chapter Sixteen
Ruth
I don’t mean to do it. I mean, yeah, sure, I obviously got into my car and drove the eight miles it takes to reach his house. Even so, I did not plan on doing it. Some things you just can’t help, and the occasional slip-up where Cole Wheeler is concerned seems to be a weakness I can’t shake.
Cole lives in a log cabin at the end of a long dirt road on property that was once owned by his great-grandfather. It was farm land back then, that for a long time hadn’t been tended to. When it was passed down to Cole, he cleaned it up and built the cabin with his own two hands.
I stand at the door for a second, and then I take a seat on the porch swing. Cole will have heard me come up the long gravel drive, and also, I can’t bring myself to knock. When the door finally opens and the porch light flips on, he steps out and looks at me, almost like he isn’t surprised. He is shirtless, and behind him all the lights in the cabin are turned down.
For a moment I feel stupid, like maybe there is someone else here, someone who’s already beaten me to the punch of warming Cole’s bed. It wouldn’t surprise me. It could just as easily be Gina from the paper, or any one of his regulars. Regulars he pretends he doesn’t have. Cole may be discreet, but the rest of this town likes to talk.
He pushes the door open fully, reaches out, and beckons me in. I exhale a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
I’ve come for sex, and he knows this, but there’s something else. Something more. I need someone to talk to. Someone who will understand. Someone who will tell me the truth.
That’s the deal, even if it’s unspoken. I get a friendly ear, and he gets laid.
“Wanna drink?” he asks, but that’s not why I’m here, so I say I haven’t got the time.
He seems in no hurry, which is pretty much Cole in a nutshell. He’s never been in a hurry for anything, not in all his life, and I don’t think that’s about to change now. His place is neat and tidy. He doesn’t own much, unless you count a lot of dusty old paperbacks. I scan one of the stacks near the fireplace. Heinlein, Levin, Orwell, Burgess, and lots of H.G. Wells. Cole’s always been sort of a cowboy at heart with the brains to back it up. “Do you actually read these or are you just using ‘em to keep the fire going?”
“It gets lonely out here.”
“I’m sure it does.” I pull several from the stack and study the covers. “Which is your favorite?”
“It’s hard to choose just one. I like them all.”
“I bet you do.” His gaze makes me feel uncomfortable, like the room has suddenly grown ten times hotter. “But gun to your head—if you had to choose?”
He walks over and looks over what I have in my hand. “This one,” he says. “The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress.”
“Can I borrow it?”
“No.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“I thought you’d do anything for me.”
“That’s not the same thing as giving you anything.”
“Isn’t it?”
Cole gives me a look. It’s the same one he always gives when he’s had enough conversation. He’s a man of few words and has been since we were kids. I watch him closely as he puts on music, the usual old country songs that make me long for simpler times. “Do you play this for all your women?”
“Just you, Ruth Channing,” he tells me in a way that almost makes me believe him.
“It’s the melancholy, isn’t it?”
“Come,” he says, reaching for my hand. “Dance with me.”
And so I do.
Chapter Seventeen
Passerby
The wind in my hair, the spray on my face, it’s really something. It feels like fast cars and freedom. Only different because I’m on a boat. I push down on the throttle, wondering if I should ease up some. I’m not really looking to draw attention to myself, an
d boating accidents are quite common. I looked it up just to be sure.
I slow a little, mostly because I don’t know the game warden situation around here, but if I had to guess, I’d bet it’s like most things in this town, fairly lame.
After bringing the boat to a standstill, I sit and listen. I take out my reel and my ice chest, putting both within eyesight, even though it’s dark out. The sun is still an hour or so from rising, and it’s peaceful out here on the water, but that could change in an instant. I may not be looking for company, but it’s important to be prepared should any arrive.
To be completely honest, I’m only looking for one person, a big fish in a small pond. And as luck would have it, like many people in this town, Bobby Holt is an avid fisherman. Turns out, every Saturday morning he gets up before the crack of dawn and heads out. Sometimes as early as 4:00 a.m.
Who knew I had it in me, too?
I’m learning so much.
Everything is happening exactly as it should.
New hobbies can be fun.
All I had to do was to bide my time and wait. And now, here I am.
And here he comes. The man I’m looking for.
A chance encounter. A meeting of two minds.
They’ll find his boat empty and his body in the water.
Eventually.
I’ll be long gone by that time. Probably off having coffee, smiling, and waiting for the story to break. I doubt it will take long. It’s a small town and news travels fast.
Thankfully.
Chapter Eighteen
Ruth
I’m up early, on account that we have a full house and there’s a lot to do before the wedding party’s departure. Breakfast is being catered before the big farewell send-off for the bride and groom, and it’s my job to see that everything is in order.
