Bittersweet Creek (24 page)

Julian

A
ll I could think while watching Dr. Winterbourne work on Little Ann was that it could've been Romy. If Curtis would shoot an innocent dog just for being mine, what would he do to Romy? Hell, we were probably lucky Curtis couldn't see because he'd probably been aiming for heart or head. As it was, Little Ann would have to stay with Dr. Winterbourne and would probably lose a leg.

When we finally made it back to the house, I showered. Blood rolled off my arms and chest and disappeared down the drain. Romy sat waiting for me on the edge of the bed, and I had to force myself to look at her.

If I were smart, I would've pushed her away.

If I were stronger, I would've pushed her away.

Instead, I pulled her close, and we had sex born of worry and sadness. Afterward, I rolled over on my back and she laid her head on my chest.

“I don't want you to get hurt,” I said.

“I'm a big girl,” she said sleepily.

“Seriously, Romy,” I said as I stroked her head. “This is the sort of shit I've been afraid of. Even if you're right about me, I can't always be around to protect you from him.”

She lifted herself on one elbow. “Julian, there's a huge difference between shooting a dog and shooting a person. Not even Curtis would stoop to murder.”

I didn't say that out loud, though. Maybe because I didn't want to believe it. I pointed to a manila envelope on my dresser. “We can still get divorced. Ben drew up the papers and everything.”

She smacked me repeatedly. “Julian McElroy, don't you even joke about it!”

“Hey, now! You're the one who asked me.”

“Well, I can take care of those papers,” she said as she tried to wriggle out of bed. Instead I clamped her to me and kissed her soundly.

“I don't want to get rid of you,” I said. “I never want to be rid of you.”

“That's good because I'm planning to, as Elvis would say, stick like glue,” she said with a grin. She knew I'd been known to sing a Presley song or two on karaoke night when three sheets to the wind.

I frowned. “But you know he's dangerous, right?”

“Elvis? Is he still alive?”

I tickled her for being a smart-ass, but we both sobered when I stopped. “You know what I mean. Curtis. He's dangerous.”

She shivered, no doubt thinking about poor Little Ann. “He has a few screws loose.”

“Promise me you won't go traipsing around the farm by yourself.”
Where did that come from?

“What?”

“Promise me you won't be out alone,” I said. I had that bad feeling in my gut like Curtis wouldn't be content with shooting the sweet dog I'd been trying so hard to ignore. People like him must've been the reason God first said an eye for an eye. He'd lost two dogs. I'd lost one. That wasn't going to be enough for him.

“What is up with you men today? I'm a grown woman.”

She tried to wiggle away, but I wouldn't let her. “Promise me.”

She sighed deeply. “You and your promises. Fine. I promise I won't go
traipsing
around alone. I'll have a lady's maid with me
at all times
since my father has also made me promise to apprise him of my whereabouts
at all times
and to have my phone on
at all times
. There. Are all of the men in my life satisfied I'm not sneaking off to some kind of female supremacy meeting?”

“Totally,” I said as I cupped her breast. Her ragged breath gratified me beyond belief. “I can't get enough of you.”

“Feeling's mutual,” she said as she grabbed a little lower.

And that was enough to forget Curtis for at least a little while.

Romy

T
his time Hank didn't say a word when I came through the back door with the day's first rays of sunlight. For a fleeting moment I wondered if he'd subject me to having Delilah sleep over or insist I drive him over to her house for the evening. I pushed that thought from my mind and vowed to spend the rest of my nights at home. We might all be adults now, but he was still my daddy and I was still his little girl.

“Making up for lost time?” Daddy said from behind a safe curtain of newspaper.

“Maybe I am. Had breakfast yet?”

“Just a banana and some orange juice.”

I took my spot at the stove to scramble eggs and toast some bread under the broiler. When I put a plate in front of him he grunted his thanks. “ 'Bout time to take this damned cast off,” he said.

I looked over at the calendar to see the date circled in red really was only a couple of days away.

“Then what are you going to do?” I took a bite of toast, reveling in the homemade strawberry preserves, then wondering if Delilah had been the one to make them.

“Not a lot. Doc said the leg would still be weak,” he said.

“But you're not going to sell the cows or the farm?”

“Naw. Called that Marsh fellow last night and told him the place wasn't for sale after all.”

My fork stopped halfway to my mouth. I'd figured Julian's father was mad because he saw me go into Julian's house. What if he was really mad about losing the opportunity to sell the McElroy place?

“What's got you so green around the gills?”

“Curtis McElroy shot Julian's dog not long after I showed up last night.”

“He. Did. What?” That got Hank Satterfield to sit up straighter. “You mean to tell me that crazy sonuvabitch was shooting at the porch of the house where my daughter was staying? I forbid you . . . well, I can't forbid you from doing anything, but I don't like it. I don't like it one bit. He's dangerous.”

“That's what Julian said.”

Daddy snorted. “For once that boy and I agree on something. Don't get tangled up with Curtis McElroy if he's about to go on one of his tears.”

So we all had to wait for the other shoe to drop? “Well, dammit! If he's so dangerous, why hasn't someone done something to stop him?”

Daddy cleared his throat. “That wife of his refuses to press charges. Julian pressed charges once, and he like to have beat them both to death when he got out on bail.”

“Ridiculous,” I muttered under my breath before saying out loud, “He's just a man. Someone needs to stand up to him.”

Daddy put his fork down. “Well, it ain't your job. Let me assure you of that.”

Out the door I went to finish my chores. When I exhaled deeply at finding both Beatrice and Star safely ensconced in the pen, I knew Curtis was getting to us all.

Julian

I
must've changed the oil in about forty different cars, but I couldn't shake the mental image of poor Little Ann. Dr. Winter-bourne had called to say he wasn't able to save the leg, but she'd made it through surgery. I was supposed to pick her up in a couple of days depending on how well she was healing.

I think my eyeballs sweated a bit at the thought of a tripod beagle, but the vet had assured me she'd adapt quickly.

I didn't like that particular line of thought. Now that Romy and I were close to patching things up, I couldn't imagine a world without her. At the thought of her three-a.m. good-bye, I couldn't help but grin like a jackass eating saw briers.

“McElroy! Somebody here to see you.”

“Be there in a second, Leroy.” I grunted as I tightened the oil filter in place then patted the antique Silverado on the side for good measure. A quick look at the clock told me I only had an hour to go.

Just beyond the mesh-and-glass window of the door I saw my dear old dad. And my uncle Charlie.

“You've got a lot of nerve coming here,” I said as I entered the tiny waiting room while wiping grease off my hands with a rag.

Curtis hitched his thumbs behind his overalls. “Deal with Marsh fell through. Hope you're happy.”

Actually, I was.

“So, I need five thousand for the dogs you took off. Now.”

“No.” I turned to go back to work.

Curtis put a beefy paw on my shoulder and wheeled me around. “You'll get me that money. You owe me.”

“I don't owe you shit.”

“Be a shame if something happened to your
wife,
now, wouldn't it.”

Anger flashed behind my eyes. There had to be a hint of fear, too, but I wasn't going to let him see that. Instead, I slapped his hand away and got right into his business. “Don't lay a hand on me or anything else that's mine.”

“Or you'll what?”

“I'll enjoy knowing that farm's waiting for me when I get out of prison, that's what.”

His eyes widened. He needed to be scared. He'd sent his message. Now I'd sent mine.

“Charlie, maybe this isn't the best place to conduct business after all,” he said.

“Believe I told you that from the get-go,” Uncle Charlie griped.

I watched the two of them waddle off. Someone in the corner began to slow clap. That's when I turned to see Goat Cheese. He leaned back and began moving his fingers one over the other as if wishing for a cigarette. “ 'Bout done with my truck?”

“Yes, sir,” I said. “Sorry 'bout that.”

“Gave me a chance to catch up on my
People
magazine,” he said with a shrug and some new juicy gossip to spread. The last thing I needed was for Romy to hear about Curtis threatening me.

“Don't suppose I could ask you to forget that conversation that just took place?”

“What conversation?” he said. “Unless, of course, you ever need me to remember such a conversation in a court of law,” he added, his beady eyes crinkled underneath his ball cap.

Goat Cheese was going to keep a secret? I'd believe that just as soon as I saw it.

Or didn't hear it.

Letting Len know that Curtis had threatened Romy wouldn't be the worst idea. It'd be a fine line, since hauling him in for a restraining order would probably spark retaliation. Still, it'd be good to have something on the record.

And to brush up on my target practice. Maybe make sure Romy had brushed up on hers.

I smiled at Ellery's unlikeliest gossip. If Goat Cheese was willing to keep something to himself, then you knew you were in the right. “You're all right, Go—Mr. Ledbetter.”

“Don't you forget it! Now finish up with my truck. I've got things to do today.”

Dismissed, I went back to retrieve the Chevy. As I lowered the truck, I frowned at the thought of Curtis and Charlie barging in on me. Hank must have officially backed out of selling his place, which meant Curtis was left high and dry.

And desperate.

Romy

“S
till not wearing the rock, huh?”

Genie's question brought me back down to earth and the Calais Café where we'd spent the previous half hour going through the last of my part of the reunion plans: reservations, attendees, and the money they had paid.

“I gave it back,” I said, not able to contain the blush creeping up on my cheekbones.

Genie's mouth hung open, then stretched into a grin. “I know that look! You and Julian are back together!”

“Shh! Not so loud. I don't want to jinx it.”

“Oh, please. That boy's mad about you,” Genie said. “I've never seen anything like it. Ben was telling me the other day that he tried for years to get Julian to do something other than watch movies, drink beer, and mope.”

Again, the sadness of almost ten wasted years sucked a little life out of me. The stupid things we'd both done out of misunderstanding or fear. Even now we had yet to talk about the future.

“Hey! You and Julian have actually been married the longest!” Genie's squeal jarred me back to reality. “I'm going to have to change that award and everything! Boy, isn't Lacey Bolton going to be beside herself. But that's what she gets for waiting until June to get married.”

“She's still married to Chad Anderson?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Genie said as she twirled her straw in her Diet Coke. “I can't believe it, either, but to each their own.”

“And how are things with Ben?”

Her face lit up like an overstrung Christmas tree. “He is so incredible. We went out once in high school, you know.”

“Really?” No, I had not known that. It was hard to picture, too.

“Of course, then we weren't who we are now. He was still trying to fit in with his cousins, and I was still a mousy girl in a trailer. We wouldn't have been able to make it work back then. At least not until we figured out who we really were.”

Her logic held some merit, but, really, what had changed between Julian and me? Even as I asked myself the question, I knew a lot of the answers. He'd been overconfident, often to the point of cocky. I'd been smug and overly sure of my intelligence to the point of disdain for my humble roots. My desire to be with him had warred with my desire to be a rich lawyer and show the world how smart I was. Now I knew money couldn't buy me happiness and that I wasn't half as smart as I'd once thought I was. Did we have to go through what we had in order to live happily with each other without wondering about what the future might've held? After all, the downfall of Romeo and Juliet had been the impatience and impulsiveness of youth.

“You're daydreaming again,” Genie said.

“Oh, sorry. What did you say?”

“I said being a farm girl agrees with you. At first I thought I liked you better with the fancy hair and clothes, but I don't think so. I think you look better now.”

I didn't want to think about my hair. Just as Delilah had suggested, I'd given up on the flat iron weeks ago. My nails were neatly clipped but not entirely back to normal. I had to admit the cutoff denim shorts and the Vanderbilt T-shirt were far more comfortable than the linen capris and button-down blouses Richard preferred.

“You need more coffee?” Genie grabbed her purse. “Despite your sparkling conversation, I'm off to work!”

I slapped a hand on the bill as she slid out of the booth. “Nope, this one's on me. I'm pretty sure I'll have a job teaching English at the junior high just as soon as they finish the paperwork, and I owe you one for being so distracted.”

Genie started to say something but thought better of it when she saw someone at the door.

Shelley Jean.

Genie slid back into the booth and hid behind the menu.

“What are you doing?” I hissed.

“Hoping she'll sit down before she sees me so I can make my getaway,” Genie said between gritted teeth while studying the menu intently.

Shelley Jean took a seat across the restaurant, but Ben Little chose that unfortunate moment to walk in. He surveyed the room and gave Genie a dazzling grin the minute he saw her. All conversation at the farmers' lunch counter stopped as he walked confidently to the booth and slid in beside her. “I was hoping I'd catch you before you left.”

She leaned into the kiss he planted on her cheek, her expression half-thrilled at seeing him and half-resigned that Shelley Jean would see her, too. Sure enough, my cousin and nemesis stomped across the diner.

“There you are, Genie
Dix
.” Shelley Jean put her hands on her hips as she emphasized Genie's maiden name. I resisted the urge to point out that being unmarried was better than having had three unsuccessful marriages. Then again, Shelley Jean had always been a proponent of “It's better to have loved and lost” and “Quantity over quality.”

“Hi, Shelley Jean. I was just on my way out.” Genie wasn't that convincing. Especially not with Ben sitting on the edge and hemming her in.

“I didn't know you were going out with Ben.” Shelley Jean batted her eyes. I rolled mine.

“Do you still need committee members?” she asked sweetly.

“I think we have it covered.” Genie's reply was laced with syrup even though she'd put me through my paces, and I knew she'd done twice as much work as I had.

Shelley Jean put a hand with red claws on Ben's shoulder. He flinched enough to answer my age-old question of whether or not he'd succumbed to Shelley Jean's advances back in her cheerleading days. That answer would be yes, but he wasn't proud of it.

“This man bothering you?” asked our uncle Liston, even though it was clear to anyone with at least one eyeball that Shelley Jean was the one who'd put her hands on Ben. Still, Uncle Liston was from a generation that remembered when there were two water fountains in the courthouse. He chose to forget the “Colored” fountain had always been broken.

Shelley Jean didn't answer fast enough, and the other farmers gathered around Uncle Liston. Ben's eyes met mine, and I knew he was thinking about the afternoon Julian and I came up on all the football players beating him. We never told anyone, and the football players didn't, either. Mainly because they didn't want to admit they'd almost had their asses handed to them by Julian and Ben fighting alone.

“Shelley Jean is fine, and I think she said she was leaving,” I said with a clear voice.

Uncle Liston, my aunt Sandra's husband, wasn't a fan of his brother-in-law nor me by extension. The feeling was mutual.

“Ain't he friends with the McElroys?” he asked with narrowed eyes.

I'd planned to stare him down, but Shelley Jean decided to jump into the fray. “Oh, Uncle Liston, this is Ben Little. He is Julian McElroy's
best
friend. They played football together, remember? Ben made All-State that year Alan almost did.”

She just had to go there, didn't she? Alan was another of our cousins who'd been the second-string running back when we were in high school. Half the Satterfields were convinced Alan would've made All-State—or at least got a scholarship for college ball—if he hadn't been forced to sit out while Ben Little played.

“That so?”

“You know, I think we should all be going,” I said with a tight smile, since Ben was obviously clamping his lips tight to keep from saying what he really felt.

“And I heard you have a McElroy as your second string,” Uncle Liston said. The rest of the overall-clad men behind him laughed.

“He's first string, actually,” I said as I pushed my way past them to get to the cash register. I pretended not to see as Uncle Liston stepped into Ben's way to bump him intentionally. Then I was ashamed for not speaking up for the both of us.

“Those bastards are going to hold that stupid grudge forever,” Ben muttered under his breath.

“The worst part is that Alan sucked anyway,” I said.

Ben's eyes met mine. That wasn't the worst part, and we both knew it.

Genie let out the breath she'd been holding. “Okay. No more meetings at the Calais Café. The reunion committee might have ninety-nine problems, but a bitch ain't gonna be one.”

Both Ben and I grinned at that.

“I'm sorry, Ben,” I said. “They may be family, but they're a bunch of assholes. I'd disown them if I could.”

“It's all right.” He clapped my shoulder as he walked past, seemingly resigned. Genie waved then went to take his arm.

As she looked up at him with clear devotion, I wondered if they would be able to make it work. Would loving each other be enough to make up for the stupid things that sometimes happened in the world? Julian and I had almost been torn apart by such stupidity.

And we weren't out of the woods yet.