Read That Dog Won't Hunt (Dearing Family Series) Online

Authors: Brandilyn Collins

That Dog Won't Hunt (Dearing Family Series) (5 page)

BOOK: That Dog Won't Hunt (Dearing Family Series)
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Laughter burst around the table. Ben chuckled, but it sounded stiff. Mr. Dearing pounded his fist, making his plate jump. Mama Ruth laughed so hard her eyes filled with tears. The sounds washed through Christina but could not clear her lungs.
Jess just crossed her arms.
“Ah, come on.” Tamel poked her shoulder. “You know that’s funny.”
“What I know is it’s not true.”
“Is so.”
“Is not. I’ve
heard
that story before, passed around on the Internet. You go to Snopes, you’ll see it’s made up.”
Tamel’s forehead wrinkled. “Snopes?”
“Snopes.com, where you go to see if some story forwarded in e-mails is true or not.”
Tamel’s jaw dropped. “Snopes is tellin’
my
story?”
“Yes, Tamel.” Jess’s head wagged. “For years now.”
Indignation flattened Tamel’s face. “How can that be? This just happened two weeks ago!”
Jess picked up her glass of sweet tea. “Uh-huh.”
Christina stole a glance at Ben. His eyes flicked to her, then back to Tamel.
Mama Ruth wiped a tear from her eye. “Well, I think it’s true. I’ve never known Tamel to make up stories.”
“Me too,” Lacey declared.
Pogey’s round face was split with a grin. “Whatja do after he told you that, Uncle Tamel?”
Tamel chuckled. “I just backed away real slow, like I didn’t want any part of a ghost rabbit. I did manage to say ‘Sorry for your loss.’”
That sent everyone laughing again. Jess rolled her eyes.
Slowly the table quieted. Silverware clinked. The family turned their attention once again to the food. Christina didn’t want to eat another thing. She picked up her fork and forced down a bite of meat.
Ben drank the last of his tea and set down his empty glass. In a heartbeat Jess was up to refill it. Christina’s eyes tracked her into the kitchen and back, carrying the pitcher. Jess refilled Ben’s glass, then others’. Ben didn’t even say thank you.
The dread in Christina’s stomach deepened. Would he expect her to wait on him like that? Just like she’d had to wait on her father?
“Uh-oh.” Mr. Dearing’s amused voice jerked Christina from her thoughts. She looked up to see him gesturing with his chin toward the doorway into the kitchen. At the threshold close to the floor a little golden snout and one eye peeked around the corner.
“Aw.” Jess made an empathetic sound in her throat. “We’re takin’ too long.”
“What else is new?” Mrs. Dearing laughed.
“Lady Penelope.” Mr. Dearing’s tone pulsed with authority. But there was love in it, too, not meanness. “We’re still eatin’.”
The nose disappeared. From around the corner came a loud and long doggie sigh. Little toenails slowly clicked across the tiled kitchen floor.
Mr. Dearing shook his head at Christina. Could he tell how on the edge she was? “She gets impatient.”
Christina swallowed. She needed to say
something.
“Will she go back to her bed?”
“Yup. But you wait, the minute she hears people gettin’ up, she’ll be out here.”
The rest of the meal blurred. People talked and laughed and ate. Christina put food in her mouth and shoved it down, no longer tasting. Ben felt like a block of ice next to her.
Finally Mrs. Dearing and her three daughters got up to clear the table. Christina rose to help. When they entered the kitchen, bearing plates, Penny bounced out of her bed. Maddy pointed and told her to get back. “We’re not done yet.”
The Yorkie walked away on stiff legs, nose held high, as if to say
”I don’t need you anyway.”
Jess stifled a laugh. “She only puts on that air when there’s people around to see her. When we’re in the dinin’ room it’s the big ol’ sigh. She doesn’t seem to realize we can hear her.”
Jess was trying to be nice. Act like she didn’t see what was going on between Christina and Ben. Christina glanced back into the dining room and caught his eye. He looked away.
Her heart folded over.
Mrs. Dearing pulled two warmed apple pies from the oven. Maddy fetched a large plastic container from the fridge. Whipped cream.
“I’ll make the coffee.” Sarah moved toward the large coffee maker.
“Oh, no, you won’t.” Maddy used a hip to nudge her sister aside.
“But I brought my own grind!”
“You always bring your own, you coffee snob. That doesn’t mean the rest of us want to drink that motor oil.”
“Now, girls.” Mama Ruth spoke mildly, as if she’d heard this argument before.
“
Motor
oil?” Sarah ran a hand through her short brown hair. “I’ll have you know it’s expensive coffee, ground to perfection.”
“It’s not the brand.” Maddy poured water into the machine. “It’s just that you make it so doggone strong.”
Christina leaned against the counter, trying to disappear.
“Oh, humph.” Sarah made a face. “You can put water in yours, but I can’t make mine stronger.”
“So make yourself one of your lattes, and let me make the coffee for everyone else.”
Sarah stuck her hands on her hips. “Fine, then. Think I will.” She looked to Christina. “You like lattes?”
Christina’s nerves pinged. The last thing she needed right now was to be stuck in an argument between Ben’s sisters. She glanced from Sarah to Maddy. “I guess.”
Sarah lowered her chin at the wishy-washy answer. “Do you like lattes, or don’t you?”
Christina swallowed. She glanced around for Mrs. Dearing, but the woman was back in the dining room. Jess stood across the kitchen, watching Christina. “I … yes.”
Sarah shot a satisfied smile at Maddy. “So would you like one tonight? I’ll make you the greatest one you’ve ever had.”
As if her stomach could take another thing—
“Don’t listen to her, Christina.” Jess wagged a finger. “That drink will be so thick it could walk down the street. And it’ll keep you up all night.”
Sarah narrowed her eyes at her sister. “Excuse me, Jessica, but you are not in this conversation. And besides, it’s decaf.”
Jess and Sarah eyed each other, then turned to Christina—
well?
Christina licked her lips. “I … sure, I’d love one.”
“Hah, see there?” Sarah waved a hand at her sisters. “Christina, my dear, you will not be sorry.”
A unison response from Maddy and Jess—“Yes, you will.”
Mrs. Dearing returned, carrying small plates from the dining hutch. Christina helped her put slices on the plates and take them out to the table. When Christina placed a piece before Ben, she dared to touch his shoulder. He looked up at her and blinked, no smile. His expression mixed anger and hurt.
She’d
hurt
him? The thought pierced her to the core. And almost frightened her more than his anger.
How would he act when he was alone with her? Would he hit her?
Christina gave him a shaky smile and turned back to the kitchen.
“Y’all go ahead and eat,” Sarah called to her family. “Christina and I are makin’ lattes.”
“Weren’t waitin’ for ya anyway,” Jess said. But Christina heard a smile wrapped around the words.
Relief struck Christina in the chest. One quiet moment. She leaned against the counter, feeling weak. Her tired eyes followed Sarah’s movements in the latte-making process.
Sarah had a way about her that seemed so … definitive. Like she knew every step and followed each one precisely. Sarah had a pretty face. Strong jawline and clear, milky skin. Not tanned like Jess or Maddy. She certainly didn’t look nearly forty.
Sarah measured milk and half-and-half into a cup. “So when’s the wedding?”
Christina blinked. “I … we don’t know. Things have all happened so fast …”
Probably wouldn’t be one now.
“No time to talk about it?”
“Something like that.”
Sarah poured the creamy contents into two mugs. “Well, don’t worry. When the time’s right, it’ll happen.”
“Yeah.” The response sounded weak to her own ears.
“Ben sure seems happy.” Sarah pushed the dairy cartons aside.
Christina searched her face. Was he really? She’d assumed he was always like that. “Well. Good.”
Sarah glanced at her and smiled.
Laughter erupted from the dining room. Jess’s voice rose in some comment, followed by a retort from Tamel. Exhaustion trailed through Christina. She did not want to go back in there. Her mouth was tired from fake smiles. And surely everyone could see her heart beat through her shirt.
Could she do this for the rest of her life? Was this really what she wanted?
Sarah began to froth the milk. No need to try to talk above the gurgling. Christina fought to beat back her emotions before they had to join the rest of the family.
When the frothing was done Sarah brewed the coffee, then poured it into the milk. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” Christina stared at the mug.
“Well go ahead, try it.”
Christina lifted the mug and took a tentative sip. The drink slid down her throat, strong and creamy.
Good.
Her eyes widened. “It’s wonderful.”
Sarah’s lips curved. “Don’t sound so surprised.”
“I didn’t mean—”
She raised a hand. “Christina. Relax.” She looked deep into Christina’s eyes, as if she saw right through her.
Christina looked away. Managed a small nod.
Sarah sighed with satisfaction. “Yippee. I get to go in there and announce to my sisters I have a new coffee buddy.”
Did that mean Jess and Maddy wouldn’t like her now? If they’d ever liked her at all.
Christina sipped her latte while Sarah made her own drink. With every swallow the coffee tasted better. But her insides felt hollow.
“You don’t have to stay in here with me, Christina. Go eat your pie.”
“That’s okay. I want to.”
A minute passed in silence as Sarah frothed milk.
When she was done Christina dared to ask a question. “I saw something when we all first sat down at the table. Mr. Dearing looked at Mrs.—Mama Ruth—and then looked all around, then back at her. I just wondered … it sort of felt like they’d done it a hundred times.”
Sarah smiled. “You picked that up, huh. Daddy’s done that as long as I can remember.”
“What’s it mean?”
“It means he’s looked around the room and seen that she’s the prettiest one there.”
The words hit Christina in the chest. A husband would do that? After all those years of marriage?
Sarah clicked the espresso machine dial over to brew the coffee. “He always tells us girls we’re beautiful too. But we know Mama holds that special place in his heart. He started it years ago, when they were datin’. At first after lookin’ around, he’d say the words—‘you’re the prettiest one here.’ But after awhile they didn’t need the words anymore.”
Christina turned the last sentence over in her mind. What must it feel like to be that close to someone? To love each other so much you didn’t need words …
The coffee finished brewing. Sarah poured it and the milk into her mug. “All right, done. Let’s go sit down.”
Ben materialized in the kitchen doorway, carrying his empty dessert plate. His gaze latched onto Christina’s. Sarah’s eyes moved from her brother to Christina and back. “Excuse me, Ben.” She edged past him into the dining room.
With a sigh, he crossed the kitchen and set his plate in the sink. He turned to Christina. “I think we’d better talk. Let’s take a drive.”
She nodded, numb.
CHAPTER 8
Ben opened the door of his car for Christina. She was looking like a scared rabbit. What was she expecting him to do, hit her or something?
She slid inside, head down.
He got in and started the engine. It was stuffy hot in the car. He punched the air conditioner on high. No way could they talk anywhere near the house. Even now he could practically feel the eyes of his whole family watching out the window. Even if they weren’t. Even if they were sitting around the table, laughing, pretending they didn’t notice anything wrong—when everything was.
Ben’s lungs burned. How did things go wrong so fast? Sure, Chris had been evasive about her family, but to not tell him her dad was dead? And he’d specifically
asked
about her parents. Oh, that look in Jess’s eye when she realized he hadn’t known. After he’d told her up and down how everything between him and Chris was so good. His sister could always see right through him. She knew he couldn’t stand anyone to lie to him.
He backed out of the driveway and headed up the road, away from town.
Chris focused out her window.
They drove a mile in silence. An old dirt road came up on the right. Ben turned into it and put the car in Park.
He turned toward his fiancée. With obvious reluctance, she faced him.
“So.” He kept his voice even. “I’m really sorry your father is dead. I’m also really sorry you didn’t tell me. In fact, you led me to believe he was alive.”
Silence.
“Why?”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“Didn’t mean to what? Lie to me?”
“I didn’t lie.”
“Then what would you call it?”
Christina licked her lips. “I just … when you asked, I didn’t want to talk about it.”
“Well,
I
want to talk about it. Now.”
Part of Ben felt like a heel. This was about a dead parent. He should be consoling instead of confronting. Not that Christina seemed to care her father was gone.
Christina lifted a hand. “There’s not much to tell. I wasn’t living with them. I moved out when I was eighteen. I told you that.”
Barely. She hadn’t told him why. It’s not like she’d gone off to college. So why not stay at home a few more years and save some rent money?
Ben shut his eyes. Tried to gentle his voice. “How did your father die?”
Christina looked out the windshield. “Heart attack, I think.”
What was this? She didn’t
know?
He put his finger beneath her chin. Urged her to face him. “Look at me.”
Slowly her eyes met his.
“What aren’t you tellin’ me?”
Christina pulled back and folded her arms. “I don’t like talking about my parents.”
“Why?”
“Because I … just don’t.”
“That’s not good enough. I need to
know
you. Understand you. And all the sudden I realize you’re purposely keeping things from me. Which means you don’t trust me.”
She stared out the windshield.
“You know what that feels like, you lyin’ to me? It means I’m not important enough to you to trust.”
“I trust you.”
“Then why won’t you open up to me?”
Her chin dropped. “Can’t we do this later?”
Was she that clueless? “Later? Like when? After we’re married?”
Her fingers curled inward. She shook her head.
“Okay then. I’m listening.”
Christina wouldn’t raise her chin. Frustration and empathy surged through Ben. He wanted to shake her. He wanted to hold her and tell her everything would be okay.
“Christina. Please. Tell me about your parents.”
Silence.
“Come
on!”
She gave him a sudden, hard look. “They weren’t nice, okay? Not like your perfect family.” She glared at him.
“I never said my family was perfect. Heck, you’ve met ’em.”
“Well, they’re a whole lot better than mine.”
And that was somehow
his
fault?
Ben focused on the steering wheel, working his jaw. Pulling his emotions back.
“Okay.” He shifted in his seat. “That’s a start. So … what exactly did your parents do? And why is bein’ with my family makin’ you so uncomfortable?”
“It’s not.”
Ben blew out air. “Yes, it is! You haven’t been normal since we got to the house! I’ve told everybody for days how wonderful you are, and then you get here and act like some whipped child.”
Chris flinched.
“So start talkin’ to me!”
She faced him, her mouth setting in a hard line. Something about her expression told Ben she’d crossed a Rubicon. Made a decision she’d been holding back. “Fine. If you really want to know.”
“Of
course
I do.”
She tilted her head, a defiant gesture. “My mother and father were both alcoholics. I can’t remember a time when they loved me. Or didn’t neglect and beat me. I’ve had five broken bones. Countless black eyes and bruises. My childhood was beyond awful.
Nobody
cared about me, nobody. The neighbors turned their backs. The church down the street didn’t help. Social services didn’t rescue me.” She faced Ben, breathing heavily, tears glistening in her eyes. “I moved out the day I turned eighteen. Didn’t talk to either of my parents for four years. Then my dad died. I don’t miss him. I still talk to my mom as little as possible. She’s nothin’ but a—”
Chris abruptly stopped, as if stunned at her own flow of words.
Ben stared at her, his insides gone cold. He’d figured she’d maybe had some kind of rough childhood, but
this
. “I’m so sorry.” He could barely choke the words out.
She lowered her eyes, then gazed at him again, a tear falling on her cheek. The sight of it spun rage through Ben. Christina was so wonderful. He could imagine the beautiful child she’d been. How could her parents have treated her like that?
He reached for her and held her tightly. She started to cry hard, her shoulders shaking. Dark thoughts about her nasty parents trudged through Ben’s mind. It was
good
her father was dead. As for the mother, they wouldn’t need to have a thing to do with her.
No wonder Chris didn’t know how to react to his family.
After some time she quieted and pulled away.
Ben kept hold of her hands. “Why was it so hard to tell me this?”
She looked past him, as if seeking an answer. Her face, so open a minute ago, seemed to shutter again. “I don’t … it’s hard to talk about.”
Yeah, but they were planning to live the rest of their lives together.
“Do you feel ashamed or somethin’?”
She hesitated, then gave a tiny nod.
“Why? It wasn’t your fault. It was your parents’.”
Christina’s mouth opened, then shut.
“You know that, right?”
For a long moment Ben waited. Heaviness bloomed in his chest—sadness for her pain. And disappointment that she wouldn’t let him into her thoughts as he’d done with her.
“Right?”
Slowly, her lips curved. “Yes. Sure.”
Another lie. Ben could spot it now—that reticence in her face. A flat smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Hadn’t he seen the expression a dozen times before? It wasn’t shyness. It was deceit.
The realization made him rethink every one of their conversations. All of them full of lies. The thought was more than he could bear.
“Chris, you really don’t trust me. Because even now you’re doing it. You’re holding back. When I’ve never held back from you.”
“No, I’m—”
“I want to help you.” Ben cradled her face with his palms. “I want to make you forget your childhood. Build a new life. But I can’t if you won’t let me inside your
head.”
“I will. I promise I will.” Her words tinged with panic.
“
Will
isn’t good enough. How about right
now
?”
“Okay.” Her cheeks reddened, tension stiffening her body. “Please. I don’t want to lose you.”
Ben pulled his head back. “What? You’re not going to lose me.”
She gazed at him as if wanting so hard to believe that. Ben gazed back, his forehead crinkling. What was going on here?
Christina shut her eyes. Said nothing.
Ben took his hands from her face. What did he have to do, pull every bit out of her? “Okay.” He leaned against his car door. “I’m going to ask you some questions. All I ask from you is the truth. No hiding. None of that ‘Sure, Ben, everything’s great’ when it obviously isn’t. Okay?”
She nodded.
“Good. You know what your parents did was terrible, right?”
“Of course.”
“Do you hate them for it?”
Christina hesitated. “Most of the time.”
Ben eyed her. “Then why do you feel shame within yourself? I mean, I get that sometimes we can feel ashamed for something a family member does. But it seems to go deeper than that with you.”
She looked at him for the longest time. Fresh tears welled in her eyes. When she finally spoke she choked out the words. “That’s why this isn’t going to work.”
“What’s
this?”
“Us.”
“What are you
talking
about?”
Her jaw tightened. “Because you have to
ask
me why I feel ashamed. You don’t get it. You’ll never get it.”
Never? That wasn’t fair. “So enlighten me.”
Defiance returned to her eyes. “You’ve been built up all your life by parents who love you, Ben Dearing. Who’ve always said you could do anything. Who gave you confidence. Your past is what makes you
you
. The way you trust people, the way you see the world is all because of what you were taught in your childhood.” Christina swiped at a tear. “How do you think you’d see the world if your parents always said you were worth nothing? That they were sorry you were born, because now they had to feed you?” Her voice hardened. “That you were ugly and insignificant and would never amount to anything.”
Every word hit Ben in the chest. “I’m so sor—”
“I’m not through.” Her hand shot up.
“Ok—”
“What if you dreaded to wake up every morning because you were afraid how you’d be treated? Or worse yet, you
knew
. What if the sound of your father’s footsteps made you shake? What if you grew up knowing you couldn’t trust anyone or anything? That life could end in a minute? And sometimes”—Christina’s mouth trembled—“you wished it would.”
“Chris—”
“What kind of person would you be today, huh, Ben?” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “You think you’d still be laid-back and easy? Confident? Think you’d just open up to people, believing they were going to love you—when no one else ever had?”
Ben’s heart was about to break. “But I
do
love you.”
“Because you don’t know me!” Her voice rose. “Because you think I’m some perfect person who’s going to fit into your perfect world!”
“I do know you, Chris. And what I don’t know, I want to learn.”
“Really? Then guess what—I
hate
being called Chris!”
Ben’s eyebrows rose. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know—”
“My father used to call me that. He’d never let me forget I was supposed to be a boy. My name’s
Christina.
”
“Okay, okay.” Ben held up both palms in an
I-give
. “Christina. It’s a pretty name, I like it.”
He waited, afraid to say anything else wrong.
Christina regarded him, her jaw still set. Little by little her expression relaxed. Finally she blinked away. “There.” Now she sounded toneless. As if she’d just thrown her life away. “I told you.”
No kidding. And there had to be more. This was probably the tip of the iceberg. Ben swallowed. “You said we wouldn’t work. Yes, we will, Christina. We will.”
She gave him another long look, then managed a nod.
He ran a hand over his mouth. “Do you love me?”
She started to cry again. “More than anything.”
“And I love you too. I love you even more now than I did ten minutes ago. So trust me when I tell you—you just have to continue bein’ honest with me. How do I know what you like and don’t like if you don’t tell me?”
She sniffed. “What if you don’t like what I say?”
“Then we’ll work it out. That’s what love’s all about.”
That disbelieving look came back. He opened his mouth to say more—and sudden, cold understanding hit him. Christina had spent her whole childhood learning to hide her feelings just to survive. She’d never known honesty in a relationship. Never.
She hadn’t a clue.
What if she didn’t learn how to be honest? What if she couldn’t trust him enough to overcome her past? She could ruin this for both of them. She really could.
He touched Christina on the arm, inwardly steeling himself for more. “Tell me somethin’ else I do that you don’t like.”
She wiped away the last tear. “There is noth—”
“
Stop
it. That’s not gonna work anymore.”
She sighed, then sat in silence, her expression turning from soft to resolved, then back again. Finally her mouth opened. “I don’t like the way your sisters wait on you.”
What?
“They don’t wait on me.”
“They do so. Anything you want, they run and fetch it for you.”
Well, maybe they did. But he
liked
that. “So what’s this got to do with us?”
“You’ll expect me to do the same thing.”
“No I won’t.”
“Yes you will. In fact you practically said so.” Christina’s head wagged. “‘That’s what I like—a woman who waits on me.’”
“I didn’t mean that.”
“You did, Ben. You
did
. You don’t even realize how much you’ve been coddled as the baby of the family.
I’m
not going to do that. I waited on my parents all my life when they were too drunk to get up themselves—which was most of the time. I’m not doing that anymore.”
Wait a minute, this was serious. “So … you’re tellin’ me you’re
never
gonna do
anything
for me?” Serving someone was a sign of love, wasn’t it?
BOOK: That Dog Won't Hunt (Dearing Family Series)
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