Princess Ever After (Royal Wedding Series) (17 page)

“Might I assist you?” Tanner stepped lively to steady the man who tripped sideways, then backward, balancing the seat in his arms.

He glanced at Tanner and righted himself. “Thanks, son. But I got a method to my madness.”

Tanner smiled. “I gather you do.”

“You looking for Reg?” he said, settling the seat against the wall.

“Indeed, I am. How did you know?”

“Spotted you hanging around Friday night.” The chap faced him, panting for a bit of wind, hands on his hips. “You keen on Reg?”

“Keen? No, I’m—”

“Get in line. I think every man from here to kingdom come has a crush on her. Including me.” He moved to the passenger
side of the car. “In the purest sense, mind you. But she’s holding to herself. Not like some dames running off after every guy who winks at her.” He leaned toward Tanner with an outstretched hand. “Name’s Wally. And you are . . . ?”

“Tanner Burkhardt.” He slapped his hand into Wally’s.

“Reg is in the office with Al.” Wally pulled a wrench from his hip pocket. “Making plans to move. Seems we got us a new shop.”

A new shop? Hmm . . . she’d not mentioned this Friday night. Tanner made his way to the office and peered inside, knocking lightly on the metal door frame.

Regina glanced up, recognition in her eyes. Perhaps even a bit of a welcome. “Tanner, hey. Come on in.” Dressed in coveralls with her hair wrapped into a loose ponytail, she still managed to spark his heart. “You remember Al?”

“Indeed I do.” Tanner shook the man’s hand, then turned to Regina. “Miss Bes . . . Regina . . . might I have a word?”

“Um, yeah. Sure.” She exchanged a look with Al, then motioned for Tanner to lead the way outside. “We’re all pretty excited around here. Mark—you remember him—is giving us a warehouse. Rent free. It’s three times the size of this place.”

She hopped up on the picnic table and Tanner perched next to her. “This is a good thing for your business.”

“It’s an
amazing
thing for our business.”

He nodded, a twist of dread between his ribs. Her change of circumstances didn’t change his mission. It just made it more difficult.

“I’ve a bit of news as well.” He leaned forward, rubbing his hands together as if the action might form the perfect words out of thin air. “Since we talked, circumstances have changed for Hessenberg. And me.”

“Wh–what do you mean?” Was that concern in her tone? “How so? Good or bad?”

“Depends on how you choose to look at things. The situation
has become more urgent.” Tanner bullet-pointed the facts as King Nathaniel relayed them. Of the petition filed by Seamus with the EU court on behalf of the Hessen people. “The king and prime minister fear unrest and violence among the people. They ask for you to return with me now, take the Oath of the Throne, and establish the royal house. The sooner you are in your rightful place, the less likely we are in for political chaos and anarchy. If you are in Hessenberg, the court might reject even reviewing the petition.”

“And you want me to walk into this mess?” She stared off, away from him, her composure tight and guarded. “I can’t fix this . . . no . . . no way. Did I tell you I hate politics?”

“You mentioned it.”

She gazed at him. “I’m the last person you want leading the charge in Hessenberg, Tanner. I know nothing about your rule of law, your people, or even how to govern.”

“You won’t be alone,” he said, thinking it best not to mention that Seamus, Hessenberg’s governor, was behind this quasi coup. “You’ll have advisors.”

“Like who? People I do not know? How can I trust them?”

He smiled. “Exactly. ’Tis why I think you will do quite well as our sovereign. You will try and test everything and everyone. From what little I’ve seen, you don’t seem keen on merely pleasing people.”

“But isn’t it best if Hessenberg becomes a sovereign state without a monarchy? They can be a republic like America, right?”

“Aha, the question of the ages. The source of political, university think-tank, pundits’ debates.”

“Forget think-tanks. What do
you
think, Tanner?” She faced him. “Not what you’re being told—I get you have a job to do—but if you could wave a magic wand and
poof
, create the ideal country, what would you do?”

“Honest?”

“The preferred thing. Honesty over lying, yes.”

“I’d be on the plane tonight”—he swallowed, feeling lost for a moment in her intensity—“with you.”

She jerked around, facing forward with such force her ponytail slipped free. “I’m moving to a new shop.” Jumping off the table, she started for the barn, then whipped right and aimed for the road, then backtracked to the table. “Don’t you see? A shop . . . a new and bigger shop. Why would Mark suddenly offer his warehouse the same time you show up offering me a country?”

“I’ve no idea, I’m sure.”

“I–I have to think on this . . .”

“I’d expect nothing less. But, Regina, I’m not offering you a country in the same way Mark is offering you the warehouse. I’m offering your true inheritance.”

She paced around the picnic table. “I–I can’t, Tanner. I can’t leave Al and the business. I mean, things are looking up. We went into this venture together in good faith.”

“Regina, I understand you have a life. Have plans.” A watery sheen glistened in her blue eyes. “I do. And I’m sorry my mission is disturbing it.”

She glanced away again, touching her fingers to the corners of her eyes. “This is just too . . . crazy.” Regina cruised down the gravel and grass driveway toward the road, talking to herself. Tanner watched her until she disappeared from view between the light and the shadows, bolstering his heart that he’d not failed. Yet.

Removing his phone from his pocket, he tapped the king’s aide, Jonathan, a brief message.

No return 2night

TWELVE

T
he bluish-red hues of Monday evening’s dusk settled over Reggie’s house as she sat in the garage behind the wheel of Gram’s old Corvair, eating McDonald’s and listening to an oldies station on the push-button radio.

Comfort all around. She’d not deny it. French fries, chocolate shake, the Beach Boys, and Gram’s Corvair.

It’s where she came when she needed to think, pray, find harmony in her soul.

Drawing a long drink of cold chocolate richness from her straw, the sweetness cooling her turbulent emotions, she stared out the windshield through the open garage door toward the purple end of day and the amber rise of the streetlamp.

Who would help Mrs. Shaw with her flower beds if she went to Hessenberg?

“Care for some company?” Tanner peered through the passenger window.

Startled, Reggie steadied her racing heart with a deep breath. “Where did you come from?”

“Through the house . . . you didn’t answer the bell and the front door was unlocked.” He slipped into the passenger seat. “This is a fun old motorcar.”

“It’s was Gram’s. She bought it in ’68. Drove it for twenty years. Have you had dinner?”

“No, I—”

“They’re still hot.” Reggie passed him the fries.

Tanner reached for a few sticks off the top. “So this is what you do? Eat fast food in an old car?”

“Sometimes. When I need to go back to ground, figure stuff out.”

“Such an admirable quality, Regina. You take time to ponder a matter.”

“Heaven help the girl who didn’t ponder
this
matter. The one you dumped in my lap.”

Tanner took a few more fries. “May I ask you something? Why do you like old cars so much?”

Reggie set her milk shake on the console and reached for a napkin, wiping a bit of cold dew from her fingers. “After Mama died, Al had just retired and his wife, Miriam, had us over to dinner just about every night. Daddy loaded up Gram and me and off we went. Miriam was—and is—very kind to me. Motherly. Al had just purchased an old GTO to restore, so after dinner Daddy and Al went out to work on the car. I started tagging along to watch, helped if they let me. Miriam played gin rummy with Gram or watched TV.”

The words flowed easy and smooth, surprising Reggie because for the first time in seventeen years, she was vocalizing her memories. “The sounds of the garage, the clank of tools, the murmur of Daddy’s and Al’s voices, the gunning of an engine . . . it became home to me.”

“Home base.”

“After Gram died, I’d go out to the garage and sit in her car. For hours. Just thinking and listening to the radio, running down the battery.” She laughed softly. “Don’t you know I learned to use jumper cables early on.”

“I’m sure it was a difficult time for you, being so young, without a mum.”

“Then my dog died.”

“Then your dog died? I say . . .”

Reggie shook her head and gazed out the windshield. “Bonnie. A Sheltie. She was going on fifteen, so she had a good life. Just the timing was rotten.”

“Sounds like the makings of an American country song.”

“I’m saying . . .” she said, glancing at Tanner. “But no country song I ever heard ended with the girl being a real princess.”

“There’s a first time for everything. You should give it a go.” He seemed more relaxed than earlier. She liked this Tanner better than the formal, stiff, all-business one. He grabbed a few more French fries. It was as if he couldn’t quite decide who he was or what kind of man he needed to be.

“What’s your story, Tanner? Why did they send
you
?” Reggie reached for the volume knob as the announcer introduced Van Morrison and “Brown Eyed Girl.”

“My story . . . pretty boring. Parents. One brother. Boarding school. University. The law college—”

“You know, listing your life in bullet points isn’t telling me who you really are, Tanner.”

“—four years as a barrister, three as a staffer in the governor’s office, six months as Minister of Culture.”

“And yet I still don’t know why they sent you?”

“I know the entail.” He looked in the McDonald’s bag and took out a napkin, his tone back to a clipped, formal sound. “And I’m Minister of Culture.” He looked over at her, his face half in shadow, half in the light. “
You,
in essence, are our culture, Regina. The king needed an ambassador and he thought I fit the bill.”

“Are y’all friends?”

“We knew each other a bit . . . at university. Friends? I’d say not.”

“Do you, like, get fired if I refuse to go?”

“Lose my position?” He wadded the napkin into his palm. “No, but it won’t look smart on my record.”

“Then I’m sorry for putting you between a rock and a hard place.”

“As I am sorry for doing the same to you.” His expression sparked her heart with a strange new sensation. “You’re determined not to return with me?” he said.

No, not
so
determined. “Still thinking.” Would she return for Hessenberg’s sake or because she
liked him
?

Oh no, please, Reg.

See, Carrie was right. Reggie should’ve been boy crazy in junior high and killed all the juvenile love flutters. But no, she’d refused. So here she sat at twenty-nine infatuated with a man determined to ruin her life.

Ruin? No, he isn’t here to ruin anything
. Reggie peered at Tanner to discover he was peering at her. She flushed with a blend of embarrassment and desire.

“What of your father’s advice?” Tanner said after a moment. “Have you spoken any more to him of this situation?”

“He says I should go.”

“Brown Eyed Girl” faded and “Love Me Tender” drifted from the speakers into the car.

“Ah, the king of rock and roll,” Tanner said with a slight bow toward the radio.

Elvis’s smooth, velvet voice swirled around Reggie, making her mellow and nostalgic.

Love me tender, love me true . . .

The intimate melody, along with Tanner’s presence, made her melancholy. Then her eyes met his and . . .
Oh boy.
She hit the chocolate milk shake hard.

“Regina, is there anything I can say or do—”

“How long would I have to stay?” She cranked the engine to
charge up the battery. The old motor grunted and hissed, then settled down to a smooth idle. “We just got that huge warehouse, rent free.”

“Stay? In Hessenberg? Several weeks. A month. Maybe more. Until the entail is executed and you’ve taken the oath and accepted your inheritance.”

Anxiety burned under her skin. “What exactly is my inheritance?” Was this who she really was to be? “And this is all imminent, right?”

“Yes, and there are other details . . . the business of government. As I said, you’ll be Head of State and therefore required to call for a government to be formed. As for your inheritance, it is the throne and the Grand Duchy of Hessenberg.”

Each detail layered her anxiety with panic. “I inherit a country?”

“That’s what dukes and duchesses are, Regina. Owners of lands, regions. In your case, a whole island nation.”

“But I can leave?”

“We pray you won’t, but yes, you can abdicate.”

“Abdicate. I couldn’t have cared less about that word a few days ago. Now it sounds ominous, full of failure.”

“But it’s how you can return home.”

“Then what? What happens to Hessenberg? Anarchy again?” The weight of Tanner’s request, of the nation’s need, rested on her heart, growing heavier with each breath.