New Leaf (10 page)

Taffeta enjoyed the long drive home, which became even longer because of road construction. Barney set the heater at full blast to keep the cab toasty warm, allowing both of them to shed their coats. On the outskirts of Reno, he had stopped at a convenience store for drinks and snacks, which they munched on when lunchtime rolled around.

The drone of the studded tires lulled her to sleep for a short nap. When she awakened, the first thing she smelled was the faint but enticing scent of him, a blend of freshly laundered clothing, shaving cologne, bath soap, shampoo, and a lingering trace of outdoor aromas, which she guessed clung to his discarded jacket draped over the console between them. Why she found the latter intoxicating was a mystery to her. She supposed it was the essence of Barney that held such strong appeal. Somewhere she’d read that one’s sense of smell played a huge role in physical attraction. Oh, how she wished it were so simple. To get over him, she could just stuff cotton balls in her nose.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” He flashed her a grin. “It’s about time you returned to the land of the living. I
was getting bored.” His smile broadened. “How about another sing-along?”

Taffeta laughed. “If your ears can stand it, I’m game.”

After they had sung until she was almost hoarse, he suggested that they play a travel game called “I see.” It was at times frustrating but also entertaining, and keeping their minds occupied seemed to make the time pass quicker. Taffeta couldn’t help thinking that Barney would make a fabulous father, at least on road trips. Instead of asking, “Are we almost there?” his kids would be too busy enjoying themselves to worry about it.

When they stopped at a rest area along the way, Barney couldn’t get his truck to restart. After messing around under the raised hood, he told Taffeta that he’d seen nothing abnormal and believed it was a blown starter fuse, which would only take minutes to fix if there were an auto parts store nearby. But, of course, there wasn’t. A temporary repair of the fuse could sometimes be done with a bit of foil, he’d told Taffeta, and they’d begun searching his vehicle for something that might work.

Finally they gave up on that idea, and Barney tried to call out on his cell phone to get help. He grimly related to Taffeta that his phone said it was searching for service. They were in a dead zone. Typically of Barney, he kept Taffeta smiling with silly jokes and stories as they sat in the pickup, hoping someone with a piece of foil might pull into the
rest area for a break. None of the individuals Barney approached had anything in their cars made of foil.

Finally after being trapped there for three hours, a man driving a pickup that was the same model as Barney’s pulled in and parked beside them. When Barney exited his vehicle to ask if the guy had any foil, he hit pay dirt. The stranger kept extra starter fuses in his glove box and gave one to Barney for free.

“Always carry extra starter fuses,” the fellow said. “This model blows them out a lot. I learned that the hard way.”

They were about fifty miles from the Mystic Creek city limits when Barney’s cell rang. He glanced down at the screen, immediately started pulling over, and muttered under his breath that he should have paid for hands-free calling when he ordered his truck. Taffeta saw his point, but he had his cell phone for navigation and probably didn’t have to pull over to talk all that often.

“Hi, Mom. What’s up?” he said after answering the call.

Taffeta couldn’t hear his mother’s side of the conversation, and Barney’s made little sense.

“I’m sorry. It’s over a five-hour drive, not counting stops, and we ran into road construction that cost us about two hours in delays. Plus, my starter fuse blew out, costing us another three hours. We didn’t get out of Reno until after nine. It took forever to get our breakfast order, and the hotel checkout line was horrific. Some kind of convention in town.” And, “You did what?” Then, “Mom, she
hasn’t even met any of you yet. That’s going to be pretty overwhelming for her.”

When Taffeta’s curiosity was piqued to almost torturous levels, Barney ended the call and pulled back out onto the highway. “That was my mother, if you didn’t already guess. She and my sisters got the harebrained idea to book Dizzy’s Roundtable Restaurant for a wedding reception this evening. It starts at four thirty. Mom has invited half of Mystic Creek, and we, of course, are the guests of honor and absolutely
must
show up.”

Taffeta gulped. “Half the town will be there?”

Barney rolled his eyes in her direction, his expression sulky. “Well, she said she invited all of her and dad’s friends, and Mom is friendly with practically everyone.” He sighed. “She means well. And, according to her, there’s no better way to launch this fake marriage thing than to do it with a bang. She and my sisters have probably worked their asses off, trying to throw a big party on such short notice. My whole family plans to be there to lend us moral support and spread our story—that we’ve been dating on the sly for months. We should be grateful. Right?”

Taffeta had a perverse urge to laugh despite her discomfort. She had avoided crowds ever since she was found guilty of child abuse. The thought of attending a large party rattled her nerves. But Barney looked even more reluctant than she felt. “Any kind of social gathering requires a lot of work, so yes, I think we’d better be appreciative.”

He nodded. “You’ll love my mother.
Everyone
loves my mother, including me. But she’s got a surplus of energy and an impulsive streak. I can never remember exactly how long she and Dad have been married, but he’s been trying to bridle her for years. She balks like a mule.”

“I can’t believe you just likened your beloved mother to a mule.”

“Actually there isn’t a mule alive that can compare to her.” His expression relaxed, and the ghost of a smile touched his mouth. “I can’t believe she went to all this trouble. She knows the marriage is all for show, and so do my sisters. That’s why none of them came to Reno for the nuptials. If it had been a real marriage, I would have had to beat them away with a ball bat to find any time alone with you.”

Taffeta’s throat tightened. While in Barney’s company, she was finding it increasingly difficult to remember that this union wasn’t meant to last. She forced herself to focus on the party. Despite her weariness—which she suspected was caused more by emotional stress than anything else—she would put on a happy face and exclaim over how lovely the reception was. Barney’s family wasn’t doing this for him; they were doing it for
her
. Kate Sterling might be an impulsive woman and headstrong, but she definitely had a big heart.

•   •   •

Barney and Taffeta reached Mystic Creek at a little after five o’clock, allowing them no time to stop at their respective homes to change clothes and freshen up. The reception had started at four thirty, and
Kate Sterling was undoubtedly fretting because the bride and groom were late.

Barney was exhausted by the time he and Taffeta entered the Mystic Creek Menagerie, an old, cavernous, round building that had once been a lumber mill. Several years ago it had been converted into a mall with shops encircling a gigantic round table that served as a dining area for Dizzy’s. For special events, Tony Chavez, the restaurant owner, moved all the tables and chairs off to the sides to create a revolving dance floor. Barney liked Tony. Almost everyone in town did. He was a generous guy with a keen sense of humor. Along with the specials that he ran every week, he also offered a Joke of the Day, an off-color version for men who came in alone and another version suitable for mixed company.

“Holy hell,” Barney muttered when he saw the size of the crowd.

Everyone seemed to be dressed in ultracasual clothing. Barney suspected that was his mother’s doing. She hadn’t wanted Taffeta, still rumpled from a road trip, to feel out of place. Not that Taffeta looked rumpled in snug jeans and a long-sleeved red T-shirt, but she would have felt conspicuous if everyone else had been dressed up.

After they shed their jackets and hung them on wall hooks just inside the door, Barney curled an arm around Taffeta’s shoulders. Her soft curves molded against his harder angles. She glanced up at him, her expression one of barely suppressed panic.

“It’s going to be fine,” he assured her.

“Not if someone recognizes me,” she reminded him. “My trial was big news, and my face was plastered on the front pages of newspapers all over the state.”

Fear shadowed her eyes, and seeing it made Barney’s heart catch. For appearances’ sake, he forced himself to grin. “If anyone recognizes you, just say you’re innocent and that you’ve filed for an appeal to prove it.”

She pasted a smile on her face. “People are staring at me.”

“Only because you’re so beautiful, Taffy, not because they recognize you from old newspaper stories.”

She took a deep breath and released it. “Oh, Barney, would you just look at all that food?”

Barney took stock of the laden tables on the left side of the mall. From the corner of his eye, he saw people glance their way and then do double takes when they noticed how different Taffeta looked. Music streamed through the building from ceiling speakers. Some guests had already sat down at the empty tables to eat. Others stood in small groups, nibbling from white plates and sipping wine or beer.

Off to his left, Barney saw Garrett Jones and Sheriff Adams chatting with each other. Marietta Adams stood beside her husband, her plate heaped with a variety of appetizers that she was probably sharing with Blake.

To Taffeta, Barney said, “I wonder how much of the cooking my mom and sisters did. A spread like
this would cost a small fortune if Tony did all the preparation.”

Just then, Barney saw his mother slipping through the throngs of people to reach them. Kate’s dark hair, loose around her shoulders, shone like satin in the overhead lighting. She normally dressed up for parties, but tonight she wore a blue blouse, faded jeans, and well-used riding boots. Barney made a mental note to thank her later for being so thoughtful of Taffeta’s feelings.

Trailing behind his petite wife, Jeremiah took one step for every two of Kate’s. He grinned at Barney over the top of her head.

“You’re late!” Kate exclaimed when she reached them. “Everyone else has already started eating appetizers.”

“It’s a long drive, Mom, and we ran into delays. We got here as fast as we could.”

Acting as if they were good friends, Kate hugged Taffeta. In a voice that Barney could barely hear, she said, “I’m Kate, Barney’s mother.” Clasping Taffeta’s shoulders, she stepped back, gave her a measuring look, and added, “You’re absolutely lovely.”

Barney embraced his mom. Jeremiah curled an arm around Taffeta, giving her a friendly jostle as he quietly introduced himself. Without taking his eyes off her, he said, “See that long center table with all the food? Barney’s brothers and sisters are standing there. The girls are Sarah and Adriel. The boys are named Jeb, Ben, and Jonas. You’ll get them sorted out when you actually meet them.”

Barney could tell that Taffeta felt overwhelmed,
but he doubted anyone else would notice. She was doing a pretty good job of appearing to be relaxed and smiled up at her father-in-law as if what he said was amusing.

Barney had always appreciated the loyalty of his family, but never more so than now. His mom and dad acted as if Taffeta were actually their new daughter-in-law, not a temporary stand-in, and they did such a good job of carrying it off that Barney was half convinced of it himself.

“Come on,” Jeremiah said as he drew Taffeta into a walk. “I want to show off my new daughter.”

Barney tensed. He wanted to stay close to his wife in case she needed moral support. But Jeremiah was having none of that.

“Quit frowning,” Kate scolded. “Your dad will take good care of her, and this is supposed to be one of the happiest moments of your life.”

He forced his lips into a smile. “She’s scared, Mom. This is the first time she’s been seen in public looking like her real self. What if someone recognizes her? It could get ugly, and I’d like to be with her, just in case.” Barney gazed after Taffeta. “Besides, isn’t it customary for the bride and groom to stay together at a wedding reception?”

“We aren’t following any particular protocol,” Kate replied. “For one thing, we didn’t have time to plan anything. And there was no wedding here in town, which would have given us a starting point.” She saw Barney glance at Taffeta again. “Sweetheart, relax. Your dad will take good care of her, and if someone recognizes her, he’ll handle the
situation.” She took Barney’s arm. “Let’s circulate, and then we’ll join your father and Taffeta to eat. The way I see it, announcing your marriage at a huge party will help circumvent any gossip. Jeremiah will act as if he knows Taffeta quite well, and people will be more likely to believe that the two of you have been dating for a while.”

Barney couldn’t argue with that. “Did you and the girls make all the food?”

“A lot of it. Tony supplied the rest without any markup on price. It’s his wedding gift to you guys.”

Barney winced. “Damn, Mom. I hate that he did that. We may be getting a divorce before the ink is dry on our marriage certificate.”

“Hush. Someone may hear you.”

Kate led him toward Garrett and Sheriff Adams. “Marietta,” she cried. “I’m so glad you got home in time for the party!”

Marietta tipped her blond head and offered a bright smile. “I headed back the moment Blake called me. I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”

“You sneaky son of a gun,” Sheriff Adams said, clamping a beefy hand over Barney’s shoulder. “When you asked for the weekend off, you didn’t so much as hint that you were going off to get married.”

Barney laughed. “Taffeta took some convincing. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it and have her get cold feet.”

Blake glanced across the room to where Taffeta stood with Jeremiah, talking to Crystal Malloy, a woman in her late twenties who owned and
operated Silver Beach, Mystic Creek’s version of a high-end salon. The woman’s long hair was bright red with neon blue streaks today. Tomorrow, it might be apple green. Crystal enjoyed advertising her hair products. “Apparently you’re good for Taffeta, Barney. I barely recognized her when she walked in.”