Princess Ever After (Royal Wedding Series) (38 page)

“Don’t look now, Reg, but the dream has changed.”

“I’m coming home. You stay put.” She raced up the stairs two at a time, barely aware of Tanner’s heavy footsteps resounding behind her. “See you tomorrow, Al. See you tomorrow.”

TWENTY-FIVE

D
espite the cordial press conference, Friday morning dawned with mixed headlines.

Yee Haw, We Got Us a Redneck Royal

Minister of Culture Burkhardt a Derelict Dad

Governor Fitzsimmons: “Hessenberg Needs True Leaders”

American Regina Beswick Takes Oath of the Throne. Hessenberg on Her Way to Independence

Tanner slammed his office door and dropped to his chair, slapping down the papers, muttering to himself.

Gone fifteen minutes and he felt her absence. He missed her. He’d have climbed on Royal Air Force One himself if she’d so much as nodded in his direction.

But she waved good-bye without a hint of anything more. Without a good-bye kiss. Or a confirmation of love. He’d raised heaven and earth to clear her departure with the King’s Office and get her on a royal jet by 10:00 a.m., with a security detail.

All overtures of love had died an excruciating death, rendering their first kiss in the rain to the dark recesses of his mind.

Tanner reminded her right up to when the pilot fired the jet’s engine that she had to return to sign the entail. On 22 October Nathaniel would no longer be king. Henry Montgomery would
no longer be Hessenberg’s prime minister. It would be up to Regina to pick a leader to form a government . . .

She’d assured him she’d return in time but doubt lingered where hope once lived. The look in her eyes when she told him Al was closing the shop . . . fear mixed with sorrow.

At this point, Tanner had half a mind to suggest Seamus run things. Let the old blowhard have the duchy. It’d give Tanner a good excuse to immigrate to America. Take Bella and Britta with him. Raise a couple of Southern girls.

Blast but he’d wanted to kiss Regina good-bye. But they never had a moment alone. At this very moment she was winging her way to America with Clarence, and their last exchange was terse and tense, filled with details of her trip home.

He’d slept not a wink last night. Not a wink. Missing her before she even took off. Did she regret their kisses? Had he taken advantage? The whole thing nearly brought him to his knees. But he’d made a promise to the Lord and he was bound to keep it.

I’ll not bother you if you’ll not bother me.

The light rap on his door did not wait for an answer. Seamus entered with a pompous grin.

“Good day to you, my boy.” He pointed to the stack of newspapers. “You’ve seen the headlines.”

“I have. What’s the big idea bringing me into this, Seamus?”

“Discredit you, of course.” He tapped his unlit pipe against his palm, releasing the subtle whiff of burnt tobacco. “Make the people wonder who advises the princess.”

“You’re not going to get rid of her that easily. And be advised, you can hurt me all you want, but don’t you dare bring my girls into this.”

“My boy, my boy, I am a statesman. Did you not read the article? I left Trude and the girls out by name. I merely wanted to tinge your character in the public’s eye. I hear the princess fled the country this morning. Winging her way home, is she?”

“She needed to see a friend.” So Seamus tossed Tanner’s
name in the media mud. It was long overdue, well deserved. Nevertheless . . . “You need to tread lightly here, Seamus. Whether or not you like it, I have sway with the princess.”

“Just as I thought I had sway with you.” His gaze darkened. “I believed you to be my ally.”

“I am your ally, but not against Regina.”

“Tanner, I’ll not back down. My lawyers are working hard to convince the court to take our case and rule in our favor. Hessenberg will be a self-governing state sans a monarchy.”

“You need to know I support the princess.” Tanner sighed, his patience thin and brittle. “Seamus, why are you doing this?”

The governor patted his wide gut. “Because I’ve been around long enough to recognize opportunity when it comes knocking. Have you seen our new ad? Ran it on the morning show, getting people awake and ready to become a true democracy. In the twenty-first century, no country intentionally forms a monarchy. We’ve been given a window to loosen the bonds of our ancestors and become a modern country.”

“So I can expect more controversy? More negative press?”

“You can expect a well-planned offensive.”

With those words hanging in the air, Dad entered Tanner’s office, glancing between Tanner and the governor.

“Archbishop, good to see you.” Seamus offered his hand.

“Governor, good to see you. I just came by to see—”

“Well, I’m off. Tanner, you know where to find me if you need me.”

Yes, he knew where to find him. In the mire. Tanner slipped behind his desk, taking a seat. “How can I help you, Dad?”

“I saw the headlines.”

Tanner shuffled through the papers. “Seamus is launching an offensive to build political favor for his agenda.”

“He leaked your story to the press?” Dad took the seat next to Tanner’s desk. “I thought more of the man.”

“It took thirty years, but he finally showed his true colors.”

“What do you make of it?”

“What can I make of it? It’s out there. I’m grateful he left off Trude’s name and the girls’.”

“I heard from Trude’s father she’s marrying again and moving to America.”

“Yes, and she’s asked me to take the girls.” Tanner went to the window and gazed down on the hustle and bustle, wishing for a moment he could disconnect from his emotional turbulence and get lost in the conversations and activity below.

“Well, isn’t this a divine twist in things?”

“Divine? I don’t know but a twist I’ll grant you. I told her I’d take the girls but added my own conditions. Which she’s considering.”

“Does your mother know?”

Tanner shook his head. “I’ve not told her. Wait until we get it all sorted out. Trude may turn down my deal just to spite me.”

“I’ll add this to my prayers.”

“That would be appreciated.” Tanner and God had brokered no deal about others praying on his behalf.

“Tanner, I want you to know . . .” Dad cleared his throat. “I’m proud of you.”

The confession stirred Tanner’s stale, stored tears. He bent to pick lint from the carpet, his eyes hot and burning. “Is there anything else?”

“No, I guess not.” The air in the room hung heavy between them, as if exhausted by their short exchange. “Ring when you know more.”

“Will do.” As Dad reached for the knob, emotional tremors shook Tanner to the center of his being. If he didn’t say it now, he’d never say it. Or it would be ten times harder when he did. “Th-thank you, Dad. Thank you.”

Dad’s eyes glistened. “Anytime.”

Battling back a rare wash of tears, Tanner cleared his head
and heart with deep breaths. He was just gathering himself when his phone pinged. A text from Trude.

This is how U plan 2 take care of my daughters? In the headlines?

Tanner sat down hard, read her text again, and heaven help him, he started laughing.

As the dawn’s sunrise crested over the sleepy, north Florida skyline, Regina urged her little old Datsun around Capital Circle, heading for the shop.

Al and the boys would be there by now, and she buzzed with anticipation.
Surprise! I’m home.

First thing in the morning, Al always sat down with his chocolate milk and box-o-donuts. “Stuff like this will make you never want to leave home.”

Know what? He was right. What in the world ever made her want to leave home? To be a princess.
Pffbbt
. What was her life anyway? A movie? A soap opera?

Gram was right. Being a princess wasn’t a job, or a title. It was a way of life. One she could live right here in Tallahassee.

Wasn’t that what Gram did? Lived the life of a princess by her actions, not her title?

Gripping the wheel, Reggie slowed for a light, excitement buzzing in her middle. She was home. Where she belonged.
This
was her kingdom. The light switched to green and she was off, heading for the shop, turning down the driveway a few minutes later.

The Datsun’s door creaked as she stepped out, and it took both hands to reset the hinges and close it. Reggie ran across the grass and gravel parking lot toward the dark, quiet shop, calling for
Al, Rafe, or Wally, stopping short when she spied the sad empty space that once housed the Corvette.

“Al?” She stepped back outside. His truck wasn’t here. In fact, her car was the only car on the grounds. “Al? Rafe? Wally?”

Back in the shop, Reggie peeked around the short kitchenette wall, expecting to be assaulted by the aroma of coffee. But the space was also dark and quiet.

She ducked into the office, slipping her keys in her pocket. The desk was a mess of invoices and bills scattered over the opened checkbook. Al had been writing checks.

The sound of a door slam drew Reggie out of the office. Finally. A face she knew and loved. Al headed her way with his milk and donuts.

“Hey, what gives?” Reggie greeted him smiling, hands on her hips. “I go out of town for a few days and everyone slacks off?”

“Reg! You said you were on your way but I didn’t think you could get here so fast.” Al swung his big arm around her shoulders, careful not to bop her with the milk carton. “Ha, ha, girl. It’s good to see you. What’d you do, hop on the next plane as soon as we hung up?”

“Almost, yes. Look, Al, I know it’s Saturday, but why is everything so dark?” She followed him back into the office.

“What’d you do with my invoices, Reg? I had them all arranged.”

“Arranged? They were strewn all over the desk.” She sat in the rickety old office chair, a dark sadness tainting her previous excitement. Everything was changing. Everything.

“You organize in file folders; I organize by strewing.” He set down his milk and donuts.

“Why are you doing the invoices? The books are my job.” Maybe if she acted as if nothing had changed, things could get back to normal.

“You aren’t the only one who can pay a bill and balance the
books. I ran a side business the entire time I was in the Marines.” He pulled down two glasses, setting one in front of Reggie. “Have a glass of chocolate with me, Your Majesty?”

“Stop . . . and it’d be my honor.”

Al poured and set out the donuts before taking a seat. All the while, Reggie sat under the stark fluorescent light, realizing more and more she’d not returned home to save the shop but to close it.

Al capped the milk carton and raised his glass. “To you and all the good Lord has called you to do.”

She took a small sip. “So, it’s true. You’re closing the shop.”

“Reg, look around. It’s a leaning old red barn. We’ve got no jobs.”

“We had a job until you gave back the Corvette.”

“It’s time. We had a good six months. Had a fun run with the Challenger. But life is moving on, Reg. You’re a princess, for pity sakes.” Al motioned toward the shop. “Wally and Rafe cleared out their tools already.”

“Cleared out their tools?” Reggie set down her milk glass and peered into the shop. Sure enough, the walls and workbenches were all but empty.

“Rafe’s got a job interview with a shop over in Pensacola. It’s been around for thirty years. Good pay, good business. Wally told me last week, if it was all the same to me, he was finally ready to retire.”

“Hmm . . . well,”—she shoved up the sleeves of her shirt—“we were bound to lose Wally sooner or later. But Rafe? Why can’t he stay here and run things?” She couldn’t give up without some kind of fight.

“Reg, I turned Rafe onto the job. He’s young, probably going to get married soon if things keep going like they are with Carrie. Rafe needs more than we—I—can give him right now.”

“But we’re going to build the business.” Reggie turned back to the office. “Grow this up so we can pay talent like Rafe.”

“Reginator,” Al said, low and sweet, “you’re not coming back.”

“But I am.” She hammered her fist against her palm, proclaiming words her heart did not believe. “Sure, I won’t be here all the time, but I’ll be here enough. Think of what great publicity we can get by me being a princess. We can make it our brand, you know. Get your classic car refurbed by Princess Regina and Marine Master Sergeant Al Love.”