Simple Gone South (Crimson Romance) (26 page)

Maybe they would take a little trip. Yes. That would be fun. They’d had fun the day they’d gone to Nashville to Christmas shop and this would be even better. He’d get on planning that—right after he hauled all those boxes and bags of dishes and gewgaws over to the church for Big Mama and Lucy. Tonight was the flower guild Christmas party and, the way he understood it, they decorated tables and there was a prize for the best one. Lucy seemed to be helping Big Mama and when he had asked what about Lucy’s own table, she had laughed. “
I
don’t have a table. There are only eight and somebody has to die or choose you to take theirs over. I will never have a table of my own.” Big Mama had looked thoughtful and said, “You never know.”

He’d have to go back after the party and haul all that stuff back but, meanwhile, he was going down to Tiptoe Watkins’s barn, where the Rotary Club was building the Santa Claus float for the Christmas parade. Charles had been asking him to come by and Luke, Nathan, and Harris would be there. He wasn’t in Rotary, of course, but he probably would be after he told them he was staying in town. No one knew that yet, not even Lucy.

It might be time to figure out when he was going to do that.

Yeah.

• • •

Three days before Christmas and the morning before the Christmas parade, Brantley entered his grandmother’s house to ask her to make good on a promise. Evelyn, wearing a Christmas sweater with blinking lights, was singing carols to the top of her lungs as she dropped divinity on wax paper. Evelyn loved Christmas. She gave him a piece of still soft divinity sandwiched between two pecan halves and admonished him to “Be sweet.”

That’s exactly what he intended to do.

He found Caroline in the study, sitting beside the Christmas tree, with a notepad and a stack of Christmas cards in her lap.

“Hello, darling.” She lifted her cheek for his kiss. Could she really be as genuinely happy to see him as it seemed? Would she always? He pushed that thought aside. He was not here today for confessions. It might be unfair to ask for what he wanted without confessing, but fair or not, he wasn’t going to do it. Yet. But soon. After he had glued the family back together a little better. “I was just enjoying the tree, reading some cards, and making a list of a few last minute things.”

He sat down in the easy chair opposite hers—the one Papa used to sit in. Usually he avoided that chair but today it felt right.

“I don’t see how you could have anything left to write on a list,” he said. “There’s not room for one more present under that tree or one spot in this house that needs decorating.”

She laughed and laid aside her reading glasses. “There’s always something else to do at Christmas—at least there has been this year.”
This year
. Yes, because he was here and Lucy had put them back together. Christmases in these past years must have been as empty for Charles and Caroline as they had been for him.

Guilt tried to settle in on him but he turned it away. He couldn’t do anything about it then, but he could now.

“It’s been wonderful this year, hasn’t it?” she said wistfully.

“Yes.” And to his surprise that was true.

“Did you have fun at your dinner out with your friends last weekend?”

“Yes.” It had not been a fancy meal. They had—kids, babies, and all—gone down to Birmingham for a big, loud, messy Mexican meal. Kirby, who was home for winter break, had joined them. He had a girl with him, who the women grilled and the men tried to rescue. “After we had dinner, we drove around in a caravan and looked at Christmas lights. Missy declared it a success so it must have been. She says it’s our new Christmas tradition. Of course, Missy declares a new tradition about as often as the wind changes direction.”

“Still,” Big Mama said, “tradition is nice. History . . . a feeling of belonging. You are all lucky that Missy has appointed herself the gatekeeper for your friendships and traditions.”

“You’ve got that right. She’s the gatekeeper. She decides who gets in and nobody gets out.”

He regretted it as soon as he said it. Big Mama laughed but there was a little sadness hanging around in the background. Big Mama had been the gatekeeper for their family, but he’d been the gate crasher. And now, she was probably wondering if she would ever have another holiday season like this one, or if he’d be off in New England, New Orleans, or Timbuktu, where he might or might not allow her and Charles to meet him at a restaurant on Christmas Day.

It was time. “Big Mama,” he said quietly, “You are the first to hear this. I have told no one else, not even Dad. A long time ago you told me that when the time came, I could choose an engagement ring from the family jewelry. That time has come. Is that promise still good?”

“Well—” He had never seen Caroline Brantley look so befuddled; come to think of it, he’d never seen her look befuddled at all. And her face had gone white. “Well, darling, of course. Yes. But—”

“But what?”

“But
who
, Brantley?”

She was kidding, right? “Who? Lucy, of course. Who did you think?”

She put her hands up palms out and closed her eyes. “I didn’t think. I mean to say, it’s been such a short time with you and Lucy, that I was afraid . . . I mean, I thought it was possible that . . .”

Even after all this time, she would not say it, would not criticize his choices.

But he would. He crossed to where she sat and settled on the ottoman. “I am not going to marry Rita May, Big Mama. I am never going back to Rita May. I have not heard from her, seen her, or thought about her. It’s all Lucy.”

She didn’t look much happier. “I see.”

Oh, hell, no. Rita May was one thing. She deserved to be disliked; she got up in the morning begging for it. But Lucy was another. “I thought you liked Lucy,” he said coldly.

She looked up, shocked. “Like Lucy? My darling, I
love
Lucy. So does your father. We
adore
her. It’s just that it’s been such a short time. Are you sure?”

“Not so short,” he said. “I know we haven’t been strictly involved long, but we’ve known each other since we were kids. It’s not like I met her last month.”

Caroline was nodding now, getting some of her color back. “And Lucy is open to this? You aren’t rushing her?”

Rushing her? “No. I know my mind and I know Lucy’s.”

He was on the verge of asking if he was getting a ring or wasn’t he? Though it wasn’t really a question of
getting
a ring. Because he was getting a ring. Today. Asa Reed would sell him any ring he wanted without all these questions. He just wasn’t sure if he was getting a family ring. And if Caroline couldn’t be on board one hundred percent, he didn’t want one.

“Well, all right then,” she said. “As long as you are both sure. That said, I cannot begin to tell you how happy this makes me.” And she did look happy. Finally. She leaned over to embrace him. “And I know Charles will feel the same. Of course, you will have any ring you want, save the one on my finger. And that will come soon enough.” She held out her hand where she still wore the engagement and wedding rings that Papa had given her.

“Not soon,” Brantley said. “You’re going to be around a long time. And,” he said slowly, “I am going to be here with you. In Merritt. When the Brantley Building is finished, I will have to set up my office, of course. I’ll need a place. I know you said you were going to use Papa’s old office, but I thought—”

And she began to cry. “No. I don’t need an office. I never needed an office. Of course, you will have it. Brantley, this is just the best Christmas gift anyone could have given me. Lucy, you staying here, the office . . . oh, and the wedding!”

Okay. Enough. “First things first,” he said. “About that ring . . .”

She wiped her tears and looked thoughtful. “Yes. About that. Brantley, have you thought of—”

Oh, what now? “Of what?”

“Have you thought of your mother’s rings?”

Oh, damn. Oh, hell. Did not see
that
coming. His heart began to race and his head spun. Sweating now. Breathe. Didn’t see it coming at all.

And Big Mama wasn’t seeing it. “Eva had such lovely rings. I don’t know if you ever paid much attention. Charles bought the antique Edwardian setting and had it set with the rubies and diamonds.” She went on talking about rose gold, the quality of the stones, Lucy’s taste, and how pleased Charles would be.

And he went on sweating. Deep breaths. Chills and heat.

And there was no Lucy here to save him, to calm him, to make him not crazy.

Breathe. Pretend it’s not happening. Show it who’s boss.

Finally, he found his voice. “I had really thought a diamond ring. Not colored stones.” Surely, there was a ring like that in that stash.

Big Mama smiled brightly. “Then let’s go to the bank. Just let me get my key to the safe deposit box.”

Lucy smoothed her green velvet tunic and found her assigned place in the parade lineup. Besides the three of them, Lanie had drafted ten others to give out the candy; they were to march at staggered intervals along the parade route and hand the lollipops directly to the children, one per child. They were also to skip and smile. If they could kick up their toes and ring the bells on their shoes, that would be even better.

Lanie had allowed Missy to make the rules and instruct the volunteers. Lanie had, however, denied her a bullhorn.

Lucy practiced a little skip step and put a bell ringing motion in it. Not bad. Now with the other foot.

Strong arms caught her from behind. “How about a little elven magic?”

And that warm caramel voice poured over her, melting her into nothing. And nothing would be what she’d be left with next year. She had given up trying to protect herself, had decided that Christmas was magic, and she was just going to let the magic happen. Determined to not let thoughts of next year ruin this year, she turned in his arms.

“What have you been up to today?” She hadn’t heard from him since early this morning, when he’d woken her with his tongue applied just so . . .

“Oh, this and that.” He whistled a little and turned his face up, pretending to study the night sky.

That probably meant he’d been shopping for a Christmas gift for her. In addition to the photo album she’d made for him, she had found a set of antique drafting tools. They would look neat hanging on the wall, if he ever settled down.

“This
and
that? You’ve been busy.” She toyed with a button on his shirt. “I might have expected this
or
that. Never both.”

He laughed. “See, here’s the trick. Schedule it in your DayRunner and it happens. I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“Brantley!” Missy was barreling toward them with a clipboard in hand and the bell on her pointed elf hat ringing. “Let her go! It’s time for the parade to start. Get up there on that sidewalk!” And she ran past, no doubt, to lay down the law to the rest of the elves.

“I guess I’d better get up there on that sidewalk.” His amber eyes were as bright as his smile. “Though it’s hard to take a woman in an elf hat seriously, even if she does have a clipboard.”

“I’ll see you at the high school for the party after.”

He kissed her nose. “I’ll be waiting for you at the end of the route. Can’t have elf girls wandering around town, left to get to parties on their own. They might get stolen.”

He walked away, but turned to give her a little wave before he blended into the crowd.

Moments like this made her wonder if it might be barely possible that . . .

The band struck up “Jingle Bells”—the signal that the parade had begun.

• • •

The after parade party, held in the high school gym, was given by the Rotary to thank everyone who had had anything to do with the parade, from marching cub scouts to the largest corporate sponsor. Consequently, it seemed like most of the town was there. It wasn’t an elaborate party. Who had time to make decorations and fancy food with all the effort that had just gone into the parade and with Christmas three days away? But there was pizza, cookies, soft drinks, and punch. Santa was handing out candy to the children who had been in the parade, and the Merritt High band was playing background music. There would be a few speeches, but mostly this event was about visiting with neighbors.

Brantley steered Lucy to a large table near the portable stage where the other book club girls were sitting. Beau and Emma played nearby, wearing their mothers’ elf hats.

Brantley pulled a chair out for Lucy. “Ladies,” he greeted the table. “What fine elves you are. Where are your menfolk?”

“Doing what menfolk do,” Tolly answered. “Hunting. For pizza.”

Brantley looked around and sighed. “Then I shall do the same.” He dropped a kiss on Lucy’s mouth. “I will return triumphant. No woman of mine will go hungry, no matter how many boy scouts and baton twirlers I have to take out.”

When he had gone, they all turned and smiled.

“What?” Lucy said.

“This is it,” Lanie said. “I’ve got a feeling.”

“I’ve got more than a feeling,” Missy said. “I drove by your house today, Lucy, and Charles Kincaid was out there cleaning up the leaves in your yard.”

“What?” Lucy said. What she wanted to say was
What in the hell?
But there were children present.

Missy shrugged. “I’m just telling you what I saw.”

“I am so embarrassed.” Lucy covered her face. “I know I should have taken care of that. And it got so bad that Charles cleaned them up. But I’ve been so busy.”

They all laughed. “Busy with Brantley,” Tolly said. “I think Charles is just trying to show you that he approves.”

“I don’t know about Charles, but I certainly do,” Missy said. “I get down on my knees and thank God every night. It has been a hard job worrying about who Brantley was going to end up with.”

“Brantley has not ended up with—” Lucy began but stopped because the guys returned with pizza just as the mayor took the stage.

“I got you veggie and a water,” Brantley whispered, as he settled in next to her with his Coke and pepperoni and sausage.

At least no one could comment on how he had learned her ways because the mayor was speaking practically on top of their heads.