The Hopechest Bride (15 page)

A peaceful place.

A place Toby Atkins didn't belong, not for at least another fifty years.

“I love you, buddy, and I miss you,” Josh said, then turned away, headed back toward his truck, parked on the narrow macadam drive that wound through the cemetery.

Someone was standing beside his truck, a man dressed in the same sort of uniform Toby had worn with such pride. A blue-and-white police car was parked behind the truck, as if the officer had stopped to check up on the strange vehicle in his town's cemetery.

“Afternoon, Officer,” Josh called out, donning his black Stetson once more, narrowing his eyelids as he
looked at a kid as young and fuzzy-cheeked and earnest as Toby had been. “Can I help you?”

The officer leisurely pushed himself away from the side bumper of the truck, his hand held out to Josh. “You're Toby's brother, right? I think I remember you from the funeral. Good to see you.”

“Good to see you,” Josh answered automatically. “You worked with Toby?”

“Oh, yeah, we all did. One hell of a sheriff, one hell of a guy. See the flowers?”

Josh involuntarily looked over his shoulder, toward the headstone. “Yes, I saw them. Why?”

“Oh, no reason. Get new ones every week, you know, from that Emma Logan—Emily Colton, I mean. Regular as rain, every week, new flowers. She's got some sort of deal set up with Flossie, down at the flower shop. Isn't that something? He was crazy about her, you know. Just crazy about her.”

Josh ducked his head, a muscle working in his left cheek. “Yes, I'd heard that. He was in love with her.”

“Love? That so?” The officer reached up a hand, scratched under his hat. “Don't know how's I'd exactly call it love. More a sort of worshippin' from afar, as my wife called it. He had that girl on such a pedestal, none of us think he'd have known how to handle it if she ever even hinted that she wanted…you know, more?”

Josh rubbed at his forehead, kept his eyes averted. “So they didn't…date?”

“Date? Good God, no. Toby drank coffee at the café, took to visiting her at night, checking up on her safety he called it. But that's it. He knew it wasn't going anywhere, but that was all right by him. My wife thought it was really romantic, you know? Women, what do they know, right? Well, I gotta get moving. School lets out soon, and with old man Baxter laid up with a broken leg, I'm in charge of the school crossing on Seventh.” He tipped his hat, headed for his truck, calling back to Josh, “Nice seeing you. And don't you worry none, we're still watching over Toby, and always will.”

“Thank you,” Josh said, then watched as the squad car backed up, pulled out onto the narrow roadway and drove away. “I mean it, you know,” he said after the officer was gone. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

It was time to pack up Toby's things. Sort them out, give his clothes to the local charity, donate the furniture, hand the key back to the landlord. It was time to accept what couldn't be changed, and get on with life. Never to forget his brother, never to fully get over the loss, but definitely time to let go of the bad, start reaching for the good. Wasting his own life wouldn't bring back his brother, wouldn't honor the memory of his brother. Even a fool such as himself knew that.

Suddenly, he knew a lot of things.

Toby hadn't loved Emily, he hadn't understood her. If he had, he'd know that she was a woman, all
woman, and that the last thing she needed, or wanted, was to be put on a pedestal, worshipped as if she were some fragile angel who couldn't be touched for fear she'd melt away.

Emily needed to be loved, everyone needed to be loved, but she also needed to feel alive, desired, not worshipped. She was flesh and blood, not gossamer.

And she'd been right. If Silas Pike had never come to Keyhole, if Josh had come instead, to visit his brother, he would never have walked away, leaving Toby to his first puppy love, and Emily to her pedestal.

He would have moved in, taken, shown Emily desire, fed their mutual hunger. And sure, it would have hurt Toby. For a while. There would have been no avoiding that.

But it would have happened. As sure as he knew his own name, he knew Emily was right, and it would have happened. She was his other half, she was the spark that made him come alive, she was feelings and needs and even demands, and he had recognized her the moment he first saw her, because even without knowing it, he'd been looking for her all of his life.

So what the hell was he doing with motel reservations in Tulsa?

Not much. Not with his truck heading toward California.

M
eredith snuggled close to Joe, her cheek against his chest, sated and happy in the afterglow of loving. They were like newlyweds again, making love every night, sometimes during the day, when Joe would come find her, take her hand, lead her to the bedroom.

They laughed, even giggled together, couldn't get enough of each other.

And the deep worry lines around Joe's mouth had begun to soften. The nightmares had disappeared, both his and hers. They fell asleep in each other's arms, woke happy to greet each new day.

But this grand new life, this second chance, was not without its worries. Life was never without wor
ries, Meredith knew. Still, shared worries were easier to carry.

And shared joys were that much happier.

“Emily's smiling again,” she said as Joe yawned into his hand. Honestly, the man seemed to think he could survive on five hours of sleep a night and considerable “exercise” while in his bed. Not that Meredith was complaining. “Joe? Did you hear me? I said, Emily's smiling again. And eating.”

“You didn't say that the first time. The part about eating,” Joe told her, ruffling her hair. “See? And you accused me of not listening.”

“My apologies,” Meredith told him, snuggling closer. “But you do agree with me, don't you? Martha won't say anything, and I don't expect her to breach a confidence, but I think she also believes Emily is coming to grips with what happened, beginning to get on with her life.”

“We all knew she would,” Joe said. “Emily bounces, she doesn't break.”

“And Emily is in love,” Meredith told him, just because he sounded so smug. “You knew that, too, didn't you?”

Joe moved to sit up against the headboard, slightly dislodging Meredith from her comfortable position. “In love? With whom? The only person I can even think of is Josh Atkins, and they only went out to dinner that one time before he left town so it couldn't be— Is it him?”

“Liza thinks so, and unlike Martha, she isn't bound
by professional privilege. You know, I'd like to be around to plan at least one of my daughters' weddings. Not that I would ever picture Emily wanting a huge wedding.”

“How do you women do it?” Joe asked, sitting up even straighter. “One date, and you're planning a wedding. I barely know this boy.”

“It's not you who has to know him, Joe. Or don't you trust Emily to make good decisions?”

“Got me again, didn't you?” Joe said, sighing, pretending to be insulted. “So, if you're right, and Emily and Josh
are
going to get together, all I can say is that I'm glad my tux still fits. It's gotten quite a workout lately.”

“I always thought you looked so handsome in formal wear, darling,” Meredith told him, reaching up to pat his cheek. “Even if those tight collars always make your face go a little red.”

“A little— Hey! I thought you said I looked handsome.”

“And you do, you do, but you're twice as handsome in a soft shirt and a nice sweater. More cuddly.”

“Cuddling's good,” Joe said, reaching for her, but Meredith held him away, knowing she had something else to tell him. She'd saved the news all day, holding it close, waiting until Joe was relaxed, ready to listen.

“Austin phoned earlier today,” she said, which effectively halted Joe's next romantic move. “He has some news.”

“Already? I didn't think he'd be this quick. Good
or bad news?” Joe asked, pulling back the covers, slipping his arms into his bathrobe. “No, wait, let me get a drink of water, and I'll be right back.”

Meredith just nodded, knowing he was using the excuse of being thirsty in order to give himself time to shift gears, talk about anything that had even remotely to do with Patsy. If it were up to Joe, Patsy's name would never be mentioned again in this house, in his lifetime.

“Okay,” he said a few moments later, reentering the room from the bathroom. “What did Austin have to say?”

Meredith also got out of bed, pulled on her dressing gown and came to sit with Joe at the bottom of the mattress. “He says he thinks he may have found Jewel.”

Joe took a sip of water, then held on to the glass with both hands. “Okay. Now the big question, Meredith. Was she already looking for Patsy?”

“Yes,” Meredith said, her eyes stinging with tears. “Yes, she was. So now we have to decide, Joe. We have to decide if Jewel should know about Patsy, about Ellis Mayfair. It's a lot to handle, for anyone.”

“And it's not really our decision, sweetheart,” Joe told her, looking deeply into Meredith's eyes. “Is it?”

“No, I suppose not. And there are Joe, Jr. and Teddy, Jewel's half brothers. How can we deny any of them that sort of knowledge?”

Joe slipped his arm around Meredith's shoulders.
“Looks like all our questions are already answered, sweetheart, and any decisions already made. I'll phone Austin in the morning, let him get the ball rolling. Where is she, this Jewel?”

“Ohio. Medford, Ohio. A long, long way from Prosperino. She was adopted—Austin called it a black-market adoption—and her adoptive parents kept the name she was given, Jewel Mayfair, and added their own name, Baylor, to the mix. The bad news is we can't go after the terrible lawyer who forged all the necessary papers that made it seem legal for Jewel to be placed for adoption, because it all happened so long ago. He would have had to know that Ellis was dead, that Patsy was in jail. So he'd have had to have forged any signatures.”

“Yes. Ellis must have had the papers all drawn up before the birth, so only the name and sex had to be filled out the day Jewel was born, the same day Ellis delivered her to the lawyer. And the lawyer would have had adoptive parents all set and ready to go, and collected all the money, including Ellis's share. Nice day's work, the bastard.”

Meredith nodded, for Joe had said much the same things Austin had said, both men having come to the same conclusions. “But the Baylors probably never knew they were part of anything illegal.”

Sighing, Joe drew Meredith closer to him. “Well, that's all water under the bridge, as the saying goes. Jewel has to be in her early thirties now, and Austin says she is searching for her birth mother. So we bring
her here, as our guest, and break it to her gently about her parents once we've welcomed her to the family. Because she is family. Can you handle this, babe?”

Meredith slipped her arms around Joe's waist, gave him a squeeze. “I can handle anything, darling, as long as I have you. And I already told Austin you'd probably be phoning him in the morning. It's nice to know that I still know you so well. You've a good heart, Joe Colton. A good heart.”

 

Thanksgiving morning dawned bright and sunny after two straight days of rain, which was a good thing, because the younger members of the Colton family had all begun suffering some fairly major cabin fever and needed to be outside, playing off some of their built-up energy.

Joe, Jr. and Teddy had already escaped to the lawn with Rand's adopted son, Max, five years old and a perpetual motion machine in jeans and a Washington Redskins sweatshirt. Joe had brought along his football, and the three were throwing—and mostly chasing after—the ball, laughing and giggling and pretty much being all-American kids. When Wyatt and Annie Russell's twin sons, Alex and Noah, joined the other boys, and Drake, Wyatt, and Rand got into the action, the game truly was on.

Inside, in the spacious living room, Thad Law's daughter, Brittany, was, at the ripe old age of nearly five, putting herself in charge of Sophie's daughter, Meggie, and Drake and Maya's beautiful little girl
Marissa. It was Brittany who doled out rattles and balls, and then took them away again when the mood struck her. Lana Reilly, pregnant with twins, sat on one of the couches, shaking her head at the scene. “And I thought someday I wanted six or more children? I believe I'm going to have to rethink that one and get back to you all later, say when the twins are in kindergarten.”

Sophie James reached down to bring her unhappy child up and onto her lap, handing over her daughter's favorite thing in the whole world, her rawhide teething ring. “Oh, don't plan that far ahead, Lana,” she told her. “Motherhood, I'm learning, is pretty much a one-day-at-a-time thing, at least when they're this young. Now, if you want to start talking braces and college funds, well, that's when River and I start getting the shivers.”

Liza walked into the room and collapsed into one of the overstuffed chairs. “Whew, that's one down, hopefully to sleep for at least an hour. Thank heavens that child of mine still believes in morning naps. You know, ladies,” she said, gazing down at the chubby-cheeked children on the carpet, “we really have to get a family photograph. Wide-angle lens, of course, to get us all in.”

“Especially me,” Lana said, putting both hands on her swollen belly. “Where are Emily and Amber? Don't you think they'd want to baby-sit, so that we can all head for the kitchen and another cup of tea? It would be good practice, especially for Amber.”

“Amber? Baby-sit?” Sophie said, smiling at the babies. “I don't think she's planning this far ahead yet. But wait, maybe we have a volunteer,” she said as Emily wandered into the room. “Em? Want to baby-sit while the rest of us girls run off to some warm, tropical island?”

“Or the kitchen, which is closer,” Lana said. “I'm not quite built for bikinis right now.”

Emily laughed, then sat down on the floor beside Brittany, who was stacking blocks for Maya's daughter's edification. “You know, we've got people missing for Thanksgiving dinner, but everyone has promised to be here for Christmas. Can you imagine the madhouse? Mom's loving every minute of it. She and Inez are in the kitchen now, basting two of the biggest turkeys I've ever seen. Amber's setting the table, and I came to hide out in here, sort of blend in with the crowd, hoping nobody finds me and puts me to work.”

As if on cue, Meredith walked into the living room, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Emily? There's a huge bag of vegetables in the refrigerator with your name on it. How about cutting up some carrots and celery?”

“Oh, darn, Meredith, the one thing I'm good at, and you're giving the job away,” Martha Wilkes said, entering from the foyer, Tatania holding tightly to her hand. “Tatania? Would you like to stay with the babies while I help out in the kitchen?”

Emily looked at Martha's foster child, soon to be
legally adopted child, and her heart melted. What a sweetheart! Dainty, quite petite, with huge light brown eyes framed by the thickest, longest, most curly lashes she'd ever seen. Tatania looked at the people sitting together in a group, then up at Martha. “Can't I stay with you?”

Martha bent down, so that she was face-to-face with Tatania. “Sure, sweetheart, you can stay with me. But you don't have to. You can do anything you want.”

Tatania tipped her head to one side, obviously in deep thought, for she'd been given a choice. Better, she'd been given the right to choose. “Okay, then I'll go back outside and watch the football game. They're funny.”

She turned and ran toward the door, Martha calling after her that she shouldn't forget her jacket, and then the doctor looked at the assembled women and shook her head. “I'm learning who you all are, and rather proud of that fact, but I'm not quite sure just who goes with whom. So…which one is Chance?”

“He's mine,” Lana said, not quite able to keep the pride out of her voice.

“Oh, really? Well, in that case, maybe you ought to know that he made a wonderful, diving catch just as Tatania and I arrived, then landed face-first in a rather large mud puddle. Then your husband,” she said, turning to Sophie, “piled on top of him, and the two started rolling around in the mud. By the time I
could pull Tatania away, I believe Joe, Jr. and little Max had joined in.”

“Oh, this I've got to see,” Sophie said, getting up from her seat, holding Meggie on her hip as she headed toward the front door. “Ladies, shall we all go take a look? And hope that the garden hose is still connected out front, so we can wash them all off?”

Emily stayed where she was as everyone else gathered up babies and went to see what was going on outside, her knees bent beneath her as she gathered blocks and began stacking them.

“Emily?” Martha said, coming over to the couch and sitting down for a moment. “How are you doing today?”

“Fine,” Emily said brightly. Too brightly. “That is, I'm okay.”

Martha nodded her head. “Lots of couples here today, aren't there?”

“Hanging from the rafters,” Emily agreed, knocking down the small tower of blocks. “I've asked Amber to set a place for me at the kiddie table.”

“Because you're the only one without a partner?”

“Yeah,” Emily said, getting to her feet. “Something like that.”

Martha rubbed a hand over her mouth, looked up at Emily, her friend and patient. “Holidays can be a hard time to be alone, Emily. This isn't a setback, it's a rite of passage.”

“I know, and I'll be fine,” Emily assured her. “But I had this little…fantasy. I thought I could in
troduce Josh to everyone today. I guess that isn't going to happen.”

“It may never happen, Emily. You know that, we've discussed that.”

Emily squeezed her hands together in front of her. “Oh, I'm just so
mad
at him! How can he know what we had and then walk away? I mean, fine, great, go somewhere, get your head screwed on straight. That's okay. But then come back. Even if it's only to say ‘Sorry, Emily, this isn't going to work out.' He could at least have done
that,
couldn't he? Don't I deserve at least
that?
”

Martha stood up, put an arm around Emily's shoulders and said wryly, “Well, it would appear we've passed beyond the self-pitying and mourning stage, and gone on to anger. Believe it or not, Emily, acceptance comes next.”