Then He Kissed Me: A Cottonbloom Novel (32 page)

“You never said you didn’t like him.”

“I was afraid if I voiced my disapproval, it would have only made you like him more. I’m glad you finally saw past his bad-boy act to the jerk underneath. You deserve a nice guy.”

She didn’t say anything. What was there to say? She rubbed the corner of her eye hoping Sawyer wouldn’t notice her unusual state of upheaval. Fat chance. He pulled her into a hug. Cade had been her rock growing up, but Sawyer had been her teddy bear. Always there with a shot of much-needed optimism and enthusiasm.

“Nash is a nice guy.” His chin moved to the top of her head.

“He knew I didn’t want him to fight, but he did it anyway. Behind my back.”

“All right, stupid about women, but he cares about you.” A smile was in his voice.

“I’m really mad at him right now.”

“Daddy used to go fishing when he and Mama had a fight. You remember?”

She pulled out of his hug. “They never fought.”

“They tried not to do it front of us kids, but they fought, all right.”

Her memories skewed. She didn’t doubt Sawyer. Of the three of them, he was the most intuitive about other people. “What did they fight about?”

“Money. Family. The usual. Daddy would disappear for a couple of hours in the boat. Mama would bake. By the time he came home with a cooler of fish, a pie or cake or cookies would be in the oven and they’d kiss and make up. It’s okay to be mad. Doesn’t mean you have to stay mad forever.”

“Why aren’t women beating down your door?” She was not asking rhetorically. Her brother was good-looking, considerate, and nice. Why weren’t the women of Cottonbloom staking a claim on him?

“Who says they’re not?” He squinted at the blue sky.

She hung out at his place enough to know they weren’t. Maybe he’d cycled through all the available women. Or had Regan Lovell ruined him so many years ago?

Before she had the chance to ask, he said, “I hope this incident isn’t going to affect the exhibition fight for the festival.”

She made no effort to disguise her eye roll. “Is the mudbug festival all you can think about?”

“I’d prefer you refer to it as the crayfish festival. Mudbug might turn off the city folk we’re trying to attract through our quaint slice of Americana here.”

“You’re going to make me wear overalls and go barefoot, aren’t you?”

“Would you?”

The hopeful tease in his voice drew a small smile to her face. “The exhibition is still on. Talk to Reed about it if you want.” She backed away.

“Where are you headed?” He was back to sounding worried.

It was as if their daddy was looking down on them. “To the river.”

Sawyer hesitated as if he wanted to say more, but nodded and let her go, pushing his hands into the pockets of his shorts.

She was mad at Nash, mad at herself, but mostly she was disappointed and hurt. It had taken a lot for her to trust Nash. And, she did—had. Did. She still trusted him and loved him, but knowing Nash had not been upfront with her was painful.

But could she really judge? She had hidden her dyslexia, the seriousness of Heath’s stalking, her loneliness from everyone. Shame had made her bury her secrets. Had Jack been right? Had the need to eradicate old shames driven Nash to fight Heath?

She parked at the end of the dead end street and took the path to the river. It had been a long time since she’d sought solace from the river. She dangled her feet over the side of the bank, but the water was too low to reach with her toes.

How could they leave the past behind them and focus on building a future when the past surrounded them?

The river flowed. The water, sparkling and new; but the banks, muddy and rife with exposed roots, were unchanging. Perhaps, that was the point. Not to leave the past behind, but to shore it up until it was strong enough to support the future.

“Hi there.”

Tally startled. Birdie popped out from behind a tree in shorts and a T-shirt with a rainbow-colored unicorn across the front.

“How do you do that? Do you have a network of underground tunnels?” Tally asked, only half-joking.

A perplexed expression came across the little girl’s face. “No, just walked up. You were thinking hard and didn’t hear me.” Birdie joined her on the bank. “Whatcha thinking about? A boy?”

“Maybe.” Amusement bubbled out of the stew of emotions upsetting her stomach, but she kept her response confined to a twitch of her lips.

“Is it Nash?” Birdie felt no such compulsion and gave her gap-toothed grin. The white jagged edges of new front teeth were pushing through her gums.

“Maybe.” Tally flashed the girl a smile before her amusement faded back into uncertainty. “We had a fight.”

“’Bout what?”

“About a fight, actually. A different sort of fight.”

“I heard Mr. Nash was planning to beat up some man at your gym. That what you’re talking about?”

Tally cocked a leg up on the bank to face Birdie. “Where’d you hear that?”

“Heard Daddy say. Apparently everyone is talking about it.” Birdie sounded so adultlike that Tally suppressed another smile. “Daddy hoped Nash won. Did he?”

“Neither one of them won, but Nash played by the rules, the man he fought didn’t.”

Tally had accepted that Heath Parsons was the kind of man she deserved. That her dyslexia was some penance she had to pay instead of a hurdle to overcome.

No longer. She deserved more. Better. Not just in her love life, but her life in general.

She’d worked hard and turned her gym into a thriving business. She had two brothers who loved her and friends who cared about her. And Nash. No matter how childish she considered the grudge he held against Heath, she understood it on some level, because wasn’t she being just as childish about her dyslexia?

“You’re a cool kid, Birdie. Do you know that?”

“Yeah.” Birdie nodded. “I know.”

Tally laughed so loud a pair of birds flew out of the trees across the river and the plop of frogs escaping to the water sounded below their feet. “You could be president, you know. Don’t let anyone tell you that you can’t. President Margaret Thatcher sounds good.”

“I like it too.” Birdie grinned. A whistle cut through the trees. “There’s Daddy. We’re going to town to get Mama a birthday present.”

Birdie took off like a wild animal through the trees before Tally had a chance to even wave. She hoped the little girl never lost her attitude that anything was possible. Somewhere between her parents’ deaths and her struggles in school, Tally had lost sight of the endless possibilities. Nash had helped open her eyes, but it was up to her to explore them.

A plan took shape as she stared into the flowing river. A plan she needed to implement on her own.

Chapter Seventeen

The week passed in fits and starts. She stayed busy, but Nash was never too far from her thoughts. The gym had been her only focus for years. Besides Ms. Effie and Monroe, she hadn’t developed relationships outside of her business. Or hobbies, for that matter. The gym had been her safe, comfortable place.

Her first order of business was to hire someone trustworthy to help her and Reed cover the early openings and late closings, so they could both have more time off. If her expansion plans had to be pushed out, then so be it. Or maybe she’d take Cade at his word and accept a loan.

Jack Hawthorne pushed through the doors with a smile. They shook hands before Tally gestured him around to the working side of the front desk.

“Can’t tell you how much I appreciate this. It’s slim pickings out there for a man my age.” He smoothed a hand over a crisp blue button-down to equally crisp khakis, his jitters obvious.

“Believe me, you’re doing us a solid.” She booted up the software that managed the memberships and payments. While the program loaded, she glanced over at Jack. “How’s Nash feeling?”

“His head is fine, but his heart ain’t doing so good. He’s tearing himself up about you. Not sure what to do.”

“He knows where to find me.”

A troubled look flashed over his face. “That’s what I told him.”

If Nash didn’t man up by the end of the week, she’d seek him out. But for now she had other things to focus on. “Now then, how are you with computers?”

The next hour passed with Tally teaching him the ins and outs of the system. While he told people Nash got his brains from his mama, the intensity he focused on each task reminded her of Nash.

While Reed showed Jack around the gym and explained the daily routines, Tally called to set up an appointment with a reading specialist for the next afternoon. The lady on the other end showed no surprise or shock or dismay that an adult was calling, and it settled the nervous rolling of her stomach. Taking charge felt good.

With the last of the evening crowd gone, Reed and Jack were completing the closing checklist. The bells over the door jangled. Tally looked up from the reading center’s brochure.

Ms. Leora stood in the doorway, wearing a dress and low heels, her pocketbook held in front of her like a shield.

Shock held Tally in place a few beats longer than was polite. “Ms. Leora, good evening.” She came around the desk and gestured the lady farther into the gym, but Ms. Leora remained planted, her gaze scanning the floor. “Nash isn’t here, if that’s who you’re looking for.”

Ms. Leora took a couple of shuffling steps forward, stumbling on the edge of a rubberized mat. Tally caught her arm, steadying her.

“Is Jack here?” She sounded flustered.

“He’s in the back. Let me—”

“Wait.” She clamped Tally’s upper arm, her hand cool and soft. “I’m sorry for everything, Tallulah.”

Ms. Leora’s eyes were the same soft, encompassing brown as Nash’s. Tally had never noticed. Years of regrets and resentments seemed to melt like cotton candy left in the sun.

“It’s all right.” She patted the hand still wrapped around her arm.

Forgiveness was easy to find. Maybe it was because she was no longer playing a victim to her own life. Maybe it grew from the love she’d discovered through and in Nash. Maybe it was true that time healed all wounds. All she knew for sure was that sides had shifted. The river no longer separated her from Ms. Leora. Their love for Nash and Delmar united them.

Ms. Leora grabbed for her hand and squeezed. “I’m worried about Nash.”

The warm fuzzies turned frigid. “What’s happened?”

“I overheard Nash on the phone. He and that man might be fighting again tonight. I thought he might be here.”

“Why is he doing this?” she muttered between clamped teeth. Louder, she called, “Jack. Reed.”

The two men walked from the storage area, their heads close, laughter trailing faintly to them. It dried up when Jack noticed Ms. Leora. He quick-stepped toward them. “What’s going on? It’s Nash, isn’t it?”

Ms, Leora’s hands tightened on her pocketbook, the patent leather squeaking. Tally pointed at Jack. “Apparently, your son has set up a rematch with Heath. Either of you know about this?”

Reed mouthed a curse and ran both hands over his hair while Jack shook his head and said, “I had a feeling something was going on, but no, he didn’t mention it.”

“To me either,” Reed said. “Told him to steer clear of Heath and his crew.”

“If not here, where would they go?” Tally asked. The four of them exchanged glances, but no one had anything to offer.

Tally slid her phone out of her back pocket and hit Sawyer’s name.

“What’s up, Sis?” Sawyer’s voice was teasing but tired.

“Do you know anything about Nash and Heath having a rematch tonight?”

“Nope. Haven’t heard anything.”

She rubbed her forehead. “Any ideas where they would go? Another gym, maybe?”

“Sit tight. Let me see what I can find out.” He disconnected, and Tally tapped the phone against her chin. Without anyone having his back, things might end very badly for Nash. Hadn’t he learned the hard way that Heath didn’t follow the rules?

Her phone buzzed, and she bobbled it before regaining control and hitting the button. “Tell me you found something out.”

“I did.” Her brother sounded grim, which threw some wood on the anxious fire making her muscles twitch. “Get down to my place. We’ll have to take my truck.”

“They’re out in the swamps?” She tried to massage the lump out of her throat.

“Not quite that dire, but we might need four-wheel drive.”

“On my way.” She hit the red end button.

“I’m coming with you,” Jack said.

“Reed, can you lock up and then walk Ms. Leora to her car?” Tally was halfway to the door.

“Tallulah.” Her name quivered out of Ms. Leora’s throat. “Will you call and let me know?”

Tally almost gave the woman a hug, but settled on patting her shoulder. “I will. He’ll be fine. I’ll make sure of it.” The confidence in her voice felt false.

She and Jack made the drive to Sawyer’s farmhouse in relative silence. She parked by the willow tree and ran up the steps.

Sawyer met her on the porch, truck keys in hand. “Let’s hit it.”

He and Jack exchanged brief greetings while they piled into Sawyer’s truck. She took the middle, straddling the gearshift. “Where are they?”

“A track of land out in the boonies where we used to have bonfires and party in high school.”

“You mean out behind old man Benson’s cotton field?”

Sawyer side-eyed her. “How would you know?”

“Puh-lease. I’m surprised we didn’t run across each other at some point or other.”

He harrumphed, but amusement superseded any disapproval.

They were silent the rest of the way. The truck rocked back and forth through washed-out ruts, the headlights illuminating recent tracks of other tires. She gripped the edge of the dashboard. Heath and his buddies could gang up on Nash and pulverize him. Who would stop them? She scooched on her seat as if she could move them along faster.

Dim light shone through the trees. The bonfire outlined a dozen or more people milling around and a wall of backs on one side. Yells carried on the air. Sawyer pulled to a stop along a row of mud-splattered trucks. As soon as feet hit the ground, she ran.

By the time she squeezed through the wall of backs, she was out of breath from exertion and fear.