What She Wanted (23 page)

I zipped the invitation into my camera bag and headed for the Baxter place. The walk was beautiful and well shaded by leafy overhanging trees, my favorite kind of routes in July. A number of cars lined the Baxters’ drive and the street out front of their property. It was a great day to enjoy the butterfly garden and walk the paths throughout the property.

Sounds of playing children met me at the mailbox. If Mrs. B was too busy for a chat today, leading tours or answering questions about the insects, I could still get plenty of good shots, maybe a few of her in action. People loved seeing happy children in photos and most parents had no trouble signing off on the rights for ads like the brochure.

I hefted my camera from the bag and took a shot of the front door. A hand painted “Welcome” sign hung overhead. A beautiful monarch took the place of the letter O.

I wandered into the office and took another couple shots of the walls and desk. The first floor rooms of her old farmhouse had been renovated many years ago, transformed into a museum and information center on butterfly awareness, specifically monarchs, various swallowtails, and other native Ohio species.

Each first floor room served a purpose in the Baxters’ quest to inform and delight. Benches and folding chairs filled the space, just beyond the office, where a projector played an education video on a loop for self-guided tours. The other rooms had brightly colored walls with murals of trees and plants, all labeled for their part in a butterfly’s life. Framed posters of butterfly life cycles, food webs, and fun facts ran the perimeter of the room, just below eye level, so guests of all ages could get a prime look. Bins of plush butterflies sat beside tables with matching games and small mesh tents where Mrs. B displayed her catch of the day. The day’s mascot was new every morning, caught after breakfast and released at closing.

My heart swelled with each step through the home. I had wonderful memories of field trips to the garden and picnics along the trails with Heidi’s family. The memories before those were even sweeter. Grandma and I had often walked to the butterfly garden together and visited Mrs. B upstairs, in her private quarters. The ladies had coffee and I always had ice cream. I’d felt like the most important girl in the world on those days. The second floor was large and roomy, complete with overstuffed couches and whimsical décor to match her warm and jovial personality. Nothing like the severe, broken-down things Mark had chosen for our home. The Baxter grandchildren were more fortunate than they knew.

I followed the sounds of laughter through the rear exit and into the first phase of the garden, where wide paver stones made it easy for wheelchairs and strollers to travel. Moms and children wandered the paths lined in flora the butterflies loved. I snapped pictures as I moved, getting in closer to my subjects than I’d dared before. Their antennae and legs were unbelievably frail looking.

I zoomed in and marveled at a Black Swallowtail’s proboscis, a curly, straw-like thing used to siphon plant nectar. “Gotcha,” I whispered. The insect took flight, and I shaded my eyes to see where it went. There was something magical about the way butterflies moved. Their beautifully painted, paper-thin wings could carry them high into the sky and deliver them gracefully onto the most delicate leaf with little more than a jostle. I had trouble walking in sneakers. My feet were too big and my limbs were too long for any measure of grace. If I had wings, I’d be a trainwreck.

My phone buzzed. Heidi appeared on the screen with both hands forming peace signs and a giant pink bubble-gum bubble masking half her face. I balanced the phone between one ear and shoulder. “Why aren’t you texting? Is this an emergency? Is Tom Hiddleston single again?”

She made a dreamy sigh. “Not yet, but celebrity women are stupid, so I just have to wait for her to see a squirrel and run the other way.”

I sat on an empty park bench along the path and stowed my camera for safety. Sometimes it took Heidi a minute to remember why she’d called.

“Oh! Hey. No fair with the Hiddleston mention. I almost forgot. I got an invitation to the gala.”

“Me, too.”

“Are you going? You have to. What will you wear? You can borrow something of mine. Is it black tie? When I shop, do I think prom, wedding, or fancy dinner? Never mind. Mom will know. I’ll ask her, and we can raid her closet if needed. She’s a fancy dress junkie.”

“I didn’t think I was going until the invitation got here, but now I want to see it. I probably should offer to work that night. She can’t do it alone. She has to hostess. Besides, how often will I have the opportunity to attend a Sylvia Reynolds gala?”

“Oh, you have to go. Going is mandatory. You’re my guide to all things photography. Are you inviting Dean?”

I twisted a loose thread from my shirt around one finger. Memories of our kiss after the scrimmage and then later when he dropped me off hijacked my thoughts.

“Hello, Katy?” Heidi’s singsong voice taunted. “Yoo-hoo.”

“Sorry.”

“You were thinking about kissing him, right? Please tell me you don’t classify what I witnessed as ‘nice.’ You said the water tower kiss was ‘nice.’ I’m just sayin’, what I saw was hot and a little awkward for me, but I’m not going to lie. I watched.”

I laughed. Children turned my way and smiled. “No. I happen to agree with you on that. Not nice at all.”

“Tell me more.”

“I’m at the butterfly garden taking promotional photos. There are children.”

“Gotcha. The story is at least PG-13, and I will arrange quiet, big-girl time as soon as possible so you can tell me if you’ve had an opportunity to bounce stuff off his stomach. I mean, it’s military grade ridiculous. Who looks like that?”

“I have to go. I’ll call you when I’m finished and we’ll shop for the gala.”

She squealed in agreement and hung up on me.

“Bye,” I told the phone as I pushed it back into my pocket.

Mr. B appeared at the tree line, holding a baby to his chest and whistling his way down the path toward the building. His eyes lit up when he noticed me. “Hello, Katy.”

“Hi, Mr. B.” I pushed onto my feet and went to meet him halfway.

The baby fussed, and Mr. B bounced lightly on his shiny black shoes in response. “I stopped at home to see this little angel before my next appointment. I didn’t know I’d get to see you today.”

“I’d hoped to see Mrs. B while I was here taking pictures. Is she home?”

“Yes. She’s coming along now.” He looked over his shoulder.

“Is this one of your famous grandbabies?”

“Yes. This is the newest member of our clan.” He turned the bundle of pink cheeks and delight in my direction. “Grace Katherine.”

“Oh,” I whispered. “She’s beautiful, and sleeping.” I pulled my shoulders to my ears and covered my mouth. Her tiny eyelids fluttered, struggling to stay closed. The white cotton blanket swaddled her up to her chubby pink chin.

“It’s no problem. She has older brothers. This one can sleep through anything.”

I stroked the soft cotton blanket, feeling a little cocky that this little princess and I shared a name. “Katherine’s a great name, Grace. If you ever feel rebellious, I suggest asking people to call you Katy.” I smiled at Mr. Baxter. Powdery scents of baby lotion perfumed the air, mixing with the rich floral bouquet of Mrs. B’s gardens.

I considered my next words carefully. Mr. B was a local attorney, and that came with plenty of legal gossip, but also client confidentiality. “Did you know the Lowes? Joshua’s back in town, and he wants to talk to me, but I’m not quite ready. One minute I think I am, but I get scared and change my mind. Scared of what? I don’t even know.”

Mr. B. jostled his granddaughter and nodded sympathetically.

“I don’t need any deep dark secrets, I just wonder if you can tell me about his family. Mark’s not exactly a wealth of knowledge.”

“Well…Bernadette can say a lot more than I can on the subject, but I heard from Officer Greene that Joshua laid into Arnold Switzer after the Strawberry Parade.”

My head lightened. Arnold hadn’t bothered me once since that evening. Not one call or text. I’d assumed Officer Green had gone through with his follow up. “What do you mean by ‘laid into him’?”

“He went to Ray’s and yelled at Arnold about something, then gave him a black eye.”

Air squeezed from my lungs. “Oh, no.”

“Here she is.”

Mrs. B stepped into view, moving slowly along the lovely garden path. She smiled when she saw me.

“Hi, Katy.” She waved a hand overhead and moved a little more quickly in our direction. “I’m so glad to see you. I was just going in for some iced tea.” Lines of concern raced over her brow as she drew nearer. “Is everything okay? You look upset.”

“No. I’m fine. I came to take some pictures and talk if you have time.”

“Of course.” She took my hand and tugged me to her side. “Let’s go inside. Forget the tea. Let’s have ice cream.”

We settled at her kitchen table, and I unloaded eight weeks of troubles over three scoops of Moose Tracks.

She told me about the epic fights Joshua’s parents had gotten into when they lived in town. The times his mom had shown up at Ray’s with a baseball bat and dragged her husband home. She told me how quickly the Lowes’ talons had come out after moving here for a new start.

“Joshua was a sweet boy,” she said. “Smart, athletic. He was an overachiever. He probably had to be to get any attention in the tragedy that was his life.” She sipped her coffee and watched me push the melty dessert with my spoon. “Mark treated him like a son until the end.”

I dropped my spoon.

“It’s true. Joshua made Amy smile, and that was enough for Mark. The fact he was our town football star for a while didn’t hurt either.”

“What happened to him?” My hands flopped off the table and onto my lap.

“Well, the way I see it, you can’t live like he did for that long and not get damaged. His dad was the town drunk. His mom was the local battered woman, always saying she ran into walls or fell down. No one believed her, of course. Everyone gossiped. That’s hard for a kid to endure. Then he fell in love, but Amy got sick and pregnant. The little safety zone he’d created for himself started falling apart, and he must’ve given up trying to put it back together.”

I raised my eyes to her. “You don’t blame him?”

“No.” Her voice was a whisper. “He was a child. A child with darkness all around him, and Mark shut him out to keep you safe. Truth be told, you were better off not being raised in that, and Joshua had to know it.”

Tears fell onto my folded hands. “You don’t know that.”

She traced the rim of her cup with one pale finger. “They were a frightening mess, Katy.”

I couldn’t eat anything else.

I left her with a hug and a promise not to stay away so long again.

I slowed around the corner from the butterfly gardens and pulled air into too-tight lungs. I’d asked to hear about Joshua, but what I got felt like an ambush. I shook my head and moved toward home in a trance, tapping a WTF text to Dean.

“Freaking out. Need to process.”

His response was instant.
“Where are you? I’m on my way.”

* * * *

We climbed the ladder to his family’s hayloft in the old barn behind Mark’s shed, and I cried. Scents of dry wood and hay tickled my nose and throat. Dean’s cologne held me together.

Dean wrapped strong arms around my back and pulled me to him. “Hey. This will be okay.”

“How?”

He pressed a kiss into my hair and rested his chin on my head. “It just will.”

I wiped snot and tears with both hands, trying to pull myself together. “’Kay. Yeah. Thank you.” I needed logical, and I didn’t have it in me at the moment. I had emotion. Lots of C-4–strength emotion.

“Well, we have this whole loft to ourselves. Can I interest you in some snuggle up and simmer down time?”

I pressed my nose into his warm shirt and inhaled the fresh scents of soap, earth, and cinnamon. Sitting beside him in the cavernous loft instantly became my new happy place. “Is it okay if I have ten thousand emotions raging through me and a ton of energy to burn?”

“Absolutely. You want to go for a run?”

“No.” I caressed his rough cheeks. “Distract me.”

Dean pressed his palm over mine on his cheek. Strong blue eyes pierced me in place. “I don’t want to be your distraction.”

Guilt churned through me.
Real smooth, Katy
. “Right. Sorry.”

“Hey.” He lifted my chin with long, steady fingers. “Look at me.”

I forced my attention back to those stormy blue eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Everything we do together comes from here.” He moved our adjoined hands over his heart. “This is real for me. I’m not pretending with you. I don’t want you to pretend with me.”

I nodded. A tear slid over the curve of my cheek, and he caught it.

His thumbs caressed my face on either side. “I’m falling for you, Katy. Hard and fast. I can’t imagine leaving Woodsfield without you, and that day’s coming too soon.”

I kissed his mouth, interrupting his words. I was falling for him, too, and I was suddenly hungry for something I couldn’t name. My hands slid over the back of his head and begged him closer. “Thank you for rescuing me today.” I kissed his jaw slowly, moving toward his tan earlobe. “Thank you for making me laugh and feel safe and for being with me for all these firsts.” The final word was a puff of hot breath on his ear.

He released a soft moan that sent off wildfires in my veins. He wrapped me protectively in his arms and leaned me back onto tufts of loose hay. “You’re very polite. I think that’s one more reason I like you.” He pressed the length of his long body into me, aligning us in all the right places. The move felt everything except polite.

Excruciating pleasure raked through me. I melded my mouth to his.

He slid a hand beneath my shirt and traced the curve of my side to the bump of each rib. When he reached the underwire of my bra, a ripple of excitement arched my back and pressed me tighter against him. The rough pad of his thumb scraped across the peak of my breast, and I shuddered in pleasure.

So many years I’d dreamed of knowing him, laughing at inside jokes and kissing him in the moonlight. As the fantasies plowed through my mind, reality did one better.