2

“Scott, where do you think Bailey wants to put the cold drinks?” Uncle Toppy called from the kitchen.

“I’m sure whatever you think will be fine.” I sized up my black suit from the hallway mirror just outside the kitchen door. It looked better on me a year ago. I shoved my hand into the right pocket and pulled out a crumpled green tie that hadn’t seen the light of day since the wedding.

“Uncle Toppy, is there such a thing as an iron around here?”

Toppy stuck his head into the hallway. “Look in the caretaker’s quarters. Tracy should be there. I bet she has one.” He stepped into the hall and edged me away from the mirror to straighten his tie and button his black suit. “My turn to primp.”

“Your tie looks like a Shar-pei pup, Uncle Tops. Take it off, and I’ll iron it with mine. I have to go pick up Bailey. Everything ready?” I waited as he unfastened his red tie and handed it to me. “And you need to run a comb through that rooster hair. Looks like shredded carrots.”

He chuckled, reached into his pants pocket, and pulled out a comb.

“The place looks great, doesn’t it? I can’t wait for Bailey to see Barkley House complete with furniture and landscaping.” The work had kept me away from Bailey too much, but after today I’d be all hers. “We had to close up shop for one full day so everybody could help Tracy put up the Christmas decorations, but it was worth it.”

“It has that new car smell. Well, paint and furniture polish. Go find that iron and let’s get this shindig underway.” He waved me down the hall.

I knocked on Tracy’s door. She opened it with a flourish, extending her arm to display her efficiency apartment. Her ever-present, jet black pony tail swished as she showed me her new digs.

“A little too much ‘frou-frou’ for me, little sister, but very nice if you like that sort of thing.” I faked a yawn.

Her dark brown eyes sparkled, but she smirked. “What do you know? It is lovely. Totally befitting a college scholarship winner, and retreat caretaker, like myself.” She giggled and sat on her frilly turquoise bedspread. “What do you need?”

“An iron.” I showed her the wrinkled ties.

“Good grief. ¡Que desastre! Here, give them to me.” She laid the ties on a small kitchen table and pulled an iron from a bottom cabinet. She plugged it in and waited for it to heat.

Wasn’t that Joseph Calderon’s son in a framed photo on the cabinet? The Barkley House had a great construction crew, but none worked harder than the contractor’s son, Javier. Protective older brother mode kicked in, even if she was just a long-time family friend. I picked up the picture and shoved it in front of her nose.

“What’s this? You dating Javier?”

She blushed as if she’d been caught in a secret and yanked the photo from my hands. “None of your business.” She stepped over to her dresser, opened the top drawer and tossed the photo in it, mumbling in Spanish.

I followed and tried to retrieve it, but she slammed the drawer shut. “Aw, come on. Who have you gotten mixed up with?”

“Mind your own business, or get someone else to iron this wadded up excuse for a tie.” She play-shoved me away and started working on the tie.

“I bet Bailey knows what’s going on. You girls always have secrets.”

She winked.

“So, do you miss waitressing for me at the diner? Been hard-pressed to replace you, but Phoebe does OK. I’m about to lose her too, I think.” I sat on one of the kitchen chairs.

“Why do you say that? She’s doing a pretty good job. That’s our Bailey. Giving that faded beauty queen a chance, even after everything she did to her,” Tracy said. “I think this is the first job she’s held for more than a month.”

“She stole Bailey’s loser fiancé, and I’ll always be grateful to her for that.” I winked.

“True, but if it weren’t for me, you might not be married to Bailey at all,” Tracy said. “Hey, did you ever thank me for that?”

“I believe I did, but, Oh, Planner of Secret Weddings, Queen of Romantic Surprises,” I teased, and bowed low, “thank you, Dear Lady Salas, for saving me from my Extreme Foolishness.”

“You’re welcome. I’m so glad it worked out.” “Nothing like losing both parents and planking with a heart attack to ruin an engagement. But you never lost faith. I’m surprised Bailey stuck around.”

“It wasn’t just me. We all knew you’d get your act together. You must be sticking to that healthy lifestyle. Looks like you’ve lost some weight.”

“Yeah, but don’t mention it to Bailey. She’s gained with the pregnancy, and she’s sensitive about it. I think she looks more beautiful than ever.”

“She does. Now why do you say the diner may be losing Phoebe?”

“I think she’s about to get married.” I loved watching Tracy’s face light up.

“What? Are you serious? Who?” She left the iron sitting on my green tie.

“Whoa, you’ll fry it,” I said, laughing.

She pulled the iron away from the tie. “Spill it, for crying out loud.”

“Oh, you’re willing enough for me to tell my news, but you won’t give it up about Javier.” I was enjoying this too much. I knew just what buttons to push with this girl. I’d watched her grow up.

Tracy picked up the iron and ground it into my tie.

“OK, OK, it’s just a hunch, but,” I began, lowering my voice and looking over my shoulder.

Tracy’s mom entered the room.

“You two are worse than old ladies.” Liz shook her head.

My news about Phoebe and Pastor Jack would have to wait.

“Hurry and get Bailey so we can take some pictures before the ceremony.” Liz pulled off my baseball cap. “It doesn’t go with your suit.”

Tracy handed her mother my tie, and then Liz helped me get it on straight.

“Tracy, please give Toppy his tie when you finish. I’m outta here.” I winked at my two good friends and jogged out of the room. I pulled out my cell and called Bailey to let her know I was on my way.

She didn’t answer. Probably getting dressed. Everything took her longer these days. I’d be glad for her ordeal to be over. I couldn’t wait to hold those babies in my arms. Would they have Bailey’s molasses brown hair and eyes? Or black hair and blue eyes like me?

I turned my truck toward I-20 and headed for Exit 477. I couldn’t believe it had been almost a year. I smiled thinking of our wedding day, complete with snow. I probably should have told Bailey that her deadbeat dad had slithered into the ceremony, but I sent him away. No way would I let him ruin her day.

Even though decorated for Christmas, both my businesses on Exit 477 looked foreign with no activity. Was the diner really that small? Across the street, the washout facility looked like a one-eyed sleeping giant with its expansive door on the entrance closed.

I pulled up to the inn, which was also closed for business since Bailey didn’t have the energy to care for guests. I parked in the street. Her car would ride more comfortably.

“Bailey? Time to go.” I held open the front door. Too quiet. I went inside and didn’t find her in our bedroom, but her clothes for the ceremony were laid out on the bed. I looked upstairs, even though she hadn’t taken those stairs in weeks. Not there either.

“Blast it, woman, you didn’t try to go up to the prayer garden, did you?” She’d missed it so much, I wouldn’t really blame her for trying.

My dress shirt stuck to my back as I jogged across the steaming backyard and then into the prayer garden.

No Bailey.

Had we discussed her waiting for me at the diner? Maybe someone picked her up already? I’d been so busy that maybe I got my wires crossed.

Phoebe rented my old apartment above the diner. I called her as I jogged back to the inn. “Have you seen Bailey?”

“Why, no, Scott. I’m waiting for Ja-, um, my ride,” she drawled into the phone. “Have you called her cell?”

“I’ll try again. You’re sure you didn’t see anyone pass from the inn?”

“Just an old, black vehicle of some kind. Flew by like a racecar. But there was just one little old man inside.”

Please, God, no. Please don’t let it be her father. “Thanks, Phoebe, I’ll call her right now.”

Her cell buzzed on the coffee table, next to her purse.

Bailey, where in the world are you? I walked onto the front porch and noticed something I hadn’t seen on the way in.

Splashes of blood spotted the steps.

Dizziness sent me to my knees.