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Rian
“Ouch.” I flinched as Reagan’s needle plied through my flesh without mercy.
“Hold still.”
I watched as he tied off after the last stitch used to sew up my arm. I tried not to jerk away as he roughly dabbed more of his astringent ointment into the cut on my head. “That burns like the fires of Hades. Whose idea was it to make you a healer?”
His throaty laughter only added to my irritation. “There you are. I was beginning to doubt you were the same boy who used to be my brat of a brother. You sounded like your old self just now. And to answer your question, Gwen insists that every one of our warriors has at least a rudimentary knowledge of wound care, and all must now carry a small medic kit.”
“Does she still practice healing?” Gwen was the castle healer in Gilvary before marrying Reagan.
“Every once in a while. I asked her if she missed it, and she said being a wife and mother was challenge enough that she did not have time to miss it.”
“You two seem like the perfect couple.”
He looked directly into my eyes. “Marriage takes a lot of work that is never-ending, but it makes my life worth living. Convincing Gwen to marry me was the best thing I have ever done.”
Thinking over my own life choices, I could honestly say the same thing about Adrika—even with all our differences. Was she still mad at me? Did she miss me as much as I missed her? It could be that her feelings for me had cooled in my absence. Whatever the case, we would work it out.
As Reagan moved on to the injured warrior next to me, I looked out over the carnage of our recent battle. Death touched every side. The sight of so much blood running down into the lake turned my stomach. Reagan had ordered the rocks forming the dam to be removed, sending the filth on down the Erin River. We had no choice. Hopefully, the river would clean itself before reaching civilization.
Breaking up the dam had caused the water level in the lake to drop, leaving a dampened ring. Here, they piled the bodies to be burned. The ground was too hard to bury so many, and we could not take the chance of catching fire to what little brush existed in this drought-ridden land. I should be helping, but dizziness overtook me every time I tried to stand.
The injured who could walk unassisted moved back to our original camp by the stream. The rest were placed on litters and carried. I refused to be carried so I stumbled along with a warrior on each side, having to stop and lose the contents of my stomach more than once. In all the battles I had participated in, I had never felt so weak and out of sorts.
I drifted in and out of consciousness for the next several days. The heat was unbearable yet my body shook with chills with the fever that had set in. On the fourth day, I was finally able to sit up. As I drank a cup of broth made by boiling jerky with herbs, a commotion rang through the camp. General Cormac had arrived with more troops.
I would not face him sitting down. I eased up from my pallet until I was standing. There was some initial dizziness that soon faded. Because of our past encounters, I could not find it in me to like him even a little, even knowing the man had only been following the commands of his king. “General Cormac, nice of you to join us now that the battle has been won.”
He seemed unfazed by my sarcasm. “I just found out we were under attack a little over a week ago, or I would have been here sooner. The king has sent me with funds to hire more warriors and to build a fort to prevent this from happening again. Although, we are so far away from civilization here, that may present a problem.” He looked around as he spoke.
“How could you have just been told, when the king sent me here weeks ago?”
His gray eyes turned back to study me. “It is likely that message did not come from the king, or at the very least, he was ordered to write it. I have been instructed to give you this missive from the princess before divulging too many details.” He held out a thick packet of parchment with the king’s seal marked into the wax holding it closed. He then turned and walked away.
Warmth flooded through me as I recognized Adrika’s flowing handwriting. I was shocked to learn the king was being held captive when she arrived back at the castle. I hurried through her description of the events that followed, my fear growing even though I knew she was safe now. She said she had been the one to kill Galik, but she did not give the details. The thought of her there without my protection sickened me.
I glanced up, noticing my brothers watching me as I read. There was nothing personal in the part I had read thus far, so I handed the pages over to them and continued reading. I stopped again to process the king’s transformation afterwards. I never would have guessed he had ever given God a thought, and her reaction confirmed my fears. My wife was not saved.
Rian, Father plans to relinquish his right to rule over to the two of us upon your return. We are planning your coronation to be held soon after your arrival back home. No one knows this—not even the general or Father’s advisors. This is the agreement I made with him. He tried to thrust the responsibility solely on me until you could join us. I cannot do this alone. Please hurry back to me.
This was the first time she gave any indication that she missed or needed me with her, and it was all because she did not want to rule alone. The truth stung a little. Admittedly, the thought of ruling still excited me. It would mean I could begin the improvements I had planned for the betterment of the kingdom. Her next few paragraphs indicated the changes that were already beginning to take place. It only proved that she did not need me at all.
I glanced once again at Reagan and Garrett with their heads together as they read. Should I share this bit of information with them? Adrika was right to want to keep it a secret, but I knew they would not tell. And I would need their support in this endeavor. I handed over that next page with the warning that it was not to be mentioned.
It was only on the last page that the letter became personal.
Rian, please forgive me for my actions after the ball. I understand why you reacted that way. There is no excuse in my defending Brett. He means nothing to me, while you mean everything. I miss you so much. If you do not make it back to me, I will never be able to forgive myself for my actions. I have a deep need to tell all I truly feel toward you, or better yet, to show you. I am begging you, please find some way to come back to me.
With all my love,
Adrika
I wanted to pack up and leave that very moment, but there was too much work to be done. I looked up to find huge grins splitting both of my brothers’ faces. I reached to retrieve the pages of my letter as Garrett slapped me on the back.
He leaned in and whispered. “Congratulations, Little Brother.”
Reagan shook my hand. “Yes, congratulations. I am tempted to follow you home just so I can be there for the big day, but Gwen would have my hide if I went without her knowing, and since it is to be kept secret . . .” Reagan left off with speaking, but it was obvious that he was seeking permission to go ahead and write to Gwen.
“I agree that it should remain that way. As it is, too much could go wrong with the weak state Farris is in. Sorry. I would love to have all of you there. We could hold off on the proceedings until everyone arrived, but I fear we will barely make it home before time for the next Session meeting as it is. I am ready to be back now.”
I winced as Reagan lightly popped my cheek a couple of times. The action seemed multiplied as it radiated through my injured skull. “No worries. That is still months away, and I expect you to come early to Gilvary and stay through Christmas, if you can.”
“I imagine it is something else making his time on this journey seem insufferably long.” Garrett winked at me. “So, tell us, what was written on the last page of your letter. You forgot to share it with us, Brother.” The grin on his face indicated that he knew exactly why I had not shared the more private message found at the end of that letter.
“It is nothing that you need to see. I need to go find the old general to see what the plan is.” As I hobbled away, their laughter put a grin on my face.
We spent the next week building the walls of the fort. Everything needed was available. Timber was hauled down from the mountains. Mud, straw, and stone only needed to be gathered, and we had plenty of men to do it. By the time Garrett’s birthday arrived that sixth day in July, everything but the roof was completed. We celebrated that night with plans to leave the next morning.
General Cormac and his men would stay to finish. Of those left, some would stay and train at the fort, others decided they had enough of fighting wars and would be headed home to their families. The rest, including Abel Pendergrass, would be headed back to the castle to continue their training there.
Early the next morning, I hugged my brothers before we parted ways, rejoicing in the fact that I would see them again in mere months. Garrett and his men would travel with Reagan and his warriors into Gilvary where they would follow the Erin River back to Aisling. This way, there would be no mountains to climb, and they would be assured of fresh water along the way. The water from the lake ran clear now, but I imagined it would take a while before the image of how it was after the battle left any of our heads.
It was the middle of July when we came in view of the castle in Dermot. I had never felt so weary in all my life. Thick black clouds had followed us home for the last three days of our journey but offered no relief. The humidity only made for more misery. Occasionally, thunder boomed through the atmosphere but not one drop of rain fell.
As if sensing we were near the end, my horse sped up as we approached the stables next to the castle. We were greeted with much enthusiasm from the few stable hands and warriors who had been left behind. I listened, but did not pick up on anything alarming. I was ready to be home. I wanted more than anything to see my wife.
Finally alone, I headed down the path leading to the castle. My gaze was drawn to the prison cells where I first began my journey down a path that would lead to me becoming ruler of this kingdom. I was now thankful for God’s guidance, but there was no nostalgia attached to these dank compartments. As soon as I got a chance, these cells would be razed.
A fat raindrop hit my cheek, arresting my steps and my thoughts. I lifted my face up to the sky and a few more drops fell. As I turned to look again toward my destination, Adrika came out from the veranda leading to our chambers. She shielded her eyes with her hand as she looked my way. The rain picked up, giving off my favorite scent that only the start of a storm could produce. My steps quickened toward her as she began to run. We met halfway across the courtyard, and I swung her up into my arms, kissing her soundly. Her hands roamed my face and chest, as if assuring herself that I was truly there.
I pulled back from her lips and pushed her damp hair from her face. “You are getting soaked.”
“I do not care. I have missed you so much. Rian, I love you. Thank God, you are home.” She kissed my face and then found my lips again as she trembled in my arms.
“I love you too, my princess. I love you and thank God for you.” I gave her one last warm kiss before lifting her in my arms and carrying her to our chambers with a heart full of wonderment at the gifts God had bestowed upon me—gifts I knew I did not deserve.
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This book is dedicated to:
My grandmother, Myrtle Allen. There is no doubt in my mind that if you were alive today, you would be thrilled to have a writer in your family. Some of my best memories are of you telling your stories, singing to me, loving me despite my flaws. I miss being able to call you up and say, “Grandmother, would you pray for me?” Besides Jesus, of all the people waiting for me in heaven, I look forward to seeing you the most.
And to my MawMaw, Ruby White. I am probably the most like you. Same stubborn attitude, same Ruby style, and I’d like to think I possess the same inner strength. Any artistic abilities I have also came from you. I remember all of your questions about heaven. I expect you are up there awaiting my arrival so you can give me the grand tour. I can’t wait!
There were so many “God” moments that have brought me to this point in my calling. I am especially thankful for The One who sent these little affirmations.
To my readers, I really hope you have enjoyed this series. I am moving on to Contemporary Romance for now and hope you will continue this journey with me. I love you all and thank God for you.
I had a power tool in writing this novel that I didn’t have before. Thanks to my critique partner, Toni Shiloh, for helping me add details and spark to my writing.
Thanks to Cheri Schueller for catching things my eyes didn’t see. Your help has been invaluable to me.
Tammy Jackson, you have gone above and beyond in fulfilling your sister duties time and again. Love you.
Thanks to Casha Whitaker for bringing Adrika to life.
And thanks to my beta readers, Marie Boyd, Karen Giles, Ashleigh Payton, Sheila Miller, and Dana Smith.
I would love to hear from you. My email address is andreaboyd11@gmail.com. You can also find me on my website- www.andreaboyd11.com.
Books by Andrea Boyd
The Kingdoms of Kearnley Series
Securing Aisling
Healing Gilvary
Restoring Dermot
Walden Beach Series/Contemporary Romance
Irresistibly Yours
Persuaded
Love’s Redemption (2019)
Sweet Tea Holiday Collection
Heart’s Desire
Mistletoe Kiss (Novella)
Bio: Each of Andrea Boyd’s series represents a different genre but all fall into the category of romance. All offer an element of her own brand of humor. And all are a tribute to God.
Besides writing, she loves spending time with her family, quilting, going to car shows, and driving around in her 1968 Barracuda convertible.
Andrea lives with her husband, Tommy, and at least a couple of cats in York County, SC.
HERE IS A LOOK AT THE first chapter of Heart’s Desire.
“Aiden, you have a couple of customers waiting in your office. One of them said she’s here to buy a new car.” Lilly’s adoring grin always made feel Aiden uncomfortable.
The red-headed receptionist at Weaver Dodge had been accused of sending the best sales to him. If that was true, it had nothing to do with the fact that he was the owner’s son and everything to do with her school-girl crush. Unfortunately for her, he had absolutely no interest in pursuing the matter.
Aiden leaned across the counter toward Lilly and spoke just above a whisper. “Is there someone else who can take them? I need to pick Kensli and Riley up early from daycare today. I’m taking them to the parade.”
Shiloh’s Christmas parade was always the first Wednesday in December. In this small South Carolina town, you were either a spectator or a participant. Most businesses closed early on the day of the parade. Aiden always took the kids, but this was the first year Kensli would really know what was going on. They had been talking about it all week at the daycare. She was so excited, which only made him look forward to taking her more.
“Everyone else is busy. If you want, I can pick the girls up for you. We can be back and ready to head out as soon as you’re done.” Lilly covered Aiden’s hand with her own as she gazed up at him with her doe-like brown eyes.
This girl was as obvious as a wig on a baby. She’d been trying to get him to ask her out since she started working at the dealership six months ago. Even if he was interested, she was at least ten years younger than him, which was definitely not what he needed.
He slid his hand from beneath hers. “That’s okay, Lilly. Hopefully it won’t take too long.”
He almost felt guilty at the deflated look on her face. He brushed it off, reminding himself that he’d never encouraged her. Aiden hadn’t been on a single date since Jenna left him over two years ago, and he had no desire to start.
When Lilly said he had a couple of customers, the two women studying the pictures on his wall were not what had come to mind. One of them was dark and curvy, the other pasty-white and reed thin, and both probably old enough to be his momma. An old Paul McCartney song started playing in his head.
“Good afternoon, ladies. My name is Aiden Weaver. What can I help you with today?”
The dark and curvy one introduced herself as Aunt Ginger, which was strange. She wasn’t his aunt. She informed him that her green-eyed companion was Jamie Foster. Instead of telling him what they wanted, Jamie gestured toward the wall covered in pictures.
“Do these babies belong to you?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He took a step closer so he could point them out. “My oldest is Kensli, and this little one right here is Riley.”
The other salesmen at Weaver Dodge liked to poke fun at him because his wall was covered in photos of his girls, while theirs displayed pictures of cars. He was sure the boss would’ve protested if the photos in question hadn’t been of that man’s own grandchildren.
“I couldn’t help but notice, their mother is in none of these pictures. She didn’t pass, did she?” Jamie touched his arm and gazed up at him with a look of concern, along with a sort of misplaced excitement that left him feeling confused.
“No, ma’am. She left us a couple of years ago.”
“So, you’re divorced?”
“Yes, ma’am.” A year after Jenna left, he’d been served with divorce papers. She’d given him complete custody of the girls, so he’d had no problem signing the papers. He didn’t need a wife. They were doing just fine without her.
Jamie patted his arm. “I’m so sorry to hear that. It must be rough raising two little girls on your own.”
Aiden felt a tingling at the back of his neck. Her somber words didn’t match her expression. How could he end this conversation without being rude? “Not at all. Our lives are infinitely better without her.”
“This one here looks just like you.” The inquisitive woman tapped one of the pictures of Kensli.
The truth was, neither one of the girls looked like him. Kensli had blond hair and blue eyes like him, but that was where the similarities ended. Riley looked even less like him with her jet-black hair and chocolate-brown eyes. He understood the curiosity, but the details were no one’s business. He’d learned long ago not to respond to the overt remarks.
The one calling herself Aunt Ginger placed a hand on her hip and huffed. “Jamie, we didn’t come here to waste this young man’s time. Son, I’m looking to buy a car. Can you help me?”
“Yes, ma’am. I sure can. Let’s have a seat while you tell me what you’re interested in.” Relieved to move away from the subject of his personal life and finally get down to business, Aiden moved around his desk and waited for them to take a seat before sitting down.
“Now, the last time I was here, I dealt with your granddaddy, God rest his soul, and he sold me a brand new, 1970 Challenger. I want another one just like it.”
He scratched his head, trying to think of the best place to find what she was looking for. “We do have a selection of used cars, but most don’t go back that far. I can search around for one and see what we can come up with, but it might take some time.”
“You don’t understand. I don’t need another 1970 Challenger. I still have the one your granddaddy sold me. I want a new one, but I want it to match the old one.”
Aiden tried not to look surprised. “We might have to special order it. It’ll probably cost a little more than one you’d pick off the lot.”
“That’s fine. It’s what I expected. Now my Beulah is Plum Crazy Purple with black stripes, a spoiler, and a hood scoop. I brought a picture with me, just let me find it.”
While Aunt Ginger dug around in her purse that was the size of a small suitcase, Jamie leaned in and smiled with the purpose of grabbing his attention. “So, are you seeing someone?”
Was she flirting with him? “No, ma’am. I haven’t dated since my wife left, and to tell the truth, I haven’t had much interest in it.”
The dating part would’ve been all right. It might be nice to have someone to hang out with in his free time, but he had no desire to feel the pain of rejection like he had when Jenna left. It may have been different years ago, but no one stayed together anymore. Most of his friends were separated or divorced—except for his best friend, Caleb. He said he was waiting for the one God had in mind for him. Aiden wondered if his friend wasn’t just plain scared that he might end up with someone like Jenna.
“Jamie, I know what you’re up to, and I don’t think this young man would appreciate your matchmaking skills.” Aunt Ginger gave her friend a pointed look even as she handed a picture across the desk to him.
“Yes, but he’d be perfect for Bailey. Don’t you think, Ginger?”
“No offense to Mr. Weaver, but we don’t know anything about him. Bailey has been hurt by enough men already. I’ve said it before, you need to leave that girl’s future in God’s capable hands.”
Aiden had to admit, he was a little put out by her comment. She made it sound like it was always men doing the hurting. That hadn’t been his experience.
Jamie’s shoulders dropped along with her smile. “I know, but I just hate to see two people by themselves who are lonely and broken when I know they could help each other heal.”
Aiden tried to relax the tightening of his jaw. How did she know if he was lonely and broken, or not? Even if it was true, she didn’t have to state it out loud like she did, right there in front of him, as if he wasn’t listening. He wanted to leave this whole discussion behind and fast.
Aiden cleared his throat and held up the picture when both women looked his way. “Miss Ginger, this sure is a pretty car. You said you want all the same features? Do you know what options this one came with, like what motor and transmission does it have?”
“It came with a Hemi. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Hold on, I have the original paperwork.” She went back to digging in her purse while he pulled up the special-order form on his desktop computer so he could start plugging in her order. It was time to move things along. He had a parade to get to.
“Do you go to church, Mr. Weaver?” Jamie was back at it again.
“You can call me Aiden, and yes, ma’am, I attend Community Fellowship over in Bethel Ridge.”
This added an extra gleam to her eyes, if that was even possible. She bumped her friend’s arm. “Did you hear that, Ginger?”
“Yes, I heard him.” She sounded just as annoyed as Aiden felt.
He reached for the faded pages she handed across his desk and started matching options with those on the computer screen. He tried to ignore the two ladies sitting across from him. Hard to do with him being the obvious topic of conversation.
When he was done, Aiden turned the computer screen toward his customer and started reading off specs as fast as he could but slow enough that she’d still be able to understand what he said. He wasn’t even thinking about the girls or the parade as he hurried along. He just wanted these women out of his office before Jamie started trying to set up a date between him and this Bailey.
Aunt Ginger flipped open the purple, rhinestone-encrusted reading glasses hanging from the beaded chain around her neck and perched them on the end of her nose. Her finger moved back and forth across the screen as she read each item listed.
He took a quick glance over at the friend and immediately brought his focus back to his customer, praying she’d hurry. The gleam in Jamie’s eyes made him feel like fresh roadkill about to be devoured.
“Perfect. Let’s do this. Go ahead and place the order, son. How long will it take to get here?”
“It usually takes around six weeks or so. After I send the order in, I’ll get a confirmation email with an estimated date of delivery. I can give you a call as soon as I know something. I’ll just need to do a credit check to finish this up.”
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll be paying with cash.”
He tried to keep the shocked look off his face. She looked like your average everyday citizen, not someone who had this kind of dough to dish out on a brand-new, special-order vehicle.
“Okay, then I’ll just need your full name and address, and a down payment.”
This time there was less digging in her purse when she pulled out an overstuffed billfold. She slipped her license out, handed them to him without looking up, and then flipped to her checkbook and started writing.
Bertha Thompson. That was the name on her license. This woman was full of surprises and curiosities. Aiden couldn’t help but look at the dark hair of the one sitting before him and compare it to the picture on her ID. It was definitely the same woman. If Aunt Ginger was a nickname, it sure was an odd one. She certainly didn’t have the red hair and freckles usually associated with the name Ginger.
Another peek at the smirk on Jamie’s face, and he was pretty sure she knew what was going through his mind at the moment. He went back to plugging the information into the computer at record speed.
After finishing up, he walked the ladies to the door feeling pretty good about his last transaction of the day. He still had plenty of time to pick the girls up and make it to the Christmas parade, and he was already looking forward to his commission from this sale. Plus, he’d managed to avoid any more digs into his personal life.
Almost home-free.
Aiden opened the door for the ladies to walk through, and Jamie stopped and turned to look back at him. “Will you be coming to Shiloh’s New Year’s Eve ball?”
He looked to Aunt Ginger, hoping she’d intervene like before, but all she did was raise her brows in question. “If you want, I can add your name and your date’s, if you have one, and you can pay your fee later.”
They both looked innocent—too innocent. Did they have an ulterior motive? The New Year’s Eve ball was Shiloh’s biggest event as it also marked the anniversary of its township. Since Jenna took off, he’d avoided that celebration like the plague. It was an event made for couples. If you didn’t bring a date, you were matched up with one. A shudder went through him. Right now, neither option sounded appealing.
“Let me think about it, and I’ll get back to you.” It was a diplomatic answer— noncommittal and one that wouldn’t offend his new customer.
Ginger shrugged a shoulder. “Well, don’t wait too long to think it over. We’re almost at capacity now.”
“I won’t. You ladies have a good evening, and I’ll be in touch shortly about the car.”
As soon as the door shut behind them, Aiden went for his jacket and headed out the back before anything else caused a delay.
BAILEY FOSTER CHECKED the settings on her camera, snapped a picture of her assistant, Macey, and then checked the image on the screen to make sure everything was just the way she wanted it.
“Bailey, are you ready to go yet? It’s too cold to stand in one spot.” Macey shifted from one foot to the other, her breath coming out in a white fog.
She smiled at the impatient teenager. “I’ll remind you of that when we get to the end of this and you start complaining about how tired you are and that your feet are hurting.” They had a long walk ahead of them as they followed the parade route from beginning to end.
The parade would start at three o’clock, so the floats had begun lining up on First Street just after lunchtime. Bailey walked down the line taking photos of the set-up. The sky was cloudy with an occasional appearance from the sun, making it a perfect day for pictures, but the cold had her fingers feeling stiff and clumsy. Macey had it right, it was too cold for standing still. She wished now that she’d worn something thicker than leggings under her skirt.
The Shiloh’s Elite Academy float was the last to line up. As she approached, the kids began to wave excitedly.
“It’s Miss Bailey!”
“Hi Miss Bailey!”
“Cheese!”
She snapped pictures as their greetings rang out, taking extra care to get a shot of every child on this float. These would be going up on the bulletin board in the front office of the daycare center.
One would think running a photography studio would be enough to keep anyone busy, but Bailey always felt she had too much time on her hands, so she’d also taken a part-time job at the academy. She was the official art instructor, which was a really pretentious title, considering the homely projects the preschoolers turned out. Despite her lack of experience, the owner, who was desperate for help and willing to work around Bailey’s photography business, hired her without question. Plus, she enjoyed spending time with the kids.
It was a good thing she didn’t work there on Wednesdays, or she would’ve had to ask for the day off to take photographs. Sure, the parade was lots of fun, but it was also a way to drum up business for the studio. As she focused on taking pictures, Macey followed along handing out business cards with details of how they could acquire photos from the parade. Hopefully, they would remember her the next time they needed a photographer.
Bailey checked her watch. She had ten minutes before the procession would start. Moving along the parade route, she headed down Main Street and started taking photos of the spectators. Eventually the parade would catch up to her. She anticipated the shots she’d get once the action started. Every once in a while, there would be another shout of Miss Bailey. She tried to throw her hand up each time, even if she couldn’t locate the caller among the crowd.
Just about the time the parade caught up to her, the first snowflakes began to fall. Everyone cheered and there were smiles all around. The forecast had only called for the possibility of a few flurries but nothing more. As long as it didn’t start coming down in earnest, this would make for some awesome shots. She steadily snapped pictures of those in the crowd and of the floats passing by.
One little boy caught her attention as he stood with his face up to the sky trying to capture snowflakes on his tongue. He seemed oblivious to the action around him. He reminded her of her ex-husband’s son, Tristan. She had so much wanted to be a mother to the boy, but her efforts were doomed from the beginning.
Bailey’s momma was the one who had introduced her to Jason Holis, and it had been a whirlwind romance from the start. He was a widower with an adorable little boy. After one date that included the three of them, Bailey had been head over heels.
Just three months after they met, the big white wedding with all the trimmings happened. A task made easier by the fact that marriage was the Foster family’s business. Bailey’s parents owned the Little Bit of Love Wedding Chapel. Daddy officiated and Momma did the planning. Every wedded desire could be met all at one place in their hometown. In addition to Bailey’s photography business, there was also a florist, a caterer, and a bridal shop owner in the family, not to mention a hair dresser and a dance instructor. All helped to make that big day even more special.
Everything had been picture-perfect for about six months. Then Jason started making trips to Columbia to see his sister, Trinity. These trips always seemed to fall on the weekends she had a photo shoot scheduled. Every time he loaded Tristan’s things into the car to head off without her, she felt abandoned.
The visits became more frequent, until about two weeks before their one-year anniversary when Jason sat Bailey down and told her that he’d fallen in love with someone else. He was headed to Columbia again and told her not to be there when he got back. She cried and pleaded to no avail. He claimed she was making things worse than they needed to be. Good grief, how much worse could it get?
Bailey moved back in with her parents thinking it would only be a temporary arrangement. Eventually, he’d come to his senses. Two months later, she was served with divorce papers. She had no idea a marriage could be dissolved that fast, but apparently, there was nothing to it if you were willing to admit to adultery. Bailey took back her last name, and Jason married his sister’s best friend, Olivia, the day after the divorce was final.
“Are you okay?”
Bailey lifted her camera and began snapping pictures without looking back at Macey. “I’m fine.”
A rumble sounded behind her, vibrating in her chest. She turned, anticipating the classic car, and watched as it slowly made its way down Main Street. The purple paint gleamed in the faint sunlight, as if a fresh coat had been applied. She snapped several pictures and then smiled and waved as Aunt Ginger passed by.
When she stopped to change her memory card, Bailey heard her name being shouted. She knew before looking up, that the high-pitched voice could belong to none other than Jamie Foster. Sure enough, here she came, barreling across the street right in front of Shiloh High School’s marching band with her hand up as if she was directing traffic. The majorette’s eyes widened at the near collision.
“Bailey! Wait up. Oh, for goodness sakes, you can’t hear a thing with all this noise.” Her momma threw the band members a scornful look as they passed by while Bailey squatted down next to the parade route and resumed taking pictures. The band members’ black and silver uniforms against the gray sky above made for some awesome shots.
Momma pulled her teal peacoat closer together beneath her chin as Bailey turned and snapped a picture of her. “I just wanted to tell you, I found the perfect man for you. He has a good job, he’s a Christian, and he’s raising the cutest little girls all by himself.”
She stood and continued taking pictures as she spoke. “I told you after the last guy that I didn’t want you setting me up anymore. If I’m meant to date again, please just let the man ask me on his own, without interference.” Bailey gave her a pointed look before she started walking again. She had a job to do, and if her momma wanted to talk to her, she’d have to keep up.
“I’m not trying to set you up. He’s a car salesman. All you have to do is go to his job and act like you’re interested in buying a car.”
Bailey pulled her camera down and looked at her momma. “So now you think I’m so desperate that I need to lie and stalk a man just to get a date.” She shook her head and started walking again.
Momma followed. “Just listen. It isn’t like that. You really do need a car. Would you just stop...”
Bailey whipped around suddenly. “No, you just stop. Just stop it, Momma. I don’t mean to be mean, but that’s enough. I do not need or want you to set me up with a date. Look at where your meddling has gotten me so far.”
Her momma just stood there with her mouth open. She didn’t follow when Bailey turned to walk away, but guilt trailed along with her every step of the way.
Bailey squeezed her eyes shut. She hadn’t talked back to her momma since she was a teenager. But she deserved it. Hadn’t she tried being polite? It didn’t help. Maybe being rude was the only thing that would get through to the woman. Bailey walked on, taking pictures until the very end, but all the joy had been sucked out of the event.