Twelve

Check your facts; know your sources. The line had been drummed into her in school. She knew it like she knew her own name. Why in the world had she chosen this particular time to listen to her mother? She should have checked the public records. But the picture was evidence. It hadn’t crossed her mind to question it. Who took wedding pictures before a wedding?

April’s eyes opened, her jaw locked tight. Beneath the pineapple-shaped globe of a streetlamp, the blue on the Harley glowed like Caribbean water. Seth’s eyes appeared more black than brown—polished ebony, fixed on hers, holding her captive.

“You. . .didn’t. . .get married?”

He shook his head. His eyes danced. “Still Bachelor.”

He was playing with her, relishing her humiliation, yet the message that came through his teasing smile was unexpected. Grace. He wasn’t mad. She’d cornered him like a deranged banshee, but he wasn’t mad.

“I came frighteningly close to marrying the wrong woman, but I didn’t.”

The tears rolled over their banks, topping humiliation with fresh embarrassment. “I’m sorry.” She fished a tissue out of her pocket.

Seth stood and took a step toward her. “You and I are getting to be experts at new beginnings, aren’t we?”

All she could do was nod.

“Are you up for a moonlight ride?”

Wiping her nose, she nodded again, still fixed on the midnight glint in his eyes. A smile finally unparalyzed her face. “Promise you won’t get all astronomical on me?”

“Five minutes of moon phases, max. Maybe ten on Mercury. If we stay up late enough, we’ll be able to see it in the northwestern sky.” He grinned, turned, and unlatched the trunk compartment, pulling out a half helmet, two black leather jackets, and two pairs of gloves. His own helmet hung from a silver hook beneath the trunk. “Pays to keep a spare.” He held out the helmet, but when she grabbed it, he didn’t let go. “Before the thought hits your pretty head, this did not belong to my ex-fiancée.”

“Thank you.” His reassurance hadn’t come before the thought, but it did put it to rest.

April walked around to the opposite side of the bike as she zipped the jacket and fastened the strap on the helmet. “I love this color.”

“Suede Blue Pearl.”

“Anniversary edition, huh?” She ran her hand across the curve of the gas tank.

Seth stopped, one hand partway into a leather glove. “You do know something about Harleys.”

April glanced down at the Harley logo, silver wings upturned against an orange and black background. Above the wings was printed 105 Years; below them, it said, “1903–2008.”

“Yep, I know my bikes.”

“I’m impressed.” Seth tucked his sleeves into his gauntlet gloves. “Ready?”

“All set.”

He turned and reached out for the left grip. His hand stopped in midair. Turning, he grinned at her then touched his gloved fingertips to the anniversary logo. “I really, really hate being gullible. It’ll be a wilder ride because of that, you know.” He swung his leg over the seat.

April stepped onto the foot pad. Holding onto Seth’s shoulder, she hopped on. As he revved the motor, she yelled in his ear. “Bring it on!”

Seth did a U-turn and headed north, out of town. The air that had felt balmy when they’d walked outside now chilled April’s cheeks. She wrapped her arms a little tighter around Seth’s chest. When the speed limit changed to fifty-five, she felt the gears change. The vibration increased, the motor roared. The road curved as they climbed the bluff. Molding her body to his, she leaned into the turn with him. They flew over the crest of a rise. April’s breath caught, and she felt like she’d left her stomach at the top of the hill. The wind rushed, and her eyes watered as they whipped along a straightaway and began to ascend again. Her hair slapped against the jacket collar. The road dipped, and they hit a pocket of cold air. April ducked closer into Seth’s shoulders to block the wind.

Yvonne’s words came to mind. Experiences that celebrate life. This moment, maybe her first in well over a year, was a celebration.

Seth had asked her if she could stand ten hours on a Harley.

Absolutely.

❧

“I was engaged to the second runner-up in the Miss St. Cloud Pageant.”

“Brenda Cadwell.”

“Mm-hm.”

They sat on an orange blanket embroidered with Harley-Davidson emblems. Below them, the lights of Pine Bluff scattered like diamonds across the valley.

“Very prestigious.” April watched his reaction, wondering how the breakup had really affected him.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought when I first met her. She was a broadcasting student, shadowing the manager of the station I worked at for a class she was taking. I knew who she was before she introduced herself. I’d seen some of the pageant coverage. I was blown away when she asked me out.”

“She asked you?”

A wry smile pulled at his mouth. “Yeah. Should have seen the manipulation red flags, but I was so caught up in the fact that she’d chosen little ol’ me. I was blind right up until a week before the wedding.”

“What happened?”

Seth picked up a stone and tossed it over the side of the bluff. It pinged against the rocks, the sound trailing off in the dark abyss. “I got a clue from her sister that there were a few little things she’d failed to mention in the two years we’d dated. Like the fact that she’d maxed out two credit cards and then run up thirty thousand dollars on Daddy’s accounts, which she’d promised to pay back. All told, we would have started our marriage sixty-four thousand dollars in debt.”

A long, low whistle slipped through April’s lips. “All for the wedding?”

“No. Her parents and I covered the wedding bills as they came along. She’d charged clothes, jewelry, makeup, spa services. . .anything to decorate herself. And she’d hidden the debt from me.” He pitched another rock. “When I confronted her, she denied it. The debt was one thing. The sin of omission and then the lying was what I couldn’t get past. I could only guess at what else she’d forgotten to mention.”

“So you broke it off a week before the wedding?”

“Worse than that. I did a credit check on her, and when she denied everything, I wanted to believe her. So I did some research. It took a few days to double-check everything. There was no mistake. I broke up with her an hour before the rehearsal dinner.”

“Whoa. I’m picturing a rather angry bride.”

Smile lines bracketed Seth’s mouth. “I think ‘livid’ is the correct word. She drew blood when she launched the ring at me.”

“Ouch.”

“A couple weeks before the wedding, she insisted on having wedding pictures of the two of us taken at a studio. Had to have the right lighting, you know.” He shook his head. “Her roommate worked for the paper and sidestepped the usual policy for her, letting her submit a picture early so it would come out in the Sunday morning paper. By the time they thought of it, the paper had already gone to press.”

April studied the relaxed set of his jaw. She’d seen him upset enough to know that his jaw muscles usually bulged when he was angry. “You seem to have dealt pretty well with it. I think I’d still be bitter.”

“That was the amazing thing. The second I told her I wasn’t going to marry her—in front of her parents, by the way—the relief was unbelievable.”

“But you weren’t miserable with her before that?”

Seth shrugged. “Did you ever have a tag on the neck of a shirt that was stiff and scratchy, and all day long, you’re kind of subconsciously aware of it, but you’re too busy to focus on it? That’s what our relationship was like. On some level, it wasn’t feeling right. She wasn’t interested in much of anything I like to do. I sometimes wonder if she was interested in me at all, or if she was just addicted to the male attention and any guy would do. Honestly, I think she would have been just as happy dating a full-length mirror.”

It was April’s turn to pick up a smooth, flat rock and pitch it into the darkness. “I’m glad you found out before it was too late. Do you still have contact with her?”

Seth’s sigh carried notes of weariness mingled with frustration. “Only when I have to. Unfortunately, our paths cross often. . .professionally.”

“I’m sorry I lashed out at you. I should have checked the facts.”

“Forget it. A wedding announcement sure looks like fact. Besides. . .” His fingertip traced the outline of her hand on the blanket. “Your righteous wrath was kind of flattering.”

April aimed her smile at the distant lights. “And why is that?”

“Because it just might mean that in spite of all our ups and downs, you’re developing some feelings for me.”

“And you’d consider that a good thing?”

His arm slid around her shoulders. “I’d consider that a very good thing.”

❧

He’d been waiting for the right moment to put his arm around her. When he did, she nestled against his shoulder and looked up at him. Close enough to kiss. Slowly, he bent his head toward hers.

“I hear we’re in for a storm tomorrow.”

The sparkle in her eyes told him she knew full well what he’d been about to do. And he was pretty sure the distraction technique was more to lead him on than away. He’d gladly play that game, and he had just the strategy to make it a short round.

“Thunderstorms are usually instigated by several factors: sufficient moisture, usually at low levels near the surface; a vertical profile in the atmosphere that is unstable, meaning a parcel of air will continue to rise if given a push upward”—he gestured with his hand—“and a mechanism to give the air parcels a push, such as a cold or warm front. Simply stated, moisture, instability, and lift. When these three things come together within certain parameters, we can be pretty sure of a thunderstorm.”

Her eyes stayed fixed on his, her bottom lip firmly clamped between her teeth. She wasn’t going to cave in as easily as he’d thought.

“It is possible that thunderstorms can arise with just two of the three parameters. . .for example, when there is no surface front or other mechanism to lift the air, but there is great instability and plenty of moisture. If the air parcels rise”—he inched closer and lifted his hand to illustrate—“due to the instability and there is nothing to stop them, a shower or thunderstorm may—”

Her hand reached out and grabbed his in midair. “Okay. I surrender.” Her head pressed into his shoulder. “Let’s. . .” Her eyes closed. “Let’s just. . .talk about tornadoes.” Her eyes popped open, her lips spread into an amazing smile.

“O. . .kay. . .”

Her fingertip pressed against his lips, sending prickly sensations down his spine. “Specifically, when do we get to chase one?”

Seth laughed against her finger and then graced it with a featherlight kiss. She lowered her hand but rested it, palm up, on her knee. Saving his kiss? “You do realize, my dear, that there has to be a tornado in the vicinity in order to chase it.”

An elbow boxed his right side. “And here I thought you’d create one just for me.”

“I would if I could.” Her deep blue eyes suddenly seemed a bit too deep, a little too inviting. Folding his legs under him, he turned sideways to face her. “June is the biggest month for tornadoes in Minnesota, so we should have an opportunity soon. I’ll introduce you to Darren, the storm-chasing guru. Are you free Friday night?”

“Yes.”

“Darren’s coming over for pizza. How about if I ask him to bring his family, and we’ll make it a five-and-a-half-some.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Ah. One child and one on the way?”

He nodded. “Denisha is due in about a month. Wesley is four. . .going on fifty.”

“Wesley. . .nice name. Thank goodness they didn’t pick a D name.”

“I tried to convince them to give him my middle name. Darren, Denisha, and Dalton—has a nice ring, don’t you think?”

“Your middle name is Dalton?” Amusement danced in her eyes before she discreetly looked over his shoulder.

“Yeah. . .I don’t like it either. I was named for my dad’s alma mater in Georgia.”

“How. . .significant.”

“Just laugh and get it over with.”

She did.

“Okay, that’s enough. You must be blessed with a very normal middle name.”

Once again, she laughed. “It’s Jean, and I hate it. It would be perfect if I’d wanted to be a country music star.”

“April Jean will be singin’ for us t’nite, folks,” he twanged.

“Anyway, about the tornado guru. . .”

“Hey, that was a meaningful rabbit trail. We learned something about each other.”

“If you ever say my name through your nose like that again, I’ll use your middle name on the air the next time you call my show.”

“Yes ma’am.” He loved how easily she made him laugh and lose track of what he was saying. “Friday night. . .Darren will cure your fear of tornadoes. There’s nothing he loves more than showing spine-chilling videos of his close calls.”

“And that will cure me?”

“You’ll have chase fever before the end of the night. You’ll be begging for the chance to see an F4 up close and personal.”

“Right.” She stretched her lips in a pretend smile.

He looked down at her hand, pressed against the blanket, and touched the silver ring on her index finger, sliding it back and forth. “I don’t know if I’ve actually put it into words yet, but I admire your courage.”

“I’m anything but courageous.” She crossed her legs to mirror him, and they sat knee to knee.

“Do you know what Mark Twain said?”

“No. What did Mark Twain say?” Even in the engulfing darkness, he could see the gleam in her eyes.

“That courage is not the absence of fear but resistance to the mastery of fear. He said, ‘Except a creature be part coward, it is not a compliment to say it is brave.’ ”

“Well then, I guess I qualify. I felt like the lion in The Wizard of Oz at the top of the water tower.”

“But the point is. . .you were at the top of the water tower.” Seth raised his right hand, sinking his fingers into her hair. He felt her take a tremulous breath. As he leaned toward her, he lifted her chin with his other hand. Millimeters from her lips, he whispered, “I think you’re very brave.”

Her eyes closed; her lips parted.

And Seth pointed. “Look, a meteor.”

April’s eyes jarred open and then followed the line of his arm to the white trail disappearing into the invisible horizon. She smiled, shook her head just the tiniest bit. “Can’t you just call it a falling star?”

“But it really isn’t a star at all.” He matched her knowing smile. “The streak of light is caused by tiny bits of dust and rock falling into the atmosphere and burn—”

Her fingers sealed his lips, slowly pulled away. Her eyes closed again.

And he kissed her.