7

I waited tables that morning with a lingering sense of foreboding. Had Scott taken a turn for the worse? I tried to shake it off, but I just couldn’t get the feeling to go away. He’d hurt my feelings on our last visit. But I’d decided not to take it seriously. He just couldn’t help but feel out of place and irritable. I’d just help any way I could, but keep my mouth shut about it. Strained nerves automatically made my hand reach for my cross necklace, but I touched bare neck instead. Oh, yeah, I’d taken it off when it got tangled in my hair and had a little knot in it. I’d set it on the coffee table at the inn with the intention of wrangling the knot out later. Oh, well, I chalked the weird feeling up to exhaustion. And then I saw her.

Phoebe Waverly. Mixed emotions filled my senses and made me a little short of breath. Her entrance into my previous life brought heartache after she stole my job and took up with my former fiancé. Darryl Graham hired her as a secretary, with no secretarial skills. Her drop-dead, gorgeous looks had fed my crippling insecurities.

He’d faked an engagement with me in order to defraud me out of my inheritance. When he felt secure in that treachery, he had Phoebe fire me. Then he dropped me for Phoebe, thinking her Miss Texas title meant she had money, which he needed badly. That was the day I ran away, parked my car on the side of the road to cry, and saw Scott’s Washout Express, Exit 477 sign. I took that road and found what I’d been looking for all my life.

When Darryl’s crimes came to light, he burned my beloved Pinewood Manor to the ground. He claimed it was an accident.

Phoebe. Her coffee cup must have held some fascination, for she just stared at it with focused intensity. The former Texas beauty queen perched on the edge of the chair in her usual stilettos and business suit. She was carefully manicured, coiffed, and accessorized to the nth degree. Perfect posture, spine never touching the back of the chair. Visual perfection, yet something marred the picture.

Had I even seen her since she made that regal entrance into my lawyer’s office the day I tried to get my inheritance back? Her condemning information helped put Darryl Graham behind bars for trying to defraud me and a host of other real estate crimes including arson.

Fragile, like a delicate rose just before it wilts, Phoebe’s porcelain skin bravely clung to its position. Blond tresses stayed in hair-sprayed order, yet did not gleam as usual. I feared if someone opened the door to the wind, she’d blow away. It was impossible to guess just what she thought about. If she hadn’t been hired that significant day last August, I might be married to a man who didn’t love me. I owed her a greeting. “Hello, Phoebe.” I pulled out a chair at her table and sat down.

She held the coffee cup to her lips as though about to take a sip, but she never did. Had Midas touched and frozen the golden girl? What was she doing here?

We weren’t exactly friends.

“Phoebe, are you all right?” I touched her arm.

Startled, she nearly dropped her cup. “Bailey? Oh, goodness.” She set the cup down and grasped her throat. “You scared me.” She put her hand on mine. “So good to see you. You’re looking well.” The domino effect of that Southern drawl toppled her words against each other.

“Well, thank you.” I couldn’t decide if it was nice to see her or not.

An awkward silence had both of us staring at her coffee cup.

“What are you doing out in the country?” There, a simple question to broach without exposing the effect her presence had on me.

“Oh, well, I saw your attorney in town, and he mentioned that your Scott had a heart attack. I just thought I’d come and see how he’s doing.” Her strange, delicate appearance disappeared as she revved into high gear. “I mean, is there anything I can do for him?” She pulled a napkin from the holder on the table and dabbed at fake tears.

Seriously? Did she think she could waltz in here and steal another job from me? Or take up with my current fiancé? She could just get in line behind Melissa Murphy. What is it about me that made people think they could walk all over me?

“Why did you really come here, Phoebe?” I suppose the events of the last week made me on edge. I knew I sounded hateful and didn’t care.

Her hands began to shake. A real tear squeezed from her eyes. “I guess I just wanted to see what happiness looks like.” She snatched her purse up and bolted. Her bedazzled fingernails sparkled as she pushed open the door. A stiletto heel caught in the threshold and broke. She fell forward on her knees and the door fell back and slammed her in the face, sending her over sideways.

Mac Stennet, a fairly regular trucker customer, rushed to her side before I could shake off my stunned immobility.

“Ma’am, are you all right?” He knelt beside her. “Bailey, I think she’s out cold.”

“No,” she whispered weakly. “I’m just a little woozy. Can you help me up?”

“Sure, Miss, let me get my arm around you.” His muscle bound arms lifted her in one scoop. He shot me a “what now?” glance.

“Can you help her to my car?” I’d have to take her to my place. Her knees were bleeding, and her ankle had begun to swell.

She regained her sense of drama. She laid her head on Mac’s shoulder.

I opened the door for them.

Mac carried her like a bride to my vehicle. Her arms encircled his neck, and she moaned softly as if barely conscious.

My eyes wanted to roll so badly, but I resisted. I’d caused this whole thing anyway.

“Thank you, darling, so much. How providential that a big, strong man happened to be right where I needed him.” She gazed right into his eyes and fluttered her fake eyelashes.

The hulking truck driver gelled to putty. His cheeks actually blushed.

I wiped my hands on my apron and stepped in. “Please put her in the car. I’ll take her to my house and see about those cuts on her knees. Thanks, Mac.” He didn’t even hear me. I put my hand on his massive shoulder, but I’d rather have kicked him in the shins. “Mac!”

“Oh, uh, yes ma’am.” He blinked as if he didn’t know what to do.

I spurred him back from love to good works by opening up the back door.

His eyes finally showed coherence.

If her lips didn’t turn up into a stifled laugh, I’m not Bailey Brown.

Toppy came out gaping at the scene.

I handed him my apron and rolled my eyes back so far that I think I saw my brain.

He just smiled and waved me on. It took less than five minutes to drive up to the inn, but that gave me time to think about what she’d said just before she’d stormed out.

“I just wanted to see what happiness looks like.” Real pain came through in that sentence.

What a jerk I was not to think before I’d barked at her.

What had she been doing after she’d left Mr. Ballard’s office that day? She’d asked me for a job reference, and since I didn’t know what she could do besides flirt and pose, I didn’t respond.

“That’s all right,” she’d said. “They don’t usually ask me for references.” She’d backed out the door with a pageant smile and a wink.

I hadn’t thought of her much after she’d disappeared from my life. She wasn’t Scott’s type, at least I hoped not. I guess her wanting to know how she could help him set me off and reminded me of the day I found her in Darryl’s arms. She’d apologized, so I should give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe.

Melissa wasn’t exactly the pageant type, but she was just as beautiful.

My insecurities tried to creep back in.

“This is where you live?” The faux weakness in her voice disappeared.

“It’s the Bed and Breakfast that Scott’s mother ran before she died. I get to run it now. We’ll live here when we get married in a few weeks.” Did I emphasize ‘married’ a little too obviously?

“Really, Bailey? You’re still getting married so soon after his heart attack? You don’t want to risk his health that way, do you? He’s not even out of the hospital yet, is he?” That drawl of hers strummed at my last nerve.

“I agree with you about that, Phoebe. Scott seems determined to stand up on the planned day. I’ve begged him to reconsider, but he won’t hear of it. We’ve agreed to go by what Dr. Harkin says, and he tells us we can go ahead. Scott said he couldn’t wait to marry me.” Mean of me, but I had to let her know Scott West could not be on her possible boyfriend list.

“Come on, let’s get you in and clean up those knees. Are you sure you’re feeling all right? That door hit you in the face pretty hard.” I put my arm around her and helped her limp up the steps of the inn. I thought about depositing her into a rocking chair on the porch. She could enjoy the fresh air, which she probably needed. I decided it might be rude not to invite her in, although her presence in my beautiful future home felt strange.

“I’m fine.” She touched the side of her face. A little red, but not a mark on it.

We went inside and she gave the inn surroundings a cursory glance, but she didn’t offer any comment. Probably too provincial. I seated her on the couch and retrieved first aid supplies from the kitchen.

“The flower print on this fabric is quaint. But don’t all the books and doilies and little blankets make you feel claustrophobic?” Her upturned nose seemed to smell something.

“Our guests seem to like it.” I’d keep to myself the cherished knowledge that Scott’s mother decorated the inn with everything she’d loved.

“Have you ever stayed at The Regal in Austin? Crystal chandeliers, glass everywhere. I got to stay there for the pageant weekend.” Her eyes lit up.

I plopped down beside her and opened the first aid kit without a word. Maybe that would show her I wasn’t interested. Then again, why was I being so difficult? A pageant was kind of interesting. We weren’t exactly friends, but there was no reason not to get acquainted. Still, her description of The Regal seemed a slight to Shelley’s Heart B&B.

“We should have picked up your heel. It can probably be fixed.” I dabbed at the blood on her knees with gauze and peroxide. She winced. “Sorry, it’ll only sting for a little bit.” I continued doctoring her knees, but I noticed her eyes were tearing up. Was she in pain? Or upset again? I handed her a box of tissues from the coffee table. “Phoebe, what’s really going on?”

She gave way to real emotion crying into a wad of tissues.

I was not sure I wanted to know, but I’d opened the door.

“I have to have a job,” she sobbed. “No one will hire meeeee.” Wailing didn’t become her.

This outburst stunned me. I’d have thought there were enough male business owners in town that she’d have no trouble. I still didn’t know what she did exactly, but maybe she’d worked her way through Main Street already. I had no idea what to say, so I sat there speechless, patting her arm.

She sobbed, hiccupped a few more times, and then regained composure a few minutes later.

Trouble brewed with this woman, and I felt like a deer in the headlights.

“Do you,” she asked dropping both hands into her lap and giving me puppy dog eyes complete with fluttering eyelashes, “possibly think that you could use another waitress at the diner?”

Trapped. Just say no, just say no, just say no. A kinder answer formed in my panicked mind. “I don’t do the hiring, Phoebe. You’d have to talk to Toppy, Scott’s uncle. I don’t think they’re hiring right now, though. Have you tried the warehouse store on the edge of town?” She’d make a great greeter, except the men would never get past her to actually shop.

Her head cocked sharply sideways and an incredulous stare shot arrows at me.

OK, Phoebe, if you’re too good to work there, then I can’t help you.

“Well, I’ll just go find this Toppy. Maybe he can appreciate a hard worker, even if you can’t.” She stood to her feet and repeated the angry exit. This time she made it out the door. If she wanted to walk on a lopsided heel all the way back to the diner, she could have at it.

I’d better call Toppy and warn him that a tornado spiraled his way.

Even seeing her neglected purse couldn’t compel me to run after her. An envelope stuck out of its open top. The return address read, “Darryl Graham, TXINC3490203.”

So, Phoebe had a letter from Darryl. Comprehension just wouldn’t kick in. Had she answered it? Was that letter from him the first? I’d just have to let that be her problem. I wondered how long it would be before she missed her purse.

Toppy didn’t answer when I called the diner. That probably meant they were busy, and I should get back to work. I washed off the remaining effects of Phoebe with a cold splash of water to my face and a quick granola bar snack. Still feeling a little off center, I decided I’d work on Scott’s wedding present. I’d planned to make him a crocheted afghan in honor of his Mom. The soft yarn and repetition calmed me. A few deep breaths on the drive back to the diner a half hour later, and I felt much more prepared to finish out the day at work.

Tracy met me at the door holding a tray of dirty dishes. “Toppy hired that woman, that Phoebe, to work here.” She passed the tray to me.

My mouth dropped open, but no sound would come from my throat. I passed the tray back to her, dishes rattling.

“He did. She starts tomorrow. What’s worse, I have to train her.” She handed me the tray again and fisted both hands on her hips.

I stared at her in disbelief. No. No way. Where was he? I shoved the tray back at Tracy.

“I’m not training her, that’s all I’ve got to say.” She pushed the tray toward me again. “What am I doing? Sorry, I’m just totally freaked out.” She turned and walked toward the ladies room, shiny black ponytail bouncing.

I set the neglected tray on the nearest table. The path to the kitchen door across the room elongated. The more steps I took, the farther away it got. I finally made it to the door and pushed it open.

Toppy stood at the grill looking like the cat that ate the canary.

“Seriously? You’d think of hiring her? Miss ‘what the heck does she do, anyway’?” My high-pitched rant annoyed even me, not to mention Toppy, whose sheepish eyes turned dark as I spoke.

“I know. I’m not saying it’s a good idea; I’m just saying I had a feeling that she needed help, and that God wanted us to help her. It’s on a trial basis, anyway.” He turned to his work with a frown and scraped his grill with a passion.

Phoebe needed help, obviously, but flaunting her pageant poses in this diner? Flirting with all the truckers? OK, the real kicker would be having her for competition. What if Scott decided to ditch me for her? That thought made me freeze in place.

Toppy stopped stripping his grill and faced me. “You know, jealousy is a dangerous thing. You don’t have to worry about Scott, if that’s what this is all about.”

Busted. Was I that transparent? I couldn’t think of anything else to say. She needed help, and she had helped me when I needed it most.

“You might just spend some time praying and see what God might be trying to tell us. That’s all I’m saying.” His dark eyes turned sympathetic returning to their brilliant green. “I know it’s been crazy lately, and I probably shouldn’t have dropped that on you just now. We could use the help.”

“That’s all right. I hate to admit it, but you’re right. I’ll pray. I’ll try to get in a better frame of mind before she starts tomorrow. I’ll just get my apron and get back to work.” I managed a smile for him.

He winked at me.

The dining room buzzed with activity. As I made the rounds with coffee refills, I tried to imagine Phoebe taking orders and delivering meals. Salt-of-the-earth truckers might turn into whistling, ogling, cat-calling brutes. My mind’s eye conjured up an Old West bar fight over her.

Her pitiable sentence erased the vision. “I just wanted to see what happiness looks like.”

My heart took a turn. How could I not help her? Father, what should I do? The rest of the day I worked in a fog trying to make sense of the newest development in the saga that my life had become. I went home that evening with a plan to go to the prayer garden, but an ominous black cloud rolled in. From the kitchen window, I watched the storm overtake the blue November sky. This unexpected storm confirmed the reason why I hadn’t shared my secret desire to get married in the prayer garden. A church wedding would be beautiful and solidify our faith statement, but I felt so close to God in the prayer garden. So many things that drew Scott and me together happened there.

What if it rained and ruined the whole thing? The gazebo wasn’t big enough for all the guests. Cold I could handle, but rain would not be good. I’d just have to go forward with my church wedding.

I doubted Dr. Harkin’s opinion that Scott would be physically able to go through with the wedding and then a honeymoon. More than that, I knew he’d go right back to work the minute we got back. What if he had another heart attack?

Toppy had encouraged me to stop trying to take up the slack for him. It messed with his ego. He needed to feel useful, to feel back in control. The control issue made me nervous. Would that escalate after we married? Or was it perhaps just health related?

I didn’t even want to believe my strong, godly, sweet Scott could ever become an overbearing husband like my estranged father. Kevin Brown was so jealous of Mom that he didn’t like her to go anywhere without him. They’d argued so much.

I must think of more pleasant things. I smiled as I remembered my latest interaction with Scott. I’d run up for a visit between my prayer time with Mom and Toppy that morning and my shift at the diner. His mood had improved a little that day knowing he’d get to come home soon. He’d sung a random, made-up song about chocolate bars. His sweet tooth had kicked back in.

“Just get well and strong, and you can have anything you want.”

He’d whistled a playful “whee-whoo!” He wasn’t thinking about candy bars anymore.

“In moderation.”

“You’re blushing.” He grinned, obviously pleased that he’d rattled me.

I looked forward to the physical relationship of marriage, but now the thought haunted me. Where’s your faith, woman? I had to remember that Mom said people go through stages after a heart attack. With time, Scott would return to his old self. I wanted him back; I wanted the wedding to go on as planned. His work ethic, which ordinarily I’d be proud of, and had been accused of myself, weakened him. I could see it wearing him down from the first day I’d met him. He needed to let it go from time to time. Had he ever just sat and done nothing? He didn’t even like to watch TV that much.

He claimed that fishing relaxed him, but he’d never gone since I’d known him. Or if he had, he hadn’t taken me. Maybe guys needed to fish with guys. What did I know about men? My Mom and Gran raised me, both homebodies. They read for sport. So much to work out, to pray about. Happiness rocked me deep down, but the ominous possibility of death framed this lovely picture. I didn’t want to be left alone.

I flipped through my wedding notes. Everything else seemed to be in place, but I still needed to go and pick out a dress. Maybe Tracy, Liz, Mandy, and Macy would like to go with Mom and me to Dallas. It would be fun to pick out a dress together.

The thought of Gran’s wedding dress burned to a crisp in the fire marred my excitement a bit. I’d planned all my life to wear that dress. I’d just wear the precious gold cross necklace she’d given me to represent her love for me and Mom and all she meant to us. With that thought, I remembered I’d taken it off. I went into the living room to retrieve it. The tangled, golden knot I’d left on the coffee table wasn’t there. I dropped to the floor to check underneath and around it

The necklace was gone.