The Comeback Girl (15 page)

“Wonderful,” she’d whispered against his chest before closing her eyes, obviously replete.

Wonderful was too mild an adjective in his opinion. They’d bonded, swapping souls in the process. He’d known where she was at every second of their joining. When she’d climaxed, he’d been right there, too.

He turned his chin and squinted at the digital clock. Eleven thirty-seven. He let out a small sigh of relief. He didn’t want to face an irate Tyler and Zach a second time.

“Kris, honey,” he whispered, nuzzling her hair.

The wispy curls teased his nose.

“Too early,” she complained like a sleepy child.

Too late.
“I know, sweetheart, but Zach will be home alone if we don’t leave soon.”

She lifted her head, blinking. It only took a couple of seconds for her to get her bearings. Donnie knew the minute reality hit her—where she was and what they’d done.

“Oh,” she said, sitting up.

The realization that she was naked arrived a few seconds later—giving Donnie enough time to memorize the image of her perfect breasts bathed in moonlight. She clutched the sheet to her chin. “What time is it?”

“Time to take you home.”

She leaned across him for a better look at the clock then gave a small gasp. “We have to hurry.”

So much for sentimentality, he thought, watching her gather her clothes. She dashed into the bathroom. The door closed with a bang. Donnie felt a pang of regret. He wished they were an old married couple who felt comfortable dressing and undressing in each other’s presence.

Sighing, he rose and pulled on his shorts and jeans. He’d just stooped to pick up his shirt, when she flew out of the bathroom. “Quick. I don’t want them to see me like this.”

Them?
“Like what?” he said moodily.

She froze. “Like this.” She touched her lips and ran her hand down the front of her blouse. “Like I’ve just experienced the best sex of my life.”

That eased some of his crankiness until she ruined his mood by adding, “Maybe I should jog home.”

“Like hell.” He buttoned his shirt without looking to see if the ends lined up. He wedged his bare foot into a shoe. “No date of mine walks home.”

“Not walk. Run. It’s almost midnight.”

“Yeah, but you’re not Cinderella,” he said, hopping on one foot when the tongue of the shoe blocked his effort. “Relax. I’ll get you home in time.”

She pointed at his shoeless foot and started to laugh. “Maybe
you’re
Cinderella, and the Forerunner was a pumpkin in another life.”

He finally got both shoes on and grabbed her hand. “Let’s go.”

The car was cold, and he could see a glistening of frost on the roof as they backed out of the garage. Autumn was officially here. Soon people would be heading off to visit family and friends for the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays. More travel. And Donnie wouldn’t be a part of it. But the idea of leaving Gold Creek—and Kristin—no longer appealed to him the way it had.

“Would you still marry me even if I wasn’t running for office?” he asked. She was sitting upright, stiff and on edge.

“You have to run.”

Since there was so little traffic, he looked at her long enough to see that she was as serious as she sounded. “Why? I could still get my old job back.”

“No, Donnie,” she said emphatically. “You know you want this opportunity.”

“But what we have between us is great, Kris. The craziness of a campaign could—”

She interrupted him. “I came home to make amends for what I’ve done in the past and to show people that I’ve grown up. I’m not afraid to do this, so don’t even think about not running. You take on Magnus, and I’ll handle things on the home front. We do it the way we planned or we don’t do it. I’ll take my chances with Tyler’s lawyers and you can hire a housekeeper.”

He slowed to round the corner near her house.
“But what about tonight? What did tonight mean to you?”

“We needed tonight to bring our relationship full circle. We parted with such anger between us that we never really healed. Now, we’re fixed. And now we can get on with our lives.”

It wasn’t the declaration of love he was looking for.

They drove in silence until he pulled into her driveway. Thankfully, there was no Mercedes waiting. She turned slightly and looked at him. Tears glistened in her eyes, but her chin lifted with resolve. “I’ll see you at the wedding.” She opened the car door and dashed away before he could even kiss her good-night. At
the
wedding. “At
our
wedding, you meant to say,” he muttered. “
Our
wedding.”

K
RIS PEEKED
from behind the curtain to watch the Forerunner back out and drive away. Tears clouded her vision and her throat burned.

Donnie was a good man, and he loved her—maybe even as much as she loved him, but Kristin knew what happened to people who lost sight of their dreams. He’d given up his chance to see the world. He deserved a chance to protect a corner of it. Gold Creek needed him as much as he needed this opportunity. Kris had ruined his plans once. She refused to take responsibility for that again.

Kristin closed the door of her bathroom and turned on the light. Her hair was a disaster. Her lips
and eyes puffy, although not for the same reason. She splashed cold water on her face then dried it with a towel.

She sighed and said aloud, “Maybe when I’m eighty-four, people will point at me and say, ‘There goes Kristin Sullivan. One of the Sullivan sisters. Created quite a stir in her day, but then she settled down and did pretty good for herself.’”

At the moment, she couldn’t imagine how that might happen, but hopefully, she’d regain some optimism by morning.

The sound of a key in the door made her hurry through her ablutions. She stripped off her clothes and put on her faded chenille robe. With a deep breath, she reached for the knob and prepared to face her son.

She stepped into the hallway just as Zach and Sarge came toward her. “Hi, honey, how was your evening?”

He sighed wearily. “We watched a DVD at his mother’s.
Blade Runner.
It was okay.”

There was so much more she wanted to say. She ached to hug him, but she didn’t dare. “You’re probably pretty tired, huh? It’s been a busy week, and Aunt Jen is coming over at eight to help us pack. We don’t have to get everything moved right away, but Sam is going to have some carpentry work done here once we’re out.”

She flicked off the light and started for her room.

“Mom?”

She turned around. “Yes?”

“Is it true you and Donnie fell in love when you were about my age?”

She nodded. “His grandparents lived here, and I’d see him when he came to visit. I thought he was the cutest boy alive.”

“So you’re marrying him for real tomorrow? Not just to keep my dad from winning custody of me?”

Kristin sighed. The last thing Kris wanted was to have her son go through life with a mangled perception of love. But she couldn’t lie. And despite what she and Donnie had shared tonight, she didn’t completely trust her feelings. Love had let her down before. Badly.

“People get married for all kinds of reasons. Donnie and I care about each other a great deal. We’re trying to do something good for all of us. You and Lucas. And even Gold Creek. Donnie will make a wonderful sheriff.”

He shook his head and reached down to touch Sarge’s head. “Well, if you ask me, love sucks.”

He walked away before she could correct him, but she had to admit he had a point. Tomorrow she was marrying the love of her life, but she still didn’t know if she was doing it for the right reasons. What could be more pathetic than that?

Z
ACH HAD ONLY ATTENDED
two weddings in his life. His mother’s cousin’s when he was a baby, and last spring when his friend Ryan’s older sister got married. That turned out to be a mega party at the country club and Ryan got to invite four friends so he wouldn’t be bored.

Zach hadn’t found it boring, although he’d never have confessed that to his friends. He’d liked watching Ryan’s family. Especially when Ryan’s sister danced with her younger brother.

Zach wasn’t sure what to make of his mother’s wedding. For something that was supposed to be quiet and small, the preparation seemed to hum with a peculiar energy. By the time Zach and his mother had arrived at the old bordello an hour earlier, balloons, streamers, tables and chairs had been set up in the backyard.

Zach was glad they’d decided to leave Sarge at home—one tail wag and the pretty decorations would have been history.

“What if it rains?” he asked Andi’s husband. Jonathan had enlisted Zach’s help to set up folding chairs in front of the lattice arch that led to what
his mother called the “rose garden.” It was mostly weeds as far as Zach could tell.

Jonathan was an okay guy, and probably the smartest person Zach had ever met—except, maybe, his father. Zach wasn’t quite sure what he thought about Tyler.

“No chance. Barometer’s holding. Front’s to the north,” Jonathan replied. He straightened up and looked around. Only a few chairs remained in the stack that had been donated by the Garden Club. “I think I can handle this, Zach, but Jenny’s never going to finish that arch with the twins’ help.”

Zach didn’t like to admit it, but he got a kick out of the twins. They were so cute. It was hard not to laugh at Tucker’s antics, and Lara had the sweetest giggle.

“Gotcha,” he said, picking up Lara, who was trying to climb the ladder behind her mother.

The little girl let out a shrill cry—until she saw who was holding her, then she burst into excited chatter. Jenny looked down and smiled. “Hi, Zach. Thanks, honey boy. You’re a peach.”

Her smile made him feel good inside.

She was looping artificial greenery across the top of the weathered redwood trellis. The dark leaves were sprinkled with tiny white flowers. “Need some help?”

“Hand me another strand from the florist’s box?”

Zach put Lara down. She promptly set off after her brother, who was trying to tackle Harley, Andi’s
puppy. Zach picked up the plastic wreath. It was pretty and the finished effect was nice, but he still didn’t understand why they were going to this bother.

“Why all this decoration stuff? You know the wedding isn’t like…real, you know.”

Jenny’s dress fluttered in the light breeze. It was sort of old-fashioned looking with long sleeves and lace under her throat. “Of course it’s for real,” she said, stepping down. When they were eye-to-eye, she said, “Zach, this wedding is the smartest thing your mother has done since she had you.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that. Even though Jenny seemed to think otherwise, Zach knew why Donnie and his mom were getting married. Partly to look after Donnie’s kid and his house while Donnie ran for sheriff and partly so Zach’s dad wouldn’t take him away. But the question he really wanted to ask was why didn’t any man fall in love with his mother like in the movies? Even his dad wasn’t interested.

On the drive home last night, when it was dark and the music was low, Zach had asked his father whether there was any chance he and Kristin might get back together if she didn’t marry Donnie.

“Zach, it’s not a matter of us getting
back
together. We never were together except long enough to make you.” Then he made a sort of strangled laugh, like he couldn’t quite believe it happened. “That’s how special you are, you know. A tiny window of opportunity opened in this vast bleak
ness, and two unhappy people found a way to bring a little joy to each other. And you were the result.”

Zach had never heard anyone except a teacher talk so philosophically, and he hadn’t known what to say. Eventually, his father turned up the music on the CD player, as if he felt uncomfortable.

“Thanks, sweetie,” Jenny said when they were done decorating the arch. “Tucker, Lara, let’s go find your daddy so Mommy can help Auntie Kristin get beautiful.” She pushed the ladder into Zach’s hands and smiled. “Will you put this away for me? Your mother has always preferred the natural look, but that won’t do for today.”

Zach smiled. The way Jenny said it wasn’t a put-down. Both of his aunts seemed to care about his mother, and Zach liked that. It almost made the move to Gold Creek worthwhile.

As he carried the ladder to the shed behind the empty garage, he pictured his exchange with his mother last night. Zach had been shocked by her appearance. Her face was bright pink, as if she’d scrubbed it in an effort to keep him from seeing how miserable she was, but the redness in her eyes and the way her bottom lip trembled told him she’d been crying.

After talking to her, he’d made up his mind never to fall in love. It just wasn’t worth the pain.

“I know what you’re thinking,” a voice said as Zach rounded the corner by the gate.

He nearly jumped out of his skin. How could someone as old and rickety as Ida Jane sneak up
on him? “Huh?” he said, playing dumb. It worked with most adults.

She just gave him a knowing look and motioned him closer. He liked Ida, even if she sometimes made him uncomfortable. She was soft, and her smell reminded him of a basket of potpourri his mother used to have. It had gotten spilled during one of their moves.

The thought made his throat feel as if he’d swallowed a bunch of razor blades. And something suspiciously like tears formed in his eyes. He would have bolted, but Ida latched on to his hand and wouldn’t let go. Who knew old ladies were so strong?

“Let’s sit down. Out of the way. Before someone runs us over.”

Her cane made a crunching noise on the pebbled path. She held on tight with her free hand. He helped her sit down on the curved redwood bench. “Your mama taught you such nice manners,” she said. “I’m so proud of her. I wonder why she doesn’t know that.”

She sounded puzzled, and Zach sat down, thinking he might be able to tell Ida why his mother was the way she was. But before he could speak, she said, “Your mother was so tiny when she was born we almost lost her. The nurses kept a round-the-clock watch. I sat by her little isolette and prayed like I never prayed before—or since, I’m ashamed to say.”

She closed her eyes a moment, then said, “Grow
ing up, she was always behind the other two girls, but Kristin never gave up.” Ida smiled as if she was seeing the little girls playing in front of her. “She was sweet and pretty and people made allowances for her—teachers, coaches. Nobody wanted to see her fail. At anything.”

Zach wasn’t sure he understood the point of the story.

“Most times that kind of pampering spoils a person. It makes them smug or cocky, but with your mother it was just the opposite. She didn’t believe she could do anything on her own. Without help. And she never really had to—until she went away.”

Zach decided to ask the question that had been bothering him for weeks. “What would have happened if she hadn’t gotten knocked up…I mean—”

Ida’s cackle made him look around nervously. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to share. “Who knows? But if you ask me, getting pregnant was the best thing she could have done. It got her out of the nest, and even though I would have helped her if I’d known about you, your mother felt she had to raise you alone. To prove something to herself.”

She looked at him and nodded as if something just made sense to her. “She might never have done that if you hadn’t come along.”

Surprisingly, Zach felt better than he had all day. All month, in fact. He looked at Ida Jane and
smiled. “Do you think this wedding is going to work out?”

She blinked several times. “Wedding?” she said, suddenly looking around in confusion. “But Jenny and Josh already got married. Didn’t they?”

Zach had heard his mother and her sisters talk about Ida getting old and forgetting stuff. There was a name for it, but he couldn’t remember what they said to do when she dipped out. He looked around for help, but nobody was near. With his heart in his throat, he squeezed her hand and said, “Kristin and Donnie are getting married today.”

He felt the tension leave her—as if someone had let the air out of a balloon. She smiled, her eyes a bit watery. “Oh, good. They’ve loved each other forever.”

Zach wanted to believe her, but how could he trust anything she said? She was a sweet lady but she was so old.

“T
EN INVITATIONS
,” Kristin cried, batting Jenny’s hand away. The tip of her finger connected with the hot curling iron, and she yelped. “That’s all we gave out. How did ten invitations multiply into that—” she pointed to the activity in the backyard “—that Cecil B. DeMille production?”

She popped her smarting finger into her mouth and continued to stare at the crowd that seemed to grow each time she blinked.

Jenny grabbed a hunk of hair and twisted it up
to Kristin’s scalp. Kris sighed. “Why are you doing this to me? I have more curls than Harpo Marx.”

“I’m taming the beast. Sit down and let me work,” Jenny ordered, using the curling rod as leverage to get Kris back to the stool in front of Ida Jane’s vanity.

Kris slumped in a pout. “This is crazy. How did word get out so fast?”

In the mirror, she saw her sisters look at each other. “Well, I did tell a couple of people to come,” Jenny admitted. “Old friends who I knew would be hurt if we left them out.”

Andi nodded. “Me, too. And Ida called a few.”

“You let Ida near a phone?” Kris wailed.

Jenny took a deep breath and grabbed Kristin by the shoulders. “Face it, Kris. You’re a Sullivan triplet. Of course people want to see you get married.”

Kris’s stomach felt as if someone had scoured it with bleach. She appealed to Andi for help. Andi was the pragmatic one; she’d find a way to salvage the situation before it got out of hand.

Andi reached into the pocket of her loose-fitting aubergine silk suit and produced a delicate lace hankie, which she used to dab her eyes. Sniffling, she said, “It’s going to be perfect. The sun is shining and it’s warm and the flowers are so you…oh, it’s perfect.”

Kris would have shaken her head, but Jenny was mauling another section of hair. Her already tur
bulent emotions gathered at the base of her skull, causing the steady pain to throb.

“Girls, I need a moment alone,” she said. “Please.”

Jenny administered a cloud of hair spray before leaving. Kris didn’t even glance in the mirror. She rose and walked to the window again. The parking lot was almost full. She dug her fingers at the source of her pain and rolled her shoulders to try to ease the tension.

Suddenly, a hand brushed her fingers away and two thumbs applied a solid, warm pressure to the spot. “Are you okay?” Donnie asked softly, his breath close to her ear. “Headache? Or cold feet?”

She closed her eyes, unable to stop the sensations of pleasure that enveloped her like a hug. The pain in her head disappeared as the smell of him—a woodsy cologne and fresh air—filled her senses. Her hands dropped to her sides. “Both. But I’m doing better now,” she mumbled.

His sigh caressed her shoulder where the scooped neckline of her dress revealed bare, white skin. “Good. It’s turning into a circus out there. I came to warn you.”

“Is Gloria here?” She tensed, but he splayed his hands against her shoulders and massaged until she relaxed.

“No. Both Gloria and her son have shown commendable restraint, whereas my ex took one look at the size of the party and decided to stay.”

His cheerful teasing made her step away and turn
to face him. He quickly averted his eyes. “Technically, you’re a bride and I’m a groom.”

She took his face in her hands and made him look at her. “This is getting way out of hand, Donnie.”

His eyes narrowed just a fraction, then he smiled. A Donnie smile. “It’s Gold Creek, Kris. What did you expect?” He looked at her tenderly. “Are you still okay with Sam announcing my candidacy today? The campaign consultant he hired thinks it’s a great idea.” He lowered his head and pressed a soft sweet kiss to her lips. “If you don’t like it, tell me and I’ll cancel the plan.”

After one last quick glance out the window, she sighed. “No, it is a great opportunity.” She looked at him. “Do we have enough food?”

Again, he smiled. “Everyone brought food. And tables. And chairs. And coolers full of beer.”

She had to grin, too. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a party.”

He offered her his elbow. “Shall we go?”

For the first time, Kris looked at him, from head to toe. She inhaled sharply. “Oh my gosh, Donnie, you look gorgeous.”

He was dressed in a western-style tuxedo with a skinny black tie, pearl buttons and black cowboy boots. His hair looked as though Jenny might have gotten hold of him, too. The waves were right out of a fashion magazine.

He threw back his head and laughed. “Well, thank you. I didn’t want to be completely over-
shadowed by my bride, but I don’t think I was successful. All eyes will be on you.”

His look made Kris regret the trouble she’d given Jenny over this dress—a tea-length ivory lace gown with seeded pearls across the bodice. “It’s too fancy,” she’d argued when Jenny had demanded they buy it. “It’s too much money.”

Jenny had insisted on paying for it. And Jonathan and Andi had offered to cover the cost of the reception. “We want you to be as happy as we are,” Andi had said with a gushiness that was so
not
Andi.

“Oops, I made you cry,” Donnie said, pulling her to Ida’s bed—a Queen Anne platform with a lace coverlet. “Let me get you a tissue.”

He presented her with a whole box then waited while she dabbed her nose and eyes. Jenny had insisted on makeup today, too. “At the risk of more waterworks, I need to tell you something,” Donnie said, pulling up the dressing-table stool so they were sitting eye-to-eye.

She swallowed noisily. “Is this about last night?”

He nodded.