What Price Paradise (15 page)

“So what’s the problem? You look like someone killed your favorite hunting dog.”

Buddy hesitated, then sighed. “Tate and Abby.” He shook his head. “It’s kind of hard to explain. You know, when he first brought her home, I was kind of hoping that maybe things would be different for him. I mean, yeah, they barely talked to each other, but that was starting to change. Especially after Abby went to the doctor. Seemed like all they could do was talk about the baby. It was starting to get disgusting.”

Joe grinned at him. “Sounds to me like they’re getting along fine.”

“They were. Until Thursday evening.”

Joe tilted his hat back and propped his foot on the lower fence rail. “What happened Thursday?”

“Diane called.”

“Well, hell. I thought she was gone for two weeks?”

“I guess she came back early.”

“Damn. I was hoping they’d have more time together before the bi—” He cut the word off and glanced at Buddy. “What did Tate do?”

“He just walked out. Didn’t get home until almost one the next morning and he was falling-down drunk.” Buddy hooked his elbows over the rail. “You know how Tate is about drinking. The only other time I’ve ever seen him in that shape before was because of her.”

“Yeah, I know. But I guess sometimes it feels like the only way to ease the pain is to drown it. She must have really tore into him. Does Abby know?”

“She knows. I got up to see what was going on and she was helping him into bed. I don’t think they’ve said a word to each other since then. Abby must have stayed in her room all day yesterday. She didn’t even cook supper. This is the first time I’ve seen her since then.” He tilted his head at Abby. She was standing with a group of women at one end of the long table, wearing the same dress she’d gotten married in. Buddy suspected it was the only one she had. Tate was all the way across the yard, talking to a group of men, but his gaze kept drifting to Abby.

“Well, I guess that explains why Tate looks like death warmed over.” Suddenly Joe gave Buddy a piercing stare. “Did you say Abby stayed in her own room? They aren’t sleeping together?”

“No. Tate’s still in his old room. Abby is in Mom and Dad’s.”

“Well, hell. That’s not good. Not good at all. I sure was hoping that Tate had finally got rid of Diane, but it looks like she may still have her claws in him.” He straightened and pulled the brim of his hat back down. “Squirt, we may just have to save him from himself, and from Diane too.”

Buddy’s expression changed to one of alarm. “You don’t think Diane would show up here, do you?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me. She’s had Tate jumping like frog legs in hot grease for years. I can’t see her letting go easy now. Maybe I’ll just send a couple of the boys down to the main road to make sure she don’t get in.”

“I don’t know about this, Joe. If Tate really loves Diane maybe we shouldn’t interfere. It’s his life, after all.”

“Love her?” Joe scoffed. “Hell, boy, he don’t love her. He’s just so damn used to taking care of her that he can’t tell the difference. You know how Tate is. He’s so hung up on responsibility that he never stops to think he might be doing more harm than good.” He turned his head to gaze at Tate.

“Just take a look at that. He can’t keep his eyes off Abby. And she sure as hell didn’t get pregnant all by herself. Whether Tate realizes it or not, there’s something going on there. He just needs time to figure that out for himself and we’re going to give it to him.”

Buddy gazed at his brother raptly. Maybe Joe was right. And he sure didn’t relish the idea of having Diane as a member of the family. “What can we do, though?”

“Well, for starters, we can get them alone together for a while. That way they’ll have to talk to each other. Tate’s been trying real hard to talk everybody out of this chivaree tonight. I was sort of leaning in his direction, but now I think it’s a damn fine idea. And we’re going to have to do our best to keep Diane away from him.”

He took a step away from the fence, then stopped. “I’m gonna get some of the boys headed down to the road. You start spreading the word that the chivaree is still on no matter what Tate says.”

“You know if he finds out about this, he’s gonna kill us?”

“Let him.” Joe grinned. “He’ll thank us later. That God-nephew of mine is gonna need his momma and daddy both. I aim to see he gets them.”

“Niece!” Buddy yelled at his retreating back.

“Nephew,” Joe retorted without slowing and Buddy laughed.

* * * * *

Tate picked desultorily at the food on his plate, his gaze fixed on Abby. She’d been smiling and talking all evening long as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Talking to everyone but him, anyway. She was avoiding him like the plague. Not that he blamed her. If he were in her place, he probably wouldn’t be talking to him either.

Buddy dropped into the chair beside him and lifted a chicken leg off his plate.

“Help yourself.” He arched an eyebrow at his little brother.

“It’s not like you were gonna eat it,” Buddy mumbled around a mouthful.

He did have a point. Tate shoved the plate in front of him. “You may as well finish it off.”

Buddy dug in. “You and Abby in a race to see who can starve to death first?”

“She’s not eating?” Tate swung to look at her again, his gaze worried.

“Nope. Not a bite all evening.”

“She needs to eat.”

“Don’t worry about it. Hank’s been trying to cram food into her for hours. Sooner or later she’ll wear Abby down.”

Even as he watched, Hank stopped in front of Abby with a plate piled high and led her to a chair. Abby was shaking her head, but Hank wasn’t taking no for an answer. She stood there like a calico-covered mountain until Abby took a bite.

Tate nodded in satisfaction. “Good.” He glanced back at Buddy. “What were you and Joe talking about earlier?”

Buddy coughed. “Babies.”

“Babies.” Tate eyed him suspiciously.

“Yeah. He thinks it’s going to be a boy, I think it’s a girl. Wonder if I could get him to put his money where his mouth is?”

Joe was standing near the amateur band that had started playing several minutes ago, clapping his hands in time to the music. Puzzled, Tate looked around at the rest of the crowd.

“Why isn’t anyone dancing?”

Buddy looked disgusted. “Because they’re waiting on you, dolt. No one is going to dance until the bride and groom lead them off.”

“Shit. Do me a favor, will you? Tell everyone to go ahead. They don’t have to wait.”

“Nope.” Buddy shook his head. “Besides, it’s too late. I heard some of the guys talking a few minutes ago. If you don’t dance soon, they’re going to kidnap Abby and bring her to you. People are beginning to talk, Tate. This party is for the two of you and you haven’t been within spitting distance of her all evening long.”

“Well, hell.” Unconsciously, he uttered Joe’s favorite phrase. Abby was still sitting where Hank had left her, but she’d stopped eating as soon as the older woman’s back was turned. “I guess I might as well get it over with.”

He stood and walked toward Abby, feeling as though a thousand eyes were boring into his back. She looked up when he stopped next to her. “Dance with me?”

She hesitated then shook her head. “Thanks, but I’d rather not.”

“You have to, Abby.” He kept his voice low enough that the people around them wouldn’t be able to hear. “No one else will dance until we do. It’s a tradition. If we don’t do it voluntarily, they’ll try to force us into it.” He held out his hand. “Please?”

She glanced around at the people watching them, then sighed and took his hand. “Okay. But just this once.”

As soon as they reached the area set aside for dancing, the band started playing a slow song and there were whistles and cheers from the bystanders. Tate put his arms around her and they began to move in time to the music. They’d only taken a few steps when Abby stumbled. He caught her, pulling her even closer against him.

“Sorry.” Her face was pink. “I’ve never really danced with anyone before.”

“You’re doing fine.” He gazed down at her, but Abby seemed determined to look at anything except him.

“You look nice tonight.”

“Thank you. So do you.”

Her answer had the feel of a much-repeated phrase and Tate sighed. It was apparent that conversation wasn’t on her agenda. He decided to give it one more try.

“I think I might have talked the boys out of the chivaree.”

She finally looked up at him, her dark eyes meeting his. “Really? That’s good.” Her gaze went back to the crowd.

Tate was beginning to wonder if maybe he hadn’t made a mistake in talking folks out of the chivaree. Abby obviously wasn’t going to give him a chance to talk to her unless she was forced into it.

The torturous dance finally came to an end and Tate led her away from the people surging to take their place. As soon as they were clear, Abby pulled her hand from his and moved off through the crowd.

“Well, Hoss, that was about the sorriest excuse for a dance I’ve ever seen. Had about as much enthusiasm as a cow at a meat grinding factory.”

Tate glared at Joe. “What were you expecting? A clog?”

His friend chuckled. “At least that would have been more entertaining. Been a while since I’ve seen you fall on your face.”

“Yeah, well, stick around. Seems to be happening a lot lately.”

“That bad, huh?” He slapped Tate on the back. “Tell you what. Reilly’s got a couple of bottles stashed behind the house where the womenfolk can’t see them. What say we sneak off and have a nip?”

Tate’s stomach roiled violently at the very thought and he grimaced. “No, thanks. I’m never gonna touch another drop of liquor as long as I live.”

“Well, suit yourself.” He started toward the back of the house when Tate stopped him.

“Hey, Joe?”

“Yeah?” His friend turned around but continued walking backwards.

“I’ve been thinking. Maybe we shouldn’t call the chivaree off after all. Tradition and all that, you know.”

Joe grinned at him. “Don’t worry, Hoss. It never was called off to start with.” His laughter followed him into the darkness.

“Well, hell,” Tate commented to no one in particular.

* * * * *

Abby looked up sharply at the first clang of metal on metal. “What was that?” she asked the woman beside her. Suddenly she was surrounded by a laughing throng of women.

“Now, don’t you worry, sugar. Just the chivaree startin’ is all,” Hank told her as someone began beating on a pot with a wooden spoon. “You come along with us now and we’ll get you all fixed up.”

“No, wait.” Abby tried desperately to stop their forward motion. “There’s been a mistake. It was called off.”

Hank’s huge belly shook when she laughed. “Why sugar, every gal deserves a proper send-off. You didn’t really think we’d slight you, now did you?”

Abby’s frantic gaze swept the yard as she was half-carried, half-pushed onto the front porch. She caught the barest glimpse of Tate before he was surrounded by a similar mass of men. Pandemonium was breaking out everywhere and the noise was deafening.

The women didn’t stop until they were in the bedroom, jostling each other for space. Before Abby was even aware of what they were doing, she was stripped naked.

“Please!” She tried her best to cover all the pertinent parts with her arms. “What are you doing?”

“You know,” Hank said thoughtfully, “if this were the old country we’d just leave you like that.” She patted Abby on the shoulder. “Thank God we’re a little more civilized these days. Mae, hand me that bag.”

Mae shoved the bag into Hank’s hand, her head tilted to one side as she listened to the song that floated up from the window. It was the first time Abby realized the men were singing. Her face turned blood red at the bawdy lyrics, but the other women were laughing.

“You know, Hank,” Mae commented. “That middle boy of yours has a real fine voice.”

“He does, don’t he? Takes after his Pa, God rest his soul.”

Abby saw a flash of emerald green silk in Hank’s hands just before it dropped over her head and she breathed a sigh of relief. Anything to get covered up was fine with her.

“Raise your arms, sugar. There ya go. We all chipped in together to get this gown for you.” She brushed the silk down Abby’s body. “Every bride should have something fancy to wear to bed with her man. Puts a little iron in the old flagpole. Not that you’re gonna need any help. Look right pretty, you do.”

Hank turned to search the mass of women. “Jean? Where are you?” She spied the woman she was looking for and tugged her to the front. “You do her hair. You’re better at that than I am. And Lilla, you start lighting the candles.”

“Candles?” Abby blurted as Jean began tugging on her hair.

“Yep, makes it nice and romantic. That’s it, Jean, but just one clip.” Hank directed. “Want to make it easy for Tate to get it down. Nothing a man likes better than turning a woman’s hair loose. Well, except maybe for one thing.” She laughed loudly at her own joke.

There was a loud banging on the door and the sound of men’s voices from the hall.