Ready to Wed (3 page)

“Good,” said the three sisters almost in unison.

“What I must know,” said their aunt in a hushed tone, “is whose car is that parked out in front?”

Louise gave her the basic lowdown on their new guest.

“Really? A dream?” asked Ethel with a shake of her head. “How extremely unusual.”

“Yes,” agreed Alice. “We were just going through Acorn Hill’s list of available bachelors.”

“And we were surprised to discover it’s a rather long list,” said Jane.

“Well,” said their aunt. “I certainly hope you didn’t include
my
Lloyd on it.”

Jane laughed. “Well, I think Belle might be young for Lloyd.”

“How old is she?”

“I don’t know for sure,” said Louise, “but I would estimate thirty-something.”

“And she’s quite a showy dresser,” added Jane. “She sort of goes with her car.”

“What does she do?” asked Ethel.

“She sells Angel Face cosmetics and she apparently makes a good living at it too. She’s already offered to give me a free facial.” Louise frowned. “I told her I’d consider it, but I really do not intend to—”

“I think a free facial would be perfectly lovely,” said
Ethel as she patted her cheek. “Tell your guest I’d be happy to comply.”

“Why don’t you tell her yourself, Auntie,” said Jane. “Join us for dinner tonight and you can meet Belle.”

Ethel beamed. “Well, thank you very much, Jane, I’d love to come.”

“Speaking of which,” said Jane, “I better get started on that cornbread while the oven’s still hot.” She busied herself getting out a bowl and ingredients.

The sisters and their aunt chatted away pleasantly about the happenings in their small town. Eventually, Louise left to check the inn’s e-mail for possible reservations, and Alice went upstairs to change out of her uniform, leaving only Ethel and Jane in the kitchen.

“May I help you with anything?” offered Ethel.

“No thanks,” said Jane. “I think it’s under control. It’s really a simple meal. I hope Belle won’t mind.”

“I’m sure she’ll be grateful,” said Ethel. “After all, you girls run a bed-and-breakfast, not a bed-and-three-f-meals.” She stood. “The rain seems to have let up. I think I’ll head back home.”

Alone in her kitchen, Jane tuned the radio to the jazz station, humming along as she made a salad. But when “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes” began to play, she stopped slicing the tomato. She just stood there and listened, and for
some reason those old lyrics just got to her. She found herself thinking about San Francisco; the Blue Fish Grille, where she had been chef; and finally about Justin. And, before she knew what hit her, she was crying. She wasn’t sobbing, but tears were running down her cheeks. And she had not even sliced an onion.

“Oh, don’t be such an emotional basket case,” she admonished aloud as she stood in front of the kitchen window, looking out at the gray sky and blotting her tears with a rough paper towel. Maybe Alice was right. Maybe she did need a checkup.

“Hello,” a female voice called from behind her.

Jane turned to see Belle standing in the doorway of the kitchen. She tossed the damp paper towel in the trash and forced a smile. “Did you have a good nap?”

Belle nodded. “Indeed I did, but I was afraid to sleep too long. Otherwise I might be awake for half the night.” She peered at Jane. “Is something wrong?”

Jane shook her head. “No, no.” She pointed to the radio as she turned it off. “I think that song was just getting to me.”

“Oh, I understand completely,” said Belle, waving her hand. “Music can do that to me too. Sometime I’ll hear an old Patsy Cline song about love gone awry, and just like poor ol’ Patsy, I fall to pieces. It can be quite humiliating.” She eyed the basket of blueberry muffins still on the kitchen
table. “You don’t suppose I might beg a muffin, do you? I am absolutely starving. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

“Of course,” said Jane. “Help yourself. Would you like some coffee or tea to go with it?”

“Oh, coffee would be divine.” Belle sat down at the table. “It might help me to keep my eyes open tonight too.” She stifled a yawn. “I’m just totally worn out from driving all night.”

“Why on earth did you do that?” asked Jane as she set a mug of coffee in front of Belle.

Belle grinned as she spooned sugar into the mug. “It’s sort of hard to explain. I was just so excited after that dream I’d had the night before that I spent the day getting my things in order so that I could leave. And then after it was all taken care of, I thought, why not just go now? So I did.”

Jane nodded. “Cream?”

“Yes, please.”

Jane set the cream pitcher on the table, then returned to making her salad as Belle chattered away.

“I suppose I was afraid that if I didn’t leave right away like that, well, I was worried that I might just chicken out. The dream seemed so very real. Yet I’m sure that most folks must think I’m crazy. My mama is always saying how I’m too impulsive, the way I go around jumping from the frying pan right smack into the fire.” She chuckled. “But I think a
person needs to grab life by the horns, you know, go for the gusto and make the most of it.”

Jane nodded without turning around.

“I wasn’t always like that,” Belle continued. “I used to be a right careful kind of person. I worked the same old job—as a receptionist at a law office in Atlanta—for ten solid years, straight out of business college.” She sighed. “And here I’d grown up in an itty-bitty town, and I started just hating living in the big city, but it was like I was stuck.”

“Then what happened?” asked Jane.

“My sister died.”

Jane turned and looked at her. “I’m sorry.”

Belle nodded. “Thank you. She was my baby sister and the sweetest gal you’d ever meet. But in her senior year of college, she got cancer and went real quick. We were all shocked. And a couple months after she died, it hit me that I wasn’t living the life I wanted to live. I didn’t like where I lived and I asked myself what I really wanted to do and then I just did it.”

“And what was that?”

“Making women look beautiful.” She sighed happily. “Nothing else gives me quite the satisfaction of helping a woman to look her very best.” Now Belle got up and walked over to where Jane was chopping green onions. “Take you, for instance.”

“Me?” asked Jane uneasily.

“You’re very pretty for an older woman.”

Jane tried not to laugh. Here Ethel had said almost the same thing, only using the term “young” to describe her. It really was a matter of perspective.

“I’m sorry,” said Belle quickly. “I don’t mean to say you’re old. Just older than me. But you’re really pretty.”

“Thank you,” said Jane uncertainly.

“But you don’t make the most of your looks.”

“Well, I … uh, I’m not really—”

“No excuses, Jane.” Belle shook her index finger at her. “I’m sure you’re busy and all, what with cooking and gardening and whatnot, but like I tell all my clients, you gotta take time out for yourself. If a woman doesn’t watch out for her own appearance, no one else will either.”

“But I—”

“No buts,” said Belle. “This is what I’m going to do for you. Tonight, after dinner, I’m going to give you the complete Super-duper Diva Delight. It’s a treatment of my very own invention.”

“Super-duper Diva Delight?” Jane echoed, imagining some kind of sweet confection piled high with whipped cream and topped with a cherry.

“That’s right. By the time I’m done with you, you won’t know what hit you.”

Jane nodded cautiously, not knowing what might be in store for her. “But I thought you were going to give Louise a—”

“Oh, I can do you both at the same time.” She clapped her hands. “In fact, I can do Alice too. I haven’t met her yet, but I’m guessing anyone in the nursing profession could use a little TLC and pampering too. And that’s just what I plan to do for all three of you.”

“Well, I don’t know—”

“I won’t take no for an answer, Jane.” Belle put her empty coffee cup in the sink. “Now, I’ll get some things from the car, do some unpacking and freshen up, and tonight we girls are going to have some fun!”

Jane was about to mention that Ethel was joining them for dinner too, but then Belle was gone, happily humming as she hurried down the hall. Well, at least Belle had one willing volunteer with Ethel. If all else failed, Jane felt certain that her aunt would be thrilled to receive the Super-duper Diva Delight treatment, whatever it turned out to be.

Jane was just putting the finished salad in the fridge when Alice appeared. “I’ll set the table,” she offered.

“Thanks.”

“I just met Belle,” said Alice as she counted out settings of their everyday dishes. “She seems like an interesting character.”

“Did she tell you about the Super-duper Diva Delight?” asked Jane.

“She did mention that she had a surprise for us, an after-dinner treat.”

So Jane filled her in.

“Hmm.”
Alice nodded slowly. “Maybe that’ll be nice.”

Jane frowned. “I don’t know.”

“Well, surely it can’t hurt us. And who knows, it might even be fun.”

After setting the table in the dining room, Alice returned to the kitchen. Jane was stirring the lentil soup, and Alice put a gentle arm around her shoulders, giving her a squeeze. “I’m sorry this dreary weather has been getting to you, Jane,” she said. “I hope the forecasters will be right and it’ll get sunny and warm soon.”

Jane sighed. “And I’ll try to be a little sunnier too.”

“Oh, I almost forgot,” said Alice, “I picked up the mail on my way in this afternoon. There was something for you, Jane. I put it in your room.”

Jane continued stirring. “Thanks. I’ll get it later.”

“I don’t mean to seem nosy,” Alice continued, “but I noticed it was from San Francisco.”

Jane stopped stirring. “Really?”

Alice nodded.

“Did you notice who it was from?”

“I wasn’t prying, Jane. But his handwriting is rather bold and easy to read, and then of course, the name Hinton caught my eye.”

“It’s from Justin?”

“Yes.” Alice seemed to avoid eye contact as she took the wooden spoon from Jane. “Do you want me to stir this for you?”

“Thank you. Just turn the flame down to low when it starts to bubble.”

“Certainly.”

Jane hurried up the two flights of stairs to find a white envelope sitting on her dresser. Sure enough, it was from San Francisco and it was from her ex-husband, Justin Hinton. She slowly opened the envelope, removed and unfolded the one-page handwritten letter, and read.

Jane read the letter two more times, trying to decipher the hidden message that seemed tucked between the lines there. Or was she just imagining something? What did this letter mean? Why did Justin have this sudden need to speak to her? Then, realizing it was almost time to serve dinner and the cornbread muffins were surely done by now, she tucked the letter into a drawer and hurried downstairs.

Alice gave her a curious glance as Jane removed the muffins from the oven. Jane busied herself pouring the soup into the warmed tureen and taking the salad from the fridge. Alice helped her carry these things to the dining room, never once questioning her about the letter. But Jane knew that Alice, although too courteous to ask, wondered what was up.

Still, Jane wasn’t sure she wanted to discuss Justin’s letter with anyone just yet. Not even with sweet Alice. In a way, Jane felt she was in a slight state of shock. The idea of
Justin showing up and intruding on her life in Acorn Hill was very unsettling. And yet she was curious. What was it he wanted to tell her?

Chapter Three