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Authors: Katie Ganshert

Wildflowers from Winter (22 page)

BOOK: Wildflowers from Winter
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Bryan and Evan exchanged somber looks while Bethany took a sip.

“No,” Bryan said. “Gavin can’t make it. And Amanda left. Spring semester doesn’t start for a couple weeks, but she wanted to get back.”

Diane eyed the two brothers before slapping Evan on the wrist. “Speaking of that little brother of yours, wouldn’t Bethany here look lovely on his arm?”

Bethany coughed several times and forced the water down her throat.

“Are you okay?” Robin asked.

Amy patted Bethany’s back. “Isn’t Gavin a bit young?”

“He’s twenty-four,” Diane said. “And shoot me dead if Bethany is a day over that.”

Maybe any other woman would be flattered by Diane’s words. Bethany was not. She took her hand away from her mouth. “I’m twenty-eight.”

Diane’s chin dropped. To her credit, she seemed genuinely shocked.

“And she has a boyfriend.”

Bethany’s gaze snapped to Evan, who had spoken the words, but he fiddled with his rolled-up silverware and stared at the tablecloth. So far, he hadn’t looked at her once. Not even when he pulled out her chair. Obviously he was still upset about the Realtor.

Diane placed her elbow on the table, rested her chin on the top of her fist, and wagged her eyebrows. “And where’s the lucky man? He’s handsome, I’m sure.”

Bethany brought her napkin to her mouth and used one corner to pat her bottom lip dry. “He moved to Atlanta. We’re … no longer together.”

Diane leaned closer. “So you’re available?”

Heat crept up her neck. Every single eye except Evan’s looked in her
direction. Available? She hadn’t thought of herself in that way for the past three years. And even if she was interested, Diane setting her up with Evan’s younger brother would not be a good idea. “I’m not looking right now. So no, I’m not available.”

“Until you find the right guy, you mean?”

Right for what?
“Sure, until then.”

Diane tapped Evan’s forearm and arched an eyebrow. A muscle in his jaw pulsed out and in, and he gave his head a very discreet shake—something Bethany wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t been watching him from the corner of her eye. Obviously, he didn’t want her dating Gavin any more than she did. She bristled at the implications. He probably thought she wasn’t good enough for anyone in his family. She turned her attention to the front of the hall.

A thin man dressed in a tuxedo, most likely Mayor Ford, stepped onto the platform, and the humming chatter quieted around them. Bethany turned and scanned the banquet hall, which looked filled to capacity. The mayor’s family sat in the seats behind the lectern while he tapped the microphone, greeted the guests, and informed them all that dinner would be served before the speeches and awards. After finishing his announcement, he helped his family off the stage and sat at the table directly in front, two away from their own.

Bethany rubbed her thumb over the hem of the linen napkin she’d draped across her lap just as a server came and took their drink orders. She requested the Merlot, her mouth watering for the rich, intoxicating flavor. When the server finished pouring, her fingertips clasped the long stem of the glass, twirled the scarlet liquid in rhythmic circles, and inhaled the fragrance of the wine, just as Dominic had taught her over the years. When she brought her lips to the crystal, a voice jarred her from the hypnotic effects of her drink.

“Bethany? I didn’t know you were coming.”

Bethany pulled the glass away from her lips and looked into the face of her mother. She was so used to seeing the worn-out version that seeing Mom now, in a dress, with makeup and curled hair, made her do a giant double take. “Robin invited me.”

Fenton stepped behind her mother. He removed her shawl, pulled out one of the chairs for Mom, and sat in his own with immaculate posture. Everything inside Bethany froze. Pastor Fenton was sitting at their table?

His gaze lingered on her wineglass, his brown eyes moving from the drink to her face, filled with the same accusation she saw too many times as a child.
Sinner
. She was always a sinner. She refused to endure an entire dinner sitting across from him and her mother. As individuals, she might be able to handle them, but not when they sat like a unified force, her mother playing a terrified, infatuated mouse and Fenton the handsome, intimidating house cat. Without excusing herself, she rose from her chair and left the table, unable to stand one more second of Fenton’s scrutiny.

Evan clamped his hands on the edges of his chair, his eyes darting between Ruth, who worried her lip, and Robin, whose body was poised much like his, ready to chase after Bethany as she navigated her way through the maze of tables. Pastor Fenton ignored Bethany’s departure, introduced himself to Bryan and Amy, and struck up a conversation. Evan turned his attention to Diane, the line of her brow furrowed into a sharp V as she watched Bethany disappear into the hall.

She shifted toward Evan, close enough to whisper. “What was that about?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You should go find out,” she said, giving him an animated wink.

Evan rolled his eyes. “Easy there, Cupid. Retract the arrow.”

She raised her eyebrows and shoulders in unison. “I’m just sayin’.”

He knew exactly what she was just saying. As soon as Bethany revealed her age, he could see the cogs turning in Diane’s head. Evan scooted his chair back just as Robin moved hers. He placed his hand on her shoulder, letting her know he would take care of it. The look of relief she gave him tore at his heart. Prior to Micah’s death, Robin wouldn’t have thought twice about maneuvering her way through a crowded room. She would have stopped to mingle with several friends and acquaintances on her way out. Now, however, the thought seemed to terrify her.

Evan moved toward the exit, trying not to let his thoughts go in directions they didn’t need to. Like the way Bethany looked in that dress. Or the fact that she no longer had a boyfriend. He didn’t care if he had an irrepressible urge to push back the brown lock that kept falling over her eye. The woman wanted to sell Dan’s farm and hightail it out of Peaks. He had no business entertaining romantic thoughts for someone so totally wrong for him.

Emptiness filled the hallway. He looked one way, then the other. After a failed search, he trotted down the steps and made his way outside, stepping around a few late guests straggling through the door. His muscles tensed against the nighttime air. He peered at the parking lot, searching for the shadow of a figure hurrying toward a car. After her desertion the day the doctors took Micah off life support, he wouldn’t put it past her to do the same tonight. But she wasn’t out there.

Rubbing warmth into his hands, he turned back to the door and spotted a silhouette. The glow from the moon reflected off Bethany’s bare shoulders, making her look almost translucent as she stood at the edge of the terrace overlooking the Mississippi River. She was nuts. Certifiably nuts. Nobody in her right mind stood outside in weather this cold wearing nothing but a thin dress.

If she heard him approaching, she didn’t turn her head. She faced the
water, watching waves circle over the dangerous currents pulling beneath the surface. When he stepped by her side, she looked up, like a doe hearing the cock of a rifle. Her eyes matched the tumultuous river, swirling with hidden depth.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

A slight breeze sent Bethany’s hair floating around her shoulders. Goose bumps marched up her arms. She shivered, drawing her arms around herself as Evan shrugged off his coat.

She held out her hand to stop him. “I’m fine.”

Evan draped his suit coat over her shoulders anyway. Despite her initial protest, she pulled the jacket close to her body and turned her nose to the fabric. His insides dipped as if he’d slipped a few rungs down a silo ladder. Was it his imagination, or was Bethany smelling his clothes? He rubbed his hands together and blew hot air into them. “Are you going to tell me why you hightailed it out of the banquet hall?”

No response.

That was okay. He was good at digging. “Does it have to do with your mom?”

Her head jerked. Whether she meant it as a yes or no, he couldn’t tell.

“You two don’t get along so well.”

A small muscle twitched in her neck.

Evan prepared to push the shovel down further, hoping to divot her hard, winter exterior with the spade of his questions. “Does it have to do with her date?”

This time her head jerk was obvious. She aimed her stare at him, pinning him beneath the barrel of a loaded gun. “How is this any of your business?” A controlled sharpness laced each word.

“Robin looked ready to go after you. And since she has enough on her plate at the moment, I thought taking her place was the right thing to do.” His insides balked at the lie. If he was being honest, he’d have to admit he came after her for more complicated reasons. In the milliseconds before she
fled the table, she’d granted him access into something vulnerable. Something broken. And it had pinched his chest with the strong desire to fix whatever hurt.

“I’m an adult. I don’t need to be taken care of.”

Evan leaned over the railing, the cold metal stinging his palms. “Everybody needs to be taken care of, Bethany.”

“Not me.”

Evan glanced at his coat wrapped around her shoulders and smiled.
Sure you don’t
. She jutted her jaw forward and started to remove the offensive evidence. Evan placed his hand over the fabric. She twisted out from under his grasp. “Don’t you have anything better to do? Like go entertain your date? I hardly think she appreciates you running after another woman.”

“Diane won’t care.” Quite the opposite, in fact. Evan was sure Diane was plotting a number of schemes that all involved getting him and Bethany on the dance floor later that night.

Bethany arched a brow. “So it’s that kind of a relationship?”

“Relationship?”

“Whatever you have going on with Diane?”

He blinked, taking in Bethany’s hardened features. Did she think Diane was his girlfriend? That he was in a relationship with the vivacious blonde on his arm—the one he used to wrestle with over his Big Wheel? He laughed—a deep vibration that warmed his lungs.

Her face pinched. “What’s so amusing?”

“You think Diane and I are in a relationship?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Diane’s my cousin. She flew in from Kentucky for the dinner. She wanted to be here when they honor Micah.” He chuckled. “Plus, she loves a good party.”

Something changed in Bethany’s posture and expression. Was she relieved? The thought amused him, and on the heels of his amusement came
something deeper, something that warmed his insides despite the frigid temperature. He didn’t like it.

“Are you going to come back in?” He took a hopeful step toward the door. “It is winter, you know. Not the best time to stand outside and appreciate the scenery.” He took another step, hoping she’d follow.

“You assume I appreciate what I see.”

Her enticing response hugged the ends of her breath and evaporated into the night. He cocked his head to one side. “You don’t appreciate the Mississippi River?” Dismissing such a powerful piece of nature seemed reckless somehow, as if she were dismissing the river’s creator as well.

“All of it.” She swept her hand over the horizon, her forearm poking through the front gap of his jacket. “Nothing ever changes here. I’ve been away for ten years, and it’s still the same Peaks.”

Did she have blinders on? Things around Peaks were changing every day—and much too fast. Suburbia crept closer and closer, like a glutton’s ever-expanding waistline. New housing developments swelled against previously set boundaries. Every year, the glutton purchased a new pair of pants to accommodate its increasing girth. And Bethany wanted to feed it.

“This place is like my own personal purgatory. Ever since I came back, my life just stopped moving, and I can’t get it going again.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in heaven and purgatory and all that.”

She didn’t respond. She was lost out in the river, staring as if the cold didn’t exist.

But it did to him. The freezing temperature seeped through his starched shirt and settled on his shoulders. He wanted to ask her about their last encounter, with Susan on the front porch. He wanted to ask if and when she planned on putting the farm up for sale, but he couldn’t get the words out. He preferred to ignore them altogether.

Bethany let out a long breath. “Robin asked me to stay.”

“Permanently?”

She shook her head. “Through her pregnancy.”

“Are you going to?”

“It doesn’t make sense to lease an apartment in Chicago without knowing if I’ll find work there. I could end up anywhere.”

Evan imagined her résumé floating in cyberspace, searching for the biggest cities. He tried to picture her in New York or London or Tokyo. But he couldn’t. When he closed his eyes, all he could see was her curled up in Dan’s recliner, keeping her grandfather company while the pair of them watched black-and-white sitcoms. Dan wouldn’t have sat through those for anyone other than Bethany.

She picked at the frozen banister. “And since you’re holding on to the farmhouse”—she shot him an irritated look—“selling might take longer than I thought, especially in the winter.”

BOOK: Wildflowers from Winter
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