“I didn’t forget anything, Daddy. And don’t threaten my husband.” Faith’s quiet words cut through her father’s angry shouts, instantly silencing him.
The prickly lump that had been sitting in Buddy Lee’s throat all morning finally expanded to choking proportions. All hell was about to break loose, just as he’d expected, and he and Faith were standing smack dab in the line of fire. The notion to grab his wife and run whizzed through his brain for a nanosecond right before his good sense kicked in.
Then he felt Faith’s warm hand on his arm and knew he wasn’t going anywhere at all. Not if this precious woman needed him to protect and support her, or whatever in the wide world she wanted from him. He was her man now, for better or worse.
That was the vow he’d made in front of the preacher, and he aimed to keep it, even though he feared the
worse
was coming sooner than the
better.
Lionel Morgan looked like he was
fixin
’ to explode.
“You’re
what
?”
Morgan’s words thundered through the air like a tent-revival evangelist’s and Buddy Lee swore he felt the ground shake.
He found Faith’s hand and gripped it tight. When she squeezed back and gave him that sweet smile again, his off-kilter world righted itself.
“That’s right, Mr. Morgan, sir. Faith and I are married.
That’s what we came to tell you.” It was hard to talk with a mouth drier than chalk, but Buddy Lee figured he’d managed well enough for the man to understand what he’d said.
“Beryl! Beryl, come down here!” The roar Lionel emitted when he called his wife’s name was loud enough to wake the residents of the local cemetery two miles outside of town.
While they waited in the doorway, Buddy Lee stole a glance past the outraged man on the chance he might spot any shotguns close by. Better to know what odds he was facing, in case he and Faith had to make a quick exit off the porch. Never hurt to be prepared.
Beryl Morgan glided down the staircase and took her place next to her husband. Clad in a diaphanous robe of pale yellow, the frail woman was nearly invisible in the shadow of her portly spouse. Pale skin, pale hair. To Buddy Lee’s way of thinking, she looked downright sickly.
“What on earth is the matter, Lionel?” Beryl’s voice was as frail as her stature. Her hands fluttered at her throat. She stared blankly at her daughter. “Why, hello, dear. Why are you standing in the door?”
Lionel ignored his wife and scowled at the couple. “You two get in here and do some explaining. And it had better be damn good.” He turned and stomped down the hall.
Faith brushed her mother’s cheek with a kiss. “Let’s go in, Mama, and we’ll tell you all about it.”
As Beryl followed her husband down the wide hall, Faith tugged on Buddy Lee’s hand. “C’mon,” she urged. “We have to tell them. Just remember, let me do the explaining. All you have to do is agree with whatever I say, okay?”
That was the same directive she’d given him too many times before. He nodded, but a creepy feeling of
déjà vu
crawled up his spine. The way his mouth dried up and his tongue tied itself in a knot, he couldn’t have talked much anyhow.
He did wonder, though, why Faith was suddenly so calm and determined, when last night she’d come to him in hysterics over Royce’s rough and secretive actions. Had getting married made that much of a change in her? He didn’t claim to be a math whiz, but something here wasn’t adding up. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of the whole thing.
Lionel motioned to a quartet of white wicker chairs fitted with plump, yellow and blue print cushions. Buddy Lee waited until everyone else was seated before taking the chair next to Faith. He made a quick visual inspection of his surroundings.
The room was nearly the size of his entire house. Light and airy, it afforded a spectacular view of the colorful gardens surrounding a sparkling swimming pool. A perfect spot for an intimate chat.
Or a loud confrontation. He had already figured out which one this was likely to be. Oh, yeah. He wiped his sweaty palms on his denim-clad legs.
“Daddy. Mama. Like we explained, Buddy Lee and I got married this afternoon.”
Buddy Lee noticed Faith visibly holding her breath, so maybe she wasn’t so confident, after all. He wasn’t sure if he felt better or worse, but when Lionel jumped up and grabbed him by the shirt front,
worse
pretty well covered it.
Lionel pushed his face right up next to his. “Impossible! She’s marrying Royce tomorrow.”
He stood close enough for him to get a real good whiff of the man’s strong whiskey breath, but Buddy Lee stood his ground. “No sir, she’s not.”
Morgan made a move, ready to swing a fist, but Faith grabbed his arm. “Stop it, Daddy! You’re making Mama have a fainting spell.”
She rushed to the built-in bar across the room and poured a glass of water for her mother. “Here, Mama, drink this. You’ll feel better in a minute.”
Lionel waved aside his daughter’s protest. “Never mind her.
She faints at the drop of a hat.” He turned to his wife. “Beryl, pay attention. Didn’t you hear what our daughter just said?
She’s gone and married Boyd Walker’s boy when she’s supposed to be marrying Royce tomorrow. Faint about that if you have to faint about something.”
He let go of Buddy Lee and pushed him back into the chair.
“You’d better have a damn good reason for this, boy. I ought to haul your no-account carcass right over to the county jail.”
“You’re not hauling anybody anywhere, Daddy,” Faith said before Buddy Lee had a chance to put his Adam’s apple back where it belonged. “We’re married and having a baby. You’ll just have to cancel the wedding arrangements.”
Beryl slumped to the floor in a dead faint, just as Lionel’s fist shot out like a well-aimed missile. Buddy Lee ducked a second too late and wound up with a humdinger of a bloody nose, courtesy of his brand new father-in-law.
Well, hell.
Faith’s daddy started shouting about the cost of canceling the wedding and threatening to have Buddy Lee arrested. Her mama finally came to, flitting around and bemoaning the fact that the family’s good name and reputation were going to be ruined. The two were so busy blaming each other for not keeping their daughter under control, they didn’t even notice when the couple slipped out of the house and drove away. Buddy Lee drove with one hand on the steering wheel, the other holding his handkerchief on his nose.
By the time they left Liberty’s city limits, he’d already made a mess of his handkerchief. Forty-five minutes later, they were sitting in the Cactus Pear Bar and Grill on the outskirts of Granite City, far enough away to feel safe. At least, for the time being.
Faith held a wet paper napkin to her husband's swollen nose. “I’m so sorry, Buddy Lee,” she said, with a hitch in her soft voice. “I never meant for you to get hurt.”
“‘
S’okay
,” Buddy Lee mumbled, wondering if his nose looked as big as it felt. Lionel Morgan’s fist had come out of nowhere, and he hadn’t had a chance to duck. The old man packed quite a punch, too. Buddy Lee would’ve swung back if it had been anyone but Faith’s daddy. Shoot, he wasn’t
that
dumb. Besides, he’d been sitting down at the time and too surprised to react.
The waitress brought two colas, a glass of ice cubes and a clean bar towel. Faith thanked her and wrapped the cloth around three of the cubes.
“Hold this on your nose. It will help the swelling go down.”
“Mm-hmm.” Buddy Lee stuck the freezing bundle on his throbbing face. He didn’t feel any better, but he appreciated Faith’s effort. She was trying to make the best of things but, truth was, he felt about as useful as hip pockets on a hog right then. Some husband he was turning out to be. He was supposed to be taking care of her.
He shifted the ice pack over so he could talk. “Maybe we’d better decide what we’re gonna’ do next. You think your
daddy’ll
come after us?” Sobering as that thought was, Buddy Lee wasn’t about to let the
Morgans
make Faith’s life any more miserable.
It was up to him to look after her now. But a pregnant bride was a whole new experience. He desperately needed a how-to book for situations like this because he didn’t have a clue where to begin.
“It’s not Daddy I’m worried about.” Faith glanced toward the tavern door. “It’s Royce. I’m not sure what he’ll do. He isn’t the man I thought he was, Buddy Lee. All these months, he had me fooled.” She shuddered. “Until Monday night. How could I have been so wrong?”
Buddy Lee reached across the table and folded her hand in his. “Don’t worry, Faith. There’s nothing he can do now. We’re married. It’s a done deal.”
She sighed and squeezed his hand. “You are so good to me, Buddy Lee. Just like when we were kids.”
Yeah, well, they weren’t kids anymore and he was pretty sure his feelings for Faith weren’t child-like in any way, shape or form. Nope, not at all. And he didn’t know how in heck he was going to handle
that.
He studied their entwined hands resting on the scarred tabletop and a silly grin kicked up the corners of his mouth.
For a minute, he had a goofy urge to pull out his pocketknife and carve their initials next to all the others that had been embedded there over the past decade or so. Talk about juvenile.
Get a grip, Walker.
“You know, we should be heading back home,” he said, after they had finished their drinks. He’d made an effort to take a couple of sips of his soda, but his puffed-up lip made him dribble like a baby, so he set it aside. “You should rest after this long day, shouldn’t you, Faith?
I mean, in your condition and all. For the baby.”
Buddy Lee’s stammered sincerity warmed Faith’s heart. He really was concerned about her, and she felt awful about this whole mess. This wasn’t what she’d planned, but she wasn’t surprised. Daddy could be mean when he was upset. And she’d certainly upset him by marrying Buddy Lee. She hadn’t given much thought as to where home was going to be. There were two weeks left on her apartment lease, but that was empty except for the usual appliances that came with it. Still, Buddy Lee’s house would be the first place her parents would look. And Royce.
They couldn’t forget about him. There was something sinister and dangerous about his threats that really frightened her. Buddy Lee couldn’t be expected to commute from Granite City to his shop in Liberty, either. That was nearly forty miles one way.
Why hadn’t she thought of that before?
Dummy. You really screwed up this time.
“I, uh, maybe we’d better stay in a motel, just for tonight.” She didn’t want to go back to Liberty tonight, now that they’d announced their marriage. She was terrified of what might happen after Daddy broke the news to Royce.
“A...motel?” Buddy Lee stared, wide-eyed.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got my credit card with me,” she hurried to assure him. Finances were another topic they needed to discuss, too. She didn’t want to be a burden to him. She had her own money. They’d work out something. Right after they found a motel with a vacancy.
The motel attached to the Cactus Pear Bar and Grill wasn’t the fanciest establishment in the area, but it was far enough away from Liberty for Faith to feel sure her daddy wouldn’t be bothering them.
She listened, wide-eyed, as the desk clerk explained there were no vacancies. How could that be when the place didn’t even deserve a three-star rating?
“Big convention in town this weekend,” the clerk said. “Most everything is filled right up. Sorry, folks.”
Buddy Lee turned to Faith. “Got any other ideas?”
She hesitated. “My place isn’t too far from here, but there’s no bed. Or any other furniture,” she quickly added, not wanting to give the impression she was only thinking about their sleeping arrangements, although she was. “We’d have to sleep on the floor.” Their only other option was to return to Buddy Lee’s house, and she was afraid of what might happen if Royce decided to show up there. Besides, it was late and they hadn’t had any dinner. “We could pick up a pizza on the way.”
The way his stomach was growling, he’d have agreed to most anything edible, even though pizza was way down on his list of
likeables
. Chicken-fried steak, now that was a man’s meal.
“Sounds like a plan,” he said, putting as much enthusiasm in his voice as he could muster. Then he remembered something that made him smile from the inside out. “And don’t worry about a bed. I always carry a sleeping bag in the truck.”
T
he spicy aroma of thick-crusted pizza with extra cheese, no onions, filled the empty apartment with a cozy warmth that almost had Buddy Lee relaxing. Almost.
His wife—
man, I love the sound of that word
—sat cross-legged on the old red sleeping bag he’d spread out over the carpeted floor, licking pizza sauce from her lips the way a contented cat licks cream from its whiskers. He watched, mesmerized, as the tip of her tongue slid out and slowly circled her mouth. His nervous system was anything but relaxed. Wired was more like it. A rocket ready to launch. Didn’t matter, though. He’d have to keep those twinges of longing to himself.
Just friends, Walker. Remember that.