Beauty's Kiss (15 page)

“Want to tell me about it?”

She laughed once. “You might regret saying that.”

He already was. But, he couldn’t back out now. “Tell me. If it’d make you feel better.”

“I don’t know
what
could make me feel better. Except maybe another beer.”

Grey arrived, with the needed beer. He popped off the cap and slid the bottle across the counter to her.

Callan snapped it up and took a sip.

Troy frowned. This wasn’t normal Callan behavior and he didn’t know what to make of it. “What’s going on?”

She didn’t answer immediately, but then she looked up at him, brows furrowed, expression grim. “I learned some dark Carrigan family secrets.”

“How dark?”

“Pretty damn dark.”

“Why don’t you just tell me? Then I can get back to worrying about my own problems.”

“You think this has nothing to do with you?”

Her words were full of challenge—so like Callan. “Maybe you should get to the point.”

“Maybe I will. The thing is—our Mom had an affair.”

He stared at her. Was this the beer talking? He remembered Bev Carrigan as a very proper sort of woman. Beautiful, with nice manners and a gentle way about her. “You’re talking nonsense, Callan. Maybe you should find a nice, gentlemanly cowboy to give you a ride home.”

“I don’t need a ride home. I plan on crashing on Sage’s couch when I’m done here.” Callan shredded the label off the bottle. “But first, hear me out. I want you to listen to my story.”

“Your Mom’s been gone a long time. Why did this come up now?”

Callan’s smooth jaw tightened, her expression fierce. “The timing sucks. I couldn’t agree more. But with all that’s been going on with Mattie and her husband—they split up this fall—Sage decided to come clean. Apparently she’s been keeping this secret since she was only twelve years old.”

Troy’s head throbbed. He had enough drama with Trey in jail and McKenna engaged and Cormac trying to raise April and Darryl’s baby as if he was daddy material when Cormac was the least likely of all the Sheenans to settle down.

And now Callan was throwing all her family stuff at him, too.

“Hang on,” he said, rubbing at his temple. “Wes and Mattie are separated?”

“On their way to divorced.”

“Too bad.” He’d seen Wes at a few rodeos. The man knew how to ride a bull. But marriage—that could be harder. “So what does that have to do with Sage keeping a secret?”

“She thought Mattie might be more inclined to work out her troubles with Wes if she knew that our mother had an affair. And that it hadn’t ended in divorce for our parents.”

Twisted logic, in Troy’s mind. But he could sort of see the connection. “How did Sage know her Mom cheated on your dad?”

“She walked in on them.”

Wow. That was pretty heavy. And life changing for a kid.

Kind of like him walking in and discovering his mom was dead.

“Sorry,” he said gruffly. “That’s shitty. For Sage, and for all of you.”

Callan took another long drink. “Thing is, Troy, our mother was with your father.”

Troy went cold all over.

For a moment he couldn’t think, or speak. For a moment there was just silence, and then a buzzing in his head. The sound a radio station makes when you haven’t dialed in properly to the right channel.

The buzzing continued unabated.

And he thought of his mom. Not his dad.

Was this why?

Was this the reason for her terrible sadness? For her endless loneliness?

Troy stared blindly down into the pale gold of his beer. He couldn’t believe it.

And yet...

He could.

Bev Carrigan and his dad?

“You’re sure?” he asked roughly.

“Yep.” Her voice was quiet, her expression strained.

Shit.

He wished he’d never stopped in at Grey’s. Wished he’d gone straight from dinner to his room. Wished he could have avoided this conversation tonight. Wished he could have avoided this conversation for the rest of his life. “Does everyone know?”

“No one knows. Just you, me, and my sisters.”

He drank, and then set the glass down and pushed the half empty glass away. “Lucky you, me, and your sisters,” he muttered, reaching for his wallet to drop a five and a couple ones on the counter.

He rapped his knuckles on the counter to let Grey know he was leaving and then glanced down at Callan who suddenly looked very small and young on the bar stool. “My dad’s dying,” he said bluntly.

She nodded once, her dark braid slipping across her shoulder. “Dillon told me.”

“But you didn’t tell Dillon about the affair?”

She shook her head. “He’s the one who moved home to take care of your dad. Doesn’t seem fair to lay this on him, too.” She managed a tight, tough-girl smile. “But you’re Troy, the V.C. I figured your big shoulders could handle the truth.”

Chapter Nine

Thursday afternoon Louise came bounding up the stairs to the second floor landing where Taylor was adding some of the photos and memorabilia of Marietta in 1914 to the second floor display cabinet. Taylor had found them in a box in the library’s storage vault and thought it was the perfect time to change displays with the Valentine Ball tomorrow, which launched the 100 year anniversary of the Great Wedding Giveaway.

“Does Margaret know you’re doing this?” Louise asked, stooping to get a look at the faces in one of the photographs.

“Nope.”

“She might not like it. She was very partial to the agriculture display. Her dad was a farmer.”

“Yes, I know. But the display was almost twenty-three years old. I think a change is in order.” Taylor sat back and dusted her hands on a soft cloth she’d picked up at the Mercantile on Main Street. “And what is she going to do? Fire me? She can’t. She didn’t hire me.”

“You’re feisty today.”

“I’m just tired of tiptoeing around, afraid of incurring Margaret’s displeasure. This library is in the dark ages. It’s time it embraced change and technology. Kids read on iPhones and tablets and we should at the very least have New Adult and Young Adult books available for them as downloads.” And yes, Taylor silently added, she was still smarting after this morning’s meeting where Margaret rejected every single book Taylor had suggested as an interesting read for the local teenagers. Margaret still thought Nancy Drew was the leading series for girls. She couldn’t accept that young adults today might enjoy vampires, werewolves, witches or apocalyptic literature stories featuring strong heroines.

“Well, I support you,” Louise said. “And you’ll have a say in the librarian that’s hired to replace me, so be patient and know that change is coming.”

“I’m trying,” Taylor answered, positioning a new black and white photo of Marietta High with its graduating class of 1914 against a trophy dated 1914 before straightening. “Where is Margaret by the way? Still at the dentist?”

“Yes.”

“Good. And I’m finished here, so maybe she won’t even notice. She rarely comes upstairs anymore.”

“I’m glad you’re finished here because you need to come down. Something’s arrived for you. It’s in the staff room.”

“Books?”

“No.”

“Magazines?”

“No.”

Information on the ALA conference this summer?”

“
No
.”

What then?”

“Just come see,” Louise said firmly, but still beaming and clearly quite excited about something.

Taylor dusted her hands off, closed and locked the glass cabinet door before following Louise downstairs, behind the circulation desk, through the small office to the tiny staff room behind.

Inside the staff room, hanging on the antique coat rack, was an enormous silver garment bag with ornate black calligraphy,
Married in Marietta
.

“Lisa Renee dropped it off herself,” Louise said. “Just moments ago.”

Taylor arched a brow. “It must be a mistake. I’m not getting married, nor do I know anyone getting married.”

Louise rolled her eyes. “You know everyone’s gone there for their formal gowns for the Ball. As a matter of fact, you were there with McKenna last night. Miss Renee was not. Apparently one of her sales associates was.”

“Yes, and the sales associate rang up my dress and the dress I bought is hanging in my closet at home right now.”

“Maybe there was a mistake—”

“There was no mistake. I bought my dress. It’s in my closet. This isn’t for me.”

“But it is. She brought this for you, and there’s a card with your name on it,” Louise said. “So open it. Read it. The suspense is killing me.”

But Taylor didn’t want to open the card. She suddenly knew who’d sent the dress and it wasn’t McKenna, or Lisa Renee, the elegant stylish manager who did all the ordering for the bridal boutique.

It was Troy. It had to be Troy. McKenna must have said something to him.

Taylor’s jaw tightened as she reached for the little envelope tied to the hanger with a silver ribbon. She slid open the envelope’s flap and pulled out the creamy white card.

Book girls do it better in red spangles.

Troy

Taylor’s heart jumped. Her pulse raced. She knew even without unzipping the garment bag which dress she’d find.

The couture gown.

Taylor peeked into the bag. Glossy red spangles caught the light, glowing and shimmering within.

Her heart fell. She exhaled in a soft, disappointed whoosh.

“Look at that,” Louise murmured.

“Mmm,” Taylor agreed, blinking back tears. It was such a gorgeous gesture on Troy’s part, so exciting, and she loved the thought... she did, but she couldn’t keep it. Couldn’t wear it. Couldn’t ever accept such an expensive gift. “But I have to send it back.”

But before Taylor could phone Married in Marietta, Margaret marched into the staff room.

“Troy Sheenan is here, Taylor. He apparently is interested in joining one of the Book Clubs. He asked specifically about the Tuesday Night Book Group. Personally I don’t think it’s the right place for him, but I’ll leave that to you.”

Taylor found Troy perusing the New and Notable bulletin board display across from the circulation desk, next to the library’s theme table, this month’s theme being Valentine’s Day, with classic romance novels artfully arranged.
Jane Eyre. Wuthering Heights. Pride and Prejudice. Sense and Sensibility.

Taylor had fully expected Margaret to reject the theme and choice of books. But she’d left it there, and said nothing.

A victory, in Taylor’s mind.

“Thank you for the dress,” Taylor said, joining Troy in front of the bulletin board display. “But I can’t keep it. I can’t even imagine ever accepting something so extravagant—”

“I didn’t pay for it,” he said, turning to face her. His chiseled jaw was shadowed with a day old beard.

Taylor was surprised how good he looked with a little scruff. She tucked her hands behind her back, fingers threading together. “I’m sure it’s not on loan.”

“No, it’s a gift, from the Lily Jewel, the designer. She wants you to wear it and we’re to be photographed and Jane is to send the photos to all her big-wig publicist friends who will tweet and share and post the photos on every fashion blog imaginable, ensuring that Lily Jewel’s dress is seen by all.”

Taylor blanched. “That’s a lot of pressure. Maybe it would have been better if you’d bought the dress after all.”

“You don’t have to wear Lily’s gown. You have a very nice new dress from
Married in Marietta
at home.”

She smiled at him. “Are you making fun of my nice new dress, that happens to be practical,
and
affordable?”

“Just a little bit.”

“I see.” But she couldn’t stop smiling at him. He made her feel good on the inside. Bubbly. Happy. It didn’t make sense. Opposites shouldn’t attract. Big city tycoons shouldn’t like small town librarians. Impulsively, she reached up to touch his scruffy jaw. His skin was warm, his jaw was hard, the black bristles sharp against her fingertips. “I kind of like this,” she said.

He lifted a brow. “That’s good, because I don’t always like to shave.”