Breathless (12 page)

He had changed into three different slacks with different shirts and two suits before settling on a charcoal suit with a teal shirt beneath. He even had his hair trimmed to below his collar.

In lieu of driving the motorcycle, Matthew borrowed his father's Ford Taurus. After he rounded the block several times to avoid appearing too eager, at 6:55 he finally stood at Lydia's front door. He hoped the anxiety would dissipate before she answered. The knots had gone from granny to double Englishman with a twist.

When she opened the door, his jaw dropped, and his mouth went dry. She wore a bold ruby silk dress with black lace strewn throughout. The design reminded him of stained glass. It crossed from shoulder to shoulder, below her neck with barely-there cap sleeves. The fit accentuated her waist, flowing to above her knee, showing off her legs. And what legs they were. The finished outfit included a simple pair of black pumps. Her hair was up on the left side, held by an elegant comb, while the other flowed over her shoulders.

Even with the brace on her wrist, he found her breathtaking. Incredible was the first word that popped into his mind. He drew in extra oxygen to keep from going lightheaded. It kept his attention from wandering to pictures on her mantle.

“Wow.” He uttered.

“I'll take that as a compliment.” She responded as her head lowered. Pink creased her cheeks.

“You should. You look wonderful.” Why would such a captivating woman want to be with him?

“You, too.” She smiled.

All his insecurities washed away with that twinkle in her eye. “These are for you.” He passed her a dozen lavender roses he bought on the way over. She buried her face in the blooms, taking in the smell before placing them on the side table.

“They're beautiful,” Lydia replied. “Don't lavender roses mean you're falling in love?”

Matthew coughed to try to hide his embarrassment. “I thought they looked nice.” He had asked the clerk about the meaning of the colors, purple seemed most appropriate for his feelings. “Shall we go?”

Grabbing a black wrap from the side of the sofa, she spun it behind her, placing it over her shoulders. She then secured her arm though the crook of his elbow. As she walked down the porch, she leaned in to him. “You had me concerned about the ride. I'm not sure I could stay somewhat modest wearing this dress and riding a motorcycle.”

He stared at the fabric clinging above her knees, taking in those wonderful calves. “I'm thinking sidesaddle wouldn't have done much good either.”

They arrived at the four-star restaurant of Simooms' Haute Cuisine outside Chattanooga just before eight. The atmosphere spoke elegance with the large chandeliers floating overhead. The maître d' led them to their seats. A half-dozen black-vested men stood behind a large dark wooden bar, waiting to serve patrons.

The light overhead bounced off Lydia's hair causing it to shine. She wore a modicum amount of makeup, which was unnecessary. She would be beautiful without it. What a perfect example of God's work.

Throughout the evening, they laughed and talked. The best part, no interruptions from nosy citizens of Lincolnville.

Resistance was futile as he fought to keep his attention on the road. He kept trying to steal a glance at the amazing woman beside him.

“You're staring,” she said.

“I can't believe how beautiful you are. Kind of makes me feel out of place.”

“You? Mr. Confident. I can't believe you'd ever feel out of place.”

He did exude confidence, he always had. He stood straight and walked with a gait that told people he believed in what he did. However, when it came to Lydia, insecurities rushed into him. He felt he had to work to make an impact on her.

“Truthfully, you're the only person who does that to me.” He paused with the realization. “You're the first woman I've ever tried to impress.”

She leaned slightly toward him “You've never met a woman you wanted to make an impact on? Someone to change for?”

“Unfortunately, the person I once considered for a lifetime became upset when I did change.” Matthew went on to explain. “When I decided to go to the seminary, she couldn't leave fast enough.” He glanced at Lydia in the glow of the street lights and smiled. “I guess it wasn't meant to be.”

“I suppose not.”

Once they pulled up to the front of her house, he bounced out to open her car door. The butterflies had changed to seagulls when he accompanied her up the steps.

“So was tonight an improvement on Fred's?” Matthew prayed his anxiety didn't show.

“Did I ever say I wasn't thrilled with our first date? But I will commend Warren on how his advice improved your second choice.”

“Tell him thanks for the guidance.” He waited as she unlocked the door and flipped the inside light on. His insides trembled when her gaze met his.

“I had a wonderful time. Thank you.” Her smoky, airless voice added to his jitters.

Matthew dreamt of drowning in her perfume. “You'll be at the service on Sunday, won't you?”

“Will you miss me if I'm not there?”

“You bet I will.” Matthew ran his thumb along her jaw line before tucking his index finger under her chin. Easing his palm around her neck, he pulled her to him. Her skin felt soft against his. The pulse in her throat drummed against his hand. As their lips met, he swore he heard an explosion of fireworks.

 

****

 

She shouldn't have closed her eyes. Then it wouldn't have happened. But she did, and it did. He kissed her, and she returned the kiss. Lydia hovered in space. Had it been only a short while ago her only concern had been some fool making annoying phone calls? At the present, Matthew captivated her thoughts.

When he arrived in that charcoal colored suit, her mind went totally blank. He had even cut his hair to his collar, causing it to curl. On most men it would have said safe and controlled, but it gave Matthew kind of a roguish quality.

She remembered feeling dizzy as he gave her the roses. Lavender had been the perfect color. It was too soon for red. The moon glistened overhead, and the stars danced above. Even though cold out, she hadn't noticed. And that kiss. Her heart had yet to slow. Lydia now knew where the phrase “rockets
'
red glare” came from. Unlike some men who tried to swallow her, this kiss had been gentle, tender. It made her toes curl. Her pulse pounded in her ears though he'd said goodnight moments before.

She sprang up the stairs to her bedroom, changing into a long purple gown. Her cell phone want off as she sat on the edge of the bed. Looking at the caller ID, she broke into a smile.

“Hello.” She attempted to hide her euphoria.

“Goodnight Lydia,” Matthew said on the other end, reigniting the glaring rockets.

“Goodnight.” She laughed as she hung up.

She stretched out on the bed, replaying the evening in her mind. Rolling over, she snatched the picture of Justin from her bed stand. “Thank you for loving me enough to allow me to move on.” She gently kissed the framed photograph as the cell went off again.

She flipped open the phone, and Sheryl yelled, “I want to hear about your date and give me all the details.”

 

****

 

Matthew couldn't forget the way Lydia felt in his arms the night before. There was a bounce in his step as if in a mound of marshmallows. If things kept going the way there were, the smile on his face would be permanently etched. He believed he'd met a lady he could spend the rest of his life with. She was not only beautiful, but intelligent and very caring, if her tears for Justin and her kindness of Jimmy were any indication. This was a woman who would make him a wonderful wife.

He stopped dead in his tracks. Before he met Lydia, he imagined he'd be the perpetual bachelor. But she changed all that. He smiled at words somebody had once told him: tell God your plan, he could use the laugh.

Maybe this might be a good time to bring up his involvement in Charlie's death, before he fell any deeper. He sat for a moment going over the words he would say in his head. No words existed that would make her understand. He knew it was a secret he would have to hold to himself forever. For now, he would allow nothing to ruin his glorious mood.

Matthew dialed the phone and waited for his sister Brenda to answer.

“How are you this fine day, sis?” He sang into the telephone.

“You're in an awfully pleasant mood,” Brenda said. “What's up?”

“I'm returning your call.”

“I called to see if you had any plans for dinner next week on Sunday. The kids have been bugging me to get you over.” Since coming to Lincolnville, Matthew had spent several evenings at his sister's. He hadn't realized how much he missed by being absent from his family. He wondered how her kids would react if he had children of his own. Sarah would be a built-in babysitter. Sonny would play baseball with his son. A grin spread over him.

“That depends—” he caught the hesitation on the other end—“on whether I can bring a guest.”

“I figure when you come Riley will probably be with you also. Besides, he's like part of the family.”

“These days I don't find Riley that attractive. His masculine build doesn't do it for me anymore.” Matthew laughed outright. “I'd rather bring someone else.”

“You mean a woman?”

“She's definitely a woman.” Matthew's heart thumped quickly as he recalled Lydia standing in the soft glow of the porch's light, her hair shining and her expression apprehensive.

“Is she special or just another of your typical dates where you love-'em and leave-'em?” He could hear humor in Brenda's question.

“Oh, she's special. And I have no intention of leaving her,” Matthew added. “I only hope she has the same intention.”

“Matthew, that's wonderful,” Brenda cried out. “You'd better bring her by. I can't wait to meet her.”

Upon hanging up from his sister, Matthew dialed Lydia's number.

“Good afternoon.” Her voice was as provocative as the night before.

“Would you like to do dinner at my sister's on Sunday after next?”

When she agreed, Matthew had to fight to deter himself from shouting out loud. He grabbed his cell again as it rang. Riley. Talk about killing a great moment. “Why do I have a feeling you're about to ruin a wonderful mood, my friend.”

“Sorry.” Riley responded. “Jimmy Newman's body was discovered in the woods off Caramel. His parents are on their way over. Melanie at least could use you being there.”

“I'm guessing a drug overdose.” Jimmy had been one the people Matthew suspected of stalking Lydia. If so, the calls should end.

“Try a bullet to the chest.” There was a pause. “And Matthew, there was a Christmas gift tag attached to his shirt. It was addressed to Lydia.”

 

 

 

 

 

13

 

Memories of Justin's funeral flooded over Lydia as she stared at Jimmy's casket. She prayed before he died he'd made his peace with God. Matthew had officiated, his words compassionate and caring.

As Lydia stood with Sheryl to give her condolences to James and Melanie, she overheard funeral goers speculating about Jimmy's death.

“I heard he finally returned after being absent for several days,” one woman said. “And he claimed it was Matthew who hurt Lydia. It made his mom mad, and she accused him of lying and falling back with his old habits. He stormed out, but not before stealing his mom's purse.”

“How sad,” another lady said. “The next evening, his body was found. Melanie must feel real guilty over having the argument with her son.”

The closer Lydia got to the front of the line, the more it appeared to her that Melanie and James had aged years. Tears clung in James's eyes. Melanie's face was streaked with mascara and dark circles made her face appear pale.

“I'm so sorry about Jimmy.” Lydia extended her hand to James. It was hard to believe she just saw Jimmy a week ago.

“All you had to do was pretend.” James's look bore into her. “I wasn't asking you to spend the rest of your life with him, merely pretend for a little while. Just long enough for him to get well. You'll pay for this. One day you'll pay.” James dabbed a white handkerchief to his face as he stalked off.

A lump rose in Lydia's throat. Maybe she could have done more to help Jimmy. Could she have been a better friend? Lydia lowered her head.

“It's not your fault.” Melanie patted her wet cheeks with a tissue. “He couldn't see how Jimmy changed after the drugs. He was no longer that nice, kind boy we all remembered. If he had been, maybe we could have done things differently.”

“God was the only one who could have saved him. And Jimmy would have to have been willing to accept that help.” Lydia tried to suppress the guilt James raised in her. “I wish he had.”

Melanie took Lydia's hand in hers. “You were a friend to him, and I know you cared. He knew that, too. And if you had given up your life for him, neither of you would have been happy. There really wasn't anything else you could have done.”

Her words comforted Lydia. She prayed Melanie and James got through this ordeal.

Lydia dropped Sheryl off before driving home from the cemetery. As she cleaned some dishes from earlier, Matthew's motorcycle sounded.

“I thought you could use some company,” he said, standing on the front porch. “Besides, I wanted to spend some time alone with you before you met my family. You'll probably hide yourself away from me after that.”

“I can't imagine they're that bad. I'm sure I'll like them fine.” Lydia hesitated. “I only hope they like me.” Trepidation crept in to her voice.

“Oh, they will. My dad fell for you the first day, and my sister's already making the wedding plans.”

The words rendered her speechless. Marriage. She hadn't even reflected that far in advance. It felt as if a bolt of lightning surged through her. She imagined herself wide-eyed and her hair standing on end as smoke came out both ears.

“She thinks you might be special since I'm willing to bring you over,” Matthew said with an aloof hesitation. “It was a figure of speech.”

“Oh, I see. And am I? Special.”

A blush ran over Matthew's cheeks as he avoided the question before saying, “I'll give you a chance to change while I pick up some fried chicken. I'll take you out for a picnic. It might help you get through the day.”

“I'll be ready in a few minutes”

She tarried at the mirror to check her hair and her jeans and t-shirt. A wedding. This was the first time the thought had crossed her mind. Why did the mention of it shock her through to her toes? Because one day, she wouldn't mind becoming Mrs. Matthew Winters.

 

****

 

Matthew could've kicked himself as he walked back to his bike, recalling how Lydia paled at the mere mention of a wedding. Why would she even be considering marriage? Much less to him, a man she barely knew. Matthew stopped abruptly. Why was he dwelling on it? All at once his insides jumbled like when he was a kid on a fast spinning merry-go-round. Why was the idea of marrying Lydia even in his mind? They'd only know each other a short time. The concept intrigued him.

With Lydia's arms encircling his waist, he drove to a rest area ten miles outside of Lincolnville. He couldn't wipe the smile off as he led her to a covered picnic area that lay behind a brick building. The wind caused the American flag on the roof to clap every few moments. The sun hung over them as they walked toward a table near the woods.

“What are you smiling about?” Lydia raised her eyebrows. “You've got the look of the proverbial cat that ate the canary.”

“I enjoy being with you, that's all.” He was stunned at his good mood, considering the way the day began. He could only attribute it to the lovely woman beside him.

“You're full of baloney today.” Lydia slid onto a bench with Matthew following. “This is a good idea, going to a rest area for a picnic,” she said, placing a piece of fried chicken and a spoonful of potato salad on a paper plate.

“It's the perfect place. You have your covered tables, facilities close by, and some modicum of privacy.” Matthew glanced at an older couple who sat a few tables behind them.

“Are you trying to get me alone, Matthew Winters?”

“Oh yeah.” He laughed.

“I wouldn't be surprised if Sheryl didn't have us followed, so she could let everyone know.” Lydia glanced around as if looking for her. “She likes to be the first with the news.”

“What did you do, call her when I went for the food?”

“No. But I'm guessing one of my neighbors did.” She grinned, her head tilted to the side.

“What's the deal with her and Riley?” Matthew had seen the sideways glances between the two and the teasing, but with Riley being so serious, he could actually mean the things he said.

“He cares for her, like a friend's pesky sister. She says all the time how attractive he is, but she's aware he has no interest in her. She's not really his type anyway.”

“What type is he?”

“He's kind of hard to figure, being so serious like he is.” Lydia pulled back and looked at Matthew. “Why do you ask? Are you looking to fix him up?”

“I can't imagine not being as in like as I am right now.”

“In like. That's good.”

“That's what it is.” Matthew placed an arm around her shoulder. “So what about Riley?”

“I don't know. I can't remember a time I've ever really seen him laugh or smile, and I mean deep inside. He had planned to marry that woman who died in the robbery. They had a wedding date set and everything when she got killed.”

“That had to have been a punch in the gut when he lost her.” Matthew imagined if something happened to Lydia, he too might cease wanting to feel again.

He pushed her hair behind her ear. His fingers quivered as they mixed with brown tresses. He leaned in, breathing in the smell of gardenia. He really could spend the rest of his life feeling this way. Stroking the side of her neck, he felt her tremble.

Seconds before their lips met, a gunshot pierced the quietness of the afternoon.

“Are you hit?” Matthew pulled her to the ground.

“No.”

A cry came from one of the pair seated behind them. The man slumped over and gripped his chest.

“He's been shot.” Lydia gasped as she crawled toward the older couple now on the ground. Blood seeped through the elder man's shirt. He groaned when his wife tried to pull his shirt away from his wound.

“Everyone stay down!” Matthew ordered while dialing 911. He scanned the area for any sign of the gunman.

Matthew prayed with the couple while they waited for the emergency crews to arrive. Upon arrival, EMTs placed the older man in an ambulance, and his wife followed. The bullet had gone through his right shoulder.

The officers took Lydia and Matthew to a nearby station and placed them across the room from each other while they gave their statements. Matthew's eyes fixated on Lydia the whole time. His anxiety rose with each passing moment. “Someone's been stalking Ms. Frederickson,” Matthew spoke to the officer taking his statement. Making phone calls, leaving pictures of her, things along that line. It's possible he's the person responsible.”

“We'll look into it, but it's not unusual to have hunters follow deer down this way,” the officer said as dogs bayed in the distance. “It was probably some guy who lost his bearings and didn't realize he was shooting toward a rest area.”

However, in Matthew's gut, something gnawed. He knew the caller had just sent a very dangerous message.