Authors: Annie Jones
“
Oh no, Dixie.
”
Riley looked to her as if asking for confirmation of the awful truth.
“
They were killed in a wreck with one of the family
’
s own delivery trucks?
”
She could only nod.
“
Only the driver of the truck was spared.
”
Lettie
’
s jaw trembled with an emotion only those who knew the whole story could fully comprehend. Then she blinked, and dragged the back of her hand over her leathery brown cheek and sighed.
“
But that night, Geneva, Young Bobby and...the other passenger in that truck...went to an even bigger and better party in heaven instead of the one they
’
d expected to throw for their parents.
”
Riley started to put his arms around Dixie
’
s shoulders.
She went rigid. She did not want this man
’
s sympathy. A few moments ago he
’
d been ready to run roughshod over her and everyone associated with her in order to get his way She would not accept his contrived benevolence now.
Riley must have felt her resistance
.
He withdrew without saying anything.
“
After that night...
”
Miss Lettie began again to toy with the doll
’
s yarn hair as she spoke in a lighter tone, but still with hushed anguish.
“
Miz Samantha Eugenie took to her bed and never recovered. We lost her not long after, her poor little heart just not strong enough to sustain her through the great loss of both her babies at one time. From that day forward, the Judge, well, he never was the same.
”
“
I like the Judge the way he is now.
”
Wendy tipped her head to one side and blinked as she made what appeared to be a quite serious regard of Dixie
’
s grandfather.
“
I think he
’
s funny and I like it when people call him Smilin
’
Bob and when he fights with Aunt Sis and when he growls at Peachie Too and does magic tricks—
”
“
He is a character, I
’
ll give you that. And sweet as bees knees to me.
”
“
Bees knees.
”
Wendy giggled.
“
But sweet don
’
t run the business, lambkin, nor does magic tricks or the brand of general tomfoolery that old man is so fond of. I
’
ve known that man for nigh onto sixty years and I will tell you, child, he
’
s as smart as a whip to this very day. Much smarter than folks
‘
round here give him credit for.
”
Dixie shot Riley an I-told-you-so look that in any other situation would have made her blush at her own smugness.
“
But it
’
s not in the Judge anymore to take over and run the business that brought about the loss of both his children.
”
Riley tensed. His dark brows angled down over his eyes as if he were doing long, difficult calculation. He began to fidget, starting to—but not quite—folding his arms, then stuffing one hand in his pocket, then running his thumb down his jawline.
“
For a long time that didn
’
t matter, though.
”
Lettie
’
s voice was soft and craggy but it carried just fine into the stillness of the narrow hallway.
“
Because Dixie
’
s father took care of everything. John Frederick Fulton-Leigh has gone on to the other side and now...
”
She let the word trail off, as if implying the uncertainty of what would become of things.
Dixie understood that uncertainty tenfold. Lettie
’
s reminder of it all only served to humble her. How arrogant she
’
d been when Riley had come with his offer of help, how self-righteous and demanding in thinking only of how it would look for her to be the one who lost the family business. How ridiculous she had been to let fear rule her decisions. She had known better...and now—
“
And now…
”
Wendy perked up, her eyes shining,
“
…now me and my daddy have come here to help everyone.
”
“
Yes! Now you and your daddy have come!
”
Lettie patted the girl
’
s hair and grinned that gapped-tooth grin.
The knot in Dixie
’
s stomach relaxed. She turned to Riley.
“
Dixie, I
’
m so sorry—
”
he beat her to the apology.
“
Oh, me too, Riley, that
’
s just what I was going to say.
”
She opened her eyes, hoping he saw the sincerity there
. “
What now?
”
“
We need a lawyer,
”
he said.
“
I just fired mine,
”
they both said at exactly the same moment.
“
You, too?
”
She clutched at his shirtsleeve.
“
But aren
’
t you in the middle of an adoption proceeding?
”
“
Long story.
”
He shook his head.
“
Is that code for don
’
t ask?
”
“
It
’
s...
”
he put his hands on his hips and turned his face toward the ceiling.
“
It
’
s code for ask me again later. Okay?
”
“
Yes, you
’
re right. We have enough on our plates at the moment. We need...
”
“
We need a rowboat.
”
He chuckled.
“
Maybe we should ask Lettie about where to get one since she seems to be our resident expert.
”
Dixie glanced in to see that Wendy had slid from the bed and was holding the TV remote in her hand, poised and at the ready. Lettie snuggled under the covers, obviously preparing to go back to watching her stories until she fell asleep, as was her usual routine. Dixie pondered the frailness of the woman she so adored as Lettie moved with great effort to get comfortable. Dixie would gladly rush in and offer aid, but Lettie would only shoo her away. The old woman was far too proud to accept any help, so proud she would sever all ties with her own flesh and blood rather than—
“
Lettie told me today that her grandson is a lawyer in Jackson. I was going to go over and see if I can
’
t arrange a reunion.
”
“
You think he
’
d act as our advisor?
”
A flutter of anxiety rippled through her. She swallowed as if that might wash it all away, or at least push it back down so that she might answer Riley with some measure of confidence.
“
I...it
’
s hard to say. I don
’
t know the man.
”
And you don
’
t know everything that stands between his family and mine.
Dixie chose not to say it out loud. Why bring up old ugliness? Unless it became an issue, the secret of the tragic connections between Lettie
’
s family and her own would not come from Dixie
’
s lips.
Riley stole a peek in the room again.
“
But even if he doesn
’
t want to work with us, at least it
’
s a good place to start for recommendations, don
’
t you guess?
”
“
Yes.
”
Dixie stood tall.
“
Yes, I can
’
t imagine that Lettie
’
s grandson would be anything but forthcoming and helpful even if it turns out he has no desire to get personally involved.
”
In the next room the television clicked on.
Grandpa sputtered awake.
Wendy told him they had to get going and leave Miss Lettie to enjoy her stories.
Riley took Dixie by the hand.
“
C
’
mon, let
’
s slip off before they come out here and know we
’
ve been eavesdropping. I have a notion Miss Lettie could still tear into us but good for being so rude.
”
Dixie smiled as she let him lead her back down the hallway toward the front parlor.
“
You
’
re not scared of her. You
’
re just using that as an excuse to hold my hand and I know it.
”
“
Well, I don
’
t notice you turning loose of me.
”
He curled his hand more firmly around hers.
“
Maybe that
’
s because I finally know we
’
re in this together.
”
She tightened her own fingers. It felt good...just to have someone to finally share in her burdens. Nothing more. Her heart raced.
Nothing more
.
Chapter Eleven
After they had talked through the details of what had to be done next, said their goodnights and the whole house had gone dark and quiet, Dixie had laid awake, tossing and turning. She tried to chalk it up to all the stress of the day and having strangers in the house. But deep down she knew it wasn
’
t what she found strange but all the familiar feelings Riley and Wendy
’
s presence stirred in her that hadn
’
t let her close her eyes and let go of the day. Feelings of family and home and wanting the same things in life as the people you care about.
Not that she cared about Riley Walker, not
that
way. But that he wanted for his child what her father had wanted for—Good heavens, she was already beginning to
think
like Riley
!
“
Here you are! Sis told me I
’
d find you in the kitchen. Are you ready to get go—
”
Riley froze at the threshold, his arm out straight to brace open the swinging door.
“
What are you doing still in your robe? We
’
ve got a big trip ahead of us if we hope to get over to Jackson, find and speak with Lettie
’
s grandson, then get home again before nightfall.
”
Outside, the low rumble of thunder seemed to underscore his impatience.
Dixie slid her spatula under the lacy edges of one of the eggs frying in the cast-iron skillet.
“
I
’
ll be ready in no time, just let me finish up with the breakfast and then I
’
ll grab a quick shower and dress and be ready to hit the road.
”
“
Breakfast?
”
He shook his head but his stomach grumbled loud enough to rival the thunder outside.
“
What are you doing cooking breakfast?
”
“
It
’
s the first meal of the day, and it is now just a few minutes past seven in the morning. It
’
s not such a difficult leap of logic to put those together.
”
She held her tongue just so, rotated her wrist, and then flipped the egg in the pan without disturbing the deep yellow yolk.
“
No, I mean why are
you
preparing breakfast?
”
He folded his arms and anchored his feet, using his broad back to hold the door wide open.
The morning light, muted by overcast skies, added a depth to his features that the brightest sunshine had erased, or at least, de-emphasized. She could see the lines of care etching outward from the corners of his deep eyes and the small creases that framed his smile, faint but always evident in his tanned cheeks. His damp hair looked even thicker, the waves and curls more unruly at the ends where he had tried to comb them back and down. The sight of him here, in her kitchen, dressed and ready to face the day sparked a subdued and startling excitement in her.