His Southern Sweetheart (9 page)

“Of course I needed to escort you here,” Nate said. He closed the door behind her but didn't move, much like the first night he followed her home. “It's the least I could do, since you didn't let me drive you home last night.”

“You were being childish.” Amelia's pink-and-white polka-dotted ballerina flats hit the pavement of the sidewalk. She tugged at the hem of her white T-shirt-material dress so her thighs didn't show. A string of pink pearls hung around her neck. She wore them for Grandmamma's sake, who insisted no Southern girl should go out without her pearls.

“You're going to blame last night on me?” Nate followed her down the pathway toward the hospital.

Amelia stopped walking. Nate trailed so close he bumped into her when she paused. She spun on her heels and craned her neck to look up at him. “I left this town for a reason. I have nothing but bad memories.”

“Your whole life here?”

An Elvis-like curl came over her upper lip. “What does it matter to you if I hate this town or not?”

The front of his shirt expanded with his deep breath. “You're right. My bad. I was thinking, with you being unemployed now, you might want to stay here.”

A fluffy cloud blew over the hospital. “Why?”

“Didn't you mention something about losing your apartment?”

Did she? How soon she'd forgotten stretching the truth. She needed to keep a diary to keep track of the things she told Nate. Amelia glanced back at the sky. The cloud had now disappeared. A storm was brewing. “I don't need you to worry about my finances.”

Nate threw his hands in the air for surrender. “All right.”

They both started walking again. “I don't need you to walk me into the hospital, either.”

“I want to make sure you get in safe and sound,” Nate said as the automatic doors slid open, but not before Amelia caught a glimpse of his smirk.

A few seconds passed before Amelia's eyes adjusted to the difference of the lights in the receptionist's area. The young woman smiled in relief at the sight of her.

“Miss Marlow.” She snatched off her headset and came around the circular desk to embrace Amelia.

Amelia awkwardly patted the girl on the back. When did Southwood become such a hugging town? However, unless she was crazy, Amelia was sure the girl shuddered. “Is my grandmother okay?”

“She's fine.” The girl sniffed and regained her composure. “Miss Helen is actually in the waiting room with a guest.”

Being part of the community, Helen Marlow had lots of friends. But she'd wanted this accident to be a secret, so Amelia was curious about who was visiting. She followed the plastered signs toward the waiting room; all the while Nate was on her heels.

“Really, Nate.” Amelia inhaled deeply.

“What?” He chuckled and captured her hand. Amelia did not pull away. “Are you afraid to be seen with someone like me?”

They fell into step together. To be honest with herself, Amelia enjoyed facing off with her grandmother with someone by her side...especially someone like Nate. With Amelia being so close to thirty and not married, Grandmamma reminded her constantly.

High-pitched laughter echoed down the hallway. Amelia rounded the corner to the open room filled with dozens of chairs, a few vending machines and a coffeemaker. Two figures sat close together by the window. There was no mistaking Grandmamma's propped-up white cast.

“Grandmamma?”

The gentleman seated with her stood up and crossed the room to meet her. “Well, Amelia Marlow, as I live and breathe.”

“Pastor Rivers.” Amelia dropped Nate's hand.

“Nate?” Pastor Rivers pulled back from his hug to Amelia. “This part of your community service?”

“Yes, sir.” Nate cleared his throat. “Just doing my duty and bringing the young lady to her grandmamma.”

“You don't get to call me that.” Grandmamma maneuvered her wheelchair around in an awkward circle, knocking several of the folding chairs over. Amelia went to help but her grandmother swatted her hand away. “Who is this you brought here?”

“Grandmamma—” Amelia inhaled deeply “—this is Nathaniel Reyes, but he goes by Nate.”

“Well, Nathaniel,” Grandmamma said in a clipped tone, “don't you own an iron or is this the new fashion?”

Nate smiled and thankfully ignored her grandmother's gruffness. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Marlow. May I say you have a beautiful home?”

“What the hell are you doing in my home? Lord, Amelia, you better not have all kinds of people up in my house.”

Somewhere deep inside her, the seventeen-year-old Amelia shrank into herself. “No, ma'am. Nate's been helping me fix things up for you,” she interjected before Grandmamma began lecturing them.

“Miss Helen,” Pastor Rivers spoke up, “Nate is an honorable young man. I can vouch for him.”

Grandmamma glared skeptically at Nate with her hazel eyes. “Well, whatever you two are doing, best get it done soon. The doc says I can finish recuperating in the next day or so.”

“Yes, ma'am,” said Nate.

The Southern drawl he spoke with turned her on when it shouldn't. Amelia shook the sound of his deep twang out of her head. She preferred men with more of an international range, much like when he had rolled his
R
when they were in bed together.
Mmm, bed together
. Was it getting hot in here? Amelia's fingers itched to fan her face. She hadn't realized she'd been daydreaming as Nate explained what they were doing. When she came into focus, Grandmamma's face was skewed with a frown.

“Think about the good they're doing, Miss Helen,” Pastor Rivers said, stepping between Grandmamma and Nate. “They're moving everything downstairs so you won't have to climb those stairs every single night. Won't that be better for you?”

* * *

“Tell me about your day, girls.” Nate pushed a plate of store-bought cookies in front of his two favorite nieces, who were now pouting. “Did Uncle Stephen get you off to school okay?”

Both girls widened their eyes at him. Philly's mouth opened and she quickly covered her mouth to suppress her gasp. “Girls?”

Kimber folded her arms across her sparkled T-shirt. Her smirk, so much like her father's, made him grin. With Stephen in town to help on a more permanent basis, Nate was able to enjoy more grown-up activity apart from the house. The love he had for the girls, however, never allowed him to spend more than a night or two away. He'd spent two nights away with Amelia—sort of. He'd still slept on the couch in the barn last night.

“I believe you did not use the correct pronunciation in my name,” said Stephen, coming down the kitchen stairs.

“Oh.” Nate laughed. “Did
Tío
Stephen get you off to school on time?”

“Why would you ask them such a question?” asked Stephen. He opened the fridge and grabbed the gallon-sized milk container.

“Uh, because the last time you were supposed to take the girls to school, you overslept and they stayed home for the day.”

“Not all of us.” Stephen cut his eyes at their oldest niece.

Kimber blinked her lashes innocently the same way Amelia had last night. “School was fine,
Tío
Nate.”

“Miss Brittany has more paperwork for you,” Philly said, shoveling a chocolate chip cookie in her mouth. “She said you should come by after school today.”

The back of his jaw twitched as he ground his molars together. Brittany should not be passing messages on through his niece. “What? I spent all last week filling everything out. You can handle it this time,” Nate said to his brother.

“But she loves it when you work with her.” Stephen set the milk on the table and pinched Nate's cheeks. Nate swatted his hand away. “She might be the only person in the world willing to put up with you and your wrinkly ass.”

“Oooooh,” Philly exhaled. She sat on her knees to try and pour a cup of milk without everyone helping. Nate cringed at the idea of milk spilling everywhere, but she did it without making a mess. Did she learn this while he was gone? Why didn't Stephen text him and let him know?

“Girls, thank
Tío
Stephen for funding our trip to
Abuela
's next week,” said Nate. He rested his arms on the table and spun the cold jug around.

“Ugh,” Kimber moaned. “Labor Day can't get here soon enough. I need a break.”

Nate shook his head. “I thought you said school was great.”

“Yes, I did. I saw my old friends and made new ones. I had to listen all day to everyone's wonderful summer stories, the summer I wasted because you two grounded me.”

Nate pretended to be really interested in what Kimber said, resting his face in his hand and nodding when she went on about how her evil uncles had grounded her all because they did not understand her. “Tell me more.”

When Kimber realized he was making fun of her, she stormed off, Philly in tow. Stephen took the opportunity to sit in one of the unoccupied chairs and dig into the cookies. The plastic container crackled with his meaty hands cramming inside. “So what's really going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“I haven't seen you since Saturday and I almost put out an APB on you.”

Half smiling and half nodding, Nate chuckled. “I am okay. I needed to stop in and grab my contracting contacts. And some clothes.” He wasn't sure why he added the latter.

“So the auction girl is working you hard, huh?”

“Don't read too much into it,” Nate groaned. “Amelia is more about revenge and the chick is taking her anger out on me.”

“What did you do?”

“Distracted her, and by doing so, made her mess up a work duty.”

Stephen ran a hand over his bald head. “What am I missing here?”

“The auction chick worked with Natalia.”

“Oh, her producer?”

“Field producer,” Nate said with authority, now that he'd learned more about the reality television world.

Cookie crumbs fell from Stephen's beard when he pressed his lips together. “Hmm,” he hummed. “You guys are getting close.”

“She's prickly, but I'm getting through to her. I'm going to help her get her grandmother's place fixed up. You ought to meet her.”

“The girl or the grandmother?”

“The grandmother. She's pricklier than Caridad. And her attitude...” Nate went on. “Last night she threw her dessert at me, and this is after I agreed with Emily about her coming to Saturday's wedding.”

“The grandmother?”

Nate shook his head, his eyes half closed. “What?”

“Who are you taking to the wedding?”

“Amelia,” Nate replied, a breath away from adding, “Duh.”

“You know what all this sounds like to me, Nate?”

“What?”

“Sounds complicated,” Stephen commented with a raised brow.

* * *

Stephen's words resonated in Nate's head the whole drive back to Four Points General. He didn't understand how things were complicated. Amelia blamed him for the destruction of her life and he felt the need to set things right for her. Without a job or probably now any income, she needed to establish her life in Southwood. Whatever had happened here for her, he was sure could be fixed.

The smell of antiseptic snapped Nate out of his daze. A candy striper greeted him at the front desk after he walked in through the sliding glass doors. “Hi, I was here a little while ago with my, uh, friend, Amelia Marlow. She's here visiting her grandmother.”

“They're in the cafeteria.” The young girl pointed in the opposite direction from the waiting room. “If you need me to walk you down, I'm more than willing.”

Nate offered a wink to the girl, who couldn't be much older than Kimber. “I've got this, thanks.”

The soles of his tan Timberlands squeaked against the linoleum floor. At least the yellow caution sign near a bucket made him aware of the need to slow his pace. He did so and began walking to the beat of his heart—quick. Why did his heart skip a beat with the anticipation of seeing Amelia again?

The soft laugh he'd heard her make floated into the corridor. Nate wondered what her grandmother had said to cause such a genuine sound. An image popped into his head of the two of them sitting on the porch in one of the rocking chairs, sipping on some iced tea and Amelia laughing at something witty he'd say. Light spilled into the hallway at the entrance. The smells of stale coffee mixed with some probably unsalted chicken breasts and plain rice filtered in the air. The closer he got, the more the scent of the food overpowered that of the cleaning materials.

He stopped at the entrance, letting his eyes find the Marlow party. People—patients and doctors—filled the large room. The tables were square and colorful in shades of pale turquoise, pink, green and yellow. In the back of the room, a line formed in front of a dinging cash register. The laughter sounded off and Nate narrowed his glance toward the back of the room. Amelia faced the doorway. Her hand clutched her pearls and her head dipped back at whatever someone was saying to her. The sun shone against her dark hair and haloed her head like an angel's.

“Damn, you clean up good.”

Nate had been so caught up on Amelia, he hadn't noticed Helen Marlow being wheeled up to him by a girl favoring Amelia in looks. Amelia had mentioned she came to the auction with a cousin. Because she met him backstage, Nate never met the relative face-to-face. The similarities were uncanny. This must be her.

“Grandmamma,” the girl who wasn't Amelia scolded, giving a shake to the rubber handles of the arms of the wheelchair. “Don't embarrass the man.”

Pressing his hand on his chest, Nate glanced down to inspect his attire—denims and a fresh white V-neck T-shirt. “Don't be too hard on her. This is a step up from what I wore earlier.”

“Well, on her behalf, I'm sorry.” She leaned forward and extended her hand. “Please to meet you, Mr. Reyes, I'm Cayla Marlow-Beaumont.”