"So I guess lunch is off!" he shouted after her.
She answered by storming inside and slamming the door behind her. She looked around and was grateful her parents were nowhere in the immediate vicinity. She ran upstairs to her bathroom, stripped and climbed into a hot shower. With the water running down her face, she could pretend there weren't any tears.
Arden's parents were anxiously awaiting her in the living room when she finally decided to go downstairs. She'd postponed it with an extra long shower and a few minutes of reacquainting herself with her soft, king-sized bed and big, cushy pillows. But she'd decided it would be rude to nap without filling her parents in on the details of her little ordeal. So she looked in the mirror, lifted her brows and placed a prim little smile on her lips. Then she bounced down the steps with enough pep to offer her parents' some relief, but not so much that she seemed overly excited about anything.
Her mother had coffee set up in the living room. When Arden walked in, the aroma nearly lifted her off her feet, which made her think of Travis, which made her frown and thereby caused her mother to straighten in alarm. "Baby girl, I was so worried about you!" Laura Butler said, jumping to her feet and opening her arms.
Arden smiled and embraced her mother. They sat on the sofa and Laura poured her a cup of coffee. They could have been twins if not for the age difference. Laura was Arden, twenty-years later. Both were of average height with shoulder-length blond hair and light brown eyes. Both were slim with slight features. And both carried themselves with an indefinable air of superiority.
"I was perfectly safe, Mom," Arden said. She smiled at her father who sat on the other sofa across the coffee table from them.
"I hope you don't mind," Laura said, "but I went ahead and called Nick. He'll be over shortly. I know he was worried sick, especially not knowing anything about this mechanic."
"Travis. He's okay. Ask anyone around town. He has a good reputation." Arden sipped her coffee and leaned back against the cushions of the couch. She swore to herself that she would never again take for granted central heat.
"A good reputation," her father said, "if you don't count bar-fighting and womanizing. And if you overlook the fact that he comes from a family of deadbeats and criminals."
Laura placed a pale hand over her chest. "Oh dear," she gasped.
Arden groaned and sipped her coffee. "I got to know him quite well. He's a good man. And maybe he gets in a lot of fights, but he's not a womanizer." A flirt, yes. Deadly charming, for sure. But generally very respectful.
"You know what people will say when it gets out that you spent four nights alone with him," her father said.
"Yes, I know," she groaned again.
"I just want you to be prepared in your mind. And..."
She was startled that he hesitated. Mark Butler spoke his mind boldly. "What?" she asked.
"And...I wanted to make sure that Mr. Lanier treated you...um...respectfully...and not in any way...inappropriately."
Arden's jaw dropped. "I'm engaged! You think I would sleep with another man while I'm engaged? After knowing him only a few days? How could you think that of me?"
Mark squirmed and cleared his throat and looked away.
"Sweetheart," Laura said, "It isn't that we don't trust you...but you were in a stressful situation and sometimes in instances like that..."
Arden slammed her coffee mug on the table, spilling a little coffee out onto the newspaper beneath it. She crossed her arms over her chest and jutted out her jaw. It was one of many of her Princess Poses, as Travis liked to call them.
"Don't be offended, Arden," Mark said gently.
"I am offended. I have mountains of moral fortitude and you people, my own parents, seem to think me capable of crumbling at the mere hint of danger and a handsome rescuer."
"Honey, please," Laura said. "It's just that people will talk."
"And you want to be able to truthfully refute any rumors?" Arden asked. "Well rest assured, I did not sleep with Travis."
Not that I didn't want to
, she thought. And then she sat taller with pride at the self-discipline she had displayed. God knows he had begged often enough. Poor man.
There was an awkward silence which Arden enjoyed since her parents looked mildly ashamed of themselves. She reached for her coffee cup and then paused as she saw the folded up Splitlog Chronicle on the table. The front page carried the headline, "Lloyd Redding Found Dead, Suicide." Arden picked up the paper. "Did you guys see this?"
There were audible sighs of relief from both parents at the subject change. Mark shook his head and Laura said, "Tragic. Just tragic."
None of them knew Lloyd well. He was her parents' age but very far from sharing their circle of friends. He owned a few trailers that he rented out and was generally known about town as a heavy drinker. But reading about this death so close to her experience at the Raymer's sent chills throughout her body. She was about to share this with her parents, but Mark spoke up first. "Where was it you and this...Travis...ended up taking shelter?"
"At the Raymer house. We had to bust down the door because..."
"Why did you have to break in?" Laura interrupted, clearly shocked at the prospect. "Weren't the Raymers at home?"
Arden laughed sharply. It was a question with an odd and disturbing answer. "No. The bank seized the property a couple of weeks ago. The Raymers..."
"So you were there without food or water?" Laura's voice pitched higher, a mixture of concern and distaste in her expression.
"There was water. It was just really cold. No electricity. But Travis kept a fire going. And there was a lot of canned food in the pantry, so we made do."
Laura's mouth hung open in disgust. She couldn't fathom living in such primitive conditions. "My poor baby!" she cried.
Arden rolled her eyes. "Mom, please..."
"You've been through so much! Let me call Dr. Weston."
"I don't need therapy, Mom."
"For God's sake, Laura," Mark chimed in. "You're completely overreacting. She was basically just camping."
"Camping?" Laura, who had never spent the night out of doors in her life, shrieked. She looked even more appalled than before.
Arden suppressed a grin.
The doorbell chimed, then. Mark went to answer it and came back with Nick at his side.
Nick was a beautiful young man. Everyone in their circle of friends couldn't wait to see the babies that these two produced. Nick, like Arden, was blond, but a few shades darker. He was raised driving boats and swimming in the big, slow river that snaked along the border of Splitlog. As a result, even in the winter, he was always tan, lean and smelling vaguely of sunscreen. He smiled when he saw Arden and held wide his arms.
Arden plastered on her best doting fiancée smile with just the right amount of adoration and went to him. They embraced briefly and then stepped apart.
"We'll just leave you kids alone," Laura said, taking her husband by the arm and leading him out of the sitting room.
Once they were gone, Nick lifted Arden off her feet and kissed her firmly on the lips. They drifted over to the sofa where Nick proceeded to kiss her passionately, moving from her lips to the side of her neck. Arden draped her arms over his shoulders and let him slobber all over her for the next few minutes. She glanced at her watch and suppressed a sigh. It was getting late.
She gently pushed him back and scooted a few inches away. "I think we should stop," she said.
"Why?" he asked, his voice groggy. His lips were wet and parted, his breathing shallow.
"I'm just really tired."
"Why don't you come spend the night with me?"
Arden shrugged. "I just got home. It was a really traumatic ordeal," she said, affecting a dramatic sigh and placing her hand to her throat like a corset-bound damsel with the vapors.
Nick smiled gently, but not bothering to mask his disappointment. "Alright. I'm just glad you're home safe. I can't say it didn't bother me knowing you were forced to spend four nights alone with that...that...grease monkey."
Arden pressed her lips together. The coffee service was still on the table between the two sofas. She leaned forward and poured herself another cup. "He's a good guy. Whatever happened to 'don't judge a book by its cover?'"
Nick scoffed. "Everyone knows all about the Lanier family history. His great-great granddad was a cattle thief. And that's practically a compliment compared to the rest of the descendants. You remember a few years back when his old man got sentenced to two life terms?"
"Of course I remember." She pulled her sleeves down over her hands and tucked her feet underneath her. Why couldn't he just go away. All she wanted right now was to crawl into her bed for the evening and read a good book. All of this being forced to defend Travis without betraying any emotions was wearing on her.
"So you can understand my concern?"
"Travis has earned a good reputation around town. He's done good, honest business with people. And though he appears on the outside to be something of a roughneck, he's actually really respectful of women. And if you don't like him, well you certainly have to admit that his brother, Dustin, is a solid, upstanding citizen. Blameless, really."
"I don't know either of them and frankly, I don't care. All I want to know is that he treated you well...I mean...respectfully."
Good God, how much more of this must she sit through? "He did," Arden said.
Nick deflated, slumping back into the sofa. "I don't think I slept the entire time," he said, his tone becoming somber. "I was so worried about you and him together."
"Give it a rest, Nick. Feigned jealousy is not a turn-on for me. Besides, you know I'd never go for a guy like Travis anyway."
He sat abruptly forward and gripped her chin between to fingers turning her to face him. She was not a fan of this sudden physical treatment. She made a mental note to pay closer attention lest he become a bully. "I was worried about him hurting you," Nick said.
Arden jerked her head away. "Well he didn't," she said.
"You can't possibly blame me for being uncomfortable with the situation?"
She sighed and turned away. "No, I don't blame you. It's just, when this gets out, people are going to gossip about me and I hate having my integrity called into question. I just hope you know me well enough to trust me when I say that nothing happened."
"Of course I do. I know you'd never cheat on me. It's him I don't trust. Be honest. In the five days you two were alone together, did he really not try anything?"
Arden couldn't stop herself turning red and her blush was answer enough for him.
"See? So I do have a right to be concerned."
"You did. But you don't any longer. I'm home. Everything is going to go right back to the way it was."
CHAPTER TWELVE
Dustin Lanier sat on the couch with his head in his hands in the house he shared with his older brother Travis. He stood two inches shorter than Travis, not nearly as broad across the shoulders and lighter of hair and complexion. But they'd both inherited their father's bright blue eyes which was a dead giveaway to anyone contemplating whether these two were actually brothers.
Dustin heard the shower kick on and hoped Duane, their youngest brother, would take plenty of time. He'd been in that jail cell all week and apparently hadn't showered once. On the drive home, Dustin could hardly breathe for the awful smell.
At the sound of tires on gravel, Dustin looked over his shoulder and out the window. Travis pulled in, driving the tow truck. Dustin stood and went to the door to greet his brother who didn't even look at him as he dragged his feet through the door and collapsed into his favorite armchair.
Great,
Dustin thought, and braced himself for the upcoming confrontation between Travis and Duane. Travis was a man of many moods and today, for some reason, he appeared to be brooding. Dustin wondered if anyone would notice if he slipped quietly out of their lives and let them deal with each other.
He watched as Travis flipped on the television for the morning news and tossed the remote carelessly onto the coffee table. It landed with a dull thud on top of a pile of old car magazines.
Dustin studied him for a moment before closing the door. He sat back down on the edge of the couch and looked from Travis to the television and back again. "So," Dustin began, pausing in case Travis wanted to take control of the conversation. When he didn't, Dustin sighed inwardly. "So, did you get Arden Butler delivered safely home?"
Travis nodded, still staring at the TV. "I guess that's Duane in the bathroom," Travis said. His voice was a couple of shades deeper than the other brothers. Dustin sometimes cringed when he heard Travis get angry because he sounded exactly as their father had.
"Yeah," Dustin answered. "Is there going to be a problem? Or can we talk this out calmly like men?"
Travis dropped his feet from the edge of the coffee table to the floor and sat up straight. "Yes, oh wise one, we can talk this out like men. Jesus, Dustin." Travis buried his face in his hands and groaned in frustration.
Dustin hadn't seen him in this bad of a mood in years. The only cure for it was a good fight. Maybe he could take Travis up to Rowdy's later that night and see if there was anybody up there he could piss off. "What the hell's wrong with you?" Dustin asked.
"Nothing," Travis groaned through his hands. "I just hate my life."
Dustin leaned forward and put his hand on Travis's shoulder. "Hey," he said, and waited for Travis to look up at him. "Do I need to be concerned about you?"
Travis shook his head and looked away. "No. I'm fine. Just tired."
"You look pretty bad, Trav."
Travis shook his head again. "No, really. I'll be okay. I'll stay sober. No worries."
Dustin leaned back and nodded, reluctantly. Then suddenly he grinned. "It must have been torture being cooped up with that girl for five days. I hear she's a real bitch."