Peach Pies and Alibis (17 page)

Once the bubbly began to flow, the guests crowded around the two buffet tables. The
majority headed to Vaughn and Lynn’s table first, piling their plates high with creamy
goat cheese spread over whole grain crackers, cubes of herb cheese served on bamboo
skewers along with cherry tomatoes and green olives, and wedges of soft, white Farmer’s
Cheese paired with hunks of fresh bread.

At the end of the table, two watermelons had been hulled and filled with ripe fruit.
The guests sipped champagne,
talked, and ate. And when they’d finished their cheese course, they began to drift
over to the dessert buffet.

Ella Mae and Reba described the various tarts and encouraged people to sample more
than one treat. When Verena got in line, she turned to her husband, Buddy, and said,
“Take two of everything! I’ll eat anything you don’t want!”

“I know you will, darling,” he said, giving her round hip a fond pat.

“There’ll just be more of me to love after this evening!” She laughed heartily.

The guests moaned with pleasure as they took bites of Ella Mae’s tarts. They nibbled
buttery crusts with their front teeth, licked meringue from their fingers, and laid
candied ginger curls onto their tongues, savoring a host of textures and flavors.
It wasn’t long before the effects of the tiny pies began to influence them and they
set their empty plates down haphazardly in order to dance with their spouses or dates
on the lawn. Though they couldn’t explain why, they were compelled to hold another
person, to move as one body over the soft grass.

By this time, the sun had set and Freda and Peter lit candles all around the porch.
The moon wasn’t quite full, but it hung low enough in the sky to bathe the ground
with a wash of ivory light.

Sensing the shift in mood, the string quartet began to play a slow waltz and Peter
led his daughter to the center of the ring of wedding guests and took her in his arms,
his face aglow with pride and love.

Freda looked on with a wistful expression until Candis pulled her onto the lawn and
the trio formed a tight family circle. They swayed together until the song ended and
then Rudy led his mother into the center of the group of dancers.

“See what you can do,” Reba whispered. “No one will ever forget this moment.” She
then trotted down the steps
and into the arms of a middle-aged gentleman with a bald head and an impish grin.

Ella Mae glanced around. The porch had nearly emptied. Every guest had claimed a dance
partner, surrendering to the enchantment created by Ella Mae’s pies. Even Vaughn and
Lynn had abandoned their stations behind the buffet table. Ella Mae’s mother and aunts
had all accepted invitations to waltz, leaving very few unattached women on the fringes
of the makeshift dance floor.

One of them was Loralyn. She was staring daggers at Sloan, who was threading his way
through the guests toward the porch. Toward Ella Mae.

“Is Cinderella ready to join the ball?” a voice asked from behind her.

Ella Mae turned to find Hugh standing in the garden bed, a rose in his hand. He offered
it to her with a smile that pierced her heart like an arrow.

“I can’t…” she began and then trailed off. How was she going to explain Sloan’s presence?

“They’ve eaten all of your pies,” Hugh pointed out. “I don’t think you have to stand
guard over an empty table. Come on. Put this rose in your hair and dance with me.
I’ve been thinking about nothing else for days.”

A shadow fell between them, and Ella Mae pivoted to find Sloan beside her, blocking
the soft candlelight.

“Sorry, friend,” he said to Hugh, though his voice made it clear that he wasn’t the
least bit apologetic. “I’ve been waiting a long time to talk to her.”

Hugh frowned and searched Ella Mae’s face. “Who is this guy?” he asked, clearly taking
an immediate dislike to Sloan.

Again, Ella Mae hesitated. What could she say?

He’s the man who cheated on me with a set of redhead twins?
she thought ruefully.
This is Sloan Kitteridge, my soon-to-be ex-husband?
The person I thought I’d spend the rest of my life with? The man who’s trying to win
me back?

And that’s when it hit her. The hurt she’d pushed aside all summer long welled up
inside and she looked at Sloan. She really looked at him, seeing the man he used to
be. The man she’d once loved. He was still her husband, and she couldn’t deny that
she felt something for him. She just wasn’t sure what that something was. They’d been
together for seven years. He was familiar. And yet, he was a stranger too.

Suddenly, Loralyn appeared from around the corner of the house. She quickly took in
the situation and grinned with satisfaction. “Hugh,” she purred. “Aren’t you dancing?”
She glanced up at Ella Mae. “If the pie girl’s busy, you could always ask me.”

Ella Mae heard the enchantment woven in Loralyn’s voice. Invisible threads of magic
shot through the air, and Ella Mae saw the glimmer vanish from Hugh’s eyes. His jaw
went a little slack and he seemed befuddled.

He tried to resist Loralyn’s charms. With a shake of his head, he reached forward
with the rose once more, silently imploring Ella Mae to accept it. She did, nearly
weeping as she breathed in its scent of moonlight and champagne.

“We need to leave these lovebirds alone,” Loralyn said, injecting her voice with more
magic. The unseen threads tightened, binding Hugh in their power.

He furrowed his brow. “Why? Who is that guy?” He looked to Loralyn for an answer and
she was more than happy to oblige.

“Hugh Dylan, may I present Mr. Sloan Kitteridge?” She swept her arm in Sloan’s direction.
“This is Ella Mae’s husband. I believe he’s here in Havenwood to make things right
with his estranged wife. I don’t think it would be very courteous of us to interrupt,
do you?”

Taking hold of Hugh’s elbow, she began to pull him toward the dancers. No longer able
to fight against her, he blinked in confusion and then followed Loralyn like an obedient
dog.

“It seems I have competition,” Sloan said, his dark eyes fixed on Hugh’s back.

At that moment, Ella Mae could feel the sparkle vanishing from the evening. It was
as if a black hole had opened in the sky above and was sucking all the light into
its core. The music sounded flat, the stars were dull, and joy no longer perfumed
the air. Instead of feeling beautiful in her dress and heels, Ella Mae felt sad and
tired. She’d had her chance. She’d had her wedding day with Sloan all those years
ago, and now the night belonged to Candis and Rudy. To their guests. To everyone but
her.

“I’m going to fight for you,” Sloan said, taking her gently by the hand.

Sighing, Ella Mae pulled her hand away and retrieved her purse from under the buffet
table. “Don’t go all gladiator on me. Please. Can we just have a cup of coffee and
a conversation?”

“Sure.” Sloan smiled. “Where to?”

“My pie shop,” Ella Mae said, collecting her serving utensils and cooler. “It’s the
only place I truly belong.”

Stepping away from Sloan, she spotted Hugh spinning Loralyn around in a graceful twirl.
She sighed again, and the sound of her heartache drifted, unheard, into the night.

Ella Mae didn’t get far. She’d barely collected her things when Freda Shaw stumbled
up the porch steps. Her face was pale and a sheen of sweat glistened on her brow.
Gripping the railing, she paused on the top step, and then abruptly bent at the waist
as though she’d just been assaulted by a terrible pain. Letting out a groan, she leaned
over and retched into the garden bed below.

“Is she drunk?” Sloan whispered as Freda sank to her knees, wincing.

“Freda!” Ella Mae raced to her side. “Are you okay? Do you need help?”

Freda shook her head. “It’s nothing.” She was practically panting. “I just need to
sit down for a minute.”

Ella Mae took hold of Freda’s left arm. Her skin was hot to the touch. “Sloan, help
me get Mrs. Shaw inside.”

Sloan put an arm around Freda’s waist. “Lean on me.” His voice was strong and calm.
He’d always been cool in a
crisis, and for this moment in time, Ella Mae was grateful to have him with her.

Once they’d gotten Freda to the living room sofa, Ella Mae examined her flushed face
and listened to her shallow breaths. Acting on impulse, she put a palm on Freda’s
cheek. “You’re burning up,” she said, half expecting steam to rise from the sick woman’s
flesh. “How long have you felt like this?”

Sloan headed to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water while Freda slumped against
the cushions. “I started running a fever two nights ago, but I figured it was just
wedding-related stress. I haven’t been sleeping well lately either. My neck hurts,
my head hurts.” She brushed her temples with shaky fingertips. When she spoke again,
her voice was a weak whisper. “To tell the truth, every muscle in my body aches. This
feels like the flu, but it’s only September. I need to get back out there, Ella Mae.
Candis and Rudy are going to ride off on Flash pretty soon and I have to be there.
I have to say good-bye to her.”

As if on cue, the music of the string quartet suddenly ceased, followed by a burst
of joyous applause. The noise was muted inside the empty house, but its meaning was
clear.

“It’s time,” Freda murmured weakly and tried to stand up, but she could barely lift
her head off the throw pillow. “She’s going!” she croaked, her eyes filling with tears.

Sloan helped her sit upright and pressed her to take a sip of water, but she waved
the glass away. “I need to see her. Please. Help me to the front door. They’ll come
around this way before galloping down the driveway and…” Her voice trailed off, and
without warning, her body went completely limp. She sagged back onto the sofa without
another word.

Ella Mae reached out to touch her on the shoulder when Freda’s torso began to shake.
At first, it was a mild tremor,
but within the space of a few seconds, her entire body started to buck violently.
It looked like she was being struck by lightning over and over again.

“She’s having a seizure,” Sloan said with unearthly calm. “Is she an epileptic?”

“Call for help!” Ella Mae cried, rolling Freda onto her side to keep her airway clear.
“And see if there’s a doctor among the wedding guests!”

Not knowing what else to do, Ella Mae slipped onto the sofa and gently lifted Freda’s
head onto her lap. She stroked Freda’s hair and whispered, “It’s all right. It’s all
right.”

The sight of the taut cords in Freda’s neck and the flash of white as her eyes rolled
back in their sockets filled Ella Mae with dread, but she repeatedly promised Freda
that help was on the way. Silently begging her to hang on, Ella Mae prayed for someone
to come to her rescue.

That someone was Hugh Dylan. He barreled into the room carrying a first-aid kit and
peppered Ella Mae with questions. With his attention firmly fixed on Freda, who had
abruptly stopped convulsing and was now lying deathly still, he listened to Ella Mae’s
account of Freda’s symptoms and then pulled a stethoscope from his kit.

“Her heart rate’s accelerated,” he said and then tore open a pack of smelling salts.
Waving the powerful aroma under Freda’s nostrils, he spoke her name and asked if she
could hear him.

Slowly, Freda appeared to return to her senses. The improvement was only physical,
however. Her eyes regained focus, but she stared at both Hugh and Ella Mae without
recognition. Even when Peter came flying to her side, she looked at him with a blank
expression. Blinking in confusion, she hugged a throw pillow to her chest and whimpered.
She looked incredibly vulnerable, like a lost child.

“Freda?” Peter’s voice quavered with fear. He held out
his hands, palms up, as though begging her to see him, to know him. “It’s me. Peter.”

She shrank back from his touch, her frightened gaze traveling from one face to another.

“Give her some space!” Verena barked from the doorway. “Come on, folks! Nothing we
can do but make matters worse by crowding the lady!”

Ella Mae had been silent during Hugh’s examination, but when Freda leaned her head
against her shoulder, she took the other woman’s hand and lightly rubbed her hot skin.
“It’ll be all right,” she repeated softly while tracing circles over the back of Freda’s
palm.

Freda gave her a feeble smile and then closed her eyes.

By the time the paramedics arrived, she had lost consciousness.

“Good thing Candis left before this happened,” Reba said after the ambulance disappeared
down the driveway. She offered her flask to Ella Mae. “No bride wants to see flashin’
lights on her wedding day unless they’re comin’ from a camera.”

Ella Mae glanced at the flask and shook her head. She felt drained by the shock of
Freda’s collapse, especially since it had fallen on the heels of Sloan’s unexpected
appearance. All she wanted to do was go home. Gone was any notion of sitting down
with her husband and having a calm and civil conversation over a cup of coffee. He
would just have to wait a little longer to talk with her.