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“He’s quite popular with some members of his flock,” Marilee said, offering him a tight-lipped smile. “You might say he takes a hands-on approach to those who are most troubled.” Sam nodded as she spoke, as though trying to make sense of the situation. But how could he possibly understand? “Uh, look, Sam, I’d really appreciate it if you’d keep this little matter between us. You know how it is, small town and all.”
“I wouldn’t think of embarrassing you. But how do I know you won’t stick your face in the oven the minute I walk out the door?”
“I’m a grown woman, and I can take care of myself,” she replied stiffly. She paused to get a grip on her emotions. He had probably saved her life, and she should be grateful, but she needed time to gather her thoughts. The experience had been harrowing. She took a deep, shaky breath. “I promise not to hurt myself again.”
“I hope you’re sincere,” he said at last, offering his hand to seal the bargain. Marilee paused before taking it. It was big and warm, the palm toughened by the work he did. They shook. “We’ve got a deal,” he said. “I expect you to honor it.” He was surprised by the self-deprecating smile that touched her lips. She had always seemed so confidant, so self-assured. Who had hurt her so badly? he wondered, feeling oddly protective of her.
He released her hand. The last thing he needed to do was get involved in her troubles. She was a married woman, and he had his hands full trying to keep up with his mother and a new business. That reminded him of the architect who was supposed to drop by later. “I’d better go.” He made for the door, paused and turned. “Uh, Marilee?”
“Yes?” Her gaze locked with his, and for a moment she felt completely disoriented. She blinked, trying to make sense of the strange sensations sweeping through her. What was going on here? Had she killed off some brain cells when the noose tightened around her neck? Or perhaps she did have a concussion and didn’t know it. Either way, she was suddenly acutely aware of him as a man, the tall, athletic physique and broad shoulders. She couldn’t seem to stop staring at his eyes. They were observant. Was he aware that she was looking at him in that way? No wonder the girls at Chickpea High had followed him around like puppies. She cast her own eyes downward, certain that no decent woman would stare so blatantly at a man. And her married to boot!
“I know this is a bad time,” he said, “but do you happen to have an iron I could borrow?”
At first she thought she’d misunderstood. “An iron?”
He nodded. “I’ve misplaced mine. I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.”
She couldn’t imagine anyone making such a request at a time like this, but from the looks of his clothes an iron was exactly what he needed. Not to mention a hairbrush and razor. “Yes, of course. Just give me a second to find it.” Marilee hurried to the utility room, thankful for the reprieve. She had to gather her wits about her or the man would sure enough think she had lost her mind.
The iron was on a shelf next to the spray starch and laundry detergent. Marilee leaned her head against the shelf, feeling as though she needed to bang it hard and clear the muddle inside. In all her married life she had never once looked at another man. Well, not the way she was looking at Sam Brewer.
Lord help her.
Marilee took a deep breath, raised her head and reached for the iron. She dusted it off and retraced her steps to the living room. “It hasn’t been used in a while,” she said, her voice sounding stiff and unnatural. She had to get him out of there if it was the last thing she did. “I hope it still works.”
“I really appreciate this.”
He looked so grateful that Marilee wondered if there was a shortage of irons in Chickpea. “You’re welcome.”
“I’ll return it as soon as I’m finished.”
“Keep it as long as you like,” she said quickly, in no hurry to face him again after what had transpired.
Sam was reluctant to leave her, but he had no choice. “I’m, uh, just next door if you need something.”
“Thank you.” Marilee walked him to the door, noting the damaged trim. “Oh my.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “When I heard you scream I broke in. I can fix it. And the ceiling beam.”
“No, please, you’ve done enough.” In a matter of minutes he’d turned her upside down and inside out. That was more than enough after the kind of day she’d had.
“Well then, I’d better get going.” He started down the front walk, glancing over his shoulder for one last look. She stood at the door, watching him. He wondered if she remembered visiting when his father died. She and her mother had taken food over, offering their sincere condolences. They’d even attended the funeral. Both of them had been so kind to his mother, and Marilee had sought him out in the crowd and told him how sorry she was. She had done her best to console him when all he could think of was how angry he felt at losing his dad. He had never forgotten her caring nature.
Sam waved and crossed the yard to his own property.
Marilee closed the door and breathed a sigh of relief. If she didn’t get a grip on herself she was going to suffer a bad case of the vapors, just like her grandmother used to do when the worms ate her tomato plants. Here she was, ogling her sexy neighbor as if he was something out of a box of Godiva chocolates, when what she needed to be doing was deciding what to do with the rest of her life.
CHAPTER TWO
MARILEE HAD BEEN CLEANING nonstop for several hours when the doorbell rang. She hesitated before opening the door, afraid that it was Sam Brewer, returning the iron. She was a mess, having changed into old gray sweats and sneakers, and she smelled of disinfectant. Marilee would almost prefer giving Sam the dang iron, just to keep from facing him again. In fact, she was tempted not to answer the door at all, but after three rings she realized she had no choice. When she opened it, she found her best friends, Clara Goolesby and Ruby Led-better, standing on the other side.
“Marilee, you have a lot of explaining to do,” Clara said, frowning so hard her black eyebrows touched in the center, as though someone had drawn a straight line across her forehead with a black marker. Her short hair, dyed black as crow’s feathers to hide the gray, stood in tufts, a sure sign that she was upset, because she had a habit of plucking the ends when she was anxious about something. The town librarian, Clara was usually quiet and reserved, the exception being when she discovered food spills or dog-eared pages on her beloved books. Then she was a menace.
“Darn right she owes us an explanation,” Ruby echoed, crossing her arms over her breasts. She was a diminutive blonde, no bigger than a minute but a formidable opponent when riled. As owner of Classy Cuts Hair Salon, she was a shrewd businesswoman who tried to stay one step ahead of her competition, Martha Grimes, who ran The Hair Affair.
“What in heaven’s name were you thinking, Marilee?” Clara insisted. “How could you just disappear on us like that, without telling us where you were going? If it hadn’t been for my exceptional memory, we’d never have found you.”
Ruby looked at Clara. “Your exceptional memory? Hell’s bells, Clara, we searched for almost seventy-two hours before you thought of coming here.”
“That may be true, Ruby, but I’m the one who remembered how Marilee couldn’t bear to sell this place after her poor sweet mama died. And you don’t have to resort to foul language to get your point across.”
Marilee looked from one woman to the other. “Is something wrong?”
Both women gaped at her. Clara drew herself up and sniffed as though she smelled something foul. “Did you forget you were supposed to play the piano at the Grace Blessing Home benefit luncheon on Saturday?”
Marilee gasped. “Oh, no!”
“Oh, yes! We had more than two hundred women show up from six counties who paid twenty bucks to eat overdone roast beef and listen to you play Mozart on Richard Griffin’s baby grand piano.” She paused to catch her breath. “And after all we went through to get that piano inside the school auditorium and pay to have it tuned. Well,” she added in a huff, “Alma Jones ended up playing hymns, and the poor thing is so old she’s tone deaf. Marilee, how could you!”
“Yes, how could you!” Ruby seconded. “We had a devil of a time getting that piano back to Mr. Griffin. Not to mention having to pay for another tuning.”
Clara nodded. “And that’s not the half of it. We collected almost a thousand dollars selling raffle tickets, but guess who still has the pure silver antique candelabra in the trunk of her car?”
Marilee paled instantly. Not only had she forgotten about the benefit luncheon, she hadn’t remembered that she held the prize for the winning raffle ticket. She felt a wave of panic wash over her. And just when she’d decided to get her life in order and start afresh.
“You can just imagine how mad Esmerelda Cunningham was over the whole thing,” Ruby said. “Especially since she donated that dumb candelabra and claimed it’d been in her family since before Jesus was born.”
“Ruby!” Clara frowned and shook her head, then turned her attention back to Marilee. “Esmerelda said we had twenty-four hours to collect the candelabra or she was going to have you arrested.”
“Arrested!” Marilee cried. “Does she think I stole it?” Her heart began to beat faster. After all that had happened, the last thing she needed was to go to jail.
Clara shifted her gaze. “We didn’t know what to think. Especially with Grady getting fired from the church over some…well, you know.” Clara paused, as though trying to come up with the right word.
“Two-bit whore?” Ruby offered.
Clara cut her eyes at the woman. “Honestly, Ruby, the things you say.”
“Esmerelda said you probably hocked that candelabra and hightailed it out of town,” Ruby said. “Not that anybody’d really blame you, after all you’ve been through.”
Clara gave an embarrassed cough. “Perhaps we shouldn’t go into that right now, Ruby.”
Marilee was still hurt over Esmerelda Cunningham’s accusations. Esmerelda was Chickpea’s wealthiest citizen and the closest thing to royalty the town had ever seen. Marilee, who’d been involved with the fund-raiser since its conception, had personally asked the woman for a donation and had discovered she was not only a snob but stingy as well. Esmerelda had agreed to part with her beloved candelabra, but she’d been none too pleased about it.
Her first thoughts were of Grady. He could handle Esmerelda. But no, Grady was no longer in the picture. It was up to her. Her. She suddenly realized just how many problems Grady had taken care of in their sixteen years of marriage. Now they were her problems. Her moment of truth hit her in the face like a lead pipe. She was now solely responsible for her own life. That in itself was enough reason to pawn the candelabra and leave town.
Clara plucked at her hair. “No Mozart, no raffle prize. Can you imagine how utterly ridiculous we felt?”
“And Benson Contractors walked off the job this afternoon for nonpayment,” Ruby told her. “Bobby Benson said he wasn’t going to make any more repairs to Blessing Home until he was paid—in full.”
“What about the roof?” Marilee asked frantically.
Clara shook her head sadly. “The money we raised won’t come close to covering it. Bobby nailed plastic over the holes in the roof and left without so much as a fare-thee-well.”
“We’ll never be able to come up with that kind of money,” Ruby said. “Not legally, anyway.”
Marilee sank into the nearest chair. “I am so sorry.” She was close to tears. They had been working for weeks to raise funds for the unwed mothers’ home, and she had let everybody down.
“Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find lodging for twelve pregnant girls in a town this size?” Clara asked, tapping the toe of her shoe impatiently. “My place is no bigger than a shoebox, and I’ve had two seventeen-year-old expectant mothers living with me for weeks now. Then, today, they get into a catfight, and one of them packs her bags. Which reminds me—”
“I would gladly take the girl in,” Ruby interrupted, “but my place is smaller than Clara’s.”
Marilee jumped up from her chair and started toward the kitchen. “I’ll call Bobby Benson right now and explain.”
Clara turned to close the door, then paused at the sight of splintered wood. Instead of saying anything, she merely shook her head, as though nothing would surprise her at this point.
Ruby followed Marilee. “Bobby left town this afternoon for a week-long fishing trip.”
“How could you do this to us?” Clara repeated. “I’m so mad I can’t stand it. Why, I feel like slapping somebody.”
“Slap Marilee,” Ruby said, “if it’ll make you feel better.”
Marilee stepped closer. “Go ahead. It certainly beats having my head chewed off.”
Clara drew herself up proudly. “I happen to be a lady, and I prefer to act like one, even if you did let us down.”
“Enough, already!” Marilee cried, feeling as though she might pull her hair out any minute. “You’ve made your point. I blew it!”
Both women stared at her openmouthed. “Dear, you don’t have to shout,” Clara said. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with our hearing.”
Marilee planted her hands on her hips. “I know the two of you are going to find this hard to believe, but I’ve been preoccupied the past few days. My life has completely fallen apart, so I’d appreciate it if you’d cut me some slack.”
“What Grady did was despicable,” Ruby said gently, only to have Clara nudge her hard. “Oh, Clara, stop it. We have to talk about it. We can’t just pretend it never happened.” She walked over and hugged Marilee. “Honey, how did you find out?”
“Grady told me,” she said calmly. “Said he had feelings for another woman and was tired of living a lie. Said he didn’t belong on the pulpit. Josh overheard the whole thing. By the time Grady met with the church board and received his dismissal, Josh had packed his father’s clothes, as well as his own.”
“Oh, Marilee, how awful for you,” Clara said.
“You must’ve started packing as well,” Ruby said. “By the time Clara and I heard the news, you’d already up and gone.”
“I was too embarrassed to stay. All I could think of was coming here.”
Clara’s look softened. “I wouldn’t really have slapped you.” She paused. “Marilee, what happened to your neck?”
“What I want to know is what happened to that ceiling beam?” Ruby said, glancing up.
Marilee gave a grunt of disgust. “I tried to hang myself.”
Clara gasped. “Marilee, how can you say such a thing?”
Ruby shot her a dark look. “That’s not a bit funny. Not one bit.”
“Hang yourself, indeed,” Clara quipped.
Marilee realized she’d gone too far. She must be hysterical. “I’m sorry. Truth is, I have termites. As for my neck, I think my mother’s pearl choker caused a rash.” She was surprised how easily the lies slipped from her lips.
“That’s the very reason I don’t wear jewelry,” Clara announced. “It makes me break out every time. As for those termites, you’d better have someone take care of it right away. I’ve heard what kind of damage they can do. You wouldn’t believe what happened to my cousin.”
Ruby frowned and shook her head. “Hush, Clara. The last thing Marilee needs to hear is one of your horror stories about what happened to somebody in your family. Can’t you see the poor girl has enough on her mind? Her husband has dumped her for a woman with tangerine-colored hair, and her son wants nothing to do with her. Why, folks can talk of nothing else. I don’t know how poor Marilee will ever be able to show her face in public again. I think she can wait a couple of days before worrying about stupid termites.”
Marilee’s look was deadpan. “Thank you, Ruby. I feel much better now that you’ve put it all into perspective for me.”
“You’re welcome, honey.”
“I suppose we shouldn’t have been so hard on you because you forgot the benefit,” Clara said. “I wouldn’t be so upset if Esmerelda hadn’t caused such a ruckus. And then those pregnant girls had to get into a snit with one another. I had to break it up. Which reminds me—”
“Grady has lost his mind,” Ruby declared. “It’s that blood pressure thing. The minute a man has health problems he has to go out and prove to himself he’s still got what it takes. You ask me, I think the scare brought on his midlife crisis. Either way, he’ll come around.”
Marilee hitched her chin high as she thought of all Grady had put her through the past few days. She had been so hurt at first she couldn’t stop crying. Well, the hurt and self-pity were gone. Now she was mad as hell.
“He’d better not come around here. He’s going to rue the day he moved my son into that…that trollop’s mobile home.”
Clara nodded, but she looked distracted. She fidgeted with her hair again. “Uh, Marilee, we have a small problem.”
“He’s vermin,” Ruby continued. “Worse than vermin. And everybody knows LaFonda Bonaire is white trash. Why, that’s not even her real name. Her real name is Betty Clump, but she paid to have it changed because she thought it would give her class. Ha! She’s still trash, and the only reason Grady fell for her is because she’d let him eat anything he wanted whenever he came into the Tick-Tock. And here you were trying to see that he ate a healthy diet and got plenty of exercise.”
“Ruby, what are you talking about?” Marilee asked, her face masked with confusion.
“LaFonda was stuffing him with pecan pie behind your back.”
Marilee’s look turned to disbelief. “Are you telling me that my husband walked out on our marriage because another woman fed him pecan pie? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Well, that’s part of it,” Clara replied. “My friend Janie Gilbert who works at the Gazette said it was almost sickening the way LaFonda carried on around him. Janie said LaFonda had been giving Grady the come-on for weeks.”
“A man can only take so much temptation, Marilee,” Ruby said. “Even a fine, upstanding minister like Grady.”
Marilee felt foolish that everybody in town had known about her husband and LaFonda long before her. “Why didn’t the two of you say something?”
“Because Grady was a man of God,” Clara said. “I thought he was way above that sort of thing.”
“Ruby’s right,” Marilee groaned. “I’ll never be able to show my face in this town again.”
Clara waved the comment aside. “Stop talking like that. You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Marilee’s in a lot of pain right now,” Ruby said, “and rightly so. You’re probably still in shock, too, honey,” she added, patting Marilee on the back. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Listen, sugar, I’ve got a pint of whiskey beneath the seat of my truck. I’ll grab it if you like. One good swig will calm your nerves.”
Clara gasped. “Why, Ruby Ledbetter, I don’t believe what I’m hearing. I would never have figured you for a drinking woman. And you a Southern Baptist of all things.”
Ruby seemed to take offense. “Don’t you go questioning my spirituality, Clara Goolesby. I may be a Baptist, but I have had my share of stress. And there’s nothing like a good shot of whiskey to ease the jitters when you don’t have time to whip your vehicle over to the side of the road and pray.”
