Sweet Vidalia Brand Page 4
“Why not? It was the greatest night of my life.”
“It was the greatest sin of mine. My greatest shame.”
He closed his eyes. “I’ve never stopped thinking about it.”
“I’ve never stopped trying to forget it. And if that’s what you came to talk about, then this lunch is over before it begins.” She slapped the menu closed, laid it on the table, and made as if to rise, but he shot his hands out to cover hers, and she stopped.
“I won’t bring it up again. I promise.”
She looked into his eyes. Everything in her shivered with memory, with an old longing she’d thought had died. But it had only been lying dormant, and apparently, growing bigger all the time. And now it was awake and alive and more powerful than ever before. She banked it and, giving a nod, relaxed into her seat again. “I’m gonna hold you to that, Bobby.”
“You won’t have to. My word is my word.”
“Good to know that hasn’t changed.” She heaved a sigh. “So back on topic, what’s this...proposition you have for me?”
“Ah, that. Well now, I need your help.”
“My help? With what?” She blinked across the table at him. “Not the saloon that you’re building to put mine out of business?”
He nodded precisely twice. She shook her head side to side in time with his nod. Bridget cleared her throat. “Here are those drinks.” She set a big mug of beer in front of Bobby and a china tea cup with a pink rose on the front and gold trim around the lip in front of Vidalia. “Do you know what you want to order yet?”
“You can’t be serious,” Vidalia said. Some distant part of her thought she should address the Haggerty girl, or at least postpone this discussion until she’d left again, but the words were flying free and she couldn’t stop them. “Why would I help you with your saloon?”
“Because I helped you with yours,” he said. Then he smiled his charming smile up at Bridget. “You have anything seasonal? I’m feeling festive.”
Bridget smiled right back, though she was clearly feeling a little nervous about having arrived at the wrong moment. “The specials are all festive. Grandma Betty’s idea of festive, anyway,” she said, and she pointed to the list of daily specials inside the menu. “Reindeer Pot Roast, which as you can guess is venison based. Holiday Ham or Turkey and Trimmings. Full meals or sandwich plates, your call.”
Vidalia was trying to drag her shocked eyes off Bobby Joe, but for the life of her, she couldn’t.
Bridget said, “Take your time. I’ll come back in a few minutes,” and then she hurried away.
She had manners, that one did. Betty Jean had raised those girls right.
Vidalia was gaping, but Bobby Joe was giving her those same smitten puppy dog eyes he’d given her all those years ago.”
“You owe me, Vidalia. I helped you get the OK Corral up and running.”
“I paid you for that help.”
“I worked for next to nothing.”
She shrugged. “Hey, I didn’t name your price, you did.”
“And I named one so cheap you wouldn’t be able to say no.”
“Not my fault. You must’ve had your reasons.”
“I did. I wanted to be around you as much as I could possibly manage.”
She had no snappy comeback that time. Her words got stuck in her throat, and she sat there staring at him.
“Vidalia Brand, you knocked my socks off the first time I laid eyes on you. And I’ll tell you what, lady. You still do.”
She picked up his beer and drank it straight down. All in one draught. When she set it down again, she lowered her head and whispered, “I was a married woman, Bobby.”
“Not legally,” he said, sounding just like Maya. “But I know, I know you don’t see it that way. And that’s why I left after that night–”
“Will you keep it down?” She looked around the all but empty restaurant. “Jeeze, you think I want my greatest shame broadcast on the evening news?”
“Oh, come on Vidalia, no one cares about a one-night stand neither of us can remember.”
“My daughters would care.”
He went silent, staring deep into her eyes for a long silent moment, until she had to lower hers.
Bridget came back. Vidalia said, “We’re both having the buffet, hon.”
“Okay, sure. Um, just help yourselves when you’re ready.” She turned and walked away and Vidalia felt a little bit guilty for not being friendlier. But not nearly as guilty as she felt over what had happened all those years ago. Especially the parts she’d never told Bobby.
At least she hadn’t lied to him. Outright. She had kept a pretty damned huge secret from him though.
“You know it’s odd, how we both blacked out that night,” he said. “I mean, I was drinking way too much at the time, that much I know. Being in love with another man’s wife was a little more than I was man enough to deal with back then. But you never drank much. A little more than usual that night, but it didn’t seem like enough that you’d forget.”
“And this is coming from what? Your non-memory of anything that happened?”
“I remember a lot of it. I remember...most of it.”
She remembered all of it. Including waking up in his arms the next morning in the storage room on a bed made of drop cloths and their respective coats.
“And yet you left town the very next day. Not a note. Not a goodbye.” Not even after that long night of lovemaking, the likes of which Vidalia hadn’t seen before or since. If she didn’t burn in hell for it, then there was no justice in the world.
“What was left to say? You pretty much said it all when I woke up.”
She had. She’d been mortified. Horrified at what she had done. Her husband had been out of town “on business” for two months at that point. She’d been working with Bobby for six. Together every day. All day. Working, bickering playfully, laughing, touching sometimes, always accidentally of course. Feeling.
She’d woke up naked, still wrapped in his arms. And she’d been disgusted with herself. Even though by then she was sure her husband was cheating on her. Johnny couldn’t have gone two months without sex if he’d been in a coma. But that didn’t make it right. She didn’t know he had another wife, one he’d already been married to when he’d married her. And two kids, to boot.
So she’d got up, got dressed, and waited for Bobby to wake. And when he had, she’d said, “This was the biggest mistake of my life. I can’t see you anymore, Bobby. Not ever.”
She remembered how hurt he’d seemed and how he’d tried to apologize, saying he didn’t even remember coming into the store room, much less what had happened afterward. And she’d said she didn’t remember either. But she did. Oh, how vividly she did.
And then she’d walked out and gone home before her four little girls ever woke up. The sitter had fallen asleep on the sofa and never knew what time Vidalia had come home. No one did. No one besides her had any clue what had happened.
Bobby reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “You’re not married anymore, Vidalia.”
“God, Bobby, a whole lifetime has passed between then and now. You can’t just come back here and expect all those old feelings between us to be the same.”
“I didn’t. I didn’t expect that. Not at all. I just...” He sighed heavily. “You know why I left, Vidalia?”
She shook her head slowly. He caught her chin with his fingertip and turned it toward him. She could’ve closed her eyes, but that would’ve been cowardly, and Vidalia Brand was no coward. So she stared into his eyes and knew she’d compounded her sins by lying to him just now. All those old feelings were exactly the same, just buried under years and years of guilt and shame.
“I left because I knew that if I stayed, I was going to have you,” he said, his voice as rough as if he’d gargled with broken glass. “I wouldn’t have let up until you gave in to me, and you would have because you felt the same way I did. I know you did. But I also knew you’d never forgive
yourself if that happened. I knew it would tear you apart. Just like leaving you tore me apart. I chose to take the pain rather than give it to you. But now....”
His voice trailed off there, and lowering his head, he shook it slowly, then pushed one hand back through his hair. He let go of her hands and leaned back in his chair. “Damn, this is not the conversation I intended to have here today.”
“I should hope not.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m not here to seduce you back into my arms. I’m not.” Oddly, it sounded almost as if he was trying to convince himself more than her. “I’m just here to open The Long Branch. Opening night, I’m gonna dress as Marshall Matt Dillon. You know, the vest, the badge, the gun belt. And I need a Miss Kitty to be my hostess for the evening.”
She closed her eyes slowly. She had lied to this man for more than two decades. Okay, omitted the truth. The dishonesty shamed her straight to the roots of her hair, almost as much as that night she’d spent in his arms.
And now, to know that he’d left town to spare her having to say no to him. To spare her the guilt of eventually saying yes.
She’d sworn off drinking that night, but it didn’t change the truth of the lie she’d told. Or of the other much bigger secret she’d kept for all these years. The one he really did deserve to know.
She lowered her head to hide the tears that were springing into her eyes. “I dressed as Miss Kitty last Halloween at the Corral,” she said.
“I know. I saw a picture in the local paper. That’s what gave me the idea for the Long Branch, to tell you the truth.”
She closed her eyes, thought she was going to regret her next words, but she owed this man even more than he knew. “All right. I’ll help you.”
“You will?” He seemed both stunned and delighted. “You will, you’ll do it?”
“I’ll do it. You’re right. I owe you. I can have one of the girls handle the Corral that night. Or just close it for the evening. What night are you opening?”
“The twenty-second.”
She lifted her eyebrows. “It’s not the twenty-first, so Selene might be free.”
He frowned. “She has plans on the twenty-first?”
“Winter Solstice,” Vidalia said. “She’s into....” She gave up, waved both hands in a never mind gesture. “She’s always been different from the other girls.”
“She’s the only one I never met,” he said.
“Oh, you’ll be meeting her. And seeing the rest of them again, too. Those girls of mine are way too interested in what I’ve been doing in my private time since you blew back into town.”
“I am looking forward to it,” he said. And he cupped her hands in his, pulled them to his lips, and kissed her knuckles. “Thank you, Vidalia. I mean it. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she told him, and she didn’t try to suppress the delicious shiver caused by the touch of his lips on her skin. Again. Finally.
Chapter Four
* * *
He didn’t want to say goodbye when their lunch date ended, so he was glad when an aging woman who introduced herself as Betty Haggerty came out from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron, and smiling at Vidalia. He was introduced briefly, before the older woman tugged his date away to engage her in what looked to be an important conversation. He watched them, because he couldn’t take his eyes off his raven-haired beauty.
Vidalia was as sexy as ever. She’d come in work clothes, probably because she’d rather be shot between those pretty eyes of hers than to let him think she’d dressed up for his sake. But he kind of thought she had. Her hair was down, not bundled up behind her head like it had been at the Corral the other night. The jeans were snug and hugged her in all the right places, and watching her walk across the restaurant to the buffet had been so delicious an experience that he made sure to let her head back to the table first, so he could watch her all over again. Her hair was just as jet black as ever, springy curls falling way past her shoulders, and her eyes were just as brown.
He’d never got over her. He’d been sure from day one, she was the only woman he would ever love.
But he couldn’t have her, and that was that. And so he’d tried to move on. He’d met Judith, married her, raised a family with her, and thanked his lucky stars for the three sons she’d given him. But Vidalia had remained in his heart the entire time.
He hadn’t told the boys about...any of this. Not that he was coming here, or why. Not what had led up to the decision to buy the feed store and convert it. Even though it was all for them. Telling them now would ruin the surprise later. And he certainly hadn’t told them about his condition, which would ruin his last holiday season ever, and his plan to make it the most memorable of his life.
He didn’t want to think about that now, anyway. He wanted to throw himself into The Long Branch, because that was what he loved doing best. And he wanted to throw himself into spending time with Vidalia, because, though he’d never been a saint, he believed that he deserved as much pleasure as he could muster from what was left of his life. And whether he deserved it or not, which was, he supposed, not up to him to judge, he was damn well going to take it.
He was a little hurt that Vidalia didn’t seem to be harboring the same endless adoration for him that he had for her. But he was also glad she didn’t return his feelings. It wouldn’t be fair to encourage that and would end up breaking her heart later on. But since she was so immune to his charms, he figured it was safe for him to spend time with her.
It would be just like getting the Corral up and running together. Just like old times.
After a few minutes, her conversation with Betty Haggerty, who seemed a bit too old to be running an entire restaurant, wound down. The older woman, he noticed, looked tired, and that made him take another look around the place, and wonder whether it was just empty because it was midday, or whether it was in trouble. And as he examined the place with new eyes, he noticed things. The fresh coat of paint that was long overdue, the crack in one of the out of the way windows, trying to hide behind curtains that were starting to lose their vibrance and fray a bit at the edges.
Haggerty House, he thought, might just be in trouble.
But Vidalia didn’t mention a word about that as they went their separate ways. No, she wouldn’t, would she? Vidalia Brand was a woman who could keep a confidence. Trustworthy. He’d always trusted her. She’d rather be shot than lie, or betray someone she cared about.
In the parking lot, he walked her to her truck, then stood there like a sixteen year old, wondering if he should go in for a goodbye kiss.
She shot the thought down when she leaned up and planted one on his cheek. Not at all what he’d had in mind. “I’ll see you soon, Bobby Joe. And I’ll dig out my Miss Kitty costume before I do.”
“You don’t have to. I got you a brand new one.” At auction, for a small fortune, because it had been one of several actually worn by Amanda Blake in the TV series. She’d been five six, a good four inches taller than Vidalia. But a full foot plus shorter than her co-star, James Arness. He’d landed an original Matt Dillon costume worn by the six-foot seven actor. He was only six two. But he’d had both costumes altered, and the height difference between him and Vidalia would look very close to that between Marshall Dillon and his own Miss Kitty. A foot.
One foot was, he thought, the perfect height difference, as he looked down at her, and she looked up at him. Her eyelids lowered as the color rose in those perfect apple cheeks of hers, and she said, “I’d better go. Gotta open soon.”
“Okay. Thanks for this, Vidalia. And for helping out with the Long Branch.”
“De nada,” she said, and then crushed his heart by turning and getting into her truck. She did flash him a bright smile, though, as she drove away. And yet he thought something was bothering her. There were shadows behind her eyes.
Later that afternoon, Bobby stood in his all but finished saloon, looking around the place and planning their grand entrance. He might
have Vidalia come down the curving staircase in the red and gold Miss Kitty getup with her curls all bundled up high on her head and a fake beauty mark on her cheek. He’d be waiting at the bottom in his Matt Dillon getup. That was where the boys came in to play their parts in the skit he had planned for opening night. Of course he had yet to tell them, and the skit was only in his head right now, but he would be doing that later today.
Absently, he opened a cardboard box of the glossy flyers that had been delivered while he’d been out. They’d been waiting by the front door, under the tarp, when he’d come back. They had come out beautifully
Citizens of Big Falls, celebrate the Holidays in the Old West. Come to the Long Branch for our opening night, December 23rd. Have a great meal, see a show, absolutely free of charge. Merry Christmas, Neighbors.
Your friend,
Bobby Joe McIntyre
He smiled when he eyed the line drawings of him as Matt Dillon and Vidalia as Miss Kitty. Feeling confident she would say yes, he’d hired an artist who’d used a photo of Vidalia in her Miss Kitty getup. Bobby had found it on one of her daughters’ Facebook pages. It had come out great. Not as great as she was in person, of course, but great, all the same.
As he stood there looking at the flyers, he heard the front door swing slowly open and looked up to see his oldest son, Jason, across the room. It never failed to amaze him, looking at his sons. Grown, strapping young men, as different from each other as they were from him. Jason was six four, and his upper body showed his penchant for workouts. He was the silent one, the brooder who never showed his feelings. But he was wearing his heart on his sleeve just then, looking at his father in a way that left no doubt in Bobby’s mind that Jason knew. He held his son’s eyes and tried to think of anything else that would’ve caused those tears he saw swimming in them, but there wasn’t anything else.
Jason looked away, tried to hide his emotions, swept the place with his gaze, gave a nod of approval. “So this is the secret project no one wanted to tell me about.”