A Family After All

Her stomach gurgled again. Roll reminded her of cinnamon. And the steaming pile of cow crap that was her day explained why cinnamon reminded her of the unopened bottle of schnapps she’d stashed in the cabinet over the kitchen sink.

She wheeled around and marched up the porch steps, chin held so high she tripped on the last one. She stumbled forward and fell into the screen door, one arm outstretched in a vain attempt to catch herself. The mesh fabric parted from the aluminum frame with a growling zzzzzzzzip.

Oh, for Pete’s sake. She pushed herself upright and scowled down at the ruined door. This wasn’t something she could fix herself. And now Wade wasn’t around to take care of it. She’d have to call someone.

Or maybe she’d just quit screen doors, cold turkey.

Of course, cold turkey made her think of Wild Turkey, and the thought of bourbon reminded her she had a date with a bottle of schnapps.

Thankfully, she could open it all by herself.

Ten minutes later, Ivy decided that drinking alone, especially from a bottle covered in five Christmases’ worth of dust, was as pathetic as it was dissatisfying.

She needed something else to distract her. A reflexive glance at the calendar yielded the perfect solution. How could she have forgotten her monthly investment club meeting? Her fellow members of Dollars and Divas would provide the perfect diversion.

And chances were good the booze would be dust-free.

* * *

HALF AN HOUR LATER, after a hasty tuna sandwich and a conversation with Dell that saved her a return trip to the liquor cabinet, Ivy parked in the gravel lot belonging to Castle Creek Growers, a local greenhouse run by her friend Parker and Parker’s husband of less than six months, Reid Macfarland. At least, Reid would have been helping to run it if he weren’t serving his third and final tour of duty in Afghanistan. Ivy couldn’t imagine how difficult the separation must be, not only for the couple but for Parker’s daughter, Nat, who adored Reid. It hadn’t always been that way, for Nat or her mother. Reid had sought Parker out to apologize for his role in the friendly fire that had taken her husband’s life. Parker and Reid had ended up falling in love, and now Parker couldn’t wait to have her new husband home for good. She’d moved to Castle Creek a year and a half ago, and it had taken her a while to warm up to Ivy—to anyone, really—but Ivy had finally talked her into joining the local investment club, and Parker was now one of Ivy’s closest friends.

Ivy hopped out of her truck and breathed in the heady scent of damp mulch and those ruffly red blooms Parker had once told her were camellias. The early-evening gloom was thickening, and an autumn chill edged the air. Ivy made her way along the concrete path that crossed the yard, connecting the empty gravel lot to a driveway crowded with cars. Seemed she was the last to arrive.

Not that she should have been there at all. What she should have been doing was writing up a help-wanted ad, making phone calls and working up some kind of a schedule from hell for her and Dell. She’d simply have to squeeze that in sometime in the morning, between chores.

Hesitating in the warm yellow glow of the porch light, she let the muted laughter and chatter and the pumpkin-pie smell of Parker’s signature muffins soothe her.

Oh, yeah. She needed this.

She was reaching for the door when it swung open. Parker had exchanged her usual denim overalls for black pants and a sapphire-blue cowl-neck sweater. She smiled and pushed at the screen door.

“About time you got here, Farmer Jane,” the redhead teased, waving Ivy into the comforting chaos of a Dollars and Divas meeting. Ten women of varying ages and backgrounds formed the group, but they all had one crucial thing in common—they liked each other. A lot. They also liked wine, desserts, romance novels and laughing.

And talking about men.

Ivy felt better already.

Inevitably, the conversation turned to sex, which did not make her feel better, because it had been so long since she’d had any. But hoo, boy, had she learned a lot over the years.

Especially from the Catlett sisters.

When Ivy stepped into the cottage-style living room and began her hellos, it was the seventysomething Catletts she spoke with first. Hazel and June liked their makeup bright, their gossip salacious and their man candy shirtless. Hazel’s white hair was pixie short, and tonight’s shade of lipstick looked like a blueberry had got it on with a box of Christmas tinsel. June wore her silver hair in a similar style and tonight rocked a yellow sweater dress Ivy couldn’t have carried off half as well. Ditto on the turquoise eye shadow.

“Audrey has a boyfriend,” June said as she guided Ivy over to the dining room table, where Parker had set out a selection of wine and soft drinks. June was referring to Audrey Tweedy, the Catletts’ close friend and coconspirator. Audrey was a woman who believed staunchly in the power of protein. Her father had opened the feed store Seth now owned, and Seth had won himself instant popularity with most of Castle Creek’s old-timers—especially Audrey—by keeping the name Tweedy’s Feed and Seed.

Ivy helped herself to a glass of wine and took a hefty sip. She’d promised herself, no thoughts of Seth Walker tonight.

Yeah. As if she’d really manage that.

“Hazel’s furious. She thinks it’s her own main squeeze, Pete Lowry,” June said in Ivy’s ear. Her “whisper” bounced off every flat surface in the room and quieted all other conversation.

“The guy who owns the garage?” Allison Kincaid moved closer and clinked her glass against Ivy’s in greeting. Despite having been in Castle Creek the shortest of any of the women present, the petite blonde was Ivy’s closest friend. She was also co-owner of the town’s only motel, Sleep at Joe’s. Allison gazed down at Hazel, who was tucked into the corner of Parker’s pale-blue-and-cream-striped couch. “You and Pete have a thing?”

Hazel offered up a wink that failed miserably at being playful. “He really knows how to twist my gas cap, if you know what I mean.”

Allison wagged her head. “No, I don’t, and I’d consider it a personal favor if you didn’t tell me.”

Ivy joined Allison in frowning down at Hazel. “You don’t really think Audrey’s messing around with Pete, do you?”

“She’s had that Lincoln of hers in his shop five times in the past month. Five times.”

From the connected dining room came a snort. Parker looked up from the tray of hors d’oeuvres she was arranging in the center of the large oval table.

“Hazel Catlett. You do realize that car of hers is older than I am? Things are bound to give out.”

Hazel rolled her eyes as she emptied the wine bottle into her glass. “Parker Macfarland, you’re twenty years younger than me. You can’t even begin to know what you’re talking about.”

“Twenty years younger?” June scoffed. “More like forty. Better ease up on the wine, sis.”

A door banged open and shut out in the hall and twenty-four-year-old Liz Early appeared in the archway in black jeans, boots and a purple turtleneck, her curly blond hair gathered up in a thick ponytail that reached halfway down her back.

“What are we talking about?” she asked brightly.

“Getting old,” Hazel said.

“Oh.” Liz dropped into the chair opposite the couch, crossed her legs and pulled out her phone. “Should we call someone who actually knows what that’s like?”

Everyone laughed, and Ivy stretched forward from her position by the couch to offer Liz a knuckle bump.

Parker pushed a hand into the air, as if she were summoning a waiter, then pointed at Liz. “Someone give this girl a drink.”

While June and Allison converged on Liz’s chair, June with an empty glass and Allison with a wine bottle, Ivy sank down onto the couch beside Hazel.

“Have you asked Audrey if she’s seeing Pete? I think you should, Hazel. You two have been friends since...well, since forever. She wouldn’t do something like that to you.”

“And how do you know that?”

“You wouldn’t do it to her, would you?”

“I wouldn’t do it again.”

Ivy stared. Hazel shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”

June pivoted to face them and flapped a hand. “Don’t listen to her. She doesn’t really believe that, about Audrey and Pete. Besides, we all know Audrey has the hots for Snoozy.”

“We do?” Allison whipped around so fast she almost fell sideways. That was what she got for wearing those ridiculous designer heels. Which Ivy totally coveted and would have said so if she weren’t preoccupied trying to imagine the skinny, mournful-looking owner of Snoozy’s Bar paired up with the brawny Audrey Tweedy.

Allison gaped at Hazel. “Are you sure Audrey’s crushing on Snoozy? I didn’t think she was all that impressed with him or his snake.”

Laughter erupted. Allison flushed when she realized what she’d said.

“It’s true—Audrey’s very impatient when it comes to Snoozy’s snake.” Liz leaned around Allison and looked earnestly at Ivy. “I was in the diner when she tried to convince him to let her eat it.”

A moment’s shocked silence, then the shrieking began. Ivy fell back onto the couch, hooting, and Hazel pounded the armrest and almost choked, she was laughing so hard. June dropped onto the arm of Liz’s chair, giggling wildly and shaking her head, while Allison rocked back and forth and scrubbed at the tears dripping down her cheeks. Parker stood by the dining room table, both hands clapped to her mouth.

Liz’s expression alternated between embarrassment and indignation. She started to say something a couple of times but no one could hear her over the laughter. Finally, Allison took pity on her and signaled for everyone to quiet down.

“Okay, okay, let’s give Liz a break. We all know we’re talking about Snoozy’s python, which I had the misfortune of finding wedged behind the wall of my motel room.” She shuddered. “I’m still hearing things behind the walls.”

Ivy pushed off the couch and patted Allison’s shoulder. “On the plus side, you reunited a long-lost pet with her grieving owner. And now you have Joe to handle your pest control for you.”

“Yes,” Allison murmured. “Now I have Joe.” The way she said it and the sappy smile on her face made Ivy more envious than any pair of Jimmy Choo shoes could. But a happy-ever-after wasn’t in Ivy’s future, and she was fine with that. Though she wouldn’t mind a happy-for-now with Seth. Especially if that happy could occur in bed, and even more especially if they could agree on terms. Like, say, for every one of his orgasms, she got two?

He was good for it. She just knew he was good for it, damn him.

“Okay, ladies.” Parker pointed over her shoulder at the dining room table. “Refreshments are served. How about we help ourselves, then get down to business? I found a technology stock I want to tell you all about.”

Liz started to snicker as Ivy poured a glass of iced tea. “Speaking of business, I saw someone’s been at your sign again, Ivy.”

She made a face. “I know, right? But they did a good job with it. These days, funny farm is an apt description.”

“Oh, come on.” Allison settled her glass next in line for tea. “You’ve got that place running like a well-oiled machine.”

Liquid sloshed onto the lace tablecloth and Ivy hissed. She set the pitcher aside and snatched up a stack of napkins. “Dammit. Parker, I’m sorry—”

“Relax. Accidents happen. Be right back.” Parker rushed off to the kitchen.

Allison came around the table to help mop up. “You’re not yourself tonight. Want to tell me what’s wrong?”

Ivy lifted her head. Everyone was listening, expressions full of shared concern.

She sighed. “My manager quit this afternoon. Less than an hour after that, one of my farmhands walked out when I told him he wasn’t qualified to step into the position.”

Her news was greeted with a chorus of sympathetic noises. Hazel leaned over and put a hand on her arm. “Sorry to hear that, hon.”

Allison looked thoughtful as she dabbed at the tablecloth. “So you’ll need someone to help out part-time while you’re looking for replacements.”

Ivy smirked at her designer-clad friend. “Why? You interested?”

“Dear God in heaven, no. Learning to milk a cow is not on my bucket list.” Allison grinned. “See what I did there?” When no one else seemed impressed, she went back to dabbing. “How about Seth?”

Ivy set her glass down before it slipped through her fingers. “In the first place, he has two kids to look after and his own business to run. In the second...” She hesitated. Allison bumped her shoulder.

“C’mon, girl, spill it.”

Parker chuckled as she came back into the room with a handful of dishrags. “She already did.”

Liz tittered.

Ivy exhaled. “Seth and I... We’re not on the best of terms.”

Hazel pursed her blueberry lips. “When are you going to stop rejecting that gorgeous man?”

“As of today,” Ivy muttered.

Allison clapped her hands. “You’re finally going for it? For crying out loud, woman, what are you doing here?”

Ivy was shaking her head, her braid heavy between her shoulder blades. “I won’t be rejecting him, because after today he won’t be asking me out anymore.”

“What did you do?” wailed Hazel.

Allison shrugged her slim shoulders. “All that means is you have to ask him.”

“Ladies, I’m not interested in dating. Period.”

“But this is Seth. What’s the big deal about dating Seth?” June fluffed her silver hair. “Go on a few dates, do the nasty, decide if you’re in it to win it.”

It took a moment for Ivy to find her voice again. “The big deal is, he may very well realize that dating me is no deal at all. That I’m one big anticlimax, so to speak. What if he’s so disappointed he decides he never wants to see me again?”

Parker turned and lobbed the dishrags at the nearest countertop, added a mini quiche to her plate and passed the platter. “Maybe I’m just being slow, but hasn’t that already happened?”

“He didn’t say he never wanted to see her again. He told her he was cutting back on seeing her.” Liz paused, then made a face at Parker. “Dude. You’re right.” She turned a sympathetic smile on Ivy. “What are you going to do?”

“The only thing I can do.” Ivy sank into the nearest chair and pushed at her plate. “Cut my losses and start saving for a wedding present for him and Ms. DMV.”

Allison put a hand on her hip. “Is this about Evan?”

Liz frowned. “Who’s Evan?”

“You remember.” June nibbled at a cube of cheddar. “The guy Ivy was going to marry.”

“That jerk.” Liz finished off her plate with a ham biscuit and settled across from Ivy.

“Wait. I never knew you were engaged,” Parker said.

Allison poured her own tea and pulled out the chair beside Ivy. “Two years ago, and she hasn’t dated anyone since. And no—” she aimed a pointed glance at her neighbor “—casual sex isn’t dating.”

At the head of the table, Hazel grinned. “It’s one hell of a runner-up, though.”

“And of course this is about Evan.” Allison flapped her napkin and dropped it into her lap. “A guy says he loves you and can’t get a ring on your finger fast enough and all the while, he’s scheming to sell your farm to a real estate developer? That’s bound to leave a scar.”

June sprang to her feet and brushed crumbs from her sweater dress. “How about we look at Seth as an investment? Run the numbers. Do a risk analysis. What do you think, dear heart?”

“I think we have better things to do.” Ivy turned resolutely to Parker. “Tell us about that stock you mentioned.”

Parker grinned. “I’d rather do a stock study on Seth.”

“Thank you.” June cast a stern expression on Ivy. “You going to make us take a vote?”

“Fine. Whatever.” Ivy yanked her plate closer and wrenched a red grape free of its cluster. “But I’m telling you, this is a losing proposition.”

“We won’t know that until we’ve filled out the checklist.” June bent down to the shoulder bag she’d stashed under the table and pulled out a clipboard. She put on her reading glasses, picked up a pen and got down to business. “Historical earnings?”

Ivy snorted. Allison flicked Ivy’s biceps and June peered at her over the top of her glasses.

Ivy sighed. “He’s only been running the feed store for a year.”

“Insufficient data.” June scribbled on the form.

Ivy shifted in her chair. “But he is the owner.”

“Which means it’ll be easy to find out what management’s up to. Debt ratio?”

“Really? You think I know that?”

“What I want to know is—” Hazel looked up from polishing her bifocals “—what’s his growth potential?”

Liz elbowed her in the ribs. “I’m betting eight inches.”

Amid the whoops and high fives, Ivy dropped her head into her hands. Please, God, just take me now.

“How about his current yield?” someone asked.

“Ivy’s the one with the high yield.” That was Allison. “If she had her way, she’d be yielding all over the place.”

“That’s enough.” Ivy planted her palms on the table and pushed to her feet. “Thank you all for the advice. It may have been unsolicited, but it was definitely valueless. Now can we please start the meeting?”

June grinned. “I see what you did there.”

“Ivy’s right—it’s time to get down to business.” Parker opened her laptop. “Let’s start with—”

“Wait, I have one, I have one.” Liz was practically bouncing in her seat as she leaned toward Ivy. “Bite low and say hi.”

Ivy couldn’t help but laugh, Liz looked so delighted with herself.

“What does that even mean?” Hazel squinted across the table. “You want her to bite his crankshaft? I wouldn’t think that would go over so well.”

June was nodding sagely. “And do you really think that once she bites him, he’ll stick around long enough for her to say hi?”

“Oh, please, give the girl a break. It was funny.” Allison grinned. “Besides, every guy likes a little nibble now and then.”

“Don’t we all,” sighed Hazel. Immediately, Allison and Parker took Hazel to task for finding fault with Liz’s contribution in the first place. While they bickered, Ivy decided to ask Liz about her love life. It was way past time to put someone else on the spot.

She leaned across the table. “How’s everything between you and Marcus?”

“Good. It’s good.” Liz hesitated, and her shoulders collapsed. “No, that’s not true. We’ve been dating since April and I don’t know him much better than I did when we met. I mean, I know he has...issues to work through, and he’s told me some stuff, but we’ve—” her cheeks flushed and she lowered her voice “—we’ve hardly been physical at all, let alone had sex.”

Ivy wondered how much Liz knew about Marcus’s situation. Allison had come to Castle Creek to shame her ex-boyfriend Joe Gallahan into helping her save her job at an advertising firm back in Washington, DC. Joe had agreed but only if she’d help with the motel’s renovations. It hadn’t taken long for them to fall in love all over again—despite serious challenges involving a python, an ex-con out for vengeance and a fire that almost destroyed the motel.

That ex-con had been Marcus Watts. Allison had stumbled upon him after he’d broken into her room at the motel. The twenty-year-old had been living in the woods, waiting for the opportunity to burn down Sleep at Joe’s because of the horrific abuse he’d suffered while his stepfather owned the place.

Allison hadn’t confided every detail, but Ivy knew enough to be both sickened and enraged on Marcus’s behalf and to realize it could be a long time before he was ready for any kind of intimacy, emotional or physical.

She glanced around and saw that everyone else was still engaged in a good-natured argument. “Have you talked to him about it?”

Liz nodded miserably. “He gets so defensive. He’s seeing a counselor, but I have a feeling a big part of the problem is that he doesn’t think he’s good enough for me.”

“I’m sure you’re doing your best to convince him otherwise.”

“Yeah, but now I’m thinking I need to follow the same advice everyone is giving you. You know. Totally take the initiative.” Her smile was both tentative and sly. “Is that what you’re going to do?”

Ivy was saved from responding when Parker stood and tapped a knife against her wineglass. “Someone needs to call this meeting to order. Otherwise you’ll all be spending the night and anyone still here in the morning will have to earn her breakfast by helping out in the greenhouses.”

“Oh.” June raised her hand. “Speaking of greenhouses, I noticed the floodlights on the hut closest to the parking lot aren’t working.”

“Those dumb things.” Parker scowled. “There must be some kind of electrical problem, because Harris just changed those bulbs.”

“I’ll get Joe to take a look at them for you.” Allison bit her lip. “And if there’s anything else along those lines you’d like done, you might want to let him know now. He has another project coming up that’s going to keep him extrabusy.”

“Hmph.” Hazel popped a strawberry into her mouth and gazed at Allison, brown eyes twinkling. “And here he just put the finishing touches on that brand-new love nest above the motel office. What’s next, a sauna? A swimming pool?”

“A baby.” Allison aimed a sheepish glance at Ivy and pressed her palms to her stomach. “We’re going to have a baby.”

* * *

A SCALDING RUSH of acid taunted the back of Marcus’s throat as he gazed at the other employees gathered in the diner’s kitchen. This was some bad shit going down, and everybody was looking at him.

One of the waitresses, Rachel, stood beside him, lower lip quivering, and he almost reached for her hand. She had that whole everything-has-to-be-a-drama teen thing going on, but in this case she wasn’t exaggerating.

“It’ll be okay,” Marcus murmured, but how could he expect her to believe that when he didn’t believe it himself?

Rachel ignored him, and continued to stare at the diner’s owner. “You’re saying one of us is a thief.”

“I’m saying there’s money missing.” Cal ran a palm over his gray buzz cut and Marcus shifted his weight. Poor Cal looked closer to tears than Rachel.

“If it were just one instance,” Cal continued, “I’d chalk it up to a mistake. We all make ’em. But several times over the past month, the drawer’s been short.” His sober gaze traveled from face to face. No one spoke. Someone swallowed, loudly. It was Thursday night, and business was slow. As soon as their one customer had been served his maple-glazed salmon, Cal had gathered the entire evening shift in the kitchen.

Marcus, the cook. Rachel and Patricia, waitresses. And Noah, who manned the grill during the early shift but had dropped in to pick up his paycheck. All but Noah wore the diner’s uniform of black polo shirts and khakis. They took turns staring at the reddish-brown tiled floor, the empty grill that still smelled of fish and fried onions, and the stainless steel shelves lined with neat rows of plates, glasses, napkins and condiment bottles with the labels turned out.

They looked everywhere but at Cal.

“We have to figure this out and put a stop to it,” he said. “I’ll have to sell a truckload of cinnamon rolls to make up for the revenue I’ve lost.”

“I think just this past week I’ve eaten a truckload of cinnamon rolls.” Patricia patted her ample stomach, trying to lighten the moment. But Cal wasn’t smiling.

“Think about it, folks. Smaller profits mean smaller raises and fewer employee benefits.”

“Are you having this same talk with everyone?” Marcus asked quietly. There were three more waitresses on the books, plus a busboy on weekends. “Or just us?”

Cal gave him a look Marcus couldn’t interpret. “Everyone needs to hear this. The problem is happening at the cash register, but I won’t tolerate theft of any kind. I don’t care if it’s a can of tomato sauce. You have a money problem, you come to me. We’re family. We’re supposed to be here for each other.” He cleared his throat, but not before everyone heard the break in his voice. “I hate that we’re even having this conversation.”