A Husband of Her Own (Dundee, Idaho #2)(42)
Author: Brenda Novak

“That’s the spirit.” She selected the key to her Firebird. “I thought you were supposed to be painting the garage for Granny Hatfield.”

“I painted earlier. I’m taking the night off. I was hoping you’d want to spend some of the money you won at the anniversary party on a few drinks at the Honky Tonk.”

Rebecca would’ve been excited about the money she’d won last night—especially Josh’s money—except that her father’s reaction had soured the whole experience. “I’ll give you twenty bucks, but I think I’m going home to bed. I’m pretty tired.”

“Come on. It’s only seven o’clock. If we have a drink together, you can tell me what your family said when you told them the wedding’s been postponed. I couldn’t hear very well from the living room.”

Rebecca arched a brow at him. “You were listening?”

“I was trying to. Your father made it easy. Your mother did not.”

“You could’ve asked me what happened while we were on our way home,” she pointed out. “We rode together, remember?”

“I could tell it hadn’t gone well when Greta stormed past me before you came out. Besides, you wouldn’t have wanted to hear what I had to say.”

Rebecca wasn’t sure she was ready to hear what anyone had to say. Not yet. “Word will have spread to the Honky Tonk about the wedding,” she said, considering her options. “I think I’ll give it another week before I face everyone there.”

“No one cares about the postponement, babe.”

That might be, but she still ran the risk of running into Josh, and she wasn’t about to take that chance. She might have beaten him at pool last night, but it was only a game. She felt foolish for having cared so much. The money was nice, of course, but one or two games of pool were never going to change anything. Her father still had a way of making her feel inferior to Josh—to almost everyone.

“No, thanks. I’m going home,” she said.

“That’s boring,” he complained.

“For you, maybe.”

He gave her an endearing smile. “Does anyone else matter?”

She shook her head and started around the building to the small gravel lot where she’d parked her car.

“Okay, I’ve got it,” he called after her. “Let’s stop by the diner and grab a bite to eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” she replied.

“Let’s go for a ride on my bike.”

“No, thanks.”

“So you’re not in the mood to go out? Let’s rent a movie.”

There was no getting rid of him, Rebecca decided, chuckling. “Okay,” she said. “Follow me to the store.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

AS SOON AS THEY REACHED Granny Hatfield’s, Rebecca told Booker to get the popcorn ready and headed upstairs to change into something more comfortable. Tossing her coat on the bed, she set her purse on her desk next to a slip of paper that turned out to be a telephone message.

Buddy needs to talk to you, Hatty had written. It’s sort of an emergency.

What now? “I’ll be down in a minute,” she called to Booker. Then she quickly pulled her shirt over her head, slipped into some sweats and picked up the phone.

Buddy answered on the second ring.

“I got your message,” she said. “What’s the emergency? What’s wrong?”

A significant moment of silence followed this question. “I don’t know for sure,” he finally responded.

“You leave me a message that there’s an emergency, and you don’t know what it is?”

“It’s not that kind of emergency. I just wanted to catch you before…before you told your family the new date for our wedding.” He said the last part of the sentence fast, as though he wanted to fit it all in one breath.

A sickening feeling invaded Rebecca’s stomach and started radiating outward. “Why? What do you mean?”

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and…well, I’m not sure we know each other well enough for marriage.”

“You’re not?”

“No.”

“Why is that?”

“I…I talked to a friend of yours today, and he got me thinking.”

Rebecca grew still. He? “What friend?”

“I’d rather not say.”

“Why?”

“He told me some things that have me pretty concerned.”

“Like what?”

“Like some of the stuff you’ve done. To be honest, I was more than a little surprised. What kind of girl nearly sets the high school on fire?”

“I can explain that,” she said. “I was only trying to burn the mascot into the field for homecoming, and it got a little out of con—”

“Or dyes someone’s hair blue,” he said, cutting her off.

“Some people want their hair blue,” she replied.

“Did Mrs. Reese?”

He had her there. “No, but I can explain that, too. See, she told her son that his father would fire him from his job at the bank if he kept dating me. Byron and I were both twenty-five at the time, way too old for her to be interfering and—”

“But why wouldn’t she want her son to date you in the first place?”

Rebecca could hear Booker calling her from the bottom of the stairs, but she was too panicked to answer. Who had paraded her sins in front of Buddy? Her father?

“That’s all in the past,” she said, grappling for something to say that might minimize the damage. “Everyone makes mistakes once in a while. Haven’t you ever done anything you regret?”

“I’ve never set a football field on fire.”

The creaking of the stairs told her Booker was coming up, but she didn’t even look at him when he knocked briefly and opened the door. She had to convince Buddy that she wasn’t as bad as he now believed, or it would be over for good.

“Who is it?” Booker asked.

She ignored him, focusing on her racing thoughts. “Like…I don’t know. Like shaving someone’s head while he was sleeping. Or putting bugs in someone’s locker.”

“Is it Buddy?” Booker asked.

Rebecca nodded, her cheeks feeling warm, her heart pounding.

“I’ve never shaved anyone’s head,” Buddy said. “I’ve never even wanted to.”

“Oh, so you’ve always been a saint, right? I’m the only one with a temper here.”