Last Chance Beauty Queen (Last Chance #3)(39)
Author: Hope Ramsay

“You blacked out?” Rocky asked.

He shook his head. “No, but my memories are all kind of twisted. I sure don’t remember tearing up any flowers. I would never do a thing like that. I admire Lillian’s glads, and those flowers deserved better.”

“Should we be taking you to Doc Cooper? You didn’t have dizziness or trouble with your eyesight, did you?” Stone asked, his voice suddenly quite urgent.

“Not exactly,” Daddy said.

“That’s it, I’m taking you to see Doc Cooper,” Stone said.

Daddy gave Stone a big-eyed stare. “Son, you don’t think I’m coming down with Alzheimer’s, do you?”

No one in the Rhodes family got much sleep that night. Rocky and Stone took Daddy to Doc Cooper’s, where Momma met them. And then, on the doc’s recommendation, Daddy was admitted to the hospital in Orangeburg for a battery of tests and evaluations.

Tulane, Rocky’s youngest brother, drove over from his home in Florence and stayed with Momma and Clay at the hospital and made arrangements to get Daddy the best lawyer money could buy. Stone and Rocky came home, where Rocky fell into her bed and proceeded to cry her eyes out.

She was an unmitigated fool for losing her heart to Hugh deBracy. She needed to grow up, accept her fate, pack her bags, and head for Washington. And she never, ever wanted to hear another word about Miriam Randall and her matrimonial forecasts. She was swearing off men and love and relationships.

But before she did all that, she had to stop the town council from trying to condemn Daddy’s land.

The next morning, everyone seemed to have a place to be and something productive to do. Stone dropped Haley at Miriam’s and Lizzy at camp and went to work. Jane covered at the Cut ’n Curl because Momma was in Orangeburg with Daddy.

And Rocky, her eyes still swollen, her heart still dinged and battered, her reputation in tatters, hauled herself off to the doughnut shop for a sugar fix. Maybe a cruller would help her figure out this mess.

She’d just taken a delicious sugary bite when her cell phone rang. She checked the caller ID.

“Hey, Rachel,” she said as she pressed the talk button.

“Rocky, are you okay? Honest to God, the gossip is running rampant this morning. Is your daddy really in Orangeburg in the hospital? Was he really arrested? And I know everyone is saying you’re behind the scheme to condemn his land and bulldoze the golf course, but I don’t believe that one for a minute.”

Rocky groaned. “Yes, Daddy is in Orangeburg. He had a blackout, and Doc Cooper is worried about him. And yes, Lillian Bray, in addition to having him arrested for assault, is trying to get the town council to condemn his land. And no, I had nothing to do with that idea.”

“Was that Lord Woolham’s idea?”

Rocky squeezed her eyes shut. She wanted to believe what Hugh had said last night. But a little part of her doubted him. He hadn’t done a thing, really, to defend the accusations Stone had thrown in his direction. And besides, he’d given her that line last night about caring for Last Chance and its people. He’d talked about the lower classes and how he was their friend.

Yeah, right. She was a complete sucker.

“I don’t know if Hugh is responsible,” Rocky said, her voice sounding miserable.

“Oh, crap. Honey, a whole lot of people saw you with him last night. And you were not behaving in a professional way.”

“I know. I let the fantasy carry me away.”

“Aw, honey, I’m sorry. But hey, he wasn’t the one for you anyway. We both knew that.”

Caroline ground her teeth together. She was getting really tired of everyone telling her that Hugh was not the one for her. Because last night the two of them together had felt so right. Like it was meant to be.

Maybe that was only lust. She could live without lust, right? She clutched the advice that Sharon had given her like a lifeline. She could live without Hugh deBracy. But she couldn’t live with herself if she let Lillian Bray condemn Golfing for God.

She decided to change the subject. She needed to move on. “How’d it go with Bubba?” she asked.

Silence beat for a moment followed by a long, contented sigh.

“That good?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m going to the country music concert down at the fairgrounds with him tonight. I can’t wait until his mouth heals.”

“Well, that sounds real nice, Rachel,” Rocky said as a pang of jealously hit her in the gut. Why couldn’t she be sighing and looking forward to a date with Hugh?

Just then an unexpected burst of noise came through the cell phone. It sounded like people hollering at one another. “Uh, Rache, what’s going on?”

“Holy cow, Hettie’s here at work. She just walked right into Jimmy’s office, and she’s screaming at him. And he’s screaming right back at—” Rachel broke off the conversation, and Rocky heard several rather colorful cuss words being shouted in the background.

“Rachel?”

The noise continued for a moment, followed by what sounded like slamming doors. Rachel came back on the line, her voice suddenly urgent and worried. “Hettie just slapped Jimmy’s face and told him she wasn’t going to bail him out anymore. She said he needed to fix things here at the plant. And she said that if he continued to support the effort to take away your daddy’s land, she would divorce him without batting an eye.”

Rocky swallowed down a sticky sweet bite of cruller. The sugar wrapped itself around her mouth and made its way right to her brain, where it kick-started her thought processes.

She wondered idly if Dash and Hettie would ever get together again. Because it sure did look like the Queen Bee was about to get a divorce.

And just like that, all the pieces of the impossible puzzle she’d been working on for the last several days suddenly fit together in the perfect solution.

Why the hell hadn’t she seen it before?

Haley Rhodes sat in the swing on Miz Miriam’s porch. Granny had dropped her off here early this morning for breakfast on account of the fact that everyone in the family was in a really, really bad mood, and everyone had someplace important to go today, except Haley and her angel.

Granny, Granddaddy, Uncle Clay, and Uncle Tulane were off in Orangeburg, where Granddaddy was in the hospital. Aunt Jane was working at the Cut ’n Curl. Daddy was at work.

And no one was talking about Aunt Rocky. Everyone seemed to be kind of mad at her for something Haley didn’t really understand. She had a feeling everyone thought Aunt Rocky was responsible for getting Granddaddy into trouble.

But it wasn’t Aunt Rocky who tore up Miz Bray’s flowers.

Haley stared at the Sorrowful Angel, who was sitting on the porch railing. The angel looked kind of pitiful today.

“You shouldn’t have tore up Miz Bray’s garden like that,” Haley said. Haley hadn’t told anyone that it was the angel who messed up Miz Bray’s flowers. She really wanted to tell people, but nobody would believe her. They all thought Granddaddy had done it, and for some reason, they thought Aunt Rocky had put him up to it or something. It was confusing.

“I wish you would go back to Heaven,” she told the angel.

The angel nodded and wiped a tear away.

“I hate you. Everyone’s mad at Granddaddy on account of you.”

The angel hung her head.

Haley’s eyes filled up and pretty soon she was bawling as hard as the angel. She drew her knees up and rested her head on them. Meanwhile, the Angel came to sit beside her and put her arm around Haley’s shoulders.

The angel was cold. But having her there was a comfort just the same. Without the angel, Haley would be all alone. And that thought made her cry a little harder. What would happen if the angel really did find a way back to Heaven?

She cried until she couldn’t cry anymore.

Sometime later, a strange voice said, “I say, is that a ghost?”

Haley opened her eyes to find a little gray-haired lady standing on Miz Miriam’s porch. She wore a pair of bright red eyeglasses and a purple dress. The lady sat down in one of Miz Miriam’s rocking chairs and fanned her red face.

“Crikey, it’s hot.” She smiled. “I’m Petal deBracy, and who are you two?”

Haley blinked. “You can see the angel?”

Petal turned and looked really hard at the angel. You could tell when someone was faking it. This lady wasn’t a faker.

“I don’t think she’s an angel, love,” Petal said. “More like a spirit of one who’s departed, in my opinion.”

Haley wasn’t sure what the lady meant, but it was sure interesting to find someone who could actually see the angel. “Hi, I’m Haley.”

The lady put out her hand, and Haley shook it. Petal had warm, sweaty hands. “And you.” She tilted her head toward the angel.

The angel didn’t say a word, which was not too unusual.

“Not a big talker, then?”

“Nope. She just gets people into trouble. And she cries a lot. But she’s my friend.”

Petal nodded. “Yes, I can see that. You’ve been crying as well. Spirits can be quite helpful at times, but then again when they get to haunting, they are more nuisance than help, I’ve found. The trick is to figure out what unfinished business they are on about. If you can help them finish up their business, then they are easily gotten rid of.”

“Really?”

“Oh, absolutely. There are dozens of stories about how one goes about helping a spirit to move on. I could tell them to you. But first, what seems to be her problem?”

Haley took a deep breath and started to talk. It was such a relief to find a grown-up who took what she had to say about the Sorrowful Angel seriously.

Hugh’s mobile phone pulled him from his fitful sleep. He cracked an eye and read the time on the clock radio beside the cheap and lumpy bed. It was almost noon. His head hurt.

After Rocky had left him last night, he’d taken a long walk, right into a rather seedy roadhouse across the street from the Magnolia Inn.

His single beer turned into more than one, and before he knew it, he’d befriended a group of locals and got pulled into a game of eight-ball snooker. Luckily the tavern was within walking distance of his room at the Inn because he’d gotten himself pissing drunk.

It seemed the appropriate thing to do, seeing as his fantasy woman had left in a huff, and he had no earthly clue how to win her back.

He reached for his mobile phone and checked the caller ID.

“Petunia,” he said as he pressed the talk button. He tried to sound bright and chipper, but he failed. “Is there a problem at home, love?”

“Is there a problem?” The timber of Petunia’s voice reminded him of the times when he’d disappointed his aunt. Disappointing Petunia was far worse than disappointing Granddad. Granddad was always disappointed. But disappointing Petunia was a rare thing and always made him feel very low indeed.

“Have I done something wrong?” he asked.

Silence beat at him for several long moments before she spoke again. “Everything is fine at home. But not here in South Carolina. I’ve just had the most amazing story from Mrs. Harry Randall. My word, Hugh, this is a very interesting village you’ve found for your factory. Petal quite approves of it.”