Sweet Vidalia Brand

SWEET VIDALIA BRAND

Copyright © 2014 by Maggie Shayne

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author.

All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

Vidalia Brand’s guilty secret walked in through the batwing doors of the OK Corral and just stood there—tall and lean and more dangerously handsome than he’d been before.

Vidalia was behind the long, gleaming bar, leaning over it to re-tape the draping pine garland that had come loose from the corner, when his dark silhouette appeared. It was almost like she knew it was him just from the way his shadow fell ahead of the street lights behind him. Even before she looked up, a chill ran the length of her spine. Or maybe that was a tingle. And then she straightened up and looked at him. The twinkling holiday lights that decked the saloon fell on his whiskered face, and the end of the pine garland she’d been holding dropped from her hand to hang limply again.

The familiar noise of her beloved saloon–clinking glasses, chinking ice, murmuring conversation—seemed to fall silent as he met her eyes and just stared at her. Vidalia blushed as if she was that young twenty something he’d known a thousand years ago. And she couldn’t take her eyes from his, even if she tried. They were still just as blue—that deep, dark midnight blue that could turn electric with emotion.

If not for Randy Travis’s version of
Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree
still coming from the jukebox, you could’ve heard a pin drop. And she realized every patron she had was looking from her to the stranger and back again. Only he was no stranger. Not to her, he wasn’t.

“Miz Brand? You all right?”

She couldn’t quite convince her eyes to look at Henry, her come-lately short-order cook, but she did manage to answer him. “Would you stick that garland back up for me, Henry? I can’t get it to stay.” As she said it, she pulled her apron off, balled it up and shoved it under the bar. Then she walked out from behind it, wondering how she looked, if her hair was wild or her makeup smeared. It didn’t matter. She was a working woman, after all. And he was nothing but a brush with disaster from the distant past. He was the man who’d almost ensured her an eternity in Hell. Maybe had.

Before she knew it, she was standing in front of him, having crossed the barroom beneath green and silver garland and strategically placed mistletoe, past dozens of customers who were also friends and neighbors—and busybodies to boot. Maybe some of them spoke to her as she walked by. Maybe she even muttered a response. Damned if she knew.

He was still the same. So tall that she felt diminutive when she stood close to him. He still wore that deliberately rugged, three days growth of whiskers on his face. There was a little gray in it now. Hadn’t been before. If anything, it made him seem even sexier.

How could she still feel the same irresistible attraction to him after all these years? Was that even possible? She thought she was long since over this sinfully sexy drifter.

“Hello, Vidalia. It’s been a long time.” He took off his Stetson, held it by its brim, faked a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. His voice was so deep and rich that it felt like he was whispering the words against the skin of her spine, for the shivers that wriggled up and down it.

She decided to test her voice, and tried to make it come out firm and casual, not whispery soft with longing and remembered bliss. “Hello Bobby. What the hell are you doing here?”

His eyes widened a little, then he smiled and this time it seemed a little more genuine. “You still cut straight through the bull, don’t you Vidalia? You haven’t changed a bit, except to get prettier.”

“And you still cut straight
to
the bull. You haven’t changed either.”

He held up both hands as if in surrender. “I’m in Big Falls on business. I had to stop by and say hello.”

“Well, now you have.” A thousand questions sprang to mind, questions she fought hard not to ask. Like, what sort of business could he possibly have here in the small town of Big Falls, Oklahoma? He’d gone from being a handy man back when she’d known him to a billionaire businessman. He’d made a fortune buying up failing saloons, turning them into successful tourist traps and then selling them at a profit. But there were no failing saloons in Big Falls. There were a couple of dive bars, and there was the OK Corral. “So hello, Bobby Joe. And Goodbye.”

His face fell, those heavy dark brows bending a little in the center. God, he was even handsome when he frowned. “Why so hostile, Vidalia? It’s been–”

“I know
exactly
how long it’s been.” She bit her lip and sent a quick glance around her to see a lot of interested eyes still turned in their direction. Lowering her voice, she brushed past him, through the batwing doors and outside. He came too, and she saw him push the outer door closed behind him. Good. They should be closed.

It was a cool night in Big Falls. Late December. Almost Christmas. They might even get a snowflake or two this year. Nothing like the year of the blizzard, but maybe.... Snow at Christmas was something she prayed for every year, but those prayers were rarely answered. Well, they were, but the answer was usually no.

She hugged her arms and watched her breath emerge in puffs of steam as she walked along the front of the building, away from the welcoming holiday lights, past the wreath-decked windows to a shadowy corner. The stars were twinkling from a wide, clear sky. He came up behind her, and she made herself face him. “I don’t mean to be hostile. You were...you and me, we were a mistake Bobby. A mistake that could’ve cost me dearly.”

“I think the only mistake we made back then was denying what we both wanted.”

She shot him her patented glare. “I was a married woman.”

“You only thought you were married. You didn’t know he was a bigamist who’d married another woman before you. You were all alone, trying to start up a business and raise four girls by yourself. Working yourself into the ground while he was out spending time with his other family. If I’d known that then, I’d have never left.”

She let him rant. John deserved it, and worse. But when Bobby finished cursing her late husband, she looked at him very calmly and said, “It wouldn’t have made a difference if you’d known. Or even if I’d known. I said vows in front of God in a church full of witnesses. Just because he didn’t keep his, that didn’t free me from mine. When I make a promise, I keep it.”

He lowered his head. “I know. I know that about you.”

She sighed, unsure what the point was of dragging all this up now. “What are you doing back here, Bobby?”

He heaved a heavy sigh. “Like I said, business. I couldn’t be here and not come by. Just to see you. Just to say...I never forgot.”

He was looking into her eyes. His were just as deep and expressive as she remembered. They’d stared into hers on the dance floor of this very saloon. Only it had been empty, the chairs all tipped up on top of the tables, the lights down low. They’d kept on dancing long after the last song on the jukebox had stopped playing. And then he’d kissed her, and then....

She looked at his lips, just as thick and soft as before, and had to close her eyes to block the memory out.

His voice was hoarse when he spoke again. Almost as if he, too, had been remembering that night so long ago. “Have dinner with me, Vidalia? Just to catch up. I promise I won’t bring up the past if you don’t want me to.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Bobby.”

His disappointment showed in his eyes, just like every emotion always did, and it made her feel mean. “Why not? You’re not a married woman anymore. You’ve got no vows to keep.”

She lowered her head so he wouldn’t see how tempted she was to say yes. Tempted. That was the word, wasn’t it? He had been her biggest temptation. Her test, maybe. A test she’d failed miserably. She wasn’t so sure she’d be any more successful this time, no matter how much older and wiser and stronger she was.

“I really can’t, Bobby,” she said. “But it was nice to see you. Good luck with your business, whatever it is.”

She walked past him, back to the saloon’s big door, hoping he wouldn’t follow and make a scene. Or more of a scene than he’d already caused, because she had no doubt the tongues were wagging. By tomorrow morning, the Big Falls grapevine would resemble a burning bush. And there wasn’t a thing she could do about it.

She went through the door, and for some perverse reason, left it open behind her as she pushed on through the batwings. Then she paused just inside the saloon. The Christmas music was still going, glasses were still clinking, and people had resumed their conversations. She wanted to turn around, to see if he’d followed, or if he was leaving, but she stiffened her spine and walked right back to the bar, smiling and chatting with customers on the way. She felt his eyes on her from behind, but only briefly. And then she heard the sound of a large motor, probably a pickup truck. Probably his.

Closing her eyes, stiffening her spine, she told herself she’d done the right thing. The hard thing, yes, but the right thing.

This time.