Sweet Vidalia Brand (5 page)

“Fine, fit, and cooking up a storm. She’s gonna be so tickled when I tell her you’re here.” Bridget put the menus down on the table as Bobby Joe hurried around her to pull out Vidalia’s chair. She sat down, and then he sat across from her.

“I’ll bring you back some drinks. What would you like?” Bridget asked.

“Beer. Whatever you have on tap.”

“Just got a new keg from a local microbrewery that’s been getting rave reviews from the customers,” Bridget said.

“Okie-Gold?” Vidalia asked.

Bridget winked at her. “That’s the one. Should I make it two?”

Not after what happened the last time she and Bobby Joe drank together, she thought. “Uh, no. Tea. A nice cup of hot tea will do me just fine.”

“All right. I’ll be back.” Bridget turned and hurried away.

“You know just about everybody, don’t you Vidalia?” Bobby asked.

She shrugged. “You live in the same town for as many years as I have, you get to know people.”

“I lived in the same town for more than a decade, and didn’t even know my next door neighbors.”

“Well that’s a shame,” she said softly. “They might have been nice folks. And I know they missed out by not knowing you.”

He lowered his head, but she saw the dimple dig into his cheek when he smiled. He had the most beautiful dimples. “I wish I was worthy of that praise, Vidalia,” he muttered.

Age hadn’t done him any harm, she thought, watching his face while he wasn’t watching hers. She wished she could say the same for herself.

Her hair was still just as dark and curly and long as ever, but there was a gray strand here and there. She had laugh lines around her eyes, but she would never regret those. Her daughters had put those there, every last one of them, and she wouldn’t trade the years raising her girls for a smooth-skinned face now. Her figure wasn’t stick thin anymore. Never had been, but the curves were curvier than they used to be—she was well aware of that, she thought, looking down at her strong, denim clad thighs.

She glanced sideways at Bobby and found his eyes on her. They were sliding down her body, as far as the table between them would allow, even though she wore ordinary jeans and an unbuttoned long-sleeved western shirt over a snug fitting tank, which was her usual attire. She also wore boots. She had to head to the corral after this to open up for the evening, so she hadn’t dressed up. Besides, she didn’t want him to think she was trying to impress him.

Bobby said, “I’ve got a proposition for you, Vidalia.”

She lifted her gaze from the menu she’d been pretending to peruse. “I’ll just bet you do, Bobby Joe.”

He smiled and waggled his eyebrows. “I never forgot, you know. That one night–”

Her menu fell to the table as if pushed from her hands by the breath that rushed out of her lungs. “That’s not what you said at the time.”

He waved a dismissive hand. “I mean the early part of it. When we danced all alone at the Corral and wound up making out like teenagers.” He smiled wistfully. “The only part I forgot is the part after we drank a little more.”

“A lot more,” she corrected, as she felt the blood rush to her face and lowered her head. Her relief that his memory of that night hadn’t returned was so huge she almost floated out of the chair. “I don’t want to talk about that night, though.”

“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.

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.