The Last Bride (DiCarlo Brides #6) (27 page)

Natalie stared at him as if she didn’t believe what he was saying. “But, it’s our
home
. Why don’t you want to save it?”

Gage rubbed his forehead. He’d known it would come down to this, had been well aware of the state of his mom’s finances before her injury. It wasn’t Natalie’s fault that she was just learning about it now. His mom had always petted and protected her, keeping her from knowing the truth. But she was well past the age of needing to be protected. “All of my money is tied up in the business, Natalie. I’m tapped out after I paid for the repairs this summer. And then there’s the money my friends loaned me to pay your ransom.” He kind of mumbled this part, not wanting her to think that he regretted anything to help her or that he held a grudge.

Her eyes narrowed on him. “What do you mean
loaned you
? You have the money. You always say you don’t but I know you do.”

This was an old discussion—she never believed him, so why would she now? “No, Natalie.” When she stood, looking ready to do battle, he took her wrist, then released her as if burned when pain filled her face. “Sorry. Sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He paused to take a breath. “Look. I don’t know where you get the idea that I’m made of money, but I’m not. I had a decent season, but repairs have eaten into the profits. I had to borrow almost every penny of the money that I put up for your ransom. It’s going to take
years
for me to pay that back. My credit is stretched as much as the bank will allow with this place. And I have my own business troubles to worry about. I couldn’t possibly qualify for a loan for Mom’s house, even if I wanted to. Which I don’t.”

“Why not? You’d put this place—this business that eats up your whole life, that keeps you at its beck and call around the clock and gives nothing back—you’d put it ahead of our home?” She covered her face with her hands. “We can’t sell it. Daddy loved that house. Mother loved it too. It’s where I grew up. It’s
home
.” Tears filled her eyes.

Gage’s heart broke for her and his throat clogged, making his voice a little rough when he spoke again. “We don’t have to do anything right away. This has been a lot for you to deal with, more than anyone should be faced with, but we will have to put it on the market, Natalie. We’ll be able to pay off the debts, and you’ll have a nice chunk left over to buy a really terrific place somewhere else. Something that’s all yours so you can decorate any way you want. You know how you always hated the dining table.” He tried to chuckle, but talking about it just made everything too real.

A tear trickled onto her cheek and she left it there as she stared at him. “You didn’t really love Mom or Daddy. I knew you hated Daddy, but I thought you loved Mom. Why else would you put up with her? But you didn’t love her, did you? You hated every minute of it. You can’t wait to get rid of the house. To walk away and be done with it.” She stepped back toward the door, her face crumpling. “Don’t bother coming to the viewing or funeral, then. I’ll handle it all alone, if you despised them so much.” She turned away and ran out of the room without looking at him, sobbing.

Gage slumped back in his chair, feeling chaffed, exhausted and wishing that scene could have been put off. Maybe it should have been. Was he pushing her too fast? It had only been a few days since her return to normal life—as if anything could ever be truly normal again.

He decided to put all thoughts of the estate out of his mind for now. Next week would be soon enough to convince her they really had no other option.

Jonquil had come to the viewing Sunday night, had watched as Gage and his sister avoided each other, circling and talking to others and existing in the same room, but not sharing their grief. She wondered what had happened. They had been much more supportive the last time she’d seen them together. Which, granted, had been a few days, but he hadn’t mentioned anything about a fight when she was at his place for dinner the previous night.

She kept her mouth shut on her observation and busied herself with making sure people signed the registry and that there were plenty of tissues on hand. She felt like she belonged at Gage’s side, but knew he wasn’t at the same place in their relationship as she was yet. Besides, he had Jeremy and Vince with him. It wasn’t like he was alone.

“How is everyone holding up?” Cami joined Jonquil from behind, looping their arms together.

“About like you’d expect. The traumatized sister is in tears most of the time, most of the older women who were acquaintances come through dabbing at their eyes, worried about messing up their perfect makeup and offering air kisses and social hugs. And then you have the rest. People who really care. Like Vince’s family.”

Jonquil knew them pretty well by now—or at least she could easily pick them out in a crowd. The whole crew of them had only gotten together for a few occasions—Cami’s birthday, the wedding, special big family events. These events tended to be noisy and verbose and more than a little chaotic, which always made Jonquil feel right at home.

“Etta was sorry she couldn’t make it tonight. She said she’d be here in the morning, though.” Cami looked sideway at Jonquil. “So how about you? How are you holding up?”

“I barely met the lady. Don’t worry about me.”

“I wasn’t worried about you grieving for her. Have you slept at all in the past week? You look worn out.”

Jonquil chuckled a little. “Yeah. I’ve slept.” She looked at Cami’s knowing expression. “At home, in my room, all by myself. Give me a break, seriously. Gage and I are just…” But she really didn’t know anymore. “Well, not that, anyway.”

“The course of true love.”

“Never did run straight.” Jonquil finished. “Not that other kinds of love are super simple, either.”

“Amen, sister.”

The visitors stopped coming, and the ones left to chat slowly drifted away. Eventually the mortician returned to the room. “It looks like everyone has gone now. Is there anything else I can do for you tonight?”

“No, thank you. We appreciate everything so much.” Natalie took his hand, accepting the comforting pats.

“That’s what we’re here for, miss. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” She sniffed again and left the room, as subdued as she had been all evening.

“We’ll see you in the morning,” Gage said, shaking his hand as well. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Take care.”

Jonquil joined Gage, Vince and Cami, and Jeremy and Delphi, the only ones who stayed behind.

“Hungry?” Vince asked as they walked out into the June night air.

“I could eat.” Gage looked a little distracted.

Jonquil slid her hand into his. “We could go to the hotel, get a private dining room away from the bustle.”

“That would be nice. I could use a little quiet.”

“You want us to leave you alone?” Jeremy asked, not sounding at all offended.

“I can be alone with you guys.” Gage smiled a little.

“Isn’t he sweet?” Delphi asked. “He just makes you want to snuggle right up to him, doesn’t he?” She looked at Jonquil.

“Yeah, most of the time.” Jonquil squeezed Gage’s hand.

His lips twitched a little, but he looked wiped.

“Seriously, Gage, you want us to take off?” Cami asked. “Or just the girls can leave so you can have guy-time?”

“No, I’d like to be with all of you. It’s good to have family around.” He looked at Cami and smiled. “I guess I have to accept that you ladies are going to be part of that.”

“True enough.” Cami slid her hand into Vince’s, though she was still looking at Gage. “If you change your mind and want us to disappear, we can do that. We won’t be offended.”

“Says you,” Delphi said. “I will be offended. Very, very offended. But I’ll get over it.”

“If I buy you chocolate, you mean?” he asked.

“Right. Lots of it. Someone’s baby sister has been eating my Häagen Dazs.”

Jonquil felt guilty. “Sorry, I tried to replace it but they didn’t have your favorite flavor. I’ll try again tomorrow.”

“I’ll add it to your bill,” Delphi said.

Jonquil smiled as they came to Gage’s car. She could see the strain around Gage’s eyes already starting to relax. He helped her into her side and then came around and joined her.

“So, you don’t get enough time at the hotel, you need to add dinner to it too?” he asked.

“I can’t get enough of Rosemary’s cooking.”

He pulled his stick shift onto the road, slid up to third and then threaded their fingers together on the bench seat between them. “Thanks for being here tonight.”

“No problem. I was glad I could. I felt kind of useless, actually.”

“Knowing you were here made it… a little less miserable.”

“Good.” She turned to look at him. The sun had set but it wasn’t full dark yet. His brown eyes were in shadow, his angular jaw set. “Is everything okay with Natalie? Things seemed a little tense between you two.”

“I had a chat with her about the finances yesterday. She was upset when she realized we would have to sell our parents’ house. Give her a while to adjust to the idea. She’ll come around eventually.”

“I’m sure she will.” Jonquil wondered if he’d much rather not talk about it.

Gage parked a moment later in front of the hotel restaurant. He put the car in park, turned off the ignition, and turned, pulling Jonquil into his arms. “Hold on a minute, okay?” His lips covered hers, a gentle caress, giving and taking, a silent thank you that had her bones turning to liquid. She pulled him closer as the rest of the world melted away.

The kiss went on, and then a knocking sound broke her concentration. She tipped her head and looked over Gage’s shoulder to find Cami standing at the driver’s window, staring at them and tapping her watch.

Jonquil found herself laughing as she pulled away from Gage. Yeah, maybe they should do something about food now. “Come on.”

He wiped his mouth, cleaning up most of the lipstick she’d left behind and she reached over and used her thumb to rub away the last streak below his lip. “I must be smudged too,” she said.

“A little.” He grinned.

While he came around to her door, Jonquil used a mirror to dab away a smudge with a tissue from her purse and reapply her lipstick. Gage helped her from the car and they entered, hand in hand, to find the others already being led back to a private room.

It was well past dinner time so the restaurant only had a few diners and the waiters looked a little worn, but not as harried as they probably would have earlier. For the first time, Jonquil really appreciated the dim lights, the soft music and click of fork on dinnerware. It was a calming atmosphere after the stress of the evening.

“Thank you, Marla,” Jonquil said when they were all seated and the hostess had taken their drink orders.

Marla smiled. “You’re welcome.”

“So,” Jeremy said when the quiet had stretched for several seconds. “How about them Nuggets.”

Delphi shot him a long-suffering look, but didn’t complain about the sports talk. She and Cami sat next to each other and talked business while Jonquil joined the guys in the sports discussion.

It was comfortable and easy, a nice digression from earlier events, and Jonquil smiled as she saw Gage’s shoulders relax and his smile grow less strained. She was grateful for these men and her sisters.

Remembering the chilly way Natalie had treated Gage, Jonquil really hoped they managed to stay civil the next day. The last thing they needed was a fight at the funeral.

Jonquil wondered if hearses would always make her think of going to her father’s funeral and of not being recognized as his daughter there. She was almost surprised he hadn’t had all of his daughters listed in the obituary—he wasted no time in exposing them as his offspring as soon as the funeral was over and the will had been read.

She tried not to think about that. She never liked to think about it, and the middle of someone else’s funeral was definitely not the time.

Gage stood at the podium, speaking about his mom’s life and Jonquil could see the grief in his eyes, the way he held himself taut in front of the audience. She wished there were a way to make things easier for him. Most of her sisters and their men sat on the row with her, right behind the few relatives who had made the trek to Juniper Ridge. Vince and Jeremy sat at the end, pall bearers, if only because of their connection to Gage. They had been around, checking in, dragging him to lunch and helping with funeral plans, the support system Gage really needed—far more than he needed her.