Chapter Nine

CHAPTER NINE

From the Kitchen of Verbena Fullbright

If you've done forgot to buy buttermilk, use sour milk instead. Just mix one tablespoon of vinegar with one cup of milk, let it sit for five minutes, and you've got yourself a buttermilk substitution. Never be afraid to make changes. Sometimes unfamiliar paths can lead you to the same destination.

Addie

"Can you please slow down?" I pleaded as the back end of Tessa Jane's car fishtailed when it hit a patch of black ice when we rounded a corner.

A warning beeped from the dashboard, then silenced when the wheels found traction again. The triangular hazards signal glowed as we drove in the dead-center of the road late Saturday morning, hogging both lanes because there wasn't another car in sight and the edges of the roadway were obscured by snow.

Tessa Jane gripped the steering wheel like she was hanging on for dear life. She flashed me an annoyed glance. "I'm only going ten miles per hour."

It was the wintry weather that was keeping people off the roads—and had put us on it. Willa Jo had called this morning to tell Bean that the balding tires on her van were no match for her slick driveway. Which meant someone else had to deliver Petal Pottinger's wedding cake to the hotel ballroom.

That someone turned out to be Tessa Jane and me.

"Maybe try eight? Or five?" I suggested. "Just slower ."

A bundle of anxiety, I sat in the passenger seat, my fingertips practically indenting the large cardboard box I held on my lap. In the box was Petal's beautiful three-tier wedding cake. Delivering cakes was always nerve-racking business. Delivering cakes on icy roads in a snowstorm? Terrifying. Absolutely, unequivocally petrifying.

In my head, I was cussing up my own kind of storm while trying not to have a panic attack. I took even breaths, searching for something to focus on other than the buzz of my nerves. I started counting the snowflakes that landed on the windshield, adding them up before they melted or were swiped away by the wipers.

"If I go any slower," Tessa Jane said, her words short, stiff, restrained , "we're not going to get there in time for the wedding."

Because of her tone, I didn't point out that I could probably walk to the hotel and still make it on time. The wedding was at eleven. It was currently nine thirty. And the hotel was only three more miles away.

This was a foreign creature, this irritated Tessa Jane. She'd been on edge since returning from her grandfather's party last night and driving in this weather hadn't helped her bad mood any.

The car rolled over a bump, and I clenched my teeth as I tried to absorb the motion and keep the box still. A perfect cake had gone into that box, and I aimed to have a perfect cake come out.

Other than this delivery, the bakery was closed for the day on account of the weather, and I couldn't wait to be done with this errand and get back to the farmhouse. Where it was warm and safe and dry.

Snow fell steadily. I could only see ten to fifteen feet in front of the car and couldn't see the fields that lined the side of the road at all.

I searched for any bright sides to this situation and surprisingly found a few.

One, quality time spent with Tessa Jane, even if we both woke up on the cranky side of bed.

Two, at least the wedding party was staying the weekend at the hotel, so there would be a ceremony taking place today. No chance of a last-minute cancelation. Well, if the pastor managed to make it there.

Three, the snow was beautiful, in an eerie kind of way.

I took a breath, and felt a twinge of pity for Dare, of all people. The pastor marrying him should've been Pastor Fife, the elderly man who'd taken him in as a teenager. But he and his wife had been gone a few years now. They'd been a lovely couple, and I could only imagine how happy they'd be for Dare today.

A sight happier than me, that was for sure. But only because I worried for Petal's well-being, in light of the Buckleys' violent history. Something I knew about all too well.

Tessa Jane let out a humorless laugh as the wipers whisked rapidly. "If rain on your wedding day is good luck, what's snow mean?"

"I'm not sure."

She pushed a button on her steering wheel and when a tone sounded, she said loudly, clearly, "What does it mean if it snows on your wedding day?"

A computerized voice, connected through the Bluetooth system in her car, answered, "Snow on a wedding day is a sign of fertility and prosperity."

The thought of there being more Buckleys filled me with a sense of dread. Then I felt a stab of guilt, of remorse, of shame , and quickly revised my thinking to male Buckleys. There were three boys total, all with the same daddy and different mamas: Bryce, Ace, and Dare, with twenty-some years between them. Only Dare, the youngest, had managed to stay out of trouble. Public trouble at least. A lot of the damage Buckley men inflicted happened behind closed doors.

My nerves snapped and crackled, buzzing louder than ever. Ree's secret taunted me, wanting me to spill the beans.

Could Tessa Jane keep a secret? Because if I told her, then the anxiety would go away. It always did, once the words were out of my mouth, even though revealing secrets came with consequences.

But no, I couldn't. The truth would hurt so many if it ever leaked out.

So I clamped my lips together.

Tessa Jane pushed the button again and said, "What does it mean when it's sunny on a wedding day?"

The voice answered. "Sunshine on a wedding day means good luck."

Tessa Jane snorted derisively, then said sweetly, "Thank you."

It said, "You're welcome."

"Do you always say thank you to the voice?" I asked.

"Of course." Her eyebrows snapped downward. "Don't you?"

I was grateful to see the old, familiar Miss Manners side of her hadn't vanished completely, even though it was now served with a side of judgmental attitude. I smiled. "I will now."

The snow lightened a bit and Tessa Jane adjusted the wipers as she crept around a corner, looking every which way twice. "My wedding day was the prettiest sunny day you've ever seen. So much for good luck."

I gripped the box tighter, took a big deep breath, and said, "I'm real sorry about what happened."

"Me, too," she said quietly.

My throat ached with all the things I wanted to say. Of all the apologies I needed to make for treating her so terribly all these years. Just as I opened my mouth, Sam Smith starting singing from my cell phone.

I put my chin on top of the box for extra support and reached for the phone, which I'd placed in the cupholder earlier. I immediately silenced the call. It was as if somehow, wherever she was currently in this world, my mama had known that I was fixin' to make nice with Tessa Jane and wanted to stop me.

"Interesting ringtone," Tessa Jane said. "How's your mama doing these days?"

I practically snapped my neck to look at her. "How'd you know it was her?"

She lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. "I'd like to say it was a lucky guess, considering the song choice, but I saw ‘Cecelia' on the screen when you lifted the phone to decline the call."

If she was curious why I'd used my mother's name on my contact list instead of Mama , she didn't say. Though considering how much Bean shared our lives with each other, she likely knew all about my troubled relationship with my mother. I was suddenly grateful our aunt had been the bridge between us all these years, because I did not want to explain.

" My mama was at the party last night," she said. "I was surprised as all get out to see her open the door at my granddaddy's house."

"That is surprising." It was well known that Henrietta didn't like coming back home, especially after Constance Jane had passed away. I put my phone back in the cupholder and resumed my death grip on the cake box. "Is she in town only for the party?"

"More for me than the party. She didn't want me to have to deal with my granddaddy alone."

Before I could ask anything else, she gasped. A black shape in the road caught my eye just as she slammed on the brakes. "Hold on!" she cried as she swerved.

The car slid in what felt like a slow-motion circle—and kept going right off the side of the road and onto the snow-covered berm. I pressed the cake box to my chest and held it up, off my lap, all the while squeezing my eyes shut and praying for all I was worth. Finally, the car came to a thudding stop, complete with a dull crunch, against a post-and-rail fence.

Before I could even think to gather up my scattered wits, she shut off the car, unclicked her seatbelt, and flung open the door, leaving it ajar as she darted into the road.

I took a moment to collect myself. I was shaking but okay. The cake box— thanks be —was unharmed. I wanted to get out, to see what Tessa Jane was doing, but the whole right side of the car butted up against the fence. And there was no way to climb over her seat with the cake box in hand. Not without help.

All was unnervingly silent. The earth strangely quiet. The air felt hollow yet dense. It was a hush like I'd never experienced. It was beautiful but made me uneasy.

"Tessa Jane!" I called out into the storm. Snowflakes drifted into the car, melted on her leather seat.

"Be right there!" she shouted, and I heaved a sigh of relief.

A minute later, she came staggering back, her arms full of black Labrador. She thrust the dog into the car, then pulled the lever that released the trunk. "I thought for sure I was going to hit her." Then she glanced at me, taking stock. "Are you okay?"

"Not a scratch."

"Thank goodness. The cake?"

"I think it's fine. I didn't feel it tip."

Tessa Jane let out a breath of relief. "I'm going to grab a blanket from the trunk." She quickly closed the door.

The dog's tail wagged as she licked my face, then sniffed the box. She didn't look too worse for the wear, other than she was soaking wet and shivering.

A second later, the trunk slammed and Tessa Jane was back in the car, a blanket in hand. She pushed her seat all the way back, then patted her lap. The dog hopped onto it and Tessa Jane wrapped the blanket around her, rubbing the fabric against damp fur. Her face clouded over. "What's a dog doing loose in this storm?"

"Maybe she's an escape artist like Hambone. Someone's probably worried sick."

"It's a good thing we came across her, then." Her face lit. "A bright side."

I smiled. "I suppose so."

"I'm shaking like a leaf. How long does it take adrenaline to wear off?"

"Not sure." I was still shaking, too.

The dog licked Tessa Jane's chin, then gave herself a good shake and hopped into the back seat, her tail wagging. "We'll have to take her with us for now. I'll text a picture to Aunt Bean so she can get a phone chain started."

It was a good plan. We'd know who the dog belonged to before we got back home. I looked at the fence post that was inches away from my window. "What are the chances we can drive away from this?"

Tessa Jane readjusted her seat, turned the key, and started the car. "I'm hopeful. I took a peek at your side of the car when I got the blanket. The doors are dented but that shouldn't be a problem." She put the car in drive. "Here goes."

The car lurched forward, making a sickening noise as it scraped the fence. Then it stayed right where it was, the wheels spinning. Tessa Jane bit her lip, shifted into D2, and tried again. Chunks of mud and snow flew around the car as the wheels spun. She tried putting it into reverse but didn't gain any ground. Finally, she blew out a breath and put it into park. "I'm starting to hate snow."

"Don't let Aunt Bean hear you say that." I loosened my grip on the cake box. Walking to the hotel wasn't really an option, despite what I'd been thinking earlier. Not with the wind and snow and heavy cake. "I'll call Holden's Garage for a tow."

I reached for my phone but froze when I caught sight of the starlings flying by, glittering in the snowfall. They flew upward, disappearing into vast whiteness just as a horn beeped. A big ruby-red pickup truck rolled to a stop on the road next to us, its hazards flashing. The dog barked as a door slammed. A second later, a man came jogging toward us, his hand on his ball cap as he kept his head down against the wind and snow.

I recognized the hat. And the shape of the man. My nerves started buzzing, a million angry bees.

Of all the people in all the world, it had to be Sawyer Gray who'd stopped to help us.

Twenty minutes later, a rosy-cheeked Petal greeted us in the hotel ballroom in a long white satin robe, white marabou high-heeled slippers, full makeup, and Velcro rollers in her hair.

"Lordy, lordy! What a morning y'all had!" she exclaimed. "The cake table is over yonder, Sawyer."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, keeping the box level as he started for the table draped in white and blush linens. I had to admit, I was glad he was the one doing the carrying. Holding that box had felt a little like holding a ticking time bomb.

Petal rushed forward, toward Tessa Jane and me, giving us quick kisses on our cheeks. "It's been an age ! It's good to see you both. Especially together. Who'd have thought ?"

In my head, I was singing every lullaby I knew, trying to keep myself from talking. I was walking dangerous ground with Sawyer around. With Sawyer and Dare Buckley Fife around. Mercy . But I knew I had to say something, so I said, "It's good to see you too, Petal. Happy wedding day."

"You look pretty as picture," Tessa Jane said, smiling tightly. "Rollers and all."

I had to imagine being here among all this wedding frippery had to be hard for Tessa Jane. It had only been a few months since her wedding was canceled.

Petal laughed and patted her hair. "If only you could see me in my dress. I'd knock your socks off."

Petal had never lacked for confidence.

"Is there a trick to getting the cake out?" Sawyer called over to us, looking a bit like a fish out of water among all the frilly finery.

Tessa Jane said, "I'll go."

In between the silent lullabies, I was cursing the fates. First, for the snowstorm. Then the accident. Then Sawyer just happening to come across us on his way to pick up Luna in Mentone—after needing to take a detour due to a blocked road. He believed it had been happenstance. I knew better. The starlings had guided him to Tessa Jane and me.

He'd told us he heard the only tow truck in town was already backlogged with calls and kindly insisted on carrying us to the hotel. Cake, dog, and all. And he'd made a phone call along the way.

Petal wrung her hands, and her gaze darted around. "Where's she at?"

It took me a second to realize she meant the dog. Sawyer had recognized the black lab straight off. She was Pepper—Dare Fife's dog. Sawyer hadn't known Dare's phone number, but he knew Perry Pottinger's—Petal's daddy, who was one of the Starlight Electricals' customers—and had called him up to let him know what had happened. Perry had obviously passed the news to Petal, who'd met us here in the ballroom when we arrived. I'd been surprised to see her, thinking for sure she'd have sent Dare to fetch the dog. Or someone . Petal was a delegator.

"She's in the truck. We don't have a leash."

Petal looked over her shoulder, toward the ballroom doors. She tightened the sash on her robe. "Could y'all do me a favor?"

I wasn't sure why it seemed like a loaded question, heavy and dangerous. "What kind of favor?"

"Could you possibly take Pepper home with you?" A noise came from the hallway, and she flinched, then winced and said, "Pretty please, Addie?"

She was suddenly a ball of nervous, worried energy. I wasn't sure what was going on, but something was. "For how long?"

Once again she looked toward the doors. She was making me anxious, which was saying something, because I was already about to snap clean in half.

"I reckon a week or two?"

My eyes widened. I'd been thinking a couple of hours. Just until the ceremony was over. Tomorrow, at the latest.

"I know, I know," she said, "it's a lot, but you'd be doing me a big favor. The biggest. Consider it a wedding gift!"

A gift for a wedding to which I hadn't been invited, for which I'd risked my life delivering the cake. Classic Petal. She'd always been a touch selfish.

I threw a look at Tessa Jane. She was taking pictures of the cake with her phone. Sawyer, I suddenly noticed, was looking at me. I swallowed hard and forced myself to meet Petal's blue gaze.

"And could you keep it real quiet like?" she asked, as if I'd already agreed. "I'll collect her when me and Dare get back from our honeymoon. We're going to the Bahamas tomorrow afternoon if our flights aren't canceled. So help me if those flights are canceled."

My brain was having trouble keeping up. "You must've already made plans for someone to keep Pepper. Who was watching her while you've been here?"

She went back to wringing her hands. "The dog sitter we hired fell through. Please , Addie? Dare, well, he'll be real up—"

"Sorry to interrupt," Tessa Jane said, stepping up to us, Sawyer right behind her. She motioned toward the cake table. "The cake is set up. Do you want to take a look, Petal?"

Sawyer held the empty cake box. "I'll go put this in the kitchen and check with the front desk to see if they have a rope I can use as a leash to bring Pepper in."

He'd always been this way. He'd see a problem and tackle it. Just dive in headlong. I'd always been more go with the flow.

"No!" Petal cried. "I mean, you don't have to do that. Pepper's going to be staying with Addie for a little while. Ain't so, Addie?"

All of them looked at me.

My stomach churned. What had Petal been about to say? That Dare would be upset? Was that why she was so nervous? Was he a hitter, like his brothers? His father? The thought made me queasy, and I took deep breaths to ease the nausea.

"It's so," I finally said.

Tessa Jane's eyebrows snapped downward, and in her eyes, I saw worry clear as day.

Petal clasped her hands under her chin in a praying gesture. "And if y'all could keep it quiet, I'd appreciate it."

I could feel Sawyer's questioning gaze, heating me from the inside out.

"Now, y'all should probably go." Petal ushered us toward the door we'd come in—the service door that led into the hotel's kitchen.

"But the cake…" Tessa Jane said.

Petal threw a glance over her shoulder. "It's perfect. Thank you." She all but shoved us through the door. "Bye, now! Drive safe, y'hear?"

"That was strange, right?" Tessa Jane said as we made our way toward the loading zone after dropping the box in the kitchen so Petal and Dare could use it to tote home the top tier of the cake or any leftovers.

"Really strange," Sawyer said as he opened the heavy outer door for us.

While we were inside, the snow had turned to sleet. Soon it would be rain. By morning, all traces of snow would likely be gone. I wasn't sure why, after all the trouble it had caused, it made me sad that it wasn't sticking around.

"Hey!" Someone shouted from next to Sawyer's truck.

That someone was Dare Fife and he looked none too pleased as we approached. Fisted hands were tucked under his arms. His jaw jutted. Thick, dark eyebrows were drawn low. Steam practically rose from his head.

My heart twisted simply looking at him, at the hard life that radiated from every pore. A scar trailed along his jawline. His nose had been broken at least once, maybe more. His blue eyes were full of confusion. His thick, dark wavy hair had a widow's peak—a trait all the brothers shared—which was damp now from the wintry mix.

He was handsome, I'd give him that. The good looks of Buckley men had blinded many a woman to their faults. Made them weak in the knees. And the brain.

"He's just misunderstood," Ree had said of Ace Buckley when we'd been in high school.

I'd tried to tell her I didn't see much good in him at all, but she wouldn't listen.

"One look in those dreamy blue eyes of his tells me what kind of guy he is," she said. "Give him a chance, Addie."

Turned out, he'd been the kind who'd break her wrist after a month of dating.

I was suddenly queasy from painful memories as I looked over at Sawyer. How could he not see it? The resemblance? How could he not see that his daughter, his curly dark-haired, blue-eyed, widow-peaked daughter, wasn't his at all?

I pushed my hand against my mouth to keep Ree's secret in and felt tears sting my eyes.

Dare kicked some snow, stepped toward us, and said, "What're y'all doing with my dog?"