Audrey followed her mother into the kitchen to help, smirking under her skin that Ethan would be left alone in the family room with Adelaide.
The kitchen smelled more glorious than Audrey remembered, with the battling scents of sherry roasted turkey, cinnamon coffee, and stewing apple cider.
Apple cider!
“Wow! I’ll have the cider instead.”
Myrna started to fill the coffee pot with water. “Yeah, Sally’s been craving apples lately.”
“Sally?” Audrey paused from reaching for a mug in the cabinet. “Adam and Sally are here?”
“Yes, they’re back in the den with your father. Do you mind fillin’ a mug for her, too?”
Audrey unconsciously reached in to the cabinet for another mug and filled both to the brim. The sweet waft of cider numbed her shock—slightly. But she really shouldn’t be surprised. Thanksgiving meant family gatherings. It made sense for her brother and his wife to be here. Deep down, it also made sense that he hadn’t come to welcome her yet, either.
Lost in thought, Audrey hadn’t realized her mother stopped preparing coffee and stared at her from across the kitchen. “How are you?” Her mother’s question hung in the air with more concern and love than Audrey had felt in years.
“I’m great,” she replied, political smile intact despite the yearning to let it go. “Campaign is running superbly, thanks to Miranda. Hopefully Ethan’s article will clinch it for me.”
“I saw your interview yesterday.”
“And?”
Myrna sighed and pushed the button on the coffee maker. “You’ve done really well for yourself. Despite everythin’.”
Not exactly what I was looking for.
“I’m making a difference. That’s what this election is for.”
“As long as it’s what you want, I’m happy for you.”
“The day Dad feels the same way will be the day Texas outlaws guns.”
“Oh, hush, girl. Of course your father wants you to be happy. He just has a hard time showin’ it.”
Audrey leaned against the counter and crossed her arms. “It’s been a decade, Mom. How long can someone hold a grudge?”
“You’re in East Texas, darlin’. How long can the sun burn?”
The inside of her cheek was too soft to bite as hard as she wanted, but she tried anyway. Anything to keep from screaming. Rolling her eyes wouldn’t cut it either. “Will Dad or Adam bite my head off if I try to deliver Sally’s cider?”
“Probably not, but bring the tray just in case.”
Carrying a tray of three ciders wouldn’t protect her from their tempers, but Audrey complied. As she walked to the family room to drop off Ethan’s, disappointment crept down her spinal cord. The miracle of having her father and brother welcome her with open arms didn’t happen. Adelaide’s youthful smile, the same she was currently giving Ethan while chatting and watching the end of the parade, was expected. Ignorance truly was bliss.
When Audrey entered the room, Ethan glanced over and practically started drooling. “Hot apple cider? I’m moving in!”
“As much as I’m sure Addy would appreciate another judge for her pageant costumes and Mom a guinea pig for her pies, you’re not invited.” Audrey handed him a mug, careful not to spill the next-to-boiling liquid on his Levi’s.
“Since when do you have a say on who is and is not invited in this house?”
The entire room dropped thirty degrees instantly. The biting tone came from across the room, and Audrey didn’t need to look up to see who spoke the bitter words. Adam’s smooth and direct voice hadn’t changed. As strange as it was to admit, Audrey missed hearing his voice. At least back when it wasn’t filled with cynicism and disappointment.
Just as his face was covered with it. That, and much deeper wrinkles and a shadow in his sapphire eyes she didn’t remember seeing before. Two tours in active war zones had a way of extinguishing the light in people’s eyes. That and unending resentment toward a sister that wanted nothing but love between them.
“Hi, Adam.” She smiled back. “I like your hair that way.” Ten years and she’d never seen his crew cut in person. He must’ve been a vision in his Army uniform, with his bulky shoulders and slim waist. No wonder Sally fell for him. The Marlboro man had nothing on her brother. The Marlboro man couldn’t scowl like Adam, either.
“Adam, don’t.” Adelaide whined from the couch, holding one of her pageant photo albums in her lap. No doubt bombarding Ethan with her glamour shots. “She never comes home. Leave her alone.”
He leaned against the doorjamb, arms across his massive chest and biceps bulging through the long-sleeved navy shirt. The angel of death couldn’t instill fear with one stare the way Adam could. Good thing Audrey and Adelaide were used to it by now.
“She doesn’t come home for a reason. And don’t go using your campaign talkin’ just to butter me up. That crap won’t work in this house.”
Just the kind of homecoming Audrey hoped for with a bloodthirsty journalist at her side. A quick glance showed Ethan continued to drool, only this time it wasn’t over the apple cider in his hands. What would his fingers do if that were a pen and paper in his lap?
Chapter Seven
Ethan had been skiing a few times before in the frigid hills of the Colorado Rockies. But that cold couldn’t beat the one filling this room in the middle of East Texas, and they’d hardly seen a flake of snow. Audrey wasn’t kidding. He definitely didn’t want to piss off this bear. Never mind that he was as huge as a minotaur, but if he was also a deputy, he was certainly packing heat.
Damn, this article would make him a legend. The dirt materializing in front of him proved he had a gift for being in the right place at the wrong time. He could see the headline. “The Peacemaker sparks war in her childhood home.” He’d save his introduction until after this developing scandal played out. Journalism 101: Never interrupt the story, just watch and record.
“Dad said you brought home a boyfriend,” Adam’s tirade continued. “Couldn’t believe my ears.”
“If he
was
a boyfriend, why would that be so hard to believe?”
Where the hell did that come from? Not that Ethan expected a fake relationship out of this. She was clearly using him as extra ammo for the argument with her brooding brother. But that didn’t sound like The Peacemaker, retorting with false info. But a relationship with Audrey Allen, even only a few nights together, would be well worth it. Good Lord, he bet she’d be a legend in the sack. Ethan set his mug on the coffee table, just in case things exploded.
“
Your
history? I’d expect you to keep boys as far from this town as possible.”
“Boys? I’m not a teenager anymore, Adam. Meet Ethan Tanner, journalist for the
Dallas Morning Journal
.”
Adam’s eyes almost popped from his sockets. “Journalist? You
have
lost your mind.”
“Ethan is writing an article on Audrey as a candidate.” Adelaide closed her photo album and plastered on her innocent smile. An attempt to lighten Adam’s mood she and Audrey had probably used a million times.
This was his cue. Or maybe not. Either way, it was time to join the fun. Ethan stood and stuck out his hand, fully expecting Adam to ignore it.
“Nice to meet you. Audrey tells me you’re an Army man. Must have been ugly in Afghanistan.”
Adam shifted his glare to Ethan’s face, then his hand.
Take the bait, man
. He could feel the women in the room hold their breaths. This was either going to be a lot of fun or really painful.
“Adam Houston Biddinger,” Myrna entered the room carrying a tray full of cookies and wearing the perfect disciplinarian frown every mother mastered. “If you don’t shake the hand of a guest in your mother’s house, I will pull your father’s belt right off his waist and tenderize your hiney to Christmas, deputy’s badge be damned.”
Ethan kept his eyes on Adam’s combative stare. Only a southern woman could check a grown man into submission with one sentence. Finally, Adam gave in and shook his hand.
“
Was
an Army man. And Afghanistan was a pony ride in hell.”
“I have a buddy who took photographs of the 34
th
Infantry over there. Did a nice spread for them in the
Times
.”
“I’m sure they did. Those boys were puppets for the NATO Security Force. The
Times
would have lit them up like heroes.”
An extremely pregnant woman waddled up behind Adam and wrapped her arms around his chest. She flipped her long, golden ponytail over her shoulder and kissed Adam’s shoulder. This had to be Sally.
“You’re all heroes in my book,” her soft and airy voice cooed.
The only sign of affection from Adam was a light touch of his hand on hers.
“My wife, Sally. Hon, meet Ethan Tanner. He’s a writer.” The last part dripped from his tongue like acid.
Sally stepped out from behind her mammoth husband and shook Ethan’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Could this woman’s accent be any thicker? Amazing how the long vowels made her seem sweeter than a glass of port. What he wouldn’t give for a sip of the dessert drink he hadn’t tasted in forever.
Finally Sally’s gaze moved across the room to Audrey. Unlike her husband and father in-law, she gave Audrey a hug with a charming smile. “Your momma said you may be comin’. How was the drive?”
“Long.” Audrey threw Ethan a glance. “But good.” She handed Sally one of the apple ciders from the tray. “How’s my future nephew feeling today?”
The instinctual grab of the belly. All women must have that silly urge to place their hands on a pregnant tummy, even if that tummy belonged to a stranger. Ethan didn’t get it. Everyone said pregnant women looked beautiful and glowing, but he thought they looked more uncomfortable than a nun in a titty-bar. Had to be, with a huge basketball stuck up your front only to be shoved out a tiny hole when the timer dinged. God had a barbaric sense of humor.
“He’s got three weeks left.” Sally held her belly with one hand and sipped her cider with the other. “Can’t come soon enough, since he kicks like a bull in the Stockyards.”
“Have you picked a name yet?”
“Bryson Paul.” Adelaide answered for her, beaming. “Paul is for Daddy.”
“I’m so sorry I missed the wedding,” Audrey murmured. “I would’ve come had I known about it.” Audrey threw a glance at Adam.
“Well, it was kinda…sudden,” Sally replied, red-cheeked, as she glanced at her husband hesitantly.
“But it was beautiful,” Adelaide interrupted. “I got to be maid of honor and wore my purple pageant dress from last year.”
“So Ethan, what do you write?” Sally asked with a simple smile and waddled over to a free chair. Adam’s assistance seemed unconscious and fluid.
“I’m a journalist for the
Dallas Morning Journal
. I’m writing a series on both Audrey and Wyatt Williams for the election.” Ethan sat back on the couch. Adelaide seemed to be inching closer to his side with every movement. Not that he minded. Just as long as she knew she wasn’t legal.
As soon as the first sentence escaped his mouth, Sally’s smile weakened. What was it with this family and journalists? Sally looked at Audrey, caution all over her face.
“Well, don’t you give Audrey here any trouble. You’re bound to regret it.”
“Yeah, we all know what Audrey does to boyfriends,” Adam muttered under his breath.
Perfectly timed, Audrey glared at Adam just as Sally smacked his wrist.
“What exactly do I need to be prepared for? That is, if I ever became her boyfriend.” Ethan kept the joking tone in his voice. A sore spot for the family needed to be turned into something more lighthearted if he was going to get anything out of this guy.
But he didn’t say anything. No one said anything. They all stared at Audrey, clearly biting their tongues. The sarcasm didn’t work. Not the first time it hadn’t worked for Ethan, but he’d figure out their weak points soon enough. This room wasn’t pretty, despite the charming country décor.
Audrey continued to stare back at her brother, but the glare was now more of a sad frown. Quietly, Audrey set the tray on the table, took her mug out of the room, a stole a cookie from her mother’s tray as she disappeared down the hall.
“You’re such a prick sometimes, Adam.” Adelaide threw a magazine at him. It ricocheted off his arm with the weight of a wadded napkin.
“You shut your mouth with what you know nothin’ about,” Adam shot back at her.
“Enough, you two,” Myrna bit out and handed the tray to Ethan. “Addy, watch your language. That’s no way to behave in front of a guest. Ethan, I’m so sorry. Excuse me for a minute.” She followed Audrey’s trail.
“Well, I’m clearly missing something important.” Ethan grabbed a cookie from the tray. These folks needed to talk, and he had a whole two days to accomplish it. One way or another. “But I assume she still has your votes for senator.”
Adam scoffed. “Not from anyone in this town.” And then trudged out of the room.
Bingo. Ethan’s story was right here and he ate another cookie to hide the drooling.
Chapter Eight
Mom was right. They would never let go of their anger. But that’s exactly why she needed to keep doing what she planned. As long as she kept breathing through the weekend and stayed out of the mud, she could get back home and focus on the Crisis Center. And this election.
The oatmeal cookie crumbled down her shirt as she took a bite on her trek to her father’s den.
Sugar-free, yuck!
Must be Mom’s way of reinforcing healthy foods despite Dad’s rebellion and fight with high cholesterol. Oh well. Cookies weren’t his problem as much as the daily case of beer. Mom had learned a long time ago to pick the fights she had a chance at winning. One of the few lessons Audrey valued.
The pregame announcers blared through the room as her dad nursed a third beer in his chocolate-colored La-Z-Boy. The lowered blinds darkened the bear’s den with only a few rays of light bouncing off the wood-paneled walls. Just like Dad, this room hadn’t changed at all. Which meant the answer to her first question would be the same as always.
“How’s work treatin’ you these days, Dad?”
Without taking his eyes off the television, he rubbed his chin and set down his can. “New rig this month, with a new crew. Ironing out the wrinkles.”