A Path Less Traveled (3 page)

Andy frowned when
she approached. “What did I do this time?”

Trish arched an
eyebrow. “Guilty conscience?”

“Not at all, but
by the look on your face I’d say you’re looking for someone to kill. Just
wanted to make sure it wasn’t me.”

Before she could
answer, Coot spoke, his thumbs hooked beneath his bright-orange suspenders.
“Don’t worry. Her bark’s worse than her bite.” He bellowed the words, then
wheezed his way into a hearty round of laughter, as if his words were A)
original, and B) funny. Trish bit back a snarky retort and silently checked C)
none of the above.

“Actually, we
have a favor to ask.” Steve explained the situation.

A good-natured
grin emerged on Andy’s face. “You know I’ll be glad to help. You have the tux
here?”

“Yes.” Trish
grabbed his arm and herded him and Steve to the hallway, almost certain she’d
logged a million miles in one day’s time. “It’s in the music suite, also known
as the groom’s room.”

Once in the choir
room, Trish moved to the first level of chairs, grabbed the plastic-encased
tuxedo, and swished it toward Andy. “There’s a restroom through those doors, on
the right.”

A few minutes
later, Andy waddled into the room like a penguin, his purple face reminding her
of an over-ripe grape. “This outfit was meant for someone a little less healthy
than me.”

Trish rolled her
lips together to contain a smirk. “You think?”

Andy assumed a
cocky stance. “You’re making fun of me after I spent all afternoon helping
you?”

“You mean helping
me re-do—”

He held up his
hands, the jacket sleeves near his elbows. “Okay, okay, don’t remind me.” Andy
tugged at the collar of the shirt. “I think the tux will work, except for
cutting off my air supply.”

Relief spilled
from Steve’s eyes. “You’ll do it then?”

“Of course.” He
spoke as if there’d never been a doubt.

“Thanks, pal. I
owe you.” Steve slapped him on the back. “I’d better pass the news on to Dani
before she hyperventilates.” He strode from the room with a happy whistle.

Trish smiled her
appreciation. “Another crisis averted, thanks to you.”

“Just remind me
not to bend over tomorrow, or we’ll have an even bigger crisis on our hands.”
He winked and disappeared through the doorway.

Trish laughed and
busied herself with preparing the room. She emptied the plastic grocery sacks
she’d dropped off earlier, set water and soft drinks on one counter, and
arranged the snacks in a separate location. The door creaked, and she whirled
around as Andy sauntered over to view her work. “You never stop, do you?”

The soft tone of
his voice flustered her, but she ignored the feeling and returned to her task.
“Who has time to stop?”

Andy laid an arm
across her busy hands. “You do. Did you stop long enough to eat supper?”

Trish frowned.
“Does fixing a plate count?”

“No.” He steered
her out the door and down the fluorescent-lit hallway. “I can tell I’m going to
have to keep an eye out for you, lady.”

“I can take care
of myself.”

“Um-hmm.” His
tone held doubt. “I’m sure you can, but will you?” Back in the parlor, Andy
guided her to the table, pulled out a metal folding chair, and motioned for her
to sit. Then he grabbed another chair, straddled it backwards, and rested his
chin on one fist.

A creamy pile of
mashed potatoes beckoned from her plate. She stuffed a forkful in her mouth and
closed her eyes in rapture. Mama Beth made the best mashed potatoes in all of Texas—even if they were now cold.

“How long since
you’ve eaten—two weeks?” Andy’s eyes held a bemused twinkle.

“I had
breakfast.” She opted not to elaborate.

“Today?”

Trish glared.
“Yes, today.” She stuck another bite of potatoes in her mouth and swallowed,
already revived. “Are you going to sit there and stare at me while I eat?
‘Cause I’m pretty sure it’s not good for my digestion.”

Andy’s cheeks
dimpled in a way that made her insides churn. “I promise not to stare if you promise
to eat all that food before you head down to the sanctuary for the rehearsal.”
He pointed to the plate to emphasize his words.

She raised her
gaze to the ceiling and sighed. “All right. Now go pester someone else so I can
eat in peace.”

He stood, whirled
the chair around to scoot it under the table, and moved a few feet away where a
group of men congregated.

She basked in the
momentary opportunity to relax, but also did a quick check of the room to
locate Little Bo. He stood nearby with Dad and J. C., so she returned her focus
to Andy. Completely relaxed, he chatted like he’d known these people his entire
life. The return to Miller’s Creek must be difficult for him considering the
false accusations leveled at him during his first stay. Within her, interest
and admiration arose as he relayed a story, the dimple on his left cheek
winking. He finished his tale, and the men around him burst into laughter.

Mama Beth hurried
past again. “Trish, dear, don’t forget about the tea.”

Trish huffed out
a sigh, shot an acidic arrow into the imaginary bull’s eye on the older woman’s
retreating back, and made a move to stand.

Andy caught her
attention with a stern shake of his head. “Got it. You eat.” He grabbed a metal
pitcher from the drink table and started making the rounds.

Out of the corner
of one eye, she noticed Dani headed toward her, a determined set to her chin.
Sheesh, couldn’t she have a few minutes to eat?

Like a frog
devouring a fly, Andy snagged Dani’s arm as she passed. She made a one-eighty
and faced the table where he poured tea. Within a minute, the guests had her
engaged in conversation. Andy pointed to Trish’s plate and gestured with a fist
to his mouth, then finished the game of charades with a wink.

A smile curved
her lips. She hated to admit it, but having someone look out for her felt good.
Addicting good.

Chapter 3

A
ndy’s blood pressure
climbed through the roof, along with a Texas-sized hankering for his boxing
gloves and punching bag. He folded his arms, leaned against the back wall of
the church, and crunched the peppermint he’d discovered in his pocket. The
rehearsal was scheduled to start at 7:00, and his watch now read 7:20. He’d
been in no-telling how many weddings, so it wasn’t like he didn’t already know
the routine. Walk in, assume the fig-leaf stance, walk out. Nothing
complicated. So why did wedding rehearsals have to take longer than a baseball
game in extra innings?

A hen party
gathered to his right, their voices lowered. At the mention of Trish’s name his
radar zoomed to high alert. He leaned closer.

“Trish did all
the decorating. I’m sure she’s trying to drum up business for that interior
design shop she has downtown.” The muscled woman with shiny blue eye makeup and
forearms bigger than his snickered. “Like she’s gonna be able to make a go of
that in Miller’s Creek.”

“Why did she
start a business in the first place?” asked another member of the group.

A third woman
jumped in. “Seriously. Her Daddy’s got enough money to take care of her and
Little Bo for life. Then with Doc being a vet, and her selling his practice. He
prob’ly left a chunk of life insurance when he died.”

Andy’s blood
boiled. Who gave them the right to make assumptions about the private details
of someone else’s life? Didn’t they realize how hurtful it was? Sounded like
jealousy and spite to him. He still bore the scars of small-town gossip from
his childhood, but thankfully, he’d proved them all wrong and risen above their
gloomy forecasts.

Down in front,
Trish finished talking to Dani and headed toward them.

“Shh,” one of
them hissed, “here she comes with that phony baloney smile.”

Trish gave Andy a
little wave as she passed, then moved on to the women. “Hi, y’all. Mama Beth
told me you’ll be serving the food for the reception tomorrow. We sure
appreciate your help. Let’s go to the kitchen.” She motioned for them to
follow. “I’ll show you where everything is and talk you through the plans.
Carla, Mama Beth asked that you run the kitchen tomorrow, but if you hit any
snags just come find me and I’ll do what I can to help.”

An urge to
protect Trish rose inside him. A big part of him longed to run after her and
beg her to be careful. Why? He rubbed down the creepy-crawly feeling on the
back of his neck and thought about the question. He knew how it hurt to lose
those you loved. Then to have to deal not only with the loss, but also people’s
hurtful words.

Dani edged up and
elbowed him in the ribs. “Hey, guy. Sorry I haven’t been able to spend more
time with you. How are you doing?”

“Better than the
last wedding rehearsal I attended.” Sheila’s image rose to his mind.

“Glad to hear it.
When I think about how Sheila treated you, I still get livid.”

“Please don’t.
I’m just glad I found out before it was too late.” He watched Trish and the
other women exit the sanctuary. “Tell me about Trish.”

Her eyes grew
troubled. “I’m really worried about her, Andy. She lost her mother a little
less than a year ago. I think I told you about the accident?”

“Yeah.”

“Trish and Little
Bo witnessed the whole thing, and they’re having a difficult time getting past
it.” She knotted her forehead. “And there’s something else. Something I can’t
quite put my finger on. She should be doing okay financially, but I guess her
business has taken a lot of money to get off the ground . . .”

“Dani, you ready
to get the rehearsal under way?” The preacher called from the front, his
microphone ringing.

“Definitely.” She
shouted, then stepped past Andy, her eyes sparkling. “Later, ‘gator.”

Andy wandered to
the front and sprawled out in a pew, his thoughts on the young widow and her
son. She appeared to be doing okay, but things weren’t always what they seemed
on the surface.

Trish entered the
hall door, her son’s hand tucked in hers. “Have I missed anything?” She slid in
beside Andy and pulled Little Bo into her lap, where he snuggled into her chest
with a thumb in his mouth.

“Yeah, it’s over.
Already gone through it a couple of times.”

Her wry
expression brought a grin to his face, but the gold specks in her tawny eyes
made his heart race. He forced his attention to the instructions the preacher
spouted.

A few minutes
later, the wedding party lined up at the back of the sanctuary to go through
the ceremony. Dani had the groomsmen walk the bridesmaids down the aisle, and
Andy was glad to be paired with Trish.

After making sure
everyone was in the right place, Trish hooked her arm through his and turned
toward Little Bo and the flower girl who stood behind them. “Hold her hand,
Bo.”

Her son let out a
disgusted sigh and wrinkled his nose. “Mo-o-om.” He stretched the word out in a
pleading tone.

“It’s almost
over, sweetie. Then you can go with Papaw to his house.” Trish turned her head
back Andy’s way. “Ready?”

He glanced down
at her bare feet. A grin spread across his face to match the one in his heart.
“Yeah, as a matter of fact, I am.” Past ready.

Trish and Little
Bo caught Andy’s attention throughout the rehearsal. The boy had endured as
much as he could take and was low on energy and patience. He yawned, and then
looked at Trish with begging eyes. She met his unspoken pleas with encouraging
smiles.

The silent
communication between them stirred something inside him. This woman had lost
the person she loved most. She could’ve emotionally abandoned her son and
curled up in her grief. But she hadn’t deserted her little boy, like . . .
Familiar thoughts tangled in his brain. He snatched a ragged breath to muster
his strength and, like he’d done so many times before, stuffed the thoughts
deep.

After they
practiced the ceremony a second time, the preacher announced the end of the
rehearsal. Andy plopped down on the front pew and yawned, the fatigue of a long
day catching up to him.

Trish, still
barefoot, climbed the steps to give directions for the following day, and then
took time to answer questions. She continued to smile and joke, gifted with the
rare ability to make each person feel important and recognized. But in one
second, as a group moved away, her game face slipped, and she raised fingertips
to rub her forehead. She was exhausted. To make matters worse, after everyone else
left, she still had more to do. Time to come to her rescue.

Andy took a
roundabout way to get up the steps, and moved in behind her to place a hand on
her elbow. “You look ready to topple. Let’s go buy those globes so you can get
home and rest.”

Weary lines
wrinkled her forehead. “I’ll get my purse and meet you in the hall.”

Andy told Mama
Beth his plans so she wouldn’t worry and left to find Trish. He spied her off
to one side, wistful eyes trained on Dani and Steve as they exited the
building, holding hands.

She turned as he
approached and quickly plastered on the breath-taking smile she could make
appear at a moment’s notice. “There you are. Ready?” She jangled her keys.

“I’m driving. You
need the rest.”

“But—”

“But nothing.” He
sent her a stern look.” You’ve spent all day helping everyone else. Let me help
you for a change.”

Her lips opened
like she wanted to say something, but then she clamped them shut. “Okay.
Thanks.”

Andy pushed
against the heavy wooden door and led the way through the honeysuckle-scented
night to his BMW Z3, his mind on the woman at his side. The woman who lugged
around a mountainous hurt and tried to pretend it didn’t exist.

“This is your
car?” Her voice held surprise, and in the moonlight he saw her eyes grow round.