Deep Dixie (28 page)

“
I
’
m fine. Fine.
”
She flung her hand out, meaning to give an elegant flourish toward the kitchen door in silent suggestion that he lead the way out. The gesture threw her off balance. She took a step back to regain her equilibrium, careful not to tromp on the poor, lifeless smoke alarm, only to land the heel of her fuzzy pink house shoe in Peachie Too
’
s water bowl.

No, she thought as she lurched along after Riley into the dining room with one soggy slipper and an ego to match, this did not bode well for her day at all.

* * *

They drove without talking for a good long while. The rain came in sheets then let up. The thunder rattled the windows and lightning scored white-hot across the sky. Then the clouds let loose again. And so it went.

In the midst of the deluge, it seemed almost unbearably intimate in the close quarters of the truck
’
s cab. The silence hanging between them only made it more so. He could hear her steady breathing, feel every move she made as she fidgeted with her hair, her dress, her mother
’
s pearls. It fascinated him how she sometimes simply skimmed the strand with her fingers, as if that simple act focused her, put her in touch with who she was and where she had come from.

Dixie was unlike most women Riley had known. She wasn
’
t driven and willing to run over anyone in her way like Carol, nor was she hard and manipulative like his sister, Marcia. Dixie was on her way to being someone extraordinary, he could see it in her flashes of fearlessness, in the strength of her faith, even in her moments of weakness. Dixie was a lovely flower, a seed planted deep in winter, who was just now pushing her tender green leaves up past her latest adversity.

Dixie was—he paused to steal a look at her as he slowed for a four-way stop—was asleep. He smiled. The poor thing had every right to be exhausted. She
’
d been through so much these last few weeks...and most of it all alone.

“
Get your rest, Sweet Dixie Belle.
”
He knew the gentle thrumming of the rain on the roof of
the truck would keep his voice from disturbing her.
“
I
’
m here now. Our partnership is firm, and so is my resolve not to let emotions get in the way of either of us reaching our goals.
”

* * *

“
Well, we
’
re here and it
’
s going to be smooth sailing from here on out.
”
Dixie scanned the unevenly spaced white-lettered names on the black felt directory in the building
’
s lobby. Her head throbbed and her stomach rumbled from hunger, but she wasn
’
t taking any chances on more things going wrong with this well-intentioned mission. Dixie ran her finger down the glass covering the office roster until she saw the name she
’
d been searching for.
“
Here he is.
”

“
Are you sure that
’
s Lettie
’
s grandson? Maybe you should have asked him over the phone if you had the right man.
”

“
And give him the chance to refuse to even see us and let us make our case? No, sir. I did not come all this way to let that happen.
”

“
Maybe he wouldn
’
t have refused to see you. Or just maybe he
’
d have told you up front that you have the wrong guy.
”

“
It
’
s
not
the wrong guy. Look at that name.
”
She stabbed her finger at the neat row of letters.

“
Fulton Summers,
”
Riley read aloud. He shook his head, his expression caught somewhere between confusion and awe.
“
My, but your family
’
s influence does have a far reach.
”

“
There were only three Summers listed online, and only one of them with the first name Fulton. It has to be Lettie
’
s grandson.
”
Dixie raised her head, letting the gesture tack on her nonverbal
so there
.
“
And for the record, I
’
m not at all surprised to see something of my family reflected in the man
’
s name. His mother and mine were close as sisters once upon a time, before—
”

Dixie cut herself off. She
’
d told him all he needed to know about the matter. Speaking about the rest of it would only put her in a poor state of mind for meeting Fulton. She tapped the glass with her fingernail.
“
That
’
s not important now. Look here, office number 308.
”

Despite her physical discomfort and the nagging reminder of what still stood between Fulton Summer
’
s family and her own, her spirit had begun to lift. She tugged at Riley
’
s rain-dappled sleeve and took a step backward toward the elevator doors behind them.
“
We
’
ve actually found Lettie
’
s grandson and in a few minutes we
’
ll be planting the seeds for a long overdue reunion. Maybe we
’
ll even kindle a new relationship that
’
s going to benefit all of us personally and professionally. Don
’
t tell me you
’
re not just a little excited about that.
”

He held his hands up, his footfalls leaden but compliant as she dragged him along.
“
Anything that gets me back on track with the adoption is pretty exciting to me. It may sound mercenary, but I can
’
t help but think that having the grandson of one of the people who will be influencing Wendy represent us in court will be a positive thing.
”

Dixie pressed the up button on the elevator then looked around the simple but clean lobby.
“
It
’
s not a very fancy place, is it?
”

“
I
’
ve seen worse.
”

“
Yes, but I mean for a
lawyer
. When you compare this building with the one of Greenhow, Greenhow, Byson, and Pryor...
”

“
Considering we
’
re looking for pretty much the opposite experience as we had with them, I
’
d say we
’
re off to a good start.
”

Dixie smiled. Riley
’
s approval in this situation meant a lot to her, and not just because if things went smoothly here they
’
d agreed to hire Lettie
’
s grandson to do their legal work.
“
So,
you have a good feeling about this?
”

The elevator groaned to a stop, announcing its arrival with a harsh electric buzzer. The doors rolled open.

Instead of answering, Riley motioned for her to get on the elevator.

“
Riley?
”
She stepped into the dark, paneled space, foreboding closing in on her.
“
You
do
have a good feeling about this, don
’
t you? You wouldn
’
t even consider using this lawyer for Wendy
’
s case if you didn
’
t have a good feeling, would you?
”

“
I don
’
t make my decisions on emotion, Dixie.
”
He stepped inside and turned to face the doors as they swished shut. He pushed the button marked 3 and the elevator whirred and groaned then hurtled upward.

The elevator slowed. The number 3 flashed in green over the doors then blinked out. The door slid open.

He looked down, put his finger under her chin, and whispered,
“
But to answer your question, yes. I do have a good feeling about this. I just don
’
t actually know what
this
is going to be.
”

It was the most perfect time for that kiss now. And the least probable. Despite the wild ride of he had given her emotionally, and the lingering lightheadedness from the upward lunging of the elevator, Dixie knew that Riley Walker would never follow a statement about not letting his emotions rule his actions with something so impulsive.

She smiled up at him and nodded.
“
I guess the only way to find out is to dive in, then, right?
”

Chapter Twelve

“
Oh my!
”
Dixie
’
s astonishment as they stepped into Fulton Summer
’
s office escaped her lips before her brain had a chance to rein it in.

“
I take it you
’
ve been caught off-guard, Ms. Walker?
”
Fulton stood, seeming neither agitated nor surprised.

“
Actually, I
’
m Riley Walker.
”
Riley thrust out his hand.

Dixie wondered whether Riley were trying to diffuse the tension created by her idiotic outburst or hoping to make a quick ally in the other man and distance himself from Dixie entirely.

“
Glad to know you, Mr. Walker.
”
The lawyer gripped Riley
’
s hand.

“
Nice to meet you too, sir.
”
Riley gave a nod and released the handshake.
“
And this is—
”

“
I am so sorry.
”
Dixie rushed forward the moment Fulton
’
s hand was free. She seized it and began pumping vigorously.
“
I just hadn
’
t thought about how familiar you would look. I mean, I shouldn
’
t be surprised after, well, a lifetime looking at Miss Lettie, that is Letticia Gautier, my--
”

Fulton dropped Dixie
’
s hand like it weighed a ton.
“
My
grandmother?
”

Riley moved in close behind Dixie. She welcomed the comfort of his nearness.

“
Is she dead?
”
Fulton said it so coldly that Dixie shivered.

“
No! No, she
’
s
not
dead,
”
she came back with almost a huff.

“
Oh. I see.
”
He dropped into his seat and rubbed his eyes with one hand, causing his gold, wire-rimmed glasses to bob up and down on top of his thumb and forefinger.

Dixie
’
s hopeful enthusiasm plummeted. She studied the man behind the old but immaculate wooden desk. He wore his black hair cut very short and it had begun to recede on either side of his smooth forehead.

He had Lettie
’
s facial structure, and though his skin was just a hue darker it was equally rich and flawless. And yet, upon closer inspection, despite the strong pull of familiarity about him, she saw little else of Lettie.

There was a hardness around his mouth and a beaten-downness to his posture that had come over him when he slumped into the chair upon learning his grandmother was still alive. And where Lettie radiated inner joy, her grandson cast around him something else...not anything sinister or even unsettling so much as—sad. There was a deep, deep sadness about this man.

“
Mr. Summers.
”
Dixie eased down into the chair directly across the desk from the man she hoped to warm to on Lettie
’
s behalf.
“
I
’
ve come here because your grandmother is a very old woman. Very old. Near as we can calculate she will be one hundred years old in three months and a few days and—
”