His First and Last (Ardent Springs #1) (32 page)

He shared a complicated past with both women, and he intended to spend a complication-free future with one of them. Did this new development mean the pair would become friends? That Carrie would become a regular part of his life again? Spencer didn’t hate his ex-wife, and after what he’d learned last night, he felt more protective of her than he had in years.

But he also didn’t want to sit around over coffee reminiscing about the past.

Once the clock on the back of the stove glowed eight thirty, Spencer slid on his boots, but he left the cowboy hat on the table. He didn’t need it for this particular mission. As Spencer’s foot hit the last step, a pickup truck came flying up the driveway, throwing gravel in every direction and bouncing through the potholes hard enough to give whoever was driving a bad case of whiplash.

The green Ford had barely stopped before Patch was out of the truck and charging Spencer’s way.

“Where’s my goddamn wife?” Patch said, grabbing the front of Spencer’s T-shirt.

“Get off me, Farmer,” he said, shoving the man back. But Patch’s reason had left him.

“She ain’t got no place else to go, so I know you have her.” A drop
of spittle dangled precariously on the edge of Patch’s bottom lip. “She’s mine and I want her back.”

Spencer broke the man’s grasp on his shirt for the second time. “I don’t have your wife.” Which was true. Carrie wasn’t with him. “Now get out of here before you do something you’ll regret.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” Farmer said, shoving up his sleeves. “You can’t keep her from me.”

“Why’d she run from you, huh, Patch? What did you do to her to make her leave?” Provoking the already furious man wasn’t the best idea, but Spencer had passed mildly pissed himself. “Maybe you should pick on somebody your own size.”

Patch’s eyes went wide with fury as he lunged at Spencer again, but before the two men locked together, a shot rang out from the porch. Both turned to see Rosie Pratchett marching toward them carrying a shotgun pointed at the sky.

“Get off my property right now,” she yelled at Patch. “You’re not welcome here. Now go.”

Farmer had the sense to throw his hands in the air. “I only come for my wife.”

“Spencer doesn’t have her. Now go on, before I fire at something other than the clouds.”

Keeping his eye on the older woman, Farmer climbed into his truck and backed out of the driveway, leaving Spencer standing next to Rosie, dazed and confused.

“Since when do you keep shells in that gun?” He knew Rosie had a gun in the house, but as far as he knew, she hadn’t bought ammunition for it in years.

Rosie kept her focus on the retreating Ford. “I had one left in a box in the pantry.”

Which meant two things. She’d been bluffing when she’d threatened to shoot Farmer, and Rosie kept live rounds next to the baking soda and pancake mix.

Once the truck disappeared from sight, she turned to Spencer. “Are you all right?”

Straightening the front of his shirt, he answered, “I’m fine. Are you?”

Dropping the gun onto her shoulder, she said, “Fit as a fiddle. Come in and have some breakfast.”

By ten o’clock, Lorelei was still reeling from the fact that Granny had chased off Carrie’s husband with a shotgun. She’d been sleeping until she’d heard raised voices outside her window. By the time she reached the window seat, Granny had fired the shot and was charging across the yard like a geriatric angel of vengeance.

Lorelei had stayed up the night before, waiting for Granny to get home to explain why Spencer’s ex-wife was sleeping in their guest room. In typical Granny fashion, she’d declared that Carrie would stay with them as long as she needed and no man would lay a hand on her again.

So it was no surprise that her grandmother had put herself into the fray, but pulling a gun on a man shot past protective and into crazy territory. Then again, Lorelei had kicked the man in the groin, so who was she to judge?

“We need to talk,” Spencer said, joining Lorelei at the sink where she was loading the dishwasher. Carrie and Granny were sitting in the living room looking at old photo albums. Granny never passed up the chance to show off embarrassing pictures of Lorelei riding her rocking horse in nothing but a diaper.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, still shaken by the thought of what Patch could have done to him. Not that Spencer couldn’t hold his own, but Carrie’s husband was already nuts. Add in uncontrollable rage and there was no telling what he might have pulled. What if he’d had a gun of his own?

She shuddered to think of how bad the morning could have been.

“I’m fine,” he said, taking her hands. “This is important.”

Before Lorelei could answer, her cell phone went off. “Hold that thought,” she said, sweeping the phone off the table near the house phone. “Hello?”

“Lorelei, it’s Snow.”

“Hey. Is it getting busy over there already?”

Snow dropped her voice. “Not yet. Mrs. Mitchner was in here with her daughter a few minutes ago.”

“So Haleigh Rae
is
in town,” Lorelei said, remembering how Cooper had reacted when Spencer had mentioned her at the bar. Maybe they could all get together before she headed back to Memphis.

“Right. Haleigh.” Snow spoke to a customer, then returned to the call. “I heard them talking to the mayor’s wife, and I wouldn’t have paid much attention, but I heard Mrs. Winkle say your name.”

Lorelei was not surprised to be the topic of gossip, especially considering the source. “That’s nothing new,” she said, holding up one finger to Spencer, who looked agitated.

“
This
was new.” Snow’s voice dropped so low that Lorelei could barely hear her. “Mrs. Winkle said that Mike Lowry is your father.”

Dropping into a chair, Lorelei said, “What?”

“Mrs. Mitchner didn’t seem to believe her until she said that her daughter had heard the truth directly from Spencer Boyd, so it had to be true.” Snow told a customer she’d be right with them before whispering again. “Anyway, I don’t know if it’s true or not, and I’m not asking, but I thought you’d want to know.”

Locking eyes with Spencer, she said, “Thanks, Snow. I’ll talk to you later.”

Disconnecting the call, she rose from the chair and said, “Outside. Now.”

Chapter 28

He knew the second she looked at him that she knew. Why the hell hadn’t he stopped her from taking that call? Dammit, he’d wanted to be the one to tell her.

“Lorelei, let me explain,” he said as soon as they reached the porch.

“You told Becky Winkle?” she demanded, turning on him. “Why?”

“I didn’t mean to.” Spencer took her by the arms, but she shook him off. “The words just came out.”

Running her hands through her hair, Lorelei looked incredulous. “What, were you two talking about the weather and the words ‘Mike Lowry is Lorelei’s dad’ came flying out of your mouth?”

“Of course not.”

“Why were you even talking to Becky?” she asked. “Of all the people . . .”

“She found me at the Ruby tent. Becky was all worked up and said she’d caught you and Mike making out in an alley or something.”

“That’s bullshit,” Lorelei said.

“That’s what I told her. I knew she was lying, and I called her on it.”

With a muscle ticcing in her neck, she said, “You called her on it by telling her that Mike is my father?”

“No.” This was all wrong. He needed to make her understand. “Not at first. I kept telling her she didn’t see anything of the kind, but she wouldn’t admit she was lying. She wouldn’t give up, and I lost it and said it couldn’t be true because Mike is your father.”

As the hurt crossed her face, Spencer said, “She was trying to drive a wedge between us, to make me believe that you were seeing Mike behind my back. She even had the nerve to say that you were making a fool of me like Carrie did.”

“And your ego couldn’t let her get away with that,” Lorelei said, her voice even, monotone. “You had to set her straight.”

“I told you,” he said, reaching for her again, “I didn’t mean to tell her. Dammit, I’d give anything if I could go back and change what happened, but I can’t.”

Lorelei stepped back. “No, you can’t.”

“Lor, don’t pull away from me. I’m sorry.”

“I need to go back in.” She moved around him.

“We can talk inside.”

“No.” Lorelei stopped at the screen door. Without turning around, she said, “You need to leave.”

“Darling, please—”

“You couldn’t stand it, could you?” she said, turning on him fast enough to force Spencer a step back.

“Couldn’t stand what?” he asked.

“That my father is still alive. That he never abandoned me. That he wanted my mother.”

Hot anger danced at the base of his skull. “You’re going too far,” Spencer said. “You know I’m happy that you and Mike found each other.”

“Right,” she snorted. “So happy that you had to blab it to the one person who would make it sound tawdry.”

“Listen to what you’re saying, Lorelei. You know I wouldn’t do that.”

“At least I was conceived by two people who loved each other,” she yelled.

Spencer closed his eyes, the words hitting like a blow.

When he opened them again, he said, “And I’m the unwanted accident of a casual fuck. Thanks for the reminder, Lorelei. I’d almost forgotten.”

Turning on his heel, Spencer walked down the porch steps with his head high. He’d known Lorelei would be angry and disappointed, as she had every right to be. But he’d never imagined she would lash out at him, striking a blow to his very core.

And he’d had no idea how much it would hurt when she did.

By dinnertime Saturday evening, Lorelei had found only one shelter for battered women within fifty miles, and the facility had no beds available. The caseworker she’d finally reached suggested filing a police report, requesting a restraining order, and said a shelter in East Tennessee might be Carrie’s best option.

She’d also explained that restraining orders were practically useless, and that if they could get the victim to relatives out of state, that was likely the safest way to go. But Carrie’d made it clear that staying with her mother wasn’t possible, and she refused to call her sister.

Lorelei was half tempted to inform the woman that she didn’t have the luxury of holding on to her pride, but then she saw the determination in Carrie’s eyes and kept the thought to herself. So other than hiding the pregnant lady in the attic, they hadn’t come up with anything viable.

At which point Granny suggested Carrie might like to learn how to crochet. The younger woman looked surprised, but also as if she didn’t want to offend her hostess. When Granny said she could make a baby
blanket, Carrie nodded and followed her into the sewing room to pick out some skeins of yarn.

Lorelei took the opportunity to consider the last twenty-four hours. Seconds after she’d watched Spencer walk away, still riding on anger, she’d called Mike to let him know their secret was out. He sounded almost relieved, as if Spencer’s big mouth had done them a favor. Lorelei didn’t feel quite as charitable. Every time she thought about Becky Winkle telling everyone in town that Mike was her father, likely adding her own details, like Lorelei’s mother had gotten pregnant to trap him, she wanted to scream.

Oh, how Becky would relish the idea that Donna Pratchett hadn’t been able to leg shackle a man, even when she was expecting his child.

As if Becky “divorced-three-times-by-age-thirty” Winkle was any better.

Now that Lorelei was alone for the first time all day, the tears came. She crossed her arms on the table, dropped her forehead onto them, and let go. Yesterday morning she’d woken in Spencer’s arms, feeling as if something good had finally come her way.

How had she said such horrible things to him? She might as well have put a bullet through Spencer’s heart. There would be no coming back from this. No rainbows on her horizon. No Spencer loving her, faults and all.

As Lorelei sniffed and reached for a tissue, Granny’s ancient computer in the corner of the living room dinged to alert that an e-mail had been received. Lorelei hadn’t owned the address for long, less than a week, which meant she never got messages. Wiping her nose, she crossed the room to sit at the desk and checked her inbox.