Sweets Galore: The Sixth Samantha Sweet Mystery (The Samantha Sweet Mysteries) (8 page)

Nina Rae, Bessie and Lily planned
to make the rounds of the art galleries. Since that would bring them within two
blocks of her shop, Sam wasn’t surprised when the ladies stopped in.

“Isn’t it the most
darling
little place?” Nina Rae said.

Sam gave her aunt Lily a hug. Her
mother’s younger sister had always been Sam’s favorite. With her soft voice she
often appeared to defer to Nina Rae, but Sam had learned that was the secret to
getting your own way much of the time.

“It’s as if the whole idea for the
shop were hers, isn’t it?” Lily whispered in Sam’s ear. Aloud she said, “It’s
beautiful, Sam. And everything looks amazing.”

Lily’s shape—so much like
Sam’s—attested to her love of pastries although Lily compensated well with her
choices of expensive and flattering clothing. Sam wondered, more than once in
her lifetime, how she’d managed to inherit more of her aunt’s genetic makeup
than her own mother’s. Now if she could only remember to emulate Lily’s fashion
sense.

“Choose anything you want,” Sam
said. “Our signature coffee is very good, and I can vouch for the goodies too.”
She patted at her stomach.

“You’ve lost some weight, haven’t
you dear?” Bessie asked.

Since last night?
“I sure hope so.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Nina Rae
said. “We all want to see your dress. I mean,
before
the official walk down the aisle.”

No way was she walking into that
minefield. Sam brightened her smile. “So! How about a couple of the butter
cookies? Maybe a scone? Jen, make up a plate of treats and I’ll get everyone
something to drink. Coffee or tea, everybody?”

While they sampled several kinds
of cookies Sam ducked into the kitchen and phoned Rupert. “Another zipper
check,” she whispered.

“Of course, sweetie. Ready now?”

I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready.
“Give me thirty minutes.
Rupe
, thanks. You’re the best.”

Back in the sales room Sam put her
smile in place and stood by while the women showed off their purchases from the
plaza shops.

“Too bad we couldn’t talk
Wilhelmina into coming along,” Nina Rae said, dropping a lacy sweater back into
her shopping bag.

Sam pictured her athletic cousin
who preferred that everyone call her Willie. Hitting the gift shops with a
group of women would be Willie’s last desire in the world. In fact, they’d
probably had a hard time convincing her to come to the wedding at all; Willie
had never been interested in romance or marriage. Sam watched her mother,
chatting with the other women at the bistro table.

Could that be the reason Nina Rae
never used the shortened versions of either Sam’s or Willie’s names? Some
things still weren’t talked about very openly in her world. That could account
for Nina Rae’s being so relieved to meet Beau and pushing so hard for their
wedding. It was bad enough to have such a masculine niece.

Sam shook off the feeling. Her mother
came from a different generation, that was all. Deep down she knew that Nina
Rae didn’t harbor any bad feelings toward Willie or anyone else. She glanced at
the clock above the counter. The zipper.

“Oh, gosh, I’m sorry to run out on
you but I just remembered a delivery deadline. I need to get going,” she said.

“Need any help?” Aunt Bessie
asked.

“No, no, you all stay here and
finish your afternoon tea. I’ll see you tonight.” She dashed out the back door,
into her van and back to her old house.

Rupert was sitting in his Land
Rover, reading through some typed pages.

“No problem,” he assured her when
she apologized for running late. “I’ll have to do some revision on this new one
before I send it to my editor. No matter how good you think you’ve got it, there’s
always some little thing to change.”

He set the pages on the passenger
seat and followed her inside.

“I didn’t bring my body briefer
with me, since I just dashed over from the bakery,” she said, belatedly
remembering the foundation garment. “But I need to know if this is even getting
close. If not, I think we better call your friend the seamstress.”

She stepped into the dress and
called him into the bedroom. The zipper slid up. Not easily, but almost to the
top.

“I think another three pounds and
I might actually breathe at the same time,” she said cautiously.

The box. She’d handled it yesterday. Could it be?

Chapter
7

The heavenly scent of grilled meat
wafted across the back deck and into the house, and Sam smiled at the sounds of
their guests laughing and chatting outside in the mellow September evening.
Kelly chopped tomatoes and added them to the big salad bowl on the kitchen
counter.

“I’m happy for you, Mom. Really
glad you met Beau.”

In comparison to Jake?
Sam decided not to read too much into her
daughter’s comment. It only mattered that
she
knew she’d made the right choice. Jake the charmer with his changeable moods,
or Beau the solid, honest man who loved her above all else. There was no
comparison.

“Thanks,
Kel
.
I can’t believe how lucky I’ve been this past year.” A picture of the wooden
box popped into her head. Had it played a big role in bringing her that luck?

Kelly nodded as she added a
chopped avocado to the salad. “True. A lot of great things have happened for
you. Including having me move back home.”

Sam rolled her eyes. “Including
that. But don’t get too cocky.”

Chants of “steak-steak-steak” rose
from the back deck.

“We’d better be getting the rest
of this food to the table, or there’s likely to be an uprising,” Kelly said.

“This is a Texas crowd. As long as
the steak makes it to the plates we’ll be okay.”

She picked up tongs and pulled
ears of sweet corn from the big kettle on the stove, stacking them on a large
platter. Thick toast with garlic butter filled a couple of baskets, and a
casserole with barbeque beans had just come out of the oven.

Bessie stepped into the kitchen.
“I hope Chub can pry our bull-headed daughter away from your horses long enough
to eat with us,” she said with a laugh. “I’d really hoped she’d outgrow that
stage by her teens, like most girls do. But
no
,
she works with ’
em
all week and rides ’
em
for fun on the weekends.”

“She’s welcome to ride here, all
she wants,” Sam said. “Beau says these two don’t get nearly enough exercise.”

“Let’s not tell Willie that until
after supper.” Bessie took the platter of corn Sam had set on the kitchen’s
center island.

Sam glanced out the wide windows
that faced the pasture as she set the baked beans on the table. In the distance
Willie stroked Old Boy on his velvety nose then turned toward the house. Sam
had the feeling Beau had already given her cousin the go-ahead for all the
horse-time she wanted.

Beau caught Sam’s eye through the
window and she pointed toward the laden table. He handed platters of steaks to Chub
and Buster then reached for the rope on the large bell that hung near the back
door.

The long dining table had been
maxed out with extra leaves and it didn’t take but a rabbit’s hair, as her
father would say, for everyone to get to their seats.

“Here’s to Sammy and Beau,” Howard
said, raising his glass of bourbon. “Thanks for having us all out to your
home.”

Sam felt a warm glow. It meant a
lot to her that her father liked Beau so well and approved of the home she
would now call her own. But then, hadn’t she known that he would? The fertile
ranchland and barn, the horses and dogs, the big log house—if Howard Sweet
could have ordered up an ideal spot for his eldest daughter, Sam knew this
would be it. She pressed her lips together so they wouldn’t tremble.

“To my lovely bride and her
family,” Beau said, with a warm hand on her shoulder. “I’m right proud to be
here, as
ya’ll
would say.”

Somehow they all knew that he
meant it with respect.

“Now let’s eat this fabulous
steak,” said Uncle Buster.

Bowls and platters were passed and
conversation waned.

“Day after tomorrow, Mrs.
Cardwell,” Beau said quietly as he leaned toward her with the salad bowl.

She passed the bowl along and
linked her little finger with his, under the table, for a quick moment.

“I love you, Beau. Thank you for
being you.”

“You two are
gonna
have years and years to moon over each other like that,” Uncle Buster said in
his usual good-natured challenging manner. “Now, don’t let this dinner get
cold.”

Everyone laughed. Sam gave Beau’s
hand another squeeze.

As the plates began to empty and
offers of seconds and thirds went unheeded, Sam nudged Kelly and the two
cleared the way for dessert.

“I thought about making a special
cake for tonight,” she said as she carried in a stack of small plates. “But
then I remembered that Daddy would probably disown me if there weren’t pie with
at least one meal. So, Sweet’s Sweets is proud to present our own recipe for
real, authentic Texas pecan pie.”

She gave a small curtsy and Kelly
walked in with two pies.

“Well, it’s a good thing you said
that,” Uncle Buster said with a fake scowl. “Hanging’s too good for a woman who
don’t serve pecan pie at a special occasion like this.”

Sam let the remark slide. Buster’s
humor often missed the mark, part of the reason she and Rayleen had often
called him Uncle Bluster when they were kids.

While Kelly cut and served the
pie, Beau leaned toward Sam again. “We
gonna
tell
them tonight?”

“Oh. Yes, definitely.” She tapped
on her wine glass with her fork. “We have a little change of plans to
announce.”

Nina Rae’s face froze.

“No, Mother, you will be relieved
to know that we are not cancelling or changing the wedding date. Sorry, I
should have rephrased my introduction.”

Her mother’s expression lightened.

“We have changed our travel plans
for the honeymoon. We’re going to Ireland.”

Voices erupted from every side of
the big table.

“The trip is courtesy of Uncle
Terrance.”

At least half the faces wore
puzzled expressions.

“Mother, you confirmed for me the
other day that there was a great-uncle of mine in Galway, Ireland, and although
I don’t remember him myself, apparently he remembered me. And I’m surprised to
say, he remembered me in his will. The trip is from him.”

A dozen more questions came at
her, but Sam had to admit that she didn’t know much more than she’d already
told them.

“I can’t say anything more, other
than ‘let’s eat pie’.” She gave a shrug and took up a forkful of pecans in
their sticky filling.

Beau offered after-dinner drinks
and Buster and Willie went out to the back deck for a cigarette with theirs,
while Lily insisted on helping Sam and Kelly in the kitchen.

“I’d keep news of this inheritance
down if I were you,” Lily said as she rinsed another plate and handed it to Sam
to put in the dishwasher. “Your little sis is going to have a cow over the fact
that she didn’t get something too.”

“I don’t
know
that she didn’t get anything,” Sam said, fudging the truth
just a little.

Hardgate had said the inheritance
went to one niece in each branch of the family, which actually would cut out
Rayleen. But until Sam knew more, including whether the bequest was even worth
arguing over, she didn’t intend to allow it to become a battle. She would split
the proceeds with her sister if it amounted to anything.

Nina Rae’s mouth seemed a little
pinched when Sam emerged from the kitchen, massaging lotion into her hands.

“Coffee, Mother? I’ve got decaf.”

“No thank you. Your father and I
need to be going. I wouldn’t want Zoë to think it rude of us to come in late at
night.”

Were the battle lines already
being drawn?

“Zoë’s used to all sorts of
guests. I’m sure she doesn’t keep tabs on when everyone comes and goes.”

“Be that as it may, we’ll be
leaving shortly. I just need to say goodbye to Bessie and Chub.”

“Mother—”

But Nina Rae already had her purse
strap over her arm and was halfway to the door. She gave Bessie a quick peck on
the cheek, snagged Howard’s elbow and they were gone. Sam sighed. But she
wasn’t going to stress over it. The week had enough built-in stressors without
spending time worrying over her mother’s never-ending tendency to read drama
into every little thing. She’d long ago given up trying to please everyone.

However, despite telling herself
to stop analyzing, to simply focus on getting through the next few days with
her sanity intact, she found herself thinking of ways to temper the situation.
No doubt there would be talk in the family about Sam being the sole heir to
whatever it turned out to be. She probably shouldn’t have told them about it.

She dozed fitfully until her alarm
went off. Rolling toward Beau’s side of the bed she discovered that he was
already up. She still wasn’t used to the fact that he sometimes got emergency
calls during the night and awakening to an empty house was going to happen now
and then. However, a strip of light at the base of the bathroom door confirmed
that he hadn’t left yet. The light clicked off and she heard the door quietly
open.

“I’m awake,” she said. “Let me
turn on a lamp for you.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb
you.”

She pulled herself out of bed,
explaining why he was the least disturbing person in her life at the moment.

He wore his rancher clothes—jeans,
plaid shirt, roper boots. “Thought I’d tend the horses early and try to finish
my day at the office in time to help out with whatever you need me to do
today.”