“I’m . . . sorry,” I question, emphasizing my disadvantage here. I glance over at Billy who’s still smiling with that playful grin of his. His eyes spark as he takes in the woman holding onto me.
“Evie Harrington, this is Roxie McAllister, my forever girl.”
Roxie’s hands finally slip from me, and she turns to face Billy. “William, that is a horrible name.”
“Well, I can think of a better one, but you haven’t said yes yet,” he teases.
“I don’t recall the question.” She arches a brow at him, and I instantly like her. I can’t be certain of their status, but I’m reading this situation as Roxie has put Billy in his place a time or two. And forever girl sounds strangely similar to girlfriend.
“Roxanne,” she states, holding out a hand for mine. We shake although it seems a little late since she just hugged me without knowing me. Then again, I imagine anyone close to the Harringtons knows of me, the infamous wife who walked away from James when he was at his lowest point.
“He told me to go,” I once explained to Giant.
“I know,” he replied, but disappointment rang in my ears. Giant wanted me to be stronger for James, but I just couldn’t be.
“Are you here for the wedding?” Billy asks.
“Are you here for the dedication?” Roxie questions, and Billy cranes his neck, turning his focus to his forever girl.
“Roxie,” he whispers like something is a secret.
“Who’s getting married?” I ask.
“Giant,” Roxie interjects, and I glance at Billy, who closes his eyes for a split second.
“Giant?” I choke. George Harrington II was as loyal as they come to his first wife. Sweet, innocent, quiet Clara didn’t seem to match the brooding, solid, militant stature of her husband. She died almost eleven years back from breast cancer, and Giant was wrecked. They’d been high school sweethearts and had two beautiful daughters. I couldn’t imagine him with anyone else. I also wonder why he hadn’t told me himself.
James and Giant were close once upon a time, and both wanted Clara and me to be friends. On a surface level, we were friends because we were family. However, we were very different from one another. Nonetheless, I loved her as a sister-in-law. Hearing Giant is marrying someone when I didn’t even know he’d fallen in love is shocking.
I’d been in touch with Giant lately as I relied on him to help me track down James. My husband was rather vague about what he did or who he did or where he went.
“Who’s the lucky lady?” I ask, fighting the lump in my throat. Giant deserves every bit of goodness in his life. He deserves a second chance at love. We all deserve second chances for things.
“Her name’s Letty Pierson. She’s from Chicago.” Billy lowers his voice, making it sound ominous as though a Southern mountain man can’t marry a damn Yankee. Fortunately, the Harringtons do not discriminate that way. Billy’s explanation tells me nothing about the woman, but I respond as pleasantly as I can.
“That’s wonderful. I’m happy for him. When’s the wedding?”
“Friday next,” Roxanne gleefully states, and something in my expression causes Billy to bite his lip.
“That’s soon.” I smile as best I can, but suddenly feel shaky. My hand covers my lower abdomen.
“So, are you coming to the wedding?” Roxanne asks, hope ringing in her question. “It’s up on the ridge.”
This additional information causes my shakes to turn to tremors. I fight to still my body, but a cold sweat trickles under my armpits.
“The ridge?” I croak. The parcel of land inherited by Giant three miles up the mountain behind Pap’s old cabin. Grandpa Harrington was an interesting fella, as he referred to himself, and he loved this mountain more than anything. Well, maybe it tied in affection with his love of beer and his wife, Charlotte.
“Yeah, that’s where they met, sort of, so they’re getting married there,” Roxanne explains while I watch Billy lower his eyes to the floor. A hand comes to Roxanne’s back, and I don’t miss the tenderness in his touch. Billy methodically strokes up and down his forever girl’s spine, and Roxie steps closer to him, like it’s instinct, like he’s magnetic.
“That’s a lovely location for a wedding,” I offer although my voice strains with forced enthusiasm. “What’s the dedication?”
An awkward silence falls around us for a second, and it’s clear I’m missing something heavy.
Billy’s hand stills on Roxie’s back. Her mouth opens, but Billy speaks instead. “Have you seen James?”
“I have.” I hold my head higher, hoping to restore the shield I knew I’d need to return to this area.
“He didn’t tell you about the dedication?” Billy asks.
“No.” My answer hesitates, lingering as I wait for them to tell me about this secretive ceremony.
“I think James is the best person to explain it,” Billy states, and the tremors begin again, rippling up my spine in unease. “Ask him about it.”
“William,” Roxie hisses beside him, both a warning and a reprimand. Billy leans into his woman and kisses her temple. She turns to face him, and he goes for her lips. It’s quick but tender, and I blush like I’m witnessing something I shouldn’t see. The action seems so innocent but intimate, and I’m the one a little flushed from watching them.
“Whatcha drinkin’?” Billy tips his head to the bar where my glass remains untouched. I thought I wanted something strong to dull my thoughts and ease the ache of seeing James again, but I haven’t found the stomach to drink the whiskey.
“I should go,” I say, unhooking my bag from the back of the barstool. The need for air causes my lungs to ache. I hate the secrecy I sense around me.
“Don’t leave,” Billy begs, stepping toward me. “How long have you been in town? Where are you staying?”
“I’m at the Conrad Lodge.” Corabelle Conrad was the nemesis of the neighborhood, according to the Harrington clan. Growing up, she was the youngest girl on their secluded Mountain Spring Lane. The elusive fire road had three large antebellum homes evenly spaced along the gravel drive with a river running behind the properties. The Harringtons own one. Next door lived the Chances. Kip Chance was once the mayor of Blue Ridge and had his house deemed the official mayor’s home. The current mayor is another Harrington named Charlie. On the dead end of the drive, the last home belongs to the Conrads who own the Lodge. Currently, their daughter runs the place. The Conrads were an older couple when they had their miracle baby who they spoiled even in adulthood. When I’d left the area, Cora was in the middle of major renovations to the place her parents had let run down. Now, the lodge was a beautiful resort experience.
“Hang out a bit,” Billy encourages. “It’s been a long time since we’ve seen you.” He doesn’t have to remind me. The six-year separation feels like my time with James was in another life. Clearly, we’ve all moved on, and my heart hurts with the thought.
Nothing stays the same.
“I’m not certain how long I’ll be in town, but I’ll come back. Another night,” I weakly suggest.