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She shrugged and started the engine. “I’ll drive away with the carandyour arm. Don’t think I won’t. I’m not a fan of your gender, right now.”
“Just… fine, I’ll take you wherever you want, but you have to let me drive.”
She looked in the direction of that little town then back up the trail, and he realized she was afraid someone was coming after her. Then she said, “Okay, just, hurry it up.” She gathered the white fabric all the way up around her waist and climbed over the console into the passenger seat. On the way, she picked up the black box— his life’s work— and tossed it into the back while he reached for it, making noises that weren’t quite words.
“Nah-bah-gah—” The box landed safely near his dad’s tackle box, and he lowered his hand and sighed in relief.
“Come on!” she twanged. She turned around, providing a glimpse of lacy underpants before lowering her skirts and sitting in the passenger seat.
He got in, closed the door, reached for his seatbelt?—
She reached over and pulled the shift lever into reverse, and the car jerked, startling him so much he let the seatbelt go and grabbed the wheel.
“Go!” she shouted.
“Going!” He went.
Jessi Brand left her front row pew and walked back down the aisle and around a corner toward the dressing room where her only daughter was getting ready to get married. Her heart was torn right down the middle. On the one hand, she wanted Maria Michele to have the perfect wedding day. On the other hand, if she was having second thoughts about marrying Billy Bob Cantrell, that was probably a good thing. Jessi’d never felt he was good enough for her girl, and she’d had a feeling since sunup that Maria had realized it, too.
Her notion was confirmed when she saw her two nieces, who were serving as bridesmaids, outside the dressing room door, wringing their hands and looking worried in their flouncy red dresses and cowboy boots. Her nephew Bubba was standing in front of the door like an unofficial country-church bouncer. Bubba was as big as his dad, Jessi’s big brother Garrett, even though he was adopted. She figured it had to be the food.
“Sorry, Aunt Jess,” Bubba said. “Maria Michele wanted a few minutes alone, and I promised I’d give ’em to her.”
“She needs us and you’re adickfor keepin’ us out here,” Drew said. She was as golden-blond as her parents, Ben and Penny, and only twenty-two.
Willow put a calming hand on her youngest cousin’s shoulder. “It’s probably just pre-weddin’ jitters. If she needs a few minutes alone, we leave her alone.” But when she shifted her dark brown gaze to Jessi’s, it said more. Something was wrong.
Willow would know. She and Maria were more like sisters than cousins. It was good that Willow still lived with her parents, Wes and Taylor, out at Sky Dancer Ranch. If she ever moved away from Quinn, it would break Maria’s heart.
But she was firmly planted now that she’d been hired as her Uncle Garrett’s newest deputy.
Jessi acknowledged Willow’s dark look with a nod then refocused on Bubba, who was far too tall to be her nephew. “You’re not fixin’ to try and keep me from goin’ in there, are you, Bubba?”
“It’s Ethan,” he replied. “You know I go by Ethan.”
Jessi rolled her eyes. “It might be Ethan to the honky tonk honeys at your shows, rockstar, but when you’re home— no matter how seldom— it’s Bubba. It’s alwaysbeenBubba and it’ll alwaysbeBubba. Now get the hell outta my way before I have to move you.” She added a smile to soften her words.
Bubba, all six feet and four inches of him, stepped aside. He even leaned across to open the door for his little aunt. The door swung wide, revealing an empty dressing room. The rear exit stood wide open, a rectangular view of blue Texas sky over a grassy lawn, a scrubby lot, and a stand of woods. There was no sign of the bride.
“Holy smokes, she’s run off!” Drew said, shouldering past her aunt and into the small room.
“Thank God,” Willow whispered, and maybe no one else heard her, but Jessi did.
“Bubba, go get your uncle Lash.” Jessi turned as she said it, but Bubba was already gone.
Jessi lowered her head and walked back into the main part of the church, where the whole clan and half the town had gathered, dressed to the nines for the first wedding of the Brand clan’s youngest generation. Everyone looked worried, and they leaned into each other, talking in loud whispers, wondering what the heck had happened.
Jessi walked up the aisle, her strides strong and deliberate, and met the right Reverend Wayland Wheeler’s bespectacled eyes with a little head shake to tell him it was off. Then she took the groom by one arm, and leaning close enough to smell the cigarette smoke and cologne blend of him, spoke near his ear. “I’m real sorry, Billy Bob. Jessi’s gone, and we don’t know where. I think we have to call this off.”
He pulled back a little to stare into her eyes. His were blue and bloodshot from the bachelor party. She wouldn’t know, since none of the Brand men had been invited. Then again, it seemed Billy Bob had been drinking more than he ought to for at least a month. Maybe he’d been having second thoughts, too.
His eyes showed shock first, and just when she started to feel pity for the guy, it turned to anger. Then he pushed past her, almost knocking her down. Would have, except that Lash had appeared beside her without a sound, and caught her shoulders before she could fall.
Billy Bob stormed down the aisle and out the church’s front doors. After making sure she was okay, her husband strode after him. He elbowed Garrett on the way by, and then heandher big brother left the church right behind Billy Bob.
As the red double doors swung closed behind them, Jessi stepped up beside the minister, facing the crowd, and cleared her throat. “There’s not gon’ be a weddin’ today, folks. I’m real sorry.”
Then she headed for the exit herself, but kept getting waylaid by one person after another, either saying they were sorry or asking if there was a way to help. Quinn was that kind of a town. They filled the pews, and there would be twice as many at the reception. Or would’ve been. Lord, what would they do with all the food?
