Part 7 (2/2)
She knew that the opening of the Taste of Texas Creamery for the summer season was a highly antic.i.p.ated event and that speculation over the season's flavors lasted for months. There was even a betting pool at the Red Fox Pub to guess the flavors.
Ali's friend and the town veterinarian, Nic Callahan, had explained what all the fuss was about. The ice cream shop's owner, Jared Kelley, taught at a small private college in Texas during the school year, but for the past few years he'd spent his summers in Eternity Springs. Because he had a pa.s.sion for the ice cream made in a small south-central Texas town, he'd had a summer supply s.h.i.+pped to him each May. After three consecutive years of running out of the creamy concoction by mid-June, Jared made the decision to open Taste of Texas. He owned his own refrigerated truck and made the fifteen-hour run to the factory whenever required.
”Confiscate the truck? Are you kidding? Someone would knock me down, steal my gun, and shoot me if I tried to do that.”
Ali laughed. ”I have this sudden mental picture of Reverend Hart doing a kung-fu kick and-”
”Alison,” a chilly and familiar voice interrupted from behind her. ”It's time we took our seats.”
SIX.
Mac couldn't recall the last time he'd been this furious.
He'd waited for his wife for twenty minutes beyond the time when they'd needed to depart their home in order to reach the Brown Palace with a comfortable cus.h.i.+on. It wasn't until he'd grabbed his phone and car keys from the console by the front door where he'd left them an hour earlier that he'd found her text message. He'd listened for the phone to ring but had ignored notice of incoming texts-a reasonable act considering that Ali had never once sent him a text before today.
He'd stewed about the situation all the way downtown. He'd wanted to hash out their problems in private before they faced the public. She would have known that, too.
Communication between the two of them had been next to nothing since she left. No phone calls, just a brief exchange of terse emails over a couple of issues with the kids, a question he had about her credit card bill, and one she had about the warranty on her tires. He'd pictured her having a blowout on a hairpin mountain curve, and he'd wanted to ask why she needed the warranty information, but he'd refrained. Logically, if something too bad had happened, she wouldn't be asking for information.
The fact that he'd had to worry about it at all annoyed him, and it was one of the items on the list of things he wanted to tell her. Only she hadn't come home. She'd outmaneuvered him, and he wouldn't have the opportunity to talk to her before he had to see her and pretend. That totally chapped him-as did the fact he could have been late to his own speech because of her.
When he'd pulled the Porsche up to the valet parking area, he'd tipped the driver well and asked, ”Have you parked a red BMW convertible tonight? Good-looking blonde driving?”
”I haven't, but my buddy did,” the young man responded. ”We noticed both the car and the babe.”
He'd been relieved to hear it. At that point he wouldn't have put it past Ali to stand him up. A check of his watch as he'd entered the ballroom showed he'd made it with ten minutes to spare. Barely enough time to glance through his notes for his speech.
He'd stopped just inside the ballroom and scanned the room looking for his wife. She wasn't at the reserved tables in the front, and it didn't help that he didn't know what she was wearing. Nevertheless, he expected to find her in something simple, stylish, and black. His gaze gravitated toward that look.
He didn't see her anywhere. He took a slow walk through the center of the ballroom, his gaze skimming over the crowd, until the unmistakable sound of her laughter amidst the din of conversation stopped him short. He turned toward the sound, but he still didn't see her. Then a flash of emerald caught his eye and he identified his wife.
Her shoulders were bare. Her dress was short. Her heels were high. And there was another man's hand at the small of her back.
Son of a b.i.t.c.h.
Mac didn't exactly storm across the room, but he definitely marched with steely determination. ”Alison, it's time we took our seats.”
He watched her spine straighten as she went rigid. The free-handed man she was with moved his mitt away from her waist and extended it and a lazy smile toward Mac. ”Judge Timberlake, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I'm Zach Turner, formerly of Prowers County. I understand that you were instrumental in my being nominated to receive this award tonight. I want to thank you. It's a great honor.”
It took Mac a couple of seconds to process the information. Zach Turner. He'd been attached to a federal task force and worked undercover in Oklahoma. Went into a burning trailer to rescue a couple of children when a meth lab exploded. He was the guy with his hands on Mac's wife? Great. Just great.
”Yes, of course.” He accepted the man's handshake. ”I was glad to be of help. Your actions were the definition of heroism. You deserve the recognition. I'm just sorry it's taken so long for you to get it.”
Mac could tell that Turner's revelation had caught Ali by surprise, so he asked, ”How is it that you know my wife?”
Ali finally found her voice. ”Zach is the sheriff in Eternity Springs.”
”Really.” Mac placed his own hand at the small of his wife's back. ”Small world, isn't it? Now if you'll excuse us, Alison and I need to take our seats.”
Sheriff Turner lifted his champagne gla.s.s in a salute that Mac considered a shade mocking. ”Enjoy your evening, your honor. Ali.”
”You too, Zach,” Ali replied. ”And congratulations on your award.”
Mac guided her through the milling crowd toward the head table. Though she hid it well when greeted by friends and acquaintances along the way, he knew she wasn't happy. Shoot, if her spine grew any stiffer, she just might break in two.
Not that he cared. He was plenty torqued himself. If her game had been to make him angry, she was racking up some score.
The head table was actually two reserved rounders, each set for six, at the front of the room. They found their places just as the emcee for the evening stepped up to the podium and asked those gathered to take their seats. Before he could exchange a private word with Ali, they were joined at the table by an honoree and his guest. Mac inwardly winced when he spied Sheriff Turner ambling their way.
The dinner proved to be a trial. Mac had attended countless events such as this throughout his career, but he couldn't recall ever being quite so uncomfortable. The company was affable, even interesting. Ali had always been a master at directing conversation in such circ.u.mstances, and tonight was no different. Yet tonight was completely different.
It was almost as if Ali were here with Turner and Mac was the one who'd attended solo. Throughout the meal, he and Ali communicated sparingly, avoiding each other's gazes. In contrast, his wife and the sheriff gave the impression of being longtime friends. Mac heard more than he'd ever wanted to know about the curious personalities of Eternity Springs.
He brooded over his steak and would have missed his cue to rise for his speech had Ali not elbowed him sharply in the ribs. He was glad to escape the table, and he put his personal troubles out of his mind as he gave the talk about heroism that he had worked hard to perfect in recent weeks.
He managed a jab at the celebrity-wors.h.i.+p phenomenon while he spoke about qualities found in heroes, of courageousness and determination, of selflessness and sacrifice. It had occurred to him while writing the speech that once he'd have ascribed such attributes to his wife. Their children certainly had recognized it. How many times had he heard one or another of them say, Thanks, Mom, you're my hero?
That wasn't what the kids were saying about her now, and Ali needed to know that. Here, tonight. He'd be d.a.m.ned if he'd give her the chance to dodge him again.
After concluding his speech and introducing the video prepared about each of the honorees, Mac slipped outside the ballroom and made his way to the lobby, where he rented a room. He returned to the dinner just in time for the award presentation, and he tried not to begrudge Zach Turner the enthusiasm Ali displayed on the sheriff's behalf when they announced his name. The man truly was a hero.
Of course, that didn't mean Mac had to like it when he caught said hero enjoying the view presented by Ali's plunging neckline.
The emcee thanked everyone for attending and announced the date for next year's awards dinner, then the lights came up and the crowd rose from their seats. Individually, Mac and Ali took a few moments to personally congratulate each of the honorees. They both saved Zach Turner for last.
Mac shook the sheriff's hand and thanked him for his service. Then he placed his hand at the small of Ali's back and waited, letting both Ali and Turner know that he wasn't going anywhere without his wife. Except for the slight firming of her spine, Ali ignored his presence when she spoke to the sheriff.
”The story of that rescue was amazing, Zach,” she said. ”I am in awe of your bravery, your courage, and your compa.s.sion. I'm so glad I was here tonight to hear about it.” Adding a teasing note to her voice, she added, ”Especially since it'll give me cachet at the next Patchwork Angels quilters meeting.”
Turner grimaced and scratched his cheek. ”Any chance I could bribe you to keep quiet about this? Maybe a sample preview of the Creamery's new flavors?”
”That is definitely a tempting offer, especially since the information is bound to come out whether I say anything or not. I saw a reporter for the Denver Post here tonight, and Celeste reads the newspaper religiously. Besides, if I'm smart about it, I can leverage this news for something from Sarah's oven. The Creamery's ice cream may be good, but it can't possibly top Sarah's desserts.”
”You're right, I'm afraid.”
Ali glanced toward the crowd of others waiting to speak to Turner, then said, ”Again, congratulations, Zach. Have a safe trip home.”
”Thanks.” Following a quick glance at Mac, the sheriff added, ”You too.”
Ali turned and walked toward the exit. Mac stayed right behind her. Upon reaching the lobby, she opened her evening bag and withdrew her valet ticket. Mac grasped her elbow and tugged her to a halt. ”We need to talk, Alison.”
She closed her eyes. ”Yes. But not now. Call me and-”
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