Part 14 (1/2)
”I know!” She laughed, shaking her head. ”You're my best friend and I kept reaching for the phone to complain about my day.”
My best friend. He forced himself to breathe normally, thankful he hadn't said more.
”Let's not argue about Lexi, okay? We both want what's best for her. She'll make her own decisions in the end.” She was so close that he could see the golden flecks in her green eyes. She smelled like vanilla and... he leaned forward, inhaling.
”Brooks?” There was laughter and a question in her voice.
”I just realized what you always remind me of.”
”I'm afraid to hear it. My hygiene isn't the best when I don't get many visitors. Or maybe that's why I don't get many visitors.” She made a face.
”Jordan almonds. You smell like Jordan almonds.”
”Those pastel candy-covered almonds they serve at weddings?”
He nodded. ”Must be your shampoo.”
”I don't think so. But I'm glad it wasn't gingko fruit. Those trees smell like cat poo.”
”No, definitely not cat poo.”
”I'm going to change. I won't take long. Feel free to wander.” She didn't bother to wait for his response but disappeared through the kitchen doorway.
Brooks let out a long breath and didn't move from the spot. He had come so close to ruining their friends.h.i.+p. If he thought last week was bad, he needed to remember that it could be a permanent situation. Caroline would never want to hurt him. If she felt being his friend, when he wanted more, was hurtful then she would cut off all contact. Obviously she cared for him. But not that way. Maybe not ever.
Misery covered him like a blanket, dampening any joy he could have felt about putting aside their differences. Like a man caught between a cliff and an army behind him, he didn't know which fate to choose. Coming clean and losing her friends.h.i.+p, or suffering along in silence. Then again, the battle at Parker's Cross Roads might apply to the present moment. He lifted his gaze to the pressed tin tile ceiling. Like Nathan Bedford Forrest, outflanked by Federal soldiers, maybe he should 'charge 'em both ways'.
The n.o.ble thing, the right thing, would be to fight for their friends.h.i.+p until he couldn't take the pain any longer. And when he reached his breaking point, he would act like the man he was and be honest with her. He had nothing to lose, after all.
Debbie Mae held up four large dry cleaning bags. ”Let's see. Caroline, this one is yours.” She handed it over and Caroline was surprised by the lightness of the costume. It seemed there wasn't much except the bag and the hanger.
”Sweetie, this one is yours. Jacket, s.h.i.+rt, pants. You can use those hobnail boots you have for the reenactments.” Manning accepted his costume and shot a sly grin at Brooks.
”Here, Brooks. Yours was the hardest to find. True Regency from head to toe. As soon as you get into the s.h.i.+rt, we'll practice tying the cravat.”
The expression on his face made Caroline hold her dress over her face to smother the laughter. It was the look of a man being walked to the gallows. She'd never thought of how Brooks could have joined the reenactments as a colonel or a lieutenant but he'd preferred to wear the threadbare uniform of a conscripted soldier. She was almost positive they had relatives who had earned a high rank in the War.
Debbie Mae clapped her hands. ”Off you go. Brooks, should we change in the bathroom on the first floor?”
”That's fine, there's enough room for both of us to be throwing our clothes around.” Caroline answered, not waiting for Brooks to bother showing them the way.
”Actually, the pipes are being torn out and redone.” He shrugged. ”Always something in these places. Come on back and use my room. Manning and I will change in his old room.”
They followed him back along the narrow hallway, pa.s.sing the kitchen, down another hallway and past the smaller rooms that were once servants' quarters. He started up a narrow staircase, a smooth groove worn in each step. ”Watch the top step, it's got a bit of an overhang. It took me weeks to stop tripping on it.”
”Why do you sleep back here again?” Debbie Mae wrinkled her nose. ”Manning's old room is really lovely. What's wrong with yours?”
”Just the morning sun hitting my face at the crack of dawn.”
”Did you try black out curtains?” Caroline didn't mind the sun. It was like a natural alarm clock.
”Yes, but the crows gather in the elm right outside. There's no curtain that can block out that infernal cawing.”
”I didn't know you weren't a morning person. Don't you and Caroline go running every morning?”
”Not every morning, no.” He turned down a narrow hallway and opened a plain oak door. ”Ignore the mess.”
They trooped into the room and gazed around. An armoire stood sentry in the corner. Every wall held mahogany floor-to-ceiling bookcases except for a s.p.a.ce for an old painting and one area that held an antique roll top desk. The desk faced a simple window with double hung panes of gla.s.s. It was tidy, except for the stacks of books by the bed and a few papers on the bedside table. The bed wasn't particularly wide but certainly long enough to accommodate a full grown man.
”Cozy,” Debbie Mae said, eye brows raised. ”You don't even have your own bathroom?”
”Sure, I do. It's right down the hall.”
”No, I mean...” She opened the only other door in the room and gazed at Brooks' clothes in the deep-set closet. ”An attached bathroom, like people have when they can live in any room in Badewood. I don't believe you have 35 rooms to choose from and you picked this one.”
Caroline walked into the room, leaned over the desk and stared out at the view. ”You can see for miles! Isn't that the creek?”
”Yup. I see some herons there every evening, looking for crawdads. I think your house is about there.” He pointed over her shoulder, through the trees.
”I love this view. No wonder you moved out of the front of the house, crows or no crows.” She could see him sitting here, writing articles for big New York magazines. Of course, he was only here for the summer and would leave again in a few short months. She shoved the thought away. She ran a finger along the inset panels of the desk, admiring burl pattern. It was a bigger desk than her secretary, just right for a six-footer like Brooks. She started to lift the top, wondering how his laptop fit inside and if he'd found a way to coil the cord out the back without cutting a hole.
Brooks reached over and stayed her hand. ”No snooping, Finley.”
”Ha! Snooping implies curiosity and I was only checking to see how-”
”Come on, you two. Let's get changed so we can see if we need to make any adjustments.” Debbie Mae was already shooing Brooks from the room. He put up his hands in a 'no contest' move. Just before closing the door behind him, he shook his finger at Caroline as if to remind her to keep her paws off his stuff. Like the educated, mature woman that she was, she out stuck her tongue. A flash of his grin and the door was pulled closed.
”Okay, let's see how this thing fits.” Debbie Mae pulled unzipped the dry cleaning bag and pulled the dress out.
Caroline gasped, hand to her mouth. She was shocked that the dress wasn't plain white, a little decorative piping, maybe a velvet doodad here or there. The dress was the palest blue silk, gathered right under the b.r.e.a.s.t.s and draping in long, soft folds. A sheer overlay covered the entire dress and tiny embroidered flowers dotted the netting. The neckline was scooped, not too low and edged with froths of lace. The short sleeves were trimmed with deep blue velvet. The real jaw-dropper was the hem. Sprays of flowers inched up from the border, tiny forget-me-nots and lily of the valley embroidered in a repeating pattern that was both delicate and stunning. ”What is this? I thought we were going as peasant girls or something.”
Debbie Mae blinked at her. ”Peasant girls? Did you read the book like I told you?”
”Oh, I forgot about it. I've been busy.” She forgot about the book the moment she'd read the first page and realized it wasn't in the sort of English she used.
”Well, did you even watch that movie yet? You're supposed to be Emma! She dresses impeccably, has great style, and is effortlessly beautiful.”
”I don't have time to watch a six hour special.” She flopped onto Brooks' bed, not caring if she disturbed the old patchwork quilt. The frame let out an alarming creak and she froze. Probably just old wood. Probably nothing to do with the PopTarts she'd been eating every morning for breakfast. She made a mental note to run a little longer tomorrow morning.
”You better get acquainted with the Regency ideas or you're going to stick out like a sore thumb.”
Caroline rolled to her side and propped her head in one hand. She could smell Brooks in this room, his soap and the scent that was only his. ”So everybody's going to be so amazingly in character that I'll look like I was dropped there by aliens?”
”Maybe. Think of it like Brooks and Manning going to a battle. They don't even carry stuff in their pockets that is from the wrong era.”
”Not even a wallet?”