A Bride by Summer Read online

  “Walter, would you stop?” The only person who called Red O’Toole Walter was his wife. Ruby’s mother now joined them downstairs. The freckles scattered across Scarlet O’Toole’s nose gave her a perpetually young appearance, which was at odds with the streaks of gray in her short red hair.

  “It isn’t too late for her to get out of this,” Red said to his wife.

  Scarlet wasn’t paying attention. She was listening to Amanda, who was telling her about the near accident Ruby had witnessed and the driver she’d stopped to help earlier.

  “Was he tall?” Scarlet quizzed her daughter’s best friend.

  “I asked her that, too,” Amanda replied. “That particular detail has not been forthcoming. Yet.”

  Ruby dropped her face into her hands.

  “She needs to come home with us,” her father insisted, as if that was that.

  “She signed the papers,” her mother said dismissively.

  “I don’t like the idea of our little girl serving up hard liquor to a bunch of rowdy m-e-n.”

  Ruby didn’t bother reminding them that she was standing right here.

  “Driving a tow truck you were okay with.” Ruby’s mother had a way of wrinkling up her nose when she was making a rhetorical statement. She demonstrated the tactic, and then said, “She’s only a three-and-a-half-hour drive away.”

  Ruby backed away from the trio—not that any of them noticed—and traipsed to her laptop, where she added another one-of-a-kind drink title to the top of her menu. Kerfuffle. If her life thus far was any indication, this one was going to be a big seller.

  “It’s time for you to go,” she said loudly enough to be heard over the din.

  All three turned to face her.

  “What?” her mother asked.

  “But I’m not finished—” her father grumbled.

  “You’re kicking us out?” Amanda groused.

  Ruby stood her ground. “Thanks for all your help these past two days. I mean that from the bottom of my heart.”

  “You’re asking us to leave?” her six-foot-three-inch father asked incredulously.

  “I’m begging you,” she said.

  “See what you’ve done?” Scarlet said to Red.

  “So I’m worried that my little girl is a barkeeper.”

  Red O’Toole’s little girl was twenty-eight years old and stood almost five foot eleven. But she smiled at him as she rounded the bar to give him a daughterly kiss on the cheek and a heartfelt hug. “The smoke alarm probably just needs a new battery. One burner and a microwave is all I need. I can deal with the leaky faucet, and those steps will be a good workout.”

  Heaving a sigh that seemed to originate from the vicinity of his knees, her father said, “Isn’t there some legal provision that allows you three days to change your mind?”

  “Even if there was a provision like that, I wouldn’t back out of this,” she said gently but firmly. “I like this town and I especially like this bar. I feel a connection to this place. I can’t explain it, but I want to make it a success. It’s going to be a challenge, but I can do this. I know I can.”

  “Don’t worry, dear, you still have me,” Scarlet said to Red. “And Rusty. If you want to worry about one of your children, worry about him. Our daughter’s right. We should be getting back to Gale. She’s going to have plenty to do putting her furniture back the way she had it. Isn’t that right, honey?”

  Ruby pulled a face, for her mother knew her well.

  “Are you coming, Amanda?” Scarlet asked.

  “I rode with Ruby, remember?” Amanda said. “I either have to catch a ride home with you two or take a bus. But nobody’s going anywhere until she answers my question.” She spun around again and faced Ruby. “Details would be good.”

  “Details about what?” Ruby’s innocent expression didn’t fool anybody.

  “What was the guy driving that sweet Mustang like?” Amanda asked, sounding like the kindergarten teacher she was.

  Even Ruby’s father waited for Ruby’s reply.

  “What was he like?” Ruby echoed, seriously considering the question. “Let’s see. He didn’t slam his car door or kick the no-passing sign even though it took out one of his mirrors.”

  She saw the looks passing between her mother and her best friend. There was nothing she could do about what they were thinking.

  “Patient isn’t on my list,” Amanda said, “but it should be. What else?”

  With a sigh of surrender, Ruby said, “He was blond and well dressed and understandably irritated but polite.”

  “And?” Amanda stood up straight, as if doing so would make her less dwarfed by the three tall redheads.

  “And that’s all,” Ruby stated.

  “That’s all?” Amanda echoed.

  “Isn’t that what she said?” her father asked gruffly.

  “But, honey,” Ruby’s mother implored.

  “Was he tall?” Amanda and Scarlet asked in unison.

  Ruby opened her mouth, closed it, skewed her mouth to one side and finally shrugged. “I didn’t notice.”

  “You didn’t notice?” her mother asked gently.

  “But height is always what you notice first,” Amanda insisted.

  “I told you. I’m not interested in finding a man. Maybe I’ll get a dog. Perhaps a rescue with a heartbreaking past and soulful eyes.”

  “You’re bound to run into him again, you know,” Scarlet said, and very nearly smiled.

  “Since you didn’t hear me, I’ll say it again. I’m finished with men. All men. For good.”

  There were hugs all around and a few tears, but those were mostly from her father. Ruby promised her mother she would call. She promised her father she would keep her doors locked. When Amanda reminded her that the reunion was in two weeks’ time, Ruby reluctantly reconfirmed her promise that she would be there, too.

  Finally, she stood in the hot sun in the back alley, waving as her parents and best friend drove away. Alone at last, she returned to the tavern and looked around the dimly lighted room. She had a lot to do, from remodeling to advertising to hiring waitstaff. Already she could see the new Bell’s in her imagination. There would be soft lighting and lively music and laminated menus featuring one-of-a-kind drinks and people talking and laughing and maybe even falling in love. Not her, of course. But friends would gather here, and some of them would become her friends, and all of them would be part of her new life.

  Happiness bubbled out of her. No matter what her father claimed, buying a boarded-up tavern in Orchard Hill wasn’t a mistake.

  She happened to catch her reflection in the beveled mirror behind the bar. Chestnut-red wouldn’t have been her first choice in hair color and she’d never particularly liked her natural curls. Her face was too narrow and her lips too full, in her opinion, but her eyes were wide and green, and for the first time in a long time, there was a spark of excitement in them.

  She hadn’t made a mistake, not this time. Buying this tavern on a whim was the first thing she’d done in too long that was brave and a little wild, like the girl she used to be. She hugged herself, thinking how much she’d missed that.

  Once again, the near accident she’d witnessed replayed through her mind.

  Had the driver of the Mustang been tall?

  Normally she had only to blink to bring the particulars into focus. In this instance her snapshot memory didn’t include that detail.

  Thinking about her history and her recent decision regarding singlehood, she decided to take that as a good sign, and left it at that.

  Chapter Three

  Two hours after her parents and Amanda left, Ruby stood tapping her foot on the sidewalk at the corner of Jefferson and Division Streets. She wasn’t thinking about the quote she’d requested from the electri
cian or the baffling little mystery regarding the sleeping bag folded neatly on one of the pool tables in her tavern. She wasn’t even thinking about the broodingly attractive man she’d encountered on Orchard Highway earlier. Well, she wasn’t thinking about him very much.

  She was thinking that if the walk sign didn’t light soon, she was going to take her chances with the oncoming traffic, because she was starving.

  At long last, the light changed and the window-shoppers ahead of her started across, Ruby close behind them. There was a spring in her step as she completed the last little jaunt to the restaurant at the top of the hill.

  Inside, it was standing room only. People huddled together in small groups while they waited for a table.

  Ruby made her way toward a handwritten chalk menu on the adjacent wall and began pondering her options. The door opened and closed several times as more people crowded into the foyer. Ruby was contemplating the lunch specials when someone jostled her from behind.

  “Sorry about that,” a tall man with a very small baby said, visibly trying to give her a little room.

  Ruby rarely got caught staring, but there was something oddly familiar about the man. He had dark hair and an angular jaw and brown eyes. Upon closer inspection, she was certain she’d never seen him before.

  He eased sideways to make room for someone trying to leave, and Ruby found herself smiling at the baby.

  With a wave of his little arms, the little boy smiled back at her. “He likes you,” the father said.

  “It’s this hair.” She twirled a long lock and watched the baby’s smile grow.

  “You aren’t by any chance looking for a job, are you?” the man asked.

  Voices rose and silverware clattered and someone’s cell phone rang. Through the din she wondered if she’d heard correctly.

  “Provided you have never been arrested, don’t lie, steal, cheat on your taxes or have a library book overdue, that is,” he added.

  She took a step back. “Um, that is, I mean—”

  “Forgive me.” Unlike the baby, this man didn’t appear to be someone who smiled easily. In his mid-thirties, he looked tired and earnest and completely sincere. “It’s just that Joey didn’t take one look at you and start screaming.”

  She took a deep breath of warm, fragrant air and noticed that someone else was entering through the heavy front door. The crowd parted, making room for the newcomer. Suddenly she was standing face-to-face with the man she’d encountered along Old Orchard Highway earlier.

  He looked surprised, too, but he recovered quickly and said, “Hello, again.” He gave her one of those swift, thorough glances men have perfected over the ages. His eyes looked gray in this light, his face lean and chiseled. “I see you’ve met my brother Marsh.”

  Did he say brother?

  She glanced from one to the other. But of course. No wonder the man holding the baby looked familiar. These two were brothers.

  “I’m Reed Sullivan, by the way.”

  Upon hearing the name Sullivan, she said, “Ruby O’Toole. Do you by any chance know Lacey Bell Sullivan?”

  “We’ve known Lacey forever,” Marsh said. “Two days ago she married our younger brother, Noah.”

  “How do you know our new sister-in-law?” This time it was Reed who spoke.

  And she found her gaze locked with his. “I bought Bell’s Tavern from Lacey. I’m a little surprised to run into you again so soon,” she said. “I mean, one chance encounter is one thing.”

  “Is that what this is?” Reed asked. “A chance encounter?”

  His hair was five shades of blond in this light, his skin tan. There were lines beside his eyes, and something intriguing in them.

  Something came over her, settling deeper, slowly tugging at her insides. She couldn’t think of anything to say, and that was unusual for her. Reed’s gaze remained steady on hers, and it occurred to her that he wasn’t talking anymore, either.

  He was looking at her with eyes that saw God only knew what. It made these chance encounters feel heaven-sent, and that made her heart speed up and her thoughts warm.

  In some far corner of her mind, she knew she had to say something, do something. She could have mentioned that she’d met their sister, Madeline, a few months ago, but that made this feel even more like destiny, and that simply wouldn’t do. Someone mentioned the weather, and she was pretty sure Reed said something about the Tigers.

  Normally, the weather and baseball were safe topics. They would have been safe today, but Reed smiled, and Ruby lost all sensation in her toes. Moments ago, the noise in the room had been almost deafening. Suddenly, voices faded and the clatter of silverware ceased.

  Ruby’s breath caught just below the little hollow at the base of her throat and a sound only she could hear echoed deep inside her chest. Part sigh, part low croon, it slowly swept across her senses.

  In some far corner of her mind, she was aware that Marsh said something. He spoke again. After the third time, Reed looked dazedly at his brother.

  “Our table’s ready,” Marsh explained.

  It took Ruby a moment to gather her wits, but she finally found her voice. “It was nice meeting you,” she said to Marsh.

  Her gaze locked with Reed’s again. She wasn’t sure what had just happened between them, but something had. She’d heard about moments like this; she’d even read about them, but she’d never experienced one quite like it herself. Until today.

  After giving him a brief nod, she wended her way through the crowded room toward the counter to order her lunch to go. Initially she’d planned to wait for a table. Instead, she fixed her eyes straight ahead while her take-out order was being filled. All the while, her heart seemed intent upon fluttering up into her throat.

  It was a relief when she walked out into the bright sunshine, the white paper bag that contained her lunch in her hand, her oversize purse hanging from her shoulder. Dazedly donning a pair of sunglasses, she hurried down the sidewalk. She’d reached the corner before the haze began to clear in her mind. Up ahead, two young girls were having their picture taken in front of the fountain on the courthouse square and several veterans were gathered around the flagpole.

  Ruby skidded to a stop and looked around. Where was she?

  She glanced to the right and to the left, behind her at the distance she’d come, then ahead where the sun glinted off the bronze sculpture on the courthouse lawn. With rising dismay, she shook her head.

  She was going the wrong way.

  * * *

  “Care to tell me what you’re doing?” Marsh asked Reed after the waitress cleared their places.

  Decorated in classic Americana diner style, the Hill had its original black-and-white tile floors, booths with chrome legs and benches covered in red vinyl. Other than the menu, which had been adapted to modern tastes and trends, very little had changed. The Sullivans had been coming here for years. This was the first time they’d brought a baby with them, however.

  Reed double-checked the buckles on Joey’s car seat. The baby’s head was up, his feet were down and the straps weren’t twisted. Ten days ago he hadn’t known the correct way to fasten an infant safely into a car seat. That first week had been one helluva crash course for all three of them, but now Reed could buckle Joey into this contraption with his eyes closed. He could prepare a bottle when he was half asleep, too. Even diaper changing was getting easier.

  Sliding to the end of his side of the booth, he said, “I’m buckling Joey into this car seat. What does it look like I’m doing?”

  “You noticed nothing unusual here today?” Marsh countered in a quiet voice strong enough to penetrate steel.

  “If you have a point, make it. I don’t have time to play Twenty Questions,” Reed declared.

  “You don’t seem concerned that the judge joined us for lunch,” Marsh
said, digging into his pocket for the tip.

  Ivan Sullivan was one of those men few people liked but most couldn’t help respecting.

  After discovering Joey on their doorstep ten days ago, Marsh, Reed and Noah had paid their great-uncle a visit at the courthouse. An abandoned minor child was no laughing matter, and no one had been laughing as the brothers fell into rank in the judge’s chambers. The note clearly stated that Joey was a Sullivan, and they’d had every intention of caring for him themselves while they unraveled this puzzle. In order for Joey to remain under their care, they were to keep the judge apprised of Joey’s progress in detailed, weekly in-person reports.

  Reed glanced over the heads of other diners and watched his great-uncle cut a path to the door. The way the aging judge tapped his cane on the floor with his every step only added to his haughtiness. Today’s interrogation had been impromptu, but it was completely in keeping with his character. Surely, Marsh agreed.

  His older brother left the tip on the table and Reed picked up the car seat with Joey strapped securely inside. Showing up in public with the baby had been the private investigator’s suggestion. Arguably the most successful P.I. in the state, Sam Lafferty was banking on the possibility that seeing Marsh and Reed with Joey would stir up a little gossip and perhaps jar someone’s memory of having seen an unknown woman with a small baby in the area.

  “We’re doing our best to care for Joey,” Reed insisted. “The judge knows that. We leveled with him today.”

  “We?” Marsh countered. “He asked what steps we’re taking to locate Joey’s mother and why we haven’t hired a permanent nanny and how much Joey weighs and where he sleeps. You, who can outtalk most politicians, barely said boo.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Reed argued.

  “That a fact?”

  Reed narrowed his eyes at his brother’s tone. And waited.

  “You ordered the salmon,” Marsh said offhandedly.

  “That was salmon?” Reed asked.

  Marsh slanted him a look not unlike the judge’s. “You had meat loaf. It arrived with a loaded baked potato just the way I ordered it. Shelly mixed up our plates. You dug into my lunch the moment she set it in front of you.”