Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
“Buck Buckley?” he asked, leaning closer. “Is that you all grown up?”
“You know who I am?” I asked, taken aback. He was looking at me with a combination of joy and disbelief.
“If you’re Buck Buckley, I do. Your daddy was one of my best friends.”
I squinted at him, shaking my head even as I held out my hand. “I go by Forrest now. Forrest Powell. But I don’t—” I started to say I didn’t remember him, but that bushy mustache tickled the back of my mind, and I said, without thinking, “Your mustache used to be red.”
He let out a guffaw, tipping his head back. “Damn right, it did. The red leaked out of my mustache and my hair a good ten years ago. Men in my family always go white early. Now, my Sugar Mae— Not a streak of white on that head, and it has nothing to do with her monthly trips to the beauty parlor.” He winked at me, and I found myself grinning back.
“Sugar because she likes to bake,” I said slowly, the fragment of memory floating to the surface.
“Mae she was born with, and Sugar for her cookies.” The man took my hand and pumped it up and down with vigor. “She’ll be so glad to see you.”
He held out his hand to Sterling.
“Bob Murrell. I’m an old friend of Buck, uh, Forrest’s. I knew him when he was a little tyke. Are you the fiancée? The Sawyer fiancée,” he clarified. Sterling’s back went stiff. Noticing, he added in explanation, “I ran into Jack Webber in town. He mentioned he’d seen you.” Bob raised an eyebrow, but his smile remained friendly.
Sterling relaxed and smiled back, giving his hand a firm shake. “Sterling Sawyer and I don’t take after my daddy.” She winked, and Bob tipped his head back and laughed.
“I sure as hell hope not. Come on up to the house. Sugar Mae won’t forgive me if I let you get away.”
“Yeah,” I said, not sure where this was heading. “But we have a long drive, so we can’t stay long.”
Bob stopped and turned to face us. The gaze he pinned on me wasn’t unfriendly, but it left no room for negotiation. “Y’all come back to the house.”
“Sure,” I agreed slowly, knowing I was missing something. I glanced down at Sterling and raised an eyebrow.
She shrugged a shoulder and said quietly, “Why not?”
“I parked down the road,” I said. “If we’re going to come in for a visit, I should move the car.” Sterling’s purse was in the car, and I didn’t like not having transportation close by. Just in case.
“No problem,” Bob said with a smile. “I’ll introduce Sterling to Sugar Mae while you get the car.”
That was a no-go. I wasn’t leaving Sterling with a stranger, no matter that I remembered him a little from childhood. I crossed my arms over my chest and shook my head. “We’ll both go.”
“It will only take a few minutes,” Sterling added, leaning into my side with the faintest pressure. She didn’t want me to leave her alone with Bob. He watched us, eyes narrowing until he gave a nod.
“We’ll all go,” he said, pivoting to walk down the gravel drive.
“You really think we’re going to take off?” Sterling asked, falling into step beside Bob. “Forrest will want to see the house at least.”
Bob flashed her a smile. “I’m not willing to take the chance. I haven’t seen him in almost seventeen years. Mae would never forgive me if I let Alan’s boy get away before she can put eyes on him.”
I wanted to believe it was that simple, but my gut said Bob wasn’t telling us everything. I didn’t think we were in any danger, exactly, but I didn’t like being in the dark. We fell silent on the short walk to the overgrown drive where I’d stashed the car. Another few minutes and we were parked in front of the cottage.
“Sugar Mae must be wondering where I disappeared to,” he said to himself. Opening the car door, he got out, turning to us. “Come on. Bet you want to see the inside. We bought it from your mama when she moved out west. We haven’t changed much. Upgraded the furniture. Redid the kitchen. That’s about it.”
I went through the front door to find a trim woman in the kitchen, stirring something in a bowl at the counter. Her brown eyes brightened as she turned to greet her husband, flaring wide with surprise at the two strangers behind him. Then, her mouth curved into a welcome grin.
“Oh, my lord,” she said, her eyes locked on my face. “You are the image of your father. Jack Webber said you’d been in town, but I didn’t dare to hope you’d show up over here.”
She crossed the kitchen and pulled me into a hug. I hugged her back automatically, my head spinning. All I could think was that she smelled the same. Vanilla and sugar.