The Dixie Virgin Chronicles: Belinda (Book 1) Read online

  “You walked from the bus station?”

  “Every step of the way. I don’t believe in hitchhiking. Too many bad things can happen to a woman that way.”

  She smiled again, that unexpectedly innocent smile that set off gold lights in the center of her dark eyes. Then she bent over her lemonade.

  The children lost interest in the grown-ups and scampered across the lawn, playing tag. Reeve stayed on the sidewalk with Belinda Diamond, keeping his children in sight.

  He had the uneasy sense of having opened Pandora’s box. It was unlike him to carry on conversations with strangers, and it was even more unusual for him to be interested in their lives. What was there about this young woman that intrigued him so?

  All he knew was that he had to find out why she had walked from the bus station and why she was wearing high-heeled shoes and a dress with artificial flowers on the shoulders.

  “Do you have a particular destination in mind, Miss Diamond?”

  “I’m headed for the big time. I mean, if a woman leaves everything she has behind except her clothes and she even dresses for the occasion, don’t you think she should expect good things to happen?”

  “That sounds reasonable.”

  “You sure do talk fancy, Mr. Lawrence. High-class like.”

  “Why don’t you call me Reeve, and then perhaps I won’t seem so lofty.”

  “Well, if that’s not the bee’s knees.” Her hand shot out again, and she pumped his enthusiastically up and down. “You can call me Belinda, and we’ll be friends.”

  How long had it been since he’d had time for friends? Since Sunny’s death his life had consisted of managing his business and taking care of his children. The first had been no problem; in fact, it had been his salvation in the long days of grieving. But the second had been a constant battle. With nannies coming and going and Quincy being overindulgent and the children growing and changing every day, his personal life was totally out of control, spiraling downhill like a snowball, growing bigger and more cumbersome with each roll.

  Standing there in the late-afternoon sun with Belinda’s slim hand in his, he suddenly felt humble and very, very grateful. She made life seem so simple. Here I am, and here you are, her handshake indicated to him. So let’s befriends.

  “You are an unusual woman, Belinda.”

  “Oh—you mean the dress.” He didn’t, but he saw no reasons to contradict her. She smoothed the cheap skirt over her slim hips and patted the spray of flowers. “I’ve been wanting this dress for I don’t know how long. And I just up and decided, why not? Why not get fancied up and go to Tupelo looking like somebody. You know what I mean. Somebody important and worthy.”

  He found himself staring at her and not being able to turn away. A dozen things he should say floated through his mind. “You are important and worthy,” he could say. But she had wise eyes, and probably a wise heart. She’d know he was being shallow. And she had said he’d be her friend. Real friends were sincere and honest with each other.

  “I wish you the best of luck in your new venture, Belinda.”

  She set the empty cup back on the table. “It’s going to be a big adventure, all right, making my place in this brand-new town. See, I’m through being a traveling woman. I’m settling down here for good. Won’t that be just grand?”

  She smiled at him, and he knew he was being called upon to say something. There were no words adequate enough for Belinda’s great expectations. Reeve spent a moment pondering his response, and in the end he merely reached for her hand once more and shook it solemnly.

  “Well... good luck,” he said. He felt foolish repeating himself, but he need not have worried that Belinda would take offense. She picked up her suitcase, gave him a jaunty wave and started up the street, tilting a little under the weight of all her possessions.

  He stood watching her walk away, mesmerized by the absolute dignity of a woman who had so little but still found life so grand.

  “Daddy... Daddy!” His children finally caught his attention by tugging on his sleeves.

  “How come that nice lady is walking, Daddy?”

  “I don’t know, Mark.”

  “Where is she going, Daddy?”

  “I don’t know that, either, Betsy.”

  Belinda had reached the end of the block, and as she rounded the corner, she looked brave and magnificent, walking off into the sunset in her red high-heeled shoes.

  “Let’s clean up the lemonade stand and go inside, children. It will soon be dark.”

  Mark took the shoe box and carefully counted the pennies into his pockets. Then he lifted his face up to his father. “Is it safe for that lady to walk in the dark, Daddy?”

  He had warned his children never to leave the house after dark unless he or Quincy accompanied them. He had stressed to them the importance of not taking up with strangers. How could he tell his son that Belinda Diamond was a stranger to them, an adult who was responsible for her own welfare, without seeming callous and uncaring? Being told by Quincy that he had “turned mean” was one thing; but being perceived as heartless by his children was quite another.

  Before he could answer Mark’s question, Betsy piped up with, “What if she gets lost in the dark? Will goblins and haints get her?”

  Goblins and haints? He carefully masked the anger in his voice as he bent over his daughter.

  “There are no such things as goblins and haints, Betsy. Where did you hear those words?”

  “Miss Phepps,” Betsy and Mark chimed together.

  “She said they come out of the dark to punish bad children,” Mark added.

  If he had not already dismissed her, Reeve guessed that he’d have killed her.

  “Miss Phepps was wrong, children. Goblins and haints do not exist. And there is no such thing as bad children.”

  “Not even when I put that frog in her bed?”

  Reeve stifled his laughter. Mark’s prank had upset the entire household, for when she’d discovered the frog Miss Phepps had gone screaming from her room in the middle of the night. Apparently the frog had been content to snuggle under her warm covers unnoticed until she had rolled over on him, pinning him beneath her.

  “What you did was wrong, Mark, but it does not make you bad. Both of you are wonderful children. You are my shining stars.” He ruffled their hair. “And now, let’s finish cleaning up this lemonade business.” He was relieved that he had gotten sidetracked from the issue of Belinda Diamond walking alone in the dark.

  Apparently the children had already forgotten, as well, for Betsy was carefully stacking empty cups together, and Mark was folding up their grocery-bag sign. Suddenly tears formed in Betsy’s eyes, and she tugged on Reeve’s hand.

  “But what if she gets scared in the dark, Daddy?”

  “Who, sweetheart?”

  “That lady with the funny flower on her dress.”

  His children weren’t as easily sidetracked as he had imagined. That knowledge made him both proud and uncomfortable—proud of their bright minds and uncomfortable about having to confront the Belinda Diamond issue again.

  She was already out of sight, but she couldn’t have gone far, not in those high-heeled shoes and carrying that heavy suitcase. What would it hurt to follow her and offer to take her to a motel in his car? Actually he was a bit ashamed of himself for not already having made such an offer. Had he grown so callous that it took two innocent children to remind him that he was a civilized human being?

  “Don’t you children worry about a thing. Daddy’s going to take care of Miss Belinda Diamond.”

  “Really, Daddy? Really?” Betsy jumped up and down.

  “Yes. I’ll go after her in my car and take her to a nice motel for the evening.”

  “She can stay in my room,” Betsy offered.

  “That’s generous of you, sweetheart, but it’s not necessary for her to share your room. Now, let’s go inside and find Quincy.” He picked up the little table and the empty pitcher and led them back to the house.
Inside he summoned Quincy with the intercom.

  “Can you hold dinner for about forty minutes?” he asked her. “I have an errand to run.”

  “He’s going after a lady,” Mark explained.

  “It’s about time,” Quincy said, rolling her eyes heavenward and cupping her hands in supplication.

  “I’ll explain later,” Reeve said.

  He took the black Corvette and went in pursuit of Belinda. She wasn’t hard to find. Her shoes and her suitcase had hampered her progress, so that she was only four blocks from his house. He eased to a stop beside her and lowered the car window.

  “Belinda...”

  She jerked her head around, startled, and then she walked over to him and leaned in the window, smiling.

  “This sure is a fancy car.” She ran her hands along the edges of the window. “I bet it cost an arm and a leg.”

  Reeve was momentarily taken aback, then he laughed. “It certainly did. And a couple of feet, as well.”

  “My, my.” She ran her hands over his car again, all the while leaning so close he was only inches from her seductive little mouth and her dark eyes. His heart kicked hard against his ribs and he was acutely aware of her as a woman. He felt guilty, as if he had betrayed Sunny.

  The silence stretched out between them, and Belinda kept smoothing her hands over his car. The movement was decidedly sensual. Reeve cleared his throat and eased back in his seat to put a little distance between them. My lord, this girl couldn’t be more than twenty-two or three. She hardly even qualified as a woman.

  “I came to offer you a ride to your motel.”

  Belinda cocked her head to one side, studying him, holding the moment and offering it up to him like a long- stemmed rose. She seemed to be weighing her options. Suddenly she grinned.

  “All right. I’m tired of walking, anyhow.”

  Reeve got out of his car and loaded her suitcase into the back seat. Belinda slid into the front seat, bouncing up and down a little to test the springs.

  “This is just grand,” she announced as he slid behind the wheel.

  “Thank you.” He turned the key in the ignition. “Do you have a reservation?”

  “No.” Her bow-shaped lips formed a sexy O when she spoke. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  “I can recommend a few good motels.”

  “Are they cheap?” Belinda fingered the catch on her purse as if that small movement would multiply her funds.

  Reeve’s rescue mission was getting more complicated by the moment. Naturally a woman who had walked from the bus station would be counting pennies. He didn’t know how much money she could afford for a motel, and he guessed that if he offered to pay, her pride would be deeply wounded.

  “I’ll tell you what,” he said. “My house is very large and you are welcome to stay for the night.”

  She didn’t seem as surprised by the offer as he was that he had made it. He supposed that was what happened when you started compromising. First he had caved in to the will of his children and become involved in the affairs of a perfect stranger, and now he was letting that stranger work some kind of spell over him so that he was actually concerned about wounding her pride. The Reeve Lawrence sitting behind the wheel of his Corvette was not the man he knew. Perhaps when he got back home he’d be himself once more.

  “Is this offer legit?” Belinda asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t want you to think I can’t take care of myself.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Or that I go around taking up with strange men.”

  “Never.”

  “Or that I don’t have any money,” she added.

  “Not at all.” He lied, letting her save face.

  “What about your wife? Are you sure she won’t mind if I spend the night?”

  “My wife is... deceased.” Suddenly he had a vision of Sunny sitting beside him, her hair glowing in the dashboard lights. His hands tightened on the wheel.

  “Deceased?”

  Oh, God. She didn’t know what the word meant.

  “Dead,” Reeve said, his voice tight.

  “I’m so sorry.” Belinda reached over and squeezed his arm. When he didn’t respond, she let go. “It’s a deal,” she whispered. “I’ll stay at your house.”

  They drove in silence. His house stood out dramatically on the hillside, ablaze with lights. He parked the car in the garage, then got Belinda’s suitcase. She fell into step beside him, swiveling her head to view his house from all angles. The children catapulted through the front door and met them in the front yard.

  “Daddy, you brought her home!” Mark yelled, obviously pleased.

  “Goody, goody!” Betsy squealed.

  Belinda stood in front of the house, her eyes big with wonder. “Gosh almighty. It’s just like a castle out of a fairy tale.”

  He looked at his house with a new awareness. It had steep gables and an oversized fanlight. Sunny had added a broad veranda, running the length of the front, so the house wouldn’t be so imposing and formidable, she’d said.

  “Do you like fairy tales?” Betsy asked, tugging on Belinda’s hand.

  “They’re my favorite kind of tale.” Belinda linked her other hand with Mark’s, and the three of them went up the steps together, moving ahead of Reeve.

  “Will you read us one?” Mark turned toward Reeve. “Daddy, can she read us a story?”

  “That’s up to her. She’s traveled all day, son, and she might be tired from her journey.”

  “Oh, I don’t ever get tired.” Belinda swung around to look at him. “Life’s too interesting. If I got tired I’d miss half of it.” She smiled at him, then stood on his veranda, surveying her surroundings. “I sure do like this porch,” she said after a while, her voice soft and dreamy. “It would be just peachy with two or three big pots of geraniums scattered around.”

  Reeve imagined his porch abloom with red geraniums. Sunny had loved flowers. When she had gone, it seemed she’d taken all the flowers out of his life, all the color.

  He gazed around his veranda. Maybe he’d get some flowers.

  “Do you like red?” he asked Belinda.

  “It’s just about my favorite color in the whole world.”

  She and the children hurried ahead through his front door, chattering like old friends. He followed along, thinking how it would feel to come home in the evening and be welcomed by red geraniums.

  Reeve set the cardboard suitcase down inside the door and reached for the intercom to call Quincy. Then he changed his mind. Suddenly it became important to him to show Belinda Diamond to her room himself. He wanted to see her first reaction.

  “Betsy, Mark, please go find Quincy and tell her there will be a guest for dinner.” The children raced along the marble floors, laughing and chattering. When they had disappeared he turned to his guest. “I’ll show you to your room.”

  He led her up the curving staircase, guiding her with a hand on her elbow, watching her openly as she grew big-eyed over the chandelier and the carved mahogany railing and even the plush carpet under their feet. He was as pleased as if he’d invented all those lush trappings.

  At the top of the stairs, he turned toward the guest wing, then changed his mind and headed toward his own bedroom wing. There was no need to put Belinda all the way on the other side of the house. What if she need to ask him something and got lost trying to find him? It was much more practical to have her close by. And besides, he wanted to be able to keep an eye on her. She certainly seemed innocent and harmless, and the children liked her. That was always a good sign—children and dogs had great instincts about people.

  He trusted his own instincts, too, but there was always a slight chance that he was wrong. It was best all around to put Belinda Diamond in the bedroom next to his.

  “Here it is,” he said, opening the door to a room done in shades of cream and pale blue. “Your room for the night. It has its own bathroom.”

  “All of this—just for me?” Bel
inda swung around to look at him. “You’re kidding me. Right?”

  “No. This is your room.”

  She walked around, touching the velvet-covered love seat, running her hands down the silk curtains hanging from the bedposts, picking up the gold hairbrush on the vanity. With the hairbrush in her hand, she suddenly tensed, her eyes as alert as a startled doe’s.

  “Where’s your room?”

  “Right next door.”

  “And where will the children be?”

  “Downstairs. My housekeeper, Quincy, has quarters next to theirs.”

  She laid the brush down carefully, then folded her hands together and faced him.

  “I don’t swap my body for favors.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I don’t know what you think of me or what you expect of me, but I’m not the kind of woman who sells herself for one night in a fancy bedroom.”

  “I see,” Reeve said. She was very serious, and he had a hard time keeping a straight face. He was both amused and touched.

  “Just so we get this clear,” she went on, “I don’t take charity and I don’t sleep around—you know, have sex and stuff like that.”

  He rubbed his hand across his mouth to cover his smile.

  “I don’t want any of your favors, Belinda, lovely as they might be.”

  “You don’t?”

  “No.” He opened the closet door and set her cardboard suitcase inside. Then he crossed the room and took her gently by the shoulders.

  “What are friends for if they can’t offer you a night’s lodging?”

  “Okay. I just wanted to make that clear. That’s all.”

  “It’s perfectly clear.” He released her and stepped back. “Dinner will be served at eight. You might want to freshen up before then. I’ll knock on your door when it’s time and escort you to the dining room.”

  She didn’t answer immediately, but went to the bed and ran her hands over the creamy coverlet. Her shiny hair slid over her cheek so he couldn’t see her face. But even so, he knew just how it would look—as bright and glowing as a child’s on Christmas morning.

  With one hand, she held her hair back from her face and smiled at him. “I feel just like a princess in a fairy tale.”