Together, they made what Barney called a relish plate, with different fresh vegetables and dip, slices of cheese and bread, olives, and pickles. Taffeta carried the food out onto the front veranda. Barney brought out two goblets and a bottle of wine.
“I went wild and spent almost fifteen bucks on this vino,” he said as he sat down next to her. “We can roll it over our tongues and lie like rugs about all the different flavors we detect.”
Taffeta grinned. “Sounds like fun to me.” Giving him a sidelong glance as he handed her a glass of ruby liquid, she added, “Remember that tannin and a hint of oak are always safe fibs.”
“A sommelier I’m not,” he confessed with a laugh.
“Where did you learn about sommeliers?”
“A movie I watched. And then after our dinner at Peck’s Red Rooster, I looked it up online. Fascinating stuff. How can people taste a wine and know exactly where it originated, not to mention what year it was made? Blows my mind.”
It was now early May. The afternoon felt almost balmy after the long, hard winter. They relaxed on the comfortable Adirondack chairs and chatted. An occasional vehicle passed by out on the road. Taffeta eyed a gnarly old oak that had long ago taken root among the pines. With limbs thick and sturdy, it would be a great tree to support a tire swing. She could almost see Sarah pumping her legs as she sailed back and forth, high into the air.
Barney didn’t touch Taffeta. Their chairs sat a foot apart. But she still felt close to him, as if the sheer strength of his muscular body transcended space to embrace her in its warmth. When they had finished the bottle of wine and nibbled away nearly half of the relish plate, they both stood and walked languorously into the house. No words between them were necessary. They headed for his room and the king-size bed.
Gazes locked, they stood facing each other as they undressed. She knew their lovemaking would be incredible. Every time they were together, she marveled. It just kept getting better and better between them. Barney knew exactly where and how to touch her. She was learning his body as well. Every intimate encounter they had was magical and beautiful, a physical communion that surpassed anything Taffeta had ever imagined.
Later when they lay sated in each other’s arms, Barney asked, “Do I think everything to death?”
The question made her smile against his shoulder. “Yes,” she said softly. “And I’m glad you do. I know exactly where I stand with you. You don’t play games or say anything you don’t mean. It’s one of the things I admire most about you.”
He sighed, toying absently with a strand of her hair. “Do I frustrate you half to death?”
Taffeta giggled and playfully nipped his neck. “The very last thing I feel is frustration. Being with you, making love with you—well, I’m more content now than I’ve ever been in my life.”
He ran his hand lightly over her arm, making all her nerve endings sing. “I think I’m in love with you,” he whispered. “But what if I’m wrong?” He rolled onto his side to cup her face between his hands, his gaze solemn and searching. “We haven’t known each other that long. Can people really fall in love so quickly?”
“I can only speak for myself, Barney. I think I fell in love with you the first time I ever saw you.”
This time he didn’t argue or act as if he didn’t believe her. “Did it frighten you?”
Taffeta thought back. “At first, it didn’t. I only fantasized about you, and I didn’t see how I could get into very much trouble doing that.”
“Until I saw you shadow dancing.” He trailed a thumb over her cheekbone, touching her as if she were made of fragile glass. “Were you dancing with me that night? In your fantasy, I mean.”
Taffeta felt as if she were stripping herself bare, but he’d asked the question, and she couldn’t deny him an answer. “Yes. You startled me half out of my wits when you knocked on my door and told me it was you. It’s kind of creepy when fantasy and reality collide.”
He grinned. “You were so stinkin’ cute, wearing that sexy slip and holding a frying pan high. When do you plan to make your fantasy become a reality?”
“What do you mean?”
His grin turned devilish. “When are you going to dance with me, wearing only that slip?”
Taffeta giggled. “For real? I guess anytime.”
“Now?” he asked softly. His gaze heated on hers. “I can’t imagine anything sexier than letting fantasy and reality collide in my living room.”
Barney left her to pull on his boxers and turn on the stereo. Taffeta freshened up and slipped into the chemise. She felt a little silly when she reached the front of the house and started to dance with Barney. He seemed more interested in watching her than he was in moving his feet. This was the first time she’d ever purposely danced dirty for an audience, even if it was only one man.
She needn’t have worried. Her performance didn’t last long before Barney swept her up into his arms and carried her back to his bed.
• • •
The following Wednesday, Barney came home from work, and within minutes Bryan Vorch called on the house phone in order to speak to both of them on the speaker. He said that the Oregon Court of Appeals had reviewed her case, deemed it worthy of a hearing, and was going to schedule a date. Having just put a loaf of sourdough in the oven for its second rise, Taffeta straightened from closing the door and turned to look at her husband.
“When?” she asked Bryan as she moved closer to the phone. “Soon, I hope.”
“I’m sorry, Taffeta. It’ll be in late June, if we’re lucky. But that’s really quick, considering, and the date may be changed. You need to focus on the fact that the court will hear your case. Appeals are denied all the time.”
After Bryan hung up, Barney looked so solemn that it alarmed her. “Isn’t that great news?” She heard a shrill note in her voice. “My appeal wasn’t denied. My hearing is going to be scheduled. We’re finally moving forward.”
Barney nodded. “Yes, we are, possibly a little faster than you’re prepared for. It’s time for you to contact Sarah’s grandparents and request a meeting.”
A jolt of fear shot through her. “Now?”
“Now.”
Taffeta knew that the timing for that was perfect. Earlier that day, her investigator had called. He’d reported that Sarah was still with her grandparents and Phillip was avoiding his folks’ house. He’d also told her that Grace Gentry was just ending a break between chemo treatments and would start the next round on Friday. She would still be feeling halfway good well into next week and possibly longer. The side effects of chemo didn’t normally get bad with the first or second infusion.
Even so, she could feel herself trembling with a sudden rush of nerves. “Oh, Barney. I don’t know if I have the guts to call them. They probably hate me.”
“Or they still love you, as you do them, and they’ve come to realize that they did you a terrible disservice by believing Phillip’s lies.” He curled his arms around her. Taffeta always felt stronger—and safer—when she was in his embrace. “I’ll be right here with you when you call. We’ll give it thirty minutes so the dinner hour is over. If it gets nasty on the phone, I’ll make love to you afterward until you’re mindless and forget all about it.”
Taffeta watched the clock, wishing she could just get it over with. But Barney was right about waiting. In the past, Grace had always insisted that dinner be served at six sharp. It would be impolite to call when they were eating, and Grace was a stickler on good manners.
When at last the clock read seven, Taffeta’s palms went wet as she dialed the number.
Cameron answered, “Hello, Gentry residence.” In the background, Taffeta could hear her daughter’s sweet voice. The sound cut through her like a knife. “Hello?” Cameron repeated.
She collected herself and said, “Hi, Cameron. This is Taffeta.”
Her ex-father-in-la
w said nothing for a second that seemed to last a small eternity. Taffeta half expected him to hang up. She groped wildly for Barney’s hand, found it, and clung to his fingers as if they were a lifeline.
“Hello, Taffeta,” Cameron finally said. “It’s great to hear your voice. You are often in our thoughts.”
“You’re both often in mine as well.” Taffeta swallowed to keep her voice steady. “I, um, was wondering if you and Grace would consider meeting with me for a conversation. I’m willing to visit your home if that will be easier for Grace, or we can meet somewhere on neutral ground.”
“What’s on your mind, Taffeta?”
That was Cameron, just as she remembered him, always direct and to the point. She needed to be just as candid with him. He was a barracuda in the courtroom and had no patience with people who beat around the bush. “I never harmed Sarah,” she said, her voice quivering. “Phillip lied about me on the stand. I’ve filed for an appeal, and my case has been accepted. I should soon have a hearing date. I hope to get my conviction overturned and get custody of my daughter again.”
“I wish you the best of luck with that,” Cameron said. “And I’m sure Grace will feel the same way when I tell her. But how does that involve us?”
Taffeta clung tighter to Barney’s hand. “I’m very concerned about my little girl. I’ve heard of Grace’s health problems. I am so sorry about that, by the way. I know Grace is far too ill to care for Sarah right now. I also know that Phillip had Sarah for a while, took lousy care of her, and left her with unsavory individuals.”
“Sarah is back with us now,” Cameron said. “She’s perfectly safe. You don’t need to worry.”
“I know that she’s safe for now, Cameron, but will she remain safe? At any moment, Phillip could show up and demand that you hand her over to him. If that occurs, you’ll be powerless. The law in Oregon gives you no rights as grandparents. I feel that Sarah would be safer from her father if I were the custodial parent.”
Cameron said nothing for a moment. That told Taffeta that the man didn’t believe Phillip was above coming back for the child.
“Let me speak with Grace, Taffeta, and call you back,” he said.
Taffeta dug her nails into the phone, not wanting the connection to be broken. She could still hear Sarah’s voice in the background. But the line went dead.
Lowering the phone from her ear, she buried her face against Barney’s chest. His strong arms came around her. “He said he’ll talk to Grace and call me back,” she said. “Only what if he doesn’t?”
“Hey, he heard you out. Your point about Phillip coming back for Sarah is valid. The man isn’t stupid. I’m pretty sure he’ll keep his word and call you, even if it’s only to tell you to get lost.”
• • •
All Barney could do was hold Taffeta tightly in his arms while they waited for the call. With every passing second, his heart hurt for her even more. Her love for her daughter was written all over her face. If Sarah’s grandparents refused to meet with her, Barney knew it would tear her apart. He could only pray that didn’t happen.
When the cell phone finally rang, Taffeta jerked as if someone had touched her with a red-hot brand. She clamped one hand over her mouth for a second and then answered on the third ring.
Barney leaned in close so he could hear Cameron’s side of the conversation.
“I’ve talked with Grace,” he said. “We’re willing to meet with you. Can you be in Erickson by midmorning tomorrow? Both Grace and I feel that the conversation should take place in our home while Sarah is away at school.”
“We can be there,” Barney whispered. “Say ten o’clock?”
Taffeta said into the phone, “I can make it there by ten, if that works for you and Grace.”
“Ten will be great.”
“Will you mind if my husband accompanies me?” Taffeta asked.
“Of course not. Bring him along,” Cameron said. “What is the man’s name? I didn’t know that you had remarried.”
“His name is Barney Sterling. He’s a county deputy in Mystic Creek.”
“Please convey to him that he will be more than welcome.”
After a brief farewell, Taffeta broke the connection. “He said yes!” she cried. “Yes, yes, yes! They must not hate me after all.”
“Of course they don’t.” Barney couldn’t see how anyone could hate Taffeta. She had a heart of pure gold. “This is fabulous, honey.”
• • •
Taffeta was so preoccupied that she forgot the bread rising in the oven and proofed it for too long. Barney helped her finish fixing dinner and clean the kitchen. Then he took her to bed and made love to her, clearly trying his best to take her mind off everything but him. It worked—for as long as the sex lasted. But when he fell asleep next to her, Taffeta couldn’t follow him into slumber.
Not wishing to disturb him with her tossing and turning, she slipped from bed and went to the living room. She stared out the window into the darkness, her mind racing with possibilities that filled her with dread.
She had no idea how long she’d been standing there, mere minutes or hours. But suddenly strong, warm arms came around her waist from behind.
“Oh, Barney!” she cried. “You startled me half out of my wits.”
He didn’t ask what was troubling her. Instead he said, “Taffy, you can only trust in God. It sounds to me as if Phillip’s parents are good people. At least they agreed to talk with you, and they know in advance what the discussion will be about. That’s a very positive sign.”
Taffeta turned in his embrace to hug his neck. His arms tightened around her.
“No matter what happens,” he whispered, “I want you to remember one thing. I love you with all my heart. If you can’t regain custody of Sarah, at least you can count on always having me.”
Tears streamed down Taffeta’s cheeks. Barney. Trust him to choose the perfect moment to finally tell her that he loved her.
“And all won’t be lost if Sarah’s grandparents refuse to support you,” he said. “Bryan Vorch feels confident that he can get your conviction overturned. Once that happens, you can fight for custody in court. I can’t imagine any judge ruling against you. At that point, it’ll be clear to everyone involved that Phillip lied on the stand. In fact, they may press charges against him for perjury.”
Taffeta released a taut breath, and for the first time since she had been arrested and forcibly removed from her daughter’s bedside at the hospital, she felt confident that she would one day get Sarah back. Maybe not immediately, but once she did, her daughter would be safe at her side. While she waited, she would love Barney Sterling with every fiber of her being.
Chapter Nineteen
Barney normally wore civilian clothes while off duty, but the following morning, he dressed in his uniform. After flashing a sheepish grin at Taffeta when he entered the kitchen, he said, “I want to put my best foot forward.” He shrugged. “That isn’t to say everyone respects lawmen or believes they are squeaky clean. Cameron Gentry has undoubtedly already done a background check on me, though, and I know he found nothing bad. At seventeen, I wrecked my pickup. I lost control on an icy curve and rolled it. The officer at the scene put it on record that I wasn’t speeding, no alcohol or drugs were involved, and he deemed it to be an unavoidable accident. Other than that, I’ve had no blemishes on my record, not even a speeding ticket.”
“I never for a moment thought otherwise,” Taffeta assured him.
She’d chosen to wear gray slacks and a matching blazer over a black silk blouse. This was how she’d once dressed during her marriage to Phillip, and she hoped Grace would approve. Styles had surely changed since Taffeta’s arrest, but the slacks and blazer sported a classic cut and didn’t look too dated.
Taffeta was so nervous during the drive to Erickson that she squirmed on the seat. Barney tried to distract her with
a sing-along, but she couldn’t get into it, and he finally turned off the stereo.
Memories slapped her in the face at every turn after they entered Erickson. This was her hometown. She’d grown up here, moving from one foster home to another. She’d attended school here, lost her virginity here, and had also made the worst mistake of her life here by believing she was in love with Phillip and marrying him. Correction. Maybe she’d been stupid to hook up with Phillip, but she should never think of her marriage to him as a mistake. She’d gotten her daughter, Sarah, because of that union, and she would never think of her little girl as being anything but a precious gift.
Barney used his cell phone navigation app to find the Gentry home. It looked exactly as Taffeta remembered it, a stately residence with old money written all over it. The pillared front porch was massive, adorned with only sculptured miniature shrubs in marble pots. As a teenager, she’d been wide-eyed with awe when she first saw it, and she’d been even more incredulous that someone as important and well connected as Phillip had even given her a second look, let alone asked her to marry him. Now Taffeta understood that fancy trimming didn’t make the man.
Barney held her hand as they ascended the curved steps to rap the door knocker. Taffeta smiled when he removed his hat so he wouldn’t forget to take it off after stepping inside.
Cameron answered the summons. He’d aged since Taffeta last saw him and grown thicker around the middle. His dark brown eyes seemed faded with time. His gray hair had gone thin. He had always looked bigger than life to her. Now he seemed diminished.
He guided them into the spacious living room, which was well appointed, as always, with rich tapestry curtains draped back over white sheers, a grand piano in one corner, and gorgeous, framed originals adorning the walls. But the other furnishings were now less grand. The antique horsehair settee that Taffeta remembered had been replaced with two well-cushioned, leather sectionals with reclining seats. Apparently, as they aged, Grace and Cameron had decided to forfeit grandeur for comfort.