have gone all day without mentioning that sorry subject. “Look, I’m not my dad. I’m not hanging out in the bars every night and getting so drunk that I can’t work. I still put in ten-hours-plus a day down at the clinic. I see no harm in having a drink now and then. Nothing better to do.”
Sam shook his head. “Man, this isn’t like you at all. You’ve always been a scrapper, ready to fight for what you want. You’re never gonna get her back if you just sit around feeing sorry for yourself.”
The chance that Rachel was going to come back grew slimmer every day. “I can’t make her do something she doesn’t want to do. And right now she doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.”
His friend sat quietly for a few moments before he said, “Tell you what. Chase gets off patrol at seven. We’ll pick you up and do a little night fishing at Potter’s Pond. That way you’ll have something to do, at least tonight.”
Matt could see several flaws in that plan. “First of all, Rachel’s dad owns that place, and if he knows I’m there, he’s going to have me hauled into jail. Secondly, I can’t imagine your fiancée and Chase’s wife letting you take off for a fishing expedition without them. Lastly, I’m not interested in fishing today.”
Sam held up his hand and counted down, one finger at time. “First of all, Wainwright isn’t going to know we’re there, and if he finds out, we’ll have the law with us. Secondly, Savannah’s making an afternoon trip to Memphis with Jess and your wife to take care of some wedding stuff. Lastly, you need to get out of this house even if you don’t want to bait a hook.”
Matt could just imagine the conversation going on between Rachel and her friends. No doubt he was the featured topic. “I’ll think about it.”
Sam pushed back from the table and stood. “I’m not taking no for an answer. We’ll be here around seven-thirty. Just bring your pole, and Chase can take care of the bait. I’ll bring the hot dogs.”
Maybe getting out of the house for a little male camaraderie wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. It did beat trying to find something decent on TV, or staring at the ceiling, wondering how everything had gone so wrong. “Okay, but I’ll meet you there on the chance the fish aren’t biting.”
“It’s April. They’ll be biting.”
“I’m still going to bring my truck.” In case his friends took it upon themselves to lecture him about saving his marriage. “And I’ll bring the beer.”
Sam frowned. “Are you sure that’s such a good idea?”
Damn if the guy wasn’t treating him like some worthless reprobate. “We’ve always had beer on hand before. I’ll only bring a six-pack. That’s two apiece. No one’s going to get drunk on that.”
“Fine. Only two apiece. That’ll keep us all out of hot water.”
Maybe for Sam and Chase, but not Matt. He’d been up to his ears in hot water with his wife for weeks. Tonight he planned to relax and forget all about his problems. Forget that Rachel had left him high and dry. Forget that he harbored a four-month-old secret that kept him drowning in guilt. A secret that could destroy everything, especially the woman he loved.
* * *
BABIES EVERYWHERE SHE TURNED.
Even in a wedding salon, Rachel Boyd couldn’t escape the reminders of what she’d lost four months ago. A woman pushing a stroller down the sidewalk had just stopped before the picture window, leaned over and picked up a precious baby girl. The infant appeared to be around the same age Caleb would have been had he lived. But he hadn’t, and each day without him renewed her pain. Every moment without his father had been just as painful.
This was also the last place to forget her faltering marriage. The small boutique was filled to the max with giddy brides-to-be looking forward to their future. She, on the other hand, had no idea what her future might bring. But for the sake of one of her best friends, she pretended to be enjoying the outing.
Rachel glanced at the dressing-room door, anxiously awaiting Savannah’s appearance in her newly altered wedding gown. After a few more minutes ticked off, she regarded Jess, her other best friend and former sister-in-law, who seemed to be nodding off in the purple paisley chair. “What is taking her so long?”
Jess opened her eyes and hid a yawn behind her hand. “I have no idea. I swear it took me less time to plan my whole wedding.”
Considering Jess had pulled the New Year’s ceremony together in just short of three days, Rachel had to agree. “If she doesn’t come out soon, I’m going in there.”
Her friend yawned again. “I’m right behind you.”
She wouldn’t be surprised if Jess fell asleep on the way to see about the bride. “You need to tell your husband to lay off and let you get some rest.”
Jess grinned. “Why would I do that when I’m married to a gorgeous, sexy guy like Chase? But seriously, my fatigue has a lot to do with the school year ending in less than two months. Try containing twenty-two second graders who have summer vacation on their minds. It’s a good thing I like kids.”
Rachel liked kids, too. A lot. Yet it didn’t seem to be in the cards for her to have one of her own. As usual, the soul-deep sadness returned, and the nagging tears weren’t far behind.
Fortunately, Savannah emerged from the dressing room, providing a much-appreciated distraction, and a little nip of envy. Rachel had worn a simple Sunday-best white dress on her wedding day, not a formfitting, satin, halter-style gown with a silver beaded sash at the waist. Funny, that hadn’t mattered way back then, so it certainly shouldn’t matter now. For some reason, it did.
Savannah stepped in front of the three-way mirror and twisted her blond hair back at her nape. “So what do you two think?”
Rachel managed a generous smile around the memory barrage of her own simple wedding. “You look dazzling, girlfriend.”
“Sam is going to have a stroke when he sees you in that,” Jess said. “Guess I better brush up on my CPR skills.”
Savannah turned and looked over a shoulder to study her reflection, then frowned. “Are you sure it doesn’t make my hips look too wide?”
Jess rolled her eyes. “What hips? If you want to see a butt, step aside and let me in front of that mirror. We’ll make a comparison.”
“Enough about butts,” Rachel said. “Are we finished with everything here?” She hadn’t meant to sound so cross, but she truly needed to get away from “wedding central.”
Jess checked her watch. “It’s almost six and I’m starving. We should have dinner while we’re in Memphis. They have some fantastic restaurants on Beale Street.”
Rachel only wanted to go home, not wade through the masses out for a good time on a Saturday night. “I’m wearing jeans, which isn’t really appropriate dinner attire. And isn’t your husband expecting you to be back by now?”
“We’re all wearing jeans,” Jess said. “We don’t have to go to a four-star restaurant, and my husband is on deputy duty until seven, not to mention we haven’t been apart since we married. You know what they say about absence and the heart growing fonder.”
