The Liar

Dancing with her father, who pulled out some of the ballroom moves he’d retained from when Ada Mae had nagged him into lessons. And her grandfather, who swung her into some clogging—and there her muscle memory wasn’t as keen as his—when the band kicked it up a few licks. With Clay, who hadn’t inherited any rhythm at all, and with Forrest, who’d taken Clay’s share of it.

“How’d you get in here?” she asked Forrest. “You’re not wearing a tux or even a suit and tie.”

“It’s the badge.” He circled her in a smooth two-step. “I told Miz Bitsy I was on duty.”

“Are you?”

He only grinned. “I consider myself always on duty, and I haven’t worn a monkey suit since senior prom. I hope to continue that winning streak.”

“Nobby’s wearing one.”

“He is, but he swore to back me up on the on-duty excuse.”

“What’d you bribe him with?”

“A fancy coffee and a couple bear claws fresh from the bakery.”

She laughed, circled with him.

“You look as good as it gets tonight, little sister.”

“I feel as good as it gets tonight, big brother. Look how happy everybody is. Emma Kate could light the place up all on her own.”

“Stealing her back,” Griff said as he cut in.

“I could arrest you for that, but I’ll let it go. There’s a blonde over there who looks like she could use some company.”

Shelby glanced over. “Her name’s Heather. She worked with Emma Kate at the hospital in Baltimore. She’s single.”

“That works.”

Griff drew Shelby in as Forrest wandered toward the blonde. “You’ve got a hit on your hands, Red.”

“I know it.” She slid her hands up his back, pressed her cheek to his. “It feels so good—just like you. I was just saying how happy everybody is. It’s so nice knowing people are happy for Emma Kate and Matt. And Miz Bitsy— Oh, there she goes, tearing up again, and bolting toward the ladies’. I’ll just go take care of that.”

Shelby turned her head, brushed a kiss over his cheek. “It shouldn’t take long—or it could take twenty minutes if it’s a genuine crying jag. I’ll probably appreciate another glass of champagne once I handle this.”

“I’ll make sure it’s waiting.”

She started for the doors, and the restrooms beyond them. And pulled out her phone when it rang.

“Miz Suzannah? Is everything all right?”

“It’s nothing much, honey. It’s just Callie forgot Fifi, and she’s heartbroken. We didn’t realize it until we were getting them into bed. I’ve tried substitutes, but she’s just set on her Fifi.”

“I don’t know how I could’ve sent her off to you without Fifi. We don’t want her first overnight spoiled. I’ll just run to the house and get Fifi, drop her off. It won’t take fifteen minutes for me to get there.”

“I’m so sorry to interrupt and cause you that trouble. My Bill would go get the dog, but I know your mama’s been locking up.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m on my way now. Tell Callie I’m bringing Fifi.”

She spotted Crystal on her way to the ladies’. “I’ve got a favor to ask. Miz Bitsy’s in there, crying a little, just happy, you know how it is, and emotional. I’ve got to run get Fifi for Callie. Could you just soothe Miz Bitsy—or ask Granny to—and let Griff know, if you see him, I’ll be back in under a half hour.”

“Sure, I will. You want me to go get Fifi?”

“Thank you, but I’ll be quick.”

“Oh, here! I meant to give you this at the salon. The lipstick I used on you.”

“Thank you, Crystal. Keep this party going!”

“You can count on me.”

Hurrying off, Shelby shoved the lipstick in her right pocket, the phone in her left. She cast her mind back to packing for Callie. She knew she’d had Fifi right there, but . . .

She saw it now, Callie picking up the stuffed dog to talk to it about their sleepover.

And carting the dog with her when she’d followed her mama into the other bedroom.

“On the windowsill,” she remembered. How she’d overlooked that, she’d never know.

That was all right—she’d be back again before anyone missed her. And Callie and Fifi would be reunited.

She cut around town as a Saturday night in the summer could be busy, and made it to the house in under ten minutes. Grateful for the low heels, she ran for the door. They’d scheduled her song for midway through the evening, so she had thirty minutes to spare. But no more.

She dashed straight upstairs, into her bedroom.

“There you are, Fifi. I’m so sorry you got left behind.” She plucked the much-loved dog off the windowsill, turned to rush right back out again.

And he stepped into the doorway. The dog slipped out of her numb fingers as he moved toward her.

“Hello, Shelby. Long time, no see.”

“Richard.”

His hair was dark, a deep, unfamiliar brown, and fell in careless waves well over his collar. Thick scruff covered the lower half of his face. He wore a camo T-shirt and rough khaki pants with scarred army boots. A combination he wouldn’t have been caught dead in.

Oh God.

“They—they said you were dead.”

“They said what I wanted them to say. It didn’t take you long to go running back home, and spreading your legs for some carpenter. Did you cry for me, Shelby?”

“I don’t understand.”