He raised his palms and grinned. “I made the decision to stay right here in Shamrock a long time ago.”
“Great,” Jorja said, and went back to work. When she had first learned that Nana Irene had brought in Taryn and Anna Rose to live in the trailer with her, she had started a countdown calendar and marked off each day with a red pen. Now she didn’t know how she could ever survive without her little support group.
Chapter Fifteen
The trailer was so quiet that Taryn could hear her own heartbeat, but she couldn’t sleep. She tried imagining a black hole that got bigger and bigger, but that didn’t work. She finally went outside, sat down in the rocking chair, and drew her knees up to her chin. The evening breeze cooled her face, and the full Strawberry Moon lit up the area rather nicely. She remembered asking her grandmother what that kind of moon was and why it was named such a thing. The answer had been that it was the first full moon in June and was called that because it was a time when harvesting began.
The aroma of Clinton’s cologne—a masculine scent that blended the woods, vanilla, and maybe just a hint of coffee beans—wafted across the porch even before he came out of the shadows from behind the van.
“Having trouble sleeping?” he asked as he sat down on the top porch step.
“Little bit,” she answered. “This has been a heck of an emotional day for all of us. I’m sure Linda will throw a real hissy fit about all this. It’s kind of amusing that the only flowers that were ordered were the ones we sent, Forrest’s wreath, Ora Mae’s gorgeous casket piece, and that plant from Linda and Diana.”
“That little bromeliad will kind of pale in comparison to the others, won’t it?” Clinton said with a chuckle.
Taryn nodded. “But it does show just who loved Amos. Have you heard from Rebecca? She should have been there a couple of hours ago.”
“I was hoping you were still awake,” he answered. “Rebecca called about ten minutes ago. I could hear Zoe crying in the background, but Rebecca assured me that the baby was just tired from the long drive. She had put her to bed and propped her bottle on a pillow rather than holding her.”
“How many times have you propped a bottle for that sweet child? Ever?” Taryn’s eyes filled with tears for the umpteenth time that day. “Either I rocked her to sleep or you did. I’m worried, Clinton, that she won’t get the love and care she needs in that situation.”
“Me too”—Clinton nodded again—“but there’s nothing we can do. She is Rebecca’s daughter, and unless Zoe is in danger or is living in unfit surroundings, we are helpless. I want Rebecca to be well and get better—but at the same time, I wish I could adopt Zoe. Does that sound crazy?”
“Not to me,” Taryn answered. “I’m rowing in the same canoe you are when it comes to Zoe.”
“Want to take a walk with me? I’m too antsy to sleep. Maybe we can go up to the convenience store for an ice-cream sandwich?” Clinton asked.
Taryn stood up. “I would love that. A nice walk and ice cream might settle me down enough to sleep.”
Clinton held out his hand and she put hers in it. They walked out to the road, made a left and then a right, and headed up the street. Taryn remembered holding hands with her first boyfriend back when she was about fifteen; that boy’s sweaty hand in hers hadn’t created nearly as many flutters in her stomach—and Clinton’s hand wasn’t the least bit sweaty.
“We’ll be okay,” he whispered.
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Taryn asked.
“Both,” Clinton answered.
They walked along in comfortable silence for another block, and then Clinton asked, “Have you all talked about what you’re going to do about your inheritance?”
“We’ve talked around it, but we all have to have a little while to think about what all it entails. Will you go with us?” Taryn asked.
“Be glad to,” Clinton answered. “I didn’t know either Amos or Ora Mae personally, but I’ll be there for you all.”
Taryn gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “That should set the gossip vines on fire.”
“Why?” Clinton asked.
“When word gets out about those wills,” Taryn answered, “the fact that we closed up shop for the funeral will cause all kinds of rumors. Plus, if you are there with us ...” She hesitated.
“It would be nice if me being there made the women stalking me quit. But I really think that it would bring Jorja some peace to broadcast what happened to her—even maybe put a letter to the editor in the newspaper,” Clinton suggested. “That kind of gossip would override the inheritance story. Who knows? It might even bring some comeuppance to Ford and those boys who were doing the same thing to the girls.”
Taryn slowed down so that they could talk longer. “The headlines would be humiliating for Jorja, but I wonder if Ford has continued to do such ugly things or if he’s repented for all his sins.”
“I can’t even imagine what Jorja has lived with all these years,” Clinton said. “My mind goes to all kinds of scary places when I think about what I could do to a man who does that kind of thing to a woman.”
Taryn stopped in front of the convenience store. “Here we are, and I’m ready for ice cream. This whole day has been an emotional roller coaster that never ends.” She didn’t tell him that just walking down the street of her hometown with his hand in hers didn’t do a lot to slow the ride down.
“Have a seat right there.” Clinton pointed to the park bench in front of the store. “I’ll go get ice cream and root beers, and we’ll talk about something else.”
