Deciding I have no choice but to follow this through, I open the door, take hold of my carry-on, and climb out of the truck.
My shoes sink so far down that mud seeps over the tops and onto my toes. God, I hope it’s only mud. And yes, it’s nearly impossible to keep them hooked on my feet. With each step, the oozing sludge does it’s best to claim them. I trail after Jessamine as she marches toward the house.
And then the dogs come.
Don’t get me wrong, I love dogs! And it’s rare that I’m afraid of one but when three mud covered mongrels come tearing at me like the hounds from hell I have difficulty keeping my wits about me. And my balance.
“Down boys.” Tails wagging, their exuberance would normally be adorable. Maybe sometime in the distant future I’ll look back on this and laugh, but for now, I’m a little distraught.
By the time I’ve been thoroughly greeted and welcomed, I’m covered in mud. So much for looking good for Tucker! So much for my new rose-colored silk blouse and deliciously sexy pencil skirt.
I even find myself welcoming the rain thinking it might clean some of the mud off me.
“Rascal! Mutt! Cody!” Jessamine calls the dogs off after they’ve covered me in wet dog and brownish green sludgy matter. “They won’t hurt you.” She throws me an innocent glance, but laughter lurks behind her gaze. She looks perfectly comfortable in her boots, worn jeans, and comfortable denim jacket.
Gritting my teeth, I trail after her again. I don’t bother trying to drag my carry-on. It would only get stuck in the mud, so instead I clutch it in front of me. Nothing can happen to this baby. It contains my beloved laptop! I feel a little safer clutching it against my chest. Almost like it’s… armor? If nothing else, I know I have one clean change of clothing. Something to wear on the plane home tomorrow, perhaps?
Despite the cloudy sky, despite the mud, the twinkle of my engagement ring catches my eye.
I haven’t even seen him yet. How can I possibly contemplate going home? I pick my way to the door determined to not be run off so easily.
My beautiful Manolo Blahniks are… unrecognizable. When I step in out of the rain I’m in the perfect place. A mudroom! I peel off my ruined shoes and then use my fingers to try to fluff up my hair.
Surely, if Tucker was here, he’d have met me outside.
The Tucker I know would carry me through the mud like a hero in a romance novel.
Catching sight of a towel, I use it to try to brush some of the mud from my clothing but groan inwardly at the futility of my efforts. Streaks of grime run from the tops of my breasts to the bottom of my skirt now.
Barefoot, I figure I’ve procrastinated long enough. As though I’m forcing myself through a haunted house, I push open the second door into a laundry area.
Murmuring voices quiet when the door slams shut behind me. Female voices. With my shoulders back, I stride into a kitchen where I’m met with four suspicious gazes.
Jessamine, of course, and then a handsome woman who must be Tucker’s mother and an elderly looking lady who has to be his grandmother. The fourth woman doesn’t seem to share the family characteristics but can be described as nothing other than a raven-haired beauty. She does not have mascara running down her face, or mud on her shirt. She, in fact, looks perfectly comfortable and more than a little smug.
“Hello?” I twist my mouth into a smile.
Two other, smaller sets of eyes the exact shade as Tucker’s peek out from behind Jessamine. Two little boys.
These cuties must be Little Tuck and Leeland. Oh, my God. They’re miniature Tuckers. Little Tuck, the oldest, puts one hand on the smaller one’s shoulder. At six years old, he already seems protective of his younger brother. Met with only silence from the adults, I turn to the little one. Crouching down, I reach out my hand. “I’m Isabella. Do I look like I’ve been playing in the mud? Rascal, Mutt and Cody sure like playing in the mud.”
Leeland is grinning but Little Tuck’s eyes are nearly as suspicious as the women’s.
“Mutt likes mud.” Leeland’s hand rises to his mouth and he slides his thumb into it.
“He sure does.” I smile but don’t want to overwhelm him. Standing upright again, I turn to face the woman I’m guessing is Tucker’s mom. “You must be Mrs. James?” They’re all staring at me like I’m an alien or something.
She nods. “You might as well call me Maggie.” Tucker must have gotten his eye color from his father. His mother’s are cool and gray. Despite the chill in the air, despite the horrible day I’ve had so far, I’m determined to be amicable.
They don’t know me from Adam and I’m here to marry someone they care for very much. What has Tucker told them about me? I really want them to like me!
“This here is Katherine, Tucker’s grandmother.” Maggie makes the introduction a little grudgingly.
I lean forward and take her cool dry hand in mine. His grandmother does have those deep green eyes. “Katherine?”
“Call me Grandma.” Finally, a genuine smile. “Tucker and the boys aren’t back yet. The rain washed an entire section of fence out. He told us to make you feel at home.”
I’m grateful for one friendly face. I never knew my own grandmother. Either of them.
