Candy-Coated Secrets Read online

  “Break it up, you two. You ain’t married yet.” Aunt Eunice joined us on the porch. Her gaze swept the driveway. “Where’s Roy?”

  Ethan rose and gave her a hug. “He should be here anytime. Had to make a stop.”

  Aunt Eunice frowned. “A person would think getting home to me would be more important.”

  My uncle’s truck pulled in front of the house. Aunt Eunice and Uncle Roy were proud of their twin Chevys. When he stopped in front of us, his grin cut from one ear to the other. Aunt Eunice crossed her arms and glared.

  Her face softened a bit when Uncle Roy emerged from his truck with a dozen red roses. Tears ran down her cheeks when he bowed before her as if she were royalty. “I missed you, Eunice. Lord’s work or not, a month is too long to be away from my girl.”

  “Oh, Roy.” She grabbed the roses and buried her wet face in their petals. Uncle Roy could show Ethan a thing or two in the romance department. He hadn’t brought me anything.

  “My turn.” Ethan approached Roy and helped him to his feet. “Roy Meadows, I’d like to ask you for Summer’s hand in marriage.” He clapped a hand on my uncle’s shoulder. Did I say Ethan lacked in romance? I thought my eyes would bug out of my head at his old-fashioned way of proposing.

  Uncle Roy returned the gesture. “I already gave my blessing, son.” He turned to wink at me. “And my condolences. You’ll have your hands full.”

  Ethan knelt before me and fished in his pocket. My hand fluttered to my face like one of those silly beauty pageant winners fanning at misty eyes. He took my hand in his, his touch warm and gentle. “Summer, I know we’ve spoken about this, but I’ve never really asked you properly.” He held out a black velvet box. “Will you marry me?”

  Lord, catch me. I’m going to fall. I grasped the wooden arm rail of the swing.

  Ethan opened the box to reveal a gold band with diamonds and roses entwined. My breath came in short gasps.

  “Do you like it, Summer? I had it made special.”

  “Oh, Ethan.” My words barely rose above a whisper. I wished my parents were alive to see this. They would’ve loved Ethan. “It’s beautiful. I’d be proud to be your wife. It’s been my dream for as long as I can remember.”

  He whooped as he rose then gathered me in his arms. He whirled, making my world, and my head, spin. “You are my dream, Summer.”

  Aunt Eunice prepared an early dinner before we headed to the fair, and Uncle Roy puttered in his shed. I curled up against Ethan on the porch swing. My heart overflowed with love for him and thanksgiving to God.

  After my adventure the past summer, we’d spoken of marriage in our future. Just speaking of it had been enough for me. But Ethan on bended knee after requesting permission from my uncle was better than any childhood dream. I sighed and snuggled closer, breathing in his musky cologne.

  With a slight push of his foot, Ethan set the swing in motion. “Happy?”

  “I could burst.” My cheeks hurt from the stretch of my smile.

  He tightened his arm around me. “The thought of something happening to my Tinkerbell scares me. I’m afraid I may not always be there when you need me.”

  I lifted my head. “Maybe not, but God will. We need to trust each other to Him. You know that, Ethan. You teach Sunday school.”

  “But I’m also a man.” Ethan kissed my forehead. “One who has now been trusted with a valuable gift.”

  “I’ll be careful. I won’t go looking for trouble.”

  “No, but it usually comes looking for you.”

  He was right. It had a way of finding me, whether I looked for it or not. Was the word tattooed across my forehead, or did I have a sign around my neck that said Come and get me?

  The past summer, I’d actively looked for the culprit responsible for burying a fortune in diamonds beneath my Midnight Blue Rose bush, mainly to prove I wasn’t the empty-headed, pampered girl everyone treated me as. Once it became obvious my family could be endangered, I’d tried to back off. The culprit hadn’t let me. He’d sought me, whispering words of adoration, intending to steal me away from my home and family to make me “his woman.”

  Ethan hadn’t declared his true feelings for me, and I’d backed off to give him space, almost falling for a stranger’s flattering words. It wasn’t until he and Joe had rescued me from my “admirer” that I realized Ethan loved me as much as I did him.

  If I wanted to live long enough to get married, I’d have to solve this case quick. But something deep within my soul told me I needed to do this. With God’s help, I’d survive.

  “Let’s not spoil the evening.” Ethan rose and held out a hand to help me. “Dinner’s ready, and there’s a county fair to enjoy.”

  “My first as an officially engaged woman.” I couldn’t wait to show off my ring. The thoughtfulness behind the jewelry’s design set wings to my feet. I’m sure they barely brushed the wood floors as we headed in to join my aunt and uncle.

  They pulled apart from each other, Aunt Eunice’s face red. Uncle Roy winked at Ethan and pulled out his chair. “Just received a proper welcome home. Couldn’t do it outside. The neighbors would’ve seen.”

  “Stop it, Roy.” Aunt Eunice set a plate of roast beef, potatoes, and vegetables in front of him. “You’re embarrassing them.”

  Ethan laughed and sat, reaching for the second plate, which he handed to me. “You’re the one with the red face, Eunice.”

  She giggled like a schoolgirl and took her place at the opposite end of the table from Uncle Roy. I smiled. The love that still existed between my sixty-year-old aunt and uncle filled me with joy and hope for the future.

  Conversation during dinner consisted of wedding plans and my aunt’s gushing over my ring. Hopefully, April hadn’t seen it yet. I didn’t want to miss the expression on her face when I showed it to her. By turning my hand back and forth, I could observe the glints of light flash from my finger.

  “Summer, pay attention.” My aunt’s sharp words brought me back to earth. “Your uncle will work the booth with me tonight so you and Ethan can run off and play. You guys could’ve called and told us your plane would be late. Then we wouldn’t have wasted a whole day waiting.”

  “I wanted to wait for Ethan. Aren’t you glad you stayed home to wait for Uncle Roy? He brought you flowers.”

  A flush rose in my aunt’s cheeks. She reached over to pat Uncle Roy’s hand. “Yes, I am.”

  “We tried calling. Not much cell phone service in Mexico.” Uncle Roy kissed her. “I’m gonna get my gun so we can leave.”

  “For what?” Aunt Eunice’s brow furrowed.

  “I’m going gorilla hunting.”

  “Roy, you can’t take a rifle to the fair.” Ethan wiped his mouth on a napkin and pushed back his chair.

  What amazed me was how my uncle could go from kissing my aunt to wanting to shoot someone. I know he wanted to protect me. My heart swelled with affection for the gruff old man, but he was way too fond of settling things with a rifle in the crook of his arm.

  Chapter Nine

  The second night of the fair bustled with a crowd of people. It seemed as if the entire town, maybe the whole county, saved their visit for Saturday night. Harassed parents shepherded children through the gate and toward the smaller rides and petting zoo. Hand-holding teens made a beeline for more exciting rides and shows. And above it all, the fun house’s clown head bobbed and beckoned to those who wanted to be scared within an inch of their life. A catwalk stretched behind the clown’s head. It wobbled while it bobbed, and my stomach lurched at the thought of being on that narrow platform.

  “They have a cornfield maze this year,” Ethan whispered in my ear, tickling my neck. “Want to get lost in it?”

  “Don’t tempt me.” I grabbed his hand. “Let’s buy our wristbands.”

  The giddiness of a teenager grabbed hold of me as tight as I gripped Ethan’s hand. Bouncing on the balls of my feet, I strained to see over the heads of the crowd as I searched for April. She entered the gate, her arm
linked through Joe’s. He wore street clothes. A rare sight.

  “April!” I left Ethan to fork over the thirty dollars for two wristbands and waved frantically to my friend.

  She smiled and returned my wave then tugged Joe in our direction. As they drew closer, I held out my left hand and grinned as April squealed. “I didn’t think Ethan had such classy taste. Good job, big brother.”

  “Congratulations, buddy.” Joe pumped Ethan’s hand. “Taking the vows. Big step.”

  April rolled her eyes and pulled me aside. “I wish Joe would propose. We talk about marriage, but he wants the proposal to be special. When I least expect it, he says. I just want the ring on my finger.” She lifted my hand. “It’s gorgeous.”

  “He asked my uncle for permission then got on his knees.” I held my hand to the light. “Ethan had the ring designed special.”

  “Nice.” She leaned closer. “What’s this I hear about someone chasing you up the Ferris wheel?”

  “Not someone. A big fat hog.” I had difficulty dragging my attention away from my sparkling treasure and back to her. “It was the most frightening thing ever. A lot of snorting and grunting.” I shivered.

  “Why’d you hide on the Ferris wheel? Why not the restroom? Any building. You hate that ride.”

  “I wasn’t thinking clearly, all right? It’s difficult to think while you run for your life.”

  “You’re so dramatic. It was only a pig. Look, Joe’s ready, and Ethan’s waiting.” She gave me a quick hug. “Stay out of trouble. Let me know if you need anything.”

  At one time last year, I’d wanted April to be my sidekick, but she’d become too wrapped up in Joe. My fault, since I encouraged them to see each other. Even going so far as to trick Joe into taking April to the annual formal ball.

  With a shrug, I turned and took Ethan’s hand, enjoying the feel of my small hand wrapped in his large calloused one. Aunt Eunice is as nosy as I am. She’ll be a great sidekick. If she doesn’t lecture me to death each step of the way about the possible danger.

  “Let’s ride the Scrambler.” Ethan’s dimple winked. “That way you’ll be spun against me.”

  “I’ll squash you.”

  “But what a way to go. Come on, Tinkerbell. As your aunt would say, you don’t weigh more than a minute. You aren’t going to hurt me.”

  The ride twirled, the world spun in kaleidoscope colors, and I laughed until I cried. The tears dried almost instantly from the wind created as we whipped around. Ethan held me close against his side to prevent our banging together. I could have stayed like that all night, except for the inevitable nausea. Rides had a tendency to make me ill.

  “Win me something,” I suggested when the ride stopped. “Show me how strong you are. My stomach has to rest.”

  “The High Striker. Let’s go see if this old man still has what it takes.” Old man. He’d just turned thirty-three.

  We watched for a while as teenager after teenager attempted to bring the mallet down hard enough to send the puck up and ring the bell. Girls encouraged. Boys groaned. One young man built like a football player stopped and handed the mallet to Ethan.

  “Come on, Teach. Show us how it’s done.”

  Ethan took the mallet and swung to test its weight. “How’d you do?”

  “I haven’t yet. Waiting on you.” The young man grinned and flexed his muscles. “You might be stronger in the God department, Mr. Ethan, but I’m stronger in the brawn.”

  “Uh-huh. Get that wooden box built yet, David? I’ve been gone a month. You had plenty of time.” In addition to being youth pastor at our church, Ethan taught woodworking at the high school.

  “No, sir. I’ll get right on that this weekend.”

  “I’ll make you a deal.” Ethan handed me the mallet and offered his hand to the boy. “If I don’t ring this bell, and you do, I’ll give you full credit, and you won’t have to make the box. But I’ll see you in Sunday school every Sunday for a month. If you don’t strike it, you have to make the box, and varnish it, plus two straight months of Sunday school. Deal?”

  “Yes, sir!” David pumped Ethan’s hand. “What if we both make it?”

  “If we both make it, you can turn in an unvarnished box for full credit.”

  Ethan took the mallet, then raised it high. He slammed it on the red circle in the center of the platform. The puck rose. The ding of the bell rang over our heads. I clapped and jumped up and down, shrieking like a cheerleader.

  “That’s one month of Sundays, David.” Ethan handed him the mallet.

  David laughed, raised his hand to high-five another kid, and raised his mallet. The puck rose three-fourths and fell.

  “That’s two months.” Ethan slung an arm over the boy’s shoulder. “Can’t wait to see you in church tomorrow morning.”

  “But I’m entered in the rodeo.”

  “So am I. The rodeo isn’t until two o’clock. You’re steer roping, right? That isn’t until three.”

  Ethan punched the young man’s shoulder then turned to the prize booth. With a chuckle, he chose a giant stuffed gorilla. “They say a person needs to face their fears.”

  “How closely?” I pointed toward the space between two game booths where one of my gorilla friends stood. Ethan shoved the stuffed animal under his arm and with his free hand, grabbed mine and dragged me after him while we gave chase.

  Our feet pounded on the dirt-packed surface between the sideshows and attractions. We leaped over stretched cable. We sprinted past Ginger’s corral, and she lumbered alongside the fence, keeping pace. Children shrieked with glee and jogged with her.

  “Your friend?” Ethan barely panted with our effort, while I could hardly breathe.

  “Sort. Of.” My lungs burned.

  Thank You, Lord, for giving me the sense to wear my gym shoes. Still, at the speed Ethan darted across the midway, I felt as if I really were Tinkerbell flying behind Peter Pan. We finally came to a blessed halt before the entrance to the maze. I bent over to catch my breath.

  “He got away. We’ll never find them in there.”

  Somebody screamed, then laughed, and I pulled back. “Good, because I’m not going in there. Not at night. I’ve seen too many scary movies.”

  “Don’t worry. We aren’t going in. Whoever our friend is probably knows his way around. We’d come up against all the dead ends.” He glanced at the stuffed animal. “Nothing we can do now. Let’s stick this guy in the truck and play some more games. Or would you like to go on another ride?”

  “I’d like to check on Aunt Eunice, if you don’t mind. See if she needs me.”

  “Sure.” My brave knight took me by the hand again and moved at a much slower pace toward his Ford.

  We stashed my furry friend behind the front seat, then followed a group of people into the arts and crafts building. My spirits soared at the sight of a crowd in front of our candy booth. As we got closer, I realized they weren’t there to buy chocolate.

  Aunt Eunice’s angry voice rose above the mob of onlookers. Mabel and Ruby stood in front of her. All three women’s faces resembled prize-winning tomatoes in color. Ethan shouldered his way through the crowd. I followed in his wake.

  My aunt shouted—her face inches from Mabel’s. “You stole them. I want them back.”

  “I didn’t take anything!” Mabel put her hands on her hips to imitate Aunt Eunice. “I just got here.”

  “Then Ruby took them. One of you did. You knew I’d win.”

  “Excuse me?” Ruby joined the melee. The other two women’s plump frames dwarfed her skinny one. “How dare you accuse me—”

  Uncle Roy squeezed his bulk between the women. “Ladies, settle down. You’re creating a spectacle.”

  All three women turned on him.

  “We don’t care if we’re causing a spectacle or not.” Aunt Eunice narrowed her eyes. “Just chalk it up to another sideshow at the fair. Look at the old biddies making a fuss.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Mabel grumbled. “Old, my foo
t.”

  “Aunt Eunice.” I squeezed my way into the booth. “What exactly is missing?”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “My pickles.”

  Chapter Ten

  I hardly have the heart to go to church this morning.” Aunt Eunice plopped into a kitchen chair. Her head fell forward onto folded arms. “Why would someone steal my pickles?”

  I wondered the same thing and patted her shoulder before I shuffled to the coffeepot. Even though I’d have my usual frappuccino from the coffee bar at church, I still needed some right now. I couldn’t wake up in the mornings without caffeine. Maybe I should switch to cola.

  I filled my mug and an aromatic fragrance wafted up with the steam. Closing my eyes in bliss, I sipped before speaking. “Do you really think Mabel or Ruby would sabotage you by stealing your entry?”

  “No,” she groaned. “And I’ll have to apologize. I was upset.”

  “Do you want some toast?” I popped a couple of slices of bread in the toaster.

  My aunt and uncle had been my primary caregivers since I was five—taking care of every tear or scraped knee, and there were lots of them. I tried drumming up some sympathy, honestly, but seven o’clock on a Sunday morning left the well dry.

  Aunt Eunice waved off the offer. “I couldn’t eat a thing.”

  The toaster dinged, and I buttered my slices then slathered them with homemade muscadine jelly.

  Aunt Eunice bolted from her chair and disappeared into the pantry. “Good thing I set aside a couple jars of pickles for our personal use.”

  The toast stuck in my throat. I shook my head. “Extras? Then why all the fuss?”

  “I felt violated.” She emerged with a jar held high. “And your uncle loves my bread-and-butter pickles. He’ll be devastated I wasn’t able to set much away for us.”

  “How many jars did you make?”

  “A dozen.”

  Even I could do the math. One lost jar at the fair and one replacement jar still left ten jars. Plenty for my rotund uncle. Things were always one extreme to the next with my aunt.