Ash didn’t answer, and I was left stewing in questions for the next ten minutes.
Just before we arrived at Kankakee, I told him where to turn and we drove down increasingly narrow roads until we stopped outside a large two-story building, with split rail fences and a white porch. It had a southern feel about the place, even though the air was crisp enough to promise snow.
I unclipped my seatbelt but before I could climb out, Ash grabbed my hand.
“Are we okay, Laney?”
I knew what he was asking, but I found it hard to meet his eyes. The sudden violence had shocked me. The fact that he wouldn’t stop hitting that man. And it made me wonder how well I really knew Ash. My father’s words flashed through my mind.
“Yes,” I said slowly. “But please don’t do anything like that again.”
He shook his head. “I can’t promise.”
What was going on? Why was his expression so bleak? I wished he’d talk to me, but now wasn’t the time.
“Just . . . fine . . . but leave Collin to me. In fact, let me do all the talking, okay?”
Again, he shook his head.
Hell, this was going to be a messed up Thanksgiving.
I didn’t want to be here. To keep myself from going completely crazy, I spent a moment ticking off a list of grim and tragic places where I’d rather be, then ran out of fingers. I wished I could take off my shoes to continue my new hobby.
Ash unloaded the trunk, taking out our luggage and the bags of food that we’d brought with us. I hoped he’d have time to change his shirt before he met my parents.
Squaring my shoulders, I walked up the steps to the front door, but before I could press the bell, the door flew open and a red-faced Collin teetered in front of me.
“There she is,” he sneered. “The blushing bride.”
Oh no!
A hand came from behind, and I saw Paddy grab a fistful of Collin’s shirt and drag him back inside.
I glanced over my shoulder, certain that the shock I saw on Ash’s face was reflected in my own. But then my mother and aunt were standing on the doorstep and pulling me into the hallway, smothering me with hugs and questions.
Ash followed more slowly and I heard him drop the bags onto the wooden floor.
“Laney, what is this nonsense?” asked Mom before I’d had a chance to take a breath. “Is it true?”
“Let her through the door, why don’t you?” huffed Aunt Lydia. “We’re all in the kitchen.”
Mom glared and stomped through to the large farmhouse kitchen in the back.
I stared at Ash and he shrugged his shoulders. Then he reached for my hand, and after a short hesitation, I took it.
The air was warm and spicy, the delicious aroma of hot cider and cinnamon filling Aunt Lydia’s kitchen. I breathed deeply, letting the familiar scent of childhood soak in.
Dad was already sitting at the heavy wooden table with Uncle Paul, each nursing a glass of beer. Collin slumped down, his threatening smile loose, his eyes hard and hurt and accusing.
“Are you going to deny that you married him?”
“Ash is my husband.”
Everyone looked stunned, including Ash but he recovered before anyone noticed and smiled proudly, slipping his arm around my shoulders.
“I’m a very lucky man,” he said like he meant it.
I sat on the hard chair opposite Collin as my knees gave way, and Ash slid into the seat next to me. As everyone stared, I suddenly felt stifling hot in the room. I loosened a couple of buttons on my coat, wondering if we’d be better off turning around and heading back to Chicago.
Under the table, Ash grabbed my hand again. I threw him a quick look, but he was staring coldly at my ex-boyfriend.
Collin raised a glass and saluted me as beer slopped over the rim.
“To the happy couple!”
Paddy took the glass out of his hands and tipped the beer into the sink.
“You’ve had enough to drink, buddy.”
Collin wasn’t drunk enough to argue with Paddy, who was a big guy, like all the men in my family, and worked for the Fire Department.
“Laney?” My mom’s eyes were wide as she stared at me.
“Um, well . . .” I cleared my throat nervously, feeling as if I was 13 years old, not a few months from thirty.
Collin laughed loudly. “He married her for a green card. Why else?”
My face flushed red.
Ash’s hand tightened over mine and he looked questioningly, waiting for me to answer. But I had nothing. I’d told him I’d do the talking, but I just couldn’t find the words.
Ash raised my hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss across the knuckles.
“Laney is my sunshine,” he said simply, then he smiled his breathtaking smile.
I was willing to bet that smile had won over most of the women in the room, but not Dad. Of course.
“Laney, what the hell were you thinking? Immigration fraud is serious.”
Ash’s hand tightened compulsively and my mouth dried as I stared at my father’s disappointed face.
“I . . .”
The words still wouldn’t come.