“Oh, please.”
“I know you, honey, and you looked like you were about to melt right out of that chair when Brock showed up.”
Heat rushed up her chest and into her face. It was true. The sound of his voice had done it. She groaned and sank into the armchair. “You don’t understand.”
“Oh, honey. I do. Brock is the man you talked about for months. You nearly flew back to Texas to find him. The only thing I don’t understand is why you’ve called him Austin all these years. Didn’t you know his name?”
She let her head fall back against the chair and sighed. “It was protection, from myself. As long as I called him Austin, it was the time and the place that made me feel that way. Not the man.”
She’d figured it out months later. Thinking of him as Brock Chandler from Austin, Texas was much too tempting, so she’d never said his name after that week. He was a person she could have looked for, and calling him Austin made him less real.
“I was already looking forward to you being here, now I can’t wait to see what happens with you and Brock.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” she nearly yelled.
“Oh, you’re not the only person I can read.”
“What’s that mean?”
“He would have eaten you up in the dining room if he could’ve. The fall of Brock Chandler is something I can’t wait to witness.”
“I hate to disappoint you, but I don’t think that’s what you’ll see. It was a fluke. He was on the rebound.”
Callie contemplated her words for about ten seconds. “Now he’s not. The way I see it, there’s nothing stopping him. Not even you.”
With that ominous prediction, Callie left her alone. Stuck in the middle of the woods, with nothing but her vivid memories for comfort.
Needing something to keep her busy, she jumped up and headed for the kitchen. If she knew Callie, the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies would be there.
Chapter 2
A tear rolled down Delaney’s cheek as she watched Callie in the mirror. The white, lace covered-silk wedding dress she wore was classic, made her look like a china doll. Her dark hair cascaded down her back. The veil she held above her head was a timeless piece.
It wasn’t often memories assaulted her, but she couldn’t stop them now, and wrapped her arms around herself.
She could almost feel Mrs. Broussard’s hands pinning the white satin material of her wedding dress around her waist. The gown would’ve been beautiful. Dean’s image appeared in the mirror, a lopsided grin on his face, and she closed her eyes. It seemed like a million years ago…when she’d been that happy-go-lucky girl ready to marry her rodeo cowboy.
A bull named Outlaw had trampled their world. Her life had never been the same since. Trying to hold the sadness at bay, she squared her shoulders. She’d enrolled in Tulane a semester late, where she’d met Callie. Depression had hit her hard and Callie had pulled her out, for which she owed her more than she could ever repay. She blotted the tears from her eyes and went to her friend’s side.
“You look like a million bucks.”
Callie smiled and preened on the dais. “You like it?”
“It’s perfect.” She hugged her. Having such a wonderful friend was a blessing. She wouldn’t let her pitiful memories invade Callie’s time.
“What about you? Try on the dresses I picked? Did you pick that one?”
Delaney looked down at the plum colored-corseted-chiffon nightmare she wore and internally cringed. “No. I’m still trying on.”
“Good,” Callie whispered. “The sales girl picked that one.”
With a finger stuck in her mouth, she made a coughing noise. “Let me go find something a little more tasteful.”
In the end, she chose a beautiful silk dress in what the sales girl called azalea pink.
After the fitting, they had a quick lunch, during which she learned Callie’s parents no longer lived at the campground and had little to do with the place these days.
On the drive back, Callie got a call from Tim, and after speaking with him, hung up.
As they crossed over what Delaney deemed The One-Way Bridge to Nowhere, Callie turned to her and said, “Tim said ‘Brock bailed on golf. I’ll meet you at the Y’…I guess you knew about this?”
“What?”
“Brock has not missed one single round of golf since he moved home six months ago.”
“So? What’s that got to do with me?”
Callie shrugged. “We’ll see.”
They drove under the entrance to the grounds. For the first time, she noticed the sign reading Chandler Bayou Campground looked new, but reminded her of something from the past. Another way of life, a slower time. At the cabin, Callie told her she was on her own to do whatever she wanted until the next day, because she planned to stay with Tim and finish addressing wedding invitations.
Delany had a whole box of wedding programs to fold, and Callie gave her a weekly calendar listing all the activities going on around the campground. At the moment, a soak in the Jacuzzi tub sounded like a grand idea.
* * * *
Brock grabbed the gear out of the Mule and questioned his motives for the tenth time in the past five minutes.
Dragging Delaney down the family side of the trails to the Gulf coast had nothing to do with being alone with her.
When he’d arrived at her cabin, Delaney had opened the door wearing a tank top, cutoffs and flip-flops. It had taken him a full minute to recover before he’d ushered her inside and insisted that she find a pair of tennis shoes and a real t-shirt. He was shocked he’d been able to make the request, but he knew it was for the best.
It didn’t matter. She was still a knock out. Her body bumping against his on the fifteen-mile ride to the coast had him hard. Around her, that didn’t take much.
She’d walked through the thin line of trees and was standing on the beach by the time he made it there. “It’s breathtaking,” she said. “I had no idea we were this close to the Gulf coast.”
“I keep telling my father there are so many opportunities that they have never explored around this place.”
Delaney nodded, but he wanted to kick himself for bringing up work and his problems.
“You grew up here? With Callie?”
“Yeah,” he said, pulling his t-shirt over his head. “I’m about six years older, but when we were young she was my sidekick. I know this place like the back of my hand.”
“I’ll bet. Did you always plan to come back?”
“No.” He baited the hooks, still not sure she was actually going into the water.
“I think Callie always did. She seems happy here.”
“She is, and you’re right she wanted to come back. At least for the past few years.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Brock shrugged. “The place seemed restricting. At least that’s what I used to think.”
“What changed your mind?” She graced him with a smile that overheated his already rising temperature. “I can’t see you living with many restrictions.” She had him there. Maybe