The Fake Husband. Lynnette Kent
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honey.” In the middle of serving herself a slice of chicken, Jacquie’s mother looked across at Erin. “Lewellyn? Isn’t that…?” Her frowning gaze moved to Jacquie.
“That’s right.” Jacquie spoke over the gallop of her heartbeat. “I trained with him in New York. He’s just moved down here with his horses, and Erin’s dying to get his help with her riding.”
“More than just training,” Alicia said. “As I recall, you had a huge crush on Rhys Lewellyn. Every phone call was about how handsome he was, how he smiled—”
“You’re exaggerating,” Jacquie said, though her impulse was to scream Shut up! “I liked him a lot. He’s a good teacher.”
“And gorgeous?” Alicia prompted.
“Okay, yes. Still is, for that matter.” She hoped her appraisal came across as casual.
Erin’s eyes were round with surprise. “Mom? You and Mr. Lewellyn went out together?”
“No.” They’d never gone on dates because he’d been married. “No, Erin, we didn’t go out together. I was young, he was attractive and older and paid attention to me because I rode well. End of story.” More or less.
“Except that the next thing we knew, you’d moved halfway across the country, married Mark Archer and were having a baby.” Alicia shook her head. “You always were crazy, but that year had to be one of the craziest.”
When Jacquie glanced across the table, her mother’s frown hadn’t eased. So much about that time in her life had gone unexplained, she wouldn’t be surprised if Becky Lennon’s suspicions were easily aroused.
Damn you, Rhys. Damn you for showing up to ruin my life yet again.
Desperate for distraction, she turned to her sister-in-law. “Sandy, I hear you got your nursery set up this week. Have you finished sewing the curtains and quilts? When can I come see?”
Listening to Sandy’s glowing description of ruffles and rainbows, Jacquie recalled the “nursery” she’d arranged for Erin almost fourteen years ago—a thrift-shop crib in the corner of her one-room apartment over the barn, with worn baby sheets borrowed from the family she worked for and a yellow blanket representing her first and only attempt at knitting. Crooked and lumpy, the yellow blanket had been Erin’s “friend” until she went to kindergarten, and rested safe now at the bottom of their family keepsake box.
Alicia took over the conversation at that point. Jacquie tried to relax and enjoy her baked chicken, but her stomach was fisted tight. Thankfully, she got her plate scraped off and into the dishwasher before her mother noticed. And she got Erin out of the house before the subject of Rhys Lewellyn could come up again.
Her daughter had left most of her homework until the last day of vacation, of course, and they struggled through the rest of the day with an English paper and an algebra worksheet. Jacquie could help with the writing assignment, but algebra had never been her strong point.
“Alicia got all the math genes,” she told Erin, when they’d both worked on a problem and failed to get the correct answer. “She’s the brain and Jimmy and I are the brawn of the family.”
“Can we call her and ask her to come over? It’s still early.”
“According to whom? It’s after nine o’clock. Alicia’s ready for bed by now. She gets up at five to walk, remember?”
“She could skip her walk and drive me to school.”
“I’ll drive you to school. I’m having breakfast with Phoebe tomorrow morning.”
“Can I go, too? Maybe Phoebe could do my math.”
Jacquie sighed and shook her head. “You’re going to have to ask your teacher for help, Erin.”
“But, Mom…!”
Between a troubled night’s sleep and the usual early-morning scramble to find school clothes and make lunch, Jacquie felt she’d lived through a whole day by the time she drove into New Skye and dropped Erin off at the school door.
Across the street from the school, however, was Charlie’s Carolina Diner, where she knew she could get good food and a healthy helping of friendship. Kids at New Skye High School had been hanging out at the Carolina Diner after class and on weekends since long before she and her friends took up the tradition. Many of them still came back as adults—to catch up with each other and the latest news in town, or, like Jacquie, for a chance to unwind.
“It’s only eight-thirty,” she said, sliding into the booth where Phoebe Moss waited for her. “And I’m already exhausted.”
“I know the feeling. What’s going on?” Phoebe flipped her long, ash-blond braid behind her shoulder and cupped her hands around her mug of tea.
Jacquie caught a glimpse of a sparkle on her best friend’s ring finger. “I’ll tell you in a minute. First, let me see that rock you’re carrying around.”
Grinning, Phoebe stretched her left hand across the table to show off a diamond engagement ring. “We got it in New York while we were there over the holidays.”
“Fabulous. I love the emerald cut. Where did it come from?”
“Tiffany’s.”
“Oh, wow.” Jacquie sat back in awe. “Adam really does things with style, doesn’t he?” Adam DeVries, Phoebe’s fiancé, was a childhood friend of Jacquie’s and a fellow graduate in the class of 1989. Elected mayor in November, he would assume his office in a matter of days.
Phoebe’s grin turned into a dreamy smile. “We had the most wonderful time—skating at Rockefeller Center, a carriage ride in Central Park in the snow, museums and restaurants and shows…” She sighed. “Everything was simply perfect.”
“And now you’re back home, stepping out as the fiancée of the new mayor of New Skye. Are you ready?”
Her friend gave a mock shudder. “Just organizing the swearing-in party has me going crazy. But tell me about you and Erin. What’s going on that’s making you so tired?”
She toyed with her napkin. “The holidays were great. We loved the snow, of course, since we don’t get much. But…”
“But?” Abby Brannon arrived at their table with coffee for Jacquie and fresh tea for Phoebe. As the owner’s daughter, Abby had worked in the diner since she was a little girl. Not much happened in the town of New Skye she didn’t know about. More important, she’d been Jacquie’s close friend all during high school. “Something wrong with the horses? With Erin? Your parents? Your sister-in-law’s not due till February, right?”
“Oh, no. Everybody’s fine.” She shouldn’t have started this, Jacquie realized. How much could she say without revealing the truth she’d never told a soul, not even her best friends? “There’s a new trainer in town, Rhys Lewellyn.”
“The Olympic champion?” Phoebe kept horses, and would know his name.
“That’s the one. Erin’s crazy to take lessons from him.”
“And he doesn’t teach?”
“Yes, he does.”
Both Abby and Phoebe looked puzzled.
“It’s just…I worked with him, back before Erin was born. And we parted on bad terms. So having him as her teacher would be…difficult.”
“You don’t have to socialize, right?” Abby shrugged. “Just take her to the lesson and drive away when it’s done.” A bell rang behind the counter along the back wall. “Your breakfast is up. I’ll be right back.”
Phoebe nodded at Jacquie. “I agree. Write the check and don’t talk to him any more than you have to.”
If only it were so easy. “You know Erin. She thinks everybody should be friends. And she’d