Roy set the piece of wood on the table. He stood from his seat. “I may be old, boy, but I can guarantee you I’d get some licks in before you knocked me down. Wouldn’t be near what you deserve after what you did to my family.”
Justin spun on his heel. “What I did?” He took two steps forward and stopped just on the other side of Roy’s workbench. “I didn’t steal a man’s child, Mr. Hayes. No indeed, that was your daughter.”
“Steal?” Roy leaned forward over the workbench, his eyes hard as stone. “More like you done the worst thing any low-life, scum-sucking man could do. Took advantage of a young woman in the city, got her”—Roy’s nostrils flared as he fought his temper—“got her in the family way, and then wouldn’t do the right thing. Just sent her packing. Back here. To me and her sister and her mama to take care of what you done.” Roy picked up the piece of wood. “Boy, you’re lucky I didn’t take a log to your head out there in the woods.”
“That’s the story you got? Mr. Hayes, no disrespect to you or your family, but I think you better check with your daughter on those facts, because I can guarantee you that the story you just told me, the way you think this happened, was not the way it went down, sir.”
“Now you’re calling my girl a liar?”
Justin turned back. “No sir, I’m merely telling you that she left out an inconvenient truth.”
Justin walked out of the workshop and into the sun. Into the light. Into a breeze that cooled his brow but did nothing for the anger in his soul.
Chapter 9
Aubrey zipped down the hall, hopeful that she might escape another appearance at the Tyler-Kessler wedding-menu tasting. In the main dining room, they now tasted cake and Cassidy kept the peace between the mothers, or to be honest, Cassidy helped keep the groom’s mother happy. Mrs. Kessler, with her tight lips and sharp tongue, was a woman accustomed to being obeyed. Aubrey did her very best to respond to Mrs. Kessler’s multitude of complaints with a gentle smile. She wasn’t paying one cent for the wedding, and yet she had the gall to demand New York strip instead of filet, brussels sprouts instead of potatoes, and baby carrots instead of corn. The bride’s mother was lovely and charming and found a way to appease her soon-to-be-son-in-law’s mother. Every compromise was made for that irritable woman. It was exhausting. Now the bride and the groom were trying to pick out their cake with input from both mothers.
Poor kids. Much easier if they got to make choices regarding the wedding by themselves and then the parents came in once everything was selected. But in this instance, as in most of life, the person who paid the piper called the tune. The bride’s mother was being especially magnanimous to even allow Mrs. Kessler to join the menu and cake selection, as the bride’s family was paying for the entire wedding.
“Excuse me, Miss Hayes?”
Aubrey turned. Mrs. Kessler stood before her. The woman was a study in angles. A sharp-cut bob, a well-tailored gray suit with narrow heels, a sharp nose and jaw. Her makeup was stark against her pale skin. Had she been a teacher or principal? The bride-to-be had told Aubrey once what her future mother-in-law’s career was before she retired.
“Mrs. Kessler.” Aubrey put her professional smile in place. “How can I be helpful?”
Mrs. Kessler’s pursed lips did not move to smile in greeting, nor did her sharp brown eyes show any hint of joy with regards to the upcoming nuptials of her son and his beloved bride. “Miss Hayes, my husband and I have grave reservations about Chellsie’s venue choice. I wonder if I might speak to you about some changes we’d like to see.”
Aubrey swallowed and maintained her smile. Oh. My. This was a tricky position. Mrs. Kessler and her husband were not paying one red cent for this wedding or this venue or the menu or the cake or any other part of the wedding or reception, and yet here stood the groom’s mother, prepared to make demands.
“Certainly, Mrs. Kessler. Let me get Gloria, Chellsie’s mother. I’m certain she’d like to be a part of this conversation—”
“No need.” Mrs. Kessler waved her hand, dismissing the idea that Gloria should be made aware of her complaints. “Our concerns are with the extravagance of this wedding. We, my husband and I—” Mrs. Kessler raised an eyebrow. “My son would be concerned as well if not under the sway of his betrothed.” Her gaze rolled toward the ceiling as though summoning the patience to maintain her sainthood. When her gaze returned to meet Aubrey’s, her lips were in a tight little pucker. “We are indeed a very frugal family. And it is by choice, Miss Hayes, not by necessity. As such, I’m quite uncomfortable with the prices and extravagances of Rockwater Farms.”