Chapter 9
9
Waking up in Dakota’s room feels like I’ve time-traveled back to our tween sleepover days, minus the questionable fashion choices and boy band posters. I stretch out, half expecting those teenage relics to still be on the walls, but instead, I’m greeted by some genuinely cool art and the morning sun streaming cheerfully through the window.
I glance at the clock.
10:34.
Shit.
I must have been really tired. I never sleep in.
It probably didn’t help that Dee and I stayed up until almost two just talking.
Dakota’s side of the bed is empty, and I can hear the clangs and conversation of a house that’s already awake and halfway through their busy day drifting under the chunky wooden door.
Sliding out of bed, I throw on some clothes from my suitcase—denim shorts and a tank top—twisting my long dark hair into a braid that hangs halfway down my back. My style has always been farm girl chic, but sometimes I have to wear more “corporate” style clothes when we’re trying to put record deals together or when I’m organizing publicity. Just another reason why being back here at Sugar Mountain makes my soul feel so light. I can be the real Roxie Tucker who lives in cowboy boots and barely wears a scrap of makeup, instead of always having to be the one with all her shit together.
Padding down the stairs, the familiar sounds of the Boone household surround me like a comforting hug. There’s the clink of dishes, the laughter of morning chatter, and the unmistakable scents of fresh-brewed coffee and home-cooked food.
The kitchen is a welcoming bustle of the Boone family morning routine.
“Roxanne Savannah!” Aunt Lou pulls me into a buxom hug the moment I step into the kitchen. It’s been a while since anyone used my full name. My middle name is my mother’s name, and it always kicks up bittersweet nostalgia when I hear it. “Child, it’s about time you came back. What took you so long? We’ve all missed you and your brothers so much.” Aunt Lou finally releases me and holds my shoulders, drinking in the sight of me. “Look at you, baby girl. You have no right to be this beautiful. Especially when you’re being run ragged by all those troublesome brothers of yours. How’s Vaughn?”
She strokes my hair, touching my face. All the little gestures that I remember from the warmth of the summers I spent at her house. “Vaughn’s fine. He sends his love.”
“Where is he this weekend?”
“He’s…” He’s shacked up with his new strawberry-blond obsession, but I don’t mention that to Aunt Lou. She’ll have a conniption—mainly from excitement because she wants to be a great aunt as soon as possible and no doubt Vaughn’s babies will be her favorites. “He’s in Nashville, taking some much-needed R&R after the tour.”
“Sit down and tell me all about it, sugar pie.”
Aunt Lou guides me to the table. There’s no sign of Nate or Daisy or the boys, but the table is already in the process of being piled high with mountains of food.
“Mornin’, Sunshine,” Betty-Ann sets a mug of steaming coffee on the table in front of me. “Best get in quick before the locusts descend. The boys are out in the fields, but they’ll be in before long.”
“Thank you, Betty-Ann. I can’t believe I slept so late.” I hold the mug between my hands, blowing on it. “Usually I’m up with the birds.”
“I kept you up far too late last night.” Dakota pulls a tray of fresh-baked biscuits out of the oven. “Besides, you’ve been so busy, I figured you needed the rest.”
Dee and I talked for hours, about the tour, about her and Tobias’s business, about our currently-dismal love lives, and about life in general.
We talked about everything except the one thing I’ve still never confessed to anyone, and hardly even to myself.
But I dreamt of him last night, my subconscious digging up some particularly sweet forgotten memories. And new ones too. Of the way he looked in the moonlight, allll grown up and hotter than any One Who Got Away has any right to be.
I’ve seen him twice in the past eight years, but the half hour we spent together last night has hit me hard. Will I see him today?
“I haven’t slept that deeply in a long time,” I confess.
“You definitely needed it,” Aunt Lou insists. “You also look like you need plenty of home cooking, Roxanne Savannah Tucker. Are they not feeding you on that tour bus?” Lou tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear and plants a kiss on my cheek. “Skinny or not, it’s so wonderful to have you home, honey.”
Home . It sure does feel that way. “It’s good to be here, Aunt Lou. How have you been? And how’s Uncle Earl?”
“Oh, you know. We’re fine. Your Uncle Earl is a little more hard of hearing these days and his memory isn’t quite what it used to be, but other than that we’re doing just fine.”
With my back to the door and Dakota and Betty-Ann bustling around to get even more food on the table, I almost miss Uncle Earl shuffling in. He’s older than Aunt Lou, and he’s definitely aged quite a bit since I was last here.
“Morning, everyone,” he holds a hand up in greeting as he slides into a seat at the head of the table. At first he doesn’t notice me amongst all the activity of the chefs.
“Earl Tucker,” Lou scolds him, “look who’s here.”
His eyes light up when he sees me. “Roxie. What a surprise.” He struggles a little to get up, so I jump up to give him a hug. “When did you get here, honey? Just now?”
Lou pats his arm affectionately. “Earl, Roxie’s been here since yesterday. You remember, we talked about it last night.”
Earl chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. In that moment, he reminds me so much of my father it takes my breath away. The similarity pulls at something painful and buried inside me. “Ah, yes, of course.”
“It’s great to see you Uncle Earl. You’re as handsome as ever.”
It’s true. He might look older, but when they were young, he and my dad were stunning looking men. Vaughn looks a lot like both of them once did. Except he’s taller and more built. Not to mention he acts like a maniac most days. Even so, everyone has a soft spot for Vaughn.
A gigantic plate of food is placed at my place setting.
“Hope you’re hungry, darlin’,” Betty-Ann grins.
Dakota laughs. “No one’s that hungry, Ma.”
“She’s skin and bones!” Betty-Ann exclaims.
“It’s true,” Aunt Lou seconds. “Roxie, eat.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Obeying, I sit in my chair and pick up my knife and fork. “I don’t even know where to start.”
Scrambled eggs, two oven-warm biscuits with gravy, cheesy grits, fresh fruit, bacon, sausage, and skillet-baked cornbread dripping with homemade butter.
“Okay, this is next level, guys. You’ll have to roll me down Sugar Mountain.”
“Men like women with some meat on their bones,” Lou informs me. “How’s your love life, darlin’? Have those meddling brothers of yours let you spread your wings a little?”
Aunt Lou knows my brothers well. “Not exactly. Tumbleweeds are currently rolling through my love life.”
“Maybe we could help, Betty-Ann.” Aunt Lou perks up. “Plenty of handsome red-blooded country boys around Sugar Falls we could introduce you to.”
Dakota laughs. “Like who?”
“A bunch of ‘em are living right here on this farm,” Lou replies.
“Lou, you’re losing your marbles worse than me,” Uncle Earl scolds her. “The Boone boys are practically Roxie’s cousins .”
“More like brothers,” Dakota adds.
Nothing like family to spear straight to the heart of the very topic that gave me such sweet dreams last night—and has always felt a hundred percent forbidden for the exact reasons they’re happily bantering about.
“You all know they’re not actually her brothers,” Betty-Ann points out. “And neither are they her cousins. Any one of my boys would be lucky as sin to win a woman as beautiful and successful and sweet as Roxie Tucker. But my guess is she’s looking for someone more mature than my twins. God knows I love ‘em to pieces, but they still act like a pair of naughty schoolboys half the time. Plus they’re still busy sowing their wild oats, God love ‘em. I just hope they’re being careful. Boys will be boys, after all.”
“Amen to that,” Earl chimes in, digging in to his own breakfast.
Betty-Ann tops up my coffee. “Then there’s Nate of course but he’s so surly these days and hardly ever home.”
“Plus all the responsibility of a child to raise on his own, which hasn’t been easy,” Lou chimes in.
“Lord knows that’s the truth,” Betty-Ann continues. “Then again if he had a gorgeous wife to come home to, he’d think twice about his workaholic tendencies. Maybe it’s exactly what he needs.”
My stomach does another one of those swoops.
“Didn’t he go out on a date with one of those girls down at the coffee shop a while ago?” Lou asks. “Every time I go in there, they’re always asking about him. Then again, they ask me about him at the bakery too. And the library.”
“Oh, you know Nate. Nothing ever lasts with him. I worry about that boy. I can’t think of a single time he’s dated a girl more than once.”
I don’t dare look up from my plate in case I somehow give myself away. And I’m not sure how to feel about or what to make of the information they’re discussing.
“Anyhow, since tomorrow night’s the hoedown, we can introduce Roxie to some of the local boys,” Lou says excitedly. “ Just think about it, darlin’, if you married a local we could see you all the time!”
“Hoedown?”
“It’s just a little last-minute thing we’re putting together,” Dakota explains. “A few bands will be playing and we’re serving up a casual buffet dinner, that’s all. At the lodge.”
“Oh. That sounds like fun.”
Betty-Ann and Lou aren’t cagey about any information whatsoever, like Dakota and Tobias were earlier. “Luke and Leo are going to play a few songs,” Lou says. “And maybe even Nate.”
“Nate?” They all sang with the family band when we were kids—and they were all good, even then—but that’s as far as it ever went, or so I thought.
“Nate’s the one with all the talent, if you ask me,” declares Lou. “Of course the twins are also talented,” she quickly adds. “And they could charm the pants off a nun, just saying.”
“Louise Mary Jensen Tucker,” Betty-Ann chides her. “Those are my angelic sons you’re talking about.”
“Well, it’s true and you know it.”
Dakota pulls up a chair and sits next to me. “We didn’t want you to feel like we’d invited you here just to listen to them play or anything like that, Rox. We know you’re a high-powered manager now but there are zero ulterior motives to the hoedown.”
“Got it,” I assure her. “But I invited myself, if I remember correctly. ”
“True,” Dakota smiles, helping herself to a piece of my bacon. “But the hoedown is a new development.”
“Dakota Beatrice Boone, let the child eat.”
“I need her help.” I put my fork down because I’m already getting full even though I’ve hardly made a dent in my breakfast. “There’s seriously no way I can eat all this.”
“Her stomach has shrunk, Lou, because of her lifestyle.” Betty-Ann sounds concerned. “Roxie, how long are you staying?”
“Just the weekend. I have to go back to the city on Monday.”
“That’s not enough time for us to feed you properly,” Lou protests. “Child, you’re wasting away. Can’t you stay a little longer?”
All four of them are watching me hopefully.
“Well, the tour’s over, so technically I’m supposed to have a few days off. But I?—”
“It’s decided then,” Lou declares. “Two days isn’t nearly long enough.”
I’m wondering how long they think it’ll take to both fatten me up and find me a local to marry. “I guess I could stay an extra day, but I definitely need to be back in the city on Tuesday afternoon. I’ve got a meeting with one of my new clients.”
“Do it by Zoom or whatever they use these days,” Betty-Ann suggests. “Nate does it all the time.”
I take a bite of bacon and it’s literally the best bacon I’ve ever tasted. “I wish I could, but she’s flying to Nashville from Austin just to meet with me.”
“How was your sewing circle last night, Lou?” Dakota, bless her, might be deliberately steering Lou away from the topic of both my overly-busy work schedule and my non-existent love life.
“Oh.” She holds her palms up, as though she thought we’d never ask. “ Well , Mildred Johnson is all up in arms about the new business venture of Mitch’s. You remember the old Johnson barn on the edge of town, Rox?” I nod, remembering it as a place that sometimes held farmers’ markets in the late summer. “Well, turns out Mitch decided it would be the perfect place for his new brewery. He’s calling it ‘Johnson’s Jolly Juice’ and now the whole town's in a tizzy over it. And apparently it packs quite the punch. Maureen O’Neill—you know her, Dakota, she chairs the town’s historical society—well, her husband’s taken a real liking to it. Maureen’s telling everyone at Town Hall that the barn’s a historical landmark and should be preserved, not turned into a glorified speakeasy.”
“Only in Sugar Falls would a batch of home brew cause such a scandal,” Dakota laughs.
Aunt Lou loves nothing more than a good scandal. “Mayor Simons had to get involved on account of all the biddies knocking on his door 24/7. He told them it’s good for the town’s economy. And he asked Mitch to bring some samples to the town meeting to make his case. But then half the council ended up tipsy. Even Maureen was dancing on the tables. She broke one of ‘em and rolled halfway across the gymnasium.”
The kitchen erupts into laughter.
The laughter, the lighthearted melodrama, the sense of belonging—it all feels like a breath of fresh air.
“I’ve missed you all so much.”
Aunt Lou reaches over, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “And we’ve missed you, dear. Don’t leave it so long next time.”
Earl nods, looking at me with misty eyes.
“At least consider staying a little longer.” Aunt Lou blots her eyes with a tissue.
“I’ll stay until Tuesday, then.”
But if I’m being honest, three more days on Sugar Mountain doesn’t feel like nearly enough.