The Devine Doughnut Shop(14)

She didn’t want to think about Joel or his wife but let her mind drift to how hurt Macy would be when she found out about her darling Neal cheating on her with Devine’s black widow—the very one who’d married two elderly men and then cashed in on insurance and property when they each died less than a year after the weddings.

Sarah felt like she needed a long, hot shower after everything that had gone on in the past hour. She was the Darla Jo in the situation with Joel, even if she hadn’t known the man was married. Darla Jo had to know that Neal was engaged to Macy. Everyone in town had been talking about it—calling it a fairy-tale story—for months. She could barely wrap her own mind around everything she’d just witnessed; how in the world was she ever going to convince Macy of it? One thing was for sure: she wasn’t going home until the family had left for church, because she needed some time to think.

“What do I do now, Mama?” she pleaded softly. “If that Travis person came to the shop today and offered to buy it, I’d sign on the dotted line just like Audrey would to get out of town when the crap hits the fan. Is this an omen that all three of us need to start over somewhere other than Devine, Texas?”

Her mother didn’t have any answers, but Sarah knew she would have to tell Macy eventually. Maybe not that day—but before long so that she could figure out what to do. Knowing Macy and how much she loved Neal, if this was a one-time fling, she would forgive him and the wedding would go on as planned.

She wondered if Joel would sweet-talk Camille into one more chance—maybe for the children’s sake.

With a heavy heart for herself and for Macy, she drove south toward Devine. From the lights flowing out of the kitchen window, she knew the family was probably having breakfast. Sarah usually got home in time to shower and change for church, but she wouldn’t be attending services this morning. She had to work up the courage to face Macy and try to muster the willpower not to do bodily harm to both Neal and Joel.

She parked her truck in the pasture surrounding their house, got out, and sat on the tailgate. She and Joel had watched a lovely sunrise through the motel window that morning and talked about how in love they were. Then he had drifted off to sleep again. Did he use the same lines on all his women? What kind of lies had he told his wife about not coming home on Saturday nights for the past four months?

She hopped down from the tailgate and opened the passenger door to her truck, took out a warm root beer, and pulled the tab. She would have preferred a beer, or even a glass of white wine, but she was grateful that Audrey had failed to unload the six-pack of soda the day before when she had helped take in the groceries. She went back to the tailgate, finished her root beer, and crushed the can with her bare hands. She almost smiled when a cottontail rabbit ran out in a blur at the sound. Not even a cute little scared bunny was enough to get her out of her mood this morning. The last time she’d felt this much rage and disappointment all rolled up into one big ball had been when she was a teenager. She had cried for a week when her boyfriend broke up with her two days before prom so he could take another girl. She was a grown woman now, and she didn’t want to shed another tear—but she did want to crush Joel and Neal both like she had the can, throw them under the mesquite bush, and let the coyotes have them for supper.

“I bet Grace felt like this when Justin left her high and dry,” she muttered as she hopped down off the tailgate, slammed it shut with a force, and rounded the truck. She slid in behind the wheel and started the engine, but she didn’t put the truck in gear until she saw the rest of her family come out of the house and get into Macy’s car.

She drove down the rutted pathway grown up with weeds and parked close to the back of the house. The aroma of pot roast wafted out across the yard when she unlocked and opened the door, but she didn’t even stop for a cup of coffee. She headed straight for the bathroom, stripped out of her boots and clothing, adjusted the water, and stepped under the spray. Until then she had been too angry to cry, but there was no controlling the tears at that point.

“Men!” she said under her breath when there were no more tears to cry. She got out of the shower, dried, dressed in a T-shirt and a pair of underpants, and fell into bed. In minutes she was dreaming of moving from the house where she’d lived her whole life to a huge mansion in a gated community.

“Hey, girl, dinner is on the table.” Grace’s voice woke her, and for just a split second, she was still in that big, beautiful house all alone. She didn’t want to live in a huge place by herself, but it made her happy that Grace was there.

“Dinner?” she mumbled as she sat up. “What time is it?”

“Twelve thirty. Your eyes are bloodshot and swollen. Have you been crying, or are you hungover?” Grace asked. “We missed you at church this morning.”

Sarah slung her legs over the edge of the bed. Everything from a few hours before washed over her, bringing with it all the emotions again. She felt herself age ten years in those moments, and she still couldn’t imagine telling her sweet cousin what she had seen. “We need to talk. Where’s Macy?”

“With Neal,” Grace answered. “Are you all right? You look horrible, Sister. Has someone died?”

“Are you sure Macy isn’t here?” Sarah asked.

“Positive,” Grace replied with a worried look on her face. “Neal is with her, so she’s okay. They were going out to dinner; then she was hoping that they would look at some houses to buy. She can’t stand the idea of living in a hotel permanently, even if the room is like a small apartment. Neal says that his job requires him to be on call all the time, especially after-hours at night, but Macy wants to raise a family in a house with a white picket fence and a yard.”