Sunny glanced away. “I guess I was well liked.”
“Is that why you came back to Latham Green after four years of college?”
“My parents still lived here.”
“Then. But not now.”
“No, not now.”
“Not since you marched out of the Baptist church and left your bridegroom standing at the altar.”
Sunny glared at him. “Well, that answers my question. I see that George was talkative.”
“Can you blame him? That’s quite a story. I don’t recall ever hearing about another bride who, when asked, ‘Will you...’ et cetera, said, ‘No, I don’t believe I will,’ and turned on her heel and marched down the aisle and out of the church, leaving everybody, the bridegroom included, flabbergasted.”
Sunny’s cheeks were fiery and it had nothing to do with the slight sunburn she was getting. Memories overwhelmed her. Like quagmires in the nearby swamp, they had been concealed, waiting for her to slip and fall into them so they could suck her under and smother her.
“That took a lot of guts,” Ty said, watching her closely.
She had thought he might laugh at her or joke about the bizarre way she had halted her wedding ceremony. Instead he looked almost commiserative. Well, she appreciated his not making fun of her, but she sure as hell didn’t need his pity.
“I couldn’t marry him.”
“I don’t think I could, either. If I were a woman, that is. Don Jenkins is as dry and crusty as yesterday’s toast. He would never have satisfied a sensuous woman like you. He wouldn’t even know where to start.”
Scooting on his bottom, Ty moved closer to her. “It just seems to me that you would have known that before the preacher posed that all-important question. I mean, there you were in your long, white lace wedding dress.”
“It was ecru,” she corrected absently. Lost in memory, she picked at the frayed hem of her beach towel.
“From what George told me, everybody in town was there.”
“Yes.”
“Why’d you do it, Sunny?”
Memories and lethargy were swept away by a sudden clarity. Her head snapped up. Her eyes were glowing like hot coals. “None of your damn business, Mr. Bea
umont.”
A laugh started as a low rumble deep in his chest. “And apparently nobody else’s, either. To this day no one has figured it out. There’s been speculation, of course.”
“I’m sure there has been.”
“Like a baby.”
“What?” Sunny’s breath rushed out. She had to drag it back before she could add, “They think I was pregnant?”
“According to George, that was everybody’s first guess. You left because you couldn’t bear the shame.”
“Latham Green isn’t that far behind the times. Lots of girls have been pregnant on their wedding day.”
“But the babies belonged to the men they were marrying.”
Sunny only stared at him in speechless amazement. “You mean everybody thought...” She couldn’t even verbalize the scandalous idea.
Ty shrugged. “It was mentioned that the baby belonged to someone besides Don.”
Disgusted with the fertile imaginations of small-town minds, Sunny said, “There was no baby, for heaven’s sake. Don’s or anyone else’s.”