by Sophie Oak
“If that was punishment, Sam,” she began with a grin, “you tell Jack I’m gonna be a very bad girl.”
Chapter Eight
Walter Echols valiantly managed to not roll his eyes as his mother joined her small group of friends. Not a one of them was younger than seventy, and he liked to think of them as a school of blue-haired barracudas.
There were five of them, not counting his mother, and they met each week at the First Methodist Church of Willow Fork. Walter wondered why it had ever been called First. It seemed silly since he expected there never would be a second. There was a Presbyterian church on the other side of town, but it was attended by the blue collars of Willow Fork. Sometimes Walter wished he could be counted as one of those hard-working men and women. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy his family’s money. He enjoyed a good car and fine dining as much as the next person. But in a small town, money wasn’t simply something he enjoyed.
Money defined who he was in Willow Fork, and he had a duty to it.
One of the barracudas broke from the group and began swimming toward him. She was using a walker to do it, but Walter still felt the menace. Even an ancient barracuda still had teeth. They might have been purchased, but they were sharp. This was one of those times when not having money would work in his favor. Hillary Glass slowly worked her way toward him, an indignant gleam in her eye. If he was a regular Joe, he would be free to flee. But he was an Echols, and he had a reputation to uphold.
“Good morning, Mrs. Glass,” he said politely as he looked around the fellowship hall. His wife was talking to the pastor. No help there. He reached mentally for something to say. “How is your son, Lyle?”
Walter smiled broadly, proud of himself for pulling that out of thin air.
“Still queer and going to hell,” the old lady said with a frown. “That’s what happens when you let your son leave a nice place like this and go to college in some godless city.”
Oh, yeah. Walter remembered why he didn’t normally mention Hillary’s son.
Lyle Glass was a flaming homosexual. Funny man. Walter had gone to school with him. Lyle never failed to make his classmates laugh, but he’d been gay long before he’d reached the godless campus of Baylor University. If he recalled correctly, Lyle had moved to Dallas after he finished his undergraduate degree and was working for a large corporation as a manager. Walter would have to look him up the next time he was there. Walter was thirty-five and rapidly discovering this was a time when a man wanted to reconnect with his past. But then, he suspected, the past was exactly what had put the righteous gleam in Hillary Glass’s rheumy eyes.
“What are you doing to protect your poor mother from that tramp?” Hillary’s voice was loud enough that a few people turned to see what was going on.
“I doubt Abigail Moore is coming after my mama,” Walter said evenly.
The thought of Abby actively attempting to hurt his elderly mother was ridiculous. The woman could have had her revenge in a million different ways, yet she hadn’t even sued the family for her daughter’s support. Adam had died with a trust fund, but Abby hadn’t come after it. The truth be told, he’d actually started wondering how he was going to protect Abby from his mama.
Not that he was good at protecting anyone from his mama. Even himself. He loved his wife. Jan was his second wife. He’d been young when he had allowed himself to be shoved into a marriage with the “right” woman. Claire had come from a good, solid family and had been selected by his mother. It had only been a few years after Adam’s death, and he’d been willing to do anything to please his parents. They’d been shell-shocked, and so had he. After Walter graduated from college, he’d let his mother shove him into the next step.
Unfortunately, his mother’s choice of a perfect wife had left him for another man two years into the marriage. When Walter’s mother had tried to come up with another mate, Walter had put his foot down for the first time in his life. Ruby Echols might not have approved of Jan, but ten years and two beautiful kids later, she’d been forced to accept her.
Yes, he loved his wife, but if he’d been single, he would have been all over Abigail Moore like cheese on nachos.
That was one gorgeous woman, even now. He had seen her on a couple of occasions and thought she might even be sexier than she had been then. There was a worldliness about her now that had been absent before. She had confidence that only experience could give a person.
He’d been two years younger than his brother when Hurricane Abby hit, but even at fifteen he’d understood what his big brother saw in the redhead. She was beautiful and loyal. Abby had been funny and always sweet to her boyfriend’s kid brother. She’d been wild. She and Adam had lived a fast life for a small town. They’d been caught drinking at the lake on more than one occasion, and if they were in a parked car, everyone knew not to approach it until it stopped rocking and the windows cleared. Walter could still remember how happy his brother had been once he’d told his parents off and promised he would keep seeing Abby even if they disinherited him.
His parents blamed Abby for Adam’s wildness, but Walter knew his brother better. Adam had been wild long before he got together with a girl from the wrong side of town.
Now she was back, and twenty years hadn’t dimmed his mother’s fury.
“That piece of trash being in this town hurts your mother,” Hillary complained.
“She’s only in town to help her mother get back on her feet.” Walter tried to be reasonable, though he’d already attempted the line of logic on his mom and it hadn’t worked. “Diane Moore broke her hip a while back and had some surgery. She’s been struggling.”
He didn’t mention that Abigail was a registered nurse. Hillary wouldn’t be impressed with her education or experience.
“I don’t care about her,” Hillary said bluntly. “And neither should you. It’s her fault her daughter turned out so vile. You better do something, Walter, or your mother’s friends will step in and do it for you.”
He heard the click-clack of Hillary’s walker as she moved away from him and put his fingers to his temples. Yes, he could feel a migraine coming on. He’d already talked to the sheriff about gently edging Abby out of town. He didn’t want to inundate her with tickets, but she needed to know it would be hard to stay here. She’d been plain in her intention to leave once her work here was done. She wasn’t shoving her way into the upscale social events of Willow Fork. She worked at her friend’s café and helped her mom out. Why his mother couldn’t leave be, he had no idea.
He would have to come up with something else to placate her.
Jan looked over at him and smiled as she picked up their little girl and fixed her four-year-old body to the hip his mother had commented was far too large for a true lady. His mother wouldn’t know a true lady if one bit her in the ass, and Jan had offered to on several occasions. Walter smiled back and wondered when he was going to be a man. His one foray into rebellion had netted him the best woman he’d ever met. He was currently engaged in his second foray. His mother had been dead set against him running for state senate, but Walter wanted out of town so bad he could taste it. Luckily, his father had been all for it before he died last spring. Walter felt bad for Abby, but he needed his mother’s support.
Just this one last time.
Once he got to Austin, all bets were off, he promised himself. But for now, he had to find a way to deal with Abigail Moore.
* * * *
After spending a couple of minutes in the bathroom trying to make sure she didn’t look like a woman who had performed numerous sexual services for two different men, Abby walked back into the kitchen with her head held high.
She was a professional. She had spent years working in one of the toughest ERs in the state, and she could stare down almost anyone. Working as a nurse in the emergency room had prepared her to handle just about anything. If someone gave her that righteous look she’d come to expect, she would treat them like a drunk on a full moon night at John Peter Smit
h Hospital.
“You done with your break, hon?” Len Sawyer gave her a knowing smile as she walked into the kitchen.
He settled a massive stack of bacon on a single plate. He’d been Christa’s short-order cook for ten years. She’d only met him a month ago, but he seemed to have taken a shine to her. He was an older man who was happily married to a beautician. Karen Sawyer had told Abby to come into her shop any time she liked and she would take care of those troublesome grays. Abby had very much appreciated the thought, but instead used a box at home because she didn’t want to put anyone out of business. It was a pain in the butt, but she was also driving to Tyler when she needed anything.
“Yes,” she said with a crisp nod. “I’m quite refreshed and ready to go back to work.”
Sherry bounced into the kitchen, her ponytail bobbing up and down. She called out an order and then turned to Abby. There was a broad smile on her face. “You have got to tell me how you did that. I have been trying to be the meat in that sandwich for ten years.”
“Don’t you go being nasty, girl,” Len warned.
Sherry looked up, completely guileless. She was twenty-five and had no ambitions beyond making her hair appointment next Monday. “I am not being nasty. Well, maybe I am, but this is girl talk. You don’t listen in.” Sherry sighed. “Ten years. I understood in the beginning. I was jail bait, but even after I was all legal and stuff, I couldn’t get them to date me.”
“Them?” Abby was shocked that Sherry knew. It was supposed to be a closely guarded secret.
“Hon, everyone knows those boys are perverts.” Len waved his hand. “I suppose the old church ladies might have cared at one point, but Jack and Sam rebuilt First Presbyterian after that fire a few years back, so they decided to close their mouths. To each their own, I say.”
“It’s not like they haven’t dated.” Sherry wrinkled her cute nose. “Those boys haven’t been celibate, but they tend to be real picky. Well, Sam’s not, but Jack is. They might try to keep it quiet, but this is a small town. Everyone is up in everyone else’s business. Those boys made a public declaration of intent regarding you. It’ll be all over town by the time the Cowboys game is on.”
Her cheeks felt like they were on fire. How was she going to go back out there when everyone knew what she had been doing?
“I’d watch out for Melissa Paul, though,” Sherry warned. “She works at the Walmart a town over. She has wanted to get her hooks into Sam Fleetwood for a long time. Sam went out with her about a year ago, but Jack couldn’t stand her, which tells me he has good taste. Sam broke it off, and she’s been acting like a scalded cat ever since.”
“Sam dated someone without Jack?”
Len nodded as he cracked eggs into a bowl. “Sam is the one who dates. Jack joins them later, if you know what I mean. I just about fell on the floor when he told Kyle Morgan he was serious about you and you were his girlfriend.”
Abby’s jaw dropped. “He said what?”
Sherry’s face lit up. She loved juicy gossip. “Kyle Morgan’s boys asked if you were Jack’s girl, and he said yes. He even smiled when he did it. I didn’t know his face worked that way. Usually Jack is grrrr, and dark and broody. He likes to have a badass reputation.”
“Then the man shouldn’t rescue every stray dog he finds.” Len laughed as he flipped a pancake. “It was hard to stay terrified when I saw him stop that big truck of his to move a turtle out of the road. Let me tell you, Abby, it didn’t take long before the women of this town figured out Jack Barnes was a sucker for a hard luck story. That man has fixed more leaks, roofs, and cars than any one should have. He doesn’t date the way Sam does because he doesn’t have the time.”
“But he does it all with a frown on his face,” Sherry observed. “I suppose he thinks that keeps his image up.” She stared out the window to the dining room. “Gotta go. The natives are restless.”
She walked off, a fresh pot of coffee in her hand.
“He’s a good man.” Len pushed the tray toward her. It was full of pancakes and greasy bacon and runny eggs. It was a heart attack waiting to happen. The nurse in Abby wanted to lecture someone. “So is Sam. A woman could do a lot worse.”
She noted the table number and stopped in her tracks. “Len, we’re going to have to change this order.”
The cook looked back curiously as she explained to him what she was going to need. He shook his head like he wasn’t so sure this was a good idea, but she had a plan. If Jack Barnes was going to announce she was his girlfriend, he was going to have to learn to deal with what that really meant.
Five minutes later, she reloaded the tray herself and got back to work.
* * * *
Jack stared down at the plate Abigail placed in front of him. There were eggs, Canadian bacon, and a bowl of fruit. There was only one problem with it.
“This is not what we ordered.” Jack had been looking forward to a huge breakfast of his usual pancakes, bacon, and fried eggs. He’d worked up an appetite, but it seemed their woman wanted some revenge. His mood took a deep dive. He hadn’t expected that.
“It’s all you’re getting,” she said saucily.
Sam poked at the fruit like it was some foreign thing he’d never seen before rather than chunks of pineapple and melon. He looked at Abigail with a desperate expression on his face. “Where are our pancakes? We ordered pancakes. Come on, Abby. I was nice to you. Jack was the mean one who stole your panties. Punish him.”
Jack’s eyes narrowed on her as she rested her hand on her hip and appeared ready for a fight, which he was willing to give her. “Take this back, Abigail. Bring us what we ordered.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. There are no more pancakes for you here.”
Jack slid out of the booth and stood over her. Now everyone in the café was watching. “Are you telling me we are no longer welcome in this establishment?”
Sam stood behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, almost as if he was ready to pull her out of Jack’s line of fire if he had to. “I’m sure that’s not what she meant, Jack.”
She rolled her pretty hazel eyes. “I’m not kicking you out. Why would I do that? I’m telling you that if I’m your girlfriend, I have certain rights. You’ve taken certain rights and privileges concerning me, and I think I should do the same with you.”
“What privilege is it you’re looking for, Abigail?”
She didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by him as she poked him straight in his chest. “I am claiming the privilege of keeping you alive through tomorrow.” She leaned in and kept her voice low. “Do you have any idea how much lard Len uses? I had to make the egg white omelets myself because he said it was a sin to waste the yolk. If that is the way you eat every day, then you’re a heart attack waiting to happen. I see it every day. Don’t think a thirty-year-old man can’t have a heart attack.”
“But we work on a ranch all day,” Sam argued. “We need a lot of calories.”
“Calories are fine as long as they come from a good source,” she said practically. “You need good, low-fat protein and complex carbohydrates.”
Every muscle in Jack’s body stilled for a moment. He looked into Abigail’s eyes, searching for the truth. “Are you telling me you changed our order because you’re worried about us? Not because you want to get back at me?”
The confusion in her eyes was all he needed. He felt his gut unclench as he realized she was fussing over them.
“Why would I do that? What would I need revenge for? I will get my panties back, though, Jack.” The last part was whispered with a purely feminine promise of retribution, and it caused him to laugh long and hard.
He sat down again, picked up his fork and dug in, giving Sam an encouraging smile.
“It’ll be fine, Sam.” Abigail winked at them. “You’ll find you can survive perfectly well on relatively healthy food. People do it all the time.”
Sam eased into the booth and frowned at the plate. “Who eats fruit for bre
akfast?”
“People who want to live.” She turned to check on another customer, but Jack’s hand reached out and held her.
“We have a date tonight,” he reminded her. She hadn’t actually said yes when they asked her out the day before, but she’d fucked them a couple of times since then, so it seemed a reasonable bet. “We’ll pick you up at seven.”
Abigail sighed and put a hand over the one holding her arm, stroking him as though trying to soothe him. “I can’t leave my mom. I’m sorry. Believe me when I say there’s nothing I would rather do than see the two of you again.”
Sam grinned. “I think you’ll find your mama is playing bingo at the Presbyterian church tonight with her friend Sylvia.”
“But Mom can’t drive and Sylvia won’t be able to support her if she needs help.”
“That’s why one of our ranch hands and his wife are going along with them.” Jack had already solved that problem. “Juan and his wife are very fond of bingo.” They were also fond of the bonuses Jack handed out and had fallen all over themselves to be helpful. “Your mom knows them from church. She’s very excited about getting out of the house.”
“I bet she is,” Abby said in a low drawl. “Are you going to go over and help her with her hair, Jack?”
“If that’s what it takes.” He had the confidence of a man who knew he had all the exits guarded. “Seven o’clock. We’ll go into town. Somewhere nice.”
She seemed to brighten at that and nodded. “Seven it is, then. I’ll be ready, and I think I’ll wear a dress…and maybe some heels.”
She gave them what he was starting to think of as her siren smile. It never failed to get him excited. As she walked away, he felt somewhat responsible for the bounce in her step.
