by Quint, Suzie
Maybe he just needed something outside rodeoing to give him the push he needed to make the leap to retired bull rider. Something to fill the gap. Something to give his life new meaning.
His daughter was almost enough, except he didn’t have her that often. Even if he had, she was growing up. Growing away. He could see it already. Soon, she’d prefer hanging around with her friends instead of her daddy. Then she’d be dating.
Sol’s stomach clenched. He wasn’t looking forward to that. Some young buck would come along far too soon, and she’d be gone. And Sol’s already minor role in her life would shrink even more. He pushed that away, determined not to worry about it yet.
He went back to look out at the ranch yard again. Dammit. What the hell was taking Georgia so long?
He’d barely managed to sleep the night before, thinking about her being back and wondering how long she’d stay. Lying there, lonely in his bed—the same bed they’d shared in their all-too-brief marriage—Sol knew she’d screwed up his life. Again.
Just by appearing, she’d torpedoed any chance of him finding another woman and settling down. And probably for six months after she disappeared, if experience was anything to go by. It happened any time he spent more than a few minutes around her, and thanks to Eden, it was a constantly recurring cycle.
It was late afternoon when Georgia’s blue Kia Rio pulled in. Sol walked out of the barn as the car crunched to a stop on the gravel. His daughter, a ten-year-old—ten? Or was she eleven? No, she couldn’t be that eleven yet—pigtailed version of her blonde mother, bounced out of the car, squealing, “Daddy!” in an octave almost too shrill for human ears.
She’d grown again in the month since he’d last seen her. All long legs and skinny arms, like a new colt, the last growth spurt seemed to have stretched her, making her look as thin as a blade of grass. Sol caught her in his arms, swinging her around once, her legs dangling above the ground. Her sneaker-clad feet banged against his shins.
“How’s my best girl?”
“I’m great! Mama says I get to stay for the summer.”
“You can stay as long as you want. You know that,” Sol said into his daughter’s smiling face. As soon as he heard his words, he looked toward Georgia to see if he was in trouble for making such a rash promise, but she was still in the car, gathering Eden’s things. Sol let go of a relieved breath.
“They’re here!” Sol’s eighteen-year-old sister, Daisy, yelled into the house from the back porch, and Eden was off again, racing to greet her aunt.
Wishing he could keep his distance even as he was drawn to the car to help Georgia with Eden’s things, Sol’s heart skipped a couple of beats. Georgia leaned into the back hatch, her shorts exposing her long, tanned legs. As though that wasn’t enough, the fabric pulled tight across her heart-shaped ass. Sol had a momentary fantasy that involved taking her from behind, pounding his flesh unmercifully into hers. Doing the most mundane things, she always managed to give him a hard-on; it was only fair he give it back to her.
He stifled a groan along with the thought and took the case she’d pulled out of the car. “God, I hate this car.”
“Don’t start on the car, Sol.” Her voice was tired, and now that she’d turned toward him, he saw the weariness in her face.
But fighting was good. Anything that kept him from doing something stupid, like putting his arms around her, was good. “It’s too small, Georgia,” he said for the thousandth time since she’d bought the car used. “It’ll crumple like an old beer can if you get into a tussle with anything bigger ‘n a thimble.”
“Sol, I’m a teacher still paying off student loans, not Ivanka Trump. I can’t afford the kind of car you want me to drive.”
“I know that.” He also knew the teachers where Georgia worked weren’t subject to the teachers’ union, so they weren’t paid as well as public schools teachers, but wasn’t that another reason she should let him help? He let his annoyance have free rein. “But you haul my daughter around in it, so why won’t you let me help you buy a better car?”
Her lips thinned, undoubtedly clamping down on some sarcastic response that would ignite his temper and turn their sniping into a full-blown conflagration.
He almost felt sorry for needling her. She was obviously having a tough time with her folks. Then he looked down at the way her generous breasts pulled at her tank top, felt his cock strain against his jeans, and wished he could think of something that would start the kind of fight that would keep them from talking to each other for the next twenty years.
Too bad all the blood had migrated south from his brain.
###
“You’ll stay to supper,” Sol’s mama said as soon as they had Eden settled in Hannah and Leah’s room.
“I can’t,” Georgia objected. She’d known Ruth would invite her, but as soon as Sol started in about the car, she’d seen how he was going to be. “Daddy barely knows how to turn on the oven, and Grams—well, Grams is too absent-minded.”
It would be a relief to spend even a little time someplace where she wasn’t expected to wait on someone but not if Sol was going to be critical. Why couldn’t he just put his arms around her and make her feel as though he was there for her?
Ruth McKnight snorted. “Men can be so helpless.” Georgia appreciated the moral support, though she knew Ruth had taught her boys to be as self-sufficient as the girls. “Next week, then. You’ll throw something in a Crock-Pot. Something your daddy only has to dish up.”
“That would be nice,” Georgia agreed. It would be even nicer if Sol wasn’t there since he couldn’t be supportive.
She hugged Eden, promised to see her soon, and waved good-bye as she got into her car. It growled when she started it. God, please don’t let anything be wrong with the car. She couldn’t afford it, financially or emotionally. If the car went belly-up, she’d be tempted to let Sol make good on his offer. And he would. If she believed it was about keeping Eden safe, she’d have let him help buy a better car but it wasn’t. It was about keeping her tied to him, about him being more than just her ex-husband.
He was a stubborn man who should have married a nice, compliant Betty Crocker type, not a woman who could match him stubborn for stubborn.
###
“Hey, monster.” Sol sat down on the porch step next to his daughter. Her lips were already stained blue from the Popsicle his mama had given her after supper. “What’s that thoughtful look on your face about? You missin’ your mama already?” She’d been gone only a couple of hours, but Eden and Georgia were close.
Eden leaned against his shoulder with a solid bump. “I wish she could stay here, too. Grandma and Grandpa are always grumpy.”
“People usually are when they don’t feel good. Your grandma’s going to take a while to get better, and that’s got everyone frustrated.”
“But that’s not Mama’s fault.”
Sol slid his arm around her. “I know. It ain’t nobody’s fault. It just is.”
Eden seemed to think about that for a several seconds before asking, “Then why’s Aunt Beth mad at a Mama?”
“Is she?” Sol pulled back to look at his daughter.
Eden shrugged. “She says she’s done her share and now it’s Mama’s turn. She says she’s got too much to do at home. But Mama came as soon as she could.”
That surprised Sol. Sure, Georgia’s younger sister had three kids, but she’d always been one for pitching in. He couldn’t imagine her not helping, even if she couldn’t be there full time. Then again, he was probably biased. He liked Bethany. She was the only one of Georgia’s family who always acted happy to see him when he ran into her in town. Then again, grumpiness was contagious. If she’d been taking care of her folks since the stroke, Bethany was probably infected, too.
“I wouldn’t worry too much about that,” Sol said. “Sisters fight sometimes. Then they get over it. You’re sharing a room with Hannah and Leah, so you’ll see. And if Bethany doesn’t help your mama, then we’ll have to.”
Eden frowned. “They don’t like you neither. Grandma and Grandpa, I mean. And not just when they’re not feeling good.”
Of course they didn’t. He was the one who’d ruined their daughter’s life. “I know, honey. It don’t matter. But I don’t mean just you and me. All of us McKnights’ll help.”
Eden nodded solemnly. “That’d be good.” She offered him a lick on her Popsicle. Sol took it then planted a blue kiss on his daughter’s forehead.
Chapter Four
Maybe Sol will be in a better mood after a week with Eden, Georgia thought as she drove the last stretch of road to her ex-in-laws.
Though they talked every day, Georgia wasn’t getting much more than a light sketch of her daughter’s day before some activity with one of Sol’s younger siblings pulled Eden from the phone. She was glad her daughter was having a good time with Sol’s family, but it got lonely hearing, “Mom, I’ve got to go. Hannah’s going to do my nails.” Or “Mom, I’ve got to go. Grandma’s letting me collect the eggs.” Or “Mom, I’ve got to go. We’re riding to that old house up the road. Leah says it’s haunted.”
She wished she could grab her daughter and go all the way back to Dallas.
Earlier, while she’d waited for her mother to finish her therapy, Georgia had called Daniel. Commiserating on the phone with him about their absent children was a comfort. Like Georgia, he talked to his daughter every day on the phone and had even spoken to his ex a few times.
“Is that weird for you?” Georgia had asked.
“Kind of,” he’d admitted. “She seems more like the woman I married. I keep waiting for her to blind-side me with her Mr. Hyde personality, but . . .” He took a deep breath. “So far, Deanne seems happy to be with her.”
“And what would you do if she wasn’t?”
“I’d bring Deanne home,” he said without a moment’s hesitation. “Whether that’s fair to Tracy or not. Deanne comes first.”
That was the answer Georgia wanted to hear. Daniel was exactly the kind of man she wanted Eden to model her ideal man after. He would never consider doing something as stupid as riding a bull.
Georgia had already decided heating things up over the phone was a bad idea. She needed to be able to see him, to read the clues on his face that would tell her whether he was willing to go where she wanted. If he thought it was yucky, as the girls would say, she needed to know when to stop, so she didn’t embarrass herself as well as him. But maybe she could risk laying a little groundwork. “I’ve been thinking . . .”
“What?”
“It’s just . . . I’d really like Eden to have a live-in daddy. I think it’s important to give her that.”
There was a slight pause before he asked, “Are you thinking about getting back with Sol?”
“What? Sol? Oh, no!” Damn. That wasn’t supposed to be his go-to thought on the subject. But then there’d been that little pause before he’d asked. Maybe he was worried she’d fall back into Sol’s arms. “That’s a mistake I don’t need to make again.” There. That should reassure him.
“I hear you.”
That was enough risk-taking, Georgia thought, so she’d let the conversation drift to other topics.
She wished, not for the first time, that she could be sure Daniel would welcome turning their friendship into a romantic relationship. Would it irrevocably damage the friendship? That would be awkward since their daughters were so close.
And one incident of kissing and groping didn’t necessarily mean anything more than that Daniel was a guy and he’d felt the need for some comfort. Heck, alcohol had even been involved.
She pulled into the McKnights’ ranch yard, parked her car in front of the house, and decided to stop thinking so much about Daniel and what might be. Living with her parents and taking care of her mother was all she could deal with at the moment.
Georgia checked her makeup in the rearview mirror before getting out of the car. When she got to the back porch, she saw Ruth in the garden behind the house and went out there instead. They exchanged greetings and the obligatory “how’s everyone” updates.
“Sure wish it would rain,” Ruth said as she took a hoe to one of the trenches that ran between the rows of tomato plants. “I get tired of watering this here garden.”
“Daddy says he’s worried he’ll have a poor yield on the hay as dry as it’s been,” Georgia said.
Ruth nodded. “Us, too. It’s been so dry, the trees been chasing the dogs.” She sighed. “I wish we hadn’t bought that land from the Gundersons. We could use that cash if we have to buy feed for the cattle.”
Sol had mentioned his daddy’s “land lust” more than once.
Ruth leaned on her hoe. “Eden’s watching Gideon shoe a horse for Daisy. Why don’t you head on over to the smithy?”
“I’ll do that,” Georgia said, eager to see her daughter.
She found Eden holding the halter while Sol’s brother Gideon braced the horse’s foreleg between his knees as he fit the shoe on the hoof.
“Hey, Mama,” Eden said softly.
“Hey, sugar dumplin’.” Though she wanted to wrap Eden in her arms, Georgia knew better than to startle the horse. She sat down on the rough plank bench next to Daisy. “How’s it feel to be a free woman?” she asked Sol’s dark-haired sister who had graduated high school in May.
“It feels great,” Daisy put down the latest Horse & Rider magazine. “Hard to believe I ain’t got to go back in the fall.”
Georgia repressed a smile. Daisy was fully capable of speaking grammatically correct English, but she shared that rebel streak that ran through the McKnight clan and liked to express it as poor grammar.
“You’re not going to college?” She didn’t know why she even asked. Daisy was the eighth of the thirteen McKnight kids, and so far, only Jake had gone on to college. Even so, he wasn’t going to escape the ranch. In his second year of veterinary school, he’d be through before she knew it.
Daisy wrinkled her nose. “I’m tired of school.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“Horses,” Daisy said with her usual confidence. “I’m going to train barrel racers.”
She should have known. Cut a McKnight, and they bled rodeo.
“Did you know a proven barrel racer will go for fifty thousand dollars?” Daisy asked. “Sometimes even more.”
“Yes, but a newly trained horse isn’t a proven racer.”
“Everyone starts somewhere. And if the trainer’s got a good enough reputation and puts out winners, they can make a nice living. I’m gonna get there. Just like Aunt Del.”
“Aunt Del?” Georgia hadn’t been married to Sol long enough to get to know his extended family.
“Daddy’s sister. Aunt Del’s been training barrel racers for nearly twenty years. She trained all Cissy O’Keefe’s horses when she rode the circuit.”
As hard as Georgia ignored rodeo, she still recognized Cissy O’Keefe’s name. The three-time World Barrel Racing Champion had retired a few years back. Georgia hadn’t known about the connection to the McKnights, but sometimes it seemed as though the six degrees of separation that supposedly connected everyone on the planet got chopped in half with rodeo people.
“You’d rather train than ride?” Georgia asked.
“Yeah. Aunt Del says I got the right attitude. She’s been coaching me. I’m going to be as good as she is.”
Georgia didn’t dare doubt it. Daisy had always been determined. Sol called her stubborn. It was two sides of the same coin in Georgia’s opinion, and it was a McKnight family trait. “So who’ll ride these horses that are going to build your reputation?”
“Leah wants to. I told her she could ride the one I’m training now as long as she works hard and doesn’t get too attached to the horses.”
Leah was only fourteen, but apparently she was already showing signs of the family’s obsession.
“I’ve been helping, Mama,” Eden said.
“What?” Georgia’s heart plummete
d, leaving an empty spot in her chest. No way did she want her daughter seduced into the rodeo life.
“And a great help you’ve been, too,” Daisy said. To Georgia she added, “Eden’s been getting up early and feeding Spitfire and mucking out her stall.”
Georgia’s heart returned to its proper location. Daisy was determined but she was also notoriously hard to get out of bed in the morning. It wouldn’t hurt Eden to do chores for her aunt. How long would it take her daughter to figure out she was the grunt labor?
While they’d been talking, Gideon had been tapping nails into the horseshoe. Another McKnight who hadn’t been interested in college, he’d trained as a farrier. With blacksmithing, a little welding, and some experience floating horses’ teeth thrown in, he had a solid customer base among the local ranchers. If the boys kept choosing ranch-related occupations, the McKnights soon wouldn’t need to call in any outside help.
“Where’s Sol?” Georgia asked.
“He’s over at the Blake place,” Gideon said, still focusing on the horse’s hoof. “They wanted that bull we bought a while back to cover the cows they got in heat. Sol and Zach took the bull over there. Don’t know if they’ll be back for supper. Old Man Blake’s quite a yakker.”
Georgia tried to suppress her smile. Everyone was a yakker compared to Gideon.
No slouch at yakking himself when the subject was bulls and breeding, maybe Sol would stay away late enough that she wouldn’t see him at all.
###
Sol dropped Zach off at the modular home his brother shared with Maddie and their two kids half a mile from their folks’ place. The aftertaste of his own failed marriage had caused Sol some concern when Zach had brought Maddie home, but she was damn near the perfect rancher’s wife. She understood about things like being late to supper.
He slowed approaching the ranch driveway. Yup, there was Georgia’s tin can. Sol shifted gears and drove past. He’d clean up at his trailer and go into town to eat at The Road Kill Cafe. Maybe stop off at The Lariat for a drink. That sounded like a better plan than having Georgia ruin his mood with her don’t-touch attitude.
