A Dark & Stormy Knight: A McKnight Romance (McKnight Romances)

by Quint, Suzie

  “How long will it take?” Georgia asked as Sol unhooked the car beside the shed where they worked on the ranch equipment.

  “I’m betting it’s the alternator. If it is, it shouldn’t take more than an hour to change. I’ll call the parts house when they open tomorrow and see if they got one in stock.”

  Georgia touched his arm. “I know this isn’t a big deal to you, but I really appreciate it.”

  “Okay. Then next time, you buy me a beer at The Lariat.”

  Georgia winced at the memory of her last visit there. “This is worth more than a beer.”

  Sol dropped his gaze to meet hers. “How much more?”

  The speculation she saw in his eyes made her take a step back. “Not that much more.”

  One of his eyebrows twitched. “I was just asking.” He turned around and sat on the truck’s lowered tailgate. “So what is it worth?”

  Chapter Seven

  Had she really thought he was talking about sex? Well, well. Wasn’t that interesting? Was his ex-wife’s mind wandering into the bedroom?

  The Opportunistic Bastard in his jeans sat up and paid attention. Down, Obie.

  “Uh, well, I guess I could afford—”

  “I don’t want your money. That’d be like taking food out of my daughter’s mouth.”

  “What do you want?”

  He looked down at the toe of his cowboy boot as he scuffed a smooth patch into the dirt. Now that she’d put the thought there, everything he could think of led right into the bedroom. Not that his mind was ever very far from it around her. “How ‘bout the next time you go to The Lariat, you call me. We can have a few drinks together.”

  “I’m surprised you’d want to after my last memorable excursion there.”

  Sol looked up at her and grinned. “Well, maybe I can make sure you don’t drink too much.” And maybe he could make sure she had just enough. Then he remembered why she was drinking like that. “Is it really that bad at your folks’?”

  Georgia sighed. “I’ve been gone too long. Eden’s not half as demanding as my parents. I’m used to having more time to myself.”

  When she bit her bottom lip, the desire to take over that chore himself was nearly irresistible.

  “It feels wrong, seeing one of your parents helpless. Mama needs help—” She bit off whatever she’d been about to say. “With just about everything.”

  Sol was glad she hadn’t shared the details. He was even gladder he had four sisters. If his own mother ever became seriously dependent, he wouldn’t have to help her bathe. Or worse.

  “That’s gotta wear on you,” he said. “No wonder your drinking got outta hand.”

  “It didn’t get out of hand,” she said harshly.

  He chuckled. “You were drunk, Georgia. You threw up in the ladies’ restroom. Or is that how you planned to end your evening?”

  She frowned at him. Georgia never liked having her flaws pointed out. She relented anyway. “No, it’s not how I planned it. I didn’t even plan to stop there. It was an impulse.”

  “Well, it was a good one. You need time away from your folks. Knocking back a few’s a good way to decompress.”

  It wasn’t as good as sex, but it worked. And who knew? If she gave him a chance, maybe he could help her decompress some more. His lips twitched. If he kept thinking this way, he might be able to convince himself he was doing her a favor.

  ###

  “Be sure and call me when you want to hit the bar,” Sol said as she got out of his truck at her folks’ house.

  “Sure,” Georgia said, not meaning it at all. She felt a little guilty about her unwillingness to have a few drinks with him. He wasn’t asking a lot, but it didn’t take a Nobel prize–winning astrophysicist to figure out it would be a stupid thing to do. She was far too vulnerable right now, which made it hard to be as indifferent to him as she liked to be.

  Without her car, it didn’t take long for her to feel trapped. She didn’t have any place she needed to go, but not having the option had her wanting to crawl out of her skin. Her daddy’s car was there, but she’d have to explain where she was going.

  Childhood never ended, she decided. Not when you were under your parents’ roof. The longer she was there, the more she felt like an irresponsible teenager. It didn’t matter who she’d become, who she was elsewhere. It didn’t even matter that she was taking care of them now, instead of the other way around.

  As always, she included her parents, Eden, and even Sol in her nightly prayers. Then, although so many people needed things far worse than she needed her car, she added a prayer that she’d get it back soon.

  ###

  Her sister hadn’t stopped by once since Georgia had taken over their mother’s care, so she was surprised to see Bethany pull into the driveway mid-morning. Knowing Bethany would let herself in without knocking, Georgia continued chopping carrots for the Crock-Pot stew she was planning for supper.

  “Hey, Grams.” Bethany dropped a kiss on their grandmother’s cheek as she passed through the living room where the TV was tuned to the daytime Family Feud. “How’s it going?” she asked when she reached the kitchen. She dropped her carpetbagger purse on the table and pulled out a chair opposite their mother.

  “Whatcha got there, Mama?” she asked without waiting for an answer to her first question.

  Both questions were largely rhetorical. Georgia had given her mama a bowl of snap beans. Snapping off the ends was slow and methodical work that exercised her mama’s motor skills. Her mother muttered something unintelligible then slapped her hand on the table to get Georgia’s attention.

  Bethany frowned when Georgia moved the pad and pen her mama pointed at from the counter to the table in from of her mother. Yes, she was supposed to encourage her to stop relying on written messages so much, but Georgia had the energy for only so many battles a day.

  Her mother scratched letters in the spidery script that was now her handwriting then turned it toward Bethany. Wy U here?

  “I just stopped in for a visit. That’s okay, isn’t it?”

  Their mama made a throaty noise that Georgia had learned pretty much meant Why ask me? You’ll do what you want anyway.

  “Of course, it is,” Georgia said. Though she was still stung by Bethany’s unwillingness to help the day before, she didn’t want to say anything that would agitate her mother. Instead, she commented on the change in her sister’s appearance. “You’ve colored your hair.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “I do.”

  The sandy-brown hair Bethany had inherited from Daddy was now a rich, dark-chocolate color. The first time Bethany had colored it had been right before Eden was born. Bethany had spent the night with her best friend and come home a fiery redhead. The way their mama had carried on, one would have thought Bethany had come home pregnant with no idea who the daddy was. When Bethany had refused to change it back, Mama had insisted Georgia talk to her sister. It hadn’t taken thirty seconds for Georgia to figure out that the red hair was an act of rebellion.

  No dummy, Bethany knew Mama was behind their discussion, and pink streaks had appeared within days. The funny thing was that Bethany had been pretty in her rebellious hair.

  They’d been chatting only a couple of minutes when their mother wrote on the tablet again and pushed it toward Georgia.

  Water.

  “I’ll get it.” Bethany started to stand.

  “No!” The word came out surprisingly clear. Their mama pointed at Georgia.

  “I’ve got it covered.” Georgia knew if she looked at Bethany, her sister would roll her eyes, so she focused on getting a glass from the cupboard and filling it with tap water. Before she could set it in front of her, her mama was already writing Ice on the tablet. Georgia went back and added ice from the freezer.

  There was a short, uncomfortable pause in the conversation while Georgia and Bethany pointedly didn’t mention their mother’s demanding ways. Georgia felt as if Bethany’s silence accused her of somethi
ng. She didn’t like the feeling, especially since she didn’t know what she was doing wrong.

  “I didn’t see your car outside,” Bethany said. “Did you figure out what was wrong with it?”

  Georgia took a breath, glad they’d moved on to a new topic. “The alternator went out. Sol’s got it out at the ranch, waiting for one to come in.”

  Their mother made a disparaging snort. She reached for the pen, but her hand caught on the rim of the bowl of beans, tipping it into the glass. Ice and water poured onto the table, washing snap beans over the edge onto the floor.

  Bethany scrambled to keep the mess from spreading while Georgia grabbed a roll of paper towels. “Survey says . . .” The sounds from Grams’ game show came through clearly as they sopped up the water and threw ice cubes in the sink.

  A part of Georgia frayed a little more every time one of these accidents happened, but one look at her mother’s trembling lower lip made her bite her tongue.

  Her mother had always been a master manipulator, using emotions like a whip. Before the stroke, Georgia wouldn’t have believed the trembling lip. She had just enough doubt now to keep herself from voicing her suspicions.

  When everything was under control, she put a hand on her mother’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Mama. No damage done.”

  Bethany threw her last paper towel away and opened the cupboard where the glasses were kept. After a moment of rummaging, she reached into the back and pulled out a plastic sippy cup. She filled it with ice water and set it on the table.

  Her mother’s lips went from trembly to thin and tight. Bethany watched closely enough to see it too and picked the cup up, rescuing it from her mother’s swipe.

  “I know,” Bethany said, “but you get treated the way you act, and right now, you’re acting like a child.”

  Georgia drew a sharp breath as her sister set the cup back down. In another of the mercurial mood swings that made Georgia question the authenticity of her mother’s emotional display, her shoulders slumped.

  Bethany walked into the living room. A second later, she was back. “Grams is going to sit with you for a few minutes, Mama.” Bethany tipped her head toward the back door. That suited Georgia fine. She had a few things to say to her sister.

  “Before you start,” Bethany said as soon as they were outside, “I want to apologize about yesterday. I should have been more supportive, but we’d had a tough morning, and I couldn’t face having to deal with Mama. I’m still in recovery mode from taking care of her before you got home.”

  Not quite ready to accept Bethany’s apology, Georgia decided to ignore it for the moment. “You were kind of harsh with Mama in there, don’t you think?”

  “And you let her walk all over you,” Bethany sat down on the stoop. “Let me tell you something. You’re not going to survive the summer if you don’t grow a backbone and stand up to her.”

  Georgia looked down at her sister. “I have a backbone. I just pick my battles.”

  Bethany snorted. “You can do that with Eden maybe but not Mama. You let her win one, and everything’s a battle. Stop trying to tower over me and sit down.”

  Georgia sat. “You don’t have to bait her.”

  “Bait her?”

  “The sippy cup. That hurt her feelings.”

  “She was being petulant.”

  That was true. “It was actually kind of brilliant, too,” Georgia admitted. “I’m embarrassed I didn’t think of it.”

  “I wish I could take credit for it, then, but I can’t. The physical therapist suggested it.”

  “Oh.”

  “But you’re right. I do bait Mama.” She put up both hands as if being held up at gunpoint. “I know. I shouldn’t but sometimes I can’t help it. It’s like this gift, you know? A chance to say what I really think without her being able to snap back at me. Maybe it makes me a horrible person that I can’t always pass it by.”

  “No, I don’t think you’re horrible. Mama’s always been difficult, but I can’t do it,” Georgia said. “She’s struggling so hard. I’d feel like I was kicking her while she was down.”

  “I know you have a hard time standing up to Mama, but you need to do better. Don’t let her get away with so much.”

  “I’ll try. And about yesterday. Apology accepted.”

  ###

  It hadn’t taken Sol an hour to realize Georgia had agreed too easily to having drinks with him. Damn, she was stubborn. But so was he. Figuring it would take about three days for cabin fever to set in bad enough for her to call him, he lied and told her the parts house had to order the alternator. Then he took his time changing it.

  By Wednesday afternoon, he was tired of waiting.

  “Hey, Georgia,” he said when she answered her cell phone. “Mama wants you to come to supper tonight.”

  She sighed heavily into the phone. “I would so love to, but we’re at the physical therapist’s, and Daddy’ll starve if I don’t feed him.”

  “Pick them up some fried chicken at the store. You need a break, and he needs a reminder to appreciate you more. C’mon. Come to supper. I’ll come get you.”

  “I wish I could.” She sounded so soul weary that Sol felt a wash of guilt, strong as a coastal undertow.

  “You know, Georgia, if there’s anything I can do to help, to make things easier on you, all you gotta do is ask.”

  “Thanks. You don’t know how much I appreciate that.”

  “But you ain’t coming to supper, are you?”

  “I can’t.”

  He sighed. “Okay. Eden misses you.”

  Her voice went tight and hard. “That’s a low blow, Sol.”

  He was startled at her response. She wasn’t normally so touchy. “I didn’t mean it that way. I just wanted you to know she loves you.”

  Her voice softened. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m just tired. And I miss her.”

  Aw, hell.

  “You need to get out.”

  “I will. As soon as I get my car back. The alternator has to come in tomorrow, right?”

  “I’m sure it will.” After he hung up, he felt so bad about the tough time she was having, he knew he had to give her car back even though she hadn’t cracked.

  Supper was long over and dusk was turning to dark when his phone rang. He answered it to hear Georgia, sounding as though she’d reached the end of her rope. “I can’t take it anymore. Come get me.”

  Finally. He wanted to whoop into the phone, but that would ruin the image of cool he was trying to hold on to. “I’ll be right there, darlin’.”

  Sol raced to his truck and sped over the back roads. He slowed when her folks’ place came in sight even though, as quick as he got there, she couldn’t help knowing he hadn’t wasted any time.

  He pulled in front of the house. Georgia broke from the porch so fast, he knew she’d been watching for him.

  Her door wasn’t even closed before she yelled, “Go! Go!”

  Sol turned the truck in a tight circle then goosed it. The tires spit gravel, and he felt like the getaway driver at a bank robbery.

  When the tires were humming on pavement, he glanced at Georgia. She was staring out the window, her fisted fingers pressed against her mouth. “What’s wrong, honey?”

  “I—” She cleared her throat. “I yelled at Mama.”

  “Oh.” That was serious. Georgia rarely yelled at anyone but him.

  “I haven’t yelled at her since I was a teenager. I just lost it. And she looked so hurt.” She turned toward him. “How could I have done that to her?”

  Sol laid his hand on her knee. “You didn’t mean it, honey. I’m sure she knows that.”

  “No, she doesn’t. I made her cry, Sol. I made my mama cry.”

  The way her voice broke, she wasn’t far from tears herself. He pulled onto the shoulder of the road, killed the engine, and pulled her into his arms. That was all it took for the waterworks to bust loose. He held her as she cried out the top layer of battered emotions. His heart ached for her even as his
arms rejoiced to be holding her. When she finally wound down, he dug into his pocket for his handkerchief. As she wiped the tears from her cheeks, he asked, “Better?”

  She sniffed. “A little.”

  “Blow your nose, honey, and let’s go have a drink.”

  “Okay,” she agreed in a wobbly voice.

  He wondered what she’d have said if he’d offered her sex instead.

  Chapter Eight

  Georgia felt a little more like herself after the first drink. Sol seemed to understand that her current life was the last thing she wanted to talk about. He sat next to her in a booth and entertained her with family stories, his rodeo exploits, and gossip about the kids they’d gone to school with, and she was grateful.

  At moments like this, he seemed so much like the boy she’d fallen in love with in high school.

  Georgia hadn’t dated much in school. She’d been the girl who developed breasts first. At first, the boys had been too intimidated to ask her out. Even after the other girls were out of their training bras, she was the one with “the rack.” The boys seemed to care only about her cup size. They’d been either clumsy or sly about trying to feel her up. Both approaches left her feeling dirty and used. Second dates had been rare.

  Like the other boys, when Sol had spoken to her, he’d talked to her chest. Then—miraculously—one day in the middle of their senior year, he’d lifted his gaze and looked into her eyes, and it had all changed. Not that she hadn’t caught him looking at her chest after that, but at least he didn’t talk to it.

  She’d found herself wishing he’d ask her out, but he never did. They would greet each other in the halls when they passed at school or occasionally talk about an assignment.

  Then one day, about four months before graduation, she’d needed a ride home. He was there, so she’d asked him. When she’d mentioned that her after-school chores included feeding the cattle in the north corral, he offered to help.