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

by Quint, Suzie

  “I don’t think so. We been going ‘round together for three years now. She says it’s time to shit or get off the pot.”

  Sol snorted his amusement. “A romantic girl, your Molly.”

  “She has her moments.”

  “So . . . what? You want me to give you my blessing or to talk you out of it?”

  “Hell, I don’t need you to talk me out of nothin’. I know all the reasons it’s a bad idea. I may be slow, but I learned a few things when me and Cathy crashed and burned.” Cathy being his ex-wife. “Rodeoin’s ‘bout the toughest thing there is on a marriage, but Molly wants a ring.”

  Sol had seen enough examples of that to know the truth of Terry’s statement. Cowboys, on the road for months, leaving their wives at home, alone or with kids. Women got tired of it. Men came home to find their women gone or, worse, that they’d been replaced.

  Of course, it wasn’t uncommon for a cowboy to succumb to the temptations of the road themselves. Buckle bunnies were always available, and even the men who didn’t seek them out, like Sol and Terry, were susceptible to the comfort offered when they’d had a string of bad rides.

  The waitress returned with Sol’s beer, her smile all for Terry, but Terry’s mind had shifted gears. The smile he gave her back wasn’t as inviting as it had been before. She picked up Sol’s dead soldier and disappeared.

  “So Molly wants a ring,” Sol said. “Or what?”

  Terry flicked him a look that said he wasn’t happy to acknowledge there was an “or what,” but Sol knew there always was one.

  “Or she’s gonna start seeing other guys,” Terry said grimly.

  “She want you to quit rodeoin’?” Sol asked.

  “She ain’t said so, but I figure that’s coming.”

  Sol waited to see if this was Terry’s way of working up to telling him he was quitting.

  “The thing is,” Terry said, “I’m on a hot streak, and if I stay healthy, I could make the finals.”

  Which could lead to a gold championship buckle. Or, in noncowboy parlance, the brass ring. Terry wouldn’t quit while he had a shot at that.

  “But I don’t want Molly seeing other guys either,” Terry said.

  Which meant that, even knowing the odds were against them, Terry was probably going to marry her.

  “She’ll give you an ultimatum,” Sol said. “Sooner or later. They always do.”

  “Yeah,” Terry agreed. “Sooner or later.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Georgia sat on the concrete step of her parent’s back porch, her cell pressed against her ear. The line rang three times, and just before it kicked over to voice mail, Daniel answered.

  They’d fallen into a pattern of talking every few days, so she’d already moaned to him about her decision to let Eden ride in the barrel racing. He’d commiserated but only for a few seconds, then he’d pointed out the positives she hadn’t allowed herself to consider. Things like how hard work and competition built character and self-esteem. He was right, of course, but he’d been so calm and rational, she’d wanted to drown him like a litter of unwanted kittens.

  “Update me on your soap opera. How’s the Tommy situation?” he said, pumping her for details the way only women usually did.

  “It’s a mess. One minute, Missy acts as though her heart’s breaking because we went out; the next, she’s treating him like he’s a wife beater.”

  “How’s he holding up?”

  “Surprisingly well once he figured out it was mostly her pride that was hurt. I think she got off on being able to lead him around by the nose—”

  “It’s not his nose she’s been leading him around by,” Daniel said with a snicker.

  Georgia ignored him. “So now she’s pissed that he’s standing up for himself.”

  “It sounds like you did a good deed there. I’m proud of you.”

  His praise warmed her, but she was still disappointed she hadn’t gotten even a hint of jealousy from him. Was he that certain of her, or was he really not interested?

  When they were first getting to know each other, he’d told her he had no intention of remarrying. She’d figured he’d change his mind once the pain of the divorce faded. She still believed that.

  Maybe it was time to risk a little. “I think Tommy’s going to bounce back just fine. I’ll even bet he remarries before Missy does.”

  “You playing matchmaker for him?”

  Georgia scowled at the phone. What was wrong with this man? Didn’t it even occur to him that Tommy might see her as potential wife material? If she’d made a comment half as provocative to Sol, he’d have been busting-out-all-over jealous. But no, not Daniel. “No, but I don’t think he’s going to let Missy ruin his life.” She paused then decided she needed to know. If he answered with a vehement no, maybe she should scrap her plans. She struggled to keep her voice even. “What about you? Are you still dead set against getting married again?”

  “What’s going on here, Georgia? What’s all this talk about getting married? Are you missing the sound of wedding bells?”

  Damn. She’d worked up her nerve to ask him something straight out, and he’d ducked the question. “Oh, no! Not me.” The denial was instantaneous and reflexive. She hated the idea of being mistaken for one of those women who cared more about being married than about who they married.

  “I mean, well, sometimes I think it would be good for Eden.” God, she was making a hash of this. If she ever did manage to get Daniel to consider marrying her, he’d think it was just for Eden’s sake. A little voice that sounded like a ventriloquist’s dummy piped up from her deep, dark psyche. Well, isn’t it? She told it to shut up and changed the subject. “Speaking of our dynamic duo, what do you hear from Deanne? Is she still happy at her mama’s?”

  “Well.” The way he drew the word out then paused, Georgia knew something was up. “I’m going down for the weekend.”

  “Again?” She grimaced. That hadn’t sounded good. “I mean, that’s good. You’ll get to see Deanne.”

  “Yeah, it is good,” There was a smile in his voice as though he found her foot-in-mouth disease amusing. “It’s doing me a lot of good, too. I’m seeing things differently. Letting go of a lot of the old animosities I’ve been carrying around. I’m starting to see that, when Tracy and I were married, I expected her to be perfect.”

  From the stories Daniel had told her, Tracy had been a long way from perfect. So far, in fact, that Georgia had to admire his ability to get past it and forgive his ex. She had a momentary twinge that maybe there was more than forgiveness going on, but a quick mental review of some of those story highlights put that worry to rest.

  “Back then, I thought whatever she did reflected on me,” Daniel continued, “but she’s only human, and she’s got her own baggage that didn’t have anything to do with me. She’s worked hard to face her problems. I kind of admire her for that.”

  This sounded like good news. And she was proud of him. He was really growing.

  Should she try again? Oh, what the hell. What did she have to lose? “So does this mean you’re going to stop being so negative about getting married again?”

  Daniel laughed. “Have I been that bad?”

  “Hmm. Let’s see.” Even though he couldn’t see her, she pressed her index finger to the side of her face, tipped her head, and stared wide eyed toward the sky. “‘Not even if she looks like Catherine Zeta-Jones, has more money than Trump, and thinks I walk on water.’“ She dropped the pose. “Does that ring any bells? Now stop evading the question.”

  “And what was the question?” he asked through his laughter.

  If he’d been standing in front of her, Georgia would have beaten him with her phone. “The question is: Are you going to stop being so antimarriage?”

  “I was never antimarriage. Not for other people.”

  “Argh. You are impossible.”

  “No, I’m terrified you’ll decide to play matchmaker if I tell you I’ve softened my position.”

>   “I would never do that.” Not with another woman, anyway.

  “If I can hold you to that, then I might be willing to say that I’m opening up to the possibility.”

  Score! Okay, so it wasn’t exactly a proposal, but it was a first step. If this was the results of Daniel spending time around his ex, then Georgia was all for it. Before they hung up, she sent her greetings and Eden’s love to Deanne. The girls would adore being sisters.

  She was still reveling in her conversation with Daniel when the door opened behind her. “There you are,” Grams said. “I wanted to let you know I’m leaving as soon as Delores gets here.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want something to eat before you go?” Georgia brushed off the seat of her jeans before following her grandmother inside.

  “Not a chance,” Grams said, walking and talking as she checked the contents of her purse for the forty-seventh time. “Cecelia’s son was up from the gulf last week, and he always brings her a butt load of cracked crab that she serves on these fancy crackers. I ain’t spoiling my appetite when I can pig out on that.” She closed her purse. “Oh, there’s Delores.”

  Georgia looked out the living room window to see an older Cadillac pull in. Grams hung the handle of her purse over her arm and headed out. Georgia stood in the open screen door, ready to grab for her if she missed her footing on the steps. When Grams reached the yard without mishap, Georgia looked toward the car.

  Had Delores gotten out? She didn’t see her anywhere. A movement from inside the car caught her attention. It looked like . . . She squinted. A hand. Was someone waving at her?

  Holy hell. Delores had always been petite, but age had shrunk her to the size of a squirrel. She could barely see over the steering wheel. In fact, she probably looked through it.

  Georgia’s hands itched to grab Grams and forbid her to ride with Delores, but since she wasn’t Grams’ mama, grounding her wasn’t an option. Grams would just call her a worrywart and insist on going anyway. Hoping this wasn’t the last time she’d see her grandmother alive, Georgia waved hesitantly back as Grams got in the car.

  Her daddy’s pickup pulled in as Delores and Grams were about to pull out. The pickup stopped next to them as though her daddy planned to talk to Delores from his open window, but Delores pulled out as if she hadn’t noticed, and Georgia again questioned why she’d let Grams get in that car. Was this a preview of what she had to look forward to when Eden and her friends started driving? Hell, no, Georgia decided as her Daddy parked the pickup to come in for dinner; Eden she could ground.

  He washed up while she chicken fried a steak.

  “Where’s your mama?” he asked as they sat down to eat.

  “She was tired so she laid down about an hour ago.”

  Her daddy nodded. They ate as they listened to the kitchen radio giving the noon farm report. When the radio went to commercial, Georgia said, “The speech therapist thinks Mama will recover faster if she sees her five days a week.”

  “Well, if you think it’ll help.”

  “It’s worth a try.” And Lord, Georgia hoped it worked. Every improvement was a step closer to ensuring she made it back to Dallas in time for the start of the school year.

  They were finishing up when the phone rang. Her daddy wiped his mouth on his paper napkin and got up to answer it.

  She listened with half an ear as she gathered up the dishes and scraped the plates. Since it was only a few dishes, she filled the sink, squirting dish soap into the water. Georgia knew he was talking to Bethany even before he said, “I’ll let you talk to your sister about the details.”

  She wiped her hands on a dish towel and took the phone, knowing whatever the details entailed, they were going to add something to her schedule she’d rather not do. “Hey, Bethany. What’s up?”

  “You know Mama and Daddy’s anniversary is coming up in the middle of August.”

  Oh, Lord. With everything else going on, she’d completely spaced it. And it was their thirty-fifth. A big one. “Sure, I remember.” She glanced at the calendar. Only a couple of weeks away, but damn. It fell on a Friday. Maybe they could celebrate it on Saturday. Yeah, sure. That would work—not. Living in a rural community where every day but Sunday was interchangeable meant her mother had never been flexible about dates.

  “I was thinking about a party at the grange hall”—Exactly the sort of shindig Bethany loved putting together. Before Georgia could protest all the work that would entail, Bethany continued.—”but Mama would be too self-conscious with all those people around and her not able to visit properly, so I thought we’d have a barbecue here at our house. Invite a few of their friends. The Johanssons, maybe the Coles. What do you think?”

  “I think it’s a great idea.” And all Georgia would have to do was get her parents there and maybe whip up a few dishes. “What do you need me to bring?”

  “I thought a potato salad and maybe that pineapple pie you make. And of course, Mama, Daddy, and Grams.” Bethany laughed as though she’d made a joke.

  The salad and pie weren’t a problem. Getting her parents and Grams all heading in the same direction at the same time was the very definition of herding cats, but Georgia knew she was getting off easy, so she didn’t complain.

  After they hung up, she went back to the dishes. As she put the last one away, her daddy walked through the kitchen toward the laundry room. She heard the pfft of a spray can and stuck her head around the door to see him rubbing the back of his right hand, a WD-40 can sitting on top of the dryer.

  “Is your arthritis acting up?”

  “Yup.” He put the can on the shelf where it belonged. “Don’t tell your grams I’m doing this.”

  “Never.” Georgia crossed her heart the way she’d done as a child. She’d never have guessed he’d try Grams’ remedy after the way he always teased her about oiling her joints. “Does it work?”

  “Seems to.” He flexed his hand. “I think I’ll still stay in and rest it.” He looked up and met her gaze. “Why don’t you go out and see Eden? I’ll take care of your mama ‘til you get back.”

  His offer felt like manna from heaven. “Are you sure?” Georgia asked.

  He gave her a small, closed-lip smile. “Give my regards to Sol.”

  “Sure,” a stunned Georgia said before she remembered Sol wouldn’t be there because he was off rodeoing. She decided not to mention that.

  Give my regards to Sol. Even knowing her father’s view of Sol had softened, the statement give my regards to Sol was pretty close to the top of the list of words she’d never expected to hear from either of her parents.

  “I’ll start a load of laundry before I go,” Georgia said, knowing how limited her father’s domestic skills were.

  When she got to the ranch, she found Daisy working a new horse in the paddock, but Eden was nowhere to be seen.

  “I told her to go have some fun with the kids,” Daisy said when Georgia had finally caught her attention.

  “Do you know where they went?” Georgia asked.

  Daisy’s gaze turned inward as though trying to pull up a memory. A couple of seconds later, she shook her head. “Sorry. They probably told me, but I wasn’t paying attention.”

  Georgia waved good-bye as Daisy returned her focus to the black gelding in the arena.

  Maybe Ruth would know where Eden had gone. Georgia found Sol’s mama gathering sheets off the clothesline in the backyard. Ruth had seen Eden ride out with her younger children a couple of hours before, but she hadn’t asked where they were off to. Georgia was disappointed not to see her daughter, but if they were on horses, they were somewhere on the ranch, so she wasn’t worried. She helped Ruth with the rest of the sheets, sniffing the sunshiny, air-dried scent. They went into the house, swinging the laundry basket between them. The second they were past the mud room, the smell of hot raspberries assailed Georgia.

  “I pulled a cobbler out of the oven before I went out,” Ruth said. “It should be cool enough to eat. Sit down and have a pie
ce.”

  No one in her right mind turned down Ruth’s baking.

  “A scoop of ice cream?” Ruth asked as she put two plates of cobbler on the table.

  “Yes, please.” Georgia practically drooled, anticipating the contrast of hot and cold, sweet and tart on her tongue.

  When the ice cream topped both helpings, Ruth sat down. They took their first bites nearly in unison. Georgia closed her eyes and moaned as the flavors burst in her mouth. So good.

  “You know,” Ruth said between bites, “we never had a chance for any mother-daughter talks when you were married to Sol.”

  “No, we never did.”

  Ruth sighed as she forked up another bite. “I wish we had. I always thought . . .”

  “You thought we’d have more time.”

  Ruth smiled and nodded. “You were outta here like a scalded cat. I never did know why. It probably ain’t nothin’ but misplaced guilt on my part to think it woulda made a difference if we’d talked more, but I can’t help but feel it.”

  When she was eighteen, Georgia had secretly been glad not to have to get to know Ruth better. Not because she didn’t like her mother-in-law. On the contrary. But Sol thought highly of his mother, and Georgia had feared Ruth would decide her new daughter-in-law didn’t measure up. Leaving Sol had in some ways been a relief because it had taken the pressure off. She’d been sure Ruth’s disillusionment was a done deal. She’d been wrong about that. Ruth had always made her feel welcome.

  “You have nothing to feel guilty for,” Georgia said. “Sol and I . . . We were too young to know what we were doing. It didn’t help that we were mismatched from the start.” Another exquisite bite. Her ex-mother-in-law could reduce angels to tears with her desserts.

  “I don’t think you were a mismatch. I think y’all hit a rough patch you didn’t know how to handle.”

  Maybe, Georgia thought, but it didn’t really matter anymore, did it? She probably would regret asking, but curiosity got the best of her. “What would you have said?”