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

by Quint, Suzie

  Sol’s eyebrows hiked in surprise.

  “Come on, honey,” Grams said to Eden. “Let’s go see what they got cooking.”

  “Eden, remember what we talked about?” Sol said before his daughter could get away.

  Eden looked up into his eyes and nodded her head. She took a deep breath before she turned to smile at her grandmother, not a trace of sadness in her expression.

  Sol elbowed Georgia as Grams and Eden walked away. “Hear that? I got good genes.”

  “I knew that,” Georgia said. In spite of the playful comment, Sol’s delivery was off. In his normal frame of mind, he’d have made some comment about sharing those genes with her again or maybe that he’d be happy to let her strip him of his jeans. She waited a few beats, but he didn’t follow up. The missing response made Georgia feel off kilter. She tried to get her stability back by asking, “What was all that about, what you told Eden?”

  “Just a reminder that this is a celebration and it isn’t fair for her to mope and bring everyone down.”

  “Ah. Fake it ‘til you make it.”

  “Yeah. Something like that,” Sol said.

  Again, his tone was off, and Georgia wondered if Eden wasn’t the only one faking it.

  His gaze wandered over the food on the table. He glanced around, as though checking for spies, before stealing one of Grams’ deviled eggs. The egg disappeared into his mouth whole.

  “I thought you weren’t coming to the picnic.”

  “I’m not,” he said around a mouthful of egg. He swallowed then continued, “But I didn’t want to leave Eden until you got here. So now you’re here. I guess I’ll—”

  Georgia laid her hand on his arm. “Sit down with me for a minute.”

  His nostrils flared as he drew a breath. “Okay.”

  As Georgia marshaled her opening, Sol’s eyes landed on the pie she’d brought.

  “That’s your pineapple pie.” He grinned lasciviously. “Can you save me a piece?”

  This felt like the first completely honest emotion he’d given her since she’d sat down, and she let herself relax into it. “You know there won’t be any left.”

  He met her eyes for the first time since she arrived. “That’s where the saving part comes in.”

  Georgia couldn’t help smiling. A month into their marriage, she’d made that pie for Sol; she’d gotten exactly one piece. “How about if I make you another one?”

  “Just for me? Not for Mama and the others?”

  Georgia laughed. “Just for you.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yes, Sol. I promise.” Their initial awkwardness had faded a little, giving Georgia the courage to say, “You haven’t returned any of my calls.”

  And that fast, the awkwardness came crashing back as Sol dropped his gaze to the top of the picnic table and went too still. “Daisy kept you posted, didn’t she?”

  “Yes, but I wanted to talk to you.”

  Sol’s shoulders rose and dropped in an abbreviated shrug. “I got busy.”

  “So busy you couldn’t spare time for a phone call?”

  His shoulders twitched again, and he started tracing a gouge in the table with his finger. “Zach wants to buy a couple of bulls. We’ve been looking at what’s for sale that bucks good.”

  “That’s kept you too busy to talk to me?”

  Another shrug. He kept his eyes glued to the table.

  Georgia sighed. No matter what the provocation, it wasn’t like Sol to withdraw. If this was about the ring, his response was all wrong. The Sol she knew would have only fought harder for her. “So how is Eden really?”

  Sol’s lips thinned. His fingers stilled and his gaze rose to watch his daughter. “She tries to pretend she’s okay, but she won’t go near Spitfire or even the horse barn.”

  “But isn’t the mare getting better?”

  “Yeah. That’s what I can’t figure. Spitfire probably won’t ever compete, but it’s not like we’ll have to put her down, but Eden . . . It don’t seem to matter to her. She feels responsible.” Sol shook his head. “I can’t fault her too much. I want her to learn from her mistakes, and she has to own them before she can do that, but shit. Sometimes stuff just happens.”

  Georgia understood what he meant. She’d had that exact conversation with Eden herself, but it hadn’t taken. “If Spitfire can’t race, will Daisy keep her?”

  “No. But if Eden wants her, I’m willing to buy her off Daisy. Right now, though, I can’t decide if keeping her is the right thing to do. Eden acts like she’s grieving.” He was silent for a moment, his mouth drawn in a tight line. “You were right. I never should have told her she could race. If I hadn’t, she wouldn’t’ve spent so much time with that mare, and she wouldn’t mind so much that Spitfire’s hurt.”

  Maybe it wasn’t Daniel and the ring that was bothering Sol. Maybe he was just having an attack of guilt over Eden. “Now what was it you said? Stuff happens sometimes? This is no more your fault than it is hers. I can’t say I’ll be sorry if she’s lost interest in racing, but no one could have predicted this. And as much as I hate to admit it, racing could have been a good experience for her.”

  “A good experience,” Sol scoffed. “Her heart’s broke. It nearly kills me, watching her.” His hands clenched so hard, they almost vibrated. “I want to fix it so bad, but there’s nothin’ I can do.”

  How well Georgia knew that feeling, but for all Sol tried to fix everything for everyone, seeing his own child in pain was new to him. She wanted to pull him into her arms and offer him comfort. If they’d been alone, she might have, but her family would probably freak out if she did. Instead, she stroked the back of his hand until he unclenched his fist. She laced her fingers with his and gave his calloused hand a squeeze.

  “Welcome to being a real parent,” she said.

  “It sucks.” Sol clasped her hand back.

  “Sometimes it really does.”

  His gaze dropped to their hands. For a moment, his grip tightened, but then he drew his hand away. With it went all sense of connection.

  “I better git. I got places to be. Daisy can pick Eden up if you need her to. Just give her a call when you’re ready.”

  “I’ll bring her out to the ranch. But”—she shrugged, trying to act as if it didn’t matter to her—”you could stay if you want to.”

  Sol’s gaze flitted from Georgia’s mama to her daddy then to Bethany. “Nah. I gotta go.”

  She didn’t blame him. Her family had never made him feel welcome, but somehow that didn’t feel like the reason he wanted to leave. Or if it was, it wasn’t the number one reason.

  Sol stood and swung one leg over the plank seat.

  “Wait.”

  Halfway disentangled from the picnic table, Sol stopped.

  “Sit down for a second. I need to tell you something.”

  He went so still, she wasn’t sure he’d comply, but after a couple of moments, he sank down, straddling the seat. He looked like he wanted to bolt rather than hear what she had to say.

  Georgia took a deep breath. “You don’t have to worry about Daniel.”

  “Why would I worry about Daniel?”

  His response came so quick and was so not what she’d expected that Georgia stammered. “Well, because . . . because . . . because he’s not interested in me as more than a friend.”

  Sol eyes held . . . nothing. No joy, no hope, no emotion at all. Silence fell between them as Georgia waited. Finally, he said, “I think you’re underestimating the situation.” His eyes dropped away from hers. “He seems . . . like a good guy. You could do a lot worse for yourself and Eden.”

  She ducked her head, trying to catch his eyes, but they slithered away to gaze out across Bethany’s backyard to where Eden was talking to one of her cousins.

  “Sol, Daniel wants me for a friend. Nothing more.” Why was she repeating herself? It wasn’t like he hadn’t heard her the first time. But of course, the problem wasn’t his; it was hers. Having to admit that Daniel
wasn’t interested in her after she’d implied she was going to marry him made her feel as manipulative as her mother. It had been a childish thing to do, and she hated that Sol would see that in her.

  “You’re wrong. He—”

  A couple of her parents’ friends picked that moment to sample Grams’ deviled eggs. And of course, they had to tell Georgia how wonderful it was that she had come home to help her parents while her mother recovered from the stroke. That, in turn, led to what looked like it might turn into a discussion of the strokes others in their circle had had.

  Short of rudeness, she was trapped. She watched helplessly when Sol left the table to say good-bye to Eden and disappeared around the corner of Bethany’s house, heading for his truck.

  Damn. When something got stuck in his head, he became the most pigheaded man she’d ever known. She should have tried harder. She should have been more direct about the ring was for Tracy and not her, even if made her look bad in Sol’s eyes.

  Eventually, she escaped the conversation that had pinned her down and joined Eden, who had found her way to her granddaddy. She stood with her back to his front, as he oversaw his son-in-law’s steak-grilling skills. “Sol’s not staying?” he asked when Georgia joined them.

  She shook her head. “I asked him but he’s got things to do.”

  He put his hand on her shoulder. “Maybe next time, Jòrge.”

  She couldn’t help smiling at her childhood nickname. If only something so simple could cheer Eden or get Sol back to the way he was before.

  Soon, the steaks started coming off the grill, along with hamburgers for the kids.

  The kids ate at a card table on the patio while the adults squeezed in around the third picnic tables Bethany had borrowed from a neighbor.

  Mama’s language skills had improved dramatically with the daily therapy sessions. She wasn’t quite speaking in complete sentences, but everyone waited patiently, and the phrases she uttered became coherent thoughts when strung together.

  Best of all, it looked as if they were going to escape any drama. The main course was done. A couple of people had desserts, but most were waiting for a hole to open up in their stomachs. Eden was squeezed in between her grandfather and Bethany; she’d always liked listening to the adults talk.

  A few minutes later, Patsy Johansson said, “Eden, I heard you had your barrel racing debut last weekend. Did you take first place?” The question was playfully asked, an adult trying to be encouraging.

  And a long-lost memory surfaced. Patsy had been a top barrel racer in her day. But that wouldn’t have meant anything to Eden, even if she’d known. Her daughter looked at Georgia, her eyes panic struck. Her granddaddy pulled her in close.

  “It didn’t go very well,” Georgia said. She pulled her gaze from her daughter and met Patsy’s eyes. “Eden’s horse bowed a tendon, so she didn’t get to ride.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Patsy said. “That’s a tough break.”

  “Don’t know why . . . you agreed.” Her mother’s words came out slowly but clearly. “Rodeo. Bad business. Taught you that.”

  Georgia bit back a put-upon sigh. “Eden wanted to try it.”

  Her mother made a noise. Over the summer, Georgia had become an expert at interpreting her mother’s noises. They were as clear as words. This noise meant she thought Georgia was a fool and, given the topic of conversation, probably a bad mother to boot.

  “What?” Georgia said sharply, all but daring her mother to say it out loud.

  “Don’t let Eden . . . play in the street . . . do you?”

  “This isn’t a busy street we’re talking about, Mama. Barrel racing isn’t that dangerous, but it takes a lot of commitment. I decided it would be a good experience for Eden.” The kicking and screaming she’d done on the way to that decision wasn’t something her mother needed to know about.

  “Rodeo,” her mother harrumphed. “Asso—Asso—” She set her jaw then tried again. “Surrounded by . . . riff-raff.”

  For a moment, Georgia was speechless. Riff-raff?

  “Your daddy wasn’t riff-raff,” Grams’ voice was laced with cold steel, a tone Georgia rarely heard from her.

  “Daddy left,” Georgia’s mother words were hot and hard, a counterpoint to Grams’ steely tone. Her finger pointed accusingly at Grams before swinging to Georgia. “Sol left.” She gave a disparaging snort. “Cowboys.” She scowled and shook her head. “No good.”

  Her mother’s views weren’t news to Georgia, but on the rare occasion when the topic came up, she wasn’t usually so blatant in her disregard. The therapist had warned her that a patient’s tact was sometimes a casualty of a stroke. That made this a discussion she couldn’t win, so Georgia choked down her resentment and bit her tongue.

  Across the table, Eden looked hurt and confused. Her grandmother, who she didn’t always like but who she trusted to love her and protect her, was saying her father wasn’t any good. That betrayed look on her daughter’s face sliced into Georgia’s heart.

  “Sol didn’t leave me, Mama. I beat him to it. Remember?”

  “Pre—Pre—Preemptive,” her mother choked out. “Cared more about . . . rodeo than . . . than his family.”

  Eden’s lower lip quivered. Georgia felt the mama bear in her rear up.

  “That’s not true,” she said to Eden then repeated to her mother. “It’s not true. He loves to rodeo, but he loves Eden more than anything on earth. And he—he loves—loved me, too. He’d do anything for Eden. And he’d do anything for me as well.” Her words bubbled up from some place inside where she’d hidden them away, refusing to look at them because . . . because if they were true, then twelve years ago, she’d made the biggest mistake of her life.

  Her mother made a loud, disparaging noise that pushed Georgia right over the edge.

  “That’s enough.” She was surprised to find herself standing. “You’ve done nothing but bad-mouth Sol since the day I married him. He doesn’t deserve to get roasted because you felt abandoned when Granddaddy died.”

  She clenched her hands, trying to stop them from shaking. “Sol’s not Daddy either, who in case you didn’t notice, Mama, came back from playing music on the road almost two decades ago. I think it’s time you stopped punishing him for leaving.

  “But either way, you are done blaming Sol in front of Eden or me for how things turned out.” She leveled her hardest glare at her mama. “Don’t make me choose between you and Sol because, Mama . . .” She paused, weighing for one brief moment whether she was ready to draw this line. “You won’t like the results.”

  There wasn’t much room to maneuver, but she managed to step over the plank seat without tripping on it, so she counted that a dignified exit and stalked out of the backyard. Getting into her car and leaving sounded so appealing, but she couldn’t, not without Eden, so she sat on the concrete steps in front of Bethany’s house.

  She discovered her napkin balled up in her fist. With hands still shaking from the adrenaline rush, she smoothed it on her knee as tears welled in her eyes. Damn. She didn’t want to cry, but the release of all the summer’s pent-up emotions had to have an outlet, as if yelling at her mother wasn’t enough.

  “It’s about time.” Bethany approached from the corner of the house.

  Georgia sniffed and wiped her eyes with the napkin. “What’s ‘about time’?”

  “About time you grew a backbone and stopped letting Mama play you.” Bethany sat down beside her, bumping at Georgia to make room.

  She took another swipe at her eyes as she scooted over. “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re not really that blind, are you? She plays you like a flute. She has since we were little. Ever since Daddy left to go play his music on the road. Mama was miserable but you took it on yourself to make her happy. As if you could fix it for her. I mean, good God, you were what? Twelve? You started getting straight A’s in school. You cooked when she didn’t feel like it. You kept the house tidy. You even helped me with my homework. Y
ou let her wallow in it.”

  Bethany looked at her then dug into her pocket, produced another napkin, and handed it to Georgia.

  “Thanks.” She didn’t know why her eyes kept leaking tears. Maybe it was because no matter what she did, someone always found fault.

  “It wasn’t your job to make her happy. And when Daddy came home, you kept doing it. You acted like everything hinged on you being so flipping good. And then . . .” Bethany took a deep breath and shook her head, her lips tightening. “Then you married Sol.”

  “Yes, I know.” She didn’t think she could stand to hear her sister say it, so Georgia beat her to it. “That was a mistake.”

  Bethany did the eye-roll she’d perfected at eight. The year, Georgia realized, their daddy had been gone. “The only mistake you made with Sol was leaving him.”

  Georgia’s mouth gaped. Bethany thought . . . ? It was such a turn-everything-on-its-head revelation, Georgia wasn’t sure she’d heard her sister right.

  “What?”

  “You escaped.”

  Georgia was stunned by her sister’s words. “Esca—?”

  “But then you went and left him. Mama really went to work on you then.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Bethany gave her an incredulous look. “Are you really telling me you don’t remember?”

  “I had a lot going on at the time.”

  “Okay. I’ll give you that. But I can’t believe you don’t remember her following you around the house, pounding you with what a mistake you made, and how glad she was you’d come to your senses before it was too late.”

  Georgia hadn’t thought about that time in her life for years, but now, with her sister’s forceful reminder, she remembered going to bed early a lot to get away from her mother’s constant harping.

  “She beat you up so bad, it’s amazing you weren’t covered in bruises,” Bethany said. “When you found out you were pregnant, I was so glad. I thought sure you’d go back to him. Why didn’t you? I was only fourteen, and even I could see you wanted to. And poor Sol. You confused that man so bad.”

  “Really?” Georgia asked in a tiny voice. “That’s how you remember it?”