by Marin Thomas
Dixie’s humming greeted him when he stepped into the bathroom. A light-colored shower curtain enclosed the claw-foot tub and Gavin could see her silhouette through the sheer fabric.
Hoping not to startle her too badly, he slid the curtain aside at the end of the tub and stepped in. Dixie’s back faced him, offering a view of her firm little fanny and curvy hips. Arms raised above her head, she shampooed her hair.
Gavin moved closer and braced his hands against the wall on either side of her body, and then he pressed his chest to her back. Dixie gasped, the action causing her to suck in a mouthful of water. She coughed, sputtered and spun. Eyes wide she opened her mouth to speak but Gavin caressed her breasts and instead she moaned. He didn’t wait for permission. He nibbled a path across her shoulder, up her neck and ended with a kiss beneath her ear.
“We were supposed to christen the gift shop not the shower.” She leaned heavily against him.
“I’ve been thinking about making love to you all week and when I heard the shower go on...”
Dixie clasped his face between her hands and stood on tiptoe. “Don’t stop.” She pressed her mouth to Gavin’s and ignored the voice in her head insisting she proceed with caution. She wanted no reminders of what happened when she’d allowed her emotions and desires to take the lead. Dixie was tired of pretending she didn’t need Gavin.
Right now. Right here. She needed him more than anything. She understood the risks involved in making love, but Gavin had squeaked through her defenses when he’d surprised her with the gift shop. The reasons they shouldn’t be a couple no longer mattered. Dixie was willing to risk her heart because she had the baby in her corner. Gavin cared about the baby and the baby was inside her. They were a package deal.
She wiggled closer, loving the feel of his powerful body. She tried to express what he meant to her through kisses and caresses...safer than saying the words out loud. With each touch she intended to show him that she was committed to their relationship. “Please, Gavin.”
“I couldn’t stop if I wanted to, honey.”
* * *
“HEY, DIXIE! WHERE’S GAVIN?” Johnny’s voice echoed through the upstairs hallway.
Dixie gasped and Gavin clamped a hand over her mouth. She giggled at the stern look he gave her. They’d played in the shower until the cold water had forced them out. Good grief they were both adults having a baby together. So what if her brother caught them naked?
“Dixie?” Johnny pounded on the bathroom door.
Gavin wrapped Dixie in a towel, then tied one around his waist before opening the door. She peeked over Gavin’s shoulder. Johnny stood in the hallway holding Gavin’s clothes. Before anyone had a chance to speak the rest of her brothers skidded to a stop in the doorway.
“Well, now. That’s a cozy sight.” Willie expelled a grunt after Buck jabbed an elbow into his stomach.
Poor Buck. Finding his baby sister almost naked with a man was more than his prudish brain could process. “I didn’t expect you until later tonight,” she said.
“Obviously.” Porter snickered.
Gavin raised his hand. “Before you interrogate your sister, give us some privacy to—”
“The last thing you two need is more privacy.” Johnny shoved Gavin’s clothes at him. “You’re supposed to save that stuff for the honeymoon.”
Conway came to Dixie’s defense. “She’s twenty-three, Johnny. Old enough to have sex. Hell, you were poking Ilene back in ninth grade. She was only—”
“Shut up, Conway.”
“No you shut up, Johnny. Just because you’re the oldest doesn’t mean you can—”
“Hey,” Willie interrupted. “Is that why Ilene wouldn’t go to the school dance with me when I asked her? Because you were banging her in Grandpa’s truck?”
Buck interrupted before Johnny had a chance to defend himself. “Didn’t Grandpa find a condom on the floor of the backseat of his truck?”
“Shoot. Grandpa accused me of having sex with a girl. All along it was you.” Willie shoved his finger in Johnny’s chest.
“That was years ago. Besides, you never liked Ilene because she had small...you know.” Johnny’s face turned red.
“I wouldn’t have cared if her boobs were no bigger than pecan nuts if she’d have let me under her skirt,” Willie said.
“I thought you were in love with Marsha, Will?” Merle joined the conversation. “You said Marsha was your first love?”
“When did I say that?” Willie argued.
“When you got drunk two years ago and Merle had to haul your ass out of the bar,” Johnny said. “You were foaming at the mouth about some girl named Marsha in your high-school class.”
Dixie chanced a peek at Gavin and found him staring at her brothers in fascination. She supposed he’d never seen anything the likes of a Cash brothers’ argument. Growing up an only child Gavin had missed out on all the action Dixie had seen in her younger years.
“Are we talking about Marsha Bugler?” Buck asked.
It amazed Dixie that no matter how loud or raucous her brothers became Buck’s quiet voice always caught their attention.
“Yeah, that’s the Marsha we’re talking about. Why?” Johnny asked.
“Marsha and I were friends,” Buck said.
“Friends?” Willie scoffed. “She never mentioned you when we were together.” Willie’s eyes narrowed. “Just how good of friends were you?”
“Good enough that she told me you’d gotten her pregnant.”
Dixie gasped and her brothers’ jaws dropped. “Is that true?” Johnny asked Willie.
No one spoke a word. Moved a muscle. Or breathed as they waited for Willie’s answer.
“It’s true.”
“How come you didn’t tell Grandpa or Grandma?” Dixie asked.
“Marsha told me not to tell anyone because she wasn’t going to keep the baby,” Willie said.
Dixie rested her hand over her tummy as if to protect her unborn child from her brother’s confession.
Like a dark cloud hovering overhead, silence filled the hallway as everyone digested Willie’s confession. Then Buck asked, “Do you ever hear from Marsha?”
“No. Why would I? She moved to California.”
Without another word, Buck retreated to his room, the sound of his clunking boot heels echoing in the air.
“What’s up with Buck?” Willie asked Johnny.
“How should I know?” Johnny pointed at Gavin. “Get dressed and meet me outside.” The Cash brothers dispersed...Porter and Merle heading to their rooms, the rest following Johnny downstairs.
Dixie shut the bathroom door and leaned against it. “Sorry about the interruption.”
Gavin wasn’t. Standing naked, save for a skimpy towel and her long hair dripping wet, Dixie had never looked more appealing. If she didn’t leave the bathroom soon, he wouldn’t let her. He picked up her clothes from the floor and held them out.
As if sensing Gavin’s arousal, Dixie mumbled, “I’ll get dressed in my room.”
Gavin pulled on his jeans. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror above the sink and stared long and hard, seeking answers about his and Dixie’s future.
He’d spent a lot of time with Dixie lately and had learned a few things about himself in the process. One—her smile produced tiny twinges in his chest. Two—he knew what she was thinking before she spoke out loud. Three—not an hour in the day went by when he didn’t want to kiss her. Four—he hadn’t missed riding the circuit as he’d anticipated. Five—he’d learned that if he focused his thoughts on Dixie before he fell asleep, the chances of dreaming of Nate’s death greatly decreased.
Tonight with Dixie clinging to him in the shower he admitted that he yearned for her to need him not because he provided her and the baby a sense of security,
but because she desired him the way a woman desires a man she loves.
Until now, Gavin hadn’t admitted to himself that he’d purchased the shop in Yuma because he’d wanted to be tied to Dixie by more than the baby. He turned away from the mirror and slipped into his shirt. He couldn’t regret getting Dixie pregnant, because she and his unborn child had become his anchor. Dixie and the baby made sense when nothing else did.
He shoved his feet into his boots and went outside where he found Johnny waiting on the porch swing with a shotgun resting across his lap.
“Are you going hunting?” Gavin asked.
“As soon as Dixie gets out here we’re all taking a drive to visit Reverend Thomas.”
Johnny would get no argument from Gavin.
Dixie’s brother narrowed his eyes. “You’re not leaving Stagecoach until you marry my sister.”
“Says who?” Dixie stepped onto the porch and planted her fists on her hips.
“Says me.” Johnny stood.
“Over my dead body.”
Johnny cocked the rifle. “Fine by me.”
“Settle down, you two,” Gavin said. Johnny was all bluster but Gavin didn’t appreciate Dixie’s adamant refusal to marry him. Hadn’t their lovemaking in the shower meant anything to her?
“I won’t be rushed,” Dixie insisted.
Gavin came to her rescue. “I believe your sister would like a real wedding...the kind with a guest list and a reception afterward.”
“That takes time to plan,” Dixie added.
“You two had better get planning then because there will be no more hanky-panky in this house until you’re married.”
“Don’t talk stupid, Johnny.” Dixie looked at Gavin. “I’m starving.” She waltzed off the porch and hopped into Gavin’s truck.
“If you string my sister along, Tucker, you’ll answer to me and my brothers.”
If anyone was doing the stringing, it was Dixie, not Gavin.
Chapter Eleven
“You’re awfully quiet,” Dixie said.
Gavin bit into his Chicago-style hotdog and shrugged. He’d been lost in thought since they’d pulled into Vern’s Drive-In fifteen minutes ago.
“You shouldn’t let my brothers get to you.”
Easier said than done. After Johnny had accused him of leading Dixie on, Gavin had questioned his intentions toward their sister. On the surface he’d convinced himself marrying Dixie was the right thing to do—the one sure way to step up and accept responsibility for his actions. And he admitted that Dixie had a calming effect on him and made him feel more in control of his emotions and his ability to close himself off from the demons that haunted him at night. But after they’d made love in the shower...he’d felt a strong urge to be a good father and provide his child with a stable, normal upbringing—the opposite of what he and Dixie had experienced. This urge was gaining steam inside Gavin and scaring him.
What if he didn’t turn out to be a good father? “My dad was never in the picture when I was a kid.” Hell, Gavin didn’t know the first thing about a father’s role in the family.
“Did you have any contact with him?” she asked.
“Once. I was fourteen and he scared the crap out of me.”
“What happened?”
“I was waiting at a bus stop after dark and he approached me.” Gavin remembered that Friday night as if it had happened yesterday. His father had been filthy, his clothes torn, his hair hanging in greasy strands over his shoulders. His breath had smelled putrid—like rotting teeth and beer. His father had said, “What’s the matter, son? Don’t you recognize me?”
“What did your dad want?”
“Money. He was living on the street.” Gavin had given him what was in his pocket—four dollars.
“What did your mother say when you got home and told her?”
Gavin hadn’t told his mother right away. He’d slipped into his room and sat on the bed, shaking with disgust and fear. When he’d finally confessed to seeing his father, his mom had been furious and concerned for Gavin’s safety. “She was upset and she felt bad that I had to see how destitute my father had become.”
“How did he get so bad off?”
“He was a drug addict.” Gavin got the creeps when he thought about all the times he’d ridden the city buses alone through the years and how his father could have approached him at any time.
“I’m sorry.” Dixie gripped his thigh and his muscle warmed. “I know the feeling of not having a father give a damn about you.”
Gavin wanted to show his child he cared by being there in person. But a real marriage to Dixie meant he had to stop running for good...forever. No matter what his fears were, Gavin felt compelled to try—for his child’s sake.
“Dixie, you do know that when I asked you to marry me it was with the assumption that we were going to live together.”
She removed her hand from his leg, leaving behind a chill where her fingers had touched him.
“I don’t want to see my kid every other weekend or just when I’m passing through town on my way to a rodeo. I want to be there every day.” In order to do that Gavin would have to land a civilian job and put down roots—the very things he swore he’d steer clear of when he’d left the army.
He credited Dixie with the reprieve he’d experienced from the nightmares that had plagued him after returning from Afghanistan, but could he trust the horrible memories to remain at bay forever? He pictured himself lying next to Dixie in bed, holding her close then awakening to her screams because he dreamt she was the enemy and he’d pinned her to the mattress.
“Will you be truthful with me if I ask you a question?” she said.
Gavin nodded.
“Is the real reason you’re pushing marriage because of the shop in Yuma?”
“What do you mean?”
Dixie squirmed, her eyes shifting between Gavin and the neon sign above the drive-in. “Are you worried I won’t be a good manager and the shop will go bankrupt?”
The thought hadn’t entered his mind. “No. If things don’t work out between us and we split, the shop remains yours.” Gavin believed as long as Dixie had a means of supporting herself and he refrained from interfering she wouldn’t worry about him threatening her independence. “I’m not marrying you to take care of you,” he said. “I’m marrying you so that our child has a shot at a normal life.” If there was such a thing these days.
Dixie’s silence worried Gavin. If he pushed her into marriage before she was ready, would she panic and run as soon as they said “I do”? Evil laughter echoed through his head. If anyone ran it would be him not Dixie.
“Okay.” The quietly spoken word sounded like a firecracker exploding inside the truck.
His blood pumped hard through his veins. “Okay what?”
“Okay, I’ll set a wedding date. But nothing fancy. I can’t afford a big shindig and you’ve already spent too much money on the gift shop.”
“Small suits me fine, but I’d like there to be enough time for my mother to make arrangements to come.”
“I forgot about your mother.”
“She’s eager to meet you.”
Dixie worried her lower lip. “I’ve been without my mother and grandparents for so long I forgot my pregnancy doesn’t just affect us.”
“My mother won’t interfere in our decisions about the baby if that concerns you.”
“Not at all. My grandmother meant the world to me and I want our baby to have a close relationship with your mother.”
“How soon can you put a wedding together?”
“What’s your rodeo schedule like the next couple of weeks?”
“I can pick and choose.” Gavin wasn’t rodeoing for the money, that was for sure.
“Today’s date is...�
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“October 16.”
“Would the first Saturday in November work for you and your mother? I’ll check with the church to see if it’s available.”
“I’ll phone my mom on the way back to the store tonight.”
Dixie smiled. “Why drive back to Yuma just to sleep?”
“I’ve been doing it all week.”
“My brothers caught us taking a shower together. If we tell them we’ve picked a wedding date they won’t care if you share my bed.”
The temperature inside the truck shot up ten degrees as Gavin imagined cuddling Dixie in bed. Now that they were committed to going through with a marriage ceremony, there was no reason they couldn’t make love whenever and wherever the mood struck. And after their tryst in the bathroom today, Gavin knew without a doubt that Dixie enjoyed making love with him.
“All right. I’ll spend the night at the farm.” Her brothers would just have to get used to their sister and Gavin sneaking off to be alone—at least until they decided where they’d live after the wedding. Don’t forget about finding a job.
Gavin would begin looking for civilian work once he and Dixie were legally married. They’d need time to become used to marriage and living together. He wouldn’t push her to find an apartment in Yuma until the baby came and he quit rodeo. He ate the last bite of hotdog, then started the engine and backed out of the parking spot. “I think we should tell your family together,” he said.
“That’s fine. You can do all the talking.”
This was one time Gavin looked forward to confronting the Cash brothers.
* * *
“I MADE A TO-DO LIST for the wedding.” Conway’s abrupt statement as he waltzed into the kitchen Monday morning startled a drowsy Dixie as she ate her oatmeal.
The instant Gavin had announced that they’d selected Saturday, November 4 for their wedding her slick-talking, bucking-bronc rodeo-junky brothers had morphed into wedding planners.
