Rodeo Family

by Shannon Taylor Vannatter

  Unless something had changed, her dad was burning in torment in hell right now. Where he belonged. Had she really just thought that? Should she be glad someone was in hell? All she felt was bitterness as her stomach continued to roil. She pushed away from Brant.

  “I think I’m gonna be sick.” She fell to her knees.

  Right there in Natalie’s front yard, she puked her guts out while Brant held her hair. Again.

  * * *

  A shade of gray. Tori had been a shade of gray since she’d gotten the news.

  Brant sat across from her at her aunt’s kitchen table. Her hands cupped around her coffee mug, while Aunt Loretta bustled around putting away food neighbors had brought. The house was on the small side and earlier it had been almost standing room only with casserole-bearing church folks.

  News traveled fast. Especially when it made the national news. What would it feel like to have your parent’s drug overdose all over the news?

  He touched her hand. Cold despite the heat of the mug. “You okay?”

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head.

  “You should probably eat something. Want me to make a McDonald’s run?”

  At least that got a slight grin out of her. “No. I’m fine.”

  “Are you supposed to drink coffee? It seems like when Raquel was pregnant, her doctor cautioned her about coffee.”

  “I can have one or two cups a day. This is my first.”

  “How about some meatloaf, butter beans and shoepeg corn casserole,” Aunt Loretta suggested.

  “Yum.” Tori perked up. “Why don’t you make my mouth water?”

  “I’ll have it ready in a jiff. I already got your room ready and I’ll get the guest room ready for Brant in a bit.”

  “Oh, I’m not staying. I’ll drive home a little later.”

  “Nonsense.” Aunt Loretta waved her hand through the air as if waving away any protests he might make. “I love company and we’ve got room. What kind of aunt would I be if I sent Tori’s fella home when she’s hurting?”

  “Aunt Loretta! Brant is not my fella.”

  “Okay, friend.” Aunt Loretta rolled her eyes. “If that’s how you wanna play it. Anyway, just stay here. Tori’s dam is gonna bust eventually.” She clattered pans together as she dug through a cabinet. “Slim may have been a worthless, drunken wife-beater, but he was still Tori’s daddy. She’ll need a friend close.”

  “It’s up to Tori.”

  “I would like you to stay. Unless you have something else you need to do.”

  “No rodeo until tomorrow night. I guess I’m all yours.”

  “But—” Aunt Loretta propped her hands on her hips “—no shenanigans. Not in my house.”

  Brant’s face heated.

  Tori’s jaw dropped. “We don’t...shenanigan. Brant’s a Christian. And so am I.”

  “I know. But in this day and age young folks shack up while they claim the name of Jesus.” Aunt Loretta shook her head. “It ain’t right. But I’m glad to know y’all know that.”

  “Besides, what man in his right mind would want to shenanigan with a woman almost six months pregnant with another man’s child?” Tori laughed.

  Oh, he’d gladly shenanigan with her. Mind out of the gutter, McConnell.

  Tori’s laughter turned high-pitched and then the tears came.

  Brant knelt beside her and she soaked his shoulder once more.

  Aunt Loretta patted her back. “Yep, the dam broke. Once she gets calmed down, we’ll get some food down her and then you take her for a walk, will ya, Brant? Her color’s all off and fresh evening air works wonders.”

  “I don’t know that she’s up for a walk.” Brant felt every sob in his soul.

  “I’m fine.” Tori pushed away from him and mopped her face with her paper napkin. “A walk sounds great. Just let me eat and then we’ll go.”

  The scents of onion, tomato and beef filled the small kitchen.

  “The glories of the microwave.” Aunt Loretta set a plate in front of each of them. “I don’t know how we women ever did without it. Bless the food, will ya, Brant?”

  “Sure.” He bowed his head and heard Tori set her fork down. “Dear Lord, thank you for this food and for bringing my new friends Tori and Aunt Loretta into my life. Give Tori strength to get through the coming days and give her peace about her dad. In Jesus name, Amen.”

  Probably shouldn’t have lied in his prayer. A prayer was supposed to be from the heart. And there was nothing friendly in his heart toward Tori.

  * * *

  Why did Brant make her feel so safe? So comfortable? She leaned into his side, completely content as they trekked the gravel road. “I couldn’t have gotten through today without you.”

  “I didn’t do anything. A little driving, a little holding together—that’s all.”

  The late July sun blasted down on them as it began to set. But here with Brant, despite the heat, she wished the evening could last forever.

  “I’m not even sure how I feel about my dad’s death. What does that say about me?”

  “I think it says a lot about him. You don’t automatically get love and people to grieve over you. You have to earn it. And from what I hear, he didn’t.”

  “I hated him when I was a kid. Especially when he hit my mom. But he was my father. And deep down somewhere inside, I did love him.” Her voice cracked. “I longed for a close, normal relationship with him. And now I’ll never have it. I think that’s what I’m sad about, that since he’s gone, I’ll never have the relationship I wanted with him.”

  Brant pulled her closer against his side. “You’re allowed to feel however you feel. You can be sad or mad or glad.”

  “Are you a mind-reader?”

  “Not that I know of. Why?”

  “When Aunt Loretta called and told me, one of my first thoughts was that he was probably in hell and he deserved to be there.”

  “We all deserve to be there. Some more than others.”

  “You don’t deserve to be there.”

  “I’m no saint. I’ve got my faults.”

  “Like...”

  “I’m stubborn, determined to get my own way, and I’ve got a bit of a temper.”

  “You?”

  “Like I said, we all deserve to be in hell. But by choosing Christ, we get a get out of hell free card.”

  A comfortable silence settled over them. An owl hooted and dogs barked in the distance. She’d never been comfortable with a man without talking or being intimate.

  “When’s the last time you talked to your dad?” His breath stirred the hair at her temple.

  “When I was sixteen.” Memories of the scene with Kenny the drummer surfaced. Her dad catching them in Kenny’s bed—the things he’d called her. “After I went on the road with him, we had a disagreement and he sent me to live with Aunt Loretta. I hadn’t heard from him or seen him since.”

  “That’s twelve years ago. He never called to check on you. Not once?”

  “Nope.” She shook her head. “Aunt Loretta took him to court and made him pay child support—because she thought I deserved some of his money. He didn’t show up, but he agreed to pay. That’s how I was able to go to design school.”

  “I’m sorry, Tori. You deserved better.”

  Something skittered into the brush along the roadside and she jumped.

  “Probably a rabbit.” His arm tightened around her. “I mean it. Your father missed out by not spending time with you.”

  “You really think so?”

  “I know so. You’re an awesome person, Tori. Anyone would be privileged to know you, to spend time with you.”

  “Thanks.” Her voice cracked. Please not the water works again. But despite her determination to overcome her emotio
ns, her eyes swam.

  He patted his shoulder and she sank into him. “I’ve never cried this much in my life. Jenna says it’s pregnancy emotions. Poor Caitlyn’s in the same shape.”

  “I don’t mind having a beautiful redhead in my arms. You can cry on me any time.”

  And she could get used to being in his arms. Who was she kidding? She already was used to it.

  * * *

  The funeral turned out to be a who’s who of Country music stars. Brant scanned the faces at the security-detailed cemetery. Even Garrett had flown in on the red-eye to be here for Tori and would fly out immediately after the service to continue his tour. Nashville definitely supported their own. A fan would have a heyday. And a few had tried to sneak in to the private service.

  Tori looked like you could knock her over with dandelion fluff and he offered his arm. She clung to him, accepting hug after hug with a tired smile. It was surreal seeing faces he’d only seen on album covers here at the cemetery, offering Tori their condolences, with the hot afternoon rays beating down on them.

  “We should get you home,” he whispered. “I can tell by looking at you, you’re exhausted.”

  “Gee thanks.”

  “You’re still beautiful. Even when you’re exhausted. But I think you and the baby could use some rest.”

  “You’re right.” A man’s voice.

  Brant looked up. A man with sandy-colored hair and brown eyes stared at Tori.

  All color had drained from her face. “Kenny.”

  “It’s good to see you. All settled down and pregnant. Marriage suits you. You look great.”

  “Thanks. But—”

  “Brant McConnell.” Brant offered his hand.

  “Nice to meet you.” Kenny clasped his hand. “Kenny James. Well, you should listen to your husband. Go home, get some rest. It was good seeing you. Despite the circumstances.”

  “You, too.”

  Kenny gave her an awkward hug and turned away.

  “He was my dad’s drummer,” she whispered. “And my first...boyfriend.”

  First guy she’d ever slept with. Brant knew it—all the way down to the tips of his cowboy boots. His gaze locked on Kenny’s retreating back. With everything in him, he wanted to waylay Kenny from behind and beat him to a pulp. He imagined rolling around in the dirt of the cemetery with fists flying.

  He mentally shook himself out of the fantasy. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

  She clung to his arm as they trekked the parched earth to the parking area.

  All day people had assumed he was her husband. She’d tried to protest the first time. But he’d introduced himself, offered his hand and accepted the role.

  What did it matter who people thought he was? Why let these people she’d probably never see again know she was pregnant and unmarried? After the first few, she’d stopped trying to explain. Until Kenny.

  Why didn’t she want Kenny to think she was married? Because she still had feelings for him?

  His gut twisted.

  Chapter 12

  A week since her dad died. Two days since the funeral. Time for Tori to go home.

  She hugged her aunt.

  “Thanks for everything.” Brant set her suitcases by the front door.

  He’d stayed that first night, then been a daily visitor sharing meals with Tori and her aunt. Just checking on her, he said.

  “Nothing to thank me for.” Aunt Loretta hugged him, then patted Tori’s cheeks. “And you, you come stay here any time you want. In fact, you could move right back in with me and I’d be tickled pink.”

  “I’ll take these out and wait in the truck. Take your time.” Brant shuffled out and shut the door with the toe of his boot.

  “That young man’s a keeper—reminds me of my Ben.”

  “He’s a good friend.”

  “Friend.” Aunt Loretta rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. Now listen, I been needing to tell you something. Your daddy faithfully sent money for you ever since he made me your legal guardian. I made sure you got everything you needed and never spent a penny on myself.”

  “You were wonderful.” Like a second mother and the only constant after her real mother’s death. “I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

  “What you don’t know is—it was a lot of money. I squirreled the rest away in savings. I’ve been waiting until you were grown and responsible to tell you.”

  Tori had never thought of any money being left over. She’d assumed her dad had only sent enough to cover her needs. “Did the court set up the amount?”

  “Yes. But your daddy paid more. A lot more.”

  “Why?”

  “I imagine he knew he’d failed you. Failed your mother and the least he could do was take care of you financially. He was twisted up inside—but he did love you—in his own way.”

  Her father loved her? If so, he had a strange way of showing it. “I don’t really need it. I make good money.”

  “Regardless, it’s your money.”

  “So how much are we talking about?”

  “See for yourself.” Aunt Loretta dug around in her apron pocket and handed Tori a bankbook.

  Tori flipped the book open. More commas and zeroes than she’d ever imagined. Her jaw dropped and her gaze met her aunt’s. “Are you serious?”

  “Dead serious.” Aunt Loretta grinned. “And on top of that, I talked to your father’s attorney. Apparently, he had a good accountant who made some good investments. Since you’re the only heir, you should get a sizeable inheritance, plus his house in Nashville. You and your baby should never have to worry about anything. In fact, you could quit working and be a stay-at-home mom if you want.”

  Tori winced. She had to tell Aunt Loretta about the adoption soon.

  “Or go into clothing design like you always wanted. You’ve been designing your own clothes and getting compliments for years. You could even start your own line.”

  Start her own line. Get her own place. Stand on her own two feet.

  “Thank you for taking care of me so well.” Tori closed the bankbook and slid it into her purse. “I’ll write you a check once I get everything sorted.”

  “You most certainly will not. I don’t need to be paid for loving you or taking care of you.”

  “Simmer down. That’s not what I meant. I want to share this with you. You’ve always lived so simply and I want to do something special for you.”

  “I don’t need a thing. And you will not spend your hard-earned money on me.”

  “Hard earned? I didn’t do anything for it.”

  “Yes, child. You did. You lived with his fists.”

  The years of seeing her mother get beat up flashed through her mind. Tending her wounds and finding her that last time. Her eyes singed. Yes, he owed Tori. Owed them both. But it was too late for Mama.

  “I just wish I’d known what was going on back then. I’ll never understand why you or your mama never told me.”

  “We were scared of him.” Think of something else. She shook the memories off. How could she get Aunt Loretta to share in her newfound fortune?

  The simple little house had looked the same for as long as she could remember. The ancient kitchen cabinets. Appliances that hadn’t been replaced in at least a dozen years. The too-broken-in flowered couch.

  “I know. We could redecorate—add on to the house if you want. You’ve always wanted a sewing room.”

  “And that little corner in the guest room suits me fine. This money is yours and I don’t want a penny of it.”

  “I’m redecorating the house, so get ready to pick what you want or I will.”

  “Stubborn.” Aunt Loretta clucked her tongue. “Just like your mama. Lordy, I miss her. Now listen, don’t be spending anything
on me. Your father’s attorney will be contacting you soon. In the meantime, you best git. Not that I’m anxious to be rid of you, but you got a handsome keeper out there waiting for you.”

  Tori’s face warmed. “Friend.”

  “Whatever.” Aunt Loretta gave her another hug and propelled her toward the door.

  * * *

  The relentless early August heat had shoved customer after customer into the store all morning. The bell above the door rang as the last browser exited.

  Lunch time lull and Tori was relieved. She could barely concentrate. Last night, she’d sketched her entire winter clothing line right down to all the accessories. Her brain brimmed with what stores she’d market to and where her headquarters would be.

  But, how could she have her clothing line and still work in Jenna’s store? Quitting was not an option. She couldn’t let Jenna down. Not after all Jenna had done for her.

  “Tori.” Jenna’s voice tugged her back.

  “Hmm.”

  “Maybe it’s too soon for you to be here. You’re so distracted and it’s only natural. You just buried your father.”

  “I’m fine and you are not changing your plans.” Tori rearranged a bronze-and-gold-tapestry table runner to catch the light better. “You are flying out this afternoon to meet Garrett for the final leg of his tour. You should have left from the cemetery with him.”

  “He’ll be home next week. I could just stay here.”

  “No. Absolutely not.” Tori wagged a finger at her. “I’m fine. Really. It’s just...”

  “What?”

  “I found out my dad sent a lot of money over the years and I’ve got a pretty sizeable account. Apparently, his accountant made good investments and I’m waiting to hear from his lawyer. I should be the only heir.” Unless he left it all to one of his groupies.

  “That’s wonderful.” Jenna did a little bounce. “You can start your clothing designs like you’ve always wanted.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course. Why not?”