Chapter 18
“I am clearly delusional and in need of mental help,” Cecily whispered to Marcus when her mother left the kitchen to use the bathroom. “Why I thought cooking Spanish food would be a good idea is anybody’s guess.”
She had forgotten the way it was when her mother was teaching her to cook the food of their heritage; all the screaming, fighting, and arguing that ensued. Instead she had conjured a rosy image of mother/daughter bonding that in no way resembled reality.
“Too much saffron and not enough chorizo,” were her mother’s first words as soon as she entered the kitchen after unloading her bags.
“How do you know that when you haven’t even tasted it?” Cecily asked.
“I can smell, can’t I? And I’ve been cooking it longer than you.”
“And making it so spicy no one can bear to eat it,” Cecily said. “I’m leaving out some of the chorizo because Marcus’s parents don’t like spicy things.”
“Everyone likes spicy things,” Shelby said.
Cecily sighed in frustration. The worst part of their relationship was that Shelby was normal with everyone else. She doted on Kitty and never had an unkind word for her. With everyone else she was sweet, kind, loving and supportive. It was only with Cecily that her claws came out, and Cecily could seemingly do nothing right.
“Mother, when you make the paella you can make it exactly how you like. When I’m making it in my home I will make it the way I like it.”
Shelby raised an eyebrow at her. “This isn’t my home anymore?”
“You haven’t lived in it for eight years,” Cecily said.
“Legally I still own it,” Shelby said.
Cecily put her hands on her hips. “You do not. You lost it in the divorce.”
Shelby frowned. She had forgotten that fact. “Throw that up in my face, why don’t you?”
“I’m not throwing anything up in your face, Mother; I’m merely pointing out that you do not, in fact, own this house.”
Shelby cast about for something to say but Marcus preempted her before she could find it.
“You two look remarkably alike. It’s almost like Yancey contributed no genes of his own,” he said. Both women had long black hair, dark complexions, and dark eyes, although Shelby was obviously older with a slightly darker complexion.
“She certainly received her father’s stubbornness,” Shelby said.
“He says I got it from you,” Cecily returned.
“Our kids will get it from my side, too,” Marcus said. “They don’t have much chance of being docile.”
Shelby looked up at him in shock and then turned her attention to Cecily. “You’re pregnant. I knew it.”
“I am not,” Cecily said hotly.
“And that’s why you’re leaving the chorizo out. I couldn’t eat spicy things when I was pregnant, either.”
Cecily looked at her and dumped a handful of chorizo in the paella. “Not pregnant,” she said.
Shelby eyed her critically. “Don’t lie to me. I can tell you’ve gained weight.”
Cecily’s mouth fell open. Beside her Marcus tried his hardest to stifle a laugh. He didn’t succeed. She smacked him in the stomach with the back of her hand before turning on her mother.
“I am not pregnant, and I have not gained weight. If anything I’ve lost weight.” She frowned and stirred the paella. She tasted it and frowned harder. It was too spicy now.
“I guess time will tell,” Shelby said resignedly.
Cecily threw down her spoon. “I’ll go take a pregnancy test right now if you want, Mom. In fact, you can come watch me so you’re sure I don’t use someone else’s urine to fake it.”
“There’s no need for melodrama,” Shelby said.
“I think there is because it seems to be all you understand,” Cecily said.
“Then please explain to me how this marriage came about,” Shelby said. “I asked Dante and Kitty and neither of them knew you were even dating.”
“We weren’t,” Cecily admitted.
“Then why did you get married?” Shelby asked.
She blushed as she thought of Marcus’s reason for the marriage. She couldn’t very well tell her mother that the only reason he married her was because she believed in saving herself for marriage. At least she could tell her the reason she married him.
“Because I fell in love with him, all right?” Cecily said impatiently. “Because he makes me feel like no one else and I can’t live without him. I’m sorry if it didn’t fit your timetable, and I truly am sorry you weren’t at the wedding, especially because it was beautiful and perfect, but you haven’t had to live in this small community after Dad went to prison. You got to be anonymous in Chicago. You haven’t had to deal with people whispering about you behind your back or saying horrible things to your face. I didn’t want to have a long engagement or public wedding where people would feel sorry for Marcus for being tied down to poor Cecily Blake who’s father is a criminal. I wanted to go away with him and steal a few days of happiness, just for the two of us, before coming back here and facing everything and everyone waiting to make sure our happiness doesn’t last.” Somewhere during the course of her speech she started to cry. Tears streamed down her face and she didn’t bother to wipe them away.
“Come here,” Marcus commanded gently. He put his arm around her waist and ushered her into the living room. He sat on the couch, settled her in his lap and murmured gentle, soothing words to her until her tears stopped.
“Now do you see why I wanted to go away?” she asked when her tears dimmed enough for her to speak.
He smiled at her and smoothed her hair off her face. “I see that and your mother are just alike. It’s like steel on steel. She loves you; she just doesn’t know how to communicate with you. We’ll work on that.” He hugged her. “You’re doing great, and supper smells amazing. I didn’t know you could cook.”
She pressed her face to his neck. “I love you, Marcus.”
He tipped her face up to his and kissed her. “Ready to go back?” he asked.
“I suppose so,” she said. She reluctantly eased out of his embrace and followed him back to the kitchen.
If she had any delusions that her tears would have a softening effect on her mother, she was sadly mistaken. The older woman stood at the stove, wooden spoon in hand.
“I fixed the paella for you. It’s edible now,” her mother said.
Cecily turned from the room, fled the house, went to her horse, and rode away.
The Cowgirl Who Loved Horses, Queens of Montana Bonus Book Page 19
