by Liz Isaacson
Gram looked up from her crossword puzzle. “No,” she said. “Belinda is bringing the burritos.”
“Who’s this Belinda?” Simone asked. She had never heard the woman’s name, and now Grams had said it twice. Perhaps Callie or Evelyn had hired a housekeeper of sorts, and the woman had been cleaning up, bringing meals, and getting Grams out of the recliner every now and then.
And apparently, inspiring Daddy to rip out perfectly good rose bushes. Those would not go without a fight, Simone knew that.
“She’s the lady who comes to help with my exercises,” Grams said.
“How’s Daddy’s heart?” she asked. “He’s taking his medicine?”
“Every day, sweets.” Grams gave her a smile and went back to her puzzle. Simone had barely had time to stand up before the front door opened, and another woman’s voice filled the house.
“Dinner’s here,” she said, and a few moments later, she came around the corner from the front of the house. She wore a wide grin, a bright yellow blouse, and a pair of black shorts. In her hands, she carried a pan of cheesy, steaming burritos, and she hurried into the kitchen like she’d drop them at any moment.
Pushing out her breath, she said, “Whew. Those were hotter than I thought.” She took off the oven mitts she’d been using and tossed them on the counter, right on top of the peppermint cookies Simone had brought. “You must be Jerome’s daughter. One of ‘em, at least.” She stuck out her hand, and Simone felt like the world was moving too fast. “I’m Belinda.”
Simone looked at Grams and back to Belinda, finally putting her hand in the other woman’s. She was easily a couple of decades older than Simone, though not nearly as old as Grams, but she didn’t look a day over fifty.
“There you are,” Daddy said, and he’d done a lot more than wash up. He’d scrubbed his hands and face clean, combed his hair, and as the most nauseating smell hit her, Simone realized just how much cologne he’d put on.
Horror combined with shock as she realized her father had a crush on Belinda. Big time. “Looks great,” he said, his smile never wavering. “You met Simone? She’s my youngest.”
“Just did,” Belinda said, still as cheerful as ever. “You look like you lost a battle with a tiger.” She reached out and ran her fingertips down Daddy’s arms, tracing some of the wounds from the thorns. “I told you I’d have my son come take those bushes out.” She wore concern in her eyes, and another terrible realization crashed down on Simone.
Her father and Belinda were dating.
Dating.
And Simone couldn’t get a man to remember her.
Pure humiliation filled her, and tears sprang to her eyes. Daddy and Belinda conversed around her. Grams got out of the recliner and started pulling down plates. The house had a completely new energy to it, and Simone didn’t know what to make of it.
It was good, and she didn’t care if her father dated someone. It was just…unexpected. Simone’s mother had died when she was very young, and Daddy had never dated. Never remarried, in almost forty years.
“Are you staying, sugar?” Daddy asked.
“No,” Simone said, deciding on the spot. “Everything looks amazing, Belinda.” She forced a smile to her mouth. “But I can’t stay. I just came to see how you two were and bring you some cookies.”
And they were fine without her. Just like everyone else.
Simone’s throat closed up as she hugged Grams and Daddy, as she walked toward the front door, as she got behind the wheel of her SUV.
“Is that what you wanted me to see?” she asked the Lord. “What am I supposed to do with that? How does this help me with Micah?”
God didn’t inspire any more thoughts in Simone’s mind, and she backed out of the driveway, determined not to cry that her father’s love life was more active than hers.
As she drove back to the ranch, she only had one thought in her mind. Go talk to Micah.
Go talk to him.
Just go talk to him.
Instead of fighting the urge to go see him, Simone turned into Seven Sons Ranch instead of continuing down the lane to the Shining Star.
Her father’s bright eyes and Belinda’s laugh as she’d left the house drove Simone up the steps. Her own loneliness got her to knock on the door.
And the constant prayer just behind her tongue kept her there while she waited, and waited, and waited for someone to open the door.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“What do you mean, it’s for me?” Micah stood in his bathroom, his electric razor in his hand. Ophelia never came out to the ranch, because that made no sense. He picked her up from her house in town when they went out—as they were set to do in an hour or so.
“It’s for you,” Jeremiah repeated. “Could you just come get it, please? I’ve got a lot to handle in the kitchen as it is.” He walked away as another cry filled the air. JJ had been particularly fussy tonight, and Whitney was only a couple of days away from delivering another baby. Then she and Jeremiah would have two kids under fourteen months old.
Micah took his razor with him as he followed Jeremiah down the hall. The chaos to his left probably should’ve cured him of his own desire to find a wife and have a family, and he turned right, toward the front door. He wanted the crying kids, the messy house, the faintly frantic air of home and family. That was home and family to him, as he’d always existed among many others, and life was often more messy than clean in the Walker household.
He hadn’t even heard the doorbell ring, and when he pulled open the front door, he knew why.
Simone Foster stood there, and she wouldn’t have used the doorbell. “Oh,” he said, the first thing that came to his mind.
“Hey,” she said, drawing in a big breath. “I was just wondering, I mean, maybe you’re busy.” Her eyes dropped to the razor, and pure humiliation poured through Micah that he’d answered the door halfway through shaving. But he couldn’t stop now.
He also had no idea what to say. Thankfully, Simone kept talking. “I know I might have messed up too badly, Micah. I know that. But I hate…this. I hate that I can’t talk to you. I hate that when I go to my father’s and find out he’s seeing someone, that I can’t call you and gossip about it. I hate that I made peppermint cookies, and you’re not in my shed, eating them with me.” She took another breath, but she seemed a little out of control to Micah.
And everything she was saying…. Micah wasn’t sure what to make of it.
“I know you’re dating Ophelia.” She started nodding. “I know that. And you two are just so…darn cute together.” She pushed out all that air. “It’s disgusting, really.” She smiled playfully at him, and Micah wasn’t sure who he was looking at.
Simone, the woman who wanted to be his friend and talk about his dates with Ophelia? Or Simone, the woman he’d kissed as passionately as he’d ever kissed a woman?
And that wasn’t enough, he reminded himself. She still didn’t want to take their relationship out of the shadows. Maybe he wasn’t a good kisser, though none of the other women he’d dated had ever complained.
Of course, Stephanie hadn’t been truly interested in advancing their relationship until she’d learned how much money he had. So maybe he really wasn’t boyfriend or husband material.
“Anyway, I just needed to talk to someone,” she said, falling back a step. She nodded to the razor. “Are you going out tonight?”
He couldn’t very well lie about it. “Yes,” he said, still moving that blasted razor over his jaw. He wondered if she just needed to talk to someone, or if she needed to talk to him. He wasn’t sure why he was hoping it was him and not someone. He was dating someone else.
“Your dad is seeing someone?” he asked, pushing away the confusing feelings.
“Yes.” Simone’s eyes widened and she huffed. “Can you believe it?”
“I kind of can’t,” Micah said, finally finishing with the razor. He glanced over his shoulder, surprised Jeremiah hadn’t yelled at him to close the front door so
he didn’t have to cool the whole ranch. That just spoke to how overwhelmed his brother was. “Do you want to come in for a minute? It’s hot out here.”
“Sure.” Simone squeezed right past him, putting one hand flat against his chest. She smiled again, and Micah felt like her touch had branded him right through the fabric of his shirt. And he had no idea what he was doing as he looked both ways, as if he couldn’t be seen going into the homestead with Simone Foster and stepped back inside. He closed the door behind him and followed Simone into the sitting room off the main hall that led down to the kitchen and the rest of the house.
“How are Wyatt and Marcy?” she asked, turning back to him.
Micah drank her in, everything about her. He had the lines of her beautiful face memorized, and he remembered what the silky strands of her hair felt like between his fingers. He’d sorely missed talking to her too, and the fact that she hadn’t come to the hospital to see the new Walker baby hadn’t escaped his attention.
Today, she wore a pair of black leggings that called to his male side, along with a white and pink striped blouse. Micah swallowed and worked very hard not to let his gaze drip down the height of her body.
She wasn’t his. He had a girlfriend—a girlfriend who wasn’t Simone Foster.
“They’re good,” he managed to say, even if his voice did carry the quality of frogs. “They named the baby Warren.”
Simone nodded and glanced around the room again. Liam and Tripp had once shared it as an office, so it was plenty big enough for two big desks, six monitors, and their two huge bodies, cowboy hats, and egos.
But somehow, it felt microscopically small to Micah in that moment. He cleared his throat. “You said something about peppermint cookies?”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t bring me any?” He made a show of looking at her hands, as if he could miss a plate of cookies. He was flirting, and he knew it. Guilt gutted him. What would Ophelia think if she could see him right now?
“I didn’t plan on stopping,” Simone said.
“Then why did you?” Micah was done playing games with Simone, that was for sure.
“I…I couldn’t shake the thought,” she finally said. She wore a look of nerves in those dark, deep, delicious eyes, and Micah didn’t like that. But he didn’t know how to erase it. She’d created the situation between them, and if it made her nervous, so be it.
“So I’ll have to come by your place to get the cookies, is that it?” He grinned at her, hoping he could cover his own anxiety with a smile.
“If there are any left by the time you stop by, they’ll be yours.” She gave him a smile and nodded. “Okay, I should go. Have fun on your date.” She stepped past him again, and Micah just watched her move by him.
She’d opened the front door and stepped onto the porch before he called after her, “When’s your next play, Simone?” He rounded the corner in time to see her turn back toward him.
“I’m taking a break right now,” she said. “I’ll audition in October or November for the spring one. I’m still waiting to see what it will be.”
He nodded. He couldn’t tell her he’d taken Ophelia to her last play, just so he could see her act, and sing, and dance on stage. He couldn’t tell her he’d looked up her theater company and learned that anyone could audition for any play. He couldn’t tell her how much he missed her, or how glad he was that she’d stopped by, or how beautiful she was with the early evening light haloing her.
Not while he had a girlfriend.
Probably never again, he told himself as Simone lifted her hand in a half-hearted wave and went down the steps.
“Are we cooling the whole world or what?” Jeremiah demanded behind him, and Micah spun back to the homestead.
“Sorry,” he said, hurrying back over to the door as Jeremiah stomped down the hall and further into the house. Micah turned back in time to watch Simone climb into her SUV, back up, turn around, and go down the lane toward the Shining Star.
And he suddenly did not want to go out with Ophelia. He wished the woman he’d been shaving for was none other than Simone Foster, and that he’d be standing on her stoop in an hour, ready to take her to dinner and then to the llama festival.
A sigh filled his soul as he closed the door and walked back into the bathroom to put away his razor. “But what am I supposed to do?” he asked the empty air around him. “Break up with Ophelia and beg Simone for another chance?”
They’d already tried a relationship three times. Three. And wasn’t that supposed to be the magic number? Third time’s the charm and all that?
Micah shook his head and went into the bedroom to find his cowboy hat. Hatted, with cologne on, properly shaved, and with his new Wyatt Walker collection belt securely fastened, Micah left the chaotic homestead and drove into town.
He rang Ophelia’s doorbell, and grinned at Ophelia, and kissed Ophelia hello.
This was right. This was a good, healthy relationship. Ophelia was amazing, and beautiful, and smart.
He and Simone were simply not meant to be.
“Are you ready for this?” she asked.
“A llama festival?” Micah chuckled and offered his arm to his girlfriend, who laced her hand through it. “I was born ready for this.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Mal stirred her coffee, wondering what time Skyler had gotten up. In Amarillo, he’d never beaten her into the kitchen to make coffee. But today, only a week after Madison Wilkerson had come by this new house, he’d gotten up super early, slipped away from her, made coffee, and went running by himself.
It was the running that stabbed the deepest. That was something they’d always done together, even when things between them were strained.
“Never been this bad before,” Mal mused, watching the leaves and branches on the huge oak tree sway in the morning breeze. Skyler had been sticking close to his brothers, especially Micah and Jeremiah, since they’d moved to the ranch.
Mal couldn’t help wondering if that was because the immigration agent had shown up the same day they’d moved in, and Skyler just needed space from what Mal had told him.
She had called her sister, and she’d learned that everyone in her family now knew that her original I-do with Skyler had been simply to keep her in the country. Nothing was so simple anymore, and Mal didn’t know what to do.
Julia had assured her that they wouldn’t say anything should anyone from the US contact them, and Mal had to live with that reassurance. She couldn’t go to Mexico and make sure they said the right things. She didn’t believe her family would really be interviewed, but the hole still existed down deep in her stomach.
She’d never wanted to make trouble for Skyler, and she absolutely could not be the reason he got in trouble with the law again. His previous girlfriend had been the cause of that, and Mal couldn’t stand the thought of being in the same category as Shayla.
She also didn’t want to spend her day off alone. August was right around the corner, and it was too hot to spend much time outside, especially in the middle of the day. Skyler had taken Rosie running with him, and maybe Mal could take her to the dog park later that day. Maybe she should start on the strawberry shortcake she’d promised Wyatt.
He and Marcy had brought their son home a few days ago, and Mal couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate a new baby than with strawberry shortcake. It helped that Wyatt ate everything she made with a huge smile on his face, compliments for her cooking flowing freely the whole time.
Mal had gone to the hospital with Skyler and the rest of the Walker family. With more people around, it was easy to get lost in the energy of seven sons, their wives and families. But here at home…Mal felt like someone had draped the house under a steel blanket, and she was pushing, pushing, pushing against the weight of it.
“So what do I do?” she asked. Since she’d started going to church, she’d started asking questions like this out loud. They weren’t for her. But she was hoping God would hear her and tel
l her what to do.
She had the sudden thought to go get the rest of her things in Amarillo. Skyler had hired a company to bring most of their stuff from the apartment in Amarillo, but there were still beds there. She could buy food and paper plates for a weekend.
She had a storage unit for some things she’d kept from her apartment that she hadn’t brought to Skyler’s when they’d first gotten married.
Decided, she picked up her phone and called Heidi.
“Mal, dear, how are you?”
“Good,” Mal said, hating what she was about to do. “I’m wondering how hard it would be for me to take Saturday and Monday off?” She closed her eyes and waited for Heidi to say something. A prayer ran through her mind as she begged God to soften Heidi’s heart. She didn’t want to stay in this tense house for another weekend.
“That should be fine,” Heidi said. “I’ll have Zack come in a couple of extra days.”
Relief filled Mal. “Great. Thanks so much, Heidi.”
“Are you going somewhere fun?”
“No,” Mal said. “I mean, I just need to get back to Amarillo and get a few things. I thought I’d make a weekend of it.”
“I need to get to Amarillo too,” she said, her voice softening. “I grew up there, you know.”
“I didn’t know that,” Mal said, her heart opening to Heidi. “Are your parents still there?”
“Daddy is,” she said. “My mother died a few years ago.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“She was a lovely woman, and she lived a long, good life,” Heidi said. “Nothing to be sorry about. But I should go visit my father.”
Mal nodded, but she didn’t know what else to say. She wouldn’t see her family for another eight years, and the weight of that pressed against her lungs in the most painful way.
“Have fun,” Heidi said, her voice brightening. “I better call Zack.”
“See you in the morning,” Mal said. The call ended, and she immediately went down the hall to the bedroom. Skyler had been sleeping in the bed with her, but he stayed out in the living room for hours after she went to bed, and she only knew he’d been there because his side of the bed wasn’t made in the morning when she got up.
