by Judy Duarte
And never once had he used the word we.
* * *
If there was one thing Angie hated, it was being late when meeting her mother. But she’d tossed and turned all night, thinking long and hard about Toby’s dilemma, as well as her own. And she hadn’t fallen asleep until almost dawn.
Needless to say, she’d overslept. So she quickly showered, dressed and pulled her hair into a ponytail. She figured she’d apply a quick coat of lipstick when she stopped at the first traffic light in Lubbock.
She’d no more than tossed her purse onto the passenger seat of her car when Mr. Murdock stepped out on his back porch, his cup of coffee steaming in his hands. He was wearing a bright yellow shirt that read Not As Mean, Not As Lean, But Still A Marine.
“Good morning, Mr. Murdock.” She gave him a little wave as she slipped behind the wheel and strapped on her seat belt.
“Slow down, Girly.” Mr. Murdock took his time as he lumbered down the steps, obviously intent on talking to her.
She’d told him yesterday that she was meeting her mom for brunch this morning. Didn’t he realize that if she was even ten minutes late she was in for a lecture even the best mimosa couldn’t dull?
When he finally made his way beside her idling car, he asked, “You tell your mama you’re living here yet?”
“No, but I promise to do it today.” And she would, even if it meant her mother would again offer to put a down payment on a condo in Lubbock for her.
Angie could hear it now. There’s no way I’ll tolerate my only child living in some old-timer’s run-down granny flat in Horseback Hollow. In fact, her mom would be scrolling through the online MLS pages before the eggs Benedict arrived.
“Well, that’s the thing, Girly. I don’t see any need for you to mention that to old Doris.”
Old Doris? Angie couldn’t help but chuckle. If her mom could hear the eightysomething-year-old veteran refer to her as old, she’d be searching the internet for deals on Botox injections.
“Why the change of heart?” Angie asked her landlord. Just last month, Mr. Murdock had insisted that she stand up to her mother and become her own person.
Angie had tried to explain to the competitive man that she was passive-aggressive by nature. And that it was easier to nod her head and then do whatever she wanted to do anyway. So she was surprised that the old marine didn’t want her to do battle at brunch today.
“Last night, while I was down at the VFW, Pete told me that the Jones boy was adopting those three kids.”
“You shouldn’t listen to gossip, Mr. Murdock. Especially from Pete. Wasn’t he the one who told you that Ethel Gardiner was as bald as the cue balls in the Two Moon Saloon?”
“Yep. He did.”
“And then you pulled on her hair, thinking it was a wig, and she smacked you silly.”
“That slap won me five bucks.” Mr. Murdock stood tall and puffed out his chest. “Her hair might have been dyed the shade of Pepto-Bismol, but I knew it wasn’t no dang wig.”
Angie wanted to laugh, but with her foot on the clutch, ready for her to slip the car into Reverse and back out, she was afraid a fit of giggles would cause her to stall the engine.
Besides, she didn’t have time to waste getting off on tangents, so she steered the topic back to the original.
“What does Toby adopting those kids have to do with me telling my mother that I rent the granny flat from you?” she asked.
“Well, the way I figure it, since you spend about all your time at his ranch helping him with those young’uns, he’ll convince you to move in with him before Old Doris ever finds out you ever lived here.”
Thankfully, Mr. Murdock had the grace to turn and walk back to his house so Angie wasn’t forced to come up with any sort of reply or denial. Instead, she backed out of the driveway and drove to Lubbock, hoping she didn’t get a speeding ticket while she was at it.
As usual, Mr. Murdock had a funny take on things. But there was no way Toby would ask her to move in with him, especially now that he was seeking permanent custody of the kids. In fact, it looked as though their relationship—whatever there was of it—was going to have to take an even bigger backseat to the kids.
But she understood why. And she’d go with the flow. She’d have to deal with her disappointment later.
When she finally arrived at the quaint cottage-style bistro in Lubbock, Angie saw her mother’s sedan parked in front. She found an empty space a few shops down the street, yet didn’t immediately climb out of the car.
Dealing with Doris Edwards was nothing new. She’d been ignoring her instructions and advice for years. So why did she feel like backing out of the parking space and driving in the opposite direction—as far as she could from Lubbock and from Horseback Hollow?
The only thing stopping her from doing so now was a promise she’d made Toby. She’d told him she would pick up the children at the ball field and take them to dinner at The Grill so he could meet with some of his family this afternoon and talk about the adoption plans.
So she couldn’t flake on him—or the kids, who would be looking forward to seeing her.
Steeling herself with a deep breath, Angie entered the restaurant and spotted her mom, joining her at a small table in back.
“You finally made it,” Doris said. “I thought for sure that old wreck you drive around had broken down somewhere on the highway.”
And there was the first insult of the day. But, hey, brunch wouldn’t last more than an hour.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” Angie said. “How are you, Mom?”
“I’ve never been better. And you’d know that if you came to see me more.”
Insult number two.
“I wish I could come to town more often, but I’ve been busy lately.”
“So I’ve heard. I talked to Ethel Gardiner on Monday. And she said that you’ve been spending a lot of time with Toby Fortune Jones and those kids he has running around his house.”
Angie crossed her arms, suddenly not the least bit sorry about Mr. Murdock’s bet with Pete. Ethel Gardiner deserved to have her pink locks tugged after spreading gossip.
“For the record,” Angie said, “Toby’s an amazing guy. Not many men would give up so much to take care of three children who weren’t their own.”
“That’s just it,” Doris argued. “Those kids aren’t his own. It’s unnatural. I mean, maybe if he used some of his family money and spent more time making something out of that ranch of his and less time playing daddy, he could be the right man for you.”
Angie wanted to tell her mother that Toby didn’t have any family money, but it really wasn’t any of her business. So instead she signaled the waitress and ordered a much-needed cappuccino.
She normally would’ve spent twenty minutes reading every detailed item on the menu and trying to decide what to order. But since she wanted to get out of this restaurant as quickly as possible, she pointed to the frittata special—which was the first thing listed on the menu.
Her mother ordered plain yogurt, and Angie wondered why the woman would even bother coming out to eat if that was all she was going to have.
“You know,” Angie said, “if you drove out to the ranch and spent some time with Toby and the kids, you’d see things differently.”
Had Angie actually suggested that? What would Toby say? He might claim to be easygoing, but having her mom around would probably be the kiss of death for their relationship—or whatever it was they had.
“Your defensive response is telling,” Doris said.
“Telling?” How could it tell Doris anything when Angie didn’t know what she was feeling herself?
“It sounds like you’re trying to sell me on a ready-made family. You’re not, are you? I mean, look at your history. You’ve avoided any kind of commitment in the past—and
not just when it comes to relationships.”
Angie couldn’t argue with that.
“Besides,” Doris said, “if you can’t commit one hundred percent to those kids, then you shouldn’t waste your time with their foster dad. It wouldn’t be fair, especially if those children have lost as many people as everyone says they have.”
Angie didn’t normally see eye to eye with her mom, but those last words resonated loud and clear.
She didn’t want to give anyone false hope, especially those kids.
“Plus, dear, you were meant to be so much more than just a mother.”
Was she? She’d always thought that she was destined for more. After all, Doris had been telling her that for years. But she could still hear Jeanne Marie’s words, still feel the way they’d warmed her heart.
...you’re more than qualified to do my job.
Angie had been good at it, too. And she liked the kids. She’d even turned down some afternoon shifts at the Superette so that she could help Toby more with the carpooling.
But the Mama Angie gig had only been going on for a couple of weeks. Could she continue doing it for the next ten or fifteen years?
And did she even want to?
When the waitress brought their breakfast, Angie stared at the frittata placed in front of her. Why hadn’t she ordered the stuffed French toast instead?
For some reason she found herself retreating back to her usual on-the-fence mode.
Was she up to the job of raising children?
Talk about long-term commitments.
What if the kids bonded with her, and then she skipped out on them?
Or maybe even worse, what if she stuck it out, like her mother had done when Angie had been growing up, and the decision to stay in an unhappy situation only made her life, as well as those of everyone around her, miserable?
No, in this case, her mother had called it right. Angie had never been able to commit to anything up until now. And those children needed stability in their lives more than anything.
Of course, Toby had never given her any reason to believe he envisioned her as a part of his long-term family plan. And the fact that he hadn’t lanced something soft and fragile inside.
In what ways had Toby found her lacking?
Certainly not as a lover—or as a teammate, babysitter or friend.
But did he question her ability to make a lasting commitment to him and the kids? If so, she couldn’t blame him for that. Because as much as she’d come to care for that precious little family, she had those same worries herself.
“I know you’ve never taken my advice in the past,” Doris said. “And it’s no secret that you pretend to listen—and that you think I’m pushy.”
For some reason, Angie couldn’t let that one go without commenting. “Listen, Mom. I love you. And I appreciate the fact that you believe you have my best interests at heart. But this is my life, not yours. You may have made some bad choices in the past, but they were yours to make—and yours to live with. Right or wrong, I intend to do the same thing. If you want to offer a bit of advice, that’s fine. But then drop it. Please.”
Doris sat there for a moment, then cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, Angie. Believe it or not, I really don’t mean to interfere. I’ll try to be more respectful of you in the future. And I’ll be supportive of whatever you decide to do—even if it means going out to the ranch for a visit.”
“Thank you. And for the record, I truly care for Toby and those kids. I actually love them. But deciding what to do about that isn’t a simple decision for me to make. And no matter what I choose to do, I’ll do it with my eyes and my heart wide open, knowing that if I make the wrong decision, if I end up hurt or disappointed in the long run, then so be it.”
Doris placed her napkin in her lap, signaling it was time to eat and to put unpleasant matters behind them. “Since you understand the importance and are giving it a great deal of thought, I can respect that. So I’ll drop the subject. I just hope that you will be able to make that decision quickly.”
Her mother had never been more right.
Angie was facing the most critical decision she’d ever had to make—one that could prove to be life-changing and heartbreaking. And one she couldn’t afford to stew about.
But instead of only having to consider the effects of her choice on her own life, her own heart, she had to consider what it would do to three children and to Toby, as well.
That being said, she really had to follow her heart, even if it was breaking. And that meant there was only one possible choice.
She had to step back and let them go.
And the sooner she told Toby the better.
Chapter Eleven
Toby’s meeting with his family had gone even better than he’d hoped. When he’d laid out his dilemma and his plan, they’d all agreed to support him in a full-scale custody battle—if it should come to that—and in his attempt to adopt Brian, Justin and Kylie.
The only concern that had come up was the cost of legal fees, which could get expensive, but Toby had already talked at length to Jake Gleason, the attorney who’d drawn up the trust. So he was able to explain to his family that he, as the trustee, was allowed to tap into the principal at his discretion for any unexpected needs the kids might have. He’d also been able to assure them that securing a permanent home qualified as such a need.
So now Toby was on his way to The Grill. He intended to have a heart-to-heart talk with Angie while the kids played in the arcade. He wasn’t looking forward to it, but he had to do it.
Over the past twenty-four hours, he’d been preoccupied with thoughts of the custody hearing and the adoption, but not so much that he hadn’t sensed a very subtle difference in Angie. And he’d picked up on it again in the distant tone in her voice when they’d talked on the phone earlier.
He sensed that she was withdrawing from him, just as he’d suspected she would. And he really couldn’t blame her. His life had taken a sudden and complicated turn, one their budding relationship wasn’t prepared to handle.
Asking her to babysit or to fix Kylie’s hair was one thing, but assuming that she’d want to take on even more responsibility or to actually become a permanent part of his and the children’s lives was something completely different.
For one thing, she was still trying to find herself and her way in the world. How could he ask her to take on a burden she clearly wasn’t ready for? Besides, she might want to have her own kids someday, and a large family was... Well, it was probably more than a woman who’d grown up as an only child would ever consider.
On top of that, they hadn’t been dating very long.
Dating? He couldn’t even call it that. One amazing night of lovemaking, no matter how amazing it might have been, wasn’t the kind of romantic relationship Angie deserved. Not when the bulk of their time together was spent dealing with sick kids, spilled milk and squabbles over whose turn it was to use the laptop or the TV remote.
Heck, Toby had never even taken her out on a real date, had never provided her with candlelight and roses. There’d been no nights on the town, no holding hands in the movie theater or dancing until dawn.
So allowing things to continue in the way they’d been going wasn’t fair to her.
Knowing Angie, she was probably trying to figure out how to end things between them without hurting or disappointing the kids. So Toby would just have to make things easier on her. And, in the long run, he’d make things easier on all of them.
While the kids played in the arcade, oblivious to the custody battle that loomed, Toby would thank Angie for all she’d done for him. Then he’d let her off the hook, making the decision for her. If she wanted to stick around for dinner, they’d have one last meal together, then she’d go her way, and he and the kids would go theirs.
&nbs
p; It sounded easy enough. He just hoped his voice didn’t crack and reveal the ache in his heart that set in whenever he thought about her walking out of his life for good.
When Toby arrived at The Grill and spotted Angie’s Toyota in the parking lot, his heart skipped a beat, and his breathing stalled. She’d probably been here awhile, since he was ten minutes later than he’d told her he’d be.
Yet he continued to sit in his truck, his hands on the steering wheel, wishing there was another way around what he had to do, but knowing there wasn’t. Finally, he mustered his courage and opened the driver’s door to let himself out. Then he headed for the front entrance.
When he stepped inside The Grill, he was met by Bonnie Sue Hillman, a petite blonde waitress.
“Angie is in the big booth in back,” Bonnie Sue said, “and the kids are in the arcade, going through quarters like crazy.”
“Thanks. Have they ordered yet?”
Bonnie Sue laughed. “Angie’s only been here for about fifteen minutes, and it takes her a lot longer than that just to study the menu.”
As Toby made his way to the booth where Angie sat, another waitress stopped at her table. She said something to Angie and nodded. Then she whipped out her pad and pencil.
Toby approached, just as Angie said, “Brian will have the cheeseburger—well-done, no onions, lettuce or pickles. But he’d like extra tomatoes. And can you bring a side of mustard for his fries?”
As the waitress made note of it, Angie added, “Justin would like the corn dog, but instead of fries, he’ll have onion rings with a side of ranch dressing. Kylie wants the grilled cheese with American—not cheddar. And can you please ask the cook to cut it into four triangles? If not, I can do that. She’d also like a bowl of strawberries—if you have them. When Toby gets here, he’ll want the double bacon cheeseburger, fried pickles and a peanut-butter milk shake. He can share the onion rings with Justin. And I’ll have the patty melt on rye and an iced tea with lemon.”
Bonnie Sue, who’d followed Toby to the booth with a handful of menus, blew out a little whistle. “That’s gotta be some kind of record. You’d think Angie’s been ordering food for you guys for years.”
