Spring at Saddle Run

by Delores Fossen

  Because Frankie looked as if she could use it, Millie went to her and pulled her into a hug. “Are you still in love with Tanner?”

  Frankie pooh-poohed that with a hollow laugh, but Millie suspected it was true. Or at least leaning toward the truth. “The sex just sort of happened. Tanner had come over to read Little T a bedtime story, and after he fell asleep, Tanner and I had a beer. One thing led to another.”

  Millie didn’t want to fill in the blanks, but that had been a big leap between “one thing” and “another.” Or maybe it hadn’t.

  “Had you two slept together before this?” Millie pulled back to look Frankie in the eyes. “I mean, before six weeks ago but after the divorce?”

  Frankie swallowed hard. Nodded. “It happens every now and then.”

  Millie bristled even more for Tanner. It wasn’t right for him to play around with Frankie’s emotions this way. Then again, Frankie might be willing to put up with the playing around for good sex. Millie was starting to see such things as having many shades of gray.

  “I’m late,” Frankie said in that same blurting-out tone as before.

  It took Millie a moment to realize Frankie wasn’t talking about an appointment. It was “the” kind of late that had put this seriously troubled expression on her face.

  “I haven’t taken a test yet,” Frankie went on. “But I was hoping you’d do me a huge favor and buy me a couple of the pee sticks. I don’t mean here in town but maybe at the Quik Stop off the interstate. If I go in to buy them, I’ll start crying. Or maybe screaming.”

  Frankie stopped, moved on to some mild hyperventilation, and she caught on to Millie’s arms. “I can’t be pregnant. I just can’t be. The gossips would have a field day over me getting knocked up again. Little T would get teased about it and Tanner, well, he wouldn’t be very happy over making the same mistake twice.”

  Since Frankie seemed to be on the verge of doing that crying or screaming right now, Millie hugged her again. “I’ll be here late tonight while Jimbo redoes the locks, but I’ll get the tests for you first thing in the morning.”

  “No,” Frankie answered in a flash. “Little T’s having some of his friends over for a sleepover tomorrow, and I don’t want to get bad news right before that. Day after tomorrow is fine. And then maybe you can stay with me while I pee on the stick.”

  “Absolutely,” Millie assured her. She’d never watched another woman pee, but she’d done plenty of the tests herself and knew how the waiting could mess with your mind.

  And how the results could break your heart.

  In her case, it’d been the negative results that’d done it. Those minus signs were little SOBs, but Frankie would have to deal with the opposite. A plus sign could mean her world being tipped on its axis.

  Frankie went stiff when the bells jangled on the front door. “It’s probably Jimbo,” Millie murmured, and she walked out into the shop to check. Definitely not Jimbo.

  “It’s Joe,” Millie relayed to Frankie.

  Behind her, Millie was certain that Frankie was in the frantic mode of trying to gather her composure and not look as if her world was doing the axis tip thing. Millie, however, tried to put on her best “nothing’s wrong/so wonderful to see you” face. The last one was actually true, and the first one was a dismal failure because Joe obviously saw right through it.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Just a girl deal,” Frankie said, hurrying out of the office.

  Frowning, Joe looked at Millie, and he was no doubt wondering if the girl deal meant that she’d told Frankie about what had gone on in her car at the drive-in. Millie quickly shook her head.

  “I was upset about Laurie Jean accusing me of blackmail,” Frankie added. “But Millie cheered me up.” She made a quick sound of surprise when she looked at her watch. “Gotta go. Thanks, Millie. Bye.”

  Millie seriously doubted anyone could have gotten out of the shop faster than Frankie. It was practically a sprint.

  “Is she okay?” Joe asked, watching his sister’s blur of motion as she darted out of sight.

  Rock meets hard place. And she had to go with that sliver of space in between that was neither a lie nor the truth. “Laurie Jean shouldn’t have accused Frankie of blackmail. Then again, she shouldn’t have accused you, either.”

  Joe made a sound that could have meant anything. “I figured Frankie was here because she was riled about Tanner seeing Skylar.”

  “That, too,” Millie acknowledged, and because she wanted to get off the subject of his sister, she motioned toward her office. “Want a drink?”

  He glanced at Jimbo, who was engrossed in installing the lock on the back door. “Sure,” he said. He followed her into the office.

  And he shut the door.

  Millie might have turned the question around and asked him what was wrong, but she was way off base. It was more of what was right. Very right.

  Joe hauled her to him and kissed her. It was one of those thorough kisses, too, that both melted and rattled her at the same time. Along with also confusing her because he pulled back almost as fast as he’d pulled her in.

  “Dara will be home soon so I can’t stay long,” he explained.

  Oh, so there would be no lock and key repeats. She tried not to feel so disappointed even though it likely wouldn’t have happened, anyway, what with Jimbo in the shop.

  Joe reached in his pocket, pulled out three foil-wrapped condoms and showed them to her. Three. Condoms. Three!

  So, maybe sex was going to happen after all?

  No, she decided when she looked at him. There was some serious disappointment as well on his face, along with a dash of uncertainty. He might not officially be her lover, but she was reasonably sure that wasn’t his lover expression.

  “Consider them tokens,” he explained, glancing down at the condoms. “Give it some thought as to what you want to do with them. You can use them. Or not.”

  Millie had to shake her head. “Color me confused. The only thing I’d want to do with them is use them on you, and I really don’t have to give that any thought.”

  She ended that with a smile.

  And an invitational wink.

  He swallowed hard. “You need to think,” he insisted. “Because this could explode all over us.”

  Oh, yes. She definitely had sex on the brain because that didn’t sound like a bad thing to her. Then again, with Joe’s kiss still whirling around her body like a hot tornado, she probably wasn’t a good judge of that.

  “Give it some thought,” he emphasized. “And if we go for round two, I have three conditions. You’ll need to give those some thought, too.” He dropped one of the condoms on her desk. “If we keep seeing each other, I don’t want to talk about our spouses.”

  Millie nodded so fast that her neck popped.

  Joe laid another condom on her desk. “I don’t want us to be together in the houses we shared with our spouses.”

  Again, she gave him a fast nod. No way did she want fresh memories of Joe mingling with those old ones of Royce. And she especially didn’t want to do any memory mingling in a space that’d once been Ella’s.

  “We can use the room upstairs,” she suggested, especially since she’d had it cleaned from top to bottom.

  She picked up the two condoms again and wondered if he’d consider five seconds enough thinking time.

  He dropped a third condom on the desk. “Final condition. It has to stay just sex. A moment-to-moment, maybe hour-to-hour kind of deal. Because I’m not ready—”

  “I know,” Millie interrupted. “I’m not ready, either.”

  However, she had the unsettling feeling that she was a lot closer to being in ready mode than Joe was. Or ever would be. That’s why Millie mentally repeated to herself that sex was the bottom line with Joe. Still, it was far better than any other bottom line she’d
had in a long time.

  “I’ll think about it,” she said just to appease him. But she knew if she had her way, using all three of the condoms would happen. “Why don’t you go ahead and pencil us in for a sex date. The shop is closed Sunday. Maybe that would work best.” And the two days between then and now should be enough thinking time. “Sunday evening,” she clarified since she had to buy the pregnancy test for Frankie that morning and then hang with her while she took it.

  “Sunday evening,” he agreed. “But only if you’re absolutely certain it’s what you want to do.”

  It all sounded very official. Formal, even. When he kissed her again though, Millie knew there was nothing formal about it. This was a basic-instinct lust kind of thing with Joe poised to come through on giving her all sorts of pleasures. Hopefully, getting pleasure from her, too.

  Her heartbeat was throbbing in her ears when he pulled away from her. Actually, other parts of her were throbbing, too, which was probably why she hadn’t heard the bells jingle on the front door.

  “Someone just came into the shop,” Joe grumbled, stepping back from her.

  It took her several moments to catch her breath. “It’s probably Jimbo doing the locks.” She opened her office door, looked out and nearly gasped. Definitely not Jimbo.

  It was Dara.

  And the girl wasn’t alone. She had two boys and another girl with her.

  “Millie?” she called out, sounding just as cheerful as usual. “I brought some friends by to see Mom’s paintings. I hope that’s okay.”

  Millie crammed the condoms in her desk drawer, and her gaze flew to Joe’s, silently asking how they should handle this. “You could stay out of sight until they leave,” she whispered to him. That way, Dara wouldn’t have questions about why he was there.

  Joe didn’t stay out of sight though. That probably had something to do with the voices that started to trickle through the shop. Boy voices. Joe stepped out of the office, his gaze zooming right to the four teenagers heading their way.

  “That’s Rico Donnelly’s kid,” Joe grumbled.

  Yes, it was, and the boy had the unfortunate timing of slinging his arm carelessly over Dara’s shoulder so that his fingers dangled over her right breast. Millie thought she heard Joe growl.

  “Settle down, Papa Bear,” Millie whispered to him. “I’ll get him something else to do with his hands. Dara,” she called out in the same breath.

  Millie went to the girl, reaching out for a hug, but Dara was also reaching out—to move the boy’s arm off her. No need to intercede. Dara had taken care of it herself.

  “Dad,” Dara said, shifting her attention to him.

  Hard to miss those thudding footsteps of his. She opened her mouth, probably to ask why he was there, but then she closed it, smiled a little.

  “Hi, Mr. McCann,” the perky blonde girl said.

  “Good to see you, Bella.” But his scowl stayed fixed on the Donnelly boy who was withering inch by inch.

  “Oh, I should make introductions,” Dara said after an uncomfortable silence. “Millie, this is Bella Conroy. We’ve been best friends since preschool. And that’s Jace Mendoza and Ian Donnelly.” The dark-haired boy, Jace, gave a greeting nod to Millie, then Joe. Ian, aka Rico Donnelly’s kid, continued to wither.

  “Is it too late for us to see Mom’s art?” Dara asked. “I mean, I know you’re closed, but I saw the light on and your car in the parking lot so I figured you were here. I didn’t see your truck,” she added to Joe.

  “I’m parked up the street.” He’d done that probably to avoid gossip about him being in the shop. “I thought Bella’s mom was giving you a ride home.”

  “Oh, she is,” Dara verified. “She’s at the hair salon, but she should be done soon. I told her we wouldn’t be long.”

  “You can ride back with me,” Joe said, and nope, he still hadn’t taken his eyes off Ian.

  “Dad,” Dara said like a plea. “I really want Bella’s mom to do that. And can Bella stay the night? Please?” Dara added.

  Joe didn’t say anything for some snail-crawling moments. “Yeah. She can stay.” He finally turned to Millie, and again going with intuition, she thought he might be about to tell her goodbye, but when he cast another glance at Ian, no form of goodbye left his mouth.

  “I want to see the art, too,” he snarled. His tone in no way indicated that he wanted to do that. It was obvious he simply wanted to continue being Papa Bear to his daughter.

  Millie led them toward the local artist display—yes, a room she’d sworn to avoid. But this was Dara so she’d make an exception. She stopped though when Bella picked up an antique from a True or False display. “This is an Edwardian medical device for holding an anesthesia cloth in place over a patient’s mouth,” she read. “True or false?”

  Bella studied the claw-looking object. It had a wooden handle at the top with a spring level between it and the five metal prongs that jutted out like a robot crab from a really bad nightmare.

  “True,” Jace guessed, but the girls both went with false. Ian’s mumble was too indistinguishable for Millie to decipher.

  “False,” Bella read when she turned over the card. “It’s an antique apple picker.” She set it back down, looked around. “You have a lot of fun stuff in here.”

  Millie thanked her and took them into the room that she personally wouldn’t find fun. There were plenty of paintings and art to look at, of course, but her eyes went straight to the trio of Ella’s paintings. That’s where Dara went, too, so rather than focusing on Ella, she watched Dara and the sheer joy the girl got from showing off her mother’s artwork.

  Joe stayed back, watching them as well, and Millie went to stand by him, leaving the teenagers to their chatter.

  “You knew they were her paintings when you came here for a drink,” she muttered. It wasn’t a question.

  He nodded. “I didn’t know before that night, but I knew Ella called her studio La La Land so I made the connection. Plus, I recognized her work.”

  She thought back to that night, which seemed a lifetime ago. But she remembered the sudden change in Joe’s mood. Millie had thought it was because of his grief or because he was feeling guilty because he was attracted to her, but seeing the paintings must have given him a bad jolt.

  “I’m sorry,” they said in unison, and Millie’s quick laughter had Dara and the others glancing over at them. Millie gave them a friendly wave and waited until they turned back to the paintings.

  “Okay, I’m sorry because you had to find out from me that your wife had sold me paintings,” she continued. “That should have come from her. So, what are you apologizing for?”

  “You loved the paintings. You told me that. And now, there’s no way you can love them. That love got taken away from you through no fault of your own.”

  It sounded as if he was talking about more than art. Maybe their marriages? Joe and she were definitely in the same boat there. It’d been no fault of their own that their spouses had died.

  Well, probably no fault.

  Millie still had mixed feelings and some guilt over the fact she’d never been able to have an orgasm with Royce. Something Royce must have known. It could have played into some feelings of inadequacy—

  She stopped that thought in its tracks. She wasn’t going to take the fall for this. No. This was on Royce and Ella, right where the blame belonged. And damn it, Joe was right about her loving those paintings and now hating them. Except it wasn’t so much hate as it was a trio of pokes at the memories that she hadn’t been enough for Royce but this talented artist had been.

  Oh, well. Because she’d already seen them now, at least she could remove the scenes from the paintings off her bucket list. All the scenes but the drive-in, anyway. She’d coated over the painting memory with memories of her own. Good ones, too, with Joe and her.

  The kids finally finis
hed looking at the paintings and came back toward them. “Ian and Jace are going to walk with Bella to the salon, and then Bella’s mom will pick me up here. That way, I’ll have a chance to talk to Millie. About the research,” Dara added to her father.

  Joe’s groan was very low, but Millie still heard it. “I’ll wait outside,” he grumbled. “Get back to me on the other stuff,” he told Millie, making her blush a little. Because the other stuff involved sex and those three condoms.

  “We’ll talk tomorrow, Ian,” Dara called out to the boy.

  Ian grinned. Then, he promptly quit grinning when he saw Joe staring at him. Joe was right behind the teenagers when they left, and Dara didn’t say another word until the jangled bell indicated their exit.

  “Look,” Dara said, turning to her, “if seeing my mom’s paintings makes you sad or upset, you need to tell me. I’ll figure out another place to put the paintings so you won’t have to see them.”

  Millie was about to give a huge lying denial of being sad or upset, but the girl deserved the truth. “It is hard to look at them,” she admitted. “But your mom was a very talented artist, and unless someone opens a gallery, the paintings can stay here.”

  Dara stared at her as if trying to figure out if that was the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. She must have believed it was because she finally nodded. “Okay. But if they get to be too much for you, just let me know.”

  “I will,” Millie promised. She paused. “Do you have any idea why your mom didn’t tell your dad about selling me the paintings?”

  Dara shrugged. “Dad asked me that, too, and I told him that I thought she kept it to herself because she wanted it to be a surprise.”

  For the first time, Millie saw a crack in Dara’s usually sunshine personality. Her bottom lip quivered a little. “I don’t know why,” the girl said. “I don’t know why she did a lot of things, but I can’t believe she was running off to be with your husband. She loved my dad. And he really loved her.”

  Because Dara looked close to tears, Millie pulled her into a hug. “I know he did,” she murmured, and she left it at that.