The Hog-Tied Groom (The Brides of Grazer's Corners #3)

by Charlotte Maclay

  Amazingly she’d survived; in some ways, she’d even thrived. Garrett admired her for that. In fact, he loved Charity for her capacity to go on in spite of everything life dumped in her lap.

  He wasn’t sure, given the same challenges, if he could have done as well.

  He hated to think how she’d react to learning her brother had instigated a blackmail scheme that forced Charity to live with the secret of Donnie’s paternity. However large her capacity for love, she was bound to feel betrayed by what Bud had done.

  The intercom buzzed, and Douglas jammed his finger on the button. “Marge, I want you to hold—”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, sir, but I thought you and Garrett would both want to know,” his secretary said as smoothly as though her boss hadn’t yelled at her. “Coach Riddler had a heart attack last night. He’s in Community Hospital now. His condition is considered ‘stable but guarded.’”

  Garrett expelled a long breath and plowed his fingers through his hair. “Coach didn’t look good when I saw him the other day,” he said when his father turned back to him. “I should have guessed something was wrong.”

  “He’s a good man. He’ll pull through.”

  A whole generation of men, men who had influenced Garrett’s life for good or bad, were aging fast. His father included, he now recognized, noting the deep grooves across Douglas’s forehead and the tiredness in his pale eyes. When had his father gotten old? he wondered. Perhaps it had started when he was forced to marry a woman he didn’t love.

  And his mother had grown old, too, long before she had died, bitter with very little love to give her son.

  What a tragedy. A trap Charity never would have slipped into.

  Crossing the room, Garrett placed a hand on his father’s shoulder. He might not ever get over his father making decisions about his life that should have been rightfully his own. But he also wasn’t eager to break the tie to the man who had raised him.

  “You’ll like Donnie,” he said quietly. “He’s a terrific little kid. He can dribble a soccer ball like he was born to it and can beat the socks off of me at checkers. I hope some day you’ll take the time to get to know him.”

  His father didn’t respond. Garrett hadn’t expected him to. The best he could hope was that Douglas Keeley would come around to his way of thinking later. If not, it was Douglas who would miss out...and Donnie, his grandson.

  Soon Garrett would have to face Charity and tell her about Bud’s involvement in this whole blackmail scheme. He didn’t think telling her would be easy. But there’d already been too many secrets in Grazer’s Comers.

  He was determined to start fresh.

  But where, he wasn’t quite sure.

  It was going to take a while to sort out his feelings and consider all of his options. This time he wanted to make damn sure he was doing the right thing—for everyone concerned.

  Chapter Fourteen

  It was like waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  Three days since Garrett had learned he was Donnie’s father. Except for a brief phone call from Garrett to Donnie, it had been three days of silence.

  Charity ground her teeth. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. What in heaven’s name was he thinking? What was he doing?

  With a sigh of frustration, she refilled the feeding bins for the afternoon and bent down to pet Esmeralda. The sow’s abdomen was so swollen with babies it had to hurt, and her breathing rate had begun to pick up. A new litter of pigs would be here soon, to tend and raise, earning the Arden farm a few dollars more than the cost of feed and supplies. A profit.

  When Bud and Hailey moved out, she’d have to thin the herd. There was simply too much work for one person to handle. Then there’d be no profit at all.

  Rambo trotted into the farrowing pen, nudging Charity’s shoulder. Wheenk, he muttered impatiently.

  “These things take time, Rambo. Esmeralda is doing all the work. The least you could do is be encouraging.”

  His ears perked up, and she gave him an affectionate scratch in his favorite spot. Maybe fathers had a right to be anxious, too.

  Where was Garrett? Had he decided being a father didn’t suit him after all?

  Had he decided she didn’t suit him, either?

  The tears that had been threatening for three days crowded in her throat, but she refused to give in to them. Nor would her pride allow her to make a call herself. Garrett knew where to find her.

  Coming to her feet with a determined shove, she hefted the wheelbarrow. She would not wallow in self-pity. Garrett had his own life to lead. So did she.

  The fact that she loved him, and always had, didn’t change that one whit.

  At the sound of Bud’s truck on the driveway, Rambo ambled in that direction, no doubt eager to let the other man in the family know he was about to be a father. Again.

  “How’s Esmeralda?” Bud asked when he reached the pig parlor. He was wearing his blue mechanic’s overalls, the thighs and pockets streaked with stains that no amount of laundering could remove.

  “Ask Rambo. He’s been checking on her hourly.”

  Bud’s experienced gaze swept over Esmeralda in an unconcerned way. “Guess you heard about Garrett.”

  Her heart seized, missing a full beat before starting up again. “Has something happened to him?”

  “He got picked up by the Orlando team. Their quarterback went down with an injury, and they made Garrett an offer. From what I hear, he took the next plane out.”

  For a moment, the world spun dizzily. Her stomach repeated the motion, and her hand covered her mouth.

  Florida. Had he called Donnie from there? Three thousand miles from Grazer’s Comers.

  “I’m sorry, sis. I thought you’d want to know.”

  She nodded mutely. Of course she wanted to know. Garrett should have been the one to tell her. Obviously he hadn’t thought about that. Not that it would have changed anything.

  Garrett was gone.

  Her knees turned all rubbery, and she sank onto the low wall of a juvenile pen. The newly weaned shoats came running, eager for a handout or a pet behind the ears. Charity gave them neither. Suddenly all of her strength, along with the hopes she’d secretly harbored, vanished.

  “Sis, are you all right?”

  “It’s what he wanted. A new team.” Her voice was flat, her mouth desert dry.

  Awkwardly Bud tried to console her with a pat on her back. What she wanted was to be in Garrett’s arms. But that wasn’t going to happen. Ever.

  “You want me to finish up here?” he asked.

  “I have to pick up Donnie from Shaun’s house pretty soon.” Her son. Hers alone.

  He reached for the shovel just as Rambo snorted at a new car in the driveway.

  Shading her eyes with her hand, Charity watched a flashy red sports car pull to a stop behind Bud’s battered panel truck, all the more incongruous because it was Garrett’s car. He was supposed to be in Florida.

  She stood. With an iron grip, she kept her emotions in check. He’d come to tell her goodbye; she was sure of it. She appreciated his gesture. Would wish him well. And then it would be over. In time, the pain would stop.

  He had the swagger of a champion, that confident stride that said Don’t mess with me. Dressed in an expensive sport shirt and slacks, he didn’t fit in here at the farm any better than his car did. Nor did she and her son fit into his world.

  “Thought you were in Orlando,” Bud commented.

  “I was.”

  “Yeah, well...” Bud lifted the wheelbarrow. “I’ll leave you two alone—”

  “No, what I have to tell Charity involves you, Bud. Stick around.” His wasn’t a pleasant request but an order.

  Charity’s gaze darted between the two men. She read simmering anger in Garrett’s eyes, confusion in Bud’s. “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “You want to tell her about your blackmail scheme, Bud? Or shall I?”

  Bud’s tanned cheeks deepened a shade. “I’ve nev
er blackmailed anybody in my life, and you damn well know it.”

  “Wait just one minute,” Charity protested.

  Garrett ignored her. “How long have you known I was Donnie’s father? Tell her that, Bud.”

  She gasped. “You knew? All this time—”

  “I guessed, sis. I was at the picnic that night at the lake. I saw you go off with him. Maybe I should have stopped you, but I didn’t think—”

  “Besides, you were hitting on Hailey,” Garrett reminded him. “Pretty distracting, wasn’t she?”

  “Look, you two. What’s past is over and done with.”

  “It isn’t done with because Bud went to my father after you saw him and threatened to land me in jail.”

  “I never did any such thing. Your old man got in a stew. I wasn’t about to cry rape. Dammit, I knew Charity was mooning over you. She was in love with you even then, you sucker. But you were too busy chasing anything that wore skirts to give her the time of day. Or to take responsibility for—”

  “For what I didn’t know about? How could I? If you were such a damn good brother, why didn’t you come to me? I would have taken care of Charity.”

  The two of them were practically nose to nose, and Charity stepped between them. “Don’t you two big macho males dare leave me out of the conversation. This is about me. And my son—”

  “Our son,” Garrett corrected.

  She shot him a withering glance, then turned to her brother. “I want to know exactly what happened with Mr. Keeley, Bud. Exactly what you told him. And I want to know right now.”

  “Charity, it’s been a long time....”

  “Now, Bud.”

  He shrugged and jammed his hands in his overall pockets. “We were in such trouble, with the farm and Gramps so sick. I couldn’t see any way out. And hell, Garrett was a college jock. What kind of help could he be? But his old man—”

  “You actually asked Mr. Keeley for money? For me?”

  “For you and the baby. I figured a few hundred bucks a month would at least help out till I got a raise or two.”

  “Dad said you blackmailed him into hiring you.”

  “That’s a lie. I’d already talked to the foreman and Harry Baumgarten. The paperwork had already been signed for me to start as a mechanic’s helper when the school quarter ended.”

  “Did my dad know that?”

  “Hell, I don’t know.”

  “But the money, Bud. The loan to pay off the remodeling expenses. Did you ask Mr. Keeley for that?”

  “Not exactly. When I mentioned you were only seventeen, he got his shorts all in a knot and went off the deep end. He jumped to the conclusion I was going to turn Garrett in but I never would have done that. I swear I wouldn’t. He was so ticked off, he threw me out of the office. Later, when you came up with the money, I figured he’d developed a conscience so I let it slide.”

  Let it slide? Charity’s stomach churned. So many misunderstandings. So many secrets. Bud had had no idea what she’d had to sacrifice to earn that money. He hadn’t seen the agreement she’d signed, hadn’t been aware of the vow she’d made to never reveal the truth. He’d only known about the money. And had been relieved.

  She looked up at Garrett, into his familiar eyes, specks of gold glinting in the sunlight, and she was afraid to guess what she was reading there. “I never would have signed a complaint or testified against you. What we did, I wanted as much as you did.”

  He ran his fingertips along her hairline, dipping them slightly at her widow’s peak. “I know that, cinnamon girl,” he said softly. “But Dad didn’t.”

  She tried twice before she could swallow the lump in her throat. “Is he going to call in the note?”

  “It’s been taken care of.”

  Her eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

  From his hip pocket, he produced several folded sheets of paper she instantly recognized as the note she’d urged her grandmother to sign so long ago and her own promissory note for something far more valuable than money. “You can bum these or feed them to the pigs. You don’t owe Dad a dime.”

  “You paid off the loan?”. she asked, though she had little doubt that was exactly what he had done.

  He glanced at Bud. “I might have been a broke college kid when I got Charity pregnant, but I’m not now.”

  “I’ve saved up some money,” she said quickly. “I was going to start making payments. I can pay you back. It might take a little time.” Just another twenty years or so.

  “There’s no need, Charity. I owe you that much and more.”

  “Look, guys, you don’t need me here,” Bud said.

  Turning to her brother, Charity said, “All those years you knew it was Garrett, but you never once let on to me. Why?”

  “I figured if you wanted me to know you’d tell me. I was trying to respect your privacy, sis.”

  Should she thank him for that? At this point, she didn’t know. Eight years ago, he’d been as scared and unsure of himself as she had been. She understood he’d tried to help the family, not betray her.

  “If you knew about Garrett, why on earth did you kidnap him, bring him here and shackle us together? Didn’t it occur to you that the situation would be more than awkward?”

  “Well, I had to take him someplace.” With the toe of his work boot, he rearranged the pebbles on the walkway. “Hell, I’d stolen his bride right out from under his nose, hadn’t I? I thought you and he’d, you know, that you would—”

  “That I’d be the perfect consolation prize? You were matchmaking?” She nearly screamed the accusation. “Is that what you’re saying?”

  “Naw, sis, that’s not what I—”

  Mortified by what Bud had done, and how she had quickly and easily fallen into the trap, Charity began shaking uncontrollably. She hugged herself, but her teeth started chattering, in spite of the warmth of the summer day. Inside she was cold. So very cold and alone.

  She didn’t know whom to turn to. Bud had, at the very least, deceived her; Garrett had turned his back on her, flying off to Florida without a word of explanation virtually the moment she’d told him the truth about Donnie. Paying off the mortgage might be no more than a grand gesture motivated by guilt.

  “Now you can give us some time together, Bud,” Garrett ordered, his voice low and taut.

  Bud shot him a look, started to say something; then thought better of it. He turned, picked up the wheelbarrow and headed for the barn.

  Garrett tried to draw Charity to him, to console her, just to hold her, to try to tell her how he felt, but she shrugged away from him.

  “So, I understand congratulations are in order,” she said with what sounded like forced brightness. The stubborn tilt of her chin, combined with her quavery voice, told him she was fighting for control. She had more guts than a wide receiver who went up for a ball knowing damn well he was going to get creamed whether or not he made the catch.

  “How’s that?” he asked cautiously.

  “Orlando made you an offer, right?”

  For a soccer mom, she seemed to know a lot about football. “I went down to talk with the coaches. That’s where I’ve been for the last couple of days, doing red-eye flights. We’re still negotiating.”

  “They’ll put enough money on the table, I’m sure. It’s your big chance. What you wanted.”

  “It’s a long way from California.”

  “Give the man an A for geography.”

  Her uncharacteristic sarcasm gave him a jolt. She was hurting, he realized. Betrayed by her brother, deserted by him—as unknowing as he’d been. The woman had a right to a world of pain. She’d damn well earned it.

  “Given training schedules and the regular season, going with Orlando would mean I’d only be in California three or four months a year.”

  She reached behind her neck to pull her long braid to the front of her shoulder, a gesture he’d observed many times. Mostly when she was nervous. And what he really wanted to do was loosen that hair, run his fin
gers through the strands and make love to her as he never had before.

  “If you still want to develop a relationship with Donnie,” she said, “I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you whenever you’re in town.”

  Garrett wanted more than to get to know his son. He wanted...

  Hell, he’d been to Florida and back again, and he still didn’t know what to do. He wished to God Charity would help him out a little here. A man who’d blown one marriage only weeks ago couldn’t exactly trust his judgment now.

  “So when do you think we ought to tell Donnie?” he asked.

  Her gaze darted away from him, first to the weeping willow tree with branches that brushed against the house and then to the pig parlor. “He’s not home now. He’s at Shaun’s.”

  “You want to pick a time?”

  “I need a chance to talk to him first.”

  “Okay. Will you call me?”

  Nodding, she pursed her lips.

  He could stand up to a nine-man rush and stay in the pocket long enough to get off a pass so accurate it would go through a bull’s-eye a foot across. But he didn’t know how to deal with Charity’s calm, cool demeanor. He wanted her hot in his arms, in his bed. That was definitely not the message that was coming across.

  Never in his life had he felt so vulnerable. So unguarded. He was about to make a huge decision that would affect his whole future. Yet he couldn’t seem to focus. His thoughts were all tangled up with Charity...and their son.

  Hell, he was a quarterback. He was supposed to call the plays. Instead, he felt like a bumbling water boy.

  “Okay,” he said finally. “I’m going to go see if they’ll let me in to visit Coach Riddler now. Call me later.”

  She jerked a nod, then turned to walk away. Her back was ramrod straight, her hips barely swaying, her feet clopping along in big black boots. She was the most sensual, earthy woman he’d ever known in his life.

  And he wanted her.