“If that’s what it takes.” He stood.
“You really want to be here.” The thought momentarily baffled her.
“I don’t know how else I can show you. It won’t be easy to get rid of me.”
She barely resisted the urge to launch into his arms and forget everything, if he would be willing to do the same. “You’re right, we should talk.”
Outside, they were less likely to jump right into bed and resolve this problem at least for now. She took a seat on the top step of her balcony and he did the same.
He studied her. “You were crying. Baby, I never want to be the reason you cry.”
She leaned into his shoulder, relishing the contact. “I meant to tell you this the first night we were together. I’ve already been with someone who said all the right things, who did all the right things. There were no signs, or if there were, I didn’t see them. Too naïve to know what was happening right in front of me. Everyone else knew before I did. It’s a horrible feeling to be blindsided like that. Remember when you told me you’d been angry and bitter after your mother left? I was angry, too, for a long while. For a different reason.”
He went silent for a beat before he squeezed her tight. “You’re going to tell me why?”
“I’m going to tell you everything.”
In the next few minutes she told him about Martin. Not just his betrayal, bad enough, but that of so many of her so-called friends, leading her to conclude that no one had any real respect for her. She’d been the good girl, the nice girl, the friend, and apparently to them, a doormat. She ended by explaining that even though she’d always been careful, she’d been tested for diseases and received the all clear.
Lincoln quietly listened, simply holding her close. “Jesus, baby. I’m so sorry.”
“That’s okay. All in the past. But if he showed up here tomorrow, I’d probably…spit on him.”
Lincoln chuckled. “You’d have to beat me to it.”
“So, now you see why I want honesty above all else.” She pulled back, searching his eyes. “And when you didn’t even try to hide the fact that you snuck into my bed without permission and slept with me all night, I knew I could trust you to be honest. Even when it hurts. Oh, and also that time you said that I shouldn’t read anything into you helping me, because you’d do the same for anyone you’d accidentally hurt.”
He winced. “Obviously, things have changed.”
“You’re a good man. Maybe you’re not romantic, but you’re honest to a fault. I’ve been learning to trust myself again, and I’ll get there. Maybe I backslid a little tonight, because of Jolette Marie. But I trust my instincts. I’d trust you with my life.”
“You can. I will never hurt you.” He kissed her, a sweet and tender short kiss that wrapped around her heart in a sweet ache.
“And…Jolette Marie?” Sadie asked, knowing after today, they’d had something between them. “How long did you two date?”
She’d noticed the longing looks Jolette Marie threw Lincoln’s way. She’d expected to be able to go looking for Jimmy Ray with Lincoln. Sometimes Sadie didn’t like to hear the raw and honest truth, but she wanted to know anyway. No one would ever make a fool out of her again.
“I wouldn’t call it dating, and it’s over. We didn’t have a real relationship and that’s the way we both wanted it. I haven’t seen her in months, since before my last circuit. I’ve already talked to her. Whatever we had, and believe me, it was casual, it’s over now. She isn’t handling it well.”
“I want to be the only woman you’re sleeping with. I don’t like to share.”
“Neither do I, and even if I’ve never settled down, I’m a one woman at a time kind of guy.”
“The man I was with said the same thing to me. And so many of my so-called friends mistook my kindness for weakness.”
“And I hate that for you, but you’re going to need to trust me. I’m not him. I’m not that guy who says things just because a woman wants to hear them. Hell, I almost missed out on what we have because I told you the raw and honest truth. How would I know that you’d take me any way you could? I’m damned lucky.”
“I know you’re different. I told you, this is my problem.”
“Which makes it my problem.”
“Is it too much to want to be classy, cool, and sophisticated? When I’m all of those things, then maybe weird things like what happened tonight won’t bother me so much.” She shimmied her shoulders. “I’ll just shake it off.”
He grinned at the reference to her favorite singer and ran his hands up and down her spine. “Hell, no. Don’t you change. I want you to care. Don’t want you to be anyone other than who you are. You’re sweet, but you’re my kind of sweet. You’re trusting, and you’ve trusted the wrong people in the past. That’s not on you, baby. It’s on them.”
“But I hate my stupid insecurities.”
“Listen. I’d lay money that if we don’t work out, it will because of me. Something I did or didn’t do.”
An icicle slid down to her heart. “Like what?”
“Bring gum instead of flowers? Spend too much time on the ranch? Make you mad because I forgot an anniversary? I can think of a lot of reasons you might dump me. You’d better believe it won’t be because I cheat.” He stood and held out his hand. “Come here.”
Chapter 17
“Where are we going?”
Lincoln took Sadie’s hand and led her to the lake. “I should ask you. Show me that tree you like.”
“Right this way.”
He let her lead, wanting a distraction, and wanting to get them past this weird night. He’d give anything to change what happened tonight. But he’d been frozen in place when Jolette Marie pounced on him. She was drunk or wouldn’t have resorted to that sleazy tactic. She’d done it simply to unnerve Sadie, or maybe to piss him off.
This happened to be the one time in his life when he wanted a woman to trust him completely, and know she could.
He’d seen firsthand the way jealousy ruined relationships. He wondered if his mother would have stayed if Hank tried to appease her. As the oldest, he knew far more than he should have about his parents. He remembered late nights with yelling matches between Hank and Maggie Mae, including wild accusations from her:
You love her.
You still do.
I’m just your second choice because she wouldn’t have you.
And the worst one of all:
You married me because I got pregnant.
Unfortunately, he’d never once heard Hank deny any of this. Maybe he had, behind closed doors. Lincoln wouldn’t know. But if he’d calmed her fears, she wouldn’t have been so insecure that she’d an affair. She might not have left them. Somehow, she’d never believed she came first with Hank, or that he loved her enough.
The whole ordeal left Lincoln with bitter memories. He’d been inclined from the first of his interest in women to keep entanglements light and shallow. Never permanent. Because his mother’s brand of love was possessive and conditional. She’d tossed the word “love” around like it was a salad. Lincoln had made up his mind that when he told a woman he loved her he’d somehow have to be ready for the constant assurances that would follow. Ready for the feeling of a noose tightening around his neck daily. And he’d never reached that point.
With Sadie, it seemed different.
For one thing, he’d suddenly found himself on the other end. Wanting assurances that the doctor was out of the picture. Incredible. He’d hardly believed the words coming out of his own mouth when he’d said them.
She’d been betrayed not by just one person she trusted but by several, so no wonder Sadie doubted her own judgement. But everything he’d seen firsthand told him that there was nothing wrong with her intuition now.
Lincoln would be damned if he’d allow Jolette Marie, or the doctor, to get between him and Sadie. They’d reached a tree with knotted roots, and a canopy of branches almost touching the surface of the lake water.
/> “This is it.” Sadie stopped.
He pulled her into his arms, hands gliding down to rest on her behind. “You’re right. Kind of ghostly.”
“Scary. And no match for your stars.”
“Are you scared of this spooky tree? Tell me you’re scared, little girl. Your big bad man will protect you.”
“You’re funny.” She turned to him, and belly to belly, she stretched to thread her fingers through his hair.
He barely resisted groaning. Damn, those were magic fingers. “We didn’t get a chance to do something I’d planned for tonight.”
She quirked a brow and the expression made him laugh.
“Dance. We didn’t get a chance to dance.”
“Do you dance?”
“Not very well.”
“I bet that’s not true, cowboy. Something tells me you do everything quite well.”
“Baby, you flatter me, but I assure you that’s not true. I can’t sing, either.” With that, he lowered his head and began to slowly move with her in his arms, a Brad Paisley ballad in his head.
“With no music?” She smiled up at him. “See how talented you are?”
“It’s in my head.” He continued to move slowly, leading her, but were he being honest, simply enjoying the holding her part. No music required.
“Care to share?” He heard a hint of teasing in her tone.
“That’s my brother’s territory.” Even so, he began to hum, doing his best. Hopefully he wasn’t too terrible.
Once, Jackson told Lincoln that he could at least carry a tune. High praise indeed. But his humming must have been adequate because she stopped all the teasing, and laid her head on his chest, sighing.
“I love you, Lincoln.”
He loved hearing those words. She made him feel like he was the only man in the world ever to hear them. He tipped her chin to meet his eyes, hoping she could read them and know that even though he couldn’t quite get the words out yet, damn, he felt it in his heart. Something large and unyielding tugged at him.
“Tell me again.”
“I love you.”
She always gave the words to him again, because hers was the biggest heart of anyone he’d ever known.
“This is so much better than dancing at the Shady Grind. I have you all to myself in case I step on your foot,” she said, and a few minutes later, tilted her head. “Hey. I just realized that we didn’t eat any dinner.”
“We could fix that.”
“Yes. I’m finally going to cook you a big dinner.”
“There’s something I don’t hear every day. As if you’ve been waiting for the day to cook for me.” Raising her arm, he twirled her once. Look at that, she didn’t fall. “You don’t have to cook.”
“You’re going to love my cookin’. Fried chicken?” She waggled her eyebrows. “Or are you like Hank and want some beef?”
“Girl, you will never hear me say no to fried chicken.”
This is where he felt most at home. Comfortable. No drama. Light, breezy, carefree. And his job to keep it that way.
* * *
On the following Saturday, Sadie didn’t find a way to get out of helping the ladies of SORROW with the knit-a-thon they were hosting in Trinity Church’s basement. Considering the results would benefit her, it felt wrong not to participate, even if her knitting pace reminded her of a snail. She’d be lucky to complete one of these knit caps in two years at her rate. The ladies could bang them out in a couple of hours.
When she arrived, Lillian sat near the wide table filled with colorful yarn. She patted the empty chair closest to her.
“Anyone heard from Eve?” Sadie asked as she took a seat.
“She was over at the ranch this mornin’, but then headed out to a call. Ed’s mare is calving. She’ll be here when she’s done,” Lillian said.
“Lillian, congratulations are in order, I hear,” said Beulah, passing a skein of yarn. “Sounds like another young lady has chosen herself a Carver man.”
The ladies had obsessed with which man of Stone Ridge Sadie would choose to be her husband for years. It stopped while she lived away but the minute she’d come home the speculation didn’t stop. Neither had the blind dates, each one more ridiculous that the last.
“We’re getting to know each other.”
Lillian bit her lower lip, hardly able to squash a huge grin. “Yes, well, Sadie has great taste.”
Ada sniffed. “I thought my nephew was a wonderful choice. He would be for any young lady.”
“He’s a wonderful man, Ada,” Sadie said, taking her skein out and placing it on the table. “Thank you for introducin’ me. I think we’ll be great friends.”
“Great friends are not what I had in mind,” Ada said, looking at Sadie over lowered spectacles. “I still think you should consider him.”
“Well, I—” Sadie began.
“If this here thing doesn’t work out with Lincoln, I’m sure she will,” Beulah said, patting Ada’s hand.
That seemed to pacify Ada for now, never mind that if this “thing” didn’t work out with Lincoln, Sadie probably wouldn’t be good to anyone. She refused to agree, not wanting to jinx anything with Lincoln. Some women loved their many choices. Sadie did not. She’d wanted to settle down since she was about twelve and first laid eyes on Lincoln Carver.
“How’s your mom ’n ’em?” asked Maybelle, Beulah’s sister. “Why isn’t she here?”
Sadie struggled with her needles, as per the usual. She was all thumbs when it came to this sort of stuff. “She’s home doing some canning. It’s peach season.”
“Lawd, that woman and her jam.” Ada shook her head.
“It’s award-winning,” Lillian said. “She’s already made her contribution to the cause.”
Grateful for Lillian’s defense, Sadie didn’t add anything. Truth be told, her mother had executed a metamorphosis from the woman who’d raised her, knitting, baking, sewing, and for a short time even leading Sadie’s Girl Scout troop. She might be obsessed with her business now, but Sadie didn’t see any harm in that. If it made her happy and gave her life purpose, she couldn’t argue.
“Anyway, I’m sure she’s gettin’ ready for tonight. Lincoln and I are going over for dinner.”
Sadie wound the thread around her needle like she should, but when she tried the other needle, the knot slipped. She tried again. Everyone was already way ahead of her.
“See there, she has a perfect excuse. I’d be cleanin’ all day to impress my future son-in-law,” Lillian added and elbowed Sadie.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Lillian,” Maybelle said. “My boys are still single.”
And the way things looked to Sadie, they would remain that way. All three played video games twenty-four seven from their worn-in couch.
“I’m not sure Lincoln is all that ready to get married,” Sadie said, preoccupied with the knot that wouldn’t keep.
She should have realized her remark would stop conversation. Self-conscious, Sadie looked up from her knitting.
Ada stared at her, appearing dumbfounded. “Then what on earth are you doin’ with him?”
“I wouldn’t say that my Lincoln isn’t ready,” Lillian protested.
“Sadie, hon, your eggs have got to be gettin’ on in age,” Maybelle said. “There’s no time to waste.”
Again with the eggs!
“I’m twenty-eight! And we’re gettin’ to know each other.”
“Bah!” Beulah said. “You’ve known that boy all your life. What more do you need to find out about him?”
“Now.” Lillian put up a hand. “We all realize there’s a way that two young people get to know each other when they’re considering married life and how they fit together.”
“Lillian!” Rather than stunned silence, Beulah now gasped. “You don’t mean—”
Sadie squirmed and chose silence as her best recourse. She pretended to be fascinated with her knitting, when realistically, she’d created a tangle of yarn for Eve’
s kitten.
“Why, getting to know each other’s families better, sharin’ hobbies, cookin’ dinner, that kind of thing,” Lillian said. “What did you think I meant?”
“Good Lawd,” Beulah said, blushing and fanning herself. “Nobody but you can make me feel like I’ve got the dirty mind!”
With that, they all burst into laughter.
* * *
When Sadie and Lincoln pulled up to her family home later, Sadie judged the house in a new light. Even though he’d come to her home many times over the years, now Sadie noticed the dilapidated state of the ranch style home. The house could use painting, the blue siding chipped. Her father, the contractor, hadn’t updated his own home in years much to her mother’s irritation, who found it ironic. This never bothered Sadie because her father worked hard and shouldn’t have to come home after a long day to work on his own house. He put most of his home efforts into his vineyard.
“You okay?” Lincoln squeezed her hand. “I should be the nervous one.”
She’d never tell Lincoln that her mother’s obvious preference for Judson unnerved her. But Lincoln would win her over. Eventually.
“You’re not, are you? You’ve been over here so many times over the years with Beau and Wade.”
“Not like this.” He leaned over and kissed her tenderly.
“Maybe we should sit here and make out for a while. Just to get you more comfortable.” She squeezed his forearms, then tugged on the nape of his neck, bringing him closer where she could gaze into his baby blues.
“I like the sound of that.” His eyes shimmered with humor.
But a few minutes later, they were at the front door, holding hands. Lincoln carried a bottle of California wine for her father, knowing how to at least get on his good side.
Mom swung open the door, wearing her “Your opinion wasn’t in the recipe” apron. “Hello, there.”
“Hi, Mrs. Stephens,” Lincoln said, holding out his bottle of wine.
“Thank you. Mr. Stephens will be thrilled.” She waved them in, and Sadie led the way to the dining room. “We’re already sitting down to dinner.”
Lucky Cowboy Page 19
