a big step, taking on a child to raise.”
“I know it’s a big step.”
“And then there’s whoever the hell blew through town eleven years ago and fathered that boy. You talked to Lori Lee about him yet?”
Tucker was forced to confess, “No, I haven’t.”
“Maybe you better. Maybe it would be a good idea to talk with her about her dead husband and Brody’s father before you go popping any important questions.”
Tucker fully intended to do just that—eventually. “I don’t want to rush things.”
Tate threw back his big dark head and let his deep laugh roll out. “You’re marryin’ her, it’s a done deal—but you don’t want to rush things?”
Tucker shook his head and muttered, “I don’t know why I’m even talking to you about this.”
“Well, I do. You need a little feedback and you realize I’m the man to give it to you.”
“Is that what you call this? Feedback?”
“That’s right. And Lori Lee’ll be headed home to…where does she live, now?”
“San Antonio.”
“She’ll be headed back to San Antonio in, what…?”
“I don’t know. After the wedding, I guess. Unless I can get her to say yes before that.”
Slowly, Tate smiled. “Better get crackin’.”
Tucker grunted as he realized that Tate wasn’t completely averse to his plans, after all. “You SOB. You had me worried there.”
Tate gave him a level look. “I just want you to be sure you’ve thought this through.”
“I have.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“Why do you sound doubtful then?”
“Listen. You want to marry Lori Lee, I say more power to you. Long as she wants to marry you.”
“She will.”
Tate tipped his snifter at Tucker. “See. There, now. That could be your problem. Don’t get too cocky, you hear what I’m sayin’? A man gets too cocky and the first thing he knows, a woman feels it’s her duty to pull the damn rug right out from under him.”
“You’re talking about you and Molly, now. Not Lori and me.”
“I’m talking about all women. And all men. Women love a man who knows what he wants and goes about getting it. He just shouldn’t be too sure of himself. A woman needs a man who can be humble when he has to.”
Tucker stopped himself from rolling his eyes. “You’ve never been humble a day in your life, Tate.”
“Oh, yeah. I have. I’ve been on my knees and don’t you doubt it. It wasn’t easy. Specially not the first time. But a man can get used to crawling now and then. For the right woman.”
“I really don’t think that crawling will be necessary.”
Tate only shook his head and reached for the brandy bottle to pour them both another drink.
Saturday night, Lori’s mother served a rib roast so tender and juicy that when Heck carved it, the meat fell right off the bone. Heck said the blessing in his usual style: short and to the point.
They started passing the potatoes, the green beans and the gravy.
Heck turned to his grandson. “So, young man. You enjoyin’ your visit to Gramma and Paw-Paw’s?”
Brody gulped and nodded and got busy serving himself some whipped potatoes. He was cautious around Heck. Lori wasn’t sure if he’d picked that up from her, or if it was just a matter of Heck being a loud and boisterous man and Brody not spending enough time with him to get used to his ways.
“Can’t hear you when your mouth’s shut,” boomed Heck.
Lori plunked the bowl of green beans down without passing it. “We can sure hear you, Daddy. Since you shout most of the time.”
Heck stiffened. He sent one of those what-did-I-say? glances at Lori’s mother. Enid gave him back a sheepish look. Heck said, “Well, I am so sorry if I have offended you—again.”
Brody, who’d been watching the exchange with wide eyes, chose that moment to speak up. “We went to the lake. That was fun.”
Heck pasted on a great, big smile and beamed it at Brody. “Good, son. Glad to hear it.”
“And day before yesterday, we went to Tucker’s house. He lives on a ranch. I rode a horse named Little Amos. I swam in the pool and I played with Tucker’s dog—you know, the one I told you about. Fargo’s his name.”
Heck leaned toward Enid at the other end of the table and spoke to her as if the two of them were alone. “They went out to the Bravo place?”
Lori’s mother gave her husband a look of great patience. “Heck, honey, why don’t you ask Lori?”
“Yeah, Daddy. Why don’t you ask me? After all, I’m sitting right here.”
“Humph. Well. Ahem.” Heck turned his big head Lori’s way and asked with studied care, “Did you go out to the Bravo place, Lori—girl?”
She looked into his eyes, which were the same shade of blue as her own, and she knew he was trying, that he was doing his best to get along with her, to mend the fences he’d trampled so cruelly eleven years ago.
And she was way too hard on him, she realized that. He loved her. He’d only ever done the best he knew how for her.
It was just that every time she looked at him, she remembered him looming over her terrified pregnant seventeen-year-old self, spewing warnings. Shouting scary threats.
Who is he? By God, I will know. Who did this to you? You will tell me and I will fix him so he never does this to another innocent girl. Who is he? Lori, you tell me now. I will know who he is and I will track him down and if he’s a day over eighteen, his sorry butt is headed straight to jail…
She’d cowered under the ominous weight of her father’s threats, believing, as only a scared kid can believe, that if she told, her father would do exactly what he’d promised. He’d send Tucker to jail. She’d pictured that—Tucker on a chain gang because of her and her lies. Tucker, wearing those striped pajamas they wore in old prison movies; Tucker dirty and bloody and needing a shave, beating rocks with a pickaxe in the sweltering sun.
Lori still didn’t know which had hurt the worst: the threats and the yelling when she was so frightened already of what was going to happen to her—or that he had packed her off to San Antonio where he wouldn’t have to watch his unmarried little girl get big with a baby and embarrass him in front of the whole town.
But
