and he was crazy in love with his wife, Olivia, as she was with him. “When you have some time, I really need to talk to you.”
Barley stood. “Good. I’m going to Baked Valentines to get a box of cookies, Sheriff. Me and you are going to go hit some skeets and snack on some chocolate chips.”
When her father had fallen ill with liver disease, Mimi had spent a hellish year thinking she was going to lose him. But he’d recovered miraculously, thanks in part to the scrawny rodeo clown who spent so much time dragging the sheriff to social events. But skeets weren’t a social occasion that required chocolate chip cookies, since skeets weren’t real birds.
“I don’t remember skeets liking cookies from Baked Valentines,” she said.
Barley laughed and waved goodbye. “Be back in a bit.”
“He’s crazy,” her father said happily. “He’s determined to fix me up with Widow Fancy, so we’re going over there tonight.”
Mimi blinked. “Widow Fancy? I had no idea you—”
“No. Now don’t you get started on that.” The sheriff chuckled. “Barley’s just stirring things up. I’m fine the way things are. I’ve got you and my granddaughter, and that’s all I need.” He walked into the kitchen, taking out a big pot. “But I am going to make some soup to freeze for winter. Widow Fancy gave me a recipe.” He grinned. “Think I can make the base for tortilla soup?”
“Yes,” Mimi said, amazed that her father was apparently taking up cooking lessons from the widow.
“Now, what’s on your mind? Tell me while you chop some poblanos for me. Got them fresh the other day, and they are hot!” He looked around. “Nanette gone to Mason’s? Or Olivia’s?”
Mimi told the tears rimming the sides of her eyes to go away, and when they wouldn’t, she wiped them.
“Hay fever?” her dad asked.
“I told Mason the truth,” Mimi said.
The sheriff stopped, turning to give her his full attention. “The truth?”
“About Nanette.”
Her father frowned. “What truth?”
Mimi sank into a chair, her legs no longer holding her. “Dad, I’ve made a big, really awful mess.”
He sat across from her, his face etched with concern. “There’s nothing that can’t be fixed.”
“This cannot be fixed.” She took a deep breath, gazing toward the ceiling for a few moments. “No one knows this except Bandera and Holly. And Brian. I mean, of course Brian always knew. Bandera…I don’t know why I told him. The guilt was beginning to eat at me. Or maybe it wasn’t guilt. Conscience. Was I right, or wrong?”
“Honey, you’re not making any sense.”
“Dad,” Mimi said, desperate to sort her emotions, “Mason is Nanette’s father. Not Brian.”
Her father blinked. “Mason?”
“Yes,” Mimi said, feeling shame and embarrassment sweep over her. “Oh, God.”
“And Brian knows.”
“Yes.”
“That’s why the two of you didn’t stay married.”
“Well,” Mimi said miserably, “we never planned to stay together. I got married so that you would know I was happy in my life. I thought you were going to die, and I wanted you to see me settled with a good man and security.” She breathed deeply, though it never felt as though her lungs fully expanded. “I wanted you to have a grandchild before you passed away. We just wanted you to be happy. Both of us did.” She wiped errant tears away.
“So you two were never…husband and wife.”
“No.”
“It was never a true marriage, but somehow there is Nanette.”
“The night before,” Mimi whispered.
“Yegods,” her father said. “Mimi, I do not want to know one more thing than what you just told me.” He leaned back in the chair, staring at her. “Damn it, I do! Mimi, if you and Mason were together the night before your wedding, why didn’t you just…call the whole damn thing off?”
“I couldn’t!” Mimi jumped to her feet. “What would it have changed, Dad? Mason wasn’t going to walk with me down the aisle! I could have spent the rest of my life loving him, and it wouldn’t have made a bit of difference. And at that point, I had you to think about! How many years did you think of me first before yourself, Dad, after Mom left?” She shook her head, her tears too great to keep back. “I was determined that you leave the earth knowing I was happy if it was the last thing I did. And I did it.”
“Yes, you did.” Her father rubbed at his chin. “And that baby brought me right back, I’ll admit. Brought out the fighting spirit in me. But, Mimi,” he said, his tone still surprised, “what does Mason say now?”
“Mason is a miserable mule.” Mimi tore at her eyes with a piece of tissue, swiping away the water but not the pain. That would never go away. “He took Nanette.”
A frown crossed her father’s face. “Took her?”
“To live with him. For good.” Mimi sat again, feeling faint. “He said that a child needed its father.”
“And its mother, when matters work out best,” her father said.
“I don’t feel any differently than he does,” Mimi said, recognizing a trace of bitterness in her own voice. “I know the pain of abandonment. I would never allow Nanette to grow up without her mother.”
“I’m sure Mason isn’t thinking clearly right now,” he said, “but you two need to talk.”
Mimi shook her head. “He’s not in the mood to talk to me.”
“I don’t care about moods. I care about Nanette.” Her father patted her hand. “She’s blessed, you know. She has two parents to love and care about her, even if they neither one think straight all the time. Surely it’s not as bleak as it seems, honey.”
“It feels horrible.”
“Mason wasn’t walking out on you,” her father said. “It’s really all about his child.”
“What does that mean?” Mimi asked. “I should stop loving Mason? Or be glad that he’s so stubborn about being with Nanette?”
“Maybe yes, maybe no. But you’ve got two different emotional paths warring inside you, Mimi, and that’s no way to help yourself. Or Nanette. Decide if you want to fight for your daughter, or fight for Mason. Because right now your heart is breaking two ways.” He rubbed her cheek and touched her hair. “I’m sorry I made you feel that you had to take care of me.”
“Oh, Dad,” Mimi said, taking his hand in hers to rest against her cheek. “I’m never going
