“Idiot,” Jacob replied under his breath, but before they’d gone ten feet, he shoved himself out of the chair and trailed after them into the shadows.
“Did you call your siblings names all the times?” Therese asked when they were barely visible in the dim light.
“Jerk, idiot, moron, stupid, pig, nerd, fish-face, shrimp.” Keegan glanced her way. “Didn’t you?”
“No. My brother and I always treated each other with great respect.” The quaver in her voice belied the claim before her laugh escaped. “He called me Grace because I was the clumsiest kid in school. And Worm because I read a lot. And Bowlegs just because.”
He let his gaze slide down to her legs, still stretched out. She wore jeans, faded and clinging snugly to slim thighs and nicely muscled calves. “Aw, you’re not bowlegged.”
She raised first one foot into the air, turning her leg to study it, then the other. “No, I’m not. Though with as much time as I spent on horseback…”
“You were a real cowgirl, huh.”
“If you’d called me that when I was fifteen, I would have roped you and left you tied to the nearest tree. I loved the ranch and wouldn’t trade the way I grew up for anything, but I always knew I wanted something different.”
How close did her life at this moment come to what she’d wanted?
Not close enough. He couldn’t shake the memory of that yearning in her voice earlier. I don’t know what I want.
He’d come to Tallgrass knowing exactly what he wanted.
Now, only five days later, he wasn’t so sure anymore himself.
* * *
After work Friday, Therese stopped at QuikTrip to fill up the gas tank, then followed the lure of the frozen cappuccino machine inside. She limited herself to a twelve-ounce kids’ cup, bypassed the machine that would squirt thick whipped cream on top, and was standing in line to pay when a wistful voice spoke behind her.
“Man, I miss caffeine.”
Her mouth automatically curving into a smile, she turned to face Ilena. “Hey, baby mama. What are you doing off work early?”
“I’m spending the weekend with Juan’s family, so I took off at noon. I meant to leave right after lunch, but Hector needed a nap, and who am I to stand in his way?” Smiling, she patted her belly.
“Aw, all Hector does all day long is sleep.”
“Yeah, and he practices kicks all night long. This boy’s gonna be a martial arts expert, like his daddy.”
Therese marveled that only the faintest hint of sorrow darkened Ilena’s eyes when she talked about Juan. She grieved for her husband; Therese had no doubt of that. But, more than any of them, she also celebrated him. She didn’t fixate on him like some women did, and she didn’t avoid mentioning him like others. He had been and always would be a huge part of her life, and while she may have wanted to crawl into the casket with him, she continued to live life, to move forward and embrace the future.
Maybe it was because of little Hector, who would be making his appearance in six or seven weeks, or because Juan’s very large family lived only ninety minutes away and loved Ilena, with her white-blond hair and blue eyes, as if she were theirs by birth and not merely marriage. Maybe it was just her nature.
Whatever, sometimes Therese envied her.
Thinking of her comments about Carly the night before, she smiled ruefully. It seemed she’d been doing a lot of envying lately.
“Since you plan to coach his baseball team, are you going to learn martial arts, too?”
Ilena went into a chop-chop karate pose and emitted a tiny grunt. “What do you think?”
“Fierce. I’m shaking.” Therese moved up to the counter, paid for her coffee, then hugged her. “Have fun with the family. And be safe.”
“Everyone always coddles me on these visits. I put my feet up, and they wait on me like I’m a princesa.” She grinned. “That’s what Mamá and Papá call me. Can you believe it?”
“We all need someone in our lives who thinks we’re princesses.” In a good way. Not the way Therese called Abby that.
She waved good-bye and was headed for the door when Ilena called, “Hey, the friend of Paul’s you were so cozy with Tuesday…have you seen him again?”
Therese’s face warmed, and she blamed it on the fan right above the double doors. “Uh, yeah, a time or two.”
“Good. When I’m ready to start dating again, I’ll need some pointers.”
“And a babysitter. You can count on me for both.”
Therese took a long appreciative drink of her coffee as she dodged cars across the parking lot. Tallgrass had plenty of traffic and bad drivers—all bad drivers eventually wound up in Oklahoma, Paul used to tease—but she deemed this lot a tough one. Small space, lots of customers, short tempers.
But she made it out, van and good mood intact, and headed home. Jacob was going to a Drillers game in Tulsa with his best friend, Liam, and his family, and Abby and Liam’s sister, Nicole, were sleeping over at Payton’s. An entire evening stretched out ahead, with no plans besides watching TV, maybe getting a jump on the weekend’s chores of vacuuming and laundry…and daydreaming about Keegan.
She’d had a lovely time last night. It hadn’t been a date, of course, or at least not a traditional one. People didn’t usually have their kids along on dates, and they usually got at least a good-night kiss, didn’t they?
She and Keegan had come close when he and Mariah left. She’d carried the girl, half-asleep and still wearing Abby’s shirt, to the door, and he’d leaned in close to take her. They’d been bumping arms and elbows, noses and heads, and in the middle of it, their gazes had locked for a long, long moment. She loved blue eyes, she’d thought, going a little dreamy even now with the memory. Her first real boyfriend had had eyes like Keegan’s—blue, clear, full of decency, honesty.
Close but no smooch. He hadn’t kissed her, and she hadn’t kissed him. She’d been married so long that she sometimes forgot that was an option. Instead, with Mariah all settled, he finally stepped back, and so had she. She opened the door for him, and he’d said See you, and she had repeated the words to him.
Tonight would be a good time.
When she pulled into the driveway, Jacob was loping across the yard, a backpack over his shoulder. He slowed near the van as she got out. “What time will you be home?”
He shrugged. “When the game’s over. I’m staying at Liam’s since it might be late.”
“Okay. Do you need some money?”
“Nope. I’m using Nicole’s ticket, and Mr. McRae always pays for food.”
A couple houses down the street, a car horn sounded, and he glanced that way. “Gotta go.” He took a few steps, then came back and looked at her, frowning. “It’s okay if I spend the night, isn’t it? I know I didn’t say anything sooner, but—”
She cleared her own expression. “No, it’s fine. Have fun.” Impulsively she laid her hand on his arm, squeezing. He didn’t flinch, pull away, or act as if she’d zapped a million volts into him.
As the horn honked again, he broke into a trot, calling over his shoulder, “We will.”
Therese’s fingers tingled, and her palm warmed. It was rare she could touch Jacob without him making clear he didn’t welcome it, and impossible to touch Abby. Just as well, since what she usually itched to do with Abby was thump a little courtesy and respect into her.
But she missed touching them. They’d never been overly affectionate, but at least when Paul was still with them, she’d been able to straighten clothing, comb hair, or hold hands without every muscle in the kids’ bodies going taut. Cuddling with Mariah was sweet. Giving Jacob or Abby a hug would be sweeter. Them hugging her back…
Might happen with Jacob. Never would with Abby, no matter how improved her behavior since Mariah came into her life.
The front door was unlocked, so Therese slid her keys into her bag as she went inside. The television was on in the living room, but Abby’s voice came from the kitchen. Therese was surprised to find
her home. Abby had taken a bag with her to school, intending to catch a ride to Payton’s with Nicole’s mother.
“Abby?” she said as she walked into the kitchen. “Change of plans?”
Pacing the length of the kitchen, Abby turned to look at her. “Hold on,” she muttered into her cell. “I need a ride to Payton’s.”
“Okay. You have her address?”
She spoke to the person on the phone, stopped at the island, and scribbled on the shopping list before ripping the page free. “I’ll be there soon.”
“I thought you were getting a ride from Mrs. McRae.”
“Yeah, I did, too, but something came up. She said Nicole could ride with Payton’s sister, and you said I can’t so I took the bus home. I’ve been waiting for you.”
Therese didn’t know what to say. Abby had not only listened to her but actually obeyed her. She could have so easily climbed into Payton’s sister’s car, and since Therese rarely indulged in more than a chat with Nicole’s mom, she likely would have never known.
But Abby had come home. Had missed out on time with her best friends. Had followed the rules even though it put a crimp in her plans.
“Thank you,” she said at last. “I appreciate it. Are you ready now?”
In answer, Abby slung her bag over her shoulder, tucked the phone in her pocket, and headed for the door.
The address she’d scrawled was on the southeast side of town. Unlike their own neighborhood of nice old homes on oversized lots, this one was filled with mini-mansions, each set on its own acreage. The homes were grand, spacious, and all bore a similar stamp: same architect, same builder, same materials. Not one of them showed any personality, though Therese imagined the homeowners’ association would put them firmly in their place if they tried.
“Payton has a swimming pool,” Abby commented as she looked for the number. “And Aubrey—that’s her sister—got a brand-new Mustang for her birthday. Payton said she’s getting a Challenger when she turns sixteen, or maybe a Camaro.”
Inwardly Therese shuddered at the idea of a brand-new driver with a brand-new vehicle of any model, but on the outside, she just smiled. “Cutting people open must pay a lot better than teaching.”
“Just about anything pays better than teaching.” Abruptly Abby pointed. “There it is. The yellow Mustang out front.”
Therese slowed and turned into the driveway that wound past a lawn big enough for a nine-hole golf course and a fountain with a massive stone piece rising out of the center. Art, she supposed, though it looked exactly like the big chunks of rock a person could find all over this part of Oklahoma.
“Wow.” She gave voice to what Abby was clearly thinking. “So this is the home Payton’s so desperate to leave for St. Louis.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s lovely.” In a massive brick-and-stone sort of way.
She expected envious agreement from Abby, but after gazing at the house a moment, her stepdaughter said, “Yeah. Can you imagine having to clean it?”
Abby got out of the van, swung her bag over her shoulder, then glanced back. “Nicole’s mom is supposed to pick us up, but…if she bails…”
“Call me.”
With a nod, Abby headed toward the house. The double doors swung open as she approached, and Nicole and Payton grabbed her, dragging her inside with squeals of welcome. In the moment before the doors closed, Therese caught a glimpse of marble flooring, a chandelier, a grand staircase. Some part of her was impressed, as she was meant to be, but she was happy to return to her own cozier house.
It didn’t take long to travel from the land of the rich back to middle-class-comfortable. She was driving past the park, her windows down to enjoy the warm afternoon, when shrieks of delight drew her gaze to a head of blond curls. Mariah was hugging the center post of the old-fashioned merry-go-round as Keegan spun it in circles.
Her heart warmed at the sight and the sound. Last night the girl had given her father fewer wary looks than before, but there’d been little ease between them. For at least this moment, she’d put that aside to be nothing more than a little girl enjoying playtime with Daddy.
Therese drove to her house, parked in the driveway, then hesitated on the porch. She could go inside, though there was nothing calling her: no homework to push, no dinner to fix for the kids.
Or she could walk back to the park. She’d done it two hundred times since moving into the house. She didn’t think she’d be intruding. There were other parks in Tallgrass; Keegan had found City Park on Mariah’s first full day in town, with its much more elaborate playground, just a few blocks from his motel. If he’d wanted private time, he would have taken her there instead of to the park a half block from Therese’s house.
“You’re so easy to persuade,” she murmured as she left her purse on the kitchen counter. She stuck her cell phone in her pocket, hesitated, then went upstairs, pulled her hair back, and changed clothes. At least she wasn’t needy enough to freshen her makeup or spray on perfume.
Or was she just too school-girl anxious to get to the park before Keegan left?
* * *
Keegan gave the merry-go-round one last push and watched its wood planks, each painted a different shade, spin in a kaleidoscope before it slowly came to a stop.
Mariah let go of the rail, tottered a step or two, then jumped to the ground. “Now I swing.” She ignored the kids’ swings, though, with their yellow plastic safety seats, and headed for the swings of his youth: flexible seats, heavy-duty chains, long legs anchored in concrete. The kind she could fly into the sky on…and crash right back to the ground.
“How about this one?” he called, gesturing toward the smaller version.
She didn’t even look. “No. No no no. I want this one.”
“Do you get the feeling you’re going to be hearing, ‘No no no, I want this one’ the rest of your life? About school, clothes, boys, cars, jobs…”
Keegan turned to Therese, and automatically he smiled. He couldn’t have stopped it if he’d wanted to. She was dressed more casually than he’d seen her: faded denim shorts that revealed a lot of leg, a T-shirt that clung to every curve, flip-flops that showed bright pink toenails and a silver ring curled around her second toe. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she looked…relaxed. Pleased.
“Hey, you.”
She fell in step with him as he headed toward the swing set where Mariah was trying to climb, belly first, onto a webbed seat. “It’s a beautiful day for playing in the park.”
“And yet we’re the only ones here. Where do you hide your kids?”
She gave the surrounding blocks a cursory look. “The little ones are at day care, the older ones watching TV or on their computers. Pretty much all the parents I know work. There will be kids here tomorrow. They play soccer and baseball”—she motioned to the big grassy area in the middle—“and the mothers will walk and talk while the dads watch the kids.”
“You bring yours here?”
A look flashed through her eyes, making him remember their first dinner, when she’d said she didn’t call them stepkids or claim them as her own. But she didn’t remind him. “We used to come at least a couple times a week. Abby sat with her friends, Paul taught Jacob to throw and catch a baseball, and I walked with my friends. We always finished on the swings. The Matheson family were good swingers.”
As she finished, she called Mariah’s name and crouched as the girl spun, grinned, and ran to her. They hugged tightly, then Mariah stepped back and looked around. “Where’s Abby?”
“She’s spending the night with a friend.”
“Where’s Jacob?”
“He’s staying with a friend, too.”
Mariah’s disappointment showed on her face. Keegan wondered if his pleasure showed on his. No kids around tonight but Mariah, and with luck, she would be asleep before nine. He and Therese could be alone, for all practical purposes.
Assuming she didn’t have other plans, didn’t want to just luxuriate in the
peace of an empty house, wasn’t tired of other people’s kids filling her life, wasn’t tired of him.
“Will you swing with me?” Mariah asked.
Therese straightened again and took her hand. “Sure. You want me to push you or do you want to sit on my lap?”
“Sit on your lap.”
Kicking off her shoes, Therese walked across the spongy ground covering to sit on the middle swing. Mariah kicked off her own sandals and followed, holding her arms up for a boost.
Therese turned Mariah to face her, little legs wrapped around her waist, and linked her arms outside the chains to provide extra protection, then she pushed back until she was standing, kicked, and stretched out her legs for the glide forward.
Sitting in the swing beside them, Keegan twisted the chain until he faced them. For a while he was mesmerized by the sight of Therese’s legs, muscles flexing as she pushed off, stretching straight out, lengthening as she strove for the highest bit of air she could reach, then pumping. The skin was tanned and smooth but for a scar on this calf, a bruise on that ankle, and he wondered how those muscles would feel stretching and tightening against him.
He was following that thought in his head, out of the park, and into her bedroom, imagining his hands exploring those legs, stroking from her slender ankles over her calves, tickling the backs of her knees, reaching her thighs and the barrier of her clothing and going still farther, discovering—
“Kee—you—Celly’s boy!” On Therese’s lap, Mariah looked torn between pleasure and frustration.
A knot formed in his gut at the realization that this child who was living with him, who was in his care for the foreseeable future, had no name to call him.
Satisfied she had his attention, she laid her cheek against Therese’s and beamed. “Look at us. We’re flying.”
But Therese had stopped pushing and pumping, and they were gradually coming to a stop, the swing twisting side to side before she planted her feet. Mariah frowned. “I want to fly more.”
“Over here.” Therese carried her to the end of the set, next to the steel poles, and deposited her in a kiddy seat, warned her to hold on, pulled her back, and let go.
A Man to Hold on to (A Tallgrass Novel) Page 18