by Beverly Rae
She forgot about the busybodies, her heart skipping a beat. How many times had she thought about the moment when she’d see her father? Her memories of him were vague—a playful pull on her ponytail, a sharp word when he was “sick” after a long night of “working”—but they’d sustained her for many years. Now that she was about to meet him again, she wasn’t sure she wanted reality to take away the few good memories she had of him. She slowed down, then came to a stop.
“Mandy, are you okay?”
His hazel eyes darkened, somehow adding points of amber to the green and brown mix. “Uh-huh.”
He dropped the suitcase and took her hands. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Was she? Yet if not now, when? She nodded, her words blocked by the sudden lump in her throat.
“Then you should prepare yourself.”
She searched him, wanting to find the answer to her unspoken question. Was her father really that bad?
“He hasn’t maintained the home. Truth is, it’s more of a dump than a house.”
She could handle a run-down home. But her father? Could she handle whatever her father was?
“Listen. Would you like to take a day or so and give this more thought?”
His suggestion startled her. “No. I’ve come too far and waited too long.” She let go of his hands, sucked in a ragged breath, then took a step forward, ready for whatever would come.
Jimmy moved with her, taking her by the arm. Again, the electricity flowed from him into her skin.
“Okay, but before you do…” He leaned forward, catching her off guard and sending her already frayed nerves into overtime. “Would you like to go out tonight? Grab a little dinner? I could borrow a friend’s car and take you to the movies? It’s about an hour’s drive, but worth—”
“No.” She hadn’t meant for her refusal to come out so harsh, but she couldn’t take it back now.
He jerked backward as though she’d struck him. “Oh.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sure you’re a nice guy and all, but I can’t.”
She hated to see the way his face dropped, hated not accepting his offer. But what would Decker say? Would she want him going out with other women?
I don’t think I’d mind. Wow.
Her response surprised her. She wouldn’t mind if Decker didn’t stay exclusive to her.
“Can I ask why?”
He was persistent, bordering on pushy. “Ask away, if you want. I don’t, however, owe you an explanation.”
Damn. If it wasn’t for Decker, she’d say yes in a flash.
“You’re right. You don’t.” He touched her cheek, his gaze lingering on her lips. “But I’d still like to know.” His face clouded, sadness enveloping him. “Please tell me you aren’t involved with anyone.”
His gaze dropped to her left hand, his body stiffening then relaxing. She wanted nothing more than to press her lips to his, hold her body against his, and wrap her legs around his waist. “Sorry. But yes. I am.”
He lifted her left hand and rubbed his thumb over her ringless fourth finger. Turning her hand over, he placed a tender kiss in the middle of her palm. “You’re not married.”
Aw, hell. He’s hot and romantic rolled into one hunk of a man.
“No. Not yet.”
“A boyfriend?”
“Yes.”
For a moment, his body slumped, defeated. “Are you two serious?”
Were they serious? Decker seemed to be. But did she want to get serious with Decker? Or was her reluctance the reason why she’d thwarted his advances to have sex? “Kind of.”
He straightened to his full height and grinned at her. “You haven’t gone to bed with him, have you?”
“Wow, talk about putting your nose in where it doesn’t belong. What I have or have not done with my boyfriend is none of your business.” Then why did she want to tell him that she’d kept things platonic?
“I don’t think he’s much of a boyfriend letting you travel to a strange town to meet a father like yours.” He winced at her glare then added, “No offence meant about your dad.”
Who was he to criticize Decker? She owed Decker a lot, more than enough to stand up for him now. “He’s a good boyfriend. He treats me right and he’s helped my mother more than anyone ever has. But again, it’s none of your business.” She closed in for the real jab at him. “And for your information, no one lets me do anything. I make my own decisions, and I choose not to go out with you.”
“Aw, hell. Looks like I’m always apologizing, but—”
“Thank you for your help, but I can go the rest of the way on my own.” She picked up her suitcase where he’d dropped it, steadied it in her hand, and whirled away. Not giving him a chance to argue, she strode down the cracked pavement toward her father’s house.
She neared the old home, taking in its run-down condition. Trying not to second-guess her decision, she marched up the rickety steps to the front door. She lifted her hand, ready to knock, then dropped it back to her side.
The peeling paint, spiderwebs, and dead grass surrounding the house hadn’t kept her from marching up the uneven stone path to the front door. So why couldn’t she knock?
Mandy lifted her hand, telling herself she would lift the knocker and do it this time.
“Mandy Garland, you’re a coward.”
Instead of goading herself into action, saying the words only made them more real. Her life would change once the door opened. But would it change for the better? Or for the worse?
What if he was as terrible as Jimmy and her mother said? What if he was still a drunk? What if he didn’t even remember her?
For the first time, she regretted not getting in touch with him before traveling to Lost Hills. But she hadn’t wanted to give him a chance to tell her not to come. Problem was, he could still tell her to go home. What then?
Determined, she lifted the door knocker and rapped it four times. Chips of paint fell to her feet along with the nail holding one side of the knocker. The rusted piece of metal hung from the remaining screw and rocked back and forth.
She waited, letting several minutes pass until she tried again. The knocker gave up the fight and dropped to the warped boards below.
“Damn.” She bent to retrieve it just as the door swung open.
Bare feet, looking as though they hadn’t seen water in weeks, caught her focus and, for a half a minute, she considered staying in a crouch so she wouldn’t have to face the owner of such filthy feet.
“I ain’t buying nothing.”
She closed her eyes, gathered her strength, and stood. The smell hit her before her mind could take in the sight of the bedraggled man. Alcohol mixed with tobacco and body odor swept over her, almost bringing her to her knees. Yet the stench was nothing compared to the man himself. Purple-green bruises covered one side of his stubble-covered face and neck.
I should’ve stayed down. Oh, my God, his breath.
But it was too late. Her father, an older, grimier version of the one photograph her mother had shared with her, glared at her with bloodshot eyes. He held a bottle of a clear-colored liquid in one hand and a cigarette caught between the index and middle finger of the other hand.
“Are you all right?”
“What’re you talking about, girl?”
She pointed at his face, at the bruises slowly healing. “What happened to your face?”
He grumbled a curse word, then added, “None of your damn business. Like I said, I ain’t buying nothing.”
“I’m not selling anything.”
He frowned, and the lines in his forehead reminded her of the folds of a shar-pei’s face. Unlike the cuddly dog, he didn’t evoke any emotions of love or happiness. “Then what the hell do you want? If that damn mayor sent you, you can tell him to go to hell. ’Less’n he wants to pay to paint my house and plant my yard.”
“The mayor didn’t send me.” She dropped her suitcase, belatedly wondering if the weight of it would take it through the boards
to the ground underneath the porch. “I’m Mandy.”
The frown deepened. “Yeah? So?”
He didn’t know her. But then, she’d been a young child when he’d left. “My name is Mandy Garland.”
Still no recognition. He was intoxicated, but she still hoped he had a few brain cells left. At least enough to remember her name.
She gritted her teeth, keeping back the angry words. “I’m Mandy Garland. Your daughter.”
Her father blinked at her, the frown giving way to a confused expression. “Naw. My Mandy’s a little girl. She lives with her mother in another town. Hell, another state.”
My Mandy? Revulsion roiled her stomach. She may have been his Mandy when she was a little girl before he’d left her. But she wasn’t his Mandy now.
“I was just a young girl when you left my mother and me. But that was a long time ago. I’m a grown woman now.”
His stark appraisal scanned her from top to bottom. “Well, well. Look at you. Yeah, you did grow up.” His leer crept into his tone. “You grew up real good, too. I bet you’ve got a pack of horny hounds after you.”
She swallowed the bile rising to her throat. “I came to see you. To get to know the father I never had.”
He stepped back, holding his hands in front of him, and almost dropped the bottle. “You came to visit me?”
“Yes.” She glanced behind him into the dimly lit interior. Papers lay strewn over most of the battered and torn furniture. An older television set flickered in one corner of the small living area. A scrawny cat licked one of the many dirty dishes filled with half-eaten food. “May I come in?”
“Fuck, no.”
She’d expected many different answers, but she hadn’t expected an outright refusal. “What?”
He waved the bottle in the air. “I said, fuck, no. I didn’t ask you to come, and I ain’t asking you to stay.”
She caught the door, keeping him from slamming it in her face. “Are you serious? After all these years? After coming all this way, you don’t even want to sit down and talk?”
Her goal of knowing the man who’d left her, of finding out about his life and trying to understand him died a quick death. Her mother, Jimmy, and the people of Lost Hills were right. Her father was a loser.
“I said no and that’s that. Got it? Now get off my porch and go on home.” He cackled, enjoying her reaction, and pushed her hand off the door. Aiming for her, he flicked his cigarette into the air and shoved the door closed.
Chapter Three
Mandy stared at the door, unable to believe what had happened. Her father had closed the door on her, literally. But what now? Go home and try to forget his rebuke?
“I’m sorry, Mandy.”
She pivoted toward Jimmy, her mind still refusing to make sense of what had happened. He stood at the bottom of the steps, his face a mask of controlled anger. “He just…I mean, how could he dismiss me like I’m some kind of door-to-door salesperson? Like I mean no more to him than a stranger?”
Jimmy came beside her and pulled her to him. She didn’t resist, instead leaning against him for support. The now-familiar tingle speared into her, and she welcomed it like an old friend. A tear streaked down her cheeks, but she hid it from him, keeping her head on his shoulder. His strong arms enveloped her, comforting her, keeping her safer than she’d ever felt. He ran a hand along the back of her head, stroking her as he whispered soft words to soothe her.
“It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.”
She closed her eyes, letting her body relax and her mind forget everything except the way Jimmy’s body felt. If she could’ve stayed wrapped in his arms forever, she would have. His gentle kindness gave her what her father had refused to give her.
“You’re more than a stranger to him. You’re worse.”
As much as she wanted to keep the world at bay, she opened her eyes and moved away, but not out of his arms. She couldn’t break their connection. Not yet. “What do you mean?”
He wiped a tear away with his thumb. “Glen Garland’s an irritable, nasty coot, but I don’t think he would’ve treated a stranger as badly as he treated you. A stranger wouldn’t have meant enough to him.”
She tried to understand, but her brain wouldn’t function. “Are you saying he does care about me?”
His eyes softened as though they could ease the blow of his words. “No. Not in the way you want him to. I think seeing you brought up old memories and reminded him of a past he’d rather forget. You’re the physical representation of the worst side of him. Seeing you, acknowledging you, means he has to accept how he treated you and your mother.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “Who are you? Lost Hill’s answer to Dr. Phil?”
“Well, I am taking a couple of psychology classes.”
“And I bet you’re getting As, aren’t you?”
He chuckled. “What else would I get?”
She wanted to keep joking with him, but the image of her father throwing a cigarette at her brought another round of misery and anger. “I wish I’d picked up that damn cigarette and snubbed it out in his face.”
Fury swept from him and into her, surprising her with its intensity. Why did he care so much?
“I wanted to shove it down his throat, but I didn’t want to interfere.” His jaw muscle jumped, showing his restraint.
“You did the right thing. Although I do like your idea better than mine. Besides, I owe him a swift kick from my mother.”
Bending over to take her suitcase, he released her, and she almost wept at the loss of his body next to hers. But her pain didn’t last long as he slid his arm around her waist and led her away from the house.
They walked in silence, the hot Texas sun beating down on their backs. Where he led her, she didn’t know or care. She trusted him. More than she trusted everyone else except her mother. More than she trusted Decker. The realization bothered her, sending a fresh wave of guilt. How could she trust a man she’d just met? Yet, for some inexplicable reason, she did.
Decker had forced her to take this journey on her own, without telling him she was leaving. Why hadn’t he supported her decision to go instead of refusing to discuss the trip any further?
But she was too tired, too emotionally drained to think any longer. She dipped her head, concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, and tried not to relive the awful moment of meeting her father.
“Jimmy?”
Mandy jerked up her head to find a beautiful woman, her brown hair swept away from her face, her big brown eyes regarding her with curiosity. She exuded a confidence, an understanding of her place in the world that Mandy wished she possessed.
“Hi, Sara.”
Sara perused her, sliding her attention over Mandy, taking in details. Mandy tugged at her shirt and hoped she looked presentable. She caught a glimpse of Jimmy.
The woman meant a lot to him. Her stomach clenched, jealousy making a direct hit. But why should she care if Jimmy and Sara had something going on?
“What are you doing in town?” His tone was respectful, yet it held an irritation the respect couldn’t conceal.
“I’m just picking up a few things.” Sara reached out her hand to Mandy. “Hi. I’m Sara Hutchinson.”
Mandy wiped her hand on her skirt and took Sara’s. “Mandy Garland.”
A flicker of realization flashed across Sara’s face. “Any relation to Glen Garland?”
“She’s his daughter.”
Sara’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Really? I didn’t know he had a daughter.”
“It’s okay. Not many people do. Although I would’ve thought in a town this size, everyone would know everyone’s business.”
Sara laughed and waved her hand toward a cluster of homes. “Trust me. They know more than they let on. They’re watching us right now, I bet. But I haven’t lived here very long, so I’m still learning how the town’s gossip mill works.” Her gaze jumped to the road behind her, then back. “Have you seen your father yet?�
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“She did. Unfortunately, he was his usual charming self.” Jimmy shifted the suitcase to his other hand. “He slammed the door in her face.”
Sara’s mouth dropped open. “What? You’re kidding.”
Mandy shrugged. “I wish I was. I didn’t expect him to welcome me with open arms, but I had hoped to at least have a civil conversation with him.”
The two shared a look Mandy couldn’t interpret. Sara took Mandy’s hand and pulled her alongside her. “Well, don’t give him another thought, okay? At least not for the rest of the day. Tell me. Where are you staying?”
Although Mandy guessed Sara was about her age, she acted like an older, wiser person. A person who’d seen more of life like the older sister she’d always wanted.
“I’d kind of planned on staying with my father.”
Sara shook her head, her hair shifting with the brisk movement. “Even if he’d acted like a decent man, we couldn’t have you staying with him. The man lives like an animal. No offense.”
“None taken.” She looked around, wondering for the first time if the town had a motel. “Could you recommend a hotel, Sara? Something very reasonable? I’m, uh, on a strict budget.”
They strolled down the sidewalk leading back to the main street until coming to a stop beside a pickup truck. Sara motioned to Jimmy who tossed the suitcase into the bed of the truck.
“I sure can. You can stay at our place.”
“No, no. I can’t impose.” She couldn’t stay with strangers. Yet hadn’t she been ready to stay with the stranger that was her father?
Wait. Their place? Were Jimmy and Sara a couple? A twinge of envy hit her.
“It’s no trouble.” Sara opened the passenger-side door and motioned for her to get in. “We’d love to have you. Besides, where else are you going to stay?”
“Yeah, Mandy. The bus only comes through here once a day. You’re kind of stuck.” Jimmy grinned then offered his hand to help her step up into the cab.
She was stuck. Stuck in the middle of west Texas with a father who didn’t want to see her and a man who couldn’t keep his eyes off her. A man she found sexy as hell.