In a flourish, the fabric agonizingly separating my skin from his was quickly discarded and in a warm rush, as if it had been years instead of only a few months, every smoldering ember between us was rekindled.
Afterward, we snuggled close, nose to nose, and he reached down to touch my stomach. Timing couldn’t have been any better than at that moment, when a flutter swirled inside my belly.
“Oh!”
We’d felt it kick many times, but each instance made me long once more for this to be the time that I got to keep my baby here on earth.
Our baby fluttered again. Then kicked hard.
“Oh, thank you, God.”
Every kick was a blessing, a promise that this pregnancy would be different than all my others. I might have whispered my prayer out loud, but Keith didn’t say anything if he heard. For a long time, he just lay there, saying nothing, caressing my tummy, occasionally kissing my forehead. Just before I fell asleep, I reached up and touched my cowboy’s cheek. It was damp.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Where’s Peyton? She said she would help with these tarts.” Marta was busy lining a tray with peach pastries. We were planning a family dinner at Daddy’s house.
“She left early this morning to help Estefan and Pia with some pastry deliveries.” The website had been going crazy since Peyton had created it. Orders came in daily. “They have some prom committee errands, too.”
“Really? I thought they delivered everything.” She fished around in her bag. “Well, I can’t find my list.”
“Maybe they have the list.”
“Maybe so. Probably. Well, you’re here, so you’ll have to do. Grab that bar stool if you feel tired.”
“When do I not these days?” I sat. “This little one might just do me in.”
“Don’t say that,” she said. “You’re going to be fine.”
Marta may be my wild and crazy twin, but when it came to me and babies, she was a bigger bag of nerves than I was. I hoped Peyton or Pia wouldn’t mention the dancing to her. She would flip out.
“Here.” Marta handed me a tray. “Arrange these tarts. Hopefully the kids will get all their prom stuff done in time for dinner. We should invite Peyton’s boyfriend.”
“Estefan is her boyfriend now?”
“Well, you’re the mom. You should know.”
“Yes,” I said. “I guess he is, but she’s not calling him that just yet.”
Stevie burst through the door demanding another pitcher of lemonade. Quentin followed close behind.
“Hold on there, scout. Don’t forget to say please.”
“Oh, okay. Hey, we need more peach lemonade!”
“Please.” Quentin reminded him.
“Please.”
Marta and I giggled while I mixed up another batch for him. I noticed Quentin’s wink at Marta as he helped Stevie on the way out.
I placed the back of my hand over my forehead and closed my eyes. “Oh, be still my heart.” I teased.
She snapped me lightly with a tea towel. “Stop it.”
“What? He’s dreamy.”
“He is that.”
“You two are spending a lot of time together,” I said, serious.
“We sure are. And he’s definitely my boyfriend.” We giggled.
“That’s so sweet, sis! We both have cowboys.”
“Well,” she said. “I’m not getting my hopes up about anything. I’ve had too many losers to count before Quentin.”
“Honey, Quentin is no loser. I can assure you that. If he were, then Keith wouldn’t have ever hired him. Plus, he has a little place at the ranch, you know.” I was referring to the little cabin behind the barn where Quentin stayed when he didn’t want to drive back to Pillar Bluff.
“I am aware,” she said.
“So we could be neighbors.”
“Well, don’t mention it to Keith yet, but a little bird told me that Quentin bought a little piece of land right next to your ranch. And he’s building his own house on it.”
I grinned, dismissing Marta’s words about not getting her hopes up. I knew all about the land. Keith and I had sold it to him.
“He told you about that?” I asked.
“Yes. He did.”
I squealed, spinning on my bar stool.
“Be careful, girl!”
“I hear wedding bells!” I giggled.
She blushed.
“Did you just blush? You? Marta? Blushing?”
I walked to her, turned her around, and squeezed her hands.
“Now, it’s your turn to be happy, honey,” I said. “Just enjoy it. Don’t borrow trouble.”
She nodded.
“Besides,” I said, “I saved one of my honeymoon bikinis for you that I never wore.” I patted my waist. “I certainly am not going to be wearing it again, not for a good long while.”
“Is it the red one?”
“Of course!”
“With the little polka-dots?”
“That’s the one.”
She giggled. “How did you not wear it?”
“I took so many, just in case,” I said.
“Well, you just hang onto it for a little longer.”
“I wonder if we should text the girls to come on back,” I said. “I think Daddy could use Estefan’s help.”
“Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll be back any time.”
“Hey, sis.” I sat back down on my barstool and picked up a Sharpie. “If you found out something about Quentin, something not good that had happened before you knew him, would you be angry that he didn’t tell you before you got married?”
“Well, I’m not even engaged yet, Mandy. And is there something about him I need to know?”
Daddy walked up behind us. “You’re engaged, Marta? Now, Quentin didn’t even ask my permission.” Marta whirled around, ready to pounce, but when we both saw Daddy’s face, we knew he was joking.
“Daddy. Stop eavesdropping.” But of course we didn’t mean it. We didn’t keep many secrets from Daddy. We never could anyway, so we’d stopped trying long ago.
“It’s not eavesdropping when you’re in my kitchen.” He kissed each of us. “You never said I had to stay out, so what’s your worry today?”
I smiled. Daddy always teased us about our worrying, but in our defense, our worries usually resulted in solutions, at least ultimately.
“Mandy’s in a pickle about something Keith didn’t tell her.”
“Oh, well, I’m sure they’ll work it out. See you girls later.” He headed toward the door. I’d noticed that over the past few months he’d resisted giving opinions about my marriage. I appreciated the privacy, but I wanted his opinion.
“Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“If you found out Mom had done something that wasn’t right before she married you, and she didn’t tell you, would you have gotten mad?”
He placed his hand on the door and looked past us into the pantry where he still kept all of the embroidered kitchen towels she had made when they were first married. I knew that sometimes he went into the pantry and just stood there, to be with her things, and all the memories of her in the kitchen preparing meals and loving all of us with food, smiles, and hugs. That was one of the things that inspired The Southern Pair, the way Daddy reacted around the mementos he’d saved of our momma. Marta and I each had our own keepsakes of Momma’s. Sometimes they were the only reminders of happier times.
“That would have depended on why she didn’t tell me. I guess if it was to protect me, say, maybe from getting my feelings hurt, or worrying, I guess I would try to get over it.” He shrugged, smiled sadly. “I’ve been thinking, since y’all found Judy, that maybe your momma would’ve understood Judy’s decision to go away. Remember, she didn’t tell me about the voices when they first started. She didn’t want me to worry.
“Oh, Daddy.” Marta turned to face the sink, but I walked over and kissed him on the cheek.
He patted me on the back, as if I was the one
who needed to be consoled and not him.
“Thanks.”
He walked down the porch steps toward the barn. Marta started filling another tray with food.
“So, what is this big secret, Mandy?”
“Like it’s your business.” I still hadn’t told her about Kim’s accusation about Keith, or that he said there was more to the story and for me not to worry.
“It’s not, but you know you want to tell me.”
I did. As meddling as my sister seemed to be, when it came down to real life, we were always there for each other.
“Well, a little bit ago when Kim and Brett came over… well, you remember the argument Keith and I got into? He came over to Daddy’s for a bit?”
“Yes.” She turned to place the tray on the table.
“Well, Kim told me something that shocked me about Keith.”
Marta pulled some apples out of the fridge and doused them with the sink’s spray nozzle.
“What did Kim accuse him of?”
“Well…”
“Mandy?”
Keith. I wheeled around, caught in the act. He looked disappointed, but he should know by now—the whole twin thing. Still, it didn’t keep me from feeling guilty.
“Can I talk to you?” he asked.
Quentin walked in behind him.
Marta gave me a sympathetic look. “I’ll let you have her if Quentin will help me here in the kitchen.”
“Now, what makes you think I can cook?” Quentin reached for an apron, choosing the frilliest among those hanging on a hook by the fridge.
“Lots of reasons,” she said, just as Keith and I slipped out the back door.
“You feel like a walk?” Keith asked.
“Yes,” I said. “And then I’ll feel like sitting down, and then another walk, and so on.”
He smiled, despite the frustration I’d read on his face earlier and led me into the orchard. We walked hand in hand, not saying anything, until we got to the spot where we got married.
“Honey, I’m sorry,” I said. “I have no right to tell Marta your secrets, and she still doesn’t know because you walked in right on time.”
He shushed me, took me into his arms, and kissed me. His mouth was warm and sweet, his cologne wafting through me. When he let go, I literally had to catch my breath.
“What was that for?” I asked, having expected a much different scenario.
“To remind you of why I married you.” He stared down at me from beneath his cowboy hat, reminding me of how I felt on our wedding day, after I had shed the offensive first slip and made my way back to my groom. I recalled how he’d looked at me with relief when I walked back up the aisle on Daddy’s arm.
“Mmmm.” I said, reaching up for another kiss now, but I only got a peck on the cheek that time.
“But we do need to talk.”
“Okay.” I turned. “Let’s walk. I can’t stand in one place for long.” I pressed the bottom of my stomach with my palms. Keith caught up to me, offering me the crook of his arm. I leaned into it.
“Sure is pretty this time of year,” Keith said.
“My favorite time,” I said. Most of the apples had been harvested by this time, but a few still hung on the trees, their scent sweetening the air.
“Cowgirl, I know you’re still mad at me about what Kim said. And I realized when you were about to spill out my most embarrassing secret to your sister…”
“I’m so sorry,” I interrupted. “I shouldn’t have even tried to tell her. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Yeah, about that. Do you two have to tell each other everything?”
“Most things,” I said. “But no, not everything.”
“Good,” he said. “Because I think married people should be allowed to have a few secrets.”
“I agree.”
“Great,” he said. “Now that we have that settled, let me tell you what happened with me and Violet, so you can get it out of your mind.”
For some reason, I didn’t know if his telling me would get it out of my mind, but I did want to know.
“I’m tired of your being mad at me.”
“I’m not mad, Keith. It’s just that I feel like maybe I don’t know the real you. To tell the truth, it scares me. I’ve been married to a cheater before, and I can’t handle that again.” I offered him an apologetic look. “I’m not saying you are going to cheat on me, but just that since you have, I know you are capable.”
“Ouch,” he said.
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing. I deserve that, but can I explain?”
We had stopped at the end of the orchard and were facing each other.
“I’ve been waiting for weeks for you to do that.”
He took each of my hands, laced his fingers through mine. His eyes engulfed me and I prayed he was still the honorable man I thought him to be, because I could not live without this man.
“Mandy, I didn’t want you to know that Violet and I didn’t have a perfect marriage. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”
“Nobody has a perfect marriage,” I said. “Don’t you know that by now?”
“But with you is as close as I’m ever going to get.”
My eyes welled. I felt the same way, but I was so moved by his words, I couldn’t say it out loud.
“I was always too busy with the ranch, but mostly I was off at the rodeo. She went with me the first few years, but eventually she had to stay home and I had to leave her to deal with the ranch and the house on her own.”
“I thought she went to all the rodeos with you.”
“No,” he said. “That became impossible, but I had a living to make for us. It was her idea to stay home. She said she wanted to and she was more than capable of running the ranch. I thought she loved it. She never complained to me and I always bragged on her to people. One day I walked in while she was talking to Kim, the way I did just now to you and Marta, and she was spilling all her frustrations out to Kim.”
“I see why you were upset back there in the kitchen.”
“Not upset, but it reminded me of Violet and how I needed to communicate with you better than I did her. Make you feel more appreciated.”
Well, Oprah would be proud. A man wanting to communicate.
“Anyway, she told me she was sick of it all.” He didn’t say what all was. “One day when I came home, she’d changed all the locks.”
I couldn’t picture sweet Judy doing that. I said as much to Keith.
Keith laughed. “Believe me. Judy – Violet – wasn’t a wimpy girl. It’s why I married her.” He smiled. “It’s not like we were headed out to get a divorce or anything. She’d just had it with my cavalier way of heading off to the rodeo without thinking of her, and wanted to show me she meant business, that I had to change, and she was right to do it.”
“Wow,” I said, shaking my head. “I mean, it’s no concern of mine, I guess. I wasn’t there, but it just seems so out of character for Judy.”
By now we were walking toward one of Daddy’s barns and Keith led me to an old, but sturdy, bench that I vaguely remembered sitting on with Marta and watching Daddy work. He gently sat me down and sat beside me. He was so tall, he looked like he was sitting on a little kid chair.
“Listen, Mandy. Judy is all the good that was in Violet, but Violet was a whole person, and people are not perfect. I’m not perfect.” He winked at me. “Even though you are.”
“Stop teasing me,” I said, playfully slapping his arm. “I am the farthest thing from perfect.”
“Not that far,” he said, and his smile was gone and he was serious. “Honey, there’s something you need to know about Violet and me. We met very young when I was just starting to rodeo. We were both into it, her barrel racing, me saddle bronc riding. We really were the sweethearts of the rodeo back then.”
Mental note—don’t be jealous of a woman who is definitely unattainable now.
“We lived like young people do, before Violet decided
to stay home on the ranch,” Keith said. “Until then, the two of us were known to have a little too much fun in the dance tent. After the rodeos, we didn’t go straight home, but partied and drank, having a great time. Sometimes we took it too far and paid for it the next day.”
“At least you didn’t have kids,” I offered. “And you were with each other.”
“That’s true,” he said. “But later, after Peyton was born, all that changed. We went back to church, settled down. I stopped drinking, and that’s when Violet decided to stop racing. She’d stopped doing the queen thing before we got married, but I worried she’d regret leaving behind barrel racing. At that point, she thought she just wanted to be a mom. That left her home to take care of the kids while I was off at the rodeo, doing all the things we had always done together.”
“You kept partying without her?”
“No, not those things. I mean real rodeo things.”
“She got tired of it, didn’t she? Your being gone so much.” I could picture it now. Her waiting, wishing he would come home sooner, receiving those calls that he was staying a little longer and not knowing why, just like I had.
“Yes, she did. And for a while we grew apart, but only for a short while.”
“And that’s when it happened?”
“Yes. I was stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.” His eyes grew stormy and he shook his head.
I definitely couldn’t imagine Keith doing something like that to Violet, not really, but the embarrassment in his eyes told me it was true even if he couldn’t bring himself to say the words.
“You know what?” My previous patience and understanding were quickly evaporating and were replaced by the poison still in my heart from my previous husband, feelings I thought I’d dealt with, but once a heart is trampled that way, maybe you never really forget it.
The Real Thing Page 19