by Helen Lacey
“I know you’re angry, Marissa,” her aunt said, cutting through her words. “So be angry.”
“I’m not angry with you,” she admitted. “I guess you have your reasons for not saying anything.”
Violet nodded. “I did what I thought was right for you. When he reappeared in town six years ago, I knew it wouldn’t be too long before he found out about you. All he had to do was ask around about Janie and he’d quickly discover she’d had a daughter. I didn’t expect him to stay, though. I thought he’d disappear like he had last time.”
Emotion burned her throat. “So he never knew my mom was pregnant?”
“No,” Violet replied. “By the time Janie found out, he was long gone. He was a transient, Marissa. A good-looking cowboy with barely a dime in his pocket who moved around from town to town, looking for work when he could get it. And he just happened to be passing through this town when Janie caught his eye. And then a couple weeks later he left.”
It sounded sordid. No wonder her mother had never said anything about it. What child would want to hear that kind of story? Marissa had spent two days thinking about it and wondering what she should do next. But it was an easy decision. She’d never had a father. She still didn’t.
“When he came back six years ago, what did he say to you?” she asked quietly.
“He said he was staying,” Violet replied and sniffed. “He knew you came back a couple of times a year to visit me and Liz and the girls and said he hoped he’d get to see you during those times. Of course, I didn’t agree with his decision, but there was little I could do about it.”
Marissa sighed heavily. “I wish you’d told me this, Aunt Violet.”
“I know,” her aunt said. “I should have. I was wrong to keep the truth from you. I just wanted to protect you.”
Marissa nodded. “I know you did.”
She stayed for another ten minutes and then headed home. As she drove up the gravel driveway, she spotted Grady’s truck parked outside her house and was almost tempted to turn around and head back into town. But since that was the coward’s way, she sucked in a deep breath, drove into the driveway and parked beside the house.
Grady was on the steps and rose to his feet once she turned off the ignition. Marissa opened the trunk, grabbed the couple of grocery bags and then locked the car.
He was beside her in a second. “Here, give me those.”
She shrugged past him and ignored his request. “Go away.”
“I’m not going anywhere until we’ve talked,” he insisted and followed her up the steps.
Marissa dumped the bags on the love seat by the door and rummaged in her tote for the house keys. She didn’t want to look at him. Didn’t want to think how safe and strong his arms seemed. She only wanted him to leave.
“Marissa?”
She turned on her heels. “I don’t want to talk to you.”
He sighed wearily. “Then would you at least talk to your father?”
“Don’t call him that,” she snapped and glared at him. “I don’t have a father.”
“Oh, yeah, you do,” Grady said with annoying confidence. “And he wants to see you.”
“Really?” Her brows rose. “Then why are you here instead of him?”
“He asked me to talk to you first, maybe smooth things over a little.”
Marissa winced. Grady Parker was an emotional wrecking ball. “And how do you think that’s going so far?”
“Would you please just listen?” he asked impatiently.
Marissa held out her hands. “Okay...I’m listening.”
“He wants to have the chance to explain, to talk to you about his relationship with your mom.”
“I know all about it,” she said quietly. “Aunt Violet told me he was a drifter who came to town, got my mother pregnant and then left. And yes, I know he didn’t know she was pregnant...but I can’t see how that would have made any difference.”
“He only wants a chance to talk with you,” Grady said with a heavy sigh. “He’s a good man, Marissa. And he stayed once he knew about you. He stayed in town and got a job working at the ranch. He knew Liz was your friend and figured that way he might get to see you sometimes.”
“And stayed silent.”
“That was your aunt’s idea. She was looking out for you, that’s all. If you could look past your temper and stop being stubborn for one minute, you would—”
“My temper?” She dropped the keys and her tote on the love seat. God, he was insufferable. “Is that what you think this is about? Me being angry with my aunt and Rex?”
“What else?”
“You,” she shot back. “I’m angry with you. I feel hurt and betrayed and so mad at you for not telling me the truth.”
“It wasn’t my place.”
“Your place?” she echoed incredulously. “It became your place the first time you kissed me. It became your place the moment we stepped into that hotel room last week. And it certainly became your place after that offensive marriage proposal.”
“Offensive?”
Marissa let out a brittle laugh at his affronted tone. “What else would you call it? Oh, hang on... I’ll see what I can do. I think that’s how it went. You’re about as romantic as a load of laundry.”
His cheeks slashed with color. “Romance?” He said the word as if his mouth was full of broken glass. “Seriously?”
“What can I say?” she said and shrugged. “I’m a girl... I believe in all that stuff. And I want it. I want the flowers and the music and the poetic love notes and all of that sugary nonsense. I didn’t have it the first time around. I married a man I hardly knew and ended up regretting it through to my bones. I married him because I was alone and lonely and thought it was time I got married. I settled. But I’m not going to settle again.”
“You think you’d be settling if you married me?”
She nodded, hurting all over. “Yes.”
His shoulders sagged slightly. “I see. I’ll tell Rex to come by and talk to you in the next couple of days—if that’s okay with you.”
“Sure,” she said vaguely. “Whatever.”
He turned and walked down the steps with a kind of weary resignation that should have thrilled her. But didn’t. He looked...defeated. But she was right to say what she did. A marriage without love on both sides was settling. And she wouldn’t do it. She couldn’t. Not even for the three little girls she loved so much. As he got into his truck and drove away, Marissa’s eyes filled with tears, and once his pickup was out of sight she dropped onto the love seat and sobbed.
* * *
“Well, what did she say? Will she see me? Can I talk to her? Is she still angry?”
Grady wasn’t even out of his truck before Rex started barking out questions.
He got out and slammed the door. “It’s not you she’s angry at.”
Rex was frowning and then he half smiled, wrinkling his already weathered face. “She’s mad at you?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?” Rex asked. “What did you do?”
“Nothing...apparently.”
The older man frowned again and Grady didn’t hang around for any more questions. He headed inside and found his mother and brother in his kitchen. Both had seen fit to invite themselves over for dinner.
“Where are the girls?” he asked as he poured a cup of coffee he didn’t want.
“Tina is having a nap and the other two are playing in their room,” his mother replied, looking at him curiously. “You weren’t gone long. I thought you had errands to do.”
“I did what I went out for.”
The door to the mudroom opened and Rex came barreling in through the open back kitchen door.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Rex said hotly, still scowling. �
��What did you do to my daughter?”
“Nothing,” Grady assured him. “Go and see her in a day or so. She’ll probably be ready to talk to you then.”
“And you?”
Grady ignored the question and drank some coffee. “We’ve talked enough.”
“Did you ask her again?”
Brant’s voice this time. Interfering and way out of line. Grady scowled at his younger brother. “No. And don’t start with—”
“Ask her what?” Colleen was all eyes and ears in her quest for details.
“Nothing,” Grady replied.
“He asked Marissa to marry him,” Brant supplied, so matter-of-factly Grady was tempted to punch him in the mouth.
“You did what?”
Colleen and Rex, simultaneously asking the same thing, looked as if their heads were going to explode.
“Can you keep your voices down?” Grady said, frowning. “I don’t want the girls hearing this.”
His mother nodded. “So, you proposed to Marissa?” she asked quietly.
“Yes, okay,” Grady said irritably and poured the coffee down the sink. “I asked her to marry me. I asked Marissa to marry me and she refused.” He glared at his younger brother. “Happy? Now that everyone knows I’ve made a complete fool out of myself over a woman who thinks she’d be settling if she was my wife!”
Grady quickly left the kitchen, took the few steps down to the mudroom and strode out of the house. He fought the hurt and rage climbing over his skin and took a few long breaths to calm himself as he walked across the yard and toward the stables. He grabbed the saddle, bridle and blanket and headed for Solo’s stall. The big paint gelding snickered when he undid the bolt on the door, and a few minutes later the horse was tacked up and Grady was in the saddle.
He stayed out for about an hour, riding along the fence line, determined to get the anger out of his belly. Solo had a rhythmic, easy canter, and with the feel of the breeze on his face and the sound of the gelding’s hooves pounding over the grass, it gradually eased the hot ache he felt all over.
Marissa...
He said her name to the wind and hoped it would be cathartic.
But he still hurt all over. He still felt like a fool. He still didn’t know how to stop wanting her.
By the time he returned to the stables, it was past three o’clock. He walked Solo into the stable, pulled off the saddle and bridle and brushed him down.
“So, you get all that out of your system?”
Brant was by the door, elbows rested on the stall.
“Just about,” he replied and tossed the curry comb in the bucket.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“About Marissa? No, thanks,” Grady said and grabbed the hay net off the wall. He left the stall for the feed room and returned a minute later with the net filled with grassy hay. His brother hadn’t moved. “You’re still here?”
“Yep. Mom sent me to talk to you.”
Grady laughed humorlessly. “Really. You? Talking?”
Brant shrugged loosely. “So I’m more of a listener than a talker.”
“Then go and listen to Mom tell you all about Lucy Monero,” Grady said. “That should have you bailing in about two seconds flat.”
Brant managed a good-humored scowl. “We’re not talking about me. This is about you and Marissa.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” he shot back. “She turned me down. She doesn’t want me. She doesn’t want the girls. She doesn’t want to settle. She wants music and flowers and poetic love notes.”
“What?” Brant asked, frowning.
“You heard. That’s what she said she wants.”
“Isn’t that what all women want?” Brant tapped his fingertips on the door and looked at him. “So, you’re in love with her, then?”
Heat crept up his neck and he shrugged. “Stupid, huh?”
His brother half smiled. “Well, you’ve always been the sentimental one.”
“But not romantic,” he said quietly. Flowers. Music. Love notes. It was ridiculous. They weren’t eighteen. High school was over. He was a grown man with three children and he wasn’t going to get distracted by silly romantic nonsense. Besides, she’d made her feelings abundantly clear. Egotistical he wasn’t, but that didn’t mean he was going to keep pursuing a woman who thought she’d be settling. Only an idiot would do that. “You going to crash here tonight?”
“Sure,” Brant said.
“Good. Can you watch the girls for me in the morning and then drop them off at Mom’s?”
“If you like. Where are you going?” his brother asked.
“I promised Marissa a riding lesson.”
“You could cancel,” Brant said.
He could...but he’d made a promise. “I said I’d be there.”
“Having integrity can suck sometimes, hey?” Brant said, and grinned. “That sentimental heart of yours just might get smashed some more.”
“Yeah,” Grady said and locked the stall. “It just might.”
* * *
Marissa was awake and outside when Grady’s pickup pulled up the next morning. She was on the porch, sipping tea and ignoring the toast she’d prepared. He came through the gate and stood by the bottom step. He looked gorgeous, in worn jeans and a black shirt. But she stayed strong.
“What are you doing here? Again, I might add.”
“I like to consider myself a man of my word,” he said evenly. “And I promised you a riding lesson this morning.”
“I’m not in the mood,” she replied. “For you, or a lesson.”
“Ebony needs the workout,” he said and rested a foot on the step. “And you said you wanted to learn. So, go and get changed.”
Marissa grabbed her tea and uneaten toast and moved inside, cursing him under her breath the whole time she was pulling on jeans and a shirt and her boots. By the time she got back outside, he was by the small horse yard and shelter, had haltered the horse and had the saddle and other gear ready for her.
Marissa tacked Ebony up herself, refusing to ask for his help even when the old mare bloated out so she couldn’t get the girth hitched up.
“Press your knee gently under her belly,” he suggested. “She’ll get the message soon enough.”
Marissa did as he said and it worked. Once the horse was tacked up and the bridle was in place, she walked the mare around the yard for a couple of minutes before she swung into the saddle. Grady led her to a flat, grassy spot behind one of the greenhouses and instructed her to take the mare out in a circle.
Half an hour later she had to admit he was a good teacher. He was patient and considerate and didn’t push her to do too much. And Ebony was a dream. She remembered how he’d brought the old mare over to her all those weeks ago. He’d accused her of being ungrateful and they’d parted badly that day. Insults and arguments seemed to be the general tempo of their relationship. Except for that one incredible afternoon when she’d felt more connected to him than she ever had to anyone in her life. He was a generous and skilled lover and she had experienced pleasure so acute it still made her light-headed thinking about it. But it wasn’t enough. It couldn’t be enough. If she let it be enough, she would be settling.
“You’re a fast learner,” he said as she dismounted. “Good job.”
“Thanks. Hopefully being a fast learner will help me become a good farmer,” she said as she led Ebony back to the stall.
He caught up with her quickly. “Is that really what you want, Marissa? To become a farmer and live here alone?”
“I’m not alone,” she said and patted the mare’s neck. “I have Ebony.”
She tied the mare to the railing and quickly slipped off the saddle. Once she’d brushed her down, Marissa took off the bridle and opened the gate to her yar
d.
Grady was beside the fence. He sighed heavily. “You know what I mean.”
She shrugged, led the mare into the yard and closed the gate. “I’m not afraid of my own company. And I’d rather be alone than be in a loveless relationship.”
“I thought loving the girls might be enough for you,” he said bluntly.
“And once they’re all grown up, what then, Grady? We’ll be two people who married for all the wrong reasons.”
“I can’t think that getting married to make my kids happy is anything other than the only reason we need.”
Logic. Relentless, gut-wrenching logic. “You’ll find someone else who will—”
“The girls don’t want anyone else, Marissa,” he said and moved closer. He took her hand in his and rubbed a thumb along her palm. “They want you. Only you. It could only ever be you.”
Her heart rolled over and she took a deep breath. “Because I remind them of Liz.”
“No,” he said quickly. “Not because of Liz. Because of you. Because they have put their love in your hands. They trust you and they want you to be their mom. In their young minds, it’s incredibly simple. All children really need is to feel loved and to feel safe. And they get both of those things from you.”
“Stop doing that,” she demanded and pulled her hand away. “Stop trying to use them as leverage to get me to agree to this.”
“Since they’re obviously the only leverage I have, I’ll do what I have to.”
Marissa wanted to shout and curse and tell him to go to hell. But there was such an earnest belief in what he was saying in his voice, she couldn’t. She took a steadying breath and met his gaze. “I can’t...not even for them.”
“Then what?” he demanded, his eyes darkening. “What is it you want?” he asked and pulled her close. “Is it this?”
His mouth came down on hers with seductive force, and the kiss had possession and frustration stamped all over it. His tongue found hers quickly, and she didn’t have the will or strength to resist. His hands moved around her back and curved over her hips, pulling her closer, drawing them together in a way that she could feel every hard angle of his body. Marissa clutched his shoulders and she arched against him. Kissing Grady was like quenching a long-endured thirst—and she wanted more.