by Mindy Neff
Sunny nodded. “We felt the strain the minute we walked into Cindy’s house. It had been almost two months…Donetta still had the bruises, Storm. But it didn’t seem to matter. Even with proof of Tim’s culpability in the breakup staring Cindy in the face, she asked Donetta to leave and to not come back. Cindy had chosen a side. Her brother’s.”
Bruises after two months? “I should have killed the bastard,” he muttered. “Guess it’s a good thing I was in a marginally better mood when I saw him yesterday. Looking the scum in the eye, knowing what I did then, was hard enough.”
“Why did you go see Tim?” Sunny inhaled. “Storm—you didn’t do anything…painful, did you?”
“Shouldn’t that answer fall into your seventy-five percent knowledge of me from our hypothetical game show? The guy’s a dirt bag.” He kept his gaze on his sister’s, letting her draw her own conclusions. “Dilday took a flight out of Austin last night. He’ll probably be back in town in two, maybe three weeks. And that will only be to pack up his belongings and move. He doesn’t work for Hope Valley bank anymore, either.”
Sunny laughed. “I know what you’re trying to do, and it won’t work. I think you might have wanted to, but I don’t believe you roughed up Tim Dilday. All the same, good riddance to him.”
“Why can’t Donetta believe in me that easily?”
“Here’s another sage piece from your smart sister. You’re too impatient.”
“You just lost points, Pip. I’ve been more patient than a saint.”
“Two weeks elevates you to sainthood? If you believe that, you sure don’t know the basic difference between males and females.”
Jack Slade walked up, caught the tail end of his wife’s words and held up his hands. “Whoa. Private conversation. I’m outta here.”
“Stay,” Storm said.
“Man, I don’t want to cause you embarrassment. Besides, I already know the lesson about girls and boys—”
“Just shut up and let my sister talk.”
“The floor’s yours, sugar babe,” Jack said, grinning. “Be gentle.”
Sunny smiled as she stood on tiptoe and smacked a kiss to her husband’s cheek. “Remember when you flunked math class because you wouldn’t show your work in long division? You just wrote down the answers?”
“Every one of those answers were correct,” Storm defended, wondering what math had to do with him and Donetta.
“You knew that. But your teacher had no way of knowing if you were cheating, because she couldn’t see all the numbers. Unless you consistently proved—in her presence—that you weren’t hiding a cheat sheet, she had no choice but to flunk you. And since I happen to have insider information to both sides of this equation, I can tell you, you’re repeating an old pattern.”
“How?”
“You’re in love with Donetta, and you figure that’s all you or anybody else needs to know. You’re confident that your solution is the correct one, that there are no hidden mistakes in your calculation. But Donetta won’t look at your math answer and simply fall in line as you expect her to. She’s worried about a possible decimal point you forgot to include that she can’t see. And that upsets you because you know you’re right, and you’re used to getting your way.”
Anna, obviously realizing something was amiss with her children, came to stand silently beside them. Storm barely noticed. He wasn’t sure he understood his sister’s analogy, but she’d just echoed words similar to the ones Donetta had said three days ago: You want your way, and that’s all you can focus on.
“Donetta has a very good reason for not falling in line, Storm.” Sunny’s voice softened. “As long as you keep pushing, she’ll have to push right back. And she knows from experience that pretty soon, a person gets tired of the strife. And when that happens you divide up the families, the cars, and the animals.”
“But—”
“Picture it, Storm. Christmas arrives and the two of you have verbally pushed and shoved long enough, so you’ve split up. You’re a little awkward with each other. You’re our family, you know you’re expected for Christmas dinner and you show up with gifts. But Netta is family, too. She’s always been to Christmas supper. Now what? Do we ask her to stay home? Does she come? Should y’all bring gifts for each other, as well? Do you get mad because we’re all so distraught over hurting one or both of you that you say ‘To hell with it’ and spend Christmas somewhere else?”
“Damn it, Pip, that’s not going to happen.” His outburst drew the attention of several diners.
“You’re legitimate; she’s the figurative stepchild,” Sunny continued, hammering away as if he hadn’t even spoken. “Mama and I love you both equally. These are the things Donetta is going to think about. But not for herself, Storm. It will be for the worry and heartache you, me and Mama will go through. She’ll sacrifice her needs before she’ll put us through that.”
His chest felt ready to explode. The scenario his sister painted was intolerable. “I’m not listening to any more of this. You’re all borrowing trouble where there isn’t any.”
Sunny snagged his arm. “Donetta loves you, Storm. She’s always been in love with you. If that wasn’t the case, none of this would be an issue. I’m on your side. I really am. I’d give anything to see the two of you together…”
“But?” he prodded, aware his tone was surly, yet unable to temper it.
“But she was mine before she was yours,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.
The stark words knocked the breath out of him. Un-bidden, an image of nine-year-old Donetta sitting on the front steps of his mother’s house flashed in his mind. The stoic little girl trying to act as though it was no big deal that her father was gone, that he wasn’t even her father at all. That her mother was a drunk who didn’t even care enough to come home at night. People she should have been closest to, should have been able to trust, had shown that appearances could easily deceive, that nasty surprises lurked beneath the surface, hidden by false smiles and false words.
“She’s been through more than any one person should ever have to go through,” Sunny continued. “If she decides that loving you is too big a risk, she’ll still have my support. We made a vow when we were nine. I can’t explain how that’s different from the husband-and-wife love, or the brother-and-sister love—but with Donetta, Tracy Lynn, Becca and me, it just is.”
Storm swallowed back his own emotion. He noticed that Jack was paying close attention to Sunny’s declaration, wondered if the other man had known just how strong that bond was.
A part of him noted that the café had gone unusually silent, but he didn’t care if every busybody in town was eavesdropping.
He finally understood. They were lucky, Donetta and the other three Texas Sweethearts. To have a friendship and bond so strong was priceless. They’d been together all their lives, proven that they were unshakable, secure that there were no surprises.
Storm had been away for fourteen years, didn’t have the day-to-day track record that could speak for him, substantiate the level of ease Donetta needed in order to trust him as she trusted his sister. He could only tell her how he felt. How he’d always felt.
But he’d just realized that he did have proof.
He scooped Sunny off her feet and twirled with her. “Thanks for doing my math, Pip.” On the second revolution, when he was in the process of setting his sister back on solid ground, his gaze skimmed over Millicent Lloyd’s shocking blue hair, the two grandmas…and collided with Donetta’s amber eyes.
DONETTA’S WHOLE BODY was shaking with joy, with love…and with nausea. Why hadn’t she seen how lucky she was?
Grammy Betty stood on one side of her and Storm’s Grandma Birdie was on the other. Both women had their arms around her waist as though they expected her to keel over any second now—mainly because she’d taken off her wristbands and morning-noon-and-night sickness was clawing at her insides. As a precaution, Millicent Lloyd stood behind her.
“Well, Betty,” B
irdie said, leaning around Donetta. “Want to put some money on which one of our grandkids comes out of their stupor first?”
“Why, that would be like knowing both sides of the poker cards,” Betty said. “Where’s the challenge in that, I ask you.” She squeezed Donetta’s waist, whispered lovingly, “Take the step, hon.”
The grandmothers had been home two days, and Donetta couldn’t get over the drastic change in Grammy. She was no longer the reserved, quietly proper woman Donetta had grown up with. Birdie’s doings, she imagined. She’d intended to prepare Grammy for the gossip that would soon be dished out like potato salad at a Fourth of July picnic, but Birdie had been at the house, too, and somehow things had gotten completely out of hand. The next thing she knew, the women had cornered her, and even dragged Miz Lloyd over, determined to set Donetta straight on life, family and love.
She felt as though she’d been legally blind up until now, and was seeing the world through a new pair of special glasses.
She’d set the bar for normal human behavior based on her mother and Tim. The grandmas and Millicent had helped her see that those standards were an exception, not the rule.
Donetta took the step. And so did Storm.
“Dang,” Birdie said. “Wouldn’t you know. It’s a draw.”
Storm’s hands went immediately to her face. They brushed back her hair, skimming down her arms to her wrists. He wore the type of panicked “guy” look she would have never associated with a man like Storm Carmichael.
“What’s wrong? Did something happen? You’ve turned pale again—” He stopped, frowned. “Netta? Darlin’, where are the bracelets?”
“Grammy has them in her purse. I want you to hypnotize me.”
Now it was his turn to go pale. “Damn it, Netta. I can’t just—” He bent his knees, stared into her eyes, placed his palm over her stomach. The intensity in his green eyes was so powerful.
Why hadn’t she ever realized before that she could see this man’s heart?
Without breaking eye contact, he said. “Betty, would you pass me those elastic bands in your purse?”
Before she could object, the elastic bracelets were dangling over her shoulder.
“Storm. No. I need to show you that I trust you. This is the only way—”
“I don’t perform well under pressure, darlin’. And you caught me on the way out.”
“Excuse me?”
He chuckled at her incredulous tone. “There’s that fire I’m so crazy about.” He slipped the bands on her wrists, pressed softly against the pressure point for several seconds, then kissed her with a tenderness that penetrated clear to her soul.
By the time he lifted his head, Donetta decided she did need a little support to stand. He handed her back to the grandmothers.
“Stay right here. Don’t move. I have a quick errand to run. I’ll be right back.”
She’d just told the man she was ready to surrender her body, soul, and mind to him…and he was going to run an errand? They were having a baby, for crying out loud. Shouldn’t they be finding a quiet corner to discuss their future?
“This better be important, young man,” Millicent said, with a disapproving sniff.
“Yes, ma’am, it is.”
He dashed out the door, and Donetta shook her head. She was crazy about the man, and absolutely bewildered. She cringed when his truck roared to life and slammed into gear before the pistons hardly had time to pump oil. He smoked the tires in reverse and left a good portion of rubber down Main Street as the beefy truck shot forward with a total lack of regard for the health of its transmission.
She turned back and met Sunny’s eyes. Within seconds, she was hugging her friend, so incredibly moved by Sunny’s summation of their friendship, because it matched her own.
“I’ve been an idiot,” she whispered.
“Baby hormones,” Sunny whispered back. “I’d have slapped you out of it sooner or later.”
The door burst open and Becca and Tracy Lynn raced in. “What’s going on?” Tracy demanded, looking around wildly. “Storm just peeled out of here like a madman.” She saw Donetta and grabbed Becca’s arm, hauling her through the café. “Hey, Grandma Birdie, Grammy Betty,” she said politely in passing.
“Miz Lloyd,” Becca added.
Donetta smiled. “I think I might have finally driven Storm past the point of salvation,” she said to Tracy and Becca when they halted in front of her. She was dying to know where the heck he’d gone and why he’d had to leave right that minute.
“The grandmas look like they wish they were holding shotguns,” Tracy whispered. “Do they know about the…you know?”
Donetta nodded. “They’ve had me holed up at Grammy’s all day, and they even called in Miz. Lloyd. Lordy, I felt as though I’d been accosted by the Ya-Ya Sisters. Did y’all hear that Tim’s been transferred to another bank in Northwest Texas?”
“I didn’t know it was a transfer,” Sunny said. “Storm tried to make me believe he’d beat the whey out of the guy.”
“Did you believe him?”
“Of course not. I gave him a math lesson.”
Donetta nodded. As did Becca and Tracy. It was a girl thing. “Miz Lloyd told the grandma’s and me about Tim,” Donetta said. “There was no mention of punches thrown.”
Storm had quietly dealt with two bullies in her life. He hadn’t caused a fuss or drawn attention. He’d shown his goodness by giving the men alternatives—another job for Tim, no arrest and another chance for Judd.
Although she’d handled Tim by divorcing him and she would have handled the contractor on her own if Storm hadn’t jumped the gun and gotten there first, his sweetness touched her. He didn’t want her to hurt or feel sick, and he would move heaven and earth and people to make sure she was safe.
That’s when she’d realized that she did know him. With every touch, every glance, every deed, he’d been trying to show her that. And she’d been too blind to see.
She’d been hiding, determined that there would be no more men or relationships in her life. But Storm was a detective. He found people who were hiding—exposed them.
And he’d found the key to her hideaway…left a part of himself there so that he could always come back again, so that he could always find her. Through their child. A forever tie.
And oh, how she wanted that tie.
Every eye in the café turned toward the front door when the white pickup squealed into the parking space.
“Somebody ought to give that boy a ticket,” Millicent commented.
Donetta’s heart pounded as he came through the door and headed directly for her. She was instantly wary of the sexy sparkle in his eyes.
He stopped in front of her and pulled a pair of red bikini underpants out of his pocket.
“Do you remember these?”
Horrified, Donetta tried to snatch them from him. “Storm!” she hissed. “Have you lost your mind? You’re flashing my underwear in public!”
“What’s so private about them? You left them hanging on Bertha twelve years ago for the entire town to see.”
“Twelve—” For a moment, Donetta was speechless. Sunny had told her Storm had only seen her decorating the panty tree. There’d been no mention that he’d actually taken them. She’d been eighteen that summer, and he’d been twenty-four, home for Sunny’s high-school graduation. “You kept them?”
“Yeah. I always wondered why. I finally figured it out. You said I had commitment phobias because I haven’t had any lasting relationships. That’s not the case. Turns out, I’m a one-woman man. My heart has always known what my brain didn’t recognize.”
His big palms were so tender as he cupped her face. “I love you, Donetta. You can’t doubt a man who keeps your underwear for twelve years. That’s got to prove something. You should be cherished, and I want to be the man to do that. For the rest of our lives. Please marry me.”
At last she’d understood. Marrying Storm wouldn’t take away her freedom.
His love and devotion would set her free. Had set her free.
This time, she knew her dream would come true. “You’re making me a pretty good offer. I’ve always wished I could call Anna ‘Mom’ for real.”
Anna put a hand to her bosom, right over her heart, then snatched up the hem of her apron to wipe her tears. Grammy smiled and, with Birdie and Millicent trailing, went to stand next to her.
“I’ve heard of marrying for money,” Storm said, “but for a guy’s mother?”
“Well, I suppose you have other attributes that are enticing.” She gave him a smoldering look that made his eyes flare and his chest rise and fall with desire.
Oh, yes, she thought. They were going to have a very good life together.
“I happen to love you with all my heart, Storm Carmichael. And since we’re going to be parents,” she said quietly, “I suppose you ought to make an honest woman out of me.”
He hauled her into his arms and kissed her. When he came up for air, he grinned at the beaming crowd.
“Hey, everybody, it’s time Donetta’s secret came out. We’re getting married—and Mama, you’re getting another grandbaby.”
Darla Pam Kirkwell, who’d plopped herself front and center at the counter so as not to miss any juicy gossip, sucked in a scandalized breath.
Anna promptly dumped a pitcher full of cold milk in the woman’s lap. “That ought to give you something to gasp about.” Her eyes scanned every corner of the café that now bore her name. Surrounded by her friends and family, she perched her hands on her hips.
“And that goes for the rest of you. I defy anyone to make a peep about Storm and Donetta announcing my next grandbaby before the wedding!”
Darla Pam huffed and marched toward the door with as much dignity as a woman could muster while wearing milk on the front of her skirt.
Storm didn’t give her a second glance. He had eyes only for Donetta.
All his life—and for the rest of his life, this Texas Sweetheart was his.