A Willing Wife. Jackie Merritt
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true, but he has to learn, Maggie. Do you think I didn’t worry about you and Cruz and your sisters when you were growing up?”
“We were different, Mama. We were always ranch kids.”
Ruben came in and, as was his habit each evening, he kissed his wife’s cheek. To Maggie he said, “Something smells good in here.”
“It’s beef stew, Papa.”
Getting to her feet, Rosita said, “It’s so good of you to make supper, Maggie. And the house is so clean, and you even did the laundry. I don’t have to do a thing when I come home. You’re spoiling me.”
Maggie smiled but had pensive thoughts. Her mother was sixty years old and was still working as hard as a young woman. True, it didn’t seem to bother Rosita, Maggie had to admit. Other than one lovely white streak, Rosita’s hair was as black as it had always been, and her skin glowed from good health. She’d grown a bit plump over the years, true, but the beauty she had possessed in her youth was still visible, especially when she smiled.
“Wash up, Papa,” Maggie said. “Supper will be on the table in five minutes.”
“Bossy, just like your mama,” Ruben said, but he smiled at his daughter and went to do as she’d asked.
Rosita eyed her daughter. “So, Dallas Fortune came by today.”
Maggie winced. She should have realized what that oversize hat on her son’s head would do to Rosita’s curiosity. “We’ll talk after supper, Mama. Everyone’s hungry now.”
While the Perezes enjoyed their fine meal, Dallas heated a frozen dinner in the microwave. He could go to the main house and eat at his father’s table anytime he wished. He could also eat with the ranch hands, which he often did.
But tonight he felt that he wasn’t fit company for anyone. He’d made a fool of himself today with Maggie, and he couldn’t stop wondering what the devil had come over him. Scowling and brooding over it while he ate his chicken dinner, he tried to recapture the misguided logic that had made him think Maggie would respond to such a blunt overture.
Pushing his chair away from the table, he rubbed the back of his neck in almost painful agitation. His behavior was inexcusable, and so uncharacteristic of the man he really was that he wondered if he hadn’t temporarily lost the good sense he’d been born with.
Was there anything he could do to make amends? Since he’d already apologized more than once, another apology wasn’t apt to change her opinion of him.
But there had to be a way to prove his worth to her, he thought with a panicky sensation in his gut. If he could only make her understand how empty his life had been before meeting her again, and how hard she had hit him. If she would really listen to him just once without that derisive look in her eyes, then he might get through to her.
As hopeless as it all looked, Dallas remained certain of one thing. He was not going to give up on Maggie. He couldn’t.
In the comfortable dining room of the ranch’s main residence, Ryan Fortune and Lily Cassidy occupied one end of the long dining table. Tonight they were eating alone, a rare pleasure in the usually active household.
They were a handsome couple, so much in love that even if their hands weren’t touching, their gazes were. They were the same age, fifty-three, and each looked much younger. Ryan was a tall, muscular man with dark brown hair and eyes. His mother, Selena, had been an exquisitely beautiful woman of Mexican descent, and Ryan looked a great deal like her.
Lily’s ancestry was Apache and Spanish, and her exotic beauty only became more pronounced with time. She and Ryan had “dressed” for dinner, and her silky sea-green gown was both fashionable and becoming to her voluptuous figure.
“You’re very beautiful in that dress,” Ryan said.
Lily smiled indulgently. “You say the same thing when I’m wearing jeans and an old shirt.”
“Only because it’s true. My love, please let me make our engagement official with a public announcement.”
Lily’s beautiful smile faded. “We’ve discussed this many times. You’re still a married man. Please, let’s not cause gossip by putting the cart before the horse. When your divorce is final, then we’ll make our announcement. Please don’t be impatient, darling.”
Ryan sighed. “I’m tired of it all, Lily, and so must you be. Parker’s a good lawyer, and I’m confident he’s doing all he can. But Sophia is a dirty fighter, and I doubt if Parker ever came up against anyone like her before.”
“I know, my darling, I know….”
Maggie was tucking Travis in bed for the night, when he said, “I like Dallas, Mama. He’s nice.”
The hat Dallas had given the boy was on the nightstand next to the bed. Travis hadn’t even wanted to take it off for his bath and had insisted it go to bed with him. The only reason it wasn’t in bed with Travis was Maggie’s patient explanation that the hat could get crunched in the night.
Maggie sat on the bed to lean over and kiss her son good-night. “He likes me too, Mama. I can tell.”
An uneasiness crept into Maggie’s system. Even though Craig had rarely been around, and hadn’t been much of a father when he had shown up, Maggie wondered if Travis missed him. He’d been, after all, the only man in Travis’s life since the boy’s birth. Was Travis transferring his need for a father from Craig to Dallas?
That idea was so disturbing that Maggie found it difficult to behave normally. She couldn’t possibly have foreseen something like that happening on the ranch, but self-reassurance on that point offered little solace. Just how did a single mother turn a child off a man who had been nothing but kind to him?
Pulling herself together, Maggie quietly led her son through his prayers, then kissed his smooth, soft, little-boy cheek. “Good night, son. I love you very much.”
“Good night, Mama. I love you very much.”
It was their normal bedtime ritual, but when Maggie left Travis’s bedroom tonight she felt as though her heart had just been broken. Damn you, Craig, why couldn’t you have been the kind of father Travis deserves to have?
On her way to the kitchen, Maggie saw her mother coming out of her bedroom, wearing nightgown, robe and slippers. Rosita’s long hair had been released from the bun she trussed it into every morning, and she was carrying a hairbrush.
“Let’s sit in the living room,” Rosita whispered.
Nodding silently, Maggie followed her mother. Once there she spoke out loud. “Did Papa already go to bed?”
“He’s tired tonight.”
“You look tired, too, Mama. You don’t have to stay up on my account.”
“I’m not quite ready for bed.” Rosita smiled mischievously. “I want to hear all about Dallas’s visit today.”
Knowing there was no way to avoid this conversation, Maggie gave in gracefully. “Why don’t you sit in this chair so I can brush your hair the way I did when I was a little girl?”
“Oh, that would be nice.” Rosita sat on the straight-backed chair and handed the brush to her daughter. She murmured when Maggie began gently running the brush through her hair, “Hmm, that feels wonderful. Now, tell me about Dallas Fortune’s visit.”
Maggie knew she had to make this story simple. Rosita’s sharp mind would pick up on the slightest hint that something other than seeing Travis again had brought Dallas to this house today.
“He wasn’t here very long,” Maggie began in a deliberately neutral voice, as though Dallas just showing up unannounced was a common occurrence and meant nothing for her. “I heard his truck and looked out the window. He had already gotten out and was talking to Travis.”
“And that’s it? You