The Marriage Season. Linda Miller Lael
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to know what I’m supposed to do now.”
“It isn’t your rodeo.” Melody said it with quiet resolve, and Hadleigh nodded. “I wish this was your choice, but it’s not. Tara needs to figure it out on her own.”
“Josh has to be so afraid and freaked out.”
“Well, let’s go get him.” Both Hadleigh and Melody were on their feet. “We have dogs, horses, food, acres of land and other boys his age. You brought these fabulous cookies. If that doesn’t make him feel better, I’m not sure what would.”
“My sister—”
“Tara isn’t six years old, Bex. Josh is. He’s six. We’ll rescue him, not her.” Hadleigh said it pleasantly enough, but her tone was unrelenting. “Let’s go. Tara can do what she wants—stay at your place or come with us. Up to her. The important thing is Josh. We need to bring him here, give him a chance to relax, play with Tate’s boys, hang out with the dogs. You’re just going to sit and worry about him, anyway.”
They had a point, and it was true. Her house didn’t offer much entertainment for a young boy, while the ranch was a virtual playground of endless child fun. As they walked to the car, both of Tate’s sons ran past, the dogs in hot pursuit, and there was definitely a cowboy theme going on with whatever game they were playing. Tripp and Tate followed at a more sedate pace, talking companionably, and when Tripp saw them getting in the car, he said, “I can guess where you’re headed.”
“I don’t think Josh’s shoulder should be the one Tara cries on,” Bex said, remembering her sister’s hysteria. “It can’t be good for him to see her so upset. We’re taking two cars. She can do her ranting and raving to me, while Mel and Hadleigh bring him back here.”
And there went a lovely afternoon. Greg was a piece of dirt, but Tara was a bona fide drama queen with a capital D. Her sister wasn’t blameless in all this.
She added quietly, because she was unaccountably embarrassed over something that wasn’t her fault, “I especially don’t want him there if Greg shows up with his usual apologies, which always involve a great deal of arguing. Besides, I can’t prove he’s ever gotten physical with Tara, but I’ve wondered. This time she seems serious about divorcing him. He might not take it well.”
Tripp took out his phone. “I’ll see if Spence can meet you at the house or at least send a deputy. That’ll keep things calm. Otherwise, the three of you aren’t going anywhere without me.” Spencer Hogan, Melody’s husband, happened to be the chief of police...
“I agree with that,” Tate said, his chestnut hair ruffled by the breeze, his expression serious. “I haven’t met the guy, but from what I’ve heard he’s not exactly sainthood material. You shouldn’t be there alone with your sister. Bring her back and then if he wants to talk to her, he’ll have to go through Tripp and me.”
If nothing else, she certainly had a wonderful support group.
If Tara stuck with her divorce plans, and Bex had her doubts, it was going to get interesting. For one thing, her sister didn’t have a job any longer—when she got pregnant she’d quit the hardware store—or the skills to obtain a new one. Greg worked as a mechanic, but they constantly borrowed money from her parents as it was. Lawyers would have to be paid, there’d be child support and Bex was pretty sure their finances were already in bad shape.
With an inner sigh, she knew she could give Tara a job at the fitness center she owned in town, but she didn’t trust her to make an effort if she did. The story of their lives. Tara was stunning, and Bex had always thought she was smart, until the day she married Greg. Well, let’s not forget those high school loser boyfriends...
Downhill slide. A mess. A low-down, convoluted mess.
Spence said he could take care of it, no problem, and their little caravan took off. Mustang Creek was hardly a rockin’ and rollin’ kind of place, but on a bright fall Saturday it was busy, and Bad Billie’s, a favorite local hangout, was packed. To her dismay, she recognized Greg’s restored orange Corvette in the lot.
So he was drinking. Not surprising, considering his rift with his wife, but not good, either.
When they pulled into her driveway, she got out and went over to Melody’s car to say, “Hey, can you ask Spence to call Junie? Have her get Billie to water down my soon-to-be-ex-brother-in-law’s drinks?”
Junie McFarlane was a dispatcher for the police department, and Spence had been as good as his word; there was a deputy’s SUV parked across the street.
Mel was right on it. “Junie and I are tight. I’ll call her myself. Good idea. I know Billie would do it for me, but for Junie, Billie would flap his arms and fly to the moon.”
Billie was a little older than Junie, who was in her late thirties, but everyone knew he had a serious crush on her. It was cute, coming from a rough-and-tumble guy like him, but she didn’t seem to mind. Junie was a regular at Bad Billie’s, and she flirted with him shamelessly.
So that was taken care of, anyway. Greg would soon be drinking a lot of water. Yep. It was healthy to be well hydrated. Bex had just done him an enormous favor, not that he deserved it.
Tara was sitting in the living room on the couch, her face splotchy, tissue in hand, and Joshua was intently watching a cartoon until he saw Bex walk in. His face lit up, and he scrambled to his feet.
“Hiya, cowboy.” Bex went over and bent to kiss his cheek. “Isn’t it a beautiful day outside? Muggles, Ridley and Harley told me to point that out. Is there any chance you want to go to the ranch for a while and see them? They sure are missing you. Tripp has some new horses, and Ben and Adam are there. Interested?”
“Yeah!”
The child was always too solemn in her opinion, so the enthusiasm was welcome.
“Ask your mom if it’s okay for you to go with Aunt Mel and Aunt Hadleigh.”
Tara waved an apathetic hand.
Bex walked him out to the car, saw him settled and buckled in, then mouthed to her two best friends, Thank you.
He was in good hands.
When they pulled away, she braced herself and went back inside. Her sister had definitely looked better. Runny mascara, foundation just a memory, and her entire face was puffy. Never mind her hair, which was a tangled mess. Bex said, “I’ll go make us some tea. Then you can tell me exactly what’s going on.”
“That double-crossing son of a bitch is on his own now,” Tara said a few minutes later, holding her steaming cup in shaky hands. “I’ve put up with him for ten years and he can’t seem to get the concept that marriage includes fidelity. I’m done.”
Bex had chosen an antique rocking chair that was her favorite whenever she wanted to reflect. “Do you mean it?”
Tara gave a jerky nod in response. “I know he’s sweet-talked me back before, but it isn’t going to happen again. I know you’ve heard this a dozen times, but I mean it. I really mean it.”
At least Bex could say that, as of this moment, she was officially not an I-told-you-so kind of person. “You and Josh are welcome to stay here as long as you need.”
“I already knew that.” Tara sniffled and attempted a wan smile. “It’s the first place I came. Thanks.”
“The only trouble is that this is also the first place Greg will look if he wants to sweet-talk you, as you put it.” Bex pointed at the front window. “See that deputy sitting out in his car? He’s there courtesy of Spence Hogan and the Mustang Creek Police Department. Let’s go out to Tripp and Hadleigh’s ranch now, and you can take a nap. You look worn out. Then if Josh needs you, you’ll be right there.”
“That sounds good.”
* * *
IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE not to recognize—and understand—the