A Man to Hold on to (A Tallgrass Novel) (30 page)

“Are we going to lunch?” Mariah jumped, and Therese automatically reached to swing her up. The faith that child had in other people’s ability and willingness to catch her amazed Keegan every time. “Can we go to McDonald’s?”

Therese hugged her a moment, tightly enough to make her squirm. “Honey, I’m not hungry, but I bet Daddy will take you wherever you want.”

Mariah’s little face screwed up, her lip trembling. “But I want you to come, Trace. Please?”

“Not this time.”

Therese set her on the ground and gave her a nudge in Keegan’s direction. He met Mariah halfway, took her hand, and walked inside the house. Before closing the door, though, he looked back. “Don’t mistake my leaving for giving up. This isn’t over, Therese.”

Her gaze darted his way, and for an instant he was sure he saw hope in it. Just as quickly, she turned away again. With Mariah chattering about the possibility of getting a puppy all her own, they walked through the house and out the front door. Though a dull, empty ache filled him, he felt a bit of hope, too.

He would be back. They would make this thing right.

They had to.

T
herese didn’t know how long she stood there, shut down, but finally she forced herself to move, picking up the bottles and the picture, going inside, setting everything on the island. She was blessedly numb inside, though she didn’t expect it to last, because two facts kept pounding through her brain.

She’d loved Paul dearly, and he’d betrayed her.

She loved Keegan, and he’d hidden the truth from her.

And a third fact: she still had to decide what to do about Abby.

Dear God, how had her life gotten so screwed up? Twenty-four hours ago she’d been blissfully happy. Now she just wanted to curl into a dark corner and weep, but damned if she would. She was strong. But she had to do something before she covered her ears and started shrieking like Abby and Mariah on a really bad day, because if she started, she might never stop.

The ticking clock pulled her gaze to the wall, and she realized it was almost Carly’s lunch period. Fumbling with her cell phone, she sent her friend a text:
Bringing lunch. Meet me in parking lot.
Then she jerked open the refrigerator, gathered ingredients, and slapped together a ham and cheese sandwich. Leaving the island a mess, she shoved the sandwich into a plastic zippered bag, grabbed bottles of water, and headed for the door.

By the time she pulled into a space in the parking lot shared by the post schools, Carly was already striding over to the van. She slid into the passenger seat, then treated Therese to a somber study. “What happened?”

Aiming for an unaffected manner, Therese gave a quick rundown of recent events. She thought she’d pulled it off fairly well—no catches in her voice, no tears in her eyes—but when she finished, Carly leaned across the console and hugged her tightly. “Poor baby.”

With a lump in her throat and tears suddenly back in her eyes, Therese took comfort from the embrace. No matter how good she felt in Keegan’s arms, sometimes what a woman really needed was a hug and a
poor baby
or two from her best friend.

“I don’t even know where to start,” Carly murmured. “Catherine, Abby, an affair, a baby…” She pushed Therese back and surprised her by smiling. “Keegan’s in love with you. Aw, honey, isn’t it incredible?”

“He only stayed around because he wanted me to take Mariah off his hands.”

Carly waved that away. “The thought occurred to him. Men entertain stupid thoughts all the time. Look at Dane, thinking I wouldn’t want him if I knew he’d lost his leg. Trust me, Keegan isn’t looking to take on responsibility for a teenage girl and a boy who’s almost a teenager just to get someone to help him with his daughter. From what you say, his mama was already doing everything for her.”

That was true. And things had changed between Keegan and Mariah since the first evening he’d brought her to their house. He’d gotten comfortable with her. He was over his fear. He’d fallen in love with her, too.

“I’m so sorry about Paul. Oh, my God, if I found out that Jeff had—” Pressing her lips together, Carly broke off and shook her head.

It would have broken her heart. It should have broken Therese’s heart, too, but she critically examined her emotions. She was hurt. She was angry. She was disappointed in Paul. She was bitter that Sabrina had his child while
she
had waited and lost out. But was she brokenhearted?

She wouldn’t describe it that way. Did she love him any less? No. Did she respect him less? Yes, no doubt. Could she forgive him since his affair had brought Keegan and Mariah into her life?

Yes. Maybe not right this minute, but when the hurt eased, when the shock was past, when she’d had time to get used to the idea.

Settling back in her seat, Carly spied the sandwich, opened it, and took a bite. “And Catherine showing up like that, without calling or anything…I don’t know how you kept from snatching her hair out.”

“As over-bleached as it is, it probably would have broken off in my hands.” At the image of a stubby-haired Catherine, a laugh bubbled inside Therese. “And she’s so thin, I could heave her like a bale of hay, though if she landed on her boobs, all that silicone would make her bounce.”

Carly laughed, too. “It’s hard to imagine the two of you appealing to the same man. You’re so normal, and she’s so odd.”

“Apparently, he wasn’t that choosy.” The next laugh sounded strangled, and Therese pressed her hand to her mouth. “Oh, God, Carly, what if Sabrina wasn’t the only one? What if there are more women? More kids?”

“You have nothing to suggest it happened more than once.”

“I have nothing to suggest it didn’t.” She sighed sadly, wistfully. “I never worried about him being unfaithful. From the very beginning, we were both insistent on an exclusive relationship. I never imagined he would—
Why?
Why would he do that?”

Carly took another bite of her sandwich and chewed it before shrugging. “You’ll drive yourself crazy asking why, because you’ll never know. I doubt even Paul could tell you. It could be as simple as he had too much to drink or as complicated as he had to be unfaithful in order to bring you and Keegan together. Things happen for a reason, sweetie. You’ve heard enough sermons to know that. If God intended you and Keegan and Paul’s three kids to be together at this point in your lives, then He had to get you all here somehow.”

“I can think of easier ways,” Therese muttered, but Carly shook her head.

“If Paul hadn’t slept with Keegan’s girlfriend, you probably never would have met Keegan, and Mariah wouldn’t even exist. Whatever problems they caused, they made a beautiful little girl whom her family adores. Whom Abby adores—and how many people can you say that about? God didn’t promise us easy, sweetie. He just promised He’d help us through.”

Therese blew out her breath heavily. She’d had a good life: loving parents, a stable home, a good education, the ability to take care of herself, the best friends in the world. She’d had a husband who loved her but had betrayed her at least once, and another man who loved her who had hidden the truth of Paul’s betrayal. Before now, Paul’s death and dealing with the kids were the only traumas she’d ever gone through.

And she’d gotten through them, with God’s help, her family’s, her friends’.

The warning bell rang, and Carly stuffed the crusts of her sandwich in the plastic bag and picked up her water. “I wish I could take off, stock up at CaraCakes, and join you for a pity party, but the boss would have a fit. Are you going to be okay?”

Therese nodded. “Sure. I always am.”

Carly hugged her again. “I’m so sorry all this hit at once, but it’s going to work out. I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Therese watched her climb out, then cross the lot in long strides, reaching the door just before the second bell sounded. For a long time, though, she didn’t start the engine. She just sat there, gazing into the distance.

What would have happened if Paul hadn’t died? He would have responded to Sabrina’s e-mails. Therese had no doubt. He would have confessed his affair and done whatever was necessary to be a part of Mariah’s life. He would have asked Therese to forgive him, and she would have. She would have felt all the same emotions she did now, but she would have weighed one mistake, serious as it was, against their love, their marriage, their family. Sabrina wouldn’t have resorted to putting another man’s name on the birth certificate, and Therese never would have met Keegan.

She could bear Paul’s infidelity.

She wasn’t sure she could bear a life without Keegan.

Which led to the next big question: could she bear a life without Abby?

She didn’t have an answer to that one yet, but at least she felt better when she left the school than when she’d arrived. Her stomach wasn’t churning. The butterflies weren’t battering her chest. Though her tears were still far too close to the surface, the sharp edge was gone from her anger. She would never forget, but she could forgive.

She made one stop before going home. Sitting in the driveway, she texted Catherine to come to the house at four.

Can’t. N Tlsa shppng. Wl try 2 make it by 5.

Abby gets out of school at 3:30,
Therese reminded her.

Tld hr 2 take bus 2 ur house. Wl pick hr up there.

Already ducking out on time she could be spending with her kids, and she had the nerve to end the message with a smiley face. Witch.

After a moment’s hesitation, Therese sent a text to Keegan, asking him to come at five. He agreed.

A few hours, and this mess her life had become would straighten out or tangle inextricably. They would all know what their immediate future looked like—and if it would get worse before it got better.

Please, God, give me an answer before then.

It had turned into the day from hell for Jessy.
I hate my job
kept echoing through her head, the words occasionally interrupted by a chorus of
You can’t fix stupid.
Every moronic customer she’d ever had came into the bank, never sitting down at Julia’s desk but always at Jessy’s, and they asked every moronic question in the book. By midafternoon, she had a pounding headache, her stomach was queasy, and the only thing that would help was the sweet oblivion of a drink.

My job is driving me to drink,
she’d often joked. Today her mouth watered at the thought.

An eighteen-year-old girl sat across from her, long bronzed legs crossed, fingers twirling a gold curl, as beautiful as she was empty-headed. She listened while Jessy explained yet again that to spend money from her account, she had to have money
in
the account. Seeing no sign of understanding on the girl’s face, Jessy rubbed her temple to ease the pain.

“But my daddy will cover it,” the girl replied yet again, clearly bored with the conversation. “He always does. So give back my debit card.”

“Sundrae—” Jessy covertly checked the computer screen to make sure she had the girl’s name right. What the hell kind of name was Sundrae? “Your debit card was retained by the ATM at a gas station in Stillwater. We don’t have it here.”

“So get me a new one.”

“That’ll take two to four weeks.”

Sundrae looked appalled. “What the hell am I supposed to do for money the next two weeks?”

“The next two to four weeks. Use cash or checks. After you’ve deposited funds into your account.”

The girl snorted, reminding Jessy of Therese’s stepdaughter. This was what Abby would be like in five years if she went back to live with her mother. Snide, derisive, and shallow, though Jessy was pretty sure Abby’s IQ was currently about a hundred points higher than Sundrae’s. The brat was probably releasing brain cells into the atmosphere every time she tugged on that perfectly colored, perfectly spiraled curl. “Nobody uses cash or checks. I don’t even have any checks.”

“We have forms at the service counter you can use. Would you like me to show you how to fill them out?”

“No. I’d like you to get off your ass and get me a new debit card, and if you’re too stupid to manage that, then get me someone who can.”

Jessy’s fingers curled tightly, her nails biting into her palms. “Excuse me?” she asked, frigidly polite.

Sundrae leaned forward in one sinuous movement, meant to be threatening, but it was hard to feel threatened by a spoiled, snot-nosed teenage brat with the intellect of a slug. “My daddy has all his business and personal accounts here. He’s on the board of your freaking bank. He’s your boss. Get me a new debit card now, or I’ll have your job.”

“You couldn’t do my job.” If Jessy weren’t feeling so crappy, it would have amused her to watch the slug try to process her response. But she’d had her fill of rude, stupid, and/or demanding people. “Now if you don’t mind getting off
your
ass, I’ve got other customers to help.”

Sundrae’s jaw dropped so low, Jessy was surprised it didn’t hit the desk. Her nostrils flared, her heavily mascaraed eyes widened practically enough to pop out her contact lenses, then her mouth started working fishlike as she tried to form words. Finally, with an outraged gasp, she rose to her full five-foot-ten-inch height and stalked away.

Not to the exit, of course. Jessy couldn’t be that lucky, not on this Thursday from hell. No, Sundrae’s heels—another set of killer high-dollar shoes that would look damn good on Jessy—were tapping along the wide swath of marble that led to the executive offices. This wasn’t going to be pretty. While being stupid would certainly be an acceptable excuse for Sundrae’s behavior in the boss’s opinion, it wasn’t acceptable for Jessy’s. She would definitely get counseled for this.

God, she hated this job.

And that was probably a good thing. Thirty minutes later, after Mrs. Dauterive had been summoned to the president’s office and while Sundrae watched with a smug, malicious smile, for the first time in her life, Jessy Lawrence got fired.

Keegan arrived right on time. Therese wasn’t surprised; most soldiers had a keen sense of punctuality. They’d hardly had a chance to even look at each other, much less speak—though she registered the concern in his eyes, the regret, the love—when Catherine’s rental car glided to the curb out front. What a surprise that she could pull herself away from buying new pretties for herself just to take care of a pesky bit of family business.

“Is Abby home from school?” Mariah asked, peering through the door, drawing Therese’s attention to her. Paul’s daughter. Keegan’s daughter. She would never know her father-by-birth, but she would always know the love of her father-by-choice. That was a more than fair trade.

“She is, sweetie. Upstairs in her room.”

Mariah dashed inside, her little legs making short work of the stairs. Therese watched until she turned the corner, then looked back at Catherine. She’d changed outfits since that morning, wearing a dress so crisp and fresh, it shrieked,
Brand new!
So did the leopard-print sandals with heels far beyond practical or even sexy, and she sported an entirely different set of rings, earrings, bangles, and necklaces that were approximately four times as numerous as one person should wear at a time.