Flirting with Texas (Deep in the Heart of Texas) (27 page)

“Only as long as you want.” Minnie smoothed back a wayward strand of hair. “This night is about your desires. Your wants and needs.”

“And if I want to leave the moment I see him?”

Minnie studied her. “For some reason, I don’t think that’s going to happen. But if you should, that’s your choice. I’ve never forced a hen to do something they
didn’t want to, and I never will. Now stand up and let me get a look at you.”

Marcy waited for Minnie to back her wheelchair up before she pushed back the vanity chair and stood.

Minnie smiled her approval. “Just like I thought. Virginal white is your color.”

Snorting, Marcy slapped at the full skirt of the beautiful white gown. “If he lives within fifty miles, he’s not going to be fooled by this get-up. You should’ve let me wear my own clothes and makeup. At least then, he’d know what he was getting.”

“I think he knows exactly what he’s getting—a beautiful woman with a heart of gold.” The sincerity of Minnie’s words had Marcy looking away.

“Yeah, well, I always knew you were blind as a bat.” She hesitated for only a moment before adding, “I was real sorry to hear about your cancer.” She wondered where the tears came from that burned the back of her eyes. They seemed silly since she’d only known the woman for a couple weeks. She covered the uncharacteristic emotion with her normal belligerence. “I guess it’s true what they say: Life is hell and then you die.”

“Oh, Marcy,” Minnie said, “whoever came up with that
was
as blind as a bat. Life isn’t hell; it’s a journey. A wonderful, breathtaking journey. Yes, there will be bumps along the way. And more than a few times, you’ll find yourself down in a ditch that looks so deep you think you’ll never get out. Some folks like to stay in the ditch. They like to moan and groan about how hard life is and blame all their troubles on other people. Little do they know that in the time they spent complainin’ they could have been out of the ditch and standing on top of the mountain.”

She reached out and took Marcy’s hand. “All of us have made mistakes in our lives. All of us have been so angry at what life dealt us that we do things we regret. But that’s the wonderful thing about livin’—a mistake you make one second will be in the past the next.” Her direct eyes seemed to drill straight through Marcy. “It’s this second you have to worry about. This second you need to make the right decision.”

“And what if I’ve been making the wrong decisions for so long that I don’t know what the right ones are?” she said.

Minnie squeezed her hand. “You’ll know in your heart. All you need to do is listen. Now dry those eyes and go make me and all the hens proud.”

Not more than five minutes later, Marcy was standing outside the door to Miss Hattie’s room. Her heart pounded like a bass drum, and her palm was slick with sweat when she reached for the pretty crystal doorknob. But before she turned it, she paused.

This second.

Minnie’s words came back to her. Marcy only had this second to make the right decision. At one time, she had thought the right decision had been to do whatever she needed to do to get her mother well. And she still wanted to achieve that goal. But suddenly she realized that she couldn’t do it by sacrificing herself. Suddenly, she realized that she wasn’t expendable just because she’d made some mistakes in her life.

Marcy Henderson mattered. And because she mattered, she needed to make the right decision, not just for her mother, but also for herself.

Twisting the knob, she pulled open the door and
stepped inside. The room was dimly lit. The only light came from pillar candles on the dresser and long tapered candles on the white-clothed table that had been set up in front of the fireplace.

A man stood at the window with his back to Marcy. Unlike the other day, she recognized him immediately. But this time, she wasn’t nearly as happy to see him.

“So you finally decided to take me up on my offer?” she said as she closed the door behind her.

Sean turned. Gone were the tropical shirt and baggy shorts. Tonight, he looked like the preacher he was, in black pants and a dress shirt. He looked nervous, his eyes uncertain and wary. Marcy didn’t feel nervous. Just sad. She tried to cover it with attitude, but her attitude deserted her.

“So how much did you pay for all this?” she waved a hand around. “Miss Hattie’s room doesn’t come cheap.” She spread out the skirt of her dress before glancing over at the covered dishes on the table. “Especially with add-ons.”

He watched her, much as he had done the other day. But this time, his eyes didn’t devour her. Instead, they rested on her as if she was some vision he couldn’t quite believe.

“You look beautiful,” he said.

She ignored the leap of her heart. “It’s not really my style.” She moved over to the table. “Minnie seems bent on portraying me as the sacrificial virgin.”

“And aren’t you?” Sean stepped closer, bringing with him the scent of sunshine that always followed him.

For a brief second, her hand halted in midair before she reached down and lifted one of the silver-domed lids.
Marcy stared at the food artfully arranged on the pretty china, but she was too consumed with the man who moved up behind her to know what she was looking at.

“Only an idiot would think that,” she whispered.

“No, only an idiot would think that you needed saving.” He touched her arm, but she refused to turn around. His hand dropped back to his side. “I’m sorry for making that mistake. I guess I was so blinded by gossip that I couldn’t see the truth.” When she didn’t say anything, he released his breath. “Would you please look at me, Marcy? I’m trying to apologize.”

She turned, but refused to look him in the eyes. There was something about his eyes that made her forget who she was—who he was. “There’s nothing to apologize for. I’m the one who made the mistake.”

“And do you think it was a mistake?” His voice had a desperate edge to it.

Marcy lifted her gaze. “I can’t be a prostitute, Sean. Not for you. Not for anyone.”

He closed his eyes and tipped his face toward the ceiling, a slight smile curving the corners of his mouth. After a long moment, he opened his eyes and focused on Marcy. “I didn’t invite you here to go to bed with me. I invited you here to give you this.” He pulled an envelope out of his back pocket and handed it to her. It wasn’t sealed, but she couldn’t bring herself to open it.

“It’s a check for thirty thousand dollars,” he said, “made out to your mother’s rehabilitation facility. I know it won’t cover everything, but I figure it will last for a while.”

“I won’t take charity.” She shoved the envelope back at him. “Or is this a bribe to keep me from telling people
what happened between us? Sort of like thirty pieces of silver?”

“Damn it, woman!” He shook the envelope at her. “Would you quit being so pigheaded and accept some help?”

Marcy’s eyes widened. “Did you just cuss?”

He looked at her with complete frustration. “Yes, I damn well cussed.” Tossing the envelope on the table, he picked up the bottle of wine and took a long swallow before he wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand. “And I’ve been known to drink from time to time.” He grabbed her around the waist and whirled her across the Oriental rug. “And I dance.” He stopped suddenly. “And kiss pretty girls.” He dipped his head and brushed his lips briefly across Marcy’s. “Because as much as you think I’m some kind of an untouchable saint, Marcy, I’m a human being. A human being with needs and desires like any other human being.”

His hands tightened on her waist. “What I’m trying to say is that we’re not that different,” he whispered in a voice so achingly sweet that tears gathered in her eyes. “We both feel pain.” He took one of her hands and pressed it to his chest. “We both cry.” He kissed the tear that trickled down her cheek. “And we both need love.”

His lips moved over hers. She expected them to be as gentle as they’d been before. Instead, they were hot and demanding. He lifted her completely off her feet as he plundered her mouth. When he had kissed her senseless, he lifted his head.

“I’m a flesh and blood man, Marcy Henderson.” He smiled, his eyes brimming with tears. “A flesh and blood man who has fallen head over heels in love with you.”

For a moment, Marcy was too stunned to do anything
but stare back at him. All her life she had waited for someone to say those words to her, and she just couldn’t quite believe her ears.

“You love me?” she said. “But you can’t love me. Everyone knows that I’m the biggest—”

He placed a finger over her lips. “Heart in Bramble, Texas. It doesn’t matter to me who you were. All that matters to me is who you are. And to me, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met—inside and out.”

“Oh, Sean!” She flung her arms around his neck, and they tumbled back to Miss Hattie’s bed.

The desire they’d worked so hard to ignore came bubbling back to the surface, thick and rich and hot. One heated kiss turned into another as they learned the shape and feel of one another’s bodies. When Marcy reached for the button on Sean’s pants, he stopped her.

“You don’t have a clue how much I want you, Miss Henderson,” he panted out. “But as fleshly as I’m feeling right now, I think we need to wait.”

“Why?” Marcy leaned up and smiled down on him. “I promise I’ll still respect you in the morning.”

He laughed, a deep, husky laugh that touched her heart and her very soul. “Well, I appreciate that. But as much as I want to make love to you, I have a responsibility to my congregation. And I can’t very well tell them to wait until they’re married if I can’t.”

Marcy’s smile slipped. “Married? You want to marry me?”

“Did you think that I’d tell you I love you and not want to spend the rest of my life with you?”

“I-I didn’t know.” She sat up. “But Sean, you can’t marry me. It could ruin your career here in Bramble.”

“I’ve already been offered a position in California.” He sat up next to her and took her hands. “We could move from Bramble and start fresh. No one in California would know anything about our pasts.” He brought her fingers to his mouth and kissed each one. “Or we could stay right here in Bramble and see what happens.” He lowered her hand, his expression solemn. “It won’t be easy, Marcy. There will be gossip. And I’m afraid most of it will be centered on you. Because of that, I want you to make the decision.”

Marcy was stunned. No man had ever asked her opinion, let alone let her make a decision on something this big. A part of her wanted to start fresh in another state that knew nothing about her. But there was another part, a part that she had just discovered, that wanted to see if she could continue to love herself without going anywhere.

It was that part that won out.

“Haven’t you heard, Preacher Man? There’s no place like home.”

“Well?” Minnie asked as Starlet came back into the room. “What happened? Did the saint or the sinner win?”

“It was hard to hear in Miss Hattie’s closet,” Starlet said as she reached for one of Baby’s chocolate chip cookies. “But I’d say that they both won. Although I don’t think they’ll be using the bed as you’d hoped. When I peeked out, it looked as if they were sitting cross-legged on the bed praying.”

Minnie smiled. “And that’s even better.”

“W
ELL, WOULD YOU LOOK AT
what the cat dragged in,” Minnie greeted Jenna and Beau as they walked in the back door of Miss Hattie’s. There was a knowing look on her face and a sparkle of happiness in her eyes. “So where have you two been keepin’ yourselves?”

Tired of beating around the bush, Jenna cut straight to the chase. “We’ve been out to see Olive.” She shot a glance over at Marcy, who was standing next to Baby at the counter, but Marcy didn’t react to the name. She just kept peeling potatoes with her eyes glazed over and a smile pinned on her face.

But the name did get a reaction out of Minnie.

“Marcy,” she said, “why don’t you show Beau that leaky faucet in the Daring Delilah bathroom and see if he can’t do something about it?”

While Marcy rinsed off her hands, Beau leaned in and whispered to Jenna, “Don’t let the old gal get the best of you, Blondie.” He tagged her on the butt before following Marcy out of the kitchen.

When they were gone, Baby glanced between Jenna
and Minnie, her eyes huge behind her thick glasses. “I think I’ll just go get the toolbox.” She set down her knife and scurried after Beau and Marcy, her high heels clicking on the linoleum.

Minnie continued playing the game of solitaire that was spread out on the kitchen table. “I figure you’ve got more than a few things on your mind.”

That was an understatement. Ever since talking with Olive, Jenna’s mind had felt like an overfilled shopping cart.

“Why did you lie to me?”

Minnie took her time answering, shifting a column of cards and moving a king to the empty slot. “Now, I don’t know that I’d call it lying.”

“What would you call it?” Jenna sat down in one of the kitchen chairs. “You let me go on believing that I was Olive Washburn’s daughter and all along it was Marcy Henderson.”

Minnie glanced over at the doorway. “Keep your voice down. I don’t want Marcy overhearing you.”

“Why not? I think she has a right to know who her mother is.”

Minnie snorted. “You’re all about what’s right and what’s wrong, aren’t you, Jenna Jay? To you, black is black and white is white. But sometimes there are gray areas. Sometimes the right thing can mean doing something that someone else might think is wrong. For example, some folks might see keeping a secret as lying. I see it as letting things play out the way they should. Marcy Henderson doesn’t need to know who her mama is. Not yet, anyway. Not when she’s just started to acknowledge her own worth—her own value.”

The truth dawned on Jenna, and she pointed a finger at Minnie. “Marcy was who you were talking to Moses about. You invited her to the henhouse, just like you did me.”

“Not quite. You got an invitation. Marcy thought she was coming for a job. Although the job she had in mind wasn’t exactly the job I had in mind.”

Jenna sat back in the chair, her mind feverishly trying to fit everything together. It didn’t take long. “So Marcy thought you hired her as a prostitute?” She stared at Minnie in disbelief. “And you let her go on believing that?”