Mom in the Middle (15 page)

She crept backward, a glint of playful trepidation in her brown eyes. “Don't do it, Guy Hardy,” she warned.

He matched her motions, easing forward as she eased back. He fixed her with a beguiling smile. “We can do this the hard way and make a lot of fuss that the people way over there will notice, or you can stand still and take it like the cowgirl you claim to be.”

She stood her ground, didn't move. Her eyes narrowed. The muscles in her jaw flexed with determination and Sarah Reagan's daughter stood before him as stubborn as a borrowed mule. At that moment it was not difficult to envision Abby as a champion barrel racer.

Ahhhh, he was seeing a new dimension. He'd never issued a challenge to her before, assuming that was not her style. Why, she'd even baited him moments earlier with her question about Casey's steamrolling. Seemed Abby had the force of some heavy equipment in her makeup after all.

“Tell you what.” He decided to test her a bit. “You let me see just how tough you are and you can call payback anytime it suits you.”

She threaded both hands through her blond hair, pressed it high atop her head, exposing the fair skin of her neck. “Bring it on, Alexander Theodore Guy,” she whispered, then closed her eyes and angled her head in coy submission.

The offering of her lovely throat stirred his senses, shook his resolve not to initiate another kiss. Maybe he could risk a small one on that neck so artfully etched with character and strength by the Creator's own hand.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” she interrupted his thought. The question and the mirth in her voice were meant to tease, to find out if he'd started something he had no intention of finishing.

This time he was the one glancing around to ensure the moment was a private one. With nobody in sight, he stepped close, reached out with the melting chunk of ice, held it several inches above the skin where he was so tempted to press his lips and let cold droplets fall.

She shivered at the contact, tensed and then relaxed. Gooseflesh prickled on either side of her spine as the moisture drizzled downward to disappear beneath the collar of her pale blue oxford-cloth cotton shirt.

He closed his fingers around the ice, the warmth of his hand turning the drips to a steady trickle.

“Mmmmmmm, that's actually very nice,” Abby
admitted. She pressed her shoulders back, permitting entry of the rivulet that traced her spine, a darkening streak of dampness.

“That's not supposed to be your response.”

“I know. Not what you expected, huh?”

“Not even close,” he admitted. “Where are the screams, the struggles, the threats of payback?”

“You're about eight years too late for that. The stables where I worked in high school were pretty spartan. In the summer a cup of ice was the only way to cool off unless you wanted to take a dip in the horse trough.” She raised her head, light flashing in her cocoa-brown eyes. “Sorry to disappoint you on the screams and struggles, but I'll definitely take you up on the payback when you least expect it.”

“Then I might as well get my money's worth.” He dropped the chunk of ice down the neck of her shirt, pressed his hand over the lump it made where it settled at the waistband of her jeans and ground the chill into the small of her back.

He was rewarded with a whoop of laughter and an effort to squirm away. He caught her around the middle, wrapped her tight and pulled her against him.

“Oh no you don't,” he laughed, enjoying the horseplay.

At the precise moment he'd intended to release her so she could fish the ice cube from beneath her shirt, Abby tipped her head back. She looked up into his face, then closed her eyes as if giving him control. Giving him permission.

He stared down. As motionless and dense as the fence post they'd been leaning against. Without a thought for propriety or permission, he dipped his face and covered her sweet mouth with his.

W
ith her eyes tightly closed to ease the wild reality that was Guy's kiss, Abby's mind was a whirlwind of senses. The prickle of a half day's whiskers where his mouth met hers, the uncontrollable thumping of hearts pressed close, the small sighs they exchanged.

And the physical sensations were accompanied by a blur of questions.
Will Guy see this as another mistake? Am I a fool to care for a man who has no intention of returning my love?
And the most important question nagged the loudest.
Why is God giving me this glimpse of healing and love when He's only going to take it away again?

Her confusion over God's role in her pain deepened along with the kiss. How could there be so much pleasure mingled with fears of hurting? And why would the loving heavenly Father allow it in the same way He'd allowed Phillip to be taken from her?

Phillip.

She pulled away, stared into unforgettable azure-blue eyes that held no inkling of remorse, no signs of regret for the kiss.

Guy leaned down, pressed his forehead to hers and uttered a single word. “What?”

There were a thousand possible answers. Which response was she bold enough to give?

“Do you think it's wrong—”

“No,” he interrupted, cutting her off with another brief kiss. “This is not wrong, Abby and it's not a mistake. As a matter of fact, it may be the most right thing I've ever done. God seems to be leading me someplace I never meant to go. I've spent the last twenty years of my life wanting women to move on as soon as they made an effort to sink roots with me. And now I understand how they felt.” He gave her lips yet another whisper-soft kiss. “Is that the answer you wanted to hear?”

She couldn't hold back a small smile at the unexpected confession.

“Actually, that wasn't going to be my question at all.” She noted the quick intake of his breath as he realized his mistake. Was he sorry he'd tipped his hand?

“But thanks for sharing,” she continued. “Actually, I was wondering if it's wrong to care for a man when you promised your heart to another forever.”

Guy's forehead still touched hers, but he turned his face slightly, averted his eyes.

They were pressed so closely that she felt the change in Guy right away. It was as if the wind had
abandoned his sails. She heard him exhale, felt the warm rush of breath against her cheek.

 

Forever.
She'd given her heart away forever.

He was falling deeper and deeper in love with Abby Cramer and it was a foolish waste of time. Why on earth and under heaven had God led him to a love that was unattainable?

“I realize I should be able to give you an older and wiser perspective, Abby.” The statement was meant to sound ironic, instead it was just sad to his ears. “The fact is I haven't experienced what you have, so I don't think I'm the one to give you counsel on that particular subject. But after thirty-eight years on this planet what I do know for sure is that loss is part of life and life still manages to go on. Hearts heal, we get blessed with second chances and if we're living in God's will we sometimes find the next love is sweeter.”

Abby straightened, dropped her hands to her sides and took a step back. A step away from his embrace, as if she was finished with the moment. Finished with him.

“That's what Mama and Daddy keep telling me.”

“Well, from what I've seen they're pretty smart folks.”

“Yeah, and they've had each other for almost fifty years. What do they know about loss?”

He reached for her hand, pulled her close.

“Maybe it's not my place to remind you of this, Abby, but the day we laid the new laundry-room
tile, Shorty told me that they lost several babies before they were blessed with you. I'd say they know quite a lot about losing something precious and having the next love be sweeter for the surviving, wouldn't you?”

She ducked her head.

“How shameful that I've never thought of it that way. And how embarrassing.”

“I wouldn't call it shameful. You've simply lacked their personal perspective, just like I lack yours. But as long as you learn from it, don't you think God would want you to forgive yourself? I certainly think you should.”

As he stroked the pad of his thumb lightly across the back of her soft hand, he couldn't help but wonder if in giving Abby absolution he was really saying it was okay for him to accept the same pardon. His insistence on having relationships his way or no way was certainly much more to be ashamed of than what this kindhearted young woman had done. What an illustration of the difference in their thinking that she felt guilty as soon as she recognized the behavior while he had spent years feeling justified.

Until today.

“You asked me a question. I'd like to answer it if you'll look at me.”

She raised her eyes but kept her face downcast.

“No, that's not good enough.” He put his index finger beneath her chin, tipped her head back. “Much
better. While I still have you all to myself for a few minutes I want to see your beautiful face.”

He'd come to know the slight tilt of her blond head and the squint of her eyes that said she wasn't sure she deserved a compliment. He would gladly fork over any amount of money to change that.

“You asked if it's right to care for another when you've given your heart away.”

She nodded.

“Let me answer you this way. Each time your mother carried a new life I feel certain she gave her whole heart to that unborn child. And each time the promise of that life ended she must have felt some piece of herself die along with it.”

The brown depths glistened.

“Don't you think that's probably true? Even for somebody as tough as the Admiral?”

Abby smiled and nodded, as he'd hoped she would.

He squeezed her hand, a reassurance. “But all that pain hasn't kept her from loving you desperately, even if she's not the most adept person at showing it. I've spent hours sitting with your dad beside Sarah's bed these past weeks hearing the stories of your life that Shorty's already shared in great detail.”

“Why didn't you stop her?” Abby scrunched her pretty ash-blond brows together in dismay.

“That never even crossed my mind. I just pretended I was hearing every single word for the first time so she'd keep talking, entertaining your father. It was adorable to watch the two of them.”

Abby rolled her eyeballs and tried without success to pull her hands free. “Guy, you poor thing. How boring for you to be captive to her lectures.” Sympathy was etched in Abby's tone.

He chuckled at her discomfort. “Quite the contrary. I know a little something about the love and pride a mother has for a daughter. Abby, that pride is undeniable in Sarah when she talks about you. Shorty may believe you're his baby girl, but I guarantee the woman who carried you next to her heart for those nine months is the one who knows it for certain.”

Abby's mouth popped open and rounded into a kissable pink O that made him want to touch his lips to hers again. But he didn't dare until he'd finished what he'd started.

“I got a bit off track, but my point is this. It's not only natural, it's part of God's healing process to love again. And to want to
kiss
again.” He winked to lighten the serious moment. “Even when that first, precious commitment has ended in death.”

She was still for so long that Guy feared he might have blown it. Then she reached with her free hand for the cup holding the melting ice. He gave it to her.

“That's kinda what Casey said to me.”

“Really. When was that?”

She pressed her lips together but her eyes sparkled with some secret humor. “Oh, in the same conversation when she told me what a notorious ladies' man you are.”

It was his turn to be mortified over family
musings. “Please, don't keep me in suspense. What wisdom could the Warden possibly have on the subject of recovering from loss?”

“She said God was mending my heart and that it might even be time for me to consider dating again.”

He'd throttle Casey for sure over that suggestion! Better yet, he'd send the little troublemaker to Galveston on Monday to spend eight hours filing permits at the courthouse. It was a chore generally delegated to a college intern. But his busybody sister was about to earn some of her obscene salary standing in a long line while she considered her meddling ways.

“Is that a fact?”

“Yes, it is. And here comes possibility right now.”

She pointed across the way where colorful rigs destined for the Luedecke Arena were lined up to enter the Expo Center. “That red gooseneck with the Rockin' R emblem is owned by a guy I used to rodeo with, Garrett Ramsey. He's quite the steer-roping champ these days. I've always admired the way that man sits a horse.”

Guy noted the approval in her voice, longed to believe she felt something like that about him. He kicked at a dirt clod with a fancy boot that had never seen the inside of a barn, let alone the inside of a stirrup. It had been a long time since he'd felt the need to compete on any level with another man. At least this one was flesh and blood and not a loving memory, so the playing field was level.

Sort of. How did a drugstore cowboy, as Shorty was so fond of calling him, compete with the real thing? Especially when Real Thing was probably a dozen years younger? Guy rubbed his hand over his head, felt his thinning crown, knew there had to be another way to rope that doggy. And hopefully a way that wouldn't put him in a body cast!

“Do you think you can contain your excitement long enough to join me for a barbecue sandwich?”

“Sure,” she agreed. “Just lead the way.”

Intent on having Abby's undivided attention once again, he pulled her along in the direction of the food tents. A splash of icy water made contact with the back of his H&H shirt, seeped through the fabric and plastered it to his skin. He hunched his shoulders and sucked in his breath.

“Oh, did I mention I was calling payback?” Abby asked as laughter erupted from the core of her body and bubbled up like a natural spring. Even as gooseflesh prickled everywhere the water clung, Guy had to admit that the sound of her joy was without doubt one of the sweetest he'd ever heard.

 

“How cool is it that all those smokin' hot cowboys showed up today?” Casey balanced Dillon on one hip with her elbow crooked expertly around him. Abby marveled at her son, completely at ease in this place crowded with strangers, having no need at the moment for his mama's comfort. Casey's other arm was raised, her hand shielding her eyes against the
midday glare of the sun while she focused on the long stream of pickup trucks and horse trailers winding their way through the entry gate.

“Casey, my dear, you have a couple hundred guests to attend to. Worry about men crazy enough to sit bareback on mean broncs another day.”

“Mrs. Reagan, I'd normally defer to an older woman's recommendation especially when she's accustomed to giving orders and having them followed.” She winked at Abby's mother. “Not unlike myself.” The two were definitely chiseled from the same granite. “But it's not every day that I find myself a stone's throw from a bunch of guys in boots and jeans who want nothing more than eight seconds on a filly whose primary objection is to trample a Stetson in the dirt!”

“Young lady, you're in Austin, Texas,” Shorty said, joining the conversation. “In these parts ropers and riders are as rampant as fire ants and most of 'em are every bit as poor. When those rangy cowpokes find out you're the daughter of the Hearth and Home legacy, they will be after you like bored bulls to a new salt lick.” He cackled at his own humor.

Abby's parents sat side by side beneath an aluminum awning, both wheelchairs locked in the safety position, their hands clasped across the few inches that separated them. She watched and listened with distracted interest while she polished off the plate of sliced beef brisket, creamy coleslaw and tangy mustard potato salad that Guy had graciously prepared.
He'd been such a sport, shaking off her prank with a shiver and a laugh.

She scanned the area, teeming with activity and lively conversation, wondering where Guy had disappeared to. He'd delivered her lunch and excused himself.

“Now, go attend to your employees and their families like the good hostess I'm certain your mother raised. Trust me when I tell you those cowboys will make their own entertainment, they always do,” Sarah said, continuing to give orders disguised as advice.

“I may have to find out for myself what sort of entertainment those handsome daredevils make, if you know what I mean.” Casey nudged Shorty's foot with her own, and got the conspiratorial grin she seemed to expect.

Abby watched the interaction between her family members and Casey. Where it might have seemed intrusive only weeks ago, today it was amusing, even welcome. If this was what it felt like to have a sister, having five must be amazing.

“Casey, would you give somebody else the opportunity to spoil Dillon and come with me for a while, please?”

Guy's voice sent a surge of pleasant jitters through Abby. She turned about-face in time to catch him jerk his head in a motion that told his sister to join him, and the serious look in his eyes telegraphed urgency. “I need your help with something we didn't
anticipate when we arranged this place as our backup site. Now we have a few unexpected decisions to make about this evening's festivities so I need you for about an hour.”

Casey strode immediately to Abby's side and planted a loud smacky kiss on Dillon's cheek before handing him over.

“Not a problem, bro.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Abby kept her gaze on Guy as she stroked the silky curls on her son's head, then settled him on his feet to toddle off contentedly.