Spring at Saddle Run Page 7

  Joe mentally repeated another shit. His baby girl was thirteen, nowhere near the age where she should be interested in lace bras and panties.

  Was she?

  He definitely didn’t want to think about that. But he should. Crap on crutches. Dara was barely a teenager but she must have needed a bra. Damn sure not a lacy one with matching panties, but some kind of support, and she likely hadn’t wanted to go to him for that.

  “Bra and panties,” Millie confirmed, making a ticking mark in the air, while continuing to read. “And you want to eat lunch at Taco Cabana in San Antonio?”

  Dara nodded. “It was my mom’s and my favorite place. I don’t want to have to take Dad there because it might make him think of her, and he’ll get all down and stuff.”

  The punch he got from that felt like a dozen sacks of bricks smacking into him. Because it was true.

  Judging from Millie’s next sigh, she knew all about such places getting her all down and stuff. “Are you sure you want to do these things with me?” she asked. “Wouldn’t you rather do them with your aunt Frankie?”

  “I love Aunt Frankie, but you’re like neutral. You wouldn’t get too wild with the shopping or the makeup. And you wouldn’t think of my mom while eating fajitas and then be all down. If Aunt Frankie gets down, my dad will know right away.”

  Millie swallowed hard, making Joe believe that she would indeed be thinking about Ella. Then again, maybe she’d do that with or without fajitas.

  “All right,” Millie finally said. “I could do all of this with you, but you’d first have to get your dad’s permission. Sorry, that’s not negotiable,” she added when Dara groaned. “You don’t have to tell him about Taco Cabana. Or that you want new underwear. But he would need to give his permission for me to take you on a shopping trip.”

  Dara groaned again. Huffed. Groaned again. “Okay. I’ll figure out a way to ask him, but he’ll probably want to talk to you.”

  “That’s fine,” Millie assured her, but the look on her face said that it was anything but fine. “Get his permission, and I can take you this weekend.”

  That perked Dara right up. Unlike Millie, he couldn’t see Dara’s expression, but she made a little happy squeal. “Great.” She handed Millie two more sheets of paper. “That’s the first of the stories about Mom that you can use for your research. I’ll do others. This is just to get you started.”

  That jabbed into him even harder than the lace bra deal. Stories about Ella. That Millie would read and then write up for everyone to read. He had to stop this now. There’d be no shopping trip. He’d figure out another way for Dara to do those things on her list.

  Joe got moving toward the office, but he stopped in his tracks again when Dara added, “Now to the part about you doing something to fix my dad.” She put her hands on her hips. “I think you’re going to have to kiss him.”

  He was reasonably sure he couldn’t have spoken a word had there been a loaded gun at his head. Dumbfounded, that was the right word for what was happening to him. Why the heck would Dara believe Millie would need to kiss him? Why had this subject even come up?

  “Sir,” someone said. It was the clerk. The same one with the pierced eyebrow who’d greeted Joe earlier. “Would you like for me to let Millie know you’re waiting to see her?”

  While Joe was still trying to get his mouth to work, he glanced in the office. At Dara who had turned and was looking at him. At Millie, who was also looking at him. Except they weren’t just looking. They were all staring at each other with wide eyes and mouths agape, and it was pretty clear they had already figured out that he’d heard way too much of their private conversation.

  * * *

  “DAD?” DARA BLURTED out at the same moment that Millie got to her feet and said, “Joe?”

  It was a toss-up as to who was more surprised at that moment, but Millie thought Joe might win that particular prize. He looked both gobsmacked and guilty, and Millie figured that’s because he’d followed his daughter into the shop and overheard, well, plenty.

  Monte, who was nobody’s fool, must have decided he didn’t want to be in the middle of this so he gave Millie a little wave, muttered that he had something to do, and he made a fast exit. There was a chance he’d try to eavesdrop. Nobody’s fool didn’t mean he wasn’t nosy, but Monte would probably keep any gossip he unearthed to himself.

  “Dad,” Dara repeated. She was looking gobsmacked, too, but also embarrassed. She was probably wondering how much of the lacy bra comments her father had heard. Again, Millie was betting plenty.

  Millie had to hand it to Joe though. He shed the stunned reaction fairly fast, and he didn’t jump straight into trying to defend himself. “I saw your grandmother, and she mentioned you’d come here to the shop. I was worried about you since you usually go home right after school.”

  He might have fudged the truth with the worried bit, but Millie suspected there was some of that going on inside him. Along with curiosity and yes, some anger that his daughter was here to help with the research—and the bucket list stuff, too. Millie wasn’t certain how Joe was dealing with his daughter wanting to exclude him from all of this, but he might be hurt that Dara hadn’t trusted him enough to bare her teenage soul to him.

  “I want to help her,” Dara said. Not in defiance. This was more like a plea. “I want the stories about Mom to be right.” She paused, lowered her head. “And I don’t want you to take me shopping at Sassy Silk.”

  Millie winced. Joe might have backed off of not wanting the research. Might have. But saying Sassy Silk to the father of a teenager was probably akin to waving a red flag in front of a bull. A very protective bull.

  “The shop doesn’t just sell risqué underwear,” Millie quickly pointed out. Well, she’d responded quickly after she’d come up with alternative words to sexy and screw wear. “I’ve bought some things there for myself.”

  In hindsight, she should have taken a moment to come up with an alternative way of saying that, too. But hopefully Joe would believe that she’d bought panties and bras there that were suitable for her Millie Vanilla name.

  “Please,” was all Dara said, and Millie realized that was the most effective argument of all.

  Joe sighed. Then, he nodded. He didn’t add any conditions. No concerns about how all of this would play out. Just the nod that caused Dara to squeal with delight. She ran to him, and Joe caught her in a bear hug.

  “You ready to go?” he asked, adding a kiss to the top of her head.

  Dara pulled back. “I’m meeting Bella at the library so we can work on our science project, remember? Her mom is giving me a ride to Aunt Frankie’s afterwards because you said I could spend the night.”

  He nodded as if just recalling that, and Dara must have taken that nod as her cue to go. She rattled off a thanks to both Millie and her dad before she headed out.

  Leaving Joe and Millie alone.

  “Don’t worry,” she said, stepping out of her office to join him. “I’ll steer Dara toward the more conservative section in Sassy Silk.”

  “Can you steer her away from boys while you’re at it?” he grumbled. “Or maybe find a section in Sassy Silk that sells chastity belts?”

  Millie nearly laughed. She hadn’t remembered her own dad balking about this, but then, she had rarely given her folks any balking material.

  “I think Dara’s sensible,” Millie tried to assure him. She followed his gaze to the papers Dara had given her. Info about Ella. “And determined.”

  “Yeah.” Dragging in a long breath, he turned and swept his gaze over the nearby shelves. “I don’t want you to feel pressured into taking Dara shopping. Or for that matter, doing anything else with her. Frankie would be glad to help.”

  “I know she would, but I don’t mind taking her.”

  Did she? It was so rote for Millie to go with the polite “don’t make waves” app
roach that sometimes she wasn’t sure how she truly felt. There was the worry of stirred up memories. A big worry. But there was no way she would back out of taking Dara, not when she’d told her she would.

  Joe took another glance at the papers, perhaps debating if he wanted to do some memory stirring of his own, but then he turned toward the table that was only a few feet from her office door.

  “It’s one of the True or False displays,” she explained. “My sales assistants, Haylee and Monte, choose items from storage, write a description and then let the shoppers decide if it’s true or false. We won’t ever run out of items because most of the top floor is filled with stuff. My grandmother loved to buy things for the shop.”

  For this particular display, Monte and Haylee had chosen one of her favorites. A small leather black case that contained several small vials with dried herbs, a dog-eared Bible and a simple cross necklace. Haylee had written, “A set given to a Victorian nun on the day she took her vows to her order. True or false?”

  Joe looked at her. “True?”

  “False.” Millie smiled. She turned over the card to show him the answer. “It’s actually a nineteenth-century kit to ward off vampires.”

  He eyed the items again, shook his head. “Too bad you don’t have one to ward off that Ian Donnelly boy from Dara.”

  Her smile widened, and she went to give him a reassuring, “you’ll get through this” pat on the arm, but she nearly patted him with the papers instead. She had no idea how much two pages actually weighed, but they suddenly felt like a ton in her hand. Without looking at anything Dara had written, she offered them to him.

  “I wouldn’t put anything in the research report that you wouldn’t want to be there,” she said.

  Joe took his time, studying her, then the papers before he took a step back. “Just go through it and give me a summary.”

  She understood. For him, this would be like her going into Royce’s office. She wasn’t ready for that. Might never be. And Joe wasn’t ready to go over details of the woman he’d married.

  Millie cleared her throat and started skimming the first two paragraphs. It was a bio, complete with Ella’s date and place of birth. San Antonio. Her father had been a doctor there, and he’d come from a well-off family. He’d died when Ella was eleven. Ella had moved to Last Ride after Joe and she had gotten married.

  “It’s just background stuff,” Millie told him, moving on to the next paragraph.

  Her skimming slowed a little because it was an account of the first time Ella had gone out with Joe. It’d been a blind date, set up by Joe’s friends who’d met Ella at a party in San Antonio. They’d gone to O’Riley’s for burgers and fries and then had split off from the other couple so they could drive around, just talking. If Dara’s account was accurate, they’d done that for hours, until Joe’s truck had run out of gas and they’d had to walk back to the party.

  Ella and Joe had also had their first kiss that night. At Rocky Point. It was another spot that Millie knew. It was on the edge of the other side of town near Wildflower Vineyard. Rocky Point was a series of clear water springs that threaded through limestone boulders. It was a favorite local picnic spot. And one for making out. Not that Millie had any firsthand knowledge of that, but she was betting Joe did.

  She looked at him. At that face and body that had recently inspired the pulls and tugs within her.

  Yes, he had firsthand knowledge of a lot of things.

  “Well?” he said, sounding both impatient and uneasy. That was uneasy times a thousand, of course.

  “Your first date with Ella,” Millie provided. “Your first kiss.”

  His jaw tightened. “Leave that out,” he said.

  She didn’t even have to think about her answer. “Will do.”

  Bracing herself and wishing she could brace Joe, too, Millie went on to the next page, and picked up the pace of her skimming. She also silently cursed.

  “It’s about how Ella defied her mother to be with you,” Millie managed to say. “About how much Ella and you loved each other. Really loved each other,” she added in a murmur. “Dara underlined that. She also underlined that you and her mother would just sit and stare into each other’s eyes.” She paused. “Leave that out?”

  “Yeah,” he confirmed.

  Oh, mercy. This was doing exactly what she was afraid it would do. Bringing all of those memories to the surface. It wasn’t always the bad memories that ate away at you. The good ones took an even bigger bite.

  “I’m not sure I ever had that with Royce,” Millie admitted. “That’s the worst part of this. Not knowing if what I had with him was true or false.”

  She looked up at Joe at the same moment he looked down at her. Their gazes met. Held. “Yeah,” he repeated, and there was a world of emotion and grief in that one word.

  That grief and emotion swirled between them. Survivors. But it felt like more than that. It felt as if they were on the same side. Friends, maybe.

  Maybe more.

  “You heard the part about Dara telling me I should kiss you?” Millie asked him.

  She saw the answer in his eyes before he even confirmed it with a nod. “Dara wants you to fix me,” he said with oh so much skepticism. “By kissing me.” And the skepticism snowballed into an avalanche.

  Millie nodded, as well. “Dara thinks you might...like me.”

  Silence. No nod this time. Their gazes continued to hold even when the fairy on the front door jangled. Even when Mr. Lawrence called out to her.

  “Millie, I brought by that sculpture I wanted to show you,” the man said.

  Joe turned, obviously ready to go, but Millie took hold of his arm. “You’re attracted to me? True or false?” she added when he didn’t say anything.

  He continued not to say anything for several moments. Long enough for Millie to hear Mr. Lawrence’s approaching footsteps.

  “True,” Joe finally said.

  And he walked out.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  TRUE.

  Instead of admitting he was attracted to Millie, he should have just found a big rock and knocked himself on the head. That would have had a better outcome than spilling that his body was acting like a sex-crazed teenager.

  Joe took a beer from the fridge, put it back and eyed the food that Alma had brought over in the cooler. The chicken looked good, but he wasn’t hungry. What he was was restless, edgy.

  And apparently in need of sex.

  He closed the fridge, heading outside to his man-shed and wishing that Dara was home. Even though she would have almost certainly been in her room, it steadied him to have her nearby. No way could he give in to the gloom and doom when she might come out and see it on his face. The last thing he wanted was for his little girl to be worried about him.

  But she was.

  What Dara had told Millie proved that. Now to the part about you doing something to fix my dad. I think you’re going to have to kiss him.

  Yeah, she was worried all right, along with being flat-out wrong. There was no way Millie could fix him. Not with a kiss. Not with sex. Getting past what had happened was squarely on his own shoulders.

  Joe stopped outside the door of his man-shed, dreading that damn receipt with the note that he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist looking at again. Ella’s last words to him. They were like a magnet, always pulling him right to that last day. To a past that couldn’t change. Couldn’t get better. And it sure as hell couldn’t improve by going over those words and purchases again.

  He went to his truck instead, got in and started driving. He knew where he was going even before he pulled away from his house. It was to a place that wouldn’t change or improve things, but he headed there, anyway. To Hilltop Cemetery.

  Where Ella was buried.

  He drove across town and took the turn on the gravel road. Since it was going on 9:00 p.m.
, the odds were there wouldn’t be anyone else visiting their loved ones. That was the good news. The bad was that he’d be there, and seeing her tombstone even from a distance wasn’t going to fix this storm of emotions going on inside him. The old feelings he had for the woman who’d been his wife.

  And the new feelings he had for Millie.

  There was no comparing the two. Not really. He’d been in love with Ella, and she was the mother of his child. Millie was, well, a flame that was going to burn his ass if he didn’t keep his distance. Keep her out of his mind. He was trying to convince himself how to do that when he nearly ran into her.

  With the deer in the headlights look on her face, Millie froze. She was standing by her car, which was parked on the side of the road. Joe skidded to a stop. Then cursed before he threw open the door and got out.

  “I’m sorry,” she said before he could speak. His headlights lit her up as if she were on a stage. “I came to get the picture of the headstone.” She motioned to the phone she was holding. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

  Ten minutes ago, neither had he.

  “Did you get the picture?” Joe snapped. He winced and then reined in all the mess that was in his head right now. No need to dump that on Millie, not when she was likely dealing with a mess of her own. “Sorry,” he muttered, changing his tone, and he repeated the question.

  She nodded, and he thought she was confirming both the apology and that she’d gotten the shot of Ella’s tombstone. She still had on her work clothes. A slim pale blue skirt and sleeveless top that moved like silk, but she’d ditched the heels she’d had on earlier and was wearing old cowboy boots. Scuffed and worn, like the kind people wore when they were working the yard.

  “There’s uneven ground up there,” she said, following his gaze to her footwear. “And I didn’t think anyone would be here to see me.” She fluttered her fingers toward the hill. “I’ll leave so you can go to her grave.”

  But she didn’t budge. Millie stayed put and stared at him. It was a moment like the one earlier in the day where they seemed to have one of those unspoken conversations that only people close to each other should have. Millie and he weren’t close, but they sure as hell had a lot in common.