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The Marriage Season Page 3
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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 shell-shocked look on the face of Bex’s nephew. Tate had seen it with his own sons the day he’d explained that their mother wasn’t coming back. That she’d gone someplace peaceful and that from then on, she’d live in their hearts forever—as she would in his… Luckily, three dogs, acres and acres to run and two enthusiastic playmates made up for a lot.
Little Joshua was fortunate enough to have his aunt, who seemed to be handling the situation in a very efficient manner.
He was impressed, but the last thing he needed was another reason to like Becca Stuart.
The boys were whooping it up. They knew each other from school, Adam and Josh being in the same class, and he was glad to see them running around like a pack of small wild animals. The dogs loved it. Tripp said, “There’s something about hearing kids laugh… I can’t wait.”
“Let’s talk diapers.” Tate said it drily.
Tripp burst out laughing. “Okay, got me there. I can wait for that part, but I’ll man up.”
“What if you have a girl?”
“Could happen.” Tripp pointed at the boys running around. “But I understand those guys. I was one of those guys. Girls are a different story.”
It might be irrational on Tate’s part, but he’d always wanted a daughter. He leaned on the railing of the corral. “I’d like a girl. Someday. A different experien
ce, I’m sure. Walking her down that aisle and giving her away, as they call it, to some other guy would sure be a leap of faith. Even the idea of that first date is daunting. So, if you don’t mind, what’s up with Bex’s sister?”
“My personal opinion is that her husband isn’t a bad guy—or a good guy. He’s not perfect, but I know him. We went to school together. Greg was the direction Tara chose, for whatever reason. Bex is just too good at picking up the pieces, so this isn’t the first time she’s been stuck with the Tara-and-Greg mess, not to mention poor little Josh. Like I said, you’re getting my personal opinion here. Without Bex to turn to, Tara would simply put up with Greg. But Bex has loyalty nailed down and Tara knows it. He fools around, Tara leaves him, he apologizes and she goes back, and Bex is the only one, as far as I can tell, who even worries about what it’s doing to their kid.”
There was a plume of dust in the driveway. Tate asked, “You expecting company or could that be him now?”
Tripp exhaled loudly. “Orange Corvette… That’s him. Might be best if the kids aren’t around for a bit. I know he has rights as a dad, but if they’ve really split, I’m going to let Josh stay here until I see a court order—unless his mother decides differently.” As he moved off, he added, “You might have to lasso Bex if her sister changes her mind. At any rate, the kids don’t have to hear this conversation.”
Tate had taken his wedding vows seriously, so he was hardly going to balk at stepping in, either, and he could easily see Bex getting in her brother-in-law’s face. He said laconically, “I’ll bring the kids inside and be right back in case there’s trouble.”
He whistled for the dogs and called out to his sons and Josh. “Time out. Come on in the house. Everybody.”
Ben looked really put out. “Dad!”
“For a few minutes.”
“But Dad, I—”
“Now. Don’t argue.”
At least his son understood when an order was an order. Nothing ambiguous about it. Ben sighed as he motioned to the dogs. “Come on, boys.”
They followed, lumbering along at his heels, with the two younger boys close behind. It was telling that even when Josh glanced over his shoulder and saw his dad’s car, he still went in.
To Tate, that said a lot. It touched his heart, but not in a good way. Once the kids and dogs had filed inside, he hurried over to Hadleigh. “Greg is here, so keep them inside, okay?”
She nodded. “No problem.”
He went back out, joining Tripp in the drive. “Just how ‘not bad’ is this guy?”
They’d both dealt with difficult situations, back when they were pilots. As the authority figure on the plane, they usually had to deal with passengers who got out of hand. “On a scale of one to ten?” Tate added. He wasn’t worried, just curious.
“He’s maybe a six,” Tripp informed him, hands in pockets as they walked up to the car. “Plenty of bluster, but there’s no real juice behind it. We know each other—so that should help.”
“Galloway.” The man in question slammed his door and walked toward them. A big guy, Tate noted, but soft, with a shock of dark hair and a five o’clock shadow. He must’ve been at work because he still wore his shirt with his name embroidered on the pocket. “My wife here?”
“Yep.”
“I figured my sister-in-law would drag her out here or to Hogan’s place. Can I talk to her?”
“Nope.”
Anger flared on his face. “You heard the wife part, right?”
“Doesn’t matter. This is my land. So these are my rules.” Tripp didn’t budge. “Tara’s not receiving company at the moment. Seems to me she needs a little peace and quiet.”
“Then I want my son.”
Tate was truly not one to butt into anyone’s business, but he’d seen the look on the poor kid’s face. “He’s inside playing with two other children. Why would you make this harder on him? Get in your car and go, and when you and your wife choose to have a sensible conversation—with lawyers involved or not—he doesn’t need to be part of that, either. Like I say, it’s time for you to leave. That isn’t negotiable.”
“Who the hell are you?”
“A father. The boy’s not a pawn, so don’t even try getting to him. ’Cause that’s not going to happen.”
At least Greg had enough sense to realize that neither he nor Tripp was planning to back down, so, muttering under his breath, he stomped to his car and drove off in a sputter of gravel.
When Tate turned around, he saw Bex standing there.
She gave Tripp a quick hug. “Thanks. Both of you were great.”
When she came over to him, the kiss was more on the corner of his mouth than his cheek, Tate noticed—and appreciated. Not quite the real deal but…
A very nice start.
CHAPTER THREE
BEX TOOK THE CALL absently, at the desk in her office, assuming it was her accountant calling to schedule their monthly meeting. “This is Bex Stuart.”
“Bex, this is Alma. Joshua gave me your cell number. I don’t like to bother you, but I don’t know what else to do.”
Alma was the school secretary. A shudder of dismay went through her. “Is he sick? I’ll be right there.”
“No, he isn’t. Don’t worry about that. But I would appreciate it if you’d come in. We have a problem. Tara’s not answering my calls—they’re going directly to voice mail—and Josh’s father, quite frankly, told me in no uncertain language that he wants nothing to do with it. He was downright rude.”
Why did that not surprise her? After nearly a week of constant harassment in his quest to talk to Tara, who was still at Bex’s place, Greg had finally barged in to the club. He’d brushed past the receptionist and marched into Bex’s office, where he’d planted both hands on her desk, looking her in the eye. “If this is how you want it, they’re your problem now.”
She wasn’t about to yield to his bullying. “Considering the way you’ve treated my sister, that’s exactly how I want it.” Tara wasn’t without some responsibility in this whole mess, but Bex had no intention of discussing that with Greg.
“You got it, Bex.” He’d swung around and left, leaving a hint of motor-oil aroma in the air.
She grabbed her purse and told Alma, “I’m on my way.”
“I’ll tell Josh and send him back to class. He’s very anxious over this matter. That’s my main concern.” She paused. “I’ll explain later, when you get here.”
What matter? she wondered as she unlocked her car and slid in. There was no disputing Tara was a wreck, watching television half the night and sleeping most of the day. She really needed to get herself sorted out, but Bex didn’t know how to advise her. She’d never been married, much less through a divorce, so how could she relate?
The school was a low-slung, modern brick building, only a few years old. Their beloved former school had finally reached the stage that the town had determined that a new building would make more sense than doing endless repairs, and while she’d mourned the loss, there was no doubt this facility was to-heck-and-gone better. The playground equipment alone made her inner child envious.
She parked the SUV in the parent lot and walked through the double glass doors. The office was right inside, and every visitor had to check in and sign a log, so she dutifully did that, and was directed to Alma’s desk right down the hall.
Alma Wainwright was an institution in Mustang Creek. She’d been there when Bex was in elementary school, and she didn’t look a whole lot different now. She still wore her hair in exactly the same bob, with a pair of spectacles constantly perched on the end of her nose. She glanced up and pointed to a chair. Bex sat. Old habits were hard to forget.
Alma picked up a piece of paper and handed it to her, across the desk. “Here’s the problem. No one’s paid for Josh’s school lunches this year. With the new program it can be done online. Or his parents could apply for the free lunch program sponsored by Bliss County and the state of Wyoming if they qualify, but they won’t res
pond. He’s very self-conscious about not having a lunch card, and even though he’s only six, he understands that no arrangements have been made. We would never allow a child to go hungry, so of course he gets a tray like everyone else, but we do have to account for every meal, so could you please ask your sister to address this?”
Bex couldn’t restrain a deep inner sigh. Poor Josh. Such a simple thing. Why would Tara let this slide? “I’ll pay it right now. I’d appreciate if you’d give Josh a lunch card immediately. He’s not having an easy time at the moment, and I don’t want this to be harder on him than it already is. Why didn’t he just tell me?”
“He’s a child. He’s embarrassed.” Alma adjusted her glasses and peered closely at her. “That, my dear, is why I called you. This is Mustang Creek. I know his parents have separated—again. Joshua’s a very nice little boy and frankly, deserves better. The school system can take the loss on his meals, but I’m afraid he can’t take the blow to his self-esteem.”
Maybe Alma should’ve been a child psychologist instead of a school secretary; maybe in some ways it was the same job. Bex wrote the check on the spot, making it for the entire semester. After that she decided that with the marathon tomorrow, she could use a run. A light one, because it wasn’t a good idea to push herself too hard the day before a race. The other benefit was that when she ran, there was nothing to do but think, and she needed to get a grip on the current situation.
Of course, as she exited the building, she bumped into Tate. Or rather slammed into him, her head down since she was searching for her keys and not paying attention. He caught her by the arms. “In a hurry?” he asked with a low laugh.
“Kind of.” She flushed. “This is getting to be a habit.”
“Seems to be.” He let her go. “Ben forgot his math homework. I thought I’d do him a favor and drop it off, although he’d better remember the next time or take a zero. I’m trying to teach him about responsibility but he is only eight, and he did do the assignment without having to be reminded. So he gets one free pass. What are you doing here?”