A Man to Hold on to (A Tallgrass Novel) (31 page)

Therese didn’t look her best, knew it, and didn’t care. The stop she’d made on her way home was at the nursery, and she’d spent the afternoon loosening and amending soil, planting bloom after bloom, mulching and watering. She had dirt stains on her shorts and T-shirt, her hair was blown half out of its ponytail, and her skin showed the signs of a few hours in the warm sun. She still had a lot of work to do, but the beds nearest the patio were vibrant and fragrant and made her happy just to look at them.

So did Keegan. So did Mariah.

Too bad she had to look at Catherine, too, at least one more time.

“You decided?” Keegan asked as they watched Catherine sashay from the street, taking her sweet time because the teenage boys across the street were salivating over the show.

“I did.” She couldn’t say anything else, not with Catherine now climbing the steps, but blindly she felt for his hand and gave it a tight squeeze. His relieved sigh was almost lost in Catherine’s greeting, but the squeeze he returned said it all.

“I don’t know how women around here survive. No wonder all of Abby’s clothes are so tacky. The first place I went, I couldn’t find a thing to buy. Thank God a woman directed me to Utica Square.” Catherine’s gaze shifted from Therese to Keegan. “What are you doing here again?”

“I asked him to come,” Therese replied. “This involves him, too.”

“Oh, God, you’re
dating
? Paul hasn’t been dead even three years.”

“Excuse me if I don’t take relationship advice from a woman who began dating again four years
before
her divorce.” Therese went inside, leaving them to follow. The heavy waft of expensive perfume indicated Keegan had allowed Catherine to enter first.

Therese didn’t take them into the living room and didn’t stop in the kitchen, but went outside onto the patio. She didn’t offer anything to drink, either. She wasn’t feeling that hospitable toward Catherine, and hopefully Keegan and Mariah would join her and the kids for dinner.

Catherine looked at each of the chairs, touched one with cautious fingertips, then checked for dirt. Gingerly she perched on the edge of the cushion while Keegan and Therese settled in their own chairs. “I don’t think I like the idea of a strange man coming around my children.”

Married,
Therese wanted to remind her.
Affairs, four years.
“As long as I have custody of them and I’m not doing anything inappropriate, that’s none of your business.”

“But that’s about to change. The custody part. With Abby, at least.”

Catherine smiled such a pretty smile, her head tilted just so, gazing up through her thick lashes, so feminine, so confident. For a moment, Therese could see why Paul had fallen for her. In the beginning, at least, she’d promised him everything with nothing more than that look.

And she could see just as clearly that the woman had zero effect on Keegan. Maybe it was petty, but the fact made her heart swell.

“I’ve given this a lot of thought,” Therese said, folding her hands in her lap. “I’ve considered what you want, what I want, what Abby and Jacob want, and what’s best for them. But first let me answer your second request, for a portion of Paul’s life insurance.”

Catherine leaned forward, greed taking the shine off all that pretty femininity.

“That answer is simple. No. Paul didn’t make the kids his beneficiary. He didn’t need to because he knew I would provide for them until they’re able to take care of themselves. He didn’t make you his beneficiary because you weren’t married anymore, you didn’t have custody of the kids, and frankly, he didn’t want you to have the money. Neither do I.” Therese took a breath even as Catherine gasped for one.

“But—but—that’s not fair!”

“No, Catherine, being unfaithful to your husband wasn’t fair. Giving up your kids wasn’t fair. Asking Abby to live with you and telling Jacob you didn’t want him damn sure wasn’t fair, and trying to profit now from their father’s death isn’t fair.”

“But how am I supposed to provide Abby with the lifestyle we need without Paul’s money?”

Therese breathed deeply. “Abby doesn’t need a ‘lifestyle.’ She needs to be with family who love her. She needs friends and security and stability, and she’s got all that right here.”

Once more she heard a relieved sigh from Keegan. He hadn’t wanted her to give up on Abby, but he hadn’t known what she would do. She hadn’t been absolutely sure herself until she’d been on her knees earlier, digging holes in the soil, thinking about how the seedlings she was planting would grow into huge, thriving plants as long as they had strong roots and plenty of nurturing.

Abby hadn’t had enough of either, and that was in part Therese’s failure. One she intended to rectify.

Catherine popped to her feet, quite a marvel considering the tightness of her dress and the height of her heels. “I’ll fight you on this. Abby’s old enough to decide for herself, and she’ll choose me. She’ll always choose me over you.”

Therese stood, too, and faced her. “Go ahead. Take it to court. Abby can give her opinion, but it’s the judge’s decision, and it’ll be based on a lot more than what a thirteen-year-old girl says. Think about it carefully, Catherine. Do you really want the kids to know you cheated on their dad? That you offered to take Abby off my hands in exchange for money? That you actually said, ‘I know what she’s like. It’s a small price to be rid of her’? Do you have any idea how deeply that would hurt both of them?”

Something flashed through Catherine’s eyes—the anger Therese expected, but more. Fear. Did losing her kids’ respect and affection actually mean something to her? Or was it seeing the easy payday she’d expected slip out of her grasp that frightened her?

In the next instant, Catherine’s jaw jutted out. “So give me the money and Abby, and they never have to know.”

It probably seemed a logical solution to her, and Therese had even considered it. But whatever share of Paul’s life insurance Catherine got would run out sooner rather than later, and then what would she do? Discard Abby again? Send her back to Therese or, worse, put her out on her own?

And Abby would know. She would try to convince herself that her mother truly loved and wanted her, but in her heart she would know she wasn’t as important to Catherine as a daughter should be. It would break her heart all over again.

Therese slowly, firmly shook her head as she walked the few feet to the kitchen door and opened it. “I’d appreciate it if you would leave before Abby or Jacob realize you’re here. Don’t worry. I’ll make your excuses to Abby.”

“She’ll hate you.” Catherine’s face was splotched beneath her flawless makeup, and a muscle near her left eye twitched. Unlike her daughter, she couldn’t pull off anger and beauty at the same time. “I’ll make sure of that.”

“You do what you have to do, Catherine, and I’ll do what I have to to protect my family.”
My family.
The words sent a shiver of bone-deep pleasure through her. Jacob and Abby were her family, and Mariah, and soon Keegan and all those Logan relatives he loved so much. A bit of sadness washed through her that Catherine didn’t understand how important family was. She probably never would.

She half expected Catherine to shriek, stomp, and scream for her daughter. The woman inhaled deeply, but all that came out was a sputter as she crossed the threshold. She strode through the kitchen and down the hall, Therese a few feet behind her, ready to catch the door before she could slam it. Catherine stopped there and faced Therese. “This isn’t over.”

When Keegan had said the same words a few hours earlier, they’d been reassuring, a warm promise. Catherine’s might or might not be a promise. She might slink back to California without the money she’d come for and go back to her neglectful, self-centered life, or she might turn her full charm on Abby, tempting her, coaxing her, luring her away just to punish Therese.

One thing was sure, though: Therese would fight, too, and she’d pit her skills against Catherine’s any time.

Lifting her head haughtily, Catherine walked out, leaving the door open, taking the time despite her anger to put on a display for the boys across the street. Preening for men, displaying her body to its most advantageous, appeared to be the only thing that came naturally to her.

Therese’s relief was so strong as the rental car drove away that her knees went weak and she sagged against the door frame. An instant later, strong arms went around her from behind, and Keegan pulled her against his body. “I’m so proud of you.”

“I don’t know if I could have done this without you.” She folded her hands over his where they rested on her middle. They were so strong, like him. They made her feel safe and protected and loved.

“You could have. You would have. It’s best for Abby and for you.”

“I’ve prayed about it so long, and I believe it is, too.” She sighed heavily. “I just hope she comes to the same conclusion sometime before we’re old and gray.”

“She will. Though I think we should both cover our ears when you tell her.”

He intended to stay while she broke the news. Warmth flooded through her. She could do it—could play the evil stepmother, could bear Abby’s tears and tantrums, could handle her overwrought emotions. She could do anything with Keegan at her side.

Therese laid her head against his shoulder, absorbing the heat and strength of his body, finding the only moment of peace she’d had in twenty-four hours. For that moment, she wasn’t hurting or afraid. She wasn’t feeling betrayed. Her lungs weren’t starved for air, her stomach wasn’t turning acid-laced flips, and her nerves weren’t braced for the next bad flare.

“You told Mom no, didn’t you?”

Abby’s voice, stiff and accusing, came from the hallway behind them. Therese and Keegan turned to face her where she stood halfway between them and the kitchen, a box of crackers and a jar of peanut butter clenched in her hands. She must have been in the pantry getting a snack when Therese opened the door and asked Catherine to leave. Was that all she heard?

Please, Lord, don’t let her have heard her mom ask for money or me repeating what Catherine said about her.

Her expression was stark, jaw clenched, eyes so like her brother’s and sister’s, wide with unidentifiable emotion. She wasn’t vibrating with rage, though, or acting out in any other way. She simply stood there, still, waiting, looking…confused.

Therese moved from Keegan’s embrace and took a few steps toward her, steeling herself for an outburst of teenage angst. “I did.”

The outburst didn’t come. Abby stared at her a long time, then tossed her hair. “Okay.”

Unable to stop herself, Therese repeated, “
Okay
?”

Abby moved a few steps herself, then stared at the floor as she shifted from one bare foot to the other. “She lives in a tiny apartment. I mean, it’s really expensive and gorgeous, but it’s tiny and there are no kids around. And she wanted to leave Jacob behind. Sure, he’s a moron and a jerk, but he’s my brother. I couldn’t just go off and leave him like that. And Nicole cried when I told her I was leaving, and I would’ve missed her and Payton and school and geek camp and the cookie monster and—and—”

She stopped abruptly, breathed deeply, and into the silence came a call from her room. “Abby! I don’t want crackers. Can I have blue yogurt?”

“Yeah, Riah,” she called back. “Just a minute.” After another moment of shuffling, she went on. “When we got to the bed-and-breakfast last night, she spent the whole night on the phone with her friends. They talked about dates and where to get their nails and hair done and who’s got the best clothes. Every time she hung up, I tried to talk to her, but then someone else would call and she’d say, ‘Oh, sorry, Abs, I’ve got to take this.’ And it would be more of the same. And she never even mentioned me. She never said, ‘Guess what? My daughter’s here with me.’ It was just all clothes and men and…you know. Unimportant stuff.”

Therese hid a smile at the last remark. Clothes and men unimportant? Were they sure she was Catherine’s daughter?

“Today I wanted her to pick me up at school so Nicole and Payton could meet her. I guess I kinda wanted to show her off. But she wanted to go shopping. That’s what she does all the time at home. Couldn’t she have skipped it just once to spend some time with me?” The pleading in her voice was echoed in her eyes when she looked at Therese.

“Sweetie, I’m sorry.” Taking a couple more steps, Therese reached out, resting her hand on Abby’s shoulder. When the girl didn’t shrug her off, she pulled her closer and wrapped one arm around her. “I wish…”

She wished Catherine were a better mother. She wished
she’d
been a better mother. She wished neither Abby nor Jacob would ever suffer a moment’s pain or disappointment again.

For one sweet moment, Abby rested her head on Therese’s shoulder. Almost immediately, though, she lifted it and met her gaze. “You called us family. Are we your family, me and Jacob?”

“Yes. Not by birth but by choice.” Like Keegan and Mariah.

Abby considered the words a moment, then nodded. “I’d better get the monster her yogurt.” She pivoted and walked back to the kitchen, then stopped to face her once more. “I don’t hate you.” With another toss of her hair, she disappeared down the hall.

I love you
couldn’t have had more impact, Keegan thought as a smile bloomed across Therese’s face, erasing every bit of tension, every line, every worry she’d ever had. Taking his hand, she said with something close to awe, “She doesn’t hate me.”

“I heard. For what it’s worth, neither does Jacob or Mariah, and neither do I. In fact…” He pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her. “I meant what I said earlier.”

She scrunched up her face as if trying to recall. “That you adore me?”

He shook his head. “I do, of course, but the other.”

Her step forward removed the scant distance between them, her breasts brushing his chest, her hips against his, her thighs, long and lean and golden in his memories, touching his. “That you stayed in town because of me?”

“And?” He nuzzled her neck, and every breath he took smelled entirely of her. Perfume and, fainter, shampoo, fresh earth, flowers, and sun.