Mason's Marriage (2 page)

Somehow Mimi made it through the night, but by the next day, she knew she was going to need help getting through to Mason. He wouldn’t answer either the house phone or his cell phone. She was growing desperate. How long did he intend to keep their child away from her?

“Dad,” Mimi said, striding into the living room where her father sat playing cards with Barley, Calhoun Jefferson’s father-in-law. Calhoun was one of Mason’s younger brothers, and he was crazy in love with his wife, Olivia, as she was with him. “When you have some time, I really need to talk to you.”

Barley stood. “Good. I’m going to Baked Valentines to get a box of cookies, Sheriff. Me and you are going to go hit some skeets and snack on some chocolate chips.”

When her father had fallen ill with liver disease, Mimi had spent a hellish year thinking she was going to lose him. But he’d recovered miraculously, thanks in part to the scrawny rodeo clown who spent so much time dragging the sheriff to social events. But skeets weren’t a social occasion that required chocolate chip cookies, since skeets weren’t real birds.

“I don’t remember skeets liking cookies from Baked Valentines,” she said.

Barley laughed and waved goodbye. “Be back in a bit.”

“He’s crazy,” her father said happily. “He’s determined to fix me up with Widow Fancy, so we’re going over there tonight.”

Mimi blinked. “Widow Fancy? I had no idea you—”

“No. Now don’t you get started on that.” The sheriff chuckled. “Barley’s just stirring things up. I’m fine the way things are. I’ve got you and my granddaughter, and that’s all I need.” He walked into the kitchen, taking out a big pot. “But I am going to make some soup to freeze for winter. Widow Fancy gave me a recipe.” He grinned. “Think I can make the base for tortilla soup?”

“Yes,” Mimi said, amazed that her father was apparently taking up cooking lessons from the widow.

“Now, what’s on your mind? Tell me while you chop some poblanos for me. Got them fresh the other day, and they are hot!” He looked around. “Nanette gone to Mason’s? Or Olivia’s?”

Mimi told the tears rimming the sides of her eyes to go away, and when they wouldn’t, she wiped them.

“Hay fever?” her dad asked.

“I told Mason the truth,” Mimi said.

The sheriff stopped, turning to give her his full attention. “The truth?”

“About Nanette.”

Her father frowned. “What truth?”

Mimi sank into a chair, her legs no longer holding her. “Dad, I’ve made a big, really awful mess.”

He sat across from her, his face etched with concern. “There’s nothing that can’t be fixed.”

“This cannot be fixed.” She took a deep breath, gazing toward the ceiling for a few moments. “No one knows this except Bandera and Holly. And Brian. I mean, of course Brian always knew. Bandera…I don’t know why I told him. The guilt was beginning to eat at me. Or maybe it wasn’t guilt. Conscience. Was I right, or wrong?”

“Honey, you’re not making any sense.”

“Dad,” Mimi said, desperate to sort her emotions, “Mason is Nanette’s father. Not Brian.”

Her father blinked. “Mason?”

“Yes,” Mimi said, feeling shame and embarrassment sweep over her. “Oh, God.”

“And Brian knows.”

“Yes.”

“That’s why the two of you didn’t stay married.”

“Well,” Mimi said miserably, “we never planned to stay together. I got married so that you would know I was happy in my life. I thought you were going to die, and I wanted you to see me settled with a good man and security.” She breathed deeply, though it never felt as though her lungs fully expanded. “I wanted you to have a grandchild before you passed away. We just wanted you to be happy. Both of us did.” She wiped errant tears away.

“So you two were never…husband and wife.”

“No.”

“It was never a true marriage, but somehow there is Nanette.”

“The night before,” Mimi whispered.

“Yegods,” her father said. “Mimi, I do not want to know one more thing than what you just told me.” He leaned back in the chair, staring at her. “Damn it, I do! Mimi, if you and Mason were together the night before your wedding, why didn’t you just…call the whole damn thing off?”

“I couldn’t!” Mimi jumped to her feet. “What would it have changed, Dad? Mason wasn’t going to walk with me down the aisle! I could have spent the rest of my life loving him, and it wouldn’t have made a bit of difference. And at that point, I had you to think about! How many years did you think of me first before yourself, Dad, after Mom left?” She shook her head, her tears too great to keep back. “I was determined that you leave the earth knowing I was happy if it was the last thing I did. And I did it.”

“Yes, you did.” Her father rubbed at his chin. “And that baby brought me right back, I’ll admit. Brought out the fighting spirit in me. But, Mimi,” he said, his tone still surprised, “what does Mason say now?”

“Mason is a miserable mule.” Mimi tore at her eyes with a piece of tissue, swiping away the water but not the pain. That would never go away. “He took Nanette.”

A frown crossed her father’s face. “Took her?”

“To live with him. For good.” Mimi sat again, feeling faint. “He said that a child needed its father.”

“And its mother, when matters work out best,” her father said.

“I don’t feel any differently than he does,” Mimi said, recognizing a trace of bitterness in her own
voice. “I know the pain of abandonment. I would never allow Nanette to grow up without her mother.”

“I’m sure Mason isn’t thinking clearly right now,” he said, “but you two need to talk.”

Mimi shook her head. “He’s not in the mood to talk to me.”

“I don’t care about moods. I care about Nanette.” Her father patted her hand. “She’s blessed, you know. She has two parents to love and care about her, even if they neither one think straight all the time. Surely it’s not as bleak as it seems, honey.”

“It feels horrible.”

“Mason wasn’t walking out on
you,
” her father said. “It’s really all about his child.”

“What does that mean?” Mimi asked. “I should stop loving Mason? Or be glad that he’s so stubborn about being with Nanette?”

“Maybe yes, maybe no. But you’ve got two different emotional paths warring inside you, Mimi, and that’s no way to help yourself. Or Nanette. Decide if you want to fight for your daughter, or fight for Mason. Because right now your heart is breaking two ways.” He rubbed her cheek and touched her hair. “I’m sorry I made you feel that you had to take care of me.”

“Oh, Dad,” Mimi said, taking his hand in hers to rest against her cheek. “I’m never going to apologize for loving Mason, and I’m never going to be anything but deliriously happy that Nanette is my daughter. You got well. Brian married his girlfriend. Somehow I thought everything would work out….”

Mimi lowered her head. And that was when she realized what she’d really thought would work out, her deepest secret: she’d been waiting for Mason.

She was his for the taking, and she always had been.

M
ASON LOOKED DOWN
at his daughter as she lay sleeping in the guest room, which would now need to be converted into Nanette’s bedroom. He felt a sense of excitement at the thought and an overwhelming need to catch up in her life. How did he tell this child that he was her father and not her beloved uncle? When should he tell her?

When I have completely absorbed it myself.
And that was going to take some time. But he missed the moments when she might have called him Dad or Father. Daddy. Many of his brothers had children, or had them on the way. He’d never known when or with whom he’d have children.

Maybe because he’d always been waiting on…something. He didn’t know what. Impatiently, he
brushed away those wistful thoughts and focused solely on the child sleeping soundly in front of him.

My daughter. My child. My very own.

It was a heady thought, even more wildly satisfying than staying on the meanest bull, or being elected sheriff, or anything in his life, for that matter. He’d done a lot of good things, and some not so admirable, but this…this child was as near to an angel as he figured anyone could be.

He had to tell his brothers, when the time was right. He went to sink into a rocking chair so he could sit and watch Nanette sleep, and as he sat, the terrible thought hit him that maybe his brothers already knew.

Last, for example, had looked at him strangely once when Mason had told Nanette that one day he wanted a little girl just like her. In fact, Bandera had asked him if he wanted to take Mimi and Nanette up in one of their hot air balloons at their honeymoon resort. Be a real family, Bandera had said, but Mason had waved him off, as he waved off all his brothers about everything.

“Damnation,” Mason said under his breath, wondering just how much his brothers had figured out. And if he found out that they did know—or that Mimi had told any of them—he was going to put a firm boot
up any brother’s ass that hadn’t shared the news. If he found out that any brother of his had sided with Mimi by keeping such a secret from him…

His neck felt tight, and his skin turned hot. Mason told himself to calm down. He wouldn’t be so angry if Mimi had told him in the first place, and for that he would never forgive her. Anger brewed deep inside him. How could she?

Because life was a game with Mimi Cannady. She was fun and high-spirited, and he’d always loved that side of her the best. Funny how he hadn’t expected the very side that lured him to be his downfall.

His chest became even tighter as he wondered who else had known he was a father. Brian, of course. Widow Fancy knew because he’d made her look up the birth certificate Mimi had filed in the county records. There, plain as could be, was
Mason Jefferson
typed on the line for
Father.
No doubt the sheriff knew, as well.

Embarrassment burned inside him.

“Bro.”

“Shh.” Mason turned to look at Last, who had poked his head around the door. “What are you doing here?”

“Valentine and I left a cake on the table for Helga. Tomorrow is her birthday. We want you to hide—What’s wrong?”

Mason shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Something’s wrong. You look like you’ve got a stomachache.”

“No.”

Last frowned at him. “Okay. I still say you look like you ate something that didn’t agree, and you’re always pretty sour looking, Mason, so if I think—”

“Last, get the hell out,” Mason said, his voice low.

Last disappeared from the doorway. Nanette turned over in her sleep, her eyes closed tightly like a china doll’s. Surely she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on, Mason decided. She’d always been a lovely little sprite moving through his life; he’d always loved her. But now that she was all his, love for her nestled even deeper inside his heart.

He was very angry with Mimi for stealing his time with Nanette from him, but she’d given him a wonderful miracle, too, he slowly admitted. Who could have imagined that something as sweet as a child could come from such a moment of fiery lovemaking?

After that night with Mimi, he’d felt guilt. He’d felt remorse, and he’d felt crazed in the head. But he’d never regretted it. It would be a lie to say he had. Even when she’d walked down the aisle with Brian, Mason had been glad he’d loved her. All practicality told him that she was better off with Brian, and he’d
let her go. It had never been his intention to steal her away from her intended.

Only he supposed he had. Mimi couldn’t have conceived a child with Brian while she was pregnant with Mason’s child, and he supposed Brian hadn’t wanted to raise another man’s baby. It would have been too much for a new marriage to handle. He felt momentary guilt that perhaps she’d never had a chance to make her marriage work because of him.

The fact was, he couldn’t keep his thoughts away from her, and that night he couldn’t keep his hands off her. She’d been upset over her father’s condition, and he’d comforted her. Without planning it, he had allowed that comfort to spiral into acting on his feelings and he had made love to her with every fiber of his being.

No, he didn’t regret that. And her marriage…well, that was one more seed of guilt he’d end up reaping one day.

He sat up, astonishment hitting him.
“Nanette Jefferson,”
he said out loud. Not Cannady. Jefferson!

“Mason,” Last said, peering around the door more cautiously this time, “I hate like hell to bother you, but—”

“That’s my child,” Mason said, pointing to Nanette gleefully.

“Yes, yes, she’s our child, all of us adore her. But, Mason—”

Mason got up, barely able to keep the grin off his face. “That’s my daughter. Not Brian’s.
Mine.
”

Last stared at him. “Are you insane? Mason, I really think you need to come downstairs and let Calhoun and Fannin and me spell you for a bit. You’ve been working too hard.”

“Nanette Jefferson,” Mason said, stubborn in his joy.

“Are you…getting married?” Last asked.

“Hell, no,” Mason said. “I’m getting proper papers filed, is what I’m going to do.”

“Proper papers?” Last frowned. “To do what?”

“To declare Nanette as mine. To change her name. All that stuff that fathers do when they become fathers.”

“Did you fall down the stairs and hit your head?”

“No,” Mason said, “and when you figure it out, you’ll realize you’re Uncle Last.”

Last blinked. “You’re going to scare Mimi with all this crazy talk.”

“Mimi scared me,” Mason said. “She told me yesterday that Nanette is my child.”

Last’s jaw dropped. “So that’s what Bandera was hinting about!”

“Bandera?” Mason stared at his youngest brother. “Does he know? Has he known all this time? And kept it from me?”

“Uh, I don’t think so,” Last said, clearly backtracking or confused. “Now that I think of it, he said that he wished Nanette was your child so he could be Uncle Bandera.”

“I’m going to put my boot—”

“I know, I know.” Last held up his hand. “What difference does it make if Bandera knew, Mason? If Mimi had taken him into her confidence, he wouldn’t tell you. None of us would go back on a confidence.”