A Dark & Stormy Knight: A McKnight Romance (McKnight Romances) (8 page)

One of his eyebrows twitched. “I was just
asking.” He turned around and sat on the truck’s lowered tailgate. “So what is
it worth?”

Had she really thought he was talking
about sex? Well, well. Wasn’t that interesting? Was his ex-wife’s mind
wandering into the bedroom?

The Opportunistic Bastard in his jeans
sat up and paid attention.
Down, Obie.

“Uh, well, I guess I could afford—”

“I don’t want your money. That’d be like
taking food out of my daughter’s mouth.”

“What do you want?”

He looked down at the toe of his cowboy
boot as he scuffed a smooth patch into the dirt. Now that she’d put the thought
there, everything he could think of led right into the bedroom. Not that his
mind was ever very far from it around her. “How ‘bout the next time you go to
The Lariat, you call me. We can have a few drinks together.”

“I’m surprised you’d want to after my
last memorable excursion there.”

Sol looked up at her and grinned. “Well,
maybe I can make sure you don’t drink too much.” And maybe he could make sure
she had just enough. Then he remembered why she was drinking like that. “Is it
really that bad at your folks’?”

Georgia
sighed. “I’ve been gone too long. Eden’s not half as demanding as my parents. I’m
used to having more time to myself.”

When she bit her bottom lip, the desire
to take over that chore himself was nearly irresistible.

“It feels wrong, seeing one of your
parents helpless. Mama needs help—” She bit off whatever she’d been about to
say. “With just about everything.”

Sol was glad she hadn’t shared the
details. He was even gladder he had four sisters. If his own mother ever became
seriously dependent, he wouldn’t have to help her bathe. Or worse.

“That’s gotta wear on you,” he said. “No
wonder your drinking got outta hand.”

“It didn’t get out of hand,” she said
harshly.

He chuckled. “You were drunk, Georgia. You threw up in the ladies’ restroom. Or is that how you planned to end your
evening?”

She frowned at him. Georgia never liked having her flaws pointed out. She relented anyway. “No, it’s not how I planned
it. I didn’t even plan to stop there. It was an impulse.”

“Well, it was a good one. You need time
away from your folks. Knocking back a few’s a good way to decompress.”

It wasn’t as good as sex, but it worked.
And who knew? If she gave him a chance, maybe he could help her decompress some
more. His lips twitched. If he kept thinking this way, he might be able to
convince himself he was doing her a favor.

###

“Be sure and call me when you want to hit
the bar,” Sol said as she got out of his truck at her folks’ house.

“Sure,” Georgia said, not meaning it at
all. She felt a little guilty about her unwillingness to have a few drinks with
him. He wasn’t asking a lot, but it didn’t take a Nobel prize–winning
astrophysicist to figure out it would be a stupid thing to do. She was far too
vulnerable right now, which made it hard to be as indifferent to him as she
liked to be.

Without her car, it didn’t take long for
her to feel trapped. She didn’t have any place she needed to go, but not having
the option had her wanting to crawl out of her skin. Her daddy’s car was there,
but she’d have to explain where she was going.

Childhood never ended, she decided. Not
when you were under your parents’ roof. The longer she was there, the more she
felt like an irresponsible teenager. It didn’t matter who she’d become, who she
was elsewhere. It didn’t even matter that she was taking care of them now,
instead of the other way around.

As always, she included her parents,
Eden, and even Sol in her nightly prayers. Then, although so many people needed
things far worse than she needed her car, she added a prayer that she’d get it
back soon.

###

Her sister hadn’t stopped by once since Georgia had taken over their mother’s care, so she was surprised to see Bethany pull into the
driveway mid-morning. Knowing Bethany would let herself in without knocking, Georgia continued chopping carrots for the Crock-Pot stew she was planning for supper.

“Hey, Grams.” Bethany dropped a kiss on
their grandmother’s cheek as she passed through the living room where the TV
was tuned to the daytime
Family Feud.
“How’s it going?” she asked when
she reached the kitchen. She dropped her carpetbagger purse on the table and
pulled out a chair opposite their mother.

“Whatcha got there, Mama?” she asked
without waiting for an answer to her first question.

Both questions were largely rhetorical. Georgia had given her mama a bowl of snap beans. Snapping off the ends was slow and
methodical work that exercised her mama’s motor skills. Her mother muttered
something unintelligible then slapped her hand on the table to get Georgia’s attention.

Bethany
frowned when Georgia moved the pad and pen her mama pointed
at from the counter to the table in from of her mother. Yes, she was supposed
to encourage her to stop relying on written messages so much, but Georgia had the energy for only so many battles a day.

Her mother scratched letters in the
spidery script that was now her handwriting then turned it toward Bethany.
Wy U here?

“I just stopped in for a visit. That’s
okay, isn’t it?”

Their mama made a throaty noise that Georgia had learned pretty much meant
Why ask me? You’ll do what you want anyway.

“Of course, it is,” Georgia said. Though she was still stung by Bethany’s unwillingness to help the day before, she didn’t
want to say anything that would agitate her mother. Instead, she commented on
the change in her sister’s appearance. “You’ve colored your hair.”

“Do you like it?”

“I do.”

The sandy-brown hair Bethany had
inherited from Daddy was now a rich, dark-chocolate color. The first time Bethany had colored it had been right before Eden was born. Bethany had spent the night
with her best friend and come home a fiery redhead. The way their mama had
carried on, one would have thought Bethany had come home pregnant with no idea
who the daddy was. When Bethany had refused to change it back, Mama had
insisted Georgia talk to her sister. It hadn’t taken thirty seconds for Georgia to figure out that the red hair was an act of rebellion.

No dummy, Bethany knew Mama was behind
their discussion, and pink streaks had appeared within days. The funny thing
was that Bethany had been pretty in her rebellious hair.

They’d been chatting only a couple of
minutes when their mother wrote on the tablet again and pushed it toward Georgia.

Water.

“I’ll get it.” Bethany started to stand.

“No!” The word came out surprisingly
clear. Their mama pointed at Georgia.

“I’ve got it covered.” Georgia knew if she looked at Bethany, her sister would roll her eyes, so she focused on getting a
glass from the cupboard and filling it with tap water. Before she could set it
in front of her, her mama was already writing
Ice
on the tablet. Georgia went back and added ice from the freezer.

There was a short, uncomfortable pause in
the conversation while Georgia and Bethany pointedly didn’t mention their
mother’s demanding ways. Georgia felt as if Bethany’s silence accused her of
something. She didn’t like the feeling, especially since she didn’t know what
she was doing wrong.

“I didn’t see your car outside,” Bethany said. “Did you figure out what was wrong with it?”

Georgia
took a breath, glad they’d moved on to a new topic. “The alternator went out.
Sol’s got it out at the ranch, waiting for one to come in.”

Their mother made a disparaging snort.
She reached for the pen, but her hand caught on the rim of the bowl of beans,
tipping it into the glass. Ice and water poured onto the table, washing snap
beans over the edge onto the floor.

Bethany
scrambled to keep the mess from spreading while Georgia grabbed a roll of paper towels. “Survey says . . .” The sounds from
Grams’ game show came through clearly as they sopped up the water and threw ice
cubes in the sink.

A part of Georgia frayed a little more
every time one of these accidents happened, but one look at her mother’s
trembling lower lip made her bite her tongue.

Her mother had always been a master manipulator,
using emotions like a whip. Before the stroke, Georgia wouldn’t have believed
the trembling lip. She had just enough doubt now to keep herself from voicing
her suspicions.

When everything was under control, she
put a hand on her mother’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Mama. No damage done.”

Bethany
threw her last paper towel away and opened the cupboard where the glasses were
kept. After a moment of rummaging, she reached into the back and pulled out a
plastic sippy cup. She filled it with ice water and set it on the table.

Her mother’s lips went from trembly to
thin and tight. Bethany watched closely enough to see it too and picked the cup
up, rescuing it from her mother’s swipe.

“I know,” Bethany said, “but you get
treated the way you act, and right now, you’re acting like a child.”

Georgia
drew a sharp breath as her sister set the cup back down. In another of the
mercurial mood swings that made Georgia question the authenticity of her mother’s
emotional display, her shoulders slumped.

Bethany
walked into the living room. A second later, she was back. “Grams is going to
sit with you for a few minutes, Mama.” Bethany tipped her head toward the back
door. That suited Georgia fine. She had a few things to say to her sister.

“Before you start,” Bethany said as soon
as they were outside, “I want to apologize about yesterday. I should have been
more supportive, but we’d had a tough morning, and I couldn’t face having to
deal with Mama. I’m still in recovery mode from taking care of her before you
got home.”

Not quite ready to accept Bethany’s apology, Georgia decided to ignore it for the moment. “You were kind of harsh
with Mama in there, don’t you think?”

“And you let her walk all over you,” Bethany sat down on the stoop. “Let me tell you something. You’re not going to survive the
summer if you don’t grow a backbone and stand up to her.”

Georgia
looked down at her sister. “I have a backbone. I just pick my battles.”

Bethany
snorted. “You can do that with Eden maybe but not Mama. You let her win one,
and everything’s a battle. Stop trying to tower over me and sit down.”

Georgia
sat. “You don’t have to bait her.”

“Bait her?”

“The sippy cup. That hurt her feelings.”

“She was being petulant.”

That was true. “It was actually kind of
brilliant, too,” Georgia admitted. “I’m embarrassed I didn’t think of it.”

“I wish I could take credit for it, then,
but I can’t. The physical therapist suggested it.”

“Oh.”

“But you’re right. I do bait Mama.” She put
up both hands as if being held up at gunpoint. “I know. I shouldn’t but sometimes
I can’t help it. It’s like this gift, you know? A chance to say what I really
think without her being able to snap back at me. Maybe it makes me a horrible
person that I can’t always pass it by.”

“No, I don’t think you’re horrible. Mama’s
always been difficult, but I can’t do it,” Georgia said. “She’s struggling so
hard. I’d feel like I was kicking her while she was down.”

“I know you have a hard time standing up
to Mama, but you need to do better. Don’t let her get away with so much.”

“I’ll try. And about yesterday. Apology
accepted.”

###

It hadn’t taken Sol an hour to realize Georgia had agreed too easily to having drinks with him. Damn, she was stubborn. But so was
he. Figuring it would take about three days for cabin fever to set in bad
enough for her to call him, he lied and told her the parts house had to order
the alternator. Then he took his time changing it.

By Wednesday afternoon, he was tired of
waiting.

“Hey, Georgia,” he said when she answered
her cell phone. “Mama wants you to come to supper tonight.”

She sighed heavily into the phone. “I
would so love to, but we’re at the physical therapist’s, and Daddy’ll starve if
I don’t feed him.”

“Pick them up some fried chicken at the
store. You need a break, and he needs a reminder to appreciate you more. C’mon.
Come to supper. I’ll come get you.”

“I wish I could.” She sounded so soul weary
that Sol felt a wash of guilt, strong as a coastal undertow.

“You know, Georgia, if there’s anything I
can do to help, to make things easier on you, all you gotta do is ask.”

“Thanks. You don’t know how much I
appreciate that.”

“But you ain’t coming to supper, are you?”

“I can’t.”

He sighed. “Okay. Eden misses you.”

Her voice went tight and hard. “That’s a
low blow, Sol.”