Medium Well (9781101599648) (28 page)

“Well, Mrs. Palmer has an affair with him. I don't know if love comes into it.”

“She loved him.” Biddy gritted her teeth. “Trust me on this. Anyway, Palmer finds out and is really pissed.”

“And he's feeling all-powerful because he's got this demon supplying him with solid gold information, so he decides to sic the demon on them.”

“The demon comes calling. Joseph offers himself if the demon lets Mrs. Palmer go. Mrs. Palmer sweetens the pot by promising him somebody else.”

“So the demon eats Joseph and Palmer, after Mrs. Palmer takes away his ‘get-out-of-demon-meat – free' card.”

Biddy closed her eyes, feeling her muscles tense again. “She should have run away with Joseph, but I guess Palmer would just have sent the demon after them.”

“Her demon,” Danny murmured, “her choice.”

“She wouldn't have chosen that if she'd had time to think about it,” Biddy said slowly. “She wouldn't have let Joseph die for her. She had the rest of her life to regret it. No matter how short a time that turned out to be.”

“You can't know that, Biddy.”

“Maybe not. But I have a feeling. Remember, she caged the demon and then promised to spend eternity guarding it.”

He lay still for a moment, leaning his head against her shoulder again. “Let's not blow this, okay? Let's not end up making stupid decisions like they did.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Meaning?”

“Meaning we don't screw around with this.” He ran his fingertips along her cheek, gently. “I almost did that, and it scared the crap out of me. Let's stay together, Biddy. For better or worse. Together. Right?”

She nodded, her lips pressed tight to hold back the tears. “Right,” she whispered.

“I love you, Biddy.” He cupped her breast in his hand, rubbing his face against her hair.

“Good to know,” she breathed. “I love you, too.”

Chapter 28

Two weeks after “financier Clark Henderson” had died in what the
San Antonio Express-News
called a “spectacular King William conflagration,” Biddy stood at the side of the Gruene Hall stage, peeping at the audience while she half listened to the opening act. Everybody seemed to be having a good time, even if it was Wednesday night rather than Saturday.

She swallowed hard against her dry throat.
Steady, Biddy. It's just a gig.

Right.
Just a gig. Just ninety minutes at the oldest, most prestigious dance hall in Texas. Just a chance to be seen by some of the most powerful people in the music business, at least the Texas end of it.

She closed her eyes for a moment, then felt a warm hand rubbing circles on her back.

“Okay?” Danny asked.

Biddy gave him a slightly shaky smile. “I'm trying. But ‘okay' may be asking a lot right now. Are your folks here?”

He nodded. “And Rosie. Ray came over from Boerne, and a couple of cousins came down from Austin. The whole cheering section.”

“And Araceli?” Biddy scanned the audience one more time.

Danny paused for a moment. “I didn't see her, but it's still early.”

“I know.” Biddy blew out a breath, shrugging. It didn't hurt. Much.

“She'll be here.” Danny went on rubbing those small circles on her back, easing the tension. “Relax, babe.”

He'd already put in a full day at Big Al's new Helotes office, where he'd just taken over as manager, salesman, and virtually the entire staff. And tomorrow he'd be back selling houses in Grey Forest. But tonight he was being her roadie again. The sexiest roadie ever.

“I'm fine.” She was. Really. Just because she hadn't talked to Araceli since that day at the carriage house. Just because she'd sent in her letter of resignation to Vintage Realty the next day. Just because she'd left a message on Araceli's voice mail and sent her an e-mail asking her to come and hadn't heard anything in reply. Just because, for whatever reason, she really wanted Araceli there.

She really was fine.

The crowd applauded as the opening act wrapped up their obligatory encore. On the other side of the stage, Gordy was setting up his keyboard. “Time to do the sound check.”

“Right.” Danny patted her butt. “Give 'em hell, kid.”

“Been there, done that,” Biddy whispered, then shook her head.

She walked to the other side of the stage and took out her fiddle, pulling her bow across the strings as she tuned. Gordy hit an A for her.

Her mom and dad had come to every performance she'd ever given. Now she had Danny's mom and dad there and his brother and sister and assorted cousins. And, of course, Danny himself, the most important part of her audience. Still, she wished she had Araceli, too. Maybe someday . . .

“All right, I'm here,” Araceli snapped. “I don't know if I'm dressed for it, though. What the hell are you supposed to wear to a honky-tonk, anyway?”

Biddy turned toward her voice. Araceli stood beside the stage, wearing jeans so new they still had a crease down both legs, along with a silk designer version of a western blouse. With rhinestones.

“You look great, Sis.” Biddy swallowed hard.

Araceli gave her a quick once-over, noting her short skirt and high-heeled sandals. “I thought this was a country-and-western place.”

“They do a lot of different bands,” Biddy hedged. “I'm so glad you're here.”

Araceli shrugged. “I haven't heard you play since high school. You were always good.”

“I think you'll like it.” Biddy grinned. “I hope so, anyway.”

Araceli looked away, studying the crowd, then back again. “I never thanked you.” She licked her lips. “Not the way I should have. You saved my life, Biddy.”

Biddy blinked back the tears that threatened around the edges of her vision. “We're family. What's a sister for, after all?”

Araceli put a finger under her chin, smiling. “For support. And a connection to the Gunters. And a cheering section. Go your own way, kid. You earned it.”

Biddy hugged her hard. After a moment, Araceli put her arms around her sister's waist and hugged back.

“You can sit anywhere, Araceli.” Biddy stepped back, waving at the rapidly filling room. “The close seats don't have any smoking, though, so that might be more comfortable.”

“You can sit with my folks.” Danny stepped beside Biddy, handing her a bottle of water, then pointed over Araceli's shoulder. “At that table over there. I'll join you in a minute.”

Araceli turned back to her one last time, her lips pursed, eyes bright with something that looked suspiciously like tears. “Play good, Sis.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Biddy whispered as she watched her sister walk toward the somewhat rowdy Ramos table. “I'll do that.”

Danny hugged her shoulder. “So all's right with the world now?”

Biddy nodded, swallowing hard. Tears play havoc with your singing voice. To say nothing of your mascara.

Danny turned toward Skip. “Is that amp all set up?” Something flashed as he moved.

Biddy caught her breath. “Is that an earring?”

Danny turned back to her, running his index finger over the diamond stud in his right ear. “Yeah. Like it?”

“Love it.” She grinned at the now-completely all-right world. “Okay, guys, time to go to work. Let's hit it!”

Meg Benjamin
is an author of contemporary romance. Her books have won an EPIC Award for Contemporary Romance, the Romantic Times Reviewers' Choice Award, and the Holt Medallion among other honors. Meg lives in Colorado with her DH and two rather large Maine coon kitties (well, partly Maine Coon anyway). Her Web site is http://www.MegBenjamin.com and her blog is http://megbenj1.wordpress.com/. You can follow her on Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/meg.benjamin1), Pinterest (http://pinterest.com/megbenjamin/), and Twitter (http://twitter.com/megbenj1). Meg loves to hear from readers—contact her at [email protected]
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