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Pretty as a Peach Page 8
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“How was school today, honey?” Darby asks. Linnie comes to a dead stop about twenty feet from us.
Her gaze slides from her mother to me, and her eyes narrow just a little. I feel like a spotlight is on me, but I hold my stare on her until she’s forced to look back at her mom.
“It sucked,” she mutters and turns toward the house.
We watch in silence as Linnie trudges up the porch steps and disappears into the house.
Darby gives a deep sigh and winces with apology. “Sorry about that.”
“What do you have to be sorry about?” I ask her with my head tilted slightly. “She’s a kid. I’ve totally heard worse.”
Darby shakes her head in what I take to be frustration and puts her hands on her hips. She lets her gaze trail back to the house. “I’ve got to figure something out. We haven’t had much time together since we’ve moved down here. She started school right away, and I’ve been busy getting things set up at the farm.”
“Which is exactly why both of you need to come hang out with the Mancinkus clan on Sunday for dinner.”
Darby’s eyes crinkle and light up. “I’m really looking forward to it.”
“Does Linnie like to sing?” I ask.
She gives me back a confused look. “Sing?”
I nod. “I might just have to pull out my guitar and teach her some good old knee-slapping, foot-stomping country songs.”
“You play the guitar?” she asks, eyes twinkling even brighter.
“I’ve got layers you couldn’t even begin to imagine.” I start walking backward toward my truck, so I don’t have to take my eyes off Darby. I point my finger at her and say, “Two o’clock on Sunday. Both of you prepare to be entertained and well fed.”
Darby’s delighted chuckle follows me into my truck until I close the door.
I look through my rearview mirror as I drive down the lane of Farrington Farms. Darby doesn’t move from her spot, but watches me the entire way until I disappear.
CHAPTER 12
Colt
I’m back at Farrington Farms. It’s a different day, slightly different story.
I pull my truck up right in front of Darby’s house. I hadn’t expected to be back here this Sunday morning, but after I hung up the phone with Darby not too long ago, I decided to take matters into my own hands. This morning when Darby called to regretfully inform me that she and Linnie could not attend Sunday dinner with my family, it hit me like a wrecking ball that my interest in Darby extends far beyond just mere intrigue into this fascinating woman. I now fully admit I’ve come to like her.
Strange.
I’ve never used the word “hate” in my life to describe my feelings for someone, but before I ever met Darby, I intensely disliked her. It’s not lost on me that within just a matter of moments of meeting and talking to her, my entire perception changed. Darby really let herself get into trouble with me when she made the bold move to pull her application for the expansion grant from consideration. Yes, Darby is one of the most beautiful women I have ever known, but she became infinitely more attractive when I realized she has a heart of gold.
So here I am at her house, unbidden and possibly unwelcome, to make it known I have an interest in her. And if I’m interested in her, it means I have to be interested in Linnie.
After I hung up the phone with Darby, I had a new person I intensely disliked.
Her husband, Mitch.
“I’m really sorry, Colt,” Darby had explained on the phone not but half an hour ago. “But we’re not going to be able to come to supper today.”
“Why?” I asked quite simply.
She had no hesitation in admitting, “It’s Linnie. She’s just… in a mood, I guess. She’s flat-out refusing to go. While I could certainly force her and drag her to your house, it would not be a pleasant experience for any of your family.”
“What’s the reason for the mood?” I could sense by the tone of her voice that something had happened to put Linnie in her funk.
Darby didn’t answer right away. I could read into her pause she was trying to figure out whether she should share a burden with me. So I urged her. “Talk to me, Darby. What’s going on?”
There was no hesitation after that. She let it all come out in a rushing confession of frustration. “Her father called her this morning. I could only hear her end of the conversation, but it was clear he was in full-out attack mode on me. I could tell that whatever he was saying on his end, he was trying to manipulate Linnie into putting pressure on me to come back to Illinois.”
I didn’t push her for the details. I can imagine some of the things a parent might say to an impressionable seven-year-old to turn them against the other parent. While I don’t have any firsthand experience with such things, I’ve had plenty of friends and acquaintances over the years who have gone through bitter divorces and custody struggles. I’m aware there are some people in the world who will use their kid as a weapon.
Yeah, I don’t like this Mitch dude.
I assured Darby there would be other Sunday dinners they could come to. I put her mind at ease by saying I completely understood what she was going through, even though I don’t. The only thing I did understand is I had made a new friend in Darby McCulhane. I thought she was a good woman. She’s struggling right now to get situated into a new home and is very far away from everything that provided her security.
She helped me out and by extension helped my family out when she gave up the expansion grant.
I’m going to return the favor.
I turn my truck off and hop out with determination. After jogging up the creaky porch steps, I give three solid raps with my knuckles on the wood casing of the screen door. Within moments, Darby’s opening it and blinking at me in surprise.
“Good morning,” I say cheerily.
Darby pushes open the screen door wider and steps back in silent invitation. As I brush past her, she asks, “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to kidnap your daughter,” I tell her.
I did not expect this to alarm Darby, so it was not surprising to see the corners of her mouth tip upward. “Kidnap my daughter? I just want to make sure I heard that correctly.”
I grin and nod. “Cross my heart I won’t corrupt her or anything.”
Darby stares at me for a few moments and while she’s clearly amused, I can see a little bit of distance in her eyes—not because she doesn’t trust me, but because she doesn’t want to place her burdens on my doorstep.
I give her a reassuring smile. “I’m going to take her horseback riding. You told me the other day when you came over to have lunch that she had a horse and it was one of the things she really missed.”
It’s not hard to figure out that the rapid blinking of Darby’s eyes means she’s trying to dispel some wet emotion my offer has caused. The last thing I want to do is make a lady cry, so I also add on with a wink, “And that way, you can have a few hours of relaxation all to yourself. Maybe go get your nails done or your hair fixed up all pretty or something. Not that it isn’t pretty as is, but you know… spend some time on Darby.”
She just stares at me in disbelief. That lasts for only about three seconds before she snaps her head to the right and yells up the stairs, “Linnie. Get down here.”
The footsteps overhead are far too heavy to belong to a seven-year-old. The way she’s stomping through the house above us indicates she is not a happy kid. She comes down the staircase with her shoulders hunched forward. When she reaches the bottom landing, she glares at her mom and says, “What?”
It’s not quite belligerent, but it is rude.
As I was raised by a Marine Corps drill instructor father with no patience for smart talk and a strong, southern woman who insists on manners, a crappy attitude has never been something tolerated in our family. I want to tell Linnie to have some respect for her mother, but that would put us off on the wrong foot.
To my surprise, Darby makes it known she doesn’t find her daughte
r’s attitude acceptable. She narrows her eyes slightly, and says in an even but firm voice, “Remember what we said? You need to check your attitude at your bedroom door. I don’t care if you want to stay up there and sulk but when you’re in my presence, I expect you to be pleasant.”
Linnie doesn’t respond, but her cheeks turn pink.
Darby glances to me and inclines her head my way before telling Linnie, “Colt is here to take you horseback riding if you would like to go.”
There’s no doubt in my mind I made the right decision in coming here when Linnie’s entire face lights up with joy. Her head snaps my way so fast her glasses slide down to the end of her nose. She just pushes them right back up as she asks, “Really?”
I nod. “I’ve got a good buddy who has a few horses, and he’s got two ready for you and me to saddle up for some trail riding.”
It’s also made clear to me that despite Linnie’s sullen attitude toward her mom, she was actually raised with good manners. She immediately turns to Darby. In a very sweet yet imploring voice, she asks, “Can I go, Mom? Please.”
Darby doesn’t hesitate or make her daughter suffer. She just smiles at her and gestures toward the staircase. “Go get changed into some riding gear.”
Linnie doesn’t need to be told twice. She goes flying up the stairs.
♦
It’s patently obvious Linnie takes her horseback riding seriously. While I waited for her to get changed, Darby told me she’d been riding for a few years and it was almost on a daily basis.
My buddy, Travis Peregoy, gave Linnie a very docile mare who is on the smaller side. He kindly did the same for me, although mine is not on the smaller side. I’ve ridden a lot throughout my life, but it is not something I do routinely and usually only when Travis and I would go riding out in the woods to go camping. We grew up together with his family’s horse farm only two miles down the road from us.
Travis pointed us to a trail that runs parallel to Crabtree Creek, and we walk along silently with pine trees providing enough shade to cool the unseasonably warm October day. If we were to continue following the creek south, we would ride right into town coming out behind Mainer House where Mely and Lowe live. I don’t intend to go that far because my intent is to put Linnie in enough of an accepting mood I can ultimately convince her and her mom to still join the Mancinkus family for supper.
I ease into conversation with Linnie by talking about something that is a no-brainer. “Your mom says you’ve been riding for a couple of years and you have a horse at your dad’s.”
I didn’t ask her questions, but tried to subtly open the conversation. She doesn’t take the bait, and I don’t get a response. This goes in line with the quiet I got on the ride over to Travis’s farm, but I do chalk some of it up to shyness.
“My butt is going to be hurting something fierce tomorrow,” I say casually as we walk side by side along the trail.
I glance over at Linnie to see her lips curve upward in a smile. For some reason, all kids find the word “butt” funny.
“I can set up some regular riding with Travis if you’d like,” I tell her lightly, so it doesn’t come off as bribing her for good behavior. “He owes me a favor or two.”
He really doesn’t owe me any favors, but I can set up some kind of rental of his horses’ time. He’ll give me a good deal—something an extra shift each week at Chesty’s would easily cover.
“I want to learn how to jump horses,” Linnie says, and I have to contain the smile that wants to break out on my face that she’s engaging in conversation.
“Oh yeah?” I ask curiously.
She nods and pushes her glasses up her nose. Her voice is smaller when she says, “My dad promised to get me lessons if we come back to Illinois.”
What a jerk. Promising his daughter a gift that can only come to fruition if her mother decides to return to her husband. A gift with conditions is no gift at all, and that’s completely setting Darby up for failure as a mother by not going back.
“Well, we don’t need to wait for that to happen,” I say confidently. Jumping isn’t Travis’s thing with his horses, but I’m sure I can figure something out. I guarantee his contacts in the horse community will turn up somebody I can get Linnie to for some lessons.
She stares at me with hopeful eyes. “Can you really do that?”
“Absolutely.” Even if I have to buy a damn horse myself and kidnap an instructor to come teach her.
The happiness emanating off her little body as she sits up straighter in the saddle tells me now is a good time to have a real talk with her. There’s no way in hell I’m going to talk directly about her dad because I don’t trust my words. I don’t know the guy, and I don’t want to know the guy. I vow to myself I’ll never talk about him in front of her because that’s not cool.
But I’ve got no qualms with talking about Darby. “You said school sucked the other day. How come?”
Linnie shrugs. “Just some mean kids.”
This gets my hackles up. I can’t stand bullying. “Who?”
“This boy in my class. Caleb Rochelle.”
I have to bite my tongue to keep from snorting. Caleb’s parents went to high school with me. His mom is okay, a little on the meek side. But his dad is a big bully himself, so it’s clear the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.
“Want me to talk to his parents?” I ask.
She shakes her head vigorously. “No. I can handle it.”
I push a little harder at her using the bullying as an opening. “I know you’re struggling. With the move and now you’re having to deal with a bully at school. I also know your mom is struggling.”
Linnie gives a silent shrug but doesn’t respond to my statement about her mother.
I push a little harder. “What’s the deal, Linnie? Why are you so angry at your mom and making it so tough on her?”
Another shrug. Perhaps because she isn’t quite sure why she’s acting the way she is?
“I can see you don’t like talking about this, but unfortunately I’m too curious for my own good.” Linnie glances over with a wary gaze. “I’m going ask you five questions, but then I’m not going to mention it again… as long as you answer truthfully.”
She continues gazing at me expectantly as our horses plod along. She’s not in a sharing mood, but I’ve clearly interested her in the concept of limited questions and a promise to let it go after that.
“Was your mom happy when you were living back in Illinois with your dad?”
She shakes her head, dropping her gaze to where the reins rest loosely in her hands.
“Do you want your mom to be happy?”
She nods.
“Linnie,” I call softly and wait for her to look at me. “You do understand that the failure of your parents’ marriage has nothing to do with you, right?”
“I know,” she says softly.
“They both love you,” I tell her as our horses plod along. “You understand that, right?”
She nods and chews on her lower lip as if in contemplation.
I smile and lighten my voice into a teasing mode. “All right. As promised. Only five questions and this is the last one. Who do you want to live with? No joking around and just between you and me so I know the real Linnie. Who do you really want to live with?”
She doesn’t hesitate at all. “My mom. I want to live with my mom.”
I wink at her and grin. “I suspected as much. I can see right through you, kid.”
Linnie giggles and blushes.
“Want to see if we can make these horses go a little faster?” My butt is not looking forward to how it’s going to feel tomorrow.
Linnie answers me by tapping the heels of her little boots into the horse’s flank, and we take off at a trot.
Ouch.
The things I’ll do to make a kid smile.
CHAPTER 13
Darby
Colt opens the passenger door, and I step out of the silver sedan he had showed up in to
pick me up for dinner. I hold together the skirt portion of the plum-colored wrap dress I had put on and paired with tan high-heeled boots. Colt told me sheepishly he had borrowed his mother’s car for tonight since we were dressing up. He didn’t think it would be seemly for me to have to jump out of the truck in high heels. I appreciate the sentiment. I easily alight from the car without showing a slip of leg as I hold my skirt together.
I’m not quite sure how I went from Sunday dinner with the Mancinkus family to a dinner date with Colt. I imagine the answer lies somewhere in the fact that when Colt brought Linnie back home after practically kidnapping her, she seemed like a new child.
No. That’s not quite right. Linnie seemed like herself again. I have no clue what happened when they went riding, but she came back different. I about had to pick my jaw up off the floor when she looked up at Colt, pushing her glasses up her nose, and asked, “Are we still invited for supper this afternoon?”
Colt had grinned down at her and tugged on one of her pigtails. “Of course you are, pipsqueak.”
He’d then turned those gorgeous hazel eyes on me. “See you at two o’clock.”
And Sunday dinner with the Mancinkus family was exactly what both Linnie and I needed together to help solidify our bond. Some would think hanging around with a bunch of strangers would not be conducive to that but on the contrary, there were so many foreign faces that Linnie naturally gravitated toward me. She looked up to me for security around this large, loud brood of people.
But my daughter learned soon enough these were good people.
Pap was constantly teasing her, and Mely did her hair into a fancy French braid Linnie couldn’t stop staring at in the mirror.
Through casual talk before dinner started, I learned Jake and Laken had apparently committed to each other to make a go of their relationship. Jake told me he would make Whynot his permanent residence, and he would be living with Laken for the time being. She would be traveling back and forth to Chicago as needed but for the most part, he was going to try to work as much as he could from here.