Page 67 of The Wedding Gift
“Why would Lacy do that?” Becca whispered.
“Because Dalton is showing signs of being ready to settle down, and she wants him.” Greta turned the bacon andcracked two eggs into another skillet. “He’d be a good catch, and besides all that, she’s probably got a bet going about how long it will take her to get him in front of the preacher. She’ll make some money and have a good husband too.”
“That’s just wrong!” Becca narrowed her eyes and set her jaw.
“Sin is sin. One ain’t no more wrong than the other. You not letting him explain or believe him was just as wrong as what she is doing.” Greta finished making two plates and carried them to the table. “Eat and then you’ll feel all better.”
“Do you think she’s really pregnant?” Becca cut up her eggs, dipped a corner of a piece of toast in the yellow, and put it in her mouth.
“Maybe she is, but if she is, then it’s not Dalton’s. Think about it: Why would he get careless after all these years? He said he hasn’t been with her in six months, and I believe him,” Greta cut off a piece of the black pudding. “Cowboys have a code. If she is pregnant and the baby is his, he will marry her, but if it’s not, then…” Greta shrugged. “Y’all need to talk.”
Those last four words were still rattling around in Becca’s mind when she reached the wine shed that morning. Just like Greta had promised, the tea and all that breakfast did make her feelmuch better. Her head still felt slightly like one of the round watermelons she sliced open to juice, but that was minor compared to the way she had felt when she first woke up.
She gave the bottles of wine on the top shelf of the winery a dirty look as she flipped the strap of a bibbed apron over her head. The hired hands had already unloaded a pickup load of melons into the shed, and there would be at least that many more arriving after lunch. If she’d gone with Dalton on his stock delivery, she would have been working long hours over the weekend to catch up.
She figured more watermelons were coming in when she heard the hinges on the door squeak. “Just stack them over against the wall.”
“Hey,” Dalton said.
His deep Texas drawl made her drop the butcher knife on the floor.
“Hey.” Her eyes locked with his across the room.
“You ready to talk?” he asked, but he didn’t take a step forward.
“How did you get back from Haskell so quick?” she asked.
“I didn’t go,” he answered. “Didn’t plan to take the bulls myself from the beginning. I just thought it would be a good little trip for the two of us, but…” He blinked and took a deep breath. “Need some help?”
“Doin’ what? Apologizing for not trusting you, or juicing melons?” she asked.
“I was thinkin’ of melons,” he said. “Are we going to talk about last night or pretend it didn’t happen?”
“I think we’d better talk about it.” She picked up the knife and carried it over to the sink. “I’m not a big believer in sweeping things under the rug.” She motioned to a couple of green lawn chairs over in the corner.
He waited for her to sit down, and then he eased down in the chair beside her. “I visited with Lacy this morning on the phone. I didn’t go to her place or invite her to come to mine. Everyone in town knows that I live out here on the ranch in the original old house, but until last night she’d never been in my place.”
“I believe you,” Becca said. “I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.”
“Actually, you had every right to react that way. I also talked to my grandpa and my dad this morning. They both reminded me that I was just reaping what I’d sown. I’ve chased women since I was a teenager, and they told me time after time that the day would come when I would have regrets about being so wild,” he confessed.
“Grammie read me the riot act too, only she said that we shouldn’t even consider having a few dates because I didn’t trust you,” Becca told him. “In her opinion I should havekicked Lacy’s arse out of the house when you told her that the baby couldn’t be yours.”
“She’s not pregnant,” Dalton said. “She got angry when she saw us buying baby blankets, and she wanted to break us up.”
“What a bitch!” Becca said.
“She might be, but it worked for her last night anyway,” Dalton said. “Now what do we do?”
“I’m sorry for the way I acted,” Becca said. “Everyone has a past, no matter how good or bad it is. The important thing is to leave all that where it belongs and go forward.”
“Is there a forward for us?” he asked.
She had loved being with him on Sunday and then again last night. She had swallowed her pride and apologized.
“I sense by your hesitation that you don’t know,” he said. “Anything I can do to change your mind?”
“You could ask me out on a date that doesn’t involve wine, and we could take it one step at a time, if you’re willing to do that,” she said.