“Don’t be so certain,” Richard countered. He crouched down beside Maggie, but he was looking at Caroline.
“Hi, Maggie,” Grady said, choosing that moment to try again. The anger had faded from his face, but he still held himself rigid.
Caroline gave him credit for making the effort to win Maggie over.
Her daughter wasn’t easily swayed, however. She buried her face in Richard’s shoulder.
“There’s no need to be afraid of Grady,” Richard whispered to Maggie—a stage whisper that carried easily. Then he smiled in a way that suggested Grady was wasting his time. In other words, Grady didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of convincing Maggie he wasn’t an ogre. Richard’s meaning couldn’t have been clearer.
“I don’t like Grady,” Maggie announced, pursing her lips.
“Maggie!” Caroline admonished her.
“She’s right, you know,” Richard said, teeth flashing in a wide grin. “Grady just doesn’t get along with kids, not like I do.”
Caroline clamped her mouth shut rather than reveal her thoughts. She didn’t trust Richard, couldn’t trust him, not after the way he’d used his family. Used anyone who’d let him.
“I’m thinking Maggie needs someone like me in her life,” Richard said. “Which means there’s only one solution.”
“What’s that?” Caroline knew she was a fool to ask.
“You could always marry me,” he said and leaned over far enough to touch his lips to Caroline’s cheek. “Put me out of my misery, Caroline Daniels, and marry me.”
“Oh, Mommy, let’s do it!” Maggie shouted, clapping her hands. “Let’s marry Richard.”
2
GRADY WAS PLEASED THAT HIS SISTER HAD convinced Caroline and Maggie to stay for dinner. Now all he had to do was behave. It never seemed to fail—whenever he had a chance to make some headway with Maggie, he’d do something stupid. He wanted to blame Richard, but as usual he’d done it to himself.
His brother brought out the very worst in him. As Grady washed up for dinner, he hoped this evening would give him an opportunity to redeem himself in both Caroline and Maggie’s eyes.
The table was already set and the food dished up in heaping portions. A platter of sliced roast beef rested in the middle, along with a huge bowl of mashed potatoes, a pitcher of gravy, fresh corn on the cob and a crisp green salad. There was also a basket filled with Savannah’s mouthwatering buttermilk biscuits. His sister was one fine cook. He’d miss her when she moved into her own house with Laredo. But it was time, well past time, that she had a home and a life of her own. He knew from his talks with Laredo that they’d already started to think about adding to the family.
“Dinner looks wonderful,” he said. Grady made an effort these days to let Savannah know how much he appreciated her. Over the years he’d taken her contributions for granted, discounting her efforts with her roses and her fledgling mail-order business—a business that now brought a significant income. He’d even made fun of her goats, which he considered pets rather than livestock. Now that she was married and about to establish her own home, Grady recognized just how much he was going to miss her.
Savannah flushed with pleasure at his praise.
The compliment had apparently earned him points with Caroline, too; she cast him an approving smile. Grady held in a sigh. He needed all the points he could get when it came to Caroline and Maggie. If everything went well, this evening might help him recapture lost ground with the child.
Everyone began to arrive for dinner. With the scent of the meal wafting through the house, it wasn’t long before all the chairs were occupied—except for one. Richard’s. It was just like his spoiled younger brother to keep everyone waiting.
“Where’s Richard?” Maggie asked, glancing up at her mother.
Grady was asking himself the same question.
“He’s coming, isn’t he?” Maggie whined.
Even from where he stood Grady could sense the little girl’s disappointment.
“I don’t know, sweetheart,” Caroline answered.
“There’s no need to let our meal get cold,” Grady said. If Richard chose to go without dinner, that was fine by him. If anything, he was grateful not to have his brother monopolizing the conversation, distracting both Caroline and Maggie. Grady pulled out his chair and sat down. Laredo, Savannah and Caroline did so, as well. The only one who remained standing was Maggie.
“What about Richard?” she asked in a small stubborn voice.
“I guess he isn’t hungry,” Caroline said and pulled out the chair next to her own for Maggie.
“He promised he’d sit next to me at dinner.”
“It isn’t a good idea to believe in the things Richard promises,” Grady said as much for Caroline’s ears as for her daughter’s. He hated to disappoint the five-year-old, but it was God’s own truth. Richard was about as stable as beef prices. His loyalties constantly shifted toward whatever was most advantageous to him, with little concern for anyone else.
His playful marriage proposal to Caroline worried Grady. She’d laughed it off, but Grady found no humor in it. Apparently his brother knew Grady was interested in Caroline and thus considered her fair game. It would be typical of Richard to do what he could to thwart any romance between Caroline and Grady by making a play for her himself. Grady knew that made him sound paranoid, but he thought his fears were justified. Experience had been an excellent teacher.
He reached for the meat and forked a thick slice of roast beef onto his plate, then passed the platter to Caroline.
Maggie folded her arms and stared defiantly at Grady. “I’m not eating until Richard’s here.”
“Maggie, please,” Caroline cajoled. She glanced at Grady, her eyes apologetic.
“Grady yelled at Richard.”
Once again Grady was the culprit. “I shouldn’t have yelled, should I?” He was careful to speak in a low quiet voice. “I do that sometimes without thinking, but I wasn’t angry at you.”
“You were mad at Richard.”
No use lying about it. “Yes, I was.”
“And now he won’t come to dinner.”
“I think Richard has other reasons for not showing up,” Caroline explained as she placed a scoop of mashed potatoes on her daughter’s plate. “Do you want one of Savannah’s yummy buttermilk biscuits?”
Maggie hesitated for a long moment before she shook her head. “I won’t eat without Richard.”
“Did I hear someone call my name?” Richard asked cheerfully as he stepped into the kitchen. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, not sounding the least apologetic. He pulled out his chair, sat down beside Maggie and reached for the meat platter all in a single graceful movement.
Caroline’s child shot Grady a triumphant look as if to say she’d known all along that Richard hadn’t lied to her.
Grady’s appetite vanished. For every step he advanced in his effort to make friends with Maggie, he seemed to retreat two. Once more Richard had made him look like a fool in front of the little girl. And once more he’d allowed it to happen.
“Is it true you want to marry my mom?” Maggie asked Richard with such hopefulness that the question silenced all other conversation.
“Of course it’s true.” Richard chuckled, then winked at Caroline.
“I think you should,” Maggie said, hanging on Richard’s every word.
Grady didn’t speak again during the entire meal. Not that anyone noticed. Adored by Maggie, Richard was in his element, and he became the center of attention, joking and teasing, complimenting Savannah, even exchanging a brief joke with Laredo.
Caroline was quiet for a time, but soon, Grady noted, Richard had won her over just as he had everyone else. Despite his disappointment, Grady marveled at his brother’s talent. Richard had always savored attention, whereas Grady avoided the limelight. It had never bothered him before, but now he felt a growing resentment, certain Caroline was about to be caught by the force of Richard’s spell. Other than Ellie Fraiser, Grady had never known any woman to resist his brother’s charms. Ellie was the exception, and only because she was already in love with Glen Patterson, although neither of them had recognized the strength of their feelings for each other—until Richard interfered. Indirectly, and definitely without intending it, Richard had brought about something good. Still, if it hadn’t been for Glen in Ellie’s life, Grady wondered what would have happened. That, at least, was one worry he’d escaped.