Their Child?. Karen Rose Smith

      Narrow-eyed, Tate scowled at Tucker for several seconds. Then he grunted. “Damn. Molly told me you were asking about Lori Lee, but I didn’t think…” The sentence wandered off into nothing.

      “You didn’t think what?”

      “Well, now, Tuck. It’s not as if you’ve had time to get to know her. She’s been in town, what? A few days?”

      “Seven days as of tomorrow, and—”

      Tate interrupted, “You’ve never even been alone with her, have you?”

      “We were alone last night. We talked, Lori and me. We talked for hours.”

      “With the little boy right there the whole time.”

      “Brody was busy. On the pony. In the pool. Playing with Fargo.”

      “Okay. All right. You had one date, then.”

      “So?”

      “Well, you have to admit this is pretty damn sudden.”

      Tucker shrugged. “Sudden or not, I know what I want and Lori Lee and Brody are it—and come on. Think about how it was with you and Molly. You wanted her from the first. Don’t try to tell me you didn’t.”

      Tate shook his head. “It’s not the same. I knew Molly all my life without wanting her in the least. I only really saw her when she made me mad and ran for mayor.”

      Tucker raised his snifter in a salute. “That’s it. It’s the same with me and Lori. I knew her all my life. And then I finally saw her. At the Gas ‘n Go last Saturday, when she and Brody first got into town.”

      “All your life? You been outta town for about a third of your life. And for that matter, so has she.”

      “And your point is?”

      “Tuck. Listen. Yeah, I finally saw Molly. I realized I wanted Molly. I wanted her bad. But marry her? No way. I didn’t want to marry her until I knew she was having my baby. And I didn’t realize I loved her with all my heart till even later than that.”

      “Well, and that’s the difference between you and me, big brother. I can see what I want and know that it’s love from the get-go—or that it will be, in time.”

      “Naw.”

      “Yeah.”

      Tate sipped more brandy, frowned as he swallowed, and waded on in to the argument again. “What I’m telling you, Tucker, is love is a process. And it appears to me that you have skipped a few steps.”

      “I don’t agree.”

      “But you don’t even know her. You can’t. Not in any way that matters.”

      “I do know her. I knew her the minute I saw her last Saturday. She’s my future wife.”

      Tate looked at him long and hard. “Think of all the women you’ve been with.”

      Tucker had zero interest in doing that. “Why? What about them?”

      “They came and you went, now didn’t you?”

      “Very funny.”

      “I’m just trying to get you to see that you can’t exactly say you’ve ever been the marrying kind. You don’t know a whole lot about the hard work that goes into making a life with a woman.”

      “I’ve changed.”

      Tate considered that statement for several endless seconds. Finally, he allowed Tucker a grudging nod. “Maybe you have changed. Some.”

      “No. I’ve changed a lot.”

      “Still, Lori Lee’s only been a widow for what? A year?”

      “Yeah. So?”

      “Maybe she’s not ready to get married again. Maybe she loved her husband and still does. You considered that?”

      He hadn’t. The idea made him feel a little sick to his stomach. “She’s interested. I can see it in her eyes.”

      “And then there’s the boy to consider…”

      “I told you. I am considering Brody.”

      “It’s a big step, taking on a child to raise.”

      “I know it’s a big step.”

      “And then there’s whoever the hell blew through town eleven years ago and fathered that boy. You talked to Lori Lee about him yet?”

      Tucker was forced to confess, “No, I haven’t.”

      “Maybe you better. Maybe it would be a good idea to talk with her about her dead husband and Brody’s father before you go popping any important questions.”

      Tucker fully intended to do just that—eventually. “I don’t want to rush things.”

      Tate threw back his big dark head and let his deep laugh roll out. “You’re marryin’ her, it’s a done deal—but you don’t want to rush things?”

      Tucker shook his head and muttered, “I don’t know why I’m even talking to you about this.”

      “Well, I do. You need a little feedback and you realize I’m the man to give it to you.”

      “Is that what you call this? Feedback?”

      “That’s right. And Lori Lee’ll be headed home to…where does she live, now?”

      “San Antonio.”

      “She’ll be headed back to San Antonio in, what…?”

      “I don’t know. After the wedding, I guess. Unless I can get her to say yes before that.”

      Slowly, Tate smiled. “Better get crackin’.”

      Tucker grunted as he realized that Tate wasn’t completely averse to his plans, after all. “You SOB. You had me worried there.”

      Tate gave him a level look. “I just want you to be sure you’ve thought this through.”

      “I have.”

      “Glad to hear it.”

      “Why do you sound doubtful then?”

      “Listen. You want to marry Lori Lee, I say more power to you. Long as she wants to marry you.”

      “She will.”

      Tate tipped his snifter at Tucker. “See. There, now. That could be your problem. Don’t get too cocky, you hear what I’m sayin’? A man gets too cocky and the first thing he knows, a woman feels it’s her duty to pull the damn rug right out from under him.”

      “You’re talking about you and Molly, now. Not Lori and me.”

      “I’m talking about all women. And all men. Women love a man who knows what he wants and goes about getting it. He just shouldn’t be too sure of himself. A woman needs a man who can be humble when he has to.”

      Tucker stopped himself from rolling his eyes. “You’ve never been humble a day in your life, Tate.”

      “Oh, yeah. I have. I’ve been on my knees and don’t you doubt it. It wasn’t easy. Specially not the first time. But a man can get used to crawling now and then. For the right woman.”

      “I really don’t think that crawling will be necessary.”

      Tate only shook his head and reached for the brandy bottle to pour them both another drink.

      Saturday night, Lori’s mother served a rib roast so tender and juicy that when Heck carved it, the meat fell right off the bone. Heck said the blessing in his usual style: short and to the point.

      They started passing