“I seem to recall that you just agreed to be my friend,” Letter to Reader Title Page Dedication About the Author Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Copyright
“I seem to recall that you just agreed to be my friend,”
Tony said.
Mariah pressed her back against the door. “I don’t know why I did that. I prefer that we remain strangers.”
“It’s too late. We’re way beyond the stranger stage. Or don’t you know the evolutionary steps of the man-woman relationship?”
Mariah, who didn’t have a clue what he meant, shook her head.
“I’ll be glad to teach them to you. At stage one, we’re strangers. Stage two is the acquaintance phase.... After friends, of course, comes lovers,” Tony continued, taking one last step forward. “Lovers is my favorite stage.” He grinned.
“There’s just so much to do in this phase. So...very...much...”
A panicky sidelong glance revealed that his arms and body pinned her to the spot. She should have punched him.
Instead, she melted into his kiss....
Dear Reader,
You’ll find the heartwarming themes of love and family in our November Romance novels. First up, longtime reader favorite Arlene James portrays A Bride To Honor. In this VIRGIN BRIDES title, a pretty party planner falls for a charming tycoon...whom another woman seeks to rope into a loveless marriage! But can honorable love prevail?
A little tyke takes a tumble, then awakes to ask a rough-hewn rancher, Are You My Daddy? So starts Leanna Wilson’s poignant, emotional romance between a mom and a FABULOUS FATHER who “pretends” he’s family. Karen Rose Smith finishes her enticing series DO YOU TAKE THIS STRANGER? with Promises. Pumpkins and Prince Charming. A wealthy bachelor lets a gun-shy single mom believe he’s just a regular guy. Will their fairy-tale romance survive the truth?
FOLLOW THAT BABY, Silhouette’s exciting cross-line continuity series, comes to Romance this month with The Daddy and the Baby Doctor by star author Kristin Morgan. An ex-soldier single dad butts heads with a beautiful pediatrician over a missing patient Temperatures rise, pulses race—could marriage be the cure? It’s said that opposites attract, and when The Cowboy and the Debutante cozy up on a rustic ranch...well, you’ll just have to read this TWINS ON THE DOORSTEP title by Stella Bagwell to find out! A hairdresser dreams of becoming a Lone Star Bride when a handsome stranger passes through town. Don’t miss the finale of Linda Vamer’s THREE WEDDINGS AND A FAMILY miniseries!
Belovod authors Lindsay Longford, Sandra Steffen, Susan Meier and Carolyn Zane return to our lineup next month, and in the new year we launch our brand-new promotion, FAMILY MATTERS. So keep coming back to Romance!
Happy Thanksgiving!
Mary-Theresa Hussey
Senior Editor, Silhouette Romance
Please address questions and book requests to:
Silhouette Reader Service
U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269
Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3
This book is dedicated to a special long-distance friend,
Dora E. Pendetgraft
LINDA VARNER
confesses she is a hopeless romantic. Nothing is more thrilling, she believes, than the battle of wits between a man and a woman who are meant for each other but just don’t know it yet! Linda enjoys writing romance and considers herself very lucky to have been both a RITA finalist and a third-place winner in the National Readers’ Choice Awards in 1993.
A full-time federal employee, Linda lives in Arkansas with her husband and their two children. She loves to hear from readers. Write to her at 813 Oak St., Suite 10A-277, Conway, AR 72032.
SAMPSON FAMILY TREE
Chapter One
A trained chimp could drive this car, thought Mariah Ashe with a soft sigh of boredom. Nonetheless, she kept her eyes glued to the two-lane highway, arrow straight at this point and without hill or valley, vehicle or pedestrian to break the monotony.
Most days, that was.
Today Mariah actually spotted a suspicious dot miles ahead, marring the flat Southern Texas horizon. Instantly her curiosity was piqued. And as the car Mariah was driving zipped past the white lines dividing Hwy 385, she watched with interest how the dot grew in size until it materialized into a pickup truck with concessionaire’s trailer, parked on the shoulder up ahead.
“I’ve seen that rig before!” exclaimed Opal Crawford, one of Mariah’s passengers and half owner of the car.
“I have, too!” chimed in the other half owner, Opal’s twin sister Ruby Smythe. “Slow down, Mariah! We want a better look.”
Mariah willingly did as requested, braking the car until it barely rolled past the beautiful rig. Long and jet-black, the trailer sported a Texas license plate and side window flaps that could be raised to reveal whatever merchandise was inside. The words Tony Mason, Freelance Artist were painted on the doors of both the trailer and the antique truck, which gleamed even though the sun barely peeked through the storm clouds that had hovered for days.
“Tony Mason. Tony Mason. Goodness that name rings a bell,” Opal murmured as Mariah drove slowly by the fancy rig. “I’m sure we’ve met him somewhere, sister.”
“So am I,” answered Ruby. “But where?”
Opal offered choices. “San Francisco? Santa Fe?”
“You two really have seen this trailer before?” Mariah asked as she gradually began to accelerate again. She didn’t know why she was surprised. The twins had relatives all over the country and loved to visit them all.
“Oh, yes, indeed,” Opal said. “It was at...at...” She frowned, clearly struggling to remember.
“I know!” exclaimed Ruby. “The Royal Gorge in Colorado Springs.”
“That’s it,” Opal agreed as she tossed her short, silvery-white hair and gave the armrest a slap. “Four years ago. We were there for third cousin Elsie’s stepdaughter’s niece’s wedding.”
“Yes,” said Ruby. “John Andrew—that’s cousin Elsie’s stepson—bought a cap, and his wife, Misty, bought a T-shirt.”
Not for the first time, Mariah, who had no relatives of her own, silently marveled at the number of people in the twins’ family.
“Where do you suppose Tony Mason is right now?” asked Opal.
“Probably on foot somewhere ahead, though I don’t know how he could leave that beautiful truck behind.” Ruby craned her neck and looked ahead, as did both her companions. “Speed up a little, Mariah. Maybe we can catch up and offer him a ride into town.”
“Are you kidding?” Mariah answered, aghast. “I’m not about to let some stranger in this car.”
“But Tony’s not a stranger at all,” protested Ruby. “Why, he chatted with us the whole time he airbrushed Misty’s T-shirt. Told us all about his travels and his work.”
“And that makes him safe?” Mariah shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t think I have to remind you what happened to Sarah Louise Riley.” She referred to a friend of the seventy-eight-year-old twins, equally youthful and impetuous and recently robbed of her money by a hitchhiker she should never have picked up in the first place.
“Poor Sarah.” Opal shook her head in sympathy.
“Poor, poor Sarah,” echoed Ruby.
Pleased to have made her point, Mariah turned her full attention to her driving and put the truck and trailer out of her mind. She thought instead about her home, where they were heading—a pretty, upstairs apartment in the oversize house owned and shared by the vivacious twins, both widows with grown children.
Ruby and Opal were good, generous landladies, and she loved them—the reason she’d agreed to this morning’s impulsive shopping trip to Mexico. Thoroughly exhausted, she could only wonder where her landladies got their energy. Why, those dear women could easily have browsed for Christmas presents another hour or two in the festive shops of old Mexico while she had wilted in temperatures that felt more like the Fourth of July than mid-December.
“It’s him! It’s him!” Ruby suddenly exclaimed, grabbing Mariah by the shoulder.
“It is indeed!” Opal eagerly agreed.
A glance ahead revealed a man walking on the shoulder of the road. Dressed in form-fitting jeans, a snow-white T-shirt and boots, he turned and walked backward so he could scope them out. A heartbeat later he flung out his right arm and raised his thumb—universal signal that he needed a ride.
Mariah was not surprised to feel the twins’ gazes shift to her. “I am not picking him up,” she announced, pressing her foot firmly on the gas pedal. Immediately the car gained speed. The man sprang to life at once, taking a giant step directly into their path. Mariah screamed and stomped on the brake. The car fishtailed, then skidded to a stop...mere inches from the hitchhiker, who’d now dropped to his knees in the middle of the highway and raised his clasped hands to the sky, literally begging to be rescued.
Nauseous at the near miss, furious at his blatant stupidity, Mariah could only cling to the steering wheel for long moments and stare across the hood of the car at him. What a sight met her gaze—damp, golden hair in need of a trim, eyes the color of bitter chocolate, chiseled chin and jawline.... Mariah’s heartbeat changed from the thudding tempo of fear to a cadence of sheer sexual appreciation. Then righteous indignation took over. Throwing open the door, she sprang out of the car.
“Are you crazy?” Mariah yelled as she rounded the front of the vehicle.
“No, ma’am, but I am desperate,” the good-looking stranger answered. Getting to his feet, he flashed a smile so dazzling it put Mel Gibson’s to shame. Mariah promptly tripped over her own feet and had to grab the bumper to keep from sprawling on the hot asphalt.
“My rig broke down a few miles back. You probably passed it. Could you give me a lift to the next town?”
Mariah quickly reined in her scattered wits. “I never pick up hitchhikers,” she stated with a toss of her long brown hair. Keeping her gaze just above his left shoulder, Mariah deliberately avoided those piercing dark eyes as well as the deliciously masculine anatomy below them. “I will send you a wrecker, however.” Spinning around, she walked back to the car to quickly slip behind the steering wheel again and catch her breath.
A glance through the windshield revealed that the man hadn’t moved a muscle, but stared after her as if he were as stunned as she that she’d actually rejected him.
“We’re not picking him up?” Opal asked, incredulous.
“We are not!” snapped Mariah, whose experiences with good-looking men had left her intolerant of the species. This specimen particularly bothered her, perhaps because he’d so easily exhumed hormones she’d long since buried.
Ruby promptly scooted over to the back left window and rolled it down. “Can we give you a ride?” she called out, obviously taking matters into her own hands.
Mariah gasped; the stranger grinned and strode to that side of the car.
“You’ve got room for one more?” He ducked down to peer through the open window at Ruby.
“If his name is Tony Mason,” Ruby coyly answered.
“That’s my name,” he said. “Have we met before?”
“We sure have.” Ruby reached over to open the car door.
Mariah’s quick glance in the rearview mirror revealed that Ruby, who’d divorced three husbands before burying her fourth, positively simpered at the man now getting into the back seat with her.
“You do look familiar now that I think about it.” His gaze shifted to Opal. “You, too,” he said to her with a rumbly laugh at his own cleverness.
The women—identical twins—giggled like teenagers at his joke.
Mariah nearly choked. Opal, a survivor of a fifty-fiveyear marriage to the same man, was usually much more levelheaded. Today she seemed no less impressed by the handsome stranger’s flattery than her twin.
“Let’s get going, dear,” Ruby said, leaning up to tap Mariah’s shoulder. “I’m sure Tony is past ready to get to town.”
He’s not the only one, Mariah thought, by now thoroughly appalled by Ruby’s ridiculous flirting. Aloud, she said nothing, of course. Unlike her naive landladies, Mariah knew the dangers of stalking to a stranger...even one as gorgeous as Tony Mason and especially one she’d just picked up on the side of the road.
At that moment his gaze locked with Mariah’s in the mirror. She noted how sweat beaded his sunkissed brow, how his honey blond hair curled damply at the temples and looked darker than the rest. His firm jawline, in need of a shave, hinted at strength of will just as his neck hinted at surprising strength of muscle. His straight nose, full lips and high cheekbones completed the picture of rugged good looks.
No wonder Opal and Ruby now panted after him. He represented temptation with a capital T...and not just because of physical beauty. No, the mystery of him undoubtedly beguiled the twins as much. That, and his lostboy demeanor. He appealed to both the woman and mother in each of them.
But not to Mariah, who knew all about good-looking wanderers who kept a woman in every town.
“Thanks for changing your mind about letting me ride,” Tony said to her via the mirror. “And for stopping in the first place.”
As if I had a choice, Mariah silently fumed, though she still said nothing aloud.
“I was beginning to think I’d landed in the Twilight Zone or something—” he chuckled, seemingly oblivious to her displeasure “—and was the only human alive.”
Opal giggled again, a sound that further grated on Mariah’s nerves. Still uttering no response, she shifted her attention to the road and tried to ignore the conversation around her, but with little luck. Her driving continued to require minimal concentration even though the road had finally begun to curve a little and the scenery now included trees and an occasional house or barn. A few gently rolling hills could actually be seen in the distance, heralding civilization.
“You really remember us?” Ruby gave him a hopeful smile.
“Sure I do,” Tony answered. “We met in...um... er—”
“Colorado,” interjected Opal.
“That’s right,” he said. “At the...um...er—”
“Royal Gorge,” Ruby told him.
“Of course.” He beamed at them. “So how on earth have you two ladies been?”
“Just fine,” Ruby said. “And yourself?”
“Fine...fine. Busy.”
“Are you still doing those book covers?”
Mariah, who wasn’t a bit fooled by Tony’s glib tongue, saw his surprise, witnessed his quick recovery. “We did talk about my secret life, didn’t we?”
Opal and Ruby nodded in unison.
“We fully intended to locate one of the book covers you’d done and buy it,” Opal told him, “but never got around to it.”
“That’s okay,” Tony said. “Somehow I can’t picture either of you reading fantasy fiction. In fact, I’d guess love stories are more your cup of tea.” Though he addressed Opal, his gaze remained locked with Mariah’s.
“Oh, no,” Opal answered, “we leave those to Mariah, there. She’s a sucker for romance.”
Oh great...tell him all my secrets, she thought
“Mariah.” Tony Mason said her name slowly, almost as if trying it on for size. “Lovely,” he added with a wink.
Mariah tensed and turned to stare down Opal.
But Opal chattered on. “Her last name is Ashe, A-S-H-E. She’s a hairdresser. I’m Opal Crawford, and that’s my sister, Ruby Smythe, in case you’ve forgotten. We’re both widows. Mariah is single.”
Geez Loueeze! Mariah almost blurted.
Tony said nothing, but his gaze burned a hole in the back of Mariah’s head. By sheer determination, she glued her own gaze to the road.
“Where are you from, Tony?” Ruby asked. “If I knew, it’s slipped my mind.”
“Well, I was born here in Texas, but these days home is wherever I park my truck and set up shop. I guess you could call me a man of many homes.”
And Mariah would bet he had to slip in the back door of each.
Ruby sniffed the air loudly. “My, you smell sexy. What’s that cologne you’re wearing?”
As if you didn’t know, Mariah thought.
“Machismo...a gift from my mother last Christmas.”
“I believe my second husband liked that.” Ruby made a big show of sniffing the air again, even though she’d given her son a bottle of the same cologne the past two Christmases. “Yes, that’s definitely what Kenneth wore. He was a man’s man, too.”
Mariah couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“Where were you headed today?” asked Opal.
“Amarillo,” Tony answered, “to spend the holidays with my folks. Luckily it’s not for another ten days, so I should still arrive in plenty of time. I’ve never missed a Christmas with them yet.”
“It must be so exciting to move around,” Opal murmured with a telling look at Mariah, who was a very verbal proponent of another kind of existence.
“Most days I really enjoy it,” Tony answered. Mariah wasn’t surprised. He had that gypsy look about him. In fact, Mariah knew his type well, having had her heart broken by not one, but two guys with the same mysterious appeal, before she wised up and swore off them five years ago. Now she only dated men she believed would make good husbands—boring men according to the twins.
They thought she should hook up with a rogue who could put some excitement in what they considered her mundane, excessively ordered existence. If only they knew about the rogues she’d already met and fallen for.
“Where are we headed, anyway?” Tony asked, gazing out the window.
“Pleasant Rest, population 3,578,” Ruby told him. “All three of us live there.”
“Is there a good mechanic in town?”
Opal nodded. “Oh, yes, indeed. Frank Patterson’s boy, Micah, has a garage on Pine Street. We always take this car to him if we have a problem. He’s very good.”
“Any idea how late he works?” Tony asked. In the mirror, Mariah saw him glance worriedly at his watch.
“Until five o’clock, I think.”
“It’s almost that now.”
“And we’re almost there. In fact, it’s just around this curve.”
In spite of the stranger in the back seat, Mariah took great pleasure in maneuvering the gently sloping curve to which Opal referred. Almost at once a wrought-iron Welcome to Pleasant Rest sign came into view—a weathered greeting that for years had stood there, according to the twins. Twinkle lights had been strung on it in honor of the season, and Mariah felt the usual tug at her heart, remembering the first time she’d rounded that same curve and seen the little town about this time of year. She’d known in an instant that she’d found herself a home. Today, as always, she felt the joy again.
And what did their footloose passenger think of Pleasant Rest? she had to wonder, glancing in the mirror to find out. His face held no emotion whatsoever.
So he wasn’t impressed. Well, Mariah hadn’t expected him to be. He was a man on the move, after all—a man who didn’t appreciate simple joys such as sleeping in the same bed every night, greeting the same partner every morning, planting a flower garden and then being around to watch it bloom.
With great relief she spied Micah Patterson’s repair shop two blocks ahead. The raised garage door indicated he hadn’t closed yet—another blessing.
Mariah pulled right into the graveled parking lot and braked the car. Tony Mason opened his door at once. Her gaze on the mirror, Mariah saw him proffer his right hand to Ruby. When Ruby gave him hers, he raised it to his lips and kissed the back of it—gallantry that put Ruby in a near faint. At once Opal stuck her hand out, too.
Brother! Mariah thought. She kept her face straight and her gaze on the white, wooden garage, determined not to shake Tony’s hand or even say goodbye to him.
“Thanks for the lift.” His words, warm against Mariah’s hair, caught her off guard, since he’d leaned so very close to say them. She jumped and turned her head, only to find herself eye to eye with him.
“Y-you’re welcome,” she stammered, then could’ve bitten off her tongue. He wasn’t welcome. Not at all. Not in this car. Not in this town. And especially not in their lives. Thank goodness she would never see him again. Mariah quickly turned her face away from his and stared at nothing out the window.
The twins, for all their years’ experience with husbands and sons, still knew little about men. Mariah, on the other hand, knew too much. Growing up in New Orleans—The Big Easy—she’d met Tony’s kind every day and watched her mother fall victim to so many of them. Mariah herself had acted just as foolishly in later years and could easily recognize smooth-talking charmers who survived by preying on innocent women.
The slam of the door startled Mariah from her painful childhood memories. She saw Tony walk up to the garage and begin a conversation with Micah. At once she backed the car onto the street and headed for home, a large house across town. As she put distance between the car and Tony, she began to feel better, safer.
“Wasn’t he a pleasant young man?” murmured Opal after several minutes of silence.
“And such a talented artist,” added Ruby.
“He’s an artist, all right,” Mariah told them. “A con artist who can’t be trusted.”
Opal gave her a wondering look and a sad sigh. “Don’t you think that’s a bit of an overreaction? I mean, all he did was accept a ride. We know little else about him.”
Mariah shrugged.
“I’m beginning to think you’re prejudiced against handsome men,” Opal commented.
Ruby nodded firmly at Mariah in the mirror. “Me, too.”
“I have my reasons,” Mariah stated, and then turned the car into the twins’ driveway. She killed the engine and flipped a switch to release the trunk latch. It popped open with a soft thump.
“I’d love to hear those reasons.” Opal handed Mariah her leather handbag. “If you feel like talking about the past, that is.”
Up until now—over five years—Mariah never had...at least beyond an amusing anecdote here and there about life with a psychic mother, who could give advice on everyone’s love affairs but her own. Perhaps it was time to tell them the not-so-funny stuff, she decided. And if not that, then at least enough so they would realize she knew what she talked about when she summed up Tony Mason, freelance artist.
“Actually, I do feel like talking.”
“Then why don’t we go in and make some tea?” Ruby eagerly suggested.
“Yes, why don’t we?” Opal agreed.
Mariah gave both of those dear, nosy ladies an affectionate smile. “That sounds absolutely wonderful,” she murmured before getting out of the car and assisting with the twins’ many packages.
Less than a half hour later found the three of them seated at the kitchen table sipping spiced tea and munching on the sugar cookies baked by Opal on Saturday.
“I don’t know how much Emerald has told you,” Mariah ventured to say, referring to the twins’ older sister. Emerald Pierson owned a pottery shop in New Orleans. Mariah, working in a beauty shop next door to it, had styled her hair for years—as she now styled the twins’—in the process forming a fast friendship that eventually resulted in a business loan and some valuable advice.
“Only that you were having some difficulties and needed a fresh start.”
“That’s the understatement of the year,” Mariah answered with a dry laugh. “When I left New Orleans, I left behind a no-good boyfriend, a dingy apartment and a streak of bad luck that began the day I turned fourteen and came home from school to learn that my mother had been killed in an automobile accident.”
“How sad for you.” Ruby offered Mariah another cookie, which she refused with a shake of her head.
“Oh, I managed all right, thanks to social services and my mother’s friends. I even lived in some wonderfully stable foster homes...quite a change from living with a woman who always followed her heart.” Mariah rested her forehead in her hands and stared at the tabletop. “You can’t imagine how many wannabe musicians she brought home and fed. Then there were the sidewalk artists, the bartenders, the jazz singers...” She laughed without humor. “She just couldn’t resist the stranger in town. You’d think I’d learn from her mistakes, wouldn’t you? Well, I finally did, but not before I took in a couple of deadbeats of my own. And you wonder why I didn’t like Tony Mason.”
“But he seemed so nice,” murmured Ruby, frowning. “Not like a deadbeat at all.”
“Believe me,” retorted Mariah, “If I was the least bit attracted to him, he’s not a nice young man.”
“Are you saying you only go for guys who are bad for you?” Ruby asked. She leaned forward in her eagerness for the truth, and now had to rescue the ruffle on her dress from her teacup.
Mariah grabbed up a napkin and began to dab at the pastel floral fabric. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. It’s a genetic flaw, passed down from my mother and the reason I only date guys I don’t go for—that is, men who’ll make rock-solid husbands.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” said Ruby, rising to set her glass in the sink. “Opal and I have wondered what on earth you see in Willard Reynolds.” She referred to the superintendent of schools in Pleasant Rest, a fifty-year-old with several college degrees and a mother who wouldn’t cut the apron strings.
“Absolutely nothing,” Mariah told them with a laugh. She tossed down her napkin and rose to set her own glass in the sink. “I do admire his house and his job, though.” She gave them both a long look. “I guess I must sound awfully mercenary to you.”
“Actually you sound sensible...way too sensible.” Opal joined them at the sink and, after getting rid of her glass, framed Mariah’s face in her hands. “I want more than anything for you to be happy. I don’t think you ever will be if you marry a man for what he isn’t.”
“Or what he has,” added Ruby, her expression showing concern.
“I’m doing what I have to do to stay on the straight and narrow,” answered Mariah, taking Opal’s hands in hers. She squeezed, then released them. “I know where I’ve gone wrong in my life and don’t intend to make the same mistakes again. Most important, I’m happy.”
“Are you, Mariah? Are you really?” Ruby put her arm around Mariah and leaned close to hear the reply.
“I’m ecstatic,” Mariah assured her friend, a half truth. Of late the days had begun to drag and adventure to call...undoubtedly the reason she tried to drive past Tony that afternoon. She knew instinctively that he personified all that she’d left behind, all that she secretly missed.
And all that she should not, could not, would not let herself have again.
“You were really attracted to Tony?”
Opal’s question made Mariah frown. “He’s a very good-looking guy,” she said, hedging.
“And you were really attracted to him?”
“I only talked to the man for a second.”
“But were you attracted to him?”
“Yes!” Mariah almost screamed the admission, then felt bad for doing it. “And don’t you understand how that tells me he’s bad?”
Opal and Ruby exchanged decidedly worried glances before Ruby spoke. “I think you’re wrong about Tony, and I’m certain time would prove me right. But never mind that. I’m wondering what will happen if you’re someday attracted to someone simply because he’s the man of your dreams.”
Mariah bubbled with laughter. “I admit that the books I read are full of that kind of stuff, but there’s no such thing in real life.”
“Oh, but you’re wrong,” protested Opal, clearly appalled by Mariah’s pragmatism—at least from the twins’ point of view.
“And you call me a romantic?” Mariah laughed again. “Look ladies, I know exactly what I want in a man— family ties, a heart of gold and a steady job. Simple. And no other man is worth risking my hard-won independence. Now, I think I’ve explained myself very well, don’t you?”
“You have, indeed,” Ruby answered with another worried look at her sister.
“And we’re all clear on this?”
“We are.”
Affection for the two of them suddenly softened Mariah’s heart. “Please don’t worry about me or try to change my mind.”
“Okay,” replied Ruby, “but only if you’ll promise us that you won’t marry Willard Reynolds.”
That wasn’t hard to do, since he wasn’t in the market for a wife, dam him. “I promise. There, feel better?”
“Absolutely!” both women exclaimed in unison, at which all three burst into laughter.
Their good moods prevailed right through a light dinner consisting of salads and buttered homemade bread, eaten in front of the television a couple of hours later. After the meal Mariah returned to the kitchen to wash up their few dishes. Just as she finished her task, Opal entered the room through the swing door, which creaked loudly, reminding Mariah the hinges needed a drop of oil.
She immediately dug around for the oil can in the storage area under the sink. Opal hovered nearby, clearly thoughtful. When Mariah found the can, she walked to the door and began to work on the bottom hinge. Opal followed but said nothing, though she obviously had something on her mind.
Finally Mariah prompted her to speak with a soft “What’s up?”
“Ruby and I have been talking,” Opal began, her blue eyes misty with emotion, “and we’re sure we could find you a suitable husband...that is, if you’d let us—only because you don’t trust your own judgment.”
“And I suppose Tony Mason would be a candidate?” Mariah answered, pausing in her work.
“We are positive you’re wrong about him,” Opal admitted.
“Hmm. Well, I appreciate the offer, but I prefer to find my own man.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.” Opal sounded so distressed that Mariah impulsively wrapped her arms around the woman and gently patted her back.
In the distance the doorbell rang.
Pulsuz fraqment bitdi.