a couch as a family, eating popcorn and watching television, and other flashes of my dad reading stories of lore beside my bed. He would tell tall tales of princes and princesses, dangers and dragons, and happily-ever-afters.
If I searched back hard enough, I had visions of a bedroom with posters of cats and dogs, as well as boy bands who rose and fell in popularity. I was indifferent as I recalled dinners with frozen food from the microwave and bowls of cereal while they both worked, leaving me alone, and homemade pancakes when they didn’t. Perhaps the true revelation of the night wasn’t the memories but the emotions that came with them.
None.
I was devoid of happiness or sadness when it came to my childhood. I couldn’t say that the Tates were neglectful nor could I recall them as being attentive. I simply knew they were there until they weren’t.
Never once had my dad—the man who raised me—insinuated that I wasn’t his flesh and blood. I recalled him as both a comforter and a disciplinarian. My mother took on both roles as well. There was never the threat of my father coming home to deliver a punishment. Perhaps as a child, I was unaware of friction beneath the surface. I had simply been a carefree child doing what children did until the day it was ripped out from under me.
“Miss Madeline,” Eloise said as she rushed across the pool deck with a blanket in her hands. “You will catch your death out here. You must be freezing.”
Before I could respond, she laid the plush blanket over my legs and tucked it attentively near my legs.
“May I get you something warm? Coffee or tea?”
I turned, peering up at her. “I need a ride to the airport.”
Surprised, she took a step backward. “But I thought…I was told you were staying.”
“Eloise, I’m sure you were.”
“Ms. Miller, have you been crying?”
Had I?
I reached up and wiped the moisture from my cheeks.
Eloise lowered herself with her hand on the arm of the lounge chair. “I’m sure the speed of this situation is a shock, but always remember that Mr. Elliott is a good man. He wants what’s best for you and Miss Ruby. I’ve known him for a long time.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I tucked my fingers into the warmth beneath my arms. When our gazes met, I asked, “What has he told you?”
Her neck straightened. “Ma’am, it isn’t my place.”
My volume rose. “What has he told you about me, about our arrangement?”
“He said that you needed help, and though he doesn’t like the recognition, I know that’s the kind of man he is, the kind who helps those who need it.” Her hand came to my arm. “While it isn’t my place, I must add that he’s also lonely. That isn’t a new development. The first Mrs. Elliott has been gone a long time, well, most of your life. We all hoped he’d decide to move on, not because we didn’t love Miss Trisha and McKenzie, we did. It was because we all care for him, too. It’s been hard on us to watch him when he’s alone. That’s why everyone here is thrilled that you agreed to marry him.”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I believe you’ve been misled.”
“I hope that isn’t the case.” She stood. “What may I bring you?”
My head shook as I once again looked out toward the barns and corrals. “I don’t need anything.”
“Eloise,” Marion’s booming voice came from the patio where we’d eaten breakfast the day before. His boots clipped determinedly across the brick and concrete deck, the sound growing louder as he neared. “Bring us coffee. Mrs. Elliott takes hers with cream as I’m sure you recall.”
Mrs. Elliott?
My head snapped toward Marion, yet his attention was on Eloise.
“And then we’ll eat breakfast in the dining room,” he said, “It’s too damn cold out here this morning. Damn Texas winters.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied with a smile as she turned away.
Once Eloise had disappeared into the house, Marion came to a stop near my legs. The gregarious personality from the tournament and yesterday morning was gone, replaced by the more solemn expression of last night. “Madeline, I went to your room to find it empty.”
“That’s because I couldn’t sleep.”
With a sigh, his long legs bent as he lowered himself to the lounge chair near my legs. “I had the same problem.”
My spine straightened. “The same? Were you having problems sleeping because you were once again reduced to a