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??She is stubborn.” That much he agreed on.
“A real man never speaks ill of his woman, remember that.” Flo frowned. “You better treat her right, you hear me? If you don’t, I will come back from the grave and drive you crazy with haunting.”
“Does this mean I have your blessing?” he asked.
“I’m a mite disappointed you’ve waited so long, I’ll be honest.” She sat back in her chair, narrowing her eyes a bit. “First, you tell me why you want to marry my girl, why you deserve her, and we’ll see.”
He swallowed, knowing the truth wasn’t the right way to go. “She’s Annabeth, Flo. Guess I’ve come to realize what a...an amazing woman she is.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Flo’s eyebrows went up.
“If you’re looking for poems and pretty words, I’m going to disappoint you.” He chuckled. “I might be good at charming the pants off a woman, but courting’s another thing.”
Flo popped another chocolate into her mouth. “Try.”
He shook his head, staring out the window. He knew Flo wasn’t trying to irritate him. She had every right to make sure he was worthy of Annabeth. Problem was, he knew he wasn’t. His words were rushed. “You want me to tell you she’s smart and sassy? That she’s so damn pretty sometimes it hurts to look at her? Or making her smile makes a shi— A bad day good?” His throat felt tight, his palms sweaty... “I don’t deserve her. But I’ll try to. Every damn day.” Tripping over his words was nothing new. He could only hope he’d manage the right ones when he was on his knee in front of Annabeth. He looked at Flo, staring at the box of chocolates in her lap. “Flo?”
“You’ll do just fine.” Her smile wavered, her gaze wandering out the large window in her room. “But marry my girl soon. Hannah wouldn’t be much good without you, Michael.”
Ryder nodded, sad that Flo was gone.
“Now that you have a baby on the way, you need to be more careful,” Flo added. This was news to Ryder. Had Annabeth’s parents been in the same position he and Annabeth were in? Flo continued, “You drive too fast. Man wasn’t meant to zoom around going eighty miles an hour in big metal cans. Slow down, son, take time to stop and smell the roses. Make some memories to treasure. Life goes by too quick, I promise you. It’s your memories that will keep you company long after everyone else is gone.”
Ryder nodded again, wondering if Flo had said as much to Michael. Annabeth’s parents died in a car crash. “I promise.” And he meant it. She might be talking to Michael, but he’d take her advice to heart. “I’ll take good care of her.”
Flo nodded. “She’s my only baby, my joy. See that you do.”
He didn’t know the little person growing inside of Annabeth, but he knew the baby was his. And, in the past twelve hours, he’d come to terms with that. It twisted his heart to think of the loss Flo had lived through. Hannah had been her only child, Annabeth her only grandchild.
“Mrs. Chenault?” Nancy came in, small white cup in hand. “We have your vitamins.”
“Oh, goodie.” Flo’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “They keep telling me these are vitamins, like I don’t know better?” She rolled her eyes—just like Annabeth.
Ryder smiled.
“Then we have our backgammon tournament,” Nancy continued.
“Is that today?” Flo perked up. “We’ll have to wrap this up, Michael.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He stood, tucking the rings into his jeans pocket and putting on his hat. “I’ll go take care of my business, you go kick some backgammon butt.”
“Oh, I will.” She giggled, waving a quick goodbye before Nancy wheeled her in the direction of the activity center.
He couldn’t go to Annabeth’s house, not yet. His talk with Flo had put things in perspective. He couldn’t just drop by and ask her, straight out. If he was going to do it right, he needed to go home, clean up and think about what he was going to say. There was no doubt some arguing and rationalizing would be involved—Annabeth was good at that. So he had to be ready for whatever roadblock she might throw up and somehow manage to make it special.
But he didn’t stop at his small apartment over Hardy’s Garage. He kept driving, past the garage, past the school and Annabeth’s street, down Main Street. It was only as he turned his truck under the stone-and-wrought-iron entrance that he realized he was heading home to Boone Ranch.
He parked his truck in front of the Lodge, the bed-and-breakfast his father had operated and lived in for the past few years. Why he’d ended up here was a mystery. The last thing he wanted was one of his father’s disappointed looks or loaded silences. His father spoke volumes with a simple shake of his head. So why had he come here? He could go. No one knew he was here. But he knew.
He opened the truck door and climbed the steps, nodding at the group of visitors assembling for the night’s stargazing tour. It was one of the diversions his father had dreamed up for his guests. Bird-watching, nature photography and trail riding were others. Between Hunter’s efforts to work with the state on white-tailed and exotic deer population studies and Archer’s neighboring animal refuge, guests were treated to an almost safari-like experience. And people loved it, flocking from all over the country to visit Texas and stay on a working ranch. A ranch with every amenity and world-class cooking.
He stepped inside, dodging his nephew, Eli, as he ran by. Cody followed, laughing. The tantalizing scent of freshly baked cookies reached him.
“Eight, nine, ten,” his sister Renata’s voice echoed. “Ten more, boys.”
He checked his boots for mud, rested his hat on the hat tree and his coat on the peg beneath before heading into the great room. His father sat before the fire, his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose as he read over some ranching magazine. Seeing his father never failed to stir up years of self-doubt best left ignored. Or to remind him of his part in his mother’s death. He swallowed, speaking gruffly. “Dad.”
