Real Marriage Material

“Jeb?” Wiley repeated. “You asleep?”

“Yep.”

His uncle sighed. “You bein’ surly with me ain’t going to do anything more than earn you a second’s worth of satisfaction.”

Jeb hauled himself onto one elbow and peered across the room. “You don’t think I have the right to be put out with you for pullin’ that stunt today?”

“I didn’t say that—”

“Well, then, what would you say?”

“I was just tryin’ to help, son.”

“Right. I know what you were thinking, Wiley, and it wasn’t that Saved by the Belle could help any of us. At least not the way Mariah Duncan advertises she could. No, you saw her on that show and thought if you could just get her out here to meet me, lightning would strike us both, and there’d be the answer to all our troubles.” That’s what really chapped his hide about this whole deal. Wiley knew what had happened with Anita, and still he’d called Mariah out here.

The absurdity of it hit him afresh, as did every bit of his chagrin. “Good God, Wiley, what possessed you?”

“Well, there weren’t no listing in the Yellow Pages for Saved by the Ign’rant Hick Uncle!” his uncle shot back. “Or believe you me, I’d’ve called the number on both our accounts!”

There was a moment of silence in the room before the two men burst out laughing. Jeb let his head fall forward, shaking it slowly. He never could stay mad at Wiley for long.

“Come on, now. Admit it.. Didn’t you think she might make as likely a candidate for a real fine wife and mother as anyone else?” his uncle asked.

“Miss Junior League? Yeah, right.” All humor left him as Jeb scowled. “Besides, how could it possibly matter if I did?”

“I dunno. Seems to me I heard someone say a while back he’d try just about anything to keep Robbie.” Wiley grunted as he rolled over, for the first time in Jeb’s memory being the one to end the conversation, though not before delivering a parting morsel of food for thought, “You know, I always taught you and Cody that what you catch all depends on the bait you use.”

And just who were you thinking was which in this case? Jeb thought but didn’t ask. What would be the point? It didn’t matter what his opinion was of Mariah Duncan, just as it didn’t matter what she thought of him.

With a snort of self-disgust, Jeb flopped back on the bed, lacing his fingers behind his head and staring at the ceiling.

He had to admit, if only to himself, that the reason he’d been embarrassed at every turn today was because he had been attracted to Mariah Duncan, incredibly so, even with that touch-me-not haughtiness that put a man more in mind of a prim schoolteacher than a desirable woman.

Except he could tell, in that all-too-brief moment when she’d been pressed against him, that she didn’t lack for curves in all the right places. No, ma’am.

But it wasn’t his fancy for her looks that had him tossing and turning. That he could acknowledge for what it was, as he recognized her own surface fascination with him. Oh, yeah, he’d seen that look before.

No, it was Mariah’s demeanor that had socked him in the gut. How, he wondered, could he be even remotely captivated by some snobbish, butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-her-mouth Southern belle? Again?

But there had also been Mariah’s grace under fire, not to mention her continued kindness toward Robin even when he hadn’t been much friendlier than a badger, twice as gamey smelling and three times as wild-looking. And given those factors, she still hadn’t suggested it might be best for all concerned if Robin went to Lisa’s half sister, Anita.

Yes…Anita Babcock. Now, there was a Southern belle. Aside from Cody and Lisa’s funeral, he hadn’t seen her in over fourteen years, and had never faced her here on his own turf until her visit a month ago. She and her family had been passing through DFW Airport on their return from whatever country they’d been residing in to their new home in’Houston, had rented a car and “dropped in” to see Robin. It had been the first time, too, the Babcocks had seen where and how the girl was living. Which was fine with Jeb; he’d felt then and still felt he had nothing to hide or be ashamed of.

But Anita had picked the very day he, Wiley and Robin were spring-cleaning the store and boat house. The three of them had looked and probably smelled like something Lucy’d kept under the porch for a week.

And the result of that visit was that the Babcocks had come forward to say they simply couldn’t ignore their duty to provide a more appropriate environment for Robin than her present one.

Dammit, why couldn’t the woman leave him be? She’d gotten what she’d always wanted out of life, hadn’t she? A successful husband, two kids and a status life-style. Why must she now pass judgment on his?

But she had done so before, too.

Jeb stifled a sigh of frustration. Yes, he had only felt like this once before in his life—that who he was and what he did were not…enough. And the doubt had bombarded him repeatedly in the past two weeks since receiving the news about Anita intervening for custody of Robin.

With his edginess at a peak, Jeb flung back the covers and stood, clothed in his usual sleeping attire of a pair of briefs. He reached for the jeans he kept at the foot of his bed and slid them on before stepping out into the hallway and making his way to the kitchen. He was still unaccustomed to remembering to wear proper clothing in the common areas of the trailer, was used to walking about in or out of whatever he pleased as he had for the past twenty-five years. But that behavior wouldn’t do with a young lady in the house.

Jeb was unusually conscientious about that aspect of his guardianship. He knew part of the reason the court hadn’t waived the normal six-month period for awarding him adoption of his niece—as was often done in cases where the parties were related—was that of the very strikes against him thrown by Anita, now and fourteen years ago. He was a bachelor living with his own bachelor uncle in a trailer out on Lake Texoma, with no prospect of change.

Jeb filled a glass with tap water from the kitchen faucet, recalling how he’d stood here earlier this evening while doing dishes with Robin. They’d been almost through when she had spoken up, her cheeks flushing, about needing a permission slip signed for school. It was only after he’d read what she needed permission for that he understood her embarrassment at approaching him: the girls in her class were to see a film and presentation about puberty and how it would affect them.

At the bottom of the slip was the simple statement, “Mothers are invited to attend.”

Jeb’s fingers tightened reflexively around the glass. In the deepest corner of his heart, he had to wonder if a judge might not be right giving Robin to Anita. How quickly the girl responded to Mariah today told him a lot about Robin’s need for a mother. Though she never said a word, he knew the girl missed her mother. What kid wouldn’t?

He himself had been six years old when his parents had died, and he remembered Wiley saying once that when Jeb had come to live on Texoma, he’d been like a whelp weaned too soon from its mama. Cody had been older, and neither of their parents’ deaths had impacted him the same way as they had Jeb.

So make that twice, he realized. Twice in his life he’d been made to feel that he had not been enough—enough to keep his parents from leaving him.

Maybe because Robin was older, she would adjust more easily, as Cody had. But he and Cody had been boys; Robin was a girl, and she was entering that age when a girl needed a mother most.

And not just a mother. A mother for Robin should be someone…naturally tender, with a combination of gentle strength and kindness. So kind and soft—

Abruptly Jeb tipped his head back and slugged down the whole glass of water in three swallows, as if to distract his mind from such thoughts. Crazy thoughts they were, showing him how desperate he was becoming. He’d told Mariah he wasn’t going to take a wife just to give Robin a mother, but what if in doing so he managed to fill one or two needs of his own?

There were saner alternatives. Maybe his marital status wasn’t going to change soon, but why couldn’t he move the three of them—Robin, Wiley and himself—into town and take a job? He didn’t know what on earth kind it would be, but at least Robin might take up more-appropriate interests than learning to bait hooks or gut fish. Wouldn’t she be happier there, too?

Did it matter that something would die in him—and in Wiley—to leave here for the city?

Something would die in him, too, though, if he lost Robin.

Besides, Jeb had never dreamed of leaving the place he had come to as a grief-stricken orphan. He reckoned the reason he had set down such roots here, which continued to thrust ever deeper, was that as a boy, he had feared he would never have a place where he belonged again. That he would never be loved or needed. Memories of those fears were why Jeb encouraged Robbie to become involved in the fishing business, make her feel that it was part hers, too. To exclude her from joining in, from being a part of their family completely, would permanently disable a sense of hopefulness in the girl that had just barely learned to stand on two feet again.

Yes, he and Robin shared a special bond, having lost their parents and coming to live on Texoma with their only uncle. She was all either he or Wiley had left of Cody.

She was also all that Anita had left of Lisa. Sure, right now Robin was resistant to the prospect of living with her aunt, but perhaps that was because Robin didn’t know Anita very well, she and her husband having been on the move so much. Maybe if Robin got a chance to get to know the whole family, see how she fit in, she’d feel differently. Maybe he would, too….

Dropping his chin, Jeb stared at his hand, barely visible in the dimness. Whether his fingers were turned white by the half-light or the way he gripped the edge of the sink, he didn’t know.

But one thing he did know with soul-deep certainty: he simply could not lose that little girl.

Chapter Four (#ulink_bea87415-3084-5a89-b602-ddf06c9e1638)

Nearly out of breath, Mariah entered the crowded bar where she was to meet Jeb Albright, painfully aware that she was late by a good twenty minutes. So much for impressing clients with your punctuality. Of course, Jeb wasn’t a client; he’d merely called and said since he had to come into town this afternoon, perhaps they could arrange a place to meet and he could pick up the booklet she’d promised Robin. So this appointment was just a matter of convenience for them both, and Mariah had no reason to think it might be otherwise, although her brain raced with several possibilities. Almost as much as her heart

For whatever reason, she hadn’t been able to get Jeb Albright—or his niece, of course—out of her mind in the few days since she’d learned of their plight.

Then her pulse kicked up into another gear as she spied him. He was again dressed in jeans, these fairly new, though, and from the looks of them, as well fitting as the others he’d worn. His collared shirt, open at the throat, was clean and pressed but otherwise unremarkable. In this light, she saw that rather than dark brown, his hair was brunette shot through with gold highlights, and just as shaggy as it had appeared the other day.

As if he had heard her thoughts, Jeb looked up, catching her gaze, and ran a hand through those unruly waves. The action only marginally improved his hair’s arrangement, making him seem a little less wild, although—strangely— no less appealing.