A Texas Hero

He held up his hands. “Okay. Okay.”

“My mom died in childbirth when I was ten. My baby brother died, too. She started hemorrhaging in her seventh month and the doctors couldn’t stop it. Dad and I were devastated. Mom was the foundation of our lives, and we didn’t know how to live without her. But eventually we had to start living again.”

“That couldn’t have been easy for a ten-year-old.”

“No, but time slowly coated the pain with lovely memories. It drew my dad and me closer. When I was fifteen, he started dating. That was a shock.” He could feel her moving restlessly. “The first time I met the woman I hated her. I thought she was after my dad’s money, but then I found out she had money from her wealthy first husband. So I told her she could never take my mother’s place and she would never be my mother.”

“Wow. You must have been a real bitch at fifteen.”

“I was hurt and I guess I thought if I hated her enough, he’d stop seeing her.”

“And he didn’t?”

“No. I apologized to both of them, but things never got better. When I moved into a dorm at the University of Texas, they got married and Gayle moved into our home. She slept in my mother’s bed. That drove me crazy.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. It was my mom’s dream house. She designed it, decorated it. It was hers.”

“Did you get over that feeling?”

“Well, Dad finally sold the house and built Gayle her own home.”

“Because of your feelings.”

“Yes. I’m an awful person. Aren’t you glad you dragged that out of me?”

“Nope, but I’m seeing you in a whole new light.”

“As a bitch?”

“Sort of.”

She leaped onto his mattresses and punched him in the shoulder. “Oh, crap, that’s like hitting a wall.” She rubbed her hand.

“Then don’t do it.”

“Then don’t call me a bitch.” She sank down by him, her hip touching his thigh, which was too close for his comfort. Way too close.

“I didn’t. You did,” he pointed out and knew he should move away. But he didn’t. “I hope things got better.”

“I grew up and realized Dad deserved a life of his own. I got caught up in college life, dated, met Doug, the man of my dreams, or so I thought. Gayle and I maintain an amicable truce. Chloe and I have dinner with them once a week and Dad keeps Chloe when I need someone. Like this morning.”

“Since you’re big on talking, have you tried it with Gayle?”

“Yes, but the battle lines were drawn with my teenage behavior and Gayle can’t seem to forget that. I hate that my dad gets caught in the middle. I’ve often thought of finding another sitter for Chloe, but Dad loves her and Chloe adores her grandpa.”

“How often do you go out?”

“Maybe once a month.”

“That shouldn’t be too much to ask.”

“I wish life wasn’t so complicated and tense. I wish we could live together as a happy, loving family. But the teenage jealous bitch in me destroyed that.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic. Your problem with your stepmom is minor compared to what I see on a daily basis. Parents killing their children. Children murdering their parents in their sleep. For your dad, beg for your stepmom’s forgiveness. Beg until she caves and your problem is solved. Someone has to bend and since you started the battle, you have to. For your own sanity, make it work.” He stretched out. “Now I’m going to sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a long, hot day.”

He closed his eyes, but she didn’t move. In the few hours he’d known her she’d continued to surprise him. He hoped she wasn’t going to surprise him now.

* * *

ABBY LISTENED TO the chirps of crickets mingling with the hoots of the owl. The sounds of the night surrounded her and gave her courage. She’d wanted to do this earlier, but lost her nerve. There was something about the darkness that freed her inhibitions.

She was touched by his story and his determination to build a life with his daughter. He was different than any man she’d ever met. And she was attracted to him. Even after all they’d been through, she was very aware of him as a man.

“Ethan.”

“Go to sleep, Abby.”

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

“No.”

“It’s personal for me, not you.”

“The answer is still no.”

“I’ll go to sleep if you answer.”

He groaned. “What is it?”

“Um...” Her courage faltered for a second. “Um...when we kissed, was my response cold?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“It’s a stupid question, and I’m not answering.”

She chewed on her lip trying to find the right words. “When I found out Doug was cheating and our marriage blew up, he blamed me. He said I was cold, unresponsive in bed and it was like making love to a mannequin.”

“You didn’t fall for that, did you?”

“Well...”

“He’s trying to make you feel guilty for his misdeeds.”

“I realized that, but there was a small part of me that felt it was true.”