7
“Go fish, Daddy,” Kadina said, with a chuckle, as she fell backwards on the floor.
Garcelle plucked a card from the deck and handed it to him so that he didn’t have to reach from his spot on the couch, where he was lounging. Their hands briefly touched, and the card drifted to the floor as they both pulled away as if they’d been shocked.
“Excuse me,” Garcelle said.
“No, I’m sorry,” Kade said.
Garcelle reached for the card and handed it to him. She looked up at Kadina and found the little girl looking at them, with a scrunched-up face.
“What’s wrong with y’all?” Kadina asked, her Southern accent sounding almost like a Texas twang.
Garcelle and Kade looked at each other and then looked away. “Nothing,” they quickly said in unison before glancing at each other again.
“Okay,” Kadina said simply, with a shrug, before she focused on the cards in her hand. “Garcelle, do you have a . . . three?”
Garcelle folded her legs where she sat on the floor. She shook her head. “Kadina, go fish, sweetheart, and then let me have those deuces.”
“Aw, man,” Kadina whined as she handed the card to Garcelle.
“Boy, I am so good at this game,” Garcelle teased them as she laid down her pair.
“You do learn card games fast,” Kade said dryly as he shifted his cards in his hand.
Garcelle winked at him as she playfully tossed her hair over her shoulder. “No odies al jugador; odia el juego.”
Kade smiled at her. “Could you talk crap to me in English, please?”
Kadina giggled. “It means, ‘Don’t hate the player; hate the game,’ Daddy.”
“Oh God, am I going to have both of you around here speaking Spanish?”
“Sí, Papi,” Garcelle and Kadina both said. They looked at each other and laughed before they gave each other a high five.
“Lord, help me,” Kade drawled as he watched them.
They continued to play, and although Garcelle had learned the child’s card game quickly, Kadina was the true master, and she beat them twice. As they dealt a new hand, Garcelle bit her thumbnail and glanced over at Kade as he lounged in old Dickies pants and a T-shirt, with a pair of ratty slippers that had seen better days.
At that moment she was aware of her attraction to Kade, but it wasn’t her focus. She was just enjoying being in his and Kadina’s company. They were friends. That was it. She felt so much better than she had last night around twelve, when she woke up in a sweat, with thoughts of stallions— and riding the two-legged variety atop the four-legged one.
Don’t even go there, Garcelle. No way. No how.
The doorbell rang, and Garcelle jumped to her feet, more than glad for the diversion from her thoughts. “I’ll get it,” she said over her shoulder as she left the den.
She smoothed her hands over her I’M TOO HOT FOR YOU T-shirt and sweatpants. The front door was open, but the glass screen door was locked, so Garcelle was able to see the unfamiliar woman standing there. “Otro cazador de hombre. La pena buena,” she muttered under her breath, with a suck of her teeth, thinking it was indeed another of the man chasers wanting to put their hooks in Kade.
Although, Garcelle had to admit that this one was trying another approach. Her hair was pulled into a professional topknot, the make-up on her face was minimal, and her jeans slacks and buttoned-up pinstripe shirt were a definite change from the hotties who rolled through in clothes tight enough to spark a fire from friction.
She noticed the woman’s eyes widen and then damn near close as she squinted at the sight of her.
Garcelle unlocked the door and put on a smile. “Hello. Can I help you?” she said, with plenty of pleasantness.
“Oh . . . you’re Spanish?” the woman said in a whisper, her soft voice filled with surprise. “You don’t look it.”
Garcelle’s spine stiffened, and she had to swallow her irritation, because this was not her house and this woman was not her guest. Ignoring the woman’s rudeness, she said, “Can I help you?”
“Well, I thought this home was still owned by Kade Strong, but I guess I’m wrong,” she said, looking up at Garcelle.
“This is Kade Strong’s house. Can I help you?”
“I’m Zorrie . . . Zorrie Kintrell. I’m a friend of the family.”
“Aunt Zorrie?” Kadina called from the den. Seconds later there were running footsteps. Kadina appeared at the door in no time and flung herself at the woman, wrapping her long, skinny arms around her waist.
Zorrie bent over a bit to hug her back. “Kadina? Oh, you’ve gotten so big. Step back, and let me see you, sweetheart.”
Garcelle smiled at the obvious pleasure on Kadina’s face. “Hello, Zorrie. I’m Kadina’s nanny, Garcelle,” she said, offering the woman her hand.
Zorrie took her offered hand warmly. “Nice to meet you. I’m Reema’s best friend.”
“Come in, of course,” said Garcelle. She stepped back and watched as Kadina pulled the woman into the den. Garcelle closed the door and moved into the kitchen to leave them alone with their guest.
She glanced at the clock. It was a little after two in the afternoon, and in the Spanish culture, it was time for la comida, or lunch. Since it was Kade’s first full day at home recuperating from his injuries, she decided to make the traditional heavy meal. As she listened to the laughter floating from the den, Garcelle focused on preparing a multicourse meal of vegetable soup, stuffed cod with fried potatoes and sautéed green beans on the side, and for dessert, a compota de peras, or pear compote.
Since their move to America, and especially since Maria Santos’s passing, the Santos family had gotten away from the tradition. It felt good to do something that put her in touch with her culture. It took a solid thirty minutes, but in the end, Garcelle knew she made a fabulous meal.
Garcelle wiped her hands on a dish towel as she made her way to the den. She paused in the doorway. Zorrie was sitting on the edge of couch, beside Kade’s legs, and Kadina was on the floor, on her knees, as they all looked at a photo album. Zorrie reached out and touched Kade’s arm as they laughed together at something Kadina said about a photo of her mother.
“Something smells delicious,” Zorrie said.
“I made a traditional Spanish lunch,” Garcelle said, walking into the room.
“Thanks, Garcelle. ’Cause I am starving,” Kade said as he looked up at her.
His eyes were the brightest and most alive she had ever seen them. Was it the photos or the presence of Zorrie?
“Aunt Zorrie, you have to stay for lunch. Garcelle is the best cook ever,” Kadina said as she rose to her feet.
“Well, don’t forget your mother could throw down in the kitchen, too,” Zorrie said as she rose.
“Kade, can you make it to the kitchen, or do you want me to bring you a tray?” Garcelle asked.
Kade swung his legs to the floor and eased his way to the end of the couch. “You tightened these bandages real good for me this morning, so I’m going to the table.”
Garcelle stepped forward to offer Kade some assistance, but Zorrie got to him before her. Her instant reaction was to feel slighted, but she decided that that was being childish.
“Bueno, Daddy,” Kadina said, with her eyes on him as he rose gingerly to his feet.
“Oh . . . your nanny is teaching you Spanish?” Zorrie asked as they made their way to the kitchen.
Garcelle thought she heard a hint of derision beneath Zorrie’s sugary sweet tone.
“Sí,” Kadina said, with a wink at Garcelle.
Garcelle tugged Kadina’s ponytail.
“Garcelle is good for Kadina. I’m lucky she was able to help me out this summer,” Kade said as he took a seat at the large island in the center of the brightly lit room.
“Yes, of course,” replied Zorrie.
Garcelle moved to the stove to begin serving the first course of soup. She had to swallow her uneasiness at serving Zorrie. It made her feel like the maid she wasn’t. When it was the three of them, everything was informal, like a favor between friends.
“And I can’t wait to spend some time with my godchild. Work has kept me from visiting South Carolina more often,” Zorrie said, with a warm smile at Kadina. “I think it’s been a year, and even then, I was just in town for a funeral, and I went right back that same weekend. We had fun that weekend, too. Remember we went to the museum in Charleston?”
Garcelle served herself a bowl of soup and sat at the island, beside Kadina. Her spine stiffened when Zorrie reacted to her presence at the table with obvious surprise and disapproval.
Garcelle just smiled around her spoonful of soup. She wished Kade would tell her she wasn’t allowed to eat with the family. She wished he would.
Kade reached for a piece of bread at the same time as Garcelle. They both pulled their hands back.
“So how long are you in town for, Zorrie?” Kade asked as he broke off a piece of bread.
Good question.
“Two, maybe three, weeks,” Zorrie said, with a long stare at Garcelle, which Garcelle met boldly.
Kadina jumped up and down in her seat excitedly. “Aunt Zorrie, you have to spend a couple of nights with me. Please.”
“I would love to, but it’s up to your daddy,” said Zorrie.
“Fine with me,” he said, digging into his soup with gusto.
Garcelle completely lost her appetite.
Bianca was staring out her office window at the ranch hands working the Travises’ new racehorse, Shogun. It was a slow day at the clinic, and she wished it were otherwise. She wanted nothing more than to have something on her mind besides her father and Mimi’s relationship.
What . . . the . . . hell?
She was grinning and bearing it all, but deep down, she wanted to flip out and ask them both if they were crazy. It was building up inside of her with every passing moment. She was sick of the questions flying in and out of her head at any odd moment of the day. And her main question was, When did their love affair begin?
Her office door opened, and Bianca turned away from the window to find her father and Mimi walking into her office, arm in arm. She rolled her eyes before she could catch herself.
“You busy, Bunny?” her father asked as he looked down at her.
Bianca cleared her throat and began to shuffle papers on her desk. “Actually, I’m swamped,” she lied, looking at them briefly, with a stiff smile, before she focused her full attention on the papers.
“Something wrong, sweetie?” Mimi asked as she stepped forward in a pink suit with enough fringes to offend a cowboy.
Bianca looked up at her briefly. “No, not at all. What are you two up to today?”
Mimi slid her petite frame on the corner of Bianca’s desk and crossed her legs. Her gold heels were covered with the dust of the farm. “I was telling Big Daddy—”
“Big . . . Daddy?” Bianca asked, with a hint of derision.
Mimi smiled like a cat before a bowl of cream. “He’s your daddy, sweetie, but he’s my, huh, what . . . Big Daddy. That’s right.”
Hank’s smile was big enough to show every tooth in his head.
“Anyway, I was telling Big Daddy that I want to experience a big old country barbeque with all the works,” said Mimi. “I want to try all those things Big Daddy has been telling me about. Venison, coon, catfish stew, and . . . and . . .”
“Frogmaw stew,” Hank offered.
Mimi clapped her bejeweled hands. “Yes, that’s it. Frogmaw stew that isn’t made with frogs, right? A lady has to draw the line somewhere.”
Bianca laughed at her friend. In that moment she realized that she’d been so busy pouting over their relationship that she hadn’t allowed herself to enjoy having Mimi around.
“You and Kahron be sure to come Saturday, and tell the rest of that big ole Strong bunch,” Hank said as he walked over to massage Mimi’s shoulder as he kissed her forehead.
Mimi wore enough make-up to make a man look like a woman, and Bianca was surprised her father’s lips weren’t covered with foundation.
“Me and a couple of the hands are headed to Charleston,” Hank added. “You two enjoy your day together.”
Bianca felt alarmed. She wasn’t ready to be alone with Mimi. All her feelings about their relationship might explode out of her like confetti.
“I told Big Daddy that I’d stay here with you. It’s not good to crowd a man,” Mimi said, patting her jet-black French roll in a bad Mae West imitation.
Bianca genuinely smiled up at her.
“I can help with those horses, honey,” said Mimi.
Bianca leaned back in her chair. “There aren’t any . . . ahem . . . male horses to take a peek at,” she teased.
Mimi hopped off the desk and wrapped her arms around Hank’s wide girth. “I have my own stallion to show me a big and hard—”
“Ick alert! Ick alert!” Bianca yelled, not caring how childish it was for her to cover her ears with her hands.
Hank picked Mimi up, bringing her face closer to his. They kissed long and firm, like they were in the room alone.
“Daughter in the room,” Bianca said, with emphasis.
Mimi flung her head back as she lifted one hand and used her thumb to wipe her crimson red lipstick from Hank’s thick lips. “I’m sorry, sweetie,” she said in the caricature voice of hers as she stared dreamily into Hank’s eyes. “When I’m around Big Daddy, he just makes me . . . come alive.”
They laughed while Bianca dropped her head into her hands. “Good grief,” she muttered.