Getting Married Again. Melinda Curtis

was her bridge partner. If she began a relationship with him and it failed, she’d have to look across the table and see his disappointment on a weekly basis. Men were always dissatisfied when it came to sex. They didn’t get it enough. They didn’t get it with someone young enough. They didn’t get it wild enough. And Mary didn’t even want to think about the extra pounds and wrinkles she’d accumulated since the last time she’d been with a man. Sirus was bound to be disappointed with her. She’d never be able to play bridge again.

      The television segment finished and Sirus’s eyes drifted down to Mary’s hands and then back up to her face. “You must be happy that Jackson’s home.”

      The temperature in the room rocketed up five degrees. “Words cannot describe how I’m feeling right now.” Guilt. Disappointment. Lust.

      Lust? Mary had to be imagining Sirus’s interest, even if she wasn’t imagining her own.

      In the kitchen, the blender ground to a halt.

      “Why don’t you shuffle?” Sirus set the cards in the middle of the table. “Your hands move with such grace, it’s a pleasure to watch.”

      Mary could picture her hands moving, all right. Her cheeks flushed with heat. She let her eyes follow the pearly snaps on Sirus’s worn western shirt down to the edge of the table, wondering about Sirus’s body. Long legs, long arms, long fingers…

      She was depraved!

      Mary’s eyes snapped up to Sirus’s. He chuckled, and it sent another tingle of awareness through her. Mary coughed, trying to break this spell he had over her.

      “Here come the refreshments,” Marguerite said as she brought in a tray full of the icy pink drinks.

      “What’s so funny?” Birdie asked, carrying a plate of cocktail wieners and cheese cubes, each speared with a toothpick.

      “Jackson came home,” Sirus said.

      “Grew a decent beard in Russia,” Smiley nearly shouted, not turning from the television.

      “Smiley, turn that down. You’re not deaf,” Birdie instructed, holding her small frame as tight and precise as a bird.

      Smiley did as he was told. Most everyone in Silver Bend did what Birdie wanted. She’d been married to the town mayor for years and then taken the position herself after his death.

      “Never mind that. Did he see Lexie?” Marguerite sat down next to Mary and leaned her buxom qualities over the table.

      “What did he say about the baby?” Birdie probed.

      Mary blinked, then shook her head and made a weak attempt at a smile. “I don’t know.” Although Lexie didn’t talk about it much, she had confirmed when asked that the baby was Jackson’s. That knowledge had only made folks in Silver Bend more interested in Jackson’s reaction.

      Marguerite settled back in her chair. “He’ll do the right thing.”

      “Should come in for a shave,” Smiley added.

      “She’ll take him back, of course.” Marguerite took the cards from the middle of the table and began to shuffle. The many rings she wore sparkled in the lamplight.

      Mary looked away, not wanting to know if Sirus was fascinated with Marguerite’s hands, too. She’d never noticed his interest in her before. What if she’d never noticed his interest in Marguerite, either?

      “It’s none of our business, anyway,” Sirus said.

      “Hogswaddle. We care about them. Besides, they were meant for each other. I’ll tell Jackson tomorrow that he should send flowers.” Birdie’s words rang with authority.

      “Flowers. That’s so sweet,” Marguerite crooned. “Maybe I’ll stop by later in the week to see how they’re doing.”

      “Let’s just mind our own affairs and play cards.” Sirus didn’t sound happy.

      It was all Mary could do not to look at Sirus. He was right, of course. But that wasn’t the way it was in the tight-knit, small community of Silver Bend. If Mary wanted to explore these unsettling feelings Sirus had aroused in her, she’d receive just as much advice and meddling as Lexie and Jackson were about to get.

      She was too old for this.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      “YOU COULD HAVE CALLED to warn me he was coming home,” Lexie gently chided Mary the next afternoon as she sat in a booth and rolled silverware in paper napkins. The baby she carried was oddly still.

      Lexie and Heidi came by the Painted Pony on Monday mornings to help Mary put the place back in order after a hectic few days of weekend traffic. Mary’s business was steady, but she, like everyone else in Silver Bend, ran lean in terms of crew. Although Lexie used to be a cook and waitress for Mary, the discovery of her pregnancy and the complications that made it high risk had forced Lexie to stop working altogether, swallow her pride and apply for assistance.

      “Heidi, don’t do that.” Mary turned to Heidi, who had stacked glasses in a pyramid at the other end of Lexie’s table without Lexie even noticing.

      “I know what I’m doing.” Heidi grinned. “Just a few more and I’ll break my record.”

      “If any glasses break, I’d like them to be broken by paying customers,” Mary chastised, but some of the sting had vanished from her tone.

      Heidi’s smile was nearly as powerful as her father’s.

      “Heidi, just because you started wearing a bra doesn’t mean you can bend the rules.” Lexie tried to tease Heidi into doing what her grandmother had asked.

      “Mo-om.” Heidi rolled her eyes. “Have I ever broken a glass?”

      “Yes!” Mary and Lexie chimed in.

      “That was a long time ago.” Heidi delicately placed another glass on her pyramid.

      “Two months,” Lexie pointed out.

      “Last June,” Mary clarified. “Go put those in the dishwasher with the other dishes you’re supposed to be washing.”

      “And if you break any, you’ll be grounded until you’re old enough to wear a girdle,” Lexie added.