Meg Lacey

Million Dollar Stud


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      Silver winced. “Surely he put it more romantically than that, Mama.”

      Aggie chuckled. “’Fraid not, honey girl.”

      “Oh, Lord. Where did he announce this?”

      “At the club the other night, when you were helping Aunt Violet out to the car.” Aggie sighed. “I wish that woman would switch to another drink and stay away from the mint juleps. They just don’t agree with her.”

      Giving her mother a dry look, Silver commented, “She says the mint settles her tummy.”

      “Well, mint is good for that,” her mother agreed, eyes twinkling. “It’s the alcohol that upsets it.”

      Silver indicated the stable. “Remember that horse we had who raided the herb bed and ate all the mint one year?”

      “Sweet and Spicy, wasn’t it? Oh, your daddy was furious because we couldn’t have fresh mint juleps for your brother’s wedding reception.”

      Silver stared across the yard, thinking about the gelding they’d sold many years before. Her pleasant nostalgic feeling passed when she saw Darcy emerging from the stables. Her stomach clenched. She could use a bit of mint, or something stronger, right about now, she thought, as she watched him stride across the gravel drive. The man had a way of moving that was almost poetic. Silver waved her hand, vaguely indicating his direction as she glanced at her mother. “I, uh, invited him to dinner tonight like you said.”

      “What?” Her mother leaned forward a bit, peering toward the stables. “Oh, Mr. Darcy, you mean?”

      “Darcy. He wants to be called Darcy.” Silver could feel the heat flood her face as her mother sent her a curious glance. “That’s what he told me.”

      “Darcy’s a nice name.”

      Silver shrugged, pretending a nonchalance that she was sure her mother would poke holes through in a minute. “It’s okay, I suppose.” She didn’t dare look up, concentrating instead on the beans, as if her life depended on breaking each one cleanly.

      “My, my, my…”

      Her mother’s comment recaptured her attention.

      “That young man sure has a behind to die for.”

      Shocked, Silver whipped her head around to stare at the older woman. “Mama. You’re too old to be looking at his behind.”

      “Now look here, Miss Saucy Mouth. I may be a bit older, but I’m not dead, and I believe in saying what’s on my mind.”

      “Since when? You always come at a subject round about, so you can take people by surprise.”

      “Well, that’s true, but I’m thinking of changing my approach. I’ve decided that your father has been getting his own way for too many years. He’s becoming a bit difficult lately.”

      “You won’t get an argument from me, Mama.” Silver glanced over, but her mother still had her attention focused on Darcy, who was now climbing into his pickup truck.

      “I didn’t get to meet this Darcy before Harden hired him. But now that I look at him, I can say your father does have an eye for talent. I wonder if he’s as good in the ‘saddle’ as he looks?”

      “Mama, for God’s sake, what’s gotten into you?” Just thinking about her mother referring to Darcy and mentioning sex made Silver squeamish. Next thing she knew, she’d start thinking about her parents in bed together, which might give her nightmares for the rest of her life.

      Her mother wagged her finger vigorously. “Don’t pretend to be prudish, Silver. If you can’t look at that young man and see a work of art, then I’m very worried about you.”

      “Well, of course I can—”

      “Besides, we live on a farm, honey lamb. No one understands sex better than someone who lives on a farm.”

      Silver arched her brows. “Our own little sex education clinic, you mean?”

      “Absolutely. You not only learn about the passion to recreate, but you learn the value of good breeding, too.”

      “Oh please.” Silver tried to change the subject. “This isn’t your subtle way of yammering at me about marrying John Tom Thomas after all, is it? Because this conversation is along the same lines as Daddy used a few days ago.” She cleared her throat. “The breeding part, I mean.”

      “Of course not. I do not yammer,” her mother huffed. “But now that I think about it, I don’t really understand what you’ve got against the man. He’s certainly got the right stuff. And if I remember clearly, you had a crush on him all the way through high school.”

      “That was high school. Right now he just seems so…so tame.” An image of Darcy flashed into her mind.

      “Tame?”

      “Proper. Broke to saddle, to use John Tom’s own riding metaphors.”

      Fixing a penetrating gaze on her, Aggie smiled. “You want a wild stallion, do you? Like that black monster you’re trying to train right now?”

      Silver flushed. “I don’t know what I want. I’m all mixed up.” But she did know what she wanted—a man who could take her breath away, a man with an element of danger instead of the ingredients of soft white bread. A man she hadn’t known since she was in braces.

      “Hmm.” Her mother gave her a wise look and a hug. “Don’t fret, honey. I’m sure something will happen to help you figure it out. It always does. And when it does, just go with what feels right.”

      Silver leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder for a moment. “Maybe I’m being silly, Mama.”

      “Maybe.”

      “I mean, John Tom is handsome, friendly, has good manners….”

      “That’s true. But on the other hand, Silver, that description could fit any number of males, including our dog.”

      Silver chuckled at her mother’s dry expression, but said nothing for a moment. She didn’t want to marry John Tom. She didn’t want to marry anyone. Not yet. The man who could make her change her mind was somewhere out there, she supposed. Perhaps even closer than you think, a small voice whispered. But marriage wasn’t her focus at the moment. Braybourne Farm was.

      “Your daddy and I just want to see you happy, Silver. We’re not getting any younger, you know. But that doesn’t mean we want you to rush into something that wouldn’t be right for you.”

      “I know, Mama.” She turned to face her mother. “I can’t promise I’ll choose the right person—when I finally choose, that is—but I’ll try not to disappoint either of you.”

      Her mother stroked her cheek. “Honey, you’re missing the point. Try not to disappoint yourself.” Aggie patted Silver’s hand, then stood up and took the saucepan from her. “I need to see to the chicken,” she said, headed toward the door. “You did tell your Darcy that supper’s at seven?”

      “He’s not my Darcy, Mama.”

      Her mother grinned. “Just a figure of speech, honey lamb. But it sure is something to dream about, isn’t it?” She hesitated for a moment before opening the screen door. “You remember what I said now.”

      Try not to disappoint myself.

      Silver looked toward the stables. Easier said than done. Her life had changed since she’d left the house earlier that day. She bit her lip. She couldn’t decide if it was changing for the better or the worse.

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