Read Online A Man to Hold on to (A Tallgrass Novel) by Marilyn Pappano - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Marilyn Pappano
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smart mouth. They have to learn that behavior has consequences.
She could have been tougher on them. Of course she knew that. But, as the chaplain, the psychologists, and the therapists had repeatedly reminded her, they were grieving children. She was the adult. They’d advised cutting the kids some slack, and she had done it. She’d let them get away with things Paul hadn’t tolerated. They’d pushed the limits of her control, and she had never raised her voice, much less a hand, to them in anger.
Abby couldn’t make the same claim. Therese imagined she could still feel the tenderness in her cheek from the slap Abby had once delivered in a fit of anger. The breaking point in their so-called relationship.
Which begged the question: if the relationship was broken, why hadn’t she called Catherine yet?
* * *
After leaving the Matheson house, Keegan turned onto Main Street, found a parking spot at the back of the Sonic drive-in, and ordered before dialing his mother’s number. Ercella answered on the second ring, not bothering with a greeting. “Did you talk to him?”
He removed his sunglasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “No. He’s dead.”
“He’s— Oh, Lord, bless his heart. And his family’s.” She murmured more, a prayer for Matheson’s soul, no doubt. A month ago she’d been angry that he refused to acknowledge his daughter. Every few days since, she’d asked how in the world any man worthy of the name father could not want to be with a precious little girl—sometimes as much a dig at Keegan, he thought, as Matheson. Now she was praying for the man.
Honesty forced Keegan to admit that she’d probably been praying for Matheson from the first time she’d heard of him. She believed God answered prayers.
“Did you meet his wife?”
“Yes.”
“Poor thing. Finding a stranger on her doorstep asking for her dead husband.”
Poor thing. Not the first thought Therese Matheson brought to his mind. Pretty. Contained. Grieving, but going on with life. Staying strong. Raising his children from a previous relationship. Had she wanted children of her own? Matheson’s children?
With a bratty teenager and a son who looked a few years younger, did she miss the cute cuddly days of toddlers?
Don’t even think it. If Therese didn’t know about her husband’s infidelity or his illegitimate daughter’s existence, damned if he would be the one to tell her. He wasn’t about to tarnish her hero’s memory for her.
His mother echoed his thoughts. “Does she know about Mariah?”
“Hard to say.”
“And you can’t just come out and ask. If she doesn’t, it would probably break her heart. So what now? You gonna spend the night before you come home?”
The car hop, a young redhead so pregnant she looked as if she might pop right there, tapped on his window, and he rolled it down. “Hold on, Mom.”
“Cheeseburger, tots, large cherry limeade,” the girl said cheerfully, trading him the bag for a ten-dollar bill. She was probably an Army wife working to make ends meet. Defending your country didn’t pay as well as it could, especially for families.
“Keep the change,” he said before picking up his phone again.
“Well?” Ercella prompted.
Going home. There was no reason not to. No reason to even bother spending the night. He wasn’t tired. He could be in Leesville in time to sleep in his own bed.
He didn’t have to be back at work for a couple more weeks.
He hadn’t taken time off in a while.
He could probably find some old friends at Fort Murphy, or at Fort Riley a few hours north, Fort Sill a few hours southwest, or definitely at Fort Carson a long day’s drive west. He could even hang around Tallgrass and see what this part of Oklahoma had to offer.
“Well?”
“I don’t know, Mom. I think I’ll wait…Maybe Matheson’s got parents somewhere or a brother or sister.”
There wasn’t any kind of physical connection between them, so how could she make the
She could have been tougher on them. Of course she knew that. But, as the chaplain, the psychologists, and the therapists had repeatedly reminded her, they were grieving children. She was the adult. They’d advised cutting the kids some slack, and she had done it. She’d let them get away with things Paul hadn’t tolerated. They’d pushed the limits of her control, and she had never raised her voice, much less a hand, to them in anger.
Abby couldn’t make the same claim. Therese imagined she could still feel the tenderness in her cheek from the slap Abby had once delivered in a fit of anger. The breaking point in their so-called relationship.
Which begged the question: if the relationship was broken, why hadn’t she called Catherine yet?
* * *
After leaving the Matheson house, Keegan turned onto Main Street, found a parking spot at the back of the Sonic drive-in, and ordered before dialing his mother’s number. Ercella answered on the second ring, not bothering with a greeting. “Did you talk to him?”
He removed his sunglasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “No. He’s dead.”
“He’s— Oh, Lord, bless his heart. And his family’s.” She murmured more, a prayer for Matheson’s soul, no doubt. A month ago she’d been angry that he refused to acknowledge his daughter. Every few days since, she’d asked how in the world any man worthy of the name father could not want to be with a precious little girl—sometimes as much a dig at Keegan, he thought, as Matheson. Now she was praying for the man.
Honesty forced Keegan to admit that she’d probably been praying for Matheson from the first time she’d heard of him. She believed God answered prayers.
“Did you meet his wife?”
“Yes.”
“Poor thing. Finding a stranger on her doorstep asking for her dead husband.”
Poor thing. Not the first thought Therese Matheson brought to his mind. Pretty. Contained. Grieving, but going on with life. Staying strong. Raising his children from a previous relationship. Had she wanted children of her own? Matheson’s children?
With a bratty teenager and a son who looked a few years younger, did she miss the cute cuddly days of toddlers?
Don’t even think it. If Therese didn’t know about her husband’s infidelity or his illegitimate daughter’s existence, damned if he would be the one to tell her. He wasn’t about to tarnish her hero’s memory for her.
His mother echoed his thoughts. “Does she know about Mariah?”
“Hard to say.”
“And you can’t just come out and ask. If she doesn’t, it would probably break her heart. So what now? You gonna spend the night before you come home?”
The car hop, a young redhead so pregnant she looked as if she might pop right there, tapped on his window, and he rolled it down. “Hold on, Mom.”
“Cheeseburger, tots, large cherry limeade,” the girl said cheerfully, trading him the bag for a ten-dollar bill. She was probably an Army wife working to make ends meet. Defending your country didn’t pay as well as it could, especially for families.
“Keep the change,” he said before picking up his phone again.
“Well?” Ercella prompted.
Going home. There was no reason not to. No reason to even bother spending the night. He wasn’t tired. He could be in Leesville in time to sleep in his own bed.
He didn’t have to be back at work for a couple more weeks.
He hadn’t taken time off in a while.
He could probably find some old friends at Fort Murphy, or at Fort Riley a few hours north, Fort Sill a few hours southwest, or definitely at Fort Carson a long day’s drive west. He could even hang around Tallgrass and see what this part of Oklahoma had to offer.
“Well?”
“I don’t know, Mom. I think I’ll wait…Maybe Matheson’s got parents somewhere or a brother or sister.”
There wasn’t any kind of physical connection between them, so how could she make the
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