Kissin' Tell (Rough Riders #13)(84)

What was taking their food so long?


Georgia looked up to see Casper staring at her. “Hotchkiss, huh? You Robert’s kid?”


“Yes.”


“Huh. What church do you go to?”


“Dad, that’s not—”


“It’s okay, Tell.” She smiled at Casper. “When I lived here before, we were Evangelical Free.”


“Georgia recently moved back to Sundance from Dallas,” Tell offered.


“The girl can speak for herself, can’t she?” Casper retorted. “It’s so like you, boy, always trying to smooth things over. We’re just talkin’. Ain’t like I’m gonna tell her embarrassing secrets about you.”


“Dad. Stop.”


Casper stretched his arm across the back of the booth. “Didja talk to your mother about her?”


“Her name is Georgia. And I don’t see how it’s any of your business what Mom and I talk about.”


Casper grinned meanly at Tell and addressed Georgia. “Better watch this one. He ain’t interested in settling down. Especially if he ain’t mentioned you to his mama yet.”


Tell drained his drink.


Georgia hadn’t been raised to backtalk her elders. So as much as she wanted to brag that the kinky, anything-goes sex was keeping her interest, not the chance to snag a McKay, she wouldn’t dare. But it broke her heart to watch Tell being miserable.


“His mother and I got divorced,” Casper said out of the blue.


“My folks got divorced too, after my brother, RJ, died in a car accident.”


“I remember that. But it wasn’t no accident. He was drivin’ drunk, wasn’t he?”


“Yes.” And thank you for pointing that out.


“I done my share of that. Ain’t proud to say it even when I know now I had angels watching over me. Praise the Lord he’s on my side, helpin’ me stay outta the bottle. You’re lucky he didn’t take no one else with him. Not like what happened with my oldest son, Luke. Some jackass didn’t know how to drive in the fog and my boy paid the price.”


Finally their food arrived and Georgia hoped Casper would take a hike. But she feared he might be inclined to stay and say grace.


Tell started shoveling in the side of mixed veggies.


Casper said, “You know it wouldn’t kill ya to say thanks to the Lord for all you’ve got before you eat like you’ve never seen food.”



And Tell kept chewing.


“You are stubborn.” Then Casper addressed her. “You wanna hear stubborn? When Tell was about fourteen, we had this old, worthless fishing boat. He thought he could get it runnin’, despite the fact he’s hopeless when it comes to mechanical stuff. I told him he was wastin’ his time. He spent every wakin’ hour workin’ on it when he wasn’t doin’ stuff around the ranch. Somehow he convinced Luke to help him haul it to the lake.” Casper grunted. “That sucker sank like a rock, with the bow sticking straight up. So when we’re in the midst of a drought, that end sticks out ’cause the water table is so low. Since Tell fastened some kind of ridiculous pirate flag on it, everyone knows it’s his. Everyone sees his mistake. Stubborn kid shoulda listened to me.”


Tell looked up, his eyes dark with anger. “I’d appreciate you leavin’ now, Dad. I am on a date. You’re the third wheel that nobody wants.”


Georgia’s face warmed from Tell’s harsh words.


But it didn’t faze Casper. He slid out of the booth. “Fine, I can take a hint. Be seein’ you.” And he was gone.


She focused on her pasta. When she glanced over at Tell, he’d stirred his food but hadn’t eaten much. Poor baby. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, but he’d see it as pity, not comfort.


He must’ve sensed her staring. But he didn’t lift his head. “Sorry about that.”


“Like you had any control over where he showed up for supper.”


“Yeah. Well. Can we just forget it?”


Tell only ate half his steak and the waitress boxed up the remainder. Georgia sensed his impatience for her to finish so they could get out of the restaurant.


In the truck, he didn’t pat the seat for her to scoot over. He didn’t snatch her hand. Tell just hunched over the steering wheel and drove in silence.


Halfway home, she peered around the invisible elephant in the truck cab. “Is it always like that with your father?”


“No. Sometimes it’s worse.”


“I just want to say—”


“Don’t say anything. Can’t we just drop it?”


“No. You’re upset and hurting and I want to help you.” Georgia picked up his hand and kissed his palm. “Please. You’ve been there for me and you have no idea how much I appreciated that. You need to talk about this, Tell. And I’m right here. Ready to listen. Without judgment.”


A few long miles passed. Then he said, “He got worse after Luke died, but that nasty attitude is just who he is, whether he’s drinking or sober with the light of God shining down on him. No one in our family can stand to be around him. You can see why.