Runaway Vampire (Argeneau, #23)(35)

Dave often claimed they had the best cook in Texas working for them, and Mary couldn’t argue the point. Every meal she’d ever had at the Round Up had been excellent, and this breakfast was no exception. She would have enjoyed it more, however, had the mood at the table been less tense. Where she usually enjoyed visiting with Dave and Carol, this time she was actually glad when one of the workers hurried to the table as they finished their meal and dragged Carol and Dave away to deal with an unhappy camper.

“I’m sorry, we’ll visit more later,” Carol said apologetically as they rushed away.

Mary murmured in agreement, but was kind of hoping that later never came. She knew if Carol got her alone she’d have more questions about Dante that she just had no idea how to answer. And Mary really didn’t want to get in the middle of the argument Carol and Dave were having about moving or not moving. Her advice to Carol would be to do whatever the hell she wanted. If she wanted to move back to Winnipeg to be close to her kids, then do it. Life was too damned short to constantly push your own desires down and always do what others wanted. On her deathbed, Mary’s mother had told her to follow her dreams, that on her own deathbed she wouldn’t lie there patting herself on the back for all the times she was so good and kindhearted and did what others wanted, she’d be regretting all the things she’d wanted to do and hadn’t.

Mary hadn’t always followed that advice, but the older she got, the more she recognized the sense behind the words. Her mother hadn’t been suggesting she act without considering others. She’d just been saying to be kind to herself as well as to others. Her own wants and needs should be at least as important as those of the others in her life. Because, frankly, if you didn’t care about yourself, no one would, and you’d spend your life living for others.

“Your husband was unfaithful,” Dante said bluntly once they’d left the restaurant and started the return walk to the RV.

Mary’s hand tightened on Bailey’s leash at that comment. He obviously had read Carol’s thoughts. Either that or he’d realized the significance of what Carol had stopped herself saying. “Oh, is this one of Joe’s chil—” Joe’s children was what she’d started to say. One of his biological children, not with her, but with one of the many women he’d had affairs with over a fifteen-year period during the first part of their marriage.

“I told you he wasn’t perfect,” she muttered with a shrug.

“Yes. But you neglected to tell me he was repeatedly unfaithful to you during your marriage,” he said grimly, sounding angry on her behalf. “That is a little less than imperfect.”

“It was during the early years of our marriage,” she said quietly. “But he made up for it during the last half of our marriage. He was the best husband a woman could ask for then.”

“He was not,” Dante assured her. “He simply got better at hiding his indiscretions.”

“What?” Mary asked sharply, her steps halting. Then she scowled at him. “You don’t know that.”

“I read both Carol and Dave,” he said quietly.

Her eyes widened with alarm. “He and Carol didn’t . . . ?”

“No. Carol, like you, is a faithful wife,” he assured her solemnly.

Mary let her breath out on a sigh. She and Carol had been good friends for a long, long time. The thought that she could have betrayed her like that would have been crushing. Which was ironic, she supposed. She should have been more distressed at Joe’s betrayal had they had an affair. Instead, it was Carol’s betrayal that would have hurt more. She supposed it was because she’d long ago given up any hope of being able to trust her husband in that regard. At least back then.

“Dave is how I know your husband continued his infidelities,” Dante continued, “He and your husband were made from the same mold. The pair often trolled the bars together, knew each other’s girlfriends, and covered for each other with “the wifey” as he put it in his thoughts.”

Mary sighed at this news and continued walking. She wasn’t terribly surprised by the information, but also wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do with it. Should she be furious and confront Dave? Why? What did it matter? Joe was dead.

“He continues to philander here in Texas,” Dante said grimly. “And Carol is aware of it. That is part of the reason she wants to move back to Winnipeg. Dave uses the campground as his own personal hunting grounds. He has affairs with many of the women who camp here, married or not. He also has had the occasional fling with workers.”

Mary’s mouth tightened and her heart went out to Carol, but again, she didn’t know what to do about it. If, as he said, Carol knew . . . well, she wouldn’t want to add to her humiliation and bring up the subject with her. They’d only discussed the subject of Joe’s infidelities once, years ago, after the car accident that had led to her not being able to have children. Mary had almost left Joe then, but . . .

“Carol believes you stayed with Joe because you could not have children,” Dante said quietly. “She believes you felt no other man would want a woman who couldn’t give him children.”

“Children are important to most men,” she said quietly. “But that wasn’t the only reason. He made a mistake, but no one is perfect.”

He was silent for a minute and then said uncertainly, “Are the pictures in the RV of your husband’s children with other women?”