Page 12 of Sweet Obsession
She didn’t know why, but it really bothered her that he might think less of her because of what she had to do to help the family save the ranch. “It’s complicated. There are a lot of conditions. Finding an agreeable male is only half the problem. My mother also has to believe that I’ve fallen head over boot heels in love and can’t wait to marry my soul mate.”
“So your mother doesn’t know?”
“Absolutely not. She’d never agree to a stunt like this. Not even to save the ranch.”
Under his breath, she was pretty sure he’d muttered something likesmart woman.
“With Preston it was easy because Sarah Sue had been a neighbor and friend all of our lives. Carson had a son in college so that one was a no-brainer. Garrett was a little weird because he met Jackie in a bar, but apparently Mom is a romantic who believes in love at first sight. And of course, like Preston and Sarah, Rachel and Jim had been the brunt of town gossip in their youth which made it easy to believe they’d come to their senses.”
“Is that what it’s called nowadays? Coming to your senses?” Blake shook his head. “Sorry, forget I said that. You’re right. You’re all right. This ranch is worth saving, no matter the cost.”
“Thank you.” She didn’t know why, but it mattered to her that he understood and didn’t judge.
His phone dinged, and Blake rolled his eyes.
“Something wrong?”
Blake shook his head. “Not really. Apparently, my manager doesn’t believe in sleeping either.”
“Oh.” She watched him closely as he glanced at his phone, and grinding his teeth, turned the thing off. Apparently, he had more problems to deal with than just a forgetful grandmother. Wasn’t life just peachy all around?
Chapter Seven
Blake surveyed the long table Alice Sweet had set up on the back porch. Dressed in gingham and good intentions, the table looked more than inviting. The entire setting soothed like a balm to the soul, he only hoped Mrs. Sweet’s plan of inviting his grandmother and Doc Conroy to lunch at the same time worked. Abreast of the situation, the town doctor had easily agreed to a little subterfuge over lunch. There really wasn’t any other way Blake could think of to get his stubborn grandmother to see a doctor.
A pitcher of sweet tea, the kind strong enough to put hair on a mule and only a good Texan could appreciate, rested center stage along with a fresh batch of Miss Alice’s cornbread muffins. Jillian had phoned him twenty minutes ago that she’d picked up his grandmother and should be here shortly.
Chuckling, Doc Conroy came from the kitchen carrying a platter of fried chicken. A few steps behind, Miss Alice cradled a massive bowl of potato salad, while sharing the tail end of a story about Mr. Sweet, a new foal, an over-protective mare, and the hole in his beloved lucky Stetson.
The sound of car doors slamming in the distance alerted Blake to the arrival of his best friend’s little sister and his grandmother. The show was about to begin.
An hour later, their bellies full and their hearts merry with story after story of Blake’s childhood and the Sweets adventures, Doc continued to keep a close eye on Sara Kirby.
“Sara,” Doc smiled at the older woman, “do you remember what Abigail Fine said was the secret ingredient in her apple pie?”
“I do,” his grandmother beamed, “and if I shared, it wouldn’t be a secret anymore.”
That made the doctor grin. “You always did have a memory like an elephant. I bet, if I gave you three words to remember, you’d have no trouble recalling them later on.”
“Of course not.”
“Okay. Let’s see if everyone is as good as you.” He turned to Alice. “Football, daisy, shoe. Think about those words, remember them, and repeat when I ask you.”
Alice sweet softly mouthed the three words and nodded.
Doc did the same with everyone at the table, giving Sara Kirby the words house, bird, and puppet. The conversation circled around apple pie recipes when Doc looked at Blake’s grandmother. “What were your three words, Sara?”
Grinning like the Cheshire cat, Sara proudly straightened her shoulders and easily repeated, “House, bird, and…” her smile slipped and her brows buckled. “It’s on the tip of my tongue.”
“No worries.” Doc’s smile remained in place. “Was it a child’s toy?”
“Oh, yes,” Sara brightened, “a marionette.”
Everyone glanced at each other. Blake had no idea if using a synonym for puppet counted or not.
“Alice,” Doc looked to his hostess, “I want to write this potato salad recipe down. May I have a sheet of paper?”
“Of course.” In on the disguised tests, Alice Sweet jumped up and conveniently found a sheet of paper and a pen waiting at the counter just inside the door.
