“My boys, now, they’re good men, but land’s sake, I pity the women they end up with.” She shook her head. “I swear the twins were enough to nearly send me over the edge when they were in high school. But that’s neither here nor now.”

“Stay away from Lafferty, Blissie,” John ordered as the screen door creaked open and he walked into the kitchen in his stocking feet. Pausing at the counter, he poured himself a cup of coffee.

“I’m not involved with Mason,” she replied.

“I’m not blind, y’ know. I see how you look at him.”

“Give me a break,” Bliss said, though she felt a blush steal up the back of her neck. Was it possible that she was so transparent?

“I shouldn’t have to remind you that it was his fault you nearly—”

“No, Dad, you’re wrong,” she said vehemently. “Mason saved my life. I think we’ve had this conversation before.” Bliss stood and tossed the dregs of her barely touched coffee down the drain. Though she was furious with Mason for sneaking around behind her father’s back to buy his ranch, she wasn’t going to let John accuse him falsely. She slid her empty cup into the dishwasher. “Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

“Don’t give me all that feminist mumbo jumbo. Women need men to take care of them. Good men,” John said, then, the minute the words were uttered, he looked as if he wished he could swallow them back again.

Bliss blanched. She thought of her mother and the years of betrayal she’d borne; of Brynnie, in love with one man while marrying others; of herself, never quite over a silly schoolgirl crush on Mason Lafferty. “I . . . I don’t believe that,” Bliss said.

“Neither do I.” Brynnie’s eyes had filled with tears and her chin wobbled. “John—”

“Ah, blast it all, anyway.” He rubbed a hand over his head, making his silvering hair stand on end. “What I meant was, Bliss, you could do better.”

Just like your mother could have. The unspoken words hung in the air like forgotten cobwebs, visible one minute, hidden the next in the shifting light of mixed emotions.

“Well, uh . . .” Brynnie cleared her throat and dug into her purse for her cigarettes. “I heard you met Tiffany the other day.”

“Tiffany?” Bliss repeated, still stung by her father’s statement.

“Yes. When you visited Mason.”

“You saw Mason and Tiffany?” John’s mouth pulled downward.

“I don’t think—” Bliss cut herself short as she remembered visiting Mason at his apartment. “Does Tiffany own an old Victorian in the middle of town?”

“Didn’t you know?” Brynnie found her pack of cigarettes and shook out a filter tip.

“No, I . . .” So that explained the other woman’s cool, stunned reaction to her.