But Mary Beth admired Alma, who had struggled to raise two sons without a husband, and had taken in a runaway niece into the bargain, at a time when she could barely afford to feed her own children. Howard Caine thought the world of her, and his esteem had gradually increased until Mary Beth was sure her father was considering a serious relationship.

“How much time?”

Bobby Joe’s question forced her to look at him.

“I can’t say,” she replied. “Not right now, anyway. Don’t push me. You’ve hurt me terribly. How do I know if I can ever trust you again?”

“Baby, you have my word.”

“Don’t make vows you can’t keep, Bobby Joe. You’ve already broken a solemn promise.”

Mary Beth toyed with her engagement ring, twisting it this way and that. Granted, forgiveness was a virtue, but not to the point of making a fool of yourself in the process.

Bobby Joe had the sense to shut up while she thought for a bit. He even looked a little shamefaced. As well he might. She was still angry.

She wondered what kind of ring Parr would give the woman he loved. She knew from Alma that he had never been married or even engaged. And she knew from Bobby Joe that his big brother was quite a ladies’ man, moving quickly from one to another, generous to a fault but never promising anything in particular before moving on to the next conquest.

“I made a mistake.” Bobby Joe was beginning to repeat himself. “Don’t make us both pay for it by giving up our chance for happiness together.”

There was some truth to that, enough to make her relent.

“We’ll see.” She slipped the diamond ring from her finger and set it on the table. “If I can convince myself that you’re right about that, I’ll put this back on. Understand?”

“Excuse me,” Alma called out loudly as she buzzed into the kitchen. “I hate to disturb you children, but I’ve got to check on that roast beef in the oven.”

“It’s all right,” Mary Beth told her. “We’re done talking for now. Where’s Daddy?”

“Howard’s glued to the wide-screen in the den. There’s a ball game on. The Atlanta Braves,” Alma laughed.

“Uh-oh.” Mary Beth smiled, surprised by how relieved she felt, free of Bobby Joe’s ring. “We’ll never get him to the table for dinner.”

In their part of the South, that was served in the afternoon. The meal was more than lunch and not as formal as supper. Alma still cooked some things but she was no stranger to good prepared food to save work.

“Oh dear. And I got his favorite peach cobbler for dessert,” Alma told her.