Her younger son interrupted the food discussion. “Mother,” he said. “Talk to this woman. Make her believe that I love her and will never let a repeat of last night happen.”

“Lordy,” Alma sighed, her warm brown eyes looking misty. “I love you both. Mary Beth, you’re a dear girl. My baby here isn’t a bad boy, just a mite misguided. I was so sure what he needed was a strong woman.”

If anyone was counting, Mary Beth thought, he now had two strong women in his life. Her and Luellen. Make that three, with his doting mother.

“You are so right.” He patted Alma’s shoulder. “Mary Beth is perfect for me.”

“Are you sure?” his mother asked anxiously. “And are you the kind of man she needs?”

Bobby Joe’s expression turned sour. “Just whose side are you on, anyway?”

Howard Caine came through the door. “Alma and I are on the side of our children’s happiness.” He paused and fixed a stern look on Bobby Joe. “You’ve got to know how disappointed I am in your callous behavior, son.”

Mary Beth knew her father was being somewhat tactful for her sake and Alma’s. And he didn’t know everything that had happened and he might never know. But if he had his druthers, he’d probably knock some sense into Bobby Joe the old-fashioned way.

“I promise it’ll never happen again, sir.”

“You’re damn right it won’t,” Howard guaranteed the young man. “Your brother and I aim to see to that.”

“I don’t see how this is any of Parr’s business,” Bobby Joe fretted.

Mary Beth changed the subject. “So why’d you come in, Daddy? There must be a commercial on.” Her intention was to keep Parr out of it any way she could. The circumstances were complicated enough, what with him visiting from Memphis and no return date mentioned. She hadn’t seen any packed suitcases by the door when she’d let herself in.

No one in this room needed to know what had transpired between her and Parr—at least, not until she knew exactly how things stood with the two of them. Parr knew plenty: that she had been his brother’s girl, that she hadn’t accepted the ring back, and that Bobby Joe still wanted to marry her.

The blare from the next room told her that a new type of dish detergent was the key to a woman’s happiness. Wouldn’t it be nice if it were that easy, Mary Beth thought wryly.

“You guessed it, Mary Beth. Can’t stand those loud ads.” Her father grinned. “I wanted a cup of coffee before dinner.”

Alma quickly filled a mug at the coffeemaker and handed it to Howard, a girlish smile brightening her slightly lined face. “Now then. All of you clear out of my kitchen so I can get dinner on the table soon.”