want and I'll take care of all the details."
"No, Maggie." Grace shot her husband a fulminating look. "I want to help. I want to be part of planning my party."
A muscle worked in Ben's jaw. He wasn't ready to give in yet. He stared at Maggie. "My concern is that she'll overtire herself and not have resources available when she needs her strength."
"I'm not a child to be ordered about by an overprotective parent. I can judge my own strength or lack thereof."
He braced his hands on his hips and faced her. "You have gotten to be so stubborn."
The pain and frustration in his voice pierced her to the marrow. Poor Ben. This situation was so hard for him. Hadn't she often mused that being a patient's loved one was sometimes more difficult than being ill oneself?
She took a step toward him, placed her hand on his arm. "Isn't being stubborn a good thing, honey? Isn't stubbornness a sign of strength?"
His glare softened, then his mouth twisted in a rueful half-smile. "In that case, you should be able to tote the entire Dallas Cowboys football team around on your back."
Maggie grinned at his joke, then turned on the charm. "Ben, you should know something about me. If Grace is with me, she won't overdo. I can promise that. I'm delicate. I may be Southern, but I'm no steel magnolia. Except for when I'm shopping for shoes, and then I can go for hours. Still, I'm sitting down most of the time."
He let out a long, harsh sigh. "All right. I'll allow it. But Maggie, I'm taking you at your word. You keep an eye on her and don't let her wear herself out."
Grace traded looks with Maggie in silent communication. See? See what I meant the other day? Constant coddling. He's driving me crazy. Then, just as Grace dropped her head back to let out a silent scream, Ben added, "I love her so much."
"No need to say more, Ben." The gaze Maggie settled on Grace brimmed with understanding. "No need to say more."
* * *
Holly was late. She absolutely hated being late. It was one of her pet peeves. Her reputation at school for being the Tardy Slip Teacher was honestly earned.
Her phone call to her dad had delayed her only a little, but then she couldn't find her keys. Once she gave up the hunt and dragged out her extra set, she'd been ten minutes late leaving home. Then traffic was a mess, and she'd had trouble finding a parking space. She'd ended up in the high-dollar garage on Commerce Street, and she'd been lucky to find a spot there. Seemed like half the population of Fort Worth had decided to attend the Arts Festival today.
She arrived at the Ashford a full quarter hour late. The apologies spilled from her mouth the moment she spied her two friends seated on a small sofa, a dessert tray on the coffee table in front of them.
"Oh, hush." Maggie dismissed Holly's tardiness with a wave. "No harm done. Except to you, because we began sampling the fare without you and you missed out on the chocolate torte."
"Chocolate torte? Have you noticed that anytime the three of us get together, chocolate eventually becomes part of the equation?"
Grace slid the desserts toward Holly. "You have a problem with that?"
Choosing a petit four, Holly popped it into her mouth and grinned. "Not one little bit."
The hotel manager showed them around. The reception room was lovely, decorated in gold and silver and white. It had an intimate feel that Holly liked. When she mentioned it, she saw Maggie pull a small notebook from her purse and make a notation. Holly shot her a curious look, and Maggie blinked her lashes with an innocence Holly immediately found suspect.
"I can't plan a party without my notebook. I'd get kicked out of the Junior League. I've learned to write down every little thing."
They had some trouble with Grace, who kept tugging on Maggie's sleeve and fretting about costs. Finally, Maggie asked the manager to excuse them, then she launched into a long-winded explanation of how and why she could negotiate a rock-bottom rate. Grace's sensibilities
"No, Maggie." Grace shot her husband a fulminating look. "I want to help. I want to be part of planning my party."
A muscle worked in Ben's jaw. He wasn't ready to give in yet. He stared at Maggie. "My concern is that she'll overtire herself and not have resources available when she needs her strength."
"I'm not a child to be ordered about by an overprotective parent. I can judge my own strength or lack thereof."
He braced his hands on his hips and faced her. "You have gotten to be so stubborn."
The pain and frustration in his voice pierced her to the marrow. Poor Ben. This situation was so hard for him. Hadn't she often mused that being a patient's loved one was sometimes more difficult than being ill oneself?
She took a step toward him, placed her hand on his arm. "Isn't being stubborn a good thing, honey? Isn't stubbornness a sign of strength?"
His glare softened, then his mouth twisted in a rueful half-smile. "In that case, you should be able to tote the entire Dallas Cowboys football team around on your back."
Maggie grinned at his joke, then turned on the charm. "Ben, you should know something about me. If Grace is with me, she won't overdo. I can promise that. I'm delicate. I may be Southern, but I'm no steel magnolia. Except for when I'm shopping for shoes, and then I can go for hours. Still, I'm sitting down most of the time."
He let out a long, harsh sigh. "All right. I'll allow it. But Maggie, I'm taking you at your word. You keep an eye on her and don't let her wear herself out."
Grace traded looks with Maggie in silent communication. See? See what I meant the other day? Constant coddling. He's driving me crazy. Then, just as Grace dropped her head back to let out a silent scream, Ben added, "I love her so much."
"No need to say more, Ben." The gaze Maggie settled on Grace brimmed with understanding. "No need to say more."
* * *
Holly was late. She absolutely hated being late. It was one of her pet peeves. Her reputation at school for being the Tardy Slip Teacher was honestly earned.
Her phone call to her dad had delayed her only a little, but then she couldn't find her keys. Once she gave up the hunt and dragged out her extra set, she'd been ten minutes late leaving home. Then traffic was a mess, and she'd had trouble finding a parking space. She'd ended up in the high-dollar garage on Commerce Street, and she'd been lucky to find a spot there. Seemed like half the population of Fort Worth had decided to attend the Arts Festival today.
She arrived at the Ashford a full quarter hour late. The apologies spilled from her mouth the moment she spied her two friends seated on a small sofa, a dessert tray on the coffee table in front of them.
"Oh, hush." Maggie dismissed Holly's tardiness with a wave. "No harm done. Except to you, because we began sampling the fare without you and you missed out on the chocolate torte."
"Chocolate torte? Have you noticed that anytime the three of us get together, chocolate eventually becomes part of the equation?"
Grace slid the desserts toward Holly. "You have a problem with that?"
Choosing a petit four, Holly popped it into her mouth and grinned. "Not one little bit."
The hotel manager showed them around. The reception room was lovely, decorated in gold and silver and white. It had an intimate feel that Holly liked. When she mentioned it, she saw Maggie pull a small notebook from her purse and make a notation. Holly shot her a curious look, and Maggie blinked her lashes with an innocence Holly immediately found suspect.
"I can't plan a party without my notebook. I'd get kicked out of the Junior League. I've learned to write down every little thing."
They had some trouble with Grace, who kept tugging on Maggie's sleeve and fretting about costs. Finally, Maggie asked the manager to excuse them, then she launched into a long-winded explanation of how and why she could negotiate a rock-bottom rate. Grace's sensibilities
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