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to her."
    "Oh." Well, what the heck am I supposed to do
with that? "Alright, then what's the damn problem? Why not just
tell me that in the first place so we can go back to the way it was
before?"
    "I can't," he exhales, and the hurt on his voice
stabs into my chest. "I'm sorry, man. I've been trying so damn hard
to ignore it, but I just can't anymore."
    Now, I'm completely fuckin' confused. "Ignore
what?"
    He looks at me for a long moment, like he's
gonna say somethin' important, but I see fear in his eyes followed
by anger. Then, nothin'. His whole face goes blank. It chills me
right to the marrow.
    "Never mind." Turning back to Amber, he shuts me
out. "If you're done yellin' and scarin' the horses, I've got a
shitload of work to get done."
    I think I just got my answer.
He does have a problem with me and
the way I keep lookin' at his lips. And his eyes. And that fine,
tight ass.
    Fuck . I done screwed
this up. Guess maybe that's what Vickie was tryin' to make me see;
that I was attracted to him and had started makin' him
uncomfortable. Come to think on it, I wasn't just mad about
catchin' his hands on her. If I had ta' be honest with myself, I
guess I was a bit mad that he was with her and I wasn't
invited.
    That's about the most screwed up thought ta'
ever fill my head, and trust me, I've had plenty 'a fucked-up
thoughts. Backpedaling outta the barn 'fore I say something stupid
or start starin' at his ass again as he bends with the shovel, I do
what I always do when a situation don't exactly seem ta' be in my
favor.
    I tuck tale an' run.
     

Victoria
     
    Coming back to the Big Easy is always anything
but. Don't get me wrong - I love my family, but saying I'm the
black sheep is like saying Creole food is spicy. It simply is what
it is, and there's no changing it, no matter how hard my daddy may
try.
    My step-father is a good man. He loves his
family, he loves God and he loves me, even though I'm not his. The
way he saved my momma and me from my real daddy, who I haven't
called father or spoken to since I was fourteen and whose last name
I no longer use, leaves me no room to argue that I owe my
step-father a great deal.
    Despite me not being his , he's never treated me different than
his other children - the two girls he had with a previous wife who
passed, and the son he had with my momma. He just wishes I was a
little more like my two sisters, both of whom have settled down in
Louisiana with nice, church-goin' men and popped out a gran-baby
each. Tabitha even has a second baby on the way, but she always was
an over-achiever.
    Don't you want to find you a nice, faithful man?
Settle down into a nice life? Have a baby, or three?
    Those were his words to me five months ago when
I last visited for his birthday. I know he means well, but I wish
he'd see that I'm thirty, not looking for marriage, not looking for
kids, and I'm happy in Dallas.
    Mostly.
    I wish Saul and Austin would stop being so
stupid around each other, but I can't force it. If I do, it'll go
wrong. Austin's got to do this himself. He needs to own-up to who
he is, or he can't ever give his all to what Saul and I have. Saul
deserves that, and he also deserves what I'm trying to do for him.
For them both. For all three of us.
    I'm all Saul has ever known, but I've seen those
unspoken desires in his eyes when he looks at Austin. I've seen
what he won't admit to himself. I love Saul with all my heart, but
I don't want to become a regret. I don't want to be what's holding
him back. I don't want to be what my real father was to my momma
for all those years - an invisible noose around her neck, slowly
choking the love and joy right out of her soul.
    Threading my way past baggage claim, I step
outside with my single carry-on in hand to flag down a taxi. My
raised hand slowly lowers as a familiar smile catches my eye. Damn.
My half-brother Joseph looks more and more like his daddy every
year.
    "Well, afternoon Miss Harris," he smiles at me
with that big, toothy smile