Chapter Twelve: The Buckley Ball Part 2

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*Mary's POV*

"Tyler, for god sakes stop throwing mini quiches at your brother!" I scolded my youngest son, who only threw Marcus a glare and stalked off to another direction, shooting some winks at a few blushing young girls.

Marcus walked off to a different direction, a triumphant smirk on his little devilish face.

I sighed, a small worried smile forming on my own face. Jack came back with two glasses of champagne, a suggestive look in his eyes.

"How 'bout something to wet your whistle?" he passed me the champagne to which I gratefully took and gulped it all down in one go.

Jack was watching me, his eyebrows arched high.

"Somethin' happen? Sweetheart." He asked me, taking the flute glass cup out of my hands and setting it onto the table behind us.

"Just the boys, darling. I worry about them sometimes." I said, my throat tightening up as it always did when I worried about my precious babies.

"Sometimes always means always with you, Mary. Why don't you tell me what's really on yo' mind." Being married to this charmer for twenty six years has had its up and downs.

"I can't help but think I rushed Cam into marrying Lucinda, who only left him by the alter crushed. Jack, it feels like it's my fault, maybe if I wasn't too pushy, maybe if I was more patient. . . then maybe he wouldn't have been so unhappy for two and a half years.

Maybe he wouldn't have gone bed hopping with the town girls, or avoid seeing anything romantic. . .you don't see it Jack, no one does. But I do.

I can see the way his face pinches up when we look at each other, or when we kiss he immediately leaves the room looking so sickly pale and so. . .murderously sad and angry. . . Jack. . . I think I may have ruined our boy." I tried so hard not to cry, but alas a few tears escaped.

Jack immediately wiped them off with his hands gently, bringing me closer to his warm body that has been my anchor for so many years.

"Nothing is your fault, Mary. Nothing. It was Lucinda who ruined our boy, who left him standing there at the alter for his best friend. It wasn't you." Jack soothed, patting and rubbing my back in slow motions.

I breathed in deeply, willing myself not to break in front of all these people.

"If you hadn't been so. . .pushy, then the ranch wouldn't have done so well. Then our boys would have grown into little hell raisers and Susanne wouldn't have grown into our innocent precious baby girl." He continued, swaying us from side to side, dancing.

His words did make me feel a little better, made my heart beat fast with love instead of fear.

"Your right, there could have been other things. I mean, at least none of our children act like your brother Rufus." Jack stiffened, looking at me with suspicious eyes.

"What's wrong with being gay?" he almost snapped at me, I wanted to reach over and thunk him on the head.

"Nothing, you big dummy. I was referring to his wild escapades." Rufus could turn the town upside down when he stopped by for a visit.

"Ah, Rufus never liked to sit still." He chuckled, throwing me an apologetic smile.

I rolled my eyes in faux annoyance, and then grinned at him as I leaned forward to peck him on his soft lips.

Over twenty years, and I still couldn't get enough of Jack.

"Hey, ma, pa." Susanne's sad voice greeted us as we came back to sit down at our reserved table.

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