Her Texas Ex

by Katherine Garbera

  “Maybe that last crash you had knocked the sense out of you. I’ve got four inches on you, little brother, and fifty pounds.”

  “Back when you were playing it was muscle, but you’ve gone soft—”

  “Stop it—” Braden got between the two of them. “You both want to go and beat the shit out of each other, fine. But not here. Not in the parking lot.”

  Cal shook his head to clear it and turned away from Braden. His youngest brother was right. He was always the calm head during a storm, the one who was the peacekeeper much like their mom. He was the only one. Even Rose would be fighting with them.

  Oh, shit. He walked away from his brothers. If he didn’t, he might start crying. He didn’t want to feel right now. There was too much to deal with. But Braden was right. This wasn’t the place.

  “Let’s go home,” Braden said. “I think that Lane is at the Corbyns’ house. I’m going to ask Jasper to keep him overnight. We can go home and drink and fight and do all the other things we can’t do with a toddler in the house, and then tomorrow we’ll pick him up.”

  He walked back to the truck. Braden got in the middle seat and they all put their seat belts on. No one spoke a word as they drove back through Last Stand. It was the only way to get to the Delaney ranch. Past the Fuhrmann statue and the spot where Rose had died. Where TJ had died. What were they going to tell Lancey, TJ’s sister? She already had enough on her plate. But now they were all going to have to sit down and figure out what to do with Lane.

  TJ’s sister was in the Marines, so the chance of her coming home to raise the boy was slim. Plus, he couldn’t let Delaney be raised by someone else. What would Rose have wanted?

  She might have wanted her son far away from him. He hated that she might have died hating him. He wouldn’t have blamed her. He’d been an ass. Screamed at her as she’d walked out the door that his word was law. Like some kind of asshole.

  And now she was gone.

  He had to live with that. He had to live with the fact that his temper and his idea of what the Delaneys were going to be had led to this. He wanted them to be better than the outlaws who lived on the outskirts of town and had spent more time in jail than out of it. He knew that the Delaneys had always come through when the town needed them but Cal had always wanted to be more than that. He wanted to be like the Corbyns or the Highwaters or the McBrides—families that contributed something to Last Stand other than a bawdy story and a hint of fear.

  Chapter Five

  Amelia started her day the same way she had been since she returned home but for once she felt like she had a purpose. Yesterday, she’d committed to helping her mom and today she meant to find a way to bring up the things she wanted to discuss. Jax Williams, her biological father, had never contacted her again after she’d helped him, after the bone marrow transplant had been successful. So she hadn’t felt like there’d been another chance for her to talk about it with anyone.

  Her grandmother had always been there and willing to talk but Amelia had needed to figure it out on her own. Memaw seemed to understand that.

  Maybe if she hadn’t moved away…but she had.

  She pulled up in front of her family home and noticed an unfamiliar truck parked in the big driveway. She saw that Stella, her mom’s housekeeper, had parked her car in her usual spot and the door to her dad’s shed was open. She thought about Lane, that poor little boy who’d lost both of his parents and then she thought a bit more about how she’d lost hers…because of her own actions.

  Jasper and Lilly didn’t ostracize her. No, she’d done it to herself and had never figured out how to get back to where they’d been before she’d known the truth.

  She shook her head. No use in dwelling on the past. How many times had her memaw or even Minna suggested that to her when she talked to them?

  The full skirt of her cap-sleeved dress blew around her legs as she walked up the drive to her parents’ front door. It was a gorgeous spring Monday, belying the tragedy of the day before. She’d always sort of thought that weather should reflect mood like it did in movies and books sometimes. But that wasn’t reality.

  The door opened as she got there and Cal stepped out, holding his sleeping nephew. She smiled at them both when he noticed her. He looked tired and drained. She’d never seen him this way before and she wished she knew something she could do or say to make this time easier for him. But she was at a loss.

  “Morning, Cal,” she said.

  “Hiya, Amelia. Thank you for taking care of Lane yesterday,” he said.

  “You’re welcome,” she said, giving him a hug. “I’m so sorry for your loss. Is there anything I can do?”

  “I don’t think so,” Cal said. “We haven’t had a chance to plan anything.”

  “I’m going to bring food out there for dinner tonight,” she said. “Is that okay?”

  “Yeah,” he said, nodding sort of vaguely. She suddenly realized that he was sleepwalking through this day. He wasn’t ready to be back in his routine. Not yet.

  Lane was curled in his arms and she noticed that Cal rubbed his nephew’s back as he stood there watching her. She remembered something that her dad had said when Grandpa Joe had died, and Memaw was pretty much losing her mind. He’d told her and her sisters to keep her grandmother busy. She was willing to be that work for Cal too.

  “What are you doing today?” she asked.

  “I have to do some stuff in the office,” he said vaguely.

  “It’s hard to picture you in an office,” she admitted. “Whenever I think about you, it’s always on the playing field.”

  “Well, that was when we used to hang out,” he said. “But a lot of time has passed since then.”

  “It has. I’d love the chance to get to know you now,” she said. She hadn’t intended to say that, but it was truth.

  “Hi, Mela,” Lane said, rubbing his sleepy eyes and looking over at her.

  “Hi, cutie. Did you sleep good?”

  He nodded and when he did, she noticed that Mr. Stuffing was in his arms. Her dad’s childhood bear. She was touched, and she knew her family would encourage her to help the Delaneys. It was the least she could do. Lane was wearing a Last Stand, Texas, T-shirt and a pair of shorts. She had no idea where her parents had found them.

  “Do you want to play hooky today?” she asked Cal. There had never been a man who looked more…lost to her than Cal.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Memaw’s blackberry bushes are full of ripe fruit and I have my great-grandmother’s blackberry jam recipe…”

  He tipped his head to the side, studying her with that dark gaze of his and she felt like he could see through her—that he knew she liked him, and he was one of the wrongs she was back in town to right.

  “Sounds like fun. What do you say, Lane? Want to pick blackberries?”

  “Sure,” he said.

  She smiled at them both. “Um, do you know where Memaw’s house is?”

  “Everyone does.”

  “I was going to walk over, but if you want to drive, I can meet you there. I have to go talk to my parents.”

  “We’ll meet you there. We were heading to Kolalches for some donuts this morning. Can we bring you one?”

  “Yes, please. Boston cream,” she said.

  He nodded and she turned away, walking up to her parents’ front door. Cal Delaney. She knew that she should leave well enough alone. But he was going through something and of all the people in the world who had walked through her life, he was the one she felt she still owed something to. He’d stayed that sweet boy, her first love, locked in her memories all this time. And she couldn’t just walk away from him when he was hurting.

  Her mom was waiting in the foyer when she came in to the house. She was looking a little more tired than usual and Amelia debated if she should stay and talk, but honestly, she wasn’t ready to. Seeing Lane, knowing how lost he was stirred something inside of her. She wanted to be there for that little boy.

  “Can y
ou manage the shop without me today?” Amelia said.

  “Yes, I can. I think those two need you more than I do,” Mom said. “What’s going on there?”

  “We’re just old friends. But he seemed like he could use someone today,” she said.

  “I couldn’t agree more,” her mom said. “Enjoy your day and maybe tonight, you can come by for dinner.”

  “I promised to bring something out to the Delaneys.”

  “Good idea. I’ll bake a casserole, too,” Mom said. “So tomorrow for breakfast?”

  She knew her mom wasn’t going to let her wiggle out of talking alone, just the two of them. She sighed and nodded. “Why don’t you come to my place? I’ll cook.”

  *

  Kolaches was busy as he walked in and Lane squirmed to get down. He wore his boots and a pair of shorts and a T-shirt that the Corbyns had rustled up for him and his Stetson, which he took off when they entered the building, the same as Cal did. He ruffled his little nephew’s hair as they waited. Slowly as people started to recognize them, they either turned away or came over and offered their condolences.

  Shane Highwater hadn’t released the accident report, but it didn’t take a trained investigator to recognize that Rose had run the light. His skin started to feel like it was too tight for his body again. If Lane hadn’t been over at the glass case staring at all of the pastries, Cal would have walked out of the bakery.

  He wasn’t ready to talk to anyone in town. Not even the well-meaning people.

  Someone slipped their arm around his shoulder and he glanced over to see that it was Delilah. “Dude, you looked like you were about to go psycho killer.”

  “I am. I am so not ready for this,” he admitted.

  “Yeah, why don’t you chill outside,” Delilah said. “Pretend to be on your phone. I’ll get your order. What do you want?”

  He shook his head. That smacked of cowardice. He could stand in a line and order pastries without wigging out. It wasn’t like Rose was waiting for him. Again, he felt that mélange of emotions roiling through him and he knew with absolute certainty that he was going to lose it.

  “Whatever you get will be fine,” he said, handing Delilah his wallet. “Your sister wants a Boston cream.”

  “Got it.”

  He walked outside to the jingle of the bell, pulled his sunglasses out of his front pocket and went to lean against the building. Taking Delilah’s advice, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced down at the screen.

  Dammit.

  The lock screen had a reminder that he was supposed to meet TJ at the bank this afternoon.

  He rubbed the back of his neck. Lancey hadn’t called them yet but he knew she’d been on a weekend pass and had to get back to base. He had to get in touch with her and the family lawyer was coming out this afternoon to talk about custody of Lane. He really had no business picking blackberries this morning.

  The scent of lavender drifted to him on the wind and he looked up to see Amelia walking toward him. She leaned against the building next to him, her long legs crossed at the ankles. “Do you want to skip blackberry picking and just go home?”

  He looked at her, feeling like his emotions were hidden by the barrier of his dark aviator-style sunglasses. Go home?

  No.

  No matter where he went, he was faced with the truth that Rose was gone. And he couldn’t escape it or find a path to peace. Of course, it had been one day.

  “Does it get easier?” he wondered out loud.

  “Yes, but not for a long time,” she said.

  “How do you know?”

  “Just based on losing Grandpa Joe, and when I left Last Stand.”

  He tilted his head toward her and then looked away. “How does that compare?”

  “I felt like I’d lost my home. That I wasn’t going to ever have it back. The first few months when I was in New York, I reached for the phone to call and ask if I could come back but stopped myself when I remembered the truth.”

  “What truth?” he asked. Actually, this was the distraction he needed. “You were a teenager who had a great family and good friends. What secret could have driven you away?”

  She chewed her lower lip between her teeth. Before she could answer, the door opened and Delilah came out holding a bag in one hand and carrying his nephew on her back.

  “This little cowboy said he needed a piggyback ride,” Delilah said, her long blond hair cascading down her back and over his nephew who was wearing the biggest smile that Cal had seen on him in a while.

  For a few moments, he’d forgotten about his mama and Cal was glad. Lane would never forget Rose. They’d make sure of it. But he didn’t want his nephew to grow up in the specter of sadness and grief.

  Amelia grabbed the bag from her sister and Delilah stooped down to let Lane get off her back. “Remember what I said about not eating too many blackberries, scamp.”

  She stood back up. “If you have some extras, bring them by the restaurant. I’d love to use them in a dish I’m working on.”

  “I will. Thanks for this,” Amelia said lifting up the bag.

  “Thank Cal. It was his treat,” she said, handing him back his wallet.

  Delilah hugged her sister, ruffled Lane’s hair and then hugged him before walking away. They all watched her leave.

  “I know the best place to eat breakfast,” Amelia said to Lane, taking his hand in hers. “A big swing under an arbor of rose bushes.”

  “Like Mama.”

  “Just like Mama,” Amelia said, and Cal felt his throat get tight. He wasn’t going to be able to do this. Not today. Maybe not ever. There was too much inside of him and all the tequila in the world hadn’t dulled it.

  “I can’t do this,” he said.

  “Okay,” she said. “How about if you come home with me so you don’t have to be alone?”

  “Okay.”

  *

  Cal just started walking up Main toward the cross street that led to her grandmother’s house. She followed along with Lane, thinking that she was the worst person in the world to be trying to help him. She wasn’t good at dealing with emotion. She ran away when things got too dicey—she knew that and so did Cal. Firsthand.

  But she wasn’t running this time. When she’d come back to Last Stand, she’d made a promise to herself and she was determined to keep it. No more taking off. No more avoiding the uncomfortable things.

  Lane walked slowly and took his time stopping to pick a stick up off the ground and then he took his hat off and straightened it out.

  Cal stopped and turned back and she saw a man…so broken. She knew she needed to make today about fun and keep Lane occupied so Cal could deal with everything he had going on.

  She didn’t think about it, she knew what she had to do. So she scooped Lane up in her arms and went to Cal, wrapped him in her arms and just held him. “This sucks. This is always going to suck and I wish you weren’t in this position.”

  His arms came around her and he held her and Lane tightly to him, his face buried in her neck. She felt the burn of his tears against her collarbone. She just held him.

  “Unca, don’t be sad,” Lane said, and Amelia saw his little hand patting Cal’s shoulder.

  Cal rubbed his eyes against her shoulder and lifted his head, taking Lane from her. And then he held her hand as they continued walking toward Memaw’s house. She fell into step beside him and when they got to her grandmother’s home, they went around back to the converted carport. Memaw’s car wasn’t there—she had Bible study first thing in the morning.

  So they went to the carport with the large swinging bed that was draped with a spring patterned quilt that Memaw and Great-Aunt Edie had made when they were girls. Lane was pretty excited to see a bed that was a swing and Cal sat down on it with his nephew.

  “Chocolate milk for Lane? Or juice? Coffee for us?” she asked.

  “Apple juice for Lane,” Cal said. “He needs a straw.”

  “I got you covered. You guys see if yo
u can get that swing working. I’ll be back soon,” she said. Then she took the path that led to the back door of her memaw’s house and keyed in the code to unlock the door.

  Christy, her grandmother’s rescue collie, came running over to greet her, she rubbed the dog’s neck and gave her a treat before she went to make cups of coffee for herself and Cal and fix the juice for Lane.

  She added a splash of fat-free half-and-half to her coffee and realized she didn’t know how Cal took his. She started to lean out the back door to ask him and saw him sitting in the middle of the bed swing, holding Lane, his head bent over his nephew’s. They were talking quietly and she realized he might need some time alone with his sister’s son.

  So, she sat down at the kitchen table where she had a view of Cal and drank her coffee. She was stumbling her way through this and she wasn’t going to try to stick to a schedule or make him do anything he wasn’t ready for.

  It was clear to her he needed time and space. And this place that wasn’t his home. A place where he’d never seen Rose and wouldn’t be surrounded by her memories.

  She pulled out her phone and answered a few emails while she gave him his privacy and then she looked up and noticed he was looking at the house. There was something about Cal that made it hard for her to keep her attention on what she was doing. Her gaze kept straying back to him. It didn’t help that he looked even better now than he had in high school. She knew he needed a friend and she wanted to be that to him.

  “Hey,” she said, opening the back door so she had a reason to see him. “I don’t know how you take your coffee.”

  “Milk and two sugars,” he said with a smile that made her notice how full his mouth was.

  She nodded and went to make it the way he’d requested. “Just be his friend,” she muttered to herself.

  Then she walked back outside and they had their breakfast with very little conversation. After they’d cleaned up, she gathered some baskets from the bar area on the carport.