Genevieve bustled in carrying an armload of large, thick envelopes. She handed each of them one, still wearing her bubbly smile. Her earrings caught the light and reminded Baxter of what Roe had said about diamonds. He really didn’t have any desire to learn what made Buzz tick. If the man had layers, then they were like an onion. The deeper you go, the more you tear up.
Brennan, Ash, and Adam took their envelopes and placed them on the table. Arc and Baxter emptied the contents of theirs.
After several minutes of skimming the paperwork, Arc asked, “Who’s Alaska Kellington? She’s in the will.”
Roe pushed his round glasses further up his nose. “Yes. Buzz included her in his will. She will receive two hundred thousand.”
“Is she a sister?” Baxter prepared himself for the answer.
A series of more moans were heard around the table.
“No. She’s not a sister, or even a relative. She was your father’s nurse during his last year.”
“She must have been some nurse to convince Buzz to leave her such a hefty chunk of money.” Arc’s brows scrunched.
“And he left her a house here in Tarnation too,” Baxter added. “Are you sure nurse is her title and not lover?”
Roe paled. “I assure you, Ms. Kellington wasn’t his lover, but if you decide to stay, you’ll be able to ask her any questions that you may have when she gets here. She’s due to arrive at the end of next week to finalize the paperwork.”
“I’d think she’d be in a bigger hurry to get here,” Brennan said with a sniff.
“She had a few loose ends to tie up.” Roe removed his glasses and tucked them into the front pocket of his jacket.
“What hoops does she have to jump through, or did she already when our father was alive?” Ash asked.
“I’m the wrong person to ask.” Roe stacked his papers neatly and tucked them under his arm. “I’m sorry, but I have to be back in court in ten minutes. In the meantime, my business card is included in your packet. Good day, fellows.”
He didn’t waste any time exiting the room.
Five sets of eyes darted down the table where Genevieve shifted awkwardly and gave a small wave. “Can I pack up the muffins to go?”
“Yes,” Brennan blurted. Baxter elbowed him. “What, bro? They’re the best damn muffins I’ve ever had.”
Baxter guessed this was going to be the longest six months of his life.
*
“What the hell happened to you?”
Abriella Craig dropped her soaked purse on the counter and looked at her brother who had his sandwich lifted mid-air, staring at her over it in disbelief. She didn’t bother telling him that not only had she almost been run over by a maniac in a truck, but he’d managed to give her a rain puddle bath in the process. She had other things on her mind. “What are you doing home, DJ?”
He bit into his grilled cheese and said around a mouth full, “It’s my break. Remember? We talked about it last week. I told you I would come home and help at the bakery. Sheesh, sis. Am I that easily forgotten?”
She ruffled his thick, curly hair and kissed him on the cheek. “No. I missed you.” She snuck a bite of his sandwich. “But I don’t miss this.” He’d left a big mess on the counter and stove.
“I’ll clean it up after I’m done eating.”
“You better.” Sliding her soaked sweater and shoes off, she placed them by the back door. “I really am sorry that I had forgotten. You could have stopped at the Bluebonnet when you got in. I was backed up on orders.”
“I just got home an hour ago and I was hungry. Lighten up, sis. I love you too.”
DJ was right, she needed to lighten up. She couldn’t take her frustration for the earlier events out on him. Giving him an apologetic smile, she said, “How about I go get out of these wet and dirty clothes, then I’ll make us some hot cocoa and we can catch up?”
He blinked. “What about the bakery?”
“Hannah has it covered for a few hours. Anyway, it’s not every day that my little brother gets to visit home from college. I even have some of those cookies you love.”
His eyes sparkled, which made her happy. “I’ll make more grilled cheese.”
“You know I like mine with extra cheese.”
After taking a quick shower and dressing, she met DJ back in the kitchen. This time he had a chocolate chip cookie in his hand along with two grilled cheese sandwiches on a plate, and his head bent over his phone.
She took out a pan and the ingredients for cocoa. Abriella always made it the way her mother used to. “How’s school?” she asked while stirring sweetened condensed milk into the pan.
Setting his phone on the counter, DJ shrugged. “Same stuff. Ready for it to be over.
“The last time we talked, you were thinking about joining a few clubs at school, especially the swim team. How’d that go?”
“I decided not to.”
“But you love to swim and compete.”
“It’s okay. I’m busy with classes. How’s mom?”
Obviously, he wanted to change the subject, so she let him with a plan on revisiting it later.
The cocoa reached the right temperature and she poured each of them a cup, adding marshmallow crème and sprinkles. “About the same since you saw her last.”
“Will she remember me? She didn’t the last time.” He grabbed another cookie from the glass jar and dipped it into his cocoa.
“Maybe. Maybe not, but either way, just be patient. You know the drill.” She slid onto the stool next to him and grabbed one of the sandwiches. “It’s good that you’re here. It’ll mean a lot that you’re visiting.” She tore off a bit of the sandwich and popped it into her mouth.
“Have you thought any more about selling the Bluebonnet?”
She dropped the grilled cheese to the plate and swiped her hands down her jeaned thighs. “Wow. It didn’t take you long to mention selling. This time it must be a record.”
“Come on, sis. Don’t get upset with me, but she’s not getting any better. The doctors said—”
“I know what they say.” With a sigh, she slid off the stool and went to lean against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s not that she won’t get better, DJ. I promised her I wouldn’t sell the place.”
A strand of hair fell over his forehead, making him look much younger than his twenty-two years. When they were kids, she’d always protected him and took care of him when he had nightmares or had trouble at school. When their mom and dad were fighting, Abriella had been there to keep him calm. In many ways she felt more like his mother than sister.
“She asked you to promise when she wasn’t thinking clearly. Parkinson’s had already—”
“Our mother loved the bakery. I do too. It’s a family business. There are a lot of memories.”
“There were a lot of memories made in my first car too, but you made me get rid of it to buy something reliable.”
“I don’t even want to know the details.”
“I know you love Bluebonnet, but this isn’t where you wanted to open a bakery. You had plans to live in San Antonio where you’d have a wider market. If we sold now, we could pay off my tuition and still have enough left for you to follow your dreams. Especially now—” He closed his mouth.
“Wait. What are you talking about? Especially now what?”
He rolled his eyes. “Now that Buzz Colt is gone, you know all his properties will be sold, including the building that the bakery is in. Then what? Maybe this is the time to move on.”
“We don’t know this. Let’s not borrow trouble until we know what’s really happening.” Although she said the words, she’d been on pins and needles lately herself wondering the same question. What would happen now that the owner of her building, and many others in Tarnation, had died. She’d considered buying the building herself, but getting a loan would require forty-percent down, which she didn’t have.
“Oh well. Thanks for the cocoa. I’m going to unpack my bag and I’l
l head over to the bakery to help.” He slid off the stool, gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, and headed toward his bedroom.
Loading the dishwasher with the dirty dishes and cleaning the countertop, she was wiping down the sink when she saw the open envelope from DJ’s university. She took out the letter from inside and read it…
“We’re excited to inform you that you’ve been accepted to study abroad. To ensure your spot, we must have the first payment…”
Abriella closed the letter. Why didn’t DJ tell her the news? She had a feeling he didn’t because of the money the trip required. Her heart dropped. He’d always wanted to study in another country. Maybe she could work it out for him…With a few minutes to spare, she stepped over to the desk in the living room and scanned the clutter with disappointment. Papers stacked on the corner needed her attention. A basket of envelopes needed mailed. Tax documents needed sent to her accountant.
Dropping down into the chair, she clicked on Pandora. The slow, even rhythm of the song playing relaxed her some, but not enough. Laying her head back and closing her eyes, she concentrated on her breaths. She felt like she had a boulder the size of a small city on her shoulders. What she wouldn’t give to break down and cry, but she couldn’t. There were a lot of people relying on her, especially her mother and brother.
Opening her eyes, she stared at the ceiling. A new water stain had formed, which meant another leak. The roof was due to be fixed.
The walls needed painted.
The fence in back needed repaired.
The refrigerator was on the fritz.
Maybe it was time to sell the house. Although this was the only home she and her brother ever knew, it needed work. She could make enough profit to pay her bills.
But where would she go?
Above Bluebonnet there was a small space that they’d been using for storage. She could transform the area into an apartment. What more did she need?
Yet, if she sold her house and Buzz’s kin sold the bakery building, she would not only be out of work, but she’d be homeless too.
CHAPTER 2
“What can I get for you, Hank?” Abriella wiped down the counter and poured the frequent customer a cup of black coffee. “I made those apple fritters you love. They just came out of the oven a few minutes ago.”
“I think I’ll take one, my dear.” The elderly man slid up on the stool, hooking his cane beside him and slipping off his wool hat to place it on his lap. He came into the diner every morning since his wife had passed away three years ago. It was customers like him who made Abriella’s day better and proved why she held onto Bluebonnet.
“Coming right up.” She put a fritter onto a small plate and, when she placed it in front of Hank, he patted her hand. He had gnarled, twisted fingers and weathered skin from working his farm for over fifty years. There wasn’t a harder working man in Tarnation than Hank Goodale. Although he was getting up in age, he always made sure to help neighbors when they needed it.
“How’s that roof of yours holding up?”
“It’s still standing.”
“And how’s your mom?” he asked with gentle eyes. Hank had known her mother since they were in elementary.
Abriella smiled, pulled away, and busied herself drying cups and stacking them neatly. Because she loved her mom so much, talking about her sometimes triggered the waterworks. Even after this long she was still sensitive to the travesty that her mom had been struck with early onset Parkinson’s Disease. Although doctors realized her symptoms were coming on fast, no one had any idea that the disease would ravage her so quickly and a week before her fifty-third birthday she would have to be moved into a nursing home. Abriella had tried to take care of Rosa on her own, but it had become too much, especially when she started falling and having moments of anger.
At twenty-seven, Abriella had taken over Bluebonnet, and although she had other plans for her life, just as DJ reminded her often, fate played a different hand, and now she had the responsibility of paying for his tuition and her mother’s care.
Her mother had been her best friend. Confidant. Support system. Having a drunk for a father who had become the laughingstock of Tarnation when he fell off the bar stool or stumbled down the street meant his family had also become the target of ridicule by others. At seven, she knew that her family was different—that she was different. Embarrassed, she stopped playing with kids at school and eventually shut everyone out. With no friends, she had to look for ways to stay entertained. She found solace through books. In between pages of her favorites, she found new worlds, friends in abundance, and a life free of a drunken father and mother who worked at Bluebonnet from dusk till dawn to earn enough wages to support the family—and her husband’s drinking habits because he could never hold down a job.
After school, she’d go to the bakery, do her homework, and help her mother create new recipes. Eventually she’d snuggle up in the corner booth and read until it was time to go home.
It wasn’t the normal life of a child, but her mom had been loving and kind. When DJ was born, Abriella had enjoyed helping take care of him. When business was slow at the bakery, Rosa would make cocoa, their favorite cookies, and play loud music so they could dance around silly like they didn’t have a care in the world. Once Abriella knew her way around the kitchen, Rosa gave her the freedom to create anything she wanted. For several years it was hit or miss, but her mother always assured Abriella that the fastest way to learn was the mistakes that were made.
She graduated high school and went away to college where she no longer felt judged by people who knew her past. She made friends, joined clubs, and was an honor student. She’d even met a young man who made her laugh.
Then in her senior year, Rosa started having tremors, sometimes so severely that she couldn’t hold a fork or spoon. Once she started falling, Abriella forced her mother to go to the doctor where she was examined thoroughly. The diagnosis of Parkinson’s had been shocking. Months before graduation, Abriella had no choice but to come home and help take care of things, especially DJ.
For several years, Rosa had good and bad days. During the bad ones they got through with the help from friends at church. Yet when the bad days got worse, Abriella realized the disease couldn’t be held off and she took over at the bakery.
So, here she was running Bluebonnet and making decisions that were a lot to handle without her mother’s advice.
“She’s fine,” she finally answered. “How’s that fritter?”
“Excellent.”
Planting a smile on her face, her cheeks ached. She had become a pro at appearing happy when she felt like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. That’s what a person did when she wanted to protect and care for others. She’d always managed to keep DJ uninformed on the negativity. Luckily, since Abriella had expanded the business to social functions, they were getting more orders for weddings and birthday parties, but to maintain more business, the bakery needed new appliances.
“What is it with guys? They say they’ll call and then they don’t. I’m at a loss,” Lanie Duggar said from the end of the counter as she clicked off her phone.
Abriella laughed at her friend’s man troubles. This wasn’t the first guy Lanie had a first date with that never called for a second. She’d been finding all of them on a dating app that usually ended in disappointment. “That’s the very reason why I don’t date, so I don’t have to figure out what a man’s thinking, Lanie. It’s safer this way when I only have a cat to feed and take care of.”
Picking a piece off her caramel chocolate muffin, Lanie washed it down with a gulp of her coffee. “Some of us don’t need se—” she looked down the counter for listeners. Hank was quietly enjoying his fritter. “Well, some don’t need their toast buttered as often as others do.”
Feeling her cheeks warm, Abriella cleared her throat and topped off her friend’s cup. “I hope you don’t talk about buttered toast to your third-grade class.”
“That brings me to a
nother question. What do you think of Johnny Walker’s dad?” Lanie casually tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and her chandelier earrings twinkled in the light.
“Hmm.” Abriella leaned against the edge of the counter. “Donovan, isn’t it? The science professor that lives over on fourth street?” The balding man with the large thick framed glasses wasn’t Lanie’s usual type of guy. She normally went for the Tom Cruises rather than the Albert Einsteins. “For you?”
“Why do you look so shocked?” Lanie tapped the rim of her cup with a bright pink acrylic nail. “He must be interested in me. He has little Johnny bring in gifts every week. In fact, one time he brought me in a bouquet of pansies and the last was a pencil with a book as an eraser. How cute.”
“And you think they’re actually from his dad?”
“Of course. What third grader bothers with gifts for his teacher?”
“Well, maybe Donovan is trying to win your heart.”
“It’ll take a bigger blossom than a pansy to do that, sugar.”
“I don’t know him much, and he’s only been in here a couple of times, but he seems very nice. I think you should ask him out.” Living in Tarnation, a population under ten thousand, meant the pickins’ were slim which made it easier for Abriella to stay focused on not dating. However, for someone like Lanie who always needed companionship, it could be difficult and why she’d turned to the help of an app in finding love.
Although the two women were completely different, they’d become fast friends when Lanie had moved to Tarnation several years back after accepting a teaching position at the local public school.
“Me? Ask him out? Honey, I don’t ever ask a man out.” She crumbled her muffin. “Any word yet on what’s going to happen with Bluebonnet since old geezer Buzz Colt is dead?” She lifted a groomed brow.
“Lanie, shhh, that’s no way to speak of the deceased.” Abriella checked to make sure Hank was still interested in his coffee and not their conversation.
Cowboy Hank (Cooper's Hawke Landing Book 3) Page 22