Lone Star Longing (Hearts of Broken Wheel, #1)

by Fredrick, MJ

  “I’ll get it.”

  When he walked away, Poppy nudged her with her arm. When Lacey looked at her friend, Poppy lifted her eyebrows—Poppy had always wanted to raise just one eyebrow but could never master it. Lacey waved off the silent question, but Poppy gave a pointed look in the direction Beck was walking.

  “He’s just being nice.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “He’s always been nice. And there’s the whole ‘look out for a pregnant lady’ thing.” Had that been why he’d been so nice to her the past few days? Because she was pregnant?

  “He knows?”

  “I didn't tell him, but I guess someone did.” She held back her sigh of disappointment. At least she wouldn't have to have that awkward conversation with him. But she hadn’t even told her mother, and Beck knew. “And it won’t be easy to hide in a little while.” She lifted her shirt enough so Poppy could see her unbuttoned shorts, then dropped the hem again before anyone else could see.

  “You’re going to need to go shopping for clothes soon.”

  “I can just go to the thrift store, get some things. It’s not like I want to spend a lot on clothes I won’t wear long.”

  “You also don't want Melissa Dunfry’s hand-me-downs, do you?”

  Melissa had about four kids, and well, she hadn’t regained her shape. “I’m sure they have more than her maternity clothes.”

  “Or we could go into San Angelo and heck, even go to Target or something and get you something cute, for when Jesse returns.”

  Just mention of his name tightened Lacey’s belly. God, that was not a good sign. Was it because he’d been gone so long? Was it his reaction to her news? She hadn’t heard from him at all. He was due to go on leave next month. She’d thought she would go meet him in San Angelo when he got back, surprise him. See what his reaction was. And go from there.

  She was fully prepared to raise this baby on her own. Her dad would help her if she needed it, but she was strong enough to do it on her own.

  She straightened and pulled herself back to the present. She was here to have fun with her friends, not worry about Jesse or her future.

  Beck returned with a foam cup of iced tea and set it on the rough wooden table in front of her, then sat on the other side of Poppy, looking toward the washer boxes.

  “You think we’re going to get a chance to play?”

  “When did the tournament start?” Lacey asked.

  “I don't know, before I got here.”

  “So maybe they won’t be playing much longer.”

  “Maybe.”

  “When was the last time you played washers?” she asked.

  He chuckled. “It’s been a few years.”

  She reached into her purse and pulled out a Crown Royal bag filled with washers that she’d painted with nail polish back when she had free time to do dumb stuff like that. “You can be on my team, then.”

  He laughed as the others pulled out their bags of washers, some in the velvet Crown Royal bags, some in homemade bags, some in old drawstring bags. “I may be out of my league here.”

  “It’ll come back to you, Con said, clapping him on the shoulder before sitting on the other side of him. “Tell us about your travels.”

  Beck’s face reddened as the rest of the group urged him on. He glanced at her and she glanced away, looking into her cup of lemonade, not meeting his gaze. She didn't know whether he was waiting for encouragement or not, but he started talking about how he got the job with Riley Foster, and how awestruck he’d been, meeting these celebrities he’d grown up watching on the TV and now they were coming to him for answers. She thought he might sound a little wistful. He hadn’t told her why he’d come back, why he’d left Riley in the middle of the season. Not her business, of course, and she didn't know if he’d been fired for taking so long to get back after stopping off in Broken Wheel.

  He talked about seeing Monaco and driving on the Autobahn, and how he’d felt like a complete rube and how he hadn’t really known what to eat because he hadn’t grown up eating anything like the food there, and it had been so rich that he’d made himself sick. Suddenly Lacey felt sorry for poor young Beck, out of his element, wanting to have an adventure but in no way prepared for it because he’d grown up in a tiny West Texas town.

  Poppy, also, seemed to feel sorry for him, because she reached over and put her hand on his arm.

  This time Lacey lifted her single eyebrow, something she could do that drove Poppy crazy.

  She had to calm the envy that rose in her. She had no claim on Beck. She didn’t want a claim on him. She didn't need a complication in her already complicated life, especially a complication that wouldn't be around for long. He wouldn't be happy here in Broken Wheel. He did not want to be tied down.

  She didn't want to tie anyone down.

  She turned her attention back to the washers, especially to the boy playing with his dad. The kid was pretty good, standing on one box, concentrating as he balanced the washer on his finger and thumb, then flicked it toward the box ten away.

  His washer landed pretty close to the first hole made of a metal pipe, and he tossed again, this one landing closer to the second hole. His dad muttered something from behind him, and the kid glanced back, adjusted his stance, and tossed. This one landed in the third hole, the target worth the most points. Lacey clapped, drawing a surprised look from the kid. She wasn't sure what to do when she made eye contact, so she just offered a thumbs up.

  Then the boy moved off the box so the opposing team could toss their three washers, and man, they were good. Lacey could see the dad’s frustration when he took his turn. They were seven points behind. His anxiety didn't improve his aim, though, and he snarled something at the kid when his turn was up. The kid flinched initially, but caught himself and straightened, not meeting anyone’s gaze as he watched the second player on the other team toss.

  Lacey tensed when the kid took his turn, and while he had a respectable three tosses, he didn't close the gap in their scores. His dad whirled on him, and Lacey was on her feet, ready to step in if the dad raised a hand to the kid.

  What the hell did he think, bringing his kid to a tournament and having him play against adults? Did he think he was going to win? Did he think this was a way to bond to his kid, by berating him in public? Lacey was so glad she didn't have that kind of relationship with her dad.

  She was halfway between her table and the father and son when she heard the father say, “Go get us a damn table.”

  When the kid passed her, on the way to find a table, she patted his shoulder in passing, felt the muscles clench with just that brief contact.

  “Good game,” she said, and when he paused, then nodded, before he moved on to find a table in the crowded yard.

  She looked up to see his father looking at her, eyes narrowed, and her blood chilled. She’d seen that look on Jesse’s face. She would never never allow that look to be directed at her child.

  She nodded in his direction and turned back to her table as the next team took the box.

  When she marched past Beck, he touched her hand, and she looked down to see approval in his gaze.

  No, she didn't want a relationship with Beck, but she was pretty sure she didn't want one with the father of her child, either.

  Their teams didn't have a chance to play for another hour, when a pair of boxes opened up, but the time passed quickly.

  By then, Con, Javi and Ginny were pretty drunk, and the temptation to put them all on the same team just to watch what happened was great. Instead, Ginny, Beck, Lacey and Javi played against Con, Poppy, Sofia and Sofia’s sister Teresa.

  The teams argued about who would go first, before Beck guided Lacey forward.

  “You start us off.”

  “No pressure,” she countered, and took her stance.

  She didn't even make it to the box, her washer landing in the dust just before it.

  “Warm-up shot,” Beck said. “We’ll all take a warm-up round.”

>   She was going to wave off the suggestion, but everyone agreed. She took a bit more time with her next shot, made it between the first and second hole.

  “Yeah!” Beck’s cheer was the loudest.

  He needed to calm down, or more of their friends would suspect something was up between them. Heck, even she was starting to wonder if something was up between them.

  She couldn't even think that way until she settled things with Jesse.

  The game was fun, even more so because they were laughing at Ginny and Con, who more often than not missed the box, no matter how many times they claimed a “warm-up round.”

  She hadn’t enjoyed herself so much in a long time, hadn’t relaxed, hadn’t felt like her old self. Nothing like good friends to remind her who she was.

  “I’m going to take Con and Javi home,” Beck told her as she slung her purse back over her shoulder. “Can you give Ginny a lift?”

  “Yeah, sure.” She considered him, realized she didn't know how much he’d had to drink, and Con lived far from town. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “Yeah, I quit drinking over an hour ago. It’s all good.”

  She nodded. “Good. I’m glad you thought about that.” His action was very responsible. Had he always been responsible? She guessed he’d had to be. He was certainly the most responsible of his siblings, checking on his mom. “I guess I’ll see you later this week. Have a good one.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “You too.”

  She was heading through the gate when she heard footsteps behind her and the young boy she’d been cheering for earlier stood before her.

  “Um, I just wanted to say, good game,” he said, his words a bit of a stammer.

  She smiled, looked from him to his father, who nodded his approval.

  “Thanks,” she said. “You too. Maybe next time our teams can play each other.”

  He grinned at that. “We’ll whoop you.”

  She winked and hefted her bag of washers. “We’ll just see about that.”

  Chapter Nine

  “I’M SORRY, MRS. CONOVER, I’m going to have to adjust my schedule next week,” Lacey said when she returned to the house on Wednesday. She missed Mrs. Conover being in town, but why spend the money when the house was livable again. “I need to go into San Angelo for my first appointment.”

  “What day is that?”

  “It’s Wednesday, so can I come on Thursday instead?”

  Mrs. Conover harrumphed. “When will that Austin Driscoll get out of school and get back here? We’re paying for his med school so he can come back here and service this town, and he seems to be taking his sweet time about it.”

  “Well, med school takes about twelve years, so it probably won’t be much longer.” She knew because she’d looked into it herself. She couldn't imagine Austin would be in any hurry to come back, though, to this town that blamed his mother for the bus accident that killed her. She bet he was sorry he ever made the arrangement to serve the town for ten years after med school in exchange for graduating with no debt.

  She knew he’d done his undergrad work in two and a half years, because he hadn’t needed to work, just had to push himself through. So he was probably pretty close to being done, but she’d lost touch with him over the years, and didn't know how he was doing now.

  In any case, she didn't want one of her friends becoming her ob/gyn. That would be just too weird.

  “Anyway, I have an appointment next week, so I’m going to go, and I won’t be here on Wednesday.” She was having to adjust her whole schedule to accommodate the trip, especially since Poppy was going with her, and they would add shopping for maternity clothes on the list. Poppy was way more excited than Lacey.

  “Fine, come Thursday, though I bet, if Beck really wanted to save money, he could learn how to take my blood pressure and test my sugars and you wouldn't have to come out here at all while he’s here.”

  That threat took Lacey aback. “If that’s what you want,” she said, trying not to be stung by the threat. “I’m sure Beck can fix your meals and clean the house, too, if that’s what you want.”

  “It is not what I want,” Beck said, coming in through the kitchen door. “One disruption to your schedule isn’t going to cause trouble, Mother.”

  How much had he overheard? Lacey felt her face heating. Mrs. Conover noticed, too, because her tone grew sharper.

  “She’s never spent such a long chunk of time out here as she’s been spending since you’ve come out,” Mrs. Conover accused. “She’s not coming here to see me. She’s coming here to see you.”

  “Mrs. Conover, that’s not true.” Lacey didn't even think the accusation that she was spending more time here than usual was true. If she was, it was because the house was more chaotic with all the repairs going on. But she wasn't going to argue with the woman. She was going to do her job and head out. She needed to let her other clients, Mrs. Drexler and Mr. Dunfry, know she wouldn't be available Wednesday, either, though she didn't know if they knew she was pregnant yet. She tried to be vague about it because she didn't know who had heard the gossip and who hadn’t.

  “I see the way you two look at each other, and I honestly don't know what you’re thinking, either one of you.”

  “Well, then you can't say you know what’s going on, then,” Lacey clapped back. “Really, Mrs. Conover, I’m here to do my job and that’s it. So if you’d please.” She motioned to the living room. “Go rest. I don't want to take your blood pressure when you’re upset.”

  “I’m not upset.”

  “Yes, ma’am, your face is red, and your blood pressure is up. I’m going to clean up the kitchen, then I’ll come in there and take your vitals.” Lacey turned to Beck when his mother grudgingly shuffled out of the kitchen. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

  He raised his hands in surrender and took a couple of steps back. “No, ma’am, I just came in to get something to drink, if that’s okay with you?”

  She sighed, consciously relaxing her shoulders. “Sorry. What are you working on today?”

  “Well, the bathroom tile is drying, so I’m thinking once you leave, I’m going to tear up the front porch and put down some new planks.”

  “You don't have to wait until I leave. I can use the back door.”

  He grunted and opened the refrigerator door, looking at the contents for a moment before selecting a bottle of water.

  Mrs. Conover never wanted bottled water. She said her well was just fine though the water often had sediment in it. But since Beck was working so much, he’d stocked up on bottled water, and Lacey had noticed a bottle on the TV tray by Mrs. Conover’s chair when she’d walked through the living room.

  “So you’re going to the doctor Wednesday?”

  “So you’re eavesdropping on conversations?” she countered, reaching into the grocery bag to pull out the chicken she’d bought to prepare for them.

  “Yep,” he said unapologetically.

  “Yes. Doctor. Sonogram. They say that’s the best way to discover the due date.”

  “You don't have to convince me. I’m all for medical advancements.”

  “Have you kept in touch with Austin?” Beck and Austin had been in the same class, after all.

  “No, not once I got into the service. You?”

  “I got an invitation to his undergrad graduation, but I didn't go. I wish I had, now. He got through it in less than three years.”

  “I think he’s pretty determined to prove himself.”

  “He shouldn’t have to. People shouldn’t have said what they did about his mom. The accident wasn't her fault.”

  “People want to blame someone, and she was the adult on the bus.”

  “Sure, but there was nothing she could have done. And I hate that her memory is tainted by that, I hate that Austin has to hear people say that Why can’t they just let it all go?”

  He stared at her. “And you’ve lived here how long?”

  “Going on fifteen years.”


  “You’d think you’d know how to answer your own questions, then.”

  She shrugged one shoulder, accepting the logic of that statement.

  “I better get back to that porch. Don't forget, use this door when you leave.” And he ducked out through the back door.

  LACEY WAS PRETTY EXCITED about going into San Angelo, even though she’d told Poppy otherwise. She wanted to see what was new in town, wanted to eat something she hadn’t cooked or something that wasn't served at the diner or the Mexican restaurant. She didn't know where Poppy wanted to go but she was sure she could find something she’d like.

  She didn't see Poppy’s car waiting in front of the hardware where they’d agreed to meet. Huh. Poppy was usually the early one.

  Instead...was that Beck’s truck?

  Even as she realized it, Beck opened the truck door and stepped down. “Hey, you ready?”

  “Ready for what?”

  His brows drew together. “Poppy didn't tell you? She couldn’t get the day off, and she thought maybe you and I could go together instead.”

  “She thought what?” Lacey plunged her hand into her purse and grabbed her phone, glaring at it.

  Sure enough, a message displayed on the screen that hadn’t been there when she left the house.

  “Can’t get a sub. Sorry. Beck said he had to go to town anyway so I thought....”

  Of course she thought. Of course she did.

  “When did she ask you?” Lacey demanded, shoving her phone back in her purse.

  He backed toward the hood of his truck, like he was guiding her around to the other side. “This morning. She said she tried to get in touch with you but you don't always have great reception, so she told me what time to meet you.”

  “I don't need a babysitter. I was looking forward to a girl’s day.”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. But we’re both going the same place, why not just go together? I have to go get flooring tiles for Mom’s house, and it’s just faster to go get it than to have it shipped.”

  She looked at him suspiciously. “So you’ll go take care of that while I’m at the doctor?”