Candis Terry - [Sweet, Texas 01]

by Anything But Sweet

  “So now you’re telling me? Not asking?”

  “You had your opportunity to say yes.”

  “You’re a pushy woman, you know that?”

  “You’re not the first to relay that bit of information. But it’s not going to stop me either.” She reached out and tapped him on the chest. “It’s a man’s world out there, Mr. Wilder. And it’s my job to make sure they know they’re doing it all wrong.”

  She turned on the heels of her Nike Flex Trainers and headed toward the door. “Come on, Pumpkin.” Her dog trotted out of the stockroom, where, apparently, by the little skip in her trot, she’d been pestering Bear again.

  When Charli reached the door, she stopped and turned. “Deliveries should start tomorrow. If you could make a space where our crew can easily find it, it would be most appreciated.” With a little zing in her step, she cruised outside onto the boardwalk. Behind her, she heard the distinct blast of an F-bomb being dropped.

  The summer sun dipped below the hilltops as Reno leaned back in the saddle. Beneath him, the big quarter horse relaxed and rested his weight on one hip. Reno pushed down the brim of his hat to cut the glare while he looked out over the cattle grazing across the hillside.

  Most days he was accompanied on the ride to check the stock by one or the other of his brothers. This evening, he’d slipped out before either of them had gotten off work from their day jobs. Jackson, a San Antonio fireman as well as a member of the local volunteer fire department, tended to have long and irregular hours. Jesse—the area’s only veterinarian—showed up on time and without fail unless he was out on a call.

  This evening, Reno just needed a little quiet time to reflect. Although, if you asked any member of his family, reflection was the one thing on which he spent entirely too much time.

  He smiled as two calves trotted to their mother, then butted heads to be the first to start their evening meal.

  The Wilder spread had been tough for their father to maintain when his sons had enlisted in the Marines. When Jared, the oldest, had been killed, it almost killed their father too. With the exception of Jake, the youngest, who was still deployed to Afghanistan, the rest had come home one by one to help out. But by then it had been clear their father had lost the heart to run the store or ranch. Or even breathe.

  One morning, about two years before, he’d left for the store earlier than usual. When Reno arrived a few hours later, he found his father in the stockroom sitting at the small desk in the corner—head down on his crossed arms. For a moment, Reno thought the big man was taking a quick nap. But it had quickly become apparent that Reno had been alone in the room. His father, who’d been a giant-hearted man, had taken his larger-than-life spirit and left the earth.

  Beneath him, Cisco let out a huge horse sigh as Reno himself let out a long exhale. That day, his father’s death had devastated him far more than when he’d been five, and his birth mother had walked out of their ratty drug-infested apartment in Nevada and never returned.

  She hadn’t always been a shitty mother. He vaguely remembered times when she’d hold him, stroke his face with her bony fingers, and promise things would be okay. But more often than not, she’d walk around in a meth-induced haze and forget he even existed.

  Joe Wilder had started out his uncle, but when Reno’s mother abandoned him, the man didn’t hesitate for a moment to take Reno in and make him one of his own. To add him to the brood of four boys he’d already sired. Joe had become a father, a friend, a mentor, a role model.

  A hero.

  Reno had spent a lifetime trying to show his appreciation.

  In his will, his father had equally divided up the ranch and requested his sons join their mother and build their lives, homes, and families on the land that had meant everything to him. The land his family had owned for generations. In tribute to the man who laughed often and loved large, Reno and his brothers had created a special place up on the hill.

  Reno’s gaze swept the hillside and found the rustic fence that surrounded two graves. His father and big brother were buried there—side by side—beneath that large live oak. Nowhere on this land gave Reno a bigger sense of inner peace. He inhaled a deep breath of clean air, damp grass, and the pungent scent of cattle moving across rich soil. He took a moment to feel the spirits that moved across the land, and he smiled at the memory of his father’s laughter as he first began to teach Reno to rope and ride.

  The first few tries had been a disaster, as Reno’s feet could barely stay in the stirrups, and the lasso seemed too long and heavy to keep in control. But he’d kept at it. The first time he’d popped a loop over a calf’s head, his father had rewarded him with a smile and cheered like he’d hit a home run. From then on, Reno knew he was right where he belonged and, most importantly, how to please the man who, by Reno’s good fortune, had become his dad.

  Behind him, the sound of hooves beat at a fast clip across the meadow. He turned in the saddle to find Jackson and Jesse in a race. Laughter played on their faces. From the moment he’d been brought into the Wilder home, Reno had busted his ass to become a part of the family.

  To be one of the boys.

  He’d learned he hadn’t needed to try so hard. From Jared to Jake, who’d been a newborn, they’d all accepted him from the moment he’d walked through the door, a scared little five-year-old. Before he’d known it, they were all tangled up in the things brothers do. Fort construction, squirrel hunting, fishing, not to mention more wrestling matches than their mother could referee.

  With that unbreakable brotherly bond, Reno just couldn’t believe that either of the two racing toward him could agree so enthusiastically with all the changes being made to the town they loved so much.

  Both horses slid to a stop—too close to call a winner—and Reno’s peaceful moment disintegrated.

  “I beat your ass,” Jackson boasted.

  Jesse tugged the Stetson down over his longish blond hair. “You’re blind. I got here a whole head in front of you.”

  Jackson turned to Reno for final confirmation.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Friendly competition, bro.”

  Jesse laughed. “Told you I won.”

  Reno shook his head, tapped Cisco’s flanks with his heels, and moved forward. “You’re both losers.”

  To his minor irritation, his brothers followed, bickering back and forth over who was the bigger badass. Reno was the oldest now, and a lot of responsibility came with the job. The position meant that once in a while he had to crack his brothers’ hard heads together and make them apologize. Luckily, tonight was not one of those moments, and, finally, they both followed him across the field in a quiet compromise.

  “Dickerson lost a heifer and calf last night,” Jesse said, as the horses set their hooves into the earth and climbed the north face of a hill heading toward Reno’s property. “He called me too late. Stubborn old coot.”

  “That’s too bad,” Jack chimed in. “You could have at least saved the calf.”

  “Yeah.” Jesse shook his head. “Sometimes, you’ve got to be smart enough to give up the old ways.”

  “Speaking of . . .” Jackson yanked off his ball cap and whacked away the dust on his pant leg.

  “Watch yourself.” Reno knew where this conversation was headed, and he had no intention of playing along.

  “What?” Jackson grinned. “I was just going to say that . . . Sweet Pickens had added a new sauce to the menu.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Don’t puss out, Jack,” Jesse said. “We already had this conversation earlier, and it had nothing to do with barbecued brisket and ribs.”

  Reno looked skyward, hoping someone would take pity and rescue him from the torture he was about to endure. Unfortunately, no lightning bolts flew from the sky, and Jackson persisted.

  “Just wasn’t looking to get my ass kicked tonight,” he said, then looked at Reno. “You see the new roof on the senior center?”

  “Yep.”

 
“Looks good.”

  “Yep.”

  “Did you check out Ms. Brooks climbing up and down that ladder all day?” Jackson asked with a grin that said he knew he’d just hit a nerve.

  “Nope.”

  “She looked pretty damned good if you ask me.”

  “Don’t recall asking.”

  “Figured you would have sent her packing by now,” Jackson said.

  “You know the old rule: Keep your friends close, your enemies closer.”

  “She’s off to a good start,” Jesse said.

  “A good start at what?” Reno pulled Cisco to a stop. “Destroying our town? Butting her nose where it doesn’t belong?”

  “Pissing you off,” Jackson said.

  “Yep,” Jesse added. “She’s doing a fine job of that.”

  “I’m askin’ her out,” Jackson declared.

  “Are you crazy?” Reno could not believe what he was hearing. “First you sabotage me by loaning her your apartment, and now you’re going to ask her out?”

  “Sorry, big brother, I didn’t know you were interested in her.”

  “I’m not.” Reno gritted his teeth.

  Jackson pulled his horse around. “You sure about that?”

  “She is pretty damned hot,” Jesse chimed in.

  “You’ve both lost your minds. She’s temporary, and she’s trouble.” Reno kicked Cisco into a gallop toward home, leaving his brothers behind. The last thing he’d ever do would be to get involved with someone who had absolutely no respect for tradition. Or even just a sense for the vibe of a place that had no need for commercialization.

  No matter how damned hot she might be.

  The closer he got to his own barn, he thought of the woman who’d be sleeping in his upstairs apartment that night wearing a skimpy pair of shorts and a barely there tank top with a pile of wild curls tangled on top of her head.

  As much as his brain denied, denied, denied, his body tightened in agreement with his brothers.

  Charli Brooks was indeed a very hot woman.

  Now all Reno had to do was find a way to put out the fire.

  Chapter 5

  “It’s nice here, isn’t it?”

  Charli jumped. Caught in the act of poking around the garden behind the house, she looked up to find a beautiful woman with a warm smile, sharp blue eyes, and a big blond hairdo walking toward her. At her side was a brown goat with a pink ribbon around its neck.

  “Hello,” Charli said, while Pumpkin chased Bear around the lawn.

  “Welcome.” The woman extended her hand, and their palms met in a firm handshake. “Jana Wilder. I spoke with you on the phone about your staying here.”

  “Oh! It’s so nice to finally meet you.” Charli smiled and looked down at the goat, which stood like a well-behaved pet. “Who’s your friend?”

  “This is Miss Giddy,” she said. “We’ve been pals since the day she was born. Her mama didn’t make it. And well, I guess with me holding her feeding bottle, she kind of figured I was a good enough replacement.”

  Miss Giddy bleated out a welcome that made Charli laugh. “Can I pet her?”

  “Oh sure. She’s a friendly sort.”

  Charli reached out, then pulled back when the goat nudged her hand with its horns.

  “Don’t be afraid,” Jana said. “That’s just the way she says howdy. She’s a cashmere.”

  “Like the sweater?” Charli petted the animal’s long neck.

  “Exactly. When my husband was alive, we had a small herd. But after he died, it became too much to work the cattle and keep up with combing the goats too. So we sold them. I just didn’t have the heart to send Miss Giddy away.”

  “She’s very sweet,” Charli said, then laughed when the goat nodded in agreement.

  “So . . . you like my son’s garden?”

  “It’s lovely.” Charli joined Jana Wilder on a stroll through the gravel paths between raised beds in the garden behind her landlord’s home. “I’ve always dreamed of having one just like this.”

  Jana looked up. “What stopped you from making it happen?”

  Charli leaned down and tested the ripeness of a Roma tomato. “My father is career military. We moved a lot.”

  “Really? What branch?”

  “Marines. He’s a lieutenant general.”

  “Impressive. All my five boys have served in the Marines, with various ranks,” Mrs. Wilder said with pride. “My youngest, Jake, has just been promoted to staff sergeant. He’s still deployed to Afghanistan. We lost our oldest in the Helmand Province. Just outside Camp Leatherneck.”

  A chill ran down Charli’s back. She knew Camp Leatherneck—the largest Marine base in Afghanistan—and she knew better than to ask what had happened. The area was known to be riddled with IEDs and Taliban fighters. If someone wanted to talk of their loved one, she always held the door open. But for some it was just too painful. She’d seen countless families lose a loved one to the war. She knew the pain of loss and the slow process to heal.

  In Charli’s mind, the eldest Wilder son was a brave young man who had enlisted, fought, and died in the name of freedom. People had loved him. People missed him. And in the hearts of America, he was and would always be a hero.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss.” Without knowing much at all about Jana Wilder, Charli hugged her. She was not at all surprised when the woman hugged her back. For several breaths, they remained in a quiet embrace before Charli leaned away and said, “You must be very proud of him.”

  “Jared.” Jana Wilder smiled and nodded. “He is—was—a special boy. Always challenging the others to step it up. Do a better job. Take a bigger challenge. He and Reno were the closest in age. They shared a room and were inseparable.” She sighed. “I know Reno still blames himself for not being assigned to the same operation. He believes he could have saved his brother had he been there. Most likely, I’d have lost them both.”

  A mother’s nightmare times two.

  “Reno can be a bit sullen.” Her slow Southern drawl flowed smooth as butter. Though Charli could imagine that with five sons, the woman had learned to raise that drawl into a meaningful threat. “I’m sure you’ve seen that in him already. Jackson and Jesse think they can tease it out of him. But it will have to be something else. Something completely unexpected.”

  Reno. So that was his name. Charli couldn’t help but picture that devastatingly handsome face and wonder where he’d gotten such a unique moniker when it appeared that the rest of his family all had names that began with J.

  “All my boys have grown up to make me proud. Reno just needs to learn to laugh again. And I . . .” She gave a twist to a large zucchini until the stem snapped. “Try to shake up his somber little world every chance I get.”

  “Well, that would explain offering the use of the apartment to me.”

  “Oh yeah.” Jana chuckled. “He wasn’t happy about that.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Jana’s smile brightened. “I would have warned y’all, but his bark is worse than his bite.”

  Charli wasn’t so sure.

  “Now this is going to make a tasty meal.” The older woman held up the huge vegetable. “Ever had stuffed zucchini?”

  “I can’t say that I have.”

  With a wink, Jana said, “Then you come by tomorrow night for dinner.”

  “Oh. Well thank you, but I’m not sure what time we’ll be done working on the senior center so—”

  “Tastes just as good heated up. If you can’t make it, I’ll send some home with Reno for you.”

  Charli smiled. “I’d appreciate that.” But from the intimidating looks the grumpy Mr. Wilder pointed in her direction, she’d be smart to give it a poison test first.

  Later that evening, Charli discovered a new love that had nothing to do with the male persuasion and everything to do with the Adirondack chair she’d settled into on Reno Wilder’s back veranda. The glass of locally made zinfandel and Texas twilight added to her love affair. Entertain
ment came from the very vocal and territorial hummingbirds battling for dominance over the multiple feeders that hung from the patio roof.

  With the man of the house out of the vicinity, she allowed herself to relax. She kicked her feet up onto the matching footstool, let out a long sigh, and chuckled as Pumpkin, exhausted from playing with Bear, collapsed on the lawn and passed out. Charli sipped her wine and listened to the orchestra of the crickets hidden in the surrounding trees and grass.

  She’d enjoyed her conversation with Jana Wilder, and she’d learned a lot about the Wilder family without even asking. One thing she’d learned during the weeks she’d spent rejuvenating the small towns of America was how easy it was to become immersed in people’s lives. She learned to like them, care about them, and she wanted to continue her newfound relationships. At the end of the projects, when she had to climb back up into the Hummer and drive out of town, she always left with an overdose of melancholy.

  Always on the move.

  She’d never wanted to live a vagabond life, but that’s exactly what had happened. One of these days—just like she’d promised herself—she’d stop somewhere and stay put.

  With a glance up at the stars emerging from the darkening sky, she realized Sweet was the exact type of place she’d like to stay. Open up shop. Start a new life. Plant some roots and never have to worry about being the new girl again.

  She settled back into the chair a little more and sighed. Yep. Planting some deep roots sounded really nice.

  In the distance, the soft thud of hooves came closer. She searched the now-barely-visible meadow. Probably one of the cows—whom she’d discovered are curious animals—coming up to take a look. Instead, the shadowy outline of a horse appeared out of the darkness with its rider sitting tall in the saddle. The sound of a gate on rusty hinges creaked open, then slammed shut. When the hooves clip-clopped across the gravel drive, Charli got up from her comfy chair to investigate.

  By the time she reached the barn, the rider had settled the horse near the stalls. He took a deep breath, which expanded the broad shoulders of plaid shirtsleeves rolled to the elbows above muscular forearms. He tipped the straw hat back on his head, swung a long leg over the saddle, and stepped down to the ground. His spurs jangled.