The most reviled man in Sweetgrass Springs, Tank Patton lives on the razor’s edge of control, locked down and solitary by choice, keeping himself apart the only way he knows to avoid the legacy of violence handed down from his father. When he meets a young mother in dire straits, he gives her and her winsome children the immediate help they need, intending to give her wide berth from then on.
Chrissy Daniels desperately hopes she can make a new life for herself and her children in Sweetgrass Springs, and that means being strong and self-reliant, no more leaning on men who are losers or worse—yet she finds herself touched by the bone-deep loneliness she senses in the man everyone has warned her is a brute and not to be trusted.
Despite his intentions, Tank finds himself drawn back to Chrissy’s warmth and the sweetness of her children, yet he knows that to truly care for them means keeping his distance. Chrissy battles her long history of choosing men unwisely, yet she finds herself unable to turn away from this man she’s beginning to suspect is more decent than anyone believes—including Tank himself.
But can a man who’s never trusted anyone and a woman who’s trusted all the wrong men defy the odds and open their hearts to each other?
Texas Strong
A Sweetgrass Springs Story
Jean Brashear
Copyright © 2016 Jean Brashear
Nook Edition
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A portion of this story originally appeared in the novella Our Day, published by Harlequin 2008. Revised for this book © 2016 Jean Brashear
Dedication
To every one of you who has asked for Tank’s story, thanks for the encouragement. The prospect of writing him scared me half to death, but as the days went on, I found that this much-reviled character touched my heart in unexpected ways, and I will never forget him. I hope you’ll feel that I did justice to his struggles to be a good man when he had to find the way all on his own.
And, as with every word I write, this book is for Ercel, whose support and love never wavers.
Table of Contents
Cover
About Texas Strong
The Texas Heroes Series
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgments
The Families of Sweetgrass Springs
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Epilogue
Entire Texas Heroes Series
Excerpt from Texas Secrets
Excerpt from Texas Refuge
Excerpt from Texas Roots
Excerpt from Texas Ties
Excerpt from Texas Hope
Other Titles by Jean Brashear
About the Author
Connect With Jean
Acknowledgments
Many thanks to Danny Mickan, who not only keeps my car in top shape but also graciously spent a great deal of time helping me choose a vehicle for Chrissy, coming up with a needed repair which Tank could fix—and explaining all the steps to making that repair. You’re the best, Danny! (PS Any errors made or liberties taken in the story are all on me)
Much gratitude to Jan Kaplan, both for her eagle eye and for expressing a wish we’re both glad I was able to fulfill.
For those few of you who might have read my long-ago novella Our Day, now reclaimed from my former publisher, you may recognize bits of Jake and Laura, who is the new waitress Chrissy’s sister. I hope you’ll enjoy how Jake and Laura find their way to the magic that is Sweetgrass Springs!
Chapter One
“Mornin’, y’all. It’s another beautiful day in Sweetgrass Springs,” said Harley Sykes on the town’s new—and only—radio station. “Arnie here and me been thinking that it’s been way too long since we had a Community Work Day, haven’t we, bud?”
Much less inclined to seek the spotlight than his friend, Arnie Howard only replied, “Yep.”
“So we know you all are gonna be just as excited as we are that we’ll be having one next Saturday and Sunday—after church on Sunday, mind you, ’cause my Melba will tear me a new one if I wasn’t to mention that.”
In Ruby’s Diner, veteran waitress Jeanette Carson snickered and shook her head. “And Lord knows she will do it, too,” she remarked to the owner of the place, Ruby Gallagher Howard.
“He gives her so many reasons,” Ruby concurred as they tuned back in.
“Y’all know all about the near-tragedy that happened here recently, when our very own Scarlett Ross McLaren, wife of a man we all admire, Ian McLaren, and granddaughter of Ruby Gallagher Howard, nearly lost their baby and died herself. That’s only one reminder of how much Sweetgrass needs some sort of medical establishment. Bridger Calhoun, former Navy SEAL medic and our very own fire chief, has been busting his butt to provide healthcare for the town, but he needs better facilities than carrying around all his supplies in his truck or stashing them in the fire station he created out of Swede’s abandoned mechanic shop, right, Arnie?”
A pause. Finally, “Yep.”
Ruby chuckled and shook her head. Her husband of one year was not a wordy man.
“That’s just exactly right,” Harley continued, never at a loss for words. “So our resident tycoon, Jackson Gallagher, who, I might add, fronted the money for the fire station while he, Bridger and their friends did the renovation work, has volunteered to supply a clinic with the necessary equipment so that Bridger can take care of all but the most serious cases. Understandably, Bridger would like to have everything finished before Ian brings Scarlett and their baby home. Jackson offered to get it done, but folks, even if Jackson could get work crews here in time, I know all of you think like me, that we’re a town that does for itself. The foundation is poured and the framing has begun. It’s time for all of us to pitch in, and Lord knows there are plenty of us with experience building barns and homes. Shoot, didn’t we all work together to remodel the courthouse last fall, Arnie?”
“Yep.”
“Darn right we did. So here’s the plan, folks. We’ll all meet up at the fire station just off the Square bright and early Saturday morning, bringing the tools each of us has. I can’t think of a better way to spend a weekend, can you? Ian will soon, we all purely hope, be bringing home Scarlett and little Georgia Sophia, named after their two mothers. Now that little baby was born a little too early, but she’s gonna be just fine, folks, lest you was worrying. Nonetheless, her mama and daddy need to know that they don’t have to make a long trip over to Fredericksburg or even all the way back to Austin if she needs a little extra care. No offense to the hospitals there, but in Sweetgrass, we like to take care of our own as much as possible.
“So you all know the drill—Bridger and his crew will be barbecuing, and everybody else bring a dish. We’ll all grab our tool belts and our aprons and work gloves and get to building. Oh, and my Melba and the rest of t
he quilters are bringing desserts, which I dearly hope means that Joyce Walden is making a big batch of her famous double chocolate oatmeal cookies and Earlene Dorsa will be providing her very fine lemon squares. My Melba, of course, will be making her world-famous pound cake, I am pretty sure. That all by itself is reason enough to show up, I know you agree. If you have any questions, why you just call right in to our show, and Arnie and me here will answer each and every one of your questions, won’t we, Arnie?”
Jeanette could swear everyone in the diner held a breath waiting for Arnie’s Yep.
But he surprised all of them. “We sure will.”
“Wow,” said Mackey, one of Ian’s oldest friends and Bridger’s fellow SEALs. “Hope Arnie didn’t hurt anything, getting all chatty like that.”
Grins and chuckles filled the room.
“You gonna be closed that weekend, Ruby?” someone asked.
“I’m gonna be over at the fire station keeping an eye on you, Raymond Benefield.”
Laughter rolled through the diner, and another day in Sweetgrass Springs was underway.
“Seriously, Josh Marshall will be at the work day? Movie star Josh Marshall?” Ruby’s new waitress Chrissy Daniels asked young waitress Brenda Jones. “Getting s hands dirty with, I don’t know, carpentry and stuff?” She fanned herself. “Getting…sweaty?”
“I know, right?” Brenda straightened one of the small flower arrangements she brought in after the days she worked at Veronica Gallagher’s flower farm. “I thought I’d faint the first time he walked into the cafe. He’s really nice, though, and down to earth.” She gave a nervous glance toward Jeanette. “His older brother is even more handsome, if you can imagine.”
Chrissy blinked. “Um…no. That can’t be possible.” She, too, glanced over, then filled another napkin holder as they set up for the supper rush. She’d been a waitress enough years to understand about pecking orders. Jeanette was top of the heap, and right now she felt extra vigilant because Scarlett was still in the hospital and Ruby wasn’t young.
The bell over the door rang, and someone walked in, a big man, tall and broad, with a badge on his shirt.
Brenda stiffened, just a little, and Chrissy couldn’t help wondering why.
He wasn’t strictly handsome, she thought. He had a rough edge to him, a rugged cast to his features. He didn’t look like a happy person, either. Around him was a sort of force field, an invisible barrier separating him from every else.
He looked like the loneliest man on earth. Not that his features betrayed him; his face was stone still, set in lines of authority and rigid control. But in his eyes, she caught a shadow…a hunger, barricaded almost immediately by what she thought of as iron doors rolling down, landing with a sharp thud.
Chrissy glanced about her, but everyone she saw was moving along in normal fashion, as though nothing had happened. Some appeared uneasy, others studiously ignored him as he stood like a tall, broad oak in their midst. But everyone else left him alone, so alone that her feet were moving before she thought.
Her movement snagged his immediate attention. Blue eyes regarded her as if from behind a sheet of glass.
But a spark of curiosity flared.
“Would you like to sit?” she asked, clutching her ordering pad. Up close, he was even more dominating, and inside she jittered. “Or are you here to meet someone?”
Bitter amusement flared for a second. “You’re new.”
His voice could be hard, she thought, and intimidating, but she heard the edge of resignation in it.
“I am. My name is Chrissy Daniels. Do you come here often, Sheriff?” The star on his chest gleamed.
“Deputy Sheriff. And no, not any more often than I have to.”
Her eyes widened. “But the food is great, and everybody loves Ruby and Scarlett.”
A corner of his mouth turned up, and she thought he might have a great smile if he ever chose to use it. Somehow the tension around her made her think he didn’t use it much.
“You really are new to town.”
She frowned, wondering what he meant. Her lips parted to ask.
“Tank, stop glaring at my new waitress and come get your food,” Jeanette barked.
“He wasn’t—” Chrissy began.
His large, rough palm gripped her arm for one brief second. “Don’t bother defending me. It won’t help.” Just as quickly his touch was gone, then he was gone, moving across the room with a surprising grace for such a big man.
She watched him go, torn by the urge to stop him, to ask what he meant, to make someone explain why, in a town that had been nothing but welcoming, this man was all but shunned. She didn’t understand, but she didn’t want to rock the boat. She needed this job. Wanted more every day to belong to this place.
So she said nothing as she watched him go, her own palm clasped over her skin where he’d touched her. Where his loneliness was a fine powdered residue over her own.
“You’d be wise to steer clear of him,” Jeanette said after he left.
“Who is he?”
“Tank Patton. He’s Veronica Gallagher’s brother and mostly covers Sweetgrass and this eastern half of the county.”
“Veronica’s really nice.”
“They’re nothing alike.”
Chrissy frowned, but before she could ask more, the door opened again, and a small, curvy blonde dressed in the very latest fashions stepped inside. “There you are—” the blonde said, pointing at Jeanette. “I have a bone to pick with you. Why haven’t you returned my calls?”
“Because it’s a crazy idea,” Jeanette said. “And I’m busy. Some of us have to work for a living.”
Click-clack, click-clack, the blonde’s sky-high mules beat a tattoo on the floor as she steamed over. “I am a busy woman, and I don’t have time to fly from L.A. to shake some sense into you. I hand you an opportunity to change your whole life by making a gown that would be worn in Cannes, and you don’t even call me back?”
Chrissy blinked and glanced at Brenda. “What?” she asked quietly.
“Jeanette is a genius with a sewing machine,” Brenda whispered. “She doesn’t get much chance to wear her garments here, but she made Scarlett’s wedding gown and Ruby’s, too. They were both stunning.”
Jeanette shrugged and tried to turn away, but the blonde was having none of it.
“Who is she? Are she and Jeanette friends?”
“Not really. Hayley isn’t from here. She knew Mackey in Hollywood. She stages really high-end property in L.A., and she even has her own TV show. She saw the wedding gowns Jeanette made for Ruby and Scarlett, and she wants Jeanette to move to L.A.”
“Why?”
“Jeanette truly has a gift.”
“So why is she waiting tables?”
“The question of the century. Best I can tell, she’s been in Sweetgrass so long she’s grown roots halfway to China.”
“Isn’t she needed here?” Chrissy asked. “Especially now? Ruby and Scarlett really depend on her, don’t they?”
“They do, but—” Brenda hesitated.
“What?”
“Jeanette had a big crush on Ian before Scarlett showed up.”
“Seriously?” Not that Ian McLaren wasn’t scorching hot. But he was so clearly married, wrapped up in Scarlett to an extent that he didn’t notice other women.
“Ian never seemed to realize it. But I think being here is hard for Jeanette. Ruby told me that Jeanette wanted to leave Sweetgrass after high school, but her parents needed her, and by the time they were gone, she didn’t know how to leave, I guess.”
Ruby spoke up from the kitchen. “Chrissy, your order is up.”
Chrissy moved into action. Her path took her alongside where Hayley had drawn Jeanette away from the tables.
“You could be designing Emmy gowns, Oscar ones, too, one day,” Hayley insisted. “I got you this job, I can get you more. It will all build from there. Or you could work with me styling homes. You have a fabulous eye, Jeanette, and you
’re wasting your life in this podunk town.”
As Chrissy passed, she saw emotions warring on Jeanette’s face, longing mingled with caution.
She couldn’t imagine why the decision wasn’t already made. If she didn’t have two kids to support, she’d jump on an offer like that.
Sweetgrass, however, was perfect for her. Just this morning, Ruby had told her that her husband Arnie was willing to rent her his former home, now vacant since he’d moved into Ruby’s big old home behind the cafe. Ruby swore it would be affordable, and Chrissy didn’t want to get her hopes up, but she could hardly wait to get off work to go look at it. The more she experienced Sweetgrass Springs, the more she believed that her children would thrive here, and she felt as if she’d at last drawn a deep, cleansing breath, knowing they could be safe in this town that was already taking her to its collective heart. Then when Ruby’s Dream, Scarlett’s high-end restaurant, finally opened, Chrissy stood to make some really good money if it panned out as envisioned. Maybe one day she’d be able to at last buy them a little house that would be their own.
Chrissy owed Spike Ridley, the Goth pastry chef she’d met when she was pricing a tattoo in Austin. It was Spike who’d convinced her to check out this little town.
For so long, her luck had been the wrong kind, from terrible taste in men to never completing her education. Of course, one of those lousy choices in companions had fathered the two children who were her life.
But she wanted more for them, wanted so very much she’d been afraid she could never provide. Her sister Laura was married to a surgeon and was always trying to help, but Chrissy had her pride. Laura had practically raised her, and Chrissy wanted, more than anything, to make both her children and her sister proud of her.
Maybe at last her luck had turned.
Chapter Two
Bridger Calhoun was more thankful than ever that he’d convinced Legs to live in Sweetgrass Springs. Yes, he’d said he’d go with her if her life as a big-city lawyer was crucial to Penny’s well-being. He’d even meant it.
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