Texas Strong

by Jean Brashear

Mostly.

  But as he strode out of the parking garage and across the street to the Austin hospital that would hold all the inhabitants of Sweetgrass several times over, he knew he could never be happy in a big, crowded city. He was a country boy and proud of it. He’d done all the traveling he wanted while in the SEAL Teams. He’d sampled the world’s high points and darkest valleys, seen the spectrum of what humans could do to one another.

  Give him the peace of Sweetgrass any day.

  Peace. Inwardly he snickered. Yes, it was a tiny burg, though growing more swiftly all the time, but it was never, ever boring. Sweetgrass possessed more than its own share of eccentrics.

  He’d built his woman a home of their own, he’d watched her thrive as chief operating officer of her twin Jackson’s video game empire, had built a volunteer fire department he was proud of—and to put the cherry on top of the sundae, the love of his life was pregnant with his baby.

  He’d spent so much of his life alone, separated from his siblings after their father had killed their mother and then himself. He couldn’t wait to be a dad. To make a family with his long-legged Penelope.

  The only fly in the ointment was his role as the sole medical care in town. Yes, he was a former SEAL medic, trained and certified as a paramedic, as well. He gave the citizens of Sweetgrass the best medical care he could, and he knew his best was damn good.

  But just under two weeks ago, a medical nightmare had unfolded. Scarlett McLaren had gone into premature labor and nearly bled out before she could deliver. He’d battled with everything he had, but the truth was that if Penny’s brother hadn’t owned a helicopter and gotten her to this Level One Trauma Center in time, both of them would have died, all Bridger’s fighting for their lives notwithstanding.

  He needed help. His newly-located sister Molly was an OB/GYN resident in Chicago, but she wouldn’t be ready for another year. Sweetgrass was too far from the nearest hospital, and though Jackson had committed his resources to building a clinic with all the bells and whistles Bridger could want, Bridger was only one man, and he was not a doctor. He was getting physician’s assistant certification in his spare time, but—

  Spare time. Hah. He had none, and when his own child was born, he wanted to be there, hands-on. Between being fire chief and the town’s only medical professional…there wasn’t enough of him to go around.

  But that was a problem for another day.

  Right now he was here to consult with the NICU nurses. Scarlett and baby Georgia would be released soon, and he wanted to be sure he had the equipment he needed, in case Georgia required more than normal newborn care. He’d been reading up, but he wanted to talk to those who did the work every day.

  Scarlett’s situation had been unusual, but his sister-in-law Rissa would deliver in seven months, and his Penny in eight. He hoped each would have a normal delivery in the hospital, just as Scarlett had planned for herself.

  But life had taught him that planning could go out the window any second, and he was taking no chances.

  Two hours later, after dogging the steps of the doctors and nurses in the NICU and paying Scarlett, Ian and Georgia a visit, his head was whirling with ideas and lists. Some people would be unnerved by all that could potentially go wrong with a delivery, but after first Maddie Gallagher’s surprise giving birth the night of his own wedding, then Scarlett scaring the life out of everyone, Bridger wasn’t one of them.

  The SEAL motto The only easy day was yesterday was still his mantra. He believed in being prepared for every possible eventuality—which was one reason he had mentioned to the staff upstairs that he had funding for a new clinic, just in case anyone was ready for a change of pace.

  And the same reason was why he was headed to the ER where he’d already learned that Jake Cameron, the doc who’d seen Scarlett when the band of them came crashing through on that chaotic night, was on duty today.

  He’d spread the word here, too. Babies weren’t the only emergencies he dealt with. ER docs had to have cool heads, just like SEALs, and they had to be ready for anything. Sweetgrass was a nest of constant surprises. Sure, maybe no one here would be interested, but no one could say yes if he didn’t ask the question.

  He stopped by the reception area and introduced himself. Asked if he could see Jake for a moment when he had a break. The daytime staff wasn’t impressed, but he had a stroke of luck when the barred doors opened and one of the nurses recognized him, even if she didn’t remember his name. There had been no time for pleasantries that night, but there were some advantages to being six and a half feet tall.

  “Jake just finished up with a patient. Come on in, and I’ll grab him.”

  Bridger was careful to thank the receptionist first—you never wanted to tick off the first line of defense—then he followed.

  Soon Jake appeared, looking like ten miles of bad road.

  Been there, Bridger thought, and with a smile, extended his hand. “Bridger Calhoun. I brought in the woman with placenta previa ten days ago. I just wanted to thank you again for all you did.”

  Jake returned the handshake. “Yeah—half your town showed up not long after, right?”

  Bridger grinned. “A sizable delegation, that’s for sure. Folks are more than neighbors in Sweetgrass.”

  “So how are they doing, the mother and little girl? I keep thinking I’m going to follow up, but—”

  “I hear you. Paramedics don’t often get the end of the story, either. They’re both doing well. Eager to go home, though it may be a while. That’s another reason why I’m here. I wanted to get equipment recommendations from the NICU.”

  Jake frowned. “I thought there wasn’t a hospital close.”

  “There’s not. But I’m putting together a clinic, and Sweetgrass has a guardian angel who wants to stock it state of the art.”

  Jake’s brows flew upward. “That’s unusual.”

  “Yeah, not every town has a video game tycoon as a resident benefactor.” He took in the lines of fatigue on Jake’s face. “Look, I won’t keep you. You look whacked.”

  Jake rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah…the shifts are starting to run together.”

  “Sweetgrass could use someone like you, if you ever get tired of the rat race. And didn’t you tell us your sister-in-law had just gone to work at Ruby’s?”

  Jake nodded. “Chrissy, my wife’s younger sister. You’ve met her?”

  Bridger shook his head. “I’ve seen her, but business is too good at Ruby’s with all of Jackson’s geeks moving in, plus they’re shorthanded without Scarlett.”

  “Jackson’s geeks?”

  “My brother-in-law. He owns Enigma Games out of Seattle, but he moved back last year and has set up headquarters in Sweetgrass. Some of his game designers and such have relocated.”

  “Tech geeks in a tiny Texas town.” Jake shook his head. “With no Starbucks, right? A little culture shock?”

  Bridger grinned. “You have no idea.”

  “Wait—Enigma Games. That’s Doom Star and Lone Assassin, right?”

  Bridger nodded.

  Jake whistled. “My sons spent half their lives in front of the game console playing those. Battled them a few times myself. Good stuff.” He shook his head. “Can’t wrap my mind around those being created in a little Texas burg.”

  “Jackson has a family now, and he wants to raise them there. Sweetgrass might surprise you. You and your wife should come visit sometime. My wife was a hotshot lawyer in D.C. and lives there now, and another brother-in-law was a big Hollywood stuntman who trains horses for the movies mostly in Sweetgrass these days. Plus we get visits from folks like Josh Marshall and Walker Roundtree.”

  “The country music star? And wasn’t Marshall—”

  “Sexiest Man Alive? Yeah. Though we don’t talk about that stuff in Sweetgrass. They’re just part of the community. They do put their pants on one leg at a time, you know.”

  “Sweetgrass Springs is a surprise. Laura has been wanting to go check out where her sis
ter is working, anyway. Chrissy’s hoping to move to Sweetgrass, I hear. Right now she and her two kids still live in Austin.”

  “I think she’s moving into Arnie’s house.”

  Jake frowned. “Who’s Arnie? Chrissy doesn’t need any more man trouble.”

  Bridger chuckled. “Arnie is in his seventies. He’s Ruby’s husband—at last. He proposed for nearly twenty years.”

  Jake blinked. “Sounds like a story there.”

  “Yeah. Sweetgrass is full of them. Anyway, Arnie gave up on getting Ruby to move to his place, so he’s living with her in her big old house behind the cafe, a family home she manages regularly to fill with every stray she can lay hands on. From what my wife tells me, they’ve managed to convince Chrissy she’d be doing Arnie a favor to take care of his house for him, and that way she has a place to move her kids into.”

  “Really? That sounds odd for Chrissy. We do what we can, but she’s resistant to accepting help. She’s a sweetheart, and that no-good ex of hers gives her no help, only trouble.” He hesitated. “Sweetgrass does sound like a place we need to check out. Is there a hotel where we could stay if Chrissy doesn’t have room?”

  “There’s one B&B just opened, and Jackson’s working on more accommodations, since some of his employees rotate in and out from Seattle.”

  “Give me your number, and if I ever get two days off in a row again, we’ll come check out the town.”

  “Big city ER is a tough game,” Bridger sympathized.

  “Yeah. Most of the time I love it, but—”

  “I was a SEAL, then a big city firefighter and paramedic. I get the adrenaline rush. Wears on you, though.”

  The doctor’s eyes spoke of his weariness. “It takes a toll, for sure.” A frown crossed his features. “In more ways than one.”

  Bridger started to ask, to push his case while Jake was susceptible, but he understood the allure of the adrenaline junkie’s life. He’d been ready for the change of pace, but you couldn’t force that on someone else. “Well, I’m keeping you standing when you probably need to be horizontal. Gotta grab those combat naps when you can, right?”

  “Right.” Chagrin clouded Jake’s features as he pulled out his phone. “Give me your number before you go, though.”

  Bridger complied, thanked him again and left, hoping he’d sown enough seeds to reap a good harvest down the road.

  Chrissy walked once more through the furnished home that was too much a dream come true.

  “Mom, can this be my room?” asked her six-year-old son Thad, staring in wonder. “It’s so big!”

  The bedroom wasn’t large at all, but Thad had never had a room of his own. Most often, she’d only been able to afford a one-bedroom apartment where she’d slept on the sofa to allow the kids to have the bedroom.

  “I think that would be fine. Have you picked out your room, Becky?” There were two rooms left besides the master, one a sewing room for his long-dead wife, Arnie had told her. The sewing machine was still there, and Chrissy itched to use it. She could make new clothes for all of them—but she wouldn’t dare ask.

  “I like this one,” eight-year-old Becky said softly. “If you don’t want it.” The room had white Priscilla curtains with sunny yellow daisies along the hem. The double bed with its matching bedspread would allow Becky to have a friend spend the night.

  Oh, please let them make friends here. Please let this town become our home.

  That was really too much to expect, she knew, but everyone had been so kind in Sweetgrass. Her eyes filled as her daughter’s obvious longing tugged at her heart. “I think it’s perfect for you, sweetheart.” She brushed one hand over Becky’s dark curls.

  “We really get to live in a whole house, Mommy?” Becky asked, brown eyes wide.

  Darren Daniels, if you hadn’t given me the two best things in my life, I would hate you for all you’ve cost us.

  But she did have these two beautiful children, though she grieved for the father who ignored them, who’d never paid one cent of child support. Who did worse when he drank.

  Good riddance. She didn’t need his anger or his money or his terrible taste in friends, much less his insistence on looking for the easy way out. If she could eject him from their lives forever, she would gladly work as many jobs as required to ensure their welfare. As it was, she simply prayed to be ignored as much as possible.

  “We do, sweetie. Mr. Howard has asked us to take care of it for him, now that he’s moved to Ruby’s home.”

  “I like Ruby.” Thad smiled with his two front teeth missing. “She says I’ll grow big on her cooking. She makes really good meat loaf.”

  Her own meals were included when she was working, but she couldn’t afford for them to eat out often otherwise. She didn’t have Ruby’s gift with food or her sister Laura’s, for that matter, but she was careful on her limited budget to provide food that was both nourishing and inexpensive.

  Laura had been trying to pass on her innate sense for delicious meals since Laura was a teenager and Chrissy in elementary school. They’d shared a mother but had different dads. Their mom and Laura’s dad had divorced, then their mom had met Chrissy’s dad. Chrissy had been born when Laura was twelve. From the earliest days, Laura had been as much mother as sister to her after their mom died and her dad had remarried and moved away. Laura’s role continued to this day.

  “We can treat ourselves to a meal at the cafe now and again. I don’t blame you for wanting to—Ruby’s an even better cook than Laura.”

  “Nobody’s a better cook than Aunt Laura!” they chimed.

  Chrissy lifted her hands. “I stand corrected. So…you like the house?”

  “It’s the best!” cried Thad.

  “I like it,” Becky said shyly. “I’m glad we get to switch schools now and move to Sweetgrass Springs.”

  Chrissy had debated long and painfully over the best thing to do: allow them to finish the semester at their old school in Austin or give them a chance to meet other kids in Sweetgrass before the summer began. Laura had made the point that summer could be a hard time to make new friends and this way, the first day of school in the fall wouldn’t be so scary, since they wouldn’t have had all summer to worry over it.

  The offer from Ruby and Arnie had been a godsend, one she couldn’t afford to pass up, but she was determined to set aside part of her earnings each month to give to Arnie for rent, even though all he’d asked for her to do was to cover the utilities.

  She paid her own way, always had. She might have had to depend a lot on thrift store clothes and sewing for her kids, she might have driven her car until it was barely holding together, but she would never be dependent on another man.

  Not unless her brother-in-law Jake had a twin they didn’t know about. Jake was the best man she’d ever met, a wonderful combination of big brother and father figure. Sure, she’d had a crush on him since the day Laura had brought him to meet her, but it was a harmless crush. Her sister had been there for her all through her life, and she couldn’t be happier that Laura and Jake were such a rock-solid couple, even after raising three children.

  If, now and again, Chrissy’s heart ached to have her own love story, well, she’d tried that, hadn’t she? She was a terrible judge of men, and that was that. She had her two angels, she had a chance at a new life—that was more than she’d ever expected to have.

  “Speaking of food, shall we go back to the cafe and tell Mr. Howard we love his house?”

  “Yes!” her children cried, and raced outside.

  Chrissy followed, only to see them struck silent as a big man towered over them. Deputy Patton. As she closed the door, his gaze lifted to her.

  “Mom?” said Thad, sounding very small. “Are we in trouble?”

  “Of course not. We’re not doing anything wrong,” she answered, speaking as much to the big man in the cowboy hat with the gun on his hip and the badge on his shirt. “Right, Deputy?”

  “Arnie knows you’re here?” Tank asked.


  “He’s letting us move in.” She’d been predisposed to give him the benefit of the doubt earlier, but he looked so fierce now, and her children were frightened. She stepped between them and him. “Is there a problem?”

  His gaze arrowed in on her. “I guess not. It’s part of my job.”

  “Frightening small children?” He might be fearsomely big, but no one harmed her kids. Not ever again. Maybe she’d been wrong about this man, too. Seen only what she wanted to see.

  Then there it was again, that deep loneliness. Blue eyes locked on hers. “No. I don’t want them afraid of me.” In a surprising move, he stepped around her and hunkered down before her kids. “I’m Deputy Sheriff Patton. You’re not in trouble. I was only trying to protect Mr. Howard’s property. It’s been vacant for awhile.” His voice was rusty, as if he didn’t speak to anyone often.

  Even crouched on the heels of his boots, he towered over Thad, and Becky was at his eye level. “We haven’t been introduced.”

  Thad stuck out his hand, ever the adventurer. “I’m Thad Daniels.”

  “That short for Theodore?” the man asked.

  “Yeah. I mean, yes sir.”

  “Fine manners, son. People call me Tank, but Theodore is my name, too. Pleased to meet you, Thad.”

  “Theodore, really?” Thad frowned. “I never met another Theodore. So why do they call you Tank? ’Cause you’re so huge, like an army tank?”

  “Thad!” Chrissy chided.

  But to her amazement, a surprisingly beautiful smile cracked Tank’s face. “Pretty much.” He glanced up at her from under the brim of his hat. “It’s okay.”

  With light in those blue eyes and a smile curving his lips, he went far beyond rugged and into downright handsome. She couldn’t help smiling back. “Thad isn’t likely to be a diplomat when he grows up.”

  Tank turned back to her son. “I admire a man who speaks his mind. Too many people talk out of both sides of their mouths.”

  Thad’s forehead wrinkled. “How can you do that? Is the middle closed and the two sides…” He attempted to demonstrate.

  “Thad…” Becky rolled her eyes.