As she got older and began to understand the workings of a relationship between a man and a woman, Mandy began to view her summer trips to Texas as time for her parents to rebuild whatever was breaking down in their marriage. She stopped resenting them for sending her away and even began looking forward to her summers at the Double T.
Mandy closed her eyes and tried to squash the foreboding feeling building up inside her. She glanced at Beau, who had surprised her by giving her some "space" during the long ride to collect herself.
He'd surprised her by asking why she hadn't returned to Texas. He'd known and said as much at the airport. But she hadn't answered him. Why hadn't she? She could have told him that she was busy going to college, making a career for herself. It was true to a certain point. She didn't have to tell him that the real reason was that she feared running into him again. After all, his family did own the adjoining spread, and if she spent any time outside the Double T, there was a strong possibility she'd bump into him if he’d been home from the road.
Or she could have simply told Beau that she'd moved on with her life just as easily as he had when he rode out of Texas without her. Looking at him now, feeling the dull ache in her heart build with each passing second, she knew that wasn't true. Beau would see right through any attempt to state otherwise.
Nerves brewed in her stomach as they pulled into the driveway of the Double T Ranch. Things hadn't changed much since the last time she’d been there. The outbuildings that had once seemed so enormous to Mandy as a child looked smaller, fragile even, and in need of some repair. The two-story farmhouse had some peeling paint on the front porch soffits. But other than that, it looked as inviting as it always had with its brick walkway, and hanging flower baskets lining the wrap-around porch. The wicker rocking chairs that had once filled the front porch had been replaced by a wide porch swing and a wooden glider built for two.
Before the truck rolled to a stop in front of the main house Uncle Hank had thrown open the screen door and planted himself on the top porch step, holding his arms wide open for her. His smile was so bright, it made her chest ache.
Mandy couldn't help herself. With the weight of tears burning her eyes, she bolted from the cab and launched herself up the porch steps into Hank's arms. Hank folded her into a tight embrace and kissed her forehead.
"Oh, pretty little lady, I've missed you," he said.
"I'm sorry I haven't been to visit for a while," she started to say, but he waved her off.
"We'll have none of that. I'm just tickled to see you now. Come on in. Corrine is in the studio, but she told me to get her the second you arrived."
Mandy started to turn back to the truck. "I need to get my bags."
"I'll bring them in," Beau called out. "Just go say your hellos."
Arm in arm they walked through the narrow hallway leading to a small addition built on the back of the farmhouse. Aunt Corrine was an artist. It didn't matter what kind you called her. She created art in all shapes, sizes and mediums depending on which way the muse struck her, or what supplies were on sale at the craft store. Uncle Hank liked to encourage her creativity, saying if digging her hands in clay or plaster was enough to keep a sophisticated woman like Corrine by his side on a small Texas ranch, it was okay by him.
"Is she still working on aluminum sculptures?" Mandy asked quietly before they reached the studio.
"Nope. She's painting now. Calls them oils and uses her hands instead of brushes. Says it gives her more control. But I tell you true, it all ends up looking like finger painting to me," he said, chuckling.
"Mandy?" Corrine screeched from inside the studio. "Is that you already, doll?"
"It sure is," Hank said.
Aunt Corrine appeared in the doorway, wearing paint splattered smock that looked as if it may have been originally orange beneath all that paint. Her hands were indeed covered with gobs of thick blue, green, yellow and red paint swirled together to make streaks. When she met Mandy's gaze she smiled and furiously started wiping her hands on her already filthy smock.
"I wasn't talking about you, Hank, and you know it," Corrine said, yanking the smock off and hanging it on a hook with some others that were just as colorful. Now void of paint splatter, she opened her arms to give Mandy a hug. "Honey, I can't believe how much you've grown."
Mandy couldn't help but laugh. "That's only because every time you see me you expect me to still be nine. How are you Aunt Corrine?"
"Missing you. Come, let me show you what I've been working on."
Over the years, Aunt Corrine's hobby had turned into more of a profession of sorts for her. She hadn't made a whole lot of money off the sale of her work, but she did have a showing in Dallas a few years before when she'd managed to get the attention from an art dealer.
"The last time we spoke on the phone you were just about to move into that new townhouse, and I thought you'd be needing some artwork for the walls."
Corrine pulled out a large oil canvas behind a stack of canvases and placed it on an empty stand. Mandy recognized the scene immediately and had to draw in a deep breath to crush the ache in her chest.
"It's beautiful, Aunt Corrine."
Her aunt smiled. "I'm glad you like it. I know how much you always enjoyed swimming in the pond up in the north pasture. Now you'll have a little piece of the Double T to keep with you in Philadelphia."
She hugged her aunt and thanked her.
Hank had retreated to the other room. She and Aunt Corrine followed the sound of his whistle to the living room where she found Hank settled in his favorite chair. The smile that had been so bright on Hank's face was now gone and replaced by a drained expression. His skin had turned gray and his breathing appeared labored. Panic filled Mandy.
"Come sit and tell me about what you've been up to," he said.
She glanced at her aunt, who motioned her to go ahead.
"How's your job at the firm?"
"Fine. But I'd rather talk about you." She gathered up a deep breath of air to gain some strength. "Beau tells me you're not feeling well."
"I'm feeling just fine now that you're here."
"Don't give me that. Beau told me all about your heart condition," Mandy said, taking the lead. She was used to taking the lead in her job. She knew Hank better than to think he’d give up any information without Mandy pushing for it. The sooner they got his health and need for surgery out in the open, the sooner they could deal with it and she could convince him to have the procedure.
"He did, did he?"
Mandy heard Aunt Corrine's heavy sigh behind her and wondered how much they'd already argued over this very thing.
"I'm glad he told me. It seems everyone knew but me."
"It's been too long since you've been back at the Double T. I didn't want to worry you or spend the entire visit talking about me and my ticker," Hank admitted.
"Fine. Then we'll get the talking over with now and be done with it. What are you prepared to do?"
"Nothing."
Stubborn old fool, she fumed silently. "Then I'm sorry, Uncle Hank, but I'm not going to let it go. As far as I'm concerned, refusing surgery that will save your life is not an option."
She heard the same familiar melody she'd heard just before she and Aunt Corrine had come into the living room drifting in the air from behind her. Since her uncle had just been struggling for air, she realized it hadn't been him whistling that sweet tune earlier. It had been Beau. Beau's boot heels bouncing down the steps mixed in with the tune. He'd probably been bringing her bags to her room.
Hank lifted his eyes and stared at Beau when he walked into the living room. Beau stopped whistling as if he immediately knew by the atmosphere in the room that they were talking about Hank's condition.
"Come here, son. I'd like a word with you," Hank said. "In fact, I'd like a word with both of you."
#
Chapter Three
He was toast. He’d seen that look on Hank’s face enough to know Hank was pissed. Not that Be
au cared much about getting scolded. If he had to do it again, he still would have told Mandy the truth about Hank's heart condition. There were too many secrets between them already.
"Oh, don't you be angry with him, Uncle Hank," Mandy said, taking Hank's hand in hers.
What the...? She was actually defending him? Did that mean she wasn't angry with him anymore? He could only hope. But she didn't sound like the same woman he'd just picked up at the airport.
Mandy had wasted no time at all confronting Hank about having the bypass surgery. By the way the tension in Hank's face seemed to ease a bit, Beau realized she'd only said what she did to defuse Hank. It surely wouldn't help his heart any if his blood pressure rose through the roof.
Mandy hadn't changed much in that way. She had a way of saying what she felt as if a spirit moved inside her, guiding her emotions and actions. There were times she was so transparent.
Still, Hank cast a strong eye at Beau.
"I didn't see any point in keeping the truth from her," Beau said.
"She was bound to find out sooner or later, Hank," Corrine said, placing her hand on his arm.
"I suppose," Hank conceded quietly. "It might have come better from me, though."
"It wasn't going to be good any way I got it." Mandy's eyes welled up with tears, and she blew out a quick breath. "Why are you being so stubborn about this? Beau said you could die without this surgery."
"I've got a ranch to run and as of two days ago I'm down one hand. Take me out and that makes a whole lot of work to go around for the rest of the hands."
Mandy glanced back at Beau. Once again, her eyes were filled with questions and suspicion. "Is that why you asked Beau to come back?"
"If this ranch is going to run without me, I'm going to need people I can trust to work it. For your Aunt Corrine's sake," he said softly.
Corrine bunched up her fingers and closed her eyes. Mandy rose up straight in defiance. No, not defiance. It was fear. She'd been hit with too much too soon. He now knew he'd been right to warn her before they'd arrived at the ranch. It gave her time to absorb some of the shock.
"You're not going anywhere, Hank Promise," Corrine sputtered, propping a fist on her hip. "Not if I have anything to say about it. And you know me, I have plenty to say."
"That you do. But what happens to me, well, that's up to the good Lord, darlin'. I just figure while he's takin' his time deciding what he wants with me, I need people around me I can trust."
"You have my support in any way you need it, Uncle Hank."
Hank smiled at that, giving his face a peacefulness Beau hadn't seen in Hank since he'd come back to the Double T. It was almost as if Hank was corralling everyone he loved around him. Just in time.
"I know, sweat pea."
"I'll do whatever I can to help you and Aunt Corrine until you recover from surgery."
For a brief moment the whole room stilled. Beau had hoped seeing Mandy would have changed things for Hank, would have made him see that life was definitely worth the risk of surgery. But the quick shake of Hank's head told Beau that nothing had changed.
"It's a waste of breath talking about bypass surgery."
"All the more reason why we should be talking about it, I'd think," Corrine shot back.
"Darlin', this old heart of mine is going to hold on for as long as it takes for me to get done what needs to get done. After that, it's up to the Lord," Hank said.
Corrine planted her hands on her thighs and pushed herself up to a stand, abruptly leaving the room.
The three of them stared as she retreated to her studio and quietly closed the door. No doubt there had been more than enough talk on that subject since Hank was diagnosed.
"You may be able to get away with that kind of talk with Aunt Corrine, but I'm telling you right now, I won't hear any it, Uncle Hank."
"Just because it's unpleasant, doesn't mean what needs to be said shouldn't be said. I need to know I can count on you."
Mandy stared at Hank for a long moment, squashing down the foreboding feeling that filled her. Uncle Hank had always been there for her, supported her unconditionally in every way. Even when she could never live up to her father's expectations, she knew she always had Uncle Hank's support. He'd always been proud of whatever she achieved and didn't expect more. It made the sting of Damien Morgan's expectations less severe.
"Of course you have my support. Always."
He smiled his approval at her, and then glanced at Beau, who had been leaning against the doorjamb from the beginning. She could tell by her uncle’s reaction that he was still none too pleased with Beau for spilling the beans before Hank had a chance to do it himself.
Hank stared at Beau, but he spoke to Mandy. "I want you to learn the ins and outs of running the Double T, Mandy."
Her hand flew to her chest. "You...you want me to work the ranch?"
"No, not actually work it. Despite being down a man, I've got enough hands to get the work done if nothin' interferes."
Mandy understood. Some of the hands at the Double T had been with Hank since he bought the spread twenty years ago. If anything happened to Hank, it would happen to all of them. They were all family.
"I want you to learn how to run it. I need someone I can trust."
"Why me? I don't know the first thing about ranching. There must be a hundred cowboys within riding distance who could get the job done right--"
"But none I can trust with something so important."
She was speechless. Run the ranch? "All right. You can...teach me anything you think I'll need me to know."
"Well, therein lies the problem. I don't have the breath in me I used to. I tire too easy. You've already seen it. I need someone else who knows ranching. Someone who still has some strength in his bones to show you everything you need to know."
She shook her head, wishing this morbid talk would end and her uncle would just agree to have the surgery. If he did, he'd be back on his feet in a matter of weeks. There'd be no need for talks of numbered days and last breaths.
"Uncle Hank, don't-"
"No, sweet pea, I'm serious. That's why I want you to learn the ropes from someone else."
"Well, you can teach me what I need to know and whatever you can't do, Aunt Corrine will do. She's been living on this ranch long enough to know how it all runs."
Hank laughed, a twinkled lit his eye as it always did when he talked of his wife. "She's spent more time picking out the color of paints and clay to pay any attention to the way things are run around here. And that's just the way it should be. She's not a ranching woman by nature."
Hank looked at her squarely and Mandy's heart squeezed. "Mandy, darlin', I know you don't want to hear this but you have to. I'm going to die eventually and I need--"
"No! You're not going to die," she said, shoving herself to her feet. She was surprisingly steady for a woman who felt as shell shocked as she did. "You're a young man. Too young."
"A young man with a bad ticker," he said quietly. "And I'm not messing with any doctors or surgeons who want to poke and prod me just to give me a few more months."
Tears filled her eyes again, but she remained steady, holding them back. It would do no good to break down. "So you're just going to give up? On all of us?"
Hank smiled then. She'd seen that smile before and knew the depth of his feelings for her. Instead of bringing her comfort, it made what was happening that much harder.
"I'm doing no such thing. I'm preparing for the future. And that means teaching you all you need to know about the Double T."
"But if you're not going to teach me, then who?"
His eyes lifted to the man who was still silently standing at the far end of the living room. She followed his gaze until her own eyes settled on Beau.
"You're looking at him."
* * *
She couldn’t breathe. What was he thinking? What was he doing? Learning all the ins and outs of the Double T would require her to be in Beau's back pocket the entire time
she was in Texas.
"How long can you stay?" Hank was talking in some far away voice. Had he really asked her to work with Beau?
She glanced at him, pushing past the sudden panic that gripped her. His face was paler than it had been even a few minutes ago, as if the stress of this conversation alone had taken years off his life. But even with its gray color, his expression was still hopeful. This was important to him, for whatever reason, she realized. Very important. He wanted it badly enough that her mother insisted, yet again, that she drop everything and move into action.
As annoyed as she'd been with her mother's insistence about coming to Texas, she realized this wasn't her mother talking. It was Uncle Hank and Uncle Hank didn't demand things of her. Ever. He asked. How could Mandy refuse?
"I'll work something out with Dad. I'm sure I can stay as long as you need me to. I can even work here and Fed Ex my work to the office. It isn't a problem."
She would make sure it wasn't a problem. Oh, her father would give her grief for being gone so long. Probably give her that standard lecture about having to pull her own weight, that he wasn't about to let anyone think he gave his daughter special privileges just because she was his daughter. If he got his gander up, she may even lose her place in the agency and have to start at the bottom again. No one would accuse Damien Morgan of nepotism.
But it was doable and by God, she would do it.
"You can count on me," she said resolutely.
Hank's smile shined bright through his ghostly face and told of his pleasure. It also gave the shadow of a dying man. She didn't have that much time to convince Uncle Hank to have surgery. He was truly coming to the end. Why had they waited so long to tell me?
It broke her heart. And yet she knew she was partly to blame for not knowing sooner. She should have stayed in touch, she silently admonished herself. No matter what happened between her and Beau, she shouldn't have let her relationship with her aunt and uncle suffer for it.
Her Heart for the Asking (Book 1 - TEXAS HEARTS) Page 3