"What do you know about it?"
"I hear plenty. It's a small town."
"You're telling me," she muttered. "I don't see what business this is of yours."
Rissa stalked over and glared down her nose. "Because I will kick your prissy little behind from here to Mexico if you hurt the closest thing I have to a brother one bit more than you already have."
Scarlett stood her ground. "Then you'll be delighted to know that I'm leaving tomorrow, first thing."
"Figures. Another Gallagher running away. Our great-great-granddaddy is turning over in his grave at the cowards who lay claim to his name. And Grandma Gallagher would hate that you've been making her biscuits."
Longing, sharp and bittersweet, pierced her. "Did you know her?"
Rissa shrugged. "A little. She used to save me peppermints and sneak them to me when Mama wasn't looking. She was really old then, but I can still see her and those bright blue eyes that were just like Aunt Ruby's."
Like mine, Scarlett realized. "What was she like?"
"What do you care? You're running away, remember?"
"I wish I didn't have to." Why was she admitting anything to this woman who clearly loathed her?
"Then don't."
"It's not that simple. Trouble will come if I don't."
"What kind of trouble?"
It was an odd thing that this woman who didn't like her seemed to be someone she could tell the truth to, someone who wouldn't be destroyed by it. "Nothing I can discuss, but maybe I can come back someday."
"Yeah, right. So you can upset everyone all over again."
The tiny flicker of hope sputtered out. She was right. "I have work to do." Scarlett turned away. "Nice to meet you."
"Sure thing, cousin." Scarlett didn't need to see the sneer on her cousin's face to hear it in her voice.
The door slammed behind her.
Scarlett stared into the distance, despair turning the sunny day dark.
Then she shook herself and went back to work.
* * *
Ian gave her wide berth, pointedly working as far from where she was as possible.
But even he had to eat. She dished him up a mug of thick, beefy stew and proffered the plate of thick-sliced ham and cheese or roast beef sandwiches she'd compiled with two kinds of her own homemade bread. A heaping bowl of potato salad sat beside the platter, and fruit filled another bowl. All sorts of side dishes had been added by various townspeople.
Though Ian didn't look at her as he filled his plate, she was gratified to have the chance to nourish him.
"You do good man food," said Harley Sykes.
"You sure do, Miz Ross," chimed in Ben Butler. "Thanks for your help."
"I'm very happy to be a part of this," she answered honestly.
Ian's dark gaze flicked to hers. Liar, she could practically see on his lips.
She met his gaze steadily. It wasn't a lie. If she cared less, she'd stay and take her chances, but these people and this town had become far too dear to her.
Ian's name was called by a group that had made a place for him at their table, and she breathed a sigh of relief as that uncomfortable regard transferred from her. She watched him make his way through the crowd, hailed by first one, then another. Sweetgrass might not have an official mayor, but he was certainly the unofficial leader, respected and admired by all.
Life gets hard, but you don't run away. You don't leave everyone who needs you behind.
She wasn't running, not the way he thought. She was sparing them the consequences of her mistakes.
"Ruby just called—or rather, Arnie did," Veronica said, coming up beside her. "She was going to come, but he convinced her to stay. He says she just isn't up to it. I'm worried about her. Ruby is never sick. I don't know what she'd do without you here. Have to close down, I suppose."
Scarlett worried her lower lip. Nana had seemed fine when she left this morning, had even said she'd be back cooking next week.
"Doesn't bother Miss High and Mighty here," Rissa sneered as she approached and filled her plate. "She's got more important things on her mind than her sick grandma."
"Rissa, be nice. Scarlett is doing all she can."
"Yeah?" Rissa gestured with her chin. "Ask her if she's packed yet."
Scarlett glared at Rissa. Rissa glared right back.
"Seriously?" Veronica asked. "You're really leaving? But Ruby—"
"Scarlett, there's something wrong with the cake," called Brenda. "I think it got smushed."
"Excuse me," Scarlett said without bothering to wait for an answer.
She rescued the cake and set out desserts. She'd intended to stay and help with whatever repairs she was capable of performing, but by the expressions she saw, word had spread, probably courtesy of her cousin the cowgirl.
People weren't happy. The earlier affection she'd felt from them withered away as they understood that, just like her mother, she was leaving Sweetgrass.
It couldn't matter, she told herself as she got into her car and drove off. No, she wasn't like her mother in one way. She very much wanted to stay.
But she couldn't. Sure, she could probably eke out a few more days or even weeks here, but what was the point? Like removing a bandage, ripping it off fast was better. She needed to yank Sweetgrass right out of her heart.
Her choices were to run and try to hide, which would have to be forever if she crossed the DA.
Or go back and face the music. Let him put her in a safe place until the trial, then testify and—
And what? What if Kostov won the case? He'd be free, but would he forget her? Just let her go?
She didn't want to be on the run anymore. She didn't understand why her mother had left this place, but Scarlett very much wanted to return if she could ever find a way.
She just didn't know what that way was. Until she did, she should go. She longed to put down roots, and hovering here like a butterfly was no good. They'd get on fine without her. She'd taught Henry how to cook all the main dishes Ruby served, and he was really quite good at it. Ruby wouldn't have to come back to work if she didn't feel up to it—
Oh, Nana. I want you to be well. I want more time with you.
Her grandmother's life had been hard enough, though. Scarlett would not make it worse by involving Nana in her mistakes.
She would go back, and tonight she would cook ahead as much food as she could manage, then she would go talk to her grandmother and—
And what? Nana had waited all those years for Scarlett's mother to return, kept a faithful vigil every night and every day.
What was it going to do to her if Scarlett left?
Maybe she could be evasive. Tell Nana she wasn't sure how soon she'd be back, but it wouldn't be long. Once she was away from here, she'd stay in touch and she'd do everything she could from a distance. She'd lay out plans for that event center and restaurant she'd conceptualized for the courthouse, start looking for investors. Find a chef for it.
It should be mine. Mine and Ian's. She longed to help him put his ideas into practice. Work side by side with him to help save Sweetgrass.
Scarlett pulled up next to the cafe, her mind a whirlwind of longing and misery, of faint hope and bitter disappointment, of guilt and—
She opened the back door of the cafe and flipped the light switch, but nothing happened. Oh, great. She turned to go to the storeroom for a light bulb—
"Well, now," said a heavily-accented voice that was only too familiar. "A long way you have made me travel, Miss Ross." One gloved hand covered her mouth, and she started to struggle.
"I wouldn't, if I were you. The old lady next door will suffer if you do. Her fate is tied directly to yours."
Scarlett froze.
Not Nana. No.
The glitter of a knifeblade darted past her vision.
And came to rest against her throat.
* * *
Ian saw her leave alone, and the temper he'd been keeping barely in check boiled over. He rose and ex
cused himself to the group he'd been sitting with, only half-hearing what they said.
She's leaving now, his gut told him. Right now—skating away while the town was busy.
Unless something had happened to Ruby.
No. She would have said something to someone. She knew how important Ruby was to all of them.
"Good riddance," Rissa said, coming up behind him. She snorted. "Forget that hoohah about trouble coming if she stays. She's just like her mom, eager to run away."
He frowned. "What do you mean, trouble?"
"I don't know. Who cares? She tried to play it like she'd prefer to stay, like she had no choice but to go." Rissa snorted. "Yeah, right."
"Rissa, don't be so hard on her," Veronica said. "What exactly did she say?"
"I am sick to death of people in my family leaving." Rissa's chin jutted.
"Rissa…"
She sighed. "All right, all right, let me think." She scrunched up her forehead. "I told her she didn't have to run away. She said it wasn't that simple, that trouble would come if she didn't leave."
Ian puzzled over what she could mean about trouble.
Screw it. Whatever the hell was going on, he was not going to simply let Scarlett go, not without a fight. "Veronica, I'll be back to finish—"
His dad hobbled up. "If you're thinking about going after that little girl, don't you worry about what you were working on. Plenty of us here to fix what needs doing." He nodded toward town. "But I'm thinking you're the only one capable of fixing this."
Ian hesitated. He belonged here, helping out. This had been his idea.
Veronica nudged him. "Ruby will be devastated if she leaves, and I don't think she's the only one. You go on."
"I'll be back," he said.
"Take your time," Veronica responded.
* * *
Ian saw her car at the back of the cafe as he passed down Main Street. He wondered if he'd find her there or over at Ruby's and decided to start with the cafe. He parked his truck across the street from Ruby's and headed for her door. As he passed the cafe, he glanced in the side window—
He stopped dead in his tracks. Everything inside him froze.
She was in there, but she wasn't alone. Some big, ugly brute had her in a chair, her mouth taped shut, her wrists bound. He was talking on the phone.
Scarlett was pale as death.
Trouble will come if I don't leave.
What the hell?
His instinct was to charge inside and beat the living hell out of that bastard. Who was he? What did he want? If he only wanted to rob the cash register, he'd be sorely disappointed. Everybody knew the cash register was left empty when Ruby closed.
But he didn't look like a simple thief. As Ian listened, he could hear a foreign accent. Was that…Russian or something? Definitely not a familiar language around here, and the guy was more than pissed.
Just then Scarlett saw him, and her eyes went wide. She shook her head at him.
Yeah, right. I'm just going to walk away like a good boy.
Ian held up a finger and pointed back toward the street. I'll be back, he mouthed. He needed his rifle from the gun rack in his truck. She looked so terrified that it was hard to leave her, but he was too far away, and the guy was too close to her. His best chance was to take the guy down before he knew Ian was there.
He rounded the corner.
The bore of a Glock pointed straight at him. "Where are you going, cowboy?" A second beefy guy. The same accent.
Two thugs with Slavic accents, here in Sweetgrass? What was going on? Even if he could manage to wrestle this guy to the ground, the other one would hear. However inconceivable this was, it was real, and he was all Scarlett had.
"You go inside, cowboy." The guy shoved his shoulder, and Ian had to force himself not to react.
Stay alert. Look for any advantage. He would not let them hurt her, whatever he had to do to prevent it.
They stepped inside, and the one holding Scarlett whirled to face them. His heavy brows snapped together at the sight of Ian. He kept talking in that foreign language but jerked his head in Scarlett's direction before turning away again.
Are you hurt? Ian asked her silently.
One quick shake of the head.
"No talking." The one behind Ian pushed him toward Scarlett. "Be silent, cowboy."
The other one glanced at Ian as he ended his call. "Are there more of you?"
He had no idea what the right answer was, so he went on his gut. "Yeah. More will be here soon."
The two traded glances. The guy next to Ian spoke in English again. "Killing her is one thing. She is stranger here. But this one…I don't know, Ilya. I don't think—"
"You are not paid to think. Shut your mouth and go outside. Bring me more zipties for him, then watch for the others."
"What about—"
"I have the gun. They are unarmed. She is small woman, though much trouble. I am waiting for call back, then we will take her and go. There is much empty land in this Texas. She will not be found soon."
The second guy left.
Ian cut a glance at Scarlett. What the hell kind of trouble was she in?
Her eyes met his, dark with sorrow.
He made his expression as reassuring as possible.
Damn it, he wasn't giving up. He needed to act now, while the other one was outside. He scanned covertly for possible weapons. Her knife rack was only a few feet away. If he could somehow distract this guy before the other returned with restraints...
The first brute was watching him. Ian did his best to look unthreatening.
"Who are you to her?"
Instinct told him to disavow any relationship. "Just a customer."
"The place is closed."
"It's a small town. Sometimes we just wander in."
"In small towns, people notice too much." The guy leaned toward Ian. "Do you notice too much, cowboy?"
Ian held his gaze, looking for his opportunity. He hadn't been in all those boyhood brawls for nothing. Mackey had taught the Four Horsemen everything he knew about martial arts and fighting dirty. Ian wasn't sure how much he remembered, but he had motivation, for sure.
"Answer me. Or are you Texas cowboys not so tough, maybe?" The blank eyes gloated.
He did remember one move Mackey had said was too deadly to try out on each other, one that would immobilize a grown man.
It wasn't like he had a lot of options. No telling when anyone would come back into town.
Scarlett made a noise.
The guy glanced over at her.
Ian launched himself forward, knuckles extended. He caught the guy right in the throat.
The guy gurgled. Dropped like a rock.
Ian crouched over him but kept alert for the second man's return. He flipped this guy over, searching the area for anything to bind his hands. He spotted an apron nearby and used the strings to tie the guy's hands. Found another one and restrained the guy's ankles.
He turned to Scarlett and crouched before her, keeping his voice low. "Leave the tape on so the other guy doesn't suspect anything. Keep your hands behind your back. Are there others?"
She shook her head.
"All right."
She made a sound behind the tape, but there was no time for talking. He grabbed the biggest knife and carefully slit her bonds, then moved past her toward the door, plastering himself against the wall behind it.
The second guy clomped up the steps. "I see no one anywhere around. Perhaps he is lying—" His eyes widened as he took in Ian's absence, already drawing his weapon.
Ian sliced at his gun hand. The man yelled, and the gun clattered to the floor. He rounded on Ian, and Ian's boot connected with the side of the man's knee. The man fell away, crying out again. Ian glanced around quickly for the gun, but before he could locate it, the man regained his feet and charged Ian, aiming a vicious chop at Ian's wrist, forcing his knife hand to let go.
Then he rammed his shoulder into Ian's chest, and they both f
ell to the ground.
The guy outweighed Ian by at least fifty pounds, but much of that was blubber. He might be more accustomed to violence, but Ian worked at hard physical tasks every day of his life.
Still, he couldn't overpower the guy, and they rolled over the floor, delivering punches and struggling for an advantage. Ian's back slammed into a table and sent pots flying.
"Stop!" Scarlett yelled. "I'll shoot!"
Ian glanced over to see her with the man's pistol held in shaking hands.
The guy caught Ian in the side of the head, and he saw stars.
"She said stop," came a voice from the doorway. "She may not know how to shoot, but I do."
The guy wheeled toward the voice.
Ruby stood in the doorway, a shotgun in her hand.
The man roared. Ian took advantage of the distraction to land a punch to the guy's temple.
He slumped to the floor.
"Thanks, Ruby," Ian said. Then he glanced at Scarlett's shaking hands. "If you wouldn't mind pointing that toward the floor, I'd be grateful."
She set it on the table, then charged toward Ian, nearly knocking him back down. "I'm so sorry, so sorry. I never meant to bring my trouble to you."
She felt so good in his arms he held on tight for a moment.
She spoke into his chest. "Now you see why I have to go. He'll just send more."
"Who will send more?" But he didn't wait for her to answer. "Never mind. You're not going anywhere until we talk." He looked at Ruby. "You got this one?"
Ruby nodded fiercely.
Ian let Scarlett go and searched the guy's pockets for the zipties he'd been sent for. When he found them, he quickly restrained the man.
Finally Ruby lowered her shotgun and swayed on her feet.
"Nana!" Scarlett raced to her, and they clung together. "I'm sorry, Nana," she sobbed. "I didn't know how to tell you. But he won't give up. That's why I can't stay."
"Hush now, sweetheart," Ruby soothed. "Let's go home and talk about this."
"No. I have to pack."
She still meant to go. After all this— "Are they from New York?" Ian asked, his voice harsh.
Scarlett's head whipped toward him. Her eyes looked devastated as she nodded.
Texas Roots: The Gallaghers of Sweetgrass Springs Page 20