by Taylor Hart
“Texas, is this a friend of yours?”
She stopped. The voice was syrupy and motherly. Very Southern.
Texas sounded uncomfortable. “Uh, she’s leaving.”
The woman was suddenly next to her. “Hi, there. You must be that reporter Texas told me about.”
The woman was a bit taller than Liberty, maybe five eight or nine, but she was too motherly to be intimidating. Liberty had an impression of a beautiful blonde, well put together, before she hugged her. Caught off guard, Liberty had no choice but to return the hug.
She caught Texas’ eyes over her shoulder. He looked away, sucking in a breath.
His mama. She’d seen pictures on the Internet. His mother was a pretty lady.
Pulling back, his mother smiled at her, and she recognized the warmth as something that Texas had when all his walls were down, which wasn’t often. “Well, that’s nice of you to come here.” She waved a hand into the air. “Do you need to steal some time with Texas?”
Liberty didn’t know what to say. “I think we’re done.” She swung back to his mother. “I’m so sorry to hear about your husband.”
Texas moved next to his mother. “It’s fine, Mama. She’s going to head back to …” he trailed off.
His mama, seeming not to understand, shook her head, tsking her tongue. She looked at Liberty. “Thank you about Bill. He’s …” She shook her head. “Well, Texas probably already told you he’s stable. This has been a long road, but we’re moving forward. The doctor says he’ll probably be able to come home in a couple of days. When he gets a virus, it just hits all at once, ya know.” She gave Liberty a soft smile.
Liberty couldn’t help smiling back at her. She purposely didn’t look at Texas. She felt her hand going numb from holding on to her bag so tightly. “I’m glad he’s okay.” Whatever was between her and Texas, his mom didn’t deserve to be in the middle of all of it. “Well, I’ll go now.”
“Wait.” Texas’s mom looked at the suitcase in her hand. “Do you need a place to stay tonight, honey? Because we were just leaving to go back to the house for the night.” She turned to Texas. “Young man, where are your manners? Take the lady’s bag, and let’s get her settled at the house.” She reached out and gently squeezed her shoulder. “Then you and Texas can finish what you need to finish.” She gave her a smile that made Liberty feel better. “And I’ll tell you some good stories about him.”
His mother had power. Soft, strong, Southern hospitality power. Her eyes darted to Texas, who was staring at his mother who was looking at her.
“Thank you,” she said, not seeing a polite way out of this.
“Texas,” his mother said in a sharper tone.
Hesitating for only a minute, he reached over and gingerly took her suitcase.
She held on. “No, it’s okay.”
He easily jerked it out of her hand and put on a fake smile. “Mama says you’re staying, then you're staying.” His tone was challenging, daring her to argue.
“Okay,” she said, wondering again about that falling feeling she had every time she was near Texas Waters.
Chapter 18
“Texas was such a cute little boy. He always played war,” his mother told Liberty. “That’s why I think he grew up to be a soldier.”
Texas stared out the car window and tried to ignore his mother’s prattling. He loved his mother to death, but when she found a new person, man, she could talk their ear off. It’d been a couple of rough days for her at the hospital. Liberty clearly presented a pleasant distraction for her. His mama was sweet, but it made him nervous to have her rambling to Liberty. Not that she would put anything in the article that shouldn’t be there. He still better have veto power on that stupid article. His mind returned to a couple of minutes ago when he’d confronted her about the kiss. Too bad she wouldn’t give him answers. It had whiplashed him, her leaving and spending the weekend with another man.
After all they’d shared.
Now, she’d shown up here. He shook his head. Thanks to Mama, she was coming home to stay. Yipee-freaking-do.
Ugh. He’d never been able to deny his mother.
When he’d gotten that text from her, he’d sat up in his father’s room for a good ten minutes, trying to ignore it. Wanting to be able to dismiss the fact she was waiting at the hospital. Wanting to dismiss the fact she’d come here.
It wasn’t in her reporter duty. He was pretty sure she wasn’t here to scoop this.
That would be low.
He thought of the warm, open way she interacted with his mama. Her Boston accent was softer when she spoke to her. Kinder.
Glancing at them, he noticed his mama’s hand over her arm and Liberty’s hand on top of his mama’s.
Liberty was kind.
But how did he know if kindness was a trait she normally showed? All he’d seen of her was her staying at Montana’s house, interviewing him.
He hadn’t liked her at first, but he’d liked something about her. Yeah, he would admit it. He’d also been incredibly attracted to her. Too attracted.
Remorse filled him. He shouldn’t have allowed all the teasing and flirting and chemistry.
If he would have been by himself, he would have slammed his fist into something. Since his mama was here, he would behave. She was pretty much the only person who could get him to do things without guilting him. She just didn’t do that. Wasn’t that kind of mother. He loved his mama and wanted to make her happy. Montana teased him about it because before his mama came to a concert he always shaved.
They arrived at his parents’ home. It was a house he’d bought them on the beach. Not fancy, but four thousand square feet, and only two years old. There was a pool and a hot tub. They had a chef his mother loved, and they finally had all the comforts of life. His father had grumbled about it, never saying thank you. His mama, on the other hand, bragged about him to everyone she met. She had always bragged about him, even in the trailer park.
“You are gonna love this house. Texas bought it for his daddy and me a couple of years ago.” She flashed Liberty a smile.
Getting out, he went and retrieved Liberty’s luggage and watched his mama guide her up the steps and into the home. The sun was setting, and he paused for a moment, watching Liberty’s hair shine in the setting light. The white dress, white sandals, and red belt made her look polished.
His mama looked the same, and he was suddenly proud of that. He liked knowing that he’d helped his mama. He had made her life more comfortable. That was the best thing about having money, being able to help her.
He thought Liberty would be interested in that for the article, but then he shook his head, saying goodnight to the driver and asking him to be back at eight in the morning. Mama liked to go to the hospital early.
He went into the house and listened to his mama going on and on about the cancer—finding it, treating it, and what it meant. He knew Liberty would know most of this from her Internet research, but he saw the well-mannered, private school girl in front of him. Her hands were clasped together and an interested look was on her face.
His mama took her in the kitchen, pulled out glasses, and filled them with water, not missing a beat, talking and talking.
He loved this house. He stared out the floor to ceiling windows that opened onto the beach. The home wasn’t on a public beach, but the public could walk by next to the ocean. The pool and the deck were long. The beach chairs faced the sunset.
“Texas,” his mama said, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Would you mind taking the lovely lady to the deck and sitting a bit? I’m going to chat with Lydia and get us something to eat."
He put the bag down, knowing his mama would have him take it to the guest room. The one with the pale blue curtains and paisley flowers. It was her favorite, and she always had guests stay in that one. He hesitated then found himself escorting Liberty out.
“Thank you,” Liberty said, as he held the door for her.
Liberty moved past, not looking at him, and he smel
led a hint of her scent. That light, strawberry smell.
Both of them moved to some chairs and sat but didn’t say anything. There was no way he could have a conversation with her. What did she want him to say?
“Texas.”
Well, shoot.
“Texas, I don’t know why I’m here. I was just … I heard about your father, and I just had this crazy thought that you might want someone.”
Glancing at her, he looked at her crossed legs. Her pink toenails. Her perfect hair and makeup. She was definitely a princess. Not his kind of woman anyway. What had he been thinking to imagine, even for a minute, that it could work?
“Texas?”
His name brought him back to her
“Did you hear anything I just said?”
Sucking in a breath, he shook his head. “About my father.” He felt himself grow broody just thinking about his father and what he’d said to Texas earlier that day. He blinked and then ran a hand over his head.
“Is he okay?” she asked quietly.
“He has cancer. I thought we established that?” he said just as snippy as she’d been with him earlier. Immediately, he regretted talking to her that way.
Her face held the expression that said, “I’m letting you off the hook, but you just confused me.”
“Sorry.” He let out a breath and stared out at the ocean. His father was getting to him. The whole waiting for an endless, what? What? He wanted to shout.
Leaning back into the chair with a huff, she stared out across the water. “It’s so beautiful.”
Feeling some of the tension draining out of him. “I wanted Mama to be on the water. She always brought us here in the summer, and she loved being right on the water.”
They both sat in silence.
He couldn’t help thinking about her and Hale.
“Texas, I can go.” She stood. “I shouldn’t have come.”
He stood too, hating that he felt this out of control with his emotions right now. “No." He held up his hand. “I guess you can get back to the article. Finish it. What other questions do you have?”
Her eyes met his. “Umm." She looked at a loss, and he could feel the attraction between them.
“Texas, Liberty, the chef has prepared a couple of sandwiches,” his mama called out.
They both went back into the house. Texas excused himself. There was no way he could be civil the whole evening. “I’m not hungry.” He pulled his mama in and kissed her forehead. “I’m going to retire early.”
Chapter 19
Liberty lay in bed, the moonlight streaming through her window, soft white curtains shielding her from the brightness of it. It was peaceful here and so beautiful, but she couldn’t sleep.
Turning to her side, she looked at the clock that read one o’clock in the morning. She punched the pillow next to her. Stupid. She thought of sitting with his mother and eating sandwiches. His mother was so polite.
Honestly, the article wasn’t why she was here. She knew that. Texas knew that. But, his mama—if she did know that, let her off the hook. She took the initiative and told her things that might help the article. They’d fallen into a nice, easy conversation. Chatting. Liberty found her enchanting. She was soft and kind. So different from her own mother.
At one point, when she’d told Liberty about Texas leaving for the army and being deployed, tears streamed down her cheeks. She didn’t even wipe them away. She was clearly so proud of him. It made Liberty think of her own mother. Not warm. Not proud of her.
Liberty’s mother was cold by comparison, unemotional, not at all motherly. No, her mother was more like a stereotypical father in some ways. She’d shipped her off young. Hadn’t been affectionate. When Liberty watched cheesy Hallmark movies at Christmas, she never thought of her mother. She thought more of her father. He had been kinder, softer, more loving. Always had a kind word or a hug.
Warmth.
Why was she thinking about this? Her heart was racing, and she sat up. Why? Her mind flitted instantly to Texas. He was very male. Full of traditionally male energy. And his mama was so sweet, so full of love.
A tear fell from her eye, and she wasn’t sure why.
She thought of Texas’ father, lying in the hospital room right now, on oxygen. His mother said he had a virus, and with the lung cancer, it made it hard for him to stop coughing.
Texas. She knew he was mad at her. For good reason, she had kissed him and then gone off with Hale.
She also knew his father weighed on him. His pain touched her. It was like she could feel it. At the moment, it was the only thing that could compete with this crazy, erratic energy.
Getting out of bed, she went to the doors that led to the small deck off her room. She opened them, wishing for the cold Wyoming air when the warm, humid air touched her. Pushing out, she relaxed at the sound of the ocean.
Then she heard something. Turning her head, she heard it again. What? A pounding? A crash? It sounded like it was coming from the side of their house.
Only hesitating for a moment, she rushed back inside, changed from her nightgown into shorts and a t-shirt, slipped on flip-flops, and tried to quietly open her door to the hall. The coast was clear. Since they had such large windows in the main area, she easily found her way down the hall, through the living room and kitchen and out into the garage by moonlight.
She heard the noise again. This time it was louder than before.
Walking out into the garage, she heard someone cussing and realized it was Texas.
She rushed out, took a turn, and saw him with a large axe. No, not an axe, the long handle had a mallet on the end of it. It looked like something firefighters might use to break down a door.
He wore only gym shorts. His shirt was off. His hair was sticking up in what would seem to anyone else a model-like way. His body glistened with sweat. His arms reached back, and then he threw himself into the swing that landed on what appeared to be a red Cougar.
Understanding dawned on her. It was the car he’d restored with his father. The one memory he’d told her to put in the article about his father.
A good memory.
Adrenaline spiked through her. He looked mad, crazy.
“Texas!” she said, not in a scream, but loudly.
Swerving to face her, his gaze met hers, and somehow it darkened. “What?” He reared back, and hit it again.
It was hot, but windy, and the wind messed his hair up. Sweat poured off of him, and she wondered how long he’d been doing this.
Circling closer to him, she inspected the damage. Headlights, windshield, antenna, mirrors, and now he was systematically working his way down the sides of the car and getting all the other windows.
Clunk. Another hit.
“Texas,” she whispered.
He just kept on hitting it. Over and over again. Okay, she’d honestly never witnessed a complete freak-out in a person. But she was pretty sure this was it. He was melting down.
She did the only thing she could think of to do. She moved to a large landscaping rock next to where he was hitting the car, and she sat.
The intensity with which he was destroying the car was pretty amazing.
He reared back again and again. She thought of how he would be in action, in a war. Powerful. She saw his bicep flex in the moonlight. The tattoo was visible, and she thought of kissing it the other night.
Chills washed through her.
This man, she couldn’t imagine what he’d seen. What it would be like to have people you know die. She couldn’t be certain after how long, but eventually, Texas stopped. Abruptly.
He stood there, staring at the car. Sweat dripped right off the front of his nose. His body glistened in the moonlight. His breathing subsided. He didn’t move.
It was like he finally let go of the crazy energy, she felt it, because she relaxed. There was silence.
Except for the ocean. Turning to face it, it took her breath away.
Before she knew what happened, she was watchin
g Texas run past her, the club dropped on the ground. He ran hard to the ocean.
Reflexively, she got up and followed, not running, but she felt hypnotized by this man. By his pain. Like she’d somehow become tied to him.
He took off his running shoes and threw his socks down. Then he was moving into the ocean, doing a little dive and completely submersing himself.
Gradually getting closer to him, she waited for him to re-emerge. He didn’t. Panic swelled within her. Frantic and confused, she kicked off her flip-flops and rushed into the water. It was like there was a cloud right where they were standing, and she couldn’t see anything. The water was too dark.
“Texas!” she called out. “Texas!”
Just then he re-emerged, right next to her. “Yeah.” He pushed his hair back, slicking it down.
It jolted her, to have him right there. The whole night felt surreal.
Watching him beat the crap out of a car he told her was a good memory he shared about his dad. How did she help him?
“What?” he asked calmly, like nothing had just happened.
She knew better than to push him. Well, strike that, honestly most of the time, she didn’t care about pushing him, but this moment was different. Being this close to him took her breath away.
“What did you want, princess?” he asked, not in the same snide tone he'd used when they’d first met. No, the way he said princess, was almost endearing. It was soft, and he searched her face.
“Why did you do that?”
Their eyes locked for a second. Then he looked at her lips so long she wondered if he’d kiss her. She wondered if she would let him, slap him, or run off.
No, she wouldn’t run off. She knew that much.
He turned away from her and slipped back into the water a bit. “No, see, you don’t get to ask that.” He stared out at the ocean.
Her heart raced.
“You don’t get to ask me why I just …” He cringed and pulled a fist out of the water shaking his head and waving it into the air.
Her heart rate, which she was pretty sure was at maximum, ratcheted up another notch. “I’m not doing the article on you anymore,” she said softly.