Texas Hope: Sweetgrass Springs Stories (Texas Heroes Book 16)

by Jean Brashear

  Silence filled with too much emotion.

  “Is Michael all right? Is Ian all right? Scarlett and the baby—”

  “Everyone’s fine.” A pause. “I got the locket, and I’ve just been…thinking. About the past, you know?”

  “Yes.” She closed her eyes against the pain of remembering.

  “I’m sorry, Gordon.”

  “I’m sorry, Sophia,” he said at the same time.

  “What?”

  “What?”

  They tried again. “Why would you be sorry? You didn’t fail anyone,” she said.

  “I failed you.”

  Another long pause,

  “Gordon, you’re…okay?”

  A grunt. “Got a limp I don’t much care for, but the doc says I’ve rehabbed it as far as it’s gonna go. Need a cane more often than I’d like.”

  “Michael told me you’d suffered a stroke. Are there other effects?”

  “Getting old is hell, Sophia.”

  He sounded as strong as ever. “You’re hardly old.”

  “I feel that way. Ian’s had to take on too much of the load around here, though I’m picking up more of my responsibilities all the time.” A pause. “Hard to figure out when it’s time to turn over the reins altogether. Ian can do it all, of course, but I want more for him than that.” He exhaled. “He always wanted to travel, but he stayed here for me. Can’t feel right about that.”

  His reaction was very different from Allan’s to Michael, but Gordon had always been the fairest, most noble man she’d ever met. “He loved every inch of the ranch from the time he could walk,” she reminded him.

  “But how much of that had to do with me and my expectations? He could have had a different life if we’d left here.” A beat. “With you.”

  “You offered to stay in San Francisco, Gordon. I remember that.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t really mean it.”

  “I know. You and your land are one and the same. I couldn’t ask you to go. I just…”

  “Couldn’t stay,” he finished.

  “I was weak and wrong, and I’m more sorry than you can imagine.”

  “It was my fault, Sophia. I should have found a compromise.”

  Her eyes burned. “Such as?”

  He sighed. “I don’t know—I could have gone to work for your father, the way he wanted.”

  “You’re your own man, Gordon. You always were. You would have hated it.”

  “But I cost you. Cost us.”

  Her heart was lodged in her throat. When she could finally speak, she asked, “Michael said you forgive me? Is that really true?”

  “I think the better question is can you ever forgive me?”

  Her breath caught. “I never blamed you.”

  “You damn sure should have.”

  “I was a spoiled little rich girl.”

  “You tried for six years, Sophia. You can’t tell me that’s giving up easily.”

  “But I did give up, in the end,” she whispered. “I gave up my child.”

  Time itself stalled. He didn’t have to blame her, she would forever blame herself.

  “I just as much took him from you, Sophia. I didn’t give you any choice. I was so damn sure I knew what was best.”

  She’d never expected to hear anything like this, not ever. “I was weak, in so many ways, Gordon. And it cost me a child.”

  “It shouldn’t have. You were young and sheltered. I took you away from everything you knew. I cost you that child, and I let my own resentment scab over so that any second chances were buried too deep. I should have kept Ian in contact with you. Should have explained before his heart closed against you.”

  She pressed a fist to her heart. “Did he ever ask about me?”

  “Not after a time. He found a mama in Mary Gallagher.”

  “Mary. How is she?”

  “She passed when the boys were seniors.”

  “So he lost a mother all over again.” Her heart ached viciously.

  Gordon swore under his breath. “We can slice at both our hearts all day and night, but the past is over and done with.”

  “Is it?” Her shoulders sagged. “He’s never going to forgive me, is he?”

  “Not if you make it so easy to forget you.”

  She gasped. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying I think you should come here. Talk to Ian yourself.”

  “Gordon, how could I ever—?” Her thoughts veered wildly, her emotions swinging between hope and terror. “I could make things worse for him. He doesn’t deserve that.”

  “Ian’s a grown man, Sophia. A good one. He’s strong and solid.”

  “Michael said everyone looks to his lead and admires him.”

  “He’s a real fine man. So is Michael.”

  Her eyes filled. “And there’s my conundrum. If I had stayed for Ian, there would be no Michael.”

  “We might have had our own Michael.”

  And they’d have had each other all this time, the brothers. She knew how desperately Michael had wished for that.

  Gordon spoke again before she could. “We could make ourselves crazy over what ifs.” He spoke with the reason and strength he’d always possessed. “Those men need each other, and there’s always going to be a thorn between them as long as Ian doesn’t make peace with the past he swears he’s forgotten.”

  “I did that to him.”

  “It happened,” Gordon repeated. “What are we going to do about it now?”

  We. Oh, how that word made her yearn. “I’m terrified,” she admitted. “But I’m not weak anymore.”

  “So you’ll come?”

  “I don’t want to harm Scarlett or that baby by making Ian miserable. Maybe I should wait.”

  “Haven’t you waited long enough, honey?” he asked.

  Honey. She closed her eyes and let a tiny hope flutter.

  Then she opened them once more. They were a million miles from any possibility of affection between them.

  This was about Ian, and only Ian.

  She pressed her lips together and prayed for the strength not to hope too desperately that he would be happy to see her.

  If he just wouldn’t hate her, that would be a start. “I want to try.” She firmed her voice. “I will bring all the patience and determination I can summon…but I’ll also listen to any advice you want to share.”

  A chuckle. “Let me know when to meet your plane.”

  Chapter Eight

  Scarlett’s ankles were swelling again. She needed to be off her feet. Ruby kept one eye on her granddaughter and another on the group gathered around the right front corner booth where Gordon, Ian, Mackey, Rissa and Michael had trapped the woman Michael was clearly crazy over.

  Laken, on the other hand… Poor child. She watched the interactions with both unease and a clear sense of yearning.

  “You should go over there,” Ruby told her granddaughter. “That poor girl is a fish out of water, and Ian needs you with him because of Michael.”

  “Ian is fine,” Scarlett said without looking up. “The place is full to the rafters. I don’t have time to chat.”

  Ruby glanced around and caught Henry’s eye. With a nod, she indicated the grill where her granddaughter stood.

  The boy nodded back and made his way over. “Scarlett, could I have a turn? I need practice when it’s this busy.”

  “Good. Nana, why don’t you sit down?”

  “Excuse me, young lady, but this is my establishment, and I’m not a matter of weeks away from delivery. You go see your man, and while you’re at it, I think we need a plan to celebrate Texas Independence Day.”

  “What?” Scarlett’s head whipped to hers. “That’s tomorrow!”

  “It is.” She gave a pointed glance at Michael’s date. “And Michael’s trying to sell Laken on Sweetgrass. What could do that better than a town celebration? Jeanette, when Bridger comes in, send him to talk to me. He and his firemen need to barbecue. I’ve got brisket and ribs in
the meat locker. And send Harley over here, him or that crazy man I married. Might as well make that radio station useful. Scarlett, you go on now. Henry can handle it, or are you trying to tell the boy he’s not good enough?”

  “I would never—” Scarlett closed her mouth with a snap. “Nana, you are not going to manage me. I’ll sit when I’m ready.”

  Ruby pulled out the big guns. “Do you want to make Ian worry even more than he already does? Isn’t he under enough strain? If he gets a good look at those ankles, he’s going to cart you off himself. I’m giving you the chance to act like an adult, not a petulant child.”

  “Petulant—” Scarlett’s blue eyes sparked, her ire rising by the second.

  Ruby kept her own expression resolute. “You do realize I’ve been a hard-headed Gallagher woman more than twice as long as you’ve drawn breath?”

  Scarlett threw up her hands. “Henry, the next order is a double chicken-fried. It’s all yours.” She yanked the drying rag out of her apron and whirled away.

  Then whirled right back. “Don’t for a second think I don’t know what you’re trying to do, stomping around in your jackboots, Nana.”

  Ruby simply smiled. “I have no idea what you mean, sweet girl. Now you go get Melba and the quilters and tell them to come see me, too, so we can plan the rest of the menu.”

  “Ja wohl, Mein Fuhrer.” Scarlett snapped off a salute and stomped out.

  “I thought it would take at least another hour to get her out of here,” Jeanette said.

  “I was betting on two,” said Henry.

  “What are they talking about?” whispered the new waitress Chrissy to young Brenda.

  “It’s a long story,” Brenda replied. “Order up.”

  Ruby smiled as everyone went back to work, her eyes tracking her very pregnant granddaughter until Ian spotted her and leaped to his feet to go after her.

  Over Scarlett’s head he mouthed to Ruby, Thank you.

  Ruby nodded right back.

  “Why don’t you go to Ruby’s and lie down, sweetheart?” Ian asked.

  “I’m not setting foot in that dictator’s house for the foreseeable future,” she muttered. “And stop coddling me.”

  “I live to coddle you.” His dimple winked as he scooped her off her feet, ignoring her protests. “Mackey, swap seats with me.” His friend complied, and Ian deposited Scarlett on the booth seat, then dragged up a chair, propped her feet in his lap and removed her shoes to begin a foot massage.

  “Ian, stop that!” Her protest was half-hearted.

  He ignored her and turned to Michael. “So what do you plan to show Laken tomorrow? Would you like to ride horses, Laken?”

  Before she could answer, Scarlett spoke up. “Nobody’s riding tomorrow. Nana’s decided we need to celebrate Texas Independence Day. She’s putting the cabal together right now.”

  Ian grinned. “Tell Melba, and it’ll be all over town in five minutes.”

  “And now we have a radio station,” snickered Rissa.

  “There was mention of that, too,” Scarlett muttered.

  But her body was softening the longer he rubbed. She needed to stop working until the baby was born, but every time he made that suggestion, she practically snapped his head off.

  What they were going to do about the delayed opening of Ruby’s Dream, he had no idea—but something had to give. She was the love of his life, and she was working herself into an early grave right before his eyes.

  His dad watched him with sympathy. Gordon saw how exhausted she was when she dragged herself home each night.

  They needed more help, badly. Sweetgrass was growing, just as they’d wanted, thanks to Jackson’s company. Ruby’s Dream was not so crucial to keeping the town alive now. If he could just get her to let go of the idea, at least until she was back on her feet after the baby’s birth…

  He realized Mackey was signaling to him. He glanced down and saw that Scarlett was leaning against his dad’s arm, her eyes closed, even in the midst of all the noise and chaos.

  He wanted so damn bad to bundle her up and keep her safe.

  But what endangered her more than anything else was her own ambition and sense of duty.

  Everyone in Sweetgrass worked hard and contributed to the greater good, but no one worked harder than this woman who carried their family’s hopes and dreams in her tiny, delicate frame with the courage of a lion and the determination of an army.

  Around the curved booth he saw one person after another glance at his sleeping wife and back at him, acknowledgment in every gaze.

  Something had to change.

  Laughter at the next table woke Scarlett. She sat up, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed.

  Ian picked her up and settled her in his lap. “Please let me take you home. You’re exhausted.”

  “But Nana—” She looked toward the kitchen, and he glanced back, too.

  “Henry does a good job, you’ve told me so yourself. You trained him—don’t you trust him?”

  “I do, but there’s no one to do prep now and Nana—”

  “Let me help,” said a voice he didn’t recognize, then realized it was Laken. “I put myself through college working in restaurants.”

  “Oh, no, you’re a guest. I couldn’t—” protested Scarlett.

  Michael looked as surprised as the rest of them. Laken tapped at his shoulder. “Let me out, cowboy.”

  “I can help, too,” Rissa offered.

  “No!” they all cried in unison, and laughter broke out.

  “I’m good with a scalpel,” Michael offered. “I’ll go along.”

  “See what you’ve done?” Scarlett complained after they left.

  “I do, indeed,” Ian answered with a grin. “Laken just took her first step toward being a part of Sweetgrass. We just did Michael a solid.”

  “You didn’t know that would happen.”

  “No, but I’ll take it.” He rose with her in his arms. “Dad, let me know what I need to do for tomorrow. Mackey, you can give Dad a ride?”

  “Got it covered, bro.”

  Then, over Scarlett’s protests, Ian carried her through the dining room and outside.

  “I’d like to help,” Laken said to the tiny woman at the grill.

  “You any good?” Ruby asked.

  “I’m no chef, but I’ve done most every other job in a kitchen. I could help with prep or wash dishes or wait tables. Bus tables, too.”

  “Prep is where we need the help right now. Henry got us set up for a normal night, but seems like every last soul in Sweetgrass decided to show up tonight.” Ruby grinned. “Maybe they want to get a gander at you.”

  “Me?” Laken took a step back.

  “Folks think real highly of young Michael there. They’d like to see—”

  Michael stepped into the kitchen. “Ruby, are you trying to run her out of town before she makes it one night?”

  “Of course not.” Ruby eyed her. “Thought you had gumption to you. Seems to me a woman who competed out in there in your world shouldn’t be a shrinking violet. Am I wrong about you, girl?”

  Laken found herself torn between insult and amusement. “This little town doesn’t scare me.”

  Ruby arched one eyebrow. “Quaking in your stilettos is more like it.”

  “Ruby…” Michael groaned.

  Laken flashed him a grin. “She can’t play a player. I know a thrown gauntlet when I see one.” She glanced at Ruby’s sensible shoes. “I’ll handle everything you throw at me, and I’ll look real good doing it.”

  She and Ruby exchanged satisfied nods.

  “Where can I find an apron?”

  “Ruby, I’ll help, too,” Michael offered.

  “No, you go on back out there and referee if need be, since Ian’s not here.”

  “Referee what?”

  Ruby all but rolled her eyes. “Lanelda Baxter is going to insist that she bring Nita Benefield’s pound cake because she makes it better. Nita’s gonna get her nose out of joint
because she knows that’s true, not that she’ll admit it in a thousand years. Then there’s the perpetual argument over how much potato salad we’ll need and whether it should be made with a little dab of mustard or not.”

  Laken bit back a giggle. Never in her life had she expected to see Mr. Just-Take-A-Breath look panicked, but he did now.

  “Can’t I just help in here?”

  “Your brother is caring for his wife. You need to step up to the plate, Michael. You don’t want to embarrass Ian.”

  “Maybe I could go stay with Scarlett while Ian—” He huffed out a breath at Ruby’s shaking head. “All right, all right. I can do this. I’ll talk to Gordon and get his help.”

  “Speaking of Gordon, see if you can’t find out what’s got him acting like a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.”

  “Ruby…” His voice was nearly a whine, and Laken couldn’t stem her laughter.

  “Just…breathe, Michael,” she said with an extra dose of sweet. “You should just…be.”

  “Bite me,” he muttered as he left.

  “You might have potential, girl,” Ruby said. “Aprons are in that storage closet. Brenda, you show her how to bread more steaks.”

  “It doesn’t take a rocket scientist,” Laken noted.

  “The way we do it, it sure does. And don’t you go revealing my secret recipe, either.”

  “Ja wohl,” Laken said, snapping off a salute before turning to grab what she needed.

  “What is it with all the Hitler references tonight?” Ruby muttered.

  Henry caught Laken’s eye and winked.

  “I never thought a whimper could be so sexy,” Michael said as he helped Laken to his truck hours later.

  “I’m not whimpering.”

  “No, of course not.” He settled her on the seat and reached to slip off her heels.

  “I’ll never get them on again.”

  He picked up the closest foot and ran his thumb down the arch.

  “Ohmigod. I can’t decide whether to shriek or beg.”

  “Tell me again why you thought it important to work in the kitchen for five hours in stilettos?”

  “Penny does it. I saw her. She’s not tougher than me. Oh, god, never stop that. I’ll have to kill you if you quit.”