Texas Rebel: The Gallaghers of Sweetgrass Springs Book 4 (Texas Heroes: The Gallaghers of Sweetgrass Springs)

by Jean Brashear

  “I’m not done, young man. And then there’s Veronica.” Her blue eyes were fierce. “Surely you see how much trouble she’s in.”

  “I already offered,” he snapped.

  One eyebrow rose. “Offered what? Money?” Her tone made it clear that was the wrong answer.

  “She doesn’t want me anywhere around. She asked me to leave.”

  “And you’re listening? Good grief, Jackson, don’t you remember what it was like training horses, how they buck and stomp and kick, trying to send you away…until they know they can trust you?” Her brows drew together. “Why should she trust you? You left her. Walked away from her without a glance, same as you did all of us.”

  “I don’t have to take this from you.”

  Her brows rose halfway to her hairline. “What happened to Tell me what I can do for you, Aunt Ruby?”

  “I didn’t mean—” This.

  “You’ve been rich too long, young man, if you think throwing money at a problem is the best answer.”

  “It’s the only answer I have—” He realized he was nearly shouting and forced himself to moderate his tone. “Look, Aunt Ruby, I owe you a huge debt. You were there for me when no one else was—”

  “But—?” Her gaze was pure challenge.

  But…she was right. Money was no answer. What she’d given him was beyond price. Always he’d known that if no one else in the world loved him, if he fell flat on his face and lived out his life homeless, she would still love him steadfastly.

  He dropped his gaze to the floor and exhaled a sigh. “I despise how this place makes me feel. My dad still hates me and—”

  She approached and stroked his arm. “He doesn’t hate you, honey, near as much as he hates himself. But he’s gotten some better. You should see him with Eric. He’s even taken to Mackey, believe it or not. He blamed Mackey forever for leading you astray.”

  “Mackey never—well, mostly he didn’t encourage me to do anything I didn’t want to do.”

  “If your father didn’t love you so much, he wouldn’t behave so badly.”

  “Don’t try to sell me on him. It won’t work. That’s not love. You don’t beat someone you love into subjugation. You don’t take away their dreams.”

  “He needs time to adjust, honey. So do you. You’ve both written each other off, but you can’t do that forever. Still, you’ve had a lot thrown at you in a couple of days. Sit down and let me fix you breakfast, okay?”

  He shook his head. “I need to run.”

  “It’s so dark outside you’ll trip and break a leg. Come on now. Walk me over to the cafe and keep me company while I make biscuits. I’ll fix you some coffee.”

  “I’m leaving, Aunt Ruby. I don’t have any choice.”

  “Well, you need some breakfast then, don’t you? Come on, Jackson. Walk an old lady through the dark so she doesn’t trip and break something.”

  “You said you weren’t old,” he reminded her.

  “I say a lot of things.” She grinned. “Some of them are even true.”

  Help me by leaving, he heard Veronica say again as he sat in the kitchen eating. And brooding. Never in his life had he been so torn. He made decisions quickly, every day—he did not vacillate. Ever.

  Yet here he was, still in Sweetgrass, unable to walk away when back in Seattle all he’d worked so hard for was teetering.

  Then, thank God, Scarlett showed up. “Hi, Jackson,” his best friend’s bride greeted. “Good to see you. Up early to run?”

  “Couldn’t sleep, so that was my thought. Your grandmother had different ideas, though, so I’m eating breakfast instead.”

  She smiled. “Nana definitely has a mind of her own.”

  “Having you here is good for her.”

  “Same goes. I was so scared when I first got to Sweetgrass. I could never have imagined how things would turn out.”

  “Ian’s a good man. None better.”

  Her eyes went dreamy. “In my wildest fancies, I never imagined anyone like him.”

  You could practically see the lovebirds circling over her head, singing. “He seems real gone over you, too.”

  Her eyes filled. “He’s my world.”

  “So…why, exactly, did he have to trick you into marrying him?”

  She laughed. “Sometimes we get in our own way, you know? I had this notion that I needed to get the courthouse events center up and running first to please Nana.”

  He glanced over at Ruby. “She would take you on any terms, you know that, right?”

  “Yeah. I do.” Her brows snapped together. “That didn’t stop her conspiring against me.”

  He chuckled. “Or you conspiring against her. I’m sorry Maddie and Boone had to leave already. That Maddie must be something else.”

  “She is. And she is going to pay, I promise you.”

  He snorted. “You’re thrilled to be married.”

  “So?”

  “So remind me why you two aren’t on a honeymoon? Or Ruby and Arnie, either?”

  Scarlett shrugged. “Do I have to tell you what a magnetic place Sweetgrass is? It’s dangerously appealing. You get here and you never want to leave.”

  “I never had that problem.” Except…that voice…. Love strong enough to stay.

  You promised…then you left me.

  No. That had not happened. The legend was only a story. A notion for romantic fools.

  “We’ll get to a honeymoon. We just need to finish some things first.”

  “I have a place in Bali. Can’t you find a week?”

  “Bali? Seriously?”

  “I have a plane, too, that’s idle sometimes.”

  She stared off into the distance, but he could see the temptation. “Seriously? Jackson, I couldn’t—”

  “He was my best friend in the world. And I did him wrong,” Jackson admitted for the first time. “I did a lot of people wrong. Rissa. Pen…”

  “They still love you, all of them. They were afraid that something bad had happened, but they never stopped loving you.”

  Love was not a word used in his world. “I don’t know what to say.”

  She touched his arm. “Say you won’t disappear again.” Her tone lowered. “Not that you could, now that everyone knows you’re alive and not on the dark side of the moon.” She shook her head. “You’ve really accomplished some amazing feats, Sweetgrass Boy.” Her grin was quick. “I need to get to work,” she said, “But I am going to talk to Ian about Bali.” Her gaze went unfocused. “Sand, surf, sunshine…mmm…”

  “My place is right on the water. It’s blue-green and so beautiful your eyes will ache. In a good way.”

  She grinned. “Sex under the stars?”

  He chuckled. “All that and more. Romantic beyond whatever you might imagine.”

  Scarlett fanned herself. “You’re getting me all hot and bothered, cousin.”

  He snickered. “Yeah, but not like Ian does.”

  “Ian is…” She pressed her lips together. “This, with him…it’s so much more.” Her eyes shone bright with tears. “I love him more than I ever imagined loving anyone.” She glanced toward the grill. “I should…”

  “Go. Cook. And let me know when you want the plane and the beach house.”

  Before she left, Scarlett bent and kissed his cheek. “He’s missed you so much. Please don’t be a stranger.” Spontaneously she hugged him.

  Jackson had had so few hugs since he’d left this place. Only from Veronica’s girls and Aunt Ruby and now his newly-met cousin.

  Veronica’s girls… He stared off into the distance. Once he’d thought he and Veronica would have children together.

  You still could, a traitorous impulse prompted.

  Help me by leaving. Do I have to beg?

  Yeah…not so likely, that notion.

  They never stopped loving you.

  Surely you see how much trouble she’s in.

  Damn it. Jackson finished his meal and rose. Strode to Ruby’s side and kissed her cheek. “T
hank you. Even though you dragged me back to this place where I have too many memories of being a scared boy, I owe you, Aunt Ruby.” His voice tightened. “I love you so much. Thank you.” He hugged her.

  She hugged him back. “You’re a good boy, Jackson. Life hasn’t been fair to you, but you’ve succeeded despite the obstacles. I’m proud of you,” she said, hand on his cheek.

  He’d made so much money. Had obtained so much respect.

  Yet her words moved him in a way none of that had.

  “I do love you, Aunt Ruby. I’m going to make things right.” Somehow. One more hug, then he turned and left.

  But instead of going running, instead of packing up, he changed his clothes. Even made his bed in a manner his mom would have been proud of. He walked to the door and looked back. This room would fit inside his closet in Seattle. Or London or Singapore.

  But it felt, if not like home, more that way than he could remember experiencing in many years.

  Clad in unsuitable boots and too-expensive jeans, he headed out, resolved to stop by the feed store and obtain himself some decent work gloves, at least.

  Then he drove first to a quiet spot and pulled out the sat phone to dial Ty’s voicemail, glad for once that time zones would prevent a conversation he wasn’t eager to have.

  He hadn’t dodged a difficult conversation in years. He believed in attacking problems head-on.

  He’d have to with Veronica.

  Who would not be happy to see him still in town.

  Ty’s voicemail beeped for a message. “It’s Jackson. I won’t be back for a few days. I suck at the PR stuff and you’re great at it—you and I both know that. I’m depending on you to spin this and get us out of the mess. We know the problems have already been fixed. Make sure everyone knows that. I don’t care what you have to do—ship advance demos, pay to host a pre-release tournament in Seattle…whatever it takes.” He paused. “Look, I know you want me there, but…I can’t be. Not now. Not for a couple of days. And you know how to reach me.”

  Shoving away a sense of being irresponsible, he clicked off, made a U-turn and drove toward Veronica’s. When he pulled up, she was loading the girls onto the school bus.

  The girls waved madly. “Prince! Hi, Prince!”

  He couldn’t help chuckling. He waved at the girls and ignored their flabbergasted—and not at all happy—mother. Once the bus departed, he rolled down the window. “Want a ride back?”

  Veronica glared at him. “You said you were leaving.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “But what about—”

  “Get in, Veronica.”

  She looked down the road toward her house. Then she drew her eyes back to his. “What are you doing here, Jackson?”

  “Get in, and I’ll tell you.”

  Shoulders stiff, she complied. “I don’t like this.”

  “Tough.” He shoved the vehicle into gear and hit the gas. “You won’t take my money, then you get me.”

  “What if I don’t want you?” she shot back.

  He pulled into a spot in front of the first greenhouse. Glanced over. What had happened to the sweet, malleable girl he’d loved? “You’d actually turn down free labor? Can you afford to do that?”

  She winced, and he regretted the barb.

  But she drove him nuts. She was nothing like the girl he remembered.

  He was different, too, he admitted. Back then, he couldn’t have conceived of walking away from her.

  “I can take a couple more days,” he said softly. “Would you please let me help you? We don’t even have to talk about the past.”

  She looked over. “Not at all?”

  He wasn’t that eager to get into that discussion himself, however much he resented what she’d done.

  Clearly she resented his actions, too.

  “Not at all. Clean slate. Deal?” He extended a hand.

  She stared at his hand for a very long time, and he wondered what was going through her mind.

  As she continued to hesitate, he also wondered why the hell he had come.

  Then her small hand crept into his, her grip surprisingly strong. “Deal.” He could barely hear her.

  An incredibly foolish part of him wanted to kiss her. To hold her close. To somehow find their way back to—

  Her look forbade any of that.

  You wanted to help her, so help. He released her hand and opened his door. Slapped his thigh with the gloves. “So…what first?”

  For a moment, she seemed at a loss for an answer, then her face cleared. “It’s drudge work, Jackson. You hate ranch work.”

  “No talk of the past, remember? I’m just the hired help.”

  “Have you had breakfast, hired help?”

  “Yep. Ruby fed me well.”

  “All right, then. Let’s get cracking. Follow me.”

  She was thin and worn, but her behind was still amazing in jeans. Trailing her was no hardship.

  Though she would probably not be pleased knowing he thought so. He didn’t know this woman, this business owner, this…ranch wife. This wife of his friend.

  He was clearly insane. He could be back in Seattle, barking orders.

  Instead he was in the back of beyond.

  Taking them.

  Chapter Eight

  Over the next two days, Jackson surprised her. He’d always been driven to excel, and he’d never showed the tiniest hint of laziness, whatever his father had wanted to claim, but still…this work could not be fun for him. It sure wasn’t fun for her, not anymore. This was labor you had to be driven to do, had to love deeply, and even then…some days you just couldn’t waste any time thinking about what you were doing, or you’d run away screaming.

  But Jackson worked hard. He took so much off her shoulders, catching on quickly to what was needed and always applying the kind of precision and care he had to the software he’d created in high school.

  She didn’t understand him. Didn’t know what to think about any of this.

  But for the first time since David’s death, she actually went to bed at a decent hour each night.

  Alone, though.

  And uncomfortably aware of that.

  She wouldn’t claim not to admire the views he had of Jackson, that very fine physique encased in denim, powerful muscles flexing as he performed hard labor she couldn’t imagine him doing back in Seattle. Or London or Moscow or Beijing, all places he’d described to her when they were working in proximity to each other.

  She stifled her envy at how much traveling he’d done. They didn’t talk a lot, but she’d found herself sitting with him for a few minutes here and there, as they’d taken a break or she’d joined him in a lunch far better than what she’d prepare for herself.

  He brought food from the cafe, and he forced her to eat it, when she was accustomed to carrying an apple with her or a quick crackers-and-peanut butter snack. She was seldom hungry, yet somehow Jackson tempted her with this treat and that, things Scarlett must have produced, for they were beyond Ruby’s wonderful but homespun fare.

  Taste-testing for the new place, he’d called it. Scarlett wants feedback.

  It was amazing, what her friend came up with, food unlike anything Veronica had ever experienced.

  But clearly Jackson had, from the stories he’d shared. She wanted to hate him for seeing all those places without her. Sometimes she did.

  But she was just so hungry for a glimpse of the world she’d desperately wanted to experience firsthand.

  And then there were the evenings with her children…

  “Penny for your thoughts,” he said.

  She jolted from her reverie and stroked Boo to buy time. “They’re not worth it.”

  He glanced at her hand. Dug his own fingers into the dog’s ruff and made Boo groan with ecstasy. “I’ve thought about getting a dog.”

  “Why don’t you have one? You always loved yours.”

  His vivid blue eyes glanced up. “Smoky was great, wasn’t he?”

 
She recalled the old German shepherd who’d loved all the Gallagher kids, but Jackson’s was the bed he slept on.

  “He looked so fierce,” she recalled. “But he was the sweetest old guy to me. Once you—” She choked off the rest. “I’m sorry.” She concentrated on Boo, stroking his fur over and over. Her hand brushed Jackson’s, and she stilled. Hesitated.

  “Once I left?” he asked gently. “Did you see him after I was…gone?”

  She looked away. Rose quickly. “I have work to do.”

  He rose, as well. “Veronica, I—”

  “Don’t—” she snapped. “Don’t go there, Jackson. I’ll have to ask you to leave if you do.”

  She sounded like the worst kind of witch, being so curt with him when he probably went back to Ruby’s at night, sore and more weary than ever before—all for the sake of helping her.

  But she would literally shatter if they ever talked about what had happened.

  It was all she could do to hold that tidal wave in abeyance. It had been the worst time in her life—worse than being beaten by her father, worse even than after David died.

  She was awful to say that. She hated herself for feeling it.

  But it was true. Jackson had eviscerated her.

  A part of her felt that nothing he could ever do would make up for that betrayal, slicing her, as it had, to the core. Making her hurt as she never wanted to hurt again. She’d been numb at first, but as the days went by and he never reached out to tell her he was all right, to explain, to tell her where she could meet him…

  She would be sick if she let herself dwell on it anymore.

  “Veronica—” he called out.

  She quickened her steps and escaped to the greenhouse farthest from where he stood.

  So what did he do now? How did he handle her?

  The last two days had been idyllic….that is, if anyone in his right mind would call it idyllic having every muscle in his body act as though he’d never worked out, as if he were a soft piece of dough being pummeled by the fists of the workload Veronica had been carrying all on her own.

  Wimp, a part of him derided. You run ten miles a day. You work out with weights every other day. You’ve done martial arts training.

  And one farm full of flowers defeats you?