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

by Jean Brashear

  “You got it.” He escorted Ben to the bathroom in the hallway. Stood outside while he took care of business. He heard a clatter against the sink. “Ben? You okay?”

  “Sort of.”

  “You have to know I’m itching to help. Want me to?”

  “I guess so.”

  He opened the door. Ben was struggling out of his shirt, balancing against the sink. “Do I seriously have to take a bath? That’s for girls.”

  “Pretend it’s a hot tub full of babes.”

  Ben snickered. “Nice. I’m sure Mom would appreciate that.” His gaze sharpened. “Where is she?”

  “Sleeping on the sun porch.”

  Ben’s gaze scanned him, eyes narrowing.

  Jackson felt like the kid here. He glanced down and nearly groaned when he realized his shirt was on inside out.

  Ben took a breath and started to speak.

  “I want to help your mom. To take care of her. To protect her.” It was awkward, discussing this with her son. “I love her. That bother you?”

  Ben studied him for a long time. “I’m not sure.”

  He should have expected that, he guessed. “I want the best for her. If I’m a problem, then I’ll go.”

  Ben grimaced. “I don’t know what you are.”

  “Me, either.” He decided on honesty. “But I know what I want to be.”

  “Yeah? What?”

  “I want to be the man who takes care of all of you.”

  Ben looked very young at that moment. “My dad…”

  “I don’t expect to replace him. I know I can’t. David was a good man. The best.”

  “Yeah,” Ben answered. “He was.”

  This must be an odd version of asking a girl’s father for permission to court her. He hadn’t felt this inadequate in a long time. “I don’t even know if your mom wants… We have a history that…” His turn to grimace. “It’s complicated.” He caught Ben’s eyes. “I know I have to earn her trust, but I will. Whatever it takes. She’s the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

  “Wow. She know that?”

  “Not yet. I just figured that out about ten seconds ago.”

  Amusement lit Ben’s eyes, so much like his mother’s. “Good luck with your sales pitch.”

  “You mean that?”

  Ben didn’t answer quickly. “Yeah. I think I really do. She needs someone.”

  “I don’t want to be just…someone.” He wanted to be everything, though he would never be that, not when her first loyalty had to be to these fatherless children.

  “I don’t think you are,” Ben said. He wobbled a little and grabbed for the sink edge.

  Enough talking. “Let me help you—if that’s okay.”

  “Yeah. If I could just hold onto you…”

  “Would you rather I got your mom?”

  Ben snorted. “Would you, in my place?”

  Jackson chuckled. “Uh…no.”

  He helped Ben strip off his shirt and the rest of his clothes, then gingerly assisted him into the bath, focusing on keeping that ankle dry.

  Ben twisted his torso—

  Jackson’s mind balked. He nearly dropped the boy.

  “Hey—”

  He recovered, still stunned by an image he could not process.

  Ben had a birthmark. On his lower back.

  One Jackson had only seen once before, many years ago, when he was helping his dad on a hot day, and his dad had stripped off his shirt after a cow had bled all over it. A quarter moon shape that ran in the males of his family, he learned later.

  Every other generation.

  What—

  How—

  Disbelief echoed—

  But the bricks of denial fell, one by one, in a loud clatter—

  “You okay?”

  Jackson was reeling.

  No…way.

  “Hey—”

  Quickly he yanked himself back to the present, to the boy who needed his help—

  “I’ll leave you to it—that is, will you be okay?”

  “Uh, yeah. I think I can manage to wash myself.” Ben seemed embarrassed to have him here. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  No.

  He wasn’t sure he’d ever be all right. His gaze ranged over Ben’s frame, paying closer attention to how he wasn’t built like the stockier, shorter David and not like Tank, who was tall but beefy.

  Ben’s hair was nearly black. Like his own.

  His eyes were hazel, though. Like his mother’s.

  And his frame was very much like…

  Jackson could almost see himself in the mirror when he was sixteen.

  Then there was that birthmark…

  Rage and disbelief struggled with hurt so huge…

  She’d married David so fast. She hadn’t waited for him, and Jackson had given up as soon as he knew.

  He helped Ben out when he was done, got him settled back in his room.

  Seething every second. He wanted to charge down the stairs.

  Yank the woman out of bed. Tear down walls. Punch his fist through one of them.

  You lied to me.

  You stole him from me.

  Then Jackson heard her talking to the girls across the hall and knew he couldn’t see her yet. Knew he had to get out of here.

  But he wasn’t going far, not now. Not until he made her tell him what the hell—

  Beth’s sweet voice made him grab hold of his anger, his outrageous hurt.

  How could you?

  I loved you.

  He pressed his forehead against the wall. Struggled to think, to calm, to…breathe.

  He would go outside. Away where he couldn’t say what was boiling up inside. Keep himself busy until the twins were on the bus and safely away.

  He turned to go. Cast one more glance at the closed bedroom door as though x-ray vision would allow him to see the boy inside.

  The math wizard.

  The tall, rangy athlete.

  His…son.

  I have a son.

  Grief gripped his heart in a savage fist.

  And I’ve missed his entire life.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Veronica got the twins settled in with breakfast, then zipped upstairs for a quick shower, avoiding Ben’s speculative stares. He couldn’t know what she’d done…

  But she still had on the same clothes. The same ones as last night when…

  She could feel the blush rising at the thought of what they’d shared, she and Jackson.

  Making love. With Jackson.

  I love you, he’d said. I never stopped. She’d said it, too. Part of her wanted to sigh like a lovestruck girl.

  The mother wanted to hide until she wrestled her unease under control.

  The girls chattered on, blissfully unaware, but even after having been assured by Ben that he was clean and needed only breakfast, her mind wasn’t eased. Her bright boy suspected…something.

  She was surprised not to feel that she’d betrayed David. She should have been wrecked by her guilt, tormented by the knowledge that she was putting him in the past.

  No. Not that. Never that. He was and would always remain a living, vital part of her.

  So what to do about Jackson? How to accommodate the enormity, the bliss of what she’d experienced in his arms? In many ways, it was like coming home, like finding that special place she’d thought forever lost.

  But it wasn’t home. Here was home. These children were home.

  Jackson had never wanted to belong in Sweetgrass, and though he’d woven himself into the fabric of her torn and hurting family, she had no reason to think anything would change on that score.

  Even if a treacherous part of her couldn’t help but hope. If he’d been half as moved by what they’d shared last night…

  He’d been so tender, even as he’d wielded magic like a sorcerer. He’d plied her body with skillful fingers, drawn from her bliss she’d never known—

  But his hands had trembled, just as hers
had. His eyes had gone vulnerable, unlike the dominating man she’d seen him as since his return.

  She’d felt…cherished. Honored. Desired…oh, yes. The power of his hunger had sizzled over her every last nerve. She’d felt her own rising from deep within her, a heat, a need…but also…a yearning.

  He took her breath away.

  “Mom?”

  She crashed back to earth. Shoved her feet into her shoes and hurried into Ben’s room. “Yes?”

  “Do you think Jackson would ever stay?”

  She blinked. “Would you want him to?”

  “I think we all would,” he said, eyeing her speculatively.

  “Honey, you know, your father…I haven’t forgotten him.” Except, she thought, stricken. He’s not—yet he was. David was Ben’s father in so many important ways. Unforgettable ways.

  She put a hand to her throat. She knew she had to tell Jackson, and it would be hard.

  But how did she explain to this boy who was trying to become a man?

  “I loved David. I still do.”

  “But you and Jackson have a past, don’t you?”

  “Who told you that?”

  He shrugged. “It’s okay, Mom. I mean, I don’t know why you thought you had to keep him a secret, except—”

  “Except what?”

  He shook his head. “Jackson wouldn’t tell me about your past. He said it was your story to share…or not.” He eyed her again. “But he swore Uncle Tank never hurt you.”

  She gasped. “Why would you think that?”

  “I hear things. People talk about why he’s such a bastard.”

  “Benjamin Butler, your uncle is not—you don’t call him that.”

  “Why not? Sometimes he is. Lots of times.”

  She sank to the foot of his bed. “Honey, the girls are too young to hear this.” She inhaled. “I really don’t want to tell you, either.”

  “But you will.”

  “I guess I have to,” she sighed. “You need to know your uncle is not a bad man.” She swallowed hard. Composed herself to be clinical and factual. “My father—our father—was a hard man. I don’t know why. I never did. But he would fly into these rages and—”

  “He beat you?” Ben’s voice cracked. “Seriously, Mom? Why didn’t you turn him in? He can’t do that. The cops would have stopped him.”

  All her careful distance fled. She sagged against the footboard and stared at her tangled fingers, knuckles white. “I don’t…it’s not easy to explain, Ben. When you’re trapped inside that space, you don’t see it the way others would. It’s not…” She finally met his gaze. “It’s not so simple. You grow up in a place where you understand only that you’re never…safe. That you have no idea what will set that person off. That you must always be very, very careful.”

  “What did your mom do? Why didn’t she stop him?”

  How often had she wondered that? Prayed for that, at least until she got older and understood that it would never happen. “Honey, you can’t know what it’s like—and I’m glad you can’t. You’ve been raised with love, and you’ve never been afraid, but…not everyone has that.”

  “He hurt you, Mom? How bad?” His young voice hardened. “I’d kill him if he were here now. I hate him.” Every muscle in his body tensed.

  She took his fist. Eased it open. “I’m fine now.”

  “But how could—why didn’t Jackson stop him?”

  “Because I never admitted it to him. I didn’t want him confronting my father, and he would have. I was terrified of what my father would do to him.” She exhaled. “That’s how it works, the family doesn’t talk. And if your Uncle Tank hadn’t stepped in between him and my mother and me…that’s why he’s so hard, Ben. He took the blows meant for us. He protected us—even when he was a boy, he tried to.”

  “I would have, too.” His eyes burned, and she saw him blink back angry tears. “I would have protected you.”

  “I know.” She touched his arm. “I know you would have. Jackson would have, too.”

  “Did my dad know?”

  She shook her head. “I couldn’t risk him. He would have gone after my father, but he could never fight that man.”

  “Dad was strong. He was no coward.”

  “Of course he wasn’t, but he was too good. Anyway, my father left me alone as soon as I was with David. He tried to keep my mother from knowing you, and she would never buck him. I wanted to help her get away, and I tried, but…she wouldn’t go.”

  “I’m glad he’s dead,” Ben growled.

  “I wish I weren’t, but…me, too.”

  Ben swiped at his eyes with one fist. Gripped her hand hard with the other. “I’m going to thank Uncle Tank.”

  “I don’t know if he’ll talk about it.” She smiled. “But having you say that would probably help him, regardless.”

  His face was ravaged.

  “It’s all in the past, honey. I’m fine, I promise.”

  “I don’t know how you could be.”

  “I had love to heal me.” She heard the girls clattering up the stairs, getting ready for the bus. “I’d better go see to them. And you’d better get some rest. Back to school soon.” She bent and kissed his hair. “I’m really okay now, Ben. I promise.”

  “Someone should have been there for you.”

  She thought of Tank. Of Jackson, her first experience with love. Of David.

  “Someone was.” She smiled as she left the room.

  “The girls asked me to say goodbye. Ben’s napping. Thank you for letting me sleep,” Veronica said when she found Jackson outside, repairing a leaking faucet.

  He kept his gaze averted, his hands busy.

  She felt suddenly shy, unsure how to deal with last night. “Jackson, about…” Did she really want to discuss it?

  No. It was too new. Too close to the bone. She wanted to savor, not dissect. Every moment had been…precious. Words were inadequate.

  Still not a word from him. He hadn’t even looked up.

  Her heart sank. He regretted what they’d done. She should have known. She’d felt so close to him, so undone by the bliss, so suffused with the glory of their joining. She’d thought—

  But his shoulders were rigid.

  “It doesn’t have to mean anything,” she said, her heart crumbling. “If you’re sorry, I don’t expect you to…” She’d awakened with such hope.

  He rose slowly. Turned to her.

  “Jackson?” He was a stranger now, a harsh, cold expression she’d never seen from him. Fear invaded with jackboots. “What’s wrong?”

  “Were you ever going to tell me?”

  Her heart thudded to a stop. She swallowed hard.

  But she didn’t ask him what he meant. “How could you know?” she whispered.

  “Why does it matter? You didn’t tell me. Why not? Is that why you married David so fast?” He looked away, jaw muscle flexing. “Of course it was.”

  “What was I to do? You weren’t here. You left without one word.”

  His head whipped to hers. “You think I wouldn’t have stayed if I’d known? You never gave me a chance, Veronica.”

  “You left me!” The cry tore from her throat. “I didn’t know I was pregnant until after you vanished, but what did that matter? You didn’t care enough even to leave me a note!”

  “You could have found me.”

  “How? I didn’t have any money. I had no idea where you’d gone. I didn’t want to believe you had so little thought for me that—”

  “I thought of you every day, every night. Every minute.”

  “So why didn’t you come back for me as you promised?”

  “You were married. To someone else.”

  “I loved you!” she shouted. “I needed you! But you didn’t care. You just walked away and left me behind like I was nothing.”

  “Anytime, Veronica. Anytime in the last seventeen years, you could have looked for me. Found me. Told me.” Every beat was an accusation.

  “I didn’t
want to, all right? David was a good father. The best. And you—”

  “I would have been a good father!” he shouted right back. “I would have done everything—anything—to make you happy. To make him happy, to—”

  “You. Left. Me,” she said fiercely. “You knew where I was. You could have checked.”

  “I did check.” He glanced away, and guilt betrayed him. “But I couldn’t bear to hear about you, not after you took David to your bed, to your heart. Ruby said you were happy and—” He raised ravaged eyes to hers. “I hated that. I hated that you cared so little. That I meant so little. That you could just forget me.”

  Stinging, seething silence.

  “I never forgot you,” she whispered. “I tried, though.” Her heavy heart sank even more. “I tried very hard.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me after I came back?” Now his voice was broken. “I’ve been here for days.”

  “How did you figure it out?”

  “This morning, he needed help in the bath.” He glanced at the ground, jaw tight. “He has a birthmark just like my father’s. It runs in my family.”

  She gasped, and his gaze whipped up. Accused. “Would you ever have told me?”

  “I tried to yesterday at the hospital. I knew I had to.”

  “But you didn’t want to, did you?”

  “I did want to. He thinks you’re amazing. He would have been so proud….but he loved David so much, too. I…”

  “He would have been so proud? You’re not going to tell him?”

  She swallowed hard. “Yes, but—”

  “When?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t want him to hate me.” She buried her face in her hands.

  He exhaled. “Vee…” She heard him approach.

  At the same time they both heard a gasp from the back door neither had heard open. “He’s…my father?” The suddenly very young voice broke. “You didn’t think I should know that?”

  “Honey, I—” She whirled. Started toward him.

  “Ben, wait—”

  “Go to hell, both of you!” Awkwardly Ben wheeled away, stumbling against the doorframe on his crutches.

  Jackson’s phone rang as he grabbed for the screen door. He clicked it off without even looking. He allowed her through first as they followed Ben.

  His text tone sounded.