Texas Roses (The Devil's Horn Ranch Series)

by Samantha Christy

  “No, I do. I want to hear all of it.”

  “Well then” —she tops off our wine— “settle in, because I have a lifetime of things to tell you.”

  I wake up in a strange bed. I roll over and peruse the room. Would this have been my room had I grown up here? I sit up, my heart still heavy, but at least I feel like I can get out of bed today. The only thing that got me out of bed the past few days was knowing I had to get home. To my friends. Tag. My house and the memories of Dad.

  The smell of food draws me downstairs. On the dining room table are stacks of pancakes, a large platter of eggs, and enough bacon and sausage to feed an army. I turn the corner into the kitchen. “How much do you think I’m going to eat?” I stop when I see Hailey, Griff, and Charlie.

  Piper takes a pitcher of juice to the table. “They like to sleep at Hailey’s, but she can’t cook worth anything.”

  Griff sees the photo albums we left out last night. “Jeez, Mom. You didn’t subject her to all those, did you?”

  “She did,” I say. “And I’ve never seen a more adorable pee-wee quarterback.”

  He rolls his eyes and fills his plate with eggs.

  Mason comes in from the garage. “Hey, Amber. Nice to see you.”

  “You too.”

  We all sit and eat breakfast as if it’s something we’ve done a thousand times before. Nobody tiptoes around me or goes out of their way to do things. In fact, Charlie complains that I took the last pancake. I try to give it back, but she laughs and pulls out two she was hiding in her lap.

  Mason and Piper talk about an upcoming social gathering. Griff says he wants to get a job mowing lawns to make extra money.

  It’s all so perfectly normal.

  And for the first time, I realize how much I like it.

  Piper sees me smiling and smiles back. We broke a lot of ground last night. Got into new territory. Connected in a way we never have before. And now, sitting here, I feel a part of something. Part of a family. A family I didn’t even know I wanted to be a part of.

  Then the smile fades when I remember the other family I wanted to be a part of. The family that can never be. Because at this very moment, Josie could be waking up in a strange crib, at a strange house, with strangers watching her.

  “You okay?” Piper asks.

  I nod.

  “You can stay as long as you like.”

  “I have to go home today. I’ve been away long enough.”

  She wipes her mouth, gets up from the table, and hands me a big box that was sitting on the hutch.

  “What’s this?” I ask.

  “Something I made for you. Open it.”

  I take off the lid and see one of my father’s shirts. Confused, I pull it out of the box and realize the shirt is part of a quilt.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” Piper says. “I took the liberty of taking some of your dad’s shirts out of the boxes we packed a few months ago. I thought you should have something to remember him by.”

  Memories bombard me as my hand runs over the various shirts. His favorite scrub tops. The Hawaiian shirt he got on vacation. Some golf shirts. An old T-shirt that reads ‘When in doubt, cut it out.’ He did love stupid surgeon memes. I can almost smell him even though they’ve clearly been laundered. “I don’t know what to say. This is amazing. I’ll treasure it always. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” She puts a motherly hand on my shoulder before stacking some dirty plates.

  I help clear the dishes, as does everyone. It’s a family effort to clean up. It’s not even a chore. They make it seem fun. And I know I won’t be waiting another ten years to knock on their door.

  Piper follows me out. “How are Fridays for you?”

  “Fridays?”

  “To get together and have lunch. A standing reservation. We can alternate weeks. One week I’ll go to Calloway Creek, and the next you can come to the city. Unless you think I’m being too pushy. But I have to say, last night was one of the best nights of my life. I don’t want to lose that.”

  “Like I said, I think I need a little pushy. And Fridays sound great.”

  “I’ll come to you next week. Does noon work? We can eat in, and you’ll show me those photo albums.”

  “Perfect.”

  “Amber?” she says as I go through the door. “Thank you for coming here and trusting me with your feelings. It’s a gift I’ll always cherish.”

  “No, thank you,” I say, walking down the front steps. I turn back and watch her retreat into the house. “Mom,” I whisper under my breath.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Quinn

  Josie’s cries wake me but I don’t care. I couldn’t give a shit if she wakes me at five in the morning, because she’s here. And she’s mine. I roll to the edge of the bed and gaze proudly at her in the portable crib I set up on the floor. “Morning, JoJo. It’s hard to sleep well in a strange place, isn’t it?” I pick her up and pull her onto my chest. I put a hand on her diaper and gently bounce her against me. She almost always goes back to sleep when I do it. After she drifts off, I carefully put her on the bed next to me and watch her sleep.

  Then I eye the empty space beyond her, wishing Amber was filling it.

  There’s a soft knock on the door, and Sophie pops her head in. “Want me to take her?” she whispers.

  “She fell back to sleep. But can you stay with her for a while?”

  She crosses the room and sits on the bed. “Yeah, sure. I know you have a lot to do.”

  “I can’t thank you enough for your help. Seriously, Sophie, you’ve gone way above and beyond. The raise I gave you doesn’t seem like enough.”

  She laughs quietly. “It is. And you’re the best boss I’ve ever had.”

  “Thanks.”

  I grab a shirt and head to the living room. I glance around the house, knowing I may not even be welcome here, but it’s a chance I had to take. Noise from the kitchen has me investigating. Tag is up and is making coffee.

  “Hey.”

  He turns and lifts his chin. “Morning.”

  “Any word from her?” I ask.

  “She texted me late last night. I didn’t want to wake you. She stayed the night at Piper’s house in the city.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief. Neither of us were sure if she was even coming back here after she failed to show up yesterday. Three days is the longest it should take anyone to make the drive from Texas to New York. Unless they weren’t in any hurry to get home. Unless they didn’t want to come home at all.

  Josie, Sophie, and I arrived yesterday. When I couldn’t get a hold of Amber on Tuesday, I called Tag. He knew she left Texas. And he knew why. What he didn’t know was that I still had Josie, and I had every intention of having Amber too. After filling him in, we devised a plan. I’d fly up here and try and get her back.

  Telling her over the phone that I kept Josie wasn’t something I wanted to do. That’s a conversation two people need to have in person. But after having days to think about it, I wonder if I did the wrong thing. What if she only takes me back because of Josie? What if she doesn’t want me at all—just her?

  If Amber doesn’t want to be with me, though, I wouldn’t change my mind about having a daughter. Wow. Even hearing myself think the word daughter is wild. But for two days now, it’s exactly what she’s been. And I’m her dad. In the airport, people complimented me on how beautiful my daughter was. The flight attendant asked if there was anything she could do to make the flight more pleasant for my daughter. And the woman across the aisle told me I was a good father after she saw me with Josie on the long flight. Sophie helped, of course. I still can’t believe she agreed to come up here with me. But the last thing I wanted for Josie was to have a new stranger helping care for her.

  So here we all are, in Amber’s house—thanks to Tag and his spare key—waiting to see how or if our lives are going to change. Last night after we arrived, Tag and I moved Amber’s things into the main bedroom. It wasn’t that hard since Ben’
s stuff had been cleared out before the funeral. I want her to feel at home here. I want her to have happy memories of the past. And I hope it’s a place where we can build a future.

  “Did she say when she’d be back?” I ask.

  He taps out a text. “Asking now.” He puts his phone down. “Coffee?”

  “Please.” I open a cabinet, remembering where she keeps the mugs. He pours me a cup and we sit at the kitchen table. “How do you think this is going to go down? Be honest.”

  “Amber hates surprises. Always has. She’ll be pissed at me for being a part of this. She’ll feel set up. Blindsided.”

  “Jeez—don’t hold back.”

  “Let me finish. She’s also one of the smartest people I know. And when she gets over herself, she’ll realize how much she wants this.”

  “This?” I glance to the bedroom where Josie is still sleeping. “Or me?”

  “Well, you come as a package deal, I presume.”

  “But do you think she’ll want me as part of the package?”

  “Quinn, I’ve known Amber forever. I’ve never heard her talk about another guy the way she talks about you. Never seen her look at a man the way she looks at you. But you know as well as I do that she thinks you’ll leave. Or get cancer or Alzheimer’s. Or hell, get hit by a bus. She’s got deep wounds that aren’t going to heal the minute she sees you. Being a strong independent woman is a façade. She’s really just a fragile little girl trying to find her place in the world.”

  “Well, she’s found it. I’m her place.”

  “I hope so, man. I hope so.” His phone pings. “It’s her. She’ll be here in two hours.”

  I stand and wash out my cup. “I’m taking a shower. Is there someplace you can take Josie and Sophie so I can talk to Amber alone?”

  “My place is only a few minutes away. You can text me if you want us to come back over.”

  An hour later, the three of them leave. I pace the living room, nervous as hell. I can’t just sit here and wait. I walk out the front door and look down the street. Amber’s house is close to a shopping area. I specifically remember a flower shop from when Piper was talking about it for Ben’s funeral. I shut the front door and walk in that direction.

  The bells over the door chime when I enter. A little girl runs out from the back. She can’t be more than four or five. “Hi,” she says. “You want flowers?”

  “I do. But aren’t you a little young to be running things around here?”

  “I’m a ’prentice,” she says.

  A woman comes around the corner, carrying a huge armload of flowers. “You mean apprentice, Gigi.”

  I trot over when she looks like she might lose her grip. “Let me help.” We put the flowers on the counter.

  “Thanks.” She extends her arm. “I’m Maddie. And this is Gigi.” Her long sleeve rides up, revealing a bad scar that looks like a burn. She quickly pulls the sleeve down to cover it.

  I avert my eyes from her arm and glance at her daughter. “Ah, so she’s the Gigi in ‘Gigi’s Flower Shop’?”

  “Sort of. Not really. Long story.”

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you both. I’m Quinn.”

  She appraises me. “You’re not from around here.”

  “No, ma’am. I’m from Texas.”

  Her mouth closes, then opens, then closes again. “So you’re the cowboy who was the buzz of the town a few months ago.”

  “Ma’am?”

  “Quit with the ma’am stuff. I’m only twenty-six. You can call me ma’am when I turn sixty.”

  I laugh. “Okay, Maddie. You were saying?”

  “You’re Amber’s friend. The one who came for the funeral and who she disappeared with for the past two months.”

  “I guess I am.”

  “Shame about Ben. Amber’s father was a good man. He’ll be missed. Are you here for good?”

  “I’m about to find that out.”

  She smiles. “Ahh, and you need flowers to go with the ring.”

  “What? No. No ring.”

  She shrugs. “Darn. A lot of people around here think it’s about time Amber found herself a man and settled down.”

  “Is that so?”

  She leans in and whispers, “Broke up more than a few marriages, that one.”

  “Did she now?”

  “In her defense, the three bastards never told her they were married.”

  Gigi skips over. “What’s a bastard?”

  “Nothing, sweetie. How about we help this nice man find some flowers?”

  Gigi appraises me, her index finger tapping her lip like she’s thirty-four, not four. “Are they love flowers?” she asks. “Or did you do something bad?”

  “I suppose I need love flowers.”

  She takes my hand and pulls me over to the roses. “Then you have to give her roses. Right, Mommy? Roses are love flowers. Red roses. Lots and lots. The more you buy, the more you love her.”

  I laugh and turn to the girl’s mother. “You’ve got quite the little entrepreneur here.”

  She shakes her head. “You have no idea.”

  “I guess I’ll take two dozen then, Gigi. Do you think it’s enough?”

  She shrugs her small shoulders. “Umm… maybe.”

  “Let’s make it three,” I say. I pull out my credit card and give it to her. She happily skips it over to her mom.

  “Just so you know,” Maddie says after she’s finished with my card, “not much happens in Calloway Creek that everyone doesn’t get wind of, especially here along the circle. We may be on the larger side of most towns, but that doesn’t mean we don’t know a lot about each other’s business.”

  I tuck my receipt into my pocket. “Noted.”

  She wraps the three bundles of roses separately to make them easier for me to carry.

  “Maddie, I have a question.”

  Her brow arches.

  “If everybody knows everyone’s business around here, how did Amber not know they were married?”

  “I said we know a lot; not everything. Anyway, two of them were from the city. Amber pretty much tapped out most of the eligible bachelor population in Calloway Creek.”

  I blow out a long breath.

  “Don’t you worry about it,” she says. “She never gave one of them a second look. Everyone knows she’s not that type. Or she wasn’t until now.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Gigi runs ahead of me and holds the door open. “Bye, mister.”

  “Call me Quinn. It was nice to meet you, Gigi. I hope I’ll be seeing you around.”

  “Do you have a little girl I can play with?”

  It’s hard not to smile. Because yes, I do have a little girl. “I do, but she’s not old enough to play yet. Maybe in a year or two.”

  Maddie stares. I can almost see the cogs turning in her brain. And I get the feeling the rumor mill is about to be in full swing. I hold up the flowers. “Let me do this first,” I say. “You know, so everyone else doesn’t beat me to the punch?”

  “Go get your girl,” she says.

  “Go get ’er,” Gigi says. “And be real, real nice. Kiss her right here.” She points to her temple. “Mommy likes it when boys kiss her there. She says it’s ’mantic.”

  “You mean romantic,” Maddie says, turning red. “And boys don’t kiss me there. It was just a conversation we had once. You know what? Forget it.”

  I chuckle. “Thanks for the tip, Gigi. I’ll be sure to do that.”

  “Bye!” Gigi yells after me as I stroll away.

  I turn and wave with one of the bunches of flowers.

  With my arms full of roses, I get more than a few awkward glances. As in, people stop what they’re doing and blatantly watch me. “Morning,” I say to some as I pass.

  Two women coming out of a coffee shop whisper to each other. Another walking a dog turns and stares. A couple emerges from the bookstore, and the woman asks her partner why he never gets her flowers.

  Maybe walking here wasn’t
such a good idea after all. I hurry my stride, wanting to get back in case Amber shows up early. I sure hope she doesn’t stop here on her way. I’d hate for someone to say anything and ruin the surprise.

  Is it a surprise, I wonder, or like Tag said, am I blindsiding her?

  Back at her house, I find two vases and put two bundles of the flowers in them. I put one on the bar and another on the table. The third bunch, I hold on my lap. After fifteen minutes, I start pacing again and look out the window. After thirty, I text Tag to see if he’s had an update. He hasn’t.

  When a car pulls into the driveway, I race to the couch and pick up the roses. Then I stand to the side of the front door. I can see her out the window, but she can’t see me. She exits the car and studies the house. She probably misses her dad. She sighs and goes to the mailbox. I stiffen when a neighbor talks to her from across the street. I hope it wasn’t someone who saw me in town. They talk for a moment, then she approaches the door, fishing through her purse for the keys.

  I open the door before she gets to it. She stands at the bottom of the porch stairs as if trying to figure out if I’m real. I hold up the flowers. “Took you long enough,” I say.

  “Quinn. Why are you here?”

  “For you. I’m here for you, Amber.”

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Amber

  He’s standing in the doorway to my house. With roses.

  What do I do?

  Part of me wants to jump into his arms. The other part is already wondering when the other shoe will drop. He came after me. It’s all a little too perfect.

  “Did Tag let you in?” I shake my head. “I’ll kill him.”

  “He did. But it’s not his fault. I didn’t give him a choice.”

  I walk past him and sit on the couch, still exhausted from the long drive. “You fly up here, come to my house with flowers, being all romantic. So now what? You expect me to follow you back to Texas? This is my home.”