But he was looking at Scarlett like a buddy.
He looked at Rissa with a different glint in those green eyes.
As he was doing now, she realized. Heat rose, and she had the horrifying suspicion that she might be blushing. She frowned at him, and he laughed.
She turned on her heel and walked away to stare out the window toward the spring.
Love strong enough to stay… You never got that either, did you? She said silently to The Lady of the legend.
Ian pulled up out front. Soon she heard his voice at the door, and Mackey’s low rumble greeted him.
“I shouldn’t tease,” Scarlett said from behind her.
Rissa shrugged but didn’t turn.
“Mackey looks better. You’re good for him.”
“Has nothing to do with me.”
Scarlett stepped into her field of vision. “Then why does he make you blush? And how come he can’t take his eyes off you?”
Rissa shifted irritably. “Mackey’s a player, always has been. Ten times worse now, I bet. All those actresses and such.”
“I’m sorry.” Scarlett touched her arm. “I’m badgering you again. I don’t know why I do that.”
“He says we’re too much alike.”
Scarlett smiled. “Might be more truth than fiction to that. Of course I’m much nicer.”
Rissa snorted.
“Seriously, Rissa, thank you. I know you’re probably bored with this tour, but it means a lot to have you here. Thank you for coming.”
“I’m not bored. Exactly.”
Scarlett burst out laughing. “Be still, my heart. An almost-compliment.”
Rissa frowned. “What do you expect? Not my business what you do. Don’t know why you’d care what I think.”
“Because we’re family. It matters. You matter. I’ve been alone for a long time.”
So have I, Rissa thought, and looked at her cousin with new eyes. “It’s…” She glanced around, trying to see the vision Scarlett had painted with words. “I don’t know who in town will be able to afford to eat here, but I guess that’s not the point. You’re after really nice. Fancy, for fancy folks with money to come spend their money in Sweetgrass.” She nodded. “We need that.”
“We do. But I have something else in mind, as well. I want to have a special night during the week that’s just for the town. We’ll cut the prices as much as we can or alter the menu so that it’s more affordable, and it will be closed to the general public. People around here should be able to taste what their ingredients are providing. Healthy food shouldn’t be expensive.”
“But the rest of the time you’re going to gouge the visitors?”
Scarlett laughed. “Harsh…but yes, in a way. I’ll charge what the market will bear because we need this place to succeed for the sake of Sweetgrass. For the sake of Nana’s dream.”
“What are you going to call it?”
“At first I thought about naming it after the legend or The Lady, but…” She bit her lip. “What I’d really like to do is to name it in honor of Nana. Call it Ruby’s Dream. Does that sound foolish? I haven’t told anyone else, not even Ian yet.”
Rissa was surprised at the pleasure she felt to be part of a secret. “It’s…nice. Fitting. Sounds a little country but also…special, I guess I mean.”
“Exactly.” They smiled at each other. “That’s just what I was thinking.” Then she touched Rissa’s forearm again. She was such a toucher. “See? Family understands. It’s in the blood.”
Rissa cleared her throat. “Let’s not get carried away now.” But she got a kick out of it when Scarlett laughed again.
“Okay,” Scarlett said. “We’ve bonded about as long as you can stand, am I right?”
Rissa had to agree. “More than.”
“So let’s go join the guys and see what they’re cooking up.”
“Where are you going to get the money for this?” Mackey was asking Ian. “For real.”
Scarlett approached, Rissa behind her. “There are any number of investors who have been patrons of my place in New York and indicated interest in backing me.”
“But that was in New York,” he said. “Foodie heaven. Lots of money floating around.”
“Yes, but—”
“Not in the back of beyond.”
Her chin jutted. “Don’t count me out. I can be very persuasive.”
“That’s the truth, I’m here to testify,” Ian said, drawing her close and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Ruby’s willing to mortgage the cafe and her house, too, and we can pledge some of the ranch.”
“Count me in,” Mackey said. “I can’t float the whole thing, but I can help. I might be able to tap some money in L.A., too. California’s not in the best shape financially, but lots of the people I’m around are doing well, and they’re always looking for somewhere to put their money for a good return.”
“A restaurant isn’t the place,” Scarlett said. “The failure rate is high.”
“You telling me you don’t believe you can make this work?”
Scarlett smiled. “I am going to make this work, bet your bottom dollar.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do.”
“Not taking your money, my friend,” Ian said. “But we will take all the recommendations you’re willing to give out.”
“A lot of filming happens in Texas these days, and film people love Austin,” Mackey replied. “I can spread the word. Be happy to. After all, I have personal experience that the cook is amazing.” He smiled at Scarlett. “I was in your place in New York once.”
“Really?” She seemed pleased.
He patted his belly. “Awesome food. Dreamworthy.”
She rose to tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “You ain’t seen nothing yet, my friend.”
Chapter Seven
“Promise me something.” Mackey’s tone was serious as they drove back to the ranch.
Rissa dragged herself from her thoughts. “What?”
“I want you to let me know if they have trouble raising the money.” He glanced over. “Would you do that?”
“Why? What do you care?”
His jaw hardened. “Why wouldn’t I? Ian is my friend.”
“He doesn’t want to take your money.”
“He’s a proud man. Best man I ever knew. He and David…”
Silence caught them in memory. “Yeah,” she concurred.
“So you will? You’ll let me know?”
“You have money to burn? You heard Scarlett. Restaurants fail all the time.”
“Hers won’t. She stood out even in New York, the toughest food town this side of Paris.”
Yet again she was reminded that he knew a much wider world than she would ever see. Oh, she traveled some now, for special training assignments, but not often. For sure not to places with fancy restaurants. “How was it?”
“Amazing. Some of it was like all the trendy food these days, barely enough for a snack sitting on a plate decorated with sauces and garnishes. Hardly a mouthful of actual food, but—” He shook his head. “That one mouthful was…paradise.”
“Cost the earth, I bet.”
“Absolutely,” he said, turning onto the ranch road. “But that’s the world she had to compete in. She did it damn well. What she served wasn’t all silly bits of fluff—but even those silly bits were delicious. And creative.” He grinned. “And she’s clearly versatile. She cooks diner food every bit as well as Ruby, even though hers has some additional…flair, I guess you’d call it.”
His admiration was clear. Rissa wasn’t sure why it riled her. “So she can cook. People would still have to drive halfway across the country to get here. Who would do that?”
He grinned. “If you could see the pretentious people I know…” He shook his head. “They’d drive to the moon for the next big thing.”
She couldn’t imagine it. “But will they drive twice?”
“She and Ian have cooked up some ambitious plans, but they’re innovative idea
s. A place like this appeals to the kid in all of us, the child who remembers life as a simpler, kinder place. Sweetgrass feels like home.”
His voice almost sounded as though he felt that way, too. He would leave, though, very soon. As would those people who came to the restaurant, unless… She went still. “They’d better not think of moving here.”
“Who? Oh—the visitors.” He parked the car and shrugged. “They might.” He studied her. “If you were smart, you’d get ahead of the demand. Divide your land and sell it in five or ten-acre homesites. You could make a bucketload of money.”
And she could be free. She could go anywhere she wanted to. Rissa tried on the idea for size. If she could go anywhere…
Then she pictured her hills full of roads and houses, of cars and yapping dogs instead of lonesome winds and silence. “I don’t think so.”
“Offer packages, then. Horseback rides, trail rides. Lessons, dude ranch, cowboy-for-a-week packages…”
She stared at him. “I don’t want to run a dude ranch. I don’t like people that much.”
“I’m shocked.” He flashed a quick grin. “But seriously, there’s good money in tourism. So what do you want? If you could do anything, what would that be?” He pulled to a stop before the barn.
Abruptly the vista of her future opened up, a big blank screen. What would she do? “I have no idea. I never considered…” But then she did. “Rescue. I’d have a rescue operation. Rescue horses. Do therapy with vets with PTSD. Abused kids.”
“I’ve been to a place like that outside L.A. Amazing work they’re doing with veterans. So what’s stopping you?”
“Besides my dad, who hates people in general?”
“As opposed to you who just doesn’t like them?” He grinned again. “Yeah, besides that.”
“Money, of course. I’d need riding rings, more stables, more fencing. Not to mention a feed bill that would rival the national debt.”
“Can’t you grow your own hay?”
“I don’t have the hands. Or the equipment.”
“Maybe you’re the one who needs a partner.”
Her gaze whipped to his. “You?”
“Don’t scoff. You have any idea how much business I could bring your way? You have a gift, Rissa. I do a good side business that I’m growing right now, training stunt horses. There’s a lot of demand, and I have the contacts. I’m not half bad myself at training them for film tricks. Nothing like what you’re doing, but…” He lifted a shoulder. “Maybe I could learn from you.”
She stared at him. “It’s not something you can just flit in and out of, Mackey. You have to be there for these animals. And to take on kids and wounded warriors…”
“Some of those wounded warriors are my comrades, Ris. And you have no idea who I am now. Or where I’ve been.” He sounded furious. “I’m going to change my clothes before I start on the stalls,” he said, and slammed his door.
He didn’t look back.
The afternoon passed quickly, but Rissa kept having to drag her attention back to the horse she was training. Shutting out the argument with Mackey—much less ignoring his startling suggestions—required an insane amount of focus from her, but she had no choice unless she wanted to give up on today’s session.
Since she’d accused Mackey of not having persistence and discipline, she’d better not come up short herself.
He wasn’t flighty, and she owed him better. He’d made it through SEAL training, hadn’t he? He didn’t have any ties was all, she realized, and no history of staying in one place, so why wouldn’t he move around a lot? It was a free country. And it wasn’t as though either of his professions gave him the opportunity to sink roots.
The filly danced, and Rissa yanked herself back to the moment. “Sorry,” she said. Blew out a breath. “Okay, Lolly, let’s try again.” Grimly she acknowledged that she might owe Mackey an apology, then she cast away all thought but the horse before her.
And so the afternoon passed.
He wasn’t pissed at her anymore. Working your butt off had that effect. Amazing how using a pitchfork and shovel hit muscles no gym workout seemed to touch.
And no headache for once. Man, he wished that could become a permanent state.
Maybe he was better. Maybe he could get cleared to go back.
Yeah, and wasn’t that exactly what she had been talking about, his urge to go?
It was only sensible, though. His life was not here. This was a waystation at best.
He yanked off his filthy boots on the doorstep, then walked inside in sock feet. As he turned to shut the door, he spotted her.
It wasn’t often you saw Rissa Gallagher still.
She’d finished with the filly and was leaning against the fence rail, chin propped on her fist, staring into the distance.
She looked lonely as hell. On her face was painted longing…for what? Was she thinking about the dreams she’d shared with him earlier? Wishing for a different life?
Come with me, Rissa. Let me show you the world. Lay it at your feet.
He nearly went to her then, actually had his hand on the knob.
Someone called out to her from the pasture and in a blink the dreaming Rissa was gone. He watched until she strode from sight, those long legs eating up the ground, everything about her once again purpose and determination.
She fascinated the hell out of him.
When she was gone, he gathered himself to go clean up.
He showered, then donned clean jeans but left off his shirt for the moment, since the temperature was ninety-seven outside and this place only had a room air conditioner in the bedroom. He’d opened all the windows, and the breeze helped.
The big house was air-conditioned, but he’d already conveyed his regrets to Celia. He wasn’t up to company. He’d just scramble some eggs for supper and call it an early night.
Damn it. The shower hadn’t made anything clearer to him. Sure he’d gotten carried away, listening to Rissa’s plans—wish list, really. But he could just see it all in his mind’s eye, and he was shocked at how much the notion appealed to him.
And yes, he’d watched Rissa daydream, but he couldn’t realistically be a part of it. He had a demanding career, and yes, he could have his base anywhere, but he still had to travel constantly.
Anyway, this wasn’t his place, and James Gallagher would shoot him dead before he’d let Mackey stay. Even if Mackey wanted to do that, he knew from before that most of the land around Sweetgrass Springs was owned by the four founding families.
Would Ian carve him off a piece? Wouldn’t be fair to ask—he probably needed every acre for his cattle.
Or Veronica? He still had to pay her a visit. Perhaps that would help the situation everyone agreed was dire, for Mackey to buy some of her land—or all of it. Maybe she’d like to get away, see the world. Give her children a different life.
And why, exactly, was he even considering any of this?
Sweetgrass Springs was sucking him in again. Just as when he was a boy, the place felt like home in a way he couldn’t explain. That’s why he’d pushed so hard to stay and graduate here. And maybe, if Jackson’s mom hadn’t died, if the family hadn’t disintegrated and the accident hadn’t sent his buddy away…
He was doing it again. He wasn’t the settling-down type. Had no real frame of reference for it, save six years spent here as a boy. He was a rolling stone, and that suited him just fine.
Except for the times it didn’t. Which was happening more now.
He finished drying his hair and slung the towel around his neck as he rooted in the refrigerator for a beer. He put his R&B playlist on and let Marvin Gaye’s voice soar.
Rissa learned that Mackey wasn’t coming to dinner, and she knew she should be glad.
But she wasn’t. That he was missing was her fault. She owed him an apology, and it was high time she made it. She asked Celia to save her a plate, and she went upstairs to clean up. She smelled like sweat, horses and the dirt in the round pen.
“You don’t have to run away. Mackey’s not coming.”
“I’m not running away,” he grumbled. “Just particular about who I break bread with.”
“You don’t even know him,” she challenged. “You have no idea who he’s grown up to be. He was a SEAL, Dad. He defended this country. Put his life on the line, just like you did.” Her father had fought in Viet Nam.
His mouth tightened. “He led my boy astray.”
“Your boy ran away from you, Dad. For years you told him that what he wanted, what he was good at, didn’t matter. Then after the accident, you sent him away. You told him he was no son of yours. He was a scared kid, overwhelmed with guilt, and when he needed you most, you made a pariah out of him.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You were a little girl.”
“I wasn’t blind. I saw what you did to this family, deserting all of us when Mama died. We needed you, Dad, and you let us down.”
He flinched. “That’s all in the past.”
“It’s never going to be over until you bring Jackson home. Pen would come, too, if you’d show one iota of interest.”
“They deserted me!” he roared. “Left me alone with—” He stopped.
“With me. With a frightened little girl who would have done anything for one sign of affection, for one single hug.”
“I lost my wife,” he said.
“We lost her, too. Lost both of you.”
For a second, she thought she saw vulnerability, the merest hint of it.
But not for long. He jammed his hat on his head. “The past is the past. Nothing to do about it now.” He started down the stairs.
She watched him go, a bitter old man, whatever love he’d once had in his heart dried to dust.
Nothing to do about it now.
“Not if you won’t even try, Dad,” she murmured.
The walls of the house started closing in on her, and she couldn’t breathe. She had to get out of here. Had to escape this place of haunted memories, of anger that soaked the walls, of unspoken words that nonetheless shouted loud and clear that no love lived here.
Texas Wild: The Gallaghers of Sweetgrass Springs Book 2 Page 9