Texas Sweet

by Jean Brashear

  Sophia nodded. “You’re right.” She turned to Scarlett. “I’ll be downstairs, and you take all the time you want. I’m just so thankful you two will let me help you out.”

  As she turned to go, Scarlett halted her and hugged her. “I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here for us, Sophia, and Georgia adores you. Thank you for helping make this easier.” She stepped back. “And now I’ll put on my big girl panties and get over myself.” She straightened. “Hey, sweet girl, let’s get our day started, okay?”

  Ian relinquished Georgia to her, and Scarlett couldn’t help holding her extra close as they went downstairs. “I love you,” she murmured into the tiny ear. “And I’ll be there the second you need me.”

  Somehow she made it through the packing up of Sophia’s car and the leave-taking with Ian, the drive into town from the Double Bar M Ranch. When they approached the cafe, it wasn’t yet opening time, though Nana had urged her to come in late, but there were trucks and cars parked all over. “What on earth?”

  “People are excited to see you back,” Sophia said. “Maybe that’s a welcoming committee. Shall we go look?”

  “Oh, I should get Georgia squared away before I—”

  “How about you don’t put yourself through that,” Sophia suggested gently. “Let’s all three go in and see what’s going on, then I’ll take her over, and you won’t have to walk away from her, this first day.”

  “But I should—”

  Sophia’s hand clasped her arm. “We’ll do this however you want. I just want to make it easier however I can.”

  “Maybe I do want to take her inside, just for a second. Want to see where Mommy works again, Georgia?” Scarlett smiled at herself. “As if she understands what I just said.”

  “She knows the love in your tone and that special voice she’s heard from the beginning.”

  Scarlett was blinking back tears again. “I know she’s in great hands with you, Sophia, that’s not it.”

  While Scarlett took Georgia out of her car seat, Sophia rested a hand on Scarlett’s back. “I understand, Scarlett, truly. This is hard.”

  Then the back door of the cafe opened, and people spilled out. “Scarlett! Come inside and let us see that baby!”

  Smiling, Scarlett forced her feet to move. When she stopped inside, the noise level was amazing.

  Then people started clapping.

  “Welcome back, Scarlett!” the crowd shouted.

  “Folks, this is Harley Sykes at KSST, broadcasting the return of Sweetgrass Springs’ own beloved Scarlett McLaren.”

  Scarlett glanced around her at the huge bouquet of flowers, the balloons, the banner proclaiming Welcome Back, Scarlett. The tears rose again, but they were happy tears that helped ease the ache in her heart. “Georgia, look. They’re happy to see me.”

  Ruby came over and hugged her hard.

  “Nana, you did this?”

  “No, ma’am. You have Brenda and Henry to thank for the idea and for being up here half the night decorating.”

  Then she spotted them, both beaming, Brenda blushing and Henry’s ears red.

  She went to them. “This was the hardest morning, knowing I had to leave her, and look what you did. I don’t know how to say thank you enough.” Still holding onto Georgia, she hugged each one of them.

  “We’re really glad you’re back, Scarlett,” Brenda said softly.

  A big hand splayed over her back as she finished the hug and gave one to Henry. She looked up, and Ian grinned.

  “You knew?”

  “Lots of people besides Georgia love you, honey.”

  She leaned into him and smiled at the crowd. Everyone cheered again.

  “Okay, people, chop chop,” Jeanette said, parting the crowd. “Time to get back to work.” Then even Grumpy Jeanette smiled. “After I get my hug and get my hands on that baby.” She enveloped Scarlett. “Welcome back, City Girl.”

  Wow. Even her arch-enemy was glad to have her back. “Thank you, Jeanette.”

  “Now give me that baby and get your apron on. We got hungry folks waiting.”

  Henry handed Scarlett an apron while Jeanette hugged Georgia, then relinquished her to Nana. People gathered, chattering and hugging her, shaking hands with Ian.

  Somehow Scarlett had forgotten just how much everyone here meant to her. How the whole town would embrace the child of their love.

  She wasn’t abandoning her baby, she realized. She was enlarging Georgia’s world.

  “You okay?” Ian asked, his gaze returning to her for a second as he watched to see Georgia’s progress around the room.

  Scarlett smiled. “I’m okay. Go reclaim your girl, Daddy, and let’s get her settled in.” But before he left, she stopped him. He glanced back. “Thank you for making me part of this wonderful town.”

  “Sweetheart, you made your own place, and not one of us is going to let you get away now.” He glanced toward where Georgia was being cradled by Nita Benefield. “And she will never know what it feels like to be an outsider. She’ll never be alone as long as Sweetgrass exists.”

  Scarlett thought about Georgia’s namesake, Scarlett’s own mother, who had run away from this place Scarlett so adored, and felt a sense of a circle closing. “You’re right.” She watched him go after their daughter and scanned the faces she’d come to love.

  Sweetgrass Springs. Her own private miracle. “Okay, Nana, let’s get to work.”

  Ruby paused long enough to run a hand over her hair and hug her hard. “Mighty fine to see you here, honey.”

  “Good got be back, Nana.”

  And it was.

  At the tail end of the lunch run, Brenda waited at the window for the order Henry was plating. “Have you held Georgia yet?”

  “Yeah,” he answered, lifting the plate to her. “She’s a great baby.” He glanced over her shoulder. “Look. Ian’s letting Blue hold her.”

  Brenda turned to watch. “I think she’s been wanting to all day.” She noted how Blue’s features softened, how a smile relaxed her normally pinched face. “She seems pretty good with her, doesn’t she? Like it’s not her first time.” She stirred and grabbed the plate. “Better go deliver this. Man, we’ve been busy today.”

  “Everybody in town has come to see Georgia, it appears,” Henry responded. “That baby gives a lot of folks hope, her and the rest of the new generation of Gallaghers.”

  Brenda smiled, feeling that hope herself as she wove her way through the crowd. When she neared Blue and the baby, she heard Blue humming so softly she could barely be heard. The melody was so familiar…

  She ran it through her head as she passed, and a fragment caught her. Lavender’s blue, dilly, dilly…

  Brenda nearly dropped the plate. Once she’d steadied it, she lifted her gaze back to Blue, but Blue had walked away, still humming softly.

  Mère had sung that to her long ago. Her nickname had come from that lullaby.

  “You okay, Brenda?” asked Raymond Benefield.

  “Oh—yes, sure. Here’s your chicken-fried with a side of mashed potatoes and gravy.”

  “Thank you, hon. That new waitress seems to be working out, doesn’t she?”

  Brenda glanced back, then nodded. “She works hard. Um, anything else I can get you?”

  “Nope. Looks wonderful as always. Great to have Scarlett back, isn’t it?”

  “It is. I’ll check back in a few minutes, okay?”

  “Thanks.”

  She skirted around tables, unsettled by hazy memories of being soothed to sleep by her mother’s voice, singing that song as she’d rocked her.

  No. She shook her head. Don’t torture yourself with wishes that won’t ever come true. Sure, she was missing her own mother, surrounded by so many mothers and children these days.

  But longing for her own mother was foolish and useless. Her mother was gone, whether dead or alive. She’d never tried to find her Dilly, and Dilly was no more, anyway. She was Brenda Jones now, and Brenda Jones she would stay. Brenda wa
s strong and would get stronger. She was making her own life, and she didn’t need a mother anymore.

  Lavender’s blue, dilly, dilly… she could still hear, however, whether in her head or from Blue.

  “Order up,” Scarlett called out. “Brenda?”

  She shook off her past and strode into her future. “On my way.”

  Sunday dawned fair and bright, a perfect fall day. A good day for a birthday, Henry thought as he dug in the garden, even though today was about Brenda and the surprise he’d cooked up for her. He’d finished her cake last night, and Spike had promised to get it to Scarlett’s place, since she had the carriers to transport it safely. The cake wasn’t perfect, but Spike had praised his first effort. First effort. He snorted. He must have made about a thousand flowers in preparation. Brenda had once mentioned how she liked daffodils, so he really hoped she’d like the ones he’d put on her cake.

  He was going over after a while to check on everything and see if they were ready. Scarlett had said she’d talk to Brenda at church and tell her Henry was invited for afternoon barbecue, too, so she could ride with him. That way he’d be sure to see her reaction when she arrived and discovered that the party was for her.

  He had a whole flock of birds flapping around in his belly, as he hoped he hadn’t made a terrible mistake, that she’d be happy and not scared or worse, miserable.

  She didn’t like to attract attention, but she deserved to be noticed, to be celebrated. She had a big, sweet, beautiful heart, and he just wanted to show her how much everyone loved her.

  He shook his head. He shouldn’t love her, not that way. She was too—

  Stop saying I’m too young. I’ve lived a lot more life than many people twice my age.

  Still, there was an innocence to her, and he was torn by two urges: to preserve the innocence and to take it for himself. He wanted her to never be with another man. He wanted to be her first in everything, as he’d been her first kiss.

  Maybe that was old-fashioned and out of date, but—

  So was he. There was nothing wrong with traditions. They gave you stability and they paid honor to timeless values. Maybe she would wait for him if he insisted they not go beyond the kisses they’d shared so far—

  Big D’s face arose in his mind. Nope, he could see Big D’s mind working as he circled around her, wanting that fresh sweetness, too.

  Well, you can’t have her, Henry silently growled. She’s mine, and I’m going to claim her.

  Except Brenda had a mind of her own, one growing stronger every day, and he wasn’t at all sure she’d be pleased by the direction his thoughts had taken.

  Henry didn’t dig in his heels over much, but this…he was all in.

  You’re mine, Brenda Jones—or Dilly whoever. I want you, whatever you choose to be called.

  Brenda was a ball of nerves as she readied herself to go downstairs where Henry was waiting. She’d held a confab with Scarlett after church, making sure there was nothing else she needed to bring to contribute to the party. She’d made cupcakes at Chrissy’s house and let Thad and Becky help decorate them. Thad had been particularly delighted with the little John Deere logos she’d found to place on the tops, emblematic of Henry’s love of cultivating the earth, of growing things.

  Now was the hour, however, when she’d find out if Henry was pleased by what she’d done. He was such a good man, and he deserved to be praised and celebrated for what a reliable, kind person he was, so generous with his time and his attention—

  She ducked her head and blushed. And his kisses, which she hoped he wasn’t sharing with anyone else. He might think she was too young, but she sure didn’t. She felt all woman as he stirred up urges inside her she’d never felt before.

  She wanted more. Wanted to know all that could happen between a man and a woman. He thought of her as a girl, but she had news for him. Women her age often had babies in the past—not that she was ready for babies, no, though she had to admit that holding Georgia today had been pretty great.

  Lavender’s blue, dilly, dilly…

  Blue serenading the baby was stuck in her head like a record with a needle in a repeating groove, and she didn’t know why she couldn’t shake it. It wasn’t as though her mother was the only person who’d ever sung that song.

  She shrugged it off and started down the stairs. As she neared the bottom, Henry looked up, and his face lit. He seldom saw her when she wasn’t in either her diner uniform or her flower farm grubby clothes. He hadn’t been at church this morning, but still, she’d changed from that dress into one she’d gotten Jeanette to help her make a while back, a floaty confection in soft blue that seemed to favor her eyes.

  Judging from Henry’s gobsmacked expression, the added touches Jeanette had suggested had worked. Jeanette had fitted it to be both flattering to her figure and romantic in its appeal.

  Jeanette was a genius, clearly. Not that Brenda had doubted it.

  “Hi,” she said.

  He swallowed. “Hi,” came out in a croak. He cleared his throat. “You look amazing.”

  Her cheeks warmed, and her nerves kicked back to life. But this time they weren’t so much about Henry’s surprise and whether he’d like it.

  He held out a hand. “You’ll be the prettiest girl there.”

  Given that the Gallagher women were knockouts, every one, she highly doubted that. But still she smiled and said, “Thanks.”

  He escorted her to the door, holding it for her and doing the same with his truck. “I wish I had a fancy car for you to ride in,” he said as he helped her into her seat.

  She smiled. “I like your truck just fine.”

  For a moment he stood on the other side of the passenger door, and their eyes locked for a very long time.

  “You could kiss me,” she suggested.

  “Aw, well, I—” He looked away, but just as quickly, he ducked his head through the open window to press a soft kiss to her lips.

  She slid her fingers into his hair and cradled his head, opening her mouth and stroking his lips with her tongue.

  Henry groaned and opened to her, kissing her until her head was light. He drew back slowly, the tips of his ears pink, a shy grin on his face, and his eyes heated.

  “Happy birthday, Henry.”

  His eyes widened. “You remembered.”

  In spades, she thought, smiling right back. “Of course I did.”

  He lingered, his gaze locked on her, thoughts she couldn’t quite read going through his head.

  Then he pulled back. “Guess we’d better go so we won’t be late.”

  “Guess we should.” Her butterflies returned with a vengeance, but her heart fluttered even faster.

  He slid inside his door and started the truck. They rode along in silence, but when he reached for her hand, she turned her palm into his.

  And held on.

  Chapter Nine

  There was no way to hide this many vehicles, and she wondered what Henry thought as they pulled up at Ian and Scarlett’s new place. Situated on a bluff in a meadow that had special significance for the couple, the house was everything Brenda would have wanted. She didn’t need anything this big, of course, but even though the house had only been finished for a matter of weeks, it already looked like…home. The wide, welcoming porch would be an amazing place to while away a summer afternoon, and she smiled as she saw a porch swing had already been installed.

  Baby Georgia would have a happy life here, and Brenda was so very glad for her.

  She and Mère had never had a real home. She’d lost track of the number of places they’d lived, and that was before all the various way stations in which Dilly had been placed since she’d been left behind.

  Henry’s hand surrounding hers tugged her forward. “Are you okay?” His hazel eyes searched her face.

  It’s his birthday. Don’t get lost in a past you can’t change. “I’m fine. Sure seems like a lot of people,” she remarked, though she completely understood why all of them were there.


  “Yeah,” he responded but didn’t seem disturbed by the number. Henry was never disturbed, though—he might be the calmest person she’d ever met.

  “Happy birthday!” The roar greeted them, and Brenda began to smile, swiveling her head to see his reaction—

  Only to find him watching her expectantly.

  He gestured ahead, facing forward—

  Then went still himself. His gaze whipped to hers, his eyes astonished.

  She began to smile. “Happy birthday,” she said, but her words were lost as the crowd surged forward.

  “Happy birthday, Brenda!” someone shouted, and she saw it was Chrissy, nestled in front of Tank, his arms around her waist.

  She hesitated. “What?”

  Then Henry, grinning like crazy, pointed over the heads of the crowd.

  A huge banner, hanging next to the one she’d made for him, said Happy Birthday Brenda.

  Her jaw dropped. She clapped one hand over her mouth, whipping her gaze to him, her eyes wide with a question.

  He only grinned and said her words back to her, “Happy birthday.”

  “But—” Her head swiveled to locate Ruby and Scarlett, both of whom were beaming brightly. “Gotcha,” Ruby said, gathering her in. “Happy birthday, honey. I know your real birthday was in August, but better late than never, right?”

  Brenda couldn’t find her voice.

  Scarlett took her turn at hugging. “I wasn’t sure we could manage to surprise you.”

  “Why?”

  They both looked over at Henry. “He had this planned before you ever came up with your idea for him,” Scarlett answered.

  “Lordy, this was as tricky as pulling off a surprise double wedding.” Shared memories of the surprise weddings Scarlett and her grandmother had sprung on each other—on the same day—had them all grinning.

  “I can’t believe this,” Brenda managed. “I’ve never—” She looked for Henry, but they were separated by well-wishers.

  “The surprises don’t end here,” Scarlett warned. “But you go right on over and thank that young man.”