“Same here. Glad you could come. Do you ride?”
“Not in years,” Laura said. “I thought I might just wait here with Becky and watch.”
Tank glanced over. “You don’t want to ride, Miss Becky?”
“They’re really big.”
“They are,” he agreed. “But that’s why I’m here. Mackey brought Sweet Sue there, the paint, and he says she’s as calm as they come.”
Mackey grinned. “She’d nap while you were riding her if she could get away with it. Wouldn’t you, girl?” The mare rubbed her head against his shoulder and bobbed it up and down.
“She said yes!” Thad cried. “Did you see that, Becky?”
“Yes, but—”
Tank intervened. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Miss Becky. Maybe you’d like to watch for a bit.”
She sent him a grateful smile.
“I want to ride, Big Theo!”
“Then ride you will. We’re going to take Sweet Sue into the pen first and let you ride her there.”
“Can’t we gallop? And lasso cattle?”
Mackey chuckled, and Tank grinned. “Let’s save that for now. Sweet Sue needs to get used to you just like you need to get used to her. Come with me now.” The big man held out a hand and exchanged the reins of his big Goliath for the mare’s, leading Thad to the fence then walking the mare inside. He dropped the reins, and Chrissy worried at her lip while Tank turned to pick up Thad and settle him on the saddle.
“I’ve trained her to stand perfectly still,” Mackey said quietly. “You don’t have to worry.”
She cast him a grateful glance. “Horses are so huge.”
“They are, and they must be respected, but horses just want a strong leader. They’re herd animals, and there are no stallions here to lead them. Even Goliath has been gelded.”
“He’s enormous.”
Mackey shrugged. “Tank’s a big man. But he’s got Goliath trained well, too. Couldn’t have done better myself.”
They watched in silence for a few moments while Thad held onto the saddle horn and Tank led Sweet Sue around in a circle. Thad was chattering a mile a minute. Occasionally he’d say something that would have a grin flaring on Tank’s face, and Chrissy was reminded how a smile transformed the man.
He’s not for you.
“You’ve done something amazing here,” Mackey said to her quietly. “No one has ever seen Tank this sociable.”
“It’s not me.”
“It absolutely is. Somehow you’ve found something in him no one ever believed existed.”
Abruptly she got mad. “He’s not an ogre. I don’t know why nobody gives him a chance. He didn’t have to do any of the nice things he’s done for me and my kids. And furthermore, he deserves better, after all of you let him down the way you did. What he’s been through—”
Mackey’s brows flew. “Whoa, there. First of all, I was a kid, and kids have no idea about things like abuse, but second—” He exhaled. “You’re right. All I can say is that we all knew his dad was a jerk, but the family hid their secrets from everyone else. I mean, Jackson knew Veronica was afraid of her dad, but she never told him why—and he and she kept their relationship so quiet that none of us had a clue they were together. It’s no excuse, but when a family hides abuse like that—I still didn’t really know until Jackson returned. Tank’s father had always been hard to be around, so everyone avoided him, but we just thought he was a bully. And Tank was, too.”
Tank glanced over at their fevered conversation, a frown forming.
She bit back her retort. “I don’t want to make him feel worse. We shouldn’t be talking about him. He has a right to his dignity.”
Mackey studied her. “You’re exactly right. How is that you know him in a way no one else does?”
“Because nobody looks beyond the surface. I love Sweetgrass, but I have a bone to pick—”
Mackey held up both palms. “Well, he certainly has a defender now.”
She subsided. “Not really.”
“What do you mean?”
“Mom, look! I’m riding a horse!” Thad burst in. “Can we go faster, Big Theo? Let’s gallop.”
Tank chuckled. “One step at a time, son.”
The day was lovely, and Tank’s land was beautiful. Mackey excused himself after a bit and said he’d be back later to retrieve the horses.
“You want to try, Miss Becky?” Tank asked. “You can have a turn.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know.”
He lifted Thad from the saddle. “Don’t run. Walk to the fence and climb over.”
Thad complied in a way he never listened to his mother.
“It’s up to you,” Tank said easily. “Would you like to try just sitting in the saddle and see what you think?”
“I guess.” But she hesitated.
Again Tank dropped the reins and strode over to her. He plucked Becky off the fence and held her close as he slowly returned to the mare. “Want to pet her first?”
“Will she let me?”
“Here. Put your hand on top of mine first, and we’ll see.” He placed his hand against the mare’s neck, and Becky put her small hand over his. Tank stood patiently with her and stroked, again and again, letting Becky choose what to do. Finally she used her other hand to touch the mare on her own. “Her hair is so smooth,” she marveled.
“Mackey takes good care of his stock. I bet she was brushed before she left this morning.”
Becky kept petting until finally she looked at Tank. “Will you stay with me?”
“If you sit in the saddle?” At her nod, he answered. “Sure I will. You want to try?”
A small nod. Slowly he lifted her with no apparent effort and placed her in the saddle, grasping the reins in one fist, while his other hand rested on the saddle beside Becky.
“Wow, this is high.”
“Don’t you want to race, Becky? Kick her sides and make her run—” Thad called out.
“Thad—” Chrissy reprimanded.
Tank merely turned and cocked his head. “What did we say about being calm and not yelling?”
“Yes, sir,” Thad sighed.
Chrissy watched while Tank patiently coaxed Becky into the next step and the next, until she was riding Sweet Sue around the ring, her smile bright as morning. “Do you see me, Mommy? I’m riding, Aunt Laura!”
“So you are,” Laura answered.
“You’re doing great, sweetie.” You would never hurt my kids. Chrissy wanted to remind Tank that she’d said that. And she’d been right.
But the morning was one stiff moment after another between them. He kept himself carefully apart.
After he’d lifted Becky from the horse’s back and returned her to the fence, he led Sweet Sue over and tied her to the fence, then he looked at Chrissy. “What about you? Would you like to ride?”
She wanted to do most anything that would remove this distance from between them, but she wasn’t up for another lesson in his avoidance of anything personal between them. “Maybe another time. I’m good. But thank you.”
“Then can we gallop, Big Theo?” Thad cried.
“Thad—” she began.
“Let me ask your mom first.” His blue eyes looked into hers, and there was apology in them.
Just not enough to change anything.
“If I took him up before me, would you be willing for me to take him out in the pasture?” He lowered his voice. “We won’t gallop. Even a trot will feel like the wind to him at this point. Do you trust me?” His eyes said more than a horse was involved, and also how much he wanted to warn her again.
“I already do,” she answered. And wouldn’t drop her own gaze from him, no matter how it hurt.
“Chrissy…” he said low and strained. “I—”
She shook her head. This wasn’t the time or the place. Still she touched him, only his forearm, though she had no idea why she didn’t just give up.
In his eyes was an a
pology she didn’t want.
She found a smile to cover her ache. “I still trust you.”
“I’ll be real careful with him.” He turned away. “Come here, Thad—and don’t run, hear me? Goliath isn’t Sweet Sue.”
He swung himself up in the saddle, then, in an impressive display of strength, bent down and plucked Thad from the ground, controlling the horse with only his knees while settling her son in front of him.
“This is awesome, Big Theo!”
Goliath danced.
Chrissy bit her lip but said nothing. As with everything else, Tank had the horse under control.
And before he had to remind Thad, her son spoke. “I’m sorry. I won’t yell.” His voice was barely a whisper.
“I’m counting on you,” Tank said solemnly. “You ready?”
If Thad felt one second of fear, it didn’t show. He only looked up at Tank in perfect trust, his grin huge. “Let’s run!”
Tank wrapped one big arm around Thad. “Hold onto the saddle horn and grip the saddle with your thighs.” With the pressure of his knees, he moved Goliath into a walk, then increased his gait.
Soon they were trotting, then going a little faster as they charged down the road.
She could hear Thad’s laughter all the way down the dirt road.
And for a second, she heard a deeper one. Then the two turned back and raced toward them, Thad’s smile as wide as the sky and Tank grinning widely too. The big man protecting her little boy.
No, you won’t ever hurt them, she thought. And I don’t know how I’m going to give up on you.
She rubbed her heart as she watched them. Tank might have had no example to follow in his own father, but he would be a wonderful father himself one day—if only he’d let himself believe.
“You’re right,” her sister said beside her. “He’s a good man. I don’t think you should give up on him. I think he needs all of you.”
“I’m tired of fighting him,” Chrissy admitted.
“Not as tired as he is of fighting himself, I don’t think.”
Chrissy studied her sister, then looked back at Tank. “He doesn’t want me.”
“Then you’re not looking, little sister, because that’s not what I see. He may not think he should want you, but he does. Don’t give up on him yet.”
“Are you going to give up on Jake?” she challenged.
“Why do you think I’m here, fighting for him? Of course I’m not.”
Chrissy felt better than she had in days as she heard the resolve in her sister’s voice.
He hadn’t expected them to stay all day.
When they brought out lunch and asked where to set it up, Tank had to scramble to think of a place. He’d never had company here before. Ever.
“We could go over there, under that big tree,” Becky suggested, pointing toward the old homestead.
“No!” he barked before he could restrain himself. Not there. Not ever there. “I mean, there are fire ants, and you don’t want to get stung.” There were no fire ants, at least he didn’t think so, but that tree was too close to the house he hated. He cast around for an option.
“Does somebody live there?” Becky asked. “We’d be in the way?”
He watched Chrissy and her sister exchange glances, but neither of them could know. “Nobody lives there.”
“Is it yours?” Thad asked.
“No—I guess yes, but—” He was floundering.
Chrissy rescued him. “Kids, this is Deputy Patton’s place, and it’s not polite to pry. He said no, so let’s let him decide, okay?”
Why did she make him feel all thumbs around her, so gracious and kind while he blundered about?
Then he thought of a place. He’d never shared it with anyone before. “Let’s get in my truck, and I’ll show you. I’ll just go get some horse blankets to sit on.” He glanced at Chrissy. “Do you want to move the booster seat or let him sit in the bed? I’ll drive real slow.”
“The bed!” both kids cried. “Please?”
She looked at him then. “If you think it’s safe, I trust you.”
Those words again. Don’t. Please don’t trust me.
He wanted nothing more. “It’s not far. If you want to sit in the back with them, they should be fine.”
She only nodded and turned to her task.
As they drove, he could hear the children chattering and laughing. This place had heard little laughter, at least not in his lifetime. It sounded good.
He did his best to drive around the worst of the ruts to eliminate the bouncing as much as he could. At last he saw it, his ancient live oak tree. Well, the tree he thought of as his, for all those years he hid in its sheltering branches. After a beating, he’d escape as soon as he could and race on flying feet to this refuge perched on the edge of a hilltop. He could let his imagination roam to his ancestors and what they’d seen here during the long years of the Patton history. He pictured himself fighting Comanches or battling for Texas freedom, of riding far and wide and fast, free to be whoever he wanted.
“It’s beautiful,” Chrissy said, coming around to his door.
This was the place he wanted to build a house…except why would one man need one? “I like it.”
“It would be an amazing spot to build your home, wouldn’t it?”
His gaze whipped to hers, that she’d had the same thoughts. “It would.”
She looked past the hood toward his tree. “That oak must be a few hundred years old, you think?”
“I do. I used to—” He hesitated.
“Come here?” He glanced over in surprise. “I bet it was amazing to climb.”
“Do you like to climb trees?”
Her eyes gleamed. “I used to.” She shrugged. “I was pretty good at it, if I do say so myself.”
He was caught by an image of sitting with her on one of the wide, welcoming branches, looking out at the view that had kept him sane. “Too bad you have on a dress. You could demonstrate.”
Her smile flashed. “Can I take a rain check?”
He couldn’t look away.
“Mom, I’m starving!” Thad cried.
Her warm eyes finally tore from his. “You must be about to grow again. I swear you eat like you have a hollow leg.”
Thad giggled, and Tank had to smile.
“I’m going to be as big as Big Theo. I just have to eat more.” As Tank emerged from the cab, Thad stood at his feet and kept looking up and up. “I better eat a lot,” he muttered.
Chrissy and her sister both laughed.
And Tank found himself laughing, too. He bent and picked up the boy, settling him on his shoulders. He reached out a hand. “Miss Becky, would you like to pick out our spot?”
“I see one.”
“Then lead the way.”
Later after they had eaten their fill, Thad rubbed his belly. “Aunt Laura, you’re the best cook in the world.”
“Your mama is a good cook, too,” Tank said. “No offense, Mrs. Cameron.”
“Laura, please. And no offense taken, Deputy.”
“Tank, ma’am.”
Laura winced. “Could we ditch the ma’am? You make me feel a thousand years old. How old are you, Tank? Surely I’m not a crone yet.”
He grinned. “Thirty-seven and no, you’re hardly a crone.”
“Better. Even if I could have been your babysitter.”
A grim smile. “Never had one of those, but I’d have liked you. Were you a good cook then, too?”
“She got started early,” Chrissy remarked. “She practically raised me. Our mother wasn’t into domesticity.”
“That she wasn’t. She tried when I was little, but then my parents divorced, and as a single mother she was too busy trying to juggle her job and raising me.”
Chrissy saw his forehead wrinkle. “We have different dads. I was born when Laura was twelve.”
“Dad—your father—was a really great stepfather, though.”
“You were the sweet daughter he wished
for,” Chrissy answered. “I was—” She halted when she realized her children were listening too closely.
Laura came to her rescue once again. “So tell me about your place. Your family was one of the founders of Sweetgrass Springs, am I right?”
“Yes, ma—Laura,” he corrected. “There were four men who fought together in the fight for Texas independence from Mexico. After the war, when Texas was a country of its own, land grants were given to the veterans, and the four men chose their parcels to be next to one another. Then they each donated a piece at the corners that adjoined, and that became the town of Sweetgrass Springs.”
“And your family has been here ever since?”
Chrissy watched her sister smile and noted how much more relaxed he was with her sister or the kids than he was with her.
“Yes, but I don’t know a lot about them. My grandparents were gone before I was born, and my—” He shook his head. “History wasn’t spoken of much when I was growing up.”
“What do you know about your first ancestor? Anything?”
“Ronald Patton. He was a blacksmith. That was a useful trade in frontier days. The Gallaghers, the Butlers and the McLarens had all come from different places, but they formed a bond during the war, so afterward, they threw in their lots together.”
Chrissy wanted to ask at what point that bond was severed. Had it been only his father who’d done that and if so, how had he come to be a man who could treat his family so abominably? But even if those questions weren’t so personal, she didn’t want to make him throw up any new barriers between them.
“So did your ancestor kill a lot of people? Did he ever fight Indians?”
Tank winced.
“Thad!”
Tank shook his head at her before he answered. “Violence is to be avoided whenever possible, Thad. Those men were fighting for freedom, and yes, they took lives, I’m sure, but they were doing it for the sake of their families and later, to protect their homes.”
“You have a gun. Have you killed anybody?”
“Thad! That’s enough, young man.” She knew her voice was whip-sharp, but of all the men who didn’t need to be asked that question…
Texas Strong Page 17
