Texas Rebel

by Jean Brashear

  It made Jackson furious. He tried to step away from Penelope, ready to charge outside to—

  God. How could that bitter, beat-up old man reduce him to this? He was a wealthy man, he was respected and admired—but the man who’d given him life saw none of that. Didn’t even want to know, apparently.

  “He’ll get over it,” Ruby said and grasped his hand.

  But he knew she was wrong.

  Like a woman caught in a dreamscape, Veronica felt the pull of his presence.

  He’d abandoned her, the most important person in her life. He’d been her everything—her dream, her future, her escape from the nightmare of her father’s reign of terror.

  And he’d been gone when she’d needed him most.

  Leaving a canyon-sized hole in her heart with his absence.

  Slowly, against her will, she turned.

  And there he was. So different. Only the shadow of the young man remained, a shading where the tall, commanding presence glowed with that star power some people had in spades.

  Surrounded by people, his twin sister sobbing in his arms, he stood head and shoulders above everyone there.

  Then, as if he felt her looking, he turned his head.

  Electric blue eyes that once had shone with love locked on hers with a visceral click.

  She couldn’t stifle the gasp. Couldn’t look away if her life had depended upon it.

  But she couldn’t read him anymore. Couldn’t decipher what those eyes were saying now.

  And as they stared, she saw him become a statue, not a man. An ice-cold imitation of the boy whose love had sustained her.

  “Mom?” Ben bent to her. “Are you okay?”

  Jackson’s gaze shifted to her son. His brow furrowed, and those eyes that always saw too much sharpened.

  Terror shuddered through her. I don’t know you. You can’t have him. You left us.

  His look was predatory as he examined Ben, steel mask in place.

  “We need to go.” She gripped Ben’s elbow and turned.

  “Is that him? Is that Dad’s friend Jackson?”

  Dad’s friend. Blissful ignorance. Still she couldn’t settle, the threat Jackson presented hitting too close to her soft underbelly.

  You left me. She had to get Ben away from him before—

  “Mommy, who’s that man?” piped up Abby.

  “No one,” she managed. “Let’s go.”

  “To the party?” Beth asked.

  No.

  “It’s late. We need to go home.”

  “But, Mommy,” Abby protested. “It’s the party for Ruby and Scarlett. We have to go.”

  “Mommy, I want to go. Scarlett wants us there,” even quiet Beth whined now.

  “Mom, why—”

  Their voices crowded in, and the nerve endings that were already open to the caustic air stung and wept her panic.

  “Mommy, please—” Beth gripped her hand as if to detain her, and Veronica’s agitation increased.

  She couldn’t breathe.

  Frantically she searched for a way out, but people were crowding around Jackson, and the noise level rose and—

  She swiveled her head madly, seeking escape—

  “I’ll take them.” Brenda—meek mild Brenda—spoke decisively. “You’ve had a long day. Henry will help me get them home.”

  Jeanette stepped up then, too. In her eyes was both confusion and sympathy.

  No one knew. No one could know.

  She couldn’t lose Ben.

  She could never trust Jackson.

  “Brenda, you help Ben take the girls over to the cafe. I’ll be right there.” Gently Jeanette slipped one arm around Veronica’s shoulders. “Breathe,” she said. “I can only imagine how hard it must be to attend a wedding after losing David.”

  Veronica seized on the faulty reasoning. “I just need some air. But my kids—”

  “Are loved by this entire town. I’ll take care of them. Do you want to go on home? I can bring them in, what, an hour? That will give them time to have cake and so forth.”

  Veronica seized her hand and squeezed. “Thank you.” Relief swelled. Let them think she was unsettled by being at a wedding. That was all right.

  But Ben—She glanced back at her son, staring at the father he didn’t know he had. “Don’t—” Veronica seized Jeanette’s arm. Let Jackson take him.

  She couldn’t explain. Jeanette’s perplexed expression could turn to suspicion if Veronica didn’t gain control of her panic.

  Get a grip.

  As her head continued to spin with terror and longing, Veronica felt the walls closing in, the lights dimming.

  She couldn’t faint. “Thank you,” she managed. “I’ll just tell them—”

  “You go on outside. You sure you can drive?”

  Somehow she summoned a nod.

  “They’ll be fine. We’ll see you soon.” Jeanette turned to go.

  Veronica started to look back, but too much was closing in on her.

  She ran out the door.

  Ruby watched as Jackson turned into a pillar of ice when he’d been soaking in the warmth of his sisters’ love.

  Until his father lashed out at him.

  Not that anyone else noticed, she thought. Outwardly he was smooth and composed. Untouchable.

  But in his eyes she saw a wild spark, an instant of pain and defiance. He began peeling himself from Penny’s arms, handling her with care but firmly withdrawing nonetheless. “I have to go back to Austin. Business.”

  She heard it, then, the scared boy beneath the worldly man. “I’m sorry, Arnie. I have to take care of this.”

  “Of course you do.” Arnie smiled. “I’ll be right with you, whatever you need.”

  She turned to him. “I am so glad you conspired against me, you old goat.”

  “I love you, too.”

  She kissed him then and stroked his cheek. “Thank you.”

  Jackson was walking away, leaving everyone stunned and staring.

  He was nearly to the door when she caught up to him. “Jackson, come with me.”

  He turned, his eyes wild until he grabbed the reins of control again. “Aunt Ruby, no…”

  She placed her hand in his. “Come with me.”

  It was like tugging at a boulder, but finally he moved. Ignoring everyone in their path, she led him the spring behind the courthouse.

  Love strong enough to stay, came the whisper.

  Veronica sat at the base of a giant live oak at the river’s bend.

  A faint white light drifted at the corner of her vision.

  She turned toward it. To her stunned surprise, she saw the outline of a woman in clothing from another time standing there, eyes dark with grief.

  Veronica blinked and rose. Shook her head, then opened her eyes again.

  The figure was still there.

  She’d never seen The Lady from the legend. Few had. She took a step closer.

  The ghostly shape shimmered, her sorrow a visible aura around her. With that immense sadness spilling from her eyes, the woman shook her head.

  Make him stay. Ask him.

  Veronica stumbled on a tree root. Fell back. “Who?”

  You know.

  Veronica shook her head rapidly. “No. I don’t—He can’t—I won’t let—”

  Help me, the woman said.

  “How?” But she knew the legend. “No. I—I’m sorry, but I can’t—” She turned to flee.

  Stop, the woman ordered. Listen to me.

  But Veronica couldn’t—The Lady didn’t know what she was asking. Jackson might have been dead, for all he’d cared about her. He’d been gone too long. She loved David, and she hated Jackson. Would never forgive him.

  She made herself stop and look back, but the woman was gone.

  “It’s not my story to finish,” she said to the air. “I’m sorry for you, but…I’m not the one.” She waited, listening. Wondering if she’d lost her mind completely. If the strain of the night’s emotions had sent her
hurtling over the edge.

  Then Veronica gathered herself. Resumed the woman she’d become, the survivor. She didn’t know why Jackson was here, but it wasn’t for her. She didn’t need him. Hadn’t needed him for a very long time.

  She had her life, her children, her flower farm. They were her present and her future.

  Jackson was her past.

  She took a deep breath and contemplated going over to the cafe. Claiming her children and taking them home with her.

  But she would not let her fears overcome her. No one knew about Jackson and her but David, and David was dead.

  She could take care of herself and her family.

  She would go home and trust in Jeanette to deliver her children soon. They would get a good night’s sleep, and tomorrow would dawn, just another day at Butler’s Blooms, another scene in the continuing saga of survival.

  As Ruby led her nephew to the spring, a shape flitted away. The Lady had appeared to Ruby and to two Gallagher couples, Ian and Scarlett, Mackey and Rissa. For a moment she wondered if her suspicions would prove true, that Jackson would complete the journey and release The Lady into her peace.

  But this was a real shape, not The Lady.

  “Veronica…” Jackson said softly. His gaze locked on the fleeing figure, his face bearing the saddest expression she’d ever seen outside The Lady’s.

  Then, as if waking from sleep, he closed his eyes and opened them once more. “I don’t want to be here,” he said. “I don’t belong.”

  She kept a tight clasp on his hand. “Of course you do. What did you expect, after all these years? Of course folks are shocked, but they’ll get over it.”

  “I have a business to run. I don’t have time for—”

  “Young man, I may not be able to take a willow switch to your behind anymore, but that doesn’t mean you don’t owe me a listen.”

  A muscle in his jaw flexed. “Go ahead, have your say.” His eyes bored into hers. And then I’ll be on my way, he might as well have declared, his impatience to be gone a visible, angry aura.

  “If it’s money you need…” he began.

  “I really ought to switch your behind for that,” she snapped. “You have left a trail of destruction behind you, James Jackson Gallagher, and it’s high time you cleared up the mess.”

  “I left so things would be fixed. What good will it do—” He clamped his jaw shut, became the man of ice again. “I don’t belong here, and I never did. I hate this place.”

  “You think you do, but this is your home, young man. Your roots run deep here. You will never find peace until you put some things to rest. No, don’t you shake your head at me. You left this place, and I know you always wanted to see the world—you’ve done that, haven’t you? But no matter how far you travel, that hurt, angry boy goes with you. He needs peace, and the grown man does, too.”

  “You don’t know me, Aunt Ruby,” he bit out. “You don’t know my life. What I’ve accomplished.”

  “I don’t, do I, because you haven’t let anyone in. You left behind people who loved you—”

  At last his composure broke. “They hated me! I killed Beth Butler!” Instantly he gathered himself and stood ramrod straight. “I don’t need this. Neither do you. It’s your wedding day.” A small smile peered out. “How did that happen, anyway?”

  “I got ambushed by my granddaughter—well, the whole town, really.”

  “How is it Ian was getting married at the same time?”

  “Well…” She grinned. “That was my doing. My granddaughter’s been dragging her heels, too caught up in business to take care of her personal life.” He looked more relaxed now, since they were no longer talking about him, so she took the plunge. “Stay for a few days, Jackson. You have cousins here who came for the wedding, and Mackey’s back, too. Penny needs you—I’m not sure what’s going on, but something’s happened to her.”

  “What’s wrong with her?”

  “She’s not saying.”

  “Aren’t people supposed to go on a honeymoon after they get married?”

  She waved that off. “We’re too old for a honeymoon. Anyway, there’s an important birthday party tomorrow night, for the boy Rissa and Mackey are adopting.”

  “Rissa? That’s what Clary’s called?”

  “She needed to put the past behind her, too. She’s been through a lot. Your dad hasn’t made it easy on her.”

  At that his face turned to stone once more. “Some things never change.”

  “I won’t say he hasn’t been horrible to you, and don’t think for a minute I haven’t given him what-for over it.”

  “But it didn’t make any difference, did it?” He laughed, though it was hollow. “I could buy and sell him a thousand times over, but he still doesn’t respect me or what I’ve done.”

  “He doesn’t know what you’ve accomplished. No one does. You did a really good job of burying yourself inside that company. Does anyone really know who created Enigma Games?”

  “I like it better, being left alone. I don’t want to be the public face of the company. Someone else does that for me.”

  “No man is an island, Jackson.”

  “I am.” He cast her glance full of defiance. “And I like it.”

  Beneath this cold, commanding figure was a boy, sorrowing and so very alone. “Stay. Just a few days,” she urged. When his resistance didn’t abate, she played her trump card. “I—I could use your help with something.”

  Immediately he turned in concern. “With what?”

  “Not tonight. It’s…” She sighed and didn’t have to fake her weariness. “It’s been a very long day. We started early with the renovation, and I’ve been on my feet cooking all day. I’m not young anymore.”

  Instant worry replaced all suspicion.

  She didn’t feel one iota of remorse.

  “You need to sit down. Do you—let me carry you, all right?”

  “It’s the old goat who’s supposed to carry me over the threshold.”

  A quick flash of the grin she’d forgotten he possessed.

  “But I wouldn’t mind an arm to lean on.”

  Instantly his support was there. “Where do you want to go?”

  She glanced toward the front of the courthouse where the crowd seemed to be dispersing. “I’d like to go home and put my feet up, but that’s not in the cards. There’s a party at the cafe, but I hope everyone will leave pretty quickly—we’ve all had a long day. Just walk me over there, and you’ll stay the night with me, I won’t hear otherwise. I have room.”

  “I don’t—”

  Goodness, he was stubborn. She played dirty and sagged against him.

  Quickly he slipped an arm around her shoulders and held her like spun glass. “Please, Aunt Ruby. Let me carry you.” Then he went ahead and did so without waiting for permission.

  She smiled into his shoulder. “Thank you. I guess I’m not as young as I think. I believe I’d just as soon go on to the house, if you don’t mind. I’m more weary than I realized.”

  “Don’t you worry. Just rest easy, and I’ll get you home.” With long, powerful strides he carried her past the gaping stragglers.

  Foolish, sad, stubborn boy. A surrogate grandmother’s work was never done.

  As Jackson carried Ruby toward the cafe, Ian and Arnie were standing outside, waiting. Arnie stirred at the sight of Ruby being carried.

  Ian spotted them and started to approach.

  Then Arnie got a look at her face and stopped him. “Wait. Take a look at her.”

  She winked at them over his shoulder.

  Ian grinned. “That woman. I swear…she’s incorrigible.”

  He and Arnie exchanged glances. “We’re toast, aren’t we?” Ian said to the older man.

  “You just now figuring that out, son?”

  Scarlett appeared. “Oh no! What’s wrong?” She started forward, but Ian reeled her back in.

  “It’s not what you think. Look closer.”

  Behind Jackson’s
back, Ruby was flashing a thumbs-up.

  Scarlett snickered. “He seemed ready to poof on us.”

  “Poof?” Ian asked. “Poof? That’s my buddy there. You don’t use poof when you’re talking about us manly men.”

  She smiled sweetly at him. “I stand by my word choice.” Then she rose to her toes and kissed the socks off him.

  “The party’s fading pretty fast anyway,” Ian said, sliding his arms around her and gathering her in. “You can take care of things, right, Arnie?”

  The older man sighed. “Scram. But you owe me.”

  “Uh-huh. Whatever you say, Arn.”

  Arnie shook his head and left.

  Ian smiled wickedly at the woman in his arms. “You don’t want to meet your cousin properly?”

  “He’s your best friend—what about you?”

  “Tomorrow, Mrs. McLaren. We may have to delay our honeymoon…but not this part.” He waggled his eyebrows as he lowered his mouth to hers. “We’ll catch him tomorrow.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  Chapter Three

  Before dawn the next morning, Veronica sat in the darkness on her sun porch, fingers of one hand dug into the ruff of her ancient dog Boo’s coat.

  Boo groaned in bliss, and Veronica paused in her silent litany of chores for the day to smile. “You’re the best, Boo.” He was eleven, old for a dog his size, and he didn’t prance around the place as he once had, but he held a place of honor in the family. He was a mutt, pure and simple, some crazy mix of golden retriever, boxer and heaven knows what else, but he owned their hearts. He’d been Ben’s find, filthy and matted and starving on the road, and he’d gotten all of them through David’s death, his silent, comforting presence a rock for all of them. More than a few tears had been soaked up by his fur.

  He was her faithful companion for this, her morning indulgence. She had to get up a half hour early for it, but sometimes she thought that these thirty minutes of coffee and birdsong and Boo, watching the sky begin to lighten, were all that got her to the close of her endlessly long days.

  Most mornings she tried to be still and peaceful, simply absorb the glory of silence and the luxury of nothing to do…for thirty minutes, at least. David had teased her and grumbled over her rising from bed before she had to, but he’d been cheerful, as always, in the face of her folly.