"Ben's mom needs help at the flower farm, and I try to pitch in wherever I can, but Veronica's a proud woman, and she won't ask fo r a thing. She's getting behind, though, without David, and Dad and Ben and I cooked up this work day for weekend after next. Like an old-fashioned barn-raising, you know? We even figured out how to keep her from feeling bad about it."
"So you need me to…?"
"Folks will bring food, I'm sure, but I want to provide the main part of it. Trouble is, I can't cook worth beans. Dad can, or he could once, but now with only one side working right, it would be too much for him. So I'm wondering if I could pay you to do it."
"I probably won't be here."
His brows snapped together. "You're leaving already?"
"Ruby thinks she'll be back here in a day or so. She won't need my help, and I have to finish my trip."
"I thought you came here to find her. So you zoom in, then take off, just like that? What about Ruby? Have you not noticed how old she is? You're going to desert her, just like Georgia did?"
Nothing got Scarlett's back up like someone criticizing her mother. "You don't know anything about my mother."
"You sure don't know much about family. You don't abandon family when they need you."
"Ruby says she'll be fine."
"And you believe that?" He was nearly shouting now.
Just then Jeanette walked in. "What's going on?"
Ian cast Scarlett a furious look. "Nothing. New York is itching to take off and leave Ruby to fend for herself."
"I'm not—"
"I have to go." Ian stalked out the door.
Jeanette cast a triumphant glance back at Scarlett.
Then followed Ian out the door.
Scarlett whirled and faced the dough. Picked up the recipe with shaking hands and tried to remember where she was in the process.
But looking at Ruby's handwriting only made her feel worse.
I can't stay. I can't. Even if trouble wouldn't follow me, this is not where I belong.
The bad part was not knowing where she did.
* * *
"I assure you that everyone takes a break in the afternoon," Jeanette insisted later that day.
"But what about the café?" Scarlett asked.
"It stays open, but we take turns. Ruby insists on everyone getting a break."
"For how long?"
"Two hours each, though she doesn't give herself the same privilege."
"What does she do?"
"She takes an hour, including halftime."
"Halftime?"
"That's what Ruby calls it. She climbs the courthouse tower."
"Seriously? Why?"
Jeanette glanced away.
"What?"
Jeanette shook her head.
"Please, Jeanette. Tell me." What on earth could make this woman who seemed bent on being her mortal enemy so uncomfortable?
Jeanette exhaled in a gust. "I think it has to do with your mother."
"What?"
"Folks say that she started it when Georgia first went missing." The waitress lifted one shoulder. "Sort of like she thought maybe she'd see her coming home or something."
A physical pain squeezed Scarlett's heart. "I don't understand what happened."
For once she and Jeanette were of one mind, apparently. "Nobody else does either. Ruby's the best person in the world, and she worked her head off to give Georgia the best life she could, but Georgia didn't care. She just took off." Jeanette snapped her fingers. "Like that, she left. And she broke Ruby's heart."
Everything in Scarlett rose in protest. "My mother was a good person."
"Couldn’t prove it by me."
"You didn't know her. You have no idea how hard her life was."
"It didn't have to be. Ruby would have done anything for her. She couldn't help that she was a single mother at odds with her family."
"Why do you say that?"
"You never met Ruby's father. He was a hard man, and he was furious at her for getting pregnant."
"How do you know that? You weren't even born. You're younger than me, right?"
"I'm thirty-four. Am I?"
"No." Crap. "I'm thirty-two. But you don't know what you're talking about."
"Everyone in town knows. Her father would not forgive her because she wouldn't tell him who Georgia's daddy was so he could make him marry Ruby."
"No one knows who my grandfather was?"
A slow shake of the head. "Only Ruby. And whoever the father was."
"You think my grandfather knew about Georgia and didn't care?" That would mean her mother's situation had resembled her own.
"I can't speak to that. Lots of speculation, but nobody knows for sure. Maybe her aunt Margaret, but she's long dead now."
Would Ruby tell her?
Would she dare ask?
Why was her grandmother so closemouthed about it? A horrific thought struck her. "Had Ruby been…maybe something bad had happened." Scarlett snapped her mouth shut. She didn't want to be talking about this with a woman who loathed her.
But to her surprise, Jeanette touched her arm gently. "No one's ever said anything like that."
"But if that's not the problem, what—oh, no. Could he have been…married?" She felt sick.
"I can't imagine it. Not Ruby."
"For real?"
"Ruby has never been a foolish person, and though she's not judgmental of others, she holds herself to some pretty high standards. Whatever the reason she's kept her child's father secret, I have hard time believing it's because she did anything wrong."
Except not marry the father of her child. Not that Scarlett didn't understand losing her head over a man who didn't deserve it. Who was completely wrong for her. "I need to think."
She was astonished to see sympathy in Jeanette's eyes. "You might climb those courthouse stairs yourself. Ruby says it gives her some perspective. Swears it's the best place to ponder. And it's your turn for a break."
"What if someone comes in to eat?"
"Then they can either wait or I'll fix them a sandwich. Everybody in town knows about halftime. They wouldn't expect different."
Scarlett had thought to go back to the house and check on Ruby, but Henry had already done so and sworn that she looked better. "But wouldn't someone care that I'm in there?"
"Your grandmother owns it. I can't imagine her complaining. She seems pretty set on giving you whatever you want."
The bitterness sounded like the real Jeanette.
Then the full import of Jeanette's words sank in. "She…owns it? The courthouse?"
"She sure does. See, Sweetgrass used to be the county seat, but then it got moved. The courthouse sat there vacant for years, and the county wouldn't do anything to keep it up. Sweetgrass was dying by inches, so…Ruby went to the commissioners and managed to convince them to sell it to her."
Scarlett blinked. "Why would she want it?"
"I'm not exactly sure. She's had some idea to turn the town into a tourist attraction." Suddenly she grinned.
"What?"
"For a while, she and Henry would sneak over there and shine lights at odd times. Ruby was thinking we needed a ghost."
"A…ghost?" Scarlett couldn't help but laugh.
"Yeah. Like The Lady in the legend."
"What legend?"
"Of Sweetgrass Springs. Nobody told you?"
Scarlett shook her head.
"Folks tell about a dying soldier whose horse scented the water and brought him to the spring. The soldier couldn't manage to crawl far enough, and when he was dying, a beautiful woman rescued him. She gave him water from the spring, and she took care of him in a clearing right where the courthouse stands now. Though he expected to die, she healed him. When he woke up, he asked why she looked so sad. She was once mortal, she said, and she was loved, but she turned away from that love, so the Fates cursed her to linger there until she was freed. She asked him to stay with her, but he said he had to return to his men. He promised he'd c
ome back for her as soon as the war was done, but she didn't believe him. He rose, healed and strong, and mounted his horse, but when he looked back, she had disappeared. She'd made herself invisible because she knew he would never be back. He rode off, and she's still there, waiting."
"Waiting for what?"
"Only true love can set her free." Jeanette's eyes went dreamy, and she looked like a different person. "Love strong enough to stay. That's what she's waiting for."
In Jeanette's expression Scarlett read the woman's longing for Ian and her reason, perhaps, for remaining here so long. The longing she saw there made her sad when she'd never imagined pitying Jeanette.
Scarlett had been burned badly by romanticizing a relationship that had turned out to be false, and she was determined never to do so again. Since Jeanette wouldn't appreciate her pity, she returned to the safer topic of the courthouse. "So my grandmother was hoping to use the legend to attract tourists." She had to give her grandmother credit. Places like Charleston or towns all over New England were chockfull of legends and ghost sightings to go along with them. "Not a bad idea." She glanced out the window at the town that was more than halfway to decay. "I guess it didn't work."
"Henry nearly got killed when a railing gave way, so Ruby called a halt to that, quick."
"The place is in bad shape?"
"It's sure not good. And Ruby doesn't have the money to fix it up."
Scarlett peered at the ramshackle building she'd barely spared time for up to now. "It looks as though it was once quite impressive."
"It was. Ruby has pictures. She's been assembling all kinds of historical information for a long time, so as to set up a museum someday."
Someday. For a woman in her seventies, would someday come too late? "I'd like to see it. How would I get in?"
"Best take a flashlight. Night falls so early this time of year, and you'll be coming back down those stairs in the dark. You don't need a key, though."
That no one locked doors still seemed amazing. "Nobody vandalizes a spooky old building?"
"Hon, this is not New York City. We're all neighbors here. Everyone knows who owns it, and not one soul in this town would ever want to hurt Ruby."
Scarlett wondered if she'd ever get used to the one-hundred-eighty-degree difference between where she'd been and this Brigadoon she'd come to.
A spirit in the spring, for heaven's sake.
"I think I will go." She removed her apron.
"Here's your jacket, Scarlett." Henry blushed as he handed it to her. "And here's a flashlight. You want me to come show you?"
"I'll be fine, Henry. I'd feel better, knowing you're here to help Jeanette. You have no idea how much I appreciate all you do."
His face flamed even more brightly, and he ducked his head. "I'm real glad to be helping you."
Over his head, she saw Jeanette's lifted eyebrows, but she refused to share in mocking someone with such a pure heart. She touched his arm. "Thank you, Henry. I'll be back in just a few minutes."
He stood a little straighter. "Take your time. Everything will be all right here."
With a smile, she left.
* * *
Heading back to the house after a long day of fixing fences and dealing with cattle in a cold and heavy drizzle that just would not let up, Ian reminded himself that they needed every drop. He dragged himself into the house, filthy and wet and longing to stand in a hot shower for about an hour. "Hey, Dad." He nodded to his father who was sitting in front of the computer he hated like he loathed drought and screwworms and mad cow disease.
His father only grunted and kept hitting keys. "Blast it," he muttered. "This can't be right." His head swiveled and he finally noticed Ian standing there in his sock feet after removing boots caked two inches thick with muck.
"What's wrong?" Ian asked.
His father shook his head sharply. "Nothing."
Definitely not nothing. "What's up?"
His father's expression was bleak. "When were you going to tell me we were bleeding money?"
Ian's jaw tightened. "We're not." Yet.
"How do you intend to pay this month's feed bill? To say nothing of the taxes, which are due at the end of the month?" His dad shook his head. "Dadgum rich folks, moving in and paying too much for land, driving property values through the roof."
Ian bit back what he badly wanted to say. I have a solution, if only you'd listen. "I'll manage, Dad. Haven't I been doing so all along?" Not that he knew how much longer he could keep juggling expenses. The ranch wasn't out of money, no. But another year of drought…
His dad raked one hand through his hair. "Blast this weak side of mine."
"Don't beat yourself up, Dad."
His father's face went thunderous. "I'm half a man! I am not good for one blasted thing around here because my arm and my leg—" He shoved to his feet and nearly toppled as he did.
Ian rushed to him and grabbed him.
"Don't!" His father shrugged him off, holding onto the adjacent counter for dear life. He braced his good arm on the edge while his head sagged in despair.
And Ian didn't know how to fix this.
At least, not as long as he hewed to his father's way of doing things. He did have answers, detailed ones he'd sweated over for hours—just nothing his father would want to hear because every one of them involved change. Big change.
Change that would forever say goodbye to a tradition nearly two hundred years in the making.
Ian blew out a breath and glanced over at the cold stove. He would have to have the discussion again, but tonight he was worn out, and it wouldn't be fair to hit his father with that conversation when he was already down.
His father would have to be brought into the modern era, but doing so wasn't easy. The ranch was still his dad's, and Ian wasn't trying to tear the reins from his father's hands, but that's how it would feel to his dad.
Never mind that a part of Ian longed to be free of all of it. He would do his duty to the land that had formed him. He'd never turn his back on his legacy. "I'll start supper in a little bit. Just give me a minute." He needed a shower and a brief respite from the never-ending list of problems. He turned to go, then halted and faced his father. None of this was what his dad had wanted, either.
"It's my turn to do the worrying, Dad," he said gently. "You've spent your entire life watching over this place. I promise you I won't lose it." He was still searching for a compromise his father could live with, but the old-school ways didn't work anymore.
"Let's go see Georgia's girl," his father said.
"What?"
The head more silver than dark now rose. "I said, let's go see Georgia's girl now. Find out what she's up to."
A bone-deep reluctance stirred inside Ian. He had absolutely no desire to be close to Scarlett Ross, and not because she didn't appeal to him.
She appealed to him way too much.
She had guts, he'd have to give her that. She'd walked into a strange place that was surely as foreign to her as New York City would be to him, yet she hadn't held back, hadn't quailed at stepping in when she was needed.
And she was saucy as all get-out. Tough, too, even if he hadn't given her much credit that first morning. She'd tried to fix her own flat, she simply didn't have the muscles to do it—but still, she'd wanted to pitch in.
And she didn't take guff off anyone. He grinned. For sure not from him.
He'd gotten over being so mad this morning. He'd never liked holding a grudge. No, she wouldn't stay and she wasn't his type, not one bit, but he could enjoy her company while she was here, couldn't he? The thought of a little more sparring with Miss Scarlett had his mouth turning up at the corners. Let that saucy tongue and those lush lips of hers occupy a mind that spent most of its time full of worry.
They didn't have money to burn, not if the ranch was to survive, but Ruby's prices were so reasonable that it was hard to do better cooking at home, even if he were any good at more than the basics.
And his dad'
s eyes were sparkling at the notion.
Maybe as much as his own were.
"Yeah, we could," he answered his father. "I need to talk to her about the work day at Veronica's, anyway." He could try again. Not lose his temper this time.
His conscience rolled its eyes at him. You could cover that with a phone call.
Inwardly he shrugged. So what? They had to eat, didn't they? And after a day like today, someone else's cooking sounded damned appealing. "I'll just go get cleaned up."
His father smiled as though he saw right though him.
But Ian refused to let that bother him. New York was one fine cook. He hadn't gotten to taste her biscuits this morning, but he'd run across Harley Sykes, who swore up and down that Ruby couldn't have done better.
And their business would help Ruby out, after all.
Oh, you are pathetic.
Ian chuckled as he ascended the stairs to his room.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
She hadn't been walking as much as usual, that was made clear as Scarlett climbed the three stories with more difficulty than normal.
She peered around her a bit as she climbed, but she still didn't feel all that comfortable leaving the café, however much the respite called to her. What she saw, though, made her itch to return in full daylight. The steps were marble, the railings beautifully carved, if grimy from wear and neglect. What might be oak panels lined the walls at chair rail height—again, dinged and stained by time and grime, but the craftsmanship, she thought, was excellent.
Ideas began to stir, and they helped distract her from the burning in her quads.
She really, really had to make time for a proper workout.
At last she reached the top level and opened a door to the belfry. She crossed the wooden floor and skirted around an enormous bell to reach the nearest opening. Cobwebs swung from up high, perfect horror story material.
But when she reached the opening, she gasped.
Even in the lavender light of approaching night, the hills spilled out before her in glorious row after row of curves dotted with trees, with the first few stars twinkling their frozen white light from above.
Scarlett drew her jacket closer. Shivered a little.
And drew in a deep breath for the first time since she'd seen the sign for Sweetgrass Springs.
Texas Roots: The Gallaghers of Sweetgrass Springs Page 11
