Texas Roots: The Gallaghers of Sweetgrass Springs

by Jean Brashear

  But she'd stay right here and go bug-crazy if that's what it took to keep her granddaughter around a bit longer. And selfishly hope to give Ian McLaren a little more time to sweep that girl off her feet.

  She'd seen his truck outside the cafe, all right. Watched the two of them walk over here.

  Body language said more than people realized. Those two might have kept distance between themselves on the walk over, but their bodies still leaned toward each other, and the air around them practically sizzled.

  Scarlett could not do better than that boy.

  And Ian needed some shaking up. He was too serious. Gave up too much of himself to others.

  "You are plotting, Ruby Gallagher, don't you try to tell me you're not." Arnie glanced up the staircase, then murmured. "Best watch yourself, little girl. Your grandma has plans for you."

  "I do not." Somehow she managed to keep her lips from twitching. "I would never force her to do anything she didn't want to do. Like as not she'll hightail it out of here, just like her mama."

  "But you hope not."

  She leaned into Arnie's side, her heart aching. "I do."

  "She's awfully fond of you. Maybe she'll stay."

  Ruby wanted to believe that. Scarlett needed family worse than anyone she had ever met.

  Well, except maybe herself. "I love her so much my chest gets tight," she whispered.

  He wrapped her up in his embrace. "Everything will work out, you'll see."

  She leaned into him, this sweet, steady man who put up with so much from her. After waiting for Georgia in vain for so many years, she was trying her best not to get her hopes up.

  But it didn't seem to matter to her old, stubborn heart.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Saturday, Scarlett kept expecting to see Ian all day, and she found herself making mistakes as she glanced up, again and again, whenever the front door opened.

  "What's got you so jumpy?" Jeanette slapped down a plate. "You screwed up this order."

  Scarlett didn't even try to argue. She was a professional, and she had to leave everything else behind. "I'm sorry. What was it supposed to be?"

  "Hamburger, no onions, no cheese. Get it right this time, will you? Ruby deserves better." She walked off, nose in the air.

  "She shouldn't talk to you that way," Brenda ventured. "You're saving Ruby's bacon, and you work as hard as anyone here. More so than her." The young woman jerked her head in Jeanette's direction.

  For her to be speaking up at all was revolutionary. "But she's right. I made the mistake, and I know better." What had she been thinking, agreeing to meet Ian tomorrow? Making an appointment for sex, for heaven's sake? Nothing good could come of it.

  "Brenda's right," Henry chimed in. "Jeanette should be thanking you. We'd all be out of a job if you hadn't stepped up. You're a really good cook," he said, cheeks flaring bright with color.

  Scarlett cast aside thoughts of Ian and focused on them. "Thank you. You know, Ruby needs backup. Do either of you want to learn to cook?" She tried not to think how concerned she was that her grandmother didn't seem to be improving very rapidly.

  "I would," volunteered Brenda.

  "Me, too," said Henry.

  "Do you have any experience cooking at home?" Wherever that might have been.

  "Not me," said Henry.

  "I've cooked a little," Brenda responded.

  "How about if we get together tomor—" Tomorrow would be simplest, and she could make her excuses to Ian, but both of them worked as many hours as she did and would no doubt like some time off. "—this afternoon," she corrected. "We'll do a trial run of the special tonight, then during halftime we can do more. We'll use whoever is in the cafe as our guinea pigs." She smiled. "Are you game?"

  Both enthusiastically nodded.

  "You don't want to take a break at halftime?" Henry asked.

  In truth she would, so she could get a better look at the interior of the courthouse for an idea that had been percolating, but this need had to take precedence. "Ruby should have backup. This is more important."

  "But you'll be here," Henry said.

  She didn't try to argue. "This will give you more career options later on when you leave here."

  Henry looked alarmed. "I'm not leaving. I like it here."

  Brenda looked terrified.

  "I don't mean you have to go, just…you never know what will happen in the future. It's always good to have contingency plans." The way you do? What, exactly, are you planning to do next?

  "Look, you may not care about this place, but I do. What's the hold-up?" Jeanette complained.

  Scarlett had been working while she was talking, so she took great enjoyment from shoving the new plate under Jeanette's nose. "I cooked new fries, as well. Take this off their check, and I'll make up the difference on the check and your tip, too." She stared right back at Jeanette, daring her to bitch again.

  Brenda stood on one side of Scarlett, and Henry flanked her on the other.

  Jeanette glanced between them as if about to order them back to work, but in the end, she only shook her head and turned away.

  Scarlett almost felt sorry for her.

  Instead she nodded at first Brenda, then Henry. "Thanks." She reached for the next ticket.

  * * *

  Scarlett didn't send anyone home at closing time this night. Even if Ian showed up, she'd decided she wasn't going to risk being alone with him. Yes, their date would be for just sex, just fun—but she felt it wise to reconsider. Ian was far too attractive in more ways than the physical, and the last thing she needed was one more reason to regret having to go.

  She had to, it was that simple. None of these people deserved the trouble that could come their way if Kostov came looking for her.

  And the DA might clap her in chains, anyway. She would have to call him next week to check in and find out if there was any progress toward scheduling the trial.

  "Okay, that's everything," she said. "Great job, everyone. Enjoy your day off."

  Brenda and Henry ranged beside her again as Jeanette gathered her things and left. When she was gone, Henry spoke. "I want to come in tomorrow and practice dicing the way you showed me. That was amazing."

  To Scarlett's surprise, it was actually he who was the better cook, even with no experience. She vowed right then and there to buy him his own chef's knife. She'd caved to temptation and brought out her own, performing a little culinary wizardry with carrots and onions and celery.

  But she didn't want Henry hurting himself with no one around, and she planned to spend her morning with Ruby.

  The afternoon was supposed to be Ian's, but she'd heard not one word from him. "I can't be here with you. Could you wait and practice on Monday when things are slow?"

  Henry's voice grew quiet. "I don't really have anything to do tomorrow."

  Scarlett's shoulders sank. She wouldn't give up her time with her grandmother, but the excuse to cancel on Ian would be welcome.

  "I'll come with him. We'll both practice," Brenda volunteered.

  "I thought you wanted to go to the flower farm." He frowned.

  "I can go there some other time." From the shy glances she was giving Henry, being with him had trumped flowers.

  Scarlett hid her smile. "It's your free day to do whatever you wish with it."

  "How about we fix our own breakfast over here?" he suggested to Brenda. "That's one more thing to practice. We won't have the biscuit recipe, but—"

  "I'll give it to you. You'll need to cut it down drastically, though."

  "I'm not so great at math," he admitted.

  "I am," Brenda said shyly.

  "Good," Scarlett responded. "Just come get me if you need help."

  But the two of them were too busy smiling at each other.

  Scarlett kept her own smile to herself. She gestured them out the door and followed, making a quick detour to retrieve a photo album from her car's trunk.

  Henry and Brenda had already gone inside when she started up
the porch steps.

  Ian rose from one of the chairs. "Sorry I couldn't make it earlier. Some problems came up with the livestock and one of the hands."

  "Is everyone okay?"

  "Yeah." But when he took a step toward her, his movements weren't as fluid as usual. "You sure?"

  "Just had a bull shove me against the fence. You looking for an excuse to ditch me tomorrow?"

  "It's not— I just—" She faced him. "You know I won't be here long."

  "You could be."

  "No, I can't."

  "Because you hate this place the way your mama did?"

  "You didn't know my mother. I don't know that she hated it."

  "But you don't know that she didn't, either."

  She shook her head. She didn't understand at all. "I know I don't hate it."

  He stepped into her space. Tipped up her chin. "You might be happy here, even if it's not New York or Paris. You fit in better than I thought you would."

  "I can fit in anywhere. I've had to all my life."

  "I'm sorry for that. Everyone should belong somewhere, even if—"

  "If what?"

  "Sometimes you don't have a choice in where you belong."

  The porch light didn't cast enough illumination to be sure, but she thought she saw wistfulness on his face. "Did you ever want to belong somewhere else, Ian?"

  "Doesn't matter. I'm here." He straightened. "I'll be by to pick you up at one o'clock."

  This was her chance to back out. It was the wise choice.

  But she so very much didn't want to.

  Still, she'd better exercise some caution. "Just sex, right?" She tried to ignore how impersonal it felt to be making an appointment for sex.

  "Anything wrong with having some fun, too?"

  "Fun?" she echoed.

  "Fun." Then he stepped closer and proceeded to give her a sample of his idea of fun.

  Man, he could make her head spin.

  "See you, New York," he said, brushing a last soft kiss over her tingling lips.

  She barely resisted sighing out loud. She did stand there and watch until his lights were out of sight.

  When she finally gathered herself to go inside, she was disappointed not to find her grandmother waiting.

  But Nana's absence was equally a relief. Scarlett greatly feared she was wearing her confusion all over her face.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Ian was up early, as always. On Sundays they kept the chores to a minimum, but farm animals couldn't read a calendar. He gave the hands the day off, though, and performed what needed to be done himself before he and his dad went to church.

  But today would be different, he thought as he gathered eggs, milked the cow and checked the hay rings for the herd. After he and his dad took the easy way out and had sandwiches for lunch, he would head into town to pick up Scarlett. The day was cool but sunny, a perfect day to show her his refuge.

  He'd packed a blanket, along with some wine and cheese and fruit. Maybe he couldn't cook worth beans, but he'd scrounged the time to drive to Fredericksburg yesterday and throw himself on the mercy of a friend with a vineyard and gift shop. Scarlett was probably used to fancier—not doubt was—but he wouldn't try to compete with all the men who'd wined and dined her in big cities.

  Not that he could.

  He frowned. Feeling nervous wasn't his style. He didn't like it one bit. Anyway, this was only sex, right? He did know how to make a woman happy in bed.

  Though maybe not like those playboys she'd no doubt known.

  Damn it. He was getting cold feet.

  I wish you weren't so sexy. Abruptly he recalled her words.

  Hey, he was the Hot Cowboy, after all. He snorted, then whistled to call Blue back from his dog chores. Somebody had to pee on every fence post and weed, didn't they? Blue pulled his weight even when he wasn't herding.

  Ian glanced at his watch and discovered it was only twenty minutes past the last time he'd looked.

  Blue bounded up, tail wagging.

  "Women," Ian complained. "Be glad you're neutered, bud."

  Blue's tongue was hanging out in adoration.

  Ian crouched and gave him a good rub. "You have to stay with Dad this afternoon, pal. I'll make it up to you, promise."

  Blue licked his jaw.

  "Yeah. I'll miss you, too. Okay, not really." Ian grinned and ruffled his fur, then climbed back in the truck.

  * * *

  Scarlett woke up at four and grumbled at her body clock.

  Then she turned over and fell back asleep.

  At six the increasing light in her room did the trick, not truly daylight yet, but not night either.

  She'd dreamed of Ian—torrid, aching dreams that had her restlessly imagining how their two bodies would be together.

  He couldn't possibly look as great naked as she'd imagined him.

  But she would be so much less, with her barely-there curves. Why couldn't she have been blessed with bountiful cleavage like her mother? Georgia Ross had been centerfold material. Men had salivated over her everywhere they went.

  Scarlett looked like her kid brother.

  Well, tough, Ian McLaren. If your eyes don't already tell you there's nothing there, then shame on you.

  But he hadn't seemed disappointed when he'd had his hands all over her.

  And she did have nice legs. Long for her height, however pathetic a measuring stick that was. She shoved the covers back, disgusted with herself. If they hadn't so clinically made an appointment for sex…

  But she didn't want romance, not even the illusion of it. There was no point. She grumped her way to the bathroom and showered, being careful to be as quiet as possible so Henry and Brenda could sleep in. Then she grabbed the photo album she'd retrieved from her trunk and headed downstairs.

  At the bottom step, she halted in surprise.

  Arnie turned. "Good morning, Scarlett. May I make you some breakfast?"

  She glanced around.

  "Your grandmother's still sleeping. The Judge and Mrs. Oldham, too." He smiled. "She won't be happy I'm still here."

  He had the sweetest eyes, and his smile was infectious. "You don't like being her dirty little secret?"

  "Maybe now that you're here to take over, she'll give in. I've tried to get her to ease up for years and let me take care of her. I'm not rich, but I've been careful with my money. We could travel, or she could just relax for a change." His face was filled with longing. "We can't know how much time we have left. She carries too heavy a burden. However, I'd be glad you were here even if you weren't such a wonderful cook. You've made her so happy, simply being here." He took one hand in his. "I know I'm not your blood grandfather, Scarlett, but I'd be proud to be an honorary one."

  She felt like the lowest kind of scum. Why hadn't she thought harder before stopping here? She'd never even considered that other people besides her grandmother and herself would be affected by her decision to come. The mere notion of having a grandmother had been so surreal.

  But others were indeed involved. How could she refuse this kind man's plea to help a woman she already adored?

  Yet there was Kostov. He seemed less menacing now that she was here in Texas, but her nightmares reminded her that he was scary real.

  "I'm sorry. You just woke up. Of course you wouldn't want—I understand why I can't be—"

  "Oh, no!" She couldn't let him believe he was the one who came up short. "I can't think of anyone I'd rather have as a grandfather, Arnie." That, at least, was the truth. She'd grown fond of fixing his oatmeal and one egg every morning while chatting with him a little.

  Even if she'd never suspected that he was her grandmother's lover. Her smile came naturally. Go, Nana, indeed.

  Then the woman herself walked in. "What on earth are you doing still here?"

  Arnie winked at Scarlett, unfazed. "Fixing breakfast for two beautiful ladies."

  "Oh, you old goat. Now get on out of here. Scarlett, I don't know what he's told you—"

 
"Give it up, Nana." she chuckled. "I like Arnie. And the only shame here is that you're hiding him."

  "Oh, see here—" Her grandmother blustered.

  Scarlett deftly derailed her rant. "I have a photo album I thought you might like to see."

  That did the trick. Soon they were ensconced at the table next to each other, poring over photos of Scarlett's life with her mother.

  "She's not in many of these," Ruby pointed out.

  "I'm sorry for that. She took most of them, and it was just the two of us."

  Ruby traced Georgia's features in one photo, then turned to Scarlett, eyes suspiciously bright. "I hate that you two were alone. Your father really never…?"

  "Mama said he was a six-week mistake, but she wasn't sorry because she got me out of the deal." Scarlett shrugged. "We had each other. It was enough." But she wondered all over again why her mother had chosen to leave everything familiar.

  "Would you like to look through her drawings?"

  "I would love that."

  "Do we have time, Arnie?" Ruby asked.

  "Take all the time you want, sweetheart."

  Ruby's forehead creased as though she wanted to chide him for the term of endearment, and Scarlett couldn't stifle a grin.

  But her grandmother didn't say anything as she led Scarlett out of the room.

  "Should you be climbing stairs?"

  "Now don't you start in on me. I have more than enough nursemaids around here." Ruby gestured for quiet since everyone upstairs was still sleeping, and she made her way to the door at the end of the hall that was always closed.

  Inside was a wonderland that stole Scarlett's breath. "It looks like you kept everything."

  "I did," Ruby said sadly.

  Scarlett couldn't look around fast enough. Bookshelves filled with dolls and books she wanted to take down and read. A cork bulletin board loaded with notes and pictures torn from magazines. And the walls…

  "She really had talent, didn't she?" On one wall was a sketch that was surely Ruby, only a much younger one. "You're beautiful, Nana."

  "Not hardly. Maybe once, a little, but not now, for sure."

  Scarlett tore her gaze away. "I think you are." Her eyes filled. "I wish I understood why she never told me about you. I'm so sorry, Nana," she whispered. "But I can't love her less. She only had me."