by Kim Law
Heather sat back in surprise. For some reason, the concept of starting her own company had never occurred to her. She’d been too mired in how everything else was “wrong.”
“Not that either of you would be doing projects just for me and Cal, by the way.” Jill took in both of them. “We’re all three still very much a part of this company. And you can always be as much a part of the show as you want.”
“I know we are,” Heather agreed. “And I know I can. But like you said, we’re changing.”
She leaned into Aunt Blu when her foster mother wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“And it’s never going to be quite the same again.” Aunt Blu said out loud what the rest of them were thinking, and the small space grew quiet with individual thoughts.
Before long, Trenton cleared her throat, the sound coming across more as a subtle break in the moment than any needed act, and without having to hear actual words, Heather understood. Her younger foster sister had been having “changing” thoughts of her own.
“I’ve been thinking,” Trenton said, and Heather found herself holding on to Blu. “The calendars that we did back in the spring . . .”
“What about them?” Jill asked when Trenton paused.
“I liked doing that. I like helping people.”
“We could easily incorporate a fund-raiser into the show,” Jill suggested. “We’d just need to present a plan first. Maybe have a couple of ideas to toss out?”
“I want to incorporate a foundation into the show,” Trenton informed them. She glanced at Aunt Blu, and Aunt Blu returned an encouraging nod. “Bluebonnet Foundation,” Trenton went on. “And I don’t want it centered around the show, but I would like to have it tied to it. I want to start the foundation off by working to provide transitional homes for young women when they have to leave foster care. Not a large house to be shared by many, but more like tiny homes, each built for one.”
The tears started in Heather. “Oh, Trenton,” she whispered. “That’s a beautiful idea.”
“From me, especially, right?” Trenton teased, but Heather knew the wall was all an act. Trenton may be hard, but she was as capable of deep emotion as the next person. “Aunt Blu and I have already talked about it,” Trenton continued, reaching over to put her hand on Blu’s knee. “And she’s willing to donate part of her land to provide space for the housing.”
Now all of them were crying.
They’d each had such a hard time when they’d first left. That’s why they’d been hiring girls who went through the system with Aunt Blu since they’d started their own company. To give the girls a place to belong, even if they had nothing else in their lives.
Heather’s chest ached to think about how they’d impacted so many other lives. How many more would be impacted because of them.
“Have you looked into starting up a foundation yet?” Jill asked.
“Only the high-level stuff. I plan to get serious about it soon, though. I’d love to break ground on the first home by January, if not before.” She exchanged another glance with Blu. “I’d planned to wait until after Jill’s honeymoon to bring this up, since things have been so crazy lately, but now seemed like the right time.”
“I’m glad you told us.” Heather leaned over and wrapped Trenton in a hug. She loved her foster sisters more than life itself.
“And I’m glad I chose now to present us all with our gifts.” Jill swiped at her eyes and held up one of her bags. “Because this week is only going to get crazier.” She kept the fourth bag tucked at her side and nodded at Heather and Trenton. “Open up.”
The three of them—Jill included—reached inside the gift bags at the same time, not bothering to remove the tissue paper, and pulled out identical ring boxes. They were no larger than an inch-and-a-half square, and Heather gave Jill a puzzled look. “You got us jewelry?”
In the construction field, none of them had ever worn much jewelry, though Heather tried to more often than the others.
“They’re thumb rings. I couldn’t think of how to say what I wanted to any better.”
Jill watched as Heather and Trenton each pried open the lids, then she let out a shaky breath as they lifted the thin bands from their cushions.
“Bluebonnets,” Heather murmured, as she took in the details of her ring. It was made up of three connecting bluebonnets, the entire thing in gold, and each flower laid out on its side in a never-ending circle. “It’s beautiful.”
“There’s an inscription.” Trenton had her ring turned to the side and was squinting to make out the words.
“The Three,” Jill said before either of them could read it. She slipped her own ring over her thumb. “Mine says, THE THREE—THE HARD ONE.”
Heather bit her lip as she read. “Mine is THE THREE—THE SOFT ONE.”
Trenton began to chuckle. “And mine says THE THREE—THE ONE WORTH THE EFFORT.”
“Jill,” Heather whispered through the fingers she’d put to her mouth. “They’re perfect.”
Trenton nodded, unable to say anything. And then they were crying again, and though things were definitely changing, Heather knew they would always be The Three.
And that they’d always have Aunt Blu.
Jill held out the final bag. “I got you something, too.”
Heather held her breath as she waited to see what Jill had picked out for Aunt Blu, but instead of digging into the small gift bag, Aunt Blu cleared her own throat. “And I’ve got to admit that I’ve been changing, too.”
Heather exchanged looks with her foster sisters. As if they’d all known this was coming.
But she wasn’t so sure they were all ready to accept it.
“You want to go out with Charlie,” Heather said before Aunt Blu had to find her words, and at the declaration, Blu’s head slowly began to nod.
“I think that I do,” she stated softly. “We’ve been talking a little.”
Her cheeks heated with the comment, and Heather had to wonder how “little” it had been. She chanced a glance at Jill and Trenton, and noted Trenton’s head tilted as if she were working through the same thought.
“Text messages, mostly,” Aunt Blu continued. She fidgeted with the ribbon on the bag. “And I know it’s crazy after all this time. Gerry’s been gone twenty years, and I’m an old woman, and all.”
Jill reached over and rested a hand over Blu’s. “Any age can find love, Aunt Blu.”
“And you’re not even old,” Heather added. Blu was only in her midfifties.
“Still . . . Charlie is younger than me. He’s only fifty-one. He’s also—”
“And you think this could be love?”
At the interruption, all of them looked at Trenton. Her words hadn’t been hard, as they too-often were when it came to discussions of love and forever, but neither had they been tender. They were just words.
“I think I’ve had no desire to get dressed up for a man since I lost my family,” Aunt Blu explained carefully. The deaths of Gerry and her girls had sent Blu into a depression that had taken years for her to climb out of, and it was a climb she’d managed only by opening Bluebonnet Farms in her family’s memory. “But as for love”—she shook her head—“that’s not even on my radar.”
“Then why now?” Trenton questioned. “What’s so special about Charlie Peterson?”
“I don’t know that there’s anything special about him,” Aunt Blu said. “I don’t know him much at all. That’s what dating will figure out. But he does make me smile, Trenton. He makes me laugh and feel young again, and he makes me want to see what it can be.”
“It’s just about sex, then?”
Heather shot Jill a panicked look. Trenton seemed to have forgotten the moment was about Aunt Blu. In fact, Heather wondered if she’d even forgotten the man in question was Waylon’s dad. She seemed to be far more stressed than she should be over the idea of their foster mother going out on a date.
Aunt Blu reached up and cupped Trenton’s chin, offering a soft smile
and a look shared just between the two of them, then she patted Trenton’s cheek and whispered, “I promise that I’ll be careful. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“I didn’t say I was worried.”
Though few people probably knew it, Trenton was closer to Aunt Blu than anyone who’d stayed at Bluebonnet Farms. Even Heather and Jill. And that’s because Trenton and her mother once lived temporarily with Blu and Gerry. Years before Trenton’s mother took off. So, there had already been a kinship between the two, even before Trenton had shown up alone at her door.
“Then if you’re not worried,” Aunt Blu continued, “is it okay if I am? Just a little?” She offered a wobbly smile to all three of them. “I’m not worried about who Charlie is. He’s not perfect, and I know that already. He regrets”—she glanced at Heather—“missing out on so much of his son’s life. And I’d imagine he’s done a few other things he isn’t exactly proud of. He’s been a single man for a lot of years, and he’s taken a lot of single-man privileges.” She tried another smile, but that one didn’t take. “But I’ve been single for a long time, too. And though the guilt is strong”—her voice dropped to a whisper—“I do want to do this. Gerry would be okay with me doing this. In fact, he’s probably mad that it’s taken me so long. But I’d like to have your blessings, too.”
“You don’t need our blessings, Aunt Blu.” It was Jill who answered.
Heather remained silent for another moment because her mind had been whirling on the obviousness of Blu’s words. She and Charlie hadn’t been talking just “a little.” They’d talked enough that Waylon had come up in conversation. Along with Charlie’s regrets.
It made Heather wonder if Charlie ever planned to speak to his son on that subject.
“Just how long have you two been talking?” she finally asked.
Again, Aunt Blu’s cheeks flushed hot. “Since the day we met.”
They’d been texting—or whatever—for almost four weeks, and none of them had had a clue.
“I’ve been busy,” Aunt Blu continued. “Too busy to do anything more than talk. Kelsie’s been at the house for the last three weeks, and she needed my attention. But also, I had to think about this. I couldn’t just say yes the first time he asked.”
So he’d been trying to get her to go out with him for a while?
Heather couldn’t help but think “like father like son.” “If he wants you, he’s not going to stop,” she told Aunt Blu, and Blu laughed softly.
“I’ve already decided the same thing.”
“And you really do like him?”
Blu cupped Heather’s chin this time, and she pressed a kiss on her forehead. “I like the giddiness that he causes.” She took in all of them, and Heather could see that though there was excitement in her eyes, there was also hesitancy. And fear. “I like the giddiness and the excitement of seeing what comes next, but I’m not going to lie and say I don’t have reservations. I’m scared the holy hell out of my mind, if you really want to know. But you’re all busy changing. Maybe it’s time for me to change a little myself.”
The honesty of the words seemed to seal the deal for all of them.
Jill spoke first. “Don’t worry, the fear will go away.”
“And the giddiness might just grow.” Heather grinned as she teased.
“And though I offer my grudging support . . .” Trenton’s words lacked earnestness, but they could all see she was faking it. She winked at Aunt Blu. “I also reserve the right to kick the man’s ass if he ever even thinks of hurting you.”
Aunt Blu tilted her head down and looked over her glasses. “Dear. You won’t be kicking alone if that man hurts me.”
“Yeah.” Heather sat up straighter. “You’ll also have me there, too.”
“And me,” Jill added.
Aunt Blu grinned like the vibrant young woman her late husband must have once seen when he’d first fallen in love with her. “And I’ll be leading the pack.”
Jill reached over then, and dipped her hand into the gift bag they’d all forgotten about, and retrieved a small broach nestled on top of a soft cushion of black velvet. She presented it to Aunt Blu as if it were the most precious object she’d ever held in her hands, and they all took a moment to admire the piece of jewelry. The broach held three sprigs of bluebonnets, identical to the ones on their rings, and when Jill flipped it over, Blu read the inscription out loud.
“THE BRAVE ONE—THE MOTHER.”
The plastic of the bucket under Heather’s rear felt a little less hard than normal, and as she looked up into Ollie’s eye, she nodded her head. “My butt is fleshier,” she told the animal. “And that’s all your owner’s fault.”
The horse neighed, and Heather imagined Ollie telling her that he had no sympathy, because his owner had chopped off his balls.
“You’re right.” She nodded. “You win. You got dealt the worst hand in this one.”
She dug another carrot out of the bag she’d brought with her and leaned back to slump against the wall of the stall. It was Friday afternoon, the day before her best friend’s wedding, and the only place Heather had wanted to be was sitting in a hay-filled stall with a horse.
“You should feel pretty special, though.” She took a bite of a carrot, herself. “I gave up going with him to pick up Rose because I missed you so much.”
With the backyard work completed on Monday, she hadn’t been out at the ranch nearly as often this week. There had been a handful of renovations with delayed timelines, and with Jill and Cal heading out for their honeymoon the following day, Heather had pitched in to help get everything caught up. It had been a long week, but it had given her a lot of time to think.
And though she’d been thinking, she still didn’t know what came next. She had some money stashed away. The investments left over from her parents’ life insurance money. She could start her own business if she wanted to. But the thing was, she didn’t know if she wanted to. It was scary to think about. She’d be on her own if she did that. Unlike when she, Trenton, and Jill had started Bluebonnet Construction.
Sink or fail, it would be on her. And what if she failed?
She tilted her head farther back. But what if she succeeded?
Closing her eyes, she wished she would hear the sound of hooves, but nothing came. Her mother wasn’t going to tell her what she needed to do, it seemed. But maybe her father would.
She made a face. Would she even listen to her father if he tried to get a message to her?
He’d been the reason her entire world had gotten ripped out from under her. She’d loved him so much, but until she’d talked about it with Waylon, she’d never let herself admit how angry she was at her dad. Even after all this time. He should have been better. He had her mom, he had her. He’d had all he’d needed. Why did he have to do something so stupid and screw it all up?
Who did that?
Why did people do that?
Ollie nudged at her hand, and she opened her eyes and fed him another carrot. “I love him, Ollie.” Her heart ached with her fear. “I’m in love with your owner, and I’m terrified of it. It could work out . . . and years down the road he could do it again. Screw up again.”
She listened for the sound of horse hooves again, and when none came, she whispered, “I don’t think I could stand by my man like she did. I’m not that strong of a person.”
She let her eyes drift closed once more. “Or he could break my heart before it ever gets that far. Like everyone else has.”
But they hadn’t, she realized. Not the way Waylon would.
She sat up at the understanding. “They didn’t break my heart, Ollie. They broke my dream. I wanted the relationship more than I’d wanted those specific men. I think my ego may have even been hurt more than my heart.”
She stood and began to pace. This was big for her.
“All this time, I’ve been thinking they crushed me.” She looked back at Ollie and shook her head. “There were signs,” she told him. “With each
of them. I ignored the signs at the time, but there were signs that they weren’t right for me. That’s why they didn’t break me. Because deep down, I never let them in that far.”
She slowed her footsteps as the next thought hit. She’d never shared her dad with them. But she had with Waylon.
“There are signs with him, too,” she told the horse. “You know there are. And I’ve been staring them straight on this whole time. So what do I do?”
She traced the gold ring circling her thumb.
“What do I do,” she repeated, this time in a whisper. “He’s lied to me already. About his past. He’s taken from others. Who’s to say he won’t do it again?”
Was she burying her head in the sand once more?
Ollie bit at her hand, and she dug out an apple. “You know you have to share with the others,” she told the horse. She caressed the hair covering his snout. “I have one more for you, but then I have to go see them, too. Give them treats, too.”
The horse nickered, and she shook her head.
“I know,” she told him. “I also have to make a decision. And I think you’re right. I need to learn to trust my judgment.”
She dropped her forehead to his.
“And my judgment says that Waylon is the one,” she whispered. “I so want him to be the one.”
A noise sounded at the front of the barn, and embarrassment hit. Charlie hadn’t gone with Waylon to pick up Rose. Instead, he’d stayed at the ranch to repair fence line.
He must already be done.
She hurried from the stall, working up how to explain his overhearing her declaration that his son was the one, but she drew up short at the sight of a man in a suit. He’d made it to the steps that led to the apartment, and when he realized she stood in front of him, he stopped.
A welcoming smile lit his face, and he reached out his right hand.
“Ms. Lindsay.” His tone was one of respect. “I’m glad I found you.”
She shook his hand. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”
“No.” He waved his hands in front of himself, his smile remaining in place. “We’ve never met, but I’ve heard of you. In fact, I’m here because I came looking for you.”
