Texas Roots: The Gallaghers of Sweetgrass Springs Read online

  He punched Tank's number into his phone.

  "Patton."

  "Tank, it's Ian."

  "What do you want?"

  "My fence is down. Some of my cattle are on your place. My men are rounding them up, and I'm headed there now."

  "They better not tear up my pasture."

  Which you're not using, Ian thought but didn't say. "We'll get them out as quick as we can. I have no idea what happened to the fence." The shared fence that only he bothered to take care of.

  But he didn't say that, either.

  "They better be out of there before I get back."

  Another rancher would have offered help. But this was Tank.

  "They will be. See you." Unless I get lucky.

  "I'll be checking tonight. Anything's damaged, you'll be hearing from me."

  "Understood." Ian disconnected and restricted himself to tossing the phone onto the dash since he couldn't throw something at Tank's head.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Ian pulled into the drive of Butler's Blooms, the flower farm Veronica was trying to keep functioning without David and, best he could tell, going without sleep to do it. He huffed out a breath to rid himself of Tank's malice before he had to talk to the only worthwhile member of the Patton family.

  He spotted her leaving one of the four greenhouses he'd helped David build, juggling four buckets of blooms. He rushed to help her.

  "Mornin'."

  "Good morning," she replied with a tired smile.

  A few years back, Veronica had had the notion to turn her green thumb into a sideline business, and she and David had discovered that flowers were a much better return on the money than growing vegetables. Now, nearly five years later, the sideline had become their main source of income. They'd still raised the cattle for their own beef and a few cow-calf pairs to sell every year, plus they had hens for eggs and their own vegetable garden. They'd both been working hard, but they'd been surviving quite well, with business growing all the time.

  Until David had died when his tractor had accidentally jumped into gear when he was clearing a limb from the shredder and had run him over, leaving Veronica to juggle everything plus three grieving children, all by herself.

  She'd lost too much weight, and she always looked weary.

  And this was the slow season.

  Veronica couldn't keep things going indefinitely, not at this rate. She didn't talk about it, but Ian was pretty sure they'd taken out a loan to build the last two greenhouses and buy some equipment not long before David died.

  He helped her as often as he could, but it wasn't enough.

  And this morning he had cows to round up.

  "Bad morning?" he heard her ask.

  He set the buckets in the back of the beat-up van she used for deliveries. "I've seen worse. How are you?"

  She smiled—she always smiled—but it wasn't reflected in her eyes. "Tell me the secret to teenage boys, and you'll make my day."

  "Drown 'em when they're young is the only fix, at least that's what my dad said fairly often."

  She grinned. "Too late for that, and I'm pretty attached to Ben, it's just—"

  Ben was fifteen and had taken his father's death hard, but he'd buried his grief and pitched in to help his mother—only now, nearly a year down the road, the toll was showing on him, too. But his way of dealing with his mourning was to act out. "My dad's solution was to work me until I was ready to drop. Kept me out of mischief."

  "Nothing kept the Four Horsemen out of mischief."

  He grinned back and shrugged. "Think how much worse it could have been."

  She shuddered dramatically. "Doesn't bear thinking about. Want some coffee?"

  "Wish I could, but I already had two cups at Ruby's, and Billy tells me my cattle are out on your land."

  "Tank's land, not mine. I'm so sorry. Does he know?"

  He nodded.

  "And he was awful, right? Want me to talk to him?"

  "You don't have enough on your plate? So what's on today's menu?"

  "Ian, you don't have to check in on me every day. I'll be fine."

  Instead of arguing, he entered the greenhouse. "You ready for me to rebuild that set of plant benches yet?"

  "I can swing a hammer, you know. I helped David build these."

  He cast her a skeptical glance. "Yeah, I've always been wowed by those biceps, champ." Even if she didn't look as though a puff of air would blow her away, she was clearly too exhausted to be doing this by herself.

  "I can do anything I have a mind to."

  "Nobody's saying you're not gutsy, honey, but you have three children to care for in addition to this place, which was a difficult task even when you and David were doing it together. You look like you could sleep for a week."

  "Ben can help me when he gets home from school. You have cattle to round up."

  "It'll be dark an hour after he gets home on the bus. Let me get a hammer and a pry bar from my truck, and I'll tear these old ones out before I go."

  She put her hands on her hips and shook her head. "I am doing fine, Ian. It's just hard this first year to figure out how to scale this to what I can manage—but I will manage."

  "You do that, but in the meantime, I’m getting out my tools."

  Veronica sighed. "David wouldn't want you burning the candle at both ends."

  "David would want me watching over his family, same as I know he'd do for me." He paused. "God, I miss him."

  Her eyes filled. "He was a good man."

  "He loved you and those kids like crazy."

  "He loved you, too, you and Jackson and Mackey."

  They were both silent for a moment, thinking of long-absent friends.

  "I heard from Mackey last week, did I tell you? He's doing stunts for Russell Crowe now. Some action movie where a lot of stuff gets blown up."

  She followed him out to his truck while he retrieved his tools. "Right up his alley. I bet he loves it."

  "Not as much as he loved being in the SEAL teams."

  "I can see that. But being a stuntman should help satisfy his need for adrenaline. He always was in constant motion."

  "He thought up every ill-fated prank we ever got involved in."

  "Starting with David's broken arm when you were about ten?"

  "Yep. Mackey decided jumping out of the hayloft would be fun." Ian began walking back to the greenhouse beside her.

  "Those were good times."

  "Easy for you to say—" He halted. "Sorry. I didn't mean—"

  "It's okay, Ian. Really." But her eyes were dark with sorrow.

  He felt it, too. Nothing was the same anymore, and innocent times held a particular sweetness in memory. Being an adult was a little short on the fun factor—lately, anyway.

  Time for a change of mood. "You hear about the excitement at Ruby's this morning yet?"

  "What? She told Arnie yet again that she won't marry him?"

  "Actually, part of the news isn't that great—Ruby fell and was also burned by hot grease."

  "Oh no! Is she okay?"

  "I tried to get her to let me take her to the doctor, but you know Ruby."

  "Just a wee bit hardheaded?"

  "She swears she's fine and that the burns are no worse than others she's had."

  "Tell me she's not back cooking already. I could go help if—"

  He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, because you have so much free time on your hands."

  "We all pitch in where we need to in Sweetgrass."

  He huffed a laugh. "Except for Veronica, who never wants to accept any help."

  "Ian…"

  "I know, I know. You have to figure this out yourself. I must just like the sound of my own voice, I guess." Seeing her frown, he shifted the conversation. "I'm going back this evening to check on her, using Dad as an excuse. How about if Ben joins us for supper? Let me spend a little time with him."

  "You know he would love that, but—"

  "But nothing." He rushed on before she could argue more. "Any
way, here's the real news: you don't need to go help cook because there's already someone else there doing it."

  "Oh? Who?"

  "A bona fide fancy-pants chef. Trained in Paris, no less."

  Veronica blinked. "How on earth did someone like that get to Ruby's? Or Sweetgrass, for that matter?"

  He rocked back on his heels. "Well, that's the thing—she says she's Ruby's granddaughter."

  Her mouth dropped open. "Get out of town. Ruby has a granddaughter?"

  He shrugged. "Maybe."

  "You don't like her? Do you think she's taking advantage of Ruby somehow?"

  "I didn't say that. I mean, sure she's bossy and kinda snotty, got that city girl thing going, but…what's in it for her? It's not like Ruby is rolling in the dough, and why would a fancy chef want anything to do with Sweetgrass Springs?" His own mother sure hadn't.

  Veronica's brows snapped together. "Maybe I had better pay a visit to Ruby's, too."

  "You and the girls would be welcome to join us."

  She waved him off. "No, that would ruin Ben's special time with you." Her head cocked. "I don't like to think of anyone hurting Ruby, and you know how she's grieved over Georgia. We need to watch out for her. I will be paying a visit very soon."

  "Good," Ian said, and went to work tearing down benches. "But for now, you go inside and put your feet up. I'll leave when I'm done here and come back tomorrow afternoon to start the new ones. Ben can help me when he gets home."

  "I am not putting my feet up."

  He shook his head. "Suit yourself, hard case." But he softened his command with a grin. "Now get out of my hair. I'll be by to pick up Ben at six."

  "Yes, sir." She snapped off a sharp salute and left.

  * * *

  Scarlett reached up to the order wheel to see what was next—

  Only to realize the wheel was empty. She blinked and came up from that zone she inhabited when her mind and her hands were focused completely on the preparation of food.

  "It's after two. The lunch rush is over," Ruby said.

  They hadn't spoken much in the last hour or so while Scarlett's focus had narrowed to the dance of cooking, her visual field the grill and the prep area behind her. She zeroed in on her grandmother. "How are you holding up?"

  "I'm fine."

  But Scarlett could see the strain. "You should rest."

  Ruby's back stiffened as she prepared to argue. Surprisingly, however, she didn't. "I generally sit and have a bite to eat, once I clean up and make sure everything's ready for supper."

  "Do you do it all by yourself?"

  Henry stepped up. "I help. I know how to, right?" he asked Ruby.

  Her face softened. "You do."

  "Then why don't you and I get things ready, Henry?" Scarlett said. "And you go home and rest. Unless you don't trust me," she said to Ruby.

  "I can help, too." The timid waitress, Brenda, spoke from the doorway.

  Scarlett smiled at her. "Thank you."

  Jeanette walked up behind her, and Brenda scooted away to the side. "I'll keep an eye on everybody, Ruby." Her eyes were hard, her expression unflinching.

  "I don't need supervision," Scarlett said.

  "The three of them can get started on prep," Ruby decided. "You come with me—oh, shoot. I have to make Gordon's cobbler first."

  "I can make a cobbler. Any idiot can."

  "Not like Ruby's," Jeanette insisted.

  Scarlett rolled her eyes. "Hello? What part of trained chef do you not get?"

  "They don't make cobbler in Paris or wherever you've been."

  "They make much more difficult and challenging dishes." She was right in Jeanette's face now.

  "You're not helping Ruby by fighting," Henry said quietly.

  Scarlett glanced over and realized Ruby's face was tight with strain. She exhaled and stepped back. "Okay. Brenda, you walk Ruby home. I'll get started on the cobbler. That way Ruby and everyone—" She glared at Jeanette "—can taste it and see while there's plenty of time to redo it." She arched an eyebrow at Ruby.

  Ruby's lips curved slightly. "Fine. Except first you come with me."

  "Why?"

  "You got plenty of time to make a cobbler. Thought you might want to see where you're staying."

  Protest burst from Jeanette's lips, but it might have come from her own. Staying? Truthfully, Scarlett hadn't thought past the plates she was filling. "I don't need—"

  "There are no fancy hotels in Sweetgrass—no hotels or motels at all, actually. If you intend to help out tonight, you don't need to be driving another hour after closing. I wouldn't do that to my worst enemy, much less family."

  Family. A pang struck Scarlett, a hunger for that sense of connection. "I don't want to impose…"

  Ruby snorted. "I don't know how folks do things in the big city, but around here, family isn't just a word. You'll stay with me. I have plenty of room."

  "Until the next stray comes along," Jeanette muttered.

  Henry's face took on color, while Brenda blanched.

  Scarlett wasn't sure why, but she was sure of one thing: Jeanette was a bully, and Scarlett knew how to deal with that.

  But she also needed Jeanette's help in running the diner tonight. If Scarlett had her way, Ruby would be staying home and resting. She turned back to the other woman and spoke softly. "Look, you don't have to like me, but Ruby needs our help. If I can get her to stay home and rest, can we call a truce?"

  The waitress appeared startled, but she quickly covered it. "Of course." She turned away, then back abruptly. "Good luck with getting her to chill, though." Her tone actually seemed slightly sympathetic.

  Scarlett had to smile. "I suspect I'll need it."

  Then she followed Ruby to the door. "Shall we take my car?"

  "Not hardly," Ruby said, pointing to the big two-story red brick house out the back door. "There it is."

  Wow. The structure was impressive, even though the white trim was peeling in spots. She matched her pace to Ruby's, taking the older woman's elbow and noting that Ruby's gait was pained. "How much do you hurt?"

  "I am perfectly fine, missy."

  "You know you're not. I can't help you if you won't be honest with me."

  Ruby halted at the back steps. Faced her. "Is that what you want, to help me?" Her eyes searched Scarlett's face. "Why are you just now showing up here?"

  "I didn't know you existed until two weeks ago."

  "Why not?" She frowned, then comprehension dawned. "You mean Georgia never…?"

  The hurt she saw in the older woman's eyes made her wish she didn't have to answer, but the truth was the truth. "She told me we had no family." Scarlett pressed her lips together before continuing. "But I won't hear you criticize my mother. She was everything to me."

  Ruby closed her eyes for a second, then opened them. "Well, of course she was. You're her child, aren't you? I just wish…" She shook her head. "I don't understand why she lied to you."

  "You weren't in touch at all?"

  Misery such as she'd seldom seen swam in Ruby's gaze. "Georgia ran away when she was seventeen. And don't ask me why because I don't know, except that she always wanted to be anywhere but where she was."

  Scarlett blinked, seeing her mother in a different light but unwilling to expose her to anyone's criticism. But as she thought about how different her life might have been if she'd had a clue that there was anyone else in the world who cared about her, her heart ached. "Growing up, I would have sold my soul for a grandmother."

  Ruby gripped her hand hard, just for a second. "Well, now you have one." She cleared her throat, then went silent for a moment, her gaze scanning the house. "The Gallaghers were part of Sweetgrass Springs from the beginning, and this was my aunt Margaret's home. I grew up out on the ranch, but she took me in when—"

  Scarlett waited for Ruby to finish, but she didn't.

  And she didn't feel like she could pry, so she switched topics. "You have a ranch?" Scarlett couldn't begin to absorb the notion of being rel
ated to anyone who owned one.

  "Not really. I mean, it's part mine, but my nephew James lives there. It mostly belongs to him and his children." She glanced over. "Your cousins."

  Cousins. "I never imagined…" She shook her head. "It was always just Mama and me. How many of them are there?"

  "I had a brother William, but he's gone now. He had James and another son, Sam, who lived in Morning Star up near Abilene, but he's passed on, too. Sam's two sons, Boone and Mitch, are still there. James has three children. Jackson and Penelope are twins. Clarissa is the younger sister, and she still lives on the ranch."

  Her head was spinning, trying to keep track. "But not the others?"

  "Pen is a big-shot lawyer on the East Coast and Jackson, well…Jackson's been gone a long time. But that's another story." Ruby's eyes were dark with grief. "We have a lot to talk about. Come on inside, will you?"

  Scarlett spared one more glance from the sidewalk up to the rooftop, trying to encompass the idea that she had a connection to this house. To a ranch.

  To a family.

  She'd had a lot of bold ideas in her life, but this one was nearly beyond her to assimilate. "Cousins? Really?"

  Ruby smiled. "Jackson and Penelope are older than you, I expect. Boone and Mitch are the oldest cousins. There's also a half-sister Lacey. Rissa is the youngest, close to your age, I'm guessing—how old are you?"

  "Thirty-two."

  "Thirty-two…so Georgia would have had you not long after she left. Who's your daddy?"

  "I never met him." You and I only need each other, baby girl, her mother had said all the years Scarlett was growing up.

  "Guess I shouldn't be surprised. Girl was as wild as a March hare."

  Scarlett started to leap to her mother's defense, but in truth, Georgia had fit that description in some ways, especially when Scarlett was younger. Still, she would never have dreamed her mother could have been hiding so much.

  She'd misjudged Andre badly, and if she knew so little about her mother, the closest person on earth to her, what else in her life was she wrong about?

  And what did she do now? She couldn't, in good conscience, leave town without knowing Ruby was in shape to resume her cooking, but that would only be a matter of days.