Texas Strong (26 page)

Later after they had eaten their fill, Thad rubbed his belly. “Aunt Laura, you’re the best cook in the world.”

“Your mama is a good cook, too,” Tank said. “No offense, Mrs. Cameron.”

“Laura, please. And no offense taken, Deputy.”

“Tank, ma’am.”

Laura winced. “Could we ditch the
ma’am
? You make me feel a thousand years old. How old are you, Tank? Surely I’m not a crone yet.”

He grinned. “Thirty-seven and no, you’re hardly a crone.”

“Better. Even if I could have been your babysitter.”

A grim smile. “Never had one of those, but I’d have liked you. Were you a good cook then, too?”

“She got started early,” Chrissy remarked. “She practically raised me. Our mother wasn’t into domesticity.”

“That she wasn’t. She tried when I was little, but then my parents divorced, and as a single mother she was too busy trying to juggle her job and raising me.”

Chrissy saw his forehead wrinkle. “We have different dads. I was born when Laura was twelve.”

“Dad—your father—was a really great stepfather, though.”

“You were the sweet daughter he wished for,” Chrissy answered. “I was—” She halted when she realized her children were listening too closely.

Laura came to her rescue once again. “So tell me about your place. Your family was one of the founders of Sweetgrass Springs, am I right?”

“Yes, ma—Laura,” he corrected. “There were four men who fought together in the fight for Texas independence from Mexico. After the war, when Texas was a country of its own, land grants were given to the veterans, and the four men chose their parcels to be next to one another. Then they each donated a piece at the corners that adjoined, and that became the town of Sweetgrass Springs.”

“And your family has been here ever since?”

Chrissy watched her sister smile and noted how much more relaxed he was with her sister or the kids than he was with her.

“Yes, but I don’t know a lot about them. My grandparents were gone before I was born, and my—” He shook his head. “History wasn’t spoken of much when I was growing up.”

“What do you know about your first ancestor? Anything?”

“Ronald Patton. He was a blacksmith. That was a useful trade in frontier days. The Gallaghers, the Butlers and the McLarens had all come from different places, but they formed a bond during the war, so afterward, they threw in their lots together.”

Chrissy wanted to ask at what point that bond was severed. Had it been only his father who’d done that and if so, how had he come to be a man who could treat his family so abominably? But even if those questions weren’t so personal, she didn’t want to make him throw up any new barriers between them.

“So did your ancestor kill a lot of people? Did he ever fight Indians?”

Tank winced.

“Thad!”

Tank shook his head at her before he answered. “Violence is to be avoided whenever possible, Thad. Those men were fighting for freedom, and yes, they took lives, I’m sure, but they were doing it for the sake of their families and later, to protect their homes.”

“You have a gun. Have you killed anybody?”

“Thad! That’s enough, young man.” She knew her voice was whip-sharp, but of all the men who didn’t need to be asked that question…

Again, however, Tank answered her son. “I haven’t, and I hope to heaven I never do. I sometimes deal with violent people, and I’m charged with protecting others, so I carry a weapon, but any good peace officer does everything possible to avoid having to use it.”

“I’m sorry,” she began. “Thad, you shouldn’t be asking Tank these questions.”

“It’s okay,” Tank said. “They’re honest questions, and the boy deserves answers.”

“I didn’t mean to do the wrong thing, Mom.” Thad’s distress was clear. “I’m sorry, Big Theo.”

Tank scooped up the boy and held him on his lap. “It’s really okay. Don’t worry over it.” He glanced up, his eyes telling her the same thing.

Laura dipped in with another diversion, this time asking about his plans for his land. Tank answered her, and the discussion ranged from there over a variety of topics.

The warm day and their full stomachs began to have an effect, and she soon noticed that Thad was falling asleep against Tank’s broad chest. He held the boy secure with one big hand, while Becky leaned against Laura, her own lids drooping.

“I guess we should go,” she said, with a pointed glance.

He looked down, and the tenderness in his gaze made her heart ache. “He’s a good boy, Chrissy. They’re both sweet kids. You’ve done a wonderful job of raising them.”

“Hear, hear,” Laura agreed. “She focuses too much on what she wishes she could do and not enough on her accomplishments. And she’s lousy at accepting help.”

Tank smiled a little. “I noticed.”

“Thank you for being there for her,” Laura said.

“Oh, well, I didn’t—” He tried to shrug off what he’d done.

“Someone else appears to be uncomfortable taking credit for doing good things,” she noted.

Tank rose in one smooth move of his powerful muscles, holding Thad to him without disturbing the boy. “I’ll just take him to the truck, then I can help with Becky.”

“Thank you,” Chrissy said to her sister as she gathered up the picnic supplies. “It kills me how he feels so apart from everyone.”

“You’re right. He’s a good man. And fortunate to have you on his side.”

“He doesn’t think so. He’s too busy backpedaling, trying to protect me from his reputation.”

“Which only makes me like him more,” Laura responded. “Don’t give up on him.”

“I’m not the one running away.” Chrissy sighed. “But I have to think of the kids first. It’s not the right time in my life for a man, especially one who’s so complicated. I’m just trying to be his friend.”

“Uh-huh,” her sister replied.

“You know my track record. My judgment can’t be trusted.”

“Your heart can, though. That’s a man who needs love.”

“But he doesn’t want it. Fights it with every breath.”

Laura shook her head. “Not how it looks from here. He may fight it, but not because he doesn’t want it.”

“I can’t hope for that. I’ve already made a fool of myself. The ball is in his court now.”

Tank neared, and Chrissy busied herself clearing their picnic site, unable to look at him, now cradling her daughter in his strong arms, while her heart was in her eyes.

But she couldn’t help hoping that today might be a sign that he was thawing. That he could see himself in a new light.

Chapter Twelve

B
ridger walked around the newly-finished clinic space, amazed and delighted by all he saw. For now he couldn’t staff it on a regular basis, but whenever he was at the fire station, it would be open, and he’d meet people here for emergencies. Then maybe one day Molly would be finished with her residency, and he could convince her to join him. Or maybe Jake Cameron or one of the nurses he’d given his card to would be interested in small town living or—

His cell rang. “Bridger Calhoun.”

“Jake Cameron here.”

Bridger’s eyebrows flew. Had he turned psychic? “Hey, there. How’s it going?”

“Good, good—” Jake sighed loudly. “Actually, not so good. I need your help.”

Not what Bridger had wanted to hear when his hopes had soared at the identity of his caller. “What can I do?”

Another hefty sigh. “I seem to have lost my wife.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, well, I know where she is, but…”

At least Bridger wasn’t put in the position of lying to a man he’d love to lure here. He’d met Chrissy’s sister at the final work day. Not a word had been said, though, about her being more than a visitor. “But…?”

“Okay, look, remember how we talked about all those shifts I’ve been working?”

“I do.”

“The thing is, I missed a very important day for us as a couple, and now she’s left me.”

If anything Bridger’s brows flew higher. “Oh.”

“Yeah. I screwed up, big-time. I love that woman like no one else on earth, but damn it, I thought she understood how important—”

Bridger couldn’t stem his chuckle. His Penelope had been like this about her job in D.C. “You’re indispensable, right?”

“I’m needed here. We’re perpetually swamped—you saw it yourself.” Jake’s pique showed in his voice.

“Did she always come second in your life?”

“Whoa, now—it’s not like that. It’s just—”Jake heaved another sigh. “Yes. It’s exactly like that. Only I didn’t notice.”

“How long have you been married, Jake?”

“Twenty-six years.”

Bridger fought his smile. “I haven’t even been married a year yet, and I’m real clear on how badly you screwed up. Were you always like this?”

“No. Just since I switched to trauma from plastics.”

Jake’s disgruntled tone had Jake shaking his head. “So you had this nice nine-to-five life doing plastics, plenty of time off, boatloads of money, right?”

“So what? What I’m doing now is more important.”

“I’m not arguing that. I’m grateful as hell that you chose it. But how old are you, Jake?”

“Fifty-one.”

“So, what, a good twenty years older than the rest of your staff?”

“What of it?”

“No point at all,” he backtracked. “What can I do for you?”

“I need to seduce my wife.”

“Whoa there—” Bridger shook his head. “I think that’s all on you, dude. You need help with that after all these years of experience with her?” Man, oh man…

“No! What I need is someplace around there to take her. Got any honeymoon suites?”

Bridger snorted. “We don’t even have a motel. Got one B&B, but you do not want the Benefields listening in while you…you know.”

“I don’t know that I can kidnap her and get her back to Austin without being armed.”

Bridger grinned. “Hold on.” He did some rapid thinking. Jackson had built himself and Veronica a little getaway on a plot of land on the way to Fredericksburg. His buddy said that with all their children and all his geeks in town, he and she could never get time alone, so he’d created them a little escape cabin almost no one knew about. “I might have something in mind. It’s not for rent, but you might be able to borrow it.”

“Seriously? I would so owe you, man.”

“I know exactly how you can pay me back.”

“How?”

“If this works out, come put in a day at the new clinic we just finished.”

“Just one day?”

I’m betting we can hook you on more
. But he wouldn’t push. “Yeah. One day. You can help me test drive it.”

“That was fast work.”

“The whole town pitched in last weekend.”

“Sort of like the old-fashioned barn-raisings?”

“Exactly like that. We pull together around here.”

“That’s impressive. So will you let me know soon about the cabin?”

“I’ll call my buddy right now and get back to you.”

“Thank you. Man, I miss that woman.”

“I hear that.” All he had to do was remember walking away from Penelope because she was convinced their worlds could never mesh.

The day she strolled into his fire station, coming to claim him, on those long, long legs, wearing her red cowboy boots, was a memory he’d hold close forever.

Tuesday was busier than Monday had been, and Henry gratefully accepted her help. Laura thought she’d gotten pretty good at the grill, though mostly she was doing prep work for him.

Then the air around them changed. A voice spoke from behind her. “So you’re the one who’s pitching in?”

Laura turned to see an older woman with bottle-black hair studying her. She was barely over five feet tall.

“I hope you don’t mind. I love to cook, but I’ve never cooked on restaurant equipment before. Henry was kind enough to show me some tricks on the grill, and I wanted to repay him by doing prep work. You must be Mrs. Howard.” Laura started to hold out her hand but realized she had tomato juice all over it and quickly cleaned it off with a rag. “I’m Laura Cameron. Chrissy’s sister.”

“And Dr. Jake’s wife, I hear.”

With a lump in her throat, Laura nodded. “Yes.” For now, at least.

“We’re mighty fond of Dr. Jake around here.”

“I heard. He saved your granddaughter and her baby.”

“He did. We owe him so much.”