A Texas Bond Read online

  “How long do you plan to stay?”

  “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “However long it takes.”

  All he wanted was to get back to Houston where his parents needed him. He didn’t have time to camp out in Medina and appease the twins’ aunt. But they obviously didn’t trust each other and how else could they ever work this out, living four hours apart?

  “Here’s an idea. I could work for you, building furniture or as a ranch hand. While I work for you, I could get to know my niece and nephew. How does that sound?”

  “Too good to be true.” Her eyes narrowed. “Do you have a criminal record?”

  He laughed. “I’m the older, wiser brother. I spent the first twenty years of my life cleaning up Ron’s messes. I guess I still am in a way.”

  “My niece and nephew are not messes.”

  “That’s not what I meant. The situation is a mess. That he never told me or my folks they existed.”

  Something in her eyes softened. “If you’re serious about the job...you’re hired.”

  Shannon Taylor Vannatter is a stay-at-home mom, pastor’s wife and award-winning author. She lives in a rural central Arkansas community with a population of around one hundred, if you count a few cows. Contact her at shannonvannatter.com.

  Books by Shannon Taylor Vannatter

  Love Inspired

  Hill Country Cowboys

  Hill Country Redemption

  The Cowboy’s Missing Memory

  A Texas Bond

  Texas Cowboys

  Reuniting with the Cowboy

  Winning Over the Cowboy

  A Texas Holiday Reunion

  Counting on the Cowboy

  Love Inspired Heartsong Presents

  Rodeo Ashes

  Rodeo Regrets

  Rodeo Queen

  Rodeo Song

  Rodeo Family

  Rodeo Reunion

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.

  A TEXAS BOND

  Shannon Taylor Vannatter

  Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.

  —Proverbs 22:6

  I dedicate this book to readers.

  Without y’all, I wouldn’t get to do this.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  Excerpt from A Secret Amish Crush by Marta Perry

  Chapter One

  “Great bones.” The upholstery tacks popped loose with a satisfying thwack, releasing dust in a cloud around Stacia Keyes’s head. She readjusted her mask as she pulled the ancient fabric and batting away from the wingback chair.

  “What a beauty.” Daddy looked up from the bookshelf he was building out of old chippy-painted window shutters. “She’ll soon be regal again.”

  “What do you think of this fabric?” Stacia laid the rose gold-and-taupe-striped upholstery over the back.

  “Freshen the legs with mahogany stain, and she’ll be a perfect addition to 3 Gals’ Treasures.” Daddy used the nail gun to secure a bead board panel to the shutters.

  Her mom’s dream antique and vintage shop—now Stacia’s since her mom and her sister were both gone—was in the heart of Medina, Texas Hill Country. Along with Daddy’s demolition business, the store specialized in repurposing salvaged materials.

  “We have an update on heavy metal rock star, Ronny Outrageous.”

  Her attention zeroed in on the TV as the breath stilled in her lungs. A picture of him in full goth makeup popped up beside the blond news anchor. Daddy grabbed the remote, bumped up the sound.

  “As we reported, last weekend Ronny Outrageous was in a deadly tour bus accident. His condition has continued to stabilize and the fan favorite was moved from the ICU into a private room today. Fans have flooded city parks across Los Angeles and his home state of Texas, holding vigil for the heavy metal singer.”

  A shot of the accident site piled with cards, flowers and stuffed animals filled the screen followed by a clip of a crowd of well-wishers holding smartphones, swaying in unison.

  “As #GetWellRonny trends across social media, fans hold placards of love and affection, waiting, hoping to be interviewed so the singer can hear their sentiments.”

  The television went dark.

  “That’s enough of that.” Daddy set the remote down.

  “What if he comes for the twins?” Her greatest fear since he’d signed them over to her after her sister died three years ago.

  “Don’t go borrowing trouble.” Daddy gave her hand a squeeze. “He signed away his rights. Twice. They’re five now. Since he hasn’t wanted them all these years, he’s not going to start now.”

  “Facing death changes people.” Her voice cracked.

  “Some folks are too selfish to change. He’ll recover and get on with his career.” Daddy went back to work on the bookshelf. The thwack of his nail gun filled the air for the next several minutes, and then he picked up the level, checking each side. “I forgot to tell you I saw Adrian at the grocery store the other day. He asked about you. Always does.”

  “I don’t know why. He’s the one who broke things off.”

  “It’s perfectly normal for a single guy to get nervous when the girl he’s dating takes on twins to raise. But things have settled down now. Maybe you could give him another chance.”

  “He told me he wanted his own kids to raise, not someone else’s, Daddy. That’s pretty straightforward.” She hadn’t been serious about Adrian and never told him she’d inherited her mom’s heart defect. “I told you I was about to break things off anyway. We weren’t a good match.”

  “You have no idea how proud I am of you for taking on the responsibility of raising Mason and Madison. I mean, at the tender age of twenty-five you took on not one, but twin two-year-olds and they’ve thrived in the past three years.”

  “They’re my niece and nephew. Anyone would have done the same.”

  “Maybe.” Daddy tested the stability and joints of the shelf. “But I want you to live a full life. To have a love like I had with your mother. God has someone for you, who will love you and the twins and be content without biological children. You just need to open your heart to the possibility.”

  “I’m fine the way things are. I have the twins and you. That’s all I need.” But a pang settled in her heart the way it always did when she thought of never having cousins for the twins.

  As a Christian, it wasn’t that she was afraid to die, but she refused to take the chance of leaving motherless children behind. Enough of that had happened in her family already.

  “But I won’t be around forever and the kids will grow up and be gone some day.”

  “Now you’re depressing me.” She ripped the final piece of upholstery off the back of the chair.

  “I just don’t want you to miss out on your own happily-ever-after.” He touched her arm. “Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t take anything for you and the years we had with your sister. But I loved your mother and if we’d known back then about her heart condition, I’d have married her anyway and been willing to adopt.”

  But Daddy was one of a kind. A man who’d raised two
daughters alone, despite a manipulative sister-in-law. He could have handed them over to Aunt Eleanor and waltzed off into the sunset. A lot of men would have.

  It was easier just to avoid men, not risk her heart, emotionally or physically.

  “Just think about it.”

  She nodded to appease him. But the most pressing thing on her mind was Ron having a change of heart about the twins. Her stomach clenched.

  “That’s my girl.” He checked his watch. “Time to open.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I clean up.” She slipped her smock off. Thankfully, her capris and blouse were none the worse for wear. In the bathroom, she dabbed a wet washcloth over her face, attempting not to wash off her makeup, then soaped the grime from her arms and hands.

  Leaving the back door of the workshop open for ventilation, she entered the front part of the barn that housed the store. Long aisles were packed with everything from a flat-bottom boat repurposed into a bookshelf to an old upright piano turned into a desk to various antiques and vintage furnishings.

  Daddy perched on the stool behind the counter.

  Every clock in the place chimed ten times as she hurried to unlock the front door and turn the Open sign around.

  Waverly Heathcott stood outside, waiting. One of their best and possibly richest customers, owner of The Texas Rose. Definitely the most put together.

  While Stacia sported mottled skin with blotchy cheeks. A testament that Texas hadn’t caught on that it was almost mid-September and she was a natural redhead and didn’t perspire much. Her hair spilled from a messy bun with damp tendrils around her face. She blew a long layer out of her eyes. Oh well, she looked like she worked hard. Not everyone could be runway ready all the time like Waverly.

  “Come in.” Stacia opened the door for her. “Sorry, we were in the workshop or I’d have let you in already.”

  “No worries. I’m early. I was wondering how many—” Waverly stopped in front of a coffee bar constructed from an old door, a small table, spindles and corbels. “Oh, Stasha, I’m in love with this.” She tucked a strand of perfect blond hair behind her ear. “How many of them do you have?”

  “Just the one at the moment.” No matter how many times Stacia reminded her it was pronounced Stay-shuh, Waverly continued to say her name as if it rhymed with Tasha.

  “They fly out the door as soon as I build them.” Daddy scratched his graying beard.

  “I’m remodeling The Texas Rose.” Waverly continued on to the counter.

  “Which one?” Stacia asked. Waverly had been a frequent shopper over the years as she’d opened each of her twenty shabby chic–style bed-and-breakfasts scattered across Texas.

  “All of them. Could I get one of those for each room?”

  Stacia squelched a gasp. “That’s one hundred rooms. Right?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m afraid we can’t build them exactly the same.”

  “Of course not. If I wanted carbon copies, I wouldn’t be here.” Waverly glanced around the store. “That’s what I love about this place, everything is unique.”

  “Still shabby chic, right?”

  “Definitely.”

  Stacia grabbed her tablet from under the counter and pulled up an order form. “Ninety-nine shabby chic coffee bars.”

  “In white with pink, blush, seafoam, lavender and yellow trim. I brought fabric swatches.” Waverly handed them to her.

  “Great. Let’s go to my workshop to pick paint tabs and I need you to browse the warehouse with me, so I can get a feel for the types of materials you like.”

  “My favorite part.” Waverly followed, glamorous in her white pants suit and spiked heels.

  The bell rang and a man stepped inside. A handsome man. Close to Stacia’s age.

  “May I help you?” Daddy hurried over.

  Stacia ushered Waverly into the workshop. Half-finished repurposed projects dotted the space in the back of the barn, everything from a bistro table and chairs to a vintage sofa and a pile of claw-foot tubs needing resurfacing. The stuffy stillness made her regret leaving the door open. She shut it and turned the air conditioner on. The cool blast swept chill bumps over her.

  “Sorry about the temperature. Even with the ventilation system, it gets so dusty in here, so I was trying to air it out.”

  “It’s fine.”

  Not just any customer was allowed in the workshop. But it wasn’t the first time Waverly Heathcott had strolled through it and the warehouse full of rusty metal gates, finials, vintage doors, windows and shutters. Though it had never happened, Stacia always worried she’d get a dry cleaning bill.

  “Oh, I almost forgot what I came for. I also need one hundred claw-foot tubs. Is that all you have?” She pointed at the pile.

  “There are five in the store already finished, plus these for a total of twenty-three.”

  “Can you get more?”

  “I’m certain we can. I’ll put a call out to vendors I know, but it may take time.”

  “Is a month enough time?”

  Stacia swallowed hard. “A month?”

  “That’s my timeline for the remodel. I’ll be shut down for six weeks and I want everything in place before we reopen.”

  “You want ninety-nine coffee bars and ninety-five restored claw-foot bathtubs in a month?” Stacia tried to calculate a schedule in her head.

  “I know it’s a lot, but if anyone can pull it off, 3 Gals’ Treasures can.” Waverly flashed her best I’m-rich-just-make-it-happen smile.

  “You came to the right place.”

  Over the next thirty minutes, they picked paint and Waverly chose pieces and parts she liked for the coffee bars as Stacia snapped pictures and added details to the order. They agreed on a price and Waverly paid half down.

  How to tell Daddy? Not only were they short-staffed, but she’d just agreed to an impossible order.

  She led Waverly back to the store.

  “Thank you, you’re a treasure.” Waverly gave her a quick hug. “I can’t wait to see what you create.”

  “We’ll ship the bathtubs we have, and more as we complete them, so you’ll have time for installation. As we complete the coffee bars, I’ll send pictures for your approval.”

  “I’ll love whatever you come up with. I always do.” With a wave, Waverly strolled to the exit.

  As Stacia headed to the register, she saw the man. Still there. And completely focused on her twin niece and nephew who were now sitting behind the counter. Something felt familiar about his dark hair and features, paired with emerald eyes. A chill went down the back of her neck.

  “There she is. She’ll be right with you,” Daddy said.

  “Aunt Stacia!” the twins shouted in unison and rushed her.

  “When did y’all get here?” She knelt to hug them.

  “Aunt Larae dropped us off. She didn’t want us to get sick cuz Jayda started sneezing this morning,” Madison reported. “She said it’s probably allergies, but just in case, she brought us home.”

  “Do y’all feel okay?” She pressed a palm to each of their foreheads. Both cool.

  “Yep,” their voices blended.

  Saturdays were a real challenge since her clerk had married her ranch hand and moved to Waco. Now that they were shorthanded, the twins often spent Friday night and the following day at her friend’s ranch. But sometimes that didn’t work out. Like today, making Stacia wish she and Daddy could leave the store in someone else’s hands and spend the day with them.

  But weekends were always busy. The usual rush before and after lunch required two clerks in the showroom while Daddy helped customers load purchases.

  “If you’ll be real good—that means no running, giggling or squealing—I’ll get Grandpa to take y’all to get ice cream.”

  “Ice cream!” Mason jumped up and down. “Before lunch?�
�

  “Just this once, we’ll have a late lunch.” She winked. “But that includes no jumping.”

  Mason quickly stilled.

  “We’ll be extra good,” Madison promised. “Won’t we, Mason?”

  Mason nodded. Always the weak link. It wasn’t that he was bad. Just mischievous, full of energy and easily bored. Which usually got him in trouble. A lot like his mom had been.

  She ushered the children ahead of her and they dutifully returned to their seats behind the counter.

  Daddy hurried toward her, lowering his voice to a whisper. “He wants to talk to you. Hasn’t browsed or anything, just patiently waited for you. Maybe he’s here about a job. An answer to our prayers.”

  “I hope so. Waverly wants the coffee bar and all five of the claw-foot tubs we have finished. Plus she ordered ninety-nine more bars and ninety-five more tubs.”

  “That’s awesome.”

  “She wants all of it in a month.”

  “Tell me you didn’t agree to those terms.”

  Stacia winced. “I’ve got a nice check in my pocket.”

  “Aye yai yai. You better hope he’s here for a job.”

  The man waited at the counter, his gaze still riveted on the twins. Nothing new there. Both strawberry blond, freckled, large blue-green eyes, obviously twins—carbon copies of one another except for gender. Double the cuteness factor.

  “I’m Stacia Keyes.” She offered her hand.

  He tore his attention away from the children. “Ross Lyles. Nice to meet you.”

  The last name sent a jolt through her heart. No. Ron didn’t have any family.

  Intense green eyes scrutinized her as his hand engulfed hers in a firm grip.

  “Are you interested in the ranch hand position? Or the furniture handyman position?”

  “Huh?” His gaze darted back to the kids.

  “Do you have experience in either?”

  “Actually both.” He cleared his throat.

  Daddy chuckled. “You’re hired.”

  “Daddy.” This guy was way too focused on her niece and nephew. “We usually get references on new hires.”