Counting on the Cowboy Read online

  “I knew it.” Landry jabbed a finger at her.

  “What?”

  “You don’t think of Dallas as home anymore.”

  Hmm. She used to. What had happened to her?

  The door swung open. Chase eyed them, holding a tray loaded with glasses of lemonade, each with a bendy straw. “Looks like a passel of trouble to me.” He handed the glasses to them. “How did you ever get these two raised, Tina?”

  Mama laughed. “With lots of love and giggling.”

  “We used to lay in Daddy’s hammock together when were kids. Even tried to sleep there a few times. But Devree always chickened out and ended up inside.”

  “Landry was always our nature girl.” Mama sipped her lemonade.

  “Just don’t flip my precious cargo when you leave.” Chase set down the tray, settled in a chair.

  “You look tired, Dev.” Landry leaned up to sip the lemonade then sat it down on a side table.

  “Flipping a canoe is hard work.” She tasted the lemonade. Just the right amount of sweet and tart. She almost drained the glass before placing it next to her sister’s.

  Daddy guffawed. “We heard all about it.”

  “Janice thought she saw some sparks between you and Brock.” Landry elbowed her.

  “Who’s this Brock?” Daddy barked.

  Devree’s face steamed. There’d been definite sparks—for her, anyway.

  “The new handyman,” Chase volunteered. “An old friend of mine.”

  “He was just trying to keep me calm and get me back in the canoe. I don’t know what you and Chase were thinking, setting me up in a floating ski.”

  “You do look tired.” Mama leaned over them, giving Devree a good inspection. “Did you sleep okay?”

  “I bet you haven’t slept since you got here.” Daddy winked at her. “Too quiet for you.”

  “The first few nights were rough. But since then, I’ve slept like a log the entire time I’ve been here. Except for the rooster waking me up a few mornings. But he’s gone now.”

  “I knew it. You’re a country girl at heart.” Mama grinned.

  “It’s so peaceful here.” Landry yawned. “I love the slowed-down lifestyle. Where you get to know your neighbors and people care. A lot like Aubrey. Are you sure country life hasn’t grown on you again, Devree?”

  These days, she wasn’t sure about much.

  “Ooh.” Landry grabbed Devree’s hand, pressed it to the mound of her stomach.

  Devree felt a jab from inside and teared up. “Does that hurt?”

  “Not really. It’s just kind of startling sometimes.”

  “Let me feel.” Mama set her hand next to Devree’s.

  “I can’t wait until he or she gets out here.” Landry stretched her back.

  “You and me both.” Breathing and healthy this time. “Trust me.” The movement stopped and Devree checked her watch. “I’d love to hang out with you and Sprint all morning, but I better get to church.” She sat up, got her toe hung in the netting. Daddy held the hammock steady, but by the time she was safely on her feet, they were both giggling again.

  “We’re going with you.” Mama grabbed her purse from the porch rail.

  Devree’s heart squeezed. She hadn’t been to church with her parents since she’d lived at home.

  “Come back after church.”

  “We will.” She blew her sister a kiss and headed for her car with a troubled mind.

  Did she really want to go back to Dallas? It was so peaceful here. And she loved being with her sister. It was so much fun with Mama and Daddy here to see them both instead of one at a time. When her niece or nephew was born, could she really just walk away?

  * * *

  The service ended and Brock headed for the door. He should have sat Mother’s Day out. It was torture sitting through the sermon with his stepdad singing the praises of his mom while she withheld a big whopping secret from him.

  It brought all his anger toward her freshly to the surface. Undermining the steps toward reconciliation they’d made on his dad’s birthday.

  At least Ron hadn’t exposed him as her son.

  “Brock? Is that right?” An older man stopped him, offered his calloused hand. “Jed Whitlow. We met at Rustick’s a few weeks back. The missus and I have our own church, but our son works as a hand for the Donovans, so we came here today. Can you help us set up some more tables in the fellowship hall? We’ve got a bigger crowd than Chase expected.”

  “Sure. You ended up with Rusty the rooster, didn’t you?”

  “We did.” Jed ambled through the side door toward the fellowship hall as he spoke. “He’s beautiful and quite happy in his new home.”

  “Just watch him if he gets out. He’s got an attitude.”

  “So I hear. How’s the construction going here at the Donovans’?”

  “Coming along. We have three out of a dozen cabins complete.”

  They made it to the fellowship hall. Women, including his mother, scurried about the kitchen while the men moved the seating around and grabbed more. He helped carry three tables, set them up with chairs.

  “I think that’s it.” Jed swiped his hands back and forth against each other. “You’re gonna stay and eat, aren’t you? Chase’s dad catered it, so the mothers wouldn’t have to work so hard. I can vouch for the cook and it sure smells good.”

  “Thanks, but my recliner’s calling me.”

  “Well, if I’d known you weren’t staying, I wouldn’t have made you work.”

  “I didn’t mind. Nice seeing you again, Jed.”

  “Same here.”

  He headed for the foyer, then toward the exit. The rushed click of heels sounded behind him.

  “Brock, I wish you’d stay,” Mom begged.

  “I can’t.” He kept his back to her.

  “But I haven’t had a Mother’s Day lunch with you since you were ten.”

  He turned on her then. “Wonder why that is?”

  “I thought we were okay.”

  “I can’t have a family meal with you and Ron the way you want. Not without him knowing the truth. He might ask me something mundane like how Dad’s relatives are. And I have no clue.” Because he’d never laid eyes on them in his entire life. At least, that he remembered, anyway.

  “Oh, Brock, I’m so sorry.”

  “You being sorry doesn’t fix anything. You need to tell your new little family unit the truth.”

  “What truth is that?” Ron stepped through the doorway from the sanctuary, his gaze bouncing back and forth between them. Scarlet stood behind him.

  Mom sucked in a big breath, nodded. “You’re right. It’s time. Let’s go to your office, Ron. You too, Scarlet. There’s something I need to tell you both. Something I should have told y’all years ago.”

  “You coming?” Ron asked. “Sounds like you’re part of all of this?”

  “No. I’ll let y’all hash it out.” He exited, leaving her to clean up her own mess.

  At his truck, he hesitated. She was finally doing the right thing. Even though she was being forced into coming clean since Ron overheard their argument, she was finally doing it.

  Maybe he should stick around, help her with the fallout. He strode back inside, settled on the back pew and did something he hadn’t done since he was ten—said a prayer for his mom.

  * * *

  Even though Devree had a good reason for leaving earlier—taking her sister and Chase a plate, visiting with her parents—she felt bad for not helping with the cleanup in the fellowship hall. As she stepped inside the foyer, Ron rushed from his office and out the exit with Scarlet on his heels. Neither said a word. Odd. Brock came barreling from the sanctuary, stopped when he saw her.

  “Is Ron okay?”

  “No. I’ll see to him. My mom’s in the office. Can you stay
with her until I get back?”

  “Of course.” She hurried to the office at the side of the foyer.

  Inside, Becca sat hunched, her face in her hands.

  “Becca, Brock asked me to stay with you. He went after Ron.”

  “Oh, Devree. I’ve made such a mess of things.”

  “You don’t have to tell me anything. I’m just here for support.”

  “But I need to tell it. I should have fessed up when I came back here fifteen years ago.” The story tumbled out of Becca, interrupted only by hiccupped sobs. The grief over Brock’s dad, the move to Dallas, losing her apartment, her alcoholic father, the drug use, forgetting where she’d left Brock and child services.

  “I’m so sorry, Becca.” She’d known some of it, but not the gory details like she did now.

  “No one knew. Except Granny Donovan. She hired me when I came back here. Said my story was between me and God. But people knew me here and asked about Brock. So I made up a story about his father’s family taking him from me, turning him against me.”

  Devree patted her shoulder.

  “I don’t think Granny’s advice applied to keeping it from my husband. When Ron and I first started seeing each other, I was afraid my past would scare him off. Once we started getting serious, I didn’t want to lose him.”

  “I’m sure he’s shocked, but he loves you.”

  “He said it’s not the drugs or my losing Brock that upset him. It’s that I didn’t trust him enough to tell him. And he’s a big stickler on truth. I don’t know if he can ever forgive me. Poor Scarlet was shell-shocked.”

  “I’m sure Brock and Scarlet will calm Ron down.”

  “Unless none of them can forgive me.”

  “They’re all Christians. Forgiveness is part of the package.” Devree took Becca’s hand. “Let’s pray about it.”

  Becca sniffled, nodded.

  “Dear Lord, ease this situation. Give Ron, Becca, Scarlet and Brock peace and comfort only You can provide. Help them forgive each other. To love each other. To leave the past behind and embrace the future together. In Jesus’s precious name, amen.”

  “Thank you, Devree.” Becca squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry you got tangled up in my drama.”

  “That’s what friends are for.”

  But only God could fix this.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Brock caught up with Ron and Scarlet at his truck, the door already open.

  “Great, she sent you to plead her case?” Ron stood between his pickup and the open driver’s door, leaned his elbows through the window, fists clenched.

  “No. I came on my own. I’m the one who challenged her to tell you the truth, so I should be around to support her.”

  “Why didn’t she tell me?” Barely controlled anger writhed in Ron’s eyes.

  “Dad, listen to him.” Scarlet touched Ron’s arm. “Becca’s been so good to us. Let’s just leave her past in the past and move forward. She must be distraught. I’ll go see about her.” She started toward the church.

  “I asked Devree to stay with her.”

  “Then maybe I’ll just go inside and pray.”

  “It’s gonna take a lot of praying,” Ron closed his eyes. “She would have kept her secret if I hadn’t overheard your conversation.”

  “She would have told you eventually. It was eating at her.” Brock kicked at the gravel with the toe of his boot. “You gotta know she’s a different person now. As upset as she is at this moment, I seriously doubt she’d go back to drugs.”

  “It’s not the drug abuse or the parental neglect that gets me. She didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth.”

  “She probably thought you’d figure she was a bad influence if you knew and wouldn’t let her near your teenage daughter.” Why was it so easy to defend her?

  “I wouldn’t have broken things off. I loved her.”

  “And you still do.”

  “Of course, I do. I’m just...hurt.”

  “Then don’t run out on her. She needs you to love her. To accept her truth. To forgive her for not telling you sooner.” Was he forgiving her too?

  “How’d you wind up so smart?”

  “I had a Christian foster family.” For a while. No need to tell Ron about the difficult years his mother’s drug abuse had caused him.

  “I’m glad. I’m glad you ended up back here.” Ron shut his truck door, strode toward the church.

  Brock matched his stride. “Me too.” And he actually meant it. Despite the turmoil with Devree.

  “My first wife passed away when Scarlet was nine. She always wanted a brother and I always wanted a son. I mean, I could never take the place of your dad, but I’m hoping you’ll stick around, build a relationship with your mama. And with me and Scarlet.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Wanna take her out to dinner after evening service?”

  “Sure.” As he’d counseled Ron to forgive his mom, the words had resonated in his heart. It was time he forgave her too. They couldn’t retrieve the past, get back what they’d lost, but they could make up for lost time now.

  He opened the glass entry door and Ron went inside, straight to his office.

  Mom and Devree sat in front of his desk. Both turned to face them. Ron stepped in, pulled Mom to her feet, wrapped her up in his arms.

  “We’ll leave you alone.” Brock gestured Devree out. “But I’ll see you later, Mom. How about we go to the Old Spanish Trail for a Mother’s Day supper after evening service?”

  “I’d like that. A lot.” Tears streamed down Mom’s face, but they were obviously happy tears now.

  Devree exited and Brock followed.

  “Sorry you got mixed up in that.”

  “It’s okay. I’m glad it all worked out. I like happy endings.”

  “You had guests with you this morning. I didn’t mean to keep you away from them.”

  “My parents.”

  “Mother’s Day. I should have figured that out. Scarlet’s in the sanctuary. She got caught up in the vortex too. I should check on her.” He wouldn’t look at her. Couldn’t.

  “I returned to help clean the fellowship hall.” She stopped. “I better get back there or they’ll have it done.”

  “Go, spend time with your folks. There’s plenty of cleanup help. How long has it been since you were with your whole family?” He risked a glance her way.

  “A while.” Her eyes turned sad. “I think I will go.”

  He found Scarlet on the front pew. Head bowed. Her head whipped up, as she heard his approach.

  “Are they okay?”

  “They’re hugging it out in the office as we speak.”

  She blew out a big sigh. “Good.”

  He strolled up the aisle, sat down beside her. “How about you? You okay?”

  “It’s a lot to take in. But I think I know why she didn’t tell us in the beginning.”

  “Why’s that?” He relaxed his shoulders, stretched his legs out, crossed his ankles in an effort to release some of his pent up tension.

  “We needed her so bad. And we put her on a pedestal from the start. It must have been a lot of pressure for her. To measure up to how we saw her.” She reached for his hand.

  He clasped hers. “I shouldn’t have forced her. It was selfish. I refused to lie about my childhood, that’s why I wouldn’t ever agree to that dinner you kept insisting on. I figured the subject would have come up.”

  “Since they’re okay, I think it’s good that we know everything she went through. Makes me love her even more.”

  “You’re a good woman.” He squeezed her hand. “We’re taking Mom to OST for Mother’s Day tonight. Hope y’all can come.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it.” She laid her head against his shoulder for a few seconds. “I’ve been trying to arrange a
family dinner since I first laid eyes on you. Are you bringing Devree?”

  “No.” Absolutely not.

  “You should. Y’all make a cute couple.”

  “But we’re not. Her life is in Dallas and it turns out, mine’s here.”

  “I thought my life was in San Antonio. Until I met Drew. I can’t wait for you to get to know him tonight. He’s heard so much about my fantasy brother.” She giggled as her cheeks turned pink.

  “Careful now. I’d topple right off some pedestal.” He shot her a wink. “Didn’t you grow up here?”

  “I couldn’t wait to get away—to live in the city.” Her gaze grew distant. “As soon as I graduated high school, I went to San Antonio to get my real estate license. I was happy there. Or I thought I was. Until I came to visit Dad and Becca and met the new ranch hand next door.”

  “And you’re happy in Bandera now?”

  “Blissfully. The right man changes everything. Maybe you could be Devree’s right man.”

  “I don’t think so.” But, oh, how he wished he could.

  “Mama.” Turning around, they saw Ruby. “You’re missing Mother’s Day.”

  “You’re right, sweetheart. I am.” She stood, caught the little girl’s hand. “You coming?”

  “Hurry, Uncle Brock. They have yummy pie.”

  “Right behind you. I’ve never said no to pie.” He followed them to the fellowship hall.

  Now that things were fully reconciled with Mom, he’d definitely stay here. It could even be his home base if he got back into building luxury cabins again.

  During his partnership, Tuckerman had bullied landowners into selling too low and Brock’s reputation had gotten tarnished by association. But apparently enough time had passed, and their old architect was willing to take a chance on him. Could he start over?

  Maybe he could—but not with Devree. With jobs stacking up for her in Dallas, she’d never stay here. Never be content in Bandera. There would be no happy ending for them.

  * * *

  Monday morning, back to work. On his hands and knees, Brock locked the tongue and groove hardwood flooring together in the completed cottage. Whoever invented kneepads rocked. His hands were busy, his mind was occupied, so why did Devree keep distracting him as she hung curtains and wall decor?