Sweet Beginnings
Book One of the Honeysuckle Texas Series
Chapter One
Preston Sweet slammed the door of his SUV and slipped his keys into his pocket. Unlike his apartment in town, the front door of the Sweet ranch was never locked. From the near empty drive, it looked like only his brother Carson had beat him home. Every Sunday the driveway would be filled with cars. Tonight would be the first time the house would be bursting with Sweets on a weeknight for no other reason than his mom had called and asked.
The sound of spitting gravel cut off his thoughts. Even with the dust cloud blowing in the thick summer air preventing a clear view of the approaching car, he knew the driver had to be Rachel. His sister was the only person in the family who considered every open road a NASCAR track.
The car came to a screeching halt within a few feet of him, though it felt like inches. She probably should have moved to Hollywood and been a stunt car driver. “Cutting it pretty close don’t you think?”
Rachel yanked her overnight bag from the back seat and shook her head at her brother. “Nah. I had plenty of room.”
Even though he had just seen her a couple of weeks ago, he scooped her into a warm hug as though it had been forever ago.
“Any idea what this is all about?” she mumbled into his shoulder. The same underlying tinge of tension he’d felt since his mom’s cryptic call, could be felt in Rachel’s embrace.
He shook his head, and eased back. “I can’t decide if Mom announcing she’s getting married would be best case scenario or worst case scenario.”
Like a shot, Rachel sprang back. “Mom’s getting married? I thought you didn’t know what this is all about.”
“No. That’s not what I meant.” He shook his head more forcefully. “I was simply wondering what could be so important that she would call all of us and tell us she needed us home. Now. Then it hit me a wedding would be something seriously important. Especially if it were our mother getting married again. Once my mind wandered that far, then I couldn’t decide if that would be a relief or the beginning of some new kind of hell.”
“She’s not even dating.” Rachel smacked him lightly on the arm and growled her frustration with her big brother. “Why would you even go there?”
“Because the other option was she’s dying and I don’t want to go there--ever.”
On a heavy sigh, Rachel nodded. “That would certainly make getting hitched more appealing.”
He reached for her bag. “Did you ever think about it?”
“Mom getting married again?”
Moving forward, he bobbed his head.
“Nope.” She fell into step beside him. “I just can’t picture anyone with Mom except Dad.”
“Know what you mean, but still, it has to be pretty lonely some days in this big old house.”
“Yeah.” She stopped at the porch steps and looked up at the expanse of the old two story home. “But for now, I don’t think this is it.”
“I hope so. I’m not ready to go there yet. Some day, but not yet.” The way his dad had drummed into all their heads since they were old enough to walk, he held the door open for his sister. “And the more I think about this call, the more I’m sure whatever it is, I’m not going to like it either.”
“Any word from Garret?” Rachel strolled past him.
“No, and I didn’t expect to hear back from him. He warned us there’s no cell service where they’re camping in Idaho.”
“I know.” His sister shrugged. “I just thought, sometimes with technology you never know.”
The inside of the house was neat, cozy, welcoming, and quiet.
Rachel paused mid stride. “I’m surprised Mom isn’t here waiting for us.”
The same thought had crossed Preston’s mind. For as long as he could remember, since the day he’d left home for college, the minute his mom heard the rumble of his engine, she was out the door and on the porch waving frantically at him. As a matter of fact, now that he thought about it, everything inside and out seemed unusually quiet.
“Maybe she’s helping the hands with something. This is around vaccine time before the big sales.”
“Maybe.” Without being given direction, he led his sister down the hall to the room she’d shared with her twin Jillian, and dropped the bag on the bed. “I’m going to see if I can find Carson and Mom.”
“I saw a light on in the study.” Rachel unzipped her bag. “I’m going to take a minute and unpack.”
“Don’t you usually pack a lot less?”
She shrugged. “Since I’m mostly working from home, I figured no harm in planning to stay a few extra days.”
The thought to pack a bag and turn supper into a long weekend had occurred to him as well, but then he decided that might fall in the camp of dramatically over reacting. Maybe he shouldn’t have reconsidered. “That’ll make Mom happy.”
His sister flashed a huge toothy grin. “I know.”
“Women,” he muttered, laughing to himself. That kid and his other sister had everyone in the family wrapped around their fingers from the day they were born, and he doubted that would ever change.
Retreating down the hall, he turned into his father’s domain. Charles Sweet’s study hadn’t changed much since the days when Preston and his siblings had trotted around on wooden pony sticks with makeshift lassos and pretended to rope everything from the toy horses to the desktop lamp—and each other. In an effort to keep them all in one piece, their father had dutifully uttered the occasional warning of ‘be careful’ or ‘not so rough’—most likely for their mother’s benefit. More so though, their dad had simply done his best to get through the paperwork part of the ranch business while his sons created havoc around him.
Funny, in all the time since they’d buried their father, the familiar scent of their father’s aftershave seemed to still linger in the air. Or perhaps it was nothing more than memories and wishful thinking.
“Did Mom tell anyone why we’re all here?” Carson uncapped the crystal decanter behind the desk then raised an empty glass to his brother.
“No thanks.” He waved off the silent invitation. “Rachel is unpacking. Neither of us has any idea what this is all about.”
Carson sank heavily in one of the oversized leather chairs, swirled the ice in the two fingers of bourbon, and took a long swallow.
“Looks like you’ve had a hard day.” Preston took a seat across from him, leaving the sofa and a smaller chair for his mom and siblings.
“Hard week.” Carson eyed the glass glimmering from the reflection of the nearby lamp. “Heck, more like weeks.”
Preston leaned forward and threaded his hands in front of him. “What’s wrong?”
“Just another day in the flip world. Turns out the most recent project we sank all our available cash into is now knee deep in litigation.”
“That’s something new.”
“For me it is. Seems all the houses in that subdivision are in a class action suit against the original developers and we can’t do squat until it’s settled. My ninety day rehab schedule just went down the drain.”
"So now what?”
“Not sure. I’m okay for a while, but the reno budget is growing tighter every day until I come up with a plan B.”
“Sorry, man.” Preston changed his mind about that drink after all.
The loose board by the threshold squeaked announcing his sister’s arrival. “A little early to be drinking isn’t it?”
“What’s that saying, it’s five o’clock somewhere?” Carson leaned forward and set his drink on the table then looked at his watch. “It’s been five on the east coast for over half an hour.”
“In that case,” Rachel smiled up at Preston still at the bar, “make mine on the rocks.”
“Aren’t you too young to drink?” Carson teased.
“I should be twenty one again.”
“Twenty one? Aren’t you sixteen?”
“Here we go again.” Rachel accepted her glass and rolled her eyes at her brothers.
Didn’t matter how old she grew, in their eyes she and Jillian would always be the kid sisters who needed their big bad brothers to take care of them.
“Never mind that.” Preston figured the least he could do was reel in his brother’s sense of humor, especially since they had more pressing matters at hand. Setting his drink aside he slid his phone from his pocket and hit his mom’s number.
“Mom?” Rachel asked.
Preston nodded, and Carson scooted to the edge of his seat, carefully watching the phone, then sliding back when the call went to voice mail.
“Anyone else starting to feel guilty for making Mom worry when we missed curfew and forgot our phones?”
“Not me,” Preston smiled. “I was perfect.”
Rachel rolled her eyes at him and then her face stiffened. “Seriously maybe we should make some phone calls. Friends, Ray, make sure she’s all right.”
“She’s a grown woman who has worked this ranch for longer than any of us have been alive, and running it just fine without Dad. I’m sure she’ll be here any minute and laugh off our concerns.” Carson’s words painted a picture of a calm unconcerned son, but the look in his gaze and leaving a half full drink unfinished spoke volumes to just how concerned he was about their mother’s tardiness. What in heaven’s name could she be up to?
******
“Loud noise reactivity. Perceived confrontation. German Shepherd. What time?” Sarah Conroy tapped the pad she’d used to scribble data on the most recent dog needing to be homed. With the sudden onslaught of military working dogs coming through the system her usual sources for fosters were growing slim. There had to be an answer and she’d better find it before Tuesday morning at zero nine hundred hours. A few more details and requisite polite exchange of weather, family, and allergy season, and she disconnected the call and brought her laptop screen to life.
“I have to run.” Her father grabbed a protein bar off the counter and shoved it in his jacket pocket, then casually pilfered one, then two, of the chocolate chip cookies she’d made earlier in the day. “Mary Mahoney has finally gone into labor for real.”
“Finally?” She’d been daughter to a country doctor long enough, and spent enough summers playing receptionist and aid to know almost as much about medicine as her father. Though every med school in the world would probably disagree with her. Still, even she knew that every pregnant woman eventually finally had a baby.
“She’s ten days overdue and every time Braxton hicks start she’d be in my office convinced this was the time.”
“How do you know this isn’t another false alarm?” As sure as she knew her name was Sarah Sue Conroy, she knew there would be a definitive answer.
“Heard it in her voice.”
And that was why her dad was so very good at what he did. She still remembered the time that Mrs. Harper had called to tell the doc that she was having strong twinges and was going to climb into the tub to relax before the main event. When her husband called back an hour later in a panic, her father told him to hold the phone close to his wife’s face so Sarah’s father could listen. A few long moments later and the well-loved old doctor informed Mr. Harper not to wait for him, but rather to take his wife to the hospital and don’t worry about the speed limits, the sheriff would understand. An hour later Faith Harper was born.
Her father paused long enough to kiss her on the temple. “It’s nice to have you back. Not much about the chaos in today’s world I’m happy about, but having you working from the house is a welcome change. Love you.”
“Love you too. And it’s nice to be back.” In the half a dozen years since she’d moved to Austin, she hadn’t realized just how much she missed living in a sleepy small town. Apparently she missed it all a lot. A whole lot of lot. Especially chatting over dinner about anything from Mildred McEntire’s latest bedazzled outfit, to who’d won that day’s corn hole match at the park, to the latest fight at the town council over their beloved town of Honeysuckle, Texas. Nary a week went by when there wasn’t a disagreement of some kind between the faction who wanted to promote the honeysuckle arts and crafts that filled the Main Street shops with everything from candles to potpourri, and the faction who felt being corn hole capital of Texas was the bigger advantage for promotion dollars.
"Odds are I’ll be home late.” Her dad stood at the open front door. “First babies usually take their sweet time. If I am, you go ahead and take your mother’s casserole out of the oven and invite yourself over to the Sweets. Alice would probably enjoy the company. Even though it’s been over a year, she’s still a bit out of sorts over losing Charlie, not that she realizes it.” He pressed his lips into a thin line and shook his head with a sigh. “Anyhow, company would do her good.”
“Will do!”
The front door closed in the distance and Sarah pushed to her feet. A casserole dinner with Ms Alice would be way more fun than eating alone, waiting for her parents to come home. When the women in town got together for whatever planning committee, it always went long, always included some of Abigail Fine’s honeysuckle wine, and Sarah’s mom always was the last to leave. Hence the stack of emergency casseroles stashed in the extra freezer. Besides, she hadn’t seen any of the Sweets since Charlie’s funeral. It was a miserable reason to come home and she’d barely had any chance to say more than “I’m sorry for your loss” to the kids she’d lived next door to for most of her life.
According to the oven clock, dinner would be ready in thirty minutes. Enough time for her to get a little work done. Alice had done such a great job with her son’s dog, maybe she would have a few suggestions for Sarah. She’d opened a new browser and watched the swirly thing spin when another thought smacked her upside the head. Why not ask Ms. Alice? After all, if she was left alone to rattle around in the big house, a new dog could be just the ticket. That is if Brady and the foster could share Alice and the house. It was the perfect solution really. Therapeutic companionship for everyone. Yes. The more she thought about it the more she was sure this would be the answers she needed. Now all she had to do was convince Alice Sweet.
Preston Sweet slammed the door of his SUV and slipped his keys into his pocket. Unlike his apartment in town, the front door of the Sweet ranch was never locked. From the near empty drive, it looked like only his brother Carson had beat him home. Every Sunday the driveway would be filled with cars. Tonight would be the first time the house would be bursting with Sweets on a weeknight for no other reason than his mom had called and asked.
The sound of spitting gravel cut off his thoughts. Even with the dust cloud blowing in the thick summer air preventing a clear view of the approaching car, he knew the driver had to be Rachel. His sister was the only person in the family who considered every open road a NASCAR track.
The car came to a screeching halt within a few feet of him, though it felt like inches. She probably should have moved to Hollywood and been a stunt car driver. “Cutting it pretty close don’t you think?”
Rachel yanked her overnight bag from the back seat and shook her head at her brother. “Nah. I had plenty of room.”
Even though he had just seen her a couple of weeks ago, he scooped her into a warm hug as though it had been forever ago.
“Any idea what this is all about?” she mumbled into his shoulder. The same underlying tinge of tension he’d felt since his mom’s cryptic call, could be felt in Rachel’s embrace.
He shook his head, and eased back. “I can’t decide if Mom announcing she’s getting married would be best case scenario or worst case scenario.”
Like a shot, Rachel sprang back. “Mom’s getting married? I thought you didn’t know what this is all about.”
“No. That’s not what I meant.” He shook his head more forcefully. “I was simply wondering what could be so important that she would call all of us and tell us she needed us home. Now. Then it hit me a wedding would be something seriously important. Especially if it were our mother getting married again. Once my mind wandered that far, then I couldn’t decide if that would be a relief or the beginning of some new kind of hell.”
“She’s not even dating.” Rachel smacked him lightly on the arm and growled her frustration with her big brother. “Why would you even go there?”
“Because the other option was she’s dying and I don’t want to go there--ever.”
On a heavy sigh, Rachel nodded. “That would certainly make getting hitched more appealing.”
He reached for her bag. “Did you ever think about it?”
“Mom getting married again?”
Moving forward, he bobbed his head.
“Nope.” She fell into step beside him. “I just can’t picture anyone with Mom except Dad.”
“Know what you mean, but still, it has to be pretty lonely some days in this big old house.”
“Yeah.” She stopped at the porch steps and looked up at the expanse of the old two story home. “But for now, I don’t think this is it.”
“I hope so. I’m not ready to go there yet. Some day, but not yet.” The way his dad had drummed into all their heads since they were old enough to walk, he held the door open for his sister. “And the more I think about this call, the more I’m sure whatever it is, I’m not going to like it either.”
“Any word from Garret?” Rachel strolled past him.
“No, and I didn’t expect to hear back from him. He warned us there’s no cell service where they’re camping in Idaho.”
“I know.” His sister shrugged. “I just thought, sometimes with technology you never know.”
The inside of the house was neat, cozy, welcoming, and quiet.
Rachel paused mid stride. “I’m surprised Mom isn’t here waiting for us.”
The same thought had crossed Preston’s mind. For as long as he could remember, since the day he’d left home for college, the minute his mom heard the rumble of his engine, she was out the door and on the porch waving frantically at him. As a matter of fact, now that he thought about it, everything inside and out seemed unusually quiet.
“Maybe she’s helping the hands with something. This is around vaccine time before the big sales.”
“Maybe.” Without being given direction, he led his sister down the hall to the room she’d shared with her twin Jillian, and dropped the bag on the bed. “I’m going to see if I can find Carson and Mom.”
“I saw a light on in the study.” Rachel unzipped her bag. “I’m going to take a minute and unpack.”
“Don’t you usually pack a lot less?”
She shrugged. “Since I’m mostly working from home, I figured no harm in planning to stay a few extra days.”
The thought to pack a bag and turn supper into a long weekend had occurred to him as well, but then he decided that might fall in the camp of dramatically over reacting. Maybe he shouldn’t have reconsidered. “That’ll make Mom happy.”
His sister flashed a huge toothy grin. “I know.”
“Women,” he muttered, laughing to himself. That kid and his other sister had everyone in the family wrapped around their fingers from the day they were born, and he doubted that would ever change.
Retreating down the hall, he turned into his father’s domain. Charles Sweet’s study hadn’t changed much since the days when Preston and his siblings had trotted around on wooden pony sticks with makeshift lassos and pretended to rope everything from the toy horses to the desktop lamp—and each other. In an effort to keep them all in one piece, their father had dutifully uttered the occasional warning of ‘be careful’ or ‘not so rough’—most likely for their mother’s benefit. More so though, their dad had simply done his best to get through the paperwork part of the ranch business while his sons created havoc around him.
Funny, in all the time since they’d buried their father, the familiar scent of their father’s aftershave seemed to still linger in the air. Or perhaps it was nothing more than memories and wishful thinking.
“Did Mom tell anyone why we’re all here?” Carson uncapped the crystal decanter behind the desk then raised an empty glass to his brother.
“No thanks.” He waved off the silent invitation. “Rachel is unpacking. Neither of us has any idea what this is all about.”
Carson sank heavily in one of the oversized leather chairs, swirled the ice in the two fingers of bourbon, and took a long swallow.
“Looks like you’ve had a hard day.” Preston took a seat across from him, leaving the sofa and a smaller chair for his mom and siblings.
“Hard week.” Carson eyed the glass glimmering from the reflection of the nearby lamp. “Heck, more like weeks.”
Preston leaned forward and threaded his hands in front of him. “What’s wrong?”
“Just another day in the flip world. Turns out the most recent project we sank all our available cash into is now knee deep in litigation.”
“That’s something new.”
“For me it is. Seems all the houses in that subdivision are in a class action suit against the original developers and we can’t do squat until it’s settled. My ninety day rehab schedule just went down the drain.”
"So now what?”
“Not sure. I’m okay for a while, but the reno budget is growing tighter every day until I come up with a plan B.”
“Sorry, man.” Preston changed his mind about that drink after all.
The loose board by the threshold squeaked announcing his sister’s arrival. “A little early to be drinking isn’t it?”
“What’s that saying, it’s five o’clock somewhere?” Carson leaned forward and set his drink on the table then looked at his watch. “It’s been five on the east coast for over half an hour.”
“In that case,” Rachel smiled up at Preston still at the bar, “make mine on the rocks.”
“Aren’t you too young to drink?” Carson teased.
“I should be twenty one again.”
“Twenty one? Aren’t you sixteen?”
“Here we go again.” Rachel accepted her glass and rolled her eyes at her brothers.
Didn’t matter how old she grew, in their eyes she and Jillian would always be the kid sisters who needed their big bad brothers to take care of them.
“Never mind that.” Preston figured the least he could do was reel in his brother’s sense of humor, especially since they had more pressing matters at hand. Setting his drink aside he slid his phone from his pocket and hit his mom’s number.
“Mom?” Rachel asked.
Preston nodded, and Carson scooted to the edge of his seat, carefully watching the phone, then sliding back when the call went to voice mail.
“Anyone else starting to feel guilty for making Mom worry when we missed curfew and forgot our phones?”
“Not me,” Preston smiled. “I was perfect.”
Rachel rolled her eyes at him and then her face stiffened. “Seriously maybe we should make some phone calls. Friends, Ray, make sure she’s all right.”
“She’s a grown woman who has worked this ranch for longer than any of us have been alive, and running it just fine without Dad. I’m sure she’ll be here any minute and laugh off our concerns.” Carson’s words painted a picture of a calm unconcerned son, but the look in his gaze and leaving a half full drink unfinished spoke volumes to just how concerned he was about their mother’s tardiness. What in heaven’s name could she be up to?
******
“Loud noise reactivity. Perceived confrontation. German Shepherd. What time?” Sarah Conroy tapped the pad she’d used to scribble data on the most recent dog needing to be homed. With the sudden onslaught of military working dogs coming through the system her usual sources for fosters were growing slim. There had to be an answer and she’d better find it before Tuesday morning at zero nine hundred hours. A few more details and requisite polite exchange of weather, family, and allergy season, and she disconnected the call and brought her laptop screen to life.
“I have to run.” Her father grabbed a protein bar off the counter and shoved it in his jacket pocket, then casually pilfered one, then two, of the chocolate chip cookies she’d made earlier in the day. “Mary Mahoney has finally gone into labor for real.”
“Finally?” She’d been daughter to a country doctor long enough, and spent enough summers playing receptionist and aid to know almost as much about medicine as her father. Though every med school in the world would probably disagree with her. Still, even she knew that every pregnant woman eventually finally had a baby.
“She’s ten days overdue and every time Braxton hicks start she’d be in my office convinced this was the time.”
“How do you know this isn’t another false alarm?” As sure as she knew her name was Sarah Sue Conroy, she knew there would be a definitive answer.
“Heard it in her voice.”
And that was why her dad was so very good at what he did. She still remembered the time that Mrs. Harper had called to tell the doc that she was having strong twinges and was going to climb into the tub to relax before the main event. When her husband called back an hour later in a panic, her father told him to hold the phone close to his wife’s face so Sarah’s father could listen. A few long moments later and the well-loved old doctor informed Mr. Harper not to wait for him, but rather to take his wife to the hospital and don’t worry about the speed limits, the sheriff would understand. An hour later Faith Harper was born.
Her father paused long enough to kiss her on the temple. “It’s nice to have you back. Not much about the chaos in today’s world I’m happy about, but having you working from the house is a welcome change. Love you.”
“Love you too. And it’s nice to be back.” In the half a dozen years since she’d moved to Austin, she hadn’t realized just how much she missed living in a sleepy small town. Apparently she missed it all a lot. A whole lot of lot. Especially chatting over dinner about anything from Mildred McEntire’s latest bedazzled outfit, to who’d won that day’s corn hole match at the park, to the latest fight at the town council over their beloved town of Honeysuckle, Texas. Nary a week went by when there wasn’t a disagreement of some kind between the faction who wanted to promote the honeysuckle arts and crafts that filled the Main Street shops with everything from candles to potpourri, and the faction who felt being corn hole capital of Texas was the bigger advantage for promotion dollars.
"Odds are I’ll be home late.” Her dad stood at the open front door. “First babies usually take their sweet time. If I am, you go ahead and take your mother’s casserole out of the oven and invite yourself over to the Sweets. Alice would probably enjoy the company. Even though it’s been over a year, she’s still a bit out of sorts over losing Charlie, not that she realizes it.” He pressed his lips into a thin line and shook his head with a sigh. “Anyhow, company would do her good.”
“Will do!”
The front door closed in the distance and Sarah pushed to her feet. A casserole dinner with Ms Alice would be way more fun than eating alone, waiting for her parents to come home. When the women in town got together for whatever planning committee, it always went long, always included some of Abigail Fine’s honeysuckle wine, and Sarah’s mom always was the last to leave. Hence the stack of emergency casseroles stashed in the extra freezer. Besides, she hadn’t seen any of the Sweets since Charlie’s funeral. It was a miserable reason to come home and she’d barely had any chance to say more than “I’m sorry for your loss” to the kids she’d lived next door to for most of her life.
According to the oven clock, dinner would be ready in thirty minutes. Enough time for her to get a little work done. Alice had done such a great job with her son’s dog, maybe she would have a few suggestions for Sarah. She’d opened a new browser and watched the swirly thing spin when another thought smacked her upside the head. Why not ask Ms. Alice? After all, if she was left alone to rattle around in the big house, a new dog could be just the ticket. That is if Brady and the foster could share Alice and the house. It was the perfect solution really. Therapeutic companionship for everyone. Yes. The more she thought about it the more she was sure this would be the answers she needed. Now all she had to do was convince Alice Sweet.
E-Books
|
|
|
|
|
|
Save 10% on E-Books when you buy direct from Chris !
