The Way to Texas (20 page)

Dawn didn't really want to discuss toilet paper. She
didn't want to discuss anything. She wanted to drive out to Jack's ranch, pull on her ratty flannel pajamas and throw the quilts over her head. She didn't want to deal with life. She wanted to avoid it. Unfortunately, life wasn't going to wait on her to get over Tyson. The world kept turning. Buying toilet paper and making idle conversation.

Emma smiled. “That will be $12.78.”

Dawn slid her debit card through the machine.

“Yep. Once you find the right one, you can't go back,” Emma said, her eyes finding Dawn's. Finally, Dawn understood. Emma wasn't talking about toilet paper.

Dawn opened her mouth, but couldn't think of a thing to say.

Emma handed her the receipt and the bag. “Here you are. Have a good day, Dawn. And try to find it in your heart to give him a second chance.”

Dawn couldn't reply. Emma had already turned to Betty Monk who grinned at her like an elderly Kewpie doll.

Dawn stood there for a moment, holding the bag of coffee and toilet paper, and wondered what in the hell had happened. People in Oak Stand must have gotten a hold of some bad turkey. Or they didn't have anything better to do than meddle in everyone else's business. What had happened between her and Tyson wasn't anybody else's business.

Last night, she'd chucked out her earlier reasons for staying in Oak Stand, deciding she needed to get back to Houston. She was a city girl. She had no business in Small Town, U.S.A.

But deep down, she didn't want to leave.

She liked her job.

She liked her life in the simple town.

And she loved Tyson.

Her heart crumbled as the doors swooshed open. Tyson walked in and Laurel trailed behind him.

No way.

Surprise registered on his face. Laurel looked up from tapping on her phone and stared.
Uncomfortable
wasn't even the word. There was no word for the moment.

Dawn ripped her gaze from his broad shoulders and hurt eyes. He'd made his bed. And now he could lie in Karen's. Because Dawn's bed was no longer available. Neither was her heart. It was closed. Not just temporarily, but in a condemned, no-one-else-is-going-in sort of way.

“Dawn.” His voice was soft.

She ignored him and slipped out of the store before the tears could fall.

Broken hearts sucked.

H
ERMAN THE
C
HIHUAHUA SAT
on the back porch, licking his dainty paws. He was the ugliest of dogs, so homely, in fact, people couldn't help but love him.

The Sandersons had outfitted him with a bright red Christmas collar. A note was attached.

Dawn pulled it loose as Tyson pulled his truck into the drive.

He climbed out of the truck, gave her a cursory glance, then headed around the front of the house, holding his tool kit. His dismissal said it all. Laurel slid from the passenger seat and followed behind him, as silent as a monk. She didn't even have her phone in hand.

Dawn sighed. Tyson was working. He had a job to do. Just like she did. No time for nursing wounded pride or overthinking bad decisions.

She glanced down at the note in her hand which said something about needing to go out on a limb to pick the fruit. Herman blinked up at her in expectation.

Great. Now the dog was giving her advice.

She knew why she shouldn't go out on a limb. Because the damn thing would break and she'd end up bruised and battered. Better to stick to admiring the fruit from afar and eating something from a package. Like a Snickers bar.

Dawn gave Herman a pat on the head and balled up the paper. Someone was up to something. The whole
town couldn't be in on it. Or could it? Who would have rallied the troops?

Tyson?

No. She couldn't see him doing something so…strange. But she knew who would. Someone who knew this town. Nellie. But how had she accomplished it so quickly?

“Dawn? You out there?” Margo called from inside the center.

“Coming,” Dawn responded. She pulled the bag holding her purchases from the patio chair and went inside.

Mass confusion met her. Ester had Christmas lights stretched across the parlor, and several of the elderly men held pruning shears which they used to lop off jutting branches on the tree sitting in front of the double windows of the parlor. Grady stood to one side, directing everyone while Rufus Stevens played carols on the piano.

“We're putting up the Christmas tree Tyson brought by earlier,” Grace called as she tried to untangle a ball of ornament hooks.

“I see,” Dawn said, rubbing her temples. She'd forgotten today kicked off the Christmas season. Funny, how having one's heart yanked from one's chest made everything else fade into white noise. Yep, blue Christmas on its way.

Laurel came through the front door, juggling boxes of what looked to be more Christmas lights. The girl's hair had been caught in a low ponytail, making her look much younger than she usually did. She flashed a smile at Ester. Her braces gleamed in the twinkle lights.

“Right here, honey. I'll check all those in a moment,” Ester said, patting a spot right next to her on the settee.
Tyson's daughter sank down and started taking the cardboard lids off the boxes.

“My Grammy boxed these up years ago. Gramps hadn't gotten these decorations down from his attic in so long. I'm glad he's letting y'all use them. I think they're pretty,” Laurel said, handing a strand of old-fashioned large bulb lights to Ester.

“Not as pretty as you are, though, honey.” The older woman patted Laurel's cheek and the girl beamed.

Tyson's daughter looked different.

Something warmed inside Dawn to see the young teenager so pleased to be involved. It was the way Tyson had envisioned his daughter many times—a young girl with a tendril of joy wrapped around her. For once, genuineness shone on Laurel's face. “Why, they
are
pretty! Look at these,” Grace said, holding up several crocheted angels. “I think Annie must have made them.”

Dawn moved into the room. Laurel caught sight of her and her smile faltered. Dawn took an angel from Grace, fingering the intricate crocheted lace. “Yes, handmade and exquisite. Thank you for letting us borrow them, Grady.”

“Weren't doing a bit of good up in the attic sitting underneath that old moose head,” Grady said. “Laurel suggested we bring them here.”

Dawn looked at Tyson's daughter. “Thank you, Laurel.”

The girl's cheeks pinkened slightly as she ducked her head. “You're welcome.”

The glow that had started inside Dawn spread, filling her with warmth. For the first time since she'd spied Tyson with Karen, she smiled.

“Dawn, you'll help us, won't you?” Ester asked as
she picked through a box of extra bulbs. “Margo went to make hot chocolate, and we need someone to start wrapping these lights around the tree.”

Dawn gave Ester a salute. She should let the woman run the center. She ordered everyone around anyway.

“I'll help you,” Laurel said, grabbing a strand from Ester and meeting Dawn at the tree. “I'll stand on this side and hand them to you.”

“Thanks,” Dawn said, taking the extension cord Grady stuck in her hand. She couldn't figure out what had come over Laurel. The girl looked eager to please. Like a magic wand had been waved.

Several minutes passed as Rufus continued to pound out the carols. Several of the ladies sang along, their shaky sopranos a bit off-key. Margo emerged with a tray of hot chocolate and handed the steaming cups to participants while Laurel and Dawn silently wrapped the lights about the large tree.

“I'm sorry,” Laurel murmured passing the strand to Dawn.

“No problem. I'll catch that spot on the next pass.”

The girl held the lights and looked at Dawn. “No, I mean, I'm sorry for acting like…I don't know…a butt-hole this whole time.”

Dawn stopped positioning the lights and looked at Laurel. “Oh.”

The girl's cheeks were definitely pink. “I mean, I shouldn't have acted so—” she lowered her voice and leaned closer “—bitchy.”

Dawn pressed her lips together to prevent the smile trying to emerge. Laurel pulled back and studied a wayward branch.

“I was unfriendly to you for no good reason. I just—”
Laurel sighed “—I just don't know how things are supposed to go anymore in my life. You know?”

“I know. Life can hit you over the head sometimes.”

Cheating ex-husbands, failed business ventures and broken hearts. Life could definitely rough a person up. But Dawn had sworn she would not be defeated. She'd even dared to hope again. Hope that Tyson would be different. Her third time's the charm guy.

Laurel's gaze finally met hers. “It's been crazy for me. Like everything got turned upside down. My dad being gone. Mom and Corbin. Dad moving away. It's got me—”

“Spinning?” Dawn finished for her. “Yeah, you know, things have got me spinning here lately, too.”

Dawn continued tugging the string of lights through the inner branches of the fragrant pine. Sap glimmered on the trunk, ensuring a sweet fragrance though she knew she'd have to mind the ornaments didn't get ruined.

“I've made things harder for my dad. He and I talked about stuff last night. First time in a long time.”

Dawn was proud of Tyson for meeting the problems with his daughter head-on. Yesterday must have been a catalyst for both of them.

“He's had it hard. I mean, what my mom did wasn't cool. I knew it back then, but I didn't know what to say. I was just a little kid.”

Dawn stifled another smile, but didn't say anything. Laurel was still just a kid. In so many ways.

“I felt bad for Daddy when he came home from Iraq. I think he knew my mom had done something wrong. I didn't know what to do to make him feel better. I tried, but I was so mad at him. Like he could change
everything to how it had been before he left, but he didn't want to.”

Dawn finally spoke. “Well, you were in a bad situation. None of it your doing.”

“Yeah, I know. But still, I haven't been acting too nice. My therapist told Mom it was, like, normal. I guess I just allowed my anger to make me sorta out of control.”

“I think it's very mature of you to recognize it.”

Laurel nodded. “Yeah, I've been thinking about a lot of things here lately. Mostly about Dad. He's been unhappy for a while, but when I got here, I could tell something was different.”

Dawn felt her heart leap at the girl's words. Like an inflatable raft with the first puff of air, life stirred, unsticking the collapsed parts. She could feel tears in the back of her throat.

“He was happy again. And I could see the way he looked at you. You know, that look the guy gets in the movie when he stares at the girl he just saved. Right before they kiss and stuff.” Laurel paused and fingered one of the bright Christmas bulbs. “This place makes him happy.”

Dawn cleared her throat. “It's a special town.”

Laurel nodded. “Yeah. When I was little, we visited all the time. I rode horses and went fishing and stuff. I like it here.”

“I do, too.” Dawn glanced back at the clients of her center. They smiled and sang along with the carols, feeling purpose, feeling alive. Nellie had done a good thing with the center. And at that moment, Dawn knew Tucker House was exactly where she belonged. Something bad had brought her to Oak Stand, but something good kept her here. She'd stay here. Build her future here.

“My dad's miserable, Mrs. Taggart.” Laurel's blue eyes, so like her mother's, were plaintive. “Maybe you could talk to him.”

Dawn looked hard at Tyson's daughter, so pretty, young and intent on making amends. And that's when she felt the dam of emotions break, flooding her with the sweetest, most intense sense of rightness.

Of conviction.

She loved Tyson.

And that was all she needed to know at that moment.

“My dad's upstairs, staining the bookcases,” Laurel said, giving her an encouraging smile.

Dawn smiled. “Maybe I should go see if he wants some hot chocolate.”

“Yeah.” Laurel's smile stretched into a grin.

Grady appeared at her elbow as if summoned. “Let me help this grandbaby finish up the tree. I haven't strung lights in twenty years.”

Dawn handed him the bundle of lights. “Then I better let you get back into practice. Laurel seems the kind of girl who expects things to be decorated in her life.”

“Yep, she's a real ballbuster like her grandmother.”

“Grady!” Dawn sputtered.

Laurel and Grady started laughing. Dawn shook her head and turned toward the stairs.

Time to talk to Tyson.

 

T
YSON SLID THE BRUSH
along the wood in even strokes, taking special care not to come in contact with the freshly painted baseboard. He'd have to do a few touch-ups, but he wanted to minimize the amount of time he'd spend cleaning up his mistakes.

He needed to finish this job on time. If only because of Dawn.

He sighed as he dipped the paintbrush into the golden oak stain. How would he survive the censure in her eyes every time he looked her way? How could he stand seeing her each day as she smiled warmly and stopped to assist a client at the center? How would he endure her scent in the air, the curve of her backside, the plumpness of her lips?

He couldn't fathom it.

The monotony of the painting calmed him. He'd given his workers the day off, so the room was quiet. Perfect for thinking. Which was likely not a good thing.

Music filtered up the stairs along with the chatter of the elderly clients. He heard Margo announce hot chocolate was ready then he heard his grandfather and Laurel laugh.

His heart swelled to hear his daughter's laughter. Laurel. Something had happened with her over the course of the past twenty-four hours. He figured she and Karen had had a little heart-to-heart. It had made his daughter lighter, more accepting. She'd even left her cell phone in the truck. And she'd actually agreed with him when he said they should buy a huge blow-up Christmas Snoopy for the front lawn. He'd nearly fallen over in the middle of the Shop and Save.

He set the brush on a piece of cardboard so he could stretch his stiff shoulder then realized he wasn't alone.

Dawn stood in the open doorway with a steaming mug.

“Hey,” she said, her voice as soft as the expression in her eyes. She looked different. No censure. No stubborn tilt. No radiating ire.

“Hi.”

“It's looking really good in here.” She stepped into the room and glanced around.

He took her in like a dying man takes in water. She wore a fuzzy dark pink sweater that was worn at the elbows. Her hair spilled about her shoulders and she had circles under her eyes. Still, she was the prettiest thing he'd seen this side of the Mississippi.

“Getting there,” he said, walking toward the kitchen to where the granite countertops had just been installed. He ran a hand over the surface, sweeping away construction dust. “Do you like the counters?”

Dawn strolled toward him. She glanced at the surface beneath his hand. “They're beautiful.”

“And the windows? I think the window company did a nice job preserving the original look.” He watched as her eyes flitted toward the beveled walnut windows. She licked her lips and he felt himself stir. Damn. He had to control himself. He couldn't get hard every time Dawn ran her tongue over her delicious mouth. He saw many cold showers in his future.

“They're lovely,” she said. Her fingers slid through her hair, pushing it behind her ears. He knew what that meant. She was nervous. “Hot chocolate?”

He took the mug but didn't take a sip. “So the bookcases will be dry by tomorrow. I'll come put another coat on them so we can install the hardware on Monday.”

“I should have listened to you.”

Something lurched in his chest before he could tell himself she likely spoke about the construction of the room. “About what?”

“Yesterday. I should have listened to you. Let you explain what happened.”

He wiped the dust from his fingertips as relief
flooded him. Maybe they could salvage the disaster of Thanksgiving. “Yeah, you should have.”

She had the decency to turn the color of her sweater. “Yeah, wasn't my best moment. All I can say is that I was really angry.”