The Way to Texas (8 page)

Again, she tried out a smile. “Yeah, it's a nice day for taking a ride. This is my friend, Tyson Hart.”

Dawn gestured to Tyson. He nodded at the girl.

“Oh, hi,” she said, flashing him a practiced smile, the one she used on every male she encountered. The girl was a man-eater in training. “Those your four-wheelers?”

He nodded. “Well, one of them. I've been teaching Dawn to ride.”

Andrew's mouth turned down. “Yeah, I see that. I thought you were going to Houston this weekend, Mom. To see Dad.”

“No, you were mistaken,” Dawn said, folding her arms across her chest. “I thought you were in Houston.”

Andrew's eyes flashed with something. Guilt? Anger? “Guess neither of us did what we said we'd do, huh?”

She ignored his sarcasm. “Tyson, this is my son, Andrew. I wasn't expecting him this weekend,” she said, allowing the anger to creep back in her tone. She'd been asking her son for weeks to come for a visit. He'd claimed fall baseball practice and difficult classes had him too tied up. Obviously, the ropes had loosened. Or maybe Marcie had more power than a pathetic mother with no future and no real home.

Andrew didn't extend a hand toward Tyson. Rather, he crossed his arms and dismissed him. “I came for Carter Harp's Halloween party.”

“Really? So where'd you stay?” Dawn asked, crossing her own arms. Marcie shifted in her trendy running
shoes and looked away. The girl knew when battle lines had been drawn. Tyson remained silent, but he rubbed small circles on her back.

“I slept over at Marcie's house. With Marcie,” her son said, his lips twisting into a smirk. Dawn felt it. Felt what he tried to do—punish her. Flaunt his inappropriate behavior in front of her while looking down his nose at her—the double standards game.

“Oh, really?” she said. “Well, I hope you were responsible. I don't need Nick Patterson standing on Jack's doorstep with a shotgun. Nor am I ready to be a grandmother.”

Marcie turned the color of the sweetgum leaves on the tree behind her. Andrew didn't look embarrassed in the least. “We're good. It's a lesson Dad beat into me, if you remember.”

She didn't say anything. Her heart hurt too much. She'd missed her good-natured child over the past few months. Why was he so angry? Because she'd kissed another man? Because she hadn't fallen for his prearranged weekend with Larry the Snake? Because she wasn't bending over backward to please him?

Tyson patted her back one last time before dropping his hand. “Well, we'll be on our way now we know you two are being conscientious sex partners. Come on, Dawn.” He held out his hand. She looked at it for a moment before taking it.

They walked to the four-wheelers parked just off the trail. Dawn climb on hers while Tyson tossed the bottles into the storage compartment and climbed on.

Andrew stood like a statue, his face fixed in belligerence. Poor Marcie searched the bushes for escape. She looked like the brown hare except much more des
perate. The whole situation couldn't have been more uncomfortable.

Just before she hit the button to bring the engine to life, Andrew stepped forward with his hand up. “Hey, Tyson, I appreciate your acknowledging my sexual responsibility, man. I'd appreciate it if you do the same. She's my mom, and someone's got to look out for her.”

Andrew tossed her a meaningful look and strolled toward the pond.

Smart-ass.

Tyson turned and looked at her. She couldn't stop the tears from springing to her eyes. This whole outing had been a colossal mistake. She now reaped the benefit of her impulsiveness. Of her stupid desires. This was a reminder. She needed to stay focused on her future. On figuring out where she would be this time next year. She had to stick to the plan. And Tyson Hart had never been part of any plan.

As she cranked the four-wheeler, she cranked up her resolve to stay the path.

No more straying. She'd sacrifice the hidden ponds and sweet kisses for an actual destination.

J
ACK BALANCED HIS DAUGHTER
in his lap and frowned at Dawn. “He's nineteen, for Christ's sake. What did you expect?”

“I know Andrew's age and I'm not so stupid I don't realize he's sleeping with Marcie, but he didn't even call to say he was in town. And even worse, he's trying to set me up with Larry. I don't get it. Ever since that weekend Larry stayed in our guest room, he's been shoving us together. Time to get over the ol' parents' divorce, don't you think? But I'm more angry he didn't come by the ranch.”

Jack cradled the baby so he could take a big bite from a caramel apple sitting on the table beside him. “He was looking for his treats elsewhere.”

Dawn wanted to throw something at her brother. She didn't even want to entertain the idea. The whole situation made her sad. And angry. When had things fallen apart between her and her son?

“Well, I don't want to talk about it,” she said, kicking off her running shoes. She'd just gotten in from a run around the ranch and decided she needed trail shoes. The rocky Texas ground had caused splinters of pain to shoot through her knees. The run hadn't cleared her mind anyhow. Only cluttered it more.

“Don't want to talk about what?” Nellie said, slipping
into the den and whisking her daughter away from her husband.

“Hey, give her back,” Jack said. “We're making faces at each other.”

“Honey, that's her poopy face. Unless you'd rather change the diaper?” Nellie said, picking up the toile diaper bag at his feet.

“Nope. Wouldn't want to stop you from practicing your craft. You get the diaper perfect. I'm just in your shadow.” Jack hit the lever on the recliner and launched himself back.

“You need more practice,” Nellie said, sticking out her tongue while still managing to look about as content as a woman could—a beautiful newborn baby in one hand, a husband at arm's reach and a future that looked as secure as Fort Knox.

Future? Dawn didn't want to go there. Hers was like a rickety bridge spanning a gorge. The one from all the movies—old, fraying, missing planks. Skeletons scattered below. Precarious. Very precarious. Which was a bad thing for a gal who liked to plan out which panties she'd wear for the week.

Little Mae mewled like a kitten as her mother set her on the striped couch and kissed her baby feet before tugging up the pink gown covered in yellow duckies. “So what are we not talking about?”

“The fact Andrew came to town and didn't tell Dawn. And the fact he's pissed off because she was with another man,” Jack said, tugging a dog-eared copy of
Sports Illustrated
from beneath a pile of
Child
magazines.

“He's dating the Patterson girl, isn't he?” Nellie said, making kissing faces at Mae. Dawn wanted to tell her the baby couldn't even see her mother at that distance, but didn't. Nellie likely wouldn't stop anyway.

“Yeah, he's been seeing her off and on again for a while. I don't expect it to go anywhere. She's a small-town girl who fascinates him,” Dawn said, sinking into a chair beside the stacked stone fireplace.

Nellie called the den Jack's man cave, but Dawn liked the room better than any other. It reminded her of her father's office when she was a girl. The walls were painted adobe and the room boasted comfy overstuffed furniture and rustic Texas decor. The wood floor beneath Dawn's bare feet shone lustrously in the warm lamplight. A Navajo patterned rug centered the room underneath an antler chandelier.

“Nothing wrong with a small-town girl,” Nellie said, focusing on her sister-in-law.

Dawn had foot-in-mouth syndrome. She figuratively removed her socked foot from her mouth. “Sorry.”

“No offense taken. We country gals roll with the punches. But why does it bother you that he's seeing Marcie?”

Andrew seeing Marcie wasn't what was bothering her. It was Andrew seeing her and Tyson in the woods preparing to rip each other's clothes off. But she didn't want that kernel of information out there. In any form. She still had issues with what they had done. Guilt and want balled up into a massive knot of confusion in her brain.

“No. I shouldn't be one of those moms who thinks her baby is too good for a girl. I'm just bothered that he and I are on two different wavelengths. I feel like I'm not even a part of his life anymore. We always had an honest relationship. Well, as honest as a boy can be with his mother.”

“Exactly,” Jack said, not looking up from the magazine. “Mothers never know their children as well as they
think they do. You don't want to know the stuff I hid from our mother.”

“But I do,” Nellie said. Her eyes sparkled in the dim room.

Jack eyed her. “Trust me. You don't. It's killing me to know I have to raise a daughter. I know too much about horny boys.”

Nellie laughed. Dawn didn't. Her son was obviously one of those boys. Maybe all boys from thirteen to ninety were like that. Maybe that's all Tyson wanted, too. She didn't know his heart nor his intent for her.

This thought stilled her. Another good reason to redraw the line of friendship and not cross it.

“I guess it hurts to know Drew didn't want to see me. I haven't seen him since the beginning of September. And even then, he spent much of his time with Marcie while I washed his socks. You'd think he'd want to at least come by and say hello.” She probably sounded whiny, but she missed Andrew desperately. Didn't he get that? He was her baby. Always would be.

“Nope,” Jack said, making her want to slap him. “It's the natural progression of things. In fact, maybe his trying to hook you up with the Lar Man is his way of protecting you from being lonely. Maybe he's worried about you after the year you went through. Maybe he feels bad he's not around anymore.”

Dawn tilted her head. “Huh?”

“Like if you're not alone, he doesn't feel guilty.”

“Then why would it have to be Larry? Why would he be mad I was with another guy?”

“'Cause Larry's his father. That makes it easier. There is no unknown.”

Dawn frowned. That twist had never crossed her mind. “You're not really helping.”

“So what about Tyson? Did you have fun riding on the four-wheelers?” Nellie was good at changing the subject. It was as though she could smell an argument coming on.

Tyson.

The taste of his mouth had popped into Dawn's thoughts more than she cared to admit as she'd pounded the trail stretching across the ranch. She kept reliving their kiss in her mind. How good he'd felt pressed against her. How he'd tasted like sweet tea and temptation. And how wrong it had all been.

The trip to the Longs' house had been awkward. Her emotions had been swirling like a Texas-size dust storm. When they'd finally rolled into the yard and killed the engines, she couldn't force any cheerfulness. They'd said the minimum, called out “thanks” to Avery, who'd come out to wave goodbye, then Dawn had driven away. “Dawn?”

Her head snapped up as Nellie called her name. “Yes?”

“The four-wheelers?”

“Oh. We had a nice time. Avery and his brood have the stomach flu, so it was just Tyson and me. I actually enjoyed the ride. Go figure.”

Nellie cast a worried look at the baby. “You didn't get around the Longs', did you?”

Dawn smiled. “No, Avery popped his head out the back door and said hello. No contact.”

Her sister-in-law released her breath. “Well, I'm glad you liked the ride. Although, I thought it was an odd activity for a date.”

“It wasn't a date. Just an outing.”

Jack snorted. “Right.”

Before Dawn could make a sarcastic comeback, the
phone rang. Jack scooped up the cordless handset from the table beside him and answered while Dawn gave her sister-in-law an exasperated face. Nellie grinned and patted Mae's back. “It's probably Lila. She's been calling every day to check on Mae.”

“Mom can't wait to get her hands on that grandbaby. I can't believe she took that trip with Dad. She hated Wyoming last time. He told her they'd be back in time for the birth. Guess a freak blizzard and an impatient baby shut that down.”

“She may never forgive me or Wyoming,” Nellie said, kissing the baby's head.

“Or Dad,” Dawn said. Her mother still hadn't gotten over the fact her father had cashed in on the promise she made him so long ago—the dream of his own horse ranch. Of course, Tom Darby built her an exact replica of the California farmhouse in which she'd been raised in order to entice her south. Having a new grandbaby had sweetened the deal.

Jack placed the phone on the table. “That was Tyson. He won't be in tomorrow. His grandfather had a heart attack and he's at the hospital in Longview with him.”

Dawn's own heart dropped to her stomach. “Oh, no. That's horrible.”

Nellie murmured much the same. “Terrible. Mr. Hart's about all he's got family-wise. Well, except for his daughter.”

“I better head over to the hospital.”

“Dawn, it's nearly eight o'clock and Longview's so far away. Just call him,” Nellie said, nuzzling the baby's downy head as she began to fret. Mae bobbed her head against her mother's shoulder in that frantic rooting motion all newborns performed when it was time for dinner.

“He doesn't have anybody else, Nell. I'm his friend and that's what friends do. Did he say how bad it was?”

Jack shook his head. “They just got to the hospital. He said he thought Grady was stable, but Tyson is stuck in the ICU waiting room while the doctors work on Grady.”

Dawn picked up the socks and shoes she'd abandoned next to the chair. “I'd better go, but first I'm grabbing a shower. I can't offer a sweaty shoulder.”

She almost missed the look Nellie shot Jack.

“Maybe I should drive you,” Jack said, lowering the footrest on his recliner.

Dawn shook her head. “I know the way. Stay with Nell and the baby.”

Jack shrugged his shoulders at Nellie and disappeared behind his magazine. His wife cleared her throat. He ignored her.

“Nellie, I'll be fine. I've got my cell. I'll call you when I get there and let you know how Grady is.”

She could tell Nellie didn't like the thought of her going alone, but her sister-in-law nodded and went back to fussing with the baby.

Sometimes having a family was a pain in the ass. She often wished she could rent a boat, drive them all out into the middle of the ocean and shove them off into watery depths. No more meddling, drama or guilt-trips. Other times, family made her feel gooey like a chocolate-chip cookie fresh from the oven.

This was a chocolate-chip moment.

 

T
HE SOUND OF HER SNEAKERS
squeaking on the polished hospital floor brought back a sense of déjà vu.

Had it only been three weeks ago she'd met Tyson and her newest niece?

Seemed impossible. She felt as if she'd known Tyson much longer than a mere three weeks. More like a lifetime.

The hospital was virtually empty except for the shadow of a passing nurse or orderly. The smell of disinfectant and despair lurked around each corner, and the elevator smelled like feet. After a wrong turn and a stop to the visitor restroom, she finally made it to the ICU waiting room.

Tyson was the only person in the room. He sat, head propped in his hands. She couldn't tell whether he was asleep, praying or lost in thought. But he looked pretty damn lonely. She was glad she'd come.

“Hey,” she called softly from the doorway.

His head snapped up and for a moment she saw fear in his eyes.

“Oh, good,” he said, before standing. She could see the relief radiating off him. “It's you.”

She gave a little shrug. “Thought you might need a friend.”

He sank onto the faux-leather chair. “Thanks.”

He didn't say anything else, but his shoulders relaxed a bit, as if having someone else there had lessened his burden.

She slid into one of the bright orange cushioned chairs and patted his arm. “Know anything yet?”

“Not really. I guess they're still running tests. I don't know.” He rubbed one hand over his face and sighed.

“These damned places take so long to do anything.”

She rubbed his arm. “When did it happen?”

His hand covered hers and he squeezed. He shifted their joined hands to his thigh. Hers fit nicely in his.
She liked the way his calloused fingers stroked the skin between her thumb and fingers, the way his large hand contrasted against her smaller one.

“We were watching the Saints game. I'd fixed some cheese sticks—his favorite—and the second quarter had just started. He told me Drew Brees threw off his back foot on the last play then he stopped talking, gasped and went still. I couldn't get out of the chair fast enough.”

“Oh, Tyson, that's so scary.”

“Yeah, but he seemed okay. He started complaining about how the marinara sauce must have given him horrible indigestion. But I didn't think so. I had this gut feeling like something was wrong. So I carted his stubborn ass to the truck. He fought me the whole way. But when we were outside Longview, he started sweating profusely then passed out.”

She squeezed his hand.

“Scared the sh—mess out of me. I got here and they said it was probably a heart attack.” He swiped his arm over his forehead and leaned back, but he didn't let go of her hand. “Hell.”

Dawn knew she couldn't make his obvious distress disappear. She really didn't know what to do other than sit there with him. So she did.

For twenty minutes they waited, neither one making any sort of conversation. She stared at a Western landscape hanging crookedly on the utilitarian wall and the scuffs on the tiled floor caused by the chairs being moved around. Finally a plump nurse in green scrubs whose name tag read Delilah Newhouse, RN, popped her head into the room. Tyson's grip on her hand tightened.