Back to Texas (11 page)

Adam hoped he’d be able to see more of Dance of Hope in action during his time on the ranch. He admired their devotion and appreciated why Abby had left Charleston to work at the facility.

Adam knew Bridgett felt inferior to her newfound twin sister. But he didn’t think it was really because Abby had more education. Bridgett just hadn’t come into her own yet. She’d always lived under someone else’s roof, worked for someone else, and she didn’t have the financial means her sister did. He supposed moving away would give her the independence she needed, but he worried she would also feel very lonely. He didn’t think she realized the difference a tight-knit community and close family could make in someone’s life. Material things could only take you so far—he was proof of that.

Once he settled into living in the bunkhouse, getting dirty and developing more than guitar calluses on his hands, he would call his manager and give the approval to move ahead with the press releases. He wanted the chance to prove himself as a man, not only to Bridgett, his family and the rest of Ramblewood, but to himself. He wanted to look in the mirror at the end of the day and respect the man who stared back at him.

Adam parked his truck and met Shane in the ranch offices above the main stables.

“I’ll introduce you around up here and then you’ll fill out your paperwork.” Shane led Adam down a short hallway into a large communal office. “For a ranch this size, our office personnel is on the small side. My father stressed a casual yet professional environment while maintaining the family atmosphere.”

Adam’s nerves calmed further with each introduction. An overwhelming sense of belonging enveloped him. “I bet your employees appreciate the sentiment.”

“I think they do. We strive to be one big happy family. Of course, we have our moments and grate on each other’s nerves once in a while, but it won’t be long before you know everyone who works here. We’re in the process of completing the renovations on the bunkhouse you’ll be staying in. Is Saturday good for you?”

“Saturday’s perfect.” Adam’s excitement was marred solely by his disappointment about leaving Bridgett. He’d grown accustomed to living down the hall from her. Now she’d be across town.

“Don’t worry.” Shane slapped Adam on the back. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder. She’ll be itching to see you at the end of the day.”

Adam liked Shane. The man was straightforward and fully supported his relationship with Bridgett. Hopefully it stayed that way.

After filling out his employment forms, he sat down with the ranch’s accountant, Kenny Gilbert.

“I need to make a copy of your driver’s license and your Social Security card for our files, and if you’ll jot down the make, model and plate number of your truck I’ll get you a sticker for the side window. We tow any unauthorized vehicles and on a ranch this size, you’d be surprised how many teenagers try to sneak down of our back roads in search of a secluded hanky-panky spot.”

Adam chuckled at Kenny’s reference. The man might be in his late sixties, but Adam easily pictured him as the type to run off and find just such a spot in his day.

“I have my truck information written out for you already.” Adam removed a folded piece of paper from his wallet. “I figured you’d need it. And I apologize for the temporary license. I lost mine the other day and motor vehicles gave me a temporary. Once I receive my actual license in the mail, I’ll bring it in.”

Kenny nodded, and ran Adam’s information through the flatbed scanner. “I hear you and Bridgett are an item.” Adam silently thanked God when Kenny didn’t further question him about his identity. “Sweet kid. My wife says you two make a nice couple.”

“Thank you.” Adam grinned. He hadn’t realized they were the talk of the town.

“Just don’t break her heart,” Kenny continued. “How’s she doing? What a horrible thing for her to have to suffer through. And Darren, I don’t blame his wife for moving in with her parents in Oklahoma. Good thing their three kids are grown and living elsewhere. They won’t have to endure the garbage Bridgett has. Abby’s a cute little thing, though. Great addition to Dance of Hope.”

“Bridgett’s doing great, better than ever actually.” If Adam hadn’t already known the details of Bridgett’s situation, Kenny had divulged much more than anyone had a right to. No wonder the constant gossip upset Bridgett.

“Glad to hear it.” Kenny stood up and held out his hand. “You’re finished in here. See Shane about the bunkhouse on Saturday. He’ll give you a key when you move in. And welcome to Bridle Dance.”

It was official. Adam had transitioned from rock star to ranch hand. Walking through the stables, he longed to take one of the horses out for a ride. He hadn’t been in a saddle in over a year, but horsemanship never left your blood. He’d been born into ranching and it was probably where he should have remained. He still could have played guitar, maybe even given lessons. Either way, he wouldn’t have lost his family’s respect if he had stayed on the ranch and in the family business, just as his father had done. He wouldn’t have gotten rich, but he would have been a hell of lot happier.

As much as he wanted to call his family and tell them how he had begun to turn his life around he knew he still had a lot to prove. He’d tell Lizzy, and if she decided to tell them, fine. If not, Adam was all right with waiting. The more time he put in on the ranch, the more respect he’d earn. Anyone could get a job; doing the actual work was the hard part. And Adam was determined to work harder than he ever had before. He belonged back in Texas and God willing he’d live out his days with a good woman by his side. And he had just the woman in mind.

Chapter Seven

“God, I hurt.” Adam groaned, easing from his bed. “I need to soak in a hot tub.”

If he had still lived in Los Angeles, he would have. Adam was a few days into his new job, but yesterday had been roughest; overnight the pain and stiffness had increased. He needed to loosen up before somebody questioned his “good ol’ boy” roots. He definitely couldn’t limp like an old man once he moved into the bunkhouse tomorrow. Why had he agreed to take Bridgett dancing at Slater’s Mill tonight? Because he couldn’t stand to let her down. Maybe he could convince her to cuddle up with him in one of the softly padded booths. He wasn’t up for the “Boot Scootin’ Boogie”
line dance tonight.

Adam had expected to muck horse stalls for the first couple of weeks on the ranch, but instead he and Shane had ridden the fences from sunup to sundown. Even when he’d lived on his parents’ ranch, he hadn’t put in this much saddle time.

His entire body ached along with his male libido, which he’d squashed twice thanks to a few uncoordinated and poorly positioned mounts in the saddle. Adam had prayed Bridgett wouldn’t mistake his lack of physical desire as a sign that he was losing interest in their relationship.

Quite the opposite. They’d hardly spent more than an hour or two together during the past two days. When he’d arrived home from the ranch, they had both been ready to call it a day. Early mornings meant early nights, and that didn’t leave much of an opening for dating.

It would all be worth it in the end.
At least that’s what Adam told himself every night when he climbed into bed alone. If it worked out the way he had intended it to, he’d buy a nice house on a few acres of land in Texas and open his music school. The less time he spent with Bridgett, the more he ached for her. Shane had been right. It had made his heart grow fonder. He blessed modern technology for the ability to send text messages. He would’ve loved to video-chat with Bridgett but her prepaid phone didn’t have those capabilities. He had to keep reminding himself she didn’t have access to the luxuries he’d become accustomed to.

Adam’s life had changed the moment he’d walked into The Magpie and he’d seen Bridgett for the first time. It still amazed him how his morning had begun horribly that day and ended with so much hope.

That hope brought along an unexpected addition to his plans for the future. After seeing many of his new coworkers with their families on the ranch, Adam had begun to seriously contemplate having kids for the first time in his life.

Adam hobbled into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Children had never been on his radar before. Outside of a couple of the children’s charities the record label had sponsored, he hadn’t spent much time around them. He hadn’t been sure if he wanted any of his own, but the idea had begun to grow on him. He wondered how he’d do as a father. It’d been difficult enough dealing with four band mates, let alone babies and diapers. But his outlook was changing—he could feel the shifts within himself day by day. The thought of being a husband and a father was starting to grow on him...especially when he looked at Bridgett.

Adam managed to shower and shave before Bridgett left for The Magpie, then headed into the hallway hoping to catch her in the kitchen. After today, he wouldn’t be able to send her off to work with a kiss. Instead of the peaceful Bed & Biscuit, he’d wake to the sound of three other men snoring.

Bridgett’s door squeaked open. Her lips curled upward the instant she spotted him near the stairs. “Good morning.” Bridgett crossed the hallway, reached up and kissed him.

“Good morning.” Adam tugged her tighter to his body. The tension he’d felt moments ago eased as her fingers traveled across his chest.

A faint moan emanated from Bridgett. “It’s been one week since we first met.”

Adam pulled away a bit. “Are we celebrating?” Anniversaries of any sort hadn’t particularly meant much to Adam in the past, but maybe it was time to change that, too.

Bridgett’s eyes met his, their brightness beginning to fade. “Not if you don’t want to. I meant it feels as if we’ve known each other for longer. Don’t worry, I’m not one of those girly girls who need to celebrate stupid anniversaries.”

“They’re not stupid.” Adam dipped his head for another kiss. “I promise to be back at a reasonable hour tonight so we can head to Slater’s...to celebrate. Come on.” He reluctantly released her. “I’ll drop you off at work on my way to the ranch.”

No matter what it took, Adam realized, he wanted to remind Bridgett of their first meeting forty-nine years and fifty-one weeks from today. Nothing would stop them from staying together. Not even his past.

* * *

“J
UST
A
HEADS
-
UP
,”
Lark began as Bridgett walked behind the lunch counter. “Your mom called in a to-go
order.”

A week ago, knowing her mother would be stopping by would’ve bothered Bridgett. She’d asked Ruby to give her space and her mom had respected the request. Of course, it also gave her mother guilt-free time to spend with her new daughter, but that was okay, too. The two of them needed to get to know each other better anyway. Bridgett shook her head. Somewhere over the course of the past week, she’d actually accepted her mother’s relationship with Abby. If the situation had been reversed,
she would have wanted the time alone with her biological mom.

She might feel differently after seeing them together at a family function. She’d have that opportunity soon enough. Thanksgiving was a month away and Abby and Clay’s families had planned a huge Thanksgiving dinner as a pre-wedding party. Clay’s family had hosting duties and his mother had personally invited Bridgett and Ruby.

Somehow, Abby had ended up with a
full house
of parents
—
three fathers and two mothers. Bridgett had a short hand. Her mother, with her bouffant-styled candy-apple-red hair, bearing a striking resemblance to the Queen of Hearts, and a joker of a father. Bridgett cringed. She hoped Darren hadn’t been invited to Thanksgiving dinner, too. Knowing Clay’s parents’ generosity, he probably had been.

“Thanks for letting me know,” Bridgett said to Lark. “I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? I don’t have to go on break right now. You can head to lunch first and I’ll take care of the order.”

“Lark, I’m fine,” Bridgett reassured her friend. The woman she once thought appeared to be running from something had fast become a good friend. She still caught Lark looking out the window as if she anticipated someone’s arrival, but not nearly as often as she had when she’d first come to Ramblewood. “Enjoy your lunch.”

Lark hesitated at the door when Ruby walked in, but Bridgett waved her hand, urging Lark to continue on.

“Mom, your order won’t be ready for another ten minutes.” Bridgett totaled the bill on the cash register.

“Can we talk?” Her mother’s usual sing-song voice had faded to a meager plea.

Bridgett shook her head. “Not when I’m working. I refuse to give the people of Ramblewood anything more to gossip about.”

The entire luncheonette had gone silent and she cursed herself for not taking Lark up on her offer. This situation was exactly what Bridgett wanted to avoid.

“Order up!” Bert shouted from the kitchen and slammed his hand down on the silver bell. The sound resonated throughout the small restaurant. Bridgett turned to see Bert standing behind the pass-through window holding up two white takeout bags. He narrowed his eyes in Ruby’s direction and thrust the bags toward Bridgett. “We wouldn’t want to keep your customer waiting.”

Bridgett mouthed a silent thank-you to the man and placed the bags on the counter. She quickly took Ruby’s money and handed her back the change.

“I will stop by the salon after work. I can’t stay long and I have plans I don’t intend to change.”

“Plans with Adam?” Ruby asked.

“Mom, we will talk later.” Bridgett lowered her voice an octave. “I promise I will be there.”

Ruby left without another word and the remainder of the customers went back to their normal chatter. Her head began to throb and when Lark returned from her lunch break, Bridgett was more than ready to escape for a half hour. After a long walk in the park, she plowed through the rest of the day, which went quicker than she’d thought possible. Why was it whenever you dreaded something, it came upon you before you knew it? Yet, when it was something you really wanted—say spending a little alone time with your boyfriend—the day seemed to drag on forever.

“Do you have plans with Adam tonight?” Lark asked as they locked the luncheonette’s front door from the outside.

“We’re supposed to go to Slater’s. I won’t hold him to it, though.” Bridgett sighed. “He’s been coming in really late. I guess he’s trying to make a good impression at his new job. But he moves into the bunkhouse tomorrow, so this sort of feels like our last night together. I can’t wait to see him...but before I do anything, I need to swing by the salon and see what my mom wants.”

“Good luck,” Lark said. “No matter what she says, don’t let it bring you down. You’ve been so much happier and relaxed this past week with Adam around. I’d hate to see you retreat into a depressing funk again.”

“You and me both.” Bridgett faced the salon across the street. “Here goes nothing. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Entering the Curl Up & Dye Salon sent a chill down her spine. She hadn’t returned since the night her mother and Clay had asked her and Abby to meet them there. The night their lives had changed. The salon’s pink giraffe-print ceiling and sherbet-striped walls adorned with dozens of round mirrors in various sizes created an eclectic atmosphere. The sleek black styling chairs and frosted-glass manicure stations added a touch of sophistication. Today the salon was packed with customers in various stages of hair and nail treatments.

“Welcome to Curl Up & Dye, where we beautify until you’re satisfied,” Kylie sang from behind the counter before she even looked up, her hair in an extremely voluminous updo today. “Oh, hey, Bridgett. Ruby hadn’t mentioned you were stopping by.”

Ruby glided across the salon in her leather pants and thigh-high boots. Only a few months ago she’d been suffering with chronic pain, but now her limp was virtually undetectable thanks to daily physical therapy with Abby.

“Hello, sweetheart.” Ruby pulled her daughter into a suffocating hug. Her mother’s death grip, combined with too much perfume, made Bridgett wonder if Ruby was trying to kill her or welcome her.

“Why don’t we go into my office where it’s more private?” Dread set in and Bridgett almost reached out to stop her mother. She had to pick her poison. A brief public conversation sure to spread through town in a matter of minutes or a gut-wrenching private conversation sure to require tissues. They were both dim prospects.

“What’s with Kylie’s hair?” Bridgett snuck another look over her shoulder, hoping it would lighten the mood. “It’s so big and glittery.”

“One of the girls was practicing her wedding updos today and Kylie was the guinea pig.”

“What’s the theme of the wedding?” Bridgett asked. “Attack of the killer beehive?”

“I told her it was too much.” Ruby laughed. “But it’s her area of expertise. If the clients are okay with it, I am, too.”

Bridgett sat in the chair across from her mother. Neither one of them spoke.

“Well, Mom?” Bridgett leaned forward. “I’m here. What did you want to talk about?”

Ruby tilted her head to one side. “You seem different.”

Bridgett sighed.
Here we go with the Ruby theatrics.
“Mom, I’m exactly the same as I was last week, and the week before that. My hair hasn’t changed, my clothes haven’t changed, nothing has changed.”

“You’re glowing,” Ruby said, turning her head slightly, studying Bridgett further.

“It’s called grease.” Bridgett stood and grabbed a tissue off her mother’s desk, wiping at her face. “I worked in the kitchen most of the morning.”

“Are you pregnant?” Ruby asked as if it was the most normal question to ask her daughter in the middle of the afternoon.

Bridgett closed her eyes and tried to formulate a non-sarcastic answer. “No, I’m not. Why am I here?”

“Are you sure?” Ruby reached for her daughter. “If you’re not practicing safe sex, you know the risk you’re taking.”

Oh, that did it.
“You would know, because having an affair with a married man and getting pregnant makes you an expert.”

Ruby’s head jerked sideways as if Bridgett had physically slapped her across the face.

“That was harsh.”

“I’m sorry. Yes, it was. This is why I avoided the situation.” Bridgett walked to the office door. “Mom, just for the record I don’t blame you for getting pregnant with Darren’s baby, excuse me, babies. I blame Darren. He was a much older married man who knew better. I’m not even sure if it’s fair of me to blame you for separating Abby and me at birth. The jury’s still out on that one. But until I can figure it out, these conversations are not healthy for either one of us because we end up hurting each other. I don’t want that.”

Ruby stood, wringing her perfectly manicured hands. “How do we work through it then?”

“Let it come naturally.” The pain in her mother’s eyes gripped Bridgett’s heart like a vise. “You’ve done remarkably well at giving me my space these past few weeks and I thank you. I’m still hurt and angry, but not as much as when this first happened. Maybe I’ll see it your way one day. Can you accept that and promise not to force it? We need to take it day by day.”

“I don’t like it, but yes, I can.” Ruby dropped her arms to her sides and shifted away from the door. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

Bridgett stepped into the hallway, spun around and gave her mother a hug. “I love you, Mom. That hasn’t changed.”

“I love you, too, honey.” Tears ran down Ruby’s face, taking her mascara and eyeliner with it.

Bridgett swiped at her mother’s tears with her thumb. “I have to go. I have a cooking lesson with Mazie before my date with Adam tonight.”

Ruby dabbed at her makeup. “I’m sorry I couldn’t afford to send you to Le Cordon Bleu with Mazie.”