Minutes after the plane taxied to a full stop, Jackson Carver unbuckled, pulled the brim of his black Stetson low, and stood to grab his carry-on from the overhead compartment. Lincoln would pick him up in baggage claim and drive him the sixty miles home.
Two weeks before the wedding day, time he planned to use unwinding. Fresh off a fifty-city tour, he needed a long break. More like a hibernation. His last recording contract fell apart in a mix of creative differences and management issues. The producer they’d hired walked off, and all contracts were dissolved.
“Welcome to Texas,” the pilot said over the intercom and then went on to offer today’s temperatures.
Ah, Texas weather. There were only two seasons in Texas: winter and summer. They both often happened in the same week. To hear the pilot describe it, today was winter even if the calendar said June. Tomorrow, eighties were forecasted. No, Jackson wasn’t exactly a stranger to Texas, but for the past several years he’d resided both on a tour bus and in Nashville.
But he would have preferred a vacation on a deserted island. He wasn’t thrilled to be going back to his hometown and there was little else that could have brought him back other than Lincoln’s wedding. He would have preferred to return once his career took off but that hadn’t happened in eight long years. It was said that an overnight sensation took ten years, so he should be in the seventh inning stretch. Right.
He’d come home for the wedding, but it was also a good chance to unplug. With little to no cell phone reception on their ranch and spotty downtown, he’d be relegated to the home landline. He’d left the number with his manager and musician friends, for emergencies only.
The bright June sunshine pooled over the brim of his hat, casting his view in shadows. His boots thudded across the cement tarmac toward the small building of the regional airport. He followed the crowd to baggage claim, grabbed his guitar case and one other bag, then walked to the curb and scanned the horizon.
Lincoln stood just outside the driver’s side of his truck, wearing a dark leather jacket, Stetson, his long legs spread in a stance. Arms crossed. Big brother smirk firmly in place. Jackson might be known as Nashville’s cowboy among his friends and band members because of his ranching roots, but Lincoln Carver was the real deal.
Jackson stopped short of the truck, his gaze sweeping over the red four-wheel drive glimmering in the sun. Lincoln must have taken it through the car wash recently, because new or not, a truck that lived on their ranch was never this clean. He slid his hand down the hood in admiration.
“You dare pick me up in this piece of shit?” Jackson asked, sarcasm heavy.
Lincoln burst into loud peals of rich laughter and a moment later, he hauled Jackson into a bear hug. A bear hug because the man was a bear. Huge, even to Jackson’s six feet. He’d put on weight, too. And this before his wedding day.
“Missed you, little bro,” Lincoln said.
“Same.”
Jackson wasn’t much of a hugger anymore. He regularly hugged three people in his life: Lincoln, their younger sister, Daisy, and their grandmother, Mima.
“Guessing Sadie’s still a real good cook. You’ve put on a few since I last seen you.”
Linc pulled back to pat his belly. “Guessed right. Enjoyed every last minute of it.”
“Heard you were supposed to gain weight after the wedding.” He snorted.
Lincoln cleared his throat. “Lookin’ on the thin side yourself.”
“Mima will fix that in no time, I’m sure.”
Jackson expected a laugh, but when he didn’t get one, the small icicle that slid over his heart the second he’d heard who the maid of honor would be spread like tentacles. His family, doing their “Carver thing.” Keeping him in the dark like a mushroom. Feeding him just the same. Something was wrong.
“Yeah,” Lincoln said without looking at him. “Uh-huh. She will.”
They grabbed his luggage, threw it in the back, and climbed into the truck for the drive through Texas Hill Country to the small town of Stone Ridge. Their town was unique for a handful of reasons, one of them being that they were so far removed from everything that they tended to rely on each other. Now that he’d traveled all over the country and seen his share of mountain peaks and valleys, he appreciated the big Texas sky far better. The view was at times so open and unobstructed you’d swear the land went on forever. But it only seemed that way.
Jackson’s mind worked overtime with every passing mile.
There surely couldn’t be anything worse than informing Jackson that Eve would be the maid of honor while he’d be the best man. He’d received the news several months ago, and with time, digested the idea. Time to tuck in the anger and hostility, all he had left for Eve. He’d get over his damn self. There could be nothing worse than facing the woman who’d ripped his heart out and stomped all over it, humiliating him in front of a full church. Nothing worse than having to face her after eight years of struggling, and too many record deals that fell through. Nothing worse, other than maybe…
“Shit, Linc. What the hell’s wrong? What did Daisy do? Is it Mima? What are y’all keepin’ from me now?”
“Daisy’s fine. Still fixing engines down at Lou’s. Still got her eye on the rodeo cowboys.” Lincoln kept driving on the main highway headed south. “And Mima…well…she’s alright.”
Carver code for, “It was bad there for a while, cowboy, but we made it through.” In other words, Jackson heard a “but” coming. “But…?”
“She had a little…fall.”
Jackson pulled off his hat and shoved fingers through his hair. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“Said she’s fine, didn’t I? Stubborn woman tried to climb a ladder in her bedroom closet, determined to find something old for Sadie to wear in the wedding. Broke her arm in three places. She had surgery, and—”
“Surgery! Why didn’t you think to call me?”
“You were on tour.”
“My cell phone works all over the country, you know.”
Lincoln blew out an exasperated-sounding sigh. “Nothing you could do. Except worry. Spared you that, and now she’s fine. She’s recoverin’ at home, with some hired help to make sure she doesn’t try to overdo it.”
Jackson allowed his shoulders to unkink. “Smart. That’s…that’s good.”
“Glad you think so.” Linc cleared his throat. “Got her a great companion, and Mima loves her. She does now anyway.”
“Took a bit to grow on her, did she?” Jackson grinned.
The octogenarian did not “suffer fools,” or at least that was one of her favorite southwest sayings, of which she had an entire catalog.
“Somethin’ like that.”
“Let me know how much she’s charging, and I’ll help pay for it.” Jackson reclined his seat and settled in for the long drive. He might catch a wink or two since he hadn’t slept well on the plane. “Where am I stayin? The main house?”
“Yeah, if you don’t mind.”
Mima lived in the main ranch-style house on their land where she’d raised two generations of Carvers. Raised a son, watched a daughter-in-law walk away from her family, and subsequently helped raise another generation of Carvers. They’d lost Pop a few years ago.
Their father, Hank, resided in the smaller house up the hill near the lodge and Linc should know that Jackson would rather not stay with him. Hank still controlled most of the cattle operations, Lincoln his right-hand man.
“Why would I mind stayin’ at the main house?”
“You might after I tell you what I have to next.”
“Ah, there it is.” He did know his family. “What are you holding out?”
“I don’t want you to get upset.”
“Why would I get upset?” Every muscle in him tensed to the consistency of granite.
“Maybe because you got off that plane already lookin’ like you wanted to throttle someone.”
“Not true.”
“Look, I can’t help that Sadie and Eve have been best friends since high school. You should know better than anyone how close they are. How can I tell my future wife that she can’t have Eve as her maid of honor because it will royally piss off the best man?”
“Can’t. I got over it. I’ll deal.”
“You sure?”
“Got over Eve years ago.” He clasped his hands behind his neck. “After my joke of a marriage to Winona, I’m never even thinkin’ of settling down again.”
“Oh. Well. That’s good to hear,” Lincoln said with the hint of a smile. “I’m relieved.”
“Glad to relieve you.”
“Because it’s Eve been staying at the house for a few weeks now, taking care of Mima.”
At first, Jackson thought he’d heard wrong. But then the roar in his ears grew louder, brighter, taking up every empty space, taking up everything, and he realized he’d heard right.
Eve, who humiliated him by making him a laughingstock, living in his family home.
His.
Family.
Home.
“Tell me I heard wrong.” Jackson spoke between gritted teeth. “Tell me Eve isn’t staying at the house.”
“You said you’re over her.”
“That still doesn’t mean I want her living in my family’s home!”
“Shoot, she was the best person for the job.”
“Why? She’s a large animal veterinarian, not a nurse. We could have hired someone. A real nurse, hell, why not a doctor on call twenty-four seven? Only the best for Mima.”
“She’s got the best, far as she’s concerned. Mima loves her again, you know, after she got past all the, uh…the…” Lincoln struggled for words.
“The leaving her grandson at the altar shit?”
“Uh, yeah. That.” Lincoln had the decency to wince. “It was eight years ago.”
“Thanks, I’m fully aware of how long it’s been.”
“You haven’t been back home since then, so you don’t know what went on. Eve came back and eventually she and Mrs. Hollis’s niece took over her practice. But hell, apparently vet school is pretty damn expensive. Mima figured she’d give her free room and board, help her get back on her feet paying back some of those loans.”
“She’s got loans to pay off, then we can all pitch in and help. I don’t want her at the house while I’m there. Fire her, or I will.”
“Boy, you must have swallowed a bottle of crazy if you think Eve will take our charity.”
“Not mine, but she’ll take Mima’s?” Fire churned in Jackson’s gut.
Years traveling the country, playing in Nashville honky-tonks and wherever else he could book the band. Then getting that elusive recording contract, losing it, getting another one, also losing that one. Still he pulled himself up night after stinking night. He’d been a mess after Eve stood him up. Left town for Nashville the next day, and the rest was history. So was Eve. His very unpleasant history.
“That’s different. She’s paid for all she’s doing to help out around the house. Cookin’ for the ranch hands, all the stuff Mima used to do. She doesn’t get a salary. Wouldn’t take one. Just the room and board.”
“Why can’t she stay with Brenda? Doesn’t she still work for the Trueharts?”
After her father had left their family, Eve’s mother, Brenda, took work as a live-in maid and cook on the horse ranch that abutted the Double C Ranch. It would be a long walk and a short ride.
“Mima wouldn’t hear of it. That cottage is so small for the two of them and Eve hasn’t lived there for years. But Brenda’s over now and again, to help out and visit with Eve.”
“I’ll get a room at the Lone Star Old Motel.”
“Closed down two years ago.” Lincoln shook his head. “Went the way of the gym. We knew it wouldn’t last.”
Jackson cursed. He could stay with his father in the home up the hill and get to hear cattle talk all the livelong day and night. Hank Carver would no doubt take pleasure in reminding Jackson that he wasn’t just a Nashville cowboy but a real one. He’d then make his passive-aggressive jokes about what Jackson did for a living. No, thanks. It was rough enough to come back without much success to speak of, but another to have his father remind him daily that he’d made a mistake.
As Lincoln drove them into town, Jackson was treated to the town limits sign which hadn’t changed in years:
Welcome to Stone Ridge, established 1806 by Titus Ridge Population 5,010
*Women eat free every night at the Shady Grind*
Jackson chuckled. Yep. There was no town in the country quite like his hometown. Following the city limits signage was a newer-looking one that read:
*Women are especially welcome*
“This is getting ridiculous,” Jackson said as they passed the new signage.
“We passed ridiculous a long time ago. Beulah Hayes is trying to put together a good old-fashioned email-order bride service. Plus, you know, we got to plan for the future. Ever since we got engaged, Sadie’s mother has her drinking a concoction of garlic, spices, and pickled pig’s feet that’s supposed to favor her having a girl.”
“Yeah, that’s not ridiculous at all.”
Lincoln shrugged. “I’m good with a boy or a girl.”
“Wait. She’s not…?”
“Nah, we’re not pregnant. Just want to marry her.”
“Yeah? Why?”
“Why does anyone want to get married? I love that woman. I almost lost her because I didn’t notice her soon enough. I’d pretty much given up on ever getting’ married unless I met someone from out of town.”
“You can love a lot of people, women included. Doesn’t mean you have to marry any of them. Think about it.”
“Thought about it. Once I noticed Sadie, I couldn’t un-notice her. Know what I mean?”
“Yup. She got under your skin.”
He understood. At one time, he couldn’t have conceived of a life without Eve. Now he’d lived several years of a life without her and it worked. Mostly. It was hard to have a relationship on the road anyway. With plenty of women to pick from, he couldn’t discern whether a woman wanted him, or just had a hankering to be with a musician. He didn’t have room for a real relationship in his life. He’d been jilted once and divorced once. No, thanks.
Lincoln patted Jackson’s shoulder. “Take it easy. Two weeks is all. I’ll be married to Sadie and you can take off again. You’ll be in and out of here like a Texas windstorm.”
“Well, brother, that’s the plan.”