Chapter Sixteen
Every morning, for the last few weeks, Alice felt like pinching herself.
She’d gone from a tired widow dealing with criminals, financial threats, deferred maintenance, downed fences, and restoring line shacks, to functionality.
Now, they had recovered enough money to repay the loans, and start work on Carson and Jess’s house.
Their new home would be close enough to visit, far enough for privacy.
But the biggest change had been Clint. He’d gone from a reliable hand, to a trusted friend and foreman, to her anchor.
When Charlie died, it never occurred to Alice that she would ever love or want again. She’d lost her best friend and confidant of over thirty years and couldn’t fathom anyone ever filling those treasured shoes. Then, just like that, she couldn’t imagine her life without Clint in it.
The coffee was on, the eggs were in the warming oven, and she was in the process of turning the bacon as Cassie came down the stairs. “Oh, that coffee never smelled so good.”
“Toast?”
“I’ll fix it.” Breathing in the coffee aroma as if it were smelling salts, Cassie smiled and opened the bag of bread.
Footsteps smacked against the wooden stairs. Carson appearing a moment later.
“You’re up awfully early.” Now that they had a full staff of hired hands, her kids no longer had to suffer through two jobs, though Cassie liked working the ranch and opted to learn everything she could rather than going back to school—at least for now.
Standing at the beloved coffee pot, he nodded. “Filling in for the coach this morning. Early practice. Too early if you ask me.”
The back door eased open and Clint came inside. Hanging his hat on the hook and stomping his boots on the mat, his entire stance was relaxed and easy. “Morning’”
Without asking, Carson filled another mug and handed it to Clint. By now they all knew he drank it black no sugar.
“Thanks.” Smiling at Alice, the warmth in his eyes gave her goose bumps as though she were a teen being noticed by the captain of the football team.
Within minutes, everyone was seated at the table, food overflowing, conversation easy. There was no longer foreman and employers but ranchers with the same goal—uplifting the Sweet Ranch.
“I got a call from Sean Farraday last night.”
“Really?” Alice took a sip of her juice. “What was he wanting?”
“An update on Ray. I told him that the district attorney assured us there isn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that he’s going to walk away from this. Same for the two idiots we caught with him.”
“Sounds like all the culprits are now where they belong.” Carson stabbed at his eggs. “Behind bars.”
“For a good long time,” Cassie said with a satisfied grin. The woman hadn’t been a Sweet family member for long, but she had family loyalty running in every vein of her body.
“As you know, his son Connor owns one of the best horse breeding ranches in the country.”
Alice nodded.
“It reminded me of something Preston said not long ago.” He set his gaze on Alice. “Charlie used to talk about breeding horses.”
“That’s right. I think after he updated the barns and all the other bases for the ranch, he wanted to expand.”
Clint toyed with his eggs. “I think we’re in a place where we can do that. What Charlie planned. If you’d like.”
If she didn’t already know that she loved Clint Gibbons, she would have figured it out right about now. The man was amazing. Honoring Charlie, loving her, caring for this ranch as if he too had been born to it. And never ever overstepping.
“I think it’s a great idea. If you’re sure, we can handle it.”
He nodded, turned to Carson. “And you.”
“I’m all for it.” Carson pushed away from the table. “I have to run. You guys let me know when we start the horse business.”
Another few minutes of finishing up breakfast and Clint and Alice were the only two left in the kitchen.
Even though it wasn’t his job in any way shape or form, they had fallen into a routine.
Clint joined them every day for meals, and when the family scattered after breakfast, they cleaned the kitchen together.
She’d washed and he dried the large pans she didn’t like putting in the dishwasher, the whole time wondering if she’d overstepped her limits, if she’d gone too far in her surprise.
Shortly after Ray was in custody, Brooklyn had reached out to them again.
One of his people had tracked down the neighbors on the opposite side of Clint’s former house, Mr. and Mrs. Jerry Baxter, and learned that a black truck had been parked in front of the house most of the day.
Coming and going. Mrs. Baxter had actually written down the license plate just in case any of the neighbors turned up burglarized.
When Clint asked if she’d told the police, Brooklyn had sighed heavily, telling them that she didn’t report it. And when asked why, she easily said, they didn’t ask me.
It took Alice a long while and two glasses of wine to get over her fury at the woman’s nonchalance.
Her neighbor’s home burned to the ground and the owner accused of murder and it never dawned on her to report what she’d seen.
It had also helped appease her fury when Brooklyn explained that because of this, they were able to confirm their suspicions.
The people his neighbor owed money to had indeed burned down the wrong house.
Soon Clint would be officially cleared, and a nice fat check was coming his way for wrongful imprisonment.
Not that it could come close to undoing the mess it had made of his life and relationship with his son.
She’d tried to talk Clint into calling Jason, but he’d shake his head and say not yet, he needs time to adjust, to decide if he wants me in his life again.
Dutifully, she said nothing more. It struck her that perhaps they were both going to need time.
Until she got the call. It was Jillian. She’d driven to Midland to meet the plane. ETA five minutes.
Five more minutes and she’d either be on top of the world or in the dog house and she had no idea which of the two it would be.
“Something wrong?” Clint continued to wipe the pans dry.
“No, not at all.” Her smile was as beautiful as ever, but shaky. Heaving a deep sigh, she turned off the water and turned, leaning a hip against the counter. “I did something and now I’m not sure it was the right thing to do.”
Still drying a pan that was already dry, he nodded. “Does this something have anything to do with me?”
She nodded.
His heart suddenly felt like it had been placed in a vise.
At first, it had been hard for him to accept that life could be so good for him.
That Alice was his and that they had a future.
Now, all of this new world had begun to feel very normal to him.
None of her kids seemed to mind. As a matter of fact, they all seemed to like him well enough.
None of the hired hands knew anything different than he and Alice had become a team, but now, those words I’m not sure I did the right thing had his insides twisting painfully. “Want to tell me about it?”
The one thing he’d come to appreciate more than he expected was how they talked over everything.
It was so very different than his relationship with his late wife.
As far as he knew, so far they had no secrets from each other.
Hell, she knew the worst of his. And frankly, he doubted she ever had a real secret in her life, but still, he thought he knew everything about her.
The sound of tires crunching gravel carried through the house and Alice straightened her shoulders. “I’m afraid I’m out of time. I should have told you. I’m sorry. Remember that.” She pushed away from the sink and strode across the living room to open the door.
What the heck was going on? Jillian was first in the door. She gave her mom a hug and a smile and a short nod. At least to Jillian, whatever this surprise was, it wasn’t a bad thing.
The next person through the door was a tall young man, broad-shouldered, in khakis and a button-down shirt with dark leather loafers. A city dude. “Mrs. Sweet, thank you for having me.”
“Please call me Alice.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Alice chuckled. At least whoever the guy was, he had manners.
It took another second for the visitor to step aside and fully face Clint.
In that one single moment, he knew. The face of a scared little boy flashed before his eyes.
Only now that face was a polite grown man who looked just as nervous as Clint suddenly felt.
Alice came out from behind Jason. “Come sit.” She waved him toward the living room sofa, but the kid didn’t move.
His gaze was fixed on Clint. “Well, then.” Alice moved toward Clint, stopping in front of him, her hand resting on his forearm.
“Brooklyn called me yesterday, said he’d explained everything to Jason.
Told me he wanted to see you. I overstepped and said that would be great.
I got a text last night that he was arriving in Midland on the red-eye. I guess he didn’t want to wait.”
Forcing himself to look away from his son, he looked into Alice’s eyes, eyes filled with fear, and made himself smile.
“I was afraid if I told you that you would just worry yourself all night and probably not sleep.”
Now he chuckled. “So instead, you worried yourself all night and didn’t sleep.”
Her smile reappeared. “Something like that. I’ll go make tea.”
Jillian followed her mother into the kitchen and Clint cautiously moved closer to his son. “It’s good to see you.”
Jason didn’t move. “I wasn’t sure you’d want me to come.”
“What?” Clint blinked, fear overshadowed by confusion. “Not want you?”
That scared little boy reared his head and Jason glanced at the floor before returning his attention to his father. “I should have believed you. I should have known.”
Shaking his head, Clint closed the gap and instinctively pulled his son into his arms. “It’s not your fault. The evidence was heavy. You were just a little boy.”
“Still.” His arms tightened around Clint. “I’m so sorry, Dad.”
Dad. He never thought he’d hear that word again. “It’s okay. Really. I’m the one who’s sorry I couldn’t be there for you all these years. I’m sorry I couldn’t make your mother happy. Sorry I moved us next door to that idiot neighbor. Sorry for so many things.”
The two hung onto each other for a long few minutes before Clint finally eased back. “Have you eaten?”
Jason shook his head.
“I just happen to know the best cook in West Texas and I bet I can get her to rustle you up something delicious to eat.”
From the kitchen, Alice shouted over her shoulder. “I’m already on it. Come in here and take a seat.” She waved a spatula at them. “And I want to hear all about your life.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jason smiled.
His arm draped around his son’s shoulder, they walked into the kitchen. What had he ever done to deserve Alice Sweet?