Lone Star Father

“Nope. I’m thirty-two.” He studied the twins. “I can’t tell you apart.”

“That’s ʼcause we look alike,” Tyler said.

Scarlett laughed. “You can tell them apart by remembering that Tommy asks a lot of questions and Tyler’s favorite hobby is reading.”

“Do you got more kids?” Tommy asked.

“No. Just my daughter, Jessie.”

Tommy wrinkled his nose. “She’s a girl.”

Reid’s mouth flirted with a smile and Scarlett was mesmerized by the twinkle in his blue eyes. “Jessie’s a girl all right.”

“Is Fang a boy dog?” Tommy asked.

Reid nodded.

“Okay, enough questions.” Sadie pointed across the room. “Pick out a book and read while we wait for Jessie.”

Tyler walked over to the refurbished post office mailbox compartments and opened one of the doors. He removed a children’s book from the slot, then climbed into a chair. Tommy sat next to his brother and listened to him read.

“When does Virginia take over for you?” Sadie asked Scarlett.

“Not until eight but Gunner said she usually shows up early.” Scarlett turned to Reid. “Virginia lives across the street from our aunt.”

Sadie laughed. “She’s what Aunt Amelia calls a colorful character.”

“Colorful is right,” Scarlett said. “Virginia is pushing sixty, but dresses like a twenty-year-old.”

Reid reached for the door handle. “Jessie’s got my number in her cell phone if you need to get ahold of me.”

“Before you go,” Sadie said. “I have a message for you from Logan. Your brothers would like you to meet them at the Saddle Up Saloon at noon.”

“Sure. Where should I pick up Jessie later?”

Sadie waved a hand. “Come out to the ranch. Jessie will enjoy helping the boys feed the petting-zoo animals.”

“See you later then.”

As soon as the door closed behind him, Sadie said, “He couldn’t escape fast enough.”

Scarlett watched Reid cross the parking lot. “I’d love to be a mouse in the bar when the Hardell brothers meet later.”

“Let’s make a list of party supplies while we wait for Virginia to arrive.”

Scarlett retrieved a notepad and a pen from the desk drawer, eager to hear how Sadie planned to decorate for both the baby and the black sheep’s homecoming.

* * *

REID PARKED THE pickup behind the old Woolworth building in downtown Stampede. It was five minutes before noon and his gut was tied into a pretzel knot.

The Hardell family reunion would be a far cry from a Hallmark movie scene. He’d be lucky if he escaped the gathering with his surname intact.

He got out of the truck and strolled along the town’s main thoroughfare—Chuck Wagon Drive. A handful of brick buildings dated back to the late 1800s and early 1900s. The feed store had closed its doors and boarded over the windows before Reid had graduated from high school. He could barely make out the words For Sale that had been spray-painted on the side of the building decades ago.

His gaze swung across the street. The old Amoco filling station had been converted into a farmer’s market. A pickup was parked in the lot, its truck bed piled high with produce. Next to the station sat the Corner Market. When he was a kid, his grandfather would drop him and his brothers off at the store to buy candy.

He continued up the next block. The town looked depressed. Tired. The white bench that had always sat in front of the National Bank and Trust was missing and weeds grew through the cracks in the sidewalk near the door. On the other side of the street the shadows of the missing letters in the Bucket of Suds Coin-Operated Laundry sign remained visible against the gray cinder block.

From the few texts he’d exchanged with his brothers over the last year he knew his grandfather was trying to sabotage Amelia’s efforts to restore the town—he just didn’t know why. He agreed with the matriarch that the place needed a face-lift. If she wanted to dump her millions into Stampede, why should his grandfather care?

Reid put the brakes on and backpedaled to Millie’s Antiques & Resale—or what used to be the business. The old rocker that had sat in the display window for decades had been replaced with an industrial-style desk and a hanging light made from plumbing pipes and old-fashioned Edison light bulbs. Lydia’s Interior Design was etched into the window glass.

Gunner hadn’t told him that his wife had opened a business in town. The canary yellow door and red flowerpots overflowing with white and purple pansies was the lone bright spot among the dreary buildings on the block.

Reid reached the Saddle Up Saloon and drew in a steadying breath. Then another. And another. But no amount of oxygen would clear his thinking enough to fabricate a reasonable excuse for ignoring his family all these years.

He entered the building, pausing inside the door to allow his eyes to adjust to the dim interior. He looked toward the bar expecting to see his brothers parked on the stools, but the seats were empty.

Reid recognized the bartender dusting off liquor bottles. JB’s ponytail was longer and mostly gray now. He wore a beige T-shirt with a picture of a saddle on the back and the bar name printed in bold, black letters. When JB recognized Reid, the corner of his mouth lifted in greeting, then he tilted his head toward a table in the back corner where his siblings and his grandfather had gathered.

Reid approached the group and waited for an invite to join them. His grandfather nodded and Reid pulled out a chair and sat. JB placed a bottle of beer in front of Reid, then refilled his grandfather’s coffee cup before returning behind the bar.

He might as well get the tongue-lashing over with. Staring at his older brother he said, “Give me your best shot.”

Logan didn’t hesitate. “You’ve treated us like lepers for years. Don’t think you can waltz back into the family as if you never left.”

“I doubt you missed me that much,” Reid muttered.

Logan’s eyes widened.

“I’m no saint.” Gunner spoke up. “I’ve done my share of letting everyone down, but I’ve never deserted the family.” He pointed to their grandfather. “Gramps took care of us when our parents didn’t. He deserved better from you.”

Reid stared at his grandfather and braced himself.

“Did I do something or say something to make you believe you weren’t part of this family?”

Reid clenched his jaw and looked away from the sadness in the old man’s eyes. “I’d rather not talk about the past.” What good would it do to list his grievances? Donny Hardell was dead and his brothers had moved on. Why couldn’t he?

“Why’d you come home?” Gunner asked.

Tell them the truth. “I didn’t know where else to go for help.”

“You having some kind of early-life crisis, boy?” Gramps asked.

Reid pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. Despite his belief that his brothers could have done more to protect him from their father’s verbal abuse, he’d missed his grandfather’s cantankerous personality. “If you consider instant fatherhood an early-life crisis, then yes, I’m having one.”

Gunner looked at Logan, then back at Reid. “What do you mean, ‘instant fatherhood’?”