A Texas Soldier's Family (12 page)

Garrett arched a brow. “Nor should we push or guilt my mother into doing something she doesn’t want to do anymore.”

Hope pushed on in a surprisingly empathetic voice. “That’s the thing. Lucille’s not really in any position to make a decision like this right now. There’s too much going on. Too many emotions. Too much shame and embarrassment.”

She paused to look into his eyes. “Your mom hasn’t had a chance to feel the accolades for what she has managed to do, for the last two years, the last week. There’s still a lot she
could
do, even if she doesn’t have anywhere near the financial resources.”

Hope had a point. There was no reason to rush into or out of anything. Not the family’s involvement with the foundation. Not his connection to Hope and Max, either.

“That’s why you asked Bess Monroe to come and talk about West Texas Warrior Assistance, isn’t it?”

“Yes, that’s right,” she said, nodding. “They need a lot more than what they have to meet their goals, but a little can still go a long way to get them started. It’s going to be good publicity for WTWA. And, when your mother sees the video clip, I think it might give her a fresh perspective on the goals yet to be achieved.”

“So she won’t quit. And you won’t have failed in your mission to save the foundation.”

“Right.”

“I still think it should be my mother’s decision. I’ll back up whatever she wants to happen.”

Hope studied him as though he was a test she just had to pass. “Even if it’s not what you want?” she asked finally.

Aware he’d been cut out of the loop in some bizarre way, and Hope hadn’t been, Garrett grimaced. “Even then.”

* * *

B
Y
THE
TIME
they’d finished eating, the last of Hope’s dwindling supply of energy had seeped from her body. And it was only six thirty in the evening. How was she ever going to make it to Max’s bedtime?

“You look tired,” Garrett said, ruffling the hair on the top of her head.

She leveled him with a look. “Thanks.”

He smiled at the sarcasm dripping from her voice. He wrapped his arm about her waist as he walked her to the curb, where her SUV sat parked behind his truck. “Why don’t you let me drive you back to the ranch?”

Resisting the urge to curl up against him and take a good long nap, Hope fished the list and keys out of her bag. Now was not the time to lean on her military man. “Can’t. I have to stop at the grocery store to get stuff for Sage to cook for the film crew and reporter tomorrow.”

Garrett read over her shoulder. Swore at the lengthy and, in some cases, rather complicated ingredients.

Hope gestured aimlessly. “She’s a chef.”

“She’s impossible.”

Hope made a face. “I’ll tell Sage you said so.”

Garrett tweaked Hope’s nose. “She already knows. I’ll help you get the supplies. “

“I’d appreciate that. Bess said she could stay as late as nine o’clock, but I’m anxious to get home to Max.”

By the time they hit the checkout line, Hope was yawning.

Garrett pushed the basket full of groceries out to her SUV.

He gave her another long, assessing look. She lifted a palm. “Not to worry. I may not be able to have coffee, but I can have a cup of ice chips. Chewing on those while I drive will keep me alert just as well.”

With a frown, he headed for the Dairy Barn next door. “I’ll get it for you.”

Hope stifled another yawn. “You are a prince among princes,” she called after him.

He turned and flashed her a sexy grin. The kind that said he’d accept payment for his kindness later.

With an amused shake of her head, she climbed behind the wheel, let her head fall forward onto the wheel and closed her eyes, just for a minute. It had been a mistake to spend time making love with Garrett the night before instead of using all available hours to sleep.

She could have gotten four hours of rest instead of just two. But she had wanted to be with him, so she had been. Besides, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t gotten by on even less sleep in times prior, when working in crisis mode.

It was only a few more days and then the scandal would be winding down. And then she’d be able to sleep as much as she wanted, she thought, as darkness descended around her.

Chapter Twelve

“Please stop asking me that. Everything is
fine
,” Hope insisted agitatedly, for the third time, twenty minutes later.

Except clearly it wasn’t, Garrett thought, as he drove them back to the ranch. “Are you angry because I woke you up?”

“Of course not.” Resting her elbow on the SUV window, she shaded her eyes with her hand. “I couldn’t just continue to sleep in a grocery store parking lot. Not when I have Max waiting and so much work to do.”

He got that she was frustrated and embarrassed. But why unleash those emotions on him? Unless she somehow blamed him, too. For predicting she might doze off behind the steering wheel? For being there to protect her? For making love with her when she should have been bypassing their budding relationship and working, in her view?

And it
was
a relationship, even if she wouldn’t yet admit it.

Still trying to coax a smile out of her, he teased. “Even if there had been a way to move you out of the driver’s seat without rousing you, I’m not so sure it would have been good ‘optics,’ me lifting a quietly snoring woman out of one area of the car and stowing her in another.”

Hope turned to him in sharply waning forbearance.

Irked to find them so completely out of sync, he surrendered. “Okay. Bad joke. You weren’t snoring, loudly or otherwise. But...” Maybe it was better they get her emotions out in the open. Let whatever was bothering her surface, so they could deal with it. Together. He slanted her a deliberately provoking glance. “You do agree you were in no condition to drive?”

Hope shook another ice chip into her mouth. “You were right, okay?” she snapped finally. “I was too tired. I screwed up. And you win. Okay?”

No, it wasn’t okay, he thought, as she continued staring out at the pastures dotted with cattle and horses, and the occasional goats or alpacas. And it hadn’t been about winning. Or losing. Just safety. Pure and simple. That, and maybe his overwhelming need to take care of her. A need she now seemed to reject.

This, after accepting his assistance for days now, however and whenever she needed it. Garrett wondered if sleep would help. “You can close your eyes, if you want,” he said softly.

She turned and gave him another long-suffering look that made him want to take her in his arms, hold her close and kiss her until her unprecedentedly grumpy mood passed. Her patience clearly at an end, she shook her head in silent remonstration. She sighed, pulled out her phone and punched in a number.

Maybe it was post-pregnancy hormones.

Knowing better than to suggest that, however, he paused at an unmarked intersection then turned onto the country road that led to the Circle H.

Listening, Hope smiled. “Hey, Lucille,” she said with a sudden burst of cheerful energy. “We’re almost there...Yes! As soon as I arrive. How’s Max?” Hope listened some more, smiled again, then ended the call.

Maybe that was it.

Maybe she just missed her little boy.

To his knowledge, except for the first day they’d met, this was the first time she had been away from Max in a week. He could see where that would upset her.

After spending most of the day away, he missed the little tyke, too.

A minute later, he turned into the lane and drove up to the Circle H bunkhouse. His brothers had already left for their own ranches, to see to their herds. Inside, his mother, sister and Bess Monroe waited.

Hope said hello, then headed down the hallway. “Just let me peek in on Max...”

“He is such a sweet boy,” Lucille said, her yearning for grandchildren of her own more evident than usual. Hope tiptoed back out. She went over to give Bess Monroe a hug. “I can’t thank you enough.”

Bess beamed. “My pleasure. Besides, I owe you for all those great ideas about how to get the WTWA message out there so we can ramp up the fund-raising.”

“Let me know if I can do anything else.” Hope encouraged, walking Bess out. The two women stood talking for a moment. Hope returned to the house while Bess drove away.

“You helped Bess, too?” Garrett asked. The last time he had seen Bess, she’d still been pretty frustrated with the whole situation. Now, thanks to whatever Hope had done, she seemed optimistic about the organization’s fate.

Hope nodded. “It’s a really good cause. I’m going to help them in any way I can.”

“The foundation will, too,” Lucille said.

Garrett glanced at his mother. “I thought you were closing the foundation, as of tomorrow.”

Looking simultaneously bone weary and amazingly strong of will, Lucille waved off the suggestion. “Hope and Sage both helped me see that was simply a reaction to all that’s occurred. Of course we’re going to keep the foundation going,” she said stubbornly.

All three women exchanged smiles.

Garrett suddenly felt as excluded as if he had wandered into a No Boys Allowed club.

Hope gestured toward the table. “Ready to see what we’ve done?” she asked Lucille.

His mother gave a little smile, even though she was as pale with fatigue as Hope and Sage were.

This was ludicrous, Garrett fumed. It was nearly nine thirty. Everyone there had been going nonstop for days now. Hope and his mother, in particular, both had deep shadows under their eyes and looked like they were about to keel over. Someone had to save them from themselves.

“This can wait until tomorrow,” Garrett said firmly. He pointed to Hope and his mom. “You two both need to go to bed.”

Both women looked at him as if they had no idea who he was. And did not want to know.

“Tell me you did not just say that,” Hope muttered.

As the head of the family and the man who cared deeply about all the women in the room, he stood his ground. “Sleep deprivation causes all sorts of serious health issues.”

Sage was amused. And apparently amenable to reason. His mother and Hope were not.

He tried again. “If you won’t listen to me as your son—” he stared down Lucille, who stood in solidarity with Hope “—or your...” He paused, looking at Hope. She lifted a brow, practically daring him to go on.

No way was he falling into that minefield of trying to put a label on what they had, when what they had was—at Hope’s insistence—completely private. At least for now.

Once the scandal was resolved, he would see about that, too.

He shoved both his hands through his hair, aware he had never felt so aggravated. “Listen to me, ladies—
as a physician
, then. Left untreated, sleep deprivation can wreck havoc with every system in the body...”

Lucille interrupted, before he could go on in harrowing detail, “So can the stress and tension of important work left undone.”

He blinked at his mother. Who was this woman who had been Go Along to Get Along his whole life?

Garrett turned back to Hope, who seemed to be the only person in the room Lucille was listening to at the moment. “Help me make her see reason,” he gritted out.

To his surprise, Hope shook her head. Just as quietly defiant as his mother, she looked him in the eye. She retorted, “You’re the one out of line here. So maybe it’s you, Garrett, who needs to go bed.”

* * *

P
RIVATELY
, H
OPE
KNEW
Lucille was exhausted to her bones. She also knew the impossibly generous matriarch would spend another night, lying awake, worrying, if she did not see how much progress had been made remaking the foundation’s image while she had been off making good on the financial promises of the Lockhart Foundation.

So, ignoring Garrett’s fierce disapproval, she led Lucille and Sage over to the long plank table and sat down side by side with them in front of her laptop.

Hope pulled up the history of the ranch. The video montage and voice-over had been set to an orchestral arrangement of one of Lucille’s favorite songs, “The House that Built Me.”

Lucille put her hand over her heart, as the old black-and-white photos of the Circle H and of her childhood appeared on-screen. She caught her breath at the sight of the flags of Texas and the United States. Eyes glistening, she confessed emotionally, “When I got here tonight, and I saw the flags on the porch, the way they used to be when I was growing up, I was so happy I nearly burst into tears.”

Hope smiled. There was no doubt from the photos she’d seen, and the stories she’d heard, that the Hendersons of Laramie County had been a very patriotic family. “I noticed them in the photos.”

Lucille pointed to the bunkhouse, as it had been, years prior. “This photo was taken when my parents and I still lived here, instead of in the ranch house that was built later. Once we moved into that house, Dad hung our flags there.” She shook her head. “It always meant so much to us. Dad being former military and all.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Hope saw Garrett’s look of chagrin, followed swiftly by apology. And on top of that, regret that he’d never noticed what she, as an outsider, had quickly seen.

Hope went through the rest of the video history, showing Lucille and Frank’s humble beginnings, his business success, their rise in Dallas society and the start of the family’s charitable foundation.

“We’re going to use that to show how this all began.”

“It’s perfect, Hope. So much better than what has been in the press.”

They still had work to be done.

“I’d still like to rehearse the Q&A, but if you’re amenable, we can wait until tomorrow morning to do that,” she said.

Lucille nodded. “You’re right. We’re all exhausted.”

Abruptly, Max let out a cry signaling he was waking and needed to be fed. Hope smiled. “If you-all will excuse me...”

She stayed in her guest room to nurse. When she emerged forty-five minutes later to dispose of a soiled diaper, no one was up but Garrett. He followed her outside to the garbage cans. “I owe you an apology.”

Hope stood for a moment, admiring the warm summer breeze and the deep black sky overhead. A full moon shone down upon them. “I misunderstood about the flags.”

She pivoted to face him. “Obviously.”

He continued soberly, “And I probably shouldn’t tell you what to do.”

She arched her brow. “You definitely should not tell me what to do,” she reiterated as warmth spiraled inside her.

His expression gentled. “You worried me.”

Hope sighed and met his eyes. “I worried myself,” she admitted. “I’ve never done that, fallen asleep at the wheel.”

He laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “The car wasn’t on.”

“Still.” She bit her lip. “If you hadn’t gone to get ice...” The tears she’d been holding back clogged her throat. She drew another deep breath and tilted her face to his. “What would happen to Max if something happens to me?”

The next thing she knew, Garrett’s arms were around her. He pulled her against his solid warmth.

“Nothing is going to happen to you,” he told her gruffly.

With him there, beside her, she could believe it.

The problem was, he wasn’t always going to be there to protect her, and/or Max. And when that day came...

More tears flowed down her face.

“It’s okay,” he soothed, holding her close. “I’m here.”

And he stayed with her, until she caught her breath and and turned her face up to his. As grateful for his assistance as she was embarrassed over her own shortcomings.

Tenderness radiated in his gaze. “What else do you need?” he asked her softly.

Hope gulped, still too shaken up and too worn out to censor herself. “For you to hold me,” she whispered, as a new wave of emotion swept over her.

“That, I can do,” Garrett promised, wrapping his strong arms around her.

Holding her close.

Until she finally accepted his wordless urging and got into bed. He climbed in beside her, curling his big body around hers, protecting her as she drifted into a deep, much-needed sleep.

* * *

G
ARRETT
WOKE
JUST
after six the next morning. He reached for Hope, but to his disappointment found the bed beside him was empty. The bunkhouse was exceptionally quiet. He found Hope sitting on the back porch, still in the clothes she’d had on the night before. She was seated on the glider, Max in one arm, bottle feeding him.

She cast him a beleaguered glance. “Don’t start. My milk supply is low.”

He moved toward them. “I wasn’t going to say anything.” Even though they both knew she needed more sleep than she was getting. Or had been getting for the past week.

“Good.” She turned her attention to the sun rising in the east. A warm breeze ruffled her mussed, golden hair. Like last night, she was near tears. Mostly, he figured, of fatigue. “Because it wouldn’t have been well received.”

And with good reason, he thought. Hope was definitely still highly irascible and incredibly beautiful, despite the dusky shadows beneath her eyes.

Aware she seemed as fragile emotionally now as she had on the ride back from town the previous night, Garrett moved the stack of black-and-white photos and résumés she had spread out on the cushion beside her. He sat down. Max immediately propped a sleeper-clad foot on Garrett’s forearm and stopped drinking from his bottle long enough to make flirty eyes and smile.

Affection flowing through him, Garrett smiled back.

Max resumed sucking down his breakfast, his innocent blue gaze moving from Garrett to Hope and back again.

“So what are you doing?” Garrett indicated the photos printed off her email.

“Looking for my new nanny. The agency is trying to pair me with a replacement for Mary Whiting.”

“She isn’t coming back at all?” This was bad news.

Hope released a shaky breath. “Her mother needs her, so she is taking a part-time position close by.”

Garrett fanned through the applicants, trying to find the bright side. “All of them look nice.”

Hope sighed. “Not to mention impossibly well trained. British nanny academies are the best.”

“Then...?”

Hope’s lip took on a troubled curve. “Something could happen to the next baby nurse—or her family—too. I don’t want Max getting attached to a series of people. And his stranger-danger phase is coming.”