No Other Way: Sparks in Texas, book 4 Page 2

  Harley climbed out of her car and sucked in a deep breath of Texas’ humid air. While it wasn’t all that much different from the mugginess of Florida, to her, it felt unique. Special.

  This dusty old farm smelled like home, and she was so glad to be back.

  She glanced up when the screen door slammed, and she dropped the suitcase she’d just tugged out of the backseat. Sprinting toward the front porch, she launched herself into her beloved granddad’s arms.

  He was there—ready and waiting for her. He squeezed her just tight enough to take her breath away for a moment, and she soaked up his strength and the scent of his pipe tobacco. Granddad was seventy-five, but the man could easily pass for sixty. He was built like a bull, big, lean, and muscular. His head was completely bald, but given the fact he wore a big-ass Stetson 24/7, it was easy to forget that fact. Folks around town liked to joke that old Willie Mills probably slept in that big white hat of his.

  “There’s my girl. Damn, it’s good to have you home.”

  He released her and took a step back, studying her appearance. “You look good. Healthy. Happy.”

  She smiled. “I feel…a lot better. You were right to tell me to get away.”

  “I think my exact words were ‘Get the hell outta this town before it kills you.’”

  At the time, Harley hadn’t really wanted to go. Maris and this farm were all she’d ever known. Unlike her best friends, Caleb and Tyson, she hadn’t gone away to college, hadn’t ever seen much more of the world than the occasional treks to Dallas with her brother, Johnnie, to see medical specialists. “Aunt Ginny sends her love.”

  Harley had spent the past year with Granddad’s sister, Genevieve, in St. Pete Beach, Florida. She would be forever grateful to the kind woman for opening her home to her when she needed somewhere to escape. On top of that, Aunt Ginny had given her a job at a little boutique she owned on the strip. Twelve months of long walks on the beach, the atmosphere that of an eternal holiday, and the opportunity to disappear inside herself for a little while had healed so many wounds.

  Aunt Ginny would have let her stay forever. In fact, if she’d had her way, Harley would have moved in permanently and the store would have been her inheritance. Her beloved great aunt had thrown that little nugget out there to tempt her, but Harley had woken up two weeks ago and known it was time to come home.

  “Did you talk her into coming back for a visit?”

  Harley shook her head with a grin. Aunt Ginny and Granddad adored each other, but they were both as stubborn as the day was long. Granddad refused to leave the farm, claiming there was too much work to do, and Ginny insisted it would be the height of foolishness for her to travel to Texas on vacation when she had the ocean right outside her front door.

  “Nope, but she wanted me to pass along that open invitation to Florida again. Not that either one of us ever expect you to take a vacation.”

  Granddad gestured around at the farm. “Too much work to be done here.”

  “Not with me back now. We can split the duties in half.”

  Granddad rubbed his chin and glanced back toward the front door. “Yeah. About that, Harl—”

  “Harley?”

  Harley frowned when her dad walked out onto the front porch.

  “What are you doing here?” Her tone was far from friendly.

  Damn. She’d told herself she had the bitterness under control, but she also hadn’t expected to see her father walking out of her home, barefoot and drinking a glass of iced tea.

  “I…” Her dad stumbled in the face of her fury. She tried to batten it down, to put it away. That was why she’d left. So she could move away from the anger that consumed her.

  “He lives here.” Granddad supplied the answer, and Harley felt as if all the air had just been punched out of her.

  “What?”

  “Moved back in about eight months ago.”

  Harley was numb with shock. “But—”

  Her dad took a step closer. “I’m sober, Harley.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah. Because I haven’t heard those words a million times.”

  “Harley,” Granddad said gruffly.

  She turned to him. “Granddad, we’ve been here so many times before! I thought…” She tried to pull in a deep breath, but the air was suddenly too thick. It wasn’t just Harley who was hurt every time her dad fell off the wagon. Her granddad suffered as well. “It’s just—”

  Granddad’s stern expression softened a bit. “I’m gonna have to ask you to trust me on this one, baby girl.”

  Though she hated to admit it to herself, the fact that her dad was here sort of made the conversation she’d hoped to have with her granddad later a bit easier. She’d been struggling with a decision during the entire eighteen-hour drive from Florida. Part of the appeal of living in Florida was that for the first time in her life, she’d been out in the real world, on her own—more or less. After all, Aunt Ginny had a huge group of friends and was active in two book clubs, a knitting circle and took line-dancing classes two nights a week.

  Finding out that her dad was living and working on the farm made it easier for her to tell her grandfather she was thinking of looking for a roommate and moving into town.

  “Okay.” She would drop the discussion of her father’s so-called sobriety for now. She turned back toward her car. “I need to get my stuff.”

  “Need help?” her dad offered.

  “No,” she replied without looking at him. “I’ve got it.”

  Granddad sighed heavily, as if he were disappointed in her. The idea made her feel guilty and furious at the same time. No doubt her granddad had had some higher hopes for her homecoming. Problem was, he was way better at forgiveness—and second, third, fortieth chances—than she was.

  She retrieved the suitcase she’d dropped by the side of her car, slung her bathroom bag over her arm and grabbed her battered banjo case. There were several other boxes in the backseat, but they could wait until later.

  When she returned to the porch, her dad had gone back inside. Granddad reached out and cupped her cheek. “I missed you so damn much, kid.”

  She had missed him too. Missed this dusty old farmhouse, the light, lingering smell of manure and the perfect silence. She had adored the constant white noise of the waves crashing on the shore, but Harley enjoyed the quiet peace of this farm just as much.

  “I’ll put a pot of chili on for supper. And I’ll be sure to double the recipe,” Granddad said.

  She laughed. “I don’t eat that much.”

  “Not worrying about you. Figure those boys won’t wait five minutes to head out here when they realize you’re back.”

  Harley forced a smile, though there was a part of her that feared neither Caleb nor Tyson would show up. Not after the way she’d run. After all, it hadn’t just been Johnnie’s death or the shit at home she’d tried to escape. She’d left them as well.

  Told them she needed a clean break, which meant no phone calls, emails. Nothing. Radio silence for twelve months. It was the longest the three of them had ever gone without speaking to each other. She’d hated every minute of it, but she hadn’t reached out to them. And they hadn’t attempted to contact her either.

  Of course, she’d asked them not to. Even so, part of her thought maybe they’d find that request impossible and they’d go against their word. Not that she blamed them for remaining quiet. While they hadn’t separated on bad terms, they’d definitely parted on bizarre, OMG, WTF terms. It had taken her most of the year away to wrap her head around their last time together. To process what had happened and to try to figure out what came next.

  “I’m not so sure about that.”

  Granddad held the screen door open. “I am. Your room’s all ready for you. Clean sheets and all.”

  She thanked him, feeling slightly guilty as she watched him head for the kitchen. She wasn’t sure he’d like the idea of her moving out so soon after returning home.

  Looking around the front
foyer, she didn’t know where her father had gone. He’d probably found somewhere to hide. She was grateful he was keeping his distance and letting her get used to the idea he was here. For a split second, she let that kindness inspire hope, but experience had taught her to smother those embers before they turned to flame.

  She paused when she reached the foot of the stairs and glanced toward the closed door of the room on the right.

  Johnnie’s room.

  The constant ache that never really left her flared up a bit at the sight of that door, at the realization he wasn’t there anymore. If there was one thing she knew for certain, it was that Johnnie would not have wanted her to mourn him as long as she had.

  She missed him every second of every day, but she’d noticed more and more that when the memories returned, she could let them come without tears following. She had finally reached a place where she could think of her brother and smile. Once that corner was turned, she had known it was time to come home.

  Aunt Ginny had spent the better part of her time in Florida convincing Harley to move on, to live her life to the fullest, to have enough adventures for her and Johnnie both.

  Harley climbed the stairs, a spring in her step, as she considered taking her aunt’s advice. After so many years of standing still, she was pretty sure she wouldn’t mind an adventure or two. If only she could figure out how.

  As she entered her bedroom, Harley turned, taking in the lifetime of mementoes she had accumulated. She had lived in this house since she was born.

  She always imagined her life in two parts. There was the time before Johnnie’s accident, when she’d shared this house with her granddad, parents and brother. That was the hazy part, the one she struggled to remember.

  Then there was the time after. That part she remembered in all its painful clarity. She recalled her mother’s inability to deal with anything, her father’s dissent into the bottle, and the sound of Johnnie’s ventilator.

  Harley forced those memories away. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She’d spent too much time getting herself to a place where she could handle this. There would be no backtracking.

  Opening her suitcase, she debated returning her clothes to their usual drawers, and then closed the lid again. It was silly. She didn’t have anywhere else to go, but she knew it was time for her to leave the farm and find a place of her own in Maris. Unpacking felt fruitless, now that she had made her decision to live elsewhere. Of course, she didn’t fancy the idea of living out of a suitcase for however many weeks it took her to find a place, either. She was going to have to put her crap away. But that could wait until after dinner.

  She’d just finished placing some of her toiletries on the shelf in the bathroom, brushing her teeth and washing her face to freshen up, when her granddad called for her.

  “Dinner can’t be ready this quick,” she said as she walked to the top of the stairs.

  Granddad didn’t reply. Instead, he gave her a shit-eating grin as he gestured toward Caleb and Tyson, standing next to him.

  They looked more handsome than ever, and her heart leapt as she dashed down the steps and launched herself into Tyson’s arms. He was ready for her, hugging her tightly as they all laughed. When he released her, it was Caleb’s turn to welcome her home. He was a big, burly teddy bear of a man, and the second she was in his arms, he picked her up and spun her around until she was dizzy.

  “Put me down, you idiot! Let me look at you guys.”

  Caleb set her back on her feet and she took a step away. “Is that gray hair, Tyson?”

  He reached up and lightly touched his sideburns. “Seriously? That’s the first thing you notice? I’ve been hitting the gym like a champ.” He flexed his arm muscles. “Check out that gun show.”

  Caleb snorted. “Jesus. We’ve been in the house three seconds and you’re already showing off the fact you got one new little muscle. He’s been impossible to live with since that thing appeared. Now, if you want to see a gun show…”

  Tyson and Harley joked that Caleb had been born with muscles. It probably helped that he’d been helping out at his dad’s Feed and Seed since he’d learned to walk. Lugging around fifty-pound bags of oats and barley and big-ass hay bales had ensured Caleb was a walking, talking bulldozer of a man. All through middle school, they’d called him Thor until he’d put his foot down and told them he wasn’t going to be stuck with that nickname for life.

  In Maris, playful names had a tendency to stick, and that wasn’t always a good thing. As Stinky Matthews, Tiny Partlow and Rat Jenkins could attest to.

  “You boys never change,” her granddad said, slapping Tyson on the back. “Always trying to impress the girls. You staying for dinner? Got a pot of chili on the stove.”

  “And cornbread?” Caleb asked.

  Granddad scowled. “Is there any other way to eat chili?”

  Caleb rubbed his hands together with glee. “Damn. I’m glad you finally decided to get your ass home, Harl. I’ve missed your granddad’s cooking.”

  Harley raised her hand. “And there you have it, Granddad. The proof I’ve been looking for that confirms Ty and Cal are only friends with me because you feed them. Bit like encouraging stray cats to keep coming back.”

  Granddad shook his head. “I know better than that. You two bring your instruments?”

  “Would we show up here without them?” Tyson asked, imitating Granddad’s affronted tone after the cornbread question.

  Harley was delighted by his response. Not that she’d expected them to come here empty-handed. Of everything she’d missed while she was away—her bedroom, her granddad and her friends—the thing she’d missed most was making music with these guys.

  “Logan coming by later?” Granddad asked.

  Tyson shrugged. “To be honest, we didn’t call him. He’s…a bit preoccupied these days.”

  Harley tilted her head curiously. “Did he get back with Jane?” Logan had been dating his girlfriend, Jane, for several years, but they’d broken up shortly before Johnnie’s death. Harley had never felt like the match was a very good fit.

  “Nah. They’re still broken up,” Caleb replied.

  “Oh.” Harley gave them a wicked grin. “So he’s got himself a new girlfriend. Guess that means he’s spending all his time in the bedroom these days. He’s probably in all-out horn-dog mode after so many years with boring Jane. This poor new girl will be getting a workout…without the gym.”

  Caleb glanced at Tyson as he spoke. “Easy, Harley. Might not want to go too far with the sex jokes this time around.”

  Harley laughed. “Oh my God! For real? Which one of your cousins is he hooking up with?”

  Tyson scowled. “Lacy.”

  Her eyes widened. “And Evan hasn’t killed him yet?” Lacy’s brother, Evan, was part of Maris’ tiny police force, and very protective of his sister and female cousins.

  “He punched him once, but so far Logan is being a gentleman.”

  Harley tilted her head, but Tyson didn’t let her say what she was thinking. He didn’t have to. Logan might be a gentleman in public, but the guy played a little rougher in the bedroom, and they knew it.

  There were no secrets between any of them in the band. They’d formed Ty’s Collective their sophomore year in high school, becoming as close as siblings. Harley participated in their locker-room conversations as if she were one of the guys, which was how they had always treated her.

  None of them were shy about sharing the racier details of their affairs, and between the four of them, they’d all had their share of casual relationships and one-night stands.

  Even when Tyson and Caleb went off to college, whenever they were home on breaks, the four of them fell back together, picking up their instruments and playing as if they’d never been apart. The group was solid. Tight. The best of friends.

  Tyson crossed his arms, drawing her attention once again to the guns. The man wasn’t kidding. He had gotten into serious shape while she was away. “We don’t talk
about Logan’s sex life with my cousin.”

  She grinned wickedly. “That’s a shame. Knowing Logan, I bet there are some pretty racy, kinky, wild stories to—”

  The rest of her jest didn’t land, as Tyson grabbed her in a headlock and messed up her hair. She giggled as she tried to get loose. Horseplay had been a part of their friendship since they were kids. Harley kept thinking that eventually they’d get too old for such silliness, but that day hadn’t shown up yet.

  Granddad shook his head again at their antics. “I’ll let y’all catch up while I finish dinner. Make sure you figure out a day for a barn party. And make it soon. I’ve been missing those things.”

  “I just got home,” Harley called out to her granddad’s retreating back.

  Granddad didn’t bother to turn around as he walked into the kitchen. “Just do it.”

  Caleb wrapped his arm around Harley’s shoulders and walked with her to the living room as Tyson followed. “Not gonna lie. I like the idea of a barn party a lot.”

  She did too. They’d held a bunch of barn parties on her granddad’s farm over the years. So many that Granddad had actually built a second barn about ten years earlier that he used for farm work, leaving the stage and dance floor set up in the original one for their performances.

  Harley sank down on the couch. Caleb grabbed the other end, while Tyson took the chair next to her. “Maybe we should hammer out a few numbers to see if we can still play together.”

  Tyson shook his head. “We’ve taken hiatuses in the past and it’s never been a problem for us to start back up.”

  “Yeah, but we never took this much time off. Even when you guys were away at college, we made time to play over the breaks.” Harley regretted drawing attention to how long she’d been gone.

  “You’re back to stay, right?” Caleb asked. “No more running off?”

  She narrowed her eyes, pretending to be angry. “I wasn’t running.”

  Tyson, the most compassionate man on the planet, leaned closer and grasped her hand. “We know that,” he said, flashing Caleb a warning glance. “You needed time to mourn, to get yourself together.”

  Harley had known coming back would be rough. It was one of the reasons she’d put it off longer than she should have. After Johnnie died, she fell apart. Rather than deal with all the stuff piling up on her, she’d cut and run—with Granddad’s blessing.