Page 1 of Sweet Beginnings (Honeysuckle, Texas #1)

Preston Sweet slammed the door of his SUV and slipped his keys into his pocket.

Unlike his apartment in town, the front door of the Sweet Ranch was never locked.

From the near empty drive, it looked like only his brother Carson had beat him home.

Every Sunday the driveway would be filled with cars.

Tonight would be the first time the house would be bursting with Sweets on a weeknight for no other reason than his mom had called and asked.

The sound of spitting gravel cut off his thoughts. Even with the dust cloud blowing in the thick summer air, preventing a clear view of the approaching car, he knew the driver had to be Rachel. His sister was the only person in the family who considered every open road a NASCAR track.

The car came to a screeching halt within a few feet of him, though it felt like inches. She probably should have moved to Hollywood and been a stunt car driver. “Cutting it pretty close, don’t you think?”

Rachel yanked her overnight bag from the back seat and shook her head at her brother. “Nah. I had plenty of room.”

Even though he had just seen her a couple of weeks ago, he scooped her into a warm hug as though it had been forever ago.

“Any idea what this is all about?” she mumbled into his shoulder. The same underlying tinge of tension he’d felt since his mom’s cryptic call could be felt in Rachel’s embrace.

He shook his head and eased back. “I can’t decide if Mom announcing she’s getting married would be best-case scenario or worst-case scenario.”

Like a shot, Rachel sprang back. “Mom’s getting married? I thought you didn’t know what this is all about.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He shook his head more forcefully.

“I was simply wondering what could be so important that she would call all of us and tell us she needed us home. Now . Then it hit me a wedding would be something seriously important. Especially if it was our mother getting married again. Once my mind wandered that far, then I couldn’t decide if that would be a relief or the beginning of some new kind of hell. ”

“She’s not even dating.” Rachel smacked him lightly on the arm and growled her frustration with her big brother. “Why would you even go there?”

“Because the other option was she’s dying and I don’t want to go there— ever .”

On a heavy sigh, Rachel nodded. “That would certainly make getting hitched more appealing.”

He reached for her bag. “Did you ever think about it?”

“Mom getting married again?”

Moving forward, he bobbed his head.

“Nope.” She fell into step beside him. “I just can’t picture anyone with Mom except Dad.”

“Know what you mean, but still, it has to be pretty lonely some days in this big old house.”

“Yeah.” She stopped at the porch steps and looked up at the expanse of the beloved two-story stone and log home that had grown through the generations to house the Sweet family for well over two hundred years. “But for now, I don’t think this is it.”

“I hope not. I’m not ready to think about Mom remarrying.

Some day, but not yet.” Preston held the door open for his sister, the way his dad had drummed into all their heads since they were old enough to walk.

“And the more I think about this call, the more I’m sure whatever it is, I’m not going to like it either. ”

“Any word from Garret?” Rachel strolled past him.

“No, and I didn’t expect to hear back from our nature-loving brother. He warned us there’s no cell service where he and his buddies are camping in Idaho.”

“I know.” His sister shrugged. “I just thought, sometimes with technology you never know.”

Despite the massive appearance from the outside of the home, the inside was cozy, welcoming with large upholstered furniture that created a comfy seating area with a great view of the expansive property, and quiet. Too quiet.

Rachel paused mid-stride. “I’m surprised Mom isn’t here waiting for us.”

The same thing had crossed Preston’s mind.

For as long as he could remember, since the day he’d left home for college, the minute his mom heard the rumble of his engine, she was out the door and on the porch waving frantically at him.

As a matter of fact, now that he thought about it, everything inside and out seemed unusually quiet.

“Maybe she’s helping the ranch hands with something. This is around vaccine time before the big sales.”

“Maybe.” Without being given direction, he led his sister down the hall to the room she’d shared with her twin Jillian, and dropped the bag on the bed. “I’m going to see if I can find Carson and Mom.”

“I saw a light on in the study.” Rachel unzipped her bag. “I’m going to take a minute and unpack.”

“Don’t you usually pack a lot less?”

She shrugged. “Since I’m mostly working from home, I figured no harm in planning to stay a few extra days.”

The thought to pack a bag and turn a midweek supper into a very long weekend had occurred to him as well, but then he decided that first, he had enough clothing still at the house to last him a month, and second, showing up for an extended stay might fall in the camp of overreacting to a simple call for a family dinner in the middle of the week. “That’ll make Mom happy.”

His sister flashed a huge toothy grin. “I know.”

“Women,” he muttered, laughing to himself. After four boys, and nothing but male cousins, the birth of twin girls had been a delightful surprise. That kid and his other sister had everyone in the family wrapped around their fingers from the day they were born, and he doubted that would ever change.

Retreating down the hall, he turned into his father’s domain.

Charles Sweet’s study hadn’t changed much since the days when Preston and his siblings had trotted around on wooden pony sticks with makeshift lassos and pretended to rope everything from the toy horses to the desktop lamp—and each other.

In an effort to keep them all in one piece, their father had dutifully uttered the occasional warning of ‘be careful’ or ‘not so rough’—most likely for their mother’s benefit.

More so though, their dad had simply done his best to get through the paperwork part of the ranch business while his children created havoc around him.

Funny, in all the time since they’d buried their father, the familiar scent of his aftershave seemed to still linger in the air. Or perhaps it was nothing more than memories and wishful thinking.

“Did Mom tell anyone why we’re all here?” Carson uncapped the crystal decanter behind the desk then raised an empty glass to his brother.

“No, thanks.” Preston waved off the silent invitation. “Rachel is unpacking. Neither of us has any idea what this is all about.”

Carson, who since their father’s passing had done his best to step up in their oldest brother Kade’s absence and quietly be there for their mother, sank heavily in one of the oversized leather chairs, swirled the ice in the two fingers of bourbon, and took a long swallow.

“Looks like you’ve had a hard day.” Preston took a seat across from him, leaving the sofa and a smaller chair for his mom and siblings.

“Hard week.” Carson eyed the glass glimmering from the reflection of the nearby lamp. “Heck, more like weeks.”

Hands threaded in front of him, Preston leaned forward. Even though Carson was the most private of the siblings, Preston couldn’t remember seeing his brother stew so sternly over anything. “What’s wrong?”

“Just another day in the flip world.” Carson sighed. “Turns out the most recent project we sank all our available cash into, is now knee deep in litigation.”

“That’s something new.”

“For me it is. Seems all the houses in that subdivision are in a class action suit against the original developers and we can’t do squat until it’s settled. My ninety-day rehab schedule just went down the drain.”

“So now what?”

“Not sure. I’m okay for a while, but the reno budget is growing tighter every day until I come up with a plan B.”

“Sorry, man.” Preston changed his mind about that drink after all.

The loose board by the threshold squeaked, announcing his sister’s arrival. “A little early to be drinking, isn’t it?”

“What’s that saying, it’s five o’clock somewhere?” Carson leaned forward and set his drink on the table then looked at his watch. “It’s been five o’clock on the east coast for over half an hour.”

“In that case,” Rachel smiled up at Preston still at the bar, “make mine on the rocks.”

“Aren’t you too young to drink?” Carson teased.

His sister flashed a wistful grin. “Oh, to be twenty-one again.”

“Twenty-one? Aren’t you sixteen?”

“Here we go again.” Rachel accepted her glass and rolled her eyes at her brothers.

Didn’t matter how old she grew, in their eyes she and Jillian would always be the kid sisters who needed their big bad brothers to keep them safe and out of trouble, especially since the two had been stubborn and strong-willed since birth.

Not even falling from the boys’ tree house and breaking an arm had taken the edge off of Rachel’s adventurous streak.

“Never mind that.” Preston figured the least he could do was reel in his brother’s sense of humor, especially since they had more pressing matters at hand. Setting his drink aside, he slid his phone from his pocket and hit his mom’s number.

“Mom?” Rachel asked.

Preston nodded, and Carson scooted to the edge of his seat, carefully watching the phone, then sliding back when the call went to voice mail.

Still staring at the now quiet phone, Rachel frowned. “Anyone else starting to feel guilty for making Mom worry when we missed curfew and forgot our phones?”

“Not me.” Preston smiled. “I was perfect.”

Rachel rolled her eyes at him and then her face stiffened. “Seriously, maybe we should make some phone calls. Friends, Ray, make sure she’s all right.”