Page 19 of Sweet Beginnings (Honeysuckle, Texas #1)

His mom was definitely in a very good mood. Preston’s mother had turned on the stereo, loud enough to be heard through the whole house, and had set the radio in her room to the same station. They were being bombarded by stereophonic sound from all sides.

“I finally have good reason to clean out your father’s side of the closet.” Alice Sweet dropped a handful of shirts, hangers and all, into a box. “I’ve had these boxes stacked in the closet for ages. Guess this was the motivation I needed.”

Preston stood in the doorway to his parents’ bedroom. “Mom, we don’t have to do this.” He was beginning to sound like the proverbial broken record.

His mom lifted her head and leveled her gaze with his, a bright smile on her face. “It’s time. And your father’s side is already for your clothes. I’ll move mine into yours and then Sarah can have my closet. Perfect.”

Reluctantly, Preston nodded. “Perfect.”

As he and Sarah Sue carried armfuls of clothes from his closet, his mother pulled out a drawer and carried it over to Preston’s room.

In the closet, he hung a few pairs of pants and arms full, Sarah sidled up beside him.

An oldie song came on the radio and Sarah’s head started bobbing as she one by one hung shirts on the rod.

By the time her arms were free, Preston was feeling the rhythm as well.

On impulse, he took hold of her hand and twirled her in place.

Sarah Sue let out a cute girlish giggle and he swirled her into his arms and swayed left then right, her laughter bubbling over.

How could he resist? He twirled her around again and dropped her into a deep dip.

Laughter filled the room and when he lifted her up, she spun around into his arms.

Staring down at her, he was overwhelmed at the urge to pull her in even closer and kiss her, really kiss her. Instead, his mom appeared in the doorway.

“Oh.” Alice Sweet stopped, her smile impossibly brighter. “Sorry. I just wanted to put this drawer back and grab another.”

Both his sister and brother, each carrying an armful of folded clothes, came to a stop behind their mother.

“This is no time for a traffic jam.” Carson shifted around his mother. “Mom says these go in the drawers she’s been emptying.”

“Ditto.” Rachel appeared on their mother’s other side. “No one said a thing about a dance break.”

Still grinning, their mother crossed the room, shoved the empty drawer back into the dresser and spun around. “Back to work, everyone.”

Another few moments and they were all traipsing back and forth across the hall, moving clothes around, stripping bed sheets, and with each crossing there was a little more swing in everyone’s step.

Content with the progress they’d made so quickly in swapping out bedrooms, Alice took a minute to run downstairs and check on the desserts she’d set in the oven.

The back door cracked open and Clint, the lone ranch hand left, stomped his feet on the mat and held his hat in his hands. “Afternoon, Miss Alice.” He paused, his head cocked slightly to one side, eyes narrowed. “You’re looking awfully spry today.”

“Spry?” She shook her head. “Why does that make me feel twenty years older than I am?”

“Sorry, ma’am.” He slapped his hat against his thigh.

“Ma’am. Oh dear, make that thirty years.”

Poor Clint actually blushed. His feet shuffled from side to side, and slowly he fully lifted his head to level his gaze with hers. “I’m sorry to have to say this. There’s a section of fence down in the south pasture. From what I can see, we’re missing about a dozen cows.”

Her breath caught in her throat as she managed to squeak out, “Ray?”

“I don’t know, but I think not. It looks like the fence just gave out.”

“Gave out,” she muttered. Even though she needed for more things to fall apart like she needed another fall on the barbed wire; at least it was way better than cut by that sniveling, thieving, former foreman, Ray.

“I rigged the fence for now, but if I could get one of your boys to give me a hand, we can find the missing cattle, then I can fix the fence right.”

Fix it right. They were so tight on money at the moment that she could barely afford to buy toilet paper, never mind much needed supplies. “About that.”

“Please don’t go there again.”

“There?”

“About my pay. I told you, a roof over my head and three square meals a day is all I need till the ranch is on sound footing.”

And there was that too. Would this place ever be on sound footing again?

Along with the other ranch hands whose salary she’d been able to use toward loan payments, Clint had refused his paycheck and insisted she add it the payment.

Something she hadn’t intended to make a long-term arrangement, but apparently that was her only hand’s intent.

She could see some of their older hands who had been with them for decades doing something like that, but the good guys were all gone.

One by one the cowhands who had spent years on the payroll had given some excuse or other for moving on, and, of course, their replacements were much younger and hired by Ray.

No doubt the former ranch hands leaving, like all her other cattle trouble, had been orchestrated or manipulated by the crooked foreman.

Now, Clint was their most recent hire. The man hadn’t been here but a few months before Ray and the rest of the hands slithered into the night, and yet, he seemed to have a loyalty to the ranch that had no rhyme or reason.

Did it? She shook her head and reminded herself why she had reason to smile. “Not today.”

“Excuse me?”

“Preston and Sarah Sue are married.”

“Hitched?”

Her cheeks hurting from so much smiling, she bobbed her head. “Hitched.”

One side of his mouth tipped upward in a hint of a smile. “Congratulations, Miss Alice. Miss Sarah Sue is a nice gal. I’ve only met her a time or two, but anyone can see she’s good people.”

“Yes, she is. It’s about time something positive happened to this place.” Losing Charlie had almost broken her, finding out what Ray had done only made things worse, but today, today all was well with the universe.

“I guess the cattle and fence can keep till morning.”

Shaking her head, she waved a finger at him as if he were a small child. “You’re not working on the Lord’s day, Clint.”

“No, ma’am.” His eyes widened suddenly. “I mean, Miss Alice.”

His sudden backpedaling of the polite name that had made her feel horribly old a few moments ago, now made her want to laugh. “Join us for supper? A celebration of sorts.”

Heavy boot steps came down the stairs and Clint lifted his gaze in time to see Carson coming toward the kitchen with a full laundry basket in hand.

“Thank you for the offer,” Clint took a step in retreat and shoved his hat on his head, “but it’s been a long day.”

Without a word, Alice nodded and watched the door close behind the one man who she was learning to trust even if he wasn’t family.

“Was it something I said?” Carson dropped the basket on the kitchen table.

Staring at the back door, Alice shook her head and turned to smile at her son. “We lost a fence in the south pasture, and a few cows. We’ll deal with it Monday.”

Carson’s brow shot up. Ranch work didn’t take holidays. Even for the Lord’s day, cattle needed to be tended, and problems needed to be handled. Only today, shoving her doubts aside, she was taking a break to celebrate a happy union. Even if it killed everyone.

“You look absolutely ridiculous.” Sarah Sue did her best not to laugh out loud at Preston in a red velvet Mexican sombrero.

“Hey, when you’re thirteen years old and the sales girl has big brown eyes and lashes that cast a shadow across her cheeks, the hat is a bargain.”

“I bet.” The stacks of boxes at the bottom of Preston’s closet were a regular treasure trove. They’d sorted through baseball hats, basketball trophies, team signed footballs and baseballs, and a few things she couldn’t quite figure out. But the sombrero was the most laughable.

“Need more boxes?” Carson stood in the doorway of what until this morning had been his mom’s room.

“Trash bags make more sense.” Preston pointed to the stack of old trophies, then moving to the bed, waved his arm over a multitude of drawers sprawled across the bed. “It’s a safe bet I am never fitting in my sophomore year basketball shirt.”

“Considering you’re about six inches taller than you were then, I’d say that’s an affirmative.” Carson shook his head at the drawers.

The music still playing, though not as loudly, a song Sarah had never heard began and soon she found herself tapping her toes.

“Like Bill Withers?” Preston’s mom came in carrying a large wicker basket.

“Who?” three voices echoed.

From behind his mom, Rachel rolled her eyes. “Don’t let them get to you, Mom. They have no taste.”

A toothy smile on her face that made her eyes twinkle, Alice Sweet bopped—there was no other word for it—over to her son and taking his hand, pulled him out into the middle of the bedroom floor.

Without skipping a beat, Carson twirled his mother in place and then fell into a dance step that reminded her of an old Fred Astaire or Gene Kelly movie.

Another chorus of “Lovely Day” began and with a shrug, Preston extended his hand to Sarah. “Shall we?”

“I don’t think I know how,” she chuckled.

“Sure you do. It’s like a glorified two step.” As his brother had done, Preston spun Sarah into his arms and then began twirling and swinging her back and forth.

She knew from her prom that the man had rhythm, and the brief spin by the closet a short while ago showed he could still move, but she had no idea he was this good of a dancer.

She felt like Ginger Rogers whirling around the room.

Every time he twirled her into his arms, she couldn’t help but giggle with delight.