Page 6 of Sweet Beginnings (Honeysuckle, Texas #1)

The four siblings lined up along the edges of the bed. Head bowed, gaze lowered, Sarah took a step back.

To Alice, the simple effort of clearing her throat seemed gargantuan.

She knew the pills she’d taken were beginning to kick in.

Under normal circumstances, it would take a dose of medicine suitable for a Clydesdale to knock her out, but her body had been through too much in the last few days, and the last few hours had completely pushed her already tired body over the edge.

She suspected a soft breeze could have knocked her over.

Another concentrated effort and she successfully cleared her throat, and then sighed. “This isn’t easy for me.”

“You don’t have to talk, Mom.” Jill patted her mother’s good hand.

Just the idea of her not wanting to speak made her chuckle. The sharp ensuing pain that shot in several directions at once smothered the smile and made her wince. She’d have to be more careful. “That’ll be the day when I’m too tired—or weak—to talk.”

This time it was Preston who smothered a hint of amusement. Concern lingered in those big steel blue eyes, but her last crack seemed to have assuaged at least a hint of her children’s worry.

“We’ve got some big problems with the ranch.”

Sarah eased back another step. “I should probably—”

“No.” Alice waved her back into the fold. “You’ve practically been one of the family since you were old enough to stand. Besides, the town’s going to find out sooner or later when they notice all my ranch hands but one are gone.”

Alice Sweet blinked, drawing on every ounce of strength she had.

The previous week she’d spent day and night poring over the books.

Checking not once, not twice, but over and over.

The paperwork, the bank accounts, her husband’s personal memos.

None of it had been good. Along the way, she’d had more than one heart to heart with the Lord and her deceased husband.

“You’re telling us Ray is gone?” Her son’s voice carried the same incredulous tone that had settled in her own mind as she’d considered the facts.

The interminable drought had given Alice the first real challenge in running the ranch since Charlie had died.

Had that been the only challenge she’d have handled it, but the books had shown that wasn’t the case.

The ranch was bleeding cherry red ink, and if she screwed up her next move, she could lose it all.

Eyes closed, Alice could still see the new ranch hand standing yesterday at her back door looking more chagrined than a little boy tasked with picking out his own switch.

His words had come out especially slow and smooth, even for a West Texas cowboy.

“I’m not sure how to say this so I’ll just say it straight out.

Got back from the line shack a little bit ago.

Found the bunk house empty of folks. No surprise at this hour of the day, exceptin’ all the gear is gone too.

Not a boot, belt, or pair of britches in the place. ”

She hadn’t liked the sudden souring of her stomach contents. All the pieces she’d been uncovering the last few days were falling into place more and more and she wasn’t liking the picture she was seeing.

“Ma’am. I’ve, uh, well, I’ve been thinking lately something around here was off. It’s why I was checking the herds in the far pastures. I don’t mean to overstep my place, but I think you’ve got more trouble on your hands than just an unhappy crew moving on to greener pastures.”

Even more than twenty-four hours later, what she was about to say was the part Alice hadn’t wanted to believe. Had prayed she’d been wrong about, and wanted desperately to will away. “Seems our trusted foreman’s been cooking the books.”

Shock, surprise, and concern took over each of the siblings faces.

Carson was the first to speak. “How bad?”

Alice swallowed hard, still asking herself how could she have let this happen. “All the male calves that were going to give us the cash infusion to help ride through the hard times are gone.”

“What do you mean gone?” Preston had inched closer to the bed.

“You name it. Everything from stillborns to pneumonia. Even lost a few with their mamas in that last flash flood.” Or at least that’s what she’d been told with this crazy feast or famine Texas weather.

Shock still reflected in her eyes, Jill grabbed hold of the brass footboard. “Really?”

Alice hated the pained look on her children’s faces as much as she hated how she’d failed them. “That’s what Ray led me to believe. According to the records, not one of the live births has made it to market.”

“I sense a but coming.” Preston moved in next to Jill.

“Got a call from Sean Farraday, one of Charlie’s ranching buddies in West Texas. Long story short, there was an oddity in this year’s sale of calves, so rather than wait for Ray to call him back, he reached out to me.”

“So there are calves to sell?” A relieved grin slid across Rachel’s face.

“Ray’s been selling off cattle and recording it as animal loss.

I’ve had more stolen and dead cattle this year than made any sense.

Until now. Most of the wood and supplies your dad bought for the new calving barn are gone too.

Probably sold. So even if we wanted to finish that project… ” her words trailed off.

“Oh, crud.” Preston raked his fingers through his hair. “Are you sure? That it’s Ray?”

She nodded. “I called the sheriff yesterday morning. He was across the county, told me not to talk to Ray, to stay put until he could get here.”

“So Ray’s in jail?”

“Afraid not.” The whole thing had been insane.

Her sister Vicki had hurried over as soon as Alice called with the bad news, determined to keep her company until the sheriff arrived while their other sister Liz stayed in town to mind the shop.

Sitting side by side at the kitchen table, when Alice finally finished updating her sister on all the ugly details she’d learned, her eyes wide like a startled screeching owl, Vicki snapped her mouth shut and then sighed.

Together they’d waited, doing a miserable job at reining in their imaginations.

When someone rapped on the back door, the pair had almost jumped out of their skins, unsure if it was the sheriff or the thieving foreman.

The only calm one in the room had been Brady.

On the floor, positioned the same as every day, her son’s German Shepherd was in the perfect spot to lunge at any unwelcome intruder.

One brow slightly raised, the dog barely lifted his gaze to the door, but refrained from moving another muscle.

If the visitor passed muster with the best friend her son’s military buddies had ever loved, then she could turn off her spooked alarm.

Through the glass door, she recognized a ranch hand who’d been hired on a few months previously, though at the time she couldn’t remember his name.

Hiring and firing had been another thing she probably shouldn’t have let Ray handle.

Now in her bedroom, Carson had moved to stand beside his brother. The kids probably didn’t realize it but they were closing ranks, coming together to deal with whatever situation life threw at them. “If Ray’s not in jail, then where is he?”

Wouldn’t she like to know. Apparently, Ray and all her ranch hands, except Clint, had not only colluded to rob her blind, they’d taken off before the sheriff could be brought in, leaving her with an unholy mess. Oh, Charlie. What are we going to do?

One by one, the next generation of Sweets walked out of their mother’s room in single file.

“I want to see the books.” Already marching down the hall, Carson clenched and unclenched his hands. “Then I have a few questions for this Clint guy. Starting with, where the hell was he when Mom was falling off a horse?”

It wasn’t really a question, but it was exactly what Preston was thinking. He needed to see the ranch records. All of them.

Funny how no one needed to say a word, but they all proceeded directly to the study.

“I think this calls for a drink.” Rachel crossed the room and opening the small fridge, pulled out a bottle of white wine. “Who’s joining me?”

“Make mine a bourbon.” Carson settled in by the computer.

A few feet behind him, Jillian followed her brother into the room. “I can’t believe all of this is happening at once.”

“I’d better call Dad and give him an update.” Sarah’s eyes widened. “I mean on her condition, not the, uhm, other things.”

Preston settled himself behind his brother. Impatient, he nudged Carson aside. “You may be the king of flipping property, but spreadsheets are my domain.”

Carson stood and waved at the screen. “It’s all yours, brother.”

It didn’t take long for Preston to confirm everything their mother had told them.

“The ranch is in some serious trouble. If Dad hadn’t chosen the year he died to borrow against the land to upgrade the hay equipment, build a new calving barn, or if the drought hadn’t struck just when we needed to increase hay production to pay for the upgrades, maybe we could have survived the only person we all trusted to run the ranch, beside Mom and Dad, stabbing us in the back instead.

But all three has created the perfect storm for catastrophe. ”

“How much money is it going to take?” Jill set her untouched wine glass down.

“To get us over the hump? I mean, the candle shop had a good tourist season and with the corn hole championship coming up and the uptick in online orders, this is looking to be my best year ever, so I’m glad to contribute, but we’re not talking about my bank account looking anything like Fort Knox. ”

He almost didn’t have the heart to tell them, but he had no choice. “Hay balers and new tractors, those alone set Dad back half a million.”

Carson looked hopeful. “Then we can sell it and pay down the loan.”

“According to the books, we bought the equipment but then there’s also a fire loss recorded.”

“Translation.” Carson sighed. “Ray probably sold it.”

Preston pinched the bridge of his nose before facing his brother again. “That’s my guess. Just to stop the snowballing penalties and interest, we’ll need almost a hundred k to cover the back payments that haven’t been made.”

“Ray?” Rachel’s eyes did that scared owl imitation.

Preston nodded. “Then there’s not enough hay to get what few cows we have left through winter. So that’ll be—”

“More money,” Carson muttered.

“Yeah,” Preston agreed. And that was only the beginning of the list.

Sarah Sue strolled into the room. “Dad says that he’s expecting the newest Mahoney to be here soon and then he’s going to stop in on his way home, so no one shoot him if you hear the front door opening in the middle of the night.”

The comment was meant to lighten the mood, but the forced smiles around the room all resembled nervous tics.

Rachel leaned forward in her chair. “What are the chances of talking the Honeysuckle Bank into giving us a loan against the trust?”

“Ha.” Jill shook her head. “Does slim to none sound familiar?”

“She’s right.” Carson leaned back, tapping his fingers on the edge of the sofa. “Whole reason our beloved, however many great-grandfathers ago set the thing up with a bank and not a family member was so that it would be guaranteed to last through the generations.”

“Well,” Preston continued to scroll through different documents, “you have to give the old goat credit for getting it right. There’s plenty of money there. We just can’t touch it.”

“Wait a minute.” Sarah Sue looked to Preston. “Y’all are trust fund babies?”

This time Rachel laughed out loud. “Not hardly, but every Sweet since Grover Eugene Sweet has inherited a small percent of the trust upon their first wedding anniversary.”

“Really?” Sarah frowned.

“Really,” Carson confirmed.

“Wow. Sounds more like a ridiculous plot for an old MGM musical.”

“Or the beginnings of a film noir,” Jill added.

Carson nodded. “It’s my understanding that there’s a small up front payment after the, er, honeymoon, followed by a nice little monthly supplement the first year of marriage, but the big payoff is the first anniversary.

Once everyone in the current generation is married, then the principle isn’t touched again until the next one starts to marry. ”

“And this has been going on for how long?” Sarah asked.

Carson shrugged, brows crinkled in thought. Jill stared at the ceiling doing math in her head, but it was Preston who replied, “Started six generations back. Originating in 1837.”

“Almost two hundred years?” Sarah Sue looked as stunned over that news as the rest of them were over their current situation. The Sweet family ranch had been a solid operation since before any of them were born.

“Like I said,” Carson took a slow sip of his bourbon, “it’s a nice sum.”

Rachel leaned forward again. “As in enough to get us out of this jam?”

“Don’t bother going there.” Carson faced his sister. “The bank will never agree to a loan.”

“Maybe not.” Rachel actually cracked a smile. “But they’d have to payout for a wedding.”

Jill rolled her eyes skyward. “Someone give the girl a cola. That glass of wine has gone straight to her head.”

“No it hasn’t and you know it.” Like a cat ready to pounce, Rachel scooted to the edge of her seat, rocking on the balls of her feet. “Think about it. All we need to do in order to bail the ranch out of the immediate threat is for one of us to get married. And fast.”