Page 18 of Sweet Deal (Honeysuckle, Texas #4)
Jillian Sweet leaned back, surveying the scene spread out before her.
Chores were done, the week was winding down, and the conversations flowed as easily as the sweet tea Alice kept refilling.
Garret stood by the massive smoker wielding tongs with the authority of a pit master while the scent of burning mesquite and seasoned meats made her mouth water.
Across from her Rachel and Jim’s shoulders brushed as they leaned in to share a quiet comment over something Mason explained with barbecue-sauce-covered hands.
A moment after, the newly married couple shared a glance.
The food forgotten, Jim sweetly swirled gentle caresses with his thumb along Rachel’s arm.
Her sister and her new husband radiated a quiet, confident happiness, a comfortable intimacy that made Jillian’s heart feel a little lighter.
“Garret, these ribs are fantastic.” From her seat at the picnic table under the massive oak, Sarah Sue licked sauce from her fingers.
“You outdid yourself with the brisket.” Seated beside his wife, Carson stabbed at another slice, the two pausing to smile at each other as if their very lives depended on maintaining a silent connection.
“Honestly, Alice,” Jess reached for another helping of potato salad, “what’s your secret? Mine never, ever tastes this good, and I swear I follow your recipe to the letter.”
A contented twinkle in her eye, their mother smiled. “My pinch may be bigger—or smaller—than yours. All you need is more practice. You’ll get there.”
The cheerful chatter around the table paused as Preston pushed his chair back and stood.
He caught Sarah Sue’s eye, his hand finding hers for a brief, reassuring squeeze before he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded envelope.
“Mom,” his voice caught for a brief second, “this is for you.”
Alice set down her fork, wiping her hands on a napkin before accepting the envelope. Brows furrowed, she pulled out the documents. With every scan of the papers, her eyes grew wider and wider. “Preston, what is this?”
“The docs—well, copies—from Dad’s smallest loan.” Preston’s gaze remained fixed on his mother, a proud smile teasing the corners of his mouth. “And the notice from the bank that at least one loan is now paid in full.”
Silence hung over the family meal. All eyes on their mother, her face transforming, when she looked up, tears shimmered in her eyes. “How?”
Preston casually hefted one shoulder. “We all contributed.”
Glancing around the group, Jillian smiled at the quiet satisfaction on each face. At his grandmother’s side, even young Mason seemed to understand something important was happening.
Her back straightening as their mother looked skyward, blinked, and an infectious grin took over her face, reaching eyes now sparkling with delight—and a little mischief. “Someone get me a match!”
Amidst the ensuing cheers and laughter, Carson produced a lighter. Soon, the paper—a symbol of so much struggle and effort—curled into ash in the fire pit normally used for S’mores and late-night ghost stories.
Couples fell into tender embraces, sharing gentle touches, before group hugs and high-fives added to the elation of the shared victory.
Just as the last embers of the loan papers died down, the distinct rumble of a heavy truck approached, growing louder, pulling everyone’s attention away from the fire and toward the house.
Only one person didn’t look confused at the sound. Taking hold of Rachel’s hand, Jim tugged her to her feet. “Perfect timing.”
The two led the way to the front of the house as a flatbed truck rolled to a stop. On its bed, an impossibly shiny green, brand spanking new hay baler.
“You know about this?” Rachel spun around and stared up at her husband.
His smile wide, Jim nodded. “Slightly belated wedding gift,” his voice came out soft but carried across the suddenly quiet group. “I figured it was time the Sweet Ranch had equipment that wouldn’t break down every other week.”
“It’s too much.” Rachel shook her head.
Carson, Preston, and Garret stood mesmerized as the driver hopped out of the truck.
“She’s right.” Preston sighed. “We can’t let you—”
His hand up, palm out, Jim cut Preston off. “No argument. If any of you could have done this, you would have. This is for the ranch, the legacy we’ll be giving our children.”
While Jim may have been referring to the next generation in general, Rachel’s cheeks blushed a light rose color as she leaned into his shoulder. He circled his arms around her, and she clung to him as if he’d just handed her the moon instead of a piece of farm machinery.
Her brother’s gaze darted from one to the other, all the siblings, including Jillian, gave a curt nod.
A silent agreement made that Jim, now part of the Sweet family, had every right to contribute as anyone else.
The decision made, everyone crowded around the truck, talking over each other.
Mention of horsepower and efficiency ratings tumbled over each other.
Standing slightly apart from the chaos, her sister’s face tilted up toward her husband’s, both wore expressions of such profound love and contentment that it made Jillian’s heart swell.
Most of her siblings had found that someone special.
Had pulled together and not only made massive strides in saving their family legacy, but had found a love like their parents had shared, something that with each passing day, Jillian doubted would be her fate.
At least not now. Now, her duty to the family was to find a husband and help pay off another loan.
Too bad she didn’t have a bloody clue where to find him.