Page 5 of Sweet Deal (Honeysuckle, Texas #4)

Charlie Sweet’s office was the one place in the house that usually grounded Rachel.

Tonight, though, it felt heavy, thick with unspoken tension.

She leaned back in her favorite chair, the one that surrounded her like a warm hug, watching Preston with a sheaf of printouts clutched in his hand.

His wife Sarah Sue leaned against the wet bar, a pained expression on her face as she watched her husband pace.

Across the room, Carson and Jess sat close together on the small sofa, a silent testament to their unlikely success story.

Beside her, Jillian fidgeted, tapping a nervous rhythm on the armrest. Even Garret and Jackie seemed less relaxed than usual, their easy affection underscored by a shared seriousness.

They were all here, the full contingent minus Kade, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Preston finally stopped pacing and sighed, dropping the papers onto the desk.

“Okay, brief update,” he began, his voice tight.

“Still pinched financially. We knew the three trust payments wouldn’t be a magic bullet, but even without ranch hand salaries, operating expenses are still eating through the little income we’re getting.

” He shook his head. “Basically, we’re like a pack of dogs, running in circles, chasing their tails.

” He met each of their gazes. “We’re looking at a significant shortfall again.

I’ve tried everything I can think of, borrowing from Peter to pay Paul, and I still can’t make the math work.

And this afternoon,” he sighed, “the hay bailer croaked. Clint was working on it a bit ago, but this is beyond juggling. We need another miracle.”

A collective sigh seemed to ripple through the room. Another miracle. Otherwise known as another wedding. Rachel’s stomach twisted. The weight landed squarely, heavily, on her and Jillian.

“Right,” Preston continued, running a hand through his hair. “Before we brainstorm, Kade is finally somewhere he can talk, and I promised I’d loop him in.” Quickly he initiated a video call on the computer screen.

A moment later, Kade’s face filled the screen now turned to face the people in the room. Their brother looked tired but smiled. “Hey! Good timing, was just about to hit the rack.”

“Hey, bro,” Preston greeted him. Quick pleasantries were exchanged—inquiries about his deployment—though Rachel had no idea why they bothered asking as he was never at liberty to say—reassurances were given about how Mom was holding up well considering the circumstances, and, of course, updates shared on their new nephew Mason’s latest antics.

Then Preston gave him the financial rundown, keeping it direct but maybe slightly less panicked than he’d sounded moments before.

“Bottom line, Kade, margins are still razor thin. We’re managing, but we desperately need more breathing room. ”

Kade’s expression tightened with familiar frustration. “Wish I could do more from over here. Feels useless just watching.”

“You being safe is what matters,” Carson interjected firmly. Then, almost as an aside, he added, “Speaking of watching, you’ll never guess who blew back into Honeysuckle. Jimmy Henderson.”

Kade’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? What in the world brought him back? Last I heard he was wiping the West Texas dust off his boots and never coming back.”

“More like Italian loafers,” Jillian muttered not quite under her breath.

“So, he’s doing well?” Kade’s expression shifted to something teetering on curiosity and approval.

“The gossip mill hasn’t come around to give us all the details yet,” Jillian teased, “but he certainly is looking good.”

Rachel felt her cheeks warm inexplicably. She busied herself by examining a non-existent piece of lint on her jeans.

“Hm,” Kade mused. “I guess never say never.”

“You spent a good amount of time with him today.” Preston faced his sister. “Got anything to enlighten us?”

Rachel forced a casual shrug, avoiding looking directly at the screen. “All I know is he’s taking time off from his company.”

“ His company?” Kade whistled.

“Told ya,” Jillian leaned forward, “grapevine didn’t have many details, but everyone agreed his attire cost more than most people’s monthly income.”

“Good for him.” Kade bobbed his head, not quite smiling. Not that he wasn’t probably happy for Jim, they just had a lot more important things on their mind right now. “Guess Honeysuckle is turning out its share of success stories. I saw that Blake Kirby is doing a European tour.”

“Has a new hit on the radio too,” Carson said. “Definitely living the high life.”

Rachel shifted her attention to her sister who kept surprisingly silent.

In the early years of Blake’s music, Jillian followed his career closely.

The first time one of his songs hit the top of the charts, the way Jillian carried on, anyone would have thought she had penned the tune, entitling her to an income.

For all Rachel knew, Jillian might still have a thing for the guy, but if she did, she never said a word.

The conversation shifted back to general chit-chat and minor updates about the stock, the barn, and the lone ranch hand before Kade needed to sign off so he could give his mother a quick call before it was time for lights out.

As soon as the screen went dark, Jillian let out an explosive sigh and turned directly to Rachel, a speculative, almost predatory gleam in her eye that Rachel instantly distrusted.

Heaving a deep sigh, Preston pushed to his feet. “We’ve spun our wheels long enough for one night. I vote we table this discussion until after we’ve all had a good night’s sleep.”

Garret nodded. “Maybe I’ll play the lotto tomorrow.”

Everyone knew he was joking, but somehow, Rachel wasn’t sure that it might not be a good idea. At least she could afford the price of one ticket.

The room emptied, but Jillian remained in her seat, swirling a glass of Ginger Ale in front of her.

“Coming?” Rachel stood by her sister’s chair.

“I’m thinking.” Her sister’s gaze lifted to meet hers. “What about Jim?”

“What about him?” She did her best to feign ignorance, but she knew exactly where her sister was going with this.

“He’s single. He’s handsome. He’s home. And did I mention he’s single?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. He lives in California. He has a business in California. He will probably visit for a bit, get his fill of West Texas dust, and then remember why he left in the first place and run home to his closet full of Italian loafers and tailored apparel.”

“Or,” Jill stood, “in the name of friendship, he might be willing to help us out. Y’all were awfully close once upon a time.” She took a few steps and stopped by the open door. “At least think about it.”

Her sister disappeared into the hallway and Rachel was left standing, her mind reeling, her jaw hanging open, and her palms starting to sweat. Could Jillian’s lame idea actually work?

The low rumble of conversation, punctuated by the clink of ice in glasses and the soft thwack of cards hitting the felt-topped table, was a familiar sound.

Jim nursed a lukewarm beer he didn’t really want and tried to focus on the hand he’d just been dealt.

Useless. Just like his concentration had been since leaving Rachel earlier that afternoon.

His brother, Mark, had practically dragged him out of their parents’ house after dinner. “Come on, Jim,” he’d insisted. “Wednesday night poker game at Bill’s garage. Best way to reconnect with the guys, hear the real local news.”

So here he was, surrounded by faces he’d known most of his life—ranchers, small business owners, guys who had stayed while he’d chased success elsewhere.

The conversation flowed easily around him—complaints about the price of feed, praise for the high school quarterback’s performance this season, speculation about the Friday night’s upcoming game.

It was the comfortable rhythm of small-town life he hadn’t realized he missed.

“I’m in.” Jim tossed a chip in the pot.

Mark gave him a sideways glance. “You already anted up.”

“Oh.” He chuckled. “Guess it’s been a long day.

” Long didn’t begin to cover it. Seeing Rachel again, spending hours just talking and laughing like no time had passed…

if he thought he was confused when he walked out of that oceanside restaurant having broken his engagement to a woman he had no business marrying, he was even more confused now.

His brother eyed him a moment longer before nodding. “How was your afternoon with Rachel?”

“Rachel?” Bill looked up from his cards. “You saw her today?”

Three heads turned in his direction. Mark shook his head. “The whole town knows they ran into each other today. How the heck did you miss it?”

Shifting his cards, Bill shrugged. “Unlike some people, I actually work hard for a living.”

There was no arguing that ranching was a tough job. Up before dawn, hard labor all day, and then early to bed to start over again the next day.

“Two cards.” Jim tried to redirect the conversation away from Rachel.

Bill dealt him the two requested cards.

“I ran into Garret and his wife the other day. Still can’t believe he’s married. One minute he was our fifth player and the next he was head over boot heels in love and married.”

“Don’t forget Preston and Carson,” Bill added. “Three weddings in only a few months. They’re making the rest of us look bad.”

Laughter went around the table. Jim managed a tight smile.

He remembered Rachel mentioning her brothers’ recent marriages back at the park.

He pictured her face when she talked about them, the easy affection mixed with that undercurrent of…

something else. Stress? Worry? He hadn’t been able to place it then, and he couldn’t now.

What was really going on over at the Sweet Ranch?

She’d mentioned losing their foreman, everyone moving home to help her mom.

It sounded like Charlie Sweet was missed more than they were letting on.

He thought back to their afternoon. The way she’d laughed when he almost tripped retrieving her napkin at the park.

The intensity in her eyes when she talked about her social work, her passion for “fixing wrongs.” And the way she’d looked picking out that belt buckle for him at Miller’s.

Then there was that brief kiss on the cheek before she left…

simple, friendly, yet it had sent a jolt through him he still felt hours later.

The pile of chips center table was growing.

“I’ll call.” Mark tossed a few chips onto the pile and, smiling, laid down his cards. “Three Jacks.”

One by one the others tossed the cards on the table and grumbled. Jim did the same, his cards falling face up.

His brother stared at the cards. “Jim?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve got three aces. You should have won this round.”

Blinking, he looked down at the cards. His brother was right; his mind was most definitely not on the game. Pushing back from the table, he stood. “Like I said, long day. Deal me out this hand. Need to stretch my legs. Be right back.”

He stepped out of the brightly lit garage into the cool night air.

The vast Texas sky arched overhead, ablaze with stars, a sight he rarely saw on the light-polluted California coast. He pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts, halting at Rachel Sweet, wondering if after all these years she still had the same number.

Only one way to find out. Tapping the number before he had time to change his mind, he sucked in a deep breath, ran his hand behind his neck and listened to the ringing from his phone.

It rang twice before she picked up, her voice slightly breathless, “Hello.”

“Hey, Rach,” he tried to sound casual, leaning against the side of the house. “Didn’t wake you or interrupt anything important, did I?”

“No, I was in the kitchen and my phone was upstairs.”

“Sorry about that.”

“No big deal.” He could hear her lower the volume on a television.

All he could think was if she was in the living room or her room, then he shook his head as if chasing away the thoughts. It didn’t matter.

“What are you up to?”

“Mark dragged me to a poker game at Billy’s.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“It’s nice reconnecting.” That part was mostly true. “But I was thinking about that rain check.”

“Still angling to win that five dollars back, Henderson?” He could almost hear her smile through the phone.

“You know it.” Relief washing over him, a smile took over his face. This felt easy. Right. “Seriously, though, you busy tomorrow? Figured we could finally settle that corn hole score. Unless you’d rather do something else?”

“Oh, uh…”

His smile slipped. He shouldn’t have presumed she’d be free on a weekday, or any day for that matter. They really hadn’t gotten into personal details. For all he knew, she had a boyfriend. “Sorry, I forgot tomorrow’s a workday.”

“No. That’s fine, it’s just that I need to check on a family tomorrow. But I should be home late afternoon, if that’ll work for you?”

“Sounds perfect.” Oddly enough, it really did.