The Way to Texas

“You mean, she’s havin’ the baby today?” he asked, not missing a lick.

Dawn sounded agitated as she placed her hand between his shoulder blades and steered him toward the open door. “Maybe. Probably. But you have to go home now.”

Once the child disappeared, Dawn spun around and walked toward the kitchen. Nellie still seemed freaked out, so he smiled again and tried not to let his discomfort show.

Dawn returned in less than five seconds with several towels which she handed to him.

“Do me a favor and wipe up the floor.” She didn’t wait for an answer, just pulled her cell phone from her pocket.

Tyson looked at the floral towels which had seen better days but smelled April fresh. Then he glanced at Nellie’s feet. He’d cleaned up worse. Surely.

Poor Nellie stood frozen, her eyes misty and wide. “Today?” she said again.

“Don’t worry, Nellie.” He grasped her elbow and helped her step from the puddle.

She took a small step then clutched her stomach. “Ow!”

Something in the air felt wrong. He’d always had a sixth sense about calamity. In fact, such a premonition had saved his life in Baghdad. He looked over at Dawn, but the only visible sign of distress she showed was one slender foot tapping on the floor. After a moment, she pulled the phone from her ear and glared at it. “Not answering. That figures. The most important day of his life, and the dumb a—” Her mouth snapped shut, and she seemed to regroup.

“No problem,” Dawn said, as he dropped a towel on the floor and moved it around with his foot. “I’ll get my car. We’ll call him on the way. The doctor, too.”

Nellie clutched her stomach again. “Ow. This really hurts.”

“Oh, no.” A horrified expression appeared on Dawn’s face. “My car’s at the garage getting new brakes. It won’t be ready till tomorrow. Jack was going to pick us up today.”

Nellie groaned again calling his attention to where she was holding on to the arm of the old-fashioned-looking sofa.

“Maybe you better sit down, Nellie,” he said, pausing in his cleaning.

Nellie lowered herself onto the couch before popping up again. “Wait, give me a towel. I don’t want to ruin the couch. Dawn just reupholstered it.”

Dawn’s head snapped up. “Are you serious? You think I care about the stupid couch? Because I don’t. You’re in freaking labor. You don’t have a bag packed and I haven’t finished the quilt for the nursery. And my stupid brother isn’t answering his phone. And we have no way to get to the hospital, which is not exactly down the road. So, please, sit on the couch.”

Time to do something more than play cleaning lady. Even if it meant he’d be too late to catch a movie with Laurel. “No problem. Let me pull my truck into the drive and then we’ll be on our way.”

“But the hospital’s almost thirty miles away,” Dawn said, abandoning her irritation and pushing her long dark hair from her face. She moistened her bottom lip, a very sensual movement he didn’t fail to notice even though they were in full-on crisis mode.

“I’ve been known to drive such distances before.” He smiled at Nellie, trying to do his best to reassure his longtime friend. Mild terror had taken its place upon her face.

“What about Bubba? Maybe he can take us,” Nellie said, crossing her feet ladylike as she perched on the edge of the couch. “I mean, I hate to put you out, Tyson. You came for a meeting not a…birth.”

“Are you kidding?” Dawn said, her brown sandals clacking on the floor as she approached her sister-in-law. She pushed Nellie’s hair off her forehead and patted her shoulder. “Mr. Hart doesn’t care about the meeting right now. We’ve got a baby on the way, and even if the first one usually takes a while, we need to get you to the hospital now. So, on your feet. We’re taking Mr. Hart up on his offer.”

“Tyson,” he said.

Her gaze found his. “What?”

“Call me Tyson,” he said, taking Nellie’s elbow and helping her toward the entrance. The bevel-paned door was still ajar from Hunter Todd’s hasty departure. As they passed it, Nellie grabbed it, bent over and groaned.

Tyson mouthed one word at Dawn. “Hurry.”

TYSON TRIED TO FOCUS on Highway 80, but it was hard to do with Dawn’s light floral scent filling his nose and her nicely rounded butt sliding against his thigh. Which should not have mattered since Nellie was in full-blown labor. But he couldn’t help noticing. After all, he was a man.

He also couldn’t stop himself from glancing at the clock on the console. Nellie’s contractions were coming too fast to still be ten miles from the hospital.

Every few seconds or so, Dawn’s chocolaty brown eyes would meet his and a clear message was sent. Something was wrong. Tyson felt it in his gut as certain as Sunday. He was afraid he’d have to pull the ten-year-old pickup truck to the side of the highway so Dawn could catch her new nephew as he made his debut into the world.

And that would suck.

Not just for obvious reasons, but because they hadn’t been able to get in touch with Nellie’s husband. Tyson believed every man deserved to witness the miracle of his child being born. It had been the best memory of his life—one of those moments that could not be recreated in any way. So precious was the first breath his daughter took. So treasured the initial high-pitched cry. And Tyson wasn’t the sentimental type of guy. Okay, he was. His hands were calloused, his shoulders broad enough for burdens, but his heart was s’more-worthy. As in a big ol’ marshmallow.

He wanted Jack to be there to see his son seize life—not the glorified handyman.

“It’s okay, Nellie. Don’t push. Whatever you do, don’t push,” Dawn said squeezing her sister-in-law’s hand while shoving several tendrils of hair out of her own eyes. Tyson noticed her hair seemed to get in the way a lot. He wished he had a rubber band. At least he would be doing something helpful, something more than keeping the truck between the mustard and the mayonnaise.

“I…can’t…help…it,” Nellie panted, “I want to get it out of me.”

Tyson risked a glance at the two women. Dawn had Nellie’s chin in her hand, trying to direct Nellie’s eyes to hers. “Look at me. Don’t push. Deep breaths only. Focus.”

He directed his attention to the patched highway as Nellie panted like a wounded animal. About fifty yards ahead was a green sign listing mileage. Longview was only five miles away. He knew firsthand the hospital was in the middle of town. He’d been stitched up there several times during his dirt-bike-racing days as a teen. He’d have to navigate late-afternoon traffic.

“Oh, God, something’s wrong, Dawn. Something’s wrong,” Nellie moaned. Her arms locked against the dash of his truck and her frantic breaths sounded louder than any he’d ever heard. It scared him shitless, but he didn’t want her to know.

“Just a few more miles, Nellie,” he said, angling the air-conditioner vent toward her. Sweat streamed down her face.

Dawn cajoled, murmuring encouraging words as she wiped Nellie’s brow with some napkins from McDonald’s she’d found in his glove box.

After minutes of passing hilly Texas countryside, Tyson saw the first smattering of Longview businesses—a gas station, a place with shiny tractors out front and a fast-food restaurant. Reaching the edge of town didn’t help his anxiety level because as they passed the city-limit sign, his passenger screamed, “Oh, my God! It’s ripping me apart.”

Tyson pressed the accelerator all the way to the floorboard when he saw Nellie’s knees spring into the air. The old truck leaped forward as the cell phone sitting on the dashboard rang.

Dawn looked busy. He didn’t really want to know what she was doing, since all he could see was Nellie’s white thigh. He heard Dawn chant “Oh, shit…oh, shit…oh, shit,” so he grabbed the phone and flipped it open.

“Hey, sis, what’s going on? You sounded weird.”

“Uh, Jack, this is—”

“Who’s this?” the voice erupted from the phone.

“Listen. This is Tyson Hart—”

“Who? Where’s my sister?”

“Shut up,” Tyson growled into the phone, as Nellie let out another screech. “I’m driving your wife to the hospital. Get in your vehicle and get your ass to Longview. Now.”

Tyson clicked the phone shut because a red light was about fifty yards in front of him. The truck swerved over the center lane as Dawn’s round butt connected with his arm, and he threw the phone onto the dashboard then applied the brakes.

“Almost there. Jack’s on his way.”

“Hear that, Nellie?” Dawn’s voice sounded soothing, “Jack is on his way and we’re here. You’re doing great, honey. Just hold on a little longer.”

The litany of her voice calmed him. And he felt as twitchy as a man who’d been in lockdown for a month. He searched for a hospital sign, but all he saw were blinking signs advertising pawnshops and Laundromats. Finally he found the blue H symbol and followed the arrow toward 259 North.

More panting, more cursing and more sweating ensued before the three-story white rectangle emerged on the horizon like the Holy Grail of hospitals. Tyson hit the emergency-room drive like a race car driver hit the pit. He likely left two long tire marks when he skidded to a halt.

“Go get somebody,” Dawn said, sliding herself nearly across his lap as she turned around in the seat toward Nellie. She didn’t have to tell him twice. Nellie’s knees were bent and her skirt hiked high.

A woman in scrubs met him at the swooshing doors. Her face held a mixture of annoyance and concern. She held an unsmoked cigarette in her hand.

“I need a stretcher or wheelchair,” he said, looking over her head at the open entrance. “If you don’t hurry, she’s going to have that baby in my pickup.”

The woman sprang into action, first pocketing her cigarette, next calling into the doorway, “Cheryl!”

For a moment, Tyson simply stood and took a deep breath, taking in the aroma of hot asphalt and burning leaves. He wanted to reach into the nurse’s pocket and grab her cigarette and fire it up. But he had quit smoking when he’d quit drinking the hard stuff.

Another woman in scrubs appeared with a stretcher. She rolled it toward his truck, lowered it in one movement, then helped the other woman ease Nellie onto it. Dawn held her sister-in-law’s shoulders and still talked soothingly into her ear. Nellie’s face was streaked with tears. His eyes held her face because he would not, could not look down at where her knees still seemed to be parted.

One of the nurses pulled a sheet over Nellie’s knees and he blew out a sigh of relief.

They rolled past him and Dawn caught his eye. “I’m going with her. Will you stay and bring Jack when he gets here?”

He nodded and, oddly enough, her shoulders sank with what he imagined to be relief. “Let me park the truck and I’ll be right in.”

He watched for a moment as she followed the stretcher into the E.R. Her silk blouse clung to her back and her once crisp pants held more wrinkles than an old circus elephant. But something about Dawn made him want to take a deep breath, one of those deep cleansing breaths that chased away shadows and cobwebs.

Then again, something about her made him want to sink into her, claim her as his own. A visceral, animalistic reaction—one he’d not had in a while. Her long tan arms and dark tresses were made for wrapping round a man, and her soulful dark eyes hinted at a sensuality he wanted to explore.

Which was a bad idea all around.

He was in Oak Stand to start a new life. After a rotten marriage and a rocky relationship with his daughter, he needed a clean slate. No need to muddy things by lusting after the sexiest thing he’d seen in months. That would be beyond stupid.

Tyson climbed into his old pickup, noting that the Texas dust made his truck’s silver paint look dirty gray. A few empty coffee cups from a gas station still sat in the cupholders and he needed to sweep out the gum wrappers that had fallen to the dusty floormats. Thank God, Nellie hadn’t had her baby in here.

He parked near a group of medical offices and headed toward the hospital. Just as he crossed the landscaped path two things happened.

First, Dawn emerged from the open E.R., her smile radiant, her eyes dancing. She opened her mouth and yelled, “It’s a girl!”

Second, a huge F250 roared into the parking lot with a Longview police cruiser following. Blue lights flashed, tires squealed and a disheveled dark-haired man sprang from the truck and flew toward the E.R.

Jack Darby had finally reached Longview.

In record time, no doubt.

CHAPTER THREE

DAWN WATCHED AS NELLIE stroked the face of her newborn daughter and remembered the first time she’d held her own son. Only a little fuzzy hair was visible above the tightly bound blanket.

“Can you believe it’s a girl?” Nellie said, smiling serenely, not taking her eyes from the bundle in her arms. She softened her voice and murmured to the baby.

“And all this time we were calling you a boy. So sorry, sweet girl.”

Dawn smiled at her sister-in-law, feeling both incredibly happy and exhausted. Amazingly, her headache had disappeared. “I can’t believe a lot of things that happened today.”

Jack rubbed a hand over his face as he peered at Nellie and the baby. “You think she’s going to cause this sort of a ruckus all the time?”

Jack seemed to have permanent shock etched on his face, and she wondered if he might have acquired a few gray hairs over the past hour. It would serve her too-handsome brother right. With Nellie having been so close to her due date, the man should have had his cell phone plastered to his hand. Instead he’d left it in his truck. Luckily, he’d been at a farm just outside Longview when he’d found out Nellie was en route to the hospital.

“No,” Dawn said, walking over to the stretcher. She looked down at the red-faced baby sleeping peacefully after her traumatic entry into the world. “She’s going to be the sun rising and setting for you, little brother.”

Jack’s face emoted into pure love. “For once, I won’t argue with you.”

Dawn gave her brother a good-natured punch on his arm and looked over to where Tyson stood by the emergency-room curtain. The man didn’t look comfortable, but he didn’t seem particularly uncomfortable, either. She wondered why she had wanted him to stay. She could have handled everything by herself. But something about Tyson seemed rock-steady and for a few moments, she’d needed his strength.

“Hey, Tyson, let me buy you a cup of coffee.” She at least owed him that. The man had gone above and beyond. Besides, the hospital staff was about to move Nellie to a private room and Dawn could really use a break.

Tyson glanced at Nellie. “Sure. I could use a good cup of coffee. Jack?”

But neither Jack nor Nellie paid the least attention to anything other than their baby, lost in the little world they had created.

Dawn’s heart pinged.

She glanced back at Tyson and his eyes met hers. He felt the poignancy of the moment, too. She jerked her head toward the exit.

They slipped from the emergency room and headed toward the cafeteria. Her sandals clacked on the polished hospital floor, echoing down the corridor. The sound seemed to heighten the silence between them.

She searched for something to say, but words wouldn’t come. The adrenaline that had surged through her body during the past few hours had deserted her, leaving her limbs feeling shaky. She needed to sit down, have something to drink and force her body to relax.

They reached the cafeteria and Tyson frowned at the door.

“What?” Dawn said.

“Closed five minutes ago.”

Dawn sighed. “Well, maybe there’s a soda machine. I could use a shot of something.”

“If I remember correctly, we passed a Starbucks when we got off 259. Let’s grab a cup there.”

Dawn wavered. She didn’t want to leave the hospital. Nellie and Jack might need her help as they got settled in a room. She hadn’t been able to complete any paperwork and wasn’t sure where she’d put Jack’s insurance card.

“Listen, they’re not going to even notice you’re gone. She’s got to be moved to a room, and in my experience that always takes a while. We’ll get coffee and pick up a few things for Nellie, like a toothbrush and something to change into.” Tyson took her elbow and guided her toward the entrance. Obviously, the man wasn’t going to wait for her to argue.

And she had no real reason to fight against his suggestion, so she allowed herself to be pulled toward the double glass doors. His hand on her bare arm felt nice—warm on skin that had grown cold in the hospital’s overzealous air-conditioning. But what was even nicer was the thoughtfulness he displayed. Most men wouldn’t have bothered to think about Nellie’s needs. Still, that didn’t mean Tyson was even on her “guy” radar.

He so wasn’t.

They stepped into the glow of the evening as an ambulance came screeching around the corner, lights flashing and siren wailing. Tyson stiffened and dropped her arm. His eyes met hers and something dark flashed within.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, fine,” he said, stepping onto the flagstone path leading to the parking lot. “I served a tour in Iraq with the National Guard. The sound of an ambulance always does that to me. Police sirens, too.”

“Oh,” Dawn said, tracing his footsteps. She didn’t know whether his statement invited further questions or not. Many veterans of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan were tight-lipped about what they experienced in the deserts and mountains overseas. She wasn’t sure it was good they didn’t talk about their experiences, but she understood not wanting to relive an awful time. It was human nature, plain and simple.

“Not that the sirens sound like the ones I heard. Just reminds me of things I’d rather forget,” he said, digging into his pocket for his keys. She watched his broad shoulders ripple with the motion. He was tall, slightly taller than her brother, but his breadth made him seem much larger.

She couldn’t stop herself from asking the question. “Were you injured?”

Silence swelled between them before he said, “Only slightly. I took a bit of shrapnel in my shoulder. I was one of the lucky ones.”

Which Dawn took to imply that there were others in his unit who were not so fortunate. Damn. This man had been injured in places no one could see. That much was evident to her. She decided not to pursue the conversation any further until they knew each other better. If they got to know each other better.

“I’m glad you weren’t hurt too badly,” she said as they reached the truck. “Now, which way to Starbucks? I seriously need a shot of espresso.”

He unlocked his door and climbed inside, popping the lock on her side of the truck. “Sorry, I should’ve opened the door for you.”

Dawn shrugged. “It’s not a date.”

“Right,” he said, shoving the key into the ignition.

Dawn slid into the sun-warmed interior, aware for the first time how much the cab smelled of him. There were no greasy bags of food on the floor or flyers peppering the dash like in so many guys’ trucks. It was virtually clean except for two disposable coffee cups sitting in the cup holders and a few gum wrappers. She inhaled the scent of sandalwood, so manly and so unlike the ocean-breeze scent she had in her own car.

They rode in silence, and seeing the familiar sign, Tyson pulled into a parking spot outside the door. When Dawn entered the café, she felt calm for the first time that day. Something about the familiarity, the jazz flooding the speakers and the half-burned smell of espresso soothed away the anxiety of the past few hours.

She sighed and allowed her shoulders to relax.

“Right choice, I can see,” Tyson said in her ear.

She started at his voice so close behind her. His baritone sounded as warm as he seemed. In fact, everything about him radiated warmth. Honey hair, honey smile, honeyed words. For a moment, she longed to lean against him and to feel his solid body against her. She knew how he’d feel—hard and good. She took a teensy step back before she caught herself and moved toward the Order Here sign.

“Absolutely,” she murmured, perusing the menu board above the barista who was busy steaming milk. Dawn ordered a café americano with an extra shot and a low-fat blueberry muffin then gestured for Tyson to order. “Go ahead. I’m buying.”

He shook his head.

“I insist,” she said, before realizing she couldn’t pay. She’d left Oak Stand without her purse. “Uh, wait. In all the hubbub, I left my purse.” She felt stupid. How could it have slipped her mind she didn’t have money? She hated that feeling. Being so out of control. At someone else’s mercy.

“Don’t worry,” he said, sliding a credit card from his wallet and ordering a black coffee. “And don’t think I won’t take you up on owing me. I’m pretty partial to a good caffeine fix.”

Dawn gave him a sheepish smile and found a small table near the window. She sank into the straight-backed chair and sighed. Sitting there felt like heaven. A minute later, Tyson set her drink and muffin in front of her. She took a sip and closed her eyes.

“So that’s what it takes to make a woman sigh like that. I’ve been doing it all wrong,” Tyson said, as he sat.

Dawn opened one eye. Was he flirting? He struck her as more the easygoing than flirty type. But every guy had a little flirt in him, though Tyson didn’t seem to need it. His smiles were so delectable, they made her toes curl.

Stop, she told herself. “Yep, just give a girl a delicious cup of coffee. Now that you know the secret, you can’t tell.”

“I feel privileged.”

A comfortable silence fell between them. The café wasn’t particularly busy at the moment. No doubt business would pick up as couples stopped by for after-movie lattes and teens gathered for legal stimulants. Dawn missed this aspect of city living.

“So about the job, I think it’s pretty much yours.” In all the chaos, they hadn’t had the opportunity to talk about the center. “When Nellie heard you were moving back and starting a contracting business, she’d already signed you up in her head. It’s a safe bet she’ll hire the dude who rushed her to the hospital and spared her delivering her firstborn on the front steps.”

Tyson smiled. “I won’t hold you to that.”

“But you do want the job?”

He took a swallow of coffee and the muscles in his neck rippled, drawing her attention to the opening of the polo shirt he wore. It was mossy green with a red crawfish on the left breast, and the rich color heightened his amber eyes. “I want the job.”

“Good,” she said, tearing her eyes from assessing the breadth of his shoulders. “I have a few things I’d like to suggest in remodeling the space.”

“Shoot,” he said, leaning forward, resting his forearms on the table. At that moment, she didn’t think she’d ever seen a man look so intense and yummy at the same time. The attraction hit her like a triple-shot espresso.

She ignored the sudden spike in her internal temperature. “Currently there are five bedrooms and two bathrooms. I think we can make a general gathering place from three of the bedrooms and one of the baths. I only want to take up half of the floor space. I like the idea of other rooms being available for clients who need rest or aren’t feeling too well. We don’t really have those capabilities on the first floor.”

“Well, it’s hard for me to judge without looking, but I’ll keep your wishes in mind. It’s been a while since I’ve taken on a remodel. I’ve been designing and building entire subdivisions for the past few years. But, I got my start doing remodeling jobs in college, so it’ll come back. Let me look at the space and the blueprints.”

She frowned. “I didn’t think about blueprints. Nellie would have those. No doubt they’re locked in a safe-deposit box at Oak Stand National.”

“You want to commit to a time for meeting and reviewing the structure?”

Dawn tried to picture the calendar in her planner, but her brain felt fuzzy. The planner was her secret crutch, a concrete guideline to keep herself straight and from feeling as though she’d fall apart. Without it, she couldn’t remember. A bazaar was coming up one Saturday in October, but she couldn’t recall which day they’d picked. “I don’t have my calendar with me, and I’m sure Nellie will need a little help. But I think it’s safe to meet next Saturday afternoon.”