Texas Grit - Barb Han

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I’ll be able to get to work in the morning without calling in any favors.” She had no idea who she’d call. Carrie had been too busy with the sweet shop to make friends. At least, that’s the excuse she gave when she sat at home Friday nights after work instead of meeting pals for dinner. Her social calendar wasn’t exactly full, and she still felt like that gawky teenager she’d been. The truth was that ever since she’d returned to Cattle Barge in high school after being shifted to a group home in Kilburn City, she’d felt like an outsider. But then, no other place had felt like home, either. As silly as it sounded, even to her, the last time she’d felt like she belonged somewhere was primary school in Cattle Barge. Coming back had been an attempt to recover the feeling. So far, she’d supplied the town with the best ice cream she could create—at least that was something.

      Thinking about the past, about her past, had a way of creating instant tension in her body. A headache threatened, so she pinched the bridge of her nose.

      “The ice cream shop seems to be doing well. It’s all anyone can talk about.” The hint of pride in Dade’s voice caused ripples of hope—maybe a sense of belonging?—to bubble inside her chest.

      “It’s definitely been keeping me on my toes, and I’m grateful people seem to like it.” The store made her feel part of the community, even if a counter stood between her and the rest of the world.

      “I hear your employees like working for you,” he continued, more of that pride in his voice.

      “One of my business professors taught me to hire for attitude. He said everything else can be learned.” She’d completed her associate degree at the community college in Kilgore while waitressing nights. Studying and working was about all she’d had time for in her early twenties. She couldn’t deny her focus was paying off now.

      “Sounds like the guy knew what he was talking about,” Dade said.

      “What about you?” Carrie wanted to know what had happened to Dade after high school when she’d moved away to go to college.

      “I joined the service after graduation. Served my country and came home to the ranch to work the land,” he said, pulling into the alley. “Not sure how long I’ll stick around once the dust settles, though.”

      Before she could ask what that meant, a strong sense of foreboding settled on her shoulders, like a heavy blanket. But it was probably nothing, right?

      Until she caught a glimpse of red on the driver’s side door of her car. A single rose.

      Strange. It hadn’t been there earlier.

       Chapter Three

      “Getting a flower should be a good thing,” Carrie said to Dade, who pulled alongside her sedan and parked. She shoved aside the notion that he might be planning to move away. She had no real right to ask about his personal life. “But this just feels creepy.”

      “I’ll check it out.” He hopped out of the cab.

      She didn’t budge. There was something safe about being with Dade, despite the media scrutiny and everything going on with her pulse. Too bad the secure feeling wouldn’t last. And she needed to get home to Coco anyway.

      Dade came around to her side and opened the door. “Whoever left this didn’t identify himself.”

      He snapped a pic and said he was texting it to the sheriff.

      “It’s probably from Brett.” He’d given her a single rose early on in their relationship.

      “Either way, the sheriff needs to know,” Dade quickly said.

      In Brett’s last voice mail—the one he’d left after he calmed down and started thinking rationally again—he’d said that he’d do pretty much anything to win her back. Was he trying to remind her of happier times? She frowned. There was no chance she was going out with him again. Her favorite pair of jogging shorts was at his place—or at least she thought so, because she couldn’t find them in her house even though she could’ve sworn she’d worn them last weekend. Maybe she hadn’t looked hard enough. In all the stress and confusion of the past couple of weeks, she was starting to lose her mind. Another reason she wished Brett could accept the breakup and move on. Being the cause of someone else’s pain wasn’t exactly a good feeling.

      “Does this guy have a hard time understanding when a relationship is over?” An emotion—jealousy?—passed behind Dade’s serious blues.

      Carrie was most likely imagining it, seeing what she wanted instead of what was really there. Compassion. And sympathy? Damn. She didn’t want his pity.

      “Like I said, the breakup didn’t go over well.” With a sharp intake of air, Carrie exited the truck.

      “You’ll be okay?” More of that concern was present in Dade’s voice.

      “Yeah, fine. Thank you for taking me to the sheriff and especially for wandering down the alley when you did. I’m sorry the media has you banished to the shadows, but I can’t imagine what might’ve happened if you hadn’t been there.” An involuntary shiver rocked her. She thought about Dade reporting the rose to the sheriff. It wasn’t a crime to do something that many would consider a nice gesture from an ex who was most likely saying he was sorry. But after hearing about Dade’s sister, she could see why he’d be overly cautious.

      “Do me a favor. Park in front of the building tomorrow.” Dade took a step back, like he needed more space in between them. Not exactly a reassuring move.

      “No question there,” she responded, dodging eye contact. As it was, electricity hummed through her body being this close to Dade. If only she’d felt this way about Brett, things would’ve turned out differently. Brett wasn’t Dade. The two couldn’t be more different. Dade was serious and could be intense, but there was something comfortable and magnetic about being with him. Brett rode a motorcycle and had an edge to his personality, and that had been the initial draw. He was so completely different than her, than anyone she’d dated in the past. Maybe a little bit dangerous, too. Looking back, he was more show than substance, which was one of many reasons she’d walked away before the relationship became too serious.

      Brett liked to consider himself a thrill seeker, thus the motorcycle and the biker attitude. Real danger was deploying halfway across the world to face a foreign enemy in order to protect an ideal—freedom—not riding around in a leather jacket looking for a fistfight.

      “Do you want me to take care of this?” Dade nodded toward the flower dangling from his hand at his side.

      “Would you mind? I don’t want to deal with it right now.” She made a huge mistake in glancing up. Sensual shivers skittered across her exposed skin. She could admit to being embarrassed that she’d been blind enough to get into a bad relationship. She could blame her lapse in judgment on a million things, not the least of which would be working long hours to get her business off the ground. But the truth was that she’d been lonely. Brett was good-looking and charming when he needed to be—especially in the beginning. He’d seemed so proud of her at first, but then it had turned into something else, something possessive. She’d lost interest, and he wasn’t taking it so well. “I must seem like a complete idiot for not seeing this coming.”

      “In my experience, people don’t always show their true colors until you really get to know them. That takes time,” he said after a thoughtful pause, and she figured there was a bigger story behind those words. “You have good judgment, Carrie. You always were smarter than the rest of us. Everyone makes mistakes now and then. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

      His reassuring words calmed her. She shouldn’t allow them to. She knew better than to let herself depend on anyone else. Carrie had learned early in life that all people let her down eventually, from addict parents she’d never met to a system that put her in the hands of an abuser to a distant aunt who’d claimed Carrie and then dumped her back in the system when it became inconvenient to keep

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