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Her father’s place might be a graveyard of memories she had to wander through, but it was better than the ghosts of her past popping up around every corner in town. Scarier still was the way her feelings for Bennett—namely a pesky one starting with an L—rose up from the dead.
She shook her head free of them and pressed down harder on the gas.
Some things were better left buried, her first love at the top of that list.
Chapter Five
Bennett opened the door to the east property his mother lived in and inhaled deeply. Steaks were on the grill and if his nose was right, so were fresh green beans and zucchini from the garden his mother kept. Gander trotted ahead, seemingly just as pleased with the dinner choices.
“Smells good in here,” Bennett called out. He’d brought a bottle of pinot gris, but one was already open on the counter. He frowned. There were a lot of things his mom was disciplined about; no wine before dinner was one of them.
So much for a peaceful family dinner. Something was on his mom’s mind.
“Mom?”
“Back here.”
As Bennett wound through the open floor plan of the single-story ranch home, he marveled at how his mom had made it her own. Every piece of wood furniture was reclaimed, sanded, and painted a shade of off-white or teal. The couch in the living room was a classy paisley print in both those shades, and the art—landscape photography from a local artist—rounded off the aesthetic while showing off the beauty of central Texas.
He couldn’t have done a better job himself.
There was someone who could, someone who’d always had an eye for decorating a space. Ah, Maggie. Her physical presence back in the valley had stirred up so many feelings and memories, but to be honest, she’d never strayed far from his heart.
Bennett got to the courtyard and smiled. Warblers and waxwings chirped overhead, adding their song to the one his mother played on the backyard speakers. The string lights and pergola over the grill were a housewarming gift from their youngest brother, Matt, whose ranch in west Texas was taking off. Too bad that gift was the last they’d seen of the guy. Jax came out from the kitchen, a beer in one hand, a plate for the steaks in his other.
Bennett hugged his mom, noting her mostly empty glass of wine.
“You didn’t tell me Margaret Newman was back in town,” she said, reaching up on her toes to give Bennett a kiss on his cheek.
He was thirty-three years old, and she was still greeting him the same as she had when he’d get off the bus in elementary school.
“Nothing to tell.” He shot Jax a look. “Tattletale,” he mouthed under his breath.
“There is, especially if you put an offer on her place barely a week after Carl died. A little insensitive, don’t you think?”
“So much for keeping that cat in the bag,” Jax said, smiling and popping a grilled pepper in his mouth.
“Your brother knew, but you weren’t going to say anything to me?”
“I’ve got plans for the valley, Mom, you know that.”
“Do these plans have anything to do with Matt’s success in last month’s Ranching World?”
Bennett ignored the mention of his brother, but his jaw stiffened. “Carl’s land is the last property I need to get access to the stream and canyon.”
“And you told Maggie all of this while bringing her flowers and one of your pies to say you were sorry for her loss, yes?”
Bennett cringed. Damn it. His mom had his number. He’d been too distracted to do what he would’ve done in any other instance. If anyone but Maggie had shown up that day.
“No. But I brought her an espresso and vanilla tart from Mae’s.”
His mom glared at him from under long, dark eyelashes.
“If you think that’s acceptable, especially when you shoved your agenda in her face while she’s here to grieve and clean up her father’s legacy, then you’re not the man I thought you were, Bennett Tucker.”
Jax just laughed and sat in a rocking deck chair.
“Don’t look so pleased with yourself, Jax. I’ve got my own bone to pick with you,” Grace said, removing the steaks from the grill and turning it off.
