Her Heart for the Asking (Book 1 - TEXAS HEARTS) Read online

  "It had been years since I'd seen your mother. I was just outside Philadelphia for a rodeo. I was sitting there at some diner reading the morning paper over breakfast with some other cowboys when I saw you staring up at me from the newspaper. You were standing beside your mother and your piano instructor, getting ready for a recital. I saw those big brown eyes and knew without a doubt you were my daughter."

  Mandy laughed through the tears. "I remember that day. I'd never seen a cowboy before. I remember thinking you were so big with that black cowboy hat and boots you always wore. I was so afraid to talk to you. You told me not to be afraid, that you were my uncle from Texas."

  The corners of Hank's mouth lifted into a wide grin. "You didn't even question it. You just asked me where Texas was like it was a million miles away. When I drove out of Philadelphia that day it sure felt like a million miles."

  "You gave me a yellow rose to bring on stage when it was my turn to play and told me to smile pretty, that you'd be standing in the back of the room listening. And you did, because I watched. After I was done playing, mom asked me where I'd gotten the pretty rose and I told her you gave it to me and that your name was Promise just like mine. I thought she'd faint right there."

  Hank shrugged. "It wasn't exactly the smoothest way for me to introduce myself into your life."

  Mandy also recalled how for days afterward she would go to bed and hear her parents argue endlessly. She'd felt guilty and asked her mother if she'd done something wrong for talking to Hank because he was a stranger and was that the reason they were arguing. She said no, that I didn't do anything wrong. But she explained how Uncle Hank was not really a relative, but instead a good friend of the family that she hadn't seen in a long time. Her mother also said she'd probably be seeing more of him and that Mandy should still call him Uncle Hank.

  After that, Hank would come to visit for birthday parties or special occasions and her parents fought for days afterward. Then never kissed and made up the way she always thought grownups kissed and made up when they had fights. Then at the end of the 4th grade, just before she went to Texas for the first time, her father didn't talk to anyone for a week. When she boarded the plane with her mother, he just looked at her and told her everything would be okay when she came home. And it was. It always was.

  "I never wanted to cause any pain to you or your folks, Mandy. I just..."

  "I'm glad I know the truth," she said, thinking back over all the fights and all the bad feelings until they rolled into one big blur. "And you don't have to feel guilty about me finding out. Mom must have wanted me to know someday. Otherwise, why would she have given me your name?"

  A fresh set of tears stung the inside of her eyelids, spilling down her cheek. Hank kissed her forehead and squeezed her tight, holding her in silence for a long moment.

  "I meant what I said, Uncle Hank. I need my father in my life."

  "You have a father," he interjected quickly. "I can't take any credit for raising you or making you into the woman you've become. Sometimes I think it would have made things a lot easier for all of you if I'd stayed away."

  "I'm glad you didn't. I can't imagine not having you in my life."

  "You're not angry then?"

  "No, not angry. To be honest, I don't know exactly what I feel. I'm a little numb. But it explains a lot. Like why I could never do anything completely right in my father's eye. To him I could have always done better. Maybe I could never live up to what he wanted because I wasn't...really his daughter."

  "Stop that. He loves you and raised you like his own. Having his blood wouldn't have changed things. It's just the kind of man he is. He's always going to be your daddy."

  "I know that. But you still have a special place in my life. That's why I don't understand why you won't have the surgery. Why? Whatever relationship we have is ours and ours alone, no matter how it's defined. You're an important part of my life and I don't want to lose you. Do you regret what happened with you and mom?"

  "Never. It brought you into my life. But I sometimes regret how things ended for us. Your mom used to be...happier. She was a different woman when I knew her. Sometimes I wonder about things, but that can drive a person crazy. How do you go back? Which part of who you are now would you give up to go back and fix things? I love Corrine different from the way I loved your mother, but still as special."

  Hank drew in a deep breath and was quiet a moment, just staring at her face. Mandy wondered what he was thinking as he looked at her for the first time, knowing she knew the truth.

  "So much of this has been playing through my head these last few days," he said. "I couldn't face going under the knife without you knowing. Except I gave your mother my word..."

  Mandy sat up in bed, swiped the tears from her cheeks and looked squarely at him. "Well, now I know. And you didn't break any promises to Mom. I'm going to be right here with you and Aunt Corrine while you have your surgery. Please...please say you'll have it. I can't lose you."

  He gazed at her for a short while, his eyes waging war with fear and regret and renewed hoped. "Okay, doll. I'll do it."

  Hank was asleep when she left his room. Corrine was waiting by the door. In her hands was a dishrag she was winding tighter than a toothpick.

  "Call Dr. Cookman and tell him Hank will be in the hospital early tomorrow for the surgery," Mandy said.

  The relief on her aunt's face was instantaneous. She held Mandy's gaze for a long moment, but didn't ask the question written in her eyes.

  Mandy nodded. "He told me the truth."

  Wrapping their arms around each other, they sobbed.

  #

  Chapter Nine

  A short time later, Corrine was settled in with Hank. An ambulance was due to pick Hank up at sunrise to take him to the hospital. Her uncle may have been the one who was ill, but her aunt was emotional exhausted.

  Mandy was spent, too, but she couldn't go to sleep now if she tried. Hank was going to have surgery. He was going to be all right. It was a tremendous relief. But she couldn't feel any of it just yet.

  Which part of who you are now would you give up to go back and fix things? Mandy couldn't get Hank's words out of her head.

  These feelings she had for Beau were just as strong as they were eight years ago. At times, she thought they were more so. But maybe they couldn't go back either. They'd both changed and grown into two different people. Her life was now in Philadelphia. In a few short weeks when Hank was on his feet again, Beau would go back to the rodeo to compete for the world championship. It had been his dream.

  She walked down the dirt path to the bunkhouse, chiding herself for needing to see Beau. The sounds of male bonding on the inside of the bunkhouse drifted out into the night air. This wasn't her place, but she knocked anyway.

  "What's wrong, Mandy?" Beau asked, greeting her at the door with arms opened wide. Just for her. Thank God he was here with her. She'd held it together as long as she could, but now her head was swimming.

  Her father wasn't really her father. Hank was the man responsible for bringing her into the world. It explained so much. And yet...oh, God, the life as she knew it wasn't anything she thought it was at all.

  She slipped into his arms naturally and held on. He smelled fresh and clean from the showered he'd taken earlier when they'd come back from the cabin.

  Mandy glanced past Beau's shoulder and saw the hands seated at the card table. Bottles of beer were lined up in a row. In the center of the table was a pile of dollar bills and loose change. Each hand had their own stash by their side.

  "Can you get away for a walk?" she asked, looking up at Beau's face. She knew the ritual of cowboy poker. Today had been a particularly hard day physically and emotionally for the hands and the family. It was a way for them to regroup. Beau was part of this ritual even if she wasn't.

  "Just let me get a sweater for you. You look cold," Beau said.

  She wasn't cold, but she realized then that she was shivering. She'd left Hank's room without a
thought to where she was going and ended up at the bunkhouse. She'd been hoping Beau hadn't turned in yet. She needed to have him hold her, needed to be comforted by his embrace and his strength.

  She turned away from the doorway and heard Beau tell the hands to deal him out of this game. After a few rumbles and groans, Beau was by her side, draping a denim jacket over her shoulders. She leaned her cheek into the soft cotton and inhaled the smoky scent, still lingering on the fibers after burning mesquite the other day.

  They walked in silence, seemingly following the moonlight. Each intake of breath propelled them forward until they ended up by a grassy clearing beyond the calving barn. The sounds of crickets and horses filled the air around them.

  "Everything all right with Hank?" Beau finally asked, dropping to the ground. She followed him and he immediately enfolded her in his arms. Memories of Beau holding her earlier in the day filled her head. They'd been so good together, so right. How could she suddenly feel so disjointed?

  "He's sleeping. Aunt Corrine is with him, too. I hope she gets some sleep herself, she looks like she's about to collapse. He's finally agreed to have the surgery," she said quietly, her bottom lip trembling. She wasn't sure if it was from relief or from fear. Or maybe because of the news she'd just learned.

  The heavy sigh of relief lifted his chest, squeezing her in his tight embrace. But Mandy didn't mind at all. If she never left Beau Gentry's arms, she'd die a happy woman. She forced away the nagging reminder that crawled to the surface of her mind that they would soon be going their separate ways.

  "There's more." This time the trembling of her lips accompanied a fresh set of tears brimming in her eyes.

  Beau tipped up her chin. "What is it? What's wrong?"

  Mandy couldn't seem to get the words past her throat. It had been easier to confront Hank. She wasn't sure why. Maybe because there'd been so much at stake. But now...

  "Hank is my father, Beau."

  Silence.

  "Did you hear you hear what I said? All this time I've been trying to please my father, not getting his approval for anything, when I always had the approval of my father. Hank is my real father."

  "I know."

  Shocked, she blinked away the tears and glanced up at him. "You-you know?"

  He nodded.

  "But how did you... How long have you known?"

  He held her gaze even as he hesitated. "Eight years."

  Pulling from his embrace, Mandy abruptly stood up, brushing the wet blades of grass from her jeans. "You knew the truth all this time and you never told me?" she said accusingly.

  Beau remained in place on the grass, leaning back on his arm as he looked up at her. "It wasn't for me to tell. That was Hank's secret."

  "Did...did Hank tell you this?"

  "No, my father did."

  "Your father? How would he know?"

  "Who knows. He probably hired a private investigator and was hoping to use that information to get back at Hank. He'd called it his ace in the hole against that thieving Apache. That's what he's always called Hank."

  "I guess that makes me the thieving Apache's daughter. I was your ace in the hole?" she said bitterly.

  "No, never!"

  In the moonlight, she could see he was angry. He got to his feet and stood directly in front of her.

  "I told you I never did anything to hurt Hank. My father wanted me to dig up dirt on him. Said if he couldn't find something that would ruin the ranch, he'd find something more personal to ruin Hank with. I didn't believe my father's accusations so I told Hank what my father was planning to do."

  "And he didn't deny it," Mandy said quietly, nibbling on her bottom lip to steady it.

  "No. I wasn't about to let my father's viciousness hurt you, Mandy. Don't you see, I wasn't working in cahoots with my father. I came out to the ranch to learn as much as I could about bronc riding. Because I loved being here. Hank has given me a lot. I owe him. But anything I took from him he gave willingly. I'm grateful for him for all he's done."

  "If you could go to Hank with this, why couldn't you tell me?"

  "You're talking about something different here."

  "Am I? You made me think we were a lie. You told me you didn't love me and you were only using me."

  "You know how much I regret that."

  "That's not the point. Regardless of your loyalty to my uncle...my father, oh, God, you didn't have to lie to me, Beau. Not about us."

  "Yes, I did."

  "Why? I just don't understand it."

  "My father was so bent on destroying Hank in any way he could. It had been his obsession ever since Hank bought this spread. Mike Gentry didn't care if he alienated his own sons in the process, much less the daughter of the man he hated most in the world."

  "Still-"

  "You needed to learn the truth from Hank, not me. And certainly not in any way my father would have represented it. And I guarantee it wouldn't have been pretty."

  "I found out anyway, Beau. Eight years of time lost..."

  Tears clung in her eyes and she fought not to break down. Beau had told her at the airport there were only two things Hank had ever asked of him. Was this the first?

  "Beau, did Hank ask you to leave me?"

  Beau's silence was her answer.

  Mandy buried her face in her hands, unable to keep her raging emotion at bay.

  Beau gripped her by the shoulders, forcing her to look up at him.

  "Hank asked you to leave me?"

  "He didn't do it to hurt you, Mandy. He only wanted to spare your feelings."

  "He knew how crushed I was when you left and-"

  "Even if he hadn't, it still wouldn't have changed anything. I still would have gone on the road without you, Mandy."

  She sobered with his words, tears streaming down her cheeks. He hadn't really loved her. That's what he was saying right? And if that were true, what was all this that was building between them now? She wrenched herself from his grip and took a wide step backwards.

  "What was I supposed to do, Mandy?"

  "You knew how I felt about you."

  He nodded, a pained expression clouding his strong features. He looked broken. "You were so young. You know it was only a matter of time before we'd have taken things too far. I couldn't look at you without my heart pounding out of my chest so bad I couldn't breathe."

  "So you made a choice and I wasn't it."

  "You were sixteen, Mandy. Only sixteen! You kept saying you were going to run away with me. You had everything ahead of you and I had nothing to give you. Nothing but a gypsy life on the road. You could never live like that."

  She chuckled dryly. "Beau, you never asked me if that was what I wanted."

  "I didn't have to. No matter what you were saying, sleeping in a truck and living on the road, wondering if I'd have made enough money from the next rodeo to keep us going wasn't the kind of life you would have been happy with."

  He jammed his fingers through his thick hair and looked away, muttering an oath under his breath.

  "You never asked me, Beau," she said quietly.

  "I had nothing to offer you."

  "You were all I wanted."

  "Maybe right then. But in time you would have wanted more."

  He heaved a sigh. "I met Hank when he just got off the road from rodeo. I'd been about ten years old then and he'd just bought the Double T. I hated him for it because suddenly all that attention Dad had for me was focused on what he called some thieving Apache who stole his land.

  "After one day in particular, when Dad begged off a fishing trip with me and Cody for the umpteenth time so he could meet with yet another lawyer, I decided to take my horse out to the Double T to see what was so special about it that it took Dad's every waking thought."

  She folded her arms across her chest and waited of him to speak.

  "It was this gorgeous day after a string of lousy weather. Just perfect for being outside in the sunshine. I rode out to the top of the hill on the edge of our spre
ad and looked around. It was real pretty land, but nothing better than what we had and I couldn't figure out why my dad wanted it so badly. Or why he'd let it get in the way of us. I rode onto the Double T and thought I was being quiet and sneaky, thought no one saw me trespassing. But then Hank came up alongside me out of nowhere."

  Beau laughed in remembrance. "I was terrified, thought I'd really be in deep muck for trespassing. But Hank just said it was a beautiful day for riding, asked me if I wanted to join him while he checked out the pasture where the cattle were grazing. I felt stupid, and feeling a little low as I was, I said yes.

  "Anyway, while we were riding, Hank didn't say a word. I was sure he was going to ream me at some point and was just torturing me with his silence."

  Mandy couldn't help but chuckle at that. Hank had a good way of letting you know what he was feeling just in a single look. He was also a true cowboy. Words were only spoken when necessary.

  "But he never did," Beau continued. "And then I did something really stupid. I asked him why he stole my father's property. It was a stupid question because it was never my dad's to begin with, but Hank didn't make me feel stupid. He just said that my dad could have had it if he'd have wanted it bad enough. Hank had wanted it bad enough and that's why he got it."

  She tried to think back on that time. When Beau was ten and she was only six. That was right about the time Hank had come into her life.

  "I asked him what made him want it that bad. He told me about traveling around with the rodeo and not having a home, living in run down motels and eating when you could in the front seat of a dusty old pickup. It's no life for someone who needs a home. But someday, you want to stop roaming and find that home. Someday, no matter how much you love the road, something makes you stop and want to settle down.

  "So one day after school I came by when I should have been home doing chores. Hank had just finished riding a wild young bronc. I was so amazed. He said that if I wanted to ride, I had to want it bad." Beau shrugged. "I didn't know anything about getting on a horse that wasn't broke. But Hank said to come on over and he'd teach me everything I needed to know."

  She smiled at that, trying to imagine a ten-year-old Beau riding for the very first time.