Buttercup Farms, page 1
Buttercup Farms
Carolyn Brown
New York Boston
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2023 by Carolyn Brown
Excerpt from Texas Homecoming copyright © 2022 by Carolyn Brown
Cover art and design by Sarah Congdon. Cover images © Shutterstock.
Cover copyright © 2023 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.
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First published as an ebook April 2023
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ISBNs: 978-1-5387-2404-0 (ebook)
E3-20230307-NF-DA-ORI
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
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Chapter One
Lucas Ryan’s mama, Pearl, had a plaque on the wall that read, Home is where the heart is. He wasn’t sure if that was true where he was concerned. He’d been roaming around the world for the better part of twenty years now, and if he had a motto, it would probably be: Home is where you hang your hat.
Lucas had always been more comfortable with horses than with people—even with his two brothers, Jesse and Cody—so he had mixed feelings about moving back to Honey Grove, Texas. Visiting the family was great, but after a few days, the wanderlust started calling his name again. Sometimes he stopped by the ranch in between his gigs as a trainer for cutting horses, and even though he hung his hat on the rack beside the back door, it still didn’t seem like home.
He had planned to move back to help his brothers on the family property, the huge Sunflower Ranch, back in the summer, but then a six-month job that paid so well he couldn’t turn it down had come up. Now he had an offer to go to Ireland—one of the places on his bucket list—to work for a year. As he hooked up the horse trailer to the back of his truck, he wondered if he really wanted to put a few more dollars in his already fat bank account or if it was an excuse not to move back to Honey Grove. For a long time, he had told himself that he wanted to learn more about training horses before he went home. There was always some new technique to pick up. Lately, though, he had felt a yearning for more than bachelorhood when he spent time around his two older brothers and their wives.
The time had finally come when he had to either sign on the dotted line for the Ireland job or else make good his promise to go home. As luck would have it, his brother Jesse had called him a couple of days ago and told him how much the family was looking forward to having him on the ranch during the holiday season.
“We can sure use some help around here,” Jesse had said. “With the holidays coming on, a lot of the hired hands are wanting to be with their families, and it’s stretching us out pretty thin. I don’t want Dad to think he needs to go out in the cold in his condition.”
“I’ll be there soon as I can,” Lucas had promised, and a Ryan didn’t go back on his word even if his hand itched to sign a contract.
Lucas hunched his broad shoulders against the howling wind and held on to his hat. A strand of light brown hair fell across his forehead. He removed his hat, combed his hair back with his fingertips, and resettled the old worn black hat that had been with him for more than a decade more comfortably on his head.
“Am I doing the right thing?” he asked himself as he headed back to the barn to get his horses. On one hand, he couldn’t wait to get to Sunflower Ranch, to have some of his mama Pearl’s cooking, visit with his father, Sonny, and see the rest of the family. Then there was the other side that had been fussing at him about a trip to Ireland, a place he’d always wanted to see.
In his mind, he knew that commitment to family would put him on the ranch forever, and to a drifting cowboy that was more than a little scary. Lucas wasn’t sure that he was—or ever would be—ready to put down roots. According to the rancher in Ireland, the job was his anytime he wanted it, so even though he was going home, he could keep that on the back burner.
His father had MS, but he was managing it, and Jesse and Cody were there to take care of the ranch, so when it came right down to the brass tacks of the issue, Lucas wouldn’t really be needed at the ranch when the holidays were over. Addy, Jesse’s wife, was a nurse, and she took good care of his father. Cody’s wife was a veterinarian, and both she and Addy were good ranch hands. They were all getting along fine without him living on the place.
Maybe it was the crow’s feet around his eyes that reminded him he wasn’t getting any younger and made him think—even for a minute—that he was ready to settle down. Or it could be the fact that he had begun to get pretty danged homesick for the first time in all the years he’d been gone.
I want to be there for Dad, but I feel like a fifth wheel when I’m around Jesse and his family, and Cody and his new wife, Stevie, he thought. I’m not sure I’m ready to settle down to a family or even if I want one, but the yearning is there.
If you are arguing with yourself, you better be careful. His father’s voice popped into his head when he entered the barn and headed back to the stalls where Winnie and Buttercup were waiting.
“I don’t know if I’m ready for this or not, but I can’t disappoint the folks another time. Besides, Jesse and Cody shouldn’t have to bear the entire burden of taking care of the ranch. It wouldn’t be fair for me to inherit the same portion as they do if I don’t help,” he told Winnie, his Appaloosa horse as he tossed a bright blue blanket over the animal and fastened the straps under her belly. “It’s a little warmer than this in north Texas, and when we get to the Sunflower Ranch you will have a really nice barn to stay in when the weather is bad, and a big pasture to run when the sun is shining.”
When he led Winnie out of the barn, he saw the foreman of the Pine Valley Ranch leaning against his truck’s back fender. Lucas hated goodbyes. He thought he had taken care of all that the night before when he and his bunkhouse buddies had shared a few drinks and promised to stay in touch.
“Any way I could talk you into sticking around?” Eddie asked. “I’ll double your salary if you’ll sign on for another six months.”
“I appreciate the offer, but my folks are expecting me to be in Texas by suppertime.” Lucas busied himself getting Winnie into her side of the double trailer and making sure she was comfortable before he closed the door.
“Well, son,”—Eddie straightened up and stuck out his hand,—“you’ve got a job here any time you want or need one. We’ll miss you.”
“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.” Lucas shook with him and appreciated the fact that the man just turned and disappeared into the darkness without trying to talk him into staying for breakfast.
He went back into the barn, flipped a red blanket over Buttercup’s back. He had chosen the two Appaloosa horses to train as therapy horses a few years back because they were so good with children. After he bought them, he’d accepted only jobs that he could drive to and bring his horses with him. But the Irishman had offered to pay for his horses to be transported across the Atlantic and give them free room and board on his ranch—that made turning the job down even tougher.
“If all goes well, we’ll be in Honey Grove by suppertime,” he said as he fastened the blanket and led Buttercup out of the barn. “This could be the last time you have to get into this trailer. Hopefully, by springtime there will be some little kids that will come around to get acquainted with you.”
He took time to close the barn door, and then he and Buttercup walked out across the crunchy, frozen grass together. When she was tucked into her side of the trailer, he took out his phone and checked off the list that he kept for the days when he left a job. Saddles were in the storage room at the front of the silver trailer. His personal belongings were in duffel bags in the ba
The wind whistled through the cab of the truck when he opened the door. He quickly slid under the steering wheel, slammed the door shut, fastened his seat belt, and started the engine.
“Just another place to leave behind,” he whispered around the lump in his throat. Lord have mercy, he hated making friends and having to say goodbye. He removed his cowboy hat, laid it over on the passenger seat, and smiled.
“Right fittin’,” he whispered, “a pickup truck has been my home for almost two decades, and other than dozens of bunkhouses, my cowboy hat has ridden beside me every mile. It’s where I’ve hung my hat, so I probably should call it home.”
He adjusted the rearview mirror and stared at his reflection for a moment. The eyes were the same light brown as they had been almost twenty years ago when he had left Honey Grove to go to Wyoming to work on a horse ranch. His hair—blond or brown, depending on who was judging—was a little longer than it had been back then, but he hadn’t been in the military like his oldest brother, Jesse. Ranchers didn’t care if their hired hands had a crop of hair that hung down their backs, if they were bald, or even if they had a mixture of both. Lucas smiled at his reflection when he thought about Buster, one of the guys in the last bunkhouse, who had only a rim of gray hair that was so long that his braid reached halfway down his back. He glanced down at the dashboard—six-thirty a.m., December 10—not quite two weeks until Christmas.
“Enough procrastinating,” he told his reflection. “You are going home whether it’s where your heart is. Your traveling days are over, and you’ll be hanging your hat in the old bunkhouse where you will be living alone.”
By the time he reached Erin, Tennessee, a beautiful sunrise filled his side window. Of all the things he missed about Honey Grove, Texas, the sunsets were what he missed the most. He and his dad had spent many evenings out behind the barn—sometimes not saying a word—and enjoyed the beauty of the land as the sun made its nightly descent out there beyond the scrub oak and mesquite trees.
“I’m hoping that we can have more days like that while he’s still able to enjoy them,” he said as hooked up his phone to Bluetooth and listened to his playlist—a combination of old country songs that he’d grown up hearing and the newer ones that he liked.
When he reached Interstate 40 and made a turn toward Memphis, “Sand in My Boots” was playing, and Lucas nodded in agreement with lyrics when they mentioned that all the vocalist was taking home was sand in his boots.
“I may not have been to the beach, but all I’m taking home is worn-down-at-the-heel boots and a nervous stomach at the idea of settling down,” he muttered.
His hat didn’t have anything to say about that, so he settled in for the long nine-hour trip. Before he had gone very far, a few snowflakes began to swirl around and shoot up past his windshield—nothing to be worried about. They brought back memories of the times when they gotten snow in Honey Grove. Hard winters meant freezing weather and ice, but seldom snow.
He visualized his dad standing at the kitchen window and saying, “Boys, we’ve got snow. It’s just a flake to the acre, but it’s sure enough snow.”
Lucas had seen real snow in his travels since those days. He’d seen snow that was belly deep on horses in Wyoming. On the flip side, he had ridden through sandstorms in Arizona, and he had spent time on every continent in the world. Still nothing compared to a Texas sunrise or sunset—winter or summer—in any of those places.
Maybe the reason for that is because you shared so many with your dad. His mother’s voice whispered so softly in his ear that he whipped around to see if she was sitting behind him.
“Maybe so, Mama,” he said.
* * *
On some days, Vada Winters swore she would never forgive her ex-husband, Travis, for leaving her and their then three-year-old son, Theron. Other days, she was glad he was gone. If Travis couldn’t deal with Theron’s special needs and super intelligence, they were better off without him. But, boy, it was exhausting some days to handle everything on her own.
Since their divorce seven years ago, her ex had moved to West Virginia, remarried, and started a new family. He still paid child support, but he hadn’t come around to see Theron or even called to talk to him in all those years.
Of course when Theron was having a bad day, Vada wished that she, too, could run away from all the stress and anguish of not knowing how to help her son better fit into the world.
She took Theron’s bowl of dry cereal to him—no milk, no sugar, no fruit; just Cheerios in a bowl with a bottle of orange juice on the side. She went into his bedroom, and the blinds were closed. Only the light from his computer screen made it possible to see anything at all. His back was ramrod straight, and his eyes never left the screen. He wore sweatpants and a hoodie with the hood pulled up. Vada glanced down at his screen and it looked like his normal classwork, but today was Saturday.
“Good morning, son,” she said cheerfully.
“Mornin’,” he answered. “I’m researching ways to help kids like me who are really smart.”
“That’s good. Let me know if I can help.” She set his food down on the edge of his desk and left, easing the door shut behind her. The coffeepot had just gurgled out its last drops when she made it to the kitchen. She poured a mug full and sipped on it while she made herself a scrambled egg sandwich. She had just sat down at the table when someone knocked on the door, and a familiar voice yelled.
“Hey, Vada, it’s cold out here,” Stevie called out. “Can a wayfaring stranger find a warm fire?”
Vada hurried to open the back door. “Come in, girl. I’m so glad to have company this morning. Coffee is ready. Can I make you an egg sandwich?”
“I brought pastries from the doughnut place.” Stevie held up a paper bag and crossed the room to the table. She removed her heavy coat, hung it on the back of a chair, and poured herself a cup of coffee. Taller than Vada by several inches, Stevie had red hair and bright green eyes, and was married to Cody, the middle son in the Ryan family.
Vada opened the bag and put the pastries on a plate. “Thank you for these. You must’ve read my mind. I wanted a doughnut for breakfast, but I was too lazy to get dressed and drive up to Main Street to get one. What are you doing out this early on a Saturday morning?”
Stevie carried her coffee to the table and took a seat across from Vada. She blew on the hot liquid and then pushed a strand of curly red hair behind her ear. “Vet duty. Joe Don Clement’s old mare needed help to birth her colt. Little filly was healthy, and the mama took to her once it was on the ground.”
Vada sat down, ignored her sandwich, and picked up a doughnut with maple icing. “Sounds like you had a good start to the day.”
She and Stevie had gone to school together right there in Honey Grove and graduated almost twenty years ago. Vada had married Travis Winters, her high school sweetheart, right after they had finished college. Stevie had gone to a different university, and their paths hadn’t crossed again until this last year.
Aren’t you glad that she came back to Honey Grove, and y’all became good friends when you really needed someone? Vada’s grandmother’s voice popped into her head.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Stevie had dunked a maple glazed doughnut into her hot coffee and taken a bite. “I’m sorry. Did you say something to me?”
“No, I was talking to my grandmother,” Vada answered. “She was such a big part of my life until she passed away last year that I can still hear her voice sometimes.”
“I understand,” Stevie said with a nod. “My mother pops into my head all the time. I’m grateful for those times.”
“Me, too.” Vada bit into her doughnut and sighed. “This is still warm.”
“Yep, I brought it straight from the bakery to here,” Stevie said between bites. “There’s also a couple of bear claws and doughnuts with sprinkles for Theron.”
“I’ll offer them to him and hope that he will eat one. He’s on a Cheerios kick right now. Breakfast and supper. Dinner is a grilled cheese sandwich and a cup of hot chocolate. No vegetables and no fruit.”
