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A Texas Bond

By Shannon Taylor Vannatter

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Chapter One
“Great bones.” The upholstery tacks popped loose with a satisfying thwack, releasing dust in a cloud around Stacia Keyes’s head. She readjusted her mask as she pulled the ancient fabric and batting away from the wingback chair.
“What a beauty.” Daddy looked up from the bookshelf he was building out of old chippy-painted window shutters. “She’ll soon be regal again.”
“What do you think of this fabric?” Stacia laid the rose gold–and-taupe-striped upholstery over the back.
“Freshen the legs with mahogany stain, and she’ll be a perfect addition to 3 Gals’ Treasures.” Daddy used the nail gun to secure a bead board panel to the shutters.
Her mom’s dream antique and vintage shop—now Stacia’s since her mom and her sister were both gone—was in the heart of Medina, Texas Hill Country. Along with Daddy’s demolition business, the store specialized in repurposing salvaged materials.
“We have an update on heavy metal rock star, Ronny Outrageous.”
Her attention zeroed in on the TV as the breath stilled in her lungs. A picture of him in full Goth makeup popped up beside the blond news anchor. Daddy grabbed the remote, bumped up the sound.
“As we reported, last weekend Ronny Outrageous was in a deadly tour bus accident. His condition has continued to stabilize and the fan favorite was moved from the ICU into a private room today. Fans have flooded city parks across Los Angeles and his home state of Texas, holding vigil for the heavy metal singer.”
A shot of the accident site piled with cards, flowers and stuffed animals filled the screen followed by a clip of a crowd of well-wishers holding smartphones, swaying in unison.
“As #GetWellRonny trends across social media, fans hold placards of love and affection, waiting, hoping to be interviewed so the singer can hear their sentiments.”
The television went dark.
“That’s enough of that.” Daddy set the remote down.
“What if he comes for the twins?” Her greatest fear since he’d signed them over to her after her sister died three years ago.
“Don’t go borrowing trouble.” Daddy gave her hand a squeeze. “He signed away his rights. Twice. They’re five now. Since he hasn’t wanted them all these years, he’s not going to start now.”
“Facing death changes people.” Her voice cracked.
“Some folks are too selfish to change. He’ll recover and get on with his career.” Daddy went back to work on the bookshelf. The thwack of his nail gun filled the air for the next several minutes, and then he picked up the level, checking each side. “I forgot to tell you I saw Adrian at the grocery store the other day. He asked about you. Always does.”
“I don’t know why. He’s the one who broke things off.”
“It’s perfectly normal for a single guy to get nervous when the girl he’s dating takes on twins to raise. But things have settled down now. Maybe you could give him another chance.”
“He told me he wanted his own kids to raise, not someone else’s, Daddy. That’s pretty straightforward.” She hadn’t been serious about Adrian and never told him she’d inherited her mom’s heart defect. “I told you I was about to break things off anyway. We weren’t a good match.”
“You have no idea how proud I am of you for taking on the responsibility of raising Mason and Madison. I mean, at the tender age of twenty-five you took on not one, but twin two-year-olds and they’ve thrived in the past three years.”
“They’re my niece and nephew. Anyone would have done the same.”
“Maybe.” Daddy tested the stability and joints of the shelf. “But I want you to live a full life. To have a love like I had with your mother. God has someone for you, who will love you and the twins and be content without biological children. You just need to open your heart to the possibility.”
“I’m fine the way things are. I have the twins and you. That’s all I need.” But a pang settled in her heart the way it always did when she thought of never having cousins for the twins.
As a Christian, it wasn’t that she was afraid to die, but she refused to take the chance of leaving motherless children behind. Enough of that had happened in her family already.
“But I won’t be around forever and the kids will grow up and be gone some day.”
“Now you’re depressing me.” She ripped the final piece of upholstery off the back of the chair.
“I just don’t want you to miss out on your own happily-ever-after.” He touched her arm. “Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t take anything for you and the years we had with your sister. But I loved your mother and if we’d known back then about her heart condition, I’d have married her anyway and been willing to adopt.”
But Daddy was one of a kind. A man who’d raised two daughters alone, despite a manipulative sister-in-law. He could have handed them over to Aunt Eleanor and waltzed off into the sunset. A lot of men would have.
It was easier just to avoid men, not risk her heart, emotionally or physically.
“Just think about it.”
She nodded to appease him. But the most pressing thing on her mind was Ron having a change of heart about the twins. Her stomach clenched.
“That’s my girl.” He checked his watch. “Time to open.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I clean up.” She slipped her smock off. Thankfully, her capris and blouse were none the worse for wear. In the bathroom, she dabbed a wet washcloth over her face, attempting not to wash off her makeup, then soaped the grime from her arms and hands.
Leaving the back door of the workshop open for ventilation, she entered the front part of the barn that housed the store. Long aisles were packed with everything from a flat-bottom boat repurposed into a bookshelf to an old upright piano turned into a desk to various antiques and vintage furnishings.
Daddy perched on the stool behind the counter.
Every clock in the place chimed ten times as she hurried to unlock the front door and turn the open sign around.
Waverly Heathcott stood outside, waiting. One of their best and possibly richest customers, owner of the Texas Rose. Definitely the most put together.
While Stacia sported mottled skin with blotchy cheeks. A testament that Texas hadn’t caught on that it was almost mid-September and she was a natural redhead and didn’t perspire much. Her hair spilled from a messy bun with damp tendrils around her face. She blew a long layer out of her eyes. Oh well, she looked like she worked hard. Not everyone could be runway ready all the time like Waverly.
“Come in.” Stacia opened the door for her. “Sorry, we were in the workshop or I’d have let you in already.”
“No worries. I’m early. I was wondering how many—” Waverly stopped in front of a coffee bar constructed from an old door, a small table, spindles, and corbels. “Oh Stasha, I’m in love with this.” She tucked a strand of perfect blond hair behind her ear. “How many of them do you have?”
“Just the one at the moment.” No matter how many times Stay-shuh corrected her, Waverly continued to pronounce her name as if it rhymed with Tasha.
“They fly out the door as soon as I build them.” Daddy scratched his graying beard.
“I’m remodeling The Texas Rose.” Waverly continued on to the counter.
“Which one?” Stacia asked. Waverly had been a frequent shopper over the years as she'd opened each of her twenty shabby chic–style bed-and-breakfasts scattered across Texas.
“All of them. Could I get one of those for each room?”
Stacia squelched a gasp. “That’s one hundred rooms. Right?”
“Yes.”
“I’m afraid we can’t build them exactly the same.”
“Of course not. If I wanted carbon copies, I wouldn’t be here.” Waverly glanced around the store. “That’s what I love about this place, everything is unique.”
“Still shabby chic, right?”
“Definitely.”
Stacia grabbed her tablet from under the counter and pulled up an order form. “Ninety-nine shabby chic coffee bars.”
“In white with pink, blush, seafoam, lavender and yellow trim. I brought fabric swatches.” Waverly handed them to her.
“Great. Let’s go to my workshop to pick paint tabs and I need you to browse the warehouse with me, so I can get a feel for the types of materials you like.”
“My favorite part.” Waverly followed, glamorous in her white pants suit and spiked heels.
The bell rang and a man stepped inside. A handsome man. Close to Stacia’s age.
“May I help you?” Daddy hurried over.
Stacia ushered Waverly into the workshop. Half-finished repurposed projects dotted the space in the back of the barn, everything from a bistro table and chairs to a vintage sofa and a pile of claw-foot tubs needing resurfaced. The stuffy stillness made her regret leaving the door open. She shut it and turned the air conditioner on. The cool blast swept chill bumps over her.
“Sorry about the temperature. Even with the ventilation system, it gets so dusty in here, so I was trying to air it out.”
“It’s fine.”
Not just any customer was allowed in the workshop. But it wasn’t the first time Waverly Heathcott had strolled through it and the warehouse full of rusty metal gates, finials, vintage doors, windows and shutters. Though it had never happened, Stacia always worried she’d get a dry cleaning bill.
“Oh, I almost forgot what I came for. I also need one hundred claw-foot tubs. Is that all you have?” She pointed at the pile.
“There are five in the store already finished, plus these for a total of twenty-three.”
“Can you get more?”
“I’m certain we can. I’ll put a call out to vendors I know, but it may take time.”
“Is a month enough time?”
Stacia swallowed hard. “A month?”
“That’s my timeline for the remodel. I’ll be shut down for six weeks and I want everything in place before we reopen.”
“You want ninety-nine coffee bars and ninety-five restored claw-foot bathtubs in a month?” Stacia tried to calculate a schedule in her head.
“I know it’s a lot, but if anyone can pull it off, 3 Gals’ Treasures can.” Waverly flashed her best I’m-rich-just-make-it-happen smile.
“You came to the right place.”
Over the next thirty minutes, they picked paint and Waverly chose pieces and parts she liked for the coffee bars as Stacia snapped pictures and added details to the order. They agreed on a price and Waverly paid half down.
How to tell Daddy? Not only were they short-staffed, but she’d just agreed to an impossible order.
She led Waverly back to the store.
“Thank you, you’re a treasure.” Waverly gave her a quick hug. “I can’t wait to see what you create.”
“We’ll ship the bathtubs we have, and more as we complete them, so you’ll have time for installation. As we complete the coffee bars, I’ll send pictures for your approval.”
“I’ll love whatever you come up with. I always do.” With a wave, Waverly strolled to the exit.
As Stacia headed to the register, she saw the man. Still there. And completely focused on her twin niece and nephew who were now sitting behind the counter. Something felt familiar about his dark hair and features, paired with emerald eyes. A chill went down the back of her neck.
“There she is. She’ll be right with you,” Daddy said.
“Aunt Stacia!” the twins shouted in unison and rushed her.
“When did y’all get here?” She knelt to hug them.
“Aunt Larae dropped us off. She didn’t want us to get sick cuz Jayda started sneezing this morning,” Madison reported. “She said it’s probably allergies, but just in case, she brought us home.”
“Do y’all feel okay?” She pressed a palm to each of their foreheads. Both cool.
“Yep,” their voices blended.
Saturdays were a real challenge since her clerk had married her ranch hand and moved to Waco. Now that they were shorthanded, the twins often spent Friday night and the following day at her friend’s ranch. But sometimes that didn’t work out. Like today, making Stacia wish she and Daddy could leave the store in someone else’s hands and spend the day with them.
But weekends were always busy. The usual rush before and after lunch required two clerks in the showroom while Daddy helped customers load purchases.
“If you’ll be real good—that means no running, giggling or squealing—I’ll get Grandpa to take y’all to get ice cream.”
“Ice cream!” Mason jumped up and down. “Before lunch?”
“Just this once, we’ll have a late lunch.” She winked. “But that includes no jumping.”
Mason quickly stilled.
“We’ll be extra good,” Madison promised. “Won’t we, Mason?”
Mason nodded. Always the weak link. It wasn’t that he was bad. Just mischievous, full of energy and easily bored. Which usually got him in trouble. A lot like his mom had been.
She ushered the children ahead of her and they dutifully returned to their seats behind the counter.
Daddy hurried toward her, lowering his voice to a whisper. “He wants to talk to you. Hasn’t browsed or anything, just patiently waited for you. Maybe he’s here about a job. An answer to our prayers.”
“I hope so. Waverly wants the coffee bar and all five of the claw-foot tubs we have finished. Plus she ordered ninety-nine more bars and ninety-five more tubs.”
“That’s awesome.”
“She wants all of it in a month.”
“Tell me you didn’t agree to those terms.”
Stacia winced. “I’ve got a nice check in my pocket.”
“Aye yai yai. You better hope he’s here for a job.”
The man waited at the counter, his gaze still riveted on the twins. Nothing new there. Both strawberry blond, freckled, large blue-green eyes, obviously twins—carbon copies of one another except for gender. Double the cuteness factor.
“I’m Stacia Keyes.” She offered her hand.
He tore his attention away from the children. “Ross Lyles. Nice to meet you.”
The last name sent a jolt through her heart. No. Ron didn’t have any family.
Intense green eyes scrutinized her as his hand engulfed hers in a firm grip.
“Are you interested in the ranch hand position? Or the furniture handyman position?”
“Huh?” His gaze darted back to the kids.
“Do you have experience in either?”
“Actually both.” He cleared his throat.
Daddy chuckled. “You’re hired.”
“Daddy.” This guy was way too focused on her niece and nephew. “We usually get references on new hires.”
“I know, but we’re in a real pickle. Can’t afford to be too choosy.”
“Why don’t you take the kids to get ice cream? I told them you would if they were good in the store.” Both had been quiet as a mouse, staring back at Ross Lyles. She wanted them out of his sight. And rid of Daddy’s big mouth.
“Sounds like a plan, once Angel gets here.”
“Shouldn’t she be here by now?” Stacia checked her watch.
“She called, said her car’s still in the shop and her mom had to go in to work early, so she’s driving their farm truck and it didn’t want to start this morning.”
A pickup badly in need of a new muffler sounded out front. “Sounds like she just pulled up.”
“I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream.” Daddy waggled his eyebrows at the twins, eliciting a fit of giggles.
“Shh.” Madison caught herself, tried to shush Mason. “No giggles in the store or we don’t get ice cream.”
“I don’t think that rule counts when I’m the one who made you giggle.” Daddy came out from behind the counter. “Let’s go. What flavor do y’all want?”
“I want cotton candy.” Mason darted for the door.
“No running,” Madison cautioned. “I want bubble gum.”
“It was nice to meet you, Ross.”
“Likewise, Maverick.”
He was already on a first-name basis with her dad?
The door closed behind them. And only then did Ross Lyles’s gaze return to hers.
Was he somehow related to Ron? Here on a spy mission for him? Or was Lyles even really his last name? He could be some random nut who'd gotten wind of a scandal. An obsessed fan, reporter, or blackmailer. Foreboding crept up the back of her neck. She squelched a shudder. There’s no way she could hire him.
“I’m afraid I already hired someone for both positions this morning. My dad didn’t know, so I’m sorry if he got your hopes up.”
He did a slight shake of his head. As if to wake himself up from a trance. “I’m—”
Nothing else came out of his mouth. This guy was creeping her out. And there were no other customers in the store. Angel, the eighty-pound teenager, wouldn’t be any help, if she ever made it inside. Stacia needed to get rid of him. Fast.
*
Ross tried to focus. It was tempting to pretend he was here for the jobs. Since he’d worked at his grandfather’s ranch and his parents’ furniture store, he was qualified for both. And he had an inkling both positions were still open. If not, surely she’d have told her dad. Or at least taken the sign out of the window. And she wouldn’t have asked him about experience. But he’d already gotten her suspicious. Did she know who he was?
No. Ron hadn’t used his real name in years. Except maybe on legal documents. Like when he signed the twins away. They looked similar, but Ron wore thick black eyeliner and kept his dark hair dyed blue, which would throw anybody off.
So tempting to play his name off as a coincidence. Talk her into hiring him. That way, he’d have a direct window into her interactions with the twins.
“Can I help you with anything else?”
Best to come clean. “Are you familiar with the name Ronny Outrageous?”
She caved in on herself, as if someone had kicked her in the stomach. “Why?”
“Because he’s my brother.”
“Oh.” Something akin to fear shone in her pale aqua eyes.
“Last week, he was in a really bad bus wreck with an eighteen wheeler on the way to a concert.”
“I heard about it on the news.” She tried to recover, act all calm, cool and collected. But it was too late. Her reaction to Ron’s stage name told the tale.
“One long, dark, pain-filled night he made a confession to me. That he’d had a one-night stand which resulted in twins.” The more information he gave, the more certain he was that he’d found the right Stacia Keyes.
“That he signed custody over to the mother. That she died three years ago.” The children’s pale coloring had thrown him off since his family had olive skin and dark hair. “That her sister has them now. Sounding familiar?”
“What do you want?” She sank into a chair behind the counter, as if her legs would no longer hold her up, pushed damp, auburn tendrils away from her face.
“For now, I just want to get to know my niece and nephew.” To make sure they’re well taken care of. And if not, he’d fight for them.
She’d turned positively green and he felt kind of sorry for her. Whether she took good care of the children or not, she definitely loved them.
A bell rang at the front of the store and a teenage girl stepped inside. “Sorry, I’m late. That truck hates me.” Her gaze pinged back and forth between him and Stacia. “Is everything okay?”
“Fine. Daddy took the kids for ice cream. Could you watch the store for a bit, Angel?”
“Sure.”
“We’ll just be in the workshop.” She stood, motioned for him to follow.
At the back of the barn, they exited into a dusty space filled with tools, a worktable, project pieces. He couldn’t tell if they were in the middle of being put together or torn apart.
“He said he didn’t have any family.” She sank into a wooden chair, covered her face with both hands.
“We’ve been estranged for several years.” Since their parents had tried to get Ron in rehab, he’d wanted nothing to do with any of his family. So to him, he probably felt like a loner. He’d patched things up with them after his accident. Only because he needed someone to take care of him once he got out of the hospital. For the moment, he was clean. At least until he could get back out on the road.
Her hands dropped into her lap. “Does he want them back?”
“No. He wishes he hadn’t told me.”
She blew out a big breath, obviously relieved.
More than anything, he didn’t want to intimidate her. “But let me assure you, my folks would be very interested in the children.” He found a chair that matched hers, pulled it over and sat, so she wouldn’t feel as if he were talking down to her. “If they knew about them, that is.”
“They don’t know?”
“I thought I’d come check things out before I involve them.”
“Daddy and I have been a major part of their lives since they were born.” Fear took root in her expressive eyes. “They’re happy with us.”
“That’s what I’m here to find out.”
“And then what?” Her voice quivered.
“I don’t know yet.” It all depended on if the twins were well cared for. “What do they know about Ron?”
“Nothing much.” She stood, paced the trail between projects. “They asked once about a year ago. Daddy told them their father has a really important, time-consuming job.”
“I guess that’s better than saying he’s a self-centered jerk.”
“How long do you plan to stay?”
“I don’t know that either.” He shrugged. “However long it takes.”
“Don’t you have a job or someone to get back to?”
“I’m a furniture builder and designer at my parents’ furniture store in Houston. I told them I needed some time off.” They actually thought he was at his grandfather’s in Hondo helping out at his ranch. And with the store in high demand, the timing had been terrible. He’d seen it in their eyes; they thought he wanted to leave the business. Just like Ron.
As for someone, not anymore. Nora had accused him of seeing someone else for the last time. After her, he might not date ever again. Especially not anyone jealous, distrustful or insecure.

Staying definitely wasn’t on his schedule. He had to get back to Houston where his parents needed him, and he was eager to prove their fears wrong. He didn’t havetime to camp out in Medina and appease the twins’ aunt that he was an okay guy. But they obviously didn’t trust each other and how else could they ever work this out living four hours apart?
“Here’s an idea. I could work for you, building furniture or as a ranch hand or both since I have experience in both areas. While I work for you, I could get to know my niece and nephew. How does that sound?”
“Too good to be true. I mean—the part where you have experience in both positions I need to fill.” Her eyes narrowed. “For all I know, you could be a reporter sniffing out a story or a blackmailer for that matter.”
He slipped his phone out of his pocket, scrolled through it, then showed her a picture of him with Ron in the hospital. “Our mom took that. It had been several years since we’d been together for a photo op.” Ron’s typical makeup made him look even paler than normal.
“That doesn’t mean anything. You could be an obsessed fan who snuck into the hospital for all I know.”
“An obsessed fan who happens to have the same last name as Ronny Outrageous aka Ron Lyles?” He showed her his driver’s license. “And trust me, there’s no sneaking into that hospital.” Ron’s manager had hired security, but so far fans hadn’t figured out where Ron was. “Besides, if I were a blackmailer, I’d be talking to Ron. He’s the one with money and a potential scandal to hide.” He scrolled on his phone again. “Here, read the text with the photo.”
Here’s the pic I took of my two boys in the hospital. Does a mother’s heart good to have the two of you together again.
“Okay, looks like you’re who you say you are. But do you have a criminal record?”
“Good one.” He tilted his head back with a belly laugh. “I’m the older, wiser brother. I spent the first twenty years of my life cleaning up Ron’s messes. I guess I still am in a way.”
“My niece and nephew are not messes you need to clean up.” Her gaze hardened. “They’re children. And they’re perfectly happy without you.”
“That’s not what I meant. The situation is a mess. That he signed them away—twice.” He let out a heavy sigh. “And never told me or my folks they existed. Until a weak moment when he thought he was dying.”
Something in her eyes softened. “Just give me a chance to explain things to my dad. And if you’re serious about the job, you’re hired.”
“I am, but what about your new hires?”
Pink tinged her cheeks. “I made that up. You were freaking me out staring at the twins.”
At least she was protective. “What time do you open?”
“Ten and we stay open until six. Every day but Sunday. One or both of us are usually in the workshop by seven or eight.”
“I’ll be here. But instead of leaving and coming back tonight, what if I stick around tonight while you tell them?”
“I’m not comfortable with that.” She hugged herself.
“Well maybe I’m not comfortable leaving it to you. You might tell them I’m some ogre who’s come to take them away. Or smuggle them out of town and move somewhere else to keep me away.”
She got that deer caught in the headlights look for a moment. “I haven’t known you long enough to know if you’re an ogre or not and I’d be lying if I said running hasn’t cross my mind in the last five minutes. But only for a moment. This is their home and I’d never uproot them for a life of hiding, with legal consequences if we were caught.” She grabbed the broom, swept the dusty floor.
“If I was an ogre, I wouldn’t be here. I’d have contacted a lawyer and taken you straight to court for a custody battle. But I didn’t.” To be honest, if they were still babies, he probably would have. But the twins were five. “Their lives have always been here with you and your father as the two constants. I don’t want to disrupt that. Unless I find they’re not being well cared for or are abused.”
“I can assure you that’s not the case,” she hissed.
“All I want is to be part of their lives. I really think we can work through this very difficult situation together and do what’s best for my niece and nephew. And the first step to that is to tell them who I am.”
She closed her eyes, leaned on her broom. “Come to the house around seven tonight. That’ll give me time to talk to Daddy and you can have supper with us.”
“The farmhouse next door?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be there. But supper isn’t necessary. I don’t want to intrude.”
“You’ve already done that.” Her stiff posture was in full Mama Bear mode.
“This isn’t easy for me either, you know?”
“No, I guess it’s not.” She swept the pile of debris into a dust pan, dumped it in the trash. “Where are you staying?”
“I’m renting a nightly cabin in Bandera at the moment, but if I stick around very long, I’ll find something else more long-term.”
“I’ll see you at seven.” Her eyes said she hoped he’d move on. But he couldn’t. His niece and nephew deserved to know about him. About his parents. The twins had seemed fine in the store earlier, but he couldn’t be at peace until he knew for certain they were happy, healthy and loved. Somehow, he had to work this out with complete strangers.

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