“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He turned to find Tully staring at him with the same look of disappointment Dawson had given him.
“Why didn’t you tell me that it was your truck my daddy saw leaving Mickey’s that night?” she asked in a low voice he could barely hear over the shouts of firemen and firewomen rushing around. “Why didn’t you tell me it was Dawson driving?”
He was too numbed by the night’s events to lie. “Because I didn’t want you running to your daddy. And that’s what you’re going to do, isn’t it, Tully? You can’t help yourself.” He knew he was being an asshole, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. His emotions had been all over the place tonight and there was no way to corral them now. “Because when it comes right down to it, neither one of us has really changed. I’m still a Hennessy Hooligan—shit follows me wherever I go. And you’re still the town do-gooder—who can’t help but tattle. So run to daddy, little girl. I’m tired of being your dirty little secret.”
She stared at him for a long moment before she spoke. “I think Dawson had the right idea.” She flipped him the bird. “Fuck you, Jaxon!”
Like Dawson, she walked off and never looked back.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Her grandparents’ farm was the place Tully always went when she was feeling hurt and lost. The quaint country farmhouse that always smelled like fresh sheets snapping in the summer breeze was her refuge in a storm. Her anchor in life’s angry sea.
As she parked in front of the porch and got out of her SUV, she spotted Birdie on Tully’s granddaddy’s old tractor in the field to the south of the house. Since it was June, planting season was over, but seedlings and early blooms needed to be monitored for pests like thrips and plant bugs.
Tully waited until Birdie made the turn at the end of a row before she lifted her hand and waved. Birdie waved back and headed toward the house, stopping the tractor at the edge of the field and hopping down. As she made her way to Tully, she pushed back her straw hat and wiped the sweat from her brow with the bandana she’d pulled from the back pocket of her overalls.
“Damn, it’s a hot one. It’s going to be a tough summer.” She stopped in front of Tully, her eyes narrowing. “What brings you out to the farm?”
Tully swallowed hard, but the lump that had been there since last night refused to budge. Thankfully, Birdie didn’t need words. She stuffed the bandana back in her pocket and hooked an arm around Tully’s waist.
“Let’s go get some iced tea.”
While Birdie poured tall glasses of iced tea, she chatted about the weather, crops, and her broken air conditioner. It wasn’t until they were sitting on the porch in the white wicker rockers that the conversation turned serious.
“I’m guessing your visit has something to do with Honky Tonk Heaven burning down again.”
Tully opened her mouth to reply, but all that came out was a sob.
Thankfully, Birdie wasn’t one to freak out over tears. As always when Tully was upset, she just sat there rocking back and forth, waiting for her to cry it out. Once Tully was down to soft hiccups, she handed her one of the napkins she’d placed on their tea tray and spoke.
“I know you had some grand fantasies about the dancehall, Tallulah Grace, but it’s just a building.”
Tully dried her cheeks, then blew her nose, before picking up her glass of iced tea and taking several deep gulps. When she’d delayed long enough, she finally turned to her grandmother and spoke. “I gave the Hennessys money from a second mortgage to continue renovations.”
Birdie didn’t show any signs of disbelief or anger. She just sighed and continued to rock. “Hmm, well, I guess losing your house would make anyone want to cry.” She cocked an eyebrow. “Or is there another reason for those tears? Like maybe Jaxon Hennessy?” When Tully didn’t say anything, she nodded. “After seeing the way you looked at him in town the day he gave me the goose egg, I figured that was bound to happen.” She leaned back in her chair and took a sip of her iced tea as she looked out at the field of green cotton plants. “You ready to talk about it or you want to let it simmer inside for a while longer?”
Since letting it simmer inside hurt like hell, Tully didn’t hesitate to answer. “I’d like to talk about it.”
“Then shoot.”
Tully proceeded to tell her grandmother everything. Or not everything. There was no way she was going to talk about sex with her granny. But she told her everything else: how she’d offered Jaxon the money and how they’d started texting every day so she could be involved with the renovations. How much she’d learned about renovating a bar and how much she’d enjoyed being part of every single decision.
“Sounds like you’ve been a busy girl.” Birdie eyeballed her. “And a happy one. I don’t ever remember you talking about your deputying job like you’ve been talking about Honky Tonk Heaven.”
She swallowed hard. “I’m thinking about quitting my job with the sheriff’s office.”
Again, Birdie didn’t look surprised. “Your daddy know?”
“Not yet. He doesn’t know about Jaxon either.” She hesitated. “I think I might love him, Granny.”
“And does he love you?”
Tears threatened again. “I don’t know.”
Birdie sighed. “Well, that is quite the mess, isn’t it? Of course, life is messy. Always has been and always will be.” She set down her empty glass and stood. “Now I need to get back to work.”
