Banshee looked up at her, his tail wagging in agreement.
She shook her head and headed back inside.
“I’m worried about him,” Scarlett said. “He’s always been the serious sort but—”
“He’s so sad.” Renata sighed. “And you’re sad.” She stood, hugging Tandy close. “I can’t stand it.”
Scarlett joined in the hug. “Me neither.”
Tandy hugged them back. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just tell us how to fix it.” Renata’s gaze searched hers.
“Renata’s right, Tandy. You and Click have been dealt a raw deal your whole life. It’s time to find the good—ya’ll deserve it.” Scarlett let go, stepping back. “I know you’re not one for believing in signs, but maybe you and Click being here at the same time will give you—”
“A second chance,” Renata filled in.
“No.” Scarlett shook her head. “I was going to say a chance to make amends for whatever happened.” She paused. “If you change your mind, decide you want to talk about it, we’re here.”
Renata nodded.
Talking about it wouldn’t do any good, of that Tandy was certain. She’d never confided in her cousins. Besides the time and distance between them, she and Click had cooked up some silly idea about getting her cousins and Lynnie together after the baby was born—a reunion and celebration. A way to introduce their new family to those who mattered most to them. Instead, she’d been too devastated to reach out, to share or talk about it with anyone. And her mother, so ashamed and disapproving of Click, said they’d never talk about it. It was over and done and nothing good ever came from talking.
There was no point in talking about it now.
But maybe Scarlett was right. She and Click had shared something no two people should have to go through. She blew out a slow breath. But assuming Click’s sadness was about them seemed self-centered. “He’s got a lot on his plate,” she said. “Something tells me this is about his here and now, not what happened in the past.” Pearl was pretty concrete evidence that he’d moved on.
“His here and now does seem all over the place,” Renata agreed, sliding back into the recliner. “Why is my head still hurting?”
“Tequila,” Tandy reminded her. “Let me find my pain reliever. You’re going to need it for tonight.” Uncle Woodrow was notoriously loud, even louder in a crowd.
“Yes, please,” Renata agreed.
“I hope Click will join us tonight,” Scarlett said, sweeping the wood-planked floor. “After his company leaves.”
“Could be Pearl’s mother,” Renata suggested. “Is he married?”
“I don’t know,” Scarlett said, glancing her way.
Tandy shrugged. She had no idea. After her mother had chased him out of her hospital room, she’d blocked every thought and memory of Click Hale from her mind. She’d had to. What he’d done to survive the days, weeks and months since then was his business. Considering he’d fathered a child, he could be married. But he’d said Pearl didn’t know him... Not the words of a man with a stable family life.
Tandy’s gaze traveled out the window to Lynnie’s house. Who was Click expecting? And, if it was a woman, would she have light brown eyes—like Pearl?
* * *
CLICK STARED AT the sheet of paper. One page, no addendums or stipulations. No notes or cover letter. Lynnie’s will was as straightforward as she’d always been. And, in this moment, he’d never loved her more. She’d given him what he’d never dared to hope for: a home.
“Sign there.” Kevin Glenn, Lynnie’s lawyer, pointed at the tabbed line on the bottom of the paper. “She put in those oil well pumps a few years back, out of necessity. She didn’t like them, but she couldn’t bear to lose her land. And, since she couldn’t see them, it was hard to argue with the checks rolling in each month.”
Checks rolling in each month.
That was his, too. His and Pearl’s. Fifteen hundred acres of property. A freshwater spring. A herd of Spanish goats, one donkey, two horses, a solid barn and a relatively new tractor. And six oil wells, bringing in more than he’d ever make working his ass off.
“You look a little green, Click.” Kevin Glenn clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m taking it you’re surprised?”
He nodded at the well-wrinkled man in the battered cowboy hat. “Yes, sir.”
“You should know how proud of you she was.” Mr. Glenn tipped his hat back on his head. “I know it tore her up to have no kids of her own. But that’s how she thought of you. Her nephew, your pa, was a sad disappointment. You’ll forgive me for saying so.” He hesitated.