Page 3 of Sweet Beginnings

“Not me.” Preston smiled. “I was perfect.”

Rachel rolled her eyes at him and then her face stiffened. “Seriously, maybe we should make some phone calls. Friends, Ray, make sure she’s all right.”

“She’s a grown woman who has worked this ranch for longer than any of us have been alive, and running it just fine without Dad. I’m sure she’ll be here any minute and laugh off our concerns.” Carson’s words painted a picture of a calm, unconcerned son, but the look in his gaze and leaving a drink unfinished spoke volumes to just how concerned he was about their mother’s tardiness. What in heaven’s name could she be up to?

“Loud noise reactivity. Perceived confrontation. German Shepherd. What time?” Sarah Sue Conroy tapped the pad she’d used to scribble data on the most recent dog needing to be homed. Even with years of experience as the foster coordinator for a non-profit military canine organization, thanks to an onslaught of military working dogs recently coming through the system, her usual sources for fosters were growing slim. There had to be an answer and she’d better find it before Tuesday morning at zero nine hundred hours when this poor boy’s last chance for being homed ran out. A few more details and requisite polite exchange of weather, family, and allergy season, and she disconnected the call, bringing her laptop screen to life.

“I have to run.” Her father grabbed a protein bar off the counter and shoved it in his jacket pocket, then casually pilfered one, then two, of the chocolate chip cookies she’d made earlier in the day. “Mary Mahoney has finally gone into labor for real.”

“Finally?” Sarah had been daughter to a country doctor long enough, and spent enough summers playing receptionist and aide to know almost as much about medicine as her father—though every med school in the world would probably disagree with her. Still, even she knew that every pregnant woman eventually had a baby.

“She’s ten days overdue and every time Braxton Hicks start she’d be in my office convinced this wasthetime.”

“How do you know this isn’t another false alarm?” As sure as she knew her name was Sarah Sue Conroy, she knew there would be a definitive answer.

“Heard it in her voice.”

Andthatwas why her dad was so very good at what he did. She still remembered the time that Mrs. Harper had called to tell the doc that she was having strong twinges and was going to climb into the tub to relax before the main event. When her husband called back an hour later in a panic, her father told him to hold the phone close to his wife’s face so Sarah’s father could listen. A few long moments later and the well-loved old doctor informed Mr. Harper not to wait for him, but rather to take his wife to the hospital and don’t worry about the speed limits, the sheriff would understand. An hour later, Faith Harper was born.

Her father paused long enough to kiss her on the temple. “It’s nice to have you back. Not much about the chaos in today’s world I’m happy about, but at least one good thing has come from it. If the business world’s acceptance of folks working from home means having you here instead of Austin, then it’s a welcome change. Love you.”

“Love you too. And it’s nice to be back.” In the half a dozen years since she’d moved to Austin, she hadn’t realized just how much she missed living in a sleepy town. Apparently, she missed it all a lot. A whole lot of lot. Especially chatting over dinner about anything from Mildred McEntire’s latest bedazzled outfit, to who’d won that day’s corn hole match at the park, to the latest fight at the town council over their beloved town of Honeysuckle, Texas. Nary a week went by when there wasn’t a disagreement of some kind between the faction who wanted to promote the honeysuckle arts and crafts that filled the Main Street shops with everything from candles to potpourri, and the faction who felt being corn hole capital of Texas was the bigger advantage for promotion dollars. But if her new working arrangements panned out, fingers crossed, maybe, just maybe, she could move home for good.

“Odds are I’ll be home late.” Her dad stood at the open front door. “First babies usually take their sweet time. If I am, you go ahead and take the casserole out of the oven and invite yourself over to the Sweets. Alice would probably enjoy the company. Even though it’s been over a year, she’s still a bit out of sorts over losing Charlie, not that she realizes it.” He pressed his lips into a thin line and shook his head with a sigh. “Anyhow, company would do her good.”

“Will do!”

The front door closed in the distance and Sarah pushed to her feet. A casserole dinner with Miss Alice would be way more fun than eating alone, waiting for her dad to come home. Besides, she hadn’t seen any of the Sweets since Charlie’s funeral. It was a miserable reason to come home and she’d barely had any chance to say more than “I’m sorry for your loss” to the people who had been like a second family to her for most of her life. Maybe she could even dig up a bottle of Abigail Fine’s honeysuckle wine to go with dinner.

According to the oven clock, dinner would be ready in thirty minutes. Enough time for her to get a little work done. Alice Sweet had done such a great job with her son’s dog, maybe she would have a few suggestions for Sarah. She’d opened a new browser and watched the swirly thing spin when another thought smacked her upside the head. Why not ask Ms. Alice if she would be willing to take on another troubled dog? After all, if she was left alone to rattle around in the big house, a new dog could be just the ticket. That is if Brady and the foster could share Alice and the house. It was the perfect solution really. Therapeutic companionship for everyone. Yes. The more she thought about it the more she was sure this would be the answer she needed. Now all she had to do was convince Alice Sweet.

Chapter Two

“Oh my. This is beautiful.” Liz Klein, Alice Sweet’s middle sister, lifted the item out of the box and held it up for her sister Vicki to see. Only Vicki’s gaze was locked on the phone in her hand. “What’s more interesting than this?”

“Alice still isn’t answering her phone.” Vicki looked up at her sister and smiled. “It is pretty.”

“Pretty?” Liz shook her head and gingerly set the bean bag holster around her hips, snapping the front closed. “It’s almost too pretty to sell.”

“What?” Vicki looked up from the phone again.

Exasperated, Liz placed the custom-made holster back in the shipping box. “You’d think this was the first time our baby sister has ever not answered her phone.”

“No, but she hasn’t worked with the cattle since the kids were old enough to help Charlie. This is the first time she’s been out working the ranch instead of one of the hands. Ever.”

The way her sister emphasizedevergave her pause. Serious pause. “We should have closed the shop and gone to help.”

Vicki shook her head. “You know she wouldn’t have stood for it. This is the biggest season of the year for us with the annual championship coming up and bringing extra tourist dollars.”

“About that.”

Vicki tapped at her phone and grunted something that sounded similar to ‘yeah.’

“We should enter this year.”

“What?”

“You and I are the best corn hole players in the state and you know it.”

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