Texas Hope: Sweetgrass Springs Stories (Texas Heroes Book 16) by Jean Brashear Page A

brother.”
    “Actually, he does. Half-brother, that is,” Michael said.
    “How? He—” Her eyebrows flew. “Sophia? She’s…your mother?”
    “Yeah. But I didn’t know about Ian or that she was married before my dad, not until very recently when my dad passed away.”
    Rissa whistled between her teeth. “Does Ian know?”
    “He does now,” Mackey replied.
    “And he’s not happy about it,” Michael added. “Not that I blame him for practically throwing me out the door. It’s a hell of a shock.”
    “Ian was rude to you? Our Ian?”
    Michael smiled. “Apparently he’s not usually like that.”
    “That’s an understatement. Ian never loses his temper.”
    “Look, I really don’t blame him. Maybe there was a better way for me to break the news, like a letter or something. I just—when I finally knew where he was, I jumped the gun. I’ve wished for a brother my whole life.”
    “Your mother never told you…”
    “I found out by accident. She’s very unhappy with me for wanting to meet Ian. But that’s tough.” He grinned, and Rissa gasped.
    “You have his dimple. And his eyes.”
    “Her eyes,” Michael said.
    “I don’t remember her. I was a baby when she left. He never talks about her. I guess we all thought she was dead or something.”
    “Very much alive.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure what to do now.”
    “He’ll cool off. Honestly, he barely has a temper. We don’t ever see it. And he’s the best. A really good guy,” Rissa reassured. “He’ll be fine.”
    “I need to give him space, I think. I was on my way out of town when I met Mackey.”
    “You could stay here tonight.”
    “I’d better not. I want a long-term relationship with Ian, and I already got off on the wrong foot. Once I treat your colt, I’d better make myself scarce.”
    Mackey glanced over his shoulder. “Uh, about that. I think you’re too late.”
    “Why?” Michael turned and followed the direction of his gaze.
    “Because that’s Rissa’s brother Jackson’s Range Rover, and Ian’s in the front seat.”
    “Oh, boy.” Then Michael chuckled.
    Because, well…what else was there to do?

    Sophia Cavanaugh stood near the foot of the wide staircase in her pristine white foyer and stared out of the beveled glass on the massive front doors.
    This place that once been her refuge, had so soothed her soul, felt too close now, too cold, too…
    She halted before the family portrait over the fireplace in the family room, taken when Michael was twelve.
    He had Ian’s dimple.
    “Oh, Ian…” His name came out a strangled, anguished whisper. She pressed a fist to her chest, just over her heart. She hadn’t let herself say his name in so very long, but he was always there in the space between thoughts, a ghost of memory. Of regret. Of a sadness so deep she could not live if she let it in.
    I have a brother, and you hid him from me. Do you know how many times I would have sold my soul not to be alone? Not to carry the full weight of Dad’s expectation and yours? Just to have someone who understood me, who could—
    Michael was so very angry with her. Her son had never looked at her like that, disgust laced with frustration, anger, fathoms-deep and rich with temper.
    You lied to me. All. My. Life.
    He was gone now, too, straight out this very front door, righteous anger his shield and his sword, all of the minutes and hours and days she’d spent trying to protect him from the past, from the young woman who’d been so weak. Who had run from a good man, from all that was missing inside her, from—
    She doubled over from the pain of her loss. That sweet, bright boy who’d loved her with a child’s pure heart—
    Until the day she’d left him. She covered her eyes with one hand, wrapped the other arm around her middle. All the memories she’d had to lock away to keep from screaming roared back now.
    Gordon. Her cowboy. So at ease on his land, so perfectly suited to his life. Gordon had roots deep as