At Bluebonnet Lake (Texas Crossroads Book #1): A Novel (22 page)

He turned northwest on highway 27 and drove for a few miles farther. Though neither one spoke, Kate did not mind. The silence was companionable, and it gave her time to speculate about the surprise Greg had planned. When the main highway veered to the right, he stayed straight. “Close your eyes,” he said when they’d traveled perhaps half a mile, “and don’t open them until I tell you. I don’t want to spoil the surprise.”

“We must be almost there.”

Greg nodded. “Smart as well as beautiful. You’re the perfect woman.”

Kate felt her pulse accelerate. He was joking, of course. Matching his tone, she said lightly, “Only if I don’t peek.”

“True. Now close them.”

Though she hated riding without being able to see where she was going, Kate complied. She felt the vehicle turn left, then slow. A few seconds later, Greg stopped, turned off the ignition, and walked to Kate’s door. Opening it, he helped her climb down, then said, “You can look now.”

She stared, amazed by the parklike setting with the standing stones. “Stonehenge!” There was no mistaking that circle
of vertical stones and lintels. Kate had seen dozens of pictures and had told herself that her first European trip would be to England to see the famous monument along with the sights of London and Bath, but she’d never expected to find anything like this here. “I thought I was in Texas.”

Greg wrapped his arm around her waist and gave Kate a little hug that sent frissons of delight down her spine. This was like holding hands at the bluebonnet festival, only better. “They call it Stonehenge II,” he said. “It’s not as large as the original, but you’ve got to admit that the trip was a lot shorter.”

“With no need for a passport or airport security.” She matched Greg’s carefree tone. The truth was, she felt carefree. Carefree, relaxed, and happy. “It’s not just closer. There’s a bonus. I don’t think the original has those.” Kate pointed at sculptures whose distinctive shape appeared to have been inspired by Easter Island heads. Taller than the standing stones, the heads seemed to be either guarding Stonehenge or serving as an entrance to the monument.

“That’s true. You won’t find them in England, but this is Texas, and anything’s possible.”

Including an afternoon highlighted by a javelina, fantastical sculptures, and the most intriguing man she’d ever met. Kate darted a glance at the man who’d occupied so many of her thoughts. He was looking at her as if trying to read her mind. To cover her confusion, she studied the park. With the Guadalupe River on one edge and the verdant hills in the background, it was an ideal spot for almost anything, including a replica of one of England’s most famous monuments.

“I want to take some pictures.” Kate reached into her bag, then pulled her hand out, shocked to realize that the phone was not there. “I can’t believe I forgot to bring my phone.” That would never have happened at home. But then, if she’d been at home, she would not have neglected to turn it on the
day she’d gone to the bluebonnet festival. In fact, there would have been no need to turn it on, because she never turned it off in New Jersey.

Greg appeared amused by her admission. “It must be contagious. I used to carry my phone everywhere—and I mean everywhere—but since I’ve been in Texas, I find myself forgetting to take it when I leave Rainbow’s End. Fortunately, I remembered it today.” Greg pulled it from his pocket and made a show of switching it on. “Let me get a picture of you next to one of those Easter Island heads.”

Kate tipped her head to one side, pretending to ponder the idea. “Only if you let me take yours by the other.”

“Deal.”

When they and the large heads had been suitably photographed, Greg turned toward the circle of stones, taking Kate’s hand. It seemed natural to be walking hand in hand, as if they’d done it a hundred times. Familiarity mingled with novelty as Kate savored the sensation of having her hand clasped in Greg’s. His was larger, firmer, stronger, and when he laced his fingers with hers, she felt as if she were being protected. Since she’d become an adult, she’d never been conscious of seeking protection, and yet there was no doubt that this felt good. More than that, it felt so right that she wished the moment would never end.

“Who’s responsible for this?” she asked, once again trying to mask her emotions.

Greg swung their hands lightly, as if he too enjoyed the link. “Two men,” he said as they approached the standing stones. “Doug Hill gave his friend Al Shepperd a slab of stone he had left from a project. One thing led to another, and Al and Doug realized they could re-create Stonehenge.”

“It’s impressive, but it’s a strange thing to see in the middle of the Texas Hill Country.”

Greg stopped to take a picture of Kate standing by one of the lintel-topped stones. “Not as strange as Carhenge in Nebraska. At least we’re not staring at spray-painted old cars.”

“I’ve seen pictures of that, and you’re right. This looks like the original.”

“Stand over there.” Kate feigned a model’s pose, not expecting Greg to take a picture. “You’re going to regret that,” he said as the camera whirred. “I’m going to give Sally an eight-by-ten glossy of her granddaughter pretending to be a cover girl.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Greg grinned. “How much are you willing to pay me not to?”

“Unfair! You know I can’t offer you anything you don’t already have.” Oh, how good it felt to be joking with this man. Kate amended her earlier assessment. She didn’t simply feel carefree; she felt as if she were floating on air, and it was all because of Greg.

“Don’t be so sure that you have nothing to offer,” he said, “but since you refused to bribe me, you have to listen to the rest of my lecture.” He straightened his shoulders and peered at her, as if he were looking over half-glasses. “This might resemble the real Stonehenge, but there are a couple critical differences,” Greg said, as solemn as any professor Kate had encountered. “These are only 60 percent of the height of the original and 90 percent of the width. More importantly, only two are actual stone. The rest are made of plaster over metal mesh. In other words, they’re hollow.” When Kate raised a brow, Greg tapped one. There was no mistaking the sound.

“Definitely hollow,” she agreed. “How did you learn all that?” There was a sign at the entrance, but neither of them had taken the time to read it.

Greg shrugged. “The internet. What else would you expect of a self-confessed nerd?” He slid his phone back in his pocket and linked hands with Kate again.

“This whole place is incredible.” Almost as incredible as being with him. “How long has it been here?”

“Right here, only a few years. It was first built around 1989, but after Shepperd died, his land was sold, and the new owners wanted to tear the stones down. The local arts foundation decided it was worth salvaging and relocated it here.”

“I’ll bet that’s one time they were glad the stones are hollow.” Still, it had to have been a massive undertaking, even with the reduced weight. Kate looked around and smiled. “This was fun. Sally will be sorry she missed it.”

But, as dearly as she loved her grandmother, Kate didn’t regret the time she’d been alone with Greg.

P
erhaps he was being selfish, but Greg wasn’t sorry that Kate’s grandmother hadn’t come, with or without Roy. He had included her in the invitation because it would have been rude not to, but he’d been relieved when she’d refused. The twinkle in Sally’s eye when she’d claimed that playing backgammon with Roy was more important than taking a country drive had made Greg wonder if she realized that he was hoping to spend more time alone with Kate. It was true that they were alone when they played tennis and on the nightly walks around Rainbow’s End that he found so pleasant, but this was different. This qualified as a date, even though he hadn’t phrased the invitation that way.

Greg almost laughed out loud, thinking of the other women he’d dated and the way they would have reacted to a walk through a Texas park, even if it did have a replica of Stonehenge. Those women had expected to be escorted to trendy restaurants, preferably ones where paparazzi stalked the rich and famous.

After one particularly boring evening when a woman whose name he’d forgotten the next day asked him if he knew Bill Gates, Greg had announced to Drew that he was done dat
ing. He was tired of being a meal ticket. That was humiliating enough, but he knew that the women had seen him as more than a meal ticket. In their eyes, he was the ticket to a life of leisure. They were shopping for rich husbands the way Greg’s sisters shopped for shoes.

Kate was as different from those women as the Hill Country was from the California coast. Greg frowned at the comparison. It wasn’t a valid one, because both the Hill Country and the coast were wonderful, each in its own way. The dating situation was different. While Greg’s former dates might not have been wonderful, Kate was. She was warm and caring. She was . . . He struggled for the word, then nodded as he found it. Genuine. Kate was genuine. That was why she was able to enjoy a Sunday drive and a walk in the park.

“I’m glad you’re having fun. So am I,” Greg said, tightening his grip on Kate’s hand. It felt so good, holding it, feeling the warmth of her palm against his. Holding hands might not be sophisticated—he’d never done it in California—but it felt more than good to have Kate’s hand in his. It felt right. Everything about today felt right. The drive, the park, just being with Kate. Even though there were other tourists, laughing and snapping pictures of the stones, some attempting to climb them, Greg felt as if he and Kate were in a world of their own.

As if to prove him wrong, his phone chimed. Though he was tempted to ignore it, he pulled the phone from his pocket and glanced at the ID.

“Go ahead and answer it.” Greg might be annoyed by the interruption, but Kate didn’t seem to mind.

He frowned. “I’m not sure I want to. It’s a text from my sister.” He could guess the content. For the past couple of years, it seemed his sisters wanted only one thing from him: money. Even when they visited him in California, instead of savoring hot fudge sundaes at Ghirardelli or enjoying a trip to the Monterey
Bay Aquarium as they once had, they had turned their visits into shopping marathons.

“Your sister?” Kate raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t narrow it down too much. Which one?”

“Emily. She’s the third.” His favorite of the four, although Greg would never tell her that.

“The twenty-year-old.”

Greg was surprised Kate remembered that. “You have a great memory.” It was part of what made her unique, the fact that she seemed to care about who was who in his family rather than the size of his investment portfolio.

Greg opened the message and frowned. This was one time he wished he hadn’t been right.

“Something wrong?” Kate asked.

“She wants me to send her some money. Apparently Emily is convinced that life as we know it will end if she can’t go to the Caribbean with her friends.” The message was couched in Emily’s typically dramatic terms, including phrases like “absolutely must go” and “trip of a lifetime.”

As a light breeze blew a few strands of Kate’s hair onto her face, she brushed them back. “I probably shouldn’t point this out, but I doubt the world’s end will be triggered by your sister missing a trip.”

Greg nodded. “I know. I just hate to say no.”

“Why?”

Though they’d continued to wander around the circumference of the standing stones, Greg stopped and stared at Kate. No one had asked him that. It was, in fact, a question he hadn’t asked himself. “I’m not sure. It’s probably because I remember what it was like growing up and not having all the things the other kids did. My parents were struggling to make ends meet, so I wore no-name sneakers when everyone else had Nikes.”

Kate nodded as if she understood. “Peer pressure can be
rough. I remember when I was eight years old. I wanted a Barbie dollhouse more than anything I could imagine. I was convinced it was the most wonderful thing in the world and that I would be doomed to a life of misery if I didn’t have it.”

She sounded like Emily. The difference was, Kate had been eight, while Emily was twenty. “What happened?”

“I hadn’t saved enough money to buy it, so I asked Grandpa Larry. He was always a softer touch than Sally.” Kate’s smile was fond, as if she were remembering happy moments she had shared with the grandfather who’d been a surrogate father.

“And he bought it for you.”

To Greg’s surprise, Kate shook her head. “He didn’t. It was early September. School had just started, and one of my friends showed me her dollhouse. That was how I learned about it. Anyway, Grandpa Larry told me that if I still wanted it in three months, he’d make sure one was under the Christmas tree.”

This time Greg thought he knew where the story was heading. “And by December you’d found something else you wanted even more.”

“Exactly. My grandparents were firm believers in not spoiling children.”

Something in her tone made Greg pause. He watched a boy and girl who didn’t appear to be more than seven or eight chase each other around the stones. Though he was no expert on children’s clothing, even Greg knew that what they were wearing was not the latest style, and yet they seemed happy.

“Do you think I’m spoiling my sisters?”

“Only you can judge that.” Kate gave Greg’s hand a little squeeze that made him realize she was confident he’d analyze the situation correctly. Instead of the disparaging remarks that had once been so common, she offered him approval. “What would your parents have said if you weren’t in a position to write a check and Emily asked them for the money?”

“Get a job and earn it.” The response came instinctively, a reminder of the many times his parents had said that to him.

“It’s not bad advice. I think we all appreciate things we’ve worked for more than ones that are handed to us.”

Kate’s words triggered a new set of memories. “You’re probably right. I still have the bicycle I paid for. I haven’t ridden it in years, of course, but I wouldn’t let my father give it away.”

His father groused about the space it was taking up in the garage every time Greg was in Orchard Slope. Perhaps he should have it shipped to Rainbow’s End. One of the guests might enjoy it.

Kate tightened her grip on his hand. “Do you want to talk about him?”

Greg blinked at the question. “Who do you mean?”

“Your father.” The look Kate gave him was warm and reassuring. “Your expression changes every time you mention him. I don’t claim that I can help, but I’m willing to listen if you want to talk.”

He didn’t want to talk about Linc Vange. Not today. Not ever. Greg started to tell Kate that and then reconsidered. With just a few sentences, she had helped him reevaluate his relationship with his sisters. Perhaps she could help him deal with his father.

“There’s not a lot to say,” Greg told her as they continued to stroll around the standing stones. “I wasn’t the son he wanted. In his day, my father was a sports star, and he expected me to carry on the Vange tradition. I didn’t. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to or that I didn’t try. I just couldn’t. He never let me forget that I was a disappointment.”

Greg wouldn’t tell Kate that his father had called him a failure. Some things were best left unspoken.

Kate looked up at him, her eyes shining behind the dark lenses of her sunglasses. Greg hoped those weren’t tears he was
seeing. “He must be very proud of you now,” she said, making it a statement rather than a question.

Greg shook his head. “If he is, he’s never told me.”

The way Kate’s lips thinned told him she was upset. “Maybe he assumed you knew. I never heard Grandpa Larry tell Sally he loved her, but I never doubted it. I could tell from the way he looked at her and the things he did for her.”

“My father’s not like that.”

“Are you sure?”

Greg wasn’t. He stared into the distance for a moment, wondering if this was another thing he needed to reevaluate. Had he missed signals? Was it possible that he’d clung to the past and hadn’t considered that both he and his father had changed? Greg wasn’t certain. What he did know was that this woman was wonderful.

Impulsively, he wrapped his arms around Kate’s shoulders and gave her a hug. “Thanks, Kate.”

Kate could not recall a day she’d enjoyed more. It had had its solemn moments when she’d talked about her job and Greg had wrestled with his sister’s request for money and his father’s apparent disapproval. But even though they hadn’t been as light and carefree as the rest of the day, Kate couldn’t regret those moments, for they’d given her and Greg the opportunity to learn more about each other. And with each new facet she uncovered, Kate found herself more intrigued by him. He was a wonderful man who’d overcome so much. She said a silent prayer that he’d find a way to make peace with his father.

Kate smiled. The bluebonnet festival had been fun, but today was even better, because she and Greg were alone. Even though she knew her grandmother would have enjoyed Stonehenge, Kate was glad that she hadn’t had to share the afternoon with Sally and Roy. It had been special, playing tourist with Greg.

They’d wandered around Stonehenge for an hour or so, looking at the stones from every possible angle, taking dozens of pictures, laughing at the antics of two small children who wanted their parents to place them on top of one of the lintels. Now they had found their way back to the Easter Island heads and the entrance to the park.

“If you’re hungry,” Greg said as they approached his SUV, “there’s a little place I heard about on the outskirts of Kerrville. Don’t tell Carmen, but it has a reputation for the best barbecue in the Hill Country.”

“That sounds delicious.” Kate would have said the same thing if he’d suggested sauerkraut on cinnamon rolls. It had been only a few hours since she’d thought Sally would be content eating melba toast and water if she was with Roy. Now Kate felt the same way. The menu didn’t matter as long as she was with Greg.

Kate smiled at the realization that she’d never felt this way with either Pete or Lou. She’d gone to Broadway shows and A-list restaurants; she’d even been to black-tie receptions at prestigious art galleries and opening night at the Philharmonic. Those had been pleasant ways to spend an evening, but nothing compared to today. Simply strolling through a small park in Texas, her hand clasped in Greg’s, was more exciting, more memorable than the elaborate dates she’d had in the past.

It took only a few minutes to reach the restaurant. As they pulled into the parking lot, Kate felt mildly disappointed. The exterior of the restaurant was unimpressive, a simple log cabin with one of the metal roofs that were so common in this part of the state.

“Don’t judge a book by the cover, and don’t judge this by the outside,” Greg said as he helped her out of the vehicle. He draped his arm around her waist, drawing her closer to him.

Instinctively, Kate stretched her arm out and wrapped it around Greg’s waist, bringing them even closer together. The restaurant might not be impressive, but it felt so good—so right—to be walking with Greg, matching her steps to his, listening to the soft sound of the breeze rustling through the leaves. Their boot heels clattered on the wooden ramp leading to the front porch, causing a bird to flap its wings and utter a warning cry as it flew away. Kate smiled. It was a typical evening in the country, and she was enjoying every minute of it.

As Greg opened the door, the aromas that wafted out erased her concerns and told Kate the restaurant’s reputation was well-deserved. The interior was as nondescript as the exterior, with bare walls and rough-hewn tables covered with oilcloth. But the tantalizing aromas of spicy sauces and a wood fire combined with the contented sounds coming from the other patrons left no doubt that Greg had chosen well.

It took only a few minutes to be seated and an even shorter time for their orders to arrive. When Kate bit into the barbecued beef sandwich, she knew that Carmen had stiff competition. The food was simple but well prepared, with side orders of coleslaw and French fried sweet potatoes complementing the tender beef and tangy barbecue sauce. Washed down with sweet tea and followed by peach ice cream, it was a meal Kate knew she’d never forget.

“This was wonderful,” she said as she and Greg emerged from the restaurant. “It was the perfect ending to a perfect day.”