Blame It On Texas (5 page)

“It was just a lucky guess.”

“What do you say, Dan?” Dustin urged, wanting his son to make a good impression, and hating himself for wanting to impress this woman.

“Thank you. A
lot.
”

“You’re welcome.” The smile she gave his son surprised him with its warmth. The visiting princess, dispensing favors to the little people. He wished the glamour girl would head back east, as far away from him and the boy as possible.

CHAPTER FOUR

“I
MISSED SEEING
Emily this afternoon. I need to call her tonight and see if she’s okay.” Kate dumped a stack of dirty paper plates into the plastic garbage bag and continued to clear the banquet tables. The ninetieth birthday party was over, the guests long gone, and three ladies from Gert’s church were cleaning up the kitchen. All Kate had left to do was take out the garbage and help her mother wipe down the tabletops.

“When’s that baby due?” Martha looked up from wrapping the leftover cake in plastic.

“Anytime now.”

“Same as Elizabeth. It sure was a hot afternoon to be nine months’ pregnant.”

“Yes, it was. Jake’s wife looked as if she needed a cool shower and a nap,” Kate said, remembering how easily Dustin had helped Elizabeth from her chair. She wondered if he’d helped Lisa when she was pregnant. And if he’d married her. “Jake wanted to stay and help clean up, but I
told him to go home and see that Elizabeth had some rest,” she added.

“We’ll have them out to dinner one night this week, unless she has the baby.” Martha finished packing the leftovers into a cardboard box. “There. All done. Now all we have to do is find your grandmother.”

“Last time I looked she was in the kitchen drying dishes.”

“I told her to do nothing but sit down and rest.”

Kate hid a smile and wiped off the last table. “She doesn’t take orders very well.”

“Neither one of you does.”

“It runs in the family.”

“Well, you didn’t get it from me. You and Gert are an awful lot alike.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” Her mother started to lift the cardboard box, but Kate stopped her. “I’ll take that.”

“Be careful,” she warned. “Hold it from the bottom.”

“I’ll put it in the car while you get Gran. And I’ll drive right up to the front door, so wait for me.” Gert loved big luxurious cars, said they made her feel like a movie star.

“Oh, my,” she said, ten minutes later as she settled herself on the front seat of the rented silver Lincoln. “I feel like Elizabeth Taylor. All I need is one of those big diamond rings.”

“Oh, Mother,” Martha said, chuckling from the back seat. “If you liked a big car so much, why didn’t you ever buy one?”

“Your father never would buy anything but a Chevrolet, Martha. You know how he was.” She peered out the window. “Are these tinted?”

“Yes,” Kate replied.

“Power windows?”

“Absolutely.”

“Just like Dustin’s truck,” Gert murmured. “I like riding in that, too.”

“He’s supposed to be working on the ranch,” Martha pointed out. “Not out joyriding.”

“I asked him to take me to town, Martha. I had some errands and—”

“I would have taken you,” her daughter insisted. “I ask you all the time, ‘Do you want to go to town, Mother?’ don’t I?”

“How is your car, Mom?” Kate attempted to divert the conversation. “Did you get those new tires you were—”

“I had private business,” Gert insisted, ignoring her granddaughter’s sigh. “Important business. In the library. And I wanted to see those villa places you’re always yapping about.”

“You went to see them?” Martha sounded almost delirious with relief. “Aren’t they going to be lovely?”

Gert turned around and frowned. “It’s a hole in
the ground right now, Martha. With cement. There wasn’t anything ‘lovely’ about it at all.”

“I showed you the picture.”

Gert waved to Kate. “Drive us out there, honey. We’ll take another gander at the place and see what it looks like. Your mother’s real anxious to get us a couple of rooms there.”

“Well, maybe we should do that another day,” Kate hedged. “You must be tired from the party. How about if we go to the Steak Barn for dinner? Do they still have those small filet mignons with the mushrooms and the baked—”

“I’d rather eat at home,” her grandmother replied.

At the same time Martha said, “That would be nice, dear.”

Kate wondered which decision would get her into the least trouble. She wanted to laugh, but didn’t dare. The familiar squabbling meant she was home again.

“It’s your birthday, so you decide,” Kate said, glancing toward her grandmother as she drove down Main Street. “We’ll go past the drive-in and then turn around and take you home. How about if we pick up a pizza for dinner and take it back to the ranch? We’ll go to the Steak Barn another night.”

“They do have an early bird special on Tuesdays,” her mother said.

“Good. Pizza it is,” Kate said.

“Better make that two pizzas,” Gert said. “The boys and I can have the leftovers for lunch tomorrow.”

“The boys?” Kate echoed.

“Dustin and Danny.”

“Oh.” So Gran fed the hired help now.

“He said he knew you when you were in high school.”

“Yes. A little.” She ignored the snort from the back seat. “How long has Carl Jackson been working on the retirement home project, Mother?”

“Not retirement homes, Kate,” her mother corrected. “Senior villas. ‘Independent living’ is the phrase that Carl prefers to use.”

“I’m living independently right now,” Gert said.

“Mom, I can’t believe you’d want to sell the house and move into a small place like that,” Kate said. She’d pictured getting married in that house. Imagined her children visiting their grandmother in the enormous yellow kitchen.

“Honey, can you turn the air-conditioning down? I’m one big goose bump.”

“Mother never feels the heat,” Martha said.

Kate obediently turned the fan to “low,” though the cold air blasting from the vents had been heavenly. She’d removed her jacket three hours ago and, even in a pink tank, had still been uncomfortably
warm. “I guess it’s going to take me a while to get used to the temperature again.”

“It’s not like this in New York?”

“Sometimes,” she said, stepping on the gas as they left the main part of town and headed north. “Maybe not this hot.”

“We have a nice breeze in the evening out on the ranch.”

She eyed the air-conditioning dial and wished she could turn it to “high.” “Your birthday party was wonderful, Gran.” She raised her voice. “Mom, you did such a good job putting the party together.”

“It was fun, wasn’t it?” she murmured, sounding pleased with the compliment. “I have the guest book, so we can look at all the names later. And there were so many cards!”

“I think I’ll put them in a scrapbook,” Gert said. “That way I can keep ’em nice.”

“Is this it?” Kate slowed down as they approached what used to be the drive-in. On the left side of the road was a large construction site and an enormous foundation.

“Yes,” her mother said, leaning forward to point to the cement structure. “Isn’t that going to be something?”

“It’s going to be something,” Kate remarked. “I’m not sure what, though.” Kate turned into the makeshift parking area, but didn’t turn off the engine.
Surely they wouldn’t want to sit here for more than a minute or two.

So much for the drive-in. The only recognizable fixture was the distant screen, its metal posts shining in the late afternoon sun. Her memories of this place were of sunset, waiting for the sky to darken enough so the movies could be shown. And then a broad black sky would surround them and the picture on the screen would practically pulse with color and then she and that young man she’d thought she was in love with would tumble into the back seat and pretend to eat popcorn until…

“—old enough to know my own mind,” Gert was saying, having turned around to face her daughter in the back seat. “Besides, I’ve got plans of my own,” she said.

“What kind of plans?” Martha asked. “I hope you mean you’ve decided to sell the ranch after all.”

“Sell the ranch?” Kate echoed. “Why would you want to do that?”

“My plans are my own business,” Gert said. “You’ll both know them soon enough, but I think it’s time I did something new. Something kind of exciting.”

“My ninety-year-old mother wants excitement.” Martha leaned against the back seat and closed her eyes. “Oh, Lord,” she muttered. “Give me strength.”

And give me a frozen margarita, Kate thought, turning the car around to head to the Lazy K. Add a pair of cotton shorts, a T-shirt and a view of the southwest grazing land and she’d be content.

“It’s good to have you home,” Gert declared, reaching over to pat her granddaughter’s arm. “New York is too darn far away.”

“Yes,” Kate agreed, heading toward town. “Much too far.” She hadn’t been home for six months and in that time, both of the women in her family seemed bent on making changes. Her grandmother wanted excitement and her mother wanted the local real estate developer. Everyone else was having babies—she’d seen no less than seven pregnant women at the birthday party—and the drive-in was going to house retired seniors who’d be too busy making quilts and playing cards to remember watching movies at the Good Night Drive-In.

“W
E NEED BEER.
” Gert shut the refrigerator and looked at her beautiful granddaughter. Kate had changed into a set of clothes she kept on the ranch, in the little bedroom that was always hers, and Gert thought she looked lovelier in those faded denim shorts than she’d looked in that black suit. She didn’t like Kate wearing black. It reminded her of too many funerals. “Don’t wear black when I die.”

“What?” Kate opened one of the pizza boxes and plucked a piece of pepperoni off the top and plopped it in her mouth.

“No black. It’s too depressing.”

Kate laughed. “I’m going to be depressed when you die, Gran.”

“Wear something pretty,” Gert said. “None of those city gal clothes.”

“Fine. No black suits.” She saw Kate glance at Martha, who was too busy reading the paper to listen to what was going on. Martha would no doubt have an opinion, and three women with opinions in the same kitchen was downright dangerous. “Who wants pizza?” She reached into the cupboard and brought out three plates.

“I do, but I want a beer, too.”

“Do you
have
any beer?”

“No. But I’ll bet my foreman does. Go over to the bunkhouse and see if he’ll loan me some.”

Martha looked up from the paper. “Mother, since when did you start drinking beer?”

“I don’t tell you everything,” Gert said. “Just because I’m ninety doesn’t mean I can’t have secrets.”

“Secrets, Gran?” Kate grinned at her. “Are you going to share?”

“Not yet. Go see Dustin, will you? And ask him and the boy back for pizza, too. There’s plenty here to go ’round.”

Kate hesitated, clearly displeased with the idea, which made Gert struggle to keep from chuckling.

“I’ll go out and buy some,” Kate offered, reaching for her purse.

“Nonsense. By the time you get back the pizza will be cold,” Gert insisted, enjoying herself. Oh, she remembered a few years back when Martha was worried about an eighteen-year-old Kate. When the girl was sneaking out to meet some young cowboy and upsetting her parents. Her poor father, Ian, had had his hands full that last summer.

“We don’t need beer,” Martha said, putting the paper down. “I’ll have a piece of that pepperoni pizza, Kate. Mother, why don’t you sit down and get off your feet? I’ll fix us a nice pitcher of lemonade.”

“Never mind,” Kate said, replacing her purse on the counter. “I’ll see if I can find Dustin.”

“Good. I’ve had enough lemonade for one day.”

Kate kissed her grandmother on the cheek as she headed past her toward the door. “You should have what you want on your birthday.”

“Well, for starters, you can settle down and make me a great-grandmother,” she replied, giving Martha a wink. “That’s what I’d like for my birthday.”

“When I find a man, you’ll be the first to know,” Kate promised. Gert watched her grand-daughter
leave the kitchen, the screen door banging shut behind her.

“She says there’s no one special in New York,” Martha said, coming over to take Gert’s arm. “Sit down, Mother. You’re going to give me fits.”

“There are good men here in town.” Western men. Texas men. Men who knew about the land. “She sneaked out with Dustin Jones that summer, didn’t she?”

Martha hesitated. “I never knew for sure. Then Ian died and Kate went off to college. There were rumors.”

“And you thought it was him she was seeing?” How very, very interesting…and convenient.

“For a while, until he got some waitress in Marysville pregnant.”

“Hmm,” was all Gert could say to that, but she frowned.

“I didn’t approve of Kate getting involved with a Jones,” Martha said, settling Gert in the chair. “And I’m not sure I’d approve now, so don’t go matchmaking.”

“We could keep her here,” Gert pointed out. “Right here in Beauville.” Now she had her daughter’s attention. “If we play our cards right. Maybe she’d like to move back home one of these days, take over your house in town when you move to the fancy villa place.”

“Kate’s life is in New York. She makes good
money, she has a good job and she likes her life just the way it is.” Martha folded up the paper and set it aside. “Let me get you a piece of pizza. You didn’t eat anything but cake this afternoon.”

“That’d be good, Martha. Thanks.”

“And you’re not fooling anyone with that beer nonsense,” her daughter said, walking past her to the counter. “I know you don’t drink that stuff.”

“I’m going to start,” she declared. Kate would do as she asked, hunt down that handsome young man and seek a favor for her poor old thirsty granny. He might smile down at her and Kate would be all businesslike, with that cool expression of hers.

These young people could be so foolish.

“B
EER
?” D
USTIN LED
the horse closer to the fence where Kate stood. She looked better now, he noticed, in clothes that didn’t look as if she was trying to impress anyone. Her face was flushed, as if she’d been running. Maybe that’s how she kept so slim in the city. He told himself he didn’t care how she looked, wouldn’t bother looking at her if she was stark naked and begging for his attention. “Have you worked up a thirst this afternoon?”