Heart of Texas Series Volume 1: Lonesome Cowboy\Texas Two-Step\Caroline's Child (14 page)

“I didn't investigate the town itself,” she said. The cemetery was as far as she got. Whatever was there had driven her back before she'd set foot in the actual town. But she'd know the answer to her brother's questions soon enough. Today was it, she'd decided. She was going back for a second visit, despite all Grady's efforts to keep her away.

“So where exactly is it?” Richard asked.

“Oh, sort of east of here,” she said vaguely. “I had a hard time finding it.” That was all she planned to say on the matter.

“Weren't you afraid?” he teased.

She wasn't sure how to describe her wariness. “Not really,” she said, downplaying the eerie sensation she'd experienced on her first visit. She added the beaten eggs to the small skillet as the butter sizzled.

“I really don't think visiting the place again is a good idea,” Richard surprised her by saying. Not that
she
wanted him there, but a few days ago, he'd certainly been dropping hints to that effect. He buttered the toast when it popped up and sat down at the table, awaiting his breakfast.

“I
have
to go back,” she said, surprised she had to fight Richard on this, too. Grady and Laredo had formed an uneasy partnership in their efforts to keep her from returning. “There're bound to be other roses,” she explained, although it wasn't necessary. All three men knew her reasons. “I might find an even rarer form. I can't tell you how thrilled I was with my original discovery.”

“Think carefully before you go back,” Richard said, smiling gratefully when she set the plate of steaming eggs in front of him. “You'd be wise to heed Grady's advice, Savannah. A ghost town isn't any place for you to go exploring alone.”

“Earlier you said you wanted to come along. You—”

“I said that?” He flattened his hand against his chest. “Not me. I'm as chicken as they come. You won't catch me anywhere close to Bitter End. I have a healthy respect for the supernatural.”

Savannah refused to be dissuaded, but she didn't intend to discuss it further. She'd do what she did the last time—steal away before anyone knew she was gone.

***

Grady sat in his office and pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping that would help him focus on the long row of ledger numbers. He hadn't slept more than a couple of hours the entire night. Instead, he'd been leaning over the toilet, examining parts of it that were never meant to be viewed from this perspective.

Hard liquor had never agreed with him. Especially in quantity. After he'd embarrassed himself and Savannah, he'd holed up in his office with a bottle of cheap whiskey. The good stuff had disappeared, as he'd told his sister—but he hadn't been in any mood to appreciate the difference.

This morning his head throbbed with a vengeance. He couldn't think, couldn't work. Richard had been back less than a week, and already Grady was reduced to a useless piece of... He didn't finish the thought.

The phone pealed and he slammed his eyes closed as the sound pierced his brain, shattering what little serenity he'd managed to recover. He waited for Savannah to answer.

No one knew he was in his office, and that was the way he wanted it.

The phone rang a second time and then a third. Where the hell was Savannah? If not her, Richard? Rather than suffer the agony of a fourth ring, Grady grabbed the receiver.

“Who the hell is it?” he snarled.

A shocked silence greeted him, followed by a sob, then tears and “Mommy, Mommy.”

Damn. It'd been Maggie for Savannah, and he'd frightened the poor kid half out of her wits.

“Maggie,” he shouted, wanting to apologize for his outburst. Apologize was all he seemed to do these days. He felt faint stirrings of hope when he heard someone pick up the receiver.

“Maggie, listen—”

“It's Caroline,” she interrupted coolly. “And this must be Grady.” She didn't give him a chance to respond before she added, “What exactly did you say to Maggie to upset her like this?”

“I didn't know. I thought...” Even his tongue refused to work properly.

“Obviously you
didn't
think.”

He could hear Maggie softly weeping in the background.

“I'm sorry, Caroline,” he said. “Hell, I didn't know it was Maggie. I certainly didn't mean to frighten her.”

“What's gotten into you, Grady?”

He braced his forehead against his hand. If the answer was that simple, he would've saved himself a great deal of embarrassment. The truth was he didn't know any longer.

“You made an ass of yourself last night.”

“Nice of you to remind me.” Leave it to a woman to kick a man when he was down.

“You had too much to drink.”

“You brought me one of those beers,” he felt obliged to remind her.

“So this is all
my
fault?”

Grady closed his eyes at her outrage. “No,” he admitted, feeling about as low as a man could get. “I accept full responsibility.”

The silence stretched between them until Caroline slowly released a deep breath and asked, “Where's Savannah?”

“I don't know. I expected her to pick up the phone.” Clearly so had Maggie, who continued to weep noisily in the background.

“Is she all right?” Caroline asked.

“She was this morning.” And not afraid to set him down a peg or two, although he knew he'd asked for it.

Maggie's cries subsided into soft muffled sounds.

“What are you doing home?” he asked Caroline. She should be at the post office, but then, he wasn't one to talk, seeing as he should be out on the range with Wiley. Or working in the barn with Laredo Smith.

“Maggie wasn't feeling well this morning, so I took the day off.”

“How's she doing?”

“She's feeling better—or she was,” Caroline said pointedly.

“I'd like to talk to her if you'd let me, so I can apologize.” He wasn't sure he knew
how
to talk to a five-year-old, but he didn't want her cringing in terror every time she was out at the ranch. She was a sweet little girl and Savannah was deeply attached to her.

“I don't know if she'll talk to you.”

“Ask her, will you?” His hand tightened around the receiver while he waited. In the background he could hear Caroline reasoning with the child. He was somewhat amused when he heard her compare him to the beast in
Beauty and the Beast.
He made a lot of loud noises and sounded mean, Caroline said, but deep down he was really a prince who'd been put under a spell.

Caroline returned to the phone a couple of minutes later. “I'm sorry, Grady, but I can't convince her to give you a second chance.”

“I can't say I blame her,” Grady said with a sigh. “I was pretty rough when I answered.”

“She called to tell Savannah she had a tummy ache.”

“My kind of sympathy wasn't what she was looking for, was it.”

The sound of Caroline's half chuckle did more to lift his spirits than anything had that day.

“I guess you could say that,” she said softly.

“I have been a beast, haven't I.”

“You could say that, too.”

“Since she won't let me talk to her, will you tell Maggie I'm sorry? I promise I won't shout at her again.” He didn't know if it would do any good, but it was the best he could manage. The next time Maggie visited the ranch, he'd try to square things with her.

“I'll let Savannah know you phoned,” he said, reaching for a pen. If he didn't write it down, he'd forget, and he didn't think Caroline would be willing to forgive him that on top of everything else.

They exchanged goodbyes and he replaced the receiver.

With an effort he glanced down at the ledger and reached for the calculator, determined to make good use of his time. He couldn't laze in bed until noon like his worthless brother.

***

Laredo assumed he'd find Savannah in the rose garden, but she was nowhere in sight. Nor was she in the house. He'd done everything short of knocking on her bedroom door.

Grady had disappeared, as well, but that was more a blessing than a matter of concern.

Unsure where to search next, Laredo headed back to the barn. It was one of the last places he expected to find Savannah. A niggling sense of fear refused to leave him. She'd looked pale that morning, and although he hadn't been eager to clash with Grady so soon after their last confrontation, he wasn't about to let him harass Savannah.

The barn door creaked as he pushed it open. Light spilled into the interior and Savannah spun around. Her eyes instantly widened with guilt.

Laredo had no idea what she'd been doing, but clearly it was something she didn't want anyone knowing.

“Savannah?”

“Hi.” Her smile was a bit sheepish.

“What are you doing in here?”

“Nothing. I was—”

“Savannah,” he said, and held out his arms, needing to reassure her. She didn't hesitate, not so much as a second. He brought her into his embrace and hugged her. “Don't ever play poker, sweetheart. Your expression's a dead giveaway.”

Her arms circled his waist and she pressed her face to his shoulder. “I'm so sorry about what happened last night,” she said.

This was the first chance they'd had to discuss the incident, but Laredo preferred to drop the entire thing. He'd been at fault, too, eager to put her brother in his place for embarrassing Savannah. And he'd been angry after his chat with Hennessey, knowing Grady had instigated the sheriff's questioning.

“Let's put it behind us, okay?”

He felt her deep sigh. “Is that what you want?” she asked in a solemn voice.

“Yeah.”

“I'm willing to forget it—except for one thing.” She tilted her head back and gazed at him with wide adoring eyes.

“What's that?” Laredo didn't know what he'd done to deserve having such a beautiful woman look at him that way.

“I could put the...incident behind me if Grady hadn't cheated me out of my sweetheart dance.”

“Not all of it.”

“I begrudge every second he stole from me.”

Laredo kissed the top of her head and reached behind him to take hold of her hands. “Don't you hear the music?” he asked.

“Music?” Her eyes narrowed as if she was straining to hear before she realized what he was doing. She smiled then, and it was all he could do not to cover her mouth with his.

“I believe there
is
music in here,” she said, her face alight with happiness.

“There must be.”

Laredo danced her about the barn floor, making turns so wide that her skirt flared straight out as they whirled around. Savannah threw back her head and laughed with such pure joy Laredo was soon smiling himself.

They whirled faster and faster until they were both winded and ready to collapse with laughter. Savannah pressed her hand to her throat as she drew in a deep breath.

“Okay, confess,” he said once he'd caught his own breath. He leaned against the wall and watched as the amusement left her.

“Confess?”

“What were you up to earlier?”

He watched as she shifted her feet a couple of times before she lowered her head. “You'll be angry with me.”

Laredo didn't think that was possible. “Why?”

“I was about to break the promise I made you. I—I'm sorry....”

Then it dawned on him. She'd been gathering equipment to sneak away to that damned ghost town. He exhaled sharply, grateful he'd found her when he had. He was disappointed, too. He'd expected Savannah to be a woman of her word.

“I'm sorry,” she said again, with such genuine regret that he couldn't help forgiving her. “Richard and I were talking about Bitter End this morning, and I felt this urge to go there again. Now. Today. I have to, Laredo. Because of the roses.” She glanced down at her feet. “And I didn't want Richard to know. Or Grady. I wasn't sure where you were...and I've got to leave quickly.” She raised her head to look at him. “Can you come with me?” she asked, her expressive eyes filled with hope. “It won't take much time. I'll leave Grady a note and explain.”

Grady might owe him a favor, but Laredo didn't feel ready to collect it quite this soon. Then he changed his mind.

“All right,” he said, “we'll do it.”

She clapped her hands, then forgetting herself, leaped forward and kissed him on the mouth. “I'll pack up a lunch and afterward we can have a picnic.”

He hadn't the heart to disappoint her, but his idea of how he wanted to spend the day wasn't sitting in some field full of bluebonnets, lingering over sandwiches. Not even with Savannah... He thought of all the chores that awaited him. Chores Grady counted on him to do.

“How long will we be?”

“Not too long,” she promised. “All I want to do is walk around and see if there are any other roses. We won't stay.”

He nodded.

“There's a lovely spot a few miles down the road where the river bends. We can have lunch there.” She wasn't about to drop this picnic idea of hers, and really, he supposed, it was a small thing to ask.

With their plans set, Laredo loaded the shovels and other tools into the back of the pickup. As he did, an uneasiness settled over him. Apparently what Grady had told him about the place had made a stronger impact than he'd realized. His uneasiness grew into dread and refused to leave him.

They weren't even off the ranch yet, and already he was convinced they shouldn't go.

Eight

T
he truck pitched and heaved, first left and then right, as they neared Bitter End. Savannah hung on as best she could, but her shoulders continued to slam against Laredo's, jarring them both. Thankfully they were able to follow the tire tracks from her last visit, otherwise she wasn't sure she could have located it a second time.

“I can't believe you found this place on your own,” Laredo said, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“It wasn't easy—took me weeks of searching.”

More than once she'd been tempted to forsake the idea, but the thought of finding old roses had spurred her onward. Her patience had been richly rewarded. Not only had she discovered the White Lady Banks, her most valuable find to date, but on that same day she'd come across Laredo.

The truck pitched sharply and Laredo cursed under his breath.

“We're pretty close now,” she assured him. His face was tense with concentration, and although he drove cautiously, he couldn't avoid jolting the truck on the rough ground. There was barely even a track.

Savannah was grateful Laredo had agreed to escort her back to the ghost town, but what she looked forward to even more was their picnic. They were rarely alone. This stolen time was bound to be special.

Laredo eased the truck to a stop when they could go no farther.

“It's only a short walk from here,” she promised.

The trek was difficult, through brush and dense cedars, and they were both breathless before the town came into view.

“So this is Bitter End,” Laredo muttered as he climbed over rocks to a limestone ledge that overlooked the town. He offered Savannah his hand.

She took it and stepped up. From the outskirts Bitter End resembled any other ghost town. A row of forsaken buildings lined the main street, four or five on each side, in various states of disrepair, various stages of dying. Paintless shutters hung crookedly by empty windows. The stillness and lack of sound gave it an eerie unreal feeling. Wind-tossed tumbleweeds had wedged in the corners and along the boardwalk. A quick inspection didn't reveal any visible plant life, but there had to be some roses. The ones in the cemetery had survived. Others would've, too.

The largest building in town was the church, which sat on a hill at the far end of town, next to the cemetery. Time had left it remarkably untouched. It'd remained white and unblemished except for the charred steeple, which had apparently been struck by lightning. At the other end of town was a corral.

They clambered down a rocky embankment into the town itself. Then it happened just as it had on her first visit. The feeling of sadness and pain. Whatever possessed Bitter End wasn't ghosts or spirits, of that she was fairly certain, but a sorrow so strong even the years hadn't dimmed it.

She looked at Laredo, who faced the town squarely, feet slightly apart, ready, it seemed, for anything. He stood there silently, as if he was listening and yet heard nothing.

“Do you feel it?” she whispered. Normal tones didn't seem right. On her previous visit she hadn't murmured a word. She'd been in and out of the town within ten minutes. Just long enough to dig up the roses and replace them with a bush from her own garden.

“Are you sure you want to go ahead with this?” Laredo asked. He, too, spoke in a whisper, unwilling to disturb whatever it was that awaited them.

Savannah slipped her arm through his. “I'm positive.”

“Then let's get it over with and get the hell out.”

“There aren't any ghosts here,” she told him, still in a whisper.

“Whatever you say.” He smiled for the first time since their arrival.

“It won't take long to look for more roses,” she said. The presence of another person—someone she trusted—made the town seem a little less frightening.

If Laredo wasn't in such an all-fired hurry to leave, it might have been fun to explore the interior of some of the buildings. But then again, Savannah had the distinct impression they were trespassing as it was.

“Where do you want to start?” Laredo asked as they neared the main street.

“Anyplace is fine. I was in the cemetery earlier.” She motioned toward the church and the graveyard behind it. They walked side by side, holding hands. His warm grasp lent her reassurance.

The farther they went into town, the stronger the sense of sorrow became. With each step down the narrow street, the feeling grew darker. During her last visit she'd hurried through Bitter End as quickly as possible on her way to the cemetery, trying to shake off the sense of misery and unease.

She'd actually enjoyed visiting the graveyard. The sensation hadn't been nearly as powerful there, and she'd been fascinated by the headstones. Most of the names and dates on the simple markers were no longer legible, but that hadn't stopped her from picturing the kind of life the people of Bitter End had lived. It would have been a harsh existence, battling hunger, disease and the elements.

Savannah recalled the stories she'd read about the frontier days when Texas had been wild and unforgiving. Stories she would one day read to her own children.

Her own children.

The thought caught her unprepared. All these years Savannah had assumed she'd never marry. Since meeting Laredo she'd begun to believe that all things were possible for her. A husband and a family of her own. Despite the eeriness of the place, Savannah's heart gladdened.

After a few minutes exploring the town's streets, Savannah realized that the trip had been a waste of time and energy. Whatever flowers, roses or otherwise, once bloomed in Bitter End had long since died. Nothing grew inside the town. Nothing. Everything was dead, including the land itself.

The lone tree, an oak with gnarled limbs, was hollow and lifeless. It stood in silent testimony to a time and place long forgotten.

“Don't you think it's a bit bizarre that there's nothing alive here? Not even a weed?” Laredo commented.

She nodded. The only plants that had survived one-hundred-plus years were the roses she'd discovered at the cemetery. “I want to go back,” she said.

“I couldn't agree with you more,” Laredo murmured.

“I mean, to the cemetery,” she said.

He hesitated. “Are you sure that's wise?”

“I don't know, but I'm curious about the grave site where I found the roses.” It didn't add up in Savannah's mind. If those roses had survived, then it made sense that other plants would have, too.

“In my humble opinion,” Laredo said, his words barely audible, “we shouldn't tempt fate. Let's leave while the leaving's good. All right?”

His hand gripped Savannah's with such force that her fingers throbbed. He wasn't intentionally hurting her, she knew, but reacting to the tension inside him.

“All right,” she agreed. “We'll go. I'll look some other time.”

“No.” The force behind the single word brought her up short.

“I don't want you coming back here,” he said with an urgency that baffled her. “Not for anything. Understand? This place gives me the creeps.”

Despite her love for him, she couldn't make that kind of promise. “No. Someday there might be a very good reason for me to return.”

Clearly, he wanted to argue the point, but right then, leaving appeared to be a higher priority. Frequently looking over his shoulder, Laredo led her back toward the faint path that would take them to the truck.

As they walked, the sensation gradually lifted from her shoulders. Savannah could feel it slipping away. Like a silk scarf dragged across a palm, the sensation faded until it was completely gone.

Once they reached the pickup, Laredo helped Savannah inside, then climbed in himself. He couldn't seem to start the engine fast enough. His anxiety, even greater than her own, was contagious.

Savannah didn't want to know what had created the feeling that pervaded Bitter End. There was nothing good in that town and maybe there never had been.

***

Life was filled with mysteries, Laredo told himself. The answers weren't always meant to be known. That was the way he felt about this ghost town. Grady hadn't said much about it, only that it wasn't a safe place for Savannah. Her brother couldn't trust her not to return on her own, so he'd put aside his dislike and distrust of Laredo and sought his help.

For the first time Laredo appreciated Grady's fears. He didn't know what the hell had happened in that town. But he didn't need to know. As far as he was concerned, Bitter End could continue as it had for more than a hundred years without interruption from him.

He leaned against the tree trunk and watched Savannah unpack the picnic basket. He still wasn't keen on lazing away the afternoon under a flowering pecan, but his objection to the wasted time felt much less urgent now.

The spot she'd chosen for their picnic was as lovely as she'd promised. The river flowed swiftly nearby, the clean sound of water a sharp contrast to what he'd experienced a short time before.

Savannah finished unloading the wicker basket and quickly assembled them each a plate—roast-beef sandwiches, yesterday's potato salad, homemade pickles. They ate in companionable silence for a while, then both spoke at once.

“You felt it, too, didn't you?” she asked.

“Was it the same as before?” he asked.

They paused and grinned, then Laredo took the lead. “I'll tell you what,” he said. “Let's not talk about the town.”

“Why not?”

He wasn't sure if she was disappointed or relieved. “I want to talk about you.”

“Me?” She shook her head. “You already know everything.”

“No, I'm sure I don't. For instance, who taught you to cook like this?” He couldn't remember a time he'd eaten better. Not in years. Not since he was a child, when he'd been too young to appreciate a home-cooked meal.

“My mother loved cooking. Baking, too. Mealtime was a matter of pride to her. I guess we're more alike than I realized.” Her eyes grew wide. “You would have liked her, Laredo—she was a wonderful woman.”

He didn't doubt that, not with the way he felt about Savannah. Relaxed as he was, the sun behind him, the sound of the river singing nearby, Laredo yawned, lulled by the serenity of the spot. “You'd like my mother, too.”

He hadn't meant to talk about himself, but once he'd mentioned his mother, she wouldn't let the subject drop. Before long he was answering her questions, talking about his mother in Tulsa. About her being widowed in 1972. And how she'd moved back to the same house where she'd been born and raised, the house where she still lived. How she'd been dating the same man for twenty years without any plan to marry him.

“I know I'd like her,” Savannah said wistfully. Then she lowered her gaze until her long lashes grazed the high arch of her cheeks. “Would you... Never mind.” Savannah reached for a blade of grass and nervously twisted it around her finger.

“Would I what?” he prodded, enjoying her discomfort. Little did she realize that he'd do just about anything for her. All she had to do was ask.

Her eyes fleetingly held his before she glanced away. “Would you like to put your head in my lap?” she asked.

This was what dreams were made of, he decided as he rested his neck against her thigh. It didn't take long for her fingers to weave their way into his hair, her touch soft and gentle. A memory rushed forward, one of his father and mother. His mother cutting his father's hair in the kitchen. Laredo couldn't have been more than four at the time, but he recalled the loving way his mother's hands had smoothed back the hair from his father's brow. His father had reached for her hand and kissed her palm.

Without realizing it, Laredo caught Savannah's fingers and brought them to his lips. His heart constricted with the strength of emotion that coursed through him.

He didn't intend to kiss her, but that was a natural progression. As natural as drawing his next breath. He lifted his head from the sanctuary of her lap and gently met her mouth with his. The hunger that surged to fire in his blood stunned him. The strength of his desire would have frightened her had he acted on it, Laredo thought. Instead, he involved himself in the kiss, his lips lingering on hers.

One kiss, he promised himself. But it soon became obvious that a single kiss wasn't enough for either of them. They exchanged one after another, each more intense than the last. Laredo had to call on every ounce of willpower he possessed to stop.

“I like it when you kiss me,” Savannah whispered. She kept her eyes closed as she spoke.

“I like it, too,” he confessed.

“Don't stop,” she pleaded.

Once again Laredo found himself in the position of being unable to refuse her.

The kiss was even better than the others; he'd assumed that was impossible. Savannah lay on the blanket, smiling up at him and he leaned over her.

“You taste so good I don't want you to ever stop,” she whispered when he hesitated.

“Sweetheart, you don't know what you're asking.”

“I do,” she murmured, her mouth moist and slightly swollen from his kisses. “I want you to kiss me forever.”

That didn't sound like a bad plan to Laredo, but sooner or later, kissing wouldn't be enough to satisfy either one of them. They were fast approaching that point now.

“Savannah,” he whispered, wondering how he could explain why it wasn't a good idea to continue.

He didn't get a chance. She locked her arms around his neck and drew his mouth down to hers again. He tried to show her without words what she did to him. This kiss was fierce, as fierce as his growing need.

He urged her lips apart and swept her mouth with his tongue, fully expecting— Hell, he didn't know
what
he was expecting. Certainly not this acceptance, this welcoming. His breath jammed in his lungs as the kiss deepened. While he waged war with his needs, she returned his lovemaking with an eagerness that destroyed his restraint. Her nails dug into his shoulders as if to bring him closer, become part of him. Laredo was convinced she didn't really grasp the overwhelming physical intensity of his reaction, didn't realize what she was doing to him.