Heart of Texas Series Volume 1: Lonesome Cowboy\Texas Two-Step\Caroline's Child (18 page)

“I can't complain. Billy's in junior high this year.”

Hard to believe, Grady thought. Art and Denise's oldest boy was reaching his teens and
he
wasn't even married yet.

Denise filled his mug with coffee. “Are you going to order something to eat?”

“Not me, but Caroline might.”

“Caroline Daniels?” Denise filled the second mug.

He nodded, disliking the flicker of interest in her eyes.

“Are you two seeing each other now?” she asked, her interest far too avid.

Grady opened his mouth to deny everything. He didn't have to.

“No way,” Caroline answered for him as she slipped into the booth. She handed Denise the menu, effectively dismissing her, and reached for the sugar dispenser. “You had something you wanted to say about Savannah.”

“Yeah.” This was more difficult than he'd imagined.

“Is she all right?” Caroline leaned back against the patched red vinyl upholstery, and he noted for the first time how pale she was. He didn't comment because sure as hell she'd make something of it—something he'd never intended. His only chance to have a peaceful conversation was to stick to the matter at hand and ignore everything else. Still, he wondered.

“How come you haven't been out to the ranch?” he blurted. His sister needed a friend, and he'd expected Caroline to be there for her, especially now.

“I stopped by a couple of times when you weren't around.”

“On purpose?” he asked, thinking she'd taken to avoiding him because of Maggie.

“No, it just happened to work out that way. I haven't gone anywhere in a couple of days. I've been dealing with postal inspectors all week. I had my own crisis to handle, but fortunately that's behind me now.” She cradled the mug between her hands. “I've phoned Savannah every day.” Her eyes held his. “Is something going on with her that I don't know about?”

“Not with Savannah, exactly,” he said, then looked away, finding her scrutiny uncomfortable. “First off, I was wrong about Laredo Smith.”

That captured her attention, he could tell. She raised her eyebrows but said nothing. Not yet, anyway. Naturally she'd delight in hearing how wrong he'd been.

“I should have accepted Savannah's assessment of his character,” Grady said, embarrassed that he'd allowed his fears to get in the way. Admitting he'd made a mistake had never come easy. “I...came to some, well, erroneous conclusions about Smith. The result was that he and I got started on the wrong foot.”

“You should tell Savannah this, not me.”

“I have!” he snapped, then took a deep breath in an effort to control his impatience. When he spoke again, he lowered his voice. “I did tell her, but I wanted you to know, as well.”

“Should I be grateful?”

Grady decided to ignore the sarcasm. “Laredo came to me and asked for a loan. Despite what you think, I'm not blind. I knew something wasn't right. I didn't want him to leave and I told him so.”

This appeared to surprise Caroline. Her eyebrows rose again. “You did?”

“Yes—not that it did any good. In the end I agreed to lend him the money and he insisted on giving me the title to his truck. The day he left I apologized for the scene at Richard's party and we shook hands.” He stared into the steaming mug. “I took my aggravation with Richard out on Laredo and made a complete ass of myself.”

Caroline didn't disagree with him. Not that he expected she would.

“Although it's none of my business,” he said, “Laredo as much as admitted he loved Savannah.”

“He told me that, too.” Caroline shook her head in dismay. “What I can't fathom is why he felt he had to leave. What is it about men? I don't understand it. Laredo Smith is loved by the sweetest, kindest, most wonderful woman he's likely to meet in ten lifetimes and what does he do? He walks out on her without a word. It doesn't make sense.” She tossed her hands in the air as if to say she'd never understand the male of the species.

“A man has his pride, especially a man like Smith, but my guess is Richard had something to do with it.” It was the first time he'd suggested this to anyone, and he was curious to see how Caroline would react. He half expected her to jump all over him and insist he quit trying to blame Richard for everything, including the national debt. She said nothing for several moments.

“I wouldn't put it past him,” she murmured at last.

Grady was so damn grateful that she agreed with him it was all he could do not to hug her right then and there. If Denise was going to spread rumors about him and Caroline,
that
would give her something to talk about.

“Did you ask Laredo if Richard said anything to him?”

“No,” he told her reluctantly.

“Why the hell not?”

“Well, because...I was trying to get him to stay.” Grady didn't know what Caroline had thought he could do. It wasn't like he could hog-tie the wrangler until he agreed to marry his sister. Grady hadn't intended to tell Caroline this, but suddenly he wanted her to know. “I offered Laredo a partnership in the ranch. I realize now it must have come as quite a surprise to him. Hell, I surprised myself.”

He'd already known Savannah was in love with Laredo; that day he'd learned about Smith's love for Savannah, too. This man was important to her happiness; if it was in Grady's power to make her happy, he was willing to do whatever it took.

He noticed how Caroline's face tightened as she considered this information. “What'd he say to that?”

Glancing away, Grady relived the terse conversation. “That he didn't accept charity and I'd insulted Savannah and him. Hell, everything I do these days is wrong. I was only trying to help.” He reached for his coffee. “At first I thought Laredo didn't love Savannah, but now I think he loves her too much.”

Caroline gave a hard shake of her head. “As far as I'm concerned, he'd better not show his face around here, because I swear I'll wring his neck if he does.”

Grady was a little taken aback by the vehemence of her response.

“All this crap about pride and honor—it's asinine, that's what it is.” Her lips thinned. “Never mind him. How's Savannah doing?”

“You said you haven't seen her in the past couple of days, didn't you?”

Caroline nodded. “Why? What's up?”

“Something's happened—she's changed.”

“Of course she's changed! She's hurt and angry. And I can't blame her.”

“It's more than that.”

Caroline leaned closer. “What do you mean?”

“Like you said, she's hurt—but I can't imagine how that would lead to...this.” He didn't know how to say it without sounding demented, so he just plunged in. “Hell, I don't know what's happened to her, but two days ago she cut her hair.”

“Savannah?”

“It's been long for so many years I didn't recognize her. It's shoulder-length now and in a—” he made a circular motion with his finger “—pageboy, I think is what you call it. The ends tuck under sort of nice and neat.”

This left Caroline speechless.

“Then yesterday I found her in jeans.”

“Savannah?”

“Yeah. I didn't know she even owned any.”

“But why?” Caroline asked, clearly puzzled. “Why'd she do these things?”

“I have my suspicions and I'll tell you right now, it makes my blood run cold.”

“Really,” Caroline said thoughtfully, “when you think about it, what's so terrible about Savannah cutting her hair and updating her wardrobe?”

“I'm worried.” Grady didn't mind admitting it, either. “This morning I saw her standing on the porch looking down the driveway as if she expected Laredo to come back. Personally I wish to hell he would, but I don't think it's going to happen.”

“I hope you didn't tell her that!”

“Of course not!” What kind of idiot did Caroline think he was, anyway? “Then she told me Laredo Smith was a fool,” he added.

“I couldn't agree with her more,” Caroline muttered.

“You know what I think? I think Savannah's decided to look for a husband.” He spoke quickly, finding the subject of marriage an uncomfortable one with Caroline.

Caroline gave an elaborate shrug. “There's nothing wrong with marriage, although neither of
us
seems interested in it.”

“I agree—nothing wrong with it. But I'm afraid that in Savannah's current frame of mind any man will do.”

“Did she have someone in mind?”

“Not that I'm aware of.” But Grady knew his sister, and while he wasn't an expert, he recognized the look. Savannah was on the prowl. And when a woman set her mind on marriage, he believed, there was damn little a man could do but run for shelter.

“You're sure about this?” Caroline frowned.

“Not a hundred percent, but it's fairly obvious.”

Then to his consternation, Caroline burst out laughing.

Grady didn't take kindly to being the butt of a joke. “What's so damned funny?” he demanded.

“You! I don't think Savannah's on the prowl, as you put it, but if she does find a decent man to marry, more power to her. There's too much love in her heart to waste. If Laredo doesn't want to marry her, then so be it. Eventually she'll find a man who does.”

“In some tavern?”

“Savannah's not into that scene.”

“That's what I thought, but then Richard...” Grady hesitated, uncertain he should tell her this, but if Caroline could help...

“What about Richard?” she asked, her laughter draining away quickly.

It helped that his no-good brother hadn't fooled Caroline, that she recognized the kind of man he was. “Richard offered to take her barhopping and introduce her around.”

“Terrific,” Caroline said sarcastically. “All the best men hang around bars. Is she going to do it?”

“I don't know,” Grady said. “I just don't know.”

***

Glen Patterson sat down in front of the television with a cold can of soda. He was supposed to meet Ellie for dinner, but she'd phoned and said she'd be hung up until after seven. This was a difficult time for his friend. Twice this week he'd made excuses to drive into town and check up on her. The last report he'd heard on her father wasn't good. The doctors seemed to think John Frasier wouldn't last more than another week or two.

“You're frowning,” Cal said as he stepped into the living room. It wasn't as neat and orderly as when their mother had done the housekeeping, but it wasn't as bad as it might've been, either. The two brothers had hired a woman to come in once a week to clean ever since their parents had retired and moved into town to open a bed-and-breakfast.

“I was just thinking,” Glen said.

“Worried about Ellie?”

“Not really.” He downplayed his concern rather than admit it to his brother.

“Maybe you
should
be worried,” Cal said as he claimed the recliner. He sat down and stretched out his long legs.

“Do you know something I don't?”

Cal didn't look at him when he spoke. “I hear Richard Weston's got his eye on her.”

“Richard? He's harmless. Okay, so he likes to flirt, but Ellie knows that.”

“You jealous?”

If anyone understood his relationship with Ellie, it should be his own brother. “Why would I be jealous? Ellie and I are friends. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

Friends.
It shouldn't be a difficult concept to understand. Cal and Grady Weston had been good friends for years. It just so happened that
his
best friend was a member of the opposite sex. People had been trying to make something of it for years.

Cal regarded him skeptically.

“What?” Glen asked in annoyance.

“Men and women can't be friends.”

Glen had his older brother on that one. “Wrong. Ellie's like one of the guys. She always has been—you know that.”

Cal folded his hands over his trim stomach. “In other words, it doesn't bother you she's been seeing Richard.”

“Not in the least.” It did a little, but not enough to really concern him—and not for the reasons Cal might suggest. Glen was afraid that Ellie was especially vulnerable just then, and he didn't want Richard Weston to take advantage of her.

“You know how Grady feels about him,” Cal said.

“Yeah, so what? Richard wasn't cut out to be a rancher—we both know that. He has a right to come home now and then, don't you think?”

Cal was silent for a moment. Then he said, “If I were you, I'd keep my eye on Ellie.”

Glen found himself frowning again. Cal had a suspicious nature but he hadn't always been this cynical or distrusting. Glen traced it back to Jennifer Healy—Cal had been engaged to her a couple of years ago, and Jennifer had dumped him. Afterward Cal's disposition had soured, particularly toward women. It bothered Glen and he'd tried a number of times to steer his older brother into a new relationship, but Cal didn't seem interested.

“Well, I know for a fact that Richard can be a real bastard,” Cal added. “If you're Ellie's friend, like you say, you'd better warn her.”

“Warn?” Obviously Cal hadn't been around her often enough. Ellie had a mind of her own and wouldn't take kindly to his interference.

Anyway, he just couldn't take Richard seriously as a threat. An annoyance, yes, but not a threat.

Eleven

A
s Savannah drove toward Bitter End, she considered the unmistakable fact that her family was worried about her. She'd shocked everyone by cutting her hair, no one more than herself. The decision had come on the spur of the moment, without warning or forethought.

She'd been washing her face as she did each morning and happened to catch her reflection in the bathroom mirror. For a long moment, she'd stood there staring.

How plain she looked. How ordinary. Carefully, critically, she examined her image and didn't like what she saw. That was when she decided something had to be done. Anything. Not until she reached for the brush did she consider cutting her waist-length blond hair. One minute she was staring in the mirror, the next she had a pair of scissors in her hands.

Savannah knew she'd shocked Grady and Wiley that first morning. They'd come into the kitchen for breakfast and stopped cold, unable to keep their mouths from sagging open. Her brother squinted and looked at her as if she were a stranger. Not that Savannah blamed him. She
felt
like a stranger.

Naturally Grady, being Grady, had simply ignored the change after that and didn't say a word. Frowning, he sat down at the table and dished up his breakfast as though there was nothing out of the ordinary. And Wiley, being Wiley, couldn't resist commenting. He approved of the change and said so, forcing Grady to agree with him.

Savannah began to like her new look. Everything that followed after she'd cut her hair was a natural progression of this first action. She'd worn the ankle-length dresses for comfort and out of habit. The jeans were leftovers from her high school days and, surprisingly, still fit.

Of the three men Richard had been the most complimentary about the new Savannah. Her younger brother had done his best to flatter and charm her. To his credit his efforts had made her laugh, something she hadn't done in quite a while. She worried about Richard and his finances, but again and again he assured her the check would be coming soon. The one who surprised her most was Grady. It was as if he'd forgotten about Richard, but her younger brother was smart enough to avoid him. He spent his evenings in town, and while Grady was out working, Richard practiced his guitar or serenaded her. The past few afternoons he'd joined her on the porch to keep her company. It helped distract her from thoughts of Laredo, and Savannah was grateful. A couple of times he'd attempted to talk her into going to town with him to, as he put it, live it up a little. He seemed to believe that all she needed was a new love interest. Another man, who'd take her mind off Laredo.

What Richard didn't understand was that she couldn't turn her feelings on and off at will. He prodded her, claiming it would lift her spirits to get out and circulate. While she appreciated his efforts, she wasn't ready. In truth she didn't know if she would ever be. Not that she intended to mourn the loss of her one and only love for the remainder of her days. She'd given herself time to accept that Laredo was out of her life; after that, she was determined to continue on as she had before.

Easier said than done.

Savannah's hands clenched the steering wheel as she came to a particularly bumpy stretch of road. Although she knew Grady highly disapproved of her going back to the ghost town, she'd decided to do it, anyway.

Not because of the roses, either. She'd already discovered, the day Laredo had come with her, that no other flowers were to be found there, old roses or otherwise. The land was completely barren. Nevertheless, she felt compelled to return for one last visit.

Her reason was nebulous, hard to analyze or explain. But Savannah didn't care. The why of it no longer concerned her. She felt drawn in some indefinable way to this lifeless empty town.

She was pitched and jolted around as she drove slowly toward Bitter End. Oddly, the truck seemed to remember each turn, and she followed without question, parking in the same spot and hiking the rest of the way.

As she neared the place, the memories of her last visit with Laredo immediately came to mind. For weeks now she'd managed to curtail her thoughts of him, telling herself it did no good to brood on might-have-beens; he was gone and nothing she said or did would bring him back. She had no choice but to accept his decision.

At least that was the sane and sensible approach. In reality it just hurt too damned much to linger over the memories.

Every time she stepped into her garden the first thing she saw were the trellises he'd built for her. The roses he'd fertilized and cared for had exploded with fresh blooms. She would cut and arrange them, knowing that his hands had touched these very stems.

It hadn't been easy. None of it.

Caroline worried about her, too, and phoned frequently to check on her. Rather than come right out and tell her she was concerned, her friend manufactured excuses for her calls. She still wasn't coming out to the ranch very often, but Savannah blamed Grady and his talent for frightening Maggie.

As she climbed onto the rocky ledge, Bitter End came into view. She stared at the church at the outskirts of town. The whole place looked peaceful and serene from here, and she wondered about the sadness and oppression she'd experienced on her last visit. Maybe it was her imagination, after all. Laredo's, too. He'd shared her uneasiness and hadn't been able to get her away fast enough.

But as she walked past the church and down the main street, the sensation returned. The feeling seemed to wrap itself around her, but Savannah refused to be intimidated. She wasn't going to run away.

Not this time.

She moved forward carefully and deliberately. The sidewalks had been built a good two to three feet off the ground and were lined with railings. A water trough, baked for a hundred years in the unyielding sun, sat by the hitching post. Savannah advanced toward it, thinking that, instead of walking down the center of the street as she had with Laredo, she'd take the sidewalk and explore a couple of buildings along the way.

Just then she heard a bird's mournful cry reverberating in the stillness. The wind whistled, a keening sound, as though someone was grieving some great loss. Sagebrush tumbled down the hard dirt street. She stopped, looking around, and realized there was something different.

“The rocking chair,” she said aloud. She was certain no chair had been there before. But now one stood outside the mercantile store, creaking in the wind, and her heart lodged in her throat.

Determined not to give in to the fear that sent goose bumps skittering up her arms, she strolled fearlessly ahead. Her bravado didn't help. The feeling of dread persisted.

In that instant she understood. It was an emotional understanding and it told her why she'd come, what had driven her back to the ghost town. Standing in the middle of town, she looked up and down the barren street and saw nothing but tumbleweeds and dust.

The street was stark. Empty. Bare. Even the land refused to nurture growth.

This town, this lifeless unproductive street, was like her life. She lived holed up on the ranch with her unmarried brothers. Her entire life revolved around their needs, their wants, their demands.

Her roses and her mail-order business were tolerated, but no one had offered her one word of encouragement. Except Laredo. Grady cared about her; she didn't mean to belittle his concern. But he hadn't the time or energy to invest in understanding her or her needs. As for Richard, although she loved him, she knew he'd never been able to look past his own interests.

Until Laredo, her existence had been empty. Outwardly focused, with no regard for her own happiness, her own growth.
Before Laredo. After Laredo.
Savannah smiled to herself. It seemed her entire life would now be divided into two parts. Before he'd come and after he'd left.

How odd that she'd find herself smiling like that. Just when she'd recognized her life for what it was. Shallow. Without a center.

The restlessness she'd held at bay all this time felt as though it would crush her. Ignoring the unhappiness had done no good. Repressing it hadn't worked. For weeks she'd been fighting headaches and listlessness. For weeks her body had tried to tell her what standing alone in the ghost town had finally made her understand.

She saw a small corral across from the hotel, a large rock beside it. Savannah walked over and sat there, trying to assimilate what she'd learned about herself.

A memory came to her. One she'd long forgotten. She'd been barely ten when her father had been tossed from his horse. He'd badly broken his leg but had somehow managed to crawl to safety and avoid further injury.

Savannah remembered how her mother, frightened and ashen-faced, had run to his side and held his hand while she drove him to the clinic. Mel Weston had smiled and, between deep breaths, assured his wife that the pain told him he was still alive.

That was what this pain told Savannah. She was alive. She could still feel and love and be. Laredo had taught her that, and so much more. For the first time in her adult life, she recognized how much love her heart could hold.

No matter how much it hurt, she'd do it all again.

She bowed her head against the wind as it blew sagebrush about her feet. Tears filled her eyes, but they weren't the same tears that had burned her face in weeks past.

Savannah had made peace with herself.

***

Grady noticed a difference in Savannah the minute she got out of the truck. Her face radiated a serenity, an acceptance, one that had clearly been hard-won.

His sister hadn't told him where she was going, but Grady could guess and he hadn't liked it. Not one damn bit. How she'd come away from Bitter End with any kind of tranquillity was beyond him. Half a dozen times he'd considered going after her and talked himself out of it, knowing Savannah wouldn't appreciate his interference.

She joined him in the kitchen and put on water for a pot of tea. “I'm going to be all right now,” she told him.

Grady wasn't sure what to say. He'd wanted to talk to her about the last conversation he'd had with Laredo, wanted to comfort her, but he feared he'd do more harm than good.

“I won't be going back,” she said next as she took the china teapot from the shelf above the stove. She didn't say where and he didn't ask.

“Good,” was all Grady said, at a loss for words.

“Would you care for a cup of tea?” she asked, sounding almost like her old self.

Grady preferred dark strong coffee and Savannah knew it. The offer was more a gesture of reconciliation, an outstretched hand. “Tea sounds wonderful,” he said.

Savannah smiled and brought down an extra cup and saucer.

In the days that followed, the transformation in his sister became more apparent. Color returned to her pale cheeks and a radiance to her face. She started to sing and hum once again and baked his favorite chocolate-chip cookies. Savannah was back, and yet it wasn't quite the same Savannah as before. These changes were very subtle.

His sister had always been a fearless advocate for people she believed in. Now she believed in herself, too. Her fledgling mail-order business took off like gangbusters once she finished her catalog. Orders poured in from across the country—surprising even Savannah, who'd barely got her catalog mailed out when the responses started to arrive, at a fast and furious pace. The fax machine was in constant use. She soon became known as an expert on old roses and two awards came in quick succession. First she was honored with the grand prize by the Texas Rose Society for one of her premier roses, which she'd named Laredo's Legacy. The following day, she was asked to speak at next year's Rose Festival in Tyler, Texas, known as the rose capital of the world. Public speaking terrified Savannah, and Grady suspected she'd politely decline. To his amazement she accepted.

Grady wasn't the only one who noticed the changes in Savannah. Caroline did, too. Even Richard, self-centered as he was, commented on her new attitude. Grady was proud of her, exceptionally proud, and he wanted to let her know. He could think of only one way. He ordered her prize-winning rose, Laredo's Legacy, and together with Savannah, planted it at their parents' grave. Savannah had thanked him with tears shining in her eyes.

His sister, Grady realized, was quite possibly the most incredible woman he'd ever known. How odd that it had taken him so long to realize it.