Heart of Texas Vol. 2 (25 page)

His features softened. “Jane, that's not it.”

“Then what
is
it?”

“First, I don't know where Bitter End is. I really don't. Second, I've got better things to do with my time than wander around the countryside looking for some old town best for gotten.”

This was quite a speech for Cal. “But you've already been there once.”

“Years ago,” he said, “when I was a kid.”

“You should be able to find it again.”

“Jane,
no.
”

The evening had started out with great promise; now this. What Cal Patterson didn't understand was that she was an old hand at getting what she wanted. She'd been forced to acquire the skills, to refine the tactics. Medical school had taught her that. She'd learned how to deal with older physicians who felt women had no place in medicine. She'd come face-to-face with the old-boy network more than once. People assumed this sort of outdated thinking wasn't prevalent any longer, but they were wrong. She'd seen it and dealt with it on a daily basis, and learned there was more than one way to achieve what she wanted.

“I'm sorry to hear you won't help me find the ghost town,” she said softly.

“It's no place for a green horn.”

“I see.” Her tone was noncommittal.

He narrowed his eyes. “Why do I have the feeling I'm butting my head against a brick wall?”

So he knew. “I'll find Bitter End with or without you,” she said matter-of-factly.

Cal's eyes closed for an instant. “And if I decide not to continue with the riding lessons, you'll have someone else teach you, too?”

“Yes.” She wasn't going to lie about her intentions. That was exactly what she'd do if necessary—only she hoped it wouldn't be. “I'd much rather continue with you, though.” She took a deep breath. “Cal, I'm not trying to be manipulative here. But I want to see this town. I'll admit I've become kind of obsessed with it. And I'll do whatever it takes to get there.”

It was several moments before he responded. “It's not safe in Bitter End.”

“So you said.”

“The town's…evil.”

“Evil? You mean there are
ghosts?
”

“Not that type of evil.” He paced the room as though it was impossible for him to stand still any longer. “Grady Weston, Glen and I found Bitter End a number of years ago. I must have been about fifteen at the time, high on adventure. Fearless, like all kids that age. Cocky, some might say.”

“I wouldn't have thought that was so long ago,” she joked.

He didn't crack a smile. “We searched for weeks, the three of us. It was summer and we went out looking every day we could. We studied maps, even checked out an old journal that had belonged to Grady's father and had a few cryptic hints.”

“But you found the town,” Jane said, her voice rising with excitement.

“Yes, eventually we located it.”

“Did you explore? What was it like? I'd love to see it! Oh, Cal, please re consider.”

His sigh was deep and troubled. “You can't imagine how thrilled we were when we stumbled across it. We'd been searching all that time, and then one afternoon there it was. Surprisingly most of the buildings were intact.”

“That's incredible!” Just wait until her mother heard this. She'd want to know every detail.

“But it wasn't what we expected,” Cal told her, his eyes somber.

“How do you mean?”

“There's something wrong in that town. Like I said, something evil. We all felt it the moment we rode down the street. The horses felt it, too. The entire time we were there, they were skittish.”

“Something evil?” This made no sense to Jane. “What exactly was the feeling like?”

“I've thought about it a lot in the last few months, ever since Grady told me Savannah's been out there.”

“Savannah Smith?” Jane wondered if Cal realized he'd handed her a way of locating the town.

“She went there looking for old roses. According to what Grady said, she felt it, too. That same feeling.”

“Well, what
was
it?”

Cal shook his head. “It's impossible to describe. I've never experienced anything like it before or since.”

“Try,” she pleaded.

“Like there's a rope tightening around my chest,” he said, struggling to find the words. “A feeling of sadness. Loss. As though more than a century wasn't enough time to wipe out the grief or the agony of whatever happened.”

“I'd still like to see it for myself,” she told him.

“I figured you would.” His tone was resigned.

“Does this mean you'll take me?” She clasped her hands, prayer like. She didn't want another riding teacher. She liked the one she had. And she wanted Cal to be her guide to Bitter End; if there was danger in the town, she'd rather he was with her.

“All right,” he finally agreed. “We'll go look for it.”

Overjoyed, Jane threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. The next instant Cal wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him. Without warning, his mouth crashed down on hers. The kiss was urgent. Exciting. Cal didn't give Jane an opportunity to break it off, not that she would have, but gradually, as though he realized what he'd done, he mellowed the kiss. He wove his fingers into her hair, then slowly, cautiously, they began to relax against each other. Jane moved her lips, opening to him—and the excitement built again.

Cal groaned. He twisted his mouth against hers, seeking
more, and Jane was all too willing to comply. She wasn't sure a man had ever kissed her quite like this. With such need, such intensity.

When he broke away, they were both gasping. “I…I think I need to sit down,” Jane said, reaching for the nearest chair and lowering herself into it.

“Me, too,” Cal said.

In voluntarily she raised her hands to her lips. The kiss had been fierce. Wonderful.

“I didn't mean for that to happen,” he said next. But instead of sitting, he stalked about the room.

“I know.”

“I think you should realize I've already decided it would be…ill-advised for us to get involved.”

He sounded so absurdly formal. Had she been in full possession of her wits, she would have challenged him, demanded to know his reasons. But his kisses had left her senseless. Her own pride played a role in her reaction, too. She just looked at him, un willing, unable, to respond.

“I don't mean to insult you,” he added.

“You didn't,” she was quick to assure him, then hesitated, more confused than offended. “Are you saying you want to put a halt to the riding lessons?”

“Not at all. When will you be ready again?”

From the intense look in his eyes, Jane had the feeling he was inquiring about a lot more than horse back riding. “Tomorrow?” She raised her eyes to his. She wasn't shy or cowardly or afraid of risks. Medicine wasn't a career for a woman who was weak at heart. If she had been, Jane wouldn't have lasted a month in medical school.

“I'll see you at three,” he said on his way out the door.

“I'll be there,” she called after him. It'd take more than
stubborn pride to upset her. She had a strong feeling that Cal Patterson had met his match—and an even stronger feeling that she'd met hers.

 

R
ICHARD WAS BORED BUT HE WAS
smart enough to realize that the moment he left Bitter End, he'd risk being caught and hauled to jail.

By now, despite switching license plates, the truck he'd “borrowed” would be listed in a police computer as stolen. Relieving his boredom by leaving the ghost town was a risk he couldn't afford to take, although it was damned tempting.

Leaning his chair against the side of the old hotel, he strummed a few chords on his guitar. Only, it wasn't nearly as much fun to play without an audience.

He reached for the half-empty whiskey bottle and indulged in a healthy swig. The liquor wasn't going to last, he could see that. He'd drunk twice as much as he'd estimated. His limited supply would need to see him through the next few months. A bottle wasn't much company on the long lonely nights, but it was all he had. Hell, a man took what he could get.

He strummed a few more chords on the guitar and sang half heartedly. If his life had taken a different turn, he might have entered show business, made a name for himself. He would've enjoyed that.

He returned the bottle to his lips, shuddering at the potency of the drink. Enough liquor would help him forget. Or help him remember. Problem was, he couldn't decide which he wanted anymore.

He tipped back his head and shouted with everything in him, “Is anyone home?” He waited for a response and was both relieved and disheartened when none came.

Even a ghost might be some company.

According to the days he'd marked off on the calendar, this was Friday night. If he'd still been in Promise, instead of hiding up in this godforsaken ghost town, he'd probably be at Billy D's, drinking with the boys. Shooting the breeze, playing pool or maybe a game of darts.

He'd be singing, too, along with the jukebox. A little David Allan Coe, the ex-con turned singer. His music could get raunchy and off-color, but Richard didn't mind. It was just the thing for a Friday night at the saloon.

But this Friday—and how many others to follow?—Richard would be alone.

What he missed even more was female companionship. He could have had a cozy love nest here had he been thinking clearly. But everything had come down on him and there hadn't been time to find a woman to bring with him—or maybe two.

The loneliness wouldn't be half so bad with a couple of sweet young things to keep him occupied. Yeah, he could've convinced them this was an adventure. And he could've let them fight over him, which was guar an teed to be entertaining. Not too hard on his ego, either. Women didn't walk away when
he
was around. All except Ellie Frasier, now Ellie Patterson. Richard frowned. He didn't know what he'd done wrong. Her choosing Glen Patterson over him hurt his pride.

“She's a fool,” he said aloud.

One day Ellie would regret her choice, Richard was sure of it. She could have married him, instead of that hick Patterson. Every thing had gone downhill after that.

The creditors had started closing in and it'd become impossible to hide the charges he'd made on Grady's accounts. As soon as Grady learned the truth, he would have kicked him out. But Richard hadn't given his brother the chance; moving with speed, he'd left Promise before any of it came to light.

He'd carefully worked out every detail of his plan, stocking up on stolen food and supplies for weeks be fore hand. It wasn't an easy task, but he'd been at his deceptive best. He was proud of the way he'd pulled it off, too, keeping his activities hidden from the family.

Grady and Savannah were pathetic, really.

As far as Richard was concerned, his brother and sister deserved everything they got. Anyone that trusting needed to be taught a lesson. Richard had burned them twice, and it hadn't been difficult. He wondered if they'd ever learn; he suspected they wouldn't. They weren't the type, neither one of them. He experienced a twinge of guilt but refused to waste time on a useless emotion. Grady and Savannah were nothing short of gullible. He looked at it this way—he'd done them a favor. Taught them a life lesson. He couldn't help it if they were slow learners.

A shooting star blazed across the autumn sky and Richard raised his bottle in salute. He wished he had a woman on his arm, but okay, that wasn't possible. His little home away from home was a damn sight better than a jail cell, and that was where he was headed if the law ever got hold of him.

Life was much too complicated, Richard mused. What had started out as a simple transaction back in New York had gone sour. The bad taste of it lingered in his mouth, but there was no use fretting about it now.

In addition to his many talents, Richard Weston was a survivor. He might be down but he wasn't out, and once his current troubles came to an end, he'd be back on his feet.

If Ellie had married him, he would've used her inheritance to pay off some rather dangerous debts—and to grease the right palms. But she was with Glen. Stupid woman. She didn't know a good thing when she saw it.

He tipped back the bottle, took another drink and imme
diately felt worse. He was lonely and restless. All the self-talk in the world wasn't going to change that. While he might be safe, he wasn't happy.

J
ANE REMOVED THE BLOOD-PRESSURE
cuff from Ruth Bishop's upper arm and noted the reading on her chart. Ruth's diastolic and systolic numbers were well within the normal range, which was good. The medication was doing its job.

“Overall, how are you feeling?” Jane asked as she reached for her prescription pad to write a renewal.

“Good,” Ruth said after a short hesitation.

Jane looked up. “Is there anything else you'd like me to check? You're here now and I'd hate to have you think of something later.” Jane held office hours on Saturday morning because it seemed a convenient time for a lot of people. If Ruth decided, once she got home, that she
did
have some other concern, Jane wouldn't be available again until Monday. Not only that, Ruth would have to make the long drive a second time.

Jane waited quietly for a minute or so.

Ruth finally spoke. “Actually it's my daughter-in-law,” she said.

Jane sat down and made herself comfortable. It'd taken her a while to realize that, when it came to confidences, people
shared at their own pace and in their own way. Not just the people in Promise, Texas, but people every where.

“Nell was in last night with Jeremy,” Jane said, wanting Ruth to know she was familiar with her daughter-in-law.

“I know. Jeremy said that for a lady doctor you weren't half-bad.”

Jane unsuccessfully hid a smile.

“He meant that as a compliment,” Ruth said, her cheeks growing pink.

“Don't worry, Ruth, I hear that all the time.”

“It's difficult for some folks to get used to the idea of a female doctor.”

Ruth wasn't telling Jane something she didn't already know.

“I'm living with Nell,” Ruth explained, “helping her out when I can. Encouraging her. It was a blow to both of us when Jake died… I never expected my son would join his father before me.” Her eyes teared up, and Jane leaned forward to hand her a tissue. Ruth thanked her in a choked voice and dabbed her eyes.

“So…what about Nell?” Jane asked gently, giving the older woman time to compose herself.

“Early this morning I found her in the living room weeping. That's not like her. She's not a woman who shows her pain. When we buried Jake, it was Nell who remained strong, who com forted the family, who held us all together. I don't know what we would've done without her.”

From her psychology classes, Jane remembered that in a family crisis there was usually one member who remained emotionally steady for others to lean on for support. She'd seen the truth of this time and again. Some times family members traded roles, almost taking turns, at comforting and helping one another through a crisis.

“Nell shed her share of tears, I know that,” Ruth said, “but she did it privately. She loved my son, grieves for him still.”

“I'm sure that's true,” Jane said. She hardly knew Nell, but the widow was unmistakably a strong independent woman, someone she'd like to call a friend.

“Jeremy's broken arm shook her more than I realized. I wasn't home at the time. The Moor house sisters, Betty Knoll and I play bridge on Friday nights. Edwina and Lily bring out their cordial—same recipe Dovie uses—and we let down our hair and relax.”

Jane could picture the four older women and suspected they were cracker jack bridge players.

“Nell told me Jeremy had climbed on the tractor. That he fell off and broke his arm.” Ruth grew quiet for a moment. “You may not know this, but Jake died in a tractor accident. It must have been terribly up set ting for Nell finding Jeremy by the tractor. Especially since she's the one who found Jake. He was still alive and in shock, but was gone before help could reach him.”

“I'm so sorry,” Jane murmured. She could only imagine the horror of finding your husband trapped beneath a tractor. Nell had been pale and shaken when she arrived with Jeremy, Jane remembered; she must have been reliving that unbearable time. Thank heaven Cal had been at the clinic and was able to distract Nell while she dealt with the injured boy.

“It's been almost three years since Jake's been gone. It doesn't seem like it could be that long, but it is.”

“It's a big adjustment, losing a son,” Jane said softly.

“And losing a husband. Last night I found Nell sitting in her rocker by the fire place,” Ruth said, continuing with her story. “It was three in the morning, and when I asked her what woke her up, Nell told me she hadn't been to bed yet.”

“Had she been up with Jeremy?” The question was
prompted by Jane's concern that perhaps the pain medication hadn't worked adequately. After the shock of a broken bone, Jeremy needed his rest. His mother did, too.

“No. Nell was…remembering.” Ruth fell silent for a moment. “I…I worry about my daughter-in-law,” she admitted. “It's time she moved on with her life. Met someone else.”

Jane said nothing, prefer ring to let the other woman speak.

“I don't think it's a good idea for her to spend the rest of her life grieving for Jake,” Ruth said, her own voice trembling with emotion. “I know…knew my son and he wouldn't have wanted that.”

“Have you told her this?” Jane asked.

“Oh, yes, a number of times. She brushes it off. Last summer, for the Cattlemen's Association Dance, she received two invitations. I was ecstatic, thinking it was past time the men in this town paid her some attention.”

Jane was thinking Nell had done better than she had herself. No one had asked her, but then, she'd been new to the community and hadn't met a lot of people yet. By that she meant Cal. He would've been her first choice had she known him.

“Nell turned down both offers,” Ruth said, pinching her lips in disapproval. “No amount of coaxing could get her to change her mind, either.” She exhaled noisily and Jane recognized Ruth's impatience with her daughter-in-law. “As it turned out, Emma had an upset tummy that night, so Nell made a quick appearance at the dance but came home within the hour. I was baby-sitting and I told her to stay as long as she wanted—have a good time, I said, but she'd have none of it.”

It sounded to Jane as though Emma's upset stomach had been a convenient excuse for Nell to hurry home.

“How can I encourage her?” Ruth asked.

This was at the heart of her worries, Jane realized. “You can't,” she said.

“But it's been almost three years,” Ruth said again.

“Nell has to be the one to recognize when it's time. No one else can do that for her.”

“I know, but I'd like her to get out more. Socialize. Spend time with her friends, but she hardly even does that. Nell works too hard and laughs too little.”

“It's not something you can force,” Jane said. “Nell will know when she's ready.”

“I hope it's soon,” Ruth murmured. “My son was a wonderful man, but she's too fine a woman to pine for him the rest of her life. Much too fine.”

Jane was sure that was true.

 

S
TORM CLOUDS DARKENED
the afternoon. Glancing toward the sky, Cal hurried outside. Electrical storms weren't uncommon in the Texas Hill Country, and he wanted his live stock in the shelter of the barn.

The dogs helped him and he'd gotten Atta Girl and a chest nut mare named Cheyenne safely into the barn when he saw Jane's car pull into the yard. Damn, with the approach of the storm, he'd for got ten about the lesson. Despite that, she hadn't been far from his thoughts all day. Not since the moment he'd first kissed her.

He didn't know what had driven him to do anything so foolish, especially after insisting there was no future in this relationship. Impulse, he supposed—an impulse he planned to avoid from now on.

Frightened by the thunder, Moon shine, Glen's favorite gelding, pranced about the yard, making him difficult to catch. He
wouldn't have given Glen nearly as much trouble, but there was nothing Cal could do about that now.

The wind howled and the first fat drops of rain fell hap hazardly from the sky. “Can I help?” Jane had to shout to be heard.

“Go in the house before you get soaked,” Cal ordered. The rain was falling steadily now, and Cal knew it would only grow more intense.

“I can do something!”

He should've known she'd insist on helping him. Dr. Texas wasn't the type who took orders willingly. Cal groaned; he certainly knew how to pick 'em. He couldn't be attracted to a docile eager-to-please female. Oh, no, that would be too easy. Instead, he had to go and complicate his life with a woman whose personality was as strong and obstinate as his own.

Against his wishes, Jane ran to the corral and stood on the opposite side, waving her hands high above her head. To Cal's amazement Moon shine had a change of heart. Either that, or the quarter horse was so unsettled by the sight of a California girl flapping her arms around, he figured the barn was the safest place for him. In an abrupt turnaround, the gelding trotted obediently into the barn, one of the dogs barking at his heels.

Cal followed him inside and out of the rain. He waited for Jane to join him before closing the door. The rain fell in ear nest, a real downpour, pounding the ground with such force the drops ricocheted three inches upward.

Cal led Moon shine into his stall. “I didn't think you'd come, what with the storm and all,” he told Jane.

“I wasn't sure I should.”

It went against his pride to let her know how pleased he was she had.

“Do you want me to drive home?” she asked, sounding oddly uncertain and a bit defensive.

It was the way he'd feel had circumstances been reversed. “You're here now. The weather's a write-off but we'll make the best of it.” Which shouldn't be too hard. Dr. Texas looked damn good in her hip-hugging jeans and boots.

He removed his jacket and handed it to her. “Let's make a run for the house.” Opening the barn door, he looked out and cringed. The rain was still coming down in torrents and it was almost impossible to see across the yard. They'd be drenched to the skin by the time they reached the house.

Holding the jacket above her head for protection, Jane moved beside him to view the downpour. “My goodness, does it rain like this often?”

“Often enough,” he muttered.

“I've never seen anything like it.”

Seeing she'd been born and raised in Southern California, Cal could believe that. He'd read about small towns near Death Valley where the children had never seen rain at all.

“You ready?” he asked.

“Any time,” she said, with a game smile.

Lightning flashed. Not willing to wait any longer, Cal offered Jane his hand. She clasped it tightly and held the jacket over her head with her free hand. They sprinted toward the house, sliding a bit on the muddy ground. He kept his pace deliberately even, fearing she might slip.

Breathing hard, they burst into the house together. Jane released Cal's hand immediately. The water dripped from him as if he'd just stepped out of the shower, and his clothes were plastered to his skin.

“You're drenched,” Jane said and gave him back his jacket. Despite the protection it had provided, her hair and face glistened with rain water.

“So are you,” he said, and for the life of him, he couldn't pull his gaze away from hers.

“Not like you.” She moistened her lips with her tongue and that was Cal's downfall. He'd already promised himself there wouldn't be a repeat of the kiss they'd shared last night, but nothing could have stopped him from sampling her lips once more. He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers.

He wasn't sure what he expected, but not her sigh of welcome. Nor had he anticipated her stepping farther into his embrace. His breathing grew heavy and so did hers. The kiss deepened and she slipped her arms around his neck and moved even closer. The feel of her soft body against his was enough to make him weak at the knees.

He lifted his head. “I'm getting you all wet.”

“I know.”

“You shouldn't have come,” he whispered, although his head and his heart waged battle.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No.” His response was instantaneous. Direct. Reluctantly he eased her out of his arms. “I'll go change.”

“I'll put on a pot of coffee.”

He nodded and headed toward the stairway, taking the steps two at a time. Every minute not spent with her felt wasted, and he was a frugal man.

He stripped off his shirt, then flung it aside, drying himself with a towel. He reached for a sweater and pulled it over his head. He'd just donned a clean pair of jeans and had stepped back into his boots when the electric lights flickered and went off.

The house was almost completely dark. Even though it was mid afternoon, the heavy black clouds closed out the light.

“Jane,” he shouted from the top of the stairs, “are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” she called back.

“I'll be right there.” Cal draped his wet clothes over the edge of the bathtub and ran a comb through his hair before going down stairs. He got a flash light from the hallway and found Jane in the kitchen standing next to the stove.

“I guess we'll have to do without the coffee,” she said.

“Will wine do?” he asked.

“Great idea.” His eyes were adjusting to the darkness and he saw her smile at him.

It would be easy to get lost in one of those smiles. “I'll get a fire going.” He took her hand and led her into the living room. He knelt in front of the brick fire place, arranged the kindling, then placed a couple of logs on top. The match flared briefly and ignited the wood. Soon a fire burned invitingly, its warmth spreading into the room.

“This is cozy, isn't it?” Jane said, huddling close to the fire.

“I'll be back in a minute with the wine.” As it happened, he had a number of bottles left over from the wedding that had never taken place. He'd wanted Glen and Ellie to use the wine at theirs, but Glen had declined, insisting Cal save it for a rainy day. Like right now, Cal thought wryly.