Heart of Texas Vol. 2 (27 page)

Tammy Lee all but draped her arms around his neck, nuzzling his ear like some annoying insect he longed to bat away.

Dovie offered them both a brave if shaky smile. “Hello, Frank. Hello, Tammy Lee,” she said. And then, with the grace of the lady she was, she turned and walked into the theater.

J
ANE SAW
C
AL EVERY DAY AFTER
their rainy afternoon. The riding lessons continued, but they found other reasons to be together, too. After their first date he no longer made an issue of their not becoming involved and she was glad. She particularly liked meeting him at the ranch, liked seeing him in his own world, which was new and strange and enchanting to her.

It was Sunday, two weeks after the storm. For her riding lesson that afternoon, they rode to the farthest pasture with Digger, Cal's dog, racing along beside them. The day was glorious, a perfect autumn day with temperatures still in the mid-seventies.

Jane had become almost comfortable in the saddle. Either she'd built up calluses on that part of her anatomy, she thought wryly, or she'd gained skill. Probably a combination of both.

Jane frequently mentioned Cal in her letters and phone calls home. She'd taken a great deal of ribbing from her father about this penchant she had for horse back riding. He told her he'd thought she'd outgrown it when she was thirteen. Like
many girls, she'd been horse-crazy, reading horse stories and collecting figurines. In a way, what Cal had given her was the opportunity to live a long-ago dream.

“You're quiet this afternoon,” Cal remarked when they reached the crest of the hill.

The view of the pasture below was breath taking. Cattle grazed there, scattered picturesquely about the fields. Cal had explained earlier that most of his herd had been sold off now, and he was wintering a relatively small number of bulls and heifers.

“I'm thinking,” she said in response to his observation.

“I hope it isn't taxing you too much.”

“The only thing that taxes me is you.”

“Me?” He pre tended to be insulted.

“You keep putting me off.”

The laughter faded from his eyes. He knew exactly what she was talking about. She hated to be a pest, but she wasn't going to let him delay much longer. The ghost town beckoned her; she'd actually started to dream about it. Her mother had mailed her a thick book about Texas ghost towns, but Bitter End wasn't included. It amazed her that an entire town could be tucked away in these hills and so few people knew about it.

“I spoke with Grady and Savannah this afternoon,” Cal told her.

“Why didn't you say something sooner?” she asked. It was what she'd been waiting to hear, as Cal knew very well. Savannah had been to the town earlier in the year and apparently found the most incredible old roses blooming in the cemetery. Having visited the town fairly recently, Savannah would be able to give her and Cal directions and save them the trouble of a long search.

When Cal didn't answer, she pressed, “Aren't you going to tell me what they said?”

“In a little while.”

Jane was beginning to understand Cal. He didn't like being pressured and would eventually get to the point—but he preferred to do it without coaxing from her. Her patience was usually rewarded, and considering how good he'd been to her, how generous with his time, she could wait.

“This truly is God's country, isn't it?” she said. Cal had helped her develop a love of the land. He didn't preach or lecture about it. Instead, he allowed her to see and feel it for herself. He'd taught her to appreciate what it meant to be a real cowboy, too. Some people thought that cowboys were a dying breed, but for Cal, the work and the life were vital and worth while. There wasn't a task on the Lonesome Coyote Ranch he couldn't handle—branding cattle to breaking horses to birthing calves.

“Do you mean that, about this being God's country?” he asked.

“Yes.” And she did. The land was astonishingly beautiful. What she'd come to love about it was what Cal referred to as “elbow room.” The hill country was gentle rolling hills and pasture land that was fresh, green, limitless.

Cal had told her he could ride as far as the eye could see, to the horizon and beyond, and not meet another soul. This was something she was only beginning to fathom. So much space!

“What about California?” he asked.

“It's beautiful, too, but not like this.”

Cal shook his head. “Too populated. That stuff about earthquakes—it seems to me Mother Nature's saying there're just too many people living in one spot and she's just trying to shake them loose.”

He glanced her way as if expecting her to argue with him. She merely smiled and shrugged. She had no intention of ruining a perfect afternoon by getting involved in some pointless argument. Not when the wind was gently blowing in her face and the sweet smells of earth and grass rose up to meet her.

The silence out here took time to accept. At first she'd felt the need to fill their rides with chatter, but as she spent more and more time around Cal, she'd begun to appreciate the lack of sound, to stop fearing it. Cal, by his own ad mission, wasn't much of a talker. He'd shown her that silence had its own sound, but with the frantic pace of her life, she'd been unable to hear it.

They dismounted, and the two horses drank from the creek. Jane walked over to an oak and leaned against the trunk, one leg bent. Cal picked a handful of wild flowers and handed her the small bouquet.

She rewarded him with a kiss on his cheek. From the way his eyes flared she knew he would've liked to kiss her properly. They'd done plenty of that lately, their attraction growing each time they met. Cal backed away from her now, as if that would help remove him from temptation.

“Tell me what it means to be a rancher,” she said.

His gaze held hers. “In what way?”

“I want to know about cattle.”

He frowned, then squatted down and plucked a blade of grass. “A good cowboy can tell just by looking at a cow if she's healthy. Her coat'll tell him if she's eating right. The eyes let him know if she's in any kind of trouble.”

Jane gave him an encouraging nod. “Go on.”

“It's gotten to the point where I can look at a heifer and know when she's ready to spill her first calf,” Cal continued. “And one glance at a calf'll tell me if it's suckled that day or been separated from its mother.”

Jane was fascinated. “Tell me more.”

“It's said some folks don't forget a face. A good rancher doesn't forget a cow.”

“You're joking, right?”

His smile told her he wasn't. “They have their own personalities, and they're as individual as you and me. I know that the old cow with the missing horn likes to hide in the willow trees, and the one with a patch of white on its backside is a leader. That one with a cut ear—” he pointed “—is likely to charge a horse and rider.

“My job, if that's what you're asking, is to care for the cows. The cows then tend the calves, and trust me, each cow knows her own calf. She can pick out her baby in a herd of hundreds.”

Jane was astonished but didn't doubt him for a second.

“Cows are constantly on my mind,” he said, then cast her a look and added, “or used to be.”

She felt a warm glow and smiled.

“I think about them morning, noon and night,” he went on. “I watch them, study them, and work hard to improve the quality of the herd.”

“How do you do that?”

“Every year is a gamble. Weather, disease, the price of beef. With so many things that can go wrong, I cut my losses early and often. If a heifer doesn't breed, she's sold, or if she calves late, she might not get a second chance. I expect a cow to deliver nine calves in nine years, and if she skips a year, I sell her. That might sound harsh, and I often agonize over these decisions. My cattle are more than a commodity to me. The future of Lonesome Coyote is based on the everyday decisions Glen and I make.”

Jane had no idea ranching was so complicated. It was a
consuming life that required not only hard physical work but research, complex decision-making and business skills.

“Glen and I, along with Grady, have been doing quite a bit of cross-breeding in the past few years, mostly with long-horns. Breeding exceptional cattle isn't as easy as it sounds. Despite the use of artificial insemination and genetics, it's an inexact science that relies on good stock, good weather and good luck.” He grinned. “Hey, stop me if I'm lecturing. This is more talking than I normally do in a month.”

Jane grinned back. “I hadn't realized there were so many breeds of cattle—although I guess I associate long horns with Texas.”

“At one time there were more than six million long horns in Texas, but by the late 1920s, they were close to extinction.”

“I read that they were making a comeback.”

Cal nodded. “They are.” He de scribed his cross-breeding program in some detail, and Jane found herself listening avidly to every word. Biology had—naturally—always interested her.

“Cal, I've really enjoyed hearing all this.”

His eyes narrowed as if he wasn't sure he should believe her.

“I'm coming to love Texas,” she said happily. And Cal Patterson, too, but she kept those feelings buried for now, fearing what would happen if she acknowledged how she felt.

“What about California?”

“It's my home—I love it, too.”

“You'll go back,” he said, his face tightening.

It seemed as if he was challenging her to deny it. Jane didn't, but every day California seemed farther and farther away. Her life was here in Texas now. After years of planning to go into partnership with her uncle Ken, she found the thought start
ing to lose its appeal. Promise needed her, and she was only beginning to understand why she needed Promise.

“It's time we headed back,” Cal said and went to collect the horses.

“What did Grady and Savannah say about Bitter End?” she blurted, anxious to know.

Cal stopped. “They both tried to talk me out of taking you there.”

“Did they succeed?”

He took a long time to answer. “I know you. You're determined to find that town with or without me. You told me as much. And after what they said, I'm inclined to let you try.”

“You will take me there, won't you, Cal?” she asked, nervous about his response.

He nodded. “When's your next day off?”

“Wednesday.”

“We'll go then.”

“Thank you. Oh, thank you!” She raced toward him, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

He groaned. “I swear you're going to be the death of me,” he muttered.

“But I promise it'll be a great way to die.”

 

T
HE ACHE INSIDE
D
OVIE
refused to go away. When she hadn't seen or heard from Frank in several days, she'd been almost glad. Every time he came to visit her, it was more and more difficult to send him away. She was afraid that her resolve was weakening. She missed him, missed their times together and the companionship they'd shared. She'd never felt more alone, not even after Marvin had died.

Despite his talk, the last thing she expected Frank to do was go out with another woman, especially this soon. It told her everything she needed to know. Seeing him with Tammy
Lee had been one of the most disheartening experiences of her life.

Dovie hated to think unkindly about anyone, but Tammy Lee and Louise Powell were enough to try the patience of a saint. From the way Tammy Lee was clinging to Frank, massaging his back, rubbing her leg down his calf, Dovie realized they'd already become lovers. The thought cut with the sharpness of a knife, and she braced herself against the pain.

The fact that business was slow was a blessing in disguise. In her current state of mind, Dovie was practically useless. She wandered around her shop, unable to sit still, unable to think clearly. Her eyes would start to water for no reason, and somehow it always surprised her; she thought she'd cried all the tears left inside her.

Frank was out of her life once and for all.

The bell above the shop door tinkled and Louise Powell casually strolled in wearing a smug look.

Dovie groaned inwardly. “Hello, Louise,” she said, determined to reveal none of her feelings.

“Oh, hello, Dovie.” The woman bestowed a saccharine-sweet smile on her.

“Is there anything I can help you find?” she asked, silently praying that whatever Louise wanted was out of stock so she'd leave.

“I'm just browsing,” Louise said, wandering from one display to another. She picked up a pair of Kirks Folly earrings and held them to her face, examining her reflection in the mirror. “Nice,” she said, then glanced at the price, raised a brow and set them back down.

“I don't suppose you have any of those rubber piles of dog do-do? They make the funniest practical jokes.”

“I'm afraid not,” Dovie said. As if she'd actually sell such an outrageous item!

“Hmm,” Louise murmured. “So how are you doing these days, Dovie?”

“Wonderful.” Dovie gritted her teeth.

“I understand you're leaving on your cruise soon?”

Dovie was looking forward to it more every day. “Yes.”

“It must be coming up next week.”

Dovie wondered how Louise knew this. “That's right.”

“With Frank out of your life, I imagine you're hoping to meet another man.”

Dovie said nothing.

“It's a shame, really,” Louise said. “I always thought you and Frank made a handsome couple.”

Again Dovie said nothing.

“But your loss appears to be Tammy Lee's gain.”

Dovie's nails bit into her palms. “I wish them both well,” she said.

Louise shook her head. “You're a marvel, Dovie, a real marvel. I don't know if I could be nearly as magnanimous. Tammy Lee was afraid you were offended about her going out with Frank, but I can see that isn't so. You're the picture of generosity.”

Dovie forced a smile and hoped Louise didn't notice how brittle it was.

“Tammy Lee's without a man right now,” Louise rambled on, “and she's thrilled to be dating Frank. He's such an attractive man.”