Heart of Texas Vol. 2 (28 page)

“Yes, he is.” Dovie eased her way toward the front door. Fortunately Louise followed.

“It was good seeing you again,” Louise said.

“You, too,” Dovie lied.

Louise left and Dovie sank into a chair. The knot was back in the pit of her stomach, and she wondered if it'd ever go away.

That evening Dovie fixed herself a salad but had no appetite. Her home, after thirty years in the same place, suddenly felt too large. Perhaps this was a sign she was ready for a change, a drastic one. She'd been born and raised in Promise, and she'd seen precious little of the world. The upcoming cruise would give her a sample of what life was like outside the great state of Texas, but the cruise was only a few days long. Afterward she'd be back dealing with people like Louise, who relished rubbing Frank's new relationship in her face.

Dovie didn't know if she could bear it. For the first time in her life she seriously considered moving. With the money from the sale of her home and business, plus what was left of Marvin's life insurance, she could live comfortably. Nothing else held her in Promise. She'd stay in touch with the friends she had and make new ones.

The phone rang. Absently Dovie reached for it, studying her home with fresh eyes, wondering how long it would take to sell.

“Hello, Dovie.”

The shock of hearing Frank's voice was nearly her undoing. She grabbed hold of the kitchen chair, feeling as though she might faint.

“Frank.”

The telephone line hummed with silence.

“How are you?” Frank asked tentatively as if he didn't know what to say.

She was at a loss about how to respond and decided on a lie, doubting he wanted the truth. “Good, and you?”

“All right. Mostly I was phoning to see if you needed anything.”

A new heart to replace the one you stabbed,
she answered silently. “I…don't need anything,” she said. “Thank you for asking.”

Frank said nothing for a moment. “About the other night…I thought I should explain.”

“Frank,” she said swiftly, “please, there's no need to explain anything to me.”

“But I thought—”

“No, please. I prefer not to know.”

“But, Dovie—”

“Whom you date is none of my business. I knew when we parted—when we decided we were at an impasse—that you'd be seeking…companionship else where.” Only, she'd credited him with more taste.

“You're the one taking the cruise,” he reminded her, the coolness in his voice testifying to his displeasure.

Dovie had nothing to say about her vacation plans, especially not to Frank.

“I've heard about those cruises,” Frank continued. “I've seen reruns of
Love Boat.
People book those fancy liners looking for romance.”

“I'm sure that's true in some cases.” Not in hers, however. Now seemed as good a time as any to put his mind to rest regarding the future. “I've been giving some thought to…to making certain changes in my life.”

“I'm hoping you're about to tell me you want me back.” His eagerness was certainly a balm to her wounded pride.

“No, Frank.”

“You're going to be looking for another man, right?” he accused.

“No, Frank,” she repeated. “I'm not seeking out a new romantic interest.”
Unlike you
—but she refused to say it. “I'm thinking of selling the house and moving.”

Her words were met with silence, then, “You don't mean it!”

“Yes, Frank, I do.”

“But why?”

“You have to admit it's very awkward for us both. You're dating again now and—”

“One date, Dovie. I swear to you that's all it was.”

“It doesn't matter.”

“I don't even like Tammy Lee.”

But there were bound to be others. Dovie didn't know if she had the strength to stand back and smile while the man she loved became involved with another woman. The only thing worse than seeing Frank with someone like Tammy Lee would be seeing him with someone who could be right for him. A woman who'd love him the way she did.

“What about your antique shop?” he asked. “You care about that store. It took you years to put everything together, and now you've added the Victorian Tea Room.”

“I'll have to sell it—either that or close it down.”

“But the women in town love your store!”

“Then perhaps one of them will be willing to purchase it.”

“You don't mean it,” Frank said again, his voice rising. “This is just another ploy to get me to change my mind and marry you.”

That he would believe her capable of such a thing hurt. “No, Frank, it's not. I'm contacting the real estate people in the morning. Perhaps I shouldn't have mentioned it, but I felt you should know. Goodbye, Frank.”

“I'm not going to marry you or anyone,” he shouted as if she was hard of hearing.

“Yes, you've made that quite clear.” At this point, if he
had
experienced a sudden change of heart, Dovie wasn't sure she'd agree to marry him, anyway.

 

C
AL WASN'T HAPPY WITH THE IDEA
of finding Bitter End and he wouldn't be going there now, but for Jane.

He drove into Promise, hoping that when he arrived she'd have changed her mind, but one look told him he might as well save his breath. Jane opened the front door, and when she saw him, practically launched herself into his arms.

“I'm so excited!” she said, hugging him.

It was be ginning to feel damn good to hold her. Be ginning, hell, it felt like this was exactly where she belonged. Once again Cal forced himself to remember that Jane would put in her stint here, but when her three years were up, she'd return to California.

“I spent part of the morning with Savannah,” he said and withdrew a slip of paper from his shirt pocket. “She drew me a map showing us how to get to Bitter End.”

“That's wonderful!”

Cal didn't agree.

“You're sure you'd rather drive?” She sounded disappointed that they wouldn't be going on horse back.

“I'm sure.” He spread the map on top of the coffee table for her to examine.

She pored over it and then smiled up at him with such enthusiasm it was difficult not to feel some excitement himself. The problem was, Jane didn't understand what she was asking of him, and he couldn't find the words to explain it.

He'd seen the ghost town once, and that was all it had taken for him to know he never wanted to go back there. As teenagers, he and Glen and Grady had happened to overhear a conversation between his parents and the Westons. They'd been intrigued. Just as Jane was now.

They'd come up with a scheme to locate Bitter End on their own. The adventure had appealed to them; the secrecy, too. Cal remembered that he'd been the skeptical one of the
bunch. He wasn't sure he believed such a place existed. Glen seemed convinced the ghost town was there. Grady was undecided.

In the end it was Glen who turned out to be right. The old town was hidden deep in the hills, just as his parents had said. At first the three of them had been ecstatic, jumping up and down, congratulating each other. Cal remembered thinking that someone would probably include their names in a history book or a magazine article—as the boys who'd found a lost ghost town. Someone might even inter view them for television.

None of that had happened—and for a reason. Not one of them ever mentioned finding Bitter End to any of their peers and certainly not to their parents. In fact, they'd never mentioned it again—until recently.

It was almost as though they'd made a secret pact not to discuss what they'd found, but that hadn't been the case. They didn't talk about it because they weren't sure what had happened or how to explain it.

All Cal could recall was how uncomfortable he'd been. How the feelings of fear and oppressiveness had over whelmed him. The others had reacted the same way. After less than ten minutes all three had high tailed it out of town as if the hounds of hell were in hot pursuit.

“Should I bring a sweater?” Jane asked.

“That's probably a good idea.” Cal wished he could talk her out of this, but since that wasn't likely, he was determined to be there with her.

“I brought along a camera, too,” Jane said as she swung a backpack over her shoulder. “Mom asked me to get some pictures.”

“You mentioned the town to your mother?”

“Wasn't I supposed to?”

Cal wasn't sure how to answer. “No one around here talks about it much.”

“I know,” she said with a certain exasperation. “I don't understand that.”

“Perhaps you will once you've been there.”

“I wish I knew why everyone's so secretive about this place.”

Cal knew it wouldn't do any good to tell her. She'd soon discover the answer on her own.

The drive out of town went well enough. They discussed Savannah, who'd told Cal about her pregnancy. Cal was happy for her and Laredo. “I imagine Glen and Ellie will be thinking about children soon, too,” he said. “I hope so.”

“Cal, they're newlyweds.”

“Yes, but if my mother'd had anything to say about it, Ellie would've gotten pregnant on their wedding night and delivered their first grand child nine months and thirty seconds later.”

Jane laughed softly. “Your mother is eager for grand children to spoil. So is mine.”

Cal wasn't wading into those shark-infested waters, not for anything.

With the help of Savannah's map, they were able to locate the general vicinity of the town. It would have helped had the tire tracks not been washed away by the recent storm, but every now and then Cal recognized some landmark himself. It amazed him that the memory of these details hadn't been lost. Although it'd been years since his visit, Cal had repeated the journey in his mind many times since.

He parked the truck when they'd driven as far as possible.

“According to Savannah, we'll need to walk in from here.”

“I'm ready.”

Jane had dressed in khaki shorts, hiking boots and T-shirt; on his advice she'd also worn a hat. Cal held her hand as they climbed over the rocks and lime stone ledge.

“There,” he said, pointing as the town came into view below. Seeing it again stole his breath. The buildings, the way the streets were laid out, were almost exactly as he remembered, as though the years had stood still. The church, at the far end of town, still stood with its burned-out steeple. The grave yard was beside the church. Some of the buildings along the street were of sun-bleached wood, some of stone, now brown with age. Stores, a saloon, livery stable with a small corral, a mercantile and even a hotel. A corral was situated close to the hotel.

“This is incredible,” Jane breathed, slipping the backpack from her shoulders. She pulled out her camera and began shooting. “I can't believe it's here like this….”

Once she'd finished snapping pictures, Jane scram bled forward, bounding energetically over the rocks. Cal followed close behind, watching her, waiting for her reaction once she felt it.

He experienced the first sensation, a feeling of darkness and desolation, when they stepped onto the main street of Bitter End. Jane apparently did, too, because she stopped cold and slowly turned to face Cal. A puzzled frown appeared on her face.

“What
is
that?” she asked, lowering her voice to a whisper.

“What?” he asked, although he knew.

“This…this feeling.”

“I don't know.”

“You said this place was evil. I didn't know what you meant.”

“I wasn't sure how to say it,” Cal told her. But he could
find no other word to describe what he and the others had experienced that day.

Jane's grip on his hand tightened as they made their way down the middle of the street. “It's growing stronger,” she said in a weak whisper. “Do you feel it, too?”

“I feel it.” The sensation grew heavier and more intense with each step they advanced.

“Look!” Jane said, gesturing at a rocking chair outside the saloon.

“What?”

“There's a guitar there.”

“A guitar?” It took Cal a moment to see it, propped against the wall.

“That doesn't look like an antique, does it?” Jane said.

Cal went to investigate. He climbed the two short steps onto the board walk and reached for the guitar.

“Is it old?” Jane asked.

“This is no antique,” Cal said and frowned. Further more it was familiar. Where had he seen this guitar before? For the life of him, he couldn't remember.

“Cal, look!”

She was halfway down the street when Cal glanced up. He set the guitar down and raced after her. She was just outside what had once been the mercantile.

“What is it?” he asked.

She held up a half-full can of soda. “Someone's been here recently,” she said.

He nodded. “Very recently.” He was ready to leave even if she wasn't.

“Let's get out of here,” Jane said.

Cal grabbed her hand and they turned to go back the same way they'd come in.

It wasn't until they passed the livery stable that they heard
it. A moaning sound, coming from the hotel where Cal had stood only a minute or two ago.

Jane tensed and so did Cal. “What's that?” she whispered. “I didn't think I believed in ghosts, but…”

Cal had a sinking suspicion it wasn't a ghost. All at once he remembered where he'd last seen that guitar.

Bitter End didn't have ghosts, but it appeared to be populated by a single rat.

S
AVANNAH LOVED VISITING
Dovie's antique shop with its store house of treasures from earlier times. This particular visit was special for another reason—she planned to tell Dovie about the baby. Since Dr. Dickinson had con firmed her pregnancy, the knowledge that her child, Laredo's child, was growing inside her occupied more and more of her thoughts.

Dovie Boyd glanced up from behind the glass counter that displayed some of the shop's pricier antique china and jewelry.

“Savannah, my dear.” Dovie's greeting held her usual graciousness and warmth. “It's good to see you.”

“It's always a pleasure, Dovie.” Savannah noticed that her friend was pale this morning. Come to think of it, she'd seemed tired and listless for a while now. Savannah assumed that had something to do with her separation from Frank Hennessey, although Dovie had never discussed it.

“Can I help you find something?” Dovie asked, stepping around the glass counter.

“I'm looking for something special,” Savannah said, plac
ing her hand on her abdomen, “for our baby's nursery.” She waited for Dovie's reaction.

“I don't have much in the way of—” Dovie stopped midsentence and stared at Savannah, her eyes brightening. “So
that's
what's different.”

“You noticed already?” Savannah was only about two months along. It didn't seem possible that anyone would be able to detect the pregnancy this soon.

“In your eyes,” Dovie explained. “You're fairly glowing with happiness.” She smiled. “I know it's a cliché—that pregnant women have a glow about them—but like most clichés it has a basis in truth.”

Some days it was all Savannah could do not to burst into tears when she thought about all the wonderful changes that had taken place in her life this past year. The afternoon she'd found the ghost town and dug up the White Lady Banks roses in the church cemetery had forever changed her life. It was on the return drive that she'd seen Laredo Smith walking along the side of the road. To this day she didn't know what had possessed her to stop and offer him a ride. She'd never done anything like that before or since. Within a few months she'd become Laredo's wife and now they were expecting a child.

“I
am
happy,” Savannah said.

“You're radiant.” They hugged, and as the older woman pulled away, Savannah noticed again how drawn Dovie looked.

“You haven't been ill, have you, Dovie?” she asked, deciding she should ask, just to be sure.

“No. I just haven't been sleeping well.” She managed a smile and continued, “I have some news, too.”

Savannah had already heard that Mary Patterson had talked Dovie into a cruise; she was delighted. Dovie could use a vacation, however short, and her absence might clarify a thing or
two in Frank's mind. Dovie was a remarkable woman, and if Frank Hennessey didn't realize it, then the sheriff was more of a fool than she'd thought. But she knew Frank almost as well as she did Dovie and suspected that the problem, whatever it was, would soon be resolved.

“I've decided to sell the house.” Dovie's announcement was inflated with forced enthusiasm. “I'm going to be moving.”

“Moving,” Savannah repeated, trying to conceal her shock.

“I talked to a real estate agent this morning and I'll be listing the house this afternoon. I'm…not sure just yet what I'll do about the business.”

Speechless, Savannah needed time to recover.

“I know this comes as a surprise,” Dovie said.

“Where will you go?” Savannah asked, when in reality her question should have been
why
Dovie would go. Why she'd consider leaving Promise. This was her home. She was an essential part of this community, loved by everyone here. Her shop was the very heart of the town, a mingling of past and present, a constant reminder of the heritage that made Promise special to those who lived there.

“I've decided to do some traveling,” Dovie said, again with an eagerness that rang false. “I'm going to explore the world.”

“The world…”

“The United States, at any rate. I understand that Charleston's lovely, and I've never seen New York. I've never seen the Rockies…” Her voice tapered off.

This was more than Savannah could take in. She felt the sudden need to sit down. “I realize it's a bit early for tea, but perhaps you wouldn't mind putting on a pot?”

“Of course. And I'll make sure it's decaffeinated.”

While Dovie fussed with the tea, Savannah contemplated
what she should say. She thought about her own relationship with Laredo, remembering how she'd felt when he returned to Oklahoma and she didn't believe she'd see him again. She'd made changes in her life, too, needing to do
something
to combat the terrible pain of his leaving. The changes hadn't been drastic, although Grady and a few others had behaved as though they no longer knew her. Cutting her hair was a small thing. Dovie planned on packing up her fifty-seven years of life and leaving everything that was familiar.

Savannah noticed that her friend's hand trembled as she poured the tea.

“Why would you leave here?” Savannah asked gently. “I'd like to know the real reason you'd consider moving away from Promise.”

Dovie lowered her eyes and folded her hands in her lap. She didn't say anything for several tense moments. “Frank's dating Tammy Lee now and I can't bear—”

“Frank and Tammy Lee?” Savannah interrupted. She could hardly believe her ears. What man in his right mind would prefer that…that trashy Tammy Lee over Dovie?

“If it isn't Tammy Lee, it'll soon be someone else and…I can't abide seeing him fall in love with someone else.” Dovie pulled a limp lace-bordered hand kerchief from her pocket and dabbed her eyes.

Savannah leaned forward, hugging the woman who'd been both friend and substitute mother to her. She sympathized with the pain Dovie felt and wished there was something she could say or do that would ease her broken heart.

“Obviously I gave Frank more credit for intelligence than he deserves,” Savannah snapped. The next time she saw him, she'd give him a tongue-lashing he wouldn't soon forget.

Dovie quickly composed herself, clearly embarrassed by her show of emotion. “It isn't such a bad thing, my leaving
Promise,” she said on a more cheerful note. “I'm actually looking forward to traveling. Eventually, I'm sure I'll find some place in Montana or Colorado that reminds me of Promise. I'll settle right in and make a new life for myself.” Her enthusiasm appeared more genuine this time. Savannah hated the thought of losing Dovie, especially for a reason as
stupid
as Frank Hennessey's stubborn pride.

She was about to say something else when an antique doll caught her eye. Faded and tattered, it sat on the edge of a dresser. Dovie's gaze followed hers.

“Do you recognize the doll?” Dovie asked. “Jane Dickinson brought it in and asked me about it. Apparently someone brought it into her office and asked her to find the owner. It's quite old and rather fragile. Have you ever seen it before?”

Savannah walked over to look at the antique doll. She picked it up and carefully examined its faded embroidered face. The button eyes seemed to stare back at her. “I've never seen anything like this.”

“Me, neither.” Dovie shook her head.

“But…it looks like something that might have come from Bitter End.”

“Bitter End. That's what I thought,” Dovie said excitedly.

“But how would anyone have gotten hold of it?” Savannah asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Dovie frowned. “Apparently whoever gave the doll to Jane—she couldn't tell me who—did so because he or she felt guilty about taking it.”

“Why would anyone give it to…” Savannah paused.

“I suspect it was a child,” Dovie said thoughtfully.

“I was thinking that very thing,” Savannah murmured.

“It's highly unlikely that any child's been to Bitter End, though,” Dovie pointed out. “Other than a handful of people, who even knows about the town?”

All at once everything fell into place. “
Richard
knows about Bitter End,” Savannah said intently. “And he kid napped Maggie for several hours, remember? What if he took her to Bitter End? He could've either given the doll to Maggie in an attempt to buy her silence or else Maggie took it without him knowing.”

“Someone needs to ask Maggie about this,” Dovie said.

Her thoughts were a reflection of Savannah's own. Maggie had refused to talk about the time she'd been missing, despite numerous efforts by a number of people, herself included. Even knowing what she did about her brother, Savannah couldn't believe Richard would intentionally take the child. Everyone had been terribly worried—no one more than Savannah, whose fears had been com pounded by guilt. The child had been in her care when she disappeared, and Savannah had blamed herself.

Then early the next morning Maggie had come running down the driveway. For the rest of her life, Savannah would remember the way Grady had raced toward the child. At that moment she'd realized how much her brother had come to love Maggie. He might not have fathered her, but he'd always be a real father to the little girl. She'd long had her suspicions about Maggie's biological father, but had kept those to herself.

“Perhaps Grady should be the one to ask Maggie about the doll,” Savannah said. The little girl had refused to discuss where she'd been or who'd taken her, but she trusted Grady now and seemed willing to confide in him. Since she hadn't been physically harmed, Frank had felt they should count their blessings and leave it. He doubted Maggie would be able to help them locate Richard, anyway. However, that was before they knew about the doll.

“Someone should bring Frank into this, too,” Dovie said. “I understand there's a warrant out for Richard's arrest…” Her
voice faltered and she looked away. Whether her reaction was because of Frank or Richard, Savannah couldn't say.

“I'll have Grady call him.”

For the next couple of hours Savannah was involved in talking to people. She'd contacted Jane Dickinson's office and learned that it was her day off. Apparently she'd gone somewhere with Cal Patterson.

Caroline agreed Grady would be the right person to discuss the matter of the doll with Maggie. Sheriff Hennessey was brought in, as well, and suggested they talk to her at the ranch house.

Savannah returned to the ranch, baked bread and mulled over what she'd learned from Dovie. She was also worried about Richard. She knew he had a rifle, but didn't like to think that her brother would intentionally hurt anyone. After these past few months, though, she couldn't predict what he might do.

When Caroline and Maggie arrived late in the afternoon, they all gathered in the living room, together with Frank Hennessey. Maggie stayed close to her mother, glancing nervously about the room. Grady held his arms open and Savannah was gratified to see the child willingly sit next to him.

Grady opened the bag Dovie had given Savannah and withdrew the old tattered doll. “Do you recognize this?” he asked Maggie.

The little girl took one look at it and covered her face with both hands. Her shoulders started to shake. “I'm sorry I stole her! I'm sorry!”

“But the doll said she was glad.” Grady spoke with such gentle concern that Savannah wanted to kiss him. “She told me how grateful she was that she had someone to love her.”

Maggie lowered her hands and gazed at him with searching eyes. “She told you that?”

Grady nodded gravely. “She came from the ghost town, didn't she?”

Maggie's hands flew back to her face. “I'm not supposed to tell!”

“It's all right, Maggie,” Grady continued. “You won't be punished.”

“But Richard said Mommy would die if I told anyone. He said I'd never see her again and that she'd bleed real bad.”

Frank muttered a curse under his breath, and while Savannah wouldn't have used that precise language, she was in full agreement. That her brother would knowingly frighten the child in this manner was in excusable. His one re deeming act had been to bring Maggie back. He'd stolen another truck shortly there after, but at least Maggie had been safely returned.

“Some times people say things that aren't true.” Grady placed his arm around the child's shoulders, both shielding her and comforting her at once.

Maggie kept her head lowered as though she felt un decided about what to do.

“Is Richard at the ghost town?” Caroline asked softly.

“Will you die if I tell?” Maggie asked her mother.

“No, sweetheart, I won't die.” Caroline linked her fingers with Grady's. “I'm going to marry Grady very soon and we'll all be very happy.”

“Will you have other babies so I can be a big sister?” Savannah watched as Caroline met Grady's eyes, then nodded. “Yes, sweetheart, you'll have plenty of opportunities to be a big sister.”

“Can I really keep the doll?” Maggie asked next.

Grady raised the rag doll to his ear, his expression somber. Maggie watched his every move. Slowly, a bit at a time,
Grady's mouth formed a smile. “She says she needs someone to love her and take care of her and be kind to her.”

“I can do that,” Maggie said with a questioning glance at her mother.

“She needs lots of tender loving care,” Caroline added. “She's fragile and old.”

“I'll take good care of her,” Maggie promised. “I'll call her…Isabelle.”

Grady handed her the doll, and Maggie pressed Isabelle against her shoulder and gently patted her back.

“I'm sorry Richard lied to you,” Savannah felt obliged to say.

“I don't like Richard anymore,” Maggie said.

“You don't need to worry about seeing him again,” Frank Hennessey assured her. “Once I get my hands on him, he won't see the light of day for one hell of a long time.”