Heart of Texas Vol. 2 (31 page)

Cal flashed her a sexy grin and she blushed. Jane could actually feel the heat enter her cheeks. Only one man was capable of doing this to her, and that was Cal.

“I thought we'd take Mom and Dad to the Chili Pepper,” Jane said. “It's the best barbecue in town,” she explained to her parents.

“Great. A chance to taste au then tic Texas barbecue,” her father said jovially.

“Do they have a low-fat menu?” her mother asked.

“No.” Jane was adamant. “And don't ask for dressing on the side, either.”

“But, Jane—”

“Mother, trust me on this.”

“All right, all right,” her mother said.

Although the restaurant was only a few blocks away, her father insisted on driving. Since Cal and Jane had been in to eat a couple of times, the hostess greeted them by name and led them to a booth.

“The music's a little loud, isn't it?” her father complained the minute they were seated.

“They like it that way here,” Jane said.

“That country music's got a real twang to it.” Her mother grimaced as if she could barely stand to hear it.

“I was afraid you were going to develop an accent,” her father added, “and you'd end up sounding like that girl who's singing now.”

Jane offered Cal an apologetic smile, trying to convey that her parents didn't mean to be con descending. He nodded reassuringly.

A Willie Nelson song came on, and as usual, everyone in the restaurant sang along, Jane included. Her parents lowered their menus and stared, trans fixed by the boisterous songfest. The instant the tune ended, patrons and waiters went about their business again.

“This is Willie Nelson country,” Jane explained.

“Everyone in California feels the same way about the Beach Boys,” her mother said.

“Although I wouldn't call them
boys
anymore,” her father put in, and this time Cal and Jane both laughed.

They ordered their drinks—beer for everyone except Stephanie who was having iced tea, “with fresh lemons,” she'd specified.

“Can't decide, Mom?” Jane asked.

“It's all…so…”

“Western,” Jane supplied.

Her mother nodded.

“Mom, you aren't going to find nouvelle cuisine in Promise.”

“Oh, all right,” Stephanie Dickinson said with a sigh, closing her menu. “I'll have a salad. I just hope they serve a decent avocado.”

It was all Jane could do not to groan out loud. Especially since she was un com fort ably reminded of her own attitude a few months ago.

Her father was the conversationalist in the family and he began telling a story about stopping at a service station in a small town outside San Antonio. “I asked this old geezer how far it was to Promise and he said—” her father paused for effect “—it was down yonder.” He laughed until his eyes watered. “Then he corrected himself and said it was
way
down yonder.”

Jane noted that Cal didn't laugh nearly as hard. “Dad,” she said, “this
is
Texas.”

“I know, I know. When in Rome—”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Their meals arrived—three orders of barbecue and one green salad—and Jane relaxed as they began to eat.

“Did you know it's Jane's birthday?” her father asked when they were nearly finished.

“Dad!”

“As a matter of fact, I did,” Cal said. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small square box wrapped in white paper with a gold bow.

“Who told you?” Jane asked him.

He hesitated, then confessed, “Jenny.”

“My receptionist,” Jane told her parents.

“Aren't you going to open it?” her mother asked, eyeing the box.

“It's not an engagement ring, is it?” her father chided. “I don't want a cowpoke to steal my little girl's heart.”

“Dad!” Jane hurriedly removed the paper. Inside the jeweler's box was a Black Hills gold pendant and chain. Jane lifted her gaze to Cal's. “Thank you,” she whispered. “It's beautiful.”

For a second it was only the two of them. His eyes held hers for the sweetest moment. “So are you,” he said, for her ears only.

Jane removed the necklace from its cotton bed and Cal helped her put it on. When he'd finished, Jane noticed that her mother and father were watching them closely.

“So…you've adjusted to Texas?” her father asked un necessarily.

“I like it here.”

“Her attitude changed the night she won the Blackout Bingo jackpot,” Cal told them.

“You played bingo?” Her mother looked aghast.

“We all do, just about every Friday night.” Jane knew they didn't really understand that bingo was one of the few entertainment choices in a town the size of Promise.

“You're joking, I hope.” This from her father.

“I bowl, too.” Only once, but her family didn't have to know that.

Her mother gasped.

Jane laughed and squeezed Cal's hand. Oh, yes, their attitude was very much what her own had been like when she arrived here. She truly understood now, for the first time, why her reception in town had been cool. “It's another one of those when-in-Rome things.”

“Just don't bring these Texas habits with you when you come home,” her father said. “I can't imagine what Ken will think.”

“Ken is Harry's brother,” her mother explained. “Jane will be joining him at his medical clinic when she's finished her assignment here.”

“Eventually he's going to make our little girl a full partner,” her father said proudly and smiled at her. Jane gave him a feeble smile in return, wishing they'd kept this in formation to them selves.

“I see,” Cal said.

Jane felt him stiffen, and when she squeezed his hand again he didn't respond by squeezing her fingers back. She should have known this would happen, should have explained to Cal long before now about her uncle Ken. She would have, if she'd known what to say. Now he'd been hit with the information at the worst possible moment. She couldn't explain or reassure, not with her parents there. She'd lost her chance to tell him tactfully and in her own way.

They all rode back in the car to Jane's house, and her parents left shortly afterward, promising to stop by the health clinic the next morning, before they drove on to Oklahoma.

“I need to go, too,” Cal said, disappointing Jane. She'd hoped they'd have some time alone together.

“You can't stay a few minutes?” she pressed.

“No.”

“You'll phone later?” she asked as she walked him to the door.

“I'll try,” he said noncommittally.

“I'd like to explain what my parents said about me joining my uncle Ken's medical practice. I apologize for not mentioning it sooner. Nothing's for sure yet, and—”

“We'll talk about that later.”

“All right,” she mumbled, her heart sinking. His look told her everything. He was angry now, and felt betrayed, and it would be best to let him sort through his feelings before they talked this out. “Thank you for the necklace,” she told him, and despite his being upset with her, kissed him soundly on the lips.

 

H
E REALLY KNEW HOW TO PICK 'EM,
Cal decided, not for the first time. Jennifer, and now Jane. He must have a weakness for deceptive city girls. At least he hadn't made the mistake this time of asking the woman to marry him.

From this point forward he was determined to avoid all women whose names started with the letter
J.

Cal sat out on the porch in the moon light and reviewed the evening. He'd been looking forward to meeting Jane's parents, but it hadn't taken him long to discover that the elder Dickinsons viewed him and the entire population of Promise as hicks. However, he could live with that. What he couldn't live with was Jane's plans to join her uncle's medical practice. She might have said something herself, and a hell of a lot sooner. He could only assume she'd kept the in formation from him on purpose. She intended to go back to California, just the way he'd claimed; it sounded as though her life was already planned for her. Planned years into the future, with no room for someone like him.

His forehead pounded with an increasingly painful headache. Cal walked inside and turned on the kitchen light. Obviously he needed to have his head examined. Not because of the headache, but because he was fool enough to make the same mistake twice. Only this time it hurt more.

This time his heart was fully involved and he'd started to dream again.

 

C
AL EXPECTED
J
ANE TO SHOW UP
the following afternoon and she did. A few minutes before five he heard the familiar sound of her car; fortifying himself, he stepped out of the barn, eager to get this confrontation over with.

“Hello,” she called, closing her car door. She was dressed in her shirt and jeans and looked as brightly beautiful as a rodeo princess. He wanted to remember her like this.

“Hi,” he said, keeping all emotion out of his voice.

“Thanks for being so patient with my parents last night,” she said. “I can't believe some of the things they said.”

They stood a few feet apart, a little awkwardly.

She sighed and glanced sheepishly at him. “I realized I sounded just like them not so long ago.”

“You're right, you did.” He wasn't going to disagree with her.

“But I came around, with a little help from my friends.”

He nodded.

“Mostly from Dovie and you. Ellie, too.”

He didn't respond.

“I'm here for my lesson,” she said as if she needed to remind him.

“I'm afraid there won't be one today.”

Disappointment flashed from her eyes. “Oh.”

“You should have phoned first.”

“I…I…” She nodded. “You're right, I should have. Do you have time for a cup of coffee?”

His initial thought was to refuse her and hope she'd be smart enough to figure it out for herself. But he suspected it would take more than the cold shoulder for a woman as stubborn as Jane to get the message.

“All right, I'll make time for coffee,” he said, although he wasn't happy about it. He wanted her off his ranch and out of his life
now,
while he had the strength to let her leave.

He walked into the house, reheated the coffee and poured them each a mug. He carried the mugs out to the porch; no need to sit inside on an afternoon as pleasant as this.

“You didn't mention going into partnership with your uncle when you finished your assignment here,” he said bluntly.

“No,” she said. “It's always been accepted by the family that I would and—”

“It's all right, Jane, you don't need to explain it to me.”

Her relief was obvious. “I should have said something much sooner, I know, but I didn't want you to get the wrong idea.”

He stared into the distance, training his eyes on the rolling hills nestled against the horizon. It was either that or look at her, and he didn't think he could do that and still say what he had to say.

“You're a very good doctor,” he began, and the compliment was sincere. “If I hadn't realized that earlier, you proved it the day we found Richard Weston.”

“Thank you.”

“You'll be a valuable asset to your uncle's practice.”

“I'm not quite sure that's what…” She faltered, and he could see she was having a difficult time.

“Listen, Jane, I've been doing some thinking and I believe it'd be best if we suspended our lessons.”

His words were met with stunned silence. “You're serious, aren't you?”

“Very.”

“Just because I
might
be joining my uncle's medical practice? I haven't even made up my mind about that! I wish you'd hear me out first.”

“No.” This was important. “Because you belong in California.”

“Hogwash.”

“You might adapt to life here in Texas for a while, but it isn't going to last. The writing's on the wall.”

“And just when did you become a handwriting expert?”

“Last night.”

She snorted. “Oh, come on, Ca—”

Cal interrupted her. “I was wrong. You aren't Dr. Texas, you're Dr. Big City. Big plans. Big bucks, platinum charge cards, high-powered friends.”

Jane vaulted to her feet, spilling her coffee on the porch. “Don't give me that, Phillip Calvin Patterson.”

He was surprised she knew his full name, but this wasn't the time to ask how come she did.

“You know what the real problem is, don't you?” She dragged in a deep breath, pre paring to answer her own question. “You're a coward.”

“I'm not going to trade insults with you, if that's what you're looking for,” he said.

“I'm not stupid.”

“I didn't say you were.”

Hands on her hips, she threw her head back and glared at the sky. “You might as well have said it,” she returned, calmer now. “I love you and I'm fairly certain you feel the same way about me.”

“You're taking a lot for granted.”

“Perhaps, I am,” she agreed, “but if you're idiotic enough to send me away because you're afraid…”

His eyes flared at the word.

“Afraid,” she repeated, “then you're a fool, as well.”

“It might be best if you left,” he said. His head was be ginning to pound again. He wasn't up to dealing with a tirade.

“If that's what you want, I will. And I won't be back—”

“That's what I was hoping,” he said and hated himself for being so cruel.

“—unless you ask,” she finished as though he hadn't spoken.

With her head held high, she walked in the direction of her parked car, then stopped halfway across the yard. For a moment he figured she was planning to argue with him some more, but he was wrong. Instead, she turned toward the corral where Atta Girl stood, her sleek neck stretched over the top rail.