Heart of Texas Volume One (27 page)

Savannah edged closer to her husband. “Um, Grady, I don't think it's a good idea to wait until the last minute.”

“You don't?”

Both Savannah and Laredo shook their heads.

Grady rubbed the back of his neck. “The hell with it,” he muttered. “Nell didn't say anything about bringing a date. If Cal shows up you can bet he'll be without a woman. Nothing says I need one, either.”

Savannah resisted the urge to box his ears. “Do you intend to live the rest of your life alone, Grady?”

Her brother didn't answer her for a moment. “I don't know anymore. It just seems to be the way things are headed.” With that, he went back inside.

“I almost feel sorry for him,” Laredo said.

“It's his own fault,” Savannah didn't mean to sound unkind, but her brother was too stubborn for his own good. “If he'd open his eyes, he'd realize Caroline's perfect for him.”

“You can't push him into a relationship with your friend, love.”

Savannah realized that. “But…”

“It'll happen for Grady when the time is right.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“It did with us.”

Sighing, Savannah dropped her head against his shoulder once again. This was her favorite time of day, sitting in the moonlight with Laredo, feeling his love enclose her.

They kissed then, and the sweetness of it was enough to bring tears to Savannah's eyes. She savored the contentment of being in his arms, wishing everyone could experience this kind of love. Grady and the embittered Cal Patterson and Caroline and…

“Ellie Frasier needs someone, too,” she said wistfully.

“Are you the resident matchmaker now?” Laredo teased.

“Yes—even if it
is
self-appointed.” She nudged him with her elbow. “Now—a man for Ellie.”

“Not Richard.”

“Not Richard,” Savannah agreed. “Glen Patterson.”

Laredo laughed lightly. “You're way off base with that one, Savannah. I can't see it. They make much better friends than they ever would lovers.”

The evening was much too fine to argue. She didn't need Laredo to agree with her to know she was right.

N
ELL
B
ISHOP FLIPPED THE BRAID
off her shoulder and surveyed the yard. Everything was ready for Ruth's surprise party. The Moorhouse sisters, both retired schoolteachers, were keeping her mother-in-law occupied in town. Knowing Edwina and Lily, they'd take their assignment seriously. The last Nell heard, they'd planned a visit to the library, followed by a little birthday celebration at Dovie Boyd's antique shop. Dovie had recently added the Victorian Tea Room, and each afternoon at three, she served tea and scones. Sometimes she added cucumber sandwiches and a small glass—or two—of the Moorhouse sisters' special cordial, which she made from a recipe handed down by their maternal grandfather.

Nell gathered that the sandwiches tended to be dry but the cordial was well worth the price of admission. The Moorhouse sisters would bring her back at the start of the festivities. All three would probably be a little tipsy and in a fine party mood.

It was time the Bishop family did a bit of celebrating. Jake wouldn't have wanted them to spend the rest of their lives grieving. Things had been difficult for Nell since her husband's death, but with Ruth's help she'd managed to hold on to the ranch.

“Mom, where do you want me to put the potato chips?” Jeremy called from the back porch steps. Her eleven-year-old son stood with a huge bowl in his hands, awaiting her instructions.

“Set it on the first picnic table,” she answered, pointing at the line of five covered tables that stretched across the freshly groomed yard. She'd spent half the day spiffing up the flower beds and mowing the grass and the other half cooking. Fried chicken, her special recipe for chili, a smorgasbord of salads, plus a huge homemade birthday cake.

Jeremy carried the bowl to the table, then promptly helped himself to a handful. Nell bit her tongue to keep from admonishing him not to spoil his dinner. This was a celebration and she wasn't going to ruin it by scolding her children. Both Jeremy and nine-year-old Emma had been helpful and cooperative, as excited about the party as she was herself.

Jeremy's hand stopped midway to his mouth and he cast a guilty look at his mother.

“All I ask is that you save some for the guests.”

He nodded, smiling hugely. “We got plenty.”

How like Jake her son was. She couldn't look at him and not be reminded of the only man she'd ever loved. They'd grown up together, she and Jake, and Nell knew from the time she'd first started thinking about boys that one day she'd marry Jake Bishop. It had taken him several years to reach the same conclusion, but men were often slower when it came to figuring out these things.

Both Nell and Jake were tall and big-boned. Nell was nearly six feet by the time she stopped growing. She had the kind of looks that were usually described as handsome, not pretty. And certainly not cute. The only man she'd ever known who hadn't been intimidated by her size—or treated her like one of the boys—had been Jake, and that was because he was six feet four inches himself.

Jake had taught her the wonders of being feminine. They'd had almost ten years together, and she'd treasured every one of them. Some folks expected her to remarry, but she'd yet to meet the man who could match the husband she'd lost. Nell wasn't willing to accept second best, not after loving Jake.

For the first year after Jake's death in a tractor accident she'd felt cheated and angry. It had taken her another year to accept his death and to reshape her life now that her husband was gone. With his mother's love and support she'd been able to keep the ranch, raise her kids, plan for the future.

She was a good cook, an able manager, and thanks to Jake, knew a great deal about ranching. More than she'd ever wanted to learn, in fact. The time had come to put all that knowledge to good use.

The party was to serve a dual purpose. To celebrate Ruth's birthday of course. And also to announce that she was opening her doors and turning Twin Canyon into a dude ranch. By the end of next year she hoped to be giving a group of greenhorns a taste of the real Texas.

Her research had shown that the cowboy era was alive and well in the minds of adventurous Americans. The travel agents she'd spoken with had assured her they could fill the bunkhouse with tourists eager to spend their vacation dollars learning about life in the Old West.

And Nell was just the one to teach them. She'd feed them her chili, get them on the back of a horse and demonstrate how to herd a few head of cattle. Take them on a trail drive—like in the movie
City Slickers.
And after all that, she'd gladly accept their credit cards.

“Mom!” Emma called, her freckled face smeared with frosting from the birthday cake. “Should I put the candles in now?”

“Not yet.”

“Hey!” Jeremy hollered. “
I
was supposed to lick the beaters!” He grabbed a fresh supply of potato chips, apparently to compensate for the frosting he'd missed.

“Wash your face,” Nell instructed her daughter. “I need your help out here.”

“Yeah,” Jeremy said with an air of superiority. “Help Mom.”

“I am,” Emma insisted. “I tasted the frosting to make sure it was good.”

Despite herself, Nell laughed. “Come on, you two. The party's going to start soon and I want all the food on the tables, ready for the buffet.” She headed for the house to collect paper plates and napkins.

“Will Grandma be surprised?” Emma asked.

Nell knew how hard it had been for her daughter to keep the birthday party a secret. “Very,” she promised. “And Grandma's going to have a wonderful time. We all are.”

She was sure of it.

 

T
HE BIRTHDAY PARTY WAS ALREADY
in full swing when Ellie and Richard arrived. People clustered about the yard, talking in small groups. There was an air of joy and festivity that Ellie found infectious. Party sounds—laughter, animated conversation and music—were everywhere. Ellie began to hope she might actually enjoy herself the way she used to.

She glanced around and realized she was looking for Glen. Although she'd agreed to attend the party with Richard Weston, she wished now that she'd turned him down.

She hadn't seen Glen in three days. Not since he'd kissed her. Hadn't heard from him, either. While it wasn't unusual for them to go a week or longer without talking to each other, for some reason this three-day stretch felt more like three months.

She had no intention of mentioning the kiss, but that didn't mean she hadn't been thinking about it. As a matter of fact, she'd thought of little else, and she wondered if the incident weighed as heavily on Glen's mind as it did hers.

Probably not.

“I should have brought my guitar,” Richard said, pressing his hand against her back as he steered her into the yard.

Richard had a fairly good singing voice and he'd entertained a crowd at his welcome-home party a few months earlier. He seemed quite impressed with his musical talent—excessively so, in Ellie's opinion. Although his voice was pleasant, it would assure him a position in the church choir but nowhere else.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look this evening?” he asked.

“Twice,” she murmured. One thing about Richard, he was a charmer. His remarks were nice to hear, but she didn't take them seriously.

“I'm pleased to see you're keeping track of how often I say it,” he muttered with a tinge of sarcasm.

Ellie gave him a sharp look. She was well aware of the kind of man Richard Weston was. She'd seen him in action and had to admire his skill. He issued his compliments with just enough wonder in his voice to sound sincere. Some women might believe him, but she wouldn't allow herself to be deluded. She also suspected that Richard didn't like her perceptiveness.

Ellie was delighted to see that Nell had gotten the big turnout she'd wanted. No one ever came right out and said it, but the town was proud of Nell Bishop. They were attending this party as much for her as for Ruth. Folks wanted Nell to know they respected the way she'd managed to keep the ranch in operation. The way she'd stood against popular opinion and refused to sell. At the first sign of financial difficulty, a lot of well-meaning friends had suggested she get rid of the ranch. Ellie wasn't sure she would have advised otherwise, but Nell had insisted on keeping the small spread. It had been her husband's heritage; now it was her children's. More than that, Ellie realized, the ranch was part of Jake, and Nell had deeply loved her husband.

“Help yourself to a plate,” Richard urged as they neared the picnic tables. Ellie surveyed the wide assortment of hot dishes and salads. From the look of it, Nell had cooked everything herself.

A card table was stacked with brightly wrapped birthday presents, and Ellie added hers to the pile. Busy seeing to some other guests, Nell waved a hand in greeting and Ellie waved back. Ruth sat in the seat of honor, a rocking chair, with her friends circled around her. The older woman, who was normally quiet and reserved, appeared to relish being the center of attention. Jeremy and Emma raced about the yard with several other children in hot pursuit.

“You ready to eat?” Richard asked, sounding as if it'd been at least a year since he'd last sat down to a decent meal.

“Sure.” Ellie reached for a paper plate and suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, caught sight of Glen. She turned slightly and noticed that he sat under the shade of an oak tree chatting with Grady Weston. He seemed to see her at the same time, and their eyes locked and held for an embarrassingly long moment. Any other time she would've waved and gestured for him to save her a place. But not now. Instead, she pretended she hadn't seen him and proceeded down the buffet line.

Apparently Richard was aware of the moment and staked his claim by sliding his arm about her waist and nuzzling her neck. Ellie didn't dare look in Glen's direction for fear of what he'd think.

“Richard,” she murmured under her breath. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” he asked. “I can't help it if I find you irresistible.”

“Yeah, right.” What he found her, Ellie surmised, was a trophy. The victor's spoils, to wave beneath Glen's nose. Although close in age, Richard and Glen had never been friendly, and while they weren't openly hostile to each other, there was no love lost, either.

Ellie filled her plate and tried to ignore Richard as he added a spoonful of this and that, insisting she sample every dish. Considering all the attention he paid her, anyone might have assumed they were a longtime couple. All this solicitude embarrassed her.

“Would you kindly stop?” she said, and despite her displeasure she laughed at the woebegone look he wore.

“I can't help myself,” he said. “You're the most beautiful woman here.” Ellie just shook her head.

They found an empty space on the grass, shaded by the house. The scent of freshly mowed lawn and a row of blooming roses mingled with the sights and sounds of the party.

Far more aware of Glen than she wanted to be, Ellie talked nervously, telling Richard about her week. He didn't pay much attention until she mentioned the old family Bible she'd found among her father's things.

“How old did you say it was?”

“More than a hundred years,” Ellie answered. Although there were a number of dates entered in the Bible, she wasn't sure when it had first been purchased.

“Your ancestors were part of the original group that settled in Bitter End?”

“From what I understand they were.”

“Have you ever been there?” Richard surprised her by asking next.

The question was ridiculous. No one had, no one she knew, anyway. Bitter End was a mysterious almost mythical town people whispered about. Its location remained a secret, and despite her childhood curiosity, her father had told her very little. But as far as she could figure, there simply wasn't that much to tell. The town had been settled shortly after the Civil War and for unknown reasons was later abandoned. A scattering of the original settlers—Ellie's ancestors among them—then founded Promise.

Richard's eyes darted around as if to gauge whether anyone was listening in on their conversation. “I've been to Bitter End,” he whispered dramatically. “Not that long ago, either.”

“Get out of here!” It was all a joke and she wasn't going to fall for it. If she did, he'd laugh at her for believing him, and she didn't want to be the brunt of his teasing remarks.

His eyes narrowed and he bent toward her. “I'm serious, Ellie.”

If Bitter End was anywhere in the vicinity, people would be flocking to it—ghost towns were fascinating, this one particularly so because of the mystery surrounding the original settlers' departure.

“Have you noticed that people don't talk about it much?” he asked, lowering his voice again. He made it sound as though the residents of Promise had conspired to keep the town a secret—to which
he
held the key.

Ellie frowned, unwilling to play his nonsensical game.