Texas Born (29 page)

As he watched her being swallowed up by the
swinging doors at the back of the café, Zaccheus couldn't help
thinking that Miss Clowney was blessed with two of the most
attractive nieces a woman could ever hope to have.

A peculiar kind of longing started up within
him. What a strange placed Quebeck, Texas, was turning out to be!
The two young nieces . . . each attractive in a different sort of
way, as unalike as night and day, each as unique as the hard,
glittering coldness of a diamond and the shimmering red warmth of a
ruby. The pink house . . . a fairy-tale dream come true, which had
curdled into the symbol of a nightmare for some long-dead man named
Neeland McMean. The turret room he was renting for the night . . .
a charming, comfortable, cozy little room which he wished he could
call his own forever. Miss Clowney . . . efficient, yet strangely
and elegantly attractive, a friendly woman whose brisk,
businesslike veneer could not quite mask the warmth of her heart.
And, finally, there was Quebeck itself . . . this improbable,
quiet, slumbering little town far off the beaten track, a town
which was in the United States only by virtue of the side of the
nearby wide riverbank on which it had been built, a town where
there was no danger of anyone ever discovering the truth about his
sordid past. Combined, all these characteristics suddenly made
Quebeck extraordinarily attractive. It was the kind of place where,
for the first time in years, Zaccheus felt certain he would be
content to settle down and grow roots, a place where he believed he
wouldn't mind forging a new life for himself.

In the stifling hot kitchen of the Good Eats
Café, Elizabeth-Anne hummed softly to herself as she watched Rosa,
the Mexican cook, dunk a ladle into a pot of rice. The porcelain
chimed clearly as the big brown-skinned woman with her flat face
flipped the ladle expertly upside-down in the exact center of the
plate so that the rice came out as if from a mold, in a perfect
steaming ball. Nodding to herself, Rosa then deftly ladled a
generous portion of the chunky rich beef stew around the orb of
rice, careful not to drip any on the pristine whiteness of the rice
itself.

Rosa held the plate out to Elizabeth-Anne and
grunted.

Elizabeth-Anne took it and looked down at it.
For a moment her face broke into an uncharacteristic scowl. There
was no doubt in her mind but that the dish both looked and smelled
delicious, but she felt the sudden urge to make it even more
special . . . to add that extra artistic woman's touch which it
lacked. She had a sudden inspiration. Quickly she set the plate
down on the table and hurriedly chose a perfect ripe beefsteak
tomato out of the basket on the floor. She washed it and sliced it
in half in a zigzag pattern, and placed one of the halves on a
corner of the plate. She then sprinkled the tomato with parsley
leaves, cracked a hard-boiled egg, and sliced it perfectly. She
laid the center portions with their rich yellow circles of yolk
around the orb of rice, so that they overlapped slightly.

Rosa watched her from a distance with hooded
wise brown eyes, but her flat face was devoid of expression. When
Elizabeth-Anne pushed her way back out through the swinging doors,
the Mexican woman quietly padded over to the doors, pushed one of
the flaps open a crack, and looked out at the handsome stranger.
She nodded knowingly to herself. Only this morning Elizabeth-Anne
had been a child. But this afternoon . . .ah, this afternoon she
had become a woman.

When morning came, Rosa was not at all
surprised to learn that the handsome stranger had decided to stay
on awhile longer.

The arrival of Zaccheus was a time point for
both Jenny and Elizabeth-Anne.

It was like a fight to the death. Abruptly
the rivalry which had always existed between the two of them
deepened. They had both fallen head-over-heels for the stranger who
called himself Zaccheus Hale, and for once Elizabeth-Anne was not
content to simply withdraw and let Jenny walk all over her. For
years they had both lived under the same roof, two sticks of
dynamite lacking only the fuse.

And now the fuse was not only in place; it
had been lit.

Suddenly the girls fought to outdo each
other. In the past they had taken turns serving lunches and suppers
at the Good Eats Café, Elizabeth-Anne liking her job and taking it
seriously, while Jenny, who obviously hated it, counted the hours
and minutes until her shift was over. Now, overnight, they were in
the café at the same time, working the lunch and supper shifts,
each in her own way vying for the opportunity to serve Zaccheus in
order to get his full attention. Jenny was more blatantly forward,
relying on her pert prettiness and feminine wiles, while
Elizabeth-Anne was subdued and quietly efficient, counting on her
shy charm and all the little ways she could think of to make
everyday things more special for him. But there was one thing both
girls had in common. Each seemed suddenly more vibrantly alive,
eyes more intense, skin more radiant and glowing. One smile from
Zaccheus and they melted, their legs weak and trembling.

Elender could not help but become aware of
this sudden new tension. Yet some feminine intuition told her to
stand back and let matters take their natural course. She realized
that this was one time when meddling would only make things worse
and stretch everything more out of proportion.

Nor was Zaccheus unaware of the girls'
attention. He would have had to be blind and unfeeling to miss it.
But much as their flurry of activity pleased him, it unsettled him
in equal measure. The last woman he had been attracted to was
Phoebe Flatts—and only too late had he realized that Phoebe had
wanted him only to suit her own purposes. Now, like lightning bolts
out of the clear blue, here were
two
attractive young ladies
vying for his undivided attention. He hardly knew what to make of
them, and for the first time since Phoebe's cruelty, he found
himself flattered and . . .
yes
, actually wanting and
needing
feminine company.

Jenny aroused in him a kind of strutting,
bantam pride. Most men would think her the more physically
attractive of the two, the one who seemed so sure of herself; her
facial expressions and her physical grace seemed to whisper
unspoken promises.

Elizabeth-Anne, on the other hand, touched a
sensitive nerve in his heart. Here, he knew, was someone who had
been beaten down, who had suffered; yet despite her shyness, she
held herself with a kind of fierce, aloof dignity—there was a
strength coursing through her which was so well hidden that hardly
anyone even knew it was there. But he did. Something told him that
she was special. She needed, he felt, only to be given a dose of
kindness in order to have her dormant confidence restored.

When he sat down to supper the next night,
Elizabeth-Anne and Jenny collided as they hurried to his table.
Jenny turned her back to him so that he would not see her bared
teeth as she hissed 'Scram!' to Elizabeth-Anne. Then she turned
around, a sweet smile on her lips as she approached his table. 'We
have a Texas-style chili,' she said in a throaty voice, adding
quickly in a whisper, 'and anything else you might want.'

He glanced up at her, his eyes unfocused as
he gazed past her across the dining room. He could see
Elizabeth-Anne gnawing on a clenched knuckle; then, when she became
aware of his gaze, she swiftly whirled around and scurried into the
kitchen.

Zaccheus withdrew his gaze, and his bright
blue eyes looked up at Jenny. 'What I want is to find out where I
can hire a car.'

'Oh.' Jenny's face fell for an instant.
'There aren't any. But you could hire a horse and buggy at the
livery stable. It's two blocks down Main Street. Next to Pitcock's
Hardware Store.'

'Do you happen to know what time they open in
the morning?'

'Six, I think.' Jenny hesitated. 'Will there
be anything else?'

'The chili, please.'

She pursed her lips and hurried to fetch
it.

The next morning Zaccheus hired a horse and
buggy and started on his Bible-selling rounds.

It was late Sunday morning, five days later,
when the church service finished and the congregation came spilling
from inside the blistered wood building. The white-hot sun was
baking the rutted dust of Main Street with a furnacelike heat.

Jenny blinked in the sudden light, shielded
her eyes with a cupped hand, and glanced around. Everyone was
milling about as usual, catching up on the latest gossip. Beside
her were Elender, who wore a severe long black dress with a
matching bonnet, only a touch of lace at her throat softening the
funereal look, and Elizabeth-Anne in the hand-me-down flowered
dress which had been Jenny's favorite until she'd outgrown it.
While Elender and Elizabeth-Anne stopped to talk to the Byrd
sisters, Jenny murmured her excuses and withdrew to the sagging
white picket fence that surrounded the little church. She leaned
against it, watching Zaccheus intently. He was standing on the top
step of the church, conversing with Reverend Drummond.

'Jenny!' a voice hissed from the side of the
building.

Jenny turned her head slowly as Laurenda
Pitcock hurried over to her. Laurenda had grown up to be big-boned,
with a heavy reddish face, the hint of a mustache, and tiny, thin
lips. Her hips were large and her bosom full and ripe.

'What do you say we pack a picnic lunch this
afternoon?' Laurenda suggested hopefully. 'You, me, and Red
Brearer, we could all ride out to the bluff together.'

'Oh, I don't know,' Jenny said lazily, her
eyes once again resting on Zaccheus.

Laurenda looked disappointed. 'We haven't
seen you for nearly a week now,' she whined reproachfully. 'You're
no fun anymore.'

'Things will liven up, Laurenda.'

Laurenda grunted. 'What have you been doing
with yourself?'

'Working,' Jenny said truthfully.

Laurenda laughed. 'I thought you hated
work.'

'I do,' Jenny said slowly, 'but sometimes
there are benefits.'

'Like the new roomer?' Laurenda said in a sly
voice.

Jenny glared at her. 'How would you
know?'

Laurenda shrugged. 'Word gets around is
all.'

Jenny's voice was bitter. 'It better get no
further than you. You open your big mouth, Laurenda Pitcock, and
I'll open mine.'

'What about?'

Jenny smiled crookedly.

Laurenda tossed her head virtuously. 'Nobody
will believe it.'

'Red likes to brag.'

'So? Everybody knows he's always lying.'

'So they do. But everybody will believe
me.'

'All right, all right,' Laurenda conceded
gruffly.

Jenny smiled at her. 'Get lost, Laurenda. I'm
busy.'

'I didn't mean-'

'I'm busy, Laurenda.' Jenny's voice softened.
'I'll see you tomorrow. I promise.'

'Yeah. Sure.' Laurenda backed off, glumly
studying the ground.

Jenny pursed her lips thoughtfully as her
best friend wandered off. Suddenly she pushed herself away from the
fence, left the churchyard, and hurried back to the Good Eats Café.
She took the stairs two at a time up to the second-floor apartment
she, Elender, and Elizabeth-Anne had shared ever since Elender had
bought the building. Quickly she changed out of her Sunday outfit
to a cooler, less formal, and more flattering dress. It was printed
with a tiny pattern of bluebells and suited her well. She studied
her reflection closely in the mirror, then pushed her fingers
through her hair, contemplating a new hairdo. Frowning, she let it
fall back in place.

She smiled slowly. Today she wasn't going to
serve lunch or supper at the café. She would let Elizabeth-Anne do
that. Laurenda had unwittingly given her a marvelous idea. Although
he didn't know it yet, today she was going on a picnic—with
Zaccheus Hale.

Zaccheus heard the tentative knock on the
door. He crossed the little turret room in four strides and opened
it. His face registered surprise. Jenny was standing there, both
hands gripping a large cloth-covered wicker basket she held in
front of her.

'Hello,' he said.

Jenny smiled flirtatiously up at him.
'Auntie's letting me borrow the horse and buggy, and I have a
picnic lunch all packed. You see, my friend Laurenda Pitcock was
supposed to come with me, but she's taken ill, and everything's
already prepared and . . . would you . . . ? I mean . . .' She
tilted her head and lowered her eyes demurely. 'It's so quiet here,
and I hate to have to picnic alone.'

'Well . . .' Zaccheus compressed his lips and
glanced behind him. 'Actually, I was just—'

'It would mean so much to me,' Jenny said
quickly, her eyes searching his face. 'Please? Just this once?
Auntie said it was all right with her, if it was with you.'

He smiled. 'All right. Wait for me
downstairs. I'll be right down.'

They drove out through Geron's Fields and
headed north along the enormous meandering riverbed, passing newly
planted citrus groves and endless expanses of cotton fields. Jenny
did the driving and didn't stop the buggy until they came to a
small bluff. Far out, they could see the mirrorlike shine of pools
of water. The water did not seem to be moving.

'Let's picnic here,' Jenny said softly. 'This
is one of my favorite spots. See?' She pointed. 'You can see way
into Mexico from here.'

'I'd always expected more from the Rio
Grande,' he said slowly. 'I always thought it was a real
river.'

'Like the Mississippi?'

'Something like that.'

Jenny nodded. 'I know. But it does get a lot
bigger. Especially in spring, when the snows melt up north. A few
years ago it flooded and washed away half of Mexican Town.'