Texas Heat (10 page)

Sawyer turned, but didn't break her rhythm. “Was what you said true?”

“Yeah.”

“Then there's no reason to be sorry. I'll handle it.”

She would, too, Cole thought. He was sorry now that he'd missed getting to know her all these years. He sensed that she would work double time at being his sister. But he also knew she would make him meet her halfway. And she would be a friend, too. The thought pleased him.

“So tell me, what do you think of Riley?”

Cole shrugged noncommittally.

Sawyer paused in her work. “He's a nice kid, Cole. You could make all the difference to him on his visit here.”

Cole shrugged again.

Cary was glad of Amelia's company. He enjoyed doing
things with his wife. She made everything sound interesting and somehow or other managed to find a challenge in whatever she did. Right now, she was better than any tour guide, pointing out landmarks and property lines, quoting the cost of fencing, and estimating the manpower hours needed to run a ranch, even a small one.

The fields were rolling pastureland. It was a beautiful Texas day, clear skies with only a cottonball or two dotting the porcelain blue that matched Amelia's dress. “Have you ever seen clearer skies or breathed cleaner air?” Amelia asked, drawing deeply into her lungs.

“I can't say that I have. This is country. I expected to see more houses. How big would you say this . . . spread is?”

“This is Santo land on the right. Mr. Santo is a Tex-Mex who started out when Pap did. I'd say he's got around seventy thousand acres. One of his sons has a house back in there. You just can't see it from the road.”

“The main house looks big,” Cary said, craning his neck.

“Oh, it is. It's a Mexican villa type. All one floor. It's gorgeous.”

“As beautiful as Sunbridge?”

“In its own way, yes. The Santos are nice people. I think you'll find most Texans are nice. Shrewd businessmen, though.”

“There you go, reading my mind again.”

Amelia shrugged. It was true. She always seemed to be able to anticipate his next question, especially if she was really paying attention and it was a one-on-one conversation. She squirmed around in her seat so she could study Cary's profile. Strong, chiseled. Firm. She liked that. She sighed deeply, and Cary glanced at her.

“What's on for this evening, or are we just staying home with the family?” he asked.

“What do you say to a night in Crystal City? A little wining, a little dining—we have to watch our waistlines—a little dancing, and then a great deal of lovemaking later on.”

“I'd be a fool to turn down an offer like that. Crystal City it is. Would you like to invite the others, or is this strictly a twosome?”

There it was. Amelia knew Cary was just being generous; he was like that. But she only wanted to be with him. She certainly didn't want to share him with her family. “If you think I'll bore you for a long evening, then we can invite the entire household,” she said lightly.

Cary cursed inwardly. He'd screwed up again. Now she was going to sulk all night unless he could cajole her out of it. It occurred to him suddenly that he had been doing a lot of that lately.

“Well, here we are. This is the tract I was telling you about.”

Looking at it, Amelia estimated the parcel to be just under two square miles. Out here, with Austin's skyline visible in the distance, the land was flat and uninterrupted.

“You see,” Cary was saying, “the highway leads right into the city, so there'll be no difficulty with access. Of course, we're hoping that the offices and light industry space, as well as the shopping mall, will take care of jobs for those living right here.”

Amelia raised her eyebrows. “You'll need more than a few square miles for that.”

“That's what's so beautiful about the plan. We begin construction at the heart of the project and spread outward. There are fifteen available square miles here, on both sides of the highway and out there”—he pointed—“beyond that slight ridge. We'll be buying out several homeowners. Many of them, in fact. But then we're also thinking of incorporating the existing homes and small ranches into the project. That'll give us an even wider scope in the future.”

“Then it's decided you're going to throw in with the developers?”

“I'd like to. Of course, I wouldn't decide anything without you. We'd have to live here, at least until things got under way. That's a decision for the two of us to make.”

“You know, I believe some of this land belongs to Jake Baker. It hasn't seen a plow or a steer in a good number of years. Good drainage, though. Pap always said look at the ditch first.” She laughed. “Jake's an old horse trader. His land won't come cheap.”

“Let's take a walk over to the ridge. We can get a better perspective from there.”

She looked down at her four-hundred-dollar Ralph Lauren crocodile shoes and winced as he took her arm and led her into the field. The thorny bush and dried grasses snagged her nylons and she kept a wary eye out for snakes and prairie dog holes. Being from the city, Cary assumed that empty land was just that—devoid of life. He never considered the insect and other life that dwelt on any open stretch of country land.

“You realize I don't know a hell of a lot about building and architecture. In fact, it's safe to say I know nothing. I can learn, though,” he said positively. “Sewers, electricity, building permits, union workers, the whole bag. But I have a feeling about this, Amelia. The minute Johnston and Alphin brought me out here, I knew this dream could become a reality. I knew I wanted to be a part of it, more than an investor. And long after I'm gone, it'll still be here, some part of me.”

“Can you afford it?”

“If I can't, there's always the bank. I think I could swing it; I know how to deal.”

“Cary, I can always throw in with you.”

“No, you can't. This is our project, but my money. We've gone all through this, babe. All I want is for you to point me in the right direction. Alphin says a deal like this has to be finessed, and it doesn't hurt having a wife who comes from around these parts. He knows what he's talking about, honey. He's a good ol' boy from North Carolina and he understands people. He says this is too near the heart of the farmland; ranchers might think they're being crowded. No one likes change, not when it affects them personally.”

“Your man seems to know how people think, all right. Even though most of our neighbors are well-to-do and like to think of themselves as progressive, they have roots planted in this country. You just might meet up with some opposition. What about Johnston? What does he say?”

Cary grinned. “He takes Alphin's word to heart, just like I do. But if there's one thing Johnston knows about, it's building. He's creative, knows the best materials, the top-of-the-grade contractors. He was the one who came up with the idea of this ‘inner city outside the city' idea. He nixed the idea for tract houses, saying that a certain amount of exclusiveness would be more acceptable to the local powers.”

“He's right, you know. But first you have to get the land, and that's going to be tricky. Texans don't part with land if they can help it; they might lease it, but they won't sell.”

“Hell, Amelia, that isn't going to do me any good.”

“You'd quibble over a ninety-nine-year lease with an option to buy?”

A slow smile lifted the corners of his mouth. To Amelia he looked just like a cat who'd swallowed a canary—she could almost imagine him smacking his lips. “Of course, things could get a little sticky, me being an outsider, I mean.”

“And that's where I can do you the most good. Amelia Coleman Assante, returned to the heartland!” she said. “We'll entertain, join clubs, become a part of the local politics. And you can do it, darling. You love a challenge. You'll have them eating out of your hand.”

Cary was becoming more excited about the project; his dark eyes shone with the thrill of the challenge. “Johnston says customization is the key. Everything tailored and first-quality. He says there's money out here and Alphin agrees. ‘Don't judge a man by the age of his truck or the green of his grass,'” Cary drawled, doing his impersonation of Alphin's soft Carolinian accent. “‘That ol' boy'll be sittin' on more than he wants you or Uncle Sam to know about.'”

Amelia laughed. “Stick with them, darling, and you won't go wrong.”

“And you're right about joining clubs and making friends. I know what it means to be an outsider. I know all about closed shops and being the only dago in a school full of Irish. You have to earn the right to belong. And by God, Amelia, I want to belong to this place.”

“Okay, then let's go talk to Jake Baker and see what he says. Let's see if he remembers Seth Coleman's little black-haired girl and the fact that Pap bought my first pony from him.”

“Sounds good.” He was already leading her back to the car.

“Customized, eh?” Amelia mused. “Ask me what I'd want in a house, Cary. I've got hundreds of ideas.”

“Okay, I'm asking.”

“A gorgeous kitchen. Out-of-this-world bathrooms. I'm big on bathrooms. Room-size dressing rooms. Hot tub, Jacuzzi. Fireplaces. Solid oak floors. Curving stairways. One in the front of the house and one off the kitchen. Adequate servants' quarters. Swimming pool built like a grotto. Designer landscaping so the house looks as if it's been there for years. Ironwork, grills, that sort of thing; decorative, of course. But Cary, I have to admit it's such a colossal undertaking that it frightens me. Building houses is one thing, but planning a city and all the things you were talking about last night makes me nervous. It's going to take millions!”

“Amelia, look at me. Do you believe I can do it?”

“Of course I do. But remember, though I might come from money, I wasn't one of the ones who did the making. I think it's natural for me to be a little nervous.”

Cary sighed. He wanted Amelia to have faith in him. He'd been doing a little worrying last night himself. The contacts he'd made at Maggie's barbecue would come in handy later, but it was going to take more than just contacts, and he knew it. “Financing, I think, isn't going to be too much of a problem. Banks love the building industry.”

“What you're saying is every man has a selling price.”

“That's right. With some men it's harder to find than with others. Everyone has a price.”

Without stopping to think, she said, “My father and brother didn't have a price.”

“Yes they did. You just don't know what it was. Or if you do know, you don't want to think about it.”

Amelia didn't like the conversation and was sorry she'd blurted out her opinion. She'd never really argued with Cary before. Hesitantly, she asked, “And what's your price?”

“It's there. It never pays to let a woman know all a man's secrets.”

“That's my line—or I should say that's a woman's line. Women are supposed to be mysterious, never letting their lover know everything.”

“What don't I know about you, Amelia?” Cary asked, his voice serious.

“Not a damn thing. I've been an open book with you. Unfortunately or fortunately, as the case may be, I am neither mysterious nor secretive. What you see is what you got. Now you're going to get me in a snit until I figure out what your price is.”

“I wouldn't lose any sleep over it, darling. It may never show up till I'm eighty years old.”

God! If he were eighty, she'd be... “My shoes are getting ruined, Cary. I can wait in the car if you want to explore a little more.”

“I think I've seen enough. I know what I want, and the next thing to do is see about getting it. After we see Jake Baker, we'll go back to Sunbridge and I'll start setting up my appointments.”

“I could do that for you,” Amelia said. If he was going to spend hours on the phone, what was she going to do?

“This is man's work, baby. You did your share at the party when you paved the way for me. I can handle it from here.”

“Don't need me anymore, eh?”

Cary turned the key in the ignition. “I'll always need you, Amelia. I can't imagine what my life would be without you. I was serious when I said until death do us part. Don't you know how much meaning you give to my life? Hell, I was only a rich drifter when we met. A hustler. You turned me around. I'll never forget that. We're a team, we belong together, and don't you ever forget it.”

Amelia beamed. She forgot about the mud caked on her shoes. She forgot about the phone calls that would take Cary away from her for a little while.

 

After working in the stables cleaning stalls, Sawyer and Cole rewarded their efforts by taking a long ride through the back hills. They purloined a picnic lunch from a kitchen in amazingly good order, considering the amount of activity that had taken place there the night before.

Sawyer led Cole along her favorite riding paths, skirting the scrupulously fed and watered lawn, taking him into the low-rising hills far out of sight of the house and sound of occasional trucks on the highway. Off in the distance, they'd seen Rand and Riley returning from their morning's ride, and Sawyer watched them until they were out of sight. She felt the distance between Rand and herself was much greater than the mile or more of Sunbridge acreage that separated them now. She flushed when she remembered how she'd tried to seduce him earlier that morning. Why wouldn't he talk to her, tell her what was wrong?

When Sawyer and Cole returned to the house, they turned their mounts over to a groom. “I'm for a shower,” she said, “and you don't smell so hot yourself. C'mon, I'll race you!”

Cole ran close on her heels. He had the slim, loosely jointed body of a natural athlete, and he moved with grace.

“Nice going!” she called over her shoulder. “C'mon, don't stop now!”

Rand, sitting on the back patio, heard Sawyer's familiar laugh, and when he turned, he saw her running ahead of Cole toward the house. The sun shot her hair full of golden lights, and her long, slim legs ate up the distance. He'd never thought there was much resemblance between Sawyer and her half brother, but now he noticed the same agility, the same loose stride, slim hips, and coltish legs. He found himself smiling.