Texas Heat (3 page)

“Top of the stairs, second door to the left,” Maggie said easily. “And if you see Cole up there, tell him it's time for him to come downstairs. Someone will see to bringing the rest of your things upstairs and parking the car down by the garages.”

Billie felt her breath explode in a loud sigh. She turned to look at her daughter.

Maggie flinched. “Mam, you didn't think I'd put you and Thad in your and Pap's old bedroom, did you?”

“I . . . I wasn't sure,” Billie answered hesitantly. It was exactly what she'd thought.

As though reading her mind, Maggie tilted her head and smiled shyly. “Friends, Mam?”

Billie wrapped her arms around her daughter. “Always and forever, darling.”

“We've had some rough times, and some things can never be fixed. Someday I want to sit down and talk. Maybe to apologize, maybe to try and explain . . .”

“It isn't necessary, Maggie. All I've ever wanted was for you to be happy. That's all any mother really wants for her children. Sometimes we make mistakes along the way, but if the intentions are good, somehow they right themselves in the end.”

Maggie's eyes were bright with unshed tears. “I'm being selfish; you've had a long trip and must want to freshen up, too. I'll be out on the patio. I hope that scamp Cole didn't run off on me. He says he doesn't like parties.”

Billie laughed. “I can remember a party or two that his mother managed to wriggle out of.”

Maggie grimaced after Billie left the room. Where the hell was Cole, anyway? She wanted to show him off, but she was still worried that he'd do something to embarrass her. Billie's reminder of how often she'd refused to attend family events was grim. She crossed her fingers. The boy would behave; she'd see to it. She decided the kitchen with its array of tempting food was the logical place to look for him.

“Martha, have you seen Cole?” she asked the buxom cook, who looked up from chopping vegetables.

“No, Mrs. Tanner, he hasn't been in here.”

“I thought he might be in here filching a Coke or something.”

It was on the tip of Martha's tongue to suggest that Cole might be found outside filching beer, but it wasn't her place.

“Well, if he comes in here, please tell him I want to see him.”

“I'll do that, Mrs. Tanner.”

A worm of apprehension crawled around in Maggie's innards. What was Cole up to? He knew how important this party was to her.

When Maggie finally found her son on the rear patio, she had to stifle a laugh. She had to admit he looked a bit ridiculous in his Western outfit. The jeans Cole had purchased were too crisp, too new, and the bright plaid shirt, which should have had a pointed spread-wing collar, instead had a typical Ivy League button-down over the black string tie. “Cole, your grandmother and Thad are here. They went upstairs to freshen up. I'd like it if you came into the living room to welcome them.”

Cole looked up from his magazine and stared for a moment at his mother. “Righty-o, Mam,” he drawled.

“And don't be a wise-ass. I know you can behave like a gentleman. I pay that school enough to teach you manners, so practice them.”

“It's a bit hard to act a gentleman in this getup,” Cole retorted. “You think I'll fit in with all the other cowpokes?”

“Stop it, Cole. Get into the house; Mam'll be down in a minute. Don't screw up. I mean it.”

Cole threw down his magazine, obeying his mother. He liked it when she used slang to get her point across. That meant he was getting to her.

Billie felt a sense of exhilaration as she linked her arm in Thad's to walk down the long, winding staircase. This was someone else's house now; she and Thad were visitors. They could leave anytime they wanted.

“You aren't sweating this at all, are you?” Thad grinned.

“Not in the least. I'm looking forward to seeing my children. I was just thinking that Sunbridge has no hold over us anymore. I'm all right, really.”

“I can see that. I hope you're looking forward to our trip when this visit ends.”

Billie's eyes brimmed and Thad was immediately sorry he'd brought up the subject of Japan. “I am looking forward to seeing the Hasegawas again. Otami is with Riley now, and that's all she ever wanted. As for young Riley coming here to Sunbridge, the Hasegawas' unselfishness amazes me.”

“It didn't surprise me. Shadaharu was wise to give Riley the choice.”

“Feel better?” Maggie called from the bottom of the stairs.

“Much better.” Cole was standing beside Maggie, and Billie swallowed a giggle at the vision her grandson presented. A cartoon cowboy all decked out for a Saturday night. She knew Thad was reacting the same way—she could feel the tremble of laughter in his arm.

“You've grown, Cole, and you're so handsome! But then, I suppose all grandparents say things like that.” Billie wrapped the boy in her embrace. She kissed him and leaned back, her hands on his shoulders. “Yes, very handsome.” She beamed. “So much like your father.”

Cole laughed, but the humor never reached his eyes. “What you're saying, Grand, is you have to look to find the Coleman in me.”

“There's better than Colemans in this world, dear. But you do have your grandfather's smile and jaw.”

“The world isn't big on jaws. It's the rest that counts,” the boy joked.

“You're home, and that's what matters,” Thad interjected. “Besides, a fella can get a bit overwhelmed by all these Colemans. At least you can keep your grandmother and me company. You know our veins don't pump Coleman oil. It takes good old Yankee blood to crank our machinery.”

“Home to Sunbridge,” said Maggie. “This is the first time Cole has been here for more than a long weekend. Remember, Mam, how hard you said it was when you first came here?”

“I certainly do. Your mother's right, Cole. It's overpowering at first, but you won't let it get the better of you.”

“I'm sure you're right, Grand.”

“Say, why don't you and I go find something cool to drink?” Thad said to Cole. “Perhaps your mother and Grand would like to talk before the others arrive.”

“I'm with you.” Cole clumped out behind Thad, his stiff new Western boots creaking.

Billie couldn't help herself and began to giggle. Maggie frowned and then laughed, too. “Mam, he hates dressing like that, and he just doesn't know how to put it all together. I'm the first to admit he makes himself look ridiculous.”

“Then why?”

“When in Rome, right?”

“But the boy looks so unhappy.”

“For a few hours it won't hurt him. If he'd let me help him select his clothes and had taken the time to break in his boots, he wouldn't look like a sore thumb.”

“Poor Coleman.” Billie sighed. “Perhaps when Riley gets here, they can commiserate with each other. Being half-Japanese in Texas is being another sore thumb.”

“Don't worry about him, Mam,” Maggie said. “I'll be backing that kid up all the way. And don't underestimate the people here in Texas. Attitudes have come a long way in the forty years since you first arrived. Besides, Riley's last name is Coleman. If that doesn't turn the trick, nothing will.”

“I'm sure you're right, Maggie. But I can't help worrying about the boy. He's leaving everything he knows.” Her hazel eyes were touched with grief. “When a boy is sixteen years old, he should know where he belongs.”

“He will,” said Maggie. “He'll know he belongs here in his father's house. I've had Riley's old room made up. I even went up to the attic and got down all of his stuff—you know, his camera and books and all those little treasures from when we were kids. They belong to Riley's son, don't they, Mam?”

“Maggie, it's wonderful of you to do that for your nephew.”

Maggie flushed. “Can you believe I found those old Flash Gordon sheets and the Lone Ranger blankets? I made up the bed myself.”

“I think of our Riley almost every day,” Billie said quietly.

“So do I. Especially since I'm back here at Sunbridge. Mam, why wasn't a grave marker put up on the knoll for Riley? I know his body was never recovered from the plane crash, but why not a memorial stone?”

“That was your father's doing. He couldn't bear it.”

“When the time is right, I'm going to talk to young Riley about it. Something should be done, don't you think?”

“I think that when the time's right, you'll know what to do. Whatever you decide, you can count on me.”

“Otami, too? A memorial stone, I mean.”

Billie's brows shot upward. This certainly was a new Maggie, with this sense of family. “Perhaps. But Riley might not want to stay at Sunbridge. You must prepare yourself for that, Maggie.”

“As sure as I'm standing here, the boy will stay. I feel it in my bones.”

“Perhaps. Come along, dear. Let's go find Cole and Thad. I could use something cool to drink myself. What time do you expect the others?”

“Within the hour. Isn't it wonderful? All of us under the same roof; all of us back at Sunbridge after so long.”

The sound of a car pulling up the drive and a blaring horn saved Billie from further reply. Who else could it be but Amelia, returning to Sunbridge with fanfare. Billie stood back as Maggie raced for the door and out to the portico.

“Auntie Amelia! And this must be Cary! Welcome, welcome to Sunbridge.”

Billie, standing in the shadow of the doorway, registered shock that she immediately concealed. Cary Assante, Amelia's new husband, was young, quite young in fact— at least twenty years younger than Amelia. . . . Billie disliked what she was thinking and stepped out the door, her arms open.

“Billie! How wonderful to see you again. I really snagged a winner, didn't I? Admit it!” Amelia whispered in Billie's ear as the women embraced.

“He has my vote.” Billie laughed to see her sister-in-law and best friend so animated with happiness. When Amelia had become widowed during the Second World War, she'd only been a few years older than Billie. Amelia had spent a good portion of her life alone, but now she had Cary. “I'm happy for you, Amelia,” Billie murmured sincerely. “And you look wonderful!”

“I should!” Amelia said with her usual candor. “I've had everything lifted that could be lifted. I've more tucks than the good friar himself!”

Billie thought of her own wrinkles. The laugh lines around her eyes, the tiny brackets at the sides of her mouth, the deeper grooves in her forehead. For a time she'd toyed with the idea of a nip and a tuck herself, but as long as Thad loved her the way she was and pink light bulbs in the bedroom could work their magic, all was right with the world.

Amelia squared her shoulders imperceptibly, something she found herself doing whenever a younger woman was in Cary's presence. Maggie looked gorgeous, alive and vital. Just like Cary.

Cary Assante was movie star material. Slightly taller than medium height, lean and chiseled; something animal and hungry in those sparkling dark eyes. He was magnetic, handsome in a rough, virile way. His shoulders broad, like those of a boxer, back straight, light gray trousers hugging muscular thighs. His Italian heritage was visible in his sable-black hair and in his skin, which accepted a healthy tan. He had the look of a hawk, hungry and alert, but when he smiled, his expression was genuine and friendly, and it was obvious that he was quite comfortable with his good looks.

When they all moved to the shady back patio, Billie found herself observing Cary while introductions were being made to Thad and Cole. He was carefully put together, she decided. His thick dark hair was meticulously barbered and windblown to exactly the right degree. His tan—earned no doubt, on the tennis courts beneath the California sun—was also exactly right, neither too leathery nor too blushingly pink. Everything about him seemed carefully designed for natural elegance—his Lauren shirt, Cerruti jacket, Italian shoes, and the solid gold Rolex winking on his furred arm from beneath his sleeve. Everything he wore had obviously been selected for him by Amelia; at least it was obvious to Billie, who was so familiar with Amelia's tastes.

The introductions completed, Cary approached Billie. His voice was a light baritone with shades of a New York accent, easy to listen to. He smelled awfully good, too. “I've been eager to meet you and your family. Amelia speaks of you all so often, especially you, Billie. I have to admit, I'm jealous, since I've no family of my own.”

“None at all?”

“Not that I know of. I was raised on the charity of New York City in a Catholic orphanage. But,” he added lightly, holding up a finger, “don't feel sorry for me. I survived, and some of my friends from those days did, too. In fact, they're still with me in business.”

“What do you think of Texas? Have you ever been here before?” Billie asked. She really had to buy some of his cologne for Thad.

“I like it. And no, I've never been before, except for a week or so a few months back. I've been considering a parcel of land this side of Austin for a housing development. No, actually, it's much more than that. It's kind of an inner city outside the city.” He laughed. “Townhouses, condominiums, and single-family homes, complete with shopping center and some light industry.”

“Here in Texas?” asked Maggie, who had overheard.

“Yes, outside of Austin,” Cary repeated. Maggie relaxed instantly: no city lights would be seen from Sunbridge. “Amelia agrees it could be a good idea. I'm going to look into it. This party will give me an opportunity to talk to some of the locals and see what they think of the idea.”