Читать книгу Back to Texas - Amanda Renee - Страница 11

Chapter Two

“I can’t remember when I last saw a smile on your face.” After her shift at the luncheonette, Bridgett had beelined for the inn. Mazie stopped chopping onions long enough to contemplate the favor being asked of her. “If Adam is responsible for it, I guess there’s no harm in him staying here.”

Bridgett flattened her lips, sucking them inward to hide the goofy smile threatening to expose her excitement. “Thank you, Mazie.”

She fought the urge to hug her friend. Heck, she barely believed she’d had the grit to ask that Mazie rent Adam the room reserved for out-of-town family. She still hadn’t figured out what had prompted her to be so brazen, especially since the room was just down the hall from hers. That thought alone caused her stomach to do a few somersaults.

Although the town of Katy was three hours away, it was still close enough for them to see each other again after the Harvest Festival. If he wanted to. Why it even mattered baffled her. She hadn’t planned to stick around town much longer herself. Then again, maybe she’d add Katy to her job-search locations.

Mazie’s smile tightened before she returned her attention to the chopping board. “Please be careful. You’ve been through quite a bit and I don’t want to see you jump at the first guy you meet as a way to forget what’s happened. Whether this man’s here or not, you still need to deal with your family.”

“My eyes are wide open.” Bridgett grabbed a fallen dish towel from the floor and tossed it onto the counter. “He needs a room for the weekend and I’ve no intention of running away with him. Although, who’d blame me for wanting to ditch this town.”

Mazie stilled her knife, looking at Bridgett. “You and I have watched out for each other since the day we first met in pre-school. I wouldn’t be much of a friend if I didn’t say your interest in this man worries me. There are plenty of hotels with vacancies outside of Ramblewood.”

“Please don’t feel obligated.” Bridgett poked her head out of the kitchen wanting to ensure Adam hadn’t wandered in and overheard their conversation. “If you’re uncomfortable with him staying here, I understand.”

Mazie added the onions to a large, blue-and-white speckled enameled pan. “We’re having roasted ratatouille and goat-cheese-stuffed crepes tonight. I’ll set an extra place at the table for Adam.”

Bridgett couldn’t help grinning, and her body tingled in anticipation. With Adam staying down the hall from her, maybe they’d be able to spend some time together.

“Well don’t stand here.” Mazie waved her away. “He’s waiting outside, isn’t he?”

Bridgett blinked rapidly. “Oh. Right.” She spun to leave. “Thanks again, Mazie.”

“And don’t run off to Vegas and get yourself hitched.” Mazie still held a tiny grudge against her sister for eloping last year, although she’d never admit it aloud. Lexi’s elopement had stunned Mazie, along with the rest of Ramblewood. But it hadn’t compared to the snub she’d felt when she’d found out Lexi had asked Bridgett to be the maid of honor. It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision—Lexi hadn’t meant to hurt her sister.

Bridgett tried to tamp down her excitement as she walked to the front porch, where she’d asked Adam to wait. She may be desperate for a distraction, but she wasn’t desperate for a man. She pushed open the screen door. “Adam, I—” Where was he? And where was his truck? He’d parked it at the curb in front of the Bed & Biscuit earlier.

Disappointment tore through Bridgett. Heaviness in her chest replaced the tingling sensation she’d experienced moments earlier. She had permitted herself a small piece of happiness and as quickly as it’d come, it had vanished.

A voice called out to her when she headed inside. “I asked him to move.” Bridgett turned toward the street. One of Ramblewood’s men in blue stood on the other side of the front gate. “The weather’s supposed to remain nice tonight and the festival vendors decided to set up early. His truck was in the way, so I asked him to move it to the side lot.”

Bridgett let out a huge breath and sagged against the porch railing. She had no right to feel relief, disappointment or any emotion for a man she’d met hours ago. Not for a stranger passing through town. Mazie’s words echoed through her head. Bridgett’s first instinct had been to take a gamble on a new life and love, just as her sister had. Abby had managed to snag a fiancé, find her dream job and move half way across the country in under a month. If she had the opportunity to begin again in a new town, she’d jump at it. One way or another, she needed out of Ramblewood. And who knew, maybe after getting to know a little more about Adam, Bridgett would be glad he was moving on. Or, maybe she’d want more...

“Thank you.” Bridgett waved goodbye to the officer and straightened some of the potted flowers along the porch. She’d waited patiently for Mr. Right. Of course, it was too soon to know where Adam fit into the mix. When Bridgett experimented with a new dish, she tried different ingredients to test how they tasted together. Sometimes she had a hit, other times a flop. Relationships weren’t any different. Bridgett had stopped dating after her last boyfriend, not wanting to risk another disappointment. But Adam was a new ingredient in Ramblewood. And she welcomed the opportunity to explore the possibilities.

* * *

ADAM POCKETED HIS keys as he approached the inn’s front porch. Unnoticed, he watched Bridgett rearrange various fall plants. His mother would be able to rattle off every plant’s common name along with its genus and species. To him, they were just puffy flowers. Mums possibly, but he couldn’t be certain. His mother had a passion for horticulture, but she’d never treated it as more than a hobby. Adam had once promised his mother he would build her a huge nursery so she could run the business she’d always envisioned. She’d laughed off the prospect and Adam knew she hadn’t taken him seriously. When he’d stumbled upon the sketches she’d tucked away in a drawer, he’d vowed to make her dreams a reality. And he would have, except for one problem. By the time he’d acquired the financial security to give his parents anything they desired, they’d already disowned him.

It wasn’t just his band’s notoriety for destroying hotel rooms or the leaked cell-phone photos of him with a certain centerfold. Adam hung his head as he remembered the time he had attempted to explain the pictures to his family. The groupies appalled his mother, although Dad had once hinted that he was a bit jealous of his son. Lizzy said his parents had questioned the tabloid rumors about his supposed drug addiction and a reported sex tape, and even if they had been true, they might have moved past it. When he didn’t fly home after Lizzy’s ex put her in the hospital or when his father had a heart attack, he’d sealed his own fate.

Adam’s gut clenched at the thought. It shouldn’t have mattered where he was touring. He could have postponed the shows...but he hadn’t. With that, and the way he’d misrepresented his upbringing, refusing to acknowledge their existence, he couldn’t blame them for disowning him.

The Snake’s persona claimed he had bounced from one foster home to another, barely remembering his mother. Some reports suggested she was a prostitute, others said she had died. Either way, it hadn’t sat well with his parents. He’d even given interviews about his hatred for his parents and how they had better not show up asking for a handout.

Adam’s hands fisted. It was an act. An image created to sway the public into believing good could come from bad. None of it was true. Adam had hated the idea from the start. But that hadn’t stopped him from going along with it. All connections to Texas vanished with his new name and look. The country-singer hopeful had become a hard-core rock star.

Adam raked a hand through his freshly shorn hair. The plan had drifted off course. The country labels thought his edgy songs and playing style pushed the genre too much and suggested he either dial it back or head in the hard rock direction. He wouldn’t allow anyone to stifle his creativity. Toning it down wasn’t an option. Amping it up was.

The money and fame had been amazing at first, but it had come at an enormous expense. His first manager had only seen dollar signs when he’d created Adam’s image. But he’d done his job well, because it had gotten Adam in front of the right record labels. When he’d formed his backup band, Adam had kept the facade. Feeling they could do better, the band had collectively fired their manager and hired a new management company. They’d signed a five-album deal within three months. Their big break had arrived and Adam had told his new manager the truth, wanting to end the lies before it cost him more than it already had. But the record label wouldn’t budge. They’d bought the entire package and feared they’d lose too much money if Adam’s innocuous Texas upbringing was revealed. A booking agent had scored them a world tour and Adam hadn’t wanted to risk losing it.

Adam shook his head. There had been ways out of it. He could have easily let it slip in an interview. A random post on any of his social media accounts would have fed the flames enough to get everyone talking. But he hadn’t. He’d loved the fame. Loved the money. And he had assumed if he waved enough of it at his family, they’d understand. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

He understood why they’d given up on him and why the Katy townsfolk ignored him when he occasionally drifted into town to visit Lizzy. It hadn’t been often. A handful of times in ten years. Adam wasn’t sure how to win their trust again, but he knew he needed to make some major changes and Ramblewood seemed like a great place to start. Maybe now he could focus on his dream of opening the music school he’d been planning for years.

“There you are.” Bridgett leaned over the railing “I should have told you to use the side parking area earlier.”

“No biggie.” The late afternoon sun cast a soft, warm radiant glow upon Bridgett, almost ethereal. He knew he should stay away from her. Wasn’t that what he’d told himself at the restaurant? But he was drawn to her. Hadn’t been able to resist asking her to help him find somewhere to stay. Bridgett intrigued him.

She may be leery of reporters, but she still maintained a cheery attitude toward her customers.

He’d wandered around town for a while waiting for Bridgett’s shift to end. He’d met a few people, visited some of the shops and even caught himself smiling in a storefront window. Ramblewood reminded him of home...his real home. He could envision himself rebuilding his life here. Maybe he still had a chance of moving back to Texas.

Adam made a habit of taking each once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that came his way. Sometimes they panned out, but usually they had gotten him into a hell of a lot of trouble. This—Ramblewood—was different and real. For once, Adam vowed to follow his heart instead of doing whatever his people told him to do.

“I’m sorry, you’ll have to head back to your truck.” Bridgett glanced down at her white Keds and sighed.

Adam’s heart sank. The disappointment was more than he’d anticipated. “I appreciate you trying, though. I’ll check out one of the hotels off the interstate. I do hope to see you again.”

“Oh, you’ll be seeing me.” Bridgett lifted her head and playfully wrinkled her nose as she smiled. “I’ll be the one sitting next to you at dinner tonight. Mazie has an incredible meal planned. One of the perks of staying at the Bed & Biscuit. She serves two meals a day.”

“I don’t understand,” Adam said. Bridgett gracefully glided down the stairs. She was still in her waitress uniform but in his mind, she could have been a model on the runway in Milan. He had been invited to quite a few fashion weeks over the years and none of the women compared to Bridgett. Though she had a natural beauty and aura about her—if you plied her with makeup, hair spray and couture gowns, you’d suffocate her. “I can stay?”

Bridgett nodded. “Grab your luggage, and we’ll check you in.”

Crap. That was something Adam hadn’t thought of. Checking in meant showing ID and he no longer resembled his driver’s license photo. Plus if he was from Katy, Texas, how would he explain the California driver’s license?

After grabbing a small duffel bag from the truck, he met Bridgett inside the inn’s foyer. The white-and-red Victorian wasn’t the type of place he was accustomed to, but it possessed an inviting charm. And although he’d never admit it to his friends in LA, he’d rather lodge in a quaint and cozy B and B than an obnoxiously garish and overpriced hotel.

“Adam, this is Janie Anderson. She handles all guest relations.” Bridgett introduced him to a middle-aged woman coming down a dramatic, richly stained oak staircase ending at a large semi-circle landing that created the room’s focal point. “Janie, I would like to introduce you to Adam—I’m sorry, I don’t know your last name.”

“Steele.” He hoped Bridgett hadn’t noticed the beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He turned to Janie, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“She’ll register you while I check on your room. Janie, Adam will be staying in the Balcony Room. I’ll be back down in a minute.”

“Oh, you must be one of Mazie’s cousins.” Janie removed a leather-bound registry from the front desk drawer. From the landing, Bridgett shook her head when Adam almost corrected the woman. Janie ran her fingers across the top edge of the pages until she reached the ribbon marker, opened the book flat and turned it to face him. “If you’ll fill in your name, address and phone number—although with you being a relative I’m sure Mazie has it already—you’ll be good to go.”

No identification, no license plate number, just a person’s word. How ironic that his own family wouldn’t take him at his word, but strangers would. When he finished filling out the registry, Bridgett was ready for him. He followed her to the second floor, enjoying the sight of her bare legs and pert backside while she led him to his room.

“Here you are. Mazie keeps this room for out-of-town family, but she made an exception for you. And before you ask, it’s easier for Janie to think you’re a distant relative than endure her third degree.” Bridgett crossed to an elaborate glass-framed and oak-paneled door. “You have your own private balcony looking onto Ramblewood Park, a fireplace and a private bathroom. Mazie decorated this space with mid-1800s Victorian furnishings. Each room is different, but this is the nicest one. Of course, she designed it with pets in mind so there’s no frilly lace to snag tiny toenails. I don’t think you’ll find it too feminine.”

And feminine it wasn’t. Warm, rich oak accents carried throughout the crimson-painted room, from the chair rail to the hand-carved fireplace, giving the space an air of male sophistication.

“It’s perfect,” Adam said. “How can I repay Mazie for her generosity?”

“Don’t break her heart, that’s how you can repay me.” Adam jumped. A woman in her late twenties stood in the doorway, rivaling Bridgett in height. “I’m Mazie Lawson and welcome to my Bed & Biscuit.”

Bridgett gave Mazie a meaningful look. “I apologize for my overly cautious friend.”

Adam extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you and thank you for making room for me.” Adam wasn’t sure what he’d expected Mazie to look like, but he’d figured she would’ve been more than twenty or thirty years older.

“Well, I need to finish preparing dinner. We’re eating at six-thirty. Bridgett, would you mind stopping by Bridle Dance to pick up a sack of pecans Kay has for me? You can take my car. I ran short and I’m determined to win the pie contest this weekend. I won’t allow Maggie Dalton to take the blue ribbon fifteen years in a row. And I do wish you’d reconsider not dropping out of the competition. You had your heart set on entering.”

Bridgett shook her head. “I’d never beat you or Maggie, anyway,” Bridgett said, laughing. “Maggie and Mazie...the two pie queens of Ramblewood. Let me guess. You’re going to remain in this house, miss the majority of the festival and bake pies until the contest on Sunday afternoon.” Bridgett turned her attention to Adam. “The Magpie was a bakery before it became a luncheonette. Miss Parisian Le Cordon Bleu here is jealous that she hasn’t been able to beat a woman who made a career out of pies and cakes.”

“The Le Cordon Bleu?” Adam asked. “I’m impressed.”

“As you should be, mon cher,” Mazie said in a horribly Americanized French accent before turning to leave. “I must cook. Au revoir!”

“I’ll head out to the ranch in a bit,” she called after Mazie. Bridgett faced Adam. She shifted from one foot to the other and then scanned the room. An awkward silence filled the air as she flicked her thumb under her index finger repeatedly. Adam wondered if she’d just realized they were alone together. “I need to shower away the luncheonette.” She inched back toward the hallway. “Would you care to join me—I mean drive out to the ranch with me?”

“Sure, I’d love to see more of your town.” Adam’s mind veered off in a whole other direction as he envisioned her showering. “Do you live here, too?”

“Temporarily,” Bridgett said. “It’s a long story. I’ll meet you downstairs in thirty.”

Adam waited until he heard Bridgett’s footsteps fade away before he stuck his head into the hallway. A door closed at the opposite end. Ducking back inside his room, he relaxed against the wall and closed his eyes, amazed how things could change overnight. He had decided to alter his life when he’d left his sister’s earlier. A few hours later, a fresh start had fallen into his lap.

* * *

BRIDGETT SWORE SHE’D never taken a faster shower. She attempted to blow her hair out, cursing its thickness. Getting it to a half-way decent point, she reached for her cosmetics bag. The no-makeup look took more of an effort than simply slapping on blush and lipstick.

Almost mid-October and the weather was still on the warm side during the day. The nights brought about a welcoming chill after the scorching summer they’d had. Jeans, a form-fitting tank with a loose white sleeveless linen shirt over it and her favorite inlaid-heart cowboy boots comprised her first-date outfit.

First date? What a delirious thought! A quick run to Bridle Dance for pecans did not constitute a date. An outing maybe. Bridgett slipped her long silver-and-jade pendant necklace around her neck, took one last glance in the mirror and reminded herself to descend the stairs slowly or else she’d end up riding them on her butt. Mazie still hadn’t replaced the runner they’d torn out due to a pet guest destroying it a week earlier.

After she said a quick goodbye to Mazie and Janie, Bridgett stepped out onto the front porch.

“Did you even try?” Adam stood near the wrought-iron gate leading to the street, his cell phone to his ear. “Okay, I’m sorry, but you need to understand where I’m coming from, too.”

Bridgett knew she shouldn’t eavesdrop, but curiosity got the best of her. Not wanting to be seen, she slipped back into the house, listening through the screen. She managed to pick up bits and pieces of the conversation as Adam paced the width of the front yard.

“Lizzy, look at it from my side. This wasn’t what I wanted, either.”

Lizzy? Could he be married or involved with someone? She hadn’t thought to ask. And, why had he been on the interstate driving past Ramblewood? Was he heading to or from home?

Bridgett chewed on the inside of her cheek. How could she be so naive? He could be an ax murderer for all she knew. And here she’d invited him to stay a few feet away from her bedroom. Bridgett covered her face with her hands, debating what to do next.

Take a risk. That’s what Abby would do. Her sister had driven all the way to Texas on a hunch, and it had changed her life. Pushing back her shoulders, Bridgett flung open the door just as Adam reached for the handle. Startled, they both laughed.

“Do you want me to drive?”

“Are you married?”

They both spoke at the same time. Adam tilted his head to one side. “Married? No, I’m not married, dating or otherwise attached. You?” Adam asked. “It’s not why you’re living here, is it? Fight with your husband?”

“No, I haven’t been lucky in the love department.” Bridgett’s toes curled in her boots at the mention of his single status. “The last real date I had was—” Bridgett cut her own sentence short before she embarrassed herself. “Sure, you can drive.”

“You look great, by the way,” Adam said from behind her. “I like your hair down.”

“Thank you.” It wasn’t the first time she’d ever been complimented, but coming from him it meant more somehow.

* * *

THE CAB OF his truck quickly filled with an exotic floral scent when Bridgett climbed in beside him. Adam hoped wherever they headed would take a while. He enjoyed having her to himself, although he’d enjoy it more if his tongue would connect with his brain. Known for usually saying too much, Adam struggled to find ways to keep the conversation going. There was so much about his life he had to hide that it was hard to find a safe topic of conversation. He wondered if Bridgett even listened to his music. Her boots screamed country but he detected a slight edginess waiting to break free. Besides, some of his ballads had actually crossed over to the country stations.

Bridgett directed him where to turn, pointing out various places in town. The freedom associated with driving down rural roads, without traffic, smog and constant noise reminded him of his early twenties, before his world had changed. Wanting to enjoy that freedom, he hadn’t turned on the radio since he’d left Lizzy’s and unless he was using his cell phone, he kept it off, as well. His voice mail was probably full and he couldn’t care less. Adam wanted to remove himself from that world and embrace a simpler life.

“Where were you headed to when you stumbled upon Ramblewood?” Bridgett asked.

“Promise you won’t laugh when I tell you.” When Adam had decided to drive to California instead of fly, he’d borrowed a pickup he’d purchased for Lizzy but she’d never driven, having said it wasn’t her style. “I had planned on taking my dream trip across the United States, visiting all those crazy tourist attractions like the world’s largest ball of twine and the biggest iron skillet. I saw it in a movie once, but I never had the time to do it myself. After the falling out I had with my family, I wanted to take a mindless, fun trip.” The drive to LA had been a bucket list item he’d decided to knock off while he tried to sort through his plans.

“Falling out?” Bridgett asked. “What happened?”

Adam gripped the steering wheel tighter. He’d said more than he’d intended.

“Let’s say I didn’t exactly turn out the way my family had expected me to.” He wished he could tell her the whole story. But if he wanted a second chance in Texas, he needed people to accept him as he was today. Not as he used to be. Plus, he couldn’t take the chance on his transformation and whereabouts being leaked to the media. Not that he thought that was Bridgett’s intention, but sometimes people let things slip. No, The Snake needed to stay in the past...for now.

“Understood,” Bridgett said. “It’s none of my business, really. What was your first stop?”

“I haven’t made it there yet. I grew up near the world’s largest Igloo cooler. I guess you could say I started my trip with a freebie. My first stop was supposed to be the Toilet Seat Museum in San Antonio followed by the Cadillac Ranch in Amarillo.”

“Isn’t the Cadillac Ranch the place with the cars sticking halfway into the ground?”

“That’s the one,” Adam nodded.

“I can understand the cars, but a toilet seat museum?”

“This ninety-something-year-old man has turned a thousand plus toilet seats into works of art over the last fifty years. If he can create it, I can take the time to see it.”

“I’m sensing an art theme with you.”

“I love art,” Adam declared. “Tell you what. If I go to San Antonio, I’ll take you with me and you can see it for yourself.” Bridgett’s face remained stoic. No laugh or smile. Just a continued stare past the windshield. “Was it something I said?”

“No,” Bridgett sighed. “Something I promised myself and Mazie earlier.”

“I’m a good listener, if you want to talk.”

“I promised myself to be free and live more, so yes, I’d love to join you and see toilet seats. But, I promised Mazie I wouldn’t rush into anything with you. What she doesn’t know—and I’m not sure why I’m telling you this—is that I’m planning to leave town, anyway. As soon as I find a restaurant that I can afford, or one of the places I’ve applied at hires me I’m out of here. Whether I see toilet seats with you or leave on my own I risk being strangled by my friend. I’m trying to figure out if that’s worse than letting myself down by staying put.”

Her voice held a twinge of humor, but Adam sensed the weight of the world was on her shoulders as she contemplated her next step in life. But leaving home? He could relate and it didn’t sit well with him for some reason. He should stay out of it. It wasn’t his place, but he found himself unable to resist trying to reason with her.

“If I may be so bold to offer one piece of advice, and I learned this lesson the hard way: Follow your heart, but don’t burn your bridges. It’s not always easy to go home again.”

Adam turned to see Bridgett watching him closely. A shiver ran up his spine. Suddenly he felt exposed.

“Are things bad with your family?” Her tone was warm, not a hint accusatory.

Unable to speak without his voice cracking, he only nodded. Bridgett reached out and laid her hand on his arm.

“I understand more than you realize,” she said softly.

Covering her hand with his, he drove the rest of the way to the ranch in silence.