Читать книгу Heart of Texas Volume 3: Nell's Cowboy - Debbie Macomber - Страница 12

Two

Nell located an old-fashioned lantern for Travis Grant. It had probably been in the family for fifty years and was nothing if not authentic. Next she gathered together fresh sun-dried sheets, a couple of blankets and a pillow. She tucked everything inside a plastic bag and raced through the storm, holding the lit lantern with one hand. When she arrived at the bunkhouse, Nell discovered Travis sitting on the end of a bed, looking tired and out of sorts.

The initial group of tourists was scheduled to show up the first week of May, and almost everything in the bunkhouse had been readied. It was primitive, but then this was the real thing. A genuine ranch, complete with enough cattle to give would-be cowboys the experience of dealing with a herd, horses for them to ride and plenty of land. Nell was as determined as Curly in the movie City Slickers to make real wranglers out of her guests. It was what they were paying her big bucks to do, and she firmly believed in giving them their money’s worth.

“Thanks,” Travis said when he saw her. He stood up to remove the bag from her arms, and she placed the lantern on a small wooden dresser opposite the bed.

“I realize this isn’t the Ritz,” she said as she spread the crisp sheet across the thin mattress.

“Hey, beggars can’t be choosers,” her guest reminded her. “I’m grateful you’re willing to take me in at all.”

Actually no one had thought to ask her. It was her mother-in-law who’d agreed to put him up for the night when Phil Patterson phoned. But to be fair, Nell suspected she would have agreed herself.

“With the rodeo coming, the Pattersons didn’t have any vacancies,” he explained unnecessarily, leaning over to help her with the top sheet and blanket.

The lantern actually gave a fair amount of light, much to Nell’s chagrin. She chose to pretend she didn’t recognize him. And either he was too tired to remember the way she’d harangued him at the side of the road or he’d decided to forget. Whatever the case, she was grateful.

“Does the Texas hill country generally get storms like this?”

“This one’s worse than some,” she told him, lifting the edge of the mattress to tuck in the covers. Given his size, she wondered if the bunk would be big enough for him. Well, there was no help for it, since this bed—or another exactly like it—was the only one available.

“What about losing your electricity?”

“Happens now and then,” she said, not looking at him. She reached for the pillow and stuffed it inside the case, then plumping it up, set it at the head of the bed. “Is there anything else I can get you?” she asked, ready to return to her family.

“Nothing. I appreciate your putting me up,” he said again.

“No problem.”

“Mom.” Breathless, Jeremy burst into the bunkhouse, his face bright. He carried a blue-speckled tin coffeepot in one hand and a matching cup in the other. Emma followed with a covered plate.

“Grandma sent us over with hot chocolate and—”

“—one of Mom’s cinnamon rolls,” Emma finished for her brother. Travis could see a black-and-white dog waiting patiently at the door.

He took the pot and cup from Jeremy and set them on the nightstand. “Hey, no one said anything about room service. How’d I get so lucky?”

Emma handed him the plate. “My mom’s the best cook in the world.”

Nell grinned and put an arm around each of her children. “Now probably isn’t the time to mention we roasted hot dogs in the fireplace for dinner.”

“Are you staying for the chili cook-off?” Emma asked their guest.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Travis sat on the side of the bed and poured himself a mug of steaming cocoa.

Nell wasn’t sure how Ruth had managed to heat the cocoa—the fireplace, she supposed—but was pleased her mother-in-law had made the effort.

“Mom’s going to win. Her chili’s the best.”

“Emma’s opinion might be a little biased,” Nell said, steering the two children toward the door. “Let us know if you need anything.”

“I will. Good night,” Travis said as they left to go back to the house.

Nell turned and smiled when she saw that he’d already started on the cinnamon roll with the appreciation of a man who rarely tasted anything homemade.

The children ran across the yard ahead of her. Lucky, their border-collie mix, followed at their heels. Ruth waited for Nell in the kitchen, holding the candle and looking inordinately pleased with herself.

“Travis Grant seems like a nice young man,” she said the moment Nell entered the kitchen.

“He’s from New York City,” Nell said, wanting it understood right then and there that he was a big-city boy and only drifting through Promise. It just so happened that he’d ventured into a strange town and needed a place to sleep; there’d be plenty of guests just like him in the months to come.

“We have a big day tomorrow,” Nell said. “It wouldn’t hurt any of us to get to bed early for once.”

As she’d expected, her children put up token protests, but they didn’t argue long. Both were tired and, without electricity, there was little to entertain them. The lights probably wouldn’t be coming on soon, especially with the rain and the wind still so intense.

“Did our guest mention what he’s doing in Promise?” Ruth asked. She held her hand protectively in front of the flame of the candle she carried and led the way across the living room.

Nell wondered, too. “He didn’t say.”

“You could’ve asked.”

“Well, I didn’t. That’s his business, not mine.”

“Weren’t you curious?”

“A little.” A lot actually, but Nell wasn’t willing to admit it.

“He’s probably here for the rodeo,” Jeremy suggested, heading up the stairs, Lucky at his side.

“Maybe, but I don’t think so.” Nell wasn’t sure why she thought that, but she did. Her guess was that when morning came Travis Grant would pack up his bags and leave.

“He reminds me of someone,” Emma said, and yawned.

“Me, too,” Jeremy murmured.

Jake. Nell had seen it, too, not in looks but in build. Travis Grant was a lumberjack of a man, just the way her beloved Jake had been. Sadly the children’s memories of their father had dimmed with time into vague recollections.

The family stood at the landing at the top of the stairs, where they exchanged good-night hugs and kisses. Even Jeremy let his mother and grandma kiss him tonight. Ruth guided the children to their bedrooms while Nell retrieved a candle for herself.

Once everyone was in bed, she undressed and put on a full-length white cotton nightgown. She unbraided her hair and brushed it out, the thick dark tresses reaching halfway down her back. Jake had loved her hair, had often gathered it in his huge hands and run it through his fingers. Nell missed those moments, missed everything about Jake.

Time, she’d discovered, was a great healer, just as Pastor McMillen had told her. The grief became duller, less acute, with every month and year that passed. But it was still there, always there. Now though, her grief shared space with all the good memories, the happy moments they’d had together.

Nothing would ever erase those ten wonderful years she’d shared with the man she loved.

Setting her hairbrush aside, Nell pulled back the covers and climbed into bed. She leaned against the headboard, her back supported by two pillows, and opened the drawer in her nightstand. She took out a pen and her journal.

By the light of a single candle, she wrote down the events of the day, pausing now and then to collect her thoughts. When she’d finished, she reread what she’d written, something she rarely did, and was surprised to note she’d mentioned Travis Grant in the first line. It didn’t take her long to figure out why.

It was because he was like Jake and meeting him had shaken her. Not the first time on the road into town, when she’d stopped and read him the riot act, but later. It hadn’t hit her until they stood across from each other to make the bed. He was the same height as Jake.

Nell reached for the framed photograph of Jake taken on their wedding day. It was a rare shot of him without his Stetson. Fresh from the military, his hair had been cropped close. He looked strong, capable—and oddly vulnerable.

Her heart clenched as it always did when she studied the photograph, but the usual tears didn’t come.

“Good night, my love,” she whispered, and placed the photograph back on her nightstand. As she did, Nell saw a light come on outside the window. Tossing the blankets aside, she peered out and noticed a bright, even glow coming from the bunkhouse. The electricity was back on.

* * *

“I don’t know how much longer this is going to take,” Laredo Smith said as he reappeared to give another update on Savannah’s progress. He’d practically worn grooves in the carpet from the bedroom to the living room where the men had gathered. Rain continued to beat against the window and there were occasional flashes of lightning, although the storm had begun to let up.

Grady smiled indulgently at his brother-in-law, grateful that the electricity was back on. “Babies take as long as they take,” he said wisely. He reclined in the leather chair and laced his fingers behind his head, rather pleased with his insight.

“That’s easy for you to say,” Laredo snapped in a rare display of temper. “It’s not your wife in there giving birth to your child. Let’s see how calm you are when Caroline delivers.”

The grin faded from Grady’s face. Laredo had a point.

“Birthing babies is a whole lot different from bringing calves into the world,” Cal said. Grady’s best friend leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees, then glanced at his watch.

Grady was surprised when he checked the time. It was already past midnight, and it could be hours more before Savannah’s baby was born. Not one of the assembled group showed any sign of being tired, much less leaving. Caroline and Jane were with Savannah, and his daughter was in bed upstairs. Six-year-old Maggie had tried to stay awake but fell asleep in his arms around ten.

Laredo had been with Savannah from the first, but returned to the living room periodically to make his reports. Grady watched his brother-in-law with interest. Laredo was so pale he looked in danger of passing out.

“I had no idea it would be like this,” Laredo mumbled, ramming all ten fingers through his hair.

“That it’d take this long?” Grady asked.

Laredo vigorously shook his head. “No—that I’d feel this scared, this nervous. Savannah and I must’ve read ten books about pregnancy and birth, and I thought I was ready. Hell, man, I’ve been around horses and cattle all my life, but this is nothing like I expected.”

Those books were the very ones Grady and Caroline were reading now. His wife was two months pregnant. Grady had been walking on air from the moment she’d told him. He’d thought about the baby a lot, his excitement building as he watched his own sister’s pregnancy progress. He and Caroline had told only a few people, since she was months from showing.

To Grady, his wife had never looked more beautiful. Maggie was pleased and excited at the prospect of becoming a big sister. What Grady hadn’t considered was this strange emotion Laredo exhibited.

Fear.

He hadn’t thought of his child’s birth as a frightening event. He’d imagined himself a proud father, holding his infant son or daughter. He enjoyed the prospect of people making a fuss and giving their opinions on which parent the baby resembled. Friends would come to visit and it would be a time of celebration and joy.

But tonight Laredo had destroyed his illusions. In his imaginings, Grady had glossed over the actual birth. Until now. Beyond any doubt, he knew that when it was Caroline’s time to deliver their child, he’d be as bad as Laredo. Pacing, worrying, wondering. Praying.

“I’m going back in there,” Laredo announced as though he couldn’t bear to be away from Savannah a moment longer.

Grady stood, slapped his friend on the back to encourage him, then sank into his seat again.

“We’re going to be just like him, you know,” Cal said.

Grady nodded in agreement. “Worse, probably.”

Cal grinned. “When’s Caroline due?”

“The end of October.”

“You two certainly didn’t waste any time, did you?” Cal teased.

“Nope.” Their wedding had been the last week of October, and Caroline was pregnant by the first week of January. They’d hoped it would happen quickly, seeing as Grady was already well into his thirties and Maggie was going on seven. It made sense to start their family early.

As the wind howled, Cal looked out the window. “Why is it babies are always born during a storm?”

“It probably has something to do with barometric pressure.”

Cal scratched his head. “You think so?”

The hell if Grady knew, but it sounded good. The phone pealed in the kitchen and the two men stared at each other.

“It’s probably Glen and Ellie again,” Cal said.

Cal’s brother and his wife lived in town and would have been with them, Grady suspected, if not for the storm.

Grady answered the phone. “Nothing yet,” he said, instead of his usual greeting.

“Why didn’t anyone phone me?” Dovie Boyd Hennessey demanded. Dovie and Savannah had been close since the death of Savannah’s mother, Barbara, seven years earlier. Dovie owned and operated the antique shop, which sold everything from old scarves and jewelry to valuable china cups and saucers, all arranged around antique furnishings. The women in town loved to shop at Dovie’s; she was universally admired and treasured by the town.

“Savannah’s in labor and I only now find out,” Dovie said, as though she’d missed the social event of the year.

“Who told you?” Grady asked. The women in Promise had a communication system the CIA could envy.

“Frank, naturally,” Dovie told him. “I guess he talked to Laredo earlier this evening. He just got home.” She paused for breath. “Has the baby come yet?”

“Nope, and according to Jane, it could be hours before the blessed event.”

“How’s Savannah?”

“Better than Laredo,” Grady said.

Dovie’s soft laugh drifted over the line. “Give her my love?”

“Of course.”

“And call me the minute you hear, understand? I don’t care what time of day or night it is.”

“You got it,” he said on the tail end of a yawn.

“Don’t let me down, Grady.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he assured her.

By the time he returned to the living room, Cal had picked up a magazine and was flipping through the pages.

“You read that one an hour ago,” Grady reminded him.

“So I did.”

A few minutes later Caroline came into the room, and Grady leaped to his feet. “Sit down,” he urged his wife. “You look exhausted.” She should have been in bed hours ago, but he knew better than to suggest it. Caroline was as stubborn as they came, but then so was he. They understood each other, and he could appreciate her need to be with her best friend.

“It won’t be long now,” she told him as she slid her arms around his waist. “The baby’s crowned.”

Grady nodded. “Wonderful. How’s Savannah?”

“She’s doing well.”

“And Laredo?”

“He’s holding Savannah’s hand and helping her with her breathing.” Grady sat down, pulling Caroline onto his lap. She pressed her head against his shoulder, and he kissed her temple.

Grady glanced in Cal’s direction and found he’d folded his arms and shut his eyes. Caroline’s eyes were closed, too, and Grady decided to rest his own. Just for a few minutes, he told himself.

An infant’s cry shattered the silence. Grady jerked awake and Caroline jumped to her feet and shook her head. “Oh, my goodness!” she gasped.

Grady hadn’t a clue how long they’d been out. Cal straightened and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“The kid’s got one hell of a pair of lungs.”

A few minutes later the bedroom door opened and Laredo emerged, carrying a tiny bundle in his arms. Grady noted that his friend’s eyes were bright and his cheeks tear-streaked.

“We have a daughter,” he said, gazing with awe at the baby he held. “Laura Rose, meet your family,” he whispered to the newborn. “This is your uncle Grady and aunt Caroline.”

“Hey, don’t forget me,” Cal said, stepping over to gaze down at the baby.

“That’s Cal,” Laredo continued. “His wife’s the one who coaxed you into the world.” Laredo gazed at the small group gathered around the baby. “Isn’t she beautiful?” he said. “Doesn’t she look like Savannah?”

Grady studied Laura Rose carefully and decided she looked more like an alien, but he certainly didn’t say so.

Another hour passed before Grady and Caroline were in their own home and their own bed. Fortunately the rain had ended. Grady had carried a sleeping Maggie from Savannah’s place to the car and then into her room; she never did wake up. He was exhausted, too. This had been a night to remember. His sister was a mother, and for the first time in his life he was an uncle. Damn, but it felt good.

Caroline pulled back the covers and joined him. She sighed as her head hit the pillow. “Did anyone phone Dovie?” she asked.

“I did,” Grady said as he reached for the light.

“Good.” Caroline rolled onto her side. “I think I could sleep for a week,” she mumbled.

Grady drew his wife close, cuddling her spoon-fashion. His arm went around her and he flattened his hand against her stomach and grinned, feeling extraordinarily happy. Soon Laura Rose would have a cousin.

* * *

Travis awoke and lay in the warm bed, unwilling to face the bright morning light. Not just yet, anyway. Something warm nestled against his feet, and he was content to stay exactly as he was for a few more minutes.

Despite his exhaustion, he’d had a hard time falling asleep. It didn’t help that his legs stuck out a good six inches over the end of the bed. Those cowboys must’ve been pretty short guys, he thought wryly.

His eyes flew open as his toes felt something damp and ticklish. He bolted upright to find a goat standing at the foot of the bed, chewing for all it was worth. It didn’t take Travis long to realize that the animal had eaten the socks clean off his feet. All that remained were a few rows of ribbing on his ankles.

Obviously, once he’d fallen asleep, he’d slept deeply—the sleep of the jet-lagged. He laughed and wiggled his toes just to be sure the socks were the only thing the goat had enjoyed. So far, so good.

“Yucky, what are you doing in here?”

The door flew open and Nell’s boy—Jeremy, if Travis remembered correctly—rushed inside.

The boy planted his hands on his hips and glared at the goat.

“Morning,” Travis said.

“Hi.” Jeremy smiled and must have noticed Travis’s feet for the first time because he burst out laughing. “Yucky ate your socks!”

“So I noticed.”

“Sorry,” Jeremy said, sounding anything but. He covered his mouth to hide a giggle, which made the situation even more amusing. “Mom said to tell you breakfast will be ready in twenty minutes if you’re interested.”

Travis didn’t need a second invitation. His stomach growled at the mere mention of food. If the cinnamon roll the night before was any indication, Nell Bishop was one hell of a cook.

Travis dressed, showered and shaved, entering the kitchen just as Nell set a platter of scrambled eggs and bacon on the table.

“Morning,” he greeted her.

“Morning,” she returned, and poured him a mug of coffee.

Travis gratefully accepted it and pulled out a chair. Nell joined him and the children, and the three bowed their heads for grace. The instant they were through, Jeremy reached for the platter.

His mother sent him a warning glance and Jeremy immediately passed the platter to Travis. “Here,” the boy said. “You’re our guest. Please help yourself.”

Travis was impressed with the boy’s manners. So many children didn’t seem to have any these days. He forked some fluffy scrambled eggs onto his plate and took a piece of toast from a bread basket in the center of the table. He gave Nell a sidelong glance as she buttered her own toast. She was obviously doing her best to be a good mother. The owner of the B and B had told him Nell was a widow, and he admired her for the loving manner in which she schooled her children.

“You collected all the eggs?” Nell asked Emma, interrupting his thoughts.

“Yes, Mama.”

“Did you check under Bertha?”

The little girl grinned and nodded.

“I understand,” Nell said, turning to Travis, “that we owe you a pair of socks.”

He glanced up from his plate and saw that her mouth quivered with the beginnings of a smile.

“Best darn pair I owned.”

“Your feet must’ve been pretty ripe to attract Yucky’s attention,” Jeremy said.

Travis couldn’t help it; he burst out laughing. Nell, however, didn’t take kindly to her son’s comment. Jeremy read his mother’s look and mumbled an apology.

Breakfast was wonderful, the food even better than he’d expected and the company delightful.

As soon as the kids had finished, they excused themselves and set their plates in the sink, then rushed out the back door.

“The children have animals to tend before they catch the school bus,” Nell explained before he could voice his question.

“I see.”

“Jeremy’s got rabbits. Then there’s Yucky, whom you’ve already met.”

“We have a close and personal relationship,” he said, leaning back in his chair, savoring the last of his coffee.

“Currently we have twelve horses, but I plan on buying several more. Jeremy feeds them grain and alfalfa, and Emma makes sure they have plenty of water. I’ll be mucking out the stalls later this morning.”

Travis could see that they had their chores down to a science and admired the way they all worked together. Briefly he wondered about Ruth, but guessed she reserved her strength for later in the day.

Nell cleared the remaining dishes from the table. “Take your time,” she said as she put on a sweater and headed toward the door.

“Can I help?” he asked.

“Not at all. Just enjoy your coffee.”

Travis did as she suggested and watched from the window as Nell and the children worked together. They were a real team, efficient and cooperative. Half an hour later Jeremy and Emma raced into the house and grabbed their lunch boxes from the counter.

“We gotta go to school now,” Emma said, staring at Travis as though she’d much rather spend the day with him.

Jeremy was on his way out when he paused. “Will you be here tonight?”

Travis had to think about that. “Probably.”

“I hope you are,” the boy said. “It’s nice having another man around the place.” And with that, he flew out the door.

Travis rinsed his mug and set it beside the kitchen sink. He met Nell as he left the house. “Do you mind if I plug my computer into an outlet in the bunkhouse? I want to get some work done while I’m here.”

“Not at all,” she said, her smile congenial.

Whistling, Travis returned to the bunkhouse and retrieved his portable computer from his bag. With a minimum of fuss, he located an outlet and set up shop. The computer hummed its usual greeting as the screen saver reminded him that he was one hell of a good writer—a message he’d programmed in to battle the deluge of self-doubts all writers faced.

The note was just the boost his ego needed before he dug into his latest project. He’d achieved indisputable success with his series of Western stories for preadolescents and young teens. The book he planned to write next might possibly be his best; he could feel that even before he wrote the first word. A mainstream novel set in a Western ghost town—his editor had been ecstatic over the idea.

Travis never did the actual writing while he was on the road, but he wanted to document facts about the storm from the night before. One of his characters was sure to lose his socks to a hungry goat, too. He prided himself on the authenticity of his details, although in his past books, most of that background had come from research.

Rarely did anything happen to him that didn’t show up in a book sometime, one way or another. He used to think he kept his personal life out of his work, but that was a fallacy. Anyone who really knew him could follow his life by reading his books. The connections weren’t always direct. Take the end of his marriage, for example. Of the two books he’d written the year of his divorce, one took place in Death Valley and the other on the River of No Return. Those locations had corresponded to his emotional state at the time.

He didn’t want to stop and analyze why a ghost town appealed to him now. Maybe because his life felt empty and he struggled with loneliness. Travis realized without surprise that he envied Nell her children.

He entered notes about Texas, the drive from San Antonio, his impressions of the landscape and the people. The storm was described in plenty of detail. He made notes about Nell and her children. Ruth, too.

The next time he glanced up, he was shocked to discover it was midmorning. He stored the information onto a computer file and headed for the kitchen, hoping Nell kept a pot of coffee brewing during the day. He didn’t expect to see her, since she had stalls to muck out and plenty of other chores, many of which he knew next to nothing about.

He was pleasantly surprised to find her in the kitchen.

“Hello again,” he said.

“Hi.”

The spicy aroma of whatever she was cooking made him instantly hungry, despite the fact that he’d enjoyed one of the finest breakfasts he’d eaten in years.

“What are you making?” he asked. He noticed a can of beer sitting by the stove at—he glanced at his watch—10:35 a.m.! He wondered with some concern if she was a drinker...but then he saw her add it to whatever was in the large cast-iron pot.

“It’s chili,” she said. “Would you like a taste?”

“I’d love it.”

Nell dished up a small bowl and brought it to the table where Travis sat. “This might sound like a silly question, but did you happen to mention to Ruth how many nights you intend to stay?”

He delayed his first sample, wondering if Nell was looking for a way to get rid of him. He’d be keenly disappointed if that was the case. He happened to like Twin Canyons Ranch. His visit would add texture and realism to his novel. And being here was so much more interesting than staying at a hotel, or even at a bed and breakfast.

“I’m not sure yet,” Travis said in answer to her question.

He tried the chili. The instant his mouth closed over the spoon he realized this was the best-tasting chili he’d ever eaten, bar none. The flavors somersaulted across his tongue.

“What do you think?” she asked, her big brown eyes hopeful.

“If you don’t win that prize, I’ll want to know why.” He scooped up a second spoonful.

“You’re not just saying that, are you?” Her eyes went from hopeful to relieved.

“If I was the judge I’d award you the prize money without needing to taste anyone else’s. This is fabulous.”

Nell’s freshly scrubbed face glowed with a smile. Travis had seen his share of beautiful women, but he felt few would compare with Nell Bishop and her unspoiled beauty. The kind she possessed didn’t require makeup to enhance it. She was as real as a person could get.

“I made a terrible mistake when I saw you on the road yesterday,” she said, suddenly frowning a little.

“How’s that?”

“I implied you were...not too bright..” She pulled out a chair and sat across the table from him. “I was wrong. You’re obviously very bright, indeed!”