Читать книгу Heart of Texas Vol. 3: Caroline's Child - Debbie Macomber - Страница 8

“HOW COMEYOUWERE ASKED to be one of the judges for the chili cook-off?” Glen asked Ellie as they walked toward the rodeo grounds. The air was charged with excitement.

“Just clean living,” his wife replied and did her best to disguise a smile. Actually it had more to do with her participation in the Chamber of Commerce. But her husband had done nothing but complain from the moment he learned she’d been asked to judge the chili. It was a task he would have relished.

“I’m the one who happens to love chili,” he lamented—not for the first time.

Unable to help herself, Ellie laughed out loud. “If you want, I’ll put your name in as a judge for next year,” she said, hoping that would appease him.

“You’d do that?” They strolled hand in hand toward the grandstand. Luckily the ground had dried out after the recent rain. The rodeo was one of the most popular events of the year, along with the big summer dance and the Willie Nelson Fourth of July picnic. The town council always invited Willie to the picnic, but he had yet to accept. With or without him, it was held in his honor, and his music was piped through the park all day.

“Sure will. I’ll let Dovie know you want to be a judge next year,” Ellie promised. “Consider it just one of the many benefits of marrying a local businesswoman.”

Glen wrapped his arm about her waist and gave her a squeeze. “I know all about those benefits,” he said and kissed the top of her head.

He raised his hand so that it rested just beneath her breast. “Glen,” she warned under her breath.

He sighed and lowered his hand to her waist.

Ellie saw Jane and Cal and waved. Dr. Texas immediately returned her wave, and the two couples sauntered toward each other.

“So you’re going through with it,” Glen said when he saw his brother.

“I can’t talk him out of it,” Jane said, rolling her eyes.

“I’ve competed in the bull-riding competition for ten years,” Cal argued. “Besides, if I’m injured, I know one hell of a fine physician who’ll treat me with tender loving care.” He winked at his wife.

From the look Jane tossed her husband, Ellie suspected she’d be inclined to let him suffer. Grinning, she reflected on how well her matchmaking efforts had worked. She gladly accepted credit for pairing Cal with Jane; the match had been brilliant, if she did say so herself. Jane had moved to Promise as part of a government program in which she agreed to work for three years at the community health clinic in exchange for payment of her college loans.

Cal, of course, had been burned in the romance department several years earlier when his fiancée had dumped him a couple of days before their wedding and skipped town. In addition to the hurt and rejection he’d suffered, Cal had been left to deal with the embarrassment and the questions that followed. For years afterward he’d refused to have anything to do with women.

Until Jane.

She’d moved to town after living her entire life in California. Poor Jane had been completely and totally out of her element until Dovie took charge. One of the first things Dovie had done was introduce her to Ellie.

In the beginning Ellie wasn’t sure it was possible for them to be friends. Jane had an attitude about all things Texan, and it rubbed her—and just about everyone in town—the wrong way. Everything she said and did had an air of superiority.

Jane’s start had been rocky, that was for sure. Ellie smiled as she remembered that first lunch in which she’d suggested Jane take her wine-sipping, quiche-eating butt and go back where she’d come from. She was grateful now that Jane had decided to stick it out.

When Ellie set up the date between her distrustful brother-in-law and the doctor-with-attitude, she knew she was taking a chance. It would have been just like Cal to take one look at the setup and walk out of the restaurant. He hadn’t. In fact, he’d shocked both Glen and Ellie when they discovered that he’d agreed to give Jane horseback-riding lessons.

They were married within six months and Cal was happier than she could ever recall seeing him. He hardly seemed like the same person.

“I have a feeling I could win this year,” Cal said.

“He’s been claiming that every year since he first entered,” Glen muttered just loudly enough for everyone to hear.

“I’m gonna win,” Cal insisted, defying his brother to challenge him.

“This is a man thing,” Ellie explained to her sister-in-law. “Glen competes in the calf-roping event.”

“I have the blue ribbons to prove it.”

Cal winced at the small dig. “Ouch, little brother.”

“Calf roping I can tolerate, but watching Cal on those huge bulls is something else again.” Jane looked at her husband, and Ellie saw a spark of genuine fear in her friend’s eyes. She had to admit she was grateful Glen wouldn’t be competing on the bulls.

“I’ve done everything I know to talk him out of this,” Jane confided as the two women made their way to the grandstand and found seats in the second row. Both men were by the chutes, chatting with their friends and making small talk with the professional rodeo riders.

Jane clenched her hands in her lap.

“It’ll be fine,” Ellie assured her. “Cal’s no fool.”

“How can you say that?” Jane said, biting her lip. “Only a fool would risk his neck riding an ill-tempered beast who weighs as much as the state of Texas.”

Ellie laughed.

“If…if Cal happened to get hurt, I don’t know if I’d be able to treat him.”

“You love him that much?” Ellie asked.

“Yes, but that’s not the reason. I don’t think I could stop myself from clobbering him for worrying me like this.”

Ellie laughed outright, although she understood.

The grandstand quickly filled to capacity as the competition time neared.

“I heard a wild rumor,” Ellie said, hoping to distract Jane from her worries. “Someone told me Willie Nelson might make a surprise appearance at the dance later this evening.”

“You’re joking!”

She shook her head. “I don’t know if it’s true, but that’s what people are saying.”

“That would be wonderful. What brought it about?”

“I’ve heard he likes surprising people now and then.” She gave a slight shrug. “He knows this is Willie country and he’s never been able to come to our Fourth of July picnics. Maybe that’s why.”

“My parents went to hear him recently,” Jane said. “They said he isn’t going to replace the Beach Boys in their eyes, but the music was entertaining.”

“Give ’em time,” Ellie said.

The calf-roping event was one of the first on the program, and Ellie wasn’t surprised when Glen took first place. She loved the way he raced after the calf, roped him on the first try and maneuvered the animal onto its back. He made it all look so easy. But when he tied the animal’s legs, then tossed his hands in the air and leaped back, his eyes didn’t go to the time. Instead, they zeroed in on Ellie and he’d smiled that secret little smile meant for her alone. Only then did his gaze go to the clock.

When his time was announced, Ellie jumped to her feet and applauded loudly. Pursing her lips around her index finger and thumb, she released a piercing whistle. Jane stood with her and the two of them made several victory punches in the air.

“How long before Cal rides?” Jane asked after they sat back down.

“Pretty soon.”

Jane placed her hands between her knees and took several deep breaths. Ellie gently patted her shoulder. “Hey, it’s only eight seconds.”

“A bull like that could kill him in one.”

Ellie let the comment slide. “Cal knows what he’s doing.”

Jane nodded, but she looked pale. Ellie realized how difficult this was for her. Not having been raised around cattle ranches, Jane must view these competitions as barbaric. Ellie decided she hadn’t given her sister-in-law the credit she was due for marrying into this whole new way of life.

When the competition had begun and Cal’s name was announced, Jane bit her lip and closed her eyes. Cal sat high in the chute on the bull’s back, his concentration intense. The door opened, and man and beast plunged forward. The bull snorted, shaking his massive head, determined to dislodge his rider.

Jane leaped to her feet and covered her mouth with her hand. Ellie had just stood up, too, when Cal went flying off the bull’s back. There was a collective drawing in of breath as the crowd waited for him to jump out of the bull’s way. The clowns diverted the bull’s attention, but Cal remained on the ground.

“Dear God!” Jane cried. “He’s hurt. I knew it, I knew it.” She was already stumbling past everyone in the row, Ellie right behind her. “I swear if that fall didn’t kill him, I will.”

By the time they made it down to the steps, Cal had been carried off the grounds on a stretcher. Just as they reached him, they heard the final contestant’s name being called.

Glen, who was with his brother, took Ellie’s hand. Jane knelt beside her husband, tears in her eyes.

“It’s all right, honey,” Cal said, clutching his ribs. He gave her a smile but was clearly in pain.

“He’s had the wind knocked out of him,” Glen said.

Jane began to unfasten Cal’s shirt.

“Jane—not in front of all these people,” Cal said in a feeble attempt at humor.

“Be quiet,” she snapped.

“Best not to cross her in this frame of mind,” Cal said, then groaned when Jane lightly pressed her fingertips against a rib.

“I’ll need X rays, but my guess is you’ve broken a rib.”

“It won’t be the first.”

“But it’ll be the last one you’ll ever get riding bulls,” Jane said in a voice few would question.

“Whatever you say.”

“You might want to take this with you.” Max Jordan, a local business owner, hurried over to join them.

“Take what?” Glen asked.

Max grinned broadly and handed Cal a blue ribbon. “Congratulations, Cal! You stayed on longer than anyone.”

Despite the pain it must have cost him, Cal let out a loud triumphant cry.

TRAVIS HAD BEEN WRITING for years. He’d researched rodeos and even written about them—but this was the first one he’d actually attended. Jeremy and Emma had volunteered to be his guides, and he welcomed their company. Nell was busy adding the final touches to her chili; judging would take place later in the afternoon. The last time he’d seen Ruth, she’d introduced him to two friends, Edwina and Lily Moorhouse, sisters and retired schoolteachers. One of them had mentioned something about cloves—cloves?—a special cordial, and the next thing he knew, all three women had disappeared. Made no sense to him.

Now that the rodeo was over, Jeremy and Emma decided it was time to show Travis the booths. It seemed everyone in town had something on display. All new to Travis. The closest thing New York had to this was the farmers’ market, in which everything from rip-off brand-name running shoes and “real” French perfume to home-grown vegetables and spicy sausages was sold.

Travis and the kids wandered by the long tables where the chili was being cooked. “Hi, Mom,” Emma called.

At the sound of her daughter’s voice, Nell turned. She wore a pretty blue cotton dress with a white bib apron over it.

“I wondered where you two had wandered off,” she said.

“The kids are playing tour guide,” Travis explained. “They’re doing a good job of showing me the ropes.” He ruffled Jeremy’s hair, and the youngster grinned up at him.

“I hope they aren’t making a nuisance of themselves.”

“On the contrary.” They were likable kids, and seeing the rodeo and other festivities through their eyes had been a bonus.

“I’ll get my purse so you can buy your lunch,” Nell told her children.

“That’s all right, Mom,” Emma said. “Travis already fed us.”

Nell’s gaze briefly met his.

“We didn’t ask,” Jeremy added, apparently recognizing the look in his mother’s eyes.

“It was the least I could do,” Travis said, not understanding why she’d be disturbed about something so minor.

“My children and I pay our own way, Mr. Grant,” she said before he could say anything else.

“It was my pleasure, Nell—honestly. Without Jeremy and Emma, I would’ve been lost.” Both kids had taken delight in tutoring him in each of the rodeo events. They’d also shared tidbits about the community and its traditions, and the education he’d gained had been well worth the price of a couple of hamburgers and ice-cream bars.

“When are the judges going to be here?” Emma asked.

Nell glanced at her watch. “Not for another hour.”

“You’re gonna win,” Jeremy said with confidence.

“I’m crossing my fingers for you, Mom.” Emma held up both hands to show her.

“Good luck,” Travis tossed in.

“We’re headed for the carnival now,” Jeremy said. “I promise I won’t spend all my allowance.”

Nell nodded and glanced at Travis. “Listen, everyone, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you earlier. I guess I’m more nervous than I realized about this contest.”

“That’s all right, Mom.”

“No apology necessary,” Travis said, thinking it was unusual these days to find anyone willing to apologize. It was a sign of maturity and inner strength, and he admired her for it. In fact, there seemed to be quite a bit to admire about Nell Bishop….

“Have fun at the carnival,” she said, stirring her chili.

“We will.”

“If they don’t mind, I’ll tag along just for the fun of it,” Travis said to Nell. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been on a Ferris wheel—probably when he was younger than these two; and maybe he could convince Jeremy and Emma to go on it with him.

He’d never spent much time around kids, although his books were geared to them. Life was full of ironies such as this, he reflected. Valerie used to say he related to children because he’d never grown up himself, and he supposed it was true. She’d meant it as an insult, but Travis had considered it a compliment.

They had a wonderful afternoon on the midway, and he loved every minute. He let Jeremy and Emma spend part of their allowance, but he paid for most of the rides. They went on the octopus, a ride he remembered from his boyhood, and Emma covered her eyes, screamed the entire time, then insisted they do it again.

“Don’t spend all your money on us,” Emma said when he bought them each a huge cotton candy.

Travis was half-tempted to say there was plenty more where that came from, but decided it would be a crass comment. “Don’t worry…” he began.

“Be happy,” Jeremy completed for him.

“Right,” Travis said and chuckled. He enjoyed children, always had. That was one reason he’d chosen to write for the age group he did. His overwhelming success had surprised even him.

“In that case, could I have some popcorn, too?” Emma asked.

Laughter bubbled up inside him. Both of these children were forthright and honest, hardworking and appreciative—and they had a sense of humor. It would be unfair to compare them to children in New York, since he knew so few, but he was sure these two were special. As special as their mother.

“Have you met Dovie?” Emma asked a short while later between mouthfuls of popcorn.

Dovie—not dove. A name. “No, I haven’t.”

“You gotta meet Dovie,” Jeremy said, directing him away from the carnival rides.

They led him to a large booth set up close to the chili cook-off area. A friendly, slightly rotund, older woman stood in front of a colorful patchwork quilt.

“Hi, Dovie,” Jeremy said.

“Hi, Dovie,” Emma echoed.

“Hello, Dovie.” Travis figured he didn’t want to be left out.

Dovie looked at him and blinked, as if she was afraid she should’ve recognized him and hadn’t. Jeremy and Emma burst out laughing.

“This is Travis,” Emma said and reached for his hand. It was an innocent gesture, but it tugged at his heart.

“He’s staying at the ranch,” Jeremy added.

“From what I hear, I’m the first paying guest,” Travis explained.

“Pleased to meet you,” Dovie said, holding out her hand. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m wondering if I could interest you in a raffle ticket for this fine quilt.”

“Of course.” Travis reached for his wallet.

“The Dorcas Group at church is raffling it off to raise money for missions.”

“How much?”

“A dollar each, or six for five dollars.”

Travis pulled a ten from his wallet. “Give me twelve tickets.”

Dovie flashed him an appreciative smile.

“He’s a good guy,” Jeremy said proudly.

“I like him, too,” Emma added.

Travis tucked the ticket stubs securely into his hip pocket and wished Dovie luck with the quilt.

“Thank you. How long will you be in town?” she asked.

It’d been a common question all day. “I’m not sure yet.”

“I hope you enjoy yourself.”

Emma took his hand again. “You ready?” she asked. “For the chili judging?”

“Sure,” he returned.

“Is it time?” Jeremy asked.

Emma nodded.

A crowd had gathered around the chili cook-off area and the judges, five of them, stepped forward to do their taste tests. The samples were numbered so it was impossible to tell who had cooked which chili.

“That’s Ellie Patterson,” Jeremy whispered. “She owns the local feed store.” A pretty brunette sampled the first taste and nodded in approval.

“I hope that was Mom’s,” Emma said.

So did Travis. The taste she’d given him the day before was fabulous and nothing like any chili he’d tasted before. He’d accidentally discovered her secret ingredient was beer but had been sworn to secrecy.

In his short visit he’d learned quite a bit about Texas chili, which was different from anything he’d tasted in New York City or on his previous travels. In Texas the chili was thick with meat and spices and it wasn’t made with beans.

“That’s Mr. Jordan,” Jeremy said, identifying the next judge. “He owns the Western-wear shop.”

Someone called Billy D, owner of the local tavern, and Adam Braunfels, a restaurateur, tasted next.

The last one to try the chili samples was a large rancher type.

“Who’s that?” Travis asked.

“Pastor McMillen,” Jeremy whispered back.

That surprised Travis. The man looked like he’d be more comfortable on a horse than in a pulpit.

After all the judges had sampled the entries, they cast their votes. The crowd grew quiet with anticipation as the town sheriff, Frank Hennessey, stepped forward with the results of the voting.

Emma stood next to Travis with her eyes tightly shut, her hands raised and fingers crossed.

Sheriff Hennessey cleared his throat. “It was a difficult decision this year, but it appears that one entry stood out as the most flavorful. The voting is unanimous. The winner is—” the faint sound of a drumroll could be heard in the background “—number five.”

Travis frowned, not knowing who the winner was until he noticed Nell. She stood there as though in a daze.

“Nell Bishop,” Frank Hennessey shouted cheerfully as a stunned Nell moved slowly toward the microphone. “It gives me a great deal of pleasure to present you with this check in the amount of five hundred dollars.”

Nell might be in shock, but Travis noticed that she snapped out of her stupor fast enough when it came to reaching for the check. The crowd loved it.

Following the competition, spoonfuls of chili, dished up in small paper cups, were left for the crowd to taste. People surged toward the table that held the samples labeled “number five.”

“Yay, Mom!” Emma said, rushing forward and hugging her mother.

“This is really cool,” Jeremy said. He exchanged a high five with his mother.

Travis barely knew Nell Bishop, but he was as thrilled that she’d won the cook-off as if the success had been his own.

NELL WAS EXHAUSTED. Exhilarated but exhausted. Adam Braunfels, one of the judges and the owner of the Chili Pepper, the best restaurant in town, pulled her aside when the competition was over. He told Nell her chili was the best he’d ever tasted and that he’d like to talk with her later about the possibility of buying her recipe. He wanted to serve it in his restaurant. Nell could hardly believe her ears.

Following their conversation, Adam handed her a ticket for a free meal and suggested she stop off at his booth for dinner. Nell sat at one of the picnic tables at the far end of the rodeo grounds and savored a barbecued-beef sandwich and a heaping cup of coleslaw. It was the first time she’d eaten all day; she’d simply been too nervous before.

Jeremy and Emma were with their grandmother, who’d taken them home. The kids had chattered incessantly about Travis Grant. Apparently he’d shown them the time of their lives and they sang his praises to all who’d listen.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

Her thoughts seemed to have conjured up the man. Travis stood directly across the table from her, holding a cup of coffee.

“Please.” Nell gestured toward a chair, and Travis sat down.

“Congratulations again,” he said.

“Thank you.” She was dying to tell someone about her conversation with Adam Braunfels, but held her tongue. Nothing was definite, and she didn’t want to say anything until the details were settled.

“From what I understand, I owe you a debt of thanks,” Nell said. “The kids told me this was the best rodeo of their lives, and all because of you.”

“I was just about to thank you for sharing them with me. They’re terrific kids, Nell.”

“I think so, too.”

She pushed aside the rest of her dinner and reached for her coffee. After being on her feet all day, she was grateful to be sitting. “Ruth drove them home,” she said unnecessarily. She’d stayed to clean up the kitchen area and talk to Adam, but was so relaxed now she wasn’t sure she’d find the energy to move.

“I heard someone say Willie Nelson was coming for the dance later,” Travis mentioned.

“Don’t believe it.” Nell hated to be the one to disillusion him. “This is Willie Nelson country. We love him, and we send him an invitation to a picnic in his honor every single year.”

“He’s never come?”

“No, but then, we don’t really expect he will. He’s got bigger and better places to perform. We understand that and love him, anyway.” Whether or not Willie showed, the people of Promise would continue to enjoy his music. Willie Nelson represented everything they loved about country music.

“Tired?” Travis asked.

“A little.” An understatement if there ever was one.

“Too tired to dance?”

It took a moment to understand the question. Travis Grant was asking her to dance with him. She stared at him, unsure how to respond. It was kind of him, offering to be her partner. With anyone else she would have found an immediate excuse to decline. Not with Travis. For one crazy moment she actually considered it.

“Thank you, but no,” she finally said.

If she’d disappointed him, Travis didn’t let on.

Nell checked her watch, thinking it was time—past time really—to head home. The band, a popular local group, was playing in the background. The stage wasn’t in sight, but well within listening range.

“They sound good,” Travis said.

They did. Much better than Nell remembered, but then, it’d been more than three years since she’d stayed for the evening festivities.

All at once a crazed cheer rose from the audience and the announcer’s voice came over the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s a pleasure to introduce the good people of Promise, Texas, to Willie Nelson.”

Nell’s gaze flew to Travis. “This has got to be a joke,” she said.

But even before the words were out, the opening strains of “Whiskey River” echoed across the grounds.

Her fatigue gone, Nell leaped to her feet and hurried toward the dance area. So did everyone else within shouting distance. Travis was right behind her.

Nell and Travis never did get to see him. The crowd grew so thick they couldn’t do more than listen. Willie sang three numbers to wild applause, then suggested everyone dance. The music flowed, smooth and easy. People around her paired off, even though they weren’t anywhere near the dance floor.

Travis smiled down at her. “Shall we?” he asked, stretching out one hand.

Nell couldn’t stop looking at him long enough to decline. It wasn’t that Travis was a handsome man. His face was too angular, his features too rugged to be considered pleasing.

He took her lack of response as answer enough and slipped his arm around her waist. His hold was loose and gentle. A lifetime ago Nell had loved to dance. Jake had possessed two left feet, but he’d made an effort for her sake.

Travis danced as if he knew exactly what he was doing—and as if he enjoyed it. What surprised her was how well they moved together, how gracefully.

“Don’t look so shocked,” he said with a laugh. “Big men aren’t all klutzes.”

“The same applies to big women.”

“You’re not big,” he countered. “In fact, I’d say you’re just about perfect.” He brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead, and his fingertips lingered a moment longer than necessary.

Nell didn’t know what madness possessed her, but she closed her eyes and allowed herself to indulge in a fantasy. She didn’t pretend that the man holding her was her dead husband. That would have been too painful. Instead, she fantasized that she was a different kind of woman, willowy and lithe, petite and beautiful. Like the young Audrey Hepburn of Sabrina, a movie Nell had loved all her life.

It was the night for such dreams.

The dance ended almost as soon as it had begun. Too soon. Nevertheless, she didn’t dare to continue. Didn’t dare to indulge in any more fantasies.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I’ve never enjoyed a dance more.”

“Me, neither,” Travis said, his voice low and sounding vaguely unlike him.

Of one accord they turned and walked across the grounds, toward the parking area.

“Nell.” He stopped her in the shadow of the grandstand.

“Yes?”

“Don’t be angry.”

“Angry? Whatever for?”

“For this,” he whispered. He turned her around to face him, then lowered his mouth to hers.