Читать книгу McKettricks of Texas: Garrett - Linda Lael Miller - Страница 11

DAWN ARRIVED LONG BEFORE GARRETT was ready for it, and so did his brother. When he stumbled out the back door of the ranch house, after a brief shower, there was Tate, already waiting in front of the barn. He’d saddled old Stranger, their dad’s roan, for himself, and a black gelding named Dark Moon for Garrett.

After flashing Garrett a grin, Tate swung up onto Stranger’s back and took an easy hold on the reins.

“I’d kill for coffee,” Garrett said, hauling himself onto Dark Moon, shifting around to get comfortable. He’d forgotten how hard a saddle could be, especially when the rider was less than thirty minutes from a warm, soft bed.

“It won’t come to that,” Tate assured him, still grinning. “But I know the feeling.” He turned, pulled a medium-sized Thermos bottle from one of his saddlebags and tossed it to Garrett. “Made it myself.”

Garrett chuckled. “I might have some just the same,” he said, unscrewing the cup-lid and then the plug. He poured a swig and sipped. “Not bad,” he allowed. “You wouldn’t happen to have a plate of bacon and eggs in the other side of those saddlebags, would you?”

Tate chuckled and shook his head. “Sorry,” he said. “We’d best get moving. Most of the crew is already on the range, ready to work.”

Garrett resealed the coffee jug, rode close to hand it back to Tate, watched as his brother stowed it away again.

He hadn’t had nearly enough java to jump-start his brain, but he supposed for the time being it would have to do.

Tate led the way through a series of corral gates, and by then the darkness was shot through with the first flimsy rays of sunshine. They crossed the landscape side by side, their horses at a gallop, and Garrett was surprised at how good he felt. How … right.

“You heard anything from our little brother lately?” Tate asked, slowing the roan as they neared the temporary camp, where a small bonfire burned. Cowboys and horses milled all around, raising up dust, and the cattle bawled out there in the thinning gloom as if they were plain dying of sorrow.

“No,” Garrett answered. God knew, he had troubles of his own, but he worried about Austin. Their kid brother had taken his time growing up, and then he’d nearly been killed riding a bull at a rodeo over in New Mexico. Coming that close to death would have made some people a mite more cautious, but the effect on Austin had been just the opposite. He was wilder than ever.

Tate reined in a little more, and so did Garrett. “I figure if we don’t get some word of him soon, we’ll have to go out looking for the damn fool.”

Garrett nodded, stood in the stirrups to stretch his legs. He’d be sore for the next few days, he supposed, but riding wasn’t a thing a man forgot how to do. His muscles would take a little time to remember, that was all. “I’ll do some checking,” he said.

“I’d appreciate it,” Tate answered.

A couple of the cowboys hailed them from up ahead, and the din and the dirt clouds increased with every stride their horses took toward the herd.

“Garrett?”

Garrett turned to his brother. “Are you going to jaw at me all day, Tate?” he joked. Of the three McKettrick brothers, Tate was normally the one least likely to run off at the mouth.

Tate grinned. “No,” he said. “But I’ve got one more thing to say.” He paused, adjusted the angle of his hat, pulling the brim down low over his forehead. “It’s good to have you back.”

With that, Tate nudged Stranger’s flanks with his boot heels, and the horse bounded ahead, leaving Garrett to catch up.

And since Garrett was out of practice when it came to cowboying, he was pretty much catching up all morning long.

WITH A FEW MINUTES TO GO before she had to be at school, Julie followed an impulse and drove by the cottage she’d been renting since her return to Blue River, when Calvin was just a baby. The exterminator’s giant tent still billowed around it like a big, putty-colored blob.

Watching the thing undulate from within, Julie didn’t immediately notice Suzanne Hillbrand, of Hillbrand Real Estate. Her Mercedes was parked nearby.

Wearing high heels, a pencil skirt and very big hair, Suzanne was examining the spiffy new For Sale sign out by the curb.

The shock of seeing that sign struck Julie like a slap across the face. She cranked the Caddie into Park and got out, slamming the door hard behind her.

“Well,” Suzanne trilled, beaming, “hello, Julie Remington!”

Suzanne’s outgoing personality wasn’t an affectation designed to sell properties; she’d always been that way. Even in kindergarten. The big hair only went back as far as high school, though.

“Hello, Suzanne,” Julie responded, not smiling. She indicated the sign with a motion of one hand. “Are you sure this isn’t a mistake?”

“Why, of course I’m sure, darlin’!” Suzanne replied, with exhausting ebullience, shading her perfectly made-up eyes with one perfectly manicured hand. “It isn’t as if there’s a real estate boom on here in Blue River, after all. I’ve got this cottage and the old Arnette farm on the books, and that’s it.”

The flash of adrenaline-fueled annoyance that had propelled Julie from behind the wheel of her Cadillac dissipated in an instant. She bit down on her lower lip.

“I take it Louise didn’t tell you she was putting the place on the market?” Suzanne asked quietly.

“She might have tried,” Julie admitted, picturing her very efficient and quite elderly landlady. “I’m not sure she has my cell number, and I keep forgetting to check my voice mail.”

Suzanne’s smile came back full force. “We all know you and Libby and Paige came into some money a while back,” she said. “Things like that get around, of course. Well, here’s the perfect investment for you. Your very own cottage. Think how easy it would be. You wouldn’t even have to pack up and move!”

In spite of herself, Julie smiled. She’d always liked Suzanne, and the woman’s enthusiasm was catching. Plus, she’d often dreamed of buying the cottage—back when she didn’t have the means, especially.

“What’s the asking price?”

Suzanne named a figure that would nearly wipe out Julie’s considerable nest egg.

So much for enthusiasm.

“No way,” Julie said, backing up a step.

Suzanne stayed happy. “Louise is firm on the price,” she said. “I told her she wouldn’t get that much, considering the state the market’s in right now, but she’s not about to budge. The place is paid for, and she doesn’t need the money. All that works in your favor, of course, because you’ll probably have all kinds of time before it actually sells—to find somewhere else to live, I mean.”

All kinds of time to find somewhere else to live.

Oh, right.

There weren’t a lot of housing options in towns the size of Blue River.

Let’s see. She could move in with Paige, who was in the process of renovating the small house they’d all grown up in, rent by the week at the seedy Amble On Inn on the edge of town, or make an offer on the Arnette farm, which was almost as much of an eyesore as the Wilkes’s junkyard.

A fixer-upper, Suzanne would call it.

In Julie’s opinion, the only hope of making that old dump look better was a bulldozer.

For the time being, she’d have to stay on at the Silver Spur.

Darn.

Remembering the time, Julie checked her watch and turned to head back to her car. Calvin was in another mood, and she’d had to cajole him into getting out of bed, eating his breakfast, finding his backpack.

By the time she’d dropped him off at Libby’s, so he could ride to school with the twins, Julie had been working on a mood of her own.

“You think about making an offer, now!” Suzanne called after her.

Julie waved, got back into her car and headed for Blue River High.

Okay, so the day was definitely going in the downhill direction, she thought, as she pulled into the teachers’ lot and spotted a shiny blue SUV over in visitors’ parking. Things could still turn around, if she just looked on the bright side, counted her blessings.

She had a wonderful, healthy son.

She had a job she loved, even if it was a bummer sometimes.

And, yeah, someone might come along and buy the cottage right out from under her and Calvin, but given the economic slowdown, selling would probably take a while. In the meantime, she and her little boy had a roof over their heads, and for the first time in Julie’s life, thanks to a fluke, she had money in the bank.

A person didn’t have to look far to see that a lot of other people weren’t so fortunate. The Strivens family, for instance.

Julie parked the Cadillac, grabbed her tote bag and her lunch, and got out.

While she was locking up, she saw the driver’s-side door of the strange blue SUV swing open.

Gordon Pruett got out.

She barely recognized him, with his short haircut, chinos and polo shirt. A commercial fisherman by trade, Calvin’s father had always been a raggedy-jeans-and-muscle-shirt kind of guy.

Julie’s stomach seemed to take a bungee jump as she watched the man she’d once loved—or believed she loved—strolling toward her as though they both had all the time in the world.

Like Calvin’s, Gordon’s eyes were a piercing ice-blue, and both father and son had light blond hair that paled to near silver in bright sunshine.

“Hello, Julie,” Gordon said. He was tanned, and a diamond stud sparkled in the lobe of his right ear, making him look something like a pirate.

“Gordon,” Julie managed, aware that she hadn’t moved since spotting him moments before. “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you call?”

“I did call,” Gordon answered mildly, keeping his distance, squinting a little in the dazzle of a fall morning. “I’ve e-mailed, too. Multiple times, in fact. You’ve been putting me off for a couple of months now, Jules, so I figured we’d better talk in person.”

Julie sighed. Her throat felt dry and raw, and her knees were wobbly, insubstantial. “Calvin isn’t ready to see you,” she said.

“If that’s true,” Gordon responded, “I’m more than willing to wait until he is ready. But are you sure our son is the reluctant one, Julie? Or is it you?”

Tears of frustration and worry burned in her eyes. She blinked them away, at the same time squaring her shoulders and stiffening her spine. “Calvin is barely five years old,” she replied, “and you’re a stranger to him.”

“I’m his father.”

Julie closed her eyes for a moment, drew a deep, deep breath, and released it slowly. “Yes,” she said. “You’re his father—biologically. But you didn’t want to be part of Calvin’s life or mine, remember? You said you weren’t ready.”

Gordon might have flinched; his reaction was so well-controlled as to be nearly invisible. Still, there had been a reaction. “I regret that,” he said. “But I’ve taken care of Calvin, haven’t I? Kept up the child support payments? Let you raise him the way you wanted to?”

Julie’s throat thickened. She swallowed. Gordon wasn’t a monster, she reminded herself silently. Just a flesh-and-blood man, with plenty of good qualities and plenty of faults.

“I have classes to teach,” she said at last.

“Buy you lunch?”

The first-period bell rang.

Julie said nothing; she was torn.

“I could meet you somewhere, or pick up some food and bring it here,” Gordon offered.

Already hurrying away, Julie finally nodded her agreement. “The Silver Dollar Saloon makes a decent sandwich,” she called back. “It’s on Main Street. I’ll meet you there at eleven-thirty.”

Gordon smiled for the first time since the encounter had begun, nodded his head and returned to the SUV.

Julie normally threw herself into her English classes, losing all track of time, but that day she simply couldn’t concentrate. When lunchtime came, she grabbed her purse and fled to the parking lot, drove as fast as the speed limit allowed to the Silver Dollar.

Gordon’s SUV was parked in the gravel out front; she pulled the battered Caddie up beside his vehicle, shaking her head as she looked over at his ride. Although he’d made a good living as a fisherman, Gordon had never cared much about money, not when she knew him, anyway. Instead of working another job during the off-season and saving up to buy a bigger boat, or a starter house, or—say—an engagement ring, as some of his friends would have done, Gordon had partied through every nickel he earned. By the time he went back to sea, he was not only broke, but in debt to his father and several uncles besides.

The SUV looked fairly new.

His clothes, while nothing fancy, were good.

Obviously, Gordon had grown up—at least a little—since the last time Julie had seen him.

Now, reflecting on these things, she steeled herself as she walked up to the door of the Silver Dollar, started a little when it opened before she got hold of the handle.

Gordon stood just over the threshold, in the sawdust and peanut shells that covered the floor, acting for all the world like a gentleman.

Maybe he truly had changed. For Calvin’s sake, she hoped so.

She swept past him, waited for her eyes to adjust to the change of light.

The click of pool balls, the steady twang from the jukebox, the aroma of hot grease wafting from the grill—it was all familiar.

The Silver Dollar was doing a brisk business for a weekday, and folks nodded at Julie in greeting as she let Gordon steer her toward the back, where he’d scored one of the booths.

He waited until she was seated before sliding into the seat across from hers.

“You’re as beautiful as ever,” he said. “It’s good to see you again, Julie.”

The waitress appeared, handed Julie a menu. “The special is a grilled chicken sandwich, extra for cheese.”

“I’ll have that, please,” Julie said. “Without the cheese. Unsweetened iced tea, too, with lemon.”

Gordon asked for a double-deluxe cheeseburger with curly fries and a side of coleslaw, plus a cola.

“Fishing must be hungry business these days,” Julie commented, to get the conversation going.

“I’m not fishing anymore,” Gordon answered. “I’m in construction.”

“I see,” Julie said, though of course she didn’t, not really.

“How is Calvin?” Gordon asked.

“Except for his asthma, and he hasn’t had any problems with that for a while, he’s healthy and happy. He has a dog, a beagle named Harry, and he’s been learning to ride horseback out on the Silver Spur.”

“I can’t believe he’s in kindergarten,” Gordon said.

Their drinks came, and neither of them spoke until the waitress had gone.

“Believe it,” Julie said. “Calvin can already read and do simple math, and he would have skipped kindergarten and gone directly into first grade if I hadn’t refused to let him do that.”

Gordon watched her pensively, stirring his tall, icy cola with his straw. “I’m not here to make trouble, Julie,” he said.

“I didn’t say you were,” Julie pointed out.

He grinned. “No,” he agreed, “you didn’t. But you’re not happy to see me, are you?”

“No,” Julie admitted glumly.

Gordon chuckled at that. “Okay,” he said. “That’s fair. I appreciate the honesty.”

The food came, and Gordon took the time to salt and pepper his burger, line up the little wells of ketchup for dunking fries.

Julie cut her sandwich in half to make it more manageable and surprised herself by eating a few bites.

“I think I told you about Dixie,” Gordon began. “My wife?”

“You told me,” Julie said. “Are you still living in Louisiana?”

Gordon shook his head. “Dallas,” he said. “That’s Dixie’s hometown. Lots of construction going on, so I’ve been working steady.”

“That’s good,” Julie said carefully.

She had lived with this man.

Made love with him, borne his child.

Even back then, in the throes of passion, she’d known so little about Gordon Pruett. Never met his parents and very few of his friends. She wondered, then and now, if he’d been trying to keep her a secret for some reason.

“Dixie’s dad owns the construction company,” Gordon explained, with no trace of apology or defensiveness. “We have a nice home in a good neighborhood and—”

“You can’t have Calvin,” Julie broke in, frightened again. Still. “I’m all he knows, and I won’t just send him off to live with total strangers, Gordon.”

Gordon raised both hands in a bid for peace. “Julie,” he said, leaning toward her a little, his voice slow and earnest, “let’s be clear from the beginning. I have no intention—zero—of going after full custody, or even shared custody. I’ll continue to make the child-support payments. But I want to get to know Calvin, and have him get to know me.”

Julie eased up a little. Although her appetite was gone, she made herself eat a little more, so her blood sugar wouldn’t plunge in the middle of the afternoon.

“And how would you go about this? Getting acquainted with Calvin, I mean?”

Gordon smiled, and Julie was reassured by the kind twinkle in his eyes. “Very slowly and carefully at first,” he replied. “Maybe we’d just go out for pizza in the beginning, or play some miniature golf. Of course, you’d be included in any outings Dixie and I planned for Calvin—we wouldn’t expect you to be comfortable with any other kind of arrangement, at least in the beginning.”

Julie’s relief must have shown clearly in her face, because Gordon reached across the table, took her hand in a gentle grip and gave it a fleeting squeeze.

“Except for spending the night with one or the other of my sisters, Libby or Paige, Calvin’s never been away from home,” she said tentatively. “His asthma doesn’t flare up very often, but when it does and it’s bad, he’s terrified. Usually the inhaler works, but sometimes he needs a ventilator.”

Gordon’s Calvin-blue eyes were solemn. Looking across the table at this man, this familiar stranger, Julie slipped into a time warp for just a fraction of an instant and saw her little boy, all grown up.

“Dixie’s an RN,” he said. “She knows all about medical equipment and medicines and the like. And she loves kids. In fact, we’re expecting one of our own next April.”

Julie felt a too-familiar ache on Calvin’s behalf.

Gordon was excited about the baby he and Dixie were expecting. He was ready to be a father. Where had all this maturity been when Calvin was born?

On the other hand, shouldn’t she just be grateful that Gordon wanted a relationship with his son at all? As absentee fathers went, he was surely one of the better ones.

“How long will you be in town?” she asked, after taking a long sip of iced tea to wet her nerve-parched throat.

“We’ve got to be back in Dallas by the day after tomorrow,” Gordon answered. “I was hoping you and Calvin could have supper with Dixie and me tonight. The café at the Amble On Inn isn’t much, but they serve a decent meal.”

Julie would have liked a little more time to prepare Calvin for his first real meeting with his dad and stepmom, but since she’d sort of forced Gordon’s hand by dodging his calls and e-mails for more than a month, the opportunity was clearly lost.

Gordon had been patient, even kind, but he was nobody’s fool. If he and Julie couldn’t work out a visitation schedule they’d both be able to live with, he would almost certainly take things to the next level and hire an attorney.

“Okay,” Julie said, checking her watch again. Her lunch period was almost over, and after eleventh-grade English literature, she was meeting with Arthur Dulles and several school board members in his office. He was determined to make her set aside the three one-act plays she’d intended to showcase and put on a big, splashy musical instead, because those made more money. And he was rolling out the major cannons. “What time?”

“Let’s meet at the café at six, if that works for you,” Gordon said.

Julie nodded, pulling her wallet from her purse when the check arrived. Gordon picked it up and waved away her offer to at least pay the tip.

He stood.

She stood.

He said thank you.

She said he was welcome.

He walked her back to her car and waited until she was inside before turning to head for his SUV.

Julie immediately got out her cell phone headset and speed-dialed Paige. “Are you busy?” Julie asked, steering with one hand as she pulled out onto the main road.

Paige, a highly skilled surgical nurse, worked in a private clinic an hour from Blue River, and her schedule was a bugger. She put in four twelve-hour days every week, and spent most of the other three sleeping off her exhaustion and overseeing the changes she was making in the house.

“Me, busy?” she joked. “Let’s see. Just as I was getting off work last night, search and rescue airlifted an accident victim in from some farm in the next county. Kid chopped off his left arm trying to sculpt a bear out of an oak stump with a chainsaw—but we’re the best. Dr. Kerrigan sewed it right back on. I guess that constitutes ‘busy.’”

Julie felt slightly queasy. “Thanks for sharing,” she said. “If you don’t have time to talk, just say so.”

“I have time to listen,” Paige said. “What’s going on, Jules?”

“The cottage is up for sale,” Julie answered. “I’ve been renting that house from Louise Smithfield for five years, and she didn’t even bother to tell me she was putting it on the market.”

“So we change the renovation plans for the house,” Paige said easily. “We’ll make it a duplex. You and Calvin can live on one side, and I’ll live on the other.”

Julie parked the car, her palm damp where she was clasping the phone.

“But you didn’t call to tell me about the cottage, did you?” Paige prompted.

“It’s Gordon,” Julie said shakily. “He’s in town. He finally just … showed up. Calvin and I are having dinner with him and his wife. Tonight.”

“Julie?”

“What?”

“Take a breath. This is a good thing, sis.”

“So why do I feel terrified?”

“Because you’ve probably been going over worst-case scenarios ever since you got that first e-mail from Gordon.”

Ah, yes, the worst-case scenarios.

Julie knew them all.

Gordon snatches Calvin and whisks him off to Mexico or some other third-world country, and Julie never sees her child again.

Gordon has a secret addiction—alcohol, gambling, drugs—maybe all those and more. Calvin is not only in danger when he visits his father, he’s more prone to engage in said addictions himself.

Gordon is a perfectly good father, and Calvin loves him so much that he doesn’t want to live even part-time with his mom anymore.

And those were the cheerier ones.

“All right, I admit it,” Julie all but whimpered. “I’m scared to death.”

“I know,” Paige said, gentling down a little. “Listen, Jules, you’re the best mother in the universe,” she went on softly. “But be that as it may, Calvin still needs a father.”

Julie had reached the school by then, and she maneuvered into her parking spot. “You’re right.”

Paige laughed. “Of course I am.” A pause. “Did Libby mention our getting together, the three of us, on Saturday? She wants to start shopping for her wedding dress.”

The thought of Libby and her happiness made Julie feel better instantly. “We talked about it a little this morning, when I dropped Calvin off at her and Tate’s house.”

“Do you not think it just a little strange that they want to live there instead of the mansion?”

“It’s not strange, Paige. I’m sure the small house is cozier, better suited to family life. Anyway, you know Tate’s never been much for high living, and neither has Libby.”

“You’re staying in the main house,” Paige pressed. “What’s it like?”

“You’ve been in the ranch house, Paige. At least as far as Austin’s bedroom, not to put too fine a point on things.”

“Ha,” Paige said. “So funny. It was dark, we were young, and I wasn’t exactly thinking about architectural detail.”

“I don’t suppose you were,” Julie drawled back. “Gotta get back to work now. Thanks for listening.”

“Keep me in the loop,” Paige chimed in reply.

Goodbyes were said, and the call ended.

Julie dropped her phone into her tote bag and wove her way through a river of teenagers flowing along the hallway.

Their energy exhilarated Julie, made her smile. Parents and administrators could wear her down, but the kids themselves always energized her. Many nights, after a theater group rehearsal or a performance, she was high for hours, too excited to sleep.

The afternoon sped by.

The meeting with Arthur Dulles and two school board members went exactly as Julie had expected it to—the showcase was out, unless she wanted to stage the three one-act plays in addition to the musical.

That would be impossible, of course.

Which was exactly why she was going to do it.