Читать книгу A Little Texas - Liz Talley - Страница 11

ARRIVING IN OAK STAND, Texas, felt like being tossed into a game of pickup at a state prison. At the end of the day, someone would likely get shanked. The bucolic Texas countryside framed ten square miles of hypocrites and busybodies all wrapped up in a Norman Rockwell-style package with a gingham bow. Kate felt the prying eyes and raised eyebrows as she climbed from Jack Darby’s massive pickup.

Yep. The bitch was back.

She stretched, glad the two-hour ride from the Dallas airport was over. She’d been cooped up far too long and needed to move her legs.

“You sure you want to walk to Tucker House? I don’t mind dropping you by after I make this deposit,” her friend’s husband said, doffing his baseball cap and tucking it into his back pocket. Jack looked around as if he too felt the curiosity of the townsfolk. They’d parked in front of the Oak Stand Bank and Trust, the hometown bank with a friendly smile. Service you can bank on.

“I need the walk,” Kate said, refusing to remove her sunglasses. She didn’t need the protection from the graying sky—she needed it from the prying eyes.

Jack’s brow crinkled as he eyed her high-heeled boots. “You sure?”

“I started walking in these when I was five.”

“You had big feet, huh?” Jack chuckled.

“Yeah, that’s it. And all the kids called me Bozo,” Kate drawled, grabbing her purple Balenciaga handbag and slamming the truck door. “I know the way.”

Nellie’s husband threw her a salute much as Jeremy had earlier that day. Kate never minded a man saluting her. Even a smart-ass like Jack. The man lived to get under her skin, even though she knew he held a grudging affection for her. “See you back at the house, Katie.”

“Kate,” she said as she yanked the belt of her Burberry raincoat tighter and looked around.

Oak Stand looked about the same as it had the last time she’d visited except The Curlique Salon had gotten a new sign out front and the town square’s grass was faded yellow. That was pretty much it for change.

Tucker House wasn’t far. She could see the huge white structure across the square, right behind the statue of Rufus Tucker, founder of Oak Stand and great-great-grandfather to Nellie. She could cross through the park on the flagstone-paved path easily enough, but she decided to take the long way around to decompress a bit. Prepare herself. Everything had happened so quickly, she felt cut loose. Floating above herself.

It didn’t help that the plane ride seemed a misty memory. The Xanax she’d taken had calmed her too much. She could barely remember the journey. But she remembered Rick, the way he smelled, the way he felt next to her.

She looked down at her bare hand. She’d forgotten her gloves at home, but she hadn’t forgotten his touch. The way his thumb had stroked the skin on her wrist as the plane had climbed into the sky. Then once again as the plane prepared to land. Kate had had guys do lots of things to her hands—hold them, squeeze them, kiss them, suck her fingers—but she’d never had a man comfort them.

She tucked her hand into her coat pocket. She didn’t have time to think about Rick Mendez and the weird tingling his touch had awakened in her. She’d bought herself some time, but she needed a plan.

When Jack had pulled up to baggage claim at the airport and tossed Kate’s carry-on into the cab of his truck, she thought Rick might protest, but he held back, nodding to Jack as he passed him. Rick had told her Justus was expecting her, but she wanted to meet her biological father on her own terms. If this were some sort of a game Justus was playing, she needed home field advantage. Nellie, not Oak Stand, had always been that for her.

She approached the steps of Tucker House feeling as if she’d stepped back through time. As always, the porch was freshly painted and Margo met her at the door.

“Well, I do declare, Miss Katiebug Newman, as I live and die.”

“Hey, Margo. And it’s Kate, by the way.”

The diminutive woman grinned. “I know. Just like to ruffle your feathers is all.”

Kate rolled her eyes. Margo had worked for Nellie’s grandmother when Nellie was a child, cleaning house and ironing all those Peter Pan collars Nellie had had to wear. Margo had taken a break to help raise her own grandchild, but returned to Tucker House when Nellie had started the senior care center a few years ago. It was good to see Margo holding the door open again.

“Come on in. Nellie’s out back with Mae trying to dig up some bulb she wants to plant at her place.”

Kate stepped into the heat of Tucker House. The walk had made her plenty warm, and several older ladies and gentlemen peered unabashedly at her as she shrugged out of her coat and hung it on a peg by the beveled glass door.

“You’re Myrtle Newman’s granddaughter,” a spry silver-headed lady said, rising from the couch. The woman wore lavender yoga pants and a sweatshirt that said Hot Yoga Mama.

Kate felt herself stiffen even as she smiled. “Yes.”

“Myrtle made a good pie,” the lady said, her eyes twinkling in a friendly manner. “I tried to make her chocolate pie one year. Just wasn’t the same. I’m Ester.”

“Oh, yes, Ester. You taught Sunday school.” Kate tried to smile, but it felt stuck. Something about Oak Stand made her feel claustrophobic. As though she was knotted up and couldn’t move or breathe.

“Yep. Taught it for twenty-eight years before I got too tired to deal with kids kicking my shins. But you never kicked me, Katie.”

“Kate.”

“Kate. Of course,” Ester beamed at her.

Kate needed to get out of here. Other ladies were creeping closer. “Well, I need to find Nellie.”

Kate bolted before anyone could ask her anything else about her late grandmother, her past, her future or her dietary habits. She could never live in Oak Stand. Too many nosy people. Margo laughed at her as she scurried through the kitchen and out the back door.

Kate let the screen door bang against the house as she exited. Nellie dropped the shovel and turned. “Kate!”

“Finally, someone gets my name right,” Kate grumbled as she trotted down the stairs toward the only person who felt like family.

Nellie looked terrific. Her blond-streaked hair was in a lopsided ponytail and dirt smudged one cheek. She wore tight jeans tucked into polka-dotted rubber boots and a hooded sweatshirt that hung midthigh. A chubby baby in a pink knitted parka and matching cap clung to her knees. The smile Nellie gave her made the cloudy day seem brighter.

Kate gave her friend a hard hug before dropping to one knee. “Hi, Mae flower, it’s Auntie Kate.”

Mae blinked green eyes at Kate, then hid her face between Nellie’s knees.

Nellie patted her daughter’s head. “She’s going through a stage. She won’t look at people. No one. Not even Margo.”

Kate rose. “That’s okay. I’m not good with kids anyway.”

Nellie sighed and shook her head. “Kate, how would you know? You’re probably brilliant with kids. She loves the boots you sent her. Don’t you, Mae?”

They both looked down at the baby, who still clutched Nellie like a street peddler would clutch a shiny penny.

“Here’s the bucket you wanted,” a voice came from behind Kate. A voice with a soft Hispanic accent.

Kate spun around. “What the hell are you doing here? I told you I’d meet with Justus when I’m ready and not before.”

Rick shrugged, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I didn’t know you were here. I stopped by to talk to Nellie.”

Kate faced her friend. “You know this creep?”

“Kate!” Nellie said, scooping up Mae and taking the pail from Rick. “Rick’s not a creep. He’s a friend. And why are you meeting Justus Mitchell? What is all this about? You never come to Oak Stand.”

Kate opened her mouth then closed it. She turned to Rick. “What are you doing here?”

“He came about Phoenix.” Nellie said, dropping an absentminded kiss on her daughter’s forehead. Mae peeked out at Rick and gave him a drooling smile. Kate guessed Mae looked at good-looking, sneaky guys. Traitor.

She pulled her eyes from the baby. No matter what Rick said, he’d come to Tucker House because she was here. She’d irritated him when she’d turned the tables on him at the airport. He’d seemed to handle her leaving with Jack calmly, but she’d be willing to bet he didn’t like it one bit.

“Phoenix is a gang rehabilitation center,” he explained. “A place to help gang members make a break from the life and get an education and job training. The rehab center is right outside Oak Stand. Nellie’s on the foundation board and I’m the director.” Rick’s eyes met hers. They were powerful, those dark eyes. Full of mystery and determination. They were obsidian chips of intent. Strong intent. And they made her toes sweat.

“Oh,” Kate said.

Nellie looked confused. Kate felt something sink in her stomach. She hadn’t told Nellie about trying to blackmail Justus. She hadn’t told her friend much of anything except she was coming to town and needed a place to stay. Perhaps Rick had already told Nellie what Kate had done. Or what Justus wanted from her. But she didn’t think so. He didn’t seem the type to spread anyone’s business around town.

“How do you know Rick?” Nellie asked her. “And what’s this have to do with Justus?”

Rick smiled at Mae and chucked her on the chin. Kate averted her eyes and watched some small gray birds hop between barren branches before dive-bombing a bird feeder. She didn’t say anything. Finally, she met Nellie’s gaze and gave her the signal they’d developed when they’d been girls. Two blinks meant “later.”

“Okay,” Nellie said, shifting Mae to her other hip and dropping some strange-looking potato things in the bucket Rick had brought her. “Let me wash my hands and get those papers.”

Nellie shoved Mae into Kate’s arms and stalked up the stairs. The baby immediately began kicking and crying, and one of her little boots caught Kate in the upper thigh. This was her punishment for lying to Nellie.

Rick glanced at the squirming child. “Want me to take her?”

She set Mae down. “No, she can walk.”

Mae immediately dropped to the ground and wailed. Kate could have sworn it was on purpose, but surely fifteen-month-old babies couldn’t be so devious.

He bent down. “Mae, come see what I have in my pocket.”

“Bet you say that to all the girls,” Kate drawled.

He shot her a look before focusing on Mae. The baby sat up and studied him. Her cries stopped as abruptly as they’d started.

“Here,” Rick said, pulling a package from his pocket. Kate blinked. It was a package of crackers from the airplane.

“Crackers? I hope that’s not what you actually give all the girls.”

Mae reached out a grubby little hand and grunted.

“Babies love crackers,” Rick said, opening the package and handing one to Mae. Sure enough, the baby took it and crammed it in her mouth. “And if I have something in my pocket for you, it won’t be crackers.”

She frowned at the double entendre, but she had started it.

Kate stooped so she could see the baby’s mouth. She didn’t know how to do the Heimlich maneuver on an infant. “Does she even have teeth?”

“Yeah, she has teeth. Not all of them but enough to gum a cracker.” He lifted the baby and gave her the sweetest of smiles.

Something plinked in Kate’s chest. She wasn’t sure what it was because she’d never felt anything like it before.

Nellie returned holding an envelope. She shoved it toward Rick and gathered Mae in her arms. “Everything is signed and notarized. I’ll come by Phoenix sometime soon. I can’t wait to see the guys there. You’ve worked so hard, Rick. It’s going to be fantastic.”

“Let’s hope so.” Rick tucked the missive under his arm before turning to Kate. “I’ll pick you up at Nellie’s at 9:00 tomorrow morning. Justus will expect you before lunch. Bye, ladies.”

He headed around the corner of the house.

Nellie shook her head. “What the hell is going on, Kate?”

Rick turned before she could bustle Nellie up the stairs. His eyes flashed something almost naughty, but he didn’t say a word. Just nodded and then he was gone.

Kate closed her eyes and blurted, “Oh, nothing. I just have to go meet dear old dad about a blackmailing scheme.”

Her friend didn’t say a thing, so Kate cracked one eye open. Poor Nellie looked like she’d swallowed a bug. Her mouth opened then closed. Finally, she managed to choke out, “What?”

“What can I say except what you already know? I’m a bastard child.” Kate shrugged, trying to pretend she blackmailed reluctant biological fathers every day.

“You’re admitting Justus Mitchell is your father?” Nellie asked, shaking her head.

“Shh!” Kate clamped a hand over her friend’s mouth. Mae contemplated her with blank green eyes. Gooey cracker mush dripped from her mouth and landed on Kate’s arm. “Don’t.”

Nellie pulled Kate’s hand from her mouth. “Holy shit!”

Kate looked at Mae. “She didn’t mean that, Mae flower. She meant holy shuckins.”

Nellie swiped at the baby’s chin while Kate scraped off the mess. She was glad she hadn’t worn her Burberry outside.

“Would you be serious about this?” Nellie huffed.

“I am.”

Mae squirmed in her mother’s arms. Nellie set her down and studied Kate. “Kate, how is this… I mean, why haven’t you ever said anything? And blackmail? I don’t understand.”

“Look, I’ll tell you about it when we get to the ranch. Now’s not the time.”

“Kate—”

“Please. Let it ride, Nell.” She stalked up the steps without looking at her friend again. She’d tell Nellie that night. After dinner. After Mae had toddled off to bed. After Jack had dozed off in the recliner. But not now. Not when her nerves felt shredded and her stomach felt like it harbored rocks. Really heavy rocks.

She’d screwed up when she’d devised this plan.

She should have let the salon go. It was just a business. People lost businesses every day. She could start over, get a job in L.A. She’d done it before.

But it was too late. What she’d put in motion had to be ridden out. She’d poked the devil with a stick, and messing with the devil was dangerous, especially when he had huge stockpiles of supplies and a sexy henchman who made her pulse flutter. And that was the scariest thing about facing the battle that would come in the morning. Something about the devil’s henchman made her want to sleep with the enemy. And that couldn’t be good.

War really was hell.

RICK PULLED HIS CAR INTO the drive of Cottonwood Ranch, Justus’s colossal spread. The drive leading up to the enormous white house was long and straight. No meandering for a man like Justus. Direct and to the point.

Rick knew Justus would be irate with him for not bringing Kate directly to the ranch, but he’d rather deal with Justus’s anger than deal with being thrown into prison for binding and gagging Kate Newman then shoving her into the backseat of his car.

The thought of controlling Kate appealed to him. He envisioned her under his power, and desire stirred inside him. That was seriously whacked, so he checked that feeling as he parked on the checkerboard grass-and-stone parking area.

Justus’s wife, Vera, dabbled in gardening and landscaping, so she’d designed this parking area declaring it more welcoming than concrete. Every time his foot crushed the low-growing thyme in between the pavers, a sweet aroma filled the air. Leave it to Vera to deliver an unexpected gift to the person parking outside her home.

“Rick,” Vera called out from the prayer garden she’d built behind the carriage-style garage. “Come see what I’ve found.”

Rick could no more ignore the hint of pleasure in Vera’s voice than he could turn out a hungry stray. Grains of happiness were few and far between for the woman Justus had brought to Cottonwood and made his bride over twenty years ago.

He rounded the corner and found her kneeling in a patch of withered canna lily stalks. He looked around at the garden they’d neglected during the holidays. “I guess I need to clear all this dead stuff away and put down another layer of mulch.”

Vera looked up at him, her hair falling over her shoulders, brown eyes crinkled with a haunting smile. “I know, but look what I found.”

He bent and pushed a hand through the matted pine straw. Small green stalks barely cleared the fertile loam. “Crocus?”

“Yes,” she breathed, passing a bare hand over the tiny new growth rising in the grayness. “Ryan planted them when he was a child. Some years they don’t come up. I don’t know why, but this year they’re making an appearance.”

“A sign of good fortune, I bet. Better cover them well,” he said, straightening and eyeing the low, dark clouds. “Those clouds carry rain and with temperatures dipping tonight, we might have a freeze.”

She carefully covered the plants then stood. She brushed her hands on her worn jeans and pulled her hair to the side. She looked much younger than her fifty years.

“Did you bring her back?”

Rick stiffened, dread uncoiling in his stomach. How did Vera know about Kate?

“He can’t keep secrets from me, Rick,” she said softly, tucking her hands into her back pockets and shivering. The wind had picked up and the jacket she wore afforded little protection against the air sweeping across the hilled pasture.

“Don’t get involved in this, Vera.”

She shrugged. “I know my husband. Knew what kind of man he was before I married him. A secret love child comes as no surprise to me.”

Love child? Rick didn’t think the term could be applied to Kate. Not the way Justus had talked about her mother. Rick didn’t sense any tenderness where Susie Newman was concerned. She’d been just another woman who’d thought she could catch the mighty Justus Mitchell and failed.

Rick studied the woman who hadn’t. Her face bore the tale of losing her only child and surviving her husband’s declining health, yet, she was lovely. Touched by time and misfortune, Vera still held traces of that Alabama Southern belle she’d been. She was a woman who could serve up coffee and pound cake with the hands she’d just used to transplant a hydrangea or nurse a sick child. She’d been Rick’s only friend for a while…aside from the gangly boy who’d dogged his heels when he’d first come to live at Cottonwood.

“You’ve talked to him about this girl?” he asked as he walked toward the rear of the house.

She followed, tossing her gardening gloves onto a bench outside the mudroom. “Not exactly, no. But I always know what’s going on, Rick.”

“So you’re just pretending not to?”

Vera smiled. “Of course. Justus will tell me when he’s ready. He thinks I’m weak. That I have to be protected.”

For good reason. Vera had been hovering on the edge of severe depression since Ryan’s passing. Few things brought her joy.

They entered the kitchen where Rick’s grandmother Rosa ruled. Rosa had been with Justus for over forty years. She ran Cottonwood, and she was the reason for every good thing in Rick’s life.

“Hola,” Rosa said, her accent still thick despite the years she’d spent in the United States. His grandmother stood at the stove stirring something in a pot. It seemed he could always find her there. The kitchen smelled like barbecue and made his stomach growl. “Mr. Justus said to go to his office. He just called down, upset you weren’t here.”

Rick shrugged. “He’s going to get even more upset. Put antacid next to his plate tonight, abuela.”

Vera disappeared before he could say goodbye.

Leaving Rick to tell Justus that Kate played by her own rules.