Читать книгу The Prodigal Texan - Lynnette Kent - Страница 10

JUD SLEPT LATE the next morning and had to break the speed limit driving into town in order to reach the church steps as the steeple bell rang the beginning of the Sunday service. Once inside, he leaned back against the door for a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dimness of dark wood and stained glass. He felt too dressed up when he saw the open-collared shirts and slacks worn by most of the men—an interesting change from the days when every little boy put a noose around his neck for church on Sunday.

His suit and tie were not, he was quite sure, the reason several people gawked at him over their shoulders, then leaned toward their neighbors to pass the news. Before the whispering could drown out the music of the organ, he planted himself in the first empty seat he saw, as near to the back of the church as possible.

When he looked to his right, he found Miss Frances Haase, the town librarian, on the other end of the pew, staring down her nose at him as if he were a fifth grader who’d forgotten to return his library book. Jud sent her a smile and got a sniff and a frown for his effort. Facing forward again, he immediately recognized the slope of the shoulders, the set of the ears and the wave in the hair of the man in front of him. Ethan and his family were sitting in the very next row.

Jud didn’t doubt Ethan knew he was there. The tension across the two feet between them felt like an electric field, sure to scorch skin if he tried to reach through. Ethan’s wife, Kayla, glanced over her shoulder several times, once with an almost-smile. Three kids on her other side stole peeks at him throughout the service. The one little girl looked enough like Kayla to be her daughter, but Ethan hadn’t been married even a year, so Jud didn’t know where the other girl and the boy had sprung from. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get a chance to ask Ethan about them…or anything else.

Yet here he sat—on a hard wooden pew that provoked his leg and chest to throb in protest— betting his brother wouldn’t blow him off with the congregation watching.

The service did bring back memories from child-hood—those endless hours spent squirming between his mom’s disappointed frown and the vise of his dad’s grip on his shoulder. Holden Kelley, Noah’s dad, had led the church back then, preaching hellfire and brimstone sermons which had fallen on hard ground as far as Jud was concerned. But then, Father Kelley had always predicted a bad end for that oldest Ritter boy.

Noah, on the other hand, delivered an accessible, generous message on forgiveness and old-fashioned charity. Though surprised to see the groom in the pulpit on the morning after his wedding, Jud found himself chuckling at the young minister’s words.

Ethan sat stiff as a board through the entire message.

Standing for the final hymn, Jud knew he would get only seconds, at most, to connect with Ethan. What could he say that might compel his brother to listen?

Noah pronounced the final grace in everyday language, and the organ came to life. Jud reached out to tap Ethan’s shoulder, but a crisp voice from his right deflected his attention.

“Well, Jud Ritter, I heard you’d returned.”

He stifled a groan and turned to meet his fate. “Yes, ma’am. How are you, Miss Haase?”

“As well as could be expected. What have you been up to all this time?”

“I’m with the police department. Down inAustin.”

Lips pursed together, she nodded. “Yes, I’d heard you crossed over to the side of the angels. I clipped the article about your citation a few months ago. You appear to be good at your job.”

“I do my best.” He gave his most charming smile, aware that Ethan and his family had slipped out of their pew and were headed toward the chapel doors.

Miss Haase proved immune to his charm. “Nowadays, perhaps. But for twenty years, I’ve been expecting you to return the copy of Lady Chatterley’s Lover you borrowed in the seventh grade.”

Jud swallowed hard. “I—”

“If you don’t know where it is, I want a new copy on my desk by the end of the week. Now, excuse me.”

He stumbled out of the pew, but Miss Haase still stepped on his toes on her way out. Turning toward the back of the church, Jud saw that Ethan had reached the doorway where Noah and Greer stood to greet their flock. A double line of parishioners stood between Jud and his brother. By the time he got to the door, Ethan would be on his way home.

Fortunately, Jud had spent enough time playing hide-and-seek in the church hallways when he was supposed to be in Sunday school that he knew exactly the locations of the exits near the front of the building.

He rounded the outside corner of the church in time to see Ethan shaking hands with Noah at the door. Kayla gave Greer a hug, and kissed Noah on the cheek. Then, finally, they made their way down the steps to the sidewalk.

Jud came at them from the opposite direction. Unlike yesterday, Ethan didn’t see him in time to keep him at a distance.

“Good morning,” Jud said, with a smile at Kayla and the kids. “Amazing weather for December, isn’t it? I’m Jud—Ethan’s big brother.”

Kayla glanced at her husband’s stony expression. “More like May than December,” she agreed. “Um…I’m Kayla. This is Megan, my daughter.” She eased the little girl forward. “And Brad and Heather. Ethan and I…” She looked at her husband. “Ethan and I are adopting them.”

“I’m glad to meet you.” Jud nodded at the children. He was determined to keep his temper, but he could feel his face heating up as Ethan continued to stand there without saying a word. “I’m gonna guess y’all share Ethan’s love of horses.”

“I do,” Megan piped up. “I ride Birdsong all the time.”

A huge pit opened up in Jud’s belly. He looked at Ethan and found that his brother’s expression had changed from indifference to outright defiance.

Jud cleared his throat. “That’s…nice.” Inside him, the voice in the pit screamed, “You can’t have Angela’s horse!” But he didn’t let the noise escape. “Birdsong has always been a terrific pony.”

“We canter and trot over crossbars and everything.”

In the next instant, Brad and Heather chimed in to tell him about their horses. Jud tried to look interested, while Kayla wore a nervous frown and Ethan resumed the stone-faced stare.

“Let’s get into the truck,” Kayla said finally, putting her hands on the backs of the two girls. “Ethan will be along in just a minute. Good to meet you, Jud.” She nodded, cast a final glance at her husband and scurried off with the children.

Ethan watched them until they reached the vehicle, then turned back to Jud. “Okay, you engineered this encounter. Say what you came to say and then go back where you belong.”

“What I have to say will take a long time. I thought we could get together—”

“No. We don’t have anything to talk about that can’t be settled in a sentence or two.” Ethan turned away and took a step in the direction of his truck.

Jud clamped a hand on his brother’s shoulder and pulled him back around. “You’re wrong. We’ve got years of talking to do. Not just the last four, but a decade before that. Why don’t—”

“Why don’t you get the message?” Ethan raised his fist and knocked Jud’s arm away. “You walked out on this family, and couldn’t be bothered to come back when things went bad. You weren’t here to help us get back on our feet after the land deal failed. You weren’t here to watch Angela die. You weren’t the one who walked in to discover that Dad had blown his brains out. You couldn’t even be bothered to come to my wedding.”

He set his hands on his hips. “You’ve made it pretty damn clear that you want no part of us or this town.”

“I’m trying to tell you—”

“Don’t bother. I’m not listening.”

Ethan spun on his heel and stalked off toward his truck.

Only when he swerved to avoid a woman in his path did Jud realize they’d drawn a ring of spectators to their argument. Some faces he recognized, some he didn’t, but all of them wore an expression of unabashed curiosity that assured him everyone in town would know about the Ritter brothers’ confrontation before nightfall.

“Showdown at the Homestead town square,” he muttered, heading for his own vehicle. Thank God, they hadn’t actually been armed.

Because at this point, he wouldn’t put it past Brother Ethan to shoot him down in cold blood.

AS SOON AS ETHAN STOPPED the truck and turned off the engine, Megan, Brad and Heather tumbled out of the backseat and raced for the house, desperate to change clothes and get back to play. Ethan, however, gripped the steering wheel tightly and stared straight ahead. His head still pounded with the fury that had overtaken him at church, and his stomach churned.

“Ethan?” Kayla put a soft hand on his arm. “Are you okay?”

He dragged in a deep breath. “Not really. What right does he have to accost me like that? He doesn’t make a phone call in ten years, and all at once we have to talk?” A bitter laugh escaped him. “Jud always did have an ego, I’ll say that for him.”

The house door slammed. Heather and Megan ran down the steps and across the lawn to the rope swings Ethan had hung in a couple of ancient pecan trees. Brad came out a minute later, leaving the door wide-open, and headed for the tree house Ethan had built on the opposite side of the house from the swings.

“He could have had a change of heart,” Kayla suggested. “It’s been known to happen.”

“Too little, too late.” Ethan dropped his hands to his thighs and let his head fall back against the headrest. “I don’t see how anything useful can come of rehashing the past.”

“What do you think he wants?”

“To say he’s sorry?” He shook his head. “No. Jud wouldn’t feel responsible for anything that’s happened. He wasn’t here, he can’t be blamed— even though everything fell apart almost the minute he disappeared.”

“Why did he leave?”

“Because he finally went too far. He got a girl pregnant and then refused to marry her.”

“Somebody in town?”

“Della Bowie. She’s not here anymore. Once Jud left, Della and her family moved away. Nobody’s heard a word from or about them since.” Looking back, Ethan pulled in a deep breath. “Mom and Dad were completely torn up over the whole thing—they felt they’d lost a grandchild. Then Angela and I started getting sick, and everything went to hell.” He pounded a fist on the steering wheel. “Nothing I did made a difference. I tried—”

Kayla closed her fingers gently over his, stopping the motion. “You know you’re not to blame for what happened. Not for Angela’s illness, or your parents’ despair. We’ve worked on this, Ethan. You were only fourteen—you did the best you possibly could.”

“Right. My dad was losing his shirt over a ranch deal, Angela and I were getting lead poisoning from Mexican candy, and meanwhile Brother Jud’s out conquering the rodeo circuit. How’s that for fair?”

Kayla tightened her grip on his fist.

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes until Ethan could finally let go of the anger. For the time being, anyway.

He lifted his hand to press a kiss on his wife’s knuckles. “I should’ve warned you about the emotional minefield you were walking into when you said you’d marry me. Second thoughts?”

“Nary a one.” She gave him her sweet smile. “I know a good thing when I see it. You’re stuck, Ethan Ritter. For better or worse.”

“Thank God,” he said, taking the kiss she offered, and a couple more, besides.

But he couldn’t help thinking, as he and Kayla walked arm in arm toward the house that, with Jud in town, worse might be a lot closer than they realized.

MIRANDA AND NAN SPENT most of Sunday in the barn, watching Flora and Kahlúa bond. Cruz walked over for a while when the vet came back to examine the foal, but Miranda deliberately avoided so much as a mention of Jud Ritter’s name. She’d be even happier to avoid thinking about him altogether. If wishes were horses…

Monday morning, she pulled her truck into the parking space marked Mayor of Homestead, Texas at 9:00 a.m., and climbed the courthouse steps with her usual enthusiasm. Dusty followed right on her heels.

“’Morning, Mayor.” Reba Howell, the town secretary and assistant to the mayor, set down her coffee mug as Miranda stepped into the Homestead Town Office. “I hear y’all have a new arrival at your place.”

“Yeah, we do.” Miranda grinned as she took the morning’s mail out of her box. “Kahlúa is just the most perfect little colt I’ve seen. I could hardly tear myself away from the barn to come to work.”

Reba followed her into the mayor’s private office. “Oh, you mean you have a new baby horse? That’s right, I noticed you and your mama weren’t in church yesterday.”

Miranda looked up from the mail. “What arrival are you talking about?”

“Jud Ritter, of course. I heard he’s staying out at your place. Too bad you missed it—he and Ethan got into a fight, right there on the church lawn after the service.”

With great effort, Miranda kept her tone casual. “A fistfight?”

“Well, no. But they were yelling at each other, and at one point it looked like Ethan shoved Jud, or vice versa—it was hard to tell.”

“Jud always was something of a troublemaker.” An understatement if she’d ever made one.

“I don’t know…I thought Ethan was the one who started the argument this time. I suppose he bears a grudge for Jud being gone all these years.” Reba sighed and shook her head. “But I tell you, I’ve never seen a handsomer pair of men. They looked real good, facing each other down outside the church yesterday morning.”

“And you’ll get to see at least one of them again today. Wade and Jud are supposed to show up at ten o’clock for a meeting.” Miranda sat down at her desk, pulled a folder full of papers out of the file stand in front of her and opened it. “Until then, I’ll be going over these Home Free applications.”

“Right.” Reba hesitated in the doorway. “Can you catch the phone for a couple of minutes? I need to…freshen up.” At one hundred pounds even and five feet two inches tall, with natural blond hair and a peaches-and-cream complexion, Reba spent a lot of her workday “freshening up.”

“Sure,” Miranda said, without looking. She pretended to focus until she heard the outer office door close. Then she put her elbows on the desk and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. In the corner, Dusty circled three times and then collapsed into her dog bed with a contented sigh.

Miranda was a long way from content. In the space of thirty-six hours, Jud Ritter had somehow managed to monopolize her life. He’d barged in on her friends’wedding reception and weaseled his way onto her property—well, her family’s property, anyway. He’d even become an important part of Kahlúa’s birth, which would link them forever in her thoughts.

As if she hadn’t spent the last four years trying to forget the man. She might have gotten over the seduction scene—he’d been so drunk that night, he probably would have kissed any old stray dog that jumped up in the truck bed with him.

But he’d made her feel dirty for surrendering. “I am not making the same mistake twice,” he’d said, comparing her to Della Bowie, the girl unofficially voted “Most Likely To” at Homestead High. Everybody knew Della was the easiest girl at school, and she’d reaped the rewards of her behavior—she’d left town pregnant, in disgrace. And though Della never said, everybody knew the father of her child was Jud Ritter. They’d dated all that spring, before graduation. Then Jud had gone….

“I’m back,” Reba called from the outer office. Just a minute later, she said, “Hey, Wade. How are you this morning? And who’s this with you? Jud Ritter, it’s about time you came back. We all wondered where you got to.”