Morgan

by Chris Keniston

  Eileen nodded and grabbed her own plate. “I’m surprised, as spooked as the sisters were earlier this year about the brothel being haunted, that they didn’t say something to me about this.”

  “They were pretty upset about that screaming woman, but they didn’t say anything about moving furniture and seasoning switches.” Valerie did not need rumors of the place being haunted getting around or this whole project could blow up in her face. No, she did not need that at all.

  The low murmur of chatter in the small saloon gave way to the melodic sounds of live music coming from outside. Folks had been eating and chatting and moving about from table to table in the old saloon while Ned played the old piano. Who knew the old coot could tickle the ivories with the same skill as he wielded a socket wrench. Several of the Farradays—including Morgan—and the Bradys had come together while folks were eating to set up the wooden platform out in the street.

  The last hour or so Morgan had sat with his family but kept an eye on Valerie. He’d done a lot of that the last few days. For a big city girl, she had more country in her than he would have expected.

  “Looks like the party is moving outside.” Aunt Eileen pushed away from the table. She and the other Farraday wives had gotten together and dressed for the evening in long skirts and pinned up hair in homage to the days when the old town was still thriving. Not exactly period pieces but a festive touch.

  Joanna Farraday stood and pushed her seat up to the table. “We should do this more often. It’s kind of fun to dress up.”

  “I know.” Hannah patted at the bun atop her head. “I may start wearing skirts more often. They’re way more comfortable than I expected.”

  “Until you have to go to the bathroom.” Catherine pushed in her chair and picked up her drink. “Pulling down jeans is much easier than gathering up layers of a long skirt.”

  “Okay, ladies. TMI.” Morgan was pretty easy going, but some subjects were better ignored.

  “Agreed.” Connor kissed his wife’s temple and extended his arm to her. “Shall we?”

  “Why, I’d be delighted.” Batting her lashes at her husband, Catherine’s pitch was a tad higher and sweeter than usual.

  Following his family outside, Morgan casually glanced about, searching for Valerie. Between her crew and all the folks from town eager to visit with her, she’d been kept busy all through dinner. He wasn’t even sure if she’d gotten a chance to sit down and eat.

  “Oh my.” Aunt Eileen slowed her steps. “I do believe everybody outdid themselves. If I didn’t know better, I swear I was standing in the 1800s on a Saturday night.”

  Checkered tablecloths covered a line of tables heavy with desserts. One looked more delicious than the next. Strands of overhead lights hung from building to building over the large wooden dance area center of the street. To one side, an elevated platform held the small band already playing a rhythmic tune. The fiddler in the forefront had bystanders gathered, tapping their toes.

  “Shall we?” Sean Faraday bowed at the waist and extended his hand to his wife.

  Morgan made another quick scan of the area as the dance floor grew more crowded. His efforts were rewarded when he spotted Valerie talking to the sisters by the punchbowl. Trying not to look like an overeager teen, he leisurely made his way up the street as quickly as possible. “So far the party looks like a booming success.”

  Both Sister and Sissy beamed at him, but Sissy was almost giddy with delight. “I am so glad Valerie talked us into participating in this. I do hope that we can bring this town back to life.”

  Sister bobbed her head. “There is something to be said for stepping back in time. This town could be a wonderful learning tool for children. It’s no Versailles, but I think it’s worth preserving.”

  “Most definitely,” Valerie agreed.

  “If you ladies would excuse us,” he turned to face Valerie, “may I have the honor of the first dance?”

  “Oh yes,” one sister squealed. “You two hurry off.” The two sisters were as different as night and day—one tall one short, one blonde one redhead, one always laughing the other a little more serious—but tonight both were clearly in seventh heaven.

  Delighted for a legitimate excuse to hold her hand, Morgan led Valerie onto the dance floor. “You look absolutely lovely this evening.”

  “Thank you. When some of the ladies mentioned dressing up for tonight in somewhat period costume, I have to admit, I got a little bit giddy. Dress-up was my favorite thing to play as a little girl. I loved watching old movies. Really old movies. The ones from the thirties, forties or fifties where women wore gorgeous gowns, fabulous hats, elegant hairdos, and shoes to die for.”

  That would certainly explain her strong fashion sense when she first came to town. Striking, and very attractive.

  “I suppose that make-believe world is what drew me into show business.”

  “Did you ever want to be an actor?”

  “Not really. I used to read a lot. I loved going to new places without leaving my room. Mom got me started watching old movies. She loved the musicals. We’d have oldies movie nights for us and action adventure with Dad. You might say I have very well-rounded taste. In the end, everything related to the big screen fascinated me, right down the lighting and the editing. I could praise or criticize a film better than the motion picture academy.”

  She said that with so much pride it made him chuckle.

  “By the time I got to college, I figured I might as well work in a field I loved. By graduation, I’d gone from the big screen to the small screen, and instead of creating new worlds somehow I wound up recreating reality.” The last few words came out almost bitterly before her face brightened. “Does it count that as a kid I wanted to be Ginger Rogers dancing with Fred Astaire?”

  “I don’t dance anywhere near as well as Fred, but Ginger can’t hold a candle to you.” He twirled her in place and pulled her into his embrace.

  “Thank you, and you dance very well.”

  “My mother convinced me at an early age that all the girls liked the boy who knew how to dance.”

  “Your mother sounds like a smart woman.”

  “Maybe not about everything, but she was certainly right about dancing.”

  Valerie chuckled. “In other words, you got all the girls.”

  “Not all.” He twirled her again. He paused another beat before adding, “But I was never left standing alone at a school dance.”

  “I bet you weren’t.” She remained quiet a long minute. “Who was she?”

  “She?”

  “The one who broke your heart.”

  “I didn’t say anyone broke my heart.”

  “You didn’t have to. Friendly, good looking, and smart man like you is still single. Only one possible explanation. The one who wouldn’t dance must have broken your heart.”

  He actually found himself smiling. And when did thinking of Carolyn come with a smile instead of the bitter taste of soured memories. “Her name was Carolyn. She taught me a valuable lesson.”

  “What was that?”

  “Sometimes giving one hundred percent isn’t enough. Some people always want more.”

  “Sounds like the wrong fit.”

  Too bad he hadn’t figured that out a whole lot sooner. Carolyn had been everything he’d thought he wanted. Beautiful, friendly and smart. Good to friends and family, she shared his values. At least he thought she did. What took him too long to see was the prestige that came with his family ranch and construction business was firmly rooted in Oklahoma country, and Carolyn’s dreams were firmly rooted in plans to move up to bigger and better places. Last he’d heard, she married a guy whose ranch had oil. They spent most of their time in Houston and the rest in those famous big cities she always talked about. “Let’s just say not every one is cut out to be half of a happy couple.”

  “Ouch. That sounds rather cynical.”

  “And safe.”

  “You didn’t strike me as the kind of man afraid to tak
e risks.”

  “There’s a difference between high risk and a suicide mission. There’s a lot to be said for playing it safe.” Though right now, playing with fire held a great deal of appeal, even at the risk of getting burned. Again.

  “I don’t know. Sometimes safe can be pretty boring.”

  “Since I doubt Hollywood is ever boring, would I be guessing correctly that’s the other reason you chose show business?”

  “Probably.”

  All the more reason to wonder why she was so hell bent on selling an idea that would keep her in boring West Texas. The first notes of a familiar country song began playing and the couples immediately began gliding along in a fast-moving circle.

  “Oh my.” Valerie stepped on his foot, glancing left and right at the uniformly moving crowd.

  His hand on her hip he guided her. “The Texas Two Step is a lot like walking, only quick quick then slow slow.”

  Once more she bumped into his foot before falling into the rhythm. “Oh, this is easy.”

  “Very. It’s why the dance is so popular.” Once they’d made a few turns around the floor with the growing crowd, he spun her about, pleased to see her fall easily back into step again. “There you go. You’ve got it.”

  “This is fun.”

  “Just like walking to music.”

  “I like that. Walking to music.” She added a little bounce to her step. “Like life—or relationships—sometimes it’s easy, sometimes you trip, but if you don’t give up, it can simply be fun.”

  “What happens now?”

  “I guess that depends on the next song.”

  “I mean now that the reel is done.”

  “I’ve already sent it off to editing in LA. That could take as long as a couple of weeks. Then we’ll pitch it and if all goes well, a pilot will be ordered, and then if all goes the way I think it will, we’ll be back again to film a series.”

  “How soon are you leaving?”

  The bounce in her steps slid away. “There’s no reason to stay really.”

  His jaw tightened and he nodded. Sometimes you trip, sometimes you fall, and sometimes there’s no point in getting back up.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I can’t believe you ladies are here playing cards bright and early after last night.” Donna, a longtime waitress at the cafe, poured more coffee into Eileen Farraday’s mug.

  “You were there too.” Ruth Ann tossed a chip into the pot. “I’m in.”

  Donna circled the table to refill Dorothy’s cup. “Yes, I was there, but I didn’t close the place down. Like Cinderella and her pumpkin, I was home in bed shortly after midnight. I heard you ladies were still cutting a rug into the wee hours of this morning.”

  Sally May set her cards down. “I’m out. And I’d hardly call two-thirty the wee hours.”

  “Absolutely.” Eileen folded her cards and tossed a chip in the pot. “Maybe four o’clock would be wee hours. In New York the bars close down at four in the morning, then we’d all head out for breakfast. But nobody can eat breakfast at 3 o’clock in the morning, so that’s just a very late night.”

  “Even Abbie didn’t come in this morning.” Smiling, Donna blew out a short sigh. “When I grow up I want to have a constitution like y’all.”

  “Atta girl.” Dorothy flipped a chip into the pot. “What the hey, I’ll call.”

  “Read ‘em and weep.” Ruth Ann laid down a royal flush.

  Dorothy shook her head. “With a hand like that you should have bet more.”

  “If I’d have bet more all of you would have folded.”

  “Maybe.” Eileen shrugged, then looked around. From the looks of things pretty much everyone else in town was sleeping in too. Nonetheless, leaning forward she lowered her voice. “I had a long chitchat with Gray before I got in the truck.”

  Ruth Ann stopped shuffling her cards. “You what?”

  “You heard me. I kept watching Valerie and Morgan most of the night.”

  “I know.” Dorothy smiled. “They do make a lovely couple.”

  Eileen waved a hand in the air. “What good is that if she’s on the West Coast and he’s here? From the conversation at breakfast this morning, it doesn’t sound like they’ve made any plans to talk to each other, never mind see each other, once she goes back to California.”

  Slipping the deck to her side for Sally May to cut, Ruth Ann huffed at her friend. “Did it occur to you that maybe he didn’t think their plans were any of your business?”

  “Nonsense. No reason to hide anything from me. Besides, I came right out and asked if he’d be talking to her again.”

  Dorothy frowned slightly. “And he said no?”

  “Isn’t that what I just said?” Eileen leaned back in her chair. “So getting into the truck, I called Gray over. Asked him outright was he positive that Morgan and Valerie were meant to be.”

  Sally May picked up her first card and glanced sideways at Eileen. “What did he say?”

  “Would you listen to yourselves.” Ruth Ann continued dealing. “Our dog doesn’t talk.”

  “Maybe not in words like you and me, but trust me, that dog communicates when he wants to.” Sally May picked up another card.

  “She’s right.” Eileen placed her hand on the back of her cards.

  “So what did he say?”

  “He tipped his head one way as I talked, looked off to the horizon, and as sure as I am that my name is Eileen Farraday, that dog sat back on his haunches, lifted his head, gave a single bark, then bouncing up and wagging his tail, licked my hand before running off with the men to work the cattle.”

  “Maybe he was just saying good morning,” Dorothy suggested.

  “Or maybe,” Sally May waved a thumb at her longtime friend, “the dog knows something we don’t.”

  “Won’t be the first time.” Dorothy picked up her cards.

  So far those dogs were ten for ten with the Farraday offspring. Even the most unlikely of matches. Eileen didn’t have a clue how this was going to work out but she had faith in Gray and his cohort.

  “Good morning,” Ruth Ann announced a little more loudly than necessary, unless…

  Eileen craned her neck and spotted Valerie coming to a stop beside her. “Joining us for a game?”

  “Meg said that an invite to join the poker game was a rare thing not to be missed. Besides, I never was any good at sleeping in after the sun is up.”

  “Sounds like you’d have made a good rancher.” Eileen scooted her chair over. “Most of them are up long before the sun anyhow.”

  Sally May kicked Eileen under the table and skewered her with a keep your mouth shut glare.

  “I can’t imagine being a rancher.” Val settled into the seat between Eileen and Sally May.

  “You can’t?” Dorothy looked almost forlorn. Which made no sense since Morgan wasn’t a rancher. All the Farradays came from ranching stock, but the next generation in Oklahoma had simply found branching out into construction more lucrative.

  “There are so many things that are just about West Texas.” Valerie paused while Ruth Ann dealt her into the game. “I freely admit I love these jeans and cowboy boots, but I don’t understand how nobody misses shopping centers, movie theaters, live performances, and fine dining. Not that I get to do most of those very often, but at least having the option once in a while is nice.”

  “Well, there is Butler Springs,” Dorothy suggested even though everyone at the table knew that didn’t come close to the kind of entertainment and shopping Valerie meant.

  Holding her cards against her chest, Valerie shivered momentarily. “Then there are the snakes. They’re ugly, scary, and from what I understand, everywhere, not just out at the ghost town.”

  “She does have a point. It is West Texas.” Donna appeared beside Valerie with a pitcher of tea. If she’d been any closer Eileen would’ve kicked her.

  “I suppose the California girl in me might be overreacting to the guns, and the cows, and the horses and how everyone seems
to know how to handle all three of those before kindergarten. Well, maybe not the gun part, but I saw all of Stacey’s ribbons from the rodeo. No,” she shook her head, “I’d have made a lousy rancher. I’m a So-Cal girl through and through.”

  There wasn’t much Eileen could do about the shopping, the theater, the horses, and the cows, but there was one thing she might be able to fix. “When will your work be taking you back to California?”

  “There’s really no reason to stay. I should be heading back some time tomorrow.”

  Tomorrow. With a little help, that would give her just enough time. Who said West Texas couldn’t do fine dining?

  “Thank you. I’ll shoot you an email later today.” Morgan disconnected the call and closed the cover on the key lock box. This morning he’d woken up feeling unsettled. Out of sorts. He knew the reason why, but he refused to admit it to himself. He and Valerie had danced most of the night. She’d fallen in love with the two step and took every opportunity to participate any time a suitable tune came on. He, on the other hand, had taken it upon himself to make sure all those opportunities had been with him. When he got home, he really did need to thank his mother for insisting on all those dance lessons.

  He didn’t know what time tomorrow Valerie was leaving town, but he knew he wanted to see her again before she left. Too bad the pub was closed on Monday nights; he would relish another chance to have at least one more dance with her.

  On the sidewalk of the same street as Adam and Meg’s home, he turned up the block to their house, surprised and delighted to see Valerie coming down the front steps. “Hello.”

  “Well, this is a nice surprise.” The genuine delight on her face made him stand a little straighter.

  “I was just coming to see you.”

  “That’s a coincidence. Toni mentioned you were having lunch at the café.”

  “Just finished not long ago. Had some business to take care of in town.” About to toe at the dirt along the sidewalks edge, he stopped himself from fidgeting like a nervous teen. “I know this is your last night in town.”