Texas Forever

by Janet Dailey

  “I’ll be along later. If your man shows up, I’ll introduce myself and point the way to the bunkhouse.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure. I’m too strung out to sleep.”

  “All right, but don’t stay up too late. His name’s Maddox. He’ll be driving a black Chevy truck with a shell on the back and a two-wheel trailer behind. You can tell him there’s a couple of empty rooms and a bath on the second floor.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye out for him. If he pulls in after I’ve gone to bed, that’ll be his problem.”

  As her father went inside, shutting the front door behind him, Erin settled back in the chair and closed her eyes. After the emotionally draining day, she felt as if the earth had dropped away under her feet. In her growing-up years, three strong people had always been there for her—her mother, her father, and Jasper.

  Tori, her beautiful, golden-haired mother, had slipped away four months ago, just weeks after her cancer diagnosis. Now Jasper was gone, too, and she sensed that her father was sinking into despair. He was putting on a brave face, but she could see the shadows that ringed his eyes and the slump of his once-proud shoulders. Erin knew the signs. It was as if she were losing him, too.

  How could she even think of getting married when Will needed her? Her losses were his losses, perhaps even more deeply felt. This was no time for him to lose his daughter, his only child, to another man.

  She had her answer for Kyle. Any talk of marriage would have to wait.

  Erin greeted the decision with a sigh of relief. Until now, she hadn’t realized how much pressure Kyle’s proposal had put on her, and how unprepared she’d been to say yes and let him put that stunning diamond ring on her finger. Maybe later, she thought. Maybe in a year or so. But not yet.

  As moments passed, she could feel herself relaxing in the chair. The peaceful sounds of night crept around her—the chirr of crickets under the porch, the faint creak of the windmill, the murmur of horses in the paddock, and the far-off wail of a coyote. Little by little, she began to drift....

  * * *

  The security light, mounted with a motion sensor on a leg of the windmill, flashed on, startling Erin awake. She jerked bolt upright in the chair, blinking in the brightness as she struggled to focus her sleep-dulled mind. What time was it?

  A black pickup towing a small trailer was pulling into the ranch yard. That would be the farrier her father had hired, arriving late, without so much as a phone call to let anyone know when he’d be here. What was his name? Matlock? No, Maddox, that was it. Pushing to her feet, she took a deep breath and strode down the steps to meet him.

  * * *

  Luke Maddox let the truck’s engine idle a moment while he watched the Rimrock welcoming committee walk toward him. He’d expected Will Tyler to come lumbering out of the house, ready to rip a piece out of his hide for showing up after midnight. Instead, here was this woman—a pretty one at that. She was dressed like a boy, in jeans and a plaid shirt. But there was nothing boyish about her lithe, confident walk, her willowy figure, or the honey-colored hair that fluttered in the wind.

  She looked young—too young for him, Luke reminded himself. So why did he find himself wishing he’d bought a pack of breath mints before leaving that poker game at the Blue Coyote in town? He would’ve been here sooner, but what the hell, he’d been winning. Tyler couldn’t fault him for that—not as long as he showed up ready for work in the morning.

  Mildly intrigued, he opened the door of the cab, swung his feet to the ground, and waited as she approached him. Close up she was even prettier than he’d expected. Maybe younger, too. Boss’s daughter, he guessed from her confident manner. Strictly off limits if he didn’t want to get butt-kicked off the ranch by her father. But glory be, he couldn’t be fired for looking.

  Bold and direct, her eyes took his measure before she spoke. “Mr. Maddox?” Her raw, husky voice was too womanly for her age. “I’m Erin Tyler. I told my father I’d stay up and wait for you, but that was hours ago. We’d just about given up on you. I hope you had a good reason for being so late.”

  Boss’s daughter. He’d been right. Princess proud and as sassy as a blue jay.

  “I had about three hundred good reasons,” he said. “But I won’t be starting work until morning. Till then, I figured my time was my own.”

  One dark eyebrow arched upward. “Well, Mr. Maddox, there’s a room waiting for you—door number five, on the second floor of the bunkhouse.” She gestured toward a frame building on the far side of the yard. “There’s a bathroom up there, too. Just remember that the men won’t take kindly to your making noise when they’re trying to sleep. Chores at five, breakfast at six. If you want to eat, be up on time and ready to help out. We’re running a ranch here, not a hotel.”

  Sassy as jalapeño sauce. Picante, as the Mexicans would say. That was the word for her. “I’ll keep that in mind,” Luke said. “Where can I park this rig?”

  “Over there by the barn for now. The foreman will be here tomorrow. He’ll get you set up with a place to park and work.” She started to walk away, then paused, turning back toward him.

  “I’m afraid you’ve come at a bad time. We’ve had a death on the ranch, a loss to us all. Nobody will be in the mood for joking or bad language. Please keep that in mind and be respectful.”

  Luke nodded, and she continued.

  “The funeral will be on Saturday. The ranch workers who knew the man will be invited to pay their respects. You’ll be expected to work as usual.”

  “Understood. The name’s Luke, by the way. I’m guessing you don’t stand on formality with the hired help.” Luke tried to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, but the sudden narrowing of her eyes told him she hadn’t missed it. “Anything else?” he asked.

  “I’d say that’s enough for tonight. The foreman can answer any questions you might have in the morning. His name’s Sky Fletcher. I’ll make sure he knows you’re here.”

  * * *

  Erin turned and began to walk away. She’d said enough. It was time she went back in the house and left Luke Maddox to get to bed on his own. There was something unsettling about the man, and it wasn’t just his size—although six-foot-three inches of solid muscle was impressive enough. It wasn’t even his arrogance. A virile, masculine energy seemed to radiate from him. It crackled in the depths of his sardonic black eyes and flowed subtly, like an invisible aura, over his rugged features, thick, dark hair, and stubbled jaw.

  Erin had lived and worked with men all her life. She was neither shy nor nervous around them. But something told her she’d be smart to keep her distance from this one. When she looked at him, a cautionary voice whispered, too hot to handle.

  She hadn’t heard him get into his truck, which probably meant that he was standing there, watching her walk away. Damn the man! It would serve him right if she turned around and caught him ogling her backside—except that he probably wouldn’t care.

  She’d walked a dozen paces and was about to take another step when he suddenly shouted, “Look out!”

  Faster than she’d imagined a big man could move, he lunged for her, seized her by the waist, and yanked her backward—just in time to keep her from stepping on a five-foot bull snake.

  She lost her footing and fell back against him. His body was rock hard, his clasp like an iron vise. He smelled of tobacco smoke, horses, and man sweat.

  “What the hell?” His grip eased as the snake slithered off into the shadows and he noticed her calm demeanor. “Did I just save your life or did I make a fool of myself?”

  “I’m sure you meant well. But don’t worry. I’m fine.” More startled than scared, Erin righted herself and pulled away from him. He was still staring after the snake.

  “It didn’t bite you, did it? Do you want me to get a shovel and kill the thing for you?”

  Erin managed to laugh. “Heavens, no. Henry’s harmless as long as you leave him alone. He lives under the grain shed and keeps the mice
under control. He discourages the rattlers, too. They don’t want to mess with him. Mostly he stays out of sight. But tonight he probably thought he had the place to himself.”

  “Henry? Are you saying the damn thing’s a pet?”

  “Not really. More like one of the crew. Watch out when you move your rig. I don’t want to come out here in the morning and discover that you’ve run over him.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll give that monster a wide berth.” He shuddered. “Damn, I hate snakes!”

  “Then you’re in the wrong state. Maybe you need to move to Alaska. Sleep tight, Mr. Maddox.” Turning away, Erin strode toward the porch, willing herself not to look back at him.

  She remembered how a much smaller Henry had first shown up, and Jasper had talked Will into sparing the snake so it could live under the shed and feed on the mice that were pillaging the stored grain.

  That had been three years ago. Now Jasper was gone—and with his passing, it was as if winds of change were blowing across the Rimrock. New challenges. New decisions. New dangers. And new people.

  Tilting her face toward her shoulder, she inhaled the strangely erotic scent that clung to her shirt. The blend of horses, smoke, and sweat evoked the memory of a hard body and strong arms. But it was only for a moment. Her parents had made it clear that fraternizing with the hired help was a bad idea. And she had a boyfriend—a nice, respectable boyfriend she’d probably marry one day. Just not yet.

  As she mounted the steps, Erin heard the truck start up. She didn’t look back.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ROSE LANDRO MCCADE PRESSED AGAINST THE WINDOW OF THE United Airlines plane on approach to Lubbock Preston Smith International Airport. From the air, she could see how much three decades had changed the countryside. Subdivisions sprawled over what had been open prairie. Skyscrapers towered above the downtown area. Freeways crisscrossed the landscape.

  Rose had thought of this trip as a homecoming. But that home, she realized, would not be the place she remembered—not even the people.

  But then, she had changed, too.

  This would be the first time she’d traveled by plane since she and Tanner, the love of her life, had flown to Hawaii on a long-awaited second honeymoon. They’d returned to the news that Bull Tyler, aging, crippled, and in pain, had died in their absence. Now Jasper had followed him. At least this time, she would have the chance to pay her respects.

  Two days had passed since she’d gotten Will’s call. Rose had remembered Will as a boy. But it was a man with a weary voice who’d given her the news that Jasper had passed away in what appeared to be a tragic accident. Even now, she felt the pain of loss like an icy stab to the heart. She hadn’t seen Jasper since her wedding day. But in her memory, he’d always been strong, vigorous, funny, and wise—and always her steadfast friend.

  “The funeral is set for Saturday,” Will had told her. “After the service, we’ll be taking Jasper to the Hill Country to bury him next to Sally’s grave. She was—”

  “Yes, I know,” Rose had said. “She was the girl who drowned before their wedding. He told me he’d never loved anyone else.” Rose had wiped away the first of many tears. “I’ll be there as soon as I can get a flight. Jasper was my best friend. I want to say a proper good-bye to him.”

  “You can fly into Lubbock,” Will said. “Let us know when you’ve got your flight. Erin can be there to pick you up.”

  “Where has the time gone? I can’t believe she’s old enough to drive.”

  “Erin’s nineteen and very much her own person,” Will said. “You’ll enjoy getting to know her.”

  “That sounds lovely. I was going to get a rental, but I wasn’t looking forward to driving a strange car on the freeway. How will I know your daughter when I see her?”

  “You’ll know her,” Will had assured her. “Erin is the image of Susan, my mother.”

  Rose’s thoughts spun back to the present as the plane touched down on the runway and taxied to the gate. Clutching her carry-on, she let the crush of deplaning passengers—like cattle going down a chute, she thought—carry her through the Jetway and out into the terminal. There was a moment’s unease as she spotted the BAGGAGE CLAIM sign and followed the arrows. Would Will’s daughter be waiting? Would they recognize each other?

  She’d kept in touch with her Rimrock family, mostly by way of occasional Christmas cards. She knew that Will had married, divorced, and remarried the same woman—strange that he hadn’t mentioned her just now. She knew that a third Tyler son had turned up—Sky Fletcher, born of Bull’s brief affair with a Comanche woman. She knew that Beau was married with a young daughter, and that he’d returned to the ranch for a time, but eventually had gone back to his government job. Ferg Prescott—the scheming neighbor Rose and Bull had both detested—was long gone. So was his son, Garn, who’d sold the Prescott Ranch to a syndicate before going into politics. Sky had married Garn’s daughter, joining the two rival lines. And that, Rose thought, was the sum total of what she knew. Everything else would be a surprise.

  Passing into the baggage claim area, Rose checked the flight numbers above the carousels. The luggage from her flight was already unloading, but she had yet to spot her old brown leather suitcase. She was waiting impatiently when she happened to glance through the crowd to the far side of the carousel. Standing a few feet back was a tall, slender young woman in jeans and a white tee, her dark blond hair brushed to the side in a single braid. In her hands was a cardboard placard with a single name on it—ROSE.

  * * *

  Erin hurried to meet the woman striding toward her. There could be no mistaking Rose McCade. Will had described her as he remembered, from her petite stature and dark eyes to the birthmark that blazed down the left margin of her face. But given Rose’s age, Erin had expected someone elderly, a person who might need a hand getting out of the airport to the car. Apart from her silver hair, twisted and pinned atop her head, Rose was a total surprise.

  Dressed in trail-worn jeans and boots, with a denim jacket, she was a wiry bundle of energy. Her face, bare of makeup, was tanned and weathered from days on the Wyoming range, but her smile was as youthful as her step. Her only ornament, besides her wedding ring, was a pair of miniature silver horseshoe-shaped earrings.

  She stopped an arm’s length from Erin and stood looking up at her. “Goodness, you make me feel old,” she said. “I knew your grandmother when I was a girl. She was about your age then. You look just like her.”

  Erin found her voice. “Welcome home to Texas, Rose. Thank you for coming all this way.”

  They hugged, awkwardly at first, then warmly, both of them aware of the deep connection they shared. Rose wasn’t family, but she was the closest thing.

  “Let’s get your bag and be on our way,” Erin said.

  “There it is.” Rose pointed out a well-used leather suitcase. Erin grabbed it off the carousel and guided Rose outside to short-term parking, where she loaded the suitcase in the back of the dusty station wagon that had been her mother’s. She’d actually had it washed that morning when she bought gas in town. But this summer, after months of drought, there was no escaping the fine dust that settled on everything.

  Moments later, they were on their way, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the highway. “Let’s hope we can beat the rush hour traffic,” Erin said. “I promised Dad I’d have you home in time for dinner. He’ll be so glad to see you.”

  “How is Will?” Rose asked. “I haven’t seen him since he was a boy. But I remember how serious and responsible he was, even then. I’m guessing that Jasper’s death hit him hard.”

  “It hit all of us hard,” Erin said. “But I think it was the worst for Dad, especially since my mother passed away just four months ago.”

  “Oh, no!” Rose exclaimed. “He didn’t tell me. I’m so sorry.”

  “He doesn’t like to talk about it.” Erin had learned to hide her own grief, even though it was always there, like a cold, raw pain that never went away. “It was can
cer. She was only forty-three. Dad was devastated. And now, with Jasper gone, it’s like he’s been knocked down and gut kicked twice.” She glanced at Rose. “I’m really glad you’ve come. Seeing you again is bound to raise his spirits.”

  “I hope so.” Rose gazed out the window at the traffic, then changed the subject. “Lubbock has changed a lot since the last time I was here. I’m guessing the ranch has changed, too.”

  “Not as much as you’d think,” Erin said. “The house is still there. The barn was rebuilt after a fire, but it’s in the same place. The old sheds and corrals are pretty much the same, just fixed up.”

  “How about the people? I remember Bernice and what a wonderful cook she was. But she was only a few years younger than Jasper. I don’t suppose she’s still around.”

  “Bernice retired and went to live with her daughter. She passed away a couple of years ago. We hired a Latina woman, the wife of one of our cowboys, to take her place. Her name’s Carmen. She’s good at her job, but she doesn’t live in the house, like Bernice did.”

  “And the chickens? I loved those chickens. Jasper and I built their coop together.”

  “Sorry, no more chickens. There’s a supermarket in Blanco Springs. We get our eggs and chicken meat there now.”

  Rose sighed. “Too bad. There’s something about raising chickens that’s good for the soul. And goats, too.”

  “Sorry, no goats either,” Erin said.

  “Too bad.” Rose fell silent as she gazed out the side window. They were on the freeway now, with the flat caprock plain stretching to the horizon on either side of them. The pastures, croplands, and cotton fields, watered by deep artesian wells, were green. But the stretches of open country offered little more than yellowed grass, dry scrub, and blowing dust.

  “It’s so dry,” Rose remarked. “The Rimrock must be hurting for water.”

  “This is the worst drought I can remember,” Erin said. “Are you familiar with that parcel up on the caprock, with the wells?”