Heart of Texas Vol. 3

by Debbie Macomber

  “’Morning, Travis,” both Jeremy and Emma said at once, and their faces brightened at the sight of him.

  “Where were you last night?” Jeremy asked. “I asked Mom, but she said she wasn’t sure.”

  “I wasn’t sure, either,” Travis replied.

  Nell cast him a warning glance. He’d already promised he wouldn’t tell the children about Bitter End, but she feared he’d forgotten his word.

  “I got…lost,” Travis said, keeping his gaze on her. When she stopped stirring the oatmeal long enough to glare openly at him, he winked.

  Nell felt the color rush to her cheeks and prayed her children wouldn’t notice, but her prayer didn’t reach heaven fast enough to include Ruth. She noticed her mother-in-law grinning as she took her place at the table, obviously pleased.

  When the oatmeal was ready, she served it with brown sugar and raisins. The toast was from a loaf of the homemade bread she’d baked the evening before. She’d kneaded away her worries about Travis on the dough, and it was some of the lightest fluffiest bread she’d ever baked.

  The grandfather clock in the living room chimed eight, and the children leaped up from the table, grabbed their lunches and dashed out the door.

  “You finished with your chores?” Nell shouted after them.

  They both assured her they were.

  “What are your plans for the day?” Ruth asked, directing the question to both Nell and Travis.

  Travis glanced at Nell. She dragged in a deep breath. “I’m driving Travis back to where he left his car. We’re taking along a five-gallon can of gas,” she explained.

  “You going anyplace else?” her mother-in-law pressed.

  “I’ve asked Nell to help me find Bitter End,” Travis said.

  “Will you, Nell?” Ruth searched her face.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “I think you should,” Ruth said unexpectedly.

  For a moment Nell was too shocked to respond. “You want me to find Bitter End?”

  “That’s what I said.” The older woman nodded. “And once you’ve located the town and walked through it, come back and tell me. Don’t dawdle, either. There’s something I have for you—both of you. Something that’s been in the attic all these years.”

  “Ruth?” Nell asked in hushed tones, bending over her mother-in-law. “What is it?”

  “Ruth?” Travis knelt down in front of her.

  The older woman smiled and gently touched his cheek. “Find the town,” she said softly. “Just find the town.”

  Travis helped Nell clean up the kitchen, then loaded the can of gas in the back of the pickup. She was already in the cab when he climbed inside.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  The man could unnerve her faster than anyone she’d ever known. “For what?”

  “For coming with me.”

  In the light of day Nell was annoyed for responding to Travis’s kisses the way she had. It was because of her relief at finding him safe; it must be. She simply hadn’t been herself—except she’d used that excuse before.

  Despite Ruth’s encouragement, she intended to tell him she refused to look for the town. She didn’t want to know what was there, didn’t care to find it.

  “Losing your nerve, are you?” Travis asked.

  “No,” she denied heatedly, then added, “I’m a rancher, not a…historian.”

  “And a—”

  “Coward,” she finished for him. Her fingers ached from her death grip on the steering wheel. What it came down to was fear. Everything she’d ever heard about the town rang in her ears—rumors, warnings, advice. And it all seemed to whisper Keep away.

  “What’s Ruth talking about?” Travis asked once they were on the road.

  “I…I don’t know,” Nell said, which was only partially true. The attic was full of forgotten treasures from the Bishop family. Old clothing, furniture, letters and memorabilia. Seeing that Jake’s family, like her own, had been among the original pioneers, it was quite possible that something stored in the attic had come from Bitter End. Anything her parents might have had, however, had been taken with them when they retired to Florida.

  “Won’t you come with me, Nell?” Travis coaxed.

  It took a long time, but reluctantly she decided Travis was right. She had to confront whatever was there, not just for her own sake but that of her family. Her friends. The people of Promise. It sounded melodramatic to put it in those terms, but then it was a melodramatic situation. Certainly an extraordinary one.

  “All right,” she finally whispered.

  “Thank you,” he said again.

  Had they been anywhere else, not tearing down the road in her pickup, Nell was convinced Travis would have gathered her in his arms and kissed her. Had they been anywhere else, she would have let him.

  That was quite an admission for her, she realized. Despite her reservations and doubts, she was falling in love with this greenhorn. Every unmarried rancher in the area had asked her out at some point since Jake’s death, but who did she fall for? A writer. A man who was going to break her heart, one way or another.

  Nell let Travis do the driving after a while, and an hour later, with Savannah’s map spread out on her lap, Nell suddenly cried, “Here!” She pointed to a grove of trees on the right.

  Travis brought the truck to a stop.

  “We go on foot from this spot,” Nell said, rereading Savannah’s instructions for the tenth time.

  “So I was close,” Travis muttered to himself.

  They left the truck and started out on foot. Nell could already feel her heart pounding, and not from physical effort, either. It seemed to thunder, Keep away, keep away, with every beat.

  “Are you okay?” Travis asked her a few minutes later.

  “Sure,” she lied. “What’s there to fear?”

  “We don’t know that yet, do we?” he said, his expression serious.

  They didn’t speak for a while as they made their way through heavy brush and over rocky treacherous ground. When they reached a limestone outcropping, Nell paused to look over the small valley below—and gasped.

  She pointed a shaking finger at a charred steeple in the distance. The church was the tallest structure, but she could see others, too.

  Travis’s gaze followed the direction of her finger. “Bitter End,” he whispered.

  Nell studied the cluster of buildings. From her vantage point she could look down at them, could see the whole town laid out. Bitter End was divided by one main street with buildings on either side. The church and cemetery were at one end of the town, a corral at the other. Some of the buildings were constructed of stone, others of wood. It surprised her how well preserved everything seemed to be.

  “So far, so good,” Travis said.

  Nell wordlessly agreed and breathed in deeply before they scrambled down the hill and into the town. They arrived near the corral. As they progressed, Nell experienced a feeling of heaviness, of being weighed down, that reminded her of how she’d felt those first few months after Jake’s death.

  She didn’t say anything but wondered if Travis felt the same thing.

  “What is it?” he asked in a hushed tone.

  They were on the main street now, their hands tightly clenched. With each step they advanced into the town, the feeling intensified. The weight pressing on Nell’s heart grew stronger and stronger until she slowed her pace.

  “I…I don’t know.”

  “What’s that?” Travis pointed to the saloon and the rocking chair that sat in front of it. Something leaned against the building.

  “It…looks like Richard’s guitar,” she said. “He hid here for weeks before he was found.”

  “How could he have stood it?” Travis wondered, his voice low and hoarse.

  “I don’t know.” Nell didn’t understand why they felt compelled to speak so quietly. He squeezed her hand, and by tacit agreement they moved from the street onto the boardwalk. Savannah was right, she thought with a shudder. The
re was nothing living here—except the ceaseless wind.

  She paused and looked inside the mercantile. A half-dozen bloated cans of food were scattered on the shelves. An old cash register stood on the counter, its drawer hanging open.

  “Someone was looking for spare change,” Travis remarked.

  “Probably Richard.” Evidence of his presence was everywhere.

  They located the room in the hotel where he’d been sleeping and carefully skirted past the area where the stairs had collapsed. The wood floors were stained with his blood. Debris and empty bottles appeared here and there; magazine pages and food wrappings were blown against the sides of buildings.

  “What are you thinking?” Travis asked as they neared the end of the street.

  “That I want the hell out of here.”

  He chuckled, but the sound was uncomfortable. “Anything else you want to see?”

  “No.” She slid her arm through his and stayed close to his side. The oppressive sensation remained, reminding her even more forcibly of the horrific grief she’d suffered after Jake’s death. It had become a part of her, something she lived with day and night. When it finally did ease, it went a little at a time. Slowly she could laugh again, then dream again. She was only now discovering she could love again. She stopped, suddenly struck by an idea.

  “Hold me, Travis,” she said urgently. They were near the church.

  “Now?” He seemed surprised.

  “Please.”

  He pulled her into his arms and she spoke into his ear. “I’d like to try an experiment.”

  “Okay. What do you need me to do?”

  “Nothing,” she said, then thinking better of it, added, “much.”

  She felt his smile against her skin.

  Easing away from him, she placed her hands on both sides of his face and touched her lips to his. The kiss was deep, involving, as intense as the kisses they’d shared the night before. When she drew back, she studied his face.

  “I like this kind of test,” he told her flippantly. “Am I being graded?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Travis, this is serious.”

  “I am serious.”

  She sighed expressively. “All right, I’ll give you a B-plus.”

  “Why not an A?”

  “Travis, you won’t get an A until you answer my question.”

  “Fine. What’s the question?”

  “The feelings. Have they lessened?”

  “I’m feeling all sorts of things just now. Which feeling do you mean?”

  “The one we felt when we entered the town.”

  “I won’t know until you kiss me again.”

  “Quit joking! This is important.”

  “I wasn’t joking. I can’t tell.”

  “Never mind.”

  “Why?”

  “I have my answer.”

  “And?”

  “It has lessened,” she said. “I’m sure of it.”

  He nodded. “You’re probably right.”

  Holding hands, they walked out of Bitter End. As they approached the outskirts, she felt a sudden sense of release—as though the bonds that constrained her had gone slack. A few steps outside the town, the feeling had all but disappeared.

  After that, they concentrated on the arduous trek back to the road and said very little for some time.

  “Are you okay?” Travis asked once.

  “Fine. What about you?”

  “Fine.”

  Travis followed her in his rental car as she drove back to Twin Canyons Ranch. Ruth sat on the porch with the rocking chair positioned to face the road; she stood and put away her crocheting as soon as she saw them.

  “Did you find the town?” Ruth asked when they entered the kitchen.

  “We found it,” Nell told her.

  She nodded. “I figured you would,” she said softly. “Travis, would you follow me upstairs? There’s something I’d like you to bring down.”

  CHAPTER 8

  TRAVIS HAD ONE HELL OF A TIME bringing the cedar chest down from the attic. It almost seemed as though it was reluctant to give up its secrets, he thought, knowing how whimsical that sounded. Then he needed all his strength to pry open the lid.

  Nell stood back, while Ruth edged close to him, firm and purposeful.

  With the chest finally open, the first thing Travis noted was how neatly packed it was. The top layer was folded clothes, which Ruth carefully removed and set aside.

  They found an old family Bible beneath the dresses and men’s shirts. Ruth held it respectfully with both hands. “It’s exactly like the one Ellie has,” Nell breathed. “Ellie Patterson—used to be Frasier,” she explained to Travis. “Ellie owns the feed store in Promise. Her family came here when mine did, and Jake’s.”

  Travis could picture her easily. Ellie, as he recalled, had judged the chili cook-off.

  “Ellie found the Bible while she was sorting through her father’s things after he died,” Ruth said. “She used the Bible for her wedding ceremony. I was touched that she had, since she was so close to her father.” Carefully Ruth folded back the leather binding and examined the title page. “It says this Bible belonged to Joseph Savage.”

  “Jerry’s great-great—there are too many greats for me to remember,” Ruth said, “but the family’s directly descended from Joseph’s, that much I know.”

  “I’m sure this Bible is identical to the one Ellie owns,” Nell said, moving in close and running her finger down the page.

  “It wasn’t unusual for a salesman to come into town and sell any number of the same item,” Travis said. “My guess is that’s the case here.” In his research he’d come across references to old-time peddlers who rode from one town to the next selling their wares. More often than not, the men who sold Bibles were itinerant preachers, too, performing marriages, conducting funerals and preaching fire-and-brimstone sermons.

  The next thing Nell extracted was an aged cardboard box. “Probably more clothes,” she suggested. “Someone’s wedding dress?”

  “Open it,” Ruth said.

  Nell set the box down and with trembling hands removed the lid. She was wrong; it wasn’t a wedding dress, not even an article of clothing, but parts of a quilt made of a cream-colored muslin.

  “What is it?” Travis asked.

  “The backing and some squares for a quilt, from the looks of it,” Ruth said. “Apparently someone started the project years ago and never finished it.”

  “It’s not any pattern I’ve ever seen,” Nell said. “Most quilts have an overall design.”

  And most were a great deal more colorful than this one, Travis mused. The squares lacked the vivid and varied colors of others he’d seen.

  “It looks like each square’s a picture of some sort,” Nell said and held up one with an oak tree embroidered in the center. The detail was impressive, the stitches minute. She squinted and stared at the square, then shook her head. “I think there’s something carved into the side of the tree,” she said.

  Ruth looked at it and shook her head. “My eyes aren’t what they used to be.”

  Travis took a turn, as well, and after staring at it intensely, was able to make out the letters. “It seems to say, cursed.”

  “Cursed?” Nell repeated. “Weird.” She set the square back in the box. They studied the other squares, but again didn’t find them particularly attractive. Each had a different image, although it wasn’t always clear what that image was meant to be.

  Nell returned the pieces to the cardboard box and set it aside. Leaning over the chest, she reached in and said, “Doesn’t this beat all?”

  “What is it?” Travis asked.

  “It’s a doll.” Nell pulled out an obviously old rag doll, stuffed tight with a hand-stitched face. It had been made of white linen that had faded to a dull yellow, not unlike the color of the quilt squares. The red calico apron added a splash of brightness.

  “I’ve seen one like that before,”
Ruth said, frowning in concentration. “Oh, yes! Dr. Jane had one exactly like that in her office not long ago.”

  “Dr. Jane?” Nell asked. “That seems odd. Are you sure?”

  “Positive. She had it sitting on a bookcase. I remember seeing it the last time I was in for my physical. You remember, Nell? You drove me into town yourself. I needed my blood pressure medication renewed.”

  “How would Dr. Jane come by something like this?” Nell asked. “She’s from California.”

  Travis listened to the conversation and shook his head. A doll identical to one that had come from Bitter End was owned by a California native? He agreed with Nell; it didn’t make sense.

  “Let’s ask her about it,” Travis suggested.

  “Can’t hurt,” Nell said, and Ruth nodded.

  The rest of the chest’s contents consisted of old newspapers from the 1920s through the assassination of President Kennedy in 1963, army discharge papers and the like. Those, too, were neatly filed in cardboard boxes.

  As Ruth carefully repacked the chest, Travis helped Nell finish the chores around the ranch. And then, together, they drove into town.

  “This is probably a wild-goose chase,” Nell said.

  “Probably,” he agreed, wondering if she’d had second thoughts about pursuing the significance of their discoveries.

  They parked in front of the medical clinic, and once again he noted Nell’s hesitation. “Nell,” he said softly, “what is it?”

  “Nothing,” she insisted.

  Travis stared at her. Ever since they’d returned from the ghost town, she’d been quiet, withdrawn, speculative. He didn’t know what to make of it.

  Dr. Jane was with a patient. They sat in the waiting room, and Travis flipped through magazines until the receptionist led them back to Jane’s office. Travis glanced around; he noticed no antique doll on her bookcase now.

  Jane entered briskly and took a seat at her desk. “Good to see you, Nell,” she said. “Hello,” she added, nodding in his direction.

  Nell introduced Travis and they shook hands. Dr. Jane Patterson’s lovely blue eyes revealed a genuine pleasure at seeing Nell—and open curiosity about him.