Heart of Texas Vol. 3

by Debbie Macomber

  “Nell Bishop and Travis Grant are here to see you,” Martha announced.

  “Show them in.” Wade knew Nell had a paying guest staying at Twin Canyons. Nell had briefly introduced him after service a couple of Sundays ago. Jeremy and Emma had been full of chatter about their guest the past few weeks, as well, but Wade hadn’t met him yet.

  His first sight of Travis Grant revealed a large man with a kind face.

  “Wade McMillen,” Wade said, and the two men exchanged handshakes. Wade gestured for Nell and Travis to sit down, which they did. Maybe he was getting to be an old hand at such things, but Wade felt he knew the reason for this unexpected visit.

  One glance told him they were in love; he knew the signs. It was early, probably too early, for them to think about marriage. If that was what they were here to discuss, he’d feel obliged to suggest a long engagement. Nevertheless, Wade was pleased for Nell, very pleased indeed.

  “What can I do for you?” Wade asked, leaning back in his leather chair.

  “We’ve come to talk to you about Bitter End,” Nell said.

  Wade frowned. That was the last subject he’d expected her to mention. The ghost town that had been the cause of so much trouble lately, what with Richard Weston having holed up there. Sheriff Hennessey and the town council had combined their efforts to keep things quiet, but information always seemed to leak out, anyway.

  “You do know about the ghost town, don’t you?” Travis asked.

  “Yes. Have you been there?” The question was directed at Travis, but Nell answered.

  “We both have. Twice,” she added.

  “Actually three times.”

  Nell nodded. “Three times.”

  Good grief, they already sounded like an old married couple.

  Nell looked at Travis and her eyes sparkled with excitement and happiness. “We think we’ve solved the mystery of why everyone left Bitter End.”

  “The town was cursed,” Travis explained.

  “Cursed?”

  “By a preacher whose sixteen-year-old son was hanged when a mob of rowdy drunks got out of hand.”

  Wade hated to discourage them. In the Wild West it wasn’t uncommon for a preacher to be credited with the ability to rain fire and brimstone down upon the backs of sinners. There were usually logical reasons for these supposedly supernatural events, but they were cheerfully overlooked.

  “His name was Moses,” Nell supplied.

  “The preacher’s?”

  “No, the teenager who was hanged.”

  The violence of the Old West never ceased to distress Wade, but then all he had to do was take a walk through an inner-city slum to appreciate that, in certain ways, humanity hadn’t advanced much.

  “When the mob of drunks hanged the boy, the preacher came to the town and cursed it with the plagues of Egypt,” Nell said.

  “That’s our theory, anyway,” Travis added.

  Wade was willing to listen, but he didn’t hold out much hope that this was really the reason the town had been abandoned all those years ago. “How do you know about the plagues?”

  “From the story quilt.”

  Nell and Travis glanced at each other as if to decide who should explain the role played by this quilt. Apparently it was decided that Nell would, because she continued. “Ruth had a cedar chest in the attic that was given to her after her mother-in-law died almost fifty years ago. Inside it, we found the makings of a quilt. The backing was intact, but there was only a handful of completed squares.”

  “We found only six, but we knew there had to be others.”

  “There were,” Nell said, her face glowing with enthusiasm. “Ellie Frasier phoned and told us about an embroidered square she’d found in her father’s Bible.”

  “One with a giant grasshopper,” Travis explained.

  “Locusts,” Wade murmured.

  “Exactly.”

  “We’re convinced,” Travis said, pausing to look at Nell, who nodded eagerly, “that the final plague, the one that drove the families away from Bitter End was some kind of epidemic that killed their children. By now, the residents had endured one tribulation after another—bugs, weather problems, failed crops…”

  “The quilt told you all this?” Wade asked.

  “Yes,” Nell said, “it explained everything. Well, almost everything.”

  “Go on.” Wade motioned to Travis. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

  “When the children started dying, the people who were left panicked, packed up everything they owned and moved. Canned goods still remain on the store shelves, so my guess is they had a big meeting and made the decision to get out together immediately.”

  “Drought, disease, pestilence,” Wade murmured. “I’d leave, too.”

  “It’s an incredible story,” Nell said and glanced at Travis, her pride evident. “Travis is going to write about it.”

  “This is exactly the type of story I’ve been waiting to find. For years I’ve been writing for juveniles and I’ve searched for the right vehicle to cross over from children’s books to adult fiction.”

  “You aren’t going to stop writing for kids, are you?” Nell asked, looking distressed.

  “No, they’re my audience, and I’ll always write for them. But the story of Bitter End gives me an opportunity to make my mark with another readership.”

  This exchange was lost on Wade. He knew Travis was a writer, but had assumed he wrote for a newspaper. Rather than ask a lot of questions, he narrowed it down to one. “Was there something you needed from me?”

  The two of them stared at him as though they’d forgotten he was there. “We want you to bless Bitter End,” Nell said.

  “Bless it?”

  “That’s what the town needs,” Travis interjected. “And according to what Nell tells me, Promise will benefit from it, too.”

  Wade wasn’t sure there was anything to this curse business. All the disasters Travis and Nell had described were probably nothing more than an unfortunate set of coincidences. Superstitions ran deep back then, and people put credence in matters they shouldn’t. But it wouldn’t hurt to bless the town. He’d be happy to do it.

  THREE DAYS LATER, WADE STOOD in the middle of Bitter End. With him were several members of the town council, Sheriff Frank Hennessey, the Patterson brothers and their wives, Grady and Caroline Weston, Nell Bishop and her writer friend, and Laredo Smith. It was unlikely this many people had congregated here in more than a hundred years. Each had come for his or her own reasons. And almost everyone who’d accompanied Wade was related to the original settlers in one way or another.

  Bitter End. Not exactly a promising name for a frontier settlement. As Wade remembered it, the town had gotten its name from the first settlers, who’d arrived by wagon train. The journey had been long and arduous, but eventually they’d reached the land of their dreams. Unfortunately, due to the hardships they’d suffered on the journey, many of their dreams had turned bitter.

  As soon as he set foot in the town, Wade had felt a gloom and a darkness settle over him, even though the day was bright and sunny. He tried to ignore it and proceeded with the ceremony.

  Once everyone was gathered around him, he opened his Bible and read a passage. As he spoke the words, he felt the oppression loosen its grip on him.

  If the preacher a hundred years ago had used the Old Testament, filled with its judgments and laws, to curse the land, then he’d bless it from the New Testament. Freedom from bondage and judgment would be his prayer.

  Wade’s voice rang loud and clear down the lifeless streets. When he’d finished reading, he bowed his head. The others followed his lead. Wade prayed that God would smile down on this land once more and make it a place of love, instead of hate, a home of joy, instead of sadness.

  A chorus of amens followed when he finished.

  Laredo Smith stepped forward, carrying a bucket, shovel and a budding rosebush. “Savannah couldn’t be here today, but she wanted me to plant this close to the t
ree where the boy was hanged.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea,” Nell said. Then she pointed to the charred marks on the church steeple. “That was one of the plagues—lightning and hail.”

  Wade was fast becoming a believer of this incredible tale. He’d studied the quilt pieces—including a seventh one that had been found by Dovie, an illustration of lightning striking a church. And he’d checked out the Internet sites identified by Travis. The more he read and heard about Bitter End, the more everything added up.

  “The feeling’s not as strong,” Wade heard Ellie Patterson murmur to her husband.

  “I noticed that, too,” Dr. Jane added.

  Wade smiled to himself as the assembled group headed back to the highway where the cars were parked.

  Wade enjoyed the way these friends talked and joked with each other, but he noted that Nell Bishop and Travis Grant appeared strangely quiet. They were the ones who deserved the credit for solving this mystery. Over the past few days, they’d been the center of attention, and while Nell seemed to be uncomfortable in the limelight, Travis was clearly in his element.

  It was often that way with couples, Wade had observed. One shy, the other outgoing. One sociable, the other private. The law of opposites—the wonderful balance that brought stability into a relationship.

  As they approached their vehicles, Travis stepped up to Wade. “I’d like to thank you again for all your help.”

  “The pleasure was mine,” Wade said and meant it.

  “I’ll be leaving Wednesday morning, and I wanted to take the opportunity to say goodbye,” Travis went on.

  That explained Nell’s dour look. Travis was returning to New York City, a city far removed from this land of sagebrush and ghost towns and tales of the Wild West.

  “The best of luck with your book,” Wade said. “Keep in touch.”

  Travis glanced in Nell’s direction and responded with a noncommittal shrug.

  Wade couldn’t help wondering what had happened between the two. Whatever it was, he felt saddened that they didn’t have more of an opportunity to explore their love. Although he was far from an expert in the area of romance, Wade had sensed they were well suited.

  “You’re leaving?” The question came from Grady Weston.

  Travis nodded. “I’ve been away far longer than I expected as it is.”

  “You’re not going to let him drive off into the sunset, are you?” Caroline pressured Nell.

  It seemed every eye turned to the widow. “As Travis said, he needs to get back.” Her tone was stiff. Then she turned away.

  TRAVIS DUMPED A STACK of shirts in his suitcase, not showing any particular care. He was a patient man, but he’d been tried to the very limits of his endurance. Beyond!

  Nell acted as though his return to New York was cause for celebration. She’d gone so far as to throw him a farewell dinner party. She’d invited her friends, and the last he heard a dozen people had promised to show.

  All day she’d been in the kitchen, cooking up a storm, baking, chopping, sautéing. His last hours in Texas, and the woman he loved had her head buried in a cookbook.

  Not that he didn’t appreciate the effort. It was a kind gesture, but spending the evening with a crowd wasn’t how he wanted it. He’d hoped to have a few minutes alone with Nell, but that wasn’t to be. In fact, she’d made it quite plain that she didn’t want to be alone with him. Fine. He was a big boy; he knew when he’d worn out his welcome.

  “Do you need any help?” Jeremy asked as he came into the bunkhouse.

  Travis zipped up his bag. “Thanks, but I’ve got everything packed.”

  The boy at least had the common decency to show some regret at Travis’s departure. Emma, too, had moped around the house from the moment she walked in the door. She followed her brother into the bunkhouse.

  “Hey, Emma,” Travis said. “Why the sad face?”

  Her lower lip quivered. “I don’t want you to go.”

  “He has to go,” Jeremy answered on his behalf.

  “Do you?” Emma asked, her eyes wide and forlorn.

  Travis opened his mouth to answer, but Jeremy beat him to the punch. “That’s what Mom said, remember? His work and his whole life are in New York.” Jeremy sounded as though he’d memorized his mother’s response. A very reasonable response, he had to admit—but it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

  “Mom said we’re going to have lots of guests in the next few weeks,” Emma told him.

  “She’s right,” Travis said. Nell would have the dude ranch in full swing before long.

  “We’re bound to get attached to lots of folks,” Jeremy said, again echoing his mother’s words, Travis suspected.

  Attached. Nell thought the relationship he shared with Jeremy and Emma was just one in a long list of attachments. The woman didn’t have a clue, he thought angrily. He loved those kids! Her, too.

  And all she saw him as—or wanted to see him as—was a paying customer at Twin Canyons Ranch. Which made him the first of many wannabe cowboys.

  All he needed was some encouragement from Nell. Then he’d stay. Just one word of encouragement. Two at the most. Don’t go would have sufficed. Instead, she was so pleased to see him off she was throwing a party. It was hard for a man to swallow.

  The dinner guests started arriving at five. Nell had the front yard set up with tables and chairs. In addition to all the food she’d been cooking, her friends and neighbors brought over a variety of tasty dishes—salads and casseroles, pies and cakes.

  Once dinner was served, they seated themselves at the tables and ate. Ruth sat next to Travis. He almost had the impression that she was waiting for him to do something—but what? After the meal Travis went around to pay his respects to the people he was just beginning to know. He seemed to hit it off with Grady Weston best. It was a shame to call a man a friend in one breath and tell him goodbye in the next.

  Travis didn’t know what Nell found so all-fired important, but he didn’t see her the entire meal. As far as he could figure, she’d hidden herself in the kitchen where she’d been all day.

  Before he could do anything about it, Grady joined him, and they exchanged pleasantries for several minutes. Then Grady grew strangely quiet. “What time are you going back to New York?”

  “First thing in the morning,” Travis said. His flight was late in the afternoon, but he had a three-hour drive ahead of him, plus the rental car to return.

  “Do you…anticipate seeing Richard again?”

  So that was where this conversation was headed. “I don’t expect I will.”

  Grady nodded, his look grave.

  “Would you like me to check up on him now and again?” Travis offered.

  “He’s a criminal and he’s paying for his crimes, but damn it all, he’s still my brother.” Grady’s voice dropped.

  “Hey, no problem, and I don’t need to say I’m there on your behalf.”

  “It isn’t on my behalf, so to speak,” Grady was quick to correct him. “I just want to be sure—I guess I’m looking for a change in him.”

  “Is it possible?”

  “I pray it is,” Grady said. He stood, patted Travis on the back and left the table to return to his wife.

  The laughter and chatter continued for a while, and then people packed up their leftovers and were gone. Travis was grateful. Nell couldn’t avoid him forever. He gathered up the serving dishes and carried them into the house.

  Nell was washing dishes, her arms elbow-deep in soap suds.

  “That was a wonderful dinner,” he said.

  “Thank you.”

  “I don’t think anyone’s ever gone to so much trouble to send me off.” He realized he must have sounded a little sarcastic, but if she noticed, she ignored it.

  “It wasn’t any trouble,” Nell countered. “Besides, the community owes you a debt of thanks. If it wasn’t for you, no one would know what happened in Bitter End.”

  “You worked just as hard.”

  �
�You dragged me kicking and screaming into this project, remember?”

  That wasn’t exactly how Travis recalled it. She’d been reluctant, true, but had willingly enough accompanied him. They’d made a great team.

  “I’m going to miss you,” he said and wished to hell she’d turn around so he could look at her. Instead, she stood with her back to him and revealed none of her thoughts.

  “Me and Emma got all the trash picked up,” Jeremy called from the living room.

  “It’s bedtime,” she told them. “Go upstairs and wash.”

  “Aw, Mom.”

  “You heard me.”

  Nell must have removed the plug from the kitchen drain because he heard the water swish and gurgle. She turned to reach for a towel and beamed him a smile so dazzling it startled him.

  “What time are you leaving?” she asked.

  “Around six.”

  She nodded. “I probably won’t see you, then.”

  He was hoping she’d suggest they have coffee together before he left. Just the two of them. No kids. No Ruth. Just them.

  She didn’t offer.

  Travis forced himself to smile. “I guess this is it, then.”

  “This is it.”

  They stood and stared at each other for an awkward moment.

  “It’s been…great,” Nell said at last.

  He nodded. “I’d like to kiss you goodbye, Nell,” he said.

  She hesitated, then floated easily into his arms. When their mouths found each other, the kiss was a blend of need and sadness, of appreciation and farewell.

  When she slid out of his arms, Travis was shocked by how much he missed her there. He might as well get accustomed to it, for she gave no indication that she cared to see him again. Not one word, not one sign.

  “You’ll keep in touch?” he asked, hoping she’d at least be willing to do that.

  “The kids would love to hear from you.”

  Her words hit their mark. “But not you?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Would you enjoy hearing from me?” It was damn little to ask.

  She lowered her gaze and nodded.

  “Was that so hard, Nell?”

  She looked up at him and he was surprised to see tears glistening in her eyes. “Yes,” she whispered. “It was very hard.”