Heart of Texas Vol. 3

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Heart of Texas Vol. 3 Page 16

by Debbie Macomber


  CHAPTER 11

  THERE WAS NO POINT in pretending anymore. Nell sat out on her front porch, watching the sunset. Travis had been gone a week and it felt like ten years. She’d fallen in love with a greenhorn. Travis Grant might know everything there was to know about computers, but he’d barely figured out which side of as addle was up.

  “A writer,” Nell muttered, staring at the sky. She was thoroughly disgusted with herself. Everything she’d ever wanted in this life she’d had with Jake. But he’d died, and she was so lonely. She hadn’t even realized how lonely until that New Yorker kissed her. All the men who’d pestered her for a date in the past couple of years and she hadn’t felt the slightest interest. Then Travis came into her life and before she knew it she was in love.

  “Are you thinking about Travis again?” Ruth asked, standing just inside the screen door.

  “No,” Nell denied vehemently, then reluctantly confessed. “Yeah.” Yeah. Now Travis had her doing it. If he’d stayed much longer, she’d sound just like a Yankee.

  “You gonna write him?”

  “No.” Of that much Nell was sure.

  “Why not?”

  “I can’t see where it’d do any good.”

  “Oh, Nell.”

  “He’s from New York. He wouldn’t be happy in Promise and this is where the kids and I belong.” The situation was impossible, and the sooner she accepted that, the better it would be for everyone. Travis Grant was a writer who lived in the center of the publishing world. He’d come to Texas to research a book, not find himself a wife and take on a ready-made family.

  She was convinced that in time she’d fall in love with someone from around here. Someone who stirred her heart. Travis had shown her it was possible; now all she had to do was find the right man.

  “Nell, dear, I still think you should write him a letter.” Ruth sat in the rocker next to Nell and took out her crocheting.

  Even if she did write Travis, Nell mused, she wouldn’t know what to say. Really, what was there to write about? Besides, he might misread her intent and assume she was asking something of him.

  Eventually she’d get over him and her heart would forget. Any night now she’d stop dreaming about him. Any day now he’d fade from her thoughts.

  No, she most definitely wasn’t going to write. If he wanted to continue the relationship, then he’d have to contact her first.

  Well…maybe just one letter, she thought. Just to be sure he arrived home safe and sound. And she could always ask him about the book. One letter, but only one.

  That couldn’t do any harm.

  TRAVIS SQUINTED AT THE computer screen, then yawned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He’d been home all of eight days and he’d already written the first fifty pages of his new book—the book for adults. The words seemed to pour out of him. He couldn’t get them down fast enough.

  But then, he’d always been able to escape into a story when his life was miserable. It was one of the blessings of being a writer—and one of the curses. His stomach growled in angry protest and he realized it’d been twenty-four hours since his last meal.

  He walked barefoot in the direction of his kitchen, surprised to realize it was morning. It was 6 a.m. according to the clock on the mantel. From the view through the windows in his high-rise apartment, he saw that the city was just waking up. In Texas Nell would be—He stopped, refusing to think about Nell, or Jeremy or Emma. They were out of his life and that was the way it had to be. The way she wanted it. That had been made more than clear before he left Promise.

  Promise. Yeah, right. They should have named the town Heartache.

  His stomach growled again, more insistently this time, and Travis headed toward the refrigerator. It shouldn’t have come as any surprise to find nothing he’d seriously consider eating. He was rummaging through his pantry shelves when the apartment intercom buzzed. He muttered under his breath as he heard his ex-wife’s voice. Still muttering he waited at the door to let her in.

  “You’ve been home for a week and I haven’t heard from you,” she said accusingly. “I thought I’d stop by on my way to work to greet the prodigal son.” She’d always been an early riser, like him, and generally got to the office before seven.

  “I’ve been working.” He might not have been as friendly if she hadn’t come bearing gifts. She carried a sack from his favorite bakery and a takeout latte. At the moment he would have thrown his arms around anyone offering food.

  “You eating?”

  He reached for the sack. “I am now.”

  Valerie chuckled and followed him into the kitchen. She was a lovely looking woman, but Travis was now immune. Unfortunately she was cold and calculating, and about as different from Nell Bishop as a woman could get.

  “So what’d you find out about that ghost town?” Val asked.

  Travis quickly devoured two jelly-filled doughnuts, pausing only long enough to inhale. His stomach thanked him, and he settled back with the latte. Between sips, he filled in the details, casually mentioning Nell. He acknowledged her help in solving the puzzle and said nothing about his feelings toward her.

  Valerie might have remarried, but she tended to believe that Travis remained stuck on her. He couldn’t be bothered setting her straight.

  “Who’s this Nell?”

  Damn, but it was impossible to hide anything from her! “A woman I met.”

  “You in love with her?”

  Leave it to Val to get directly to the point. “Maybe.” He licked the jelly from his fingertips rather than meet her gaze.

  “Travis,” she chided. “I know you, and maybe isn’t in your vocabulary.”

  “She was a…nice diversion,” he said, evading her question. If he was truly in love with Nell, he’d walk on hot coals before he’d admit it to his ex-wife. The one who deserved to know first would be Nell. However, at this point, it seemed unlikely that their relationship would go any further.

  “Did you meet Richard Weston’s family?” Val asked.

  Travis nodded. “They’re good people.”

  “Actually Richard’s not half-bad himself.”

  Travis’s gaze narrowed. He was surprised she didn’t recognize Weston for the kind of man he was. He’d credited her with better judgment. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  Val shrugged. “Nothing. How can it? He’s behind bars.”

  “You actually like this guy?”

  Val crossed her legs and smiled. “I know what he did, and while he isn’t exactly a candidate for a congressional medal of honor, I find him rather charming.”

  Snakes could be charming, too. Frankly Travis didn’t like hearing her talk this way. Recently Val had implied that she and husband number two weren’t getting on, but surely she wouldn’t get mixed up with a prisoner. “Time for a reality check, Val.”

  Her eyes flared. “You’re one to talk,” she snapped. “You’re in love with some cowgirl widow.”

  “I didn’t say I loved her.”

  “You didn’t have to. It’s written all over you.”

  Travis exhaled sharply. He had better things to do than get involved in a useless argument with his ex-wife. “All I’m saying is be careful with Richard, all right? He’s a user.”

  “Of course,” she said and gave Travis a demure smile. “We both know I’m too self-centered to do anything that’s ultimately going to hurt me.” She stared at him. “You, on the other hand, might be tempted to do something foolish about this cowgirl of yours.”

  “She isn’t mine.” Travis didn’t want to talk about Nell.

  “Have you heard from her since you left?”

  He sighed. “Do you mind if we talk about something else?”

  Val’s delicately shaped eyebrows lifted. “You really are taken with her, aren’t you?”

  “So what if I am?”

  “Are you going to leave it at that?”

  “Probably,” he said, his control slipping.

  “You could always write her. Or call.”
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  “And say what?”

  “Don’t look at me—you’re the one who works with words. Seems to me you should have plenty to say.” She glanced at her wrist and leaped to her feet. “Gotta run. Court this morning. ’ Bye darling.” She kissed his cheek and was out the door.

  He wasn’t going to write Nell, he decided. He would if there was anything to say, but there wasn’t. It’d be a cold day in hell before he let another woman walk all over his heart. And really, when it came right down to it, he and Nell didn’t have a thing in common. Not one damn thing.

  Well…maybe one letter to ask about the kids and Ruth. And he did plan to send Jeremy and Emma autographed books. He’d keep the letter short and sweet, thank her for putting him up, that sort of thing. One letter wouldn’t hurt. But only one.

  NELL’S GAZE FELL ON the calendar hanging on the bulletin board by the phone. If she’d calculated right, her letter to Travis should arrive in New York City that day. She’d agonized over what to say and in the end had made it a chatty friendly letter. At least that was what she hoped. Her one fear was that her real feelings shone between every line.

  Ruth walked into the kitchen. “I picked up the mail while I was in town,” she said as she set down her purse and a shopping bag. “Do we know anyone in New York City?” she asked coyly.

  Travis. Nell’s heart thumped. Because she didn’t want Ruth to know how excited she was, she casually reached for the stack of mail, sorting through the various solicitations and bills until she found the envelope. It was from Travis.

  She stared at it so long Ruth said, “Well, for heaven’s sake, girl, open it.”

  Nell didn’t need to be told twice. She ripped open the envelope, her hands shaking with eagerness. Her eyes quickly skimmed the first typed page and glanced at the second. Once she saw how much he’d written, she pulled out a chair and sat down. She read slowly, wanting to savor each word, treasure each line. Like her, he was chatty, personable, yet slightly reserved.

  “Well?” Ruth said.

  “You can read it if you want.”

  Ruth looked downright disappointed. “Are you telling me he didn’t say anything…personal?”

  “Not really.” Then again, he had, but it was between the lines, not on the surface. His letter really said that he missed her. That he was thinking of her, working too many hours, trying to get on with his life. Nell identified all this because she’d conveyed identical things to him—in what she’d written and what she hadn’t.

  “There’s a package here, as well, for Jeremy and Emma,” Ruth said.

  In her rush to read Travis’s letter Nell hadn’t noticed.

  “Are you going to write him back?” Ruth asked.

  Nell nodded, but she’d wait a couple of days first. It might look as if she’d been anxious to hear from him if she replied too soon. Despite that, she sat down at the dinner table that night and wrote him a reply. The kids each wrote a thank-you note for the autographed books, and it didn’t seem right to delay those. Since she was mailing something to him, anyway, and her letter was already written, she sent it off the next morning. It wasn’t a special trip into town; she had other errands so it worked out conveniently. Or so she told herself.

  Ruth was standing on the porch grinning from ear to ear when Nell returned. “You’ve got company,” Ruth called when she climbed out of the pickup. She glanced at the dark sedan parked near the bunkhouse.

  Ruth’s smile blossomed as Travis opened the screen door and joined her on the porch.

  “Hello, Nell,” he said, grinning.

  He wore a Stetson, faded blue jeans and rich-looking cowboy boots. He might not be a working cowboy, but he was the best-damn-looking one she’d seen in a very long while. It took all the restraint she could muster not to run straight into his arms.

  “Are you surprised?” he asked.

  She nodded, afraid she couldn’t say anything intelligible.

  “I’ll leave you two to sort everything out,” Ruth stated matter-of-factly and started toward the house.

  Her eyes pleaded with Ruth not to leave her, but the older woman was oblivious to her silent cries for help. Nell didn’t know what to think, what to say. Her heart raced, but she was afraid to read anything into Travis’s unexpected visit. Maybe he was in the area for more research or for business or…

  She walked over to the porch and sat down on the top step.

  “Mind if I join you?” he asked before he sat down next to her.

  “Of course not.”

  “You look wonderful,” he said softly.

  She nodded her thanks for the compliment. “Were you in the area…?” She had to ask.

  “No.”

  “I…I got your letter.” She wanted to tell him how excited she was when she saw it, but couldn’t manage the words.

  “I got yours, too. That’s the reason I’m here.”

  “My letter?” He must have booked the flight out of New York a minute after he’d read it.

  “You love me, Nell, don’t you?”

  She nodded slowly.

  “I love you, too,” he whispered and reached for her hand.

  “But—”

  “Hear me out,” he interrupted. “You’re about to list all the reasons it’s impossible for us to be together, but there’s nothing you can say that I haven’t thought of myself. We’re different, but it’s a good kind of different. We’re good together, a team.”

  “But—”

  “Together we solved a hundred-year-old mystery. There’s a lesson in it, too. The people who left Bitter End were looking to make a new life, a new start, and put the pain of the past behind them. I’m offering you the same opportunity—and taking advantage of it myself. We belong together, Nell. You and me and Ruth and the kids.”

  “But—”

  “I’m almost finished,” he promised and drew in a deep breath. “It’ll be a new life for all of us. I love you, Nell. I want to marry you.”

  “I can’t live in the city,” she blurted.

  “You won’t have to.”

  “You mean that?” It was almost more than she dared believe.

  “Not if you don’t want to. I can work anywhere, you know. One of the benefits of being a writer.” He paused. “So?”

  “I’ll marry you.” She’d known that the minute she saw him standing on the porch.

  “You don’t have any questions?” He seemed almost disappointed that she wasn’t going to argue with him.

  “Yeah. One.” She smiled. “Just how much longer do I have to wait for you to kiss me?”

  Within a single beat of her heart, Travis had wrapped her in his arms. His mouth was hard and hungry over hers, and Nell let herself soak in his love. He loved her, really loved her! And he was right that it was time to put aside the past and start again.

  “How soon can we arrange the wedding?” he whispered against her throat.

  “Soon,” she said.

  Travis chuckled. “But not soon enough to suit me.” Then he kissed her again.

  LONE STAR BABY

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  THE PEOPLE OF PROMISE

  Nell Bishop: thirtysomething widow with a son, Jeremy, and a daughter, Emma; her husband died in a tractor accident

  Ruth Bishop: Nell’s mother-in-law; lives with Nell and her two children

  Dovie Boyd: runs an antiques shop and has dated Sheriff Frank Hennessey for ten years

  Caroline Daniels: postmistress of Promise

  Maggie Daniels: Caroline’s five-year-old daughter

  Dr. Jane Dickinson: new doctor in Promise

  Ellie Frasier: owner of Frasier’s Feed Store

  Frank Hennessey: local sheriff

  Max Jordan: owner of Jordan’s Towne and Country

  Wade McMillen: preacher of Promise Christian Church

  Edwina and Lily Moorhouse: sisters; retired schoolteachers

  Cal and Glen Patterson: local ranchers; brothers who ranch together

  Phil and Mary Patters
on: parents of Cal and Glen; operate a local B and B

  Louise Powell: town gossip

  Wiley Rogers: sixty-year-old ranch foreman at the Weston Ranch

  Laredo Smith: wrangler hired by Savannah Weston

  Barbara and Melvin Weston: mother and father to Savannah, Grady and Richard; the Westons died six years ago

  Richard Weston: youngest of the Weston siblings

  Savannah Weston: Grady and Richard’s sister; cultivates old roses

  Grady Weston: rancher and oldest of the Weston siblings

  CHAPTER 1

  AMY THORNTON WAS OUT OF MONEY, out of luck and out of hope. Well, she had a little cash left, but her luck had definitely run out, and as for her reserves of hope—they were nonexistent. When the Greyhound bus rolled into the bowling-alley parking lot in Promise, Texas, she stayed in her seat. Disinterested and almost numb, she stared out the window.

  Promise seemed like a friendly town. June flower baskets, filled to overflowing with blooming perennials, hung from the streetlights. People stopped to chat, and there was a leisurely, almost festive atmosphere that Amy observed with yearning. Smoke wafted from a barbecue restaurant, and farther down the street, at Frasier Feed, chairs were set up next to a soda machine. A couple of men in cowboy hats and boots sat with their feet propped against the railing; they appeared to find something highly humorous. One of them threw back his head, laughing boisterously. His amusement was contagious and Amy found herself smiling, too.

  A couple of people boarded the bus. As soon as they’d taken their seats, the bus doors closed. “Next stop is Brewster,” the driver announced.

  “Excuse me!” Amy cried, and surprised herself by leaping to her feet. “I want to get off here.”

  “Here?” The driver looked at her as if he thought he’d misunderstood. The bus had sat there for fifteen minutes without her saying a word.

  “Yes,” she said as though Promise had been her destination all along. “I’ll need my suitcase.”

 

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