Heaven, Texas

by Susan Elizabeth Phillips

  To give Bruno credit, the women were stunners, but Bobby Tom couldn’t work up a speck of interest in any one of them. They were wearing their own versions of authentic Western dress: Amber in shrink-wrapped jeans and a bandanna top with a sheriffs badge nestled in her cleavage, Payton in a saloon girl’s costume cut down to her navel, and Charmaine in a cowgirl skirt made entirely out of fringe. When he caught a glimpse of Gracie dressed in the same prim yellow gingham outfit she’d worn to the birthplace dedication yesterday morning, he couldn’t help think she looked better than all three of them put together, an observation that did nothing to improve his mood.

  The hoedown was being held at a ranch several miles out of town, and it was a semiprivate affair for the participants in the golf tournament, the Blood Moon people, and the Heavenfest committee members, which made up a large portion of the town. At Bobby Tom’s insistence, the gathering had been closed to tourists so the celebrities could have a real party without being hounded to death for autographs, something all the locals had been forbidden to do. The only formal event of the evening was a presentation ceremony where Bobby Tom would recognize the winners of the golf tournament. The tourists, in the meantime, hadn’t been forgotten, and the locals would be coming and going throughout the evening to make certain the events in town were running smoothly: the amusement park rides at the rodeo arena, the country and western bands, the food concessions.

  The trees around the ranch house had been strung with colorful lights, and a temporary dance floor had been erected near the barn, along with a small, bunting-draped platform for the presentation ceremony. Once again, Bobby Tom’s gaze made its way to the table off to the side of the dance floor, where Gracie was selling raffle tickets for the patchwork quilt handmade by the Arbor Hills residents, and the sight of her filled him with such a painful rush of emotion he quickly looked away.

  “Hey, B.T., you seemed to have had a little trouble on the back nine today.” Buddy ambled up with Terry Jo at his side, both of them in jeans and Western shirts, holding plastic cups of beer in their hands.

  “The front nine, too,” Terry Jo said, shooting a malevolent look at the sex trophies and then eyeing Bobby Tom. “Entertain B.T.’s love children for a minute, will you, Buddy? Me and Mr. Hotshot need to have us a talk.”

  The last thing Bobby Tom wanted at that moment was a private conversation with Terry Jo, but she didn’t give him much choice as she grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the others toward the fence. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she demanded, the minute they were out of earshot. “You know what you’re doing to Gracie, don’t you, breaking your engagement like that?”

  He regarded her indignantly. “Did she say I broke our engagement?”

  “She didn’t say hardly anything when I talked to her this morning, just that the two of you reached a mutual decision to end your relationship.”

  “And you assumed that meant I ended it.”

  “Didn’t you?”

  “Hell, no.”

  “Are you saying Gracie dumped you?”

  He saw too late the trap he’d laid for himself.

  “ ‘Course not. Nobody dumps me.”

  “She did, didn’t she? She dumped you! Holy Moses! A person of the female species finally gave Bobby Tom Denton back a little bit of what he’s been giving out.” Grinning widely, she lifted her face to the heavens. “Thank you, Jesus!”

  “Will you stop that! She didn’t dump me. Haven’t you figured out by now that we were never really engaged! It was just a ploy to keep everybody off my back while I was in town.” The fact that Terry Jo was making a joke out of this hurt in a way he couldn’t express.

  “Of course you were engaged. A blind fool could see the two of you love each other.”

  “We do not! Well, maybe she loves me, but . . . I care about her. Who wouldn’t? She’s about the best kind of woman there is. But, love? She’s not my type, Terry Jo.”

  Terry Jo gave him a long, steady gaze. “It’s amazing. You don’t know any more about women now than you did in high school when you threw me over for Sherri Hopper.” She regarded him sadly. “When are you going to grow up, Bobby Tom?”

  Without another word, she walked away from him. He stared at her back with a combination of resentment and misery. Why did she act like this was his fault? And when had his life gotten so screwed up? Until recently he’d thought it was the day he blew out his knee, but now he wondered if the real catastrophe hadn’t struck the night Gracie showed up at his house with her striptease.

  Natalie walked up to him with Anton, who was carrying Elvis. As he greeted them, he thought what a beautiful woman she was. Nice, too. He’d seen her buck naked, kissed her for hours on end. She’d leaked on him, wrestled with him, shot at him, and just yesterday they’d had to jump in the river together. He and Natalie had been through a lot, but he didn’t feel close to her, not even half as close as he felt to Gracie.

  The three of them chatted for a couple of minutes, and the next thing he knew he was holding Elvis so his parents could dance. The baby grabbed for the brim of his Stetson, and when he couldn’t reach that, settled for sucking on one end of the black silk scarf Bobby Tom had tied around his neck. Although he’d always been particular about his clothes, he couldn’t work up enough energy to rescue it. The baby smelled sweet and clean, and he felt a queer ache deep inside.

  The sex trophies were coming toward him, but he pretended he didn’t see them and ducked behind one of the outbuildings just so he could have a few minutes to pull himself back together. Elvis started sucking on his shirt collar. As he emerged near one of the food tables, he saw his mother standing about ten yards away. She was dressed in a long dark skirt and a prim white schoolmarm’s blouse fastened at the neck with his grandmother’s old cameo brooch. He stiffened as he watched Way Sawyer approach her. At the same time he noted that Way looked like the real thing in faded jeans, a beat-up hat, old boots, and a flannel shirt.

  His mother acted as if she were about to jump out of her skin when she saw Sawyer. He put his hand on her shoulder, and Bobby Tom tensed, ready to spring to her aid until he noticed that her whole body had gone slack.

  For a moment, he had the sickening feeling she was going to lean against Sawyer, but then her back stiffened, and she walked away.

  Way stood there without moving. When he finally turned, Bobby Tom saw such raw despair on his face that he knew he would never forget it. He tightened his hold on the baby and felt himself start to sweat. What was wrong with him? Why did he feel as if he and Way Sawyer were suddenly brothers?

  “You’re breaking Bobby Tom’s heart,” Terry Jo hissed, as she drew Gracie from the table where she’d been selling raffle tickets and continued the lecture that had begun some minutes earlier. “How can you walk away from him like this?”

  Although Gracie was seldom sarcastic, the three willowy blondes who were once again hanging on Bobby Tom’s arm had breached her defenses. “He certainly looks heartbroken.”

  “He doesn’t care about those bimbos, and you know it. He cares about you.”

  “Caring is a long way from loving.” She watched as one of the beauties tipped her beer cup to his lips. She didn’t know which was more painful: watching him earlier when he had been holding Elvis or seeing him now with those incredible women. “It just hurts too much to stay around him any longer.”

  Terry Jo showed no sympathy. “Anything worth having is worth fighting for. I thought you had more grit than this, but I keep forgetting you’re a Yankee.”

  “I don’t understand why you’re so outraged. Everybody’s been telling me from the day I got here that I’m not his type.”

  “That’s true. But it’s like Bobby Tom kept saying, ‘There’s no accounting for the mysteries of the human heart.’ ”

  “He was putting people on when he said that! Surely you know that most of what comes out of his mouth is a complete fabrication.”

  Terry Jo got huffy. “It is not. Bobby Tom Denton i
s one of the most sincere people I’ve ever met.”

  “Ha!”

  “For somebody who’s in love with him, you sure are critical.”

  “Just because I love him doesn’t mean I’m blind.” She drew away. “I’ve got to get back to the table.”

  “No, you don’t. Suzy’s bridge club is taking over for the rest of the evening. You get out there and have a good time. Show him he can’t manipulate you like this because that’s what he’s doing, and everybody knows it.”

  As if Terry Jo had commanded it, Ray Bevins, one of the cameramen from Blood Moon, appeared at Gracie’s side. “I’ve been waiting all evening for you to finish up so we could dance, Gracie.”

  Gracie ignored Terry Jo’s encouraging smile. “I’m sorry, Ray, but I’m not feeling too much like dancing tonight.”

  “Yeah, I heard you and Bobby Tom broke up. Seems like he’s doing his best to make you jealous.”

  “He’s just being himself.”

  “You shouldn’t let him manipulate you like that. All the guys on the crew like Bobby Tom, but I guess it’s no secret that some of us have more than a friendly interest in you. We flipped to see who got to dance with you first, and I won.”

  She gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you, but, to be honest, I just don’t have the heart for it.” Before either Ray or Terry Jo could press her, she slipped away from them into the crowd. It was nice to know some of the men found her desirable, but she simply didn’t have the ability to be sociable tonight.

  She slumped down in a seat at the wooden picnic table where Natalie and Anton had parked all of Elvis’s gear. Only after she was settled did she realize that her position gave her a clear view of Bobby Tom standing in the middle of a herd of women. He looked as if he were having the time of his life, laughing and carrying on, obviously enjoying the fact that he was now a free man. One of the women hand-fed him taco chips, while another rubbed up against his arm. Almost as if he could feel Gracie watching, he lifted his head and turned, letting his gaze sweep over her. Their eyes locked, and for a moment neither of them moved. Then he smiled at the woman standing beside him. As Gracie watched, he dropped his head and gave her a slow, deliberate kiss.

  If he’d wanted to cause her additional pain, he couldn’t have found a better way. He cupped the back of the woman’s head in his hand, and as he deepened the kiss, she remembered exactly the way it felt. I own that mouth! she wanted to cry out.

  Several athletes she recognized from the dinner last night approached him, and before long he was entertaining them with what must have been a very funny story, judging by their reactions. At the same time, he kept his arms draped around two of the women. She knew better than anyone how charming he could be, and it wasn’t long before a small crowd gathered to listen to him.

  “Toolee Chandler told me if I bought ten raffle tickets, she’d throw in a dance with you.” Her head shot up, and she saw Way Sawyer standing next to her, a fan of raffle tickets in his hand.

  She smiled. “I appreciate the support, but I don’t feel much like dancing.”

  He extended his hand and drew her to her feet. “Come on, Gracie. You look like a whipped puppy.”

  “I’m not very good at hiding my feelings.”

  “That’s not exactly big news.” He looped an arm around her shoulders, and, to her shock, planted a kiss square on her mouth. She was so surprised she was speechless.

  “That,” he grinned, “is going to drive Bobby Tom Denton right over the edge.”

  Firmly taking command, he drew her onto the dance floor. The band was playing a ballad, and he pulled her close to his chest, where she felt so comfortable she wanted to close her eyes and rest her head.

  “You’re a nice man,” she said. “I knew it all along.”

  “Even before I made the announcement about Rosatech?”

  “I never for a minute thought you’d close it. All anyone had to do was look at you and they could have figured that out.”

  His chest rumbled with a low chuckle. They danced for a while in silence, and then she felt an almost imperceptible tensing of his muscles. She followed the direction of his gaze and saw Suzy pass by, dancing with Buddy Baines. She gazed up at him and saw how sad he looked.

  “Bobby Tom’s not being deliberately cruel, you know,” she said softly. “He’s very protective of her. Sooner or later he’s going to come to his senses.”

  “You do have an optimistic view of human nature.” He steered them to another part of the dance floor, changing the subject at the same time. “People are going to be sorry to see you leave. You’ve done more good in this town in a short time than most of them have done in their lives.”

  She was genuinely astonished. “I haven’t done anything.”

  “Is that so? Let me see if I’ve got this right. You’ve formed a volunteer organization to improve the facilities at Arbor Hill as well as set up a recreational program there. It was your idea to establish a senior citizens center. I also hear that you’ve spent a lot of time at Arbor Hills just visiting with some lonely people. I guess, in my mind, that counts for a lot more than somebody who hasn’t done any more with his life than win football games.”

  She started to protest. Bobby Tom gave to others in countless ways, both money and his time. But then she stopped herself. Mr. Sawyer wasn’t talking about Bobby Tom; he was talking about her. And he was right.

  When had she gotten into the habit of viewing her own accomplishments as being so much less important than anyone else’s? Was seeing to the comfort of the elderly of less value than being blessed with good looks and natural charm? She felt oddly disoriented. It was as if a door she hadn’t even known existed had swung open, giving her a fresh look at herself, a look that was suddenly uncluttered by the emotional baggage she’d carried around all her life. She had friends, people who cared about her, and she did her best to live her life by the Golden Rule.

  But she had grown so used to being satisfied with very little. From the day she’d met Bobby Tom, she’d felt lucky to receive whatever small crumbs of affection he’d deigned to toss her way. But that wasn’t how it should be. She was worthy of something more than another person’s emotional leftovers.

  The dance came to an end, and a terrible sadness swept over her. There was nothing wrong with her at all. She was the best person she knew how to be, and she was more than worthy of Bobby Tom Denton’s love. But he would never understand that, just as he would never understand the value of what he was throwing away.

  Bobby Tom palmed the sex trophies off on a couple of the Phoenix Suns so he could talk to his mother. “I believe you’ve been saving this dance for me.”

  “I’m sure I have it somewhere on my dance card.” Suzy smiled as he took her hand, and they walked out onto the wooden floor together.

  They were both good dancers—he’d learned how from her—and for a while they moved without talking in the rhythm of the two-step, but he didn’t enjoy it as he normally would have. Gracie hadn’t stopped dancing with one man or another since Way Sawyer had kissed her. His jaw clenched at the memory.

  Although it was difficult, he forced himself to set aside his own unhappiness for the moment and do what he should have done as soon as he got back from San Antone, what he’d secretly known he had to do last night when he’d seen how his mom and Sawyer had looked at each other at the country club.

  “Mom, we’ve got to talk about what’s happening with you, and this time I’m not going to let you put me off with gardening tips and cruise brochures.”

  Her spine stiffened under his hand. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “You know, don’t you, that I miss him, too.”

  “I know. He loved you so much.”

  “He was a great father.”

  She lifted one eyebrow as she looked up at him. “Do you realize by the time he was your age, he already had a fourteen-year-old son?”

  “Uhmm.”

  Her forehead creased in a frown. “What happene
d with you and Gracie? And why did you bring those dreadful women tonight?”

  “Nothing happened. You know all that engagement stuff was phony, so don’t act as if the fact that we’re splitting up is some big tragedy.”

  “I got used to thinking of the two of you as a couple. I guess I’d started to believe you really were getting married.”

  He gave a snort to cover his discomfort. “Mom, can you honestly see Gracie and me married?”

  “Oh, yes, I can see it quite easily. I admit I couldn’t at first, but after I got to know Gracie, I thought she was perfect for you, especially when I saw how happy she made you.”

  “That wasn’t happiness. I was just laughing at her, is all, because half the time she’s so ridiculous.”

  She looked at him, slowly shook her head, then rested her cheek against his chest for a moment. “I worry about you, sweetie pie. I really do.”

  “Well, I worry about you, too, so we’re even.” On the other side of the dance floor, he saw Gracie glide by with Dan Calebow. His former coach seemed to be having a wonderful time. Dan’s wife Phoebe, in the meantime, was dancing with Luther Baines, who was trying hard to keep his eyes off her bust line. “Mom, we’ve got to talk about this thing with you and Sawyer.”

  “His name is Wayland. And there isn’t any ‘thing’ to talk about.”

  “That’s not what he tells me.”

  Her eyes flashed. “Did he talk to you? He had no right to do that.”

  “He wants me to play Cupid and get the two of you together.”

  “I can’t believe he talked to you.”

  “The two of us rub each other wrong, so it wasn’t the pleasantest conversation I’ve ever had. Still, I’m not the one who fell in love with him, so I guess that doesn’t matter.”

  He waited for her to deny what he’d just said. He prayed her forehead would crinkle and she’d get indignant, but, instead, she turned her head away. “He had no right to involve you.”