Heart of Texas Vol. 2

by Debbie Macomber

  The silence out here took time to accept. At first she’d felt the need to fill their rides with chatter, but as she spent more and more time around Cal, she’d begun to appreciate the lack of sound, to stop fearing it. Cal, by his own ad mission, wasn’t much of a talker. He’d shown her that silence had its own sound, but with the frantic pace of her life, she’d been unable to hear it.

  They dismounted, and the two horses drank from the creek. Jane walked over to an oak and leaned against the trunk, one leg bent. Cal picked a handful of wild flowers and handed her the small bouquet.

  She rewarded him with a kiss on his cheek. From the way his eyes flared she knew he would’ve liked to kiss her properly. They’d done plenty of that lately, their attraction growing each time they met. Cal backed away from her now, as if that would help remove him from temptation.

  “Tell me what it means to be a rancher,” she said.

  His gaze held hers. “In what way?”

  “I want to know about cattle.”

  He frowned, then squatted down and plucked a blade of grass. “A good cowboy can tell just by looking at a cow if she’s healthy. Her coat’ll tell him if she’s eating right. The eyes let him know if she’s in any kind of trouble.”

  Jane gave him an encouraging nod. “Go on.”

  “It’s gotten to the point where I can look at a heifer and know when she’s ready to spill her first calf,” Cal continued. “And one glance at a calf’ll tell me if it’s suckled that day or been separated from its mother.”

  Jane was fascinated. “Tell me more.”

  “It’s said some folks don’t forget a face. A good rancher doesn’t forget a cow.”

  “You’re joking, right?”

  His smile told her he wasn’t. “They have their own personalities, and they’re as individual as you and me. I know that the old cow with the missing horn likes to hide in the willow trees, and the one with a patch of white on its backside is a leader. That one with a cut ear—” he pointed “—is likely to charge a horse and rider.

  “My job, if that’s what you’re asking, is to care for the cows. The cows then tend the calves, and trust me, each cow knows her own calf. She can pick out her baby in a herd of hundreds.”

  Jane was astonished but didn’t doubt him for a second.

  “Cows are constantly on my mind,” he said, then cast her a look and added, “or used to be.”

  She felt a warm glow and smiled.

  “I think about them morning, noon and night,” he went on. “I watch them, study them, and work hard to improve the quality of the herd.”

  “How do you do that?”

  “Every year is a gamble. Weather, disease, the price of beef. With so many things that can go wrong, I cut my losses early and often. If a heifer doesn’t breed, she’s sold, or if she calves late, she might not get a second chance. I expect a cow to deliver nine calves in nine years, and if she skips a year, I sell her. That might sound harsh, and I often agonize over these decisions. My cattle are more than a commodity to me. The future of Lonesome Coyote is based on the everyday decisions Glen and I make.”

  Jane had no idea ranching was so complicated. It was a consuming life that required not only hard physical work but research, complex decision-making and business skills.

  “Glen and I, along with Grady, have been doing quite a bit of cross-breeding in the past few years, mostly with long-horns. Breeding exceptional cattle isn’t as easy as it sounds. Despite the use of artificial insemination and genetics, it’s an inexact science that relies on good stock, good weather and good luck.” He grinned. “Hey, stop me if I’m lecturing. This is more talking than I normally do in a month.”

  Jane grinned back. “I hadn’t realized there were so many breeds of cattle—although I guess I associate long horns with Texas.”

  “At one time there were more than six million long horns in Texas, but by the late 1920s, they were close to extinction.”

  “I read that they were making a comeback.”

  Cal nodded. “They are.” He de scribed his cross-breeding program in some detail, and Jane found herself listening avidly to every word. Biology had—naturally—always interested her.

  “Cal, I’ve really enjoyed hearing all this.”

  His eyes narrowed as if he wasn’t sure he should believe her.

  “I’m coming to love Texas,” she said happily. And Cal Patterson, too, but she kept those feelings buried for now, fearing what would happen if she acknowledged how she felt.

  “What about California?”

  “It’s my home—I love it, too.”

  “You’ll go back,” he said, his face tightening.

  It seemed as if he was challenging her to deny it. Jane didn’t, but every day California seemed farther and farther away. Her life was here in Texas now. After years of planning to go into partnership with her uncle Ken, she found the thought starting to lose its appeal. Promise needed her, and she was only beginning to understand why she needed Promise.

  “It’s time we headed back,” Cal said and went to collect the horses.

  “What did Grady and Savannah say about Bitter End?” she blurted, anxious to know.

  Cal stopped. “They both tried to talk me out of taking you there.”

  “Did they succeed?”

  He took a long time to answer. “I know you. You’re determined to find that town with or without me. You told me as much. And after what they said, I’m inclined to let you try.”

  “You will take me there, won’t you, Cal?” she asked, nervous about his response.

  He nodded. “When’s your next day off?”

  “Wednesday.”

  “We’ll go then.”

  “Thank you. Oh, thank you!” She raced toward him, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

  He groaned. “I swear you’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered.

  “But I promise it’ll be a great way to die.”

  THE ACHE INSIDE DOVIE refused to go away. When she hadn’t seen or heard from Frank in several days, she’d been almost glad. Every time he came to visit her, it was more and more difficult to send him away. She was afraid that her resolve was weakening. She missed him, missed their times together and the companionship they’d shared. She’d never felt more alone, not even after Marvin had died.

  Despite his talk, the last thing she expected Frank to do was go out with another woman, especially this soon. It told her everything she needed to know. Seeing him with Tammy Lee had been one of the most disheartening experiences of her life.

  Dovie hated to think unkindly about anyone, but Tammy Lee and Louise Powell were enough to try the patience of a saint. From the way Tammy Lee was clinging to Frank, massaging his back, rubbing her leg down his calf, Dovie realized they’d already become lovers. The thought cut with the sharpness of a knife, and she braced herself against the pain.

  The fact that business was slow was a blessing in disguise. In her current state of mind, Dovie was practically useless. She wandered around her shop, unable to sit still, unable to think clearly. Her eyes would start to water for no reason, and somehow it always surprised her; she thought she’d cried all the tears left inside her.

  Frank was out of her life once and for all.

  The bell above the shop door tinkled and Louise Powell casually strolled in wearing a smug look.

  Dovie groaned inwardly. “Hello, Louise,” she said, determined to reveal none of her feelings.

  “Oh, hello, Dovie.” The woman bestowed a saccharine-sweet smile on her.

  “Is there anything I can help you find?” she asked, silently praying that whatever Louise wanted was out of stock so she’d leave.

  “I’m just browsing,” Louise said, wandering from one display to another. She picked up a pair of Kirks Folly earrings and held them to her face, examining her reflection in the mirror. “Nice,” she said, then glanced at the price, raised a brow and set them back down.

  “I don’t suppose you have any of thos
e rubber piles of dog do-do? They make the funniest practical jokes.”

  “I’m afraid not,” Dovie said. As if she’d actually sell such an outrageous item!

  “Hmm,” Louise murmured. “So how are you doing these days, Dovie?”

  “Wonderful.” Dovie gritted her teeth.

  “I understand you’re leaving on your cruise soon?”

  Dovie was looking forward to it more every day. “Yes.”

  “It must be coming up next week.”

  Dovie wondered how Louise knew this. “That’s right.”

  “With Frank out of your life, I imagine you’re hoping to meet another man.”

  Dovie said nothing.

  “It’s a shame, really,” Louise said. “I always thought you and Frank made a handsome couple.”

  Again Dovie said nothing.

  “But your loss appears to be Tammy Lee’s gain.”

  Dovie’s nails bit into her palms. “I wish them both well,” she said.

  Louise shook her head. “You’re a marvel, Dovie, a real marvel. I don’t know if I could be nearly as magnanimous. Tammy Lee was afraid you were offended about her going out with Frank, but I can see that isn’t so. You’re the picture of generosity.”

  Dovie forced a smile and hoped Louise didn’t notice how brittle it was.

  “Tammy Lee’s without a man right now,” Louise rambled on, “and she’s thrilled to be dating Frank. He’s such an attractive man.”

  “Yes, he is.” Dovie eased her way toward the front door. Fortunately Louise followed.

  “It was good seeing you again,” Louise said.

  “You, too,” Dovie lied.

  Louise left and Dovie sank into a chair. The knot was back in the pit of her stomach, and she wondered if it’d ever go away.

  That evening Dovie fixed herself a salad but had no appetite. Her home, after thirty years in the same place, suddenly felt too large. Perhaps this was a sign she was ready for a change, a drastic one. She’d been born and raised in Promise, and she’d seen precious little of the world. The upcoming cruise would give her a sample of what life was like outside the great state of Texas, but the cruise was only a few days long. Afterward she’d be back dealing with people like Louise, who relished rubbing Frank’s new relationship in her face.

  Dovie didn’t know if she could bear it. For the first time in her life she seriously considered moving. With the money from the sale of her home and business, plus what was left of Marvin’s life insurance, she could live comfortably. Nothing else held her in Promise. She’d stay in touch with the friends she had and make new ones.

  The phone rang. Absently Dovie reached for it, studying her home with fresh eyes, wondering how long it would take to sell.

  “Hello, Dovie.”

  The shock of hearing Frank’s voice was nearly her undoing. She grabbed hold of the kitchen chair, feeling as though she might faint.

  “Frank.”

  The telephone line hummed with silence.

  “How are you?” Frank asked tentatively as if he didn’t know what to say.

  She was at a loss about how to respond and decided on a lie, doubting he wanted the truth. “Good, and you?”

  “All right. Mostly I was phoning to see if you needed anything.”

  A new heart to replace the one you stabbed, she answered silently. “I…don’t need anything,” she said. “Thank you for asking.”

  Frank said nothing for a moment. “About the other night…I thought I should explain.”

  “Frank,” she said swiftly, “please, there’s no need to explain anything to me.”

  “But I thought—”

  “No, please. I prefer not to know.”

  “But, Dovie—”

  “Whom you date is none of my business. I knew when we parted—when we decided we were at an impasse—that you’d be seeking…companionship else where.” Only, she’d credited him with more taste.

  “You’re the one taking the cruise,” he reminded her, the coolness in his voice testifying to his displeasure.

  Dovie had nothing to say about her vacation plans, especially not to Frank.

  “I’ve heard about those cruises,” Frank continued. “I’ve seen reruns of Love Boat. People book those fancy liners looking for romance.”

  “I’m sure that’s true in some cases.” Not in hers, however. Now seemed as good a time as any to put his mind to rest regarding the future. “I’ve been giving some thought to…to making certain changes in my life.”

  “I’m hoping you’re about to tell me you want me back.” His eagerness was certainly a balm to her wounded pride.

  “No, Frank.”

  “You’re going to be looking for another man, right?” he accused.

  “No, Frank,” she repeated. “I’m not seeking out a new romantic interest.” Unlike you—but she refused to say it. “I’m thinking of selling the house and moving.”

  Her words were met with silence, then, “You don’t mean it!”

  “Yes, Frank, I do.”

  “But why?”

  “You have to admit it’s very awkward for us both. You’re dating again now and—”

  “One date, Dovie. I swear to you that’s all it was.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “I don’t even like Tammy Lee.”

  But there were bound to be others. Dovie didn’t know if she had the strength to stand back and smile while the man she loved became involved with another woman. The only thing worse than seeing Frank with someone like Tammy Lee would be seeing him with someone who could be right for him. A woman who’d love him the way she did.

  “What about your antique shop?” he asked. “You care about that store. It took you years to put everything together, and now you’ve added the Victorian Tea Room.”

  “I’ll have to sell it—either that or close it down.”

  “But the women in town love your store!”

  “Then perhaps one of them will be willing to purchase it.”

  “You don’t mean it,” Frank said again, his voice rising. “This is just another ploy to get me to change my mind and marry you.”

  That he would believe her capable of such a thing hurt. “No, Frank, it’s not. I’m contacting the real estate people in the morning. Perhaps I shouldn’t have mentioned it, but I felt you should know. Goodbye, Frank.”

  “I’m not going to marry you or anyone,” he shouted as if she was hard of hearing.

  “Yes, you’ve made that quite clear.” At this point, if he had experienced a sudden change of heart, Dovie wasn’t sure she’d agree to marry him, anyway.

  CAL WASN’T HAPPY WITH THE IDEA of finding Bitter End and he wouldn’t be going there now, but for Jane.

  He drove into Promise, hoping that when he arrived she’d have changed her mind, but one look told him he might as well save his breath. Jane opened the front door, and when she saw him, practically launched herself into his arms.

  “I’m so excited!” she said, hugging him.

  It was be ginning to feel damn good to hold her. Be ginning, hell, it felt like this was exactly where she belonged. Once again Cal forced himself to remember that Jane would put in her stint here, but when her three years were up, she’d return to California.

  “I spent part of the morning with Savannah,” he said and withdrew a slip of paper from his shirt pocket. “She drew me a map showing us how to get to Bitter End.”

  “That’s wonderful!”

  Cal didn’t agree.

  “You’re sure you’d rather drive?” She sounded disappointed that they wouldn’t be going on horse back.

  “I’m sure.” He spread the map on top of the coffee table for her to examine.

  She pored over it and then smiled up at him with such enthusiasm it was difficult not to feel some excitement himself. The problem was, Jane didn’t understand what she was asking of him, and he couldn’t find the words to explain it.

  He’d seen the ghost town once, and that was all it had taken for h
im to know he never wanted to go back there. As teenagers, he and Glen and Grady had happened to overhear a conversation between his parents and the Westons. They’d been intrigued. Just as Jane was now.

  They’d come up with a scheme to locate Bitter End on their own. The adventure had appealed to them; the secrecy, too. Cal remembered that he’d been the skeptical one of the bunch. He wasn’t sure he believed such a place existed. Glen seemed convinced the ghost town was there. Grady was undecided.

  In the end it was Glen who turned out to be right. The old town was hidden deep in the hills, just as his parents had said. At first the three of them had been ecstatic, jumping up and down, congratulating each other. Cal remembered thinking that someone would probably include their names in a history book or a magazine article—as the boys who’d found a lost ghost town. Someone might even inter view them for television.

  None of that had happened—and for a reason. Not one of them ever mentioned finding Bitter End to any of their peers and certainly not to their parents. In fact, they’d never mentioned it again—until recently.

  It was almost as though they’d made a secret pact not to discuss what they’d found, but that hadn’t been the case. They didn’t talk about it because they weren’t sure what had happened or how to explain it.

  All Cal could recall was how uncomfortable he’d been. How the feelings of fear and oppressiveness had over whelmed him. The others had reacted the same way. After less than ten minutes all three had high tailed it out of town as if the hounds of hell were in hot pursuit.

  “Should I bring a sweater?” Jane asked.

  “That’s probably a good idea.” Cal wished he could talk her out of this, but since that wasn’t likely, he was determined to be there with her.

  “I brought along a camera, too,” Jane said as she swung a backpack over her shoulder. “Mom asked me to get some pictures.”

  “You mentioned the town to your mother?”

  “Wasn’t I supposed to?”

  Cal wasn’t sure how to answer. “No one around here talks about it much.”