Sawyer had been in Japan and it had been almost two months since he’d seen her, time enough for Rand to think, to really face the fact that while he loved Sawyer Coleman, he was not in love with her. He hated to think of himself as capricious, and in his heart he knew he wasn’t, but time had a way of changing people, often against their will. His time with Sawyer had been wonderful. They’d had so much in common, working on designs and specifications for her grandfather’s aircraft. Common goals, loving the same people, seeing things the same way. But the goals had been won, and loving the same people and being involved in the same family wasn’t enough. Now Sawyer had new goals to conquer, and she would embrace them the way she embraced all of life—with humor and gusto and a sense of adventure.
Rand ordered a fresh drink and lit the last cigarette in the pack. The minutes on the clock over the bar ticked away. Soon the plane from San Francisco would arrive. Soon he’d have to look into Sawyer’s crystal-gray eyes. What would she see in his own?
Perhaps Sawyer would argue that he was “dropping out,” but Rand knew he wasn’t. He simply wanted time to himself, to reap the rewards of his hard work. There were things he’d always dreamed about but could never find the time to indulge: fishing, hunting, and yes, even planting that garden and watching it come to fruit. Books, pleasure trips, refurbishing the four antique automobiles he’d collected. But most of all he wanted time for the people he loved, those involving relationships he’d been unable to develop as he’d run from one airport to the other.
Rand stubbed out his cigarette and paid his bar tab. His tip was overgenerous. If Sawyer had been here, she would have computed the bill and stuck the overage in his breast pocket. Sawyer did things by the book. Rebelliously, Rand placed another dollar on the table. A weary waitress working a dull shift on the Fourth of July needed a little extra. She’d probably missed her family barbecue in order to work today. All Texans went to a barbecue on the Fourth.
Crossing the terminal, he passed a monitor. The blinking words “at the gate” meant Sawyer’s plane was in and she and Riley would be deplaning. His step quickened and he straightened his tie. Then he smoothed his tousled thatch of wheat-gold hair. If only he were happy to see her again, if only he didn’t feel like a first-class rat. Worse, a coward.
She was beautiful, tall and slim as a fashion model. Men turned for a second appreciative glance; women envied her graceful, long-legged stride. Those incredibly long, shapely legs were bringing her closer and closer. Rand hardly noticed the tall young man beside her. This was Sawyer: brilliant gray eyes, clear pink skin, and generous smile that lit her surroundings. Bright and fresh, her skirt barely wrinkled, every sleek blond hair in place despite the intolerably long trip from Tokyo.
Sawyer stepped into his arms; her soft lips found his. He responded lightly, wishing his heart would stop its furious pounding, wishing she wouldn’t look at him with such open-hearted love.
“I missed you, Rand. We have a lot of time to make up,” she whispered, then drew back and looked into his eyes. Whatever she saw there seemed to satisfy her. “Riley!” she said. “We’re almost forgetting you!”
“You must have grown a foot since I saw you last, Riley,” Rand said, stretching out his hand.
“He’s cropping out at six feet and still growing; what do you think of that?” Sawyer beamed like a proud mother.
“It’s uncanny how much like your father you are. You’re even built like him.”
“I could hardly believe it myself.” Sawyer laughed. “He was just a little twerp when we saw him last, and now look at him! There’s a picture at Sunbridge of Grandpap and Riley when he was this age. I’m going to hang a picture of you right beside them. I’m embarrassing you, Riley. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Riley smiled. “I’m used to you by now. I weigh in at one sixty; she usually mentions that next,” he said to Rand. “How are you, sir? It’s been a while.”
“Too long.” Rand clasped the boy’s hand. “I was awfully sorry to hear about your mother, Riley. This must be a difficult time for you.”
“Thank you, sir.” The grief was there, clouding the clear nutmeg-colored eyes, but the chin was firm, the voice steady.
Sawyer took a playful swipe at her cousin. “I can’t wait till Grand sees you! She’s going to flip out. You were a plump little sushi roll when she saw you last!”
“Come on, let’s get your baggage,” Rand said. “Have you been embarrassing this lad all the way from Tokyo?”
“I don’t mind.” Riley smiled. “Which way to the baggage area?”
Riley followed behind Sawyer and Rand, glad to be in the company of people as tall as himself. It had been getting difficult in Japan. Towering over almost everyone else brought attention to himself, and at the age of sixteen going on seventeen, being conspicuous was the last thing Riley wanted. He was tall like his father, and had become the butt of much good-natured ribbing. It always pleased him when comparisons were made to his father, and he took pride in the resemblance. He’d inherited his strong profile and well-defined nose from his great-grandfather Seth; and he knew his smile and thick crop of fine black hair, which bore a tendency to wave, also came from his American background. Only his eyes revealed his Oriental heritage. Because of his height and build, people often mistook him for Hawaiian. Sawyer told him not to fight it when his ancestry was mistaken. “Eventually, people accept you for who you are, not what you are,” she’d said. “People who matter, anyway.”
On the ride to Sunbridge, Sawyer carried much of the conversation, telling Rand about the business meetings she’d had in Tokyo and their fruitful outcome. There was a tenseness in Rand’s shoulders; Riley could see that his eyes never left the road to smile at Sawyer’s jokes. And even though he laughed, there was something hollow in the sound. Sawyer was trying too hard to be amusing, reaching over too frequently to smooth Rand’s hand or rub her palm against his cheek.
By the time they reached the turnoff for Sunbridge, Riley could feel the tension in his own shoulders. Sunbridge, an ancestral home. His father’s roots were here. But were his? He hoped it hadn’t been a mistake to come here. What if he was viewed as a burden? Perhaps Maggie had just been doing what she thought was her duty. Maybe resembling his father as he did would make everyone uncomfortable. He wished he knew. Traveling halfway around the world to come to Sunbridge had been difficult, especially since it meant leaving his mother’s family. His Japanese grandfather would be terribly disappointed in him if his stay in America wasn’t a success. “Knowing only one side of your ancestors is knowing only one-half of yourself,” the old one had counseled.
The “old one.” Riley smiled to himself. It was the name Grandpa Hasegawa preferred. It denoted wisdom and respect in the traditional Japanese manner. Japanese . . . American . . . who was he?
He looked American, from the top of his billed baseball cap to his scuffed Adidas. Sawyer had assured him it was all right to travel in jeans. The button-down plaid shirt was his own attempt at dressing up. The cap had belonged to his father, and it was never off his head, except when he ate and slept.
Riley couldn’t wait to meet his cousin Cole. They’d eat American pizza, hot dogs, tacos, and burritos. For starters. Listening to rock music was his second-favorite pastime. Maybe he and Cole could go to a rock concert together. He could almost picture them walking through the crowd looking for chicks. All American boys were after chicks. Riley frowned. Girls shouldn’t be called “chicks,” but he was going to have to adapt. A girl was a girl in any language, and the universal response was always a smile. Sawyer told him he had a smile that would knock girls dead. He grinned to himself.
Sunbridge land. Rolling green hills, crisp and clean and sharp, as though painted on canvas. He particularly liked the tumbleweeds and remembered the way he’d chased them across the lawn on his last visit.
He wasn’t visiting now. He was to make this his home, the old one had said. He’d always known he’d come back here someday, but he ha
dn’t expected it so soon. If his mother hadn’t been killed, he’d still be in Japan attending the university. This is what she would have wanted for him, the old one had said. The old man had cried at the airport, his stoic Japanese resolve abandoning him. Riley had shed tears of his own, but not until he’d gone to the restroom on the plane. He missed Tokyo already; he missed the old one.
Sawyer leaned over the back seat. “So, what do you think? Has Texas changed?”
“It looks the same to me, just as beautiful. I always expect to see men on horseback come galloping along.”
Sawyer laughed. “They only do that in the movies. Another mile or so and we’ll be there. A bit anxious, eh?”
“A little,” Riley admitted.
“The one thing you can count on, Riley, is that Sunbridge will never change. Perhaps some new paint, the trees get bigger, the animals get fatter, but aside from that, everything stays the same. I feel as though I’m coming home. For such a long time this was my home. I can’t imagine how you must feel.”
“I want to belong,” Riley said simply.
“You do. This was your father’s home. If he hadn’t died, this place would have gone to him and to you as his son. We talked about that on the plane. Just because Maggie holds the deed doesn’t mean a thing. Sunbridge is as much yours as it is Maggie’s and Cole’s. Maggie herself will tell you the same thing, I’m sure.”
“They may consider me an intruder.”
“I’m sure that will never happen, but if it does, Grand will make it right. You belong here. Accept it, Riley.”
“Yes ma’am,” Riley said, saluting smartly.
“Hew do you feel about coming to Sunbridge, Rand?” Sawyer asked a trifle anxiously.
“I’ve always loved Sunbridge, ever since I was a tad and Amelia brought me here for the first time, during the war. It’s a grand place.”
“I know....”
“I can see the arch,” Riley said, breaking the awkward moment.
“That means we’re home,” Sawyer said airily. Homecomings were so important to everyone, for different reasons.
When they climbed from the car in the wide, circular driveway, Sawyer found herself brushing shoulders with Rand. He was so silent—the kind of silence that trembles. How absurd! she thought. Rand was the most together person she knew. He didn’t have a nerve in his body. But she did give him a second look before she threw her arm around Riley’s shoulder.
This was her mother’s house now. Not Sunbridge, not their home. Maggie’s home. Sawyer couldn’t help but wonder how Riley was going to fit in. For all her brave, reassuring talk, she wasn’t certain. Maggie had loved her brother, and if things went right, she would love young Riley, too. For Maggie’s own reasons.
Riley’s smile and dark good looks were certainly charming everyone else. The baseball cap was clutched fiercely between his hands. A pity the boy didn’t know he had nothing to fear. At least from the Coleman women. The envy and dislike in young Cole’s eyes might give the boy a spot of trouble later on, but that was to be expected. Boys were always rivals in one way or another.
Maggie took center stage, calling for quiet. “I think we’re all here now. I’m so happy you could come here today. It’s kind of a momentous holiday. Freedom and independence, that kind of thing. It’s been such a long time since we were all gathered under the same roof. If we can, let’s put the past behind us and move closer to making this the kind of family we should be. It’s what I want, and I think all of you want the same thing. For any of you who don’t know, Riley is going to be staying with us here at Sunbridge for as long as he wants. This is his home as well as mine. Sunbridge belongs to all of us. This is home.”
Cole stood up and clapped his hands. “Bravo, Mother. Very well said.” Maggie flushed with embarrassment. “Cole,” she said apologetically, “doesn’t understand what Sunbridge is all about. He’s going to learn, though. This summer he’s going to ride the range and do all the things Pap and my brother used to do. He’s going to learn what Sunbridge is all about. Riley, too.”
Cole sputtered. “You promised. . . . You lied to me . . .”
“That’s enough, Cole,” Maggie said quietly.
“Why? So you can pretend to all these people, this wonderful family of yours, that you’re the grande dame of Sunbridge? You had no intention of considering my trip to Europe! You had this summer all planned out for me. For him, too,” Cole said, jerking his head in Riley’s direction.
“I said that’s enough, Cole,” Maggie said, coldly this time.
“Stuff this party, Mother. I’ll be in my room,” Cole said, stalking off and turning his ankle just as he walked through the doorway.
Maggie’s eyes spun around the assembled guests. To apologize for her son or not . . . Everyone had family problems. Her gaze locked with Rand’s. The rosy circles on her cheeks stood out starkly.
Billie let her breath out in a soft sigh. She was standing beside Riley. Her hand went protectively to his arm. She wanted to say something comforting but couldn’t find the words. It was Riley himself who saved the moment.
“Aunt Maggie, which horse will I have? And if I’m to ride the range, how many days will it take for my blisters to heal?”
Maggie laughed, a light sound of relief. “About a good two weeks. For starters, I think you can ride Lotus. She’s fairly gentle and she likes an apple for any ride over thirty minutes. Later, you can ride Stormy. Your father’s riding gear is in his closet. From the looks of you, it’ll just fit.”
Rand glanced over at Sawyer, who was still staring at the doorway through which Cole had stumbled. He knew her feelings for Maggie were unresolved. It was never easy being abandoned. Sawyer was quite sensitive on the subject of her mother. He found himself gulping his drink. Knowing this, how could he be such a heel? How could he add to her hurt?
There was a knock on Cole’s door and Riley was standing in the open doorway. “They sent me up to find you,” he explained. “I’m glad to meet you. I wanted to see you the last time I was here, but it just wasn’t possible.”
“I lived with it,” Cole said sarcastically. His cousin stood head and shoulders above him had made him feel all of four years old. “I could live with it if you left right now. I don’t understand why you’re here to begin with.”
Riley took a step backward as though he’d been dealt a physical blow. He’d never encountered such rudeness; it would never have been allowed in his grandfather’s house. But the old man had cautioned him not to bring shame on their family, and the boy answered quietly, “This was my father’s home. I never knew him; Sunbridge is as close to him as I can get. I’d like to know how he grew up here in Texas. I’d like to experience it for myself.”
“Well, I don’t want to be here, and I sure as hell don’t want to live with some Japanese orphan. Don’t go getting any ideas we’re going to be buddies and that I’m going to ride the old south forty to help you chase down your father’s ghost.”
Riley bristled. “I won’t ask you for anything. I didn’t come here to freeload, if that’s what you’re thinking. I can earn my keep.”
“Oh, yeah, and what’re you going to do? Ride the range, herd cattle, mend fences, muck the barn?”
“If I have to,” Riley said sharply. “You don’t have to like me, Cole”—there was an inner core of strength in his voice—“but I’m not going to let you walk all over me just because I’m a guest in your mother’s house. I can handle myself.”
“Look how impressed I am. I was on the boxing team at school. You’re just what we need around here, a smart-ass with a black belt in karate.”
Riley laughed. “Is that the same thing as being a wise-ass?”
Cole didn’t laugh; he knew Riley was mocking him. Cole turned his back and took two steps away, the hackles on the back of his neck warning him that Riley could pound him to a pulp. He was ready for anything, ready to fight if Riley made a move. “Dumb Jap prick!”
Cole turned suddenly, expecting Riley�
�s onslaught, but he found himself alone and facing an empty doorway. Cole swept his arm over the top of his dresser, finding small satisfaction in the tinkle of broken glass.
CHAPTER FOUR
Maggie presided over the long, linen-draped table. If she noticed the vacant place beside hers, she gave no indication. Coleman’s presence, she decided, was almost incidental to this gathering. Smiling, she rose to offer a welcoming toast. “To our family, each one of us!”
The chorus of enthusiastic responses pleased Maggie. “Wait,” she said, holding up her hand. “We have another toast. To Sunbridge!” This time the responses were more subdued. Only Riley beamed from ear to ear, and it was his echoing toast that could be clearly heard.
In deference to the huge Texas-style barbecue that would be offered later that evening when the other guests arrived, Maggie’s luncheon menu was purposely light: salad in aspic, which she noticed the men refused, baked lemon sole fillets, and asparagus tips. For the heartier appetite, a rich fish chowder was served, complete with thick slices of French bread and crumbled bacon. And, for dessert, coffee, pie and ice cream.
“Still watching your weight, Susan?” Maggie asked as she dug into her apple pie.
“In a way. At our age it’s difficult to take it off. Besides, I’m looking forward to those barbecued ribs.”
Jerome, mining his way through a second piece of pie with double ice cream, glanced at his wife. “I don’t want you to overdo tonight. Remember your diet.” Then, looking around at the others, he said, “Susan has to be careful. It’s critically important how she looks onstage. She’s been admired for her angelic, ethereal appearance when she sits before the piano. One bulge and it’s all ruined.”
Texas Heat Page 5
