Slow Waltz Across Texas

by Peggy Moreland

  “Those aren’t mittens,” she complained. “They’re socks.”

  “Magical socks,” Clayton said, dropping to hunker down beside Rena. “When you put ’em on your hands, they turn into mittens. See?” he said, holding up one of her hands for her inspection. “Mittens.”

  Brittany giggled. “You’re silly, Daddy.”

  “Mommy?”

  Rena turned to find Brandon standing in the doorway. “What, sweetheart?”

  “Somebody’s coming.”

  Rena rose, frowning. “Who?”

  He shrugged and turned for the door. “I don’t know, but there’s a car coming up the drive.”

  Clayton gave her leg a pat. “Go on and see who it is. I’ll finish up dressing this little critter.”

  “I’m not a critter,” Rena heard Brittany say as she stepped out into the hallway. “I’m a little girl.”

  Laughing softly, Rena skipped down the stairs, feeling cheerful and fresh, in spite of the small amount of sleep she’d received the night before. The mere thought of her night with Clayton made goose bumps pebble her flesh. Shivering deliciously, she opened the front door.

  What she saw made her blood run cold.

  “Oh, no,” she murmured under her breath as she stepped out onto the porch and watched the luxury car brake to a stop in front of her house. Feeling the dread building, she watched her father step from one side of the car, then shifted her gaze to watch her mother step from the opposite side. The look on her mother’s face as she stared up at Rena’s house said it all. In Gloria Palmer’s eyes, her daughter had lowered herself to an all-time low.

  Forcing a smile, Rena moved down the steps to greet her parents. “Hello, Mother,” she said, dropping the expected kiss on her mother’s cheek before turning to her father. “Hi, Dad,” she said and gave him a kiss, as well. “I didn’t know y’all were planning to come for a visit.”

  “I wanted to call first, but—”

  Gloria waved a hand, silencing her husband, then caught Rena’s hand in hers, the smile she offered as fake as her hair color. “We wanted to surprise you,” she said, then puckered her lips in a pout. “You don’t mind, do you, dear?”

  Forcing a smile of her own, Rena withdrew her hand. “Of course not. Though it would have been nice—” She heard the front door of the house open behind her and saw the shock spread across her mother’s face. She turned to see Clayton standing on the porch, balancing Brittany on one hip, Brandon on the other.

  “What is he doing here?” her mother snapped peevishly. “And what is wrong with Brittany’s hands? Has that brute harmed her?”

  Before Rena could reply, Gloria was charging for the porch. “What have you done to that baby?” she cried, and reached to snatch Brittany from Clayton’s arms.

  But he spun, turning his back to her.

  Brittany held up a hand as she peered over her daddy’s shoulder. “They’re magical socks, Nonnie,” she explained, turning her hand this way and that. “When you put ’em on your hands, they turn into mittens.”

  “My God!” Gloria shrieked, having gotten her first look at her granddaughter’s face. “What has happened to you? What is wrong with your face? And your arms!” she cried, when Brittany dropped her hand to wrap an arm around her daddy’s neck. She whirled, furious. “Rena. What is wrong with her? And why is that man here? I thought you were divorcing him, which is exactly what you should do and should have done years ago.

  “He’s nothing but trash,” she cried, then turned to gesture wildly at the house. “And he’s dragged you down to his level with him. Imagine! A Palmer living in a place like this!” She pressed a hand at her breasts and inhaled deeply, then pressed her lips together and marched down the steps, scowling. “Well, you’re not staying another minute in this house, and neither are my grandchildren. Martin. Go inside and pack their things. We’re taking them all back to Oklahoma with us.”

  Clayton knelt to set Brittany down and then gave her a nudge toward the door. “You and Brandon go on inside and watch TV,” he ordered. When he was sure they were out of earshot, he stood. “You’re not taking my family anywhere.”

  Gloria stared at Clayton, her mouth sagging open. “How dare you speak to me in that tone of voice! You are nothing. Nothing!” she repeated, her voice rising to a shrill shriek. “Do you hear me? Nothing! I told Rena not to marry you. I warned her what would happen. She thought she could pull you up to her level, but you dragged her down to yours instead.”

  Clayton cut his gaze to Rena’s. “Is that true?”

  “Yes, it’s true!” Gloria railed before Rena could answer. “I told her she should have an abortion. Told her that we would pay for it. But she chose to run off and marry you instead.”

  “Stop it!” Rena cried, unable to stand another minute of the war being waged around her. “Stop it! I don’t want to hear another word from anyone.”

  “Oh, you’ll hear more from me,” her mother warned, shaking a finger at her daughter’s nose. “I haven’t said near all that I have got to say.” She whirled to aim the same finger at Clayton. “And I’m not even close to telling you what I think of you, either.”

  Clayton stomped down the steps and shoved his face up close to his mother-in-law’s, bracing his hands on his hips. “Say what you’ve got to say, then I want you to get the hell off this property.”

  “No!” Rena screamed, clamping her hands over her ears. “I won’t listen to any more of this. I won’t!”

  Startled, Clayton tore his gaze from Gloria’s and turned to watch Rena storm up the steps and to the front door. She glared down at the three adults standing in her yard, tears streaming down her face. “I’m sick of this!” she cried. “And I will not subject my children or myself to any more of this petty bickering. I want you to leave. All of you,” she screamed, then ran inside the house, slamming the door behind her.

  Clayton didn’t wait around to see if the Palmers followed Rena’s instructions. He loaded up his horse, said to hell with whatever belongings he’d left in the house and turned his truck and trailer for the ranch.

  Fury, red-hot and blinding, fueled the first twenty or so miles of his trip. Anger carried him the rest of the way home. Rena had rebuked him. Sent him packing. And in front of her parents, no less.

  He swore when his cell phone rang, then picked it up and pitched it out the open window. If it was Rena calling, he didn’t want to talk to her. She’d made her feelings known when she’d ordered him to leave. He didn’t need to hear any more. He’d received her first message loud and clear.

  “Hey, buddy!” Pete shouted and headed for Clayton’s truck just as Clayton climbed down from the cab. “I didn’t know you were coming home.” He clapped a hand on Clayton’s back, then leaned to peer around him, looking inside the truck’s empty cab. His smile slowly melted. “Where’s Rena and the kids?”

  Clayton slammed the door behind him. “Salado.”

  “Salado!” Pete echoed, turning to watch Clayton stalk toward the house. “What’re they doing in Salado? I thought you were bringing them home?”

  “Yeah, well, so did I. Seems Rena has other plans.”

  “Plans? What plans?” Pete put his feet in motion, jogging to catch up with Clayton. “Surely she isn’t going through with the divorce?”

  “Seems she is.”

  “Oh, man,” Pete murmured sympathetically, clamping a hand over Clayton’s shoulder and squeezing. “That’s tough. Real tough.”

  Clayton shrugged free of his hand. “Where’s Rubin? Is he still home sick?”

  “No,” Pete said slowly, eyeing Clayton warily. “He’s back at work. I was just here collecting the rest of my gear from the barn.”

  “You headin’ out for a rodeo?”

  Pete shook his head. “No. As a matter of fact, I’m thinking about retiring.”

  “Retiring?” Clayton said. “What the hell for? We’ve got a couple of months yet to ring up some numbers before Las Vegas and the finals.”

  Pete sh
oved his hands into his pockets and scrunched his mouth to one side, while he dug a hole in the ground with the toe of his boot. “Yeah, I know. But Carol and I are getting married.”

  “Married!”

  “Yep.” Pete swelled his chest and pulled his hands from his pockets to give his belt a cocky hitch. “Finally came to her senses and decided she couldn’t go on livin’ without me. All but begged me to marry her on the spot.”

  Clayton snorted. “I’ll just bet she did.”

  “Well, she did,” Pete cried indignantly. “Ask her yourself.”

  Clayton shook his head and turned away. “Nope. I’m avoiding all females for a while.”

  “Where’re you goin’?” Pete called after him.

  “Gatherin’ me some gear and hittin’ the road.” Clayton pulled open the back door to his house, then turned and shot Pete a wink. “I’ve got me some time to make up.”

  The phone was ringing when Clayton stepped inside the house. He stopped and stared at it for a minute, then walked over to the phone jack and ripped it from the wall. Dusting off his hands, he turned for his bedroom, telling himself that a man can only have his heart kicked back in his face just so many times, before he learned to quit putting it out there to have it kicked.

  His uncle Frank had tried to teach him that lesson when he was five years old. He’d finally earned his degree at the ripe old age of thirty-four, under Rena’s tutelage.

  He supposed that just proved that his mother-in-law had been right all along. Clayton Rankin was nothing but a stupid cowboy.

  Eight

  Rena set the phone back in its cradle, then dropped her face to her hands.

  “Was Daddy home?”

  At Brittany’s question she dragged her hands down her face, then dropped them to her lap to meet her daughter’s gaze across the table. “No. I guess not. He didn’t answer.”

  “Did you try his cell phone?” Brandon asked helpfully.

  “Yes. No answer there, either.”

  Brittany pushed her lips out into a pout. “You shouldn’a made him leave.”

  “Brittany,” Rena warned.

  “Well, you shouldn’a,” she said, folding her arms across her chest and sulking.

  “I didn’t want Daddy and Nonnie fighting anymore,” Rena told her, struggling for patience. “I told you that.”

  “Maybe you shoulda just made ’em take a time-out,” Brandon told her. “That’s what you make me and Brittany do when we have a fight.”

  As miserable as she felt, Rena couldn’t help but laugh at the image of Clayton and her mother sitting in Brittany’s and Brandon’s time-out chairs with their noses pressed into opposite corners. “Maybe I’ll try that next time,” she said, then added under her breath, “though I hope there isn’t a next time.”

  “Call Pete,” Brittany suggested. “I bet he knows where Daddy is.”

  “Or Troy,” Brandon offered. “They’re probably all together.”

  “I don’t know,” Rena said uncertainly. She really hated to drag Pete and Troy into the silent war Clayton was waging against her.

  Brittany pushed the phone closer to Rena’s hand. “Call ’em. I’ll bet they can find my daddy.”

  Though Rena had vacillated for a good two hours or more, she finally broke down and dialed Troy’s cell phone number while the twins were napping. She was shocked when a woman answered the phone. Thinking she’d misdialed, she said, “I’m sorry. I must have dialed the wrong number.”

  “Were you calling Troy Jacobs?” the woman asked.

  Frowning, Rena said, “Well, yes. Who is this?”

  “Shelby. Just a minute and I’ll get Troy for you.”

  Stunned that Troy—shy, quiet, reserved Troy, who could rarely work up the nerve to ask a woman out—had a woman with him, Rena listened to Shelby call Troy to the phone, her voice muffled by the hand she’d obviously placed over the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Troy?”

  “Rena?”

  “Yes, it’s me,” she said, tears building at the sound of concern in his voice.

  “Are you with Clayton?” he asked.

  She pressed a hand against her lips and shook her head, then dropped it and drew in a deep breath. “No. In fact, I was hoping you might know where he is.”

  “No,” he said slowly. “Haven’t seen or heard from him in weeks. You might try Pete, though. He’s probably still at y’all’s ranch. He was looking after things while Clayton chased to Oklahoma to haul you and the kids back home.” He paused, then said in a low voice, “Sorry. Didn’t mean that to come out the way it did.”

  Rena smiled, though her eyes were filled with tears. “You don’t have to apologize. That’s exactly what he tried to do.”

  “Did y’all—that is to say, did you, well, uh—”

  “Did we resolve our problems?” Rena asked, knowing how difficult it was for Troy to ask personal questions.

  “Yeah. That. Did you?”

  She shook her head, feeling the tears building again, then said, “No, not yet.”

  “If there’s anything I can do…”

  Rena pressed her hand over her mouth to stifle the sob that rose, then dropped it to her lap and balled it into a fist. “Thank you, Troy,” she said, fighting back the tears. “You’re a good friend.”

  After the emotional conversation with Troy, it took Rena two days to work up the courage to call Pete. She didn’t waste her time calling him at the ranch, as Troy had suggested, because she knew that even if he was still there, she wouldn’t get an answer. Either no one was at the ranch or Clayton had pulled the phone out of the wall. Knowing Clayton as she did, if it came to a bet, Rena was prepared to put her money on the latter.

  She’d hurt him when she’d sent him away, but that certainly hadn’t been her intent. She had just wanted the fighting to stop, and that was the only way she could think to end it.

  Sighing, she picked up the phone and dialed Pete’s cell number. It rang three times before he answered, saying “It’s your dime. Talk to me.”

  She laughed, imagining Pete reared back with his chest all puffed out, his hat shoved back on his head, holding the phone tipped up to his mouth. “Pete Dugan,” she teased. “It costs more than a dime to make a call these days.”

  “Rena?”

  “Yes. It’s me.”

  “Woman, you sure know how to stir up trouble when you put your mind to it.”

  Wincing at his sharp tone, she figured that he must have spoken to Clayton. “Yes, I suppose I do, though that wasn’t my intent.”

  “Didn’t say it was. Nor am I pointin’ blame. I’m just sayin’ that this is one hell of a mess you’ve gotten yourself into.”

  “I would have to agree with you on that point,” she said miserably. “Is Clayton with you?”

  “Nope. He’s out on the road. Stopped by the ranch a couple of days ago, grabbed some gear and took off again.”

  “Did he say where he was going?”

  “Can’t say that he did. But I could probably find out for you. Give me your number, and I’ll give you a call back.”

  Rena gave him the number and verified it once he’d written it down.

  “Now I don’t know how long it’ll take me to track him down,” Pete warned her. “This time of year there’s lots of rodeos to choose from, and I’d bet my truck he’s hittin’ as many as he can.”

  “I understand. Just call me when you know something. It doesn’t matter what time. Just call.”

  “Sure thing, darlin’. And you give those kids a hug from their uncle Pete. Hear?”

  Rena smiled, remembering Brittany asking if she had any uncles or aunts. Hearing Pete refer to himself as one, made her realize that her children did have an uncle. Two, in fact. Though not by blood. “I will. And thanks, Pete. I owe you one.”

  “Chicken-fried steak,” he said, naming his reward, and she could almost see his grin. “You always made the best.”

  “Chicken-fried steak it is,” she said
smiling. “Find Clayton for me, and I’ll cook you a platterful.”

  Rena sweated through another day of pacing by the phone, waiting for Pete’s call. When it finally came, she was fast asleep.

  Awakened by the sound of the phone ringing beside her bed, she fought back the covers and grabbed for it.

  “Hello?”

  “Rena? It’s Pete. I found him. Had to track him through three states, but I found him.”

  She sat up, brushing her bangs back from her forehead. “Where is he?”

  “At the ranch.”

  “The ranch!” she cried. “But I thought you said he was out on the road.”

  “I did. And he was. But he’s home again. And sick as a dog. Caught the chicken pox from the kids, from what I could gather, though he’s talking out of his head and not makin’ a whole helluva lot of sense. Fever, I guess. They say it’s worse on adults than it is on kids.”

  Rena slid to the side of the bed and dropped her feet over the side. “Did you see him? Is he all right?”

  “Are you kiddin’ me? You know what Clayton’s like when he’s sick. You can’t get within a mile of him. Grouchier than an old bear. That’s what he is. And about as approachable as a rattler.”

  Rena sputtered a laugh, knowing that Pete wasn’t exaggerating by much. “Yes. I know.”

  “Now I’m not tryin’ to tell you what to do or nothin’, but if I was you, I’d hightail it over to the ranch and check on him. Carol and I tried, but he won’t let us in the door. Has himself barricaded in y’all’s bedroom.”

  A fleeting concern about her shop darted through her mind, but Rena quickly pushed it aside. Clayton meant much more to her than her new business or her bid for independence. “I will,” she said without hesitation. “First thing in the morning I’ll pack up the kids and head for the ranch.”

  “Well, now,” Pete said slowly, “I don’t think you ought to be takin’ those kids in with you. No tellin’ what Clayton might say or do. Little ears, you know? Drop ’em at Carol’s. We’ll look after ’em for you.”