The Last Good Man in Texas

by Peggy Moreland

  He nodded.

  She pressed a finger into the soil of a container, testing its moisture. Nodding her approval, she dusted off her hands. "What about fertilization? How do you handle that?"

  He motioned for her to follow him to a space near the door they'd entered where his watering system seemed to originate. Five-gallon jugs were upended on a long wooden shelf, their necks sunk into holes drilled into the wooden planks. Tubes ran from the mouth of each jug and were connected to the watering system by joints that looked like tiny spigots.

  "Make my own fertilizer," he said, tapping a finger against the side of a jug filled with an amber liquid. "Call it Liquid Gold. Drain it off my compost piles. Provides all the nutrition my plants need."

  Amazed by his creativity, as well as impressed with his obvious success, she turned to tell him so, but sputtered a laugh. "I don't even know your name." She offered him her hand. "I'm Macy Keller."

  She watched the slow, hesitant drag of his hand up the side of his jeans before he took her hand in his.

  "John. John Sullivan."

  * * *

  Later that evening, Macy lay stretched out on the lounge chair in the strip of grass in front of her trailer, her eyes closed, as she listened to the birds singing in the treetop overhead.

  She was lonely, but it was a good kind of lonely, because she knew that it would end the second Rory returned from Houston. He had called earlier that afternoon to give her an update on the water damage at his Houston store and promised to call again later, to let her know when to expect him home. Not wanting to miss his call, she had her cell phone on her lap and close at hand.

  She could barely wait to talk to him so that she could tell him about meeting John Sullivan and how seeing his greenhouses had made her start thinking that opening a nursery in Tanner's Crossing wasn't such a bad idea. She was even thinking of asking John to work for her. He obviously knew a lot about plants and could probably even teach her a few things. His shyness might be a problem, though, as he might not like working retail, since it would require him to deal with people on a daily basis.

  But she was sure they could find a way to work around that, depending on how flexible John was. She could always put him in charge of the care of the plants and hire a manager to handle the retail end. He might even be willing to work with her on designs and installations. Judging by the appearance of his own gardens, he obviously had a knack for both.

  Her phone rang and she snatched it up. "Hello?"

  "Hey, Macy. It's Rory."

  Warmed by the sound of his voice, she snuggled into the lounge chair. "You sound tired."

  "I am. This place is a zoo. The whole town seems to be under water. I even saw some people rowing a boat down the street."

  "Heavens!" she exclaimed, then laughed. "I hope you remembered to pack your rubber boots."

  "I didn't pack anything. Drove straight here."

  "Rory," she said, unable to contain her excitement any longer. "I met the most unusual man today. John Sullivan. He—"

  "I hate to interrupt. But can this wait? I'm swamped here."

  Her excitement melting, she said, "Well, yeah. Sure. When are you coming home?"

  "That's just it. I'm not. At least not tonight. We're still pumping water out of the building and we're having trouble lining up a roofer. I'll call you tomorrow and let you know how things are going. Maybe I'll have a better idea then."

  Though disappointed, she tried her best to hide it. "Try to stay dry."

  "I will."

  "Rory?" she said before he could hang up.

  "Yeah?"

  "I—" She caught her lip between her teeth, catching herself before the words "love you" slipped out. "Be careful," she said instead.

  "You do the same," he said, then broke the connection.

  * * *

  A knock on her trailer door had Macy lifting her head from the list of names she was working on. She never had visitors … other than the nosy lady across the street. Praying it wasn't her, she laid aside the legal pad and telephone book and rose to cross to the door.

  Her eyes rounded when she found Elizabeth Tanner standing on the stoop. "Well, hi," she said in surprise.

  Elizabeth winced. "Is this a bad time? I could come back later if it is."

  Macy pushed the door wide. "Heavens, no," she said and laughed as she tugged Elizabeth inside. "In fact, once I get you in here, I might not let you leave. I've been bored out of my mind since Rory left."

  "Rory's gone?"

  "He's in Houston. There was a flood and the roof on his store collapsed. He says things are really a mess."

  "Oh, dear. Does he need help? I'm sure Woodrow would be happy to drive down if Rory needs him."

  "I honestly don't know whether he needs help or not. But I'll mention it to him when I talk to him. He's supposed to call sometime today and let me know when he's planning to come home." She glanced at her wristwatch and frowned. "Although I would've thought he'd call by now."

  Realizing that they were both still standing, Macy darted to shove the photos and phone book to the side of the sofa. "I'm sorry. Sit. Please. I apologize for the mess, but I'm living in pretty tight quarters at the moment."

  Elizabeth glanced around as she sat down. "I think it's rather cozy. Woodrow's and my home is small. He built it himself."

  "Really?" Macy said in surprise. "I didn't know Woodrow was a builder."

  "He's not. And least not professionally. He simply likes to work with his hands. Do things himself. He's really quite talented."

  "I guess it's convenient having a handyman around."

  "Even more so when you consider the remoteness of our location."

  Macy looked at her curiously. "You and Woodrow don't live on the ranch?"

  "The home place?" At Macy's nod, Elizabeth shook her head. "No. We have our own ranch about twenty miles farther out."

  "Since Ry lives there and Rory will be living nearby soon, I assumed that all the brothers lived on the ranch."

  Chuckling, Elizabeth shook her head. "I don't think Tanner's Crossing would survive having all the brothers living here again. From what I've heard, they were fairly rowdy when they were growing up.

  "Ace and Maggie live in Kerrville," she went on to explain, "although we're trying to persuade them to move closer. And Whit has his own place not too far away."

  Smiling, Elizabeth reached over and gave Macy's knee a pat. "But I didn't come over here to gossip about the family. I came to tell you that I did a little detective work while I was at the clinic today. And please don't get your hopes up," she added quickly. "Because I'm not here to tell you that I've discovered who your father is. But I noticed Sunday that you seemed disappointed that, your mother's medical records were confidential and I thought I'd take a peek at them, just on the off chance that they might offer information that you might find useful."

  "And?" Macy prodded.

  "The only thing I can tell you is that your mother was definitely pregnant when she left Tanner's Crossing. There was a notation of a positive test in her file. Unfortunately the father's name wasn't listed."

  Macy dropped her gaze to hide her disappointment. "I appreciate you looking. I know that you stretched the rules to do that."

  Elizabeth draped an arm around her and hugged her to her side. "I wanted to help. I know it must be frustrating for you to keep constantly hitting dead ends."

  Macy glanced at the pile of photos and the list of names she was working on. "That would be putting it mildly."

  Elizabeth glanced at the pile of pictures Macy had shoved aside. "Are those the photos your mother's friend gave to you?"

  "Yeah. I've made a list of all the men Rory recognized in the pictures and now I'm looking up their names in the telephone directory."

  Elizabeth looked at her in surprise. "You plan to call them on the phone?"

  Macy shook her head. "No. Although that was my intention when I began the list," she admitted. "But then I started thinking about the men's wi
ves, their families, and realized how embarrassing, how potentially disastrous it would be, if I were to call and start asking a lot of questions about the past."

  Elizabeth blew out a breath. "I see what you mean." She picked up a photo from the pile, then glanced at Macy. "Do you mind?" she asked.

  Macy opened a hand. "Help yourself."

  Elizabeth studied the photo and smothered a laugh. "Oh, my. Would you look at the style of their clothing?"

  Macy scooted over so that she could see, too. "Yeah. They're pretty funny-looking. The amazing thing is those styles are coming back."

  Elizabeth shuddered. "Maybe for some. Personally I wouldn't be caught dead wearing a skirt that short." She replaced the photo and picked up another. Her smile turned wistful. "Look," she said and pointed to a man who stood off a ways from the group. "He reminds me of Whit."

  Frowning, Macy looked more closely at the photo, then shook her head. "I don't really remember what Whit looks like. I only saw him that one time."

  "I didn't mean in looks," Elizabeth said. "It's as if he's standing on the outside, looking in. Obviously with the group, but not a part. Whit's like that."

  "Rory said nearly the same thing."

  "Rory said what same thing?"

  Macy snapped up her head, then shot off the sofa when she saw Rory standing in the doorway. Laughing, he scooped her up in his arms and kissed her hard.

  Elizabeth set the photo aside and stood, delicately clearing her throat.

  Rory tore his mouth from Macy's long enough to shoot Elizabeth a wink. "Hey, sis. Be right with you." Then he turned his attention back to Macy again.

  Laughing, Macy pushed his face back. "Stop. You're embarrassing Elizabeth. And why didn't you call and tell me you were coming home?" she scolded. "I could've had dinner ready."

  Setting her on her feet again, he swept off his hat and ruffled his hair. "I wanted to surprise you."

  "Well, I'm surprised, all right."

  "And I'm leaving," Elizabeth interjected as she moved to the door. She paused on the stoop and looked back. "Now, don't you two do anything I wouldn't do," she lectured sternly, then fluttered her fingers in farewell and closed the door.

  Macy turned back to Rory, then grinned and threw her arms around his neck. "I'm so glad you're home. I've been bored out of my mind."

  Scooping her up into his arms again, he strode for her bunk. "Well, it just so happens I have a cure for boredom."

  Smiling, she dragged a finger down the slope of his nose. "And what would that be?"

  "Lose those clothes and I'll show you."

  * * *

  Macy sat cross-legged on the bed opposite Rory, a plate of cheese and crackers perched on a pillow between them.

  "I swear the man's a genius," she said. "He's rigged up this water system where each plant is watered individually and he figured out a way to fertilize them, using the same system. The fertilizer he uses is drippings from his compost pile, which must be really great stuff, because his plants are super healthy and beautiful to boot.

  "And his gardens," she continued, her eyes bright with excitement. "They're unbelievable, and he's done all the work himself."

  Chuckling, Rory popped a chunk of cheese into his mouth. "Much more and you're going to make me think the man can walk on water."

  "I wouldn't be surprised if he could," she said. "He's really shy and doesn't say much. And when he does talk, he doesn't waste any words."

  "What did you say this guy's name was?"

  "John Sullivan. Do you know him?"

  Rory frowned a minute, then shook his head. "Doesn't ring a bell."

  "It probably wouldn't. He told me he doesn't come into town very much. Only when he has to. I think he's sort of a recluse. When I first saw him out in front of your store, he was standing by one of the mountain laurels and had a knife in his hand."

  "A knife?" Rory repeated in alarm.

  "Not a big one," she said, as if the size mattered. "Just a pocketknife. I thought he was going to do something to one of the trees, so I ran over to stop him. That's when I—"

  He jackknifed up, knocking the plate from the pillow and scattering chunks of cheese across the bed. "Are you nuts? The guy could have sliced you to ribbons."

  Giving him a pained look, she began to pick up the cheese. "It wasn't a big knife," she said again. "And he wasn't going to cut me to ribbons. He was just checking for bores on the tree."

  "How do you know that's what he was doing with the knife?"

  She leaned to set the plate on the floor. "Because I saw the bores," she said as she straightened. "Which really makes me mad. I bought those trees at Arnold's nursery and I'm almost sure they weren't infected when I bought them. I said as much to John, and he told me some things that makes me think Arnold isn't a reputable nurseryman, that he's more interested in the money he can make than the quality of the plants he sells.

  "I mentioned to John that I was considering opening a nursery here, and he said that a good one is needed. I'm thinking that I might talk to John, feel him out to see if he'd be interested in working for me, if I should decide to open a nursery, because I think he'd be a real asset as an employee. He's obviously very good with plants, if his gardens are any indication. And he's—"

  Rory held up a hand, unable to get beyond the fact that when Macy had first seen John, he'd had a knife in his hand. "Whoa. Slow down a minute. Don't go offering this guy a job. You don't know anything about him. He could be a real nutcase, for all you know."

  "He's nothing of the sort," she said defensively. "In fact, when I caught him trying to look at my breasts, I—"

  Rory came up off the pillow, his hands doubled into fists. "He did what?"

  She patted at the air between them. "Calm down. He wasn't really looking at my breasts. I just thought he was. He was admiring my locket."

  Hopping back against the pillow, he folded his arms across his chest. "Sure he was," he said dryly.

  "He was," she insisted. "And he was really embarrassed that I thought he was sneaking a peek."

  "I don't want you going to his house anymore."

  Her chest swelled in defiance. "I beg your pardon, but I'll go wherever I want."

  Realizing that he'd approached this all wrong, he caught her hand and dragged her over to sit beside him. "I'm not trying to tell you what to do," he said patiently.

  She turned her face away to glare at the wall. "Well, it certainly sounds like it."

  He caught her chin and forced her face back to his. "I'm only concerned about you. You don't know anything about this guy."

  "And you do?" she challenged.

  "No, but I intend to." He looped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side. "I have to go back to Houston tomorrow, but before I leave, we'll pay Maw Parker a visit. See what she knows. If Maw says this guy's all right, then I won't say another word, I promise." He tipped her face up to his. "I'm not trying to control you, Macy," he said softly. "I just want to make sure you're safe. Okay?"

  She pouted a moment longer, then mumbled a grudging "Okay."

  * * *

  "Maw, this is Macy Keller," Rory said, making the introductions. "Macy, Maw Parker."

  Maw gave Macy a quick look-over. "So you're the gal who's trying to find her daddy. Rory told me about you."

  Macy smiled weakly. "Yes, ma'am. I'm the one."

  "Had any luck?" Maw asked.

  Macy shook her head. "No, ma'am. Not yet."

  "Listen, Maw," Rory said, anxious to get to the point of their visit. "I'm a bit pressed for time, but I'm hoping that you can help me out by giving me some information."

  Swelling her chest a bit, Maw gave her dress a tug over her hips. "You came to the right person. If Maw don't know, nobody does."

  Chuckling, Rory nodded his head. "Yes, ma'am. That's why I'm here." Sobering, he tugged Macy closer to his side and looped an arm around her waist. "Macy met a man the other day. John Sullivan. Do you know him?"

  Maw flapped a hand. "I know
him, all right. Spook. That's what everybody around here calls him."

  "Spook?" Rory repeated, not liking the sound of the nickname. "Why's he called that?"

  "'Cause he's weird," Maw said bluntly.

  Rory gave Macy an I-told-you-so smirk, then said to Maw, "I had a feeling he was. Macy said the first time she saw him he had a knife in his hand. Claimed he was checking a tree for bores."

  "Probably was," Maw replied with a shrug. "Spook knows more about plants than anybody I know, and that's saying something. Spends all his time shut up in those greenhouses he keeps behind his house. Folks say he even talks to them."

  "I talk to plants," Macy interjected, then gave Rory a bland look. "Does that make me weird, too?"

  Scowling, he turned his attention back to Maw. "Macy went out to his house to see his greenhouses and now she wants to go back. I don't think she should. The guy could be dangerous."

  Maw lifted a brow. "Spook dangerous?" She hooted a laugh. "That man probably grieves over every bug he has to kill." She shook her head. "Spook may be weird, but he's not dangerous."

  Macy dug her elbow into Rory's ribs. "See?" she said smugly. "I told you he was all right."

  * * *

  Nine

  « ^ »

  Macy couldn't wait to return to John's house. Once Rory left for Houston, she climbed into her Jeep and made the long, winding drive to his farm. Seeing Old Blue parked beside the house, she considered knocking on his front door, then remembered Maw saying that he spent all of his time in his greenhouses. Figuring that's where she'd find him, she strode around back and headed for the greenhouse she'd visited the previous day.

  "John?" she called as she stepped inside. She heard a clatter of metal, as if something had been dropped, then John appeared at the end of the middle walkway.

  Smiling, she lifted a hand in greeting and started toward him. "I didn't mean to startle you. I started to stop at the house, but I figured I'd find you out here."

  He stooped and picked up the watering can he'd dropped, then slowly straightened and set it aside. "Here's where I usually am."

  "I hope you don't mind that I dropped by. I really enjoyed seeing your greenhouse yesterday and would like to see the other one, if you don't mind."