West Texas Weddings

by Ginger Chambers

  “He wouldn’t.or couldn’t marry you, though?”

  Christine’s mouth tightened. “No.”

  “Men!” Jodie said, and she said it with such conviction that it peaked Christine’s interest.

  “You sound as if you’ve experienced some man trouble, too.”

  “No one’s told you? I’m surprised. I was the prime subject of conversation all last winter. ‘What can we do to make things better for Jodie? How can we cheer her up?’ Then eventually, ‘Stop moping around, girl! Find something to do!’“ She gave a sour grin. “I seriously thought about leaving home again.”

  “Again?”

  Jodie sighed. “I ran off with my boyfriend. At least, I thought he was my boyfriend. It turned out I was just someone he could have a good time with.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “To a ranch in New Mexico where his brother worked.” She paused. “I would have gone anywhere with him. I thought. I thought we were going to get married in January as soon as I turned eighteen, but he.he caved in as soon as Rafe and my dad and Shannon caught up with us. He couldn’t get away from me fast enough!”

  It still hurt, Christine could see. She recognized the feeling. Betrayal by someone you love was the worst kind. It planted a barb that was almost impossible to remove.

  Jodie forced a smile. “He was a cowboy on the ranch. His name’s Rio. And to me he was just the finest thing—good-looking, fun, and could he kiss!”

  “Where is he now?”

  “Who knows? We left him in New Mexico, but he could be anywhere—except West Texas. Rafe told him he better not come back here, and I don’t think he ever will.”

  “Was he your first and only boyfriend?” Christine asked softly.

  Jodie thought for a moment. “Yeah, my first real one. I had a crush on someone when I was in school. It started in middle school, when he drove the bus one semester. I was eleven, he was eighteen. He thought I was a brat. He still does.”

  “He lives around here?”

  “He went away to college the fall after he drove the bus. Now he’s back. He’s been back a year, but like I said…”

  “He thinks you’re a brat.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What happened to the crush?”

  “I grew up. I saw how silly I was. I found Rio.”

  “Well, since it didn’t work out with Rio, have you thought about—”

  “No!” Jodie’s voice had unconsciously risen. “I don’t want another boyfriend! Especially not Tate! He’s just so…I’m not real big on men right now. I want to go to college, see something of the world. There has to be more to life than this!” Her sweeping arm encompassed the entire ranch.

  “You’re tired of being a Parker?”

  “I’ve been one all my life. I’m tired of everyone—Aunt Mae mostly—telling me what to do. What to think. How to act.” She moved uncomfortably. “She was sweet to me when I came back from New Mexico, though. She’s sweet to me most of the time now—in her own way. But then, she wanted me to go to college and I am, so she thinks she’s gotten her way. But I’m doing it for me. Not for her. I finally figured out that going to college will let me be on my own, make my own decisions.”

  Silence descended between them, then Jodie said, “What about your mom and dad? How did they take your having a baby so young?”

  “Hasn’t Mae told you? I thought the news would get around to everyone.”

  “Sometimes I listen, sometimes I don’t. So tell me.”

  “I’m like Erin—my dad wasn’t around when I was born. And my mother…my mother didn’t really care. She, ah, had other things on her mind.”

  Jodie grew very still. “We’re mirror images almost. My mother left, so did your dad. My dad doesn’t have a clue, and your mother.”

  “My mother was an alcoholic.”

  Jodie looked at her. “Wow,” she breathed, then a moment later she said, “I guess maybe I didn’t have it so hard with my dad. He is clueless at times, but I know he’s there if I need him. Did, ah, you have other family nearby?”

  “No.”

  “Wow,” she said again.

  “I better go back inside.” Christine stood.

  Jodie got to her feet, too. She seemed at a loss for something more to say. Finally she murmured, “What you did took courage.”

  Christine shook her head. “Courage means bravery. And I wasn’t brave.”

  “I think you were.”

  “I met someone who was brave—Ira. To face the end of his life the way he did, with such dignity.”

  “I barely knew him.”

  “That’s too bad,” Christine said as she turned back toward Mae’s house.

  CHRISTINE TOSSED for the next hour after she went back to bed, her talk with Jodie bringing back old memories. The reaction of her mother when finally told of the pregnancy, her mother’s insistence that she wasn’t going to be responsible for the baby’s care or for any of the costs. Christine had loved her mother, but she was honest enough, even then, to admit there were times when it was difficult.

  She thought of Ira, wondering if he’d known about the wall of resistance she would come up against while trying to claim her share of the ranch. And why, if what Mae Parker and the others said was true and he couldn’t legally leave it to her, he had done so, anyway. That didn’t make sense.

  It was important, though, not to think along those lines. She had to believe that it was within Ira’s rights to leave his share of the ranch to her. If she thought otherwise, she’d panic, because then, she and Erin would have to leave. And they’d be back to square one, with no job, no place to live and a continuation of the hard-scrabble life they’d led up to this point. To glimpse salvation, to have it within your grasp, then to see it slip away would be the cruelest blow. It wasn’t something the Ira she knew would allow.

  Then once again, coming full circle, she thought of Morgan Hughes. Reliving every second they’d spent in each other’s company. The way he looked, the way he moved, the way he smiled. The way she’d felt when he kissed her!

  Christine moaned into her pillow. If only she could erase him from her mind!

  IT SEEMED unusually bright to Christine when she awoke the next morning. She had no idea how long she’d slept, but it hadn’t been long enough. She fought against the muzziness, trying to understand why everything felt so different. Then, checking the clock on the bedside table, she saw the reason. It was already after nine. They were usually finishing breakfast about this time, not just getting up!

  She threw the covers back and swung her feet to the floor, ready to awaken Erin. They were making inroads with their friendship with Marie; she didn’t want to harm their progress by disrupting the housekeeper’s schedule. But Erin’s bed was empty, and in Erin’s usual fashion, mostly made up. The spread was pulled over the pillow and tucked in underneath, somewhat off kilter along the edges, but an attempt had been made. And Golden Belle claimed place of honor among the other stuffed animals and dolls.

  “Erin?” Christine called.

  There was no answer.

  She crossed to the closed bathroom door and tapped on it. Still no answer. Erin must have awakened at their usual time and gone downstairs on her own.

  Christine hurriedly dressed in the same jeans she’d worn last night and a fresh denim shirt. After a quick wash and a hasty application of lipstick and mascara, she dashed downstairs to the dining room-only to come upon Erin talking happily with Morgan Hughes. He sat at the table at her side enjoying a plate of eggs and bacon and some of Marie’s delicious biscuits.

  “Mornin’,” he said, a twinkle in his eyes.

  Christine had put on the brakes so fast upon seeing him that she had to take a little hop to keep from toppling over.

  “Mommy! You’re awake!” Erin cried, abandoning what remained of her bowl of cereal to come give her a hug.

  “I didn’t mean to sleep so late,” Christine murmured, stroking her daughter’s silky hair. “I usually wake up much
earlier,” she said to Morgan.

  He’d gotten to his feet, as well. “So Erin tells me.”

  Christine smiled into her daughter’s bright face and leaned down to kiss her forehead.

  “I let you sleep, Mommy,” Erin said. “When I talked to you and you didn’t hear, I dressed and came down, and look who I found! Morgan says it’s for sure I’ll have my riding lesson this evening, just like you said he said.”

  Christine’s gaze slid to Morgan’s and then away again. “You’d better get back to your breakfast. You, too,” she added to him as she took her usual place at the table.

  Marie, who must have heard her voice, bustled into the room. “Good morning, Christine. I’ll have your toast in just a few minutes.”

  “I’m not very hungry today, Marie. I’ll munch on a biscuit. Coffee’s what I need the most.”

  “Well, the pot on the table’s fresh. I brought it in a little while ago. And there’s more coming. Morgan? Do you need anything else?”

  “You feed me almost as well as my momma does, Marie. I’ll know where to come if she ever tosses me out.”

  “Delores? Toss you out? It’ll be a cold day in Hades when that happens!”

  The housekeeper’s gaze swept the table for needed refills, then she bustled back into the kitchen.

  Christine transferred a biscuit to her plate and smeared a little strawberry jam on it. She forced herself to nibble on the edge.

  “Morgan said he had to see about some rustlers, Mommy! That’s why he had to miss our lesson yesterday.”

  “Rustlers?” Christine echoed. “I thought rustlers were something from the past.”

  “Oh, no,” Morgan said. “There’s plenty of cattle thieves operating today. Sometimes they can hit a rancher pretty hard. If it’s a small rancher running fifty or sixty head at seven or eight hundred dollars a head and he gets five or six head stolen, that’s quite a loss.”

  “But this is a big ranch.”

  “Bigger ranch, more cattle to steal. A lot more range to choose from, too.”

  “Have any cows been stolen here?”

  “Not here. At a neighboring ranch.”

  Christine frowned. “What are you going to do about it?”

  He smiled. “Wait and watch.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Not much else you can do. Just keep on your toes.”

  Christine knew virtually nothing about cattle or ranching. Still, she’d found the discussion of rustlers interesting.

  She picked at her biscuit some more, but mostly sipped her coffee. A vague headache threatened, and she still felt muzzy from sleep.

  She looked up when Erin giggled at something Morgan had said. He’d finished with his breakfast and was leaning back in his chair. Erin’s face was shining, and she appeared to hang on Morgan’s every word.

  “No, Morgan, that’s not right!” she exclaimed. “The bride doesn’t walk down the aisle on her hands!”

  “I’m sure I saw that in one of those fancy etiquette books somewhere.”

  “You don’t read books like that!”

  “I do. Every evening. I read them out loud to Thunder.”

  “You don’t! You don’t! You’re making that up!”

  Christine was uncomfortable with the rapport developing between her daughter and Morgan. She didn’t want Erin to get too attached. She cleared her throat. “Ah, Erin? Speaking of weddings, when’s the big day?”

  Erin turned a happy face to her-happier than Christine remembered seeing it in a long time. “Tomorrow, I think,” she chirped. “Jessica said—” She stopped, her eyes growing huge as she turned back to Morgan. “Jessica’s waiting for me over at Gwen and Wesley’s, isn’t she? I forgot!”

  “They’ll wait,” Morgan said.

  “I have to go!” Erin cried, and scrambled away from the table. Then she ran back to hug Morgan’s neck before moving on to Christine. “They need me,” she explained at the door. “I’m the only one who can work the tape player. It has a broken piece and you have to hold it just right!”

  Morgan chuckled after she’d gone, his lazy glance moving over Christine. “She’s quite a kid,” he said. “Jessica likes her. And Jessica’s picky about who she plays with.”

  “Jessica’s your niece.”

  “One of my brother Russell’s daughters. You met his son, Rusty, the first day you—”

  “I remember him.”

  He smiled slowly. “That was quite a day, wasn’t it?” When Christine said nothing, he went on, “Russell’s kids have been staying at our place while Russell gets himself established in Colorado. They’ve bounced around a lot over the past few years, and I think Jessica’s had enough of it.”

  “You drove her here this morning?” Christine asked.

  He nodded. “Erin’s bounced around a lot, too, hasn’t she?” he asked. “You can kinda tell that about a kid.”

  “If she’s bounced, we’ve done it together,” Christine said tightly.

  “Yeah, you can tell that, too. She’s been looked after.”

  Christine made no more pretense of eating. “Are you trying to ask me something?” she demanded.

  “Not really. I thought we were just havin’ a nice conversation.”

  Christine stood up. “Well, you may not have anything else to do, but I certainly have.”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t have anything to do.” He stood up to dig in the front pocket of his snug-fitting jeans. “LeRoy asked me to give you these. Here.”

  He tossed Christine her car keys. They made a gentle arc over the table before falling into her hands.

  “Has he given up on it?” she asked.

  “Nope. Says it’s runnin’ like a top, and he asked me to tell you he’s sorry for takin’ so long. Says there was a part he’s been waitin’ on and that it just got in yesterday.”

  Christine stared at the key ring. It seemed to have been weeks since she’d seen it. “Thank you,” she murmured. “That was really nice of him. I never expected—”

  “As I’ve mentioned before, the Parkers are good people.”

  She gave a halfhearted smile and walked to the door. He was right behind her.

  “You told Erin what I said,” he murmured as they crossed into the living room.

  “Of course. I said I would.”

  “I thought we’d parted with a little question still hovering in the air.”

  “What question?”

  “Whether, deep down, you ever believe anything anyone tells you. Or if you just go along, waiting for people to disappoint you.”

  Christine spun around to face him. “Can I help it if that’s been my experience?”

  The ring of truth in her reply obviously got through to him. His eyes met hers.searching.

  Christine couldn’t hide the multitude of hurts she’d suffered over the years. If, as he’d claimed, he could sense a child who’d been transplanted numerous times, but who’d still been well cared for, could he also sense the reverse?

  A sound escaped his lips as he lifted a hand to touch her cheek. But the act wasn’t so much sexually charged as it was one heart reaching out to another in empathy.

  Then Mae came into the room, shattering the moment. Both Christine and Morgan moved hastily apart.

  Mae’s eagle eyes bored into them. She was aware she’d interrupted something. And she didn’t seem pleased.

  “Morgan,” Mae snapped, “I was looking for you.”

  Christine took advantage of the moment to leave the room. “I know you’re busy, Morgan,” Mae began, “but if you can’t do the job I asked you to, say so!”

  Morgan was still shaken by the interlude just passed. He’d hassled Christine, she’d fought back, and the next thing he knew, he felt as if he’d been drawn into her soul. “I told you this was going to take time, Mae.” He fell back on his previous excuse.

  “I don’t have that much time!” Mae retorted, moving irritably across the room. “I’m an old woman. I want to get this settled.”


  Morgan’s lips twitched. “Oh, come on now. You’re not so old.”

  She speared him with an impatient look. “Of course I am! I’m over eighty! When you’re over eighty, you’ll feel old, too!”

  “You’ve never acted it”

  She rubbed her right thigh, the one she’d broken some years before. A break that had put an end to her hands-on running of the ranch. “Some days I feel my age more than others.” She looked at him again. “Surely you’ve found something out. You took her for a ride. I saw you, remember?”

  Morgan’s reply was careful. “Well, Christine seems to have come out of her background in pretty good shape. Seems honest. Puts that little girl’s welfare before her own.”

  “Who’s the girl’s daddy?”

  “I can’t just come out and ask that. She’d know in a second what I’m doing.”

  Frowning, Mae straightened a knickknack on the fireplace mantel. “You’re not listening with something other than your mind, are you, Morgan?” she asked gruffly.

  It wasn’t very often that Morgan experienced a spurt of anger directed against a person he liked and admired. But he felt it now. “No, Mae,” he answered grimly. “It’s not that.”

  She turned to look at him. “You sure?”

  Morgan could feel the muscles in his face tighten. “I’m positive. The last thing I want—”

  “What you want doesn’t always enter into it. She’s a pretty little thing. You’re a young healthy single man. Just be careful, Morgan. She’s the kind of gal that can fool you. But then, you know about that firsthand, don’t you? What with Russell and Adell.” Mae sighed and went back to tinkering with the knickknacks. “Sometimes it’s a blessing never to have married. You might have regrets, but they’re a different sort of regrets. At least you’ve never had to air your dirty linen in public. Think of what’s going on with Thomas and Darlene’s Richard.” She sighed again, shaking her head.

  Morgan’s anger dissipated. Somehow, looking at her today, he saw that Mae did appear to be suffering the full weight of her eighty-plus years. This was the first time he’d seen her with her guard down. He knew Richard’s divorce proceedings were upsetting to her, but he hadn’t realized how much. Did she see it as a chink in the Parker family’s invincibility? And similarly, was that why she was working so hard to disprove Christine’s claim? Did she worry that if Erin was Ira’s child, it would somehow go against her ideal of the way a Parker should behave? And, as the head of the family, did she feel accountable to her ancestors for every bad thing that happened on her watch?