Barri Bryan - Return to Paradise.html

by Return to Paradise (NCP) (lit)

  Kate agreed. "I never saw an unattractive bride."

  Kate stretched the conversation out as long as she dared, talking of everything from trivial incidents to world events, even the weather, before telling Aunt Cat that she must go.

  As Aunt Cat accompanied Kate to the door, the insistent ringing of the telephone caused the old lady to excuse herself, and retrace her steps.

  From the living room, bits of conversation drifted into the foyer, and invaded Kate's anxious ear.

  "Yes?" Like so many elderly people, Aunt Cat shouted into the receiver. "Henry's not here."

  After a lengthy pause, Aunt Cat shouted again. "He left last night around seven." Then after a shorter interval, "He didn't say."

  Kate strained to hear every tiny nuance of sound. Thinking as she listened so intently, that Hank had been out all night. She didn't want to imagine where he might have been, who he had been with, or what he might have done.

  Aunt Cat was shouting once more. "No, Gina called. Why don't you call over there? Do you have that number?"

  The answer to Aunt Cat's last question must have been yes, for before Kate could collect her scattered wits and still her racing heart, the elderly woman had hung up the telephone, and returned to say her belated goodbyes. "Come again soon," she called after Kate who was making a speedy get away.

  "I will." Kate tossed the words over her shoulder as she raced for the watering trough, and Ringo.

  Kate turned Ringo toward Paradise. She couldn't shake the dust of Circle S from her feet fast enough.

  She had ridden a good mile before she slowed Ringo to a walk, and gave him his head. Ringo knew the way home, and that's where he would go.

  Why was she so hurt, and so surprised? Hank had never lied to her. He had told her, even before she became involved with him, that he was having an affair, of sorts, with Gina.

  The sun had climbed high into the clear blue sky, and was beating down unmercifully. Kate had the inane thought that if Hank was with her, he could tell her what time it was just by looking at the sky.

  She wondered, as she rode, if she had been so inadequate as a woman, and as a lover, that Hank wanted Gina also? A frightening assortment of doubts rose up to assail her, each uncertainty feeding on the other, until she put her hands over her ears, and cried out in pain.

  Her pathetic lament echoed across the open spaces, and with the sound of her own voice ringing in her ears, came a settled knowledge, she would not, could not, endure again the kind of trauma that had marked her break with Jim. This time she would take matters into her own hands. But how? Should she deliver an ultimatum, and tell Hank to choose between her and Gina?

  Suppose he chose Gina? And why wouldn't he? She was younger, prettier, and probably better in bed.

  A cold shudder ran through Kate's body, causing her to shiver in the intense heat. Could she endure another rejection? She knew the answer to that. It was an irrevocable no. Jim's betrayal had left her with scars that were as permanent as they were invisible. To be spurned a second time would destroy her.

  That left her only one choice. She had to break off with Hank. Their brief, lovely affair was over. She must accept that. How easy that was to say, but it was torment to contemplate. It would be torture to abide by that decision. She had already let him become a very important part of her life.

  What a fool she was. Once should have taught her that she could not compete against a younger woman. Obviously, it had not. She had been stupid enough to fall into the same snare again. Only this time experience had schooled her in the impossibility of winning against such a rival. She wouldn't hold on, or beg, or strive to prevail, she would cut and run while she still had a measure of pride and an iota of self respect left.

  Ringo was almost to the barn before Kate realized she was home. She led him inside, unsaddled him, rubbed him down, and put away her saddle. As she worked the words of Aunt Cat's telephone conversation kept playing over and over in her head, like a broken record.

  Fragments of her conversation with Jim had taken their place by the time she opened the back door.

  Belle was sitting at the table, drinking coffee and reading a paperback novel.

  "Hi, Mamma." Kate reached for a cheerfulness she never quite achieved.

  Belle waved her hand toward the stove. "Coffee's on the back burner."

  Kate poured her coffee and sat down across from Belle.

  After scanning several pages, Belle laid the book on the table. "I had to get my heroine out of a terrible mess."

  "Where's Cody?" Kate looked around the kitchen.

  "He went to a livestock auction over in Pleasanton."

  "And you didn't go with him?"

  "He went with York Taylor. The man came by to see you, I think. He was going to an auction, and he invited Cody to go along." Belle pushed her half empty coffee cup back. "What did Jim want?" No one could ever accuse Belle of being subtle.

  Kate puffed out an exasperated breath. "How did you know?"

  "Cody went to the barn. He saw Suzie's car." Belle could be merciless. "That man reminds me of an egg-sucking hound dog, making everybody think he was gone, then slipping back when no one was watching."

  "He wanted to talk to me." Kate turned the paperback around to face her. "What are you reading, Mamma?"

  "Don't try to change the subject. I am reading that." Belle tapped the open book with her forefinger. "What did Jim want?"

  There would be no stopping Mamma until Kate related what had happened with Jim. "He wanted me to come back to Dallas." Kate poured cream into her coffee. "Jim has changed, Mamma."

  "Like a leopard changes his spots." Belle's eyes slitted. "Are you going?"

  "No, Mamma, never."

  "You told him that?" Surprise made Belle's voice brisk.

  "Yes, Mamma, I told him."

  "I imagine that went over like a lead balloon. What other tricks did he try?"

  Belle's perceptive abilities constantly amazed Kate. "I don't know what you mean." Kate tried to avoid Belle's steady stare. "I must read this." She fingered the book nervously.

  "Don't lose my place, Kate, and don't try to avoid answering. Jim didn't give up just like that." Belle cracked the air with the snapping of her fingers. "He wants you back, and I know he didn't just walk away when you said no." Pulling the book from Kate's fidgeting fingers, she asked. "Did the bastard offer you money again?"

  Belle's use of what she considered profanity told of her abiding hate for Jim McClure. "I'm glad he didn't wrap you around his little finger again."

  "He did want to give me money. He wanted to come back to Paradise to visit. He wants me to marry him again."

  "Oh, does he?" Belle raised a skeptical eyebrow. "And you, Kate?" Her voice softened. "What do you want?"

  "What I can't have, as usual. But it's not Jim McClure." It felt so good to say those words, and to mean them.

  "So you finally left Jim."

  Mamma, I left Jim three years ago."

  "He threw you out three years ago. You left him this morning." It was typical Belle reasoning, missing the outer circle of logic, and hitting the bull's eye of truth.

  "And it feels so good." Kate turned Belle's book around. "Who wrote this?"

  Belle grabbed for her novel. "What do you want this time that you can't have?" Laying her book in her lap, she complained, "Now I've lost my place." She demanded, as she ran her fingers through the pages, "What, Kate?"

  "It was a figure of speech Mamma."

  "A figure of speech named Hank Sinclair?"

  "Mamma, don't start." Kate pled fatigue, and escaped to her room where she stretched out across her bed, and fell asleep.

  She was awakened an hour later by Belle calling her name.

  The moment Kate stepped through the living room door, York rose to greet her. "Kate, so good to see you. I was waiting for you to awaken."

  Cody and Belle sat side by side, on the couch, looking too smug.

  "You were?" Caution edged Kate's voice.
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br />   Cody laid his hand on Belle's arm, as she opened her mouth to speak. Too hastily, he said, "York has invited us to attend a Cattleman's Association meeting." His grip on Belle's arm was an attempt to silence her, no doubt. "Isn't that nice of him?"

  Belle lifted Cody's fingers from her arm. "York wants to sponsor us as new members." The words were laced with sarcasm.

  Kate cringed inwardly, expecting some caustic barb or overt innuendo to follow Belle's cynical announcement. None was forthcoming. Perching one the arm of the overstuffed chair, she tried to smile. "That's kind of you. When?"

  "Next Friday. I thought we could drive over to St. Agnes." York spread his hands in an expressive gesture. "I would like to take you to dinner also. There's a nice restaurant in Saint Agnes, far out on Grant street. After dinner we can drive on over to Jourdanton to the meeting."

  For reasons known only to herself, Belle suddenly decided to do a complete about-face. "Why don't you stay for supper? You can tell us more about the Cattlemans' Association."

  "I don't think..." York began, only to be interrupted by Cody.

  "You don't want to pass up one of Belle's good meals. She makes biscuits that melt in your mouth."

  With an uncomfortable shrug and a nod, York accepted the invitation.

  Belle moved in the direction of the kitchen. "I'm going to make those biscuits now."

  "I'll help." Cody followed along behind her, adding, as he passed Kate, "You stay here Kate, and keep York company."

  Kate slid into the chair. "You've made Mamma and Cody very happy."

  York hesitated, measuring Kate for a moment with his eyes. "And you, Kate?"

  "And me?" Her mind was exploring disquieting possibilities. "What about me?"

  "Did I make you happy?" There was an unfamiliar note of humility in his voice. "I hope I did."

  Kate smiled to hide her confusion. "Yes."

  "Yes, what?" York prompted, then without giving her time to reply, asked, "May I speak frankly?"

  "I think that would be a good idea."

  He tented his fingers, and watched them as they seemed to move of their own volition. "I wanted to say this to you before now, but I thought I should wait until after you saw your daughter safely married." He ran an agitated hand through his hair. "I'm doing this all wrong."

  Gently Kate urged, "Just say it. I'm listening."

  "I'm a very old-fashioned man. I spoke to your mother and Cody earlier."

  "That's what you want to tell me?" She found his shyness appealing.

  A twitch pulled one side of his mouth upward. "No."

  "Then what?"

  "If I were twenty, I'd say, will you go steady with me?" I'm over fifty, so I'll ask if I can court you with serious intentions."

  Her first impulse was to ask for some time to think. "You talked to Mamma and Cody? What did you say to them?"

  "That I want to keep company with you, and that my intentions are strictly honorable. That I would be pleased if they would chaperon the first official date of our courtship." His smile was sweet and beguiling.

  The smile, more than his words caused Kate to reconsider. She would be out of her mind to turn down such a sincere request. "I can't promise..."

  "I'm not asking for promises, just an opportunity to woo and win you."

  What did she have to lose? "We can try it and see."

  Coming swiftly across the room, York took her in his arms, and kissed her on the lips. "Thank you, Kate. Now you have made me very happy."

  Kate touched her fingers to her lips, then let them trail down her throat, as she searched for some reaction other than a mild sense of pleasure at being held. It wasn't there.

  The magic that stirred her to a flame of passion by a touch seemed to belong peculiarly to Hank Sinclair. She took York by the hand. "Let's go to the kitchen."

  She'd be a fool all over again if she passed up the opportunity to have a man like York around. He couldn't give her ecstasy, but he did offer commitment and marriage. Sometimes life made no sense at all.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Kate sat beside York in his plush automobile, and stared out the window, watching the fence posts become an uneven blur as the car gained speed.

  "Is everything all right back there?" York called to Belle and Cody, who were securely settled in the back seat.

  "Everything is great, "Cody chuckled. "I never rode in a Chrysler New Yorker before. This could get to be habit forming."

  "It's the top of the line," York answered, "and way ahead of second best."

  "And you?" York turned his attention toward Kate. "Are you comfortable?"

  "Oh, yes, very. Thank you." Why did his solicitous attitude annoy her?

  Belle asked, "Is your seat belt fastened, Kate?"

  "It's fastened, Mamma, and my door's locked." A yawn caught Kate, causing her to place the back of her hand over her mouth.

  "Are you tired?" York aimed a fleeting glance in her direction.

  Bored would have been a more accurate definition. "No." She should be enjoying this evening. All she could summon up was a desire for it to be over.

  "The restaurant in St. Agnes is a land mark," York told them. "It has been an inn since the eighteen fifties when it was a stop for stagecoaches."

  Kate wanted to ask, who cares? Instead she murmured, "How interesting." The raucous sights and sounds of Johnny Blue's flashed through her mind.

  "I have made quite a study of stagecoach routes through Texas. Do you know the history of the old San Diego Mail Route? It's most interesting." York launched into a lengthy narrative.

  Kate laid her head against the back of the seat. From nowhere came the remembrance of how Hank's rough hands felt sliding down her back and caressing her buttocks. His lovemaking was like an addiction. Silently she congratulated herself on stopping before she became hopelessly hooked. She pulled her thoughts back to York and his recitation of dry facts in time to say, "That's interesting," and hope it was a suitable answer.

  The restaurant in St. Agnes was rustic and picturesque, with heavy oak furniture and a wild array of cattle brands burned randomly into three of the four wood paneled walls. Cody and Belle spent much of their time during dinner discussing the brands, and the deer, elk, and bear heads that were mounted on the fourth wall.

  "Look at that." Cody pointed to the head of a magnificent animal mounted over the fireplace at the end of the dining room. "That's a royal elk, for sure."

  "What," Kate asked between bites, "is a royal elk?"

  "It has to do with the points on his rack." Cody pointed his fork toward the mounted head.

  "His rack?" Kate questioned.

  Laughing, York explained, "His horns, Kate."

  "Sixteen points makes him a royal elk," Cody explained.

  Kate reasoned she could add that fact to the list of useless trivia she had already garnered this night, then chiding herself for being so petty and mean spirited, replied, "How interesting."

  Cody and York were too engrossed in the conversation to notice Kate's ill temper, but Belle sent her a look that was just short of murderous.

  Kate's reply was to poke her tongue out at her mother, then quickly draw it in, and look around to see if anyone else had seen her childish display.

  The food was delicious, from the well prepared steak to the jalapeno cornbread and banana pudding. Cody and Belle were obviously having a grand time. Kate redoubled her efforts to at least appear to be enjoying herself.

  The drive from St. Agnes to Jourdanton seemed endless.

  As they walked from the car to the meeting hall, Belle pulled Kate to a stop, and whispered, "What is wrong with you?"

  Kate scowled at her mother. "Nothing."

  Turning, York asked, "Is there a problem?"

  "No problem," Kate scowled a second warning in her mother's direction.

  The meeting hall teamed with people. Most of them were huddled in noisy little groups laughing and talking in friendly, familiar fashion. A few lone souls languished against th
e walls, or stood around the bar.

  York's entrance brought respectful greetings from those standing near the doorway. He began to introduce Kate, Belle, and Cody. He bearing was one of a man of position and power. Even though he received an enormous amount of deference and a grudging respect, it was patently obvious that he was not on a friendly basis with anyone present.

  After a few introductions, Cody recognized an old friend at the other end of the hall. "There's Mr. Havel. I worked for him three years ago." With the promise that they would return before the meeting convened, Cody led Belle away.

  With York holding fast to her arm, Kate began to make her way through the crowded hall, nodding, murmuring greetings, wondering as she went, how one short evening could stretch into an eternity.

  From behind her a voice said, "Hello, Kate." The hair on Kate's neck rose. Without turning, she replied, "Hello, Hank."

  "Sinclair." York dropped Kate's arm, and turned to face Hank. "To what do we owe the honor of your presence?"

  "I belong to this association, Taylor."

  Kate began to turn, then stopped, She was caught on the keen edge between joy and despair; not wanting to meet those burning green eyes, and at the same time hungry, starving to gaze into them. "How's Aunt Ca..."

  Kate's question dwindled into a tiny gasp as she turned to see Gina standing beside Hank, holding onto his arm. "Hello, Kate." She flashed Kate a dazzling smile. "So nice to see you again."

  "Aunt Cat's not feeling too well." Hank's intimidating stare was unnerving. "She said you came to call. Sorry I missed you."

  Remembering what Hank was doing that caused him to be absent that day sent a bolt of jealously ripping through Kate. "I had to make my report, I had some extra time, so I stopped." Why, she wondered, did she feel she had to explain a neighborly visit?

  "I hope you come back soon. Aunt Cat enjoys your company."

  York interrupted to explain, "Belle and Cody are here somewhere. I'm sponsoring them as new members." He put a possessive arm around Kate's shoulders. "And Kate too, of course."