“Maybe,” Jeff answered with a shrug.
Dylan nodded when Luke glanced at him. “Could it have been Gardner?” Luke asked.
Jeff’s eyes narrowed. “You know, I can’t say for certain that it was.”
Dylan glanced at Luke, who had turned to talk to Morgan, giving no indication that he was listening. With his radar up over the sale to his sister of a saddle that may or may not have been Glory’s, Dylan knew the only way to find out was to call Erin and try to get some information from her. Even if it wasn’t a saddle that had belonged to Glory, it was fairly obvious that it had been made by Abe Gardner, who’d made some of the best saddles in a five-state area, and was probably worth a good-sized chunk of money.
When Dylan pushed away from the table, Luke turned to look at him, pointing at Dylan’s lunch. “Where are you going? You haven’t finished.”
Dylan pulled out his cell phone. “I’ll finish it in a few minutes. I need to make a call.”
“Dylan,” Luke called. But Dylan walked away and didn’t answer, focused on what he was going to say to his sister when she answered the phone.
The number rang several times, and he was just about to give up when Erin answered. “Hey, Dylan, what’s up?”
“Maybe you can tell me. Did you buy a saddle Abe Gardner made?”
“How’d you hear about it?” she asked, without answering his question.
“Jeff Morton. He just said he’d run into you and that you’d mentioned buying a saddle.”
Her grunt held contempt. “Where’d you run into Jeff?”
He heard voices in the background and his sister saying something, so he waited to answer. “He’s here at Lou’s with Dusty,” he said when it was quiet again.
“What is it you wanted to know?” she asked.
He could tell she was distracted. “Did you buy a saddle that Abe Gardner made?”
Once again, there was the sound of people in the background. “Listen, Dylan, I can’t talk now,” she said.
He didn’t like to be put off. “But—”
“Yeah, I bought one of Abe’s saddles. We’ll talk about it some other time.”
He could tell by the silence that she’d hung up, so he made sure the call was disconnected, pocketed the phone and strode to the table.
“Who were you talking to?” Luke asked when Dylan took his seat at the table.
“Erin. I was trying to find out who she bought the saddle from.”
“Did you?”
Dylan shook his head and reached for his beer. “No, she had to go.”
“So you don’t know who the saddle belonged to, just that Abe made it?” When Dylan nodded, Luke asked, “Are you thinking it was Glory’s?”
“Could be,” Dylan said. “But I’ll find out.”
He had more questions for his sister and would get to the bottom of it, just as soon as he got home. But for now, Dusty was pulling his chair around to sit next to him.
Giving Dylan a friendly slap on the back, Dusty said, “Now, about that box social next Saturday...”
* * *
LEAVING THE WALKER ranch earlier than usual before Dylan returned, Glory scolded herself for being relieved that he’d been gone most of the day. She couldn’t help it. Spending any time with him so soon after she’d found what she suspected was a secret stash was impossible. She’d tried to hide her disappointment, but she knew she hadn’t succeeded. She also knew it was none of her business, and if it had been anyone else, she would have forgotten about it. That meant only one thing. She cared about him more than she wanted to admit, and that wasn’t good.
Needing to get her mind off her troubles, she remembered the bakery her grandmother had pointed out during their trip to the ice-cream parlor and decided to see if it was open. A pie would make a nice dessert for later, and her grandmother would enjoy it. Besides, she might get a glimpse of Kate Clayborne.
Inside the historic building, the Open sign was visible in the frosted glass door of the bakery. Peering through a window, she could see long, curly auburn hair and knew instantly that it belonged to Kate.
As she turned the doorknob and stepped inside, a jingling chorus sounded overhead as the aroma of pies, cakes and cookies filled her head. Looking up, she smiled at the sight of a group of sleigh bells hanging from the top of the door. If what she remembered about Kate still held true, she should have expected something out of the ordinary.
“Very pretty,” she said.
The redhead behind the counter turned around, and her face broke out in a wide smile. “Glory Caldwell Andrews. I can’t believe it’s you.”
“I could say the same for you, Kate Clayborne McPherson.”
Kate shook her head and laughed. “Amazing. I’m surprised you remember me.”
“You were unforgettable.” Glory hoped Kate wouldn’t take her words the wrong way, but there was something in the way she smiled that assured her that wouldn’t happen.
“I’m truly honored,” Kate replied.
It was Glory’s turn to laugh. “And just why is that?”
“Well, after all, besides being the most popular girl in school, you were a senior, and I was a lowly freshman.”
“True,” Glory said, struggling to keep a straight face. “I’m just happy to see that your hair grew out.”
“Aha!” Kate cried. “I knew you’d remember that. But then I don’t think there’s anyone in town that doesn’t.” She propped her elbows on the counter and rested her chin in her hands. “It’s really good to see you home again.”
Home. Glory felt a quick stab of wistfulness for all the things she’d missed by marrying and moving so far away, but she quickly brushed it aside. “Word spreads fast.”
“It does. I hear you’re doing some work over at the Walker place. How’s that going?”
Glory wasn’t sure how to answer. At the moment, she was wondering if she’d been crazy to take the job. Then again, she knew she was doing a good job, in spite of Dylan’s nonparticipation in the process. “It’s coming along.”
“That’s what Dylan said when we saw him in the café last week.”
“He mentioned it?”
“Briefly. He isn’t much of a talker.”
Smiling, Glory shrugged one shoulder. “No, he isn’t, but he never was, as I remember. He’s even more serious now than when we were all in school.”
Kate nodded. “I guess it’s kind of expected. After the accident and all.”
“I guess.” Glory knew Dylan’s emotional condition was really none of her business—just as his drinking habits weren’t, either. She didn’t want Kate to think she was overcurious, so she changed the topic. “So you married Dusty,” she said. “He was such a bad boy.”
“Wasn’t he?” Kate said, with a soft chuckle. “So the bad boy and the crazy girl hooked up.”
“Stranger things have happened.” Glory had no room to talk about things like that and wondered what Kate would think if she answered that it wasn’t any stranger than the Prom Queen marrying the Prom King, who then cheated on her for the entire seven years they were married.
Instead of thinking about her miserable marriage, Glory thought about happier times. Sometimes they seemed like a lifetime ago, but at that moment, they seemed like yesterday. “Good times,” she said.
“They were. Looking back, anyway. And speaking of good times, do you have your basket ready?”
“Basket?” Glory asked. “I thought Easter was earlier in the year.”
Kate reached across the counter and tapped her on the arm. “For the annual box social, silly.”
Although she and Kate had never been more than acquaintances, just girls who had attended the same small school, talking to her was like talking to an old friend. Life was strange. First Dylan, and now Kate. But the
box social? She didn’t have a reason to participate.
“No, no basket,” she replied.
Kate pressed a hand to her heart and the back of her other hand to her forehead. “Please say you’re kidding!” She leaned across the counter. “You have to have a basket! You’re single, and it’s almost a law that single women are required to participate.” Her eyes widened for a moment, then she straightened and pressed her lips together as she looked away, obviously embarrassed.
“So everyone knows?” Glory asked, keeping her voice low as if that would stop the gossip.
Kate shrugged, but didn’t look directly at her. “You know how it is in small towns.”
“So what are they saying?”
“Only that you’re back and Kyle isn’t, and it appears to be permanent.”
Glory nodded, knowing that an explanation would be needed at some point. But she wasn’t going to offer it or think about it until she had to. “That’s fair. But I really didn’t come in to catch up on the latest gossip. I need to get a pie or something for dessert tonight.”
Kate ducked behind the counter and reappeared with a delicious-looking lattice-crust cherry pie, but didn’t set it on the counter. “Now, back to your basket for the box social...”
“No basket,” Glory replied, standing firm.
Kate turned the pie around slowly, with a smile so conniving, there was no doubt what she was up to. “No basket, no pie.”
Glory tried a new tactic, hoping this one would work. “I don’t even know what I’d put in a basket.”
“Then I’ll help you.”
Shaking her head, Glory sighed. “I’m beyond hope, Kate. It’s been forever since I’ve made anything from scratch.”
Kate leaned closer. “I’ll provide the dessert. Nobody needs to know. And I’m sure we can come up with something you can make. It isn’t like it has to be a gourmet meal. The food isn’t the best part. It’s who bids on the basket and wins.”
Glory couldn’t imagine anybody bidding on something she’d cooked. “I hope they’re accustomed to food poisoning.”
Laughing, Kate put the pie down and flashed a wicked grin. “Honey, with my cooking skills and your decorating flair, you’ll have the best basket there.”
“Oh, all right,” Glory said with a sigh, giving in. “What do we need to do?” But she worried that she was getting herself into something she’d soon regret. Not only that, but she wondered if Kate Clayborne McPherson was as crazy as she’d been fifteen years before.
* * *
DYLAN FELT HIS tension evaporate when he pulled up in front of the ranch. Dusk was settling in, but he could see well enough to know that Glory’s car wasn’t anywhere around. He’d purposely returned to Luke’s after lunch and spent the rest of the afternoon there to give her a chance to finish up and leave for the day. He didn’t know how much a saddle that might have been made by her grandfather—and had possibly belonged to her—meant to her, so he wasn’t ready to approach her about it. Not yet. Either way, he wouldn’t mind being the owner of an Abe Gardner saddle. But he would damn sure find out what was going on as soon as he could.
The smell of fresh paint hit him when he opened the door and stepped inside the kitchen, but it didn’t bother him. He was getting used to it. In spite of the disaster that surrounded him, he suspected it wouldn’t be long before everything was finished and Glory would be gone. Oh, he’d see her in town, now and then, but not almost every day the way he did now. To tell the truth, he’d grown accustomed to having her there. Even at night when she wasn’t there, something about the house felt different. He tried not to think about it or if he’d miss her when she was gone, but sometimes it wasn’t that easy.
Without turning on a light, he made his way into the dining room and up the stairs to what was now his bedroom. He hadn’t planned to spend much time there. The memory of almost kissing her on the very bed he was now sitting on was something he didn’t need. But since the rest of the house was either without furniture or covered in sheets, it was the only place to go. Except for the dining room—and it was filled with everything Glory.
Propping the pillows against the padded headboard, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and leaned back. He had questions, and he felt pretty sure his sister had the answers.
But after hitting the button that would dial his sister’s number, he was rewarded with her voice mail. He left a message.
“If you’re crazy enough to think our conversation this afternoon was over, Erin, you’re wrong,” he said. “And don’t think you can avoid me. I’ll hunt you down, if that’s what it takes.”
He’d tossed his hat aside, kicked off his boots and was pulling off his shirt when his phone rang. A quick glance told him his sister hadn’t wasted much time.
“I hope you’re ready to talk,” he said, in greeting.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
He didn’t miss the attitude in her voice, and he wasn’t going to let her get away with it. “You changed the subject when I asked about the saddle.”
“I was dealing with some other things at the time. So sue me.”
“You’re changing the subject again.”
“Not on purpose.” When he didn’t respond, she sighed. “What is it that you want to know?” she asked with a tone of reluctant surrender in her voice.
Straightforward was his best course, so he repeated the question he’d asked her earlier. “Did you buy a saddle made by Abe Caldwell?”
There was a short silence. “Yes, as a matter of fact I did. And it’s a real nice saddle. Well worth what I paid for it.”
He didn’t care how much she paid or how good the deal was. Not at that moment, anyway. “Who sold it to you?”
“His granddaughter.”
“Glory?”
“Well, as far as I know, that’s the only granddaughter he had.”
“Right. So how did this transaction between you and Glory happen?”
Erin’s sigh was loud and clear over the phone. “We ran into each other in Texas. Did you know her mother divorced Glory’s daddy and lives there now?”
“Seems I heard something about them splitting, some years ago.”
“I never did like that man,” Erin said with a sniff. “There was something about him.”
Dylan couldn’t say he was fond of the man, either, but he hadn’t really known him. Besides, none of that mattered, and Erin knew it. She was stalling. “Let’s get back to the saddle, Erin.”
“Oh, yeah. Well, I happened to meet up with Glory by chance at a barbecue out near Waco, and we got to talking. I mentioned how I’d always wanted a saddle made by her grandfather, but never was lucky enough to have one, and she said she’d sell me hers.”
“She just sold it to you, like that?”
“Yeah.”
“Why would she do that?”
There was a short silence on the other end before Erin answered. “Apparently she needed some money for something.”
Trying hard to ignore the way his stomach tightened, he asked, “Something?”
“Yeah.”
He knew better than to lose his temper with Erin. She’d clam up and not tell him anything. But he was going to get the information he wanted from her, come hell or high water. “Do you know what that something was?”
“I know what she told me it was for.”
His patience was wearing even thinner. “Erin—”
“She wanted to start a decorating business.”
“And I’ll bet our best bull that you sent her here to help her out.”
“Somebody needed to do something, and not just for her. That house—”
“Okay, okay.” His sister had a point, and it was a reminder that she had a soft spot that she kept hidden. She’d do whatever was necessary to keep anyone
from discovering it. But he wasn’t satisfied with her answer yet.
“I know her marriage to Kyle ended,” he said, hoping Erin would understand that he wasn’t trying to get information from her that would hurt someone. “She should’ve had plenty of money from that. Why didn’t she have enough to start her business? What kind of start-up would she need? She’s using that building that belongs to her grandmother, so—”
“I’m only going to tell you what I know and ask that you don’t do or say anything that would hurt her,” Erin said. “Do I have your promise?”
He had a bad feeling he wasn’t going to like what she had to say. “Yeah, I promise.”
Another brief silence had him wondering if they’d lost the connection, but Erin finally spoke. “Her grandmother was about to lose the building. Something about back taxes. I don’t know. And the money from her divorce? She used it to pay for her college degree, something that father of hers would never allow her to get. If you want to know anything else, you’ll have to ask her.”
“I don’t need to know anything else.” It was true. He didn’t. Like his sister, Glory had the same big heart she’d always had, in spite of what he now believed wasn’t the charmed life they’d all thought she’d had.
“Dylan, there’s something else you need to know. She was relieved to sell that saddle to someone that she knew cared. That saddle is one of the last connections she has to her grandpa, and I think it broke her heart to have to sell. But you keep that to yourself, you hear?”
His fingers tightened on his phone. “I will. And, Erin?”
“Yeah?”
“She’s doing a great job with this house.”
He could almost hear her smile before she answered. “I never doubted it.”
Chapter Six
“How’s it going?”
Glory looked up from the papers spread on the dining table that was back in its proper place, surprised to see Dylan so early in the day and standing in the doorway. She hadn’t expected to start the new workweek by encountering her client, and it rattled her a little.
“I’m hoping the kitchen will be ready for the appliances by next week.” Her heart raced as her gaze met his, and she quickly looked down at the papers again, pretending to be studying them.
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