“He also wrote operas. His best known is Cavalleria Rusticana, or Rustic Chivalry,” Mitch recalled. “The music is beautiful. Grandma played her recording until it was all scratched.”
“The composer knew your grandmother?” Kate said. “You mean he might actually have written this song for her? It might not be worth as much money as a Mozart, but as for sentimental value, I think that’s even better.”
Loretta dropped the sheet onto the table. “I guess I was counting on making a discovery, something that would make people notice me. And my voice.”
Uncoiling from the chair, Mitch crossed and picked up the papers. They felt fragile in his hands, and he noticed several torn places.
“La Speranza di Amore,” the song was called. The hope of love.
The composer must have greatly admired Grandma’s voice, and her spirit as well, to write it for her. Perhaps it had been composed in honor of her decision to abandon her career and risk everything for love.
As Mitch glanced over the music, a melody began to play in his mind. Startled, he realized that his grandmother must have hummed this tune or sung it at the piano when he was growing up.
It took only a glance at the spidery writing to bring the words to mind, even though they were in Italian. Without realizing it, he had come to know the piece by heart.
Oddly, this composition brought from the Old World to the new made him feel connected in a way he’d missed when he arrived at the ranch today. It had been important to his grandmother, when she began her life anew, to carry with her a precious reminder of the past.
Mitch wasn’t sure why he felt so moved. He needed time to think about it.
He needed time to think about a lot of things.
BY MIDMORNING ON Monday, Mitch had a good idea of the work that lay ahead. That was, once he proved his claim to the ranch, which might present some problems.
But he still didn’t know what he intended to do about Kate. Home on the range no longer sounded so appealing, but neither did he relish the prospect of spending his life cooped in an office, polishing clauses and researching nitpicks in the law.
After meeting with Mario, he returned to the ranch house. There he showered, put on a suit and tie, and went to find the ladies.
There was no sign of Kate. Loretta sat at the breakfast table nibbling on toast and reading a copy of Farm & Ranch Living magazine.
She took in his lawyer clothes. “Going to your office?”
“The bank, actually.” He leaned against the counter. “There’s a little matter of Doc Rosen’s bank account that I need to clear up.”
“It’s obvious that Billy stole the ranch!” Loretta stormed. “Why should you have to prove anything?”
“Because what seems obvious doesn’t always turn out to be true,” Mitch reminded her.
His cousin ruffled a hand through her chestnut hair. “I guess I haven’t said yet that I’m sorry. Well, I am. I wish I’d confided in you from the beginning.”
“And I wish I’d communicated better,” he said.
They smiled at each other. “I was just a kid ten years ago,” Loretta said. “And in some ways, I’m beginning to realize, so were you.”
It seemed so natural to see her sitting here, where their grandmother used to sit. The place must be nearly as full of memories for Loretta as for him.
But there were other memories in Mitch’s heart, newer ones full of still-unresolved emotions. With a jolt, he realized his mind was viewing another kitchen, one with flowers stenciled on the walls and lace curtains at the windows.
Kate’s home. Would he ever see it again?
“I’ve been thinking,” his cousin continued. “I really love this place.”
“As much as you love music?” he teased.
To his surprise, she didn’t laugh off the comment. “Singing is my passion, but that’s a hard life. It’s competitive and it’s insecure.”
“Isn’t that part of the fun?”
Loretta set down the magazine, her serious expression making her look older. Grown-up, even. “You worry about losing your voice, about not learning a role in time, about having some critic trash you. You jet all over the world, sometimes on short notice, if you’re lucky enough to get a role at all. I think it could get hard to find your balance.”
“But it’s what you’ve always wanted.” Mitch frowned. “Your voice is an amazing gift.”
“I’m not quitting,” his cousin assured him. “But I was fantasizing about discovering this Mozart song, giving concerts with it and getting famous just like that. Now I have to take my chances like everybody else. I’m still game to try, but I want the ranch to come home to.”
There was a point that needed to be put right. “You can live here part-time or full-time, whatever you like. The ranch is half yours, and I intend to put that on the deed.”
Clear eyes met his. “Thanks, Mitch. And you can count on me. I plan to be just as involved in the renovations and the day-to-day work as you are. Or Kate. You are going to marry her, aren’t you?”
He couldn’t give an answer, not yet. “Where is she, by the way?”
“She went into town,” Loretta replied. “To get some household supplies. And I think she wanted privacy to make a phone call back home.”
Mitch’s fists clenched. Kate was calling Moose. He had no right to interfere, but he didn’t give a damn.
He loved the woman. He had to tell her, had to win her, had to prevent her from marrying that idiot.
Grabbing his hat, he clapped it onto his head. “I’ll see you later.”
“Good luck,” Loretta said.
He wasn’t sure whether she meant at the bank, or with Kate. Both, he thought. He needed luck with both.
Chapter Fifteen
Kate couldn’t believe she was standing in a shop window making the most important phone call of her life.
When she’d decided to drive into town to pick up some personal items, it had seemed like a good idea to find a pay phone. That way, she wouldn’t feel inhibited by the possibility that Mitch might overhear.
Not that she planned to say anything she didn’t want him to know. But breaking off with Moose was her own decision, free and clear of anything that might happen between her and Mitch. She didn’t want him to feel responsible.
What she hadn’t counted on was that small towns didn’t exactly sport pay phones on every comer. Gulch City appeared to have only one, at the gas station, and it had been monopolized for the past half hour by a trucker with a bad case of honey-I-miss-you-itis.
In frustration, she’d inquired at the pharmacy. They didn’t have a pay phone, but the sympathetic owner had offered to lend her a regular one with a long extension cord, if she bought a calling card to pay the toll charges.
And so here Kate stood, flanked on one side by the high counter and, on the other, by a plate glass window displaying this week’s special on trusses. She wasn’t exactly in full view of the town, but this hardly qualified as privacy, either.
However, the owner was listening to country music on a headset and there was no one else in the store. She supposed it was less public than standing in front of the gas station, and not nearly as smelly.
It was 10:15 a.m. Texas time, but only 8:15 back in California. Kate tried Moose at home.
Listening to the first ring, she got a twitchy feeling in her stomach. What exactly was she going to say? How would he take it?
On the second ring, someone picked up. “Hello?” said a woman.
For a moment, Kate couldn’t catch her bearings. Then she said, “I must have misdialed.”
“What number were you calling?” To Kate’s hypersensitive ears, the woman sounded uncomfortable. And a little familiar, but she couldn’t place the voice.
Kate recited Moose’s number.
“Uh...” The woman coughed. “Were you trying to reach Moose?”
“This is Moose Harmon’s house?” As if there were likely to be someone else named Moose with a similar phone
number!
But Kate couldn’t imagine who the woman was. Moose had hired a cleaning service, not a housekeeper, and he didn’t have a sister.
“Kate?” said the woman. “Ohmigosh. Moose! Moose! It’s Kate!”
A loud Bang! indicated the phone had been dropped onto a hard surface. Lovely, Kate thought. How strange, Kate thought. And then: Either I’m hallucinating or the world has turned upside down.
The phone rasped as it was picked up. “Uh, Kate?” Moose sounded hoarse.
“Did I wake you?”
“No, no, I was in the shower. Uh...where are you?”
“Texas.” Kate tried to shut out the image that sprang to mind, of Moose’s oversize frame wrapped in a bath towel, dripping water onto the floor. “Who was that woman?”
He cleared his throat. “I’ll ask the questions around here, thank you.”
Now he sounded more like himself. That didn’t mean she had to let him push her around, however. “I’ve wrapped up the case,” Kate said. “Mitch Connery has been cleared of murder charges.”
“No kidding? You really solved a case?”
“I did.” Not all by herself, but this was no time for modesty.
“Boy, we sure could have used you around here, with all those other kidnappings,” he said.
“What do you mean?” Kidnappings? In Grazer’s Comers?
“You should have been here, Kate!” he enthused. “I’ve never seen anything like it! Three weekends in a row, three different weddings shot to...well, it’s all working itself out, I guess. Anyhow, you’d think people would have enough to gossip about without...” He stopped as if he’d been on the verge of revealing too much. “Some people are small-minded, that’s all I can say.”
Kate wondered if this conversation was being bounced off a satellite and, en route, overheard by aliens. If so, they probably understood it about as well as she did.
Through the window, she noticed that Mitch’s camper-laden pickup was parked in front of the bank. A pang of nostalgia shot through her as memories crowded back. A rainy night in the middle of no-where... a cookout in Santa Fe...
“Kate?” Moose prompted. “You still there?”
“Some people are small-minded about what?” she asked. “You mean about that woman you’re sleeping with?”
He gasped. “Kate!”
“Why else would she be there at eight-fifteen in the morning, while you were taking a shower?”
A relieved sigh came across the phone. “I should have known you’d figure it out. Listen, I didn’t plan this, believe me. But you did leave me at the altar. In fact, it was downright embarrassing, you running off with that man! You can hardly blame me for accepting a little comfort from someone else!”
“Is it Betsy?” she said.
“Uh, yes.”
“I hope you’ll both be very happy.”
“You’re not mad?” Moose asked.
“Not at all.” In fact, if Betsy were standing here, Kate would have thrown her arms around the woman and thanked her.
“Really? That’s great. Oh, one more thing, Kate.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m resigning as mayor.” A note of hurt crept into his voice. “Like I said, people can be so petty!”
“About Betsy?”
“Sure. And not having a professional band to play in the park. And you disappearing. Everything. They’re always whining. I’m tired of shouldering everyone else’s burdens.” He was picking up steam. “Including yours! It’s time you got back here and hired a professional deputy, like we agreed!”
She hadn’t exactly agreed; she’d been bulldozed. But that no longer seemed important. “I’ll take care of it. Give Betsy my best, Moose.”
“I’m right here!” chirped a female voice on the extension. “Thanks, Kate! You’re a great sport!”
“Get off the phone, Betsy!” roared Moose.
“Bye,” said Kate, and hung up before she found herself in the middle of somebody else’s argument.
She felt an odd mixture of liberation and sadness. After all these years, Moose had dumped her with scarcely a second thought.
On the other hand, she’d dumped him, too. But in a way, Kate envied him. He and Betsy worked together. They shared a hometown, although perhaps not the same friends. It would be relatively easy enough to work things out.
Not like her and Mitch.
But we will, she thought with a spurt of determination. If he really wants to.
Then she glanced out the window again and saw something utterly strange. And wonderful.
Mitch stood in the middle of Main Street with a guitar looped over his shoulder, like a troubadour. He was staring through the glass at her.
When their eyes met, he strummed a couple of chords and began to sing. The song reached her muffled but rich with his baritone, and his longing.
For a heartbeat, Kate couldn’t move. Then, stiffly, as if she’d been given the body of a stranger, she walked to the pharmacy’s open door.
Behind her, she heard the owner say, “Ain’t that Mitch Connery? Why’s he singin’ in Eye-talian?”
She stepped onto the sidewalk. Now she could hear him clearly. So could the whole town.
A woman with a baby carriage stood transfixed. Two dirty-faced little boys stopped bouncing a ball to listen. Outside the video rental store, an elderly woman holding a copy of Sense and Sensibility paused with bliss radiating from her still-youthful eyes.
Mitch’s tall, confident body dominated the street, the town, the world. His face shone with hope and tenderness and a hint of wistful uncertainty as his warm voice filled the empty spaces of Kate’s soul.
It was the most beautiful song she had ever heard, because she knew it was for her. She only understood one word, amore, but that was enough.
The melody ended, much too soon. From the sidewalk and the shops came a scattering of applause. Mitch didn’t seem to notice.
Never taking his gaze from hers, he went down on one knee, right in the middle of the street. It was a good thing they didn’t have much traffic in Gulch City.
“Kate Bingham,” he said, “will you marry me?”
Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment she couldn’t speak.
“You have to say yes,” said the lady with the baby. “Or you’ll ruin my day.”
“Of course she’ll say yes.” The elderly woman hugged the tape. “If she doesn’t, she’ll regret it all her life.”
Kate nodded. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Louder,” said Mitch.
“Louder?”
“I’m not sure I heard you.”
“Yes!” she cried, and ran into the street. He barely stood up in time to catch her, and then he had to turn sideways or risk hitting her with his guitar.
“Yes!” she shouted again.
He folded her against him. A panel delivery truck turned a corner, and Mitch steered them both to the sidewalk, half-carrying her. The townspeople discreetly went about their business, smiling and humming.
“I broke up with Moose,” she said, holding on with all her might. She couldn’t wait to get this man alone. Her husband-to-be. The one she’d always been meant to marry. “Mitch, we’ll work something out, about where to live. We need to talk things over, think about it, maybe experiment a little.”
“That won’t be necessary,” he said. “I still love the ranch but it isn’t my home. My home is where you are.”
It was exactly what she wanted to hear. But Kate couldn’t let Mitch sacrifice everything he’d worked for, these past ten years.
“How can you do that?” she asked. “It means so much to you, and Loretta.”
He chuckled. “I think we swapped goals. She got the ranch and I got the song. Kate, I haven’t been a cowboy for a decade. I was so fixated on regaining the ranch, I never stopped to think about whether I could be happy there after all this time. Now that I’ve got it back...”
“You have?” she asked.
Mitch
held out the bankbook, the one they’d gotten from Sarah Rosen. Curious, she flipped it open.
The entries had been updated. Beginning with the previous balance of fifteen years ago, someone had made monthly deposits of several hundred dollars for the next four years.
They ended eleven years ago. After that, deposits of one dollar showed up yearly.
“Your dad paid off the loan into the doctor’s account?” Kate said. “What about these one dollar deposits?”
“The banker’s young. He took over for his father, and he never connected Doc Rosen’s unclaimed account with Billy Parkinson seizing the ranch,” Mitch explained. “But he didn’t want the account to go dormant, so when he couldn’t reach Sarah Rosen, he started putting in a dollar of his own money every year to keep it alive.”
“Here’s your proof!” Kate said. “Your Dad didn’t default.”
Mitch nodded. “Not only that, but there’s a hefty balance. I’m sure Sarah can use it. That banker felt great when I told him how much this would mean to her.”
They started toward the pickup truck. “You’re going to give the ranch to Loretta?” Kate asked.
“Half of it, anyway.” He held the door for her. “I’d like for you and me to spend summers here, if I can take the time off from my law clients.”
“Law clients?”
He put the guitar in back and came around to the driver’s seat. “I figure Grazer’s Corners could probably use another attorney.”
“It could use a sheriff even more,” she said.
Sunlight raised golden gleams in his eyes. “I thought you were the sheriff.”
“I’d like to hire you as my deputy.” The idea sprang into her brain full-blown. “The town can pay for your training and, once you’re up to speed, I’ll stand down in your favor. I’m sure you’ll get elected.”
“The husband of the school principal and all that?” he murmured as he started the engine.
“The best darn sheriff the town’s ever had, and all that,” she corrected.
He backed out and straightened the truck. She wondered if he was going to refuse.
It was up to him, Kate told herself as they rumbled out of town. As long as she had Mitch’s gentle understanding to rely on, and his arms around her at night, and his mouth tracing fire along her breasts, and his body hard and tender as he drove every rational thought from her brain...
The Cowboy & The Shotgun Bride (The Brides of Grazer's Corners #1) Page 20
