“And took all the screws out of the ladder,” Hank added.
“He did that?” Mary gasped.
“I caught him doin’ it!” Hank said.
Carmelita looked around. “Where is the TV crew? Do we want them to hear this?”
“They’re all in different places. Not here, thank the good Lord,” John said.
“Well, what are we going to do about it?” Mary demanded. “Call the sheriff?”
Karen’s heart jumped again, just as it had when Carmelita asked about the TV crew. She couldn’t believe the town would turn against Pete, but then, by his stubborn acts, it looked as if he’d given them just cause.
The idea of calling the sheriff seemed to bother everyone, even the most irritated. Pete was a citizen of Twilight. Its oldest citizen. He was one of them.
“Maybe—maybe we could try talkin’ to him again,” Hank muttered. “Tell him what’ll happen if he does it again. That then we’ll have to call the sheriff.”
As soon as the words were out, every eye turned on Karen, who took a mental step back. She’d wanted to talk to Pete—to tell him to stop making the others think she felt as he did. But this? To officially warn him off?
“Would you do it, Karen? Would you talk to Pete?” Pepper asked, late to the group but already aware of what was going on.
“I...yes, I suppose,” Karen said. “But he doesn’t listen to me very well, either. He—”
“It’s one last try,” Hank said regretfully.
Karen nodded and the group dispersed—the men back to their work inside the hotel and the women to their various enterprises. All except for John, who asked if she wouldn’t mind if he came upstairs with her for a minute.
“I want to get a good feel for Augusta again,” John said, easing his lanky body into a chair. “We used to have these long talks, you know—her and me. About this and that...all sorts of things. She kept me pretty up-to-date with what you were doin’. I knew when you left the university—not why, she kept that to herself—when you moved to Kerrville, when you went to work in that antique place directly after.” He rubbed a hand over his thinning gray hair. “That’s why I feel I can talk to you straight about this. Not pull any punches. Just like I wouldn’t with Augusta. The town’s in a bad way, Karen. If this deal don’t work out with the movie studio and with ‘Western Rambles,’ it’ll probably die for real. We need to get tourists here. For sure, a lot more than we have now. Otherwise people are gonna start leavin’, even people who’ve been in Twilight for years. It costs more to live here now than it used to—electricity costs more, water, the weekly trips for supplies. Taxes are up, too. It’s all relative, of course, but our pocketbooks aren’t growin’ any. Pete doesn’t see that. Everythin’ he uses is pretty much the same as it’s always been. His needs don’t change. I hate like. hell that we can’t get him to see we’re not bein’ selfish. That all we’re tryin’ to do is survive!”
Karen perched on the footstool next to his chair. John had always been something of an uncle to her. At least, she’d looked on him that way, whether he knew it or not.
“I didn’t know things were so bad. Aunt Augusta never said—”
“Augusta wanted to help out, but we wouldn’t let her. To my way of thinkin’, if you’re a perfectly healthy adult, you should be able to stand on your own feet. That’s the way the others feel, too. We’re not askin’ for a handout, just a break.”
“What can I do?” Karen asked.
“Talk to Pete like you said you would. Get him to see how our patience is startin’ to wear thin... and what he’ll end up doin’ to the town if he doesn’t stop it.”
“I’ll try,” Karen promised.
John stood up and patted her lightly on the shoulder. “Augusta would be proud of you,” he said. “But then, she always was. You couldn’t do wrong in her eyes.” The moment would have remained sweet if John hadn’t continued. “Too bad she’s not here to help you sort through this Parker problem you have. Almost every family’s got at least one bad apple, and you seem to have had the misfortune of findin’ one of theirs first thing.”
Bumfuzzled by Karen’s stunned reaction, John plodded on, making matters worse. “It’s somethin’ Bette says Lee feels strongly about We were just talkin’ about it in bed last night.”
Karen walked stiltedly to the door and opened it. “I—I should probably get going if you want those nails back,” she said.
John watched her as he moved past her onto the landing. “We’d sure appreciate it.” Then, in an attempt to make amends for whatever it was he sensed he’d said or done wrong, he added, “I’m sorry if I. butted in.”
He looked so genuinely contrite that Karen couldn’t resist giving him a quick hug...only to have her attention caught by a man who at that moment was walking through her aunt’s backyard.
The man stopped, almost in midstride, and looked back at her.
Lee Parker! And she could see by the whimsical expression that suddenly flooded his features that if he’d been closer, he’d have made some kind of smart remark about her and John hugging.
John, noting her detachment, glanced around to see what she was looking at. Then in pleased surprise, he cried, “Lee! Just the person I wanted to see. I have an idea I wanna talk to you about—” And he broke away from Karen to hurry downstairs.
While John poured out his idea, Lee’s gaze stayed fixed on Karen, whose own body went on instant alert. She found herself acutely aware of everything about him. The way his jeans were set low on his slim hips and fitted his long, strong legs. The way his T-shirt hugged what she could see of his chest. The way the plaid cotton shirt, worn loose and unbuttoned, hung from his wide shoulders. His thick dark hair and strongly chiseled features... and those pale, pale eyes that were in such stark contrast to his dark Parker looks.
She remembered how they’d smoldered with unfulfilled passion, and how, just moments before, that mouth had—
Her body burned as if a flame had stroked it. It trembled, ached.
And before she could embarrass herself completely, she shut the door.
CHAPTER EIGHT
KAREN MADE SURE Lee Parker was safely out of the way before she ventured outside. A part of her wanted to continue to hole up, the rest knew her mission couldn’t wait.
She crossed the different backyards, then turned on an angle after the hotel and soon was on the path that led to Pete’s place. As she drew near, the dog started to bark, but he made no real effort to intervene.
Pete stood unblinking in the doorway. “I thought you was leavin’,” he said gruffly.
“I changed my mind.”
The dog risked a speculative sniff of Karen’s leg but scooted away when she reached to pet him. He was as leery of strangers as his owner.
“Why?” Pete demanded.
“For personal reasons,” she answered.
He screwed up his face and squinted at her. “I know. I heard. It’s about that TV man. You was plannin’ on marryin’ him once before and he left you standin’ at the altar.”
Strangely, the way Pete put it, it didn’t hurt as much as it once had. She even managed a grim little grin and corrected, “It wasn’t him, it was his brother.”
Pete waved dismissal. “One’s as good as the other.”
Not exactly a sentiment Karen wanted to grapple with right then. “I’m not here because of my problems, Pete. May I come in? Or do we have to say everything we need like this?”
“I don’t have nothin’ to say.”
“Do you realize the town is this close to calling the sheriff?” She measured a minute amount between her forefinger and thumb. “Is that what you want, Pete? To be arrested? To be put in jail?”
“Hell, no!”
“Then why are you sabotaging everything they try to do? Do you expect them to overlook it? They only have a short time left until the preview.”
“You know what I think of the pree-view!” Pete exaggerated the word from orneriness.
“
The whole area knows what you think. You’ve made yourself perfectly clear. But just because you don’t want it doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be. You don’t own Twilight, Pete, not any more than the rest of them do. You’re outnumbered. The count is twelve to one.”
“That only makes thirteen!” Pete snapped. “That’s not enough.”
“I wasn’t counting baby Jesse or Aunt Augusta.”
“You should have a vote.”
“Pete,” she said patiently, “I don’t live here.”
“You do now. So where’s your vote? You have to take a side.”
Just what she’d been hoping to avoid from the beginning! “Pete, it doesn’t matter which side I’m on. Even if I’m with you, that still only makes two. And if I’m not—”
“You’re not?” he returned, rocking back in surprise.
She sighed. “Can I come in, Pete? I feel funny talking like this, like we’re not friends anymore.”
“Maybe that’s the way it is,” he said stubbornly. “Maybe it’s me that don’t know you so good. I thought I did, but I sure can see now that I mighta been wrong.”
“Pete, please,” she pleaded. “Listen carefully. John says the town is going to become a real ghost town if something isn’t done soon. People are going to move away because they can’t afford to stay. They’re your friends, Pete. Don’t you care?”
“I don’t have any friends,” Pete grumbled.
Karen lost what little patience with him she had left. “No, you certainly don’t! And from the way you’ve been acting, you don’t deserve any, either! Did you take their nails so they couldn’t work? Did you hide the extension cord, make off with the hammers? Did you remove all the screws from the ladder? That’s something a child would do! Not a grown man! Not a man who’s seen as much as you have, who’s done as much. I always looked up to you, Pete. Cheered you for sticking to your way of life. Don’t ruin it all with your stubbornness. You can’t freeze Twilight in time. No matter how hard you try, it’s not going to happen. Towns change, people change!”
“Augusta would be rollin’ in her grave if she had one.” Pete shot back.
“Aunt Augusta would’ve wanted what was best for the people of Twilight. If there was a chance to save the town, she’d be doing all she could to make sure it happened. You know that, Pete, and don’t try to tell me you don’t.” She paused. “If Aunt Augusta was alive, she’d be standing right where I am now, trying to make you see sense.”
Pete glared at her for a long moment before turning away from the door. From her position Karen could see him rummaging through a chest in the corner of the room. He withdrew a paper sack and brought it back with him.
“Give ‘em their darned nails,” he said tightly, transferring possession to her, “and tell ’em I hope every single one of ’em bends or breaks!”
The sack, with other smaller sacks inside, was heavier than Karen expected. She had to make a second effort at supporting it. “I’ll tell them,” she said. Then added with regret, “Try to understand, Pete. Try hard.”
“I don’t hafta understand nothin’, ’cause I’m gettin’ outta here. I don’t wanna be around when the crazies take over.”
She looked at him in alarm. “But you are coming back, aren’t you? You wouldn’t—”
“Maybe...maybe not.” He shrugged. “I haven’t decided.”
“Pete—”
“Get on with ya. I’ve said all I’m gonna say.”
And with that he closed the door, blocking her out of his life.
Karen looked around helplessly. Had she handled it anywhere near properly? Had she said everything she possibly could?
She started to move away, and once again the dog barked.
It gave him something to do.
BY LATE AFTERNOON Lee and Manny had settled on several locations for the practice run-throughs of the interviews they would start taping tomorrow. Lee had already arranged times with the chosen subjects—the idea being to use the most effusive and loquacious among the citizenry, so that those harboring misgivings could see how easy it was. Manny, as always, would film everything as a keeper, just in case they ran into a natural who might not be as natural in their “real” interview. It happened that way sometimes. People who were great during the run-through were as frightened as rabbits later on.
They were just about to take the rest of the afternoon off when the clamor of industrious hammering drew them to the hotel. Within minutes they were caught up, helping. Work had broadened from reclaiming the lobby to include refurbishment of the kitchen and the dining room. One or two of the men were in each area, doing what needed to be done. A ruined kitchen drainboard was being ripped apart and dilapidated cabinets were being taken down. The dining room was in the same state as the lobby yesterday, while in the gutted lobby, replacement trims were being put in place.
Manny gravitated to the demolition in the kitchen, while Lee took up a hammer and nails in the lobby.
“You can thank Karen for those,” John said as he jockeyed a length of door trim into proper position.
Lee looked at the thin finishing nail. “For this?” he asked.
“She got ‘em all back from Pete. He’d...uh... relieved us of our burden, so to speak. Almost had a riot. I wasn’t gonna say nothin’ but figured you’d have to be unconscious not to hear about it. We’re all gettin‘ together after work today, havin’ a little shindig to celebrate. You and your people are invited, too, of course.”
“Is Karen coming?” Lee asked.
“You bet! Even if we have to drag her. She’s the one we want to thank most for keepin’ the lid on things. Pete’s also taken himself off into the desert, so that means we can actually get some work done.”
As he made his way toward the front door, Hank Douglas spotted Lee. “Pepper’s gonna be up all night tryin’ to decide what outfit to wear tomorrow. She’s got two special ones and can’t make up her mind.”
“Tell her to relax,” Lee called after him. “The camera will love her whatever she’s wearing.”
“Joe says Rhonda’s havin’ the same problem,” John murmured. “She’s drivin’ him nuts, too.”
Mary O’Conner also was included in the first round of interviews and had asked if Benny could sit in with her. Lee looked around for Benny and found him in the street in front of the hotel, steadying a two-by-four across a set of sawhorses for Hank to cut. Benny looked up and smiled, and smiling back, Lee couldn’t help but think how Mary’s love and devotion to her son was going to shine through.
“Western Rambles” was popular because it commemorated the positive facets of the human spirit—honesty, integrity, generosity, selflessness, cooperation—instead of the baser motives.
Lee had left network television to go off on his own because so much of what was done in the name of news was abhorrent to him. Putting a microphone into the face of a vulnerable person to demand an accounting or to question their up-to-that-second feelings—he’d done it, he’d hated it and he’d sworn never to do it again. “Western Rambles” had been his dream. It had taken years of slogging through one production job after another, but finally, it had happened.
“You off dreamin’ somewheres?” John teased, breaking into Lee’s thoughts.
Lee shook his head, trying to bring his mind back to the present. “I was just...thinking about Benny,” he said.
John paused. “Yeah, it’s a sad story. Mary’s a handful, but maybe she’s had to be, not to let anybody take advantage of that boy of hers. Not even his own dad. Did she tell ya? He left ‘em shortly after Benny’s accident, then showed up a few years later, thinkin’ there might be an insurance settlement. Mary says she told him to get lost, but I’m bettin’ there was a little more to it than that. I’ve seen her operate. And I sure don’t want to be on her wrong side!”
Lee smiled. Mary and Mae would probably get along great.
AFTER HER TALK WITH PETE, Karen tried again to concentrate on sorting her aunt’s collection. Numerous reference boo
ks lay open on the dining room table, the contents of a second box were scattered about on the floor, more pages in her notebook were filled with her neat handwriting. But a niggling recollection continued to vex her: what Lee had said about Alex having another girlfriend.
Because of the upset with Pete, her thoughts had been diverted. But it was something she couldn’t forget. Lee had said he’d just got through pulling him out of a mess with one girl, when he told me he was engaged to you. By that, he’d intimated a short time frame between events. But she and Alex had dated each other exclusively for a whole year before they’d become engaged. And their engagement had lasted a further six months. It had taken that long to plan the wedding. If Lee was to be believed, it meant Alex had cheated on her up to and possibly even during their engagement.
Karen bit her lip. She didn’t want to believe it, but it had the ring of truth. Then another thought struck her: had Alex abandoned her at their wedding to return to the other girl?
Not that it mattered all that much...
She stopped herself. Shouldn’t it matter?
What was wrong with her that she felt only a mild displeasure with Alex? She should be directing as much intense anger toward him as she had with Lee. Even more. She should be throwing things! Breaking things! Why, for all these years, had her deepest resentments centered on Lee, and to a lesser degree on Mae?
Her mind skittered away from any uncomfortable answers and instead clung to the theory she’d maintained for seven years. The Parkers—the family—were to blame for everything. That was all there was to it.
A short time later someone knocked on the door, and she was surprised to find John, Bette, Carmelite and Joe clustered on the landing.
“Bette and I want you to come with us,” John announced, grinning. “And just in case you turn stubborn, we’ve brought reinforcements.”
“You want me to what?” Karen asked, confused.
“Come to the party we’re havin’ at the Lady Slipper,” John explained. “You might say it’s a Gettin’-Pete-Outta-Our-Hair party! We want to relax, have a little fun. Things have been kinda tense for a while. Now they’re not.”
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