Joe, too, was grinning hugely. So were Bette and Carmelita.
“Come on,” Bette urged. “It’ll do you good. You need to get away from all these old things for a while and have a good time.”
“I like these old things,” Karen said.
“You’re the guest of honor,” John explained, stepping around her to propel her toward the door. “You have to be there.”
Karen frowned. “Me? How? Why?”
“You got Pete to cooperate,” Joe chimed in.
“I made him leave town! I’m not proud of that.”
They spirited her down the stairs and across the mercantile’s backyard to the saloon.
“Who cares?” Joe said, his hand on her back, impelling her onward.
“I care!” Karen protested, but her reply was lost in the cheerful noises spilling outside.
Again the room was filled with music, the player piano going full tilt, Benny joyfully pumping it.
A cheer went up as Karen entered, and John quickly stationed himself behind the bar, where he could pull beer and hand out soft drinks. Another cheer was given.
“To Karen!” someone called.
“To Twilight!” someone else added.
“To all the tourists who’ll soon be comin’!” toasted yet another.
Karen’s mood lightened in spite of herself. Everyone was so happy. So hopeful. It was hard not to be swept along. To share in their enthusiasm.
She found herself at one end of the bar, a soft drink in one hand, a noisemaker in the other. “Left over from last New Year’s Eve!” John had explained as he’d tossed them around. The noise level had risen even higher.
“Would it be safe to offer my congratulations?” a familiar voice asked shortly after she felt someone slip onto the bar stool next to her.
Karen wanted to pretend that she hadn’t heard him but knew it wouldn’t work.
With her gaze anchored exactly where it had been, on Benny, she challenged, “Since when have you been worried about safety?”
He chuckled. “Not now, that’s for sure. Maybe I should be wearing my flak jacket.”
“When I’m not holding anything more dangerous than an eight-month-old noisemaker?”
“That might be all you think you’re holding.”
Her gaze switched suddenly to his. “Did Alex go back to that other girl? Is that why he left me in church?”
She hadn’t meant to ask that. Not here, not now! Yet she somehow managed to hold eye contact, trying not to be aware of his magnetism, of his good looks...of her newfound awareness of him as a man. He did remind her of Alex. The same Parker looks, with an equal, if not more potent, measure of Parker charm. What was it his assistant had said about him? Lee could charm the birds from the trees if he wanted? He’d gotten around Bette’s resistance. Was hers so easy to get around, too? She banned herself from making further comparisons. It was imperative that she remain cool, detached.
The smoldering smile left his eyes. He didn’t like to be reminded about what Alex had done to her. His reply was simple. “No.”
“Could you expand on that?”
“No,” he said, “he didn’t go back to the other girl. That’s not why he left you at the altar.”
She took a breath. “More, please?”
“Are you a glutton for punishment, like your mother thinks?” When she didn’t answer, he said flatly, “Alex left because the idea of marriage frightened him out of his mind. And that’s quite a joke now, considering he’s on his fourth marriage.”
“His fourth?” she repeated, shocked.
“He takes a new set of vows every year or two. If he keeps to schedule, number four should be getting nervous.”
“But he’s only a year older than—”
“You are. I know.”
“What’s wrong with him? What’s happened? That’s not the way—the Alex I knew wouldn’t—”
“The Alex you knew didn’t bother to tell you to cancel the wedding. He canceled it himself, like a coward.”
“If I don’t hate him, why should you?”
“I don’t hate him. I just know him for what he is.”
“Because he shamed the Parker name.”
He reacted to her disdain by frowning. “The Parker name stands for something, Karen. Something you never had an opportunity to see. All you got was the rough edge.”
“As if you care!” she shot back. She felt herself tightening up, felt her detachment faltering.
“I care more than you might think.”
She couldn’t stand it any longer. She had to get out of there. Without a word she hopped off the stool and headed for the front door. She heard Lee call after her. Heard other people call her name, as well, but she didn’t look back.
She knew she was calling attention to the two of them by her action. But if Pete had learned their story, so had everyone else. A secret was impossible to keep in a town this small. She was surprised the others hadn’t already begun to question her about it.
Her sandals scuffed lightly on the plank sidewalk, then padded soundlessly across the hard-packed street to the well. As a child she’d played near it for hours. She’d had strict instructions never to touch the wooden covers and she hadn’t. One look down into the seemingly bottomless pit had satisfied her curiosity and convinced her she didn’t want to repeat the mistake of the unfortunate child who’d needed to be rescued.
The tree directly behind the well was even more gnarled than Karen remembered it, some of its branches now lifeless. But it still bore the initials she’d carved in its trunk near the lowest fork—a very small KL
She ran her fingers over her childish effort and wondered at the others scattered around it. Who were these people who’d also left their marks for posterity? Stagecoach riders? Settlers heading west? The child who had fallen into the well?
“Karen?” A woman’s soft voice called for her attention. “Is it all right if we talk?”
Karen looked up to see Lee’s assistant She tried but failed to remember her name.
“Diane,” the newcomer supplied, almost as if she’d read her mind. “Diane Cruz. I don’t blame you for not remembering, considering everything that happened .”
“Yes,” Karen agreed tightly. “I did make a rather dramatic exit.”
Diane tossed her short blond hair and laughed. “I’ll say! It took us all a full minute to speak. We were so surprised. We didn’t know. Lee hadn’t told us.”
Karen pushed some stray strands of hair away from her face. She didn’t want to talk about Lee, or Alex, or her involvement with either of them.
“Is it naturally curly?” Diane asked, motioning to her hair.
Karen nodded.
“I’ve always wanted curly hair. I tried a permanent once, but it frizzed so badly I looked like a monster from a B horror movie. Frizz Girl from the Black Lagoon!” She giggled.
Karen smiled. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”
“Oh, it was. Ask Manny.”
Diane went to stand by the well, and after a moment Karen joined her. She missed having Rachel to talk to.
Diane mused, “I wonder what it was like when Nate Barlow jumped off his horse to get a drink and heard the child’s cry for help? How it felt to have to make that kind of decision. Your life or the child’s? If he’d ridden on, the child would more than likely have died. No one would have heard him.”
“I’ve never really thought about it,” Karen said, shrugging.
“It’s just a story you’ve heard since you first came to Twilight.”
“Yes.”
“What about your aunt? Did she ever say anything about it?”
“Not really.”
Diane worked a pebble through a small crack in the wooden covers. Moments later they heard a hollow-sounding splash.
“It’s funny how things work out, isn’t it?” Diane mused again, turning to look at her. “The town going downhill because the well fails them, the outlaw, the posse, the child, the 1939 movie, t
he current remake, the town possibly starting to prosper again—all because of what happened at the well. It’s almost as if there’s a plan. Do you believe in fate?”
Karen wondered what the woman was getting at. Diane seemed sweet, but she was also smart. And she’d had a reason for following her. Karen murmured, “As you say, when you look back, things often seem to have a purpose.”
“May I ask you something personal?” Diane asked.
Karen nodded, tensing imperceptibly. Dusk was heavier, but her action was still visible.
“What do you have against Lee? I mean, other than being Alex’s older brother. And other than being a Parker—neither of which he can help.”
“Did he send you after me?” Karen demanded.
Diane smiled wryly. “Lee doesn’t send anyone to plead his cause. He either pleads it himself or says to hell with it. I was just wondering, because you’re the first person I’ve ever met who’s reacted negatively to him. Most people take to him right away. It’s a gift. Manny has it, too, but not as much as Lee. Do you know, Lee still gets calls from people we worked with the first season of ‘Western Rambles’? They want to tell him what’s going on in their lives. Not for the show, but because they continue to see him as a friend.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Karen asked tightly.
Diane shrugged. “He’s my friend, too. I don’t like to see him treated unfairly.”
“He’s a Parker!” Karen scoffed. “I doubt he’ll suffer.”
“I’ve met the Parker family. The ones who live on the ranch—Mae, Rafe and Shannon. Gib, Harriet and LeRoy, Christine and Morgan. Taken all together in one place, they’re a bit—” she smiled “—over-whelming. But I like them. They’re good people.”
“You’ve obviously never been on their wrong side.”
“And you were,” Diane said.
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
Diane’s blue eyes filled with sincerity. “Manny and I have never met Alex, but I know brothers can be as different as night and day. Lee’s a good man. A great boss. The best thing Manny and I both ever did was agree to work with him. He’s always treated us fairly, with friendship, with respect... and not many bosses would do what he has—made his crew partners in the business. He has control, but we have a say. And we get a share of the profits. We’re a real team.”
“Which underscores my skepticism.”
“I’m not saying this because Lee asked me to,” Diane denied again.
“But you know which side your bread is buttered on, don’t you? Can’t you conceive he might not be as wonderful as you think? That none of the Parkers are?”
Diane shot back, “And can’t you conceive that he is?”
Karen turned to walk away. This day had been interminably long, with too much emotion swinging back and forth. She barely knew what she was saying anymore, what she was thinking. All she wanted was to go somewhere quiet.
Diane jogged a few steps to catch up with her. “Karen, look,” she said, falling into place at her side, “I didn’t mean for us to argue. Maybe we’re both just a little prejudiced in our views. You’ve had one experience with the Parkers, I’ve had another. All I was trying to do was get you to give Lee a chance.”
A chance to do what? Karen wanted to counter. She was as close to tears now as she’d been after she and Lee—She thought again of her strong reaction to his kiss. Of the way she’d felt upon seeing him in the yard, of talking to him just now at the bar....
All right! Yes! She admitted to herself. There was some kind of attraction flaring between them that had nothing to do with her prior relationship with Alex. But that didn’t mean she had to give in to it! She’d be crazy to give in to it!
She didn’t notice when Diane broke away and returned to the saloon.
CHAPTER NINE
LEE SAT AT THE BAR, nursing a beer, when what he wanted more than anything was to commit a little mayhem on his baby brother. Like Mae said, their mother had spoiled him. It didn’t seem to matter to Alex whom he alienated, whom he hurt...just so long as he could skate out of it, worry-free. He’d been like that as a boy and it had only gotten worse as he’d grown older. Their mother had always made excuses for him, taken his side. Maybe if once or twice he’d been made to face up to what he’d done... Alex made friends easily, particularly with women. They liked the little-boy quality about him—until they had cause to need more.
“Hey, man,” Manny said, sliding onto the stool Karen had abandoned moments before.
“Hey,” Lee responded dispiritedly.
“Nice party.”
“Yep.”
Manny took a sip of his own brew, nodded in beat to the old saloon song jangling from the piano, then said, “She, uh, didn’t look very pleased when she left just now. Maybe what you should do is get her some flowers.”
“Some flowers,” Lee repeated.
“Yeah, you know...women like flowers.”
Lee broke into a slow smile. He always marveled at the workings of Manny’s mind. “And this is something you’ve gathered from your vast experience?”
“Well, sure.”
“Tell me something,” Lee said, shifting so he could see him better. “When Diane’s mad at you—really mad—do flowers make her listen?”
“She’s never been that mad at me before.”
“Aw, come on!”
Manny shook his head. “Nope, she hasn’t. I’d remember.”
Since Lee had witnessed more than a few occasions when that just wasn’t the case, he was set to argue. But noticing Manny’s sideways glance and the slow grin that followed, he understood that his friend was merely trying to lift his mood.
Grinning, too, Lee drew back to deliver a feigned punch, just as John showed up to offer them another beer.
At their refusal John said, “Gotta keep a clear head for tomorrow, huh?”
“Yeah,” Manny agreed. “We don’t want to find out later that our shots are out of focus.”
“Or the sound’s missing.” Lee laughed. “We did that once, remember? In Missoula, Montana. Right before you and Diane got married. You were in such a state you forgot to flip the right switch and we lost half a day’s work!”
“Yeah, I remember.” Manny smiled.
“How long have you two been married?” John asked.
“Four years,” Manny replied.
“It’s been twenty-eight for Bette and me.”
“Whoa!” Manny fell back on his favorite expression.
Diane, unnoticed, had come up behind them. She slipped her arms around her husband’s neck and teased, “I didn’t know you and Lee had been married for four years!”
Manny howled, Lee chuckled and John went away laughing.
Diane enjoyed the moment, then, turning to Lee, said seriously, “There’s something we need to talk about.”
“Karen?” Lee guessed. He’d known Diane had followed her outside.
“No.”
“What, then?”
“I’d rather not say...here. Just—later, okay?”
At that moment Rhonda and Pepper hurried over, wanting to consult about their interviews. “My outfit’s mostly white and I’m startin’ to wonder if I’ve made the right choice,” Pepper said. “I do have a perfectly good blue one. What do you think? Y’all are the professionals.”
“I told her the blue one,” Rhonda said. “She’ll fade away to nothing in white. Mine’s mauve, more on the purple side? I thought it would go good with my eyes.”
Diane drew the women away to advise them about their clothes and makeup, which was another part of her job. They wanted their interviewees to look natural, not fake. And too many people had the idea that more was better, in every way.
It was another hour before the party broke up and the crew could meet privately upstairs.
“What’s up?” Lee asked as he took the chair opposite the Cruzes, who both sat on the foot of their bed.
“There’s something funny about Nate Barlow,” Dian
e said. “I’ve looked everywhere and I can’t find a thing that definitely links him to Twilight. No newspaper articles about the rescue, nothing about him being hanged here.”
Both Lee and Manny grew still.
“You’re referring to contemporary records... records of the time,” Lee said.
Diane nodded. “There’s nothing. Some years later I found a reference to an account by a French journalist on a grand tour of the West, and in it he claims the story as real.”
“What about documentation—death records, judicial records?”
“Record keeping was pretty spotty out here at the time. And then there was the usual courthouse fire. Honestly, it’s hard to believe how many courthouses caught fire in the early days. Must have been all those papers in one place. But every time you really want something—”
Lee cut off her rant “What did the French journalist have to say?”
“Pretty much the same story we hear today. How Nate Barlow was trying to outrun a posse, how he came upon the child in the well, how he got the kid out and the posse caught up with him and hung him on the spot.” She paused. “Tonight, I was out by the well. There’s a tree, but the limbs don’t look strong enough to have been used to hang someone.”
“Probably not the same tree,” Manny murmured.
“Anything else?” Lee asked.
She took a deep breath. “The Frenchman mentioned another name.”
“What name?” Lee pressed.
Diane paused. “He wrote about a Parker being in Twilight, too. The translation got a little funky at that point, as if parts of the writing in the original text were splotched or missing. There were blank spaces and numerous question marks to indicate confusion. But it definitely had a Parker, a Twilight and a posse, all mentioned right after the account of the hanging.”
Lee drummed his fingers on the chair arm. “So what the hell does that mean?”
“I was hoping you’d know,” Diane said.
“How would I know?”
“You’re a Parker...and this wouldn’t be the first thing you’ve held back from us on this shoot.”
“I don’t have the slightest idea,” Lee replied. He was quiet a moment, then said, “Go back to the first part. Are you telling us you aren’t sure if it even happened? If there really was a Nate Barlow? We saw his headstone in the cemetery, remember?”
Twilight, Texas Page 12
