Goodnight Kisses

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Goodnight Kisses Page 3

by Wilhelmina Stolen


  Wade sat down in the chair behind his desk, and his laugh lines deepened as a weary smile drew his lips upward. “That I could use a shot of youth.”

  “Couldn’t we all,” Hardin laughed. It was his dad’s way of keeping face, but McCrea could see the fear behind the smile. He, too, was afraid of losing Wade. They all were.

  The old man let out a weighted sigh. “I don’t fear dying. Death is as inevitable as the sunrise. It comes to us all. I made my peace a long time ago, but handing over a part of the family land to someone as reckless as you scares the hell out of me.”

  “Reckless?” he questioned.

  Wade leaded forward in a commanding manner only he could accomplish to rest his arms on the desk. “Tell me again why do you want the land?”

  “We’ve talked about this. It’s the perfect spot─”

  “For that damn game ranch,” Wade finished.

  His granddad had never been sold on the idea of cultivating wildlife for hunting, but McCrea knew it could be a profitable business. “We’ve had this discussion before.”

  “There’s a nice piece of land on the north side─.”

  “No,” he was quick to disagree. “Give it to Jess or Lou or Dean. It’s twice the size, and it’s perfect for raising cattle.”

  Wade’s eyes fell to the desk. “I always thought you would be the one to take over the ranch, but,” he swiveled his chair around so he faced the window.

  “Damn it, Granddad,” McCrea choked back a groan with the slumping of Wade’s shoulders. “I have my own dreams and ranching isn’t one of them. Why can’t you accept that?”

  Wade’s return was interrupted by the familiar rattle of Rose Mackenna’s old Chevy barreling up the drive. Their neighbor from down the road.

  Hardin raised his head to watch the truck roll to a stop. “We’ve got company.”

  “It’s just Eleanor,” McCrea dismissed his sister’s friend, but couldn’t help watch the blonde’s breasts bounce from side to side as she sprinted up the sidewalk. After she disappeared up the front steps, he listened for the slamming of the front door, and the trail of boots across the tile in the foyer and up the stairs. “Jesus, what’s she doing here?”

  “I hear the taxes are due again,” Hardin said under his breath. “And we both know Rose is too proud for a handout.”

  “I’ll try to convince her to let us help,” Wade seemed a little brighter at the thought of his old friend.

  “Good luck. My guess is she’ll be selling off more livestock and letting some of the hired help go.” Hardin knew how Rose managed to get by. “Jimmy Ross told me he’s thinking about leaving. Says he can’t make it on what Rose pays him.” He pointed towards the stairs. “If he does, there’ll be more work than that girl can handle.”

  “There’s already more work than she can handle,” McCrea said, knowing when Eleanor left for college in a few days, Redemption would lose its best workhand. “Why won’t she sell?”

  “Rose will never sell,” Wade answered. “Redemption is her home. Charlie is buried there.” He pushed himself back and panned his head towards the Mackenna home. “I’ll go see Rose today. I need to hear her laughter and see her smile. She makes me feel as though I’m not alone in the world.”

  The soft pat of Eleanor’s footsteps down the stairs made McCrea grimace. “Alone? There’s never a moment’s peace in this place, especially with Lou and Eleanor always running in and out.”

  “Lighten up, son,” Hardin said. “They’re leaving for college in a few days, and this place will be as quiet as a tomb.”

  He would miss Lou, but not the noise. Jesus, if he heard one more giggle …!

  “It’s not the same,” Wade answered, his mind barely in the conversation. It was getting harder and harder to keep his granddad on target. “Rose and I go way back and have a lot in common. We’ve borne the same grief, and loved the same people. Charlie was one of my closest friends.”

  McCrea knew the friendship between the Coldiron’s and Mackenna’s went back for generations.

  “Charlie shared your dream of finding the Wayfires Gold. We spent a lot of days in the hot sun, digging through the rubble of Vera la Luz, but always came up empty-handed.” Wade let out a hearty laugh which brought a healthy glow to his face. “Mom blistered our backsides when she caught us in the old home place searching for clues. Everything was an adventure then.”

  “There’s nothing but junk up there now,” McCrea said.

  Wade made a measurement with his hands. “There was a trunk with old letters in it. As I recall, they were correspondence between your great-grandmother, Callie and her sister in Virginia.

  While McCrea pursued the mystery behind the legend, he held no dreams of gold being uncovered anytime soon. His interest was in learning the story of his ancestors and the history of Santa Camino.

  He knew the family lineage and his grandmother’s name. He also knew she came to Texas in search of his Granddad Lucas around the end of the Civil War. Some years before that, the Legend of the Wayfires Gold started. “Where are the letters now?”

  Wade’s eyes narrowed with thought. “Not sure. I haven’t seen them since.”

  “Maybe Charlie took them. They’re not in the cabin. That much I know. I’ve been through it with a fine-tooth comb.”

  “Aren’t you a little old to be chasing those legends of gold?” Hardin teased.

  “Chasing whores is more like it.” Without notice, Wade was his old self. Direct and to the point.

  “Whores?” McCrea’s eyes darted to his dad. “How did the conversation go from gold to whores?”

  Hardin raised an eyebrow. “Mildred Satterfield cornered him on the street yesterday.”

  His granddad’s gray eyes pinned him down. “She said you started a fight over some floozy.”

  Mildred Satterfield was leader of the Garden Club, the Women’s Book Club, and a board member of the town’s historical society. She was also leader of the town’s gossip committee. “Why do you listen to her? She doesn’t know her ass from a−”

  “It’s not just Mildred,” Hardin returned. “The whole town’s talking about how you beat the hell out of the Moore boy over some woman.”

  McCrea felt his temper rising. It wasn’t the first time Mildred had caused him trouble by spread rumors about him, but this time it was different. This time she had thrown Eleanor into her gossip.

  “The woman wasn’t a whore,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “So you say.”

  Wade’s reproach needled him. “Forgive me if my moral compass isn’t what you want it to be. I’m sure you two were saints at my age.”

  “The hell we were,” Hardin laughed.

  “I remember what it was like to be a young man and what I’d give to be that age again. Riding through backcountry, drinking and brawling with my buddies.” Wade threw in his memories. “It was a hell of a life.”

  McCrea had heard those stories before. “And you turned out just fine.”

  “Thanks to your grandmother, and that is my point.”

  Wade always traveled around the mountain when telling a story, but eventually he got to the point. Lately, that wasn’t the case. “I’m not following you, Granddad.”

  “Life is a never ending circle of birth and death, and in between are the memories you hold on to, the things that make it worth living.”

  McCrea stared at him with a blank expression. “I don’t understand what any of this has to do with me getting the land.”

  “Your grandmother settled me down and taught me how to love. She was my anchor. You need an anchor, McCrea.”

  He didn’t like where the conversation was going. “By anchor, you mean a woman?”

  “I mourn for your grandmother every day. The softness of her hands against my face, the gentleness in her voice as she sang our children to sleep and the way she laughed. God, I miss her laughter.” Wade paused to swallow back his loss. “The love of a good woman is priceless son, and I’d give everything I ow
n to have one more day with her.”

  Sensing his father’s grief, Hardin cut in. “The point is, we grew up, son. Took wives and started families.”

  “Oh, hell no!” McCrea argued. “That’s not going to happen anytime soon. I don’t want either.”

  “That’s what we’re afraid of,” Hardin said. “You have no direction. No drive. No plan for the future.”

  “I have a plan! Haven’t you two been listening?” Lou didn’t have a plan. She couldn’t decide on a major much less choose a career path, and Jess’ nearly cost him his life. And while Lou was too young to be showing any real interest in finding the right guy to settle down with, Jess had been a diehard connoisseur of rodeo buckle bunnies before his accident. But did they care? Hell no! He was always the one under scrutiny! “I have a plan! Haven’t you two been listening?”

  “Finding a wife should be part of your plan,” Wade informed him.

  “The hell it should,” he mumbled.

  “I thought going off to college would straighten you out. Give you time to sow your oats, but it hasn’t,” Wade explained.

  “The way I live my life shouldn’t be an issue. We made a deal. The land was mine when I finished college. I finished, and you’re trying to back out because you think I need a wife. I’m not you, Granddad. I don’t need or want a wife.”

  “That shows me how little you know about this place!” Wade shouted, unable to control his temper. “We are tied to the land. We’ve worked hard to be strong leaders and good standing members of this community!”

  “And I need a wife for that?” McCrea questioned.

  Three taps on the study door interrupted, causing heads to turn and paused the heated conversation.

  “It’s open,” Hardin answered.

  When the driver of the Chevy eased her head in, McCrea stopped her at the door. “What do you want, Eleanor?”

  The sharpness of his tone caused her to snap back. “Excuse me, grouch. I’m looking for Louisa. Have you seen her?”

  “I’m not my sister’s keeper,” he grumbled, not knowing why he was directing his anger at her. “I have no idea where Lou is.”

  “Belle took her into town,” Hardin answered with the same patient tone he used for his daughter.

  She huffed out, “Darn” before shoving her hands into her back pockets.

  “Something we can help you with?” Hardin ask, and checked his watch.

  “No, I’ll come back.”

  “Hang around. They should be back soon.”

  McCrea held the door open for her. “Could you hang around in the hall? We’re in the middle of something.” Even as he tried to usher her out of the room, he couldn’t help but notice how well her newly acquired curves filled every inch of her faded hip huggers.

  Eleanor Mackenna wasn’t strikingly beautiful. Her creamy skin wasn’t covered by layers of makeup, and her hair wasn’t curled into the latest fashion. In fact, she was pretty plain and seldom made an effort to make herself anything other than that. But damn, if it didn’t work for her.

  “Oh, sorry.” A dusting of red colored her cheeks as she backed out the door. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. Mr. C, do you care if I get something from Louisa’s room? I left one of my dresses up there, and I have a date tonight.”

  McCrea had known Eleanor most of her life, and at first, she had been the shy little neighbor who blushed when he spoke to her. But she was too energetic for shyness, and it hadn’t taken her long to become a member of his family. There wasn’t a single activity, celebration or holiday she wasn’t involved in. She was a sweet girl with a magnetic appeal which made her approachable and attractive in an indescribable way. She was kind, funny, and quirky, and McCrea felt his agitation start to soften. “Is it with the tuba player who took you to the prom?”

  The blush on her cheeks darkened. “Conner didn’t play the tuba. He played the saxophone and no. He’s not my date.” She stuck her tongue out and crossed her arms over her chest like a pouting child.

  He wasn’t a dumbass. He knew Eleanor had been hot on his heels for years, but he always ignored her, something easy to do until a few months ago. Up until then, she was just a chatty, somewhat annoying little girl with the coordination of a newborn colt and the elegance of an ostrich.

  That wasn’t the case anymore. Now she was a full-fledged, curvy, blonde who turned heads and extracted whistles and cat-calls. In the past, he had been guilty of tempting her, but now the knobby-kneed little girl he’d left in the fall was the one tempting him.

  “Get what you need,” Hardin said, ignoring their bickering.

  She began backing out of the door. “Thanks.”

  “How’s Rose doing?” Wade asked, purposefully keeping her in the room.

  Holy hell, McCrea swore silently. Would they ever get back to the land? With a heavy breath, he sat down in the chair across from the desk. His impatience earned him a searing glance from Eleanor. She was adorable when she was angry. In an angry pup kind of way.

  “A little sad I’m leaving, but other than that, she’s fine.”

  “Her sadness is understandable. You’re a real comfort to her. Lou mentioned you earned a scholarship.”

  Her head bobbed up and down. “That’s right. I worked my butt off for it.”

  “What are you studying?”

  “Business.”

  “Can’t go wrong there.”

  “Maybe you should help Lou decide on a major,” Hardin suggested.

  She lifted a shoulder. “Louisa is smart, Mr. C. She’ll figure it out.”

  “Are you coming back here after college?” Wade continued his questions.

  “Definitely.” She took a few steps forwards, allowing McCrea another lengthy glance at her backside. “I’m going to rebuild Redemption.”

  McCrea didn’t have to see her eyes to know they shone with pride. Rebuilding her granddad’s ranch was her dream. She worked tirelessly around the place, and had since she came to live with Rose years ago. When she was old enough, she got a job at Lomer’s Hardware stocking shelves after school, and Old Ed Tubs let her wait tables at his bar and clean up on weekends. The money she earned wasn’t spent on frivolous things like makeup and new clothes. Her worn, faded denims were proof of that. She had spent her last year of high school saving for a second-hand car he nicknamed Old Blue. The Toyota Corolla came with a busted radiator and over a hundred thousand miles. It stayed in the shop more than it stayed on the road and was an eyesore with a duct tape bumper and missing hubcaps.

  “I’m glad to hear that.” Wade was pleased by her plan.

  “Those are awfully big dreams for a little girl like yourself,” McCrea jeered.

  “No bigger than finding gold in the ruins of an old church or landing that twelve-point buck you’re always talking about.”

  He grinned at her comeback. “Hey, the buck is real.”

  “So are my plans for rebuilding Redemption, and I’ll start with Romeo Baby.”

  Placing all her hopes for Redemption on a horse like Romeo Baby was smart. Charging a premium price for his stud service would generate money for the breeding program she wanted to start, and building a reputable name would ensure Redemption a future. The horse was an untapped goldmine waiting for her return.

  Because he was only a couple of days old when his mother died, she bottle-fed the colt, nurtured him, babied him and loved him as though he were a child, orphaned and alone. The colt was a pitiful thing, and McCrea hadn’t given him good odds at survival much less growth. She refused to give up on him, and in her care, the horse thrived. Eleanor never gave up on the things she loved.

  Romeo Baby was one of the best cutting horses he had ever worked with. The Quarter horse had a gentle disposition and a unique aura. An intangible, low current surge of strength and fluidity which allowed for a distinctive harmony between horse and rider. But more than that, he was smart. He had a special kind of cow sense all real cutting horses have. When the reins were loosened, he could isolate a calf and pull
it from the herd like a gentle guiding mother.

  After Charlie’s death, Rose held on to his dream, but Redemption had been running in the red for years with little hope of ever making a profit. Eleanor knew that, but she, like Rose, held on to the dream. With the weight of last year’s taxes bearing down on her, she was pinching the life out of every penny she had and was working her ass off.

  “You should have named the beast Eleanor’s Baby.”

  “He’s not a beast and you’re just mad because you can’t have him.”

  “What’s going to happen to your baby when you leave?” he asked, knowing she had petitioned Jess to care for the horse. “I’ll give you a hundred dollars for him right now.” His insulting offer was for the sole sake of instigation, and she knew it. That’s what made their flirting quarrels so interesting. He teased her with a few lighthearted insults, and she retaliated with witty comebacks and pretended to be angry. It seemed to be the natural migration of their relationship since he came home from college. He didn’t have a clue as to where that migration might lead, and for the moment, he didn’t care. He was content living in whatever moment they had.

  A convincing stare of anger narrowed her eyes. “Your brother has graciously agreed to take care of him, and it will be a cold day in hell before I sell Romeo Baby to you.”

  He smiled and fought the urge to kiss her, just as he had earlier in the barnyard. “Colder weather is comin’.” He tried hard to keep his mind centered on the land, but he found himself wandering back to a conversation he had with her a couple of weeks ago.

  She was standing on the sidewalk outside of a little boutique on Main Street when he drove by. He slowed the truck, mesmerized by her simple beauty. Without knowing why, he parked and made his way over to where she stood admiring a peach dress. He looped both thumbs in the front pocket of his Wranglers as he gave the dress a keen look of interest. “Do you think they have it in a thirty-six?”

 

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