by Tina Leonard
Her visitor nodded. “Seems you have quite a fan.”
Rattled, Chelsea said, “Would you like to come in?”
“I would. Thanks. My flight was a long one. Delayed all over the place. And the security lines. You just can’t believe how slow they can be.”
Chelsea could believe that security lines and everything else moved with a turtle’s pace when Tempest was around. People had to gawk at the beautiful woman. “Please sit down. Let me grab us some tea. Or water? Lemonade?”
Tempest smiled. “Water, please.”
“I can’t believe you’re here, in my living room.”
“I can’t believe it, either.” She laughed. “I couldn’t turn Cat down. She’s irresistible. And determined.”
Chelsea poured water over ice in two glasses, grabbed some cookies and hurried back out to the front room. “Tell me exactly what happened. Please.”
“Apparently, she’s been reading your work,” Tempest said, amused.
“I know.” Chelsea offered her guest the cookies and a small plate to put them on. Tempest chose two and leaned back. “We talked about boundaries, but I don’t know if Cat’s had those before.”
“She likes what you write.” Tempest smiled. “As do a lot of other readers.”
“Thanks. I always hope so. But go on, please.” Tempest was drawing the story out as if she was in a Broadway play, and Chelsea’s curiosity was killing her.
“Cat said you wanted to meet me. And that she thought I might help your story along. She told me you were having a little—”
“Argh,” Chelsea said. “Everyone’s a creativity muse.”
Tempest laughed. “She loves you a lot. That was clear in her emails.”
“Her emails.” Chelsea shook her head, astonished. “She used my laptop to email you?”
“I think she used her father’s.” Tempest moved a languid hand through her long blond hair. “She said she wanted to help you because if your story went well, and if you finished your book, maybe you would have more time to spend with her dad. She said she didn’t like you in the beginning, but now that she sees how happy you make him, she’s hoping the three of you might one day become a family.”
“Oh, no,” Chelsea said. “That’s not exactly the way it works. I’m so sorry you had to come all this way to…help me. Us.”
Tempest shrugged. “I didn’t come to help. I came back because it was time. Haven’t been home in years. Cat merely provided the excuse. She reminds me a lot of myself.” The statuesque blonde stood, putting a hand out for Chelsea to shake. “Thanks for seeing me. I called yesterday before I caught my flight, but there was no answer. So I took a chance that you’d be in.”
“Where are you staying?” Chelsea asked, thinking about the broken-down Cupertino family home.
Shadows darkened her eyes for a split second. “I’m staying in Blanche and Shinny’s bed-and-breakfast.”
“Blanche and Shinny Tuck who run the ice cream shop?”
Tempest nodded, walking to the door. “I’ve known them since I was small. Shinny used to give me free ice cream, and Blanche was like a second mother to me.”
“I know,” Chelsea said. “Your portraits are on the walls of Cactus Max’s.”
Tempest walked onto the porch. “It’s good to be back. I’ve forgotten how much I love being home.”
Chelsea blinked. “You do?”
“Sure. Doesn’t everyone?”
She wasn’t sure. She didn’t want to go back to Dublin, even thought she might have to soon. Gage hadn’t wanted to go back to Hell’s Colony—yet once he was there, he’d seemed to change into a man she didn’t recognize.
“Home might not be so bad,” Chelsea murmured.
“It’s just hard to make yourself go back,” Tempest said. “Goodbye, Chelsea. I hope your story goes well. Don’t tell me what happens, but I have to admit, I’m hoping Bronwyn figures out how Detective Stone feels about her one day.” She smiled. “Tell Cat I’m sorry I missed her. She sounds like a wonderful young lady. Very caring.”
Chelsea nodded. “She is. Cat is the best.”
Tempest walked out to her rental car, a Range Rover like Kendall had been driving.
“Thanks for taking the time to come by, Tempest,” Chelsea called.
She smiled. “Call me Zola. Please. I’m Zola to my friends.”
“Goodbye, Zola.” Chelsea watched her drive away, completely stunned by the unexpected visit. It had been like a dream, a crazy, unimaginable dream come to life.
“Cat,” Chelsea murmured. “You are amazing.”
It had been sweet of Gage’s daughter to try to make her happy. She sighed, locking the door behind her, then went up the stairs.
It was true what Tempest said. Going home was hard only if you kept putting it off.
* * *
THE DOORBELL RANG AGAIN a few hours later, and Chelsea put down a pencil with which she’d been writing notes on Bronwyn’s inner thoughts, and went down the stairs. “Jonas,” she said when she opened the door. “Why are you in Tempest?”
He followed her inside, and when she went into the kitchen, propped himself against the counter. “Your mother sent me to check on you.”
She shook her head. “No, she didn’t. Mum knows I retreat into a cave when I’m writing.” Except when Cat and Gage had been with her, and then she’d written like mad.
It should have been just the opposite, if everything in her world was lining in the expected way, the normal way—before she’d let herself fall for a certain Texas cowboy.
Cowboy millionaire.
“Yeah, well, your mom did want me to check on you. Actually, she wants me to bring you back to Rancho Diablo with me.”
“Why?”
“She misses you.” Jonas shrugged. “As your one-time fiancé, I think you coming back with me is a good idea.”
She looked at him, knowing him too well to fall for his line. Jonas and she were friends, nothing more—but she could tell he was still trying to look out for her. “I’m supposed to be watching this house.”
“Yes, but you can have a day off.”
Chelsea sighed. “So what’s the deal?”
“I don’t know. Your mom’s feeding the lovebirds until Cat gets back, and she said Cat was like a granddaughter to her, and she was worried you were going to have to go back to Ireland soon, and I said I was—”
“Jonas. What do you really want?” Chelsea demanded.
He looked undecided, then gave in. “Since your mail comes to Rancho Diablo, your mom said you probably needed to see this.”
He handed her a stack of mail, on top of which was an envelope from Immigration. “My papers!”
“Yeah. Congratulations. Moira said she wanted me to bring you back so she could see your face when you got them. But you’re never that easy to surprise.”
“I’m surprised now.” She hugged the envelope to her chest.
Jonas grinned. “Feel better?”
“You have no idea.” She reached up and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Then she grinned. “I owe this all to you.”
“Nah. But if you’re feeling grateful…” Jonas said.
She looked at him. “What?”
“Our favorite peacock dealer called. She says she might be willing to part with a pair of her prized babies.”
Chelsea laid the envelope on the counter, feeling so happy she almost didn’t care that Jonas was trying to dump another errand on her. “Did you tell her you’d be there pronto?”
He cleared his throat. “Actually, she asked if you could come get them.”
“Me? Why me?”
He shrugged. “She says she feels more comfortable with a woman handling her treasured birds. It’s a female thing, she says.” He smiled, laughing a bit at the vagaries of womankind. “I told her I’d offer you the chance to visit Colorado. And now that you’re perfectly legal, it’s more like a celebration vacation than an errand, right?”
Chelsea gave him a why-am-I-not-su
rprised stare. “I’ll go.”
He glanced around. “I guess by yourself?”
“I can handle it, Jonas. Maybe Mum will want to ride with me.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. “I’m sure.”
“Long drive.”
Chelsea gave him a light tap with her envelope. “You can always take Sabrina, and I’ll babysit the kids. Or you can wait until next year when you’re free of lawsuits and can go get your peacocks yourself.”
“I thought about it. But I’m afraid she’ll get cold feet. I think the only reason Ms. Smithers changed her mind is because she felt like she could trust you.”
“That’s because I’m a nice girl.”
“I know.” Jonas shrugged and walked to the front door. “You’re doing a great job keeping this place up. I appreciate it.”
“Yeah. You better. You’re about to get a bill for wooden blinds throughout the house.” She gave him an impish smile. “Plantation-style. Expensive.”
His mouth quirked. “Good to know. So, when do you expect Gage back?”
She blinked. “Why would I know? He’s your employee.”
“A little birdie told me he might be your fiancé.” Jonas seemed happy about that, subtly trying to nose around for information without being overt.
It wasn’t working.
“Jonas, I’m not engaged.”
He nodded. “I guess now that you have your new status, marriage won’t be on your mind anymore.”
“It wasn’t about my status, Jonas.”
“Come on,” he said, “you can tell ol’ Jonas your love troubles.”
She shook her head. “Nice try. But I don’t have any love troubles.”
“Okay. I’m always available to listen.”
“I know. Thanks.” She walked him to the door. “So when am I supposed to leave to see Ms. Smithers?”
“Oh,” Jonas said. “Tomorrow would be good. How’s your deadline coming?”
“It’s actually a good time for a trip,” Chelsea admitted, not happily. “Jonas, just one thing.”
“Anything, Irish, you know that.”
She nodded. “No coincidental sending of a certain cowboy on this trip with me.”
“Ow,” Jonas said. “Would I do that?”
“I won’t dignify that with a response.”
He laughed. “All right. It’ll just be you and Ms. Smithers. Get me a pretty pair of birds, all right? I leave it in your capable hands. Take the ranch truck. You’ll need it for the cages.”
“That’s great,” Chelsea said, “but you’d better figure out who’s going to build pens for those precious birds now that you have no skilled builder to do it. Ms. Smithers is very particular about knowing that proper protection is available for her babies. And I won’t fib to her about it, so I suggest you get the specs from Gage, and then start Callahans hammering.”
Jonas nodded. “You have a point.”
She closed the door and went to pack. It was going to be a short night if she had to leave in the morning.
A long couple days on the road should jog my creativity. Peace, quiet…silence.
There was no time to celebrate her new immigration status. She had to meet her deadline—and Bronwyn wasn’t exactly cooperating.
Silence would help.
* * *
IF SILENCE WAS GOLDEN, it wasn’t really helping at the moment. Chelsea crossed the state line into Colorado the next morning, barely listening to any tunes on the radio. She was deep in thought about Gage and her feelings for him, and how long it took to get over a broken heart, when something moved in the backseat of the van.
“Where are we?” a voice asked, with a sleepy yawn.
Chapter Sixteen
Chelsea shrieked. Startled by her scream, Cat let out a yelp. “Why are you screaming?” she asked. “You scared me!”
“Why are you here?” Chelsea demanded. “Oh, my God, I can’t believe you stowed away in my truck. And I’ve taken you over the state line. Oh, this is not good.” She pulled off the highway, her pulse racing. “Honey, what were you thinking?”
“It’s a long story,” Cat said.
“Lovely.” Chelsea drove up to a roadside café so they could talk. Maybe she could put in a surreptitious call to Gage, alert him that Cat was safe and sound. “When did you sneak into the van?”
“Last night.”
Cat yawned again, seemingly unconcerned. Chelsea briefly considered wringing her neck, then told herself to stay calm. “You slept in here?”
“Yes. It’s comfy.”
Chelsea parked the truck and got out. Cat exited as well, staring up at her with huge eyes. “You’re not going to yell at me, are you?”
“Maybe. A little. No.” Chelsea sighed. “Let’s go inside, order something to eat and think about what we’re going to do.”
They went in, seating themselves in a powder-blue vinyl booth. A waitress with two long black braids came over to take their order.
“Coffee,” Chelsea said, “and a grilled cheese sandwich, please.”
“Yum,” Cat said. “I’ll have the same.”
Chelsea looked at her. “Do you drink coffee?”
“Never have before. But if you do, I will, too.”
Chelsea looked at the waitress. “Maybe an iced tea for her, please.”
The waitress went off, and Chelsea fixed her gaze on Cat. “I’m surprised your father doesn’t have this place surrounded by the Army, Navy and Marines. Does he have any idea where you are?”
“No.” Cat shook her head. “Though I did tell Aunt Kendall I was going to find you. She drove me to the bus station and gave me money to get to Dark Diablo.”
The waitress delivered their drinks, and Chelsea sipped her coffee thoughtfully. Something wasn’t adding up. Kendall had tried every way she knew how to talk her into taking one of the Phillipses’ limos, or even the helicopter, back to Tempest. There was no way Gage’s sister would have put Cat on a bus and said good luck to her niece. Chelsea pursed her lips. “So why did you leave?”
Cat took a sip of Chelsea’s coffee, made a face and turned to her tea. She poured what seemed to be half a cup of sugar into it, nodding when she finally got it to her liking. “I’m not going back to Laredo.”
“No one says you have to, do they?” Last she’d known, Gage was determined to keep his daughter with him.
“Mom says I have to go home. I’m not going to. I love Mom. She’s my mother, you know? But I don’t love Larry. I don’t like Larry. And I want to be with Dad. If Dad can’t make Mom let me stay with him, then I’d rather live somewhere else.”
“Well, you can’t live in the truck,” Chelsea said.
“Yeah, well. I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about me.” Cat shrugged.
Chelsea felt so sorry for the teen. She had not had it easy. “Honey, your father has to be worried sick. Don’t you want to use my cell phone to at least let him know you’re safe?”
“I will in a minute. Right now, I want to eat this grilled cheese sandwich. I have to have a full stomach when Dad yells at me, and he is going to yell.”
Chelsea thought that was a strong possibility.
“I just want to be like Tempest,” Cat said around a mouthful of grilled cheese.
“You’re thirteen,” Chelsea gently pointed out. “A bit too young to transform yourself. And speaking of Tempest, I have a complaint to lodge with you about that.”
Cat’s eyes slanted toward her as she polished off her sandwich. “May I have another one of these, please, before you lodge your complaint?”
“When’s the last time you ate?”
“Before Aunt Kendall took me to the bus station.”
Chelsea shook her head. “You may order whatever you wish, but you must call your father. Please. I know that, somewhere, your poor dad is having heart failure, Cat, wondering where you are.”
“All right. Can I have another sandwich, some tomato soup and a piece of chocolate cake?” she asked hopef
ully.
“Sure,” Chelsea said, handing over her cell phone.
Chelsea placed the order while Cat called her father. “I’m okay, Dad. I’m sorry I left, but I don’t want to go live with Larry and Mom. I just don’t want to. And if you’re too busy, and Mom doesn’t want you to have me, then I’m going to…live with Chelsea,” Cat said, making Chelsea jump.
“Don’t get your father mad at me,” she said. “I don’t want him to think I had anything to do with your leaving!”
The last thing she expected was to see Gage walking into the café—and yet, knowing how he loved his daughter, she wasn’t surprised at all. Cat was still on the phone, talking away, as Chelsea watched Gage walk toward the powder-blue booth. He looked hot and sexy in his dark aviator sunglasses, cowboy hat, black T-shirt and exactly-right worn jeans, and she felt her heart flip over.
He slid into the booth next to his daughter, giving Chelsea a wink that melted her. “Hey,” he said, taking the phone and handing it back to Chelsea.
“Dad!” Cat threw her arms around his neck. “How did you know where I was?”
“Because,” Gage said, “I followed the bus, I followed you to Dark Diablo, I watched you when you sneaked into the truck, and kept an eye on you while you slept.” Gage ruffled her hair. “Not to tattle on Aunt Kendall, but she was willing to let you be a runaway only to a certain extent.”
Cat hugged him again, and Chelsea breathed a sigh of relief. She should have known that the girl had never been out from under her father’s watchful gaze. “Were you going to follow us all the way to Colorado?”
“Sure.” Gage shrugged, shoving his phone into his jeans. “Couldn’t let my two favorite girls go off on an adventure without me.”
“I’m sorry, Dad.” Cat looked at him with big eyes. “You just don’t understand that I don’t want to go home to Mom.”
“It’s all right.” He kissed his daughter on the head. “Care to split that grilled cheese with your old dad?”
“Sure.” Beaming, Cat handed her father half her sandwich.
Chelsea realized that if Cat hadn’t eaten, Gage must not have, either. When the waitress came over, she ordered coffee for him and tomato soup for all of them. “And another slice of chocolate cake, please,” she said, watching Gage look at his daughter. He pushed her hair, the strands on the long side, behind her ear tenderly, and Chelsea thought she’d never seen anything so sweet in her life.
