by Judy Duarte
Katrina was jealous now?
Maybe she should have worried about losing him to another woman when they’d first discussed his commitment to come to Buckshot Hills.
After leaving Katrina in the kitchen, Mike headed outside to his pickup, only to find the cab empty and Tammy gone.
His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. Where in the hell had she gone?
A slip of paper had been stuck under the windshield wiper. A note?
Mike opened the driver’s door to turn on the dome light so he could read what she’d written in lipstick.
Don’t bother taking me back to the ranch. I’ll find a ride or call a cab.
Oh, for Pete’s sake. What more could go wrong tonight? And where did Tammy think she’d she find a ride at this hour? The town had shut down—other than that diner on Elm.
Mike climbed into the pickup, started the engine and made a U-turn. Then he headed down the street, his headlights on high beam, his eyes peeled on the side of the road for a woman on foot.
When he reached the diner, he parked out front, then went inside and asked if anyone had seen a woman wearing black denim jeans and a turquoise top.
“Was she a pretty lil’ brunette in her mid-twenties?” a man seated at the counter asked. “About five foot nothin’, but every bit a woman?”
That could only be Tammy. So Mike nodded.
“She hired a trucker to take her home. You just missed ’em.”
“A trucker?” What had she been thinking? Didn’t she know how risky it was to get a ride from a stranger?
His expression must have announced his concern, because one of the waitresses chuckled. “Don’t worry. It wasn’t just any ol’ trucker. Your friend caught a ride with Mary Jane Baumgartner, who’s been driving eighteen-wheelers for years. Mary Jane will get her home safe and sound.”
Mike thanked the waitress, then returned to his pickup and headed to the Flying B.
Twenty minutes later, as he turned onto the road that led to the ranch, he passed a big rig on its way back to town. He was relieved to know that, apparently, Tammy had gotten home safely. But he still had half a notion to tell her that catching a ride with a stranger, even a woman, was a half-baked idea.
Mike continued on to the house, which had nearly every light turned on. He assumed the family had gathered at Tex’s bedside, and he hoped that the old rancher’s passing would be quick and peaceful.
After parking and making his way to the wraparound porch, he rapped lightly on the door. Moments later, Tina, the housekeeper, answered and invited him inside.
“Thanks for coming, Doc.” The fifty-something housekeeper blotted her eyes with a damp, wadded tissue.
“Am I too late?”
“No, but it won’t be much longer.”
He scanned the living room, where the Byrd family had gathered. But he didn’t see Tammy among them.
Had he been wrong about her taking a cab home? His gut clenched. “Is Tammy here?”
“Yes, she’s with Tex now. But you go right on in. He’s already talked to the others.”
“Is he in pain?” Mike asked.
“He doesn’t appear to be.”
“Good.”
Mike didn’t take time to greet anyone. Instead, he headed down the hall. When he reached Tex’s bedroom, the door was open.
Tammy stood at the old man’s bedside, holding his hand. Upon hearing Mike’s approach, she glanced over her shoulder. They barely made eye contact, when she turned to her grandfather. “Doc is here, now. I’ll get out of the way so he can talk to you.”
Tex, whose eyes were closed, didn’t respond.
As Tammy passed Mike in the doorway, he caught her hand. “We need to talk.”
“Why?” She smiled, yet it held none of the warmth and spark he’d grown to expect. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
He would have argued with her, but he let it go for now and made his way to Tex’s bedside, where he assessed his patient’s condition.
Tina had been right.
Moments later, Mike watched as Tex drew his last breath. The cantankerous old patriarch who’d wanted to see his family pull together was gone, his last wish fulfilled—at least, somewhat.
Mike went out into the living room, where the Byrds had gathered. “He’s gone.”
Sam was the first to slip out of the room and go outside, followed by William. For a moment, Mike suspected they’d embrace in grief—or at least say something. Instead, they went off in opposite directions.
Tammy followed her father.
Mike stuck around for a while, waiting for Tammy to return. But when the mortuary came for Tex’s body, she still hadn’t come back to the house.
At the break of dawn, he walked out to the cabin to look for her, but she wasn’t there.
It wasn’t until he started back for the ranch that he noticed her Chevy S-10 pickup was gone.
Mike took a deep breath, then raked his hand through his hair. He had two women to talk to. And while he’d been determined to speak to Tammy first, it didn’t look like he would have that opportunity.
He stayed until the sun began its rise over the Flying B, but she’d yet to return. So he drove back to town, where Katrina waited.
* * *
Tammy sat behind the wheel of her parked pickup and watched the sunrise. It was amazing how someone could die and a romance could crash and burn—all within the space of an hour—yet life as one knew it went on, the sun continued to shine.
It was nearly seven now, if the clock on her dash was right. She couldn’t continue to sit on the side of the county road, staring out the bug-splattered windshield. But she was in no hurry to go anywhere.
After her grandfather’s passing, she’d just needed to go outside, to get some fresh air, to find some private time to grieve—for both Tex’s death and for Mike’s betrayal.
Okay. She had to admit that Mike hadn’t actually betrayed her in the sense that her uncle had betrayed her father. After all, she and Mike hadn’t even gotten around to making a commitment to each other. But Tammy had already married the man in her heart, and as far as she was concerned, the proclamations of love, a little gold band and vows were only a formality.
God, how could she be so stupid, so naive?
About the time she was going to kick herself for dreaming the impossible, she shook off the urge to beat herself up about it. Why should she, when Mike was the one who forgot to mention that he had a fiancée?
Sure, he might have said that he and Katrina “used to be” engaged, but she still wore his ring. Tammy had seen it glimmer and shine in the glow of the porch light.
How low-down could a man get?
Well, apparently, as low-down as her uncle, when he’d slept with her father’s girlfriend.
Before last night, Tammy had only been able to imagine the pain her father had gone through when he’d found out about Savannah and Sam. And now she knew firsthand how he felt.
Well, at least, she had a much better idea.
And that’s why, when her father had gone outside after Mike announced Tex’s passing, Tammy had followed him out the door and to his restored 1975 Trans Am.
“How’re you doing?” she’d asked, when she finally caught up with him.
“Not so good.”
Her heart ached for him. He’d lost his father, and she knew how badly she would feel if she were to lose hers. And how much worse it would be to think she’d wasted thirty-five years staying away from him.
“I promised Dad that I’d try to put the past behind me,” he said, “but forgiving Sam is going to be tough.”
She supposed, after more than thirty years of letting anger simmer into bitterness, it would be.
“I know about Savannah,” she said. “An
d I understand why you’re so mad at him.”
Her father tensed, then his shoulders slumped. “I loved your mom, Tam. Don’t ever think that I didn’t. But just because I found someone later and married her, doesn’t mean that I was able to forgive or forget what my brother did.”
“If Sam was the one who wronged you, why did you stay away from Tex?”
“Because he’s the one who lit into Savannah, calling her names, making her the villainess. I’ve always felt that if I’d gone to Savannah, talked to her, that I could have... Well, that things might have been different. But Dad chased her off, and as a result, she ran away.” Her father paused, brow furrowed. “No, that’s not true. It’s as if Savannah vaporized. I know, because I tried to find her and couldn’t.”
“Have you forgiven Tex?”
“I told him I did when I first got here. And then again tonight.”
“Did you mean it?”
He paused for the longest time. “Yeah, I guess I did.”
She pondered the latest piece in the puzzle, wondering if it would be wise to withhold the information about a possible pregnancy. But maybe too much had been kept secret for way too long.
“I have to tell you something, Dad. While cleaning out the cabin Savannah had stayed in, I found an old grocery store receipt. And one of the items purchased was a home pregnancy test.”
He jerked back, as if she’d slapped him. Then he raked a hand through his hair. “No kidding?”
“I wouldn’t joke about something like that. Of course, just because I found a receipt doesn’t mean it was Savannah’s. Or, if it was hers, that the results had been positive.”
He glanced up at the night sky, at the stars, as if imploring God to step in and fix a mess that only seemed to grow stickier.
“What are you going to do?”
“About Savannah? Not a damn thing.”
“What if she was pregnant? What if—”
Her dad placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Let it go, Tam. I’m going to have a hard enough time forgiving my brother as it is. If she took off, pregnant, I might never forgive Sam. Or my dad.”
Then he pressed a kiss against her cheek. “I gotta get out of here for a while. The past is closing in on me, and I need some fresh air—and some perspective.”
“I understand, Daddy. I love you.”
“Love you, too, honey.” He placed his hand on her cheek, his eyes lingering on hers until they glistened. Then he brushed a kiss on her cheek and turned away.
She thought about calling him back, but she let him climb into his car and rev the engine. As he pulled away, she noticed Mike’s pickup.
Earlier tonight, she’d sat in the cab, watching him talk to Katrina, wishing she could hear what was being said. Then he’d returned to the truck, his expression somber.
Wait here, he’d told Tammy, before going into the house to help Katrina “get settled.”
But Tammy never had liked following orders, especially a man’s. So she’d offered a lady trucker fifty dollars to drive her out to the Flying B.
Then, when she’d passed Mike in the doorway of Tex’s bedroom, he’d mentioned it again. We need to talk.
She’d told him there was nothing to talk about at the time, but there really was. She’d like to give him a piece of her mind—if she could figure out a way to do it without cussing, and stomping, and spitting. Or without falling apart like a baby.
So that’s why she’d gotten into her pickup at that time and had driven off. And it was why she was now waiting to return to the Flying B until she was sure he was gone.
But if he was no longer on the ranch, that meant he’d gone back to Katrina.
She slammed her hand on the dash and blew out a sigh. Then she started the ignition, pulled back onto the road and drove to the Flying B.
Did she dare hope that she’d find him waiting for her?
When she arrived, Mike was gone. Her heart stung at the thought of where he’d gone.
Still, his vehicle wasn’t the only one missing. It seemed that her uncle and father had gone, too.
Upon entering the living room, she found Jenna and Donna seated on the sofa. Tina and Barbara sat across from them. They each held either a coffee mug or a teacup.
“I guess we should start thinking about the services,” Jenna said.
Barbara shook her head. “That won’t be necessary. Tex wanted to be cremated without any fuss and fanfare.”
“What about a celebration of life,” Tammy said, as she joined the women. “It doesn’t seem right to just...”
She caught herself, thought over what she was about to say. That it didn’t feel right to forget that Tex had ever lived.
But wasn’t that what her father and uncle had done? Driven off the ranch and refused to return, just as if he’d died thirty-some years ago?
“Tex was very specific about that,” Tina said. “He’s got it all laid out in his will. He doesn’t want anything other than a quiet, graveside service until both of his sons have buried the hatchet.”
That just might take a long time, Tammy thought. Especially if there was another Byrd out there somewhere.
Tina smiled, then set down her coffee mug. “I can still remember what he said. ‘Tell ’em I don’t want any false sentiments. When they can finally put the past to rest—and appreciate at least a couple of good things I did as their father—then y’all can have a big party. But there isn’t a damn thing to celebrate on the Flying B until that happens. Otherwise, I’ll go down in the annals of family history as a failure.’”
But what if the feud never did get patched up? Tammy wondered.
“By the way,” Barbara added, “Darren Culpepper, his attorney and friend, will be coming by at the end of the week to have the formal reading of the will. But from what I heard, it’s laid out just the way Tex told you during that meeting you had.”
Before anyone could respond, Tina got to her feet. “I don’t know about you girls, but I’m exhausted. I’m going to try and get some sleep.”
“I was just thinking the same thing,” Barbara said, as she stood.
When the older women left the room, Jenna turned to Tammy. “How are you holding up? I know we just met Tex recently, but you were probably the one who was the closest to him.”
Tammy opened her mouth to explain, but the words jammed in her throat and tears welled in her eyes.
Jenna set down her teacup. “I’m sorry, Tammy. I know how badly it hurts to lose someone you love. But at least we finally got the chance to meet him, to know him.”
“It’s not Tex.” Tammy sniffled. “I mean, it is. I feel sad about that, too. But it’s more than that.” She went on to tell her cousins that her scheme had backfired, that she lost the man she loved.
Jenna stood, crossed the room and enveloped Tammy in a warm embrace. “I’m so sorry. Just know that you have me.”
“You have me, too,” Donna said. “You know what they say about Byrds of a feather.”
They flock together. Somewhat warmed at the thought, Tammy managed a smile. “Thanks, you guys. I’m glad we found each other.”
Still she feared her heart would never mend, that she’d never fall in love again.
“You know,” Donna said, as she got up from the sofa, “I need to turn in, too.”
“Good idea.” Jenna lowered her arms and took a step back.
“Ditto,” Tammy said. “And even though I don’t know if I can sleep, I’d better give it a try.”
As she headed for the front door, Jenna stopped her. “Where are you going, Tammy?”
“To the cabin. I need some time alone.”
Jenna nodded, clearly understanding.
But what she didn’t know was that Tammy hoped to fall asleep in the feather bed and
to pray for a dream that would tell her what the future would bring.
Because unless there was some kind of miracle in the works, her future wouldn’t include Mike.
Chapter Twelve
Late that afternoon, Tammy woke with a start. It took her a moment to remember where she was—napping on the feather bed in Savannah’s cabin.
She blinked a couple of times and rubbed her eyes, trying to orient herself after a visit to dreamland.
Dreamland.
Now that was interesting. She’d had a dream, all right. But since neither she nor Mike were in it, she realized that her future was still just as uncertain as it had been hours ago, before she’d placed her head on the pillow and dozed off.
As she climbed from the bed, she began to straighten the coverlet. While she’d slept, she’d dreamed of a little dark-haired girl, who’d been sitting on top of this very bed. Her darling cherub face was a sweet, gooey mess, yet she continued to reach into a heart-shaped candy box and shove chocolates into her mouth.
She’d only had on a pair of pink panties and matching ribbons tied on her pigtails.
In the distance, a woman’s voice called, “Bella Rose! Where are you? Did you run off with Mama’s candy?”
The child’s eyes, as blue as the Texas sky, grew wide, and her mouth formed an O. She quickly plopped onto her tummy and wiggled off the bed.
Once her pudgy little legs hit the floor, she scampered off, leaving the heart-shaped box and a scatter of half-bitten chocolates on the bed.
And then Tammy woke up.
While the child had been darling, she hadn’t seen any recognizable faces or heard any voices that made her believe that mere remnant of a dream had anything to do with her and Mike’s future.
But what had she truly expected? That miracle vision she’d hoped would provide a clue of what was to come?
As she left the bedroom, she froze in her steps.
Rather than a revelation of the future, had that dream been a vision of the past?
The child eating candy actually resembled photos of Tammy as a little girl—before her mother had died.
Was that the “Mama” whose Valentine chocolates had been snatched by a two-year-old thief?
