The Heart of Hill Country

by Sherryl Woods

  It took him only a few awe-struck moments to make his selection and to arrange for a delivery to the ranch. At the mention of White Pines, the middle-aged clerk became even more accommodating.

  “This is for Angie, then? I heard she was expecting a baby any minute.”

  The grapevine hadn’t wasted a second, he noticed. “True enough.”

  “So,” the woman said, “are you the proud daddy?”

  Clint figured it wasn’t any big secret, not at this point. “That’s right.”

  “You’re a lucky man. Angie was always a doll. I taught her English all through high school. I just moonlight here during the holidays. She had a real gift for understanding literature. I always thought she’d teach one day. I heard that’s what she studied at college.”

  Since she seemed to have more facts than he did about Angie’s educational history, Clint kept silent. The clerk handed him his receipt. “You have a real nice Christmas and tell Angie I said hello. Mrs. Grayson. She’ll remember. Tell her I’d love to see her if she gets a minute while she’s home.”

  “I’ll be sure and tell her,” Clint agreed. “Merry Christmas.”

  He made one more stop en route back to the car and tucked that gift in his pocket. He was leaning against the side of the pickup in nineteen minutes. He noticed there was no sign of Angie.

  He finally spotted her lugging an ungainly bundle down the block. She could barely see around it.

  “What on earth?” he asked, taking it from her and hoisting it into the bed of the truck. It wasn’t as heavy as he’d expected, but it was the most oddly shaped package he’d ever seen. His curiosity stirred, despite his long-standing disinterest in gifts of any kind. Except for the gathering of relatives, holidays hadn’t been a big deal at his house. Gifts had been practical, not sentimental or lavish. He’d never even seen, much less received anything that looked quite like this.

  “Do I get a clue?” he asked, eyeing the giant red package with its huge green bow.

  She grinned. “Do I?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Then neither do you.”

  “Just answer one question, then. Is it likely to explode?”

  “Probably not,” she said, her expression thoughtful. “Not if you drive very carefully.”

  “You know, angel, you’re a real cutup.”

  “So they say.”

  He thought about passing along the message from her old high school teacher, then thought better of it. If he mentioned Mrs. Grayson, it was entirely possible that Angela would know where she moonlighted during the holidays. She might have been doing it for years. He would pass along the greetings tomorrow.

  “Are you finished now?” Angela asked.

  He glanced at the mound of packages tucked behind the seats of the truck. “I think so. I have something for your parents, all the aunts and uncles, the cousins and both housekeepers. That should do it, right?”

  “Unless you’re into pet toys, yes.”

  “Pets?”

  “Dani has managed to foist off several kittens over the years. The main house is crawling with them, because Grandpa Harlan has always been a sucker for one of her sob stories. Uncle Jordan set a limit of two at home and he claims he’s not happy about that, but I notice every time we’re over there that one cat or another is always in his lap. Fortunately Dani’s animal hospital also sells pet supplies and toys, so we buy them wholesale.”

  He shook his head. “Forgive me, but I think I’ll skip presents for the cats.”

  “I’ll forgive you,” she said readily, then regarded him slyly. “Dani’s a whole other story.”

  He sighed. “Where’s the clinic?”

  She grinned. “Just two streets down to the left. She’ll be thrilled to see us.”

  “How many cats are we talking about?”

  “Hard to say. The little devils multiply like rabbits.”

  “You’d think she’d do something about that. She is a vet, for goodness’ sakes.”

  “She’s also a soft touch. Every kid in town knows they can get a free kitten from her that’s up-to-date on all its shots. She’s the town’s own personal animal shelter. There’s no need for a pet store in Los Pinos.”

  Following Angela’s directions, he pulled up in front of a small white house with dark green shutters. An old-fashioned white sign hung from a wrought-iron pole. A half-dozen cats lazed in patches of sunlight on the sloping front porch.

  “The clinic entrance is on the side,” Angela told him. “We can go in through the house and catch her in her office. Judging from the number of cars along here, half the pets in town have been overindulging in Christmas goodies. The waiting room will be a mess. Besides, family does have its privileges.”

  A harried-looking Dani barely waved at them as they slipped into the back of the clinic.

  “Shopping for the cats,” Angela called over the racket of barking dogs, howling cats and an occasional protesting screech from what sounded like a parrot or maybe a myna bird.

  “A lot of pets get boarded here over the holidays,” Angela told him. “I tried helping out once when I was in high school and Dani was still assisting Doc Inscoe during vacations from veterinary school. I couldn’t stand it. Too much commotion. She’s in heaven, though, and that’s what matters. It was the only thing she ever wanted to do.”

  She led the way into what struck Clint as a pet store boutique. It was filled with elegant little sweaters for puppies, outrageously expensive leashes, dog houses that looked like mansions and a more varied assortment of toys than he’d ever imagined existed.

  “Dani tends to indulge her animals. She thinks everyone else should, too. It’s her little eccentricity, but we love her, anyway.”

  While he was still gaping in amazement, she zeroed in on several inexpensive little kitty treats hanging from an artificial tree like decorations. She gathered up a supply.

  “I’ll total up the cost at home and you can pay her when you see her,” she said, dumping her selections into a bag and handing it to him.

  “Are you sure this isn’t a setup to get me arrested for shoplifting?” he inquired as they headed back through the house without so much as a parting wave for the clinic’s owner.

  “She won’t even remember we’ve been here,” Angela assured him. “Your money will come as a huge and welcome surprise.”

  Clint shrugged. “If you say so.”

  He added this package to all the others, then helped Angela into the truck. “Is this it? Anything else you want to do here in town?”

  She shook her head.

  Clint started the truck, then glanced over and caught the faraway expression on her face.

  “What is it?”

  “It just sank in. You and I are actually going to White Pines. Together.”

  There was something in her eyes and in her voice that told him not to make light of that. “That means even more to you than me showing up at your folks’ place, doesn’t it?”

  She nodded. “I can’t really explain it. Our ranch is home, but White Pines is...” Her voice trailed off.

  “Is what?” he prodded.

  “Something special,” she said eventually. “Our history, I guess. Just wait. You’ll see. Grandpa’s ranch is like no place else on earth.”

  Given the fact that her own family’s ranch was pretty spectacular, that was saying something. “Big?” he asked, trying to pin it down.

  “Our place is bigger actually. Luke was trying to make a statement. It’s not the house or even the land. It’s a feeling that comes over all of us there, a sense of our own history maybe. Home is home,” she said, clearly struggling to explain so he would understand. “White Pines is our heritage.”

  Heritage wasn’t something that had meant much to Clint growing up. He’d hoped to change that with his own small ranch. He’d
envisioned it as a legacy he could pass on, one that would flourish and grow with succeeding generations. It was clear that Harlan Adams and the generations preceding him had already endowed Angela and the others with that kind of meaningful legacy.

  For one fleeting instant of doubt, he wondered if he would ever be able to offer her anything that would compare to it.

  10

  Clint and Angela’s belated arrival at White Pines was greeted with amazement. Most of the family had already settled in and started helping Consuela and Maritza with the final preparations for tonight’s family celebration and tomorrow’s traditional open house but they all came out to help with the bundles that Clint had managed to amass in Los Pinos, exclaiming over the sheer number of them.

  “I told you you were going overboard,” Angela told him.

  “What’d you do, son? Buy out the stores?” Grandpa Harlan asked with a grin.

  He shot a look Angela’s way, then said, “We tried, sir. Angela wore out too quickly.”

  “Very funny,” she retorted. “Everything’s wrapped. The presents can go straight under the tree.”

  “Except for the cat toys,” Clint reminded her dryly.

  “Oh, no, you didn’t,” her mother protested. “Tell me you did not make Clint buy gifts for all of your grandfather’s cats.”

  “What can I say? He was feeling generous.”

  “And you took advantage,” her mother chided, regarding Clint with sympathy. “Shame on you, Angela.”

  “Just doing my bit to keep Dani’s business afloat,” Angela insisted nobly. “She’d give away the store unless she’s changed drastically.”

  Silence fell at what should have been no more than an innocuous comment. To Angela’s confusion her mother rushed to change the subject.

  Angela put her hand on her mother’s arm to prevent her from leaving. She let the others lead Clint inside. As soon as they were out of earshot, she asked, “Mom, what’s going on with Dani? I sensed something the other day, but Sharon Lynn hushed me up. Now everybody here gets all quiet when I so much as mention the possibility that she’s changed.”

  “Sweetie, she’s had a rough year, that’s all,” her mother said, looking decidedly uncomfortable. “I’m sure she’ll tell you about it one of these days.”

  “Why don’t you tell me and save her the trouble?” Angela suggested. “It might keep me from putting my foot in my mouth over and over again.”

  “It’s her story to tell or keep to herself.”

  “Someone hurt her,” Angela guessed. “Badly.”

  Her mother sighed. “Yes. Very badly. She lost three people she loved very much. Now let it go. Christmas is not the time for Dani to be thinking about the past. The best gifts you could give her are your love and support.”

  “And no questions,” Angela surmised.

  “Exactly.”

  She relented and kept the burgeoning questions to herself. She followed her mother inside. The rest of the family was gathered in the huge living room discussing the best place for the mound of gifts Clint had bought.

  “We can’t put them under the tree,” Jenny protested. “It’s not even decorated yet. We’ll be stepping on them.” Her dark eyes glinted with mischief. “I say we open them now.”

  “Nice try, you little sneak,” Angela teased. “You always did want to open something on Christmas Eve. Next thing we knew you had half your presents open. It’s time you learned to wait until morning like the rest of us. You’re supposed to be grown-up, the oldest of all of us. It’s about time you set an example.”

  “What’s the fun of being grown-up at Christmas?” Jenny complained, poking at a particularly lumpy package with evident curiosity.

  “You get to discover the joy of anticipation,” Angela told her, then glanced at Clint. His steady gaze stirred its own brand of anticipation deep inside her. Aside from a couple of stolen kisses and a few fleeting, if very promising caresses, he’d barely touched her in too many months now. She knew all about the slow build of anticipation. Judging from the hunger she saw burning in his eyes, so did he.

  She wondered idly if they could sneak in a kiss or two if she showed him the way to his room now. Her grandfather promptly put an end to that idea by suggesting a tour of the ranch before dark. Angela knew when it came to a competition between her and a herd of cows, it was a real toss-up which one would win. Clint reacted with predictable enthusiasm. Naturally Cody and Luke had to go along. Jordan stayed behind to make business calls.

  “On Christmas Eve?” her grandfather grumbled. “What’s wrong with you, boy? Don’t you ever take a vacation?”

  “When I do, it won’t be to sightsee on a ranch I grew up on,” Jordan retorted, grinning to soften the remark. “I’ll whisk my beautiful wife off to a deserted beach in the Caribbean. You go chase after your cows. While I’m sitting in here by the fire, I promise I’ll think of all of you out there freezing your butts off for no good reason.”

  After they’d gone and the women had retreated to the kitchen once again, Angela was left with her uncle. She wondered if Jordan would be any more forthcoming about Dani’s troubles than her mother had been. Tales of his bemusement at becoming the adoptive father of a precocious five-year-old when he’d married Kelly were part of family legend. It was evident to anyone, though, that Jordan had taken to fatherhood and to Dani with the same kind of dedication that had built his oil empire.

  “Uncle Jordan, can I ask you something before you make those calls?” Angela asked.

  He glanced up distractedly from the pocket-sized computer that held the numbers of his important business contacts. “Sure, angel. What’s up?”

  “I’m worried about Dani. She hasn’t seemed herself since I got back.”

  Normally the most tranquil of her relatives, Jordan suddenly looked mad enough to wring somebody’s neck with his bare hands. “Leave it be,” he said curtly.

  “But—”

  “Dammit, I said leave it alone,” he thundered. “She’s been through enough without dragging it all up again, OK? The holidays are going to be especially bad as it is, thanks to that fool idiot she fell for.”

  His fury stunned her into momentary silence. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, beginning to get the picture, though far from all of it. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  His expression softened. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t be taking it out on you. I know you’re just concerned about her. Please, please, just don’t ask her about it. Can you promise me that?”

  “Of course,” she said at once.

  To herself, though, she vowed to get at the bottom of Dani’s troubles. The two of them had always been especially close. Four when Angela was born, Dani had prided herself on helping to care for her messy baby cousin. As they had grown up, Dani had always been as eager as she to get into mischief.

  “You two are just natural-born trouble,” her grandfather had said on more than one occasion. He’d always said it with more pride than venom, though. Grandpa Harlan admired spunk, even when it made mincemeat of the discipline their parents favored. They knew to save their most daring enterprises for visits to White Pines.

  “What happened, Dani?” she murmured as she climbed the stairs to the room she’d always used on visits to White Pines. “What or who hurt you so?” Every instinct told her this went way beyond a simple broken romance.

  * * *

  For the first time since his arrival in Texas in search of Angela, Clint felt his old confidence soaring. Ranching was something he knew and loved every bit as much as the men who were riding over White Pines land with him. Like them, he appreciated the beauty of the land. Like them, he understood the complexities and hardships of the business and the excitement of mastering the daily challenges.

  “You have an impressive operation here,” he told Harlan and Cody.

  “It wasn’t a
lways that way,” Harlan told him. “My ancestors hadn’t run the ranch the way they should have. It took a lot of time and hard work and pure cussedness to make it what it is today.”

  “You should have seen us trying to drag Daddy into the computer age,” Cody said. “He still thinks those new-fangled machines will be the downfall of us all.” He grinned at his father. “Am I quoting you accurately?”

  “Pretty much,” Harlan said. “I still say you’re in a hell of a fix when the electricity goes out and everything you need to know about your operation is lost in some danged machine.”

  “That’s why we have back-up disks and battery-powered laptops,” Cody responded.

  “More money wasted that could have been spent on a new bull for the herd,” Harlan insisted.

  “See what I mean?” Cody said. “He’d be happy if we still did the books in an old ledger.”

  “Come up to my place,” Clint suggested. “I’m lucky if my receipts ever get entered into a ledger. By the time I get back to the ranch house at the end of the day about all I can cope with is falling into bed. You’d be in heaven.”

  “He would,” Luke agreed. “What about it, Daddy? Want to go and rough it at Clint’s? You can reminisce about the good old days.”

  Harlan scowled at his sons. “Now the two of you are trying to run me off my own place. That’s the trouble with sons, Clint. Now daughters,” he said with a sigh, “they’re something else again. They give a man comfort in his old age.”

  Luke and Cody exchanged a look.

  “He must have forgotten about Jenny stealing his pickup and crashing it into a tree,” Cody said.

  “And the time she ransacked the tool shed and splashed paint all over it,” Luke added. “Then there was Lizzy’s nosedive from the barn rafters. Broke her arm in two places.”