CHAPTER EIGHT
The truck pitched and heaved, first left and then right, as they neared Bitter End. Savannah hung on as best she could, but her shoulders continued to slam against Laredo’s, jarring them both. Thankfully they were able to follow the tire tracks from her last visit, otherwise she wasn’t sure she could have located it a second time.
“I can’t believe you found this place on your own,” Laredo said, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.
“It wasn’t easy—took me weeks of searching.”
More than once she’d been tempted to forsake the idea, but the thought of finding old roses had spurred her onward. Her patience had been richly rewarded. Not only had she discovered the White Lady Banks, her most valuable find to date, but on that same day she’d come across Laredo.
The truck pitched sharply and Laredo cursed under his breath.
“We’re pretty close now,” she assured him. His face was tense with concentration, and although he drove cautiously, he couldn’t avoid jolting the truck on the rough ground. There was barely even a track.
Savannah was grateful Laredo had agreed to escort her back to the ghost town, but what she looked forward to even more was their picnic. They were rarely alone. This stolen time was bound to be special.
Laredo eased the truck to a stop when they could go no farther.
“It’s only a short walk from here,” she promised.
The trek was difficult, through brush and dense cedars, and they were both breathless before the town came into view.
“So this is Bitter End,” Laredo muttered as he climbed over rocks to a limestone ledge that overlooked the town. He offered Savannah his hand.
She took it and stepped up. From the outskirts Bitter End resembled any other ghost town. A row of forsaken buildings lined the main street, four or five on each side, in various states of disrepair, various stages of dying. Paintless shutters hung crookedly by empty windows. The stillness and lack of sound gave it an eerie unreal feeling. Wind-tossed tumbleweeds had wedged in the corners and along the boardwalk. A quick inspection didn’t reveal any visible plant life, but there had to be some roses. The ones in the cemetery had survived. Others would’ve, too.
The largest building in town was the church, which sat on a hill at the far end of town, next to the cemetery. Time had left it remarkably untouched. It’d remained white and unblemished except for the charred steeple, which had apparently been struck by lightning. At the other end of town was a corral.
They clambered down a rocky embankment into the town itself. Then it happened just as it had on her first visit. The feeling of sadness and pain. Whatever possessed Bitter End wasn’t ghosts or spirits, of that she was fairly certain, but a sorrow so strong even the years hadn’t dimmed it.
She looked at Laredo, who faced the town squarely, feet slightly apart, ready, it seemed, for anything. He stood there silently, as if he was listening and yet heard nothing.
“Do you feel it?” she whispered. Normal tones didn’t seem right. On her previous visit she hadn’t murmured a word. She’d been in and out of the town within ten minutes. Just long enough to dig up the roses and replace them with a bush from her own garden.
“Are you sure you want to go ahead with this?” Laredo asked. He, too, spoke in a whisper, unwilling to disturb whatever it was that awaited them.
Savannah slipped her arm through his. “I’m positive.”
“Then let’s get it over with and get the hell out.”
“There aren’t any ghosts here,” she told him, still in a whisper.
“Whatever you say.” He smiled for the first time since their arrival.
“It won’t take long to look for more roses,” she said. The presence of another person—someone she trusted—made the town seem a little less frightening.
If Laredo wasn’t in such an all-fired hurry to leave, it might have been fun to explore the interior of some of the buildings. But then again, Savannah had the distinct impression they were trespassing as it was.
“Where do you want to start?” Laredo asked as they neared the main street.
“Anyplace is fine. I was in the cemetery earlier.” She motioned toward the church and the graveyard behind it. They walked side by side, holding hands. His warm grasp lent her reassurance.
The farther they went into town, the stronger the sense of sorrow became. With each step down the narrow street, the feeling grew darker. During her last visit she’d hurried through Bitter End as quickly as possible on her way to the cemetery, trying to shake off the sense of misery and unease.
She’d actually enjoyed visiting the graveyard. The sensation hadn’t been nearly as powerful there, and she’d been fascinated by the headstones. Most of the names and dates on the simple markers were no longer legible, but that hadn’t stopped her from picturing the kind of life the people of Bitter End had lived. It would have been a harsh existence, battling hunger, disease and the elements.
Savannah recalled the stories she’d read about the frontier days when Texas had been wild and unforgiving. Stories she would one day read to her own children.
Her own children.
The thought caught her unprepared. All these years Savannah had assumed she’d never marry. Since meeting Laredo she’d begun to believe that all things were possible for her. A husband and a family of her own. Despite the eeriness of the place, Savannah’s heart gladdened.
After a few minutes exploring the town’s streets, Savannah realized that the trip had been a waste of time and energy. Whatever flowers, roses or otherwise, once bloomed in Bitter End had long since died. Nothing grew inside the town. Nothing. Everything was dead, including the land itself.
The lone tree, an oak with gnarled limbs, was hollow and lifeless. It stood in silent testimony to a time and place long forgotten.
“Don’t you think it’s a bit bizarre that there’s nothing alive here? Not even a weed?” Laredo commented.
She nodded. The only plants that had survived one-hundred-plus years were the roses she’d discovered at the cemetery. “I want to go back,” she said.
“I couldn’t agree with you more,” Laredo murmured.
“I mean, to the cemetery,” she said.
He hesitated. “Are you sure that’s wise?”
“I don’t know, but I’m curious about the grave site where I found the roses.” It didn’t add up in Savannah’s mind. If those roses had survived, then it made sense that other plants would have, too.
“In my humble opinion,” Laredo said, his words barely audible, “we shouldn’t tempt fate. Let’s leave while the leaving’s good. All right?”
His hand gripped Savannah’s with such force that her fingers throbbed. He wasn’t intentionally hurting her, she knew, but reacting to the tension inside him.
“All right,” she agreed. “We’ll go. I’ll look some other time.”
“No.” The force behind the single word brought her up short.
“I don’t want you coming back here,” he said with an urgency that baffled her. “Not for anything. Understand? This place gives me the creeps.”
Despite her love for him, she couldn’t make that kind of promise. “No. Someday there might be a very good reason for me to return.”
Clearly, he wanted to argue the point, but right then, leaving appeared to be a higher priority. Frequently looking over his shoulder, Laredo led her back toward the faint path that would take them to the truck.
As they walked, the sensation gradually lifted from her shoulders. Savannah could feel it slipping away. Like a silk scarf dragged across a palm, the sensation faded until it was completely gone.
Once they reached the pickup, Laredo helped Savannah inside, then climbed in himself. He couldn’t seem to start the engine fast enough. His anxiety, even greater than her own, was contagious.
Savannah didn’t want to know what had created the feeling that pervaded Bitter End. There was nothing good in that town and maybe there never had been.
* * *
Life was filled with mysteries, Laredo told himself. The answers weren’t always meant to be known. That was the way he felt about this ghost town. Grady hadn’t said much about it, only that it wasn’t a safe place for Savannah. Her brother couldn’t trust her not to return on her own, so he’d put aside his dislike and distrust of Laredo and sought his help.
For the first time Laredo appreciated Grady’s fears. He didn’t know what the hell had happened in that town. But he didn’t need to know. As far as he was concerned, Bitter End could continue as it had for more than a hundred years without interruption from him.
He leaned against the tree trunk and watched Savannah unpack the picnic basket. He still wasn’t keen on lazing away the afternoon under a flowering pecan, but his objection to the wasted time felt much less urgent now.
The spot she’d chosen for their picnic was as lovely as she’d promised. The river flowed swiftly nearby, the clean sound of water a sharp contrast to what he’d experienced a short time before.
Savannah finished unloading the wicker basket and quickly assembled them each a plate—roast-beef sandwiches, yesterday’s potato salad, homemade pickles. They ate in companionable silence for a while, then both spoke at once.
“You felt it, too, didn’t you?” she asked.
“Was it the same as before?” he asked.
They paused and grinned, then Laredo took the lead. “I’ll tell you what,” he said. “Let’s not talk about the town.”
“Why not?”
He wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relieved. “I want to talk about you.”
“Me?” She shook her head. “You already know everything.”
“No, I’m sure I don’t. For instance, who taught you to cook like this?” He couldn’t remember a time he’d eaten better. Not in years. Not since he was a child, when he’d been too young to appreciate a home-cooked meal.
“My mother loved cooking. Baking, too. Mealtime was a matter of pride to her. I guess we’re more alike than I realized.” Her eyes grew wide. “You would have liked her, Laredo—she was a wonderful woman.”
He didn’t doubt that, not with the way he felt about Savannah. Relaxed as he was, the sun behind him, the sound of the river singing nearby, Laredo yawned, lulled by the serenity of the spot. “You’d like my mother, too.”
He hadn’t meant to talk about himself, but once he’d mentioned his mother, she wouldn’t let the subject drop. Before long he was answering her questions, talking about his mother in Tulsa. About her being widowed in 1972. And how she’d moved back to the same house where she’d been born and raised, the house where she still lived. How she’d been dating the same man for twenty years without any plan to marry him.
“I know I’d like her,” Savannah said wistfully. Then she lowered her gaze until her long lashes grazed the high arch of her cheeks. “Would you... Never mind.” Savannah reached for a blade of grass and nervously twisted it around her finger.
“Would I what?” he prodded, enjoying her discomfort. Little did she realize that he’d do just about anything for her. All she had to do was ask.
Her eyes fleetingly held his before she glanced away. “Would you like to put your head in my lap?” she asked.
This was what dreams were made of, he decided as he rested his neck against her thigh. It didn’t take long for her fingers to weave their way into his hair, her touch soft and gentle. A memory rushed forward, one of his father and mother. His mother cutting his father’s hair in the kitchen. Laredo couldn’t have been more than four at the time, but he recalled the loving way his mother’s hands had smoothed back the hair from his father’s brow. His father had reached for her hand and kissed her palm.
Without realizing it, Laredo caught Savannah’s fingers and brought them to his lips. His heart constricted with the strength of emotion that coursed through him.
He didn’t intend to kiss her, but that was a natural progression. As natural as drawing his next breath. He lifted his head from the sanctuary of her lap and gently met her mouth with his. The hunger that surged to fire in his blood stunned him. The strength of his desire would have frightened her had he acted on it, Laredo thought. Instead, he involved himself in the kiss, his lips lingering on hers.
One kiss, he promised himself. But it soon became obvious that a single kiss wasn’t enough for either of them. They exchanged one after another, each more intense than the last. Laredo had to call on every ounce of willpower he possessed to stop.
“I like it when you kiss me,” Savannah whispered. She kept her eyes closed as she spoke.
“I like it, too,” he confessed.
“Don’t stop,” she pleaded.
Once again Laredo found himself in the position of being unable to refuse her.
The kiss was even better than the others; he’d assumed that was impossible. Savannah lay on the blanket, smiling up at him and he leaned over her.
“You taste so good I don’t want you to ever stop,” she whispered when he hesitated.
“Sweetheart, you don’t know what you’re asking.”
“I do,” she murmured, her mouth moist and slightly swollen from his kisses. “I want you to kiss me forever.”
That didn’t sound like a bad plan to Laredo, but sooner or later, kissing wouldn’t be enough to satisfy either one of them. They were fast approaching that point now.
“Savannah,” he whispered, wondering how he could explain why it wasn’t a good idea to continue.
He didn’t get a chance. She locked her arms around his neck and drew his mouth down to hers again. He tried to show her without words what she did to him. This kiss was fierce, as fierce as his growing need.
He urged her lips apart and swept her mouth with his tongue, fully expecting— Hell, he didn’t know what he was expecting. Certainly not this acceptance, this welcoming. His breath jammed in his lungs as the kiss deepened. While he waged war with his needs, she returned his lovemaking with an eagerness that destroyed his restraint. Her nails dug into his shoulders as if to bring him closer, become part of him. Laredo was convinced she didn’t really grasp the overwhelming physical intensity of his reaction, didn’t realize what she was doing to him.
Above all, he didn’t want her ending up in a sexual situation she wasn’t ready for.
When he could endure no more, he abruptly broke off the kiss and rolled away. His shoulders heaved with the strength of will it had taken to leave her.
“Did I do something wrong?” she asked after a moment.
He waited until he’d caught his breath before he answered. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“Then why did you stop?”
He closed his eyes. “I don’t think you understand—”
“Don’t treat me like a child, Laredo. I know exactly what was happening.”
He felt depleted; he hadn’t the energy to argue with her. She made him vulnerable. Much more of this kissing would have sent him over the edge. He knew his limits and they’d been reached.
He sat up and smiled. Or at least made the effort to smile. In an attempt to clear his head, he took several deep breaths.
“I called about the repairs to the truck,” he said, not looking at her. He focused on the tree limbs overhead, hoping she realized why he’d abruptly changed the subject.
His announcement was greeted with silence.
“Paul said the parts were in and all he needed was the go-ahead from me.” Laredo paused and waited for a response.
More silence.
Finally she said, “I know what you’re doing, Laredo.”
“Do you?” He doubted it.
“You’re telling me that you’re leaving Promise as soon as you can.”
So she did know, and if she was that smart, she’d probably figure out the rest. “I don’t want to hurt you, Savannah.”
“You couldn’t,” she said, her voice small. “You’ve already brought me such incredible happiness. When you do...leave—” she appeared to have trouble saying the word “—don’t worry that I’ll do anything to stop you. I’m grateful for each day we can be together. Grateful for each moment...each kiss.”
He didn’t see it that way. After all, he was the one in her debt. “I think we should get back before anyone misses us.” He was strongly tempted to resume their lovemaking, and he couldn’t be sure he possessed the determination to resist.
“Not yet,” she pleaded softly. “I left a note in the kitchen so no one’ll worry.”
He didn’t know what would happen if they kissed again—and didn’t think he could afford to find out. He stood, removing himself from temptation.
“Just a few more moments.” She regarded him with such longing he found it impossible to refuse her.
“All right,” he said, and sat back down on the blanket. “But only a few minutes longer. Okay? And no kissing.”
She nodded and thanked him with the sweetest of smiles.
A few minutes soon became two hours. Savannah closed her eyes and was immediately asleep. Laredo wondered if she’d gotten much rest the night before. He knew he hadn’t. He suspected that the only one who’d enjoyed the luxury of a night’s uninterrupted sleep was Richard.
He knew how Savannah felt about her brother and feared it was only a matter of time before Richard disappointed her. Laredo didn’t want to see that happen, but he was helpless to protect her.
Uncomfortable with his thoughts, Laredo sat against the tree and watched Savannah, appreciating her gentle beauty. Each minute was a gift; she’d been the one to express that thought, and he, too, had discovered the truth of it.
The world, his mother once told him, had a way of making all things equal. A divine order. We receive back what we give, or something along those lines. He hadn’t paid close attention at the time and now wished he had. But it seemed to him that meeting Savannah made up for everything that had ever gone wrong in his life. Every broken promise. Every unmet expectation, every unfair act.
But why did he have to meet her now? He snapped off a blade of grass and chewed on the end. Why would he meet this woman—and fall in love with her—when he had nothing to offer but hardship?
Laredo loved Savannah; he’d admitted that early on. He loved her enough to leave her, rather than ask her to scrimp and sacrifice with him. She deserved far better. He refused to cheat her of the comfort and certitude that were her right.
* * *
Ellie Frasier was busy in the back room dealing with a shipment from one of her main suppliers when Richard Weston strolled in. He wore a crisp pair of jeans, his fancy boots and brand-new Stetson, and looked more like a country singer than a rancher.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding yourself,” he said. He gazed at her boldly, eyes roaming from her hair to her booted feet, letting her know without words that he liked what he saw. Ellie wasn’t opposed to a bit of flattery now and again. Lord knew Glen and the other men in her life were damned stingy with their appreciation.
It had come as a shock to see Richard again after all these years. At first she hadn’t recognized him. As a schoolgirl she’d had a crush on him. Richard Weston had been an “older” man, both handsome and charming. That much hadn’t changed.
“I thought I’d let you take me to lunch,” he said, glancing over her shoulder to read the clipboard.
“I don’t have time today.” She wouldn’t have minded spending her lunch break with him, but she was simply too busy. She’d taken on her father’s responsibilities, as well as handling her own. Glen had suggested she hire someone to look after the books, and while she knew he was right, she’d delayed.
“You could use some time off,” Richard said, evidently disappointed she’d refused him. “And I’d love the company.”
“I wish I could.”
“Come on,” he said. “It’ll do you good.” He sent her an appealing boyish grin. “I can be a fun guy, you know.”
“I noticed.” Ellie didn’t bother to disguise her smile. The welcome-home party had been just the tonic her sinking spirits needed. The pressures of holding down the feed store and the worries over her father’s health had exhausted her.
Glen stopped off a couple of times a week to offer moral support. He was her best friend, and his down-to-earth humor had gone a long way to bolster her courage and resolve. At Richard’s party she’d relaxed and enjoyed herself for the first time in weeks. She’d danced with Glen and with Richard—and Richard had even kissed her. It was the closest thing to a date she’d had in months.
“Maybe I will escape for an hour or so,” she said, surprising herself. “The world won’t come to an end without me.”
“Great.” A smile lit up his handsome face.
Not too often was a woman given the opportunity to realize her schoolgirl dreams, Ellie mused. Okay, so she’d been fifteen and impressionable, but Richard Weston had been by far the most attractive boy in Promise. There hadn’t been a girl in school who wouldn’t have given...whatever for the chance to go out with him. Richard had played it cool, though. He’d never dated one girl for any length of time. In that sense he hadn’t changed; he must be close to thirty now and had yet to settle down.
“Where do you want to go?” he asked.
Seeing as there were very few restaurants in town, Ellie didn’t figure there were many options. “You choose.”
“How about your house?” He leaned close enough for her to catch a whiff of his musk-scented aftershave.
“My house?”
“Sure, we can rustle up something for lunch and then snuggle on the sofa for a while and talk about old times.”
He had a smile that would charm a snake. “What old times?” Ellie asked.
“We can make that part up as we go along.” His voice fell, heavy with suggestion.
“Richard!” The man was a blatant flirt.
“Why not?”
“First, I’m the world’s worst cook. Trust me, you wouldn’t want to eat anything I’ve made myself. Second, snuggling up on the sofa, tempting as it sounds, is the last thing I have time for.”
“I bet I could convince you otherwise.”
“Really?” This guy was too much. She shook her head and tossed the clipboard on a shelf facedown. “And just how do you intend to do that?”
He grinned that boyish grin again and reached for her hand, tugging her after him.
“Hey, where are we going?”
“Someplace private—where I can show you what I mean.” He looked furtively around, then pulled her inside the office and closed the door.
“Richard?”
The next thing she knew he had her pinned against the wall. He’d kissed her at the party; she’d enjoyed the attention—and the kiss hadn’t been bad, either. Maybe it was just what she’d needed to revive her energy and enthusiasm. All work and no play had dulled her senses, but Richard Weston had brought them back to life.
His kiss now was deep and sultry. By the time he lifted his head from hers, Ellie’s knees felt weak.
“How was that?” he asked.
“Not bad.” Her reply was breathless, despite her effort to sound casual. Her hands were flattened against the wall behind her, as if to prop her up. She took a deep breath. Her emotions must be in a sorry state, indeed. In fact, everything in her life seemed to be in a constant state of upheaval.
“There’s a lot more where that came from,” he promised. He ran the tip of his index finger down the V of her shirt, trailing it lower, close to the curve of her breast.
“Unfortunately,” she said, slapping his hand away, “I can’t squeeze an affair into my busy schedule.”
“Where there’s a will there’s a way.”
“Richard, please, I’m flattered but—”
He interrupted her with a second kiss. This one wet and seductive and a little too rough.
Ellie couldn’t believe she was allowing this to continue. What she’d said was true—she was flattered, but she wasn’t one to indulge in casual sex. Or casual anything.
“I’ve got responsibilities.”
“Don’t we all?”
“Richard!”
“That’s my name and I certainly like to hear you say it, but not quite like that.” His hands massaged her tired shoulders. Against every dictate of her will, Ellie closed her eyes.
“I want you to whisper my name when we’re in bed...”
She gasped. “I can’t believe you’re actually serious!”
“I’ve never been more serious. I thought about you when I was away...and I wondered if you were married. I’m glad you’re not.”
“You didn’t even know who I was!”
“Are you kidding? Believe me, I knew, but a guy can get arrested for thinking the way I did about you back then.”
Ellie recognized a lie when she heard one. “I appreciate the offer, I truly do, and if I have a vacancy anytime soon, I’ll give you a call.”
“Hey, don’t be hasty here. We were going to lunch, remember?”
A loud knock sounded on the office door. “Ellie, are you in there?”
Glen Patterson. Arriving like the cavalry the minute she needed rescuing. His timing couldn’t have been better.
“Come on in,” she called, moving toward the door.
Glen let himself inside and frowned when he saw Richard.
“I was trying to talk Ellie into getting away for an hour or so. To have lunch,” Richard explained, his smile as friendly as if they’d been involved in harmless conversation instead of a kiss.
It might have helped if Glen had displayed a shred of jealousy, but he didn’t. “Good idea,” he said, glancing at Ellie. “You need to get out more.”
“I can’t today. Maybe some other time,” she said, and scampered past the two men.
Ten minutes later Glen found her in the storeroom going through the order. “Richard’s gone?” she asked.
“Yeah. He hasn’t changed much, has he?”
“How do you mean?”
Glen didn’t answer until she glanced up from the clipboard.
“He’s a wheeler-dealer.”
“So I noticed,” she said with a chuckle. She fanned her face and deliberately expelled a breath.
“Hey, what does that mean?”
“What do you think it means?”
Glen thought about that for a moment, and either didn’t get it or wasn’t willing to say it out loud.
“Let’s put it like this,” Ellie said. “Richard Weston was interested in a whole lot more than lunch.”
Glen’s eyes widened considerably.
“Why does that shock you? Does it surprise you to realize other men might look on me as more than one of the guys?”
Again he took his time responding. “Not really. You’re about the best damn friend I’ve ever had. And you’re game for just about anything.”
“Within limits,” she said, thinking of Richard’s proposal.
“Within limits,” Glen agreed, then laughed. “Hell, maybe it isn’t such a bad idea, after all.”
“You and me?”
He looked stunned. “Hell, no. You and Richard.”