CHAPTER TWO
The boxes awaited Ellie as she unlocked her front door and stepped inside the small rented house. Stacked against the far living-room wall, they represented what felt like an insurmountable task. She paused, her eyes drawn to the piled-up cartons. If she was smart, she’d move them out of sight and deal with the emotional nightmare of sorting through her father’s things when she was better able to handle it.
But she wouldn’t put this off. Again she was her father’s daughter, and he’d taught her never to procrastinate. The thought of those boxes would hound her until she’d gone through every last one of them.
A number of delaying tactics occurred to her. There were letters to write, phone calls to make, people to thank; nevertheless, she recognized them for the excuses they were. The remains of her father’s life would still be there, demanding her attention. Occupying her mind.
It would be easy to focus her anger on her mother, but Ellie was mature enough to recognize and accept that Pam Frasier had been pampered all her life. She’d been indulged and shielded from all unpleasantness from the time she was a child. First by her family and then by her husband. John Frasier had treated his wife like a delicate Southern blossom and protected her like the gentle knight he was.
His lengthy illness had taken a toll on Ellie’s mother. To her credit Pam had done the best she could, sitting by his side for long periods at the hospital. But unfortunately she had required almost as much care and attention as her husband; she had trouble dealing with any form of illness and was horrified by the thought of death. And so, comforting John had mostly fallen to Ellie.
Dealing with John’s effects, coping with the memories, was just one more obligation her mother couldn’t manage. Heaving a sigh, Ellie rolled up her sleeves and tackled the first box.
Clothes. Work clothes the movers had packed. Ellie lovingly ran her hand over his favorite sweater, the elbows patched with leather. Pam had wanted him to throw it out—too old and shabby, she’d said. It astonished Ellie that her parents had ever married, as different as they were. They’d met while her father was in the service, and although no one had said as much, Ellie was convinced her mother had fallen in love with the uniform. Their courtship was far too short, and all too soon they were married and John was out of the army. He’d returned to Promise with his bride and joined his father at the family feed store. Ellie had been born two years later, after a difficult pregnancy. John had assured his wife he was perfectly content with one child and there was no need for more. Even as a young girl Ellie had realized her father intended to groom her to take over the store. Not once had she thought of doing anything else. She’d majored in business at the University of Texas at Austin, and although she’d dated several young men, she’d never allowed any relationship to grow serious. She couldn’t, not when it was understood she’d be returning to Promise and the feed store. After graduation, she’d found a small house to rent a few blocks from her parents and started working with her dad.
Ellie kept the sweater, but rather than unpack the rest of the clothes, she set the box aside, along with the next two, all of which contained items from his closet. The local charities were always in need of good clothes, and it would be an easy matter to drop them off.
When she opened the fourth box, Ellie paused. The old family Bible rested on top of a photo album. Carefully, using both hands, she lifted the fragile book from its cardboard shelter. The Bible had been in her father’s family for a hundred-plus years, handed down from one generation to the next. Ellie had known about it; she’d read the names listed in the front for a high-school report years before, but hadn’t opened it since. In fact, she wasn’t sure where her mother had stored it.
Curious, she sat down on the sofa and set the book on the coffee table. Leaning forward, she opened it. Once again she read the names listed, reacquainting herself with each one, recalling what her father had told her about her ancestors.
Her great-great-grandparents, Jeremiah and Esther Frasier—good Biblical names, Ellie mused—together with their three sons, whose births were also noted, had placed all their worldly possessions in a covered wagon. Then with courage and faith they’d ventured west, risking all for the promise of land in Texas.
Ellie ran her index finger down the names of the three children, pausing over the youngest, Edward Abraham. His birthday was recorded and then the date of his death only five years later. No reason was listed, only a tear-smudged Bible reference. Matthew 28:46. Not recognizing it, Ellie flipped the pages until she located the verse. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me.”
The agony of Esther’s loss seemed to vibrate from the page. With her own heart still fragile from the pain of her father’s death, Ellie was keenly aware of this young mother’s anguish over the loss of her son. Unable to read more, she closed the Bible and put it aside.
As she did, a single piece of cloth slipped from between the pages and drifted onto the coffee table. Ellie reached for it and frowned. The muslin square had yellowed with age; each side was no bigger than six inches. In the middle of the block was an embroidered bug that resembled a giant grasshopper. The detail was exquisite, each infinitesimally small stitch perfectly positioned. Nevertheless, it was an odd thing to place inside a Bible. What could possibly have been important enough about an embroidered grasshopper to save it all these years, tucked between the pages of a family Bible? But these were questions for another time, another day.
Her stomach growled and, glancing at her watch, Ellie realized it’d been almost six hours since she’d last eaten. She carried the Bible into her bedroom and placed it on her dresser top, then rummaged around her kitchen until she found the ingredients for a tuna salad.
An hour later a half-eaten salad and an empty milk glass on the carpet beside her, Ellie happened upon the box of John Wayne videos. Her father had loved the Duke. In the worst days of his illness, it was the one thing that was sure to calm him. These movies were as much a part of his heritage as the family Bible. She placed them in the cabinet below her television and on impulse inserted one into the VCR.
McLintock! with Maureen O’Hara was one of Ellie’s favorites. Soon she found herself involved in the movie, the boxes forgotten. She didn’t have to unpack every box that night, she decided.
With the lights dimmed she sat cross-legged on the sofa, watching the television screen. This particular John Wayne classic had been a favorite of her father’s as well. Only a few months earlier, he’d suggested that when Ellie decided to look for a husband, she wouldn’t go wrong if she found a man like the kind John Wayne usually portrayed.
Where the tears came from, Ellie didn’t know. One moment she was laughing at the very place she laughed every time she saw the movie, and the next her cheeks were wet with tears.
Chastising herself for being too sentimental, she dried her eyes with a napkin. A minute later, the tears started again. Soon they flowed with such vigor she required a box of tissues.
It didn’t take Ellie long to realize that the movie had triggered the release she’d needed all these weeks. Stopping the flow of tears was impossible, so she gave up trying, sobbing openly now. With a tissue pressed to each eye, she sniffed, then paused, holding her breath, thinking she’d heard a noise unrelated to the movie.
The sound was repeated and Ellie groaned.
The doorbell.
She yearned to ignore it, but anyone who knew her would recognize her car parked out front.
With a reluctant sigh, she walked slowly toward the door. She glanced through the peephole, but whoever was there had moved out of her range of vision.
“Who’s there?” she demanded.
“The big bad wolf.”
Glen.
“Damn,” she muttered under her breath, frantically rubbing at the tears on her face. “Go away,” she called out. “I’m not decent.” Which wasn’t far from the truth. He was her friend and a good one but she didn’t want him or anyone else to see her like this.
“Come on, Ellie, open up.”
“Not by the hair of your chinny, chin, chin,” she called back.
“Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house down.”
She hesitated, unsure what to do.
“Ellie, for heaven’s sake, grab a towel or whatever and let me in.”
He twisted the knob and she realized he was going to enter with or without her permission. This was what she got for not keeping her front door locked, but it was a habit she’d never developed. No need to in a town like Promise.
“Come on in,” she said, finally opening the door.
“You’re dressed,” he said with some surprise. “I thought you said—” Apparently he noticed her tear-blotched face, because he stopped short.
She squared her shoulders, not knowing what he’d do or say. They’d laughed together, disagreed, teased and joked, but she’d never allowed Glen or anyone else to see her cry.
His hand rested gently on her shoulder. “I thought as much,” he whispered.
It would have been better if he’d made a joke of it, Ellie mused. She might have been able to laugh off her embarrassment if he had.
“It’s the movie,” she said, pointing to the television set behind her. “I…started watching it and…” To her utter humiliation, the tears came back in force.
“Ellie?”
She turned her back to him. “I’m not fit company just now,” she managed.
“Do you want me to leave?” he asked from behind.
Did she? Ellie didn’t know. Wrapping her arms around her middle, she couldn’t remember a time she’d felt more alone. Her beloved father was gone and her mother had all but abandoned her. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Her father had been everything to her.
“Ellie?” Glen questioned again.
“You’d better go.”
A long moment passed. Anyone else would have left by now, but Glen hesitated, as though he couldn’t make himself do it. That was when Ellie knew she wanted him to stay.
“Would…would you mind sticking around for a while?” she choked out.
“Of course.” With his arm loosely about her shoulders, he steered her back to the sofa. “Sit here and I’ll get you something to drink.”
She nodded, grateful once again that Glen Patterson was her friend. A good stiff drink was exactly what she needed. Something strong enough to dull the pain.
Within a couple of minutes Glen returned with a tall glass. Ice clinked against the sides when he handed it to her.
She appreciated his tact and understanding and accepted the glass. Tentatively tasting the drink, she tried to remember what she had stored in the liquor cabinet above the refrigerator. Vodka? Gin?
Almost immediately she started to cough and choke.
Glen slapped her hard on the back.
She needed a moment to catch her breath. When she did she glared at him with narrowed eyes. “You brought me ice water?” she cried. The man had no sense of what she was suffering. None whatsoever, or he’d realize that a time like this required liquor.
“What’s wrong with water?” he asked with a look of such genuine innocence that Ellie knew it would do no good to explain.
She dismissed his question with a wave of her hand and gestured for him to sit down.
Glen claimed the empty space next to her on the sofa. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.
“No,” she said, and for emphasis shook her head. “Just watch the movie.”
“All right.” He leaned back and stretched his arms along the back of the couch. With one foot resting on the other knee, he seemed perfectly at ease.
Ellie did her best to focus on the movie, but it was pointless. So was any attempt to hold back the tears that pooled in her eyes, then leaked from the corners, making wet tracks down the sides of her face. At first she tried to blink them away. That didn’t help. Neither did holding her breath or staring up at the ceiling. She drank the glass of water and, when she could disguise the need no longer, made a frantic grab for the box of tissue.
“I thought as much,” Glen said for the second time. He placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him. “It isn’t the movie, is it?”
“What makes you ask that?” she sobbed.
“Because I know you.”
Men always assumed they knew a woman when they didn’t have a clue. And Glen Patterson was as clueless as any man she’d ever known, friend or not.
“As I said earlier, I’m not very good company at the moment.” She blotted her eyes with a fresh tissue. In an effort to distract her thoughts, she showed him the old Bible with the names of family who’d lived and died over a hundred years ago. When she talked about Edward Abraham’s death, the tears began again.
“Hey, if I’d been looking for scintillating company, I would’ve stayed home with Cal,” Glen said, then laughed at his little joke.
They both knew Cal was about as much fun as a rampaging bull these days.
“Come on,” he urged with real tenderness. “Let it all out.”
She swallowed a sob. It would have been better, she thought now, if he hadn’t stayed, after all. But it felt good to lean on someone. So good. Ellie feared that once she lowered her guard and gave way to her emotions, it would be like a river overflowing its banks. All semblance of control would vanish. As close a friend as Glen was, she preferred to shed her tears alone.
“Relax,” he instructed, sounding like the older brother she’d never had. He squeezed her shoulder and rested his chin against her hair. “It’s okay to cry. You have the right.”
“I couldn’t make myself believe it,” she sobbed into his chest. The doctors had explained soon after he was diagnosed that his condition was terminal. No hope.
“Believe what?” Glen asked softly.
“That he was dying. I should have been prepared for it, but I wasn’t.”
“He was your father, Ellie. How could you prepare to lose your father? How could anyone?”
“I—I don’t know.” Her whole body shook; she couldn’t control the tremors.
“Quit being so hard on yourself, okay?”
“I wanted to celebrate his life,” she added. “Not…not act like this.” She felt as though she were walking around with a giant hole inside her. Grief overwhelmed her. She missed him in a thousand different ways. Every minute, every hour, she found reasons to think of him. Everything she said and did reminded her of how close they’d always been. She couldn’t walk into the store without confronting evidence of him—his work, his personality, his plans for the future. If that wasn’t bad enough, every time she looked in the mirror it was his deep blue eyes that stared back.
“You are celebrating his life,” Glen murmured, and his lips brushed the top of her head.
“I am?” Easing herself from his embrace, she raised her face to look up at him.
“You were the apple of your father’s eye,” Glen reminded her. “He couldn’t keep the buttons of his shirt fastened, he was so proud of you.”
While Ellie knew that was true, it felt good to hear Glen say it. “He was a wonderful father.” She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling.
“The best.” Glen gazed down at her and with his thumb caught a tear as it rolled from her bottom lashes and onto her cheek.
He paused with his finger halfway across her face and when her vision cleared, Ellie noted Glen’s look of surprise. Their eyes met, widened. They couldn’t seem to stop gazing at each other’s faces. Ellie suddenly felt herself frowning, but before she had a chance to analyze what was happening, she realized something else.
Glen was going to kiss her.
She could have moved, avoided his kiss and the embarrassment that was sure to follow, but curiosity got the better of her. As his mouth slowly lowered toward hers, her eyes drifted shut. She half expected him to draw back at the last second, but he didn’t—and she was glad.
His lips were moist and warm as they settled gently on hers. The gentleness lasted only a moment, and then he thrust his fingers into her short hair and increased the pressure of his mouth. Ellie felt the heat in him, the unaccustomed desire. And she felt his tension. She understood it, because she was feeling the same thing. A sense of discomfort, even guilt. This was Glen, her friend. And they were kissing like lovers, like a couple well beyond the range of friendship.
Ellie slipped her hands up his chest and anchored her fingers at his shoulders. The kiss took on another dimension. The hunger that had been held in check was replaced by heady excitement. Ellie opened to Glen without restraint, reserving nothing. He deepened the kiss until they both trembled. When he abruptly broke it off, his breathing was heavy and labored. So was hers.
Slowly Ellie opened her eyes. Glen was staring at her, his forehead creased in a deep frown.
“What was that?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“A kiss,” he said, sounding almost angry.
“I know that. What I’m asking is…why?”
“Why?” he repeated, sounding as uncertain as she was. “Because…because you were crying.”
“So?”
“It was shock therapy,” he said, easing himself away from her, gently at first and then as if he couldn’t move fast enough. He scooted unceremoniously to the side of the sofa.
Not knowing what to think, much less say, she blinked.
“It worked,” he said, as if this entire incident had been carefully planned. “You’re not crying, are you?”
Ellie raised her fingertips to her face. He was right.
“I had to do something,” he said, sounding more like himself now—confident, amused, down-to-earth.
“Something,” she repeated, trying not to press her fingers against her slightly swollen lips.
“Anything,” he added. “I was getting desperate. You feel better, don’t you?”
She had to consider that for a moment. But it was true.
“Hey, I didn’t mean…” He hesitated as if not sure how to continue.
Ellie wasn’t sure she wanted him to. “Me neither,” she told him quickly, far more comfortable dropping the matter than exploring it further. Glen was a damn good friend and she didn’t want one stupid kiss to ruin this friendship.
He relaxed visibly. “Good.”
She smiled and nodded. “I gotta admit, though,” she said, eagerly falling back on the comfortable banter they’d always enjoyed. “You’re one fine kisser.”
“Damn fine,” he agreed, and puffed out his chest in a parody of male pride. “You aren’t the first one to tell me that.”
Ellie rolled her eyes toward the ceiling.
“You aren’t so bad yourself.”
“Don’t I know it.” Standing, she hooked her thumbs in the belt loops of her jeans and rocked on her heels. “Plenty of other guys have told me I’m hot stuff.”
“I can see why.”
They laughed then, both of them, but Ellie noticed that their laughter had a decidedly shaky sound to it.
***
“Shaky” pretty well described how Glen felt. An hour later he pulled into the long driveway that led from the highway to the Lonesome Coyote Ranch. He trembled every time he thought about kissing Ellie.
Fool that he was, he’d given in to a crazy impulse and damn near made the biggest mistake of his life.
Glen blamed Cal for this. His brother was the one who’d planted the idea, claiming Glen’s relationship with Ellie was far more than friendship. Cal had just said it a few too many times and hell—Glen shook his head—one minute he was looking down at Ellie and the next thing he knew they were kissing. What scared the living daylights out of him was how incredibly good the kiss had been. It wasn’t supposed to be that good, but it had shot straight off the Richter scale.
Oh, yeah, Ellie had shaken him up plenty.
Thank goodness he’d been able to make light of the incident, brush it off. Ellie had seemed just as eager to put it behind them. For the first time in years he’d been uncomfortable with his best friend. With Ellie. All because of an impulsive kiss, something that never should’ve happened.
He parked the truck and sat in the stillness of the night to gather his wits about him. He recalled how the kiss had ended and she’d looked up at him, her striking blue eyes wide with shock. Damn if it hadn’t taken every ounce of willpower he possessed not to kiss her again.
Thank God he hadn’t. Gratitude welled up inside him. Had they continued much longer they would’ve ruined everything. Knowing he was being less than subtle about it, he’d gotten the hell out of that house. Again Ellie had obviously felt relieved to be rid of him. With any luck they’d both forget the entire incident. For his part he never intended to mention it again, and he sincerely hoped Ellie didn’t, either.
Once he felt sufficiently calm, he climbed out of the truck and walked into the house. Cal sat in the kitchen with ledgers spread out across the table. He glanced up when Glen entered the room and did a double take.
“You okay?”
“Why shouldn’t I be?” Glen demanded sharply.
“No need to bite my head off,” his brother snapped back. “What happened? You have a spat with Ellie?”
“No.”
“I see,” Cal returned, not bothering to suppress a smile.
“I’m going to bed,” Glen announced.
“Good idea,” Cal called after him. “Sleep might improve your disposition.”
Glen stomped up the stairs and was breathless by the time he entered his bedroom. He closed the door and sagged onto the edge of the mattress. With his elbows resting on his knees, he inhaled deeply several times. No wonder he was shaking. He’d had a narrow escape.
***
The night was alive with sound. The intoxicating aroma of old roses filled the air. Katydids chirped and the porch swing creaked as Savannah and Laredo swayed back and forth, back and forth. The stars were generous with their glittering bounty that night. It all said romance, the romance of song and story, and it suited Savannah’s mood perfectly.
She leaned her head against Laredo’s shoulder and his arm held her close. Even now, resting in her husband’s strong embrace, she found it difficult to believe this wonderful man loved her.
“What’s on your mind?” he whispered.
Savannah’s lips eased into a ready smile. “I was just thinking how fortunate I am that you love me.”
Laredo went still, and she knew his thoughts; he didn’t need to voice them. It was that way sometimes when people were deeply in love. Their marriage was like a miracle, an unexpected gift—and it had come when they were least prepared for it. Because of that, they’d come close to losing it all.
“I loved you when I left you,” Laredo said, his voice hoarse with the intensity of his feelings. “I worry sometimes that you don’t know how difficult it was to walk away from you.”
“I did know, and that’s what made it so hard,” she confided. She would never fully comprehend it, but Laredo had believed that she deserved someone who could give her more than he could. It was one of life’s cruel ironies—without him, money, land and possessions meant very little. But with his love she was rich beyond measure. It was the most precious thing she’d ever had.
The kitchen door creaked open and Savannah’s older brother stepped onto the porch. She wasn’t too pleased with Grady’s poor timing, but decided to overlook it. Not for the first time, either. Look what he’d done just the other day, when he’d made those comments about Caroline at the worst possible moment.
Grady walked to the porch steps and stared into the night sky. “I decided to attend the birthday bash for Ruth,” he said without glancing in their direction.
Savannah heard the reluctance in his voice and realized the decision hadn’t been an easy one.
“With Caroline?” she asked, trying not to sound eager.
He hesitated before answering. “I thought about asking her, then decided against it.”
Savannah knew that if he let himself Grady would enjoy Caroline’s company. Unfortunately he bungled all her efforts at playing matchmaker. What she’d hoped was that he’d become comfortable enough with Caroline at the birthday party to invite her to the Cattlemen’s Association dance later in the month. The dance marked the beginning of summer and was the most anticipated event of the year.
“Why don’t you ask Caroline?” She was losing patience with him.
“Because I didn’t think she’d want to after the way… Hell, you should know the answer to that. I made a fool of myself.”
“Caroline was more amused than angry,” Savannah assured her brother.
“Yeah, well, that’s not how I saw it. I thought I’d invite someone else.”
“Like who?”
“I don’t know…”
“How about the new doctor?” Savannah suggested. Dr. Jane Dickinson had replaced Doc Cummings at the Health Clinic when he retired. She’d read in the local newspaper that Dr. Dickinson had agreed to stay on for three years as a means of repaying her medical-school loans. If Grady wasn’t going to ask Caroline, then this new doctor was a good choice.
“No, thanks.”
“What’s wrong with her?”
“Nothing…everything.” Grady didn’t elaborate.
The problem with her brother, Savannah realized, was a complete lack of confidence in himself when it came to women. Grady failed to recognize his own masculine appeal. His considerable appeal. She suspected that Richard’s presence made it worse. Richard was handsome and sociable, a smooth talker who had no difficulty attracting female companionship. Grady, on the other hand, was awkward around women and constantly seemed to say the wrong thing.
Savannah edged closer to her husband. “Um, Grady, I don’t think it’s a good idea to wait until the last minute.”
“You don’t?”
Both Savannah and Laredo shook their heads.
Grady rubbed the back of his neck. “The hell with it,” he muttered. “Nell didn’t say anything about bringing a date. If Cal shows up you can bet he’ll be without a woman. Nothing says I need one, either.”
Savannah resisted the urge to box his ears. “Do you intend to live the rest of your life alone, Grady?”
Her brother didn’t answer her for a moment. “I don’t know anymore. It just seems to be the way things are headed.” With that, he went back inside.
“I almost feel sorry for him,” Laredo said.
“It’s his own fault.” Savannah didn’t mean to sound unkind, but her brother was too stubborn for his own good. “If he’d open his eyes, he’d realize Caroline’s perfect for him.”
“You can’t push him into a relationship with your friend, love.”
Savannah realized that. “But…”
“It’ll happen for Grady when the time is right.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“It did with us.”
Sighing, Savannah dropped her head against his shoulder once again. This was her favorite time of day, sitting in the moonlight with Laredo, feeling his love enclose her.
They kissed then, and the sweetness of it was enough to bring tears to Savannah’s eyes. She savored the contentment of being in his arms, wishing everyone could experience this kind of love. Grady and the embittered Cal Patterson and Caroline and…
“Ellie Frasier needs someone, too,” she said wistfully.
“Are you the resident matchmaker now?” Laredo teased.
“Yes—even if it is self-appointed.” She nudged him with her elbow. “Now—a man for Ellie.”
“Not Richard.”
“Not Richard,” Savannah agreed. “Glen Patterson.”
Laredo laughed lightly. “You’re way off base with that one, Savannah. I can’t see it. They make much better friends than they ever would lovers.”
The evening was much too fine to argue. She didn’t need Laredo to agree with her to know she was right.