CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The first thing Val did once she’d unpacked her suitcase was reach for a pad of paper and write a long newsy letter to Richard Weston. He wouldn’t receive it until next week since mail going into the prison was inspected first.
Val was more than a little attracted to him. They’d met when she’d been assigned as his defense attorney, a task she’d dreaded until she’d actually gotten to know Richard. He’d been charged with a number of crimes—smuggling illegal aliens, fraud and extortion among them. Richard was no innocent, but in Val’s opinion he wasn’t as bad as those charges suggested. The worst of his crimes—again, in her opinion—was that he’d been gullible. He claimed that he’d believed the men he’d worked with. They’d purported to be helping the illegal aliens find jobs and decent housing. Richard said he’d been unaware of what was really going on. Val wasn’t naive; she didn’t buy his whole story. Nevertheless, she liked him. Liked him far more than she should—but then, she’d always enjoyed a man with a dangerous edge. Bad boys like Richard Weston had always tempted her. Interesting that the men she’d married weren’t that type at all.
Richard had written her after he was sentenced. In the beginning she’d ignored his letters, but his persistence had captured her attention. Almost against her will, and after maybe the fifth letter, she’d started answering him. It had begun as a game, a flirtation of sorts—and then she’d taken the next step. She’d set up a visit on the pretense of legal business. For all his faults, one quality Richard certainly didn’t lack was charm. The things he said and wrote to her were enough to make her knees grow weak. She knew better, yet she still couldn’t help herself.
Her marriage, which had been on the rocks for some time, was ending, and it felt good to be flattered, desired. He had a manner she found compelling, almost irresistible. Val didn’t believe all of Richard’s compliments, but she didn’t care if he was sincere or not; she needed to hear them.
Naturally his undying devotion came with a price tag. Richard needed something from her, too. Her legal expertise.
The simple truth was that she’d fallen for Richard. During the months she’d been working on his appeal, she’d come to look forward to their brief visits.
In fact, her motives for traveling to Promise were all linked to helping Richard. He needed his family, and Val was here to make sure that his brother and sister would stand by him. She wanted to get a read on his family, figure out how much they’d be willing to help—with financial, as well as moral, support—when he came before the parole board. Richard was afraid the citizens of Promise might be tempted to take revenge on him. He seemed obsessed with Bitter End, too, although she couldn’t quite understand why. He said he couldn’t tolerate the idea of the ghost town being turned into a tourist trap, its historic value ruined. From his frequent descriptions of the place, Val had formed a mental picture of it.
Richard had spent a lot of time in Bitter End when he’d hidden out there, and he yearned to protect its integrity. It was this side of him, the one that others rarely saw, that Val had learned to treasure.
A knock on the door caught her unawares. She shoved the writing tablet beneath her pillow. “Come in,” she called.
Travis opened the door and stuck his head inside. “Dinner will be on the table in fifteen minutes.”
“Already?” Val glanced at her watch.
“I told you earlier that we eat at six.”
Unable to resist, she thrust out her tongue in a childish display of temper. Travis had certainly proved to be a disappointment. He’d barely been cordial. From the moment she’d told him she’d be visiting Promise, he’d made it clear he’d rather she stayed in New York. His aversion to her company only confirmed what she’d always believed. He’d never gotten over their divorce, and although remarried, Val suspected he’d never stopped loving her. She was sorry he’d been hurt, but better opportunities had awaited her. Now those opportunities had faded and she was on her own again. Through it all, Val had been confident that Travis would always love her. She still thought so, even though he obviously didn’t plan to act on his feelings. Maybe that was to punish her or—giving him some credit—to avoid hurting the second Mrs. Grant.
“I’ll be right in,” she said, refusing to let his lack of welcome dissuade her.
“Fine.” He turned to leave.
“Travis.” She leaped up and hurried after him. “I have some questions I was hoping you could answer.”
“About what?”
He didn’t slow his pace, and Val was forced to trot to keep up. This wouldn’t be a problem for his new wife, she told herself. The little woman wasn’t so little. Val had nearly laughed out loud at her first glimpse of his precious Nell. Six feet if she was an inch, with braids only Annie Oakley would envy.
“You don’t want me here, do you?” she said, pouting ever so slightly.
“No.” His answer was direct and brutal.
“Why not?”
He stopped walking and grabbed her by the arm. “You’re after something.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Val jerked her arm out of his grasp. She’d always resented the way he could see through her. “I haven’t talked to you in ages—except when I phoned you about this trip.”
His lips curled as if her words repulsed him. “We have nothing to talk about. And I still don’t know why you came here.”
“I’m curious about Promise.”
“Why?”
She frowned. She didn’t like having her motives questioned.
“What’s come over you?” Val asked. “You never used to be like this.”
“I don’t want you here.”
“So you’ve said.” She crossed her arms and inhaled deeply, refusing to show him how much his words had wounded her. “Are you afraid, Travis?”
“Afraid of what?”
“Seeing me again, being near me. You used to love me, remember?”
“You’ve got that part right,” he said without emotion. “I used to love you. Past tense. I don’t any longer. I have a wife who knows the meaning of the word love. A wife who puts her family first, not her own self-centered desires.”
“Are you telling me I don’t know what love is?” Despite the years they’d been married, the man didn’t have a clue about her. This entire trip was on behalf of someone else, but she couldn’t very well tell Travis that. Despite the years they’d been married, he didn’t know her, didn’t appreciate her, not like Richard did.
“The only person you think about is yourself.”
She lifted her chin at his insults, her pride rescuing her. “You’ve changed. I barely know you anymore.”
“I have changed, thank God,” he agreed. “Thanks to Nell and the people in Promise.”
“I’d like to meet some of those people.”
“Such as?”
She shrugged, unwilling to show her hand. “The people you mentioned when you first came out here.”
“Such as?” he asked again.
“The Westons,” she said casually. “Dolly, too.”
“Dovie,” he corrected, studying her, his eyes hard.
“Dovie,” she repeated. “That’s such an old-fashioned name.” From what she’d seen of the hill country, the entire area could define quaint. Sheets drying on a clothesline, homemade bread, flowers in a jar. And eating dinner at six! They probably went to sleep at eight—and got up at five. Boring, boring, boring. Val suspected there wasn’t a single pizza franchise that would deliver to this dude ranch. If Nell was typical of Texas women, the entire state was populated with Amazons. Too bad they weren’t around when poor old Davy Crockett was defending the Alamo.
“Does your sudden interest in Promise have anything to do with Richard Weston?” Travis demanded. “Tell me you aren’t crazy enough to get mixed up with the likes of him.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, playing dumb.
“You know darn good and well what I mean. Be warned—Richard is a user, and if he’s had anything to do with your visit, you’d be wise to leave now.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!”
“As I recall, you were pretty intrigued with him three years ago. I thought that was all in the past, but…”
“He’s an interesting person.”
Travis’s frown darkened. “This is about Richard, isn’t it?”
“Indirectly,” she admitted, knowing he wouldn’t believe her otherwise. Val couldn’t afford to have Travis guess the truth—not yet, anyway. He’d become such great pals with all the people in Promise, people who hated Richard. So he wouldn’t be pleased to hear that she was preparing an appeal. “He was full of talk about Bitter End. He went on and on about that ghost town. Remember how fascinating he made it all sound? You were intrigued enough to come here yourself.” The ghost town was a good distraction. Val knew Travis couldn’t argue, seeing that Richard’s stories had prompted his own first visit to the Texas hill country.
“So?”
“So, as you know, my marriage fell apart, and well, I don’t know…. I guess in my own way, I’m looking for the kind of happiness you found. This seemed like a place to start.”
She could tell he thought she was lying. But the back door opened then, and Nell stepped outside. She paused when she saw Val and Travis.
“Hello, Nell.” Val waved, making sure her smile was wide and generous. “I understand dinner’s about ready.”
“It’s on the table now.”
“Is there something I can do to help?” she asked, hurrying toward the other woman. She was willing to do anything that would take her away from this uncomfortable conversation with Travis.
* * *
As Jeannie went to the grocery to do her weekly shopping the following Saturday, everyone in town was talking about Cal and Dr. Jane’s baby boy. She’d already heard the news from three different people, and while she’d enjoyed her conversations with Martie Caldwell, as well as Dovie and Caroline, there was one person she was waiting to hear from. But Adam hadn’t called.
The sheriff certainly kept her on her toes wondering and worrying. She hesitated to call him herself, a rather old-fashioned idea in this day and age, but after the way he’d spurned her, then kissed her and now ignored her, she needed reassurance. With school out, she was doing volunteer work at the county nursing home, helping the residents record their family histories. She was especially struck by their stories of courting and marriage—and heartened by the fact that some of these women had taken romantic matters into their own hands.
The message light on her answering machine was flashing when she returned. She set her grocery bags and mail on the kitchen counter and pushed the button. At the sound of Adam’s voice, she experienced a rush of excitement and relief.
“Hello, Jeannie, it’s Adam Jordan,” he said rather formally. “I’m calling about Sunday afternoon—tomorrow—and was wondering if you’d be interested in having dinner with me—say six-thirty. I’m on duty until six. If you’d give me a call here at the office, I’d appreciate it.”
For about two seconds, she considered making him wait for an answer—but she found herself incapable of suppressing her own eagerness to talk to him. Adam picked up his phone on the first ring.
“Sheriff’s office.” The dispatcher must have been on a break.
“It’s Jeannie. I got your message.”
“Does dinner work for you?” he asked in the same businesslike voice he’d used on the answering machine.
“Dinner would be wonderful.”
“The Chili Pepper?”
“That’d be great.”
The best restaurant in town, no less. She was suddenly feeling much better about everything. “Um, why’d you wait so long to call?” She probably shouldn’t ask. Her mother had always warned her not to ask a question if she wasn’t going to like the answer.
Adam hesitated. “Did it bother you that I didn’t phone?” he asked.
“Answer my question and I’ll answer yours.” She felt the tension building. She liked Adam and needed to know if this relationship had a future.
“I didn’t think it was a good idea to call you too soon,” he said at last.
“Why not?”
Again he hesitated. “Because I like you too damn much,” he snapped, as if he resented being forced to admit it.
“But, Adam, I like you, too. I thought you knew how I felt. After we kissed and all…”
* * *
Once Annie and Lucas had made love, Annie wondered why they’d waited so long. She soon discovered that Lucas had a vigorous appetite for lovemaking. He seemed almost apologetic for wanting her as often as he did, although she had no objection.
“I never thought it’d be this good,” Lucas told her late one night. Content, Annie lay in his arms. The room’s only light came from the moon, a cool and silvery glow that crept between a small crack in the curtains.
“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or an insult,” Annie said, smiling softly.
“I meant it as a compliment.”
“I know.” She lifted her head enough to kiss his throat.
He paused, then added in a low voice, “Julia was sick for months before she died and we couldn’t…” He let the rest fade.
Lucas so rarely mentioned his first wife that Annie wondered if his doing so now was significant. Since their marriage, she’d mentioned Billy only once. They were coming to trust each other, slowly exposing the most painful parts of their pasts, yet yearning to move forward.
“Until you and I got married, I’d assumed all of that was over for me,” he continued. “Making love, being with a woman like this…”
Annie pressed the side of her face against his shoulder and wrapped her arm around his middle. “I, for one, am most appreciative that it isn’t.” She felt his smile and knew her words had pleased him. He rubbed her back in long gentle strokes.
“I wasn’t sure what to expect, you know.”
“Me, neither.”
“It’d been years.”
“For me, too,” she reminded him. The car accident and subsequent surgeries had made lovemaking impossible for her. By the time she was physically capable, her husband had found someone else and wanted to end the marriage. It used to be that Annie couldn’t think of Billy without feeling pain. Recently all she’d experienced was sadness. Not for her, amazingly, but for him. He was looking for the perfect wife, the perfect job, the perfect everything—an attitude that meant he was destined to be disappointed.
For herself, Annie felt blessed beyond measure. This marriage had been a precious and unexpected gift, for which she would always be grateful. The pregnancy she so desperately wanted would happen in time, but she didn’t think it would be soon. Not with all the medical problems she’d had, all the different medications she’d taken. She drew comfort from knowing that one day she would bear Lucas’s child. Then something occurred to her, something she hadn’t considered.
“Lucas…after I’m pregnant, will you…will we continue to make love?”
His hand stilled as if this thought was new to him, too. “Would you mind if we did?”
“No, of course not. I’d like to.”
The tension left him, and Annie felt it ease from her own limbs. Their lovemaking was wonderful and she would have missed it dreadfully had he decided otherwise, but their time in bed was only a small part of their marriage. The physical intimacy paled next to the emotional intimacy she shared with him. This was all part of the gift she’d been given, part of life’s compensation for all she’d endured. Sometimes it almost felt as if this joy, this contentment, was more than one person could possibly deserve.
The room darkened, and with her head on her husband’s shoulder, Annie closed her eyes and let herself drift off to sleep. Sometime later, a loud crash of thunder startled her into wakefulness, and she heard rain pounding against the window.
“Daddy!” Hollie’s cry echoed down the hallway.
Lucas moved his arm and was about to toss aside the blankets when Annie sat up. Storms had frightened her as a child, too. She’d always felt certain that other little girls didn’t need to be afraid because they had mothers. Her father had told her she was being childish—but she was a child. He’d forbidden her to disturb his sleep, so many a night she’d hugged her arms about her and let her pillow absorb her cries.
“Daddy? Annie?” Heather and Hollie stood framed in the doorway.
“Come here, both of you,” Annie said, throwing back the covers, inviting them to join her and Lucas.
Not waiting for their father to second the invitation, the two little girls raced across the carpet and bounced onto the bed, looking for the same comfort Annie had sought all those years ago.
“I was so scared,” Hollie whispered, rubbing her cold feet against Annie’s legs as she slid in beside her.
“I wasn’t,” Heather said, crawling from the bottom of the bed to the middle.
“You were, too,” Hollie countered.
Lucas yawned loudly. “If you’re sleeping in here, you’d better both be quiet.”
One warning was all they needed. The storm continued to rage.
“Daddy, tell the storm to be quiet,” Hollie said.
“Quiet out there.”
Both girls giggled as if he’d said something outrageously funny. Annie laughed, too.
“Hey, quit with the noise,” Lucas told them. “Annie and I have to go to work in the morning, and you girls have day camp.”
“Yes, Daddy,” Hollie said and it wasn’t long before both sisters had fallen asleep. Her heart full, Annie stretched her arm protectively over their small bodies. Soon Lucas’s fingers connected with hers.
“You awake?” he asked in a hushed whisper that was more breath than sound.
“Barely.”
His hand covered hers completely now. “Thank you,” he said in the same low tone.
“For what?”
“For this,” he answered. “For making my girls feel safe and happy.” He paused. “For everything.”
Annie didn’t bother to tell him that she was the one who should be giving thanks.