A Little Texas (8 page)

“The hell it doesn’t.” Rick walked to the window. Vera stood among the dead plantings, staring at the marble angel in the center of the circular garden. He could see her lips moving in silent prayer. “She’s still hurting over Ryan. And bringing Kate—”

“Why do you care?” Justus’s words were tinged with anger. “Vera’s not your concern. She’s mine. It’s been three years. It’s time she stopped wandering around this ranch like some shadow of a woman. She’s like a Dickens character. All she needs is a moldering bridal gown and an old wedding cake. It’s absurd.”

Rick didn’t know Dickens. He’d dropped out of school before the tenth grade, but he knew what Justus meant. Vera had spent long enough mourning, but Rick couldn’t abandon the woman who’d first accepted him as something other than a thug. Besides he owed it to Ryan to look out for Vera.

“You’re throwing Kate in her face.”

“The hell I am.” Justus used his good hand to slam a thick book of Irish folklore upon the desk. It caused the picture of a smiling Ryan clad in his graduation gown to fall forward. “I didn’t go looking for Kate. She found me. For reprehensible purposes, true, but I’ve prayed for months for God to send me something, some answer, some way to bring us all back among the living. I think He sent me Kate.”

Rick grew still. He’d never thought about the feisty Kate being someone destined to come to Cottonwood. And he certainly hadn’t seen her as someone who could breathe life into a house that had folded into itself with grief. But maybe Justus was right.

Maybe Kate had a bigger purpose.

“Okay, I get what you’re saying, but you have to promise to tread lightly.” He walked toward the door.

“I don’t have to promise you a thing,” Justus said, staring at the fallen picture frame.

Rick paused with his hand on the knob. “That may be, but this time, I’m not going to allow you to pull all the strings. There are too many people with a stake in this for you to bulldoze over as if they were small saplings.”

Justus’s laugh was sharp. Biting. “Do you honestly think I’d let you scare me away from a girl who is my own flesh and blood?”

Rick knew Kate was Justus’s daughter, but he used the old man’s argument against him. “You said you didn’t know if she were really your daughter.”

“The girl’s mine. I’ve known it for thirty years.”

Rick flinched. The admission made his stomach turn. “Then why the hell didn’t you acknowledge her?”

Justus’s eyes met his. They were as frigid as an Alaskan lake. The way they’d been before Ryan died, before the stroke. The old Justus lurked inside the shell somewhere. “I’ve never had cause to.”

“But now you do?”

“I do.”

Anger welled in Rick. This man did what he did for his own selfish purposes. He did not have Kate’s best interests in mind. But Rick would look out for her. Justus Mitchell mowed over many people, but Enrique Mendez was no damned sapling.

He masked his annoyance, nodded and left the room. There was nothing more to say.

He found Kate standing outside the office door, staring at an original Remington bronze of a Cherokee warrior. The piece was poised between two of the artist’s original sketches. Justus loved the art of the Old West.

“Is that a real Remington?” Kate asked.

“I think so.”

“My friend Billie would love to see it. She’s a glass artist, but has a thing for cowboys and Indians.” Kate’s words sounded detached. She was trying to distance herself from her emotions. He understood.

“You ready to go?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t remember how to get around this mausoleum, so I waited on you.” Finally, her eyes met his. They were no longer distant. They were determined. “So let’s go. I got myself into this, and there’s only one direction I can head now.”

Rick moved down the hallway toward the staircase, but then stopped. “You don’t have to agree to his terms, Kate. I can get you a ticket back to Vegas. You can go home and forget about everything. It might be for the best.”

He didn’t want her to go, and that surprised him. But in her interest, she should head for Vegas.

She stopped in the middle of the hall. “You think he’ll let me do that? I poked the hornets’ nest, Rick. He’s not going to let me slink away with my tail tucked. Plus, I don’t work that way. He wants me around? Fine. I’ll be around. But he can’t control me. No one can. I play by my own rules, so that man back there may regret the hell out of wanting me here.”

He couldn’t help it. He smiled.

“What?” she asked.

He loved her eyes, which was weird, because they looked so much like Ryan’s and Justus’s. But they were different. He could get lost in hers. Sometimes he hated the romance in his soul. Lost in a woman’s eyes? What a bunch of crap. “Nothing. I just…nothing.”

She cocked her head, making her look like an inquisitive little mouse. But she didn’t push it. She spread her small hands apart, palms up. “Okay, then. Let’s go.”

He led her down the stairs and out of the house, pausing only to shout a farewell to his grandmother who sat in front of the TV, immersed in a Mexican soap opera. Vera was nowhere in sight. He was glad. Justus needed to tell his wife about Kate coming to stay.

He stepped out into the blustery day, swamped with the need for separation from the Mitchells. He needed to cut the string that bound him to Justus. He watched Kate cross the drive and knew she’d taken hold of one of those invisible threads and pulled him in even closer.

And he’d gone willingly.

“Roll up the window,” Rick said as he turned onto the county highway that would take them toward Phoenix and eventually Longview.

“No, it feels good. Kinda cleansing.” She stared at the barren landscape, watching cows munching on clumps of clover that dotted the pastures. “Thanks for coming back.”

Such simple words of gratitude were hard for her. She didn’t like accepting the kindness of others, especially virtual strangers. But he deserved that much. He’d stood beside her as she faced her father for the first time in years, and he hadn’t been obliged to do so. In fact, he shouldn’t have. He’d picked the wrong side, considering his history with her father. But having him there had softened the trap that had closed around her.

Justus. She didn’t miss the irony in his given name. He was a man who meted his own brand of justice. Was being trapped with him for two weeks fair? Was this nature’s joke on her for waking the monster of her past?

She sighed. Rick glanced at her before focusing on the highway. He left her alone with her thoughts.

Facing her father had been more difficult than she’d thought it would be. Seeing the man crippled, a shell of his former self, had been tough, had made her feel quite small for the act she was perpetuating against him. Like she was a bad person.

Then he’d turned the tables. Made her boiling mad. And she hadn’t felt so very sorry for him after all. She’d felt absolutely warranted in demanding the money from him.

She pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers. The roller coaster of emotions she’d just climbed from had sucked the wind from her sails and the shadow of the migraine lingered.

Rick chuckled. “You know, I didn’t come back for you. I came back to protect the old man. You’re fierce.”

Kate allowed a smile to curve her lips. “I think he proved he didn’t need you after all. He’s got tricks in that bag of his that don’t disappear with a stroke or some spiritual transformation. You can’t change a leopard’s spots.”

“Yeah, but you can shoot the leopard and make a coat of him.”

Kate summoned a laugh. “I’ve always wanted a leopard coat. It would look fabulous with my new Manolos.”

“What are Manolos?”

And that made Kate laugh for real. “Shoes. But I’m kidding. I don’t wear animal skins.”

“Sure you do. You wear leather, don’t you?”

Kate rolled her eyes. “I guess I should have said I don’t wear furs harvested for the purpose of making women look haughty.”

Rick looked over at her. “I don’t wear furs, either.”

“No full-length pimp-daddy coats in your closet?”

“Not anymore.” His words sounded heavy, not teasingly light. Something dark tinged his words.

Change of subject needed. “So tell me about Phoenix. How did you come up with the idea for the place?”

The slight tension emanating from Rick vanished. “It’s something I’d been thinking about for a long time. Actually, the idea came from Ryan.”

“Ryan Mitchell?”

A new emotion touched Rick’s face. Kate thought it was tenderness. “Yeah, he…well, we were friends of a sort. I started working for Justus eight years ago, when Ryan was a freshman in high school. When I first came to Cottonwood, I worked as a gardener. Justus gave me a job as a favor to my grandmother.”

“Because of your past?” It seemed a touchy subject, but she asked it anyway.

“Si,”
he said, offering a smile, a mixed bag this time. Acceptance, regret, shame, pride—all rolled into one. “I think you’ve already guessed my past was something I’m not so proud of. I was in a gang, rolling with the Norteños, doing all sorts of things that still weigh on me when I have time to think. Phoenix is my penance, my salvation.”

His expression turned sheepish, as if the poetics of his words embarrassed him. “What I mean is that the center is my way to pay it forward. Give others the chance I was given. Oddly enough, your father gave me the ability to do that. The center is his tribute to Ryan.”

It explained a lot about why Rick had worked for Justus. Still, she sensed he had hidden issues with the man. It wasn’t apparent at first, but she suspected there was a mire of complicated feelings between the two. “So Justus pulled you out of a gang?”

“Not exactly pulled me out. I didn’t have much of a choice.” He propped his elbow on the open window and leaned back into his seat, settling into his story. “I was in my early twenties and got picked up for possession of stolen property. I made bail and waited on my guys to pick me up. Instead, Rosa waited outside. With Justus. She’d actually shooed the gang members off the steps of the city jail.”

Kate smiled at the thought of the diminutive Mexican grandmother taking a bunch of gang members to task.

“So I stepped out into the sunshine and she hit me with that look. I couldn’t duplicate it if I tried. It was so disappointed and angry looking. When I walked up to her, she said, ‘You’ve got one chance,
cholo
.’ I didn’t want to, but I climbed into Justus’s truck.”

His face seemed so worn. He’d seen and done things that had etched a mark on him.

“That was a pretty brave thing, walking away like that. I mean, it’s hard getting out of a gang. Isn’t it something like once in, always in?” Kate lightly touched his arm before withdrawing and tucking her hand into her lap. She had no right to touch him, even if her fingers itched to stroke the muscles beneath the cloth of his jacket. She’d seen the ink, peeking out of his T-shirt collar. Did it stretch across his chest? She wanted to know what lurked beneath.

“Yeah, it’s hard when you go it alone. But I wasn’t alone. Rosa had convinced Justus to give me a way out. He pulled some strings and got me probation for the third time. Still don’t know how he managed it, but if he hadn’t, I’d be lost. I came to Cottonwood, and it was far enough away to give me a chance.”

He paused for a moment, his mind obviously in the past. “So that’s what Phoenix is about. It’s about giving guys who want out of the life a way to get out. They come here, away from the streets, away from the temptation and the danger. That’s going to make the difference.”

“So by coming here, the gang can’t get to them?”

“Well, sort of. Many gangs are ambivalent about centers like Phoenix. They don’t like them, but some of the guys understand, like if they could give up the life, they would. I put the word out on the streets about the center at churches and community centers.”

“In Dallas?”

He laughed. “Yeah. Oak Stand isn’t exactly a hotbed of gang activity. Unless you count the Junior League. Those gals don’t mess around.”

“You’re preaching to the choir,” Kate mumbled.

“So, anyway, word is out there’s a place you can go if you want out, want to get your GED or get a job. It’s started some trouble. A few threatening messages, that kind of thing. But it’s going to work.”

“Hmm, so the gang leaders think Phoenix is going to steal their workers?”

Rick smiled. “Pretty much. They’re a business like any other. There are leaders—shot callers—then there are the guys who carry out the mission. Basic business structure. But their business is drugs, fencing, even prostitution.”

Rick turned the car onto a drive. Ahead she could see a massive structure built to look like a lodge. The building was made of stacked stone and cedar planks with a long, low porch covered with rockers along the front. Pulling up to Phoenix felt like arriving at an old home place.

“It’s fabulous,” she breathed. “I mean, seriously, warm and welcoming. Awesome.”

Rick took her hand and squeezed it. “Exactly what I was going for.”

The pride in his voice was so evident it made her heart swell. And his hand on hers took on new meaning, new intimacy, and she rubbed her lips together as if trying to remember his taste. He’d tasted good when she kissed him. She wanted to do it again.

He looked at her and she met his eyes. They were a mysterious brown, dark and weighty. His broad cheekbones stretched above a chiseled jaw. This man was all hard edges, masculine and clean lines. His skin looked like aged honey, like she could run her fingers over it and feel the power beneath.

She leaned toward him, unable to stop herself from inhaling his scent. His cologne was woodsy, musky and reminded her she hadn’t had sex in a long time.

He watched her, his lids lowered slightly. She could sense the hitch in his breath, feel the electricity uncork between them.

But suddenly he stiffened.

And pulled away.

“Let me show you the center and see what you think. You’ll be working here, after all.”

Kate blinked and watched him climb from the car. She felt a twinge of displeasure, as if he’d taken a toy from her and put it out of reach. She muttered a curse to the empty interior and climbed out.

The center sat on a hill, crushed granite surrounding the side and back parking area. Her boots slid in the loose rock as she scrambled after him. When she turned the corner, she found Rick, arms akimbo, staring at the back porch. A mangy looking dog sat on the sissel door mat next to an empty food bowl.

“Get out of here,” he shouted at the dog, waving his hands in a shooing motion.

“I’m guessing that’s not your dog?” she said, kneeling and motioning for the dog to come to her. It truly was a scrawny thing, with matted brown fur and rheumy eyes. Just pitiful. The dog wouldn’t come to her. It looked at Rick.

“No, it’s not my dog. It keeps hanging around here. The last thing I need is a stray crapping all over the yard and barking at every leaf that blows by.”

“Then why are you feeding it?”

Rick tried to look disgusted. “Because it’s hungry.”

The dog yawned and looked bored. He turned a lazy circle and lay down.

“Hate to tell you this, but if you feed it, it’s your dog.” Kate walked up the back steps and knelt, extending her hand for the dog to sniff. The mutt lifted his head and licked her fingers. “What’s his name?”

Rick stared at her and the stray. “I don’t know. Banjo?”

Kate laughed, scaring the dog. The mutt ran straight to Rick and hid behind his splayed legs. “Yep, Banjo is your dog. An ugly dog at that.”

Rick looked down at where the animal cowered at his knees. “I don’t know. He’s not that ugly. Maybe with a bath, he’d clean up okay.”

Kate rose and looked around the area where she stood. Newly planted ornamental grasses flanked the back porch. A bird feeder sat at the back of the large bricked patio that extended off the porch. Adirondack chairs and matching benches scattered the patio and a fire pit sat in the center. Barren Texas countryside surrounded the building, presently desolate, but in the spring, it would be gorgeous.

Rick passed her, leaving the dog to sniff the bushes. He unlocked the center and stepped inside. She followed. The first thing she noticed was the smell. Fresh pine and cedar. The room was large and had a huge fireplace with a moose head over the mantel.

“Do they have moose in Texas?” Kate asked, as she took in the wagon wheel candelabras that hung by iron chains from the ceiling and the rustic leather sectionals. A cowhide rug centered the room. Whoever had come up with the vision for the rehabilitation center had done an excellent job. Kate felt as though she could wrap herself in a woolen throw, grab a hot chocolate and stare out at the countryside for hours.

“That’s Winston. Grady Hart donated him. He killed him in Canada on a hunt with your father.” Rick’s words came from over her shoulder. He stood in the doorway of what was likely the kitchen. An enormous pine table sat in an area just past the large community room.

“It sounds weird for you to say
my father.
I don’t really think of him like that,” she commented as she moved around the room glancing at the framed photographs of Texas landmarks mounted on the wall.

“But he thinks of you as his.”

“Well, I’m not one of his possessions.”

Rick considered her. “No, you’re not, are you.”

Her exploration led her to one of the wide front windows. The Mustang sat forlorn in the drive. The dog had wandered around and now hiked his leg on the tires. She wouldn’t tell Rick. Probably wouldn’t sit well with him.

“Let me grab some things I have to take back to the office supply store. Might as well do the return while we’re picking up things you need in Longview.”

Kate nodded. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll poke around the center.”

“Let me show you where everything is.”

Kate could tell he enjoyed showing off the place, so she let him play tour guide, following him, past the moose head into a long hallway that stretched over fifty feet. Four rough pine doors sat on each side. Rick opened each, sticking his head inside for a quick survey. The rooms were each sparsely furnished with an iron bed, cheerful quilt and simple pine bureau beside a single window. The only other object inside was a small desk.

“These are the rooms for the clients. Our facility is different from other programs around the country. Some of those programs sit in the middle of the barrios and hoods. They provide therapy, job training, tattoo removals, things like that. There’s a program in Los Angeles that even runs a restaurant. We want to give our clients the chance to remove themselves from the destructive environment before taking on the programs that will help them build new lives.”