Dorothy Garlock - [Route 66] (7 page)

He listened to the sounds made by the cars that passed on the highway. Not many people traveled at night here in Oklahoma. When they got over into Arizona and eastern California many of them would rather stop during the heat of the day and continue after the sun went down.

Yates's mind wandered over the events of the day. This morning when he saddled his horse at first light to take a ride over the countryside, he couldn't have imagined that he'd be sleeping tonight in Andy Connors's garage thinking about the woman in Andy Connors's house.

Hell, he couldn't blame her for being nervous. She didn't know him, so how would she know that he'd no more force himself on a woman who didn't want him than he'd take wings and fly?

While roaming the country he had come in contact with women of all kinds. They were the same as men; some good, some bad, some so nondescript that he was only barely aware of their existence.

He'd never met a woman quite like Leona. She had a sort of inborn breeding, like a wild mustang that had a thoroughbred somewhere in its lineage. She was so willowy that she seemed fragile, but she was wiry, like a cat who would fight if cornered. The way she moved made him think this— an unconscious mixture of caution and alertness.

The plain fact, he admitted now, was that he had wanted to touch her and he had liked what he had touched. He could still feel the softness of her chin between his fingers, feel her warm breath on his hand and smell the warm womanly scent of her.

Something had happened to her to make her leery. He wondered what the relationship was between her and Andy. What was she to him? She appeared to be more than a nursemaid he'd hired to look after his girls.

It had been a good while since he'd been interested enough in a woman to give her this much thought. Leona was proud and plucky and out of his reach, because she was living with Andy, giving Andy's children a mother's care. Yates knew from first-hand experience that the love of a mother and father was the most important factor in a child's life.

His early childhood years had forged him into the man he was today. No one had ever loved him but his mother and his grandparents during the first few years of his life. He didn't even know if he was capable of love. He'd lived most of his life without it.

Yates didn't like to think about his own childhood. From an early age he had wondered why the man he called “Papa” had no time for him and why he was the cause of long and loud arguments between his parents.

It wasn't until he was fourteen years old that his mother thought he was mature enough to understand the circumstances of his birth, the reason she had married Arnold Taylor and why the ranch would be Arnold's for as long as he lived. She explained to Yates that the ranch would remain intact and on Arnold's death it would go to him.

Holly Louise Yates had been a young, lonely sixteen-year-old girl living on an isolated ranch when she fell in love with a young man who had come with a party from Virginia to hunt on her father's land. He had amused himself by flirting with the naive young girl. She had been in heaven, reveling in his attention, willing to give him anything he wanted. When he left to go back east to his fancy school, she had given him her virginity and was pregnant.

She never told Yates how devastating it was to her parents; nor did she tell him the name of the young man who had fathered him, and he never asked.

Holly Louise lost her parents when she was twenty. Feeling alone and frightened of the responsibility of raising a child alone and running a large ranch even with trusted help, she had married Arnold Taylor, the son of the local banker, on the condition that he adopt her son and give him his name.

The Yates Ranch, south and west of San Angelo, was one of the largest in southwest Texas. Less than a year after the death of Holly Louise, Arnold Taylor remarried. His new wife demanded that the ranch be renamed the Taylor Ranch and was furious that Arnold couldn't sell an acre of it without Yates's signature. Arnold and his new wife had made life miserable for the boy. He left home without a dime in his pocket as soon as he finished school. He worked on ranches or at any job he could get for a year and spent a month in jail before he joined a bridge-building crew.

On his twenty-first birthday, he contacted his mother's lawyer and returned to San Angelo to confront his adopted father and demand the money left to him by his mother and his grandparents.

After a vicious round of arguments, Arnold had gone to the bank with Yates. When the banker handed Yates the check, he had put it in his pocket, walked away and had not looked back. He immediately went to the courthouse and had his name legally changed back to the one that was on his birth certificate. H. L. Yates. The initials were from his mother's name, Holly Louise.

Yates considered himself lucky to have had friends who had advised him to diversify his investments so that he hadn't been hurt bad in the crash of '29. He still had the bulk of his inheritance and was able to keep loose, free and unfettered, to go when he pleased.

When the time came to return to the place of his birth and take up the responsibility of preserving his heritage, he would choose a strong young woman to bear his sons to carry on the Yates name. He didn't expect to love her, but he would respect her as the mother of his children.

His thoughts went to the last report he'd had from the lawyer who was looking after his affairs. Arnold Taylor was a piss-poor manager, the lawyer had written, but the bastard was lucky. There had been decent rainfall in the area, and in spite of low cattle prices the ranch was holding its own. The other news he'd had to offer Yates was at the end of the letter.

Arnold has lost a lot of weight lately and is looking rather peaked.

Leona put in a restless night. She was up at dawn doing the morning chores. When she came out of the barn after milking she saw that the campers were cooking breakfast over the campfire. She lifted her hand in greeting. The woman waved back.

In the kitchen, Leona put the coffeepot on the small twoburner kerosene stove. On the other burner, she placed the skillet for the bacon. She didn't fire up the cookstove in the summer unless she needed to use the oven. Determined to have as little to do with the man called Yates as possible, she had decided to serve his breakfast on the front porch. Andy liked to eat out there, so that he would be able to see if anyone stopped at the gas pump.

Leona was breaking eggs into a bowl when she heard Calvin barking. She looked out the back window to see Yates at the pump and Calvin frolicking around him. The dog was in heaven. Yates was holding a stick out of his reach and Calvin was jumping to get it.

Leona watched as the man played with the dog. Laughter reached her when Calvin grasped the stick and he tried to wrestle it from him. It was the first hearty laughter she'd heard from Yates. Then he was down on one knee scratching the dog behind the ears and dodging Calvin's licks of affection.

He seemed to be more …approachable this morning. But still, she reminded herself, she'd better not let her guard down. He was what some folks would call a “rounder” and far too hard, too ruthless and too worldly wise for her.

It irked her that he could fluster her.

She had decided during the night that the best course of action would be for her to treat him the same as she would if Andy were here—fix his meals, answer only his questions about the garage, keep a distance between them.

She was pouring the eggs into the skillet when the knock sounded on the back door.

“Come in,” Leona said without turning around. “Coffee is ready. Fill one of the cups on the counter and take it to the front porch. I'll bring your breakfast in a minute.”

“Good morning.” It irritated Yates that she kept her back to him.

“Morning,” she said, stirring the eggs in the skillet. “We don't have biscuits this morning. I didn't want to fire up the stove because I'm going to town. I'll make them for dinner.”

After a lengthy quiet, she looked over her shoulder to see him lounging in the doorway, his shoulder against the jamb. His silence mangled her nerves. Aware that he watched her, she tilted the skillet over a plate and scooped out the scrambled eggs and forked several strips of crisp bacon onto the plate. Then, ignoring him, she carried the plate and eating utensils through the front room to the porch and placed them on the small table beside the chair.

He was still standing in the doorway when she returned to the kitchen. Ignoring him, she poured a cup of coffee and turned to find that Yates had moved from the back door to the one leading through the house, blocking her way to the front porch. Without hesitation she thrust the cup of hot coffee in his hands.

“I hope you like scrambled eggs,” she said with all the poise and self-control she could muster.

“I like them any way as long as they're not raw.” His eyes clung to her face. A dimple he hadn't noticed before appeared in her cheek. She was so confident, so calm and so damn pretty. She turned back to the stove and he spoke to her back.

“The camper wants to stay another day so the women can wash some clothes. He'll keep an eye on things while I go get my car.”

“You're taking the responsibility for leaving a stranger in charge of the garage?”

“Mr. Oliver seems a decent sort. He tried to give me a five-dollar bill he found by the gas pump.”

“Found
by the gas pump? Were you testing him?”

“It's a good way to tell if a man is honest.”

“The girls and I will be ready to go as soon as they have their breakfast.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Have you had breakfast?”

“I'll eat with the girls. You'd better get to yours before it gets cold.” With that she dismissed him and turned back to break more eggs into the bowl.

Chapter 7

Y
ATES DROVE ANDY'S CAR INTO TOWN
. Ruth Ann sat between him and Leona. JoBeth sat on Leona's lap. For once, Leona was grateful for the child's excited chatter, so that she didn't have to make polite conversation with the stony-faced man.

As soon as Yates parked the car in front of the post office, they got out. He came around the car and handed the keys to Leona.

“Are you goin' with us to buy stamps for Daddy?” JoBeth had wiggled her small hand into Yates's big one.

“No. I'm going to the hotel and check out of my room, then to the store.”

“I've not been in a hotel. What's it like?”

“It's a place people stay all night when they are traveling.”

“Don't they stay in campgrounds?”

“Sometimes.”

“Don't you know anything?” Ruth Ann said impatiently. “Stop asking so many questions.”

Ignoring her sister, JoBeth continued. “Whatter you goin' to buy, Mr. Yates?”

“I haven't decided yet. Any suggestions?”

“Come on, girls,” Leona said quickly, pulling on JoBeth's other hand. “We'll be back in time to fix your dinner, Mr. Yates.”

“I didn't doubt it, Miss …Leona.” He watched her and the two girls until they entered the post office, then walked on down the street to the hotel.

Leona had put up a thicker wall since last night, he mused. Hell, he'd only touched her chin. What would she have done if he'd kissed her? Gone up in blue smoke? He found himself chuckling. It surprised him. He had chuckled, smiled, laughed more since he'd met Leona and the girls than he'd done in a month. He decided that he liked kids, especially that little one. She was a ring-tailed tooter.

When he came out of the hotel, he paused on the steps and looked up and down the street. Downtown Sayre consisted of a dozen or so business buildings strung down both sides of a poorly paved street. It looked much like other small towns he had been in. All had suffered from the Depression. A fourth of the buildings along the main street were vacant. If not for trade from the highway the town probably would have dried up and blown away long ago.

Andy's car was still parked at the post office, but Leona and the girls were not in sight. The postmaster was sorting mail when Yates walked in.

“Morning. Anything for H. L. Yates?”

“Yup. Got a general delivery that come in this morning from”—the man squinted at the postmark—“San Angelo, Texas. That's a long way from here.”

“Yeah it is.” Yates took the letter and put it in his pocket. “Thanks.”

“You going to be around for a spell?”

“Thinking about it.” Yates walked out, leaned against Andy's car and opened his letter. He scanned the contents and muttered, “Shit! Why now?”

He returned the letter to the envelope, walked down the street and into the grocery store.

“Howdy.” The friendly greeting came from the man behind the counter as soon as Yates stepped inside the door. The shopkeeper remembered the big dark man and the bill of groceries he'd bought the day before.

“Howdy. Are you in charge here?”

“Wayne White.” The white-aproned man stepped out from behind the counter and extended his hand.

“Name's Yates.” The two men shook hands.

“Glad to make your acquaintance.”

“Does Andy Connors have a bill here?”

The question took Mr. White by surprise. He blinked, cocked his head to one side and went back behind the counter.

“Most folks 'round here run a bill.”

“Andy is in the hospital in Oklahoma City—”

“Ah law! I didn't know that.”

“He was bit by a sick skunk and will be there for some time, taking the vaccine. I'm his cousin. I told him that I'd take care of his bills and stay at the garage until he's on his feet again.” While lying he looked the man in the eyes.

“That's mighty decent of ya, Mr. Yates.”

“Not at all. Andy would do the same for me.”

“I never knew Andy had any folks around here.”

“I'm from Texas and just happened to be passing through. Good timing, huh?”

“I'll say. Good for Andy. He's had a heap of trouble. Will he be all right?”

“The doctors won't know for a while if he's going to take to the vaccine. Some folks are allergic to it. I'll be taking Leona and the girls to see him in a few days.”

“Rabies, huh? There's been a little around here off and on for years.”