Flirting with Texas (Deep in the Heart of Texas) (30 page)

Beau’s happiness tripled at the thought of Jenna telling her daddy about him. It diminished when he realized that Mr. Scroggs had gotten his information from Billy.

“So what are you doin’ in Bramble? Last I heard from Billy you were doin’ a little bull ridin’. I rode a bull only once in my life, and it pert near made Hope and Faith only children and Jenna a very unhappy wife.”

Jenna?

Before Beau could question him, a petite dark-haired woman hurried into the room. “And I’m gonna be a very unhappy wife if you don’t get in there and eat your dessert before your ice cream melts.” She glanced over at Beau, and his breath caught as he looked into a face almost identical to Jenna’s. “And just who is this good-lookin’ cowboy?”

“Watch your flirtin’, woman,” Mr. Scroggs said as he
hooked an arm around her. “Jenna, this here is Beauregard Cates.”

“Bubba’s brother?” Mrs. Scroggs engulfed him in a hug. “Well, why didn’t you say so sooner? Billy has been about the best boss Burl could ask for. Come on in and join us for a piece of cherry pie and ice cream.” She took his hat and herded him into the dining room.

Eight or nine adults and children were squeezed in around a table, eating and talking over one another. Beau recognized Slate and Faith Calhoun and their daughter, Daisy. And Colt and Hope and their daughter, Daffodil. But he didn’t recognize the dark-haired woman that sat next to Jenna. Or the sleeping baby in Jenna’s arms. The sight of the baby cradled against Jenna’s shoulder made Beau’s heart thump in double time.

“Lookee who stopped by for a visit,” Mrs. Scroggs said.

Everyone stopped talking and looked up at Beau. Slate and Colt jumped up to shake his hand, and Faith and Hope each gave him a hug, but the entire time he was greeting them, he couldn’t take his eyes off Jenna.

He expected surprise, anger, and maybe a slight amount of joy. Instead, the blue eyes that stared back at him were empty. No surprise. No fire. Not even recognition. She looked right through him as if he didn’t even exist. The look drained all the happiness right out of him and left him floundering like a fish out of water.

“I’ll just run out to the garage and get another chair,” Mr. Scroggs said.

“Don’t bother, Daddy.” Hope walked around to take the baby from Jenna. “The kids are all tuckered out from the trip and seeing their Aunt Jenna Jay so we better get on home.”

“We should get home, too,” Slate said as he wrapped an arm around Faith and settled his hand on her rounded stomach. “Little mamas need plenty of rest.”

There were hugs all around and promises made for Sunday dinner before the two families headed for the door. As soon as they were gone, Mrs. Scroggs turned to him.

“Are you still single, Beauregard?”

With his eyes pinned on Jenna, he nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, ain’t that nice,” Mrs. Scroggs said as she guided him over to the chair next to the dark-haired woman. “This here is my daughter, Tessa, who’s as single as a slice of cheese.”

Tessa rolled her eyes. “Don’t pay any attention to my mama, Mr. Cates. She’s just worried that I’m going to end up an old maid. Especially since my baby sister, Jenna Jay, is about to beat me to the punch.”

Beau halted midway between standing and sitting. He stared at Jenna, but she refused to look at him.

“It was the darnest thing,” Mrs. Scroggs said. “We had no more than walked in the door when Delbert called and proposed to our little Jenna Jay. It was almost like a sign from heaven that God wanted us to stop feudin’ and accept Delbert into our family with open arms.”

“Not Delbert, Mama,” Tessa said. “His name is Davy.”

“Oh, right.” She shook her head. “Why can’t I seem to remember that? Anyway, Beauregard, we were just goin’ over the weddin’ plans when you showed up. Jennie Bean might want to live in New York City, but she’s gonna have her weddin’ right here in Bramble.” She shot Jenna a warning look. “Or else.”

Just the thought of Jenna and Davy getting married—in Bramble or otherwise—had Beau jumping up from his chair.

“Would you excuse me and Jenna Jay for a second? There’s something I need to talk with her about.” He moved behind Tessa, who seemed to have no problem scooting up her chair to let him by. Jenna wasn’t as considerate. When he went to pull out her chair, she hung onto the table.

“I have nothing to say to you,” she said through clenched teeth.

“Oh, but I think you do.” He jerked harder, and the tablecloth shifted, causing plates to slide and glasses to wobble.

Mrs. Scroggs grabbed for her water glass. “You know our little Jenna Jay, Beau?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said as he unclenched Jenna’s hands from the edge of the table. “We met in New York and traveled all the way out to Bramble together in a single bed cab-over—
oomph
!” He groaned when Jenna’s elbow connected with his stomach. Ignoring the pain, he made a grab for her arm, but she shoved back the chair and sidestepped out of his reach.

“What in tarnation is goin’ on here?” Mr. Scroggs got to his feet. “I will not allow my daughters to be manhandled, Beau. I don’t care how much we owe your family.”

Jenna stopped and got a smug look on her face. “You tell him, Daddy. And this isn’t the first time he’s manhandled me. So whup his butt and send him on his way.”

“Now, Jenna Jay.” Mrs. Scroggs got to her feet with the brightest of smiles. “Is that any way to treat a guest? Of course, your daddy is not going to whup Beauregard’s
butt. Not when you two have become such good… friends.”

“Friends?” Mr. Scroggs looked confused for only a second before a smile almost as bright as his wife’s settled on his face. “Why, I wouldn’t think of it. You two just go right out on the porch and do all the… talkin’ you want. And take your time. All of us were just about to go to bed.”

With her parents’ permission, Beau didn’t hesitate to move around the table and scoop Jenna up in his arms. She didn’t fight him. Now her anger seemed to be directed at her parents.

“Fine. Just let him abduct me right in front of your noses. I should’ve known all it would take was a handsome cowboy to get you to forget that I’m your flesh and blood daughter!”

Beau might’ve smiled if he wasn’t so damned mad. Walking through the living room, he kicked the screen door open and stepped out on the porch. He set her on her feet but kept his hands around her waist.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you got back with Davy?” he asked.

She glared back at him, but her anger was soon replaced with the vacant, empty look that made his stomach hurt. “I guess the same reason you didn’t tell me you had cancer.”

“Those are two different things.”

“Are they? Obviously, neither one of us feels close enough to the other to share important information.”

“Not fuckin’ close enough?” His hands tightened on her waist, and she flinched. He immediately released her but refused to step away. “Not more than three hours ago, we were as close as two people can get, Jenna.”

“That’s sex, Beau. There’s a difference.”

“So are you saying it was all about sex for you?”

“Isn’t that what you wanted? You told me you didn’t want a serious relationship. You just wanted some fun.” She turned away from him and moved to the railing. While he’d been inside, the air had changed. It was now humid and thick with the scent of rain.

He ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, so I spouted off a lot of crap about not wanting to get involved in a relationship. But I think you can understand why. I didn’t have the right to get close to anyone. Not when I had cancer hanging over my head. Still, I admit that I should’ve told you. And I was going to tell you today, but then Brant showed up.”

Time seemed to slow to a painful stop as he waited for her to speak. When she did, her voice sounded like a stranger’s—tight and lifeless. “What kind of cancer?”

“A type of lymphoma,” he said.

“Is that why your hair…”

“It came back that way after the chemo.”

He could hear her swallow. “But you’re okay now?”

“For now.”

He wanted to touch her. Instead, they remained where they were—staring out at the storm that moved ever closer. When he couldn’t take the silence anymore he spoke. “So you’re going to marry Davy?”

A lifetime passed before she answered. “As much as my mother has decided to jump on the marriage bandwagon, I haven’t given him an answer.”

Beau took her arm and turned her back around. “But you’re going to say yes.”

“I don’t know.” She wrapped her arms around her chest as if trying to hold in her heart. “Everything has come at me all at once. You. Davy. Your cancer. I can’t think.”

His hand tightened. “You don’t have to think, Jenna. Just feel. What do you feel?”

“I don’t know!” she yelled.

“Well, I know,” Beau said as he jerked her closer. “I know exactly how I feel.”

“Don’t, Beau.” In the light that shone through the curtains of the living room, her eyes looked watery and frightened. “Please don’t. Not now.”

“Don’t what? Tell you that I love you? That I need you as much as Davy does, if not more? That I came here tonight to get down on one knee and ask you to marry me?”

“Stop it!” She pulled away from him. “Just stop it. You can’t be in love with me. Not when you don’t even trust me enough to tell me the truth. I would’ve told you if I had cancer,” she sobbed. “I would’ve told you so you could’ve gotten out before you gave your heart.”

Behind her, the storm had moved closer, jagged lines of lightning cracking open the darkened skies like an eggshell.

Like his very soul.

He watched as tears trickled down her cheeks. They were the last things he wanted to see. Especially when they were tears of good-bye.

“All right, Jenna.” He pushed her away. “I get it. You need a cause you can win. And cancer is an iffy thing at best. Yes, the test results came back clear, but what about next year? Or the year after? So run back to Davy. I don’t have any doubt that you’ll whip him into shape eventually. And it’s better to love a loser than a man who can’t even promise to be around on his next birthday. Or yours.”

How Beau managed to turn away from those watery
blue eyes, he didn’t know. One minute he was standing staring down at her, and the next he was heading across the yard toward Billy’s monster truck. The skies opened up before he reached it, soaking his hair and shirt. He had left his hat again, but he didn’t care. He welcomed the cold, stinging drops. He tipped his head up and let the deluge soak him for a full five minutes before he reached for the handle of the truck. Once inside, he twisted the key, and the engine rumbled to life. As he started to back out, he switched on the headlights.

They illuminated the entire front of the house.

Including the empty front porch.

“I
T’S THE BLAME-DIST THING
I
’VE EVER SEEN,”
Twyla said. “It’s just like that bible story about Jesus and that Mary Mag-da-lena. Except we never did try to stone Marcy. Although I wanted to once when she fooled around with my boyfriend Joe. ’Course, I guess she did me a favor. That man loved Jack Daniels more than he would’ve ever loved me.” She pointed a finger at Jenna, who had just leaned over the counter to pour Twyla a cup of coffee. “You remember Joe, don’t you, Jenna Jay? You got him hooked up with that AA—or is it AAA? I always get them two confused.”

“Alcoholics Anonymous,” Jenna said absently as her gaze wandered to the window where Marcy and Pastor Robbins were walking past. The pastor had his arm around Marcy and was looking down at her like she hung the moon. The sight of them pulled up memories of the henhouse, which led to memories of Beau. Of course, everything led to memories of Beau. Vivid, gut-twisting memories that haunted her at night and plagued her during the day.

“Well, I think someone should have a talk with the pastor,” Cindy Lynn said. She took a bite of her oatmeal while she eyeballed Darla’s blueberry pancakes that Jenna had just set down in front of her. “Obviously, the man doesn’t know about Marcy’s sordid past. When he finds out what kind of woman she is, he’ll forget all about marriage and run for the hills.”

Twyla lifted the sugar dispenser and poured a steady stream into her coffee. “I don’t know about that. Sordid pasts didn’t stop Ed from marryin’ you.”

“And just what are you sayin’, Twyla?” Cindy Lynn snapped. “My sordid past was nothin’ compared to Marcy’s. Why, I heard that she was workin’ at Miss Hattie’s.”

Turning, Twyla trailed a line of sugar across the counter. “No foolin’? Would that make Beauregard Cates her pimp? Because I would pimp myself out for that man anytime.”

Just Beau’s name had Jenna’s face flushing. To hide her reaction, she turned and placed the carafe back in the coffeemaker.

“It doesn’t matter if he’s her pimp or not,” Cindy continued. “What matters is having a prostitute as our pastor’s wife. Why, we’ll be the laughingstock of Haskins County.”

“As if we haven’t been that before.” Darla adjusted the wooden hoop that held the pillowcase she was embroidering with the Texas state flag. “But you might be right. The pastor’s wife is responsible for taking on all charitable works in the community, and Marcy has never been very charitable—at least not with the womenfolk. Although she’s shore done a good job at the library.”

“Too bad you’re marryin’ that tattooed rocker dude,
Jenna Jay.” Twyla poured half the container of cream in her cup. “With all the charity you do, you’d make a great pastor’s wife.”

Jenna wasn’t surprised that the townsfolk had heard about Davy’s proposal. News traveled fast in a small town, and it had been a week since Davy had proposed to her. And a week since Beau had left her feeling as if her heart had been jerked out of her chest and repeatedly run over by an eighteen-wheeler. The feeling had convinced her that what she had with Davy wasn’t enough to marry him.

“I’m not marrying Davy,” she said.

“Davy?” Twyla said. “Who’s Davy? I was talkin’ about you marryin’ Delbert.”

Before Jenna could tell her that Davy and Delbert were one and the same, the bell over the door jangled, and Rachel Dean hustled in, holding a picket sign that read,
Shoo the Hens Out of Texas
.