Heart of Texas Vol. 2 (13 page)

The waitress arrived with her pad and pen. Ellie gave the woman her order, then chatted briefly while Jane reviewed her choices one last time.

“I'll have a green salad with avocado if you've got it.”

The waitress—Denise, according to her name tag—wrote it down on her pad.

“With dressing on the side.”

Denise exchanged a scornful glance with Ellie before she called the order in to the kitchen. The woman's reaction was typical of what Jane had encountered the past few weeks.

“What did I do that was so wrong?” Jane asked, leaning forward.

“First off, we Texans pride our selves on our food.”

“The diet around here is appalling,” Jane blurted without thinking. “Everything is loaded with fat. Chicken-fried steak, barbecued meat, chili without beans—doesn't anyone appreciate the high fiber content of kidney beans?”

“It's exactly this attitude that's causing your problems, Doc.”

“What attitude? All I'm trying to do is set better health standards for the community! It's a wonder you aren't all dead or dying.”

“And a wonder you haven't been tarred and feathered,” Ellie snapped.

Jane's mouth sagged open. She might have laughed if Ellie hadn't looked so serious.

“You want to know why people are un friendly?” Ellie asked. “Perhaps you should look at how
you
come across. Rude, superior and know-it-all! The only reason I agreed to talk to you is because of Dovie, who for reasons I don't understand has taken a liking to you.”

The woman was spitting mad, and other than pointing out a few basic truths, Jane still didn't know what she'd done that was so offensive.

“As far as everyone in this town is concerned, you can take your salad-eating wine-sipping butt and go back to California. We don't need some surfer chick telling us what's good for us, understand?”

Jane noted that the other customers had gone quiet. Several heads nodded in agreement. “I see,” she said, struggling to hold on to her composure. “But unfortunately I've signed a contract and I'm stuck here for three years. So if I'm going to live in this community—”

“Then I suggest you change your high-and-mighty ways.”

Swallowing her pride, Jane nodded. “I'm probably going to need a little help.”

“You need a lot of help.”

Jane decided to let that comment slide. “I'd appreciate a few words of advice.”

Ellie didn't answer right away. “You sure you're up to this?”

Jane smiled. As far as she could see, she didn't have any choice. “Be gentle, all right?”

A smile cracked Ellie's lips. “I'll try.”

Jane sighed. They'd started off on the wrong foot, but she sensed Ellie could be an important ally, and she badly needed a friend her own age. Dovie was kind, but it would take more than the assistance of one woman to help her fit in.

“Denise.” Ellie waved her arm and called for the waitress. “Doc wants to change her order.”

“I do?”

“You said you're willing to learn. Now's your chance. Your initiation, if you like. First, I'll teach you how to eat like a Texan. We can both diet tomorrow.”

Jane swallowed, then nodded. “What is it I want to order?”

Ellie motioned to the waitress. “The doc here will have the chicken-fried steak, fried okra and an extra scoop of gravy on her mashed potatoes.”

“All
right,
” Denise said with smiling approval, writing it on her pad. “Do you want a side salad with that?” she asked.

It would probably be the only healthy part of the entire meal. “Sure.” Jane was about to remind her to leave off the dressing, when Ellie added, “Put the dressing right on top of it, too, will you, Denise?”

The waitress grinned from ear to ear. “Not a problem.”

Jane decided then and there that either she'd adjust to life in Texas…or die trying.

 

M
AGGIE GASPED AND BOLTED
upright in bed, unsure for a moment where she was. Her skin felt clammy, and she was breathing fast. A moment later she realized it had only been a dream. She'd been in the town again, the one with the bad ghosts. Richard was in her dream, too. He was looking at her and his face kept getting wider and longer as if he were staring at her through a wavy mirror.

His voice boomed loud, too, and he kept telling her what would happen to her mother if Maggie told anyone where she'd been. Again and again she promised him she wouldn't tell, and she hadn't. Not anyone. Not even her dolls.

Kicking aside her blankets, Maggie stole out of the bedroom and sneaked down the hallway, guided by the night-light, to her mother's bedroom. She stood and watched her mother sleeping, checking to make sure she was safe and no bad ghosts had gotten her.

“Maggie?” Her mother's eyes fluttered open.

“I had a bad dream,” Maggie whispered.

Her mother tossed back the sheet, silently inviting Maggie into bed with her. Maggie was glad; it was a rare treat to sleep with her mommy. She climbed onto the bed and her mother wrapped an arm around her, then gently brushed the hair from her brow.

“Was it a very bad dream?” she asked.

“A scary one,” Maggie told her.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

Maggie shook her head. She didn't want to think about Richard ever again. She remembered that he didn't know she'd taken the doll, and if he found out, he might send the bad ghosts
after her. As soon as she could, Maggie had removed the doll from her backpack and hidden it inside a big tin in her closet. No one knew it was there. Not Mommy. Not Richard. Not anyone.

Safe in her mother's arms, Maggie closed her eyes.

“You're not frightened now, are you?”

Maggie shook her head, but it wasn't true. “A little,” she confessed.

“Did I tell you Grady's coming over tomorrow after church, and we're going to the park for a picnic?”

Maggie's spirits buoyed. “We are?” Usually they went out to the ranch and visited with Savannah and Laredo, too.

“Does that sound like fun?”

Maggie nodded eagerly. “Will Grady push me on the swing?”

“If you ask him.”

Maggie closed her eyes again and sighed deeply. “Grady's not so bad. I'm sorry his dog died.” She'd liked Rocket.

She felt her mommy nod. “He's going to miss him.”

“I'm going to miss him, too,” Maggie said. “Maybe we can make Grady feel better.”

“He doesn't frighten you anymore?”

Maggie shook her head. “He does a little when he yells, but if I plug my ears I don't really hear it.”

“He doesn't mean to yell, it's just…part of his nature.”

Maggie wasn't entirely sure what that meant. But she knew that ever since the morning Grady found her running down the driveway and she saw his face light up with a smile, she'd liked him better. Until then, she'd never seen Grady smile, not a real smile, anyway. He'd hugged her again and again that day, and her mommy, too. Later he'd taken her into the barn and held her hand so she wouldn't be afraid of Widowmaker and let her see the new colt.

Grady had reminded her that she had yet to choose a name for him. She'd chosen “Moonbeam,” and Grady said it was a pretty name. Wiley had teased him about it and said it sounded like one of those hippie names from the sixties—whatever that meant—but Grady had insisted Moonbeam was it. She'd chosen well.

“I think Grady's special,” Maggie announced suddenly. She no longer felt any doubt. Richard had been fun at first, but he wasn't a real friend.

“I do, too,” her mommy said softly.

 

C
AROLINE HAD READIED
the picnic basket and cooler before church, packing everything that didn't need to be refrigerated. It had been Grady's idea to go on a picnic in Pioneer Park and she suspected she knew why. Ever since she'd brought up the subject of Maggie's father, he'd been waiting for her to tell him. She wished now that she'd ignored his advice the day they'd gone horse back riding. The day Maggie disappeared. It would make everything far less complicated now. She pushed the worry to the back of her mind, determined to have a good time. If the subject arose, she'd deal with it then.

The park sat in the very center of town and took up four square blocks. It had a wading pool for toddlers, as well as Promise's one and only swimming pool, complete with diving board. The grass was lush and green and meticulously groomed. A statue of a pioneer family stood proudly in the middle, along with a plaque that de scribed the pioneers' role in Texan history. The paved walkways all led directly toward the statue.

Maggie loved the play ground, and Caroline appreciated Grady's willingness to indulge her child. Ever since that terrible night, Grady had given special attention to her daughter.

Caroline didn't know what she would have done without
Grady. That night had been a turning point for all of them. For her and Grady, and for Grady and Maggie.

The doorbell rang and Maggie screamed from inside her bedroom, “I'll get it!” Caroline heard her race for the door.

The only person it could be was Grady. He'd followed them home from church, driving the old Ford pickup, which had been returned to him a few days before. Maggie had already changed out of her Sunday-school dress and into shorts. Caroline wore a sleeveless yellow cotton dress, with a wide straw hat and sandals, the same clothes she'd worn to the service. Grady sent her a purely masculine look of approval as Maggie dragged him by the hand into the kitchen.

“It's Grady,” Maggie announced un necessarily. “Can we go now?”

“Soon. I've got to load up the potato salad and fried chicken first.”

“Mommy makes the best potato salad in the world,” Maggie said. “She lets me peel the hard-boiled eggs and help her stir.”

“No wonder it's so good,” he said and glanced from Maggie to Caroline.

The look, however brief, made Caroline wonder if he was speculating about who had fathered her child. Then again, she might be imagining it. Every time they were together, she became obsessed with her secret, with the need to tell Grady. She loved this man and she feared what would happen once he learned the truth.

“Go put on your running shoes,” Caroline instructed her daughter. Maggie dashed out of the room, eager to comply.

Grady watched Maggie go before turning his attention to her. “I didn't embarrass you in church this morning, did I?”

“No,” she answered, wondering what he was talking about.

“I couldn't keep my eyes off you.”

“I didn't really notice…” She hated this tension, this constant fear that any look he gave her, any silence, meant he was wondering about Maggie's father. Soon, she promised herself. She'd tell him soon. Perhaps even today.

Grady gripped her about the waist and they kissed, sweetly and unhurriedly. “I didn't hear a word of Wade's sermon,” he whispered into her hair, holding her close.

“Me, neither.” But not for the reasons he assumed.

“Wade stopped me on the way out the door,” Grady said, grinning, “and told me there'd be a test on the sermon next week. Not to worry, though, he was willing to share his notes.”

Caroline managed a smile. “I think Wade's the best thing that's happened to Promise Christian in a long time.”

“You're the best thing that's happened to me,” Grady whispered. “Ever.” He reluctantly let her go when Maggie tore into the kitchen.

The five-year-old was breathless with excitement. “I'm ready!” she cried.

Caroline added the potato salad and fried chicken to the cooler, and Grady carried it to his pickup. The three of them piled into the front and drove to the park.

Caroline noticed that Maggie was especially quiet on the short drive. She was concerned the child might be reacting to her tension. But Maggie's spirits lifted the instant they arrived at the park. Grady lugged the picnic supplies to a vacant table, and while Caroline covered it with a plastic-coated table cloth, Maggie insisted on showing Grady her favorite swing.

“Go on, you two,” Caroline said, waving them away. Once again she noticed—or thought she did—the way Grady studied Maggie. Briefly she wondered if he'd guessed.

Determined to ignore her worries, at least for the moment,
Caroline spread a blanket on the grass in a shady area. When she'd finished, she slid the cooler beneath the table and out of the sun.

The sound of Maggie's laughter drifted toward her, and Caroline looked up to discover her daughter on the swing set with Grady standing behind her.

“Higher!” Maggie shouted. “Push me higher!”

Grady did, until Caroline held her breath at the heights the swing reached. She pressed her hand to her mouth to keep from calling out a warning, knowing she could trust Grady with her daughter. She gasped once when the swing buckled, but Grady swiftly caught it and brought it back under control.

Eventually he stopped the swing and Maggie returned to earth. Squealing with delight, she still had energy left to run back to their picnic table.

“Did you see, Mommy?” Maggie cried. “Did you see how high Grady pushed me?”

Caroline nodded. “I saw.”

“I could touch the sky with my feet. Did you see? Did you see?”

“Yes, baby, I saw.”

The afternoon was lovely. After they ate, Maggie curled up on the blanket and quickly fell asleep.

Now,
Caroline commanded herself.
Tell him now.
But she couldn't make herself do it, couldn't bear to see the look in his eyes when he learned the truth. Avoiding his gaze, she brushed the soft curls from her daughter's brow.

“Any effects from her night away from home?” Grady asked. “Has she told you anything of what happened?”

“Not a word, but she woke up last night with a night mare and wouldn't tell me about it.”