Love Finds You in Groom, Texas (2 page)

He shook his head. “Maybe. I just have different ideas from most around here, even my own brothers. Can’t help that. Ma says I was cut from a different piece of cloth.”

“Well, if we could find you a bride who liked to sew, that would be just the ticket, now, wouldn’t it?” Cody bent over and slapped his knee, his laughter reverberating through the air.

Jake did his best not to groan aloud. “I really don’t think you need to be trying to find me a bride. Honestly, I—” Off in the distance a train whistle pierced the air. He paused and stepped off the track, knowing the 5:35 train to Amarillo would be through momentarily.

“Don’t give up just yet.” Cody stood aright and gave him a pensive stare. “I’m going to find you a bride if it’s the last thing I do. Consider it my life’s mission.”

“I really wish you would stop this ridiculous—”

“The Widow Baker is lookin’ for a husband.” Cody gave him a knowing look. “She told my mama just last Sunday after church that she’s itchin’ to be hitched.”

Jake kept walking. “She’s in her fifties. And do we really have to talk about this? I’m very happy being single.”

“Of course you are.” The look on Cody’s face shifted to one of sympathy. “What about Cassie Martin? She’s always taken a shine to you. Remember how she used to tease you back in school? And if I remember right, you played along. ’Course, she’s not as easy on the eyes as my Virginia, but if a fella squinted, I’m sure she’d be near to tolerable. I hear she’s a great cook. That has to work in her favor. Just focus on the circumference of her flapjacks, not her waistline.”

Jake groaned and continued walking away from the tracks. This was getting worse by the moment. “You and I both know that Cassie’s mama has been trying to marry her off to any fella who would look her way. And I’m not saying she’s not pretty, that’s not it. She’s just not…”

“Your type?” Cody hollered over the clacking of the approaching train. “Well maybe that’s the problem. Maybe you’re too picky. To hear your sisters-in-law tell it, they’ve brought dozens of girls around over the past couple years and you’ve turned up your nose at every one.”

“I’d like to change the subject now,” Jake called out.

Thankfully, the locomotive came barreling through, making so much racket that Cody’s response couldn’t be heard. Only when the caboose finally slipped off in the distance could Jake make out his words.

“No doubt you’re content to stay single. Still livin’ at home with Mama doin’ all the cookin’ and cleanin’. Sounds mighty tempting, I’ll admit.”

Ugh. Those were fighting words.

Only one problem—Jake didn’t have it in him right now to fight. What could he say in his own defense, anyway? His mother did cook and clean for him. She wouldn’t have it any other way. And sure, he’d talked about moving out of the main house for years, but every time he’d brought it up, her tears convinced him to stay. He didn’t blame her. Not really. Ever since Papa’s death two years ago, she’d been more dependent on Jake than ever. Much as he wanted to, if he started working on his own place, she would surely crumble. No, he’d stay put for now to make sure she was all right.

“Nothing wrong with being a mama’s boy.” Cody grinned. “You’re the youngest of five brothers and the last to leave the nest. Can’t blame her for doting on you.” Off he went on a tangent, talking about the pros and cons of a grown man living at home with his mother.

Jake bit his tongue and willed himself not to respond. If his best friend saw him as being tied to his mother’s apron strings, no doubt everyone else in town did too. Once again, he wished everyone in Groom would keep their thoughts and opinions to themselves.

“One of these days, a pretty gal’s gonna come along and convince you there’s a whole new world out there just waiting for you.” Cody paused and appeared to be thinking. “I speak from experience. Until I met Virginia, I had no plans to marry and settle down. You of all people should remember how much I loved playing the rowdy bachelor.”

Jake remembered, all right. And the fact that Cody had been won over by the love of a well-bred girl from the East was nothing short of miraculous. The older ladies in town had pretty much written him off as husband material because of his wild and woolly ways. Virginia Harrison had calmed him down and then some. Cody hadn’t missed a Sunday service in nearly four months now. Talk about a changed man.

“Speaking of my bride-to-be, I hear she stopped by your place this morning with her maid of honor in tow.” Cody grinned. “What did you think of Amaryllis, anyway? She’s a pretty girl, isn’t she? And she came all the way from New York to be in the wedding. What do you make of that highfalutin way she talks? I can’t make heads ’ner tails of it, but I hear tell it’s citified.”

“Very.” Jake shrugged. “And to answer your question, she seemed nice enough. Didn’t really pay much attention to her, to be honest.”

“So I heard. Virginia said you slipped out the back door just minutes after they arrived. What was so important down at the station that you couldn’t wait five minutes to meet a pretty lady who came all that way?”

Jake shook his head. Looked like this conversation wouldn’t be ending anytime soon. And what could he say to turn things around, really? That he wasn’t interested in any of the girls he’d met thus far, or that matchmaking was a primeval form of entertainment for the town’s married women? That God was going to have to split the heavens open and add the backdrop of a heavenly choir when the right gal happened by?

It sounded ludicrous, but Jake couldn’t help how he felt about the matter. Besides, what would be the point of marrying some woman who didn’t suit him just because folks talked him into it? Likely he’d get fifty-plus years of agony out of the deal. Or worse, a pretense of a relationship. No thank you. He’d seen that happen with his uncle Leo and aunt Bets. He’d wait for the real deal, thank you very much.

And if the real deal never came along…well, that would be all right too.

Chapter Two

Searching for the perfect place to settle down and raise a family? Look no further than the scenic Texas Panhandle. In this breathtaking slice of heaven on earth, night skies are so clear and bright you can practically reach out and snatch the stars with your hand. Majestic canyons run so deep they’ll draw the breath right out of you as you gaze down at the rivers running through them. And those wide-open plains! Why, there’s no greater spot in the modern-day Wild West for an adventurer to settle down and kick off his boots. Folks from Dalhart to Amarillo to Wichita Falls will welcome you with open arms and a genuine “Howdy.” So, what’s keepin’ you away, friends? Head to the far northwestern tip of Texas today for the adventure of a lifetime. Tell ’em Tex sent you.
—“Tex” Morgan, reporting for the
Panhandle Primer

Anne smoothed her gloves between her fingers, agonizing over how stained they’d gotten between Denver and Amarillo. So much for propriety. A proper Denver socialite would never be seen in public with soiled gloves.

“Denver socialite, indeed,” she whispered as she gave the once white gloves a final glance. Those days were long gone, and she’d better get used to it.

Looking out the grimy train window at the miles and miles of barren plains did little to lift her mood. “Thank goodness we’ll be in Dallas by tomorrow afternoon. I’m going a little stir-crazy.” Anne flashed what she hoped would look like a comforting smile in the direction of her two younger sisters. “I feel like I’ve eaten nothing but soot for the past forty-eight hours. It’s going to be the death of me.”

Little Kate looked up from the book she’d been reading, her precious blue eyes brimming as she appeared to be pondering that last phrase. “W–what did you say, Annie?” the youngster whispered, a lone tear trickling over the edge of her lashes. “Something about dying?”

At once Anne wished she could take back her words. How careless they’d been. “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just a silly expression.”

“I see.” The seven-year-old rubbed the back of her hand across her cheek and turned her attention to the train window, whispering, “It’s just a silly expression.”

Anne released a slow breath, wishing she knew a way to make this right. Her younger sisters had been through enough pain already. Why did she add to it with such thoughtless words? Anne turned her attention to ten-year-old Emily. “Still reading that tourist paper you picked up at the train station in Amarillo?”

“Yes, and it’s wonderful!” Emily’s eyes widened as she clutched the paper to her chest. “Oh, Annie, do we
have
to go to Dallas? Can’t we stay in the Panhandle forever?”

“Whyever would we want to do that?” Anne pointed through the dirty glass. “As you can see, there is not much to recommend this area to those of us accustomed to Denver’s beautiful snowcapped mountains. Best I can tell, no one settles here anyway. I’ve never seen such barrenness.”

“Oh, but you’re not seeing all of it.” Emily rose and handed Anne the newspaper then wriggled her way into the spot next to her. “At least, not the way Tex Morgan describes it in this tourist paper.”

“Tex Morgan?” Anne stifled a laugh. What sort of fellow called himself Tex?

“He’s a reporter, and a really good one too. Read this and then you’ll know what you’re missing. It sounds…breathtaking!”

“Breathtaking, eh?” Anne took the paper and began to read. Several lines into the over-the-top description of the Texas Panhandle, she looked up and sighed. “Wild West, indeed. How do folks come up with such nonsense?”

“It’s not nonsense,” Emily said. “And I would give my left arm to write for the paper like Tex Morgan does. To be a reporter for a Texas newspaper would be…splendiferous.”

“Splendiferous?” Anne chuckled. “Have you taken to memorizing the dictionary now?”

“Yes.” Emily sighed, and a dreamy-eyed expression took over. “I need to learn all the words I can if I’m going to be a famous writer. My vocabulary needs to grow expo…exponen…”

“Exponentially?”

“Yes.” Emily grinned. “Exponentially.”

“Well, I must say, your stories are much better written than this….” Anne wanted to add “piece of drivel” but didn’t. Instead, she continued reading until she finished the article then folded the paper and handed it back to her sister. “These Texans are mighty proud of their state, aren’t they? And it’s clear they love a tall tale.”

“I love them too.” Emily sighed and a faraway look came over her. “Papa used to tell the best stories, didn’t he, Annie? I miss him so much.” The youngster’s eyes filled with tears and she turned her face to the window.

Anne did her best not to sigh aloud. Their father had told some rather majestic tales over the years. He’d whisked away his three daughters on a whimsical cloud with some of those fanciful stories of his. Then again, she’d needed to be whisked away. Ever since Mama’s death five years ago, those make-believe stories had brought comfort, offering a form of escape. And now that Papa was gone, too…

No. She wouldn’t think about sad things today. Who had time, anyway? Better to think practically. Someone had to, and she was the only logical choice. No point in keeping her head in the clouds like Emily tended to do. Not when there was so much work to be done right here on earth.

Anne fussed with the tiny gold cross she wore on a chain around her neck. It was the only piece of her mother that she could still touch with her own hands. And though Anne struggled to hang onto the faith she’d once held dear, at least the little cross brought some degree of comfort.

Another glance out the window revealed a couple of tumbleweeds rolling across the plains. Anne watched them, feeling like a kindred spirit. She knew what it felt like to be tossed around by an invisible wind. And she also knew the sense of desperation in not knowing where one might end up.

Lord, I trust You, but…

She didn’t finish the sentence. Papa used to say the only “buts” were the ones left behind when a man finished a good cigar. She could almost picture him now, seated in the drawing room, smoking one of his favorite El Rey del Mundo cigars and sipping a glass of brandy. Or two. Or three.

There’s no brandy in heaven.

The words flitted through her mind, followed by,
You don’t even know Papa’s in heaven anyway, so what does it matter?

Just as quickly, she chided herself for dwelling on the negative. No doubt Papa was standing at the pearly gates this very moment, sharing one of his tall tales in an attempt to get Saint Peter to open them up. One day she would know for sure if he’d made it inside. Papa usually managed to get what he wanted. For now, the possibility brought some comfort.

Thankfully, Kate’s voice rang out, interrupting her thoughts. “Do we really have to stay with Uncle Bertrand?” The youngster’s nose wrinkled, signifying her disgust with the idea.

Emily looked up from her paper, and her eyes narrowed into slits. She tossed back her dark curls with exaggerated flair. “I would rather be shackled in chains in a dank and dreary prison cell with no food or water than to live in a mansion with that hideous man.” She released an exaggerated sigh. “Toss me in a dungeon and throw away the key, but please do
not
make me go to Dallas, Annie!”