Texas Born (31 page)

'It's only your nerves,' Elender whispered
gently. Then she smiled reassuringly as she stood back to study
Elizabeth-Anne. She nodded to herself with satisfaction. 'Don't
worry so much. Mr. Hale is a very nice young gentleman, and he
doesn't bite. Now, take off your hat and come out into the parlor.
I've made a nice bowl of punch.'

'Oh, Auntie!' Hesitantly Elizabeth-Anne took
off her hat and held it in both hands.

Elender wagged a finger at her. 'Don't you
'Oh, Auntie' me,' she warned. 'It's a little too late for that.
You're not a silly tongue-tied schoolgirl any longer. You're a
young lady, and you must act like one.' She tucked a stray hair
back into Elizabeth-Anne's coiffure. 'There, you look perfect.' On
an impulse, she kissed Elizabeth-Anne's cheek; then she took her
firmly by the arm.

Reluctantly Elizabeth-Anne allowed herself to
be led out into the dim hall.

'Don't be so stiff!' Elender hissed over her
shoulder. 'Relax!' Then she smiled with amusement. 'I do declare.
You're as nervous as he is!'

'He's nervous too?' Elizabeth-Anne looked
surprised.

'He is. Now, in you float. Like a princess!'
Elender stepped aside, placed both hands in the small of

Elizabeth-Anne's back, and gave her a little
push. Elizabeth-Anne stumbled into the little parlor.

The scene that greeted her would be forever
ingrained in her mind. In the time it had taken her to get dressed,
Elender had transformed the parlor. A white lace tablecloth covered
the dining-room table, and she noticed that Elender had even run
across the street to the rooming house to pluck flowers: they were
arranged in cut-glass vases and seemed to be everywhere. The entire
room was a riot of fragrant colors. On the sideboard stood the
cut-glass punch bowl and a chocolate cake.

And there was Zaccheus.

The instant Elizabeth-Anne came into the
room, he hopped to his feet, a bouquet of daisies in his hand. His
Adam's apple seemed to bob nervously, and somehow that, more than
anything else, made her feel instantly at ease. She put down her
hat, gracefully crossed the carpet, and held out one gloved hand.
'Mr. Hale,' she said formally. 'I'm . . . I'm honored by your
visit.'

'I thank you for allowing me to come.' He
took her hand formally and held it. They both seemed startled by
the invisible spark that ricocheted back and forth between them.
After a moment Elizabeth-Anne withdrew her hand. 'Please, won't you
take a seat?' she offered.

He held out the bouquet. 'These are for
you.'

'Thank you,' she said softly, her cheeks
flushing pink. 'They're lovely.' For a moment she gazed down at the
flowers. Then she gazed back up at him. 'Would you please excuse me
while I put these in water? Please . . . do sit.'

He sat down and she hurried out into the
hall, nearly colliding with Elender, who winked conspiratorially—
she already had a vase filled with water in her hand.
Elizabeth-Anne quickly arranged the daisies, took the vase, and
hurried back into the parlor. She placed the vase on top of the
spinet piano and stepped back to study the effect.

'I'm afraid bringing you flowers is like
bringing coals to Newcastle,' Zaccheus said, looking around.

Elizabeth-Anne laughed. 'Not at all. One can
never have enough flowers. And I treasure these the most.'

As she took a seat opposite him, he started
to rise politely.

'If I might be so bold,' he said softly, 'you
look very lovely.'

'Thank you,' she murmured graciously. 'Would
you like some punch?'

He gestured to the marble-topped mahogany end
table beside him. 'Miss Clowney already served me some.'

'So I see.' She smiled and clasped her hands.
'A slice of cake, then?'

'Perhaps a little later.'

Out in the hall Elender permitted herself a
small smile. It was going even better than she had hoped. She
smoothed her long gray skirt with the flat of her hands and went
into the parlor. 'Elizabeth-Anne can play the piano,' she said as
she took a seat, 'and she plays beautifully. Since the show at the
nickelodeon doesn't start for another hour, perhaps you would like
her to play a few selections for us?' She gazed inquiringly at
Zaccheus.

'I'm sure Mr. Hale doesn't want to hear me
play,' Elizabeth-Anne begged off demurely.

'But I do!' Zaccheus protested
enthusiastically. 'Please! I'd be honored!'

'Well, if you insist,' Elizabeth-Anne
murmured.

'I do,' he said quickly.

Elizabeth-Anne rose and slowly went behind
the piano. Scraping the stool forward, she sat down and began
playing a Chopin sonata.

The afternoon fled by so quickly that it
seemed it was over before it had even begun. The hour in the parlor
seemed mere minutes. After the Chopin, Zaccheus begged her to play
more, and she played the piano with a surety she had never known
before. Then she and Zaccheus went to the nickelodeon and saw the
fifth installment of a continuing serial—one reel a week was shown.
Afterward they walked up Main Street, and he bought them both an
ice-cream cone at the general store.

'It's good.' Elizabeth-Anne licked her
strawberry ice cream carefully so it wouldn't drip down and soil
her gloves.

He smiled.

'Auntie doesn't allow us to have ice cream
often. She says it's so we won't get too spoiled.'

'She's very wise, I'm sure.'

'Probably.' Elizabeth-Anne frowned. 'But
sometimes we wish we were more spoiled. Especially Jenny.' She
looked sideways at him. 'She doesn't like me at all, you know.'

'Oh?' He kept his face impassive.

Elizabeth-Anne shook her head. 'It goes way
back to when we were children and Auntie took me in. Jenny thought
I was trying to usurp her place.'

'She still holds that against you?' he asked
in surprise.

'I'm afraid so.' Elizabeth-Anne sighed and
frowned. 'What she doesn't seem to realize is that I'm
not
a
threat to her, not in any way. But it's difficult for her to accept
that.'

They walked in silence for a while. After
they'd gone a block, he spoke hesitantly. 'You know, it's
curious.'

'What is?'

'Somehow, although I've just met you, it's as
if I've known you for a long time.'

She smiled slightly.

'I mean . . . I'm not trying to embarrass
you, but I feel . . . what I mean to say is, you make me feel . . .
comfortable. I think you're very nice.'

She tightened her lips bitterly. 'So does
everyone else.
Nice
. ' She scowled. 'Everyone always thinks
I'm so '
nice
.' 'Nice' describes any number of things. It's a
greedy word, a safe word. The plainest thing in the world can be
'nice.' '

'That's not how I meant it,' he said quickly,
nonplussed by her sudden vehemence. 'What I meant to say was that.
. . you're
special
. That's what I meant.'

'Thank you,' she said stiffly.

There was another prolonged silence, during
which he searched his mind for something to say. 'Do you like it
here in Quebeck?' he asked finally.

She frowned. 'Well enough, I suppose. But
sometimes . . .' She stopped walking and turned to him swiftly, a
flush coloring her face. 'I know this sounds silly, but eventually,
what I'd really like to do is move to a big city.'

'Any in particular?'

'No, not really. But I'll never forget Auntie
telling me about this hotel she once stayed at in Brownsville.

I made her tell me that story over and over.
Other children like fairy tales, I suppose, but somehow, that hotel
was my castle.' She gave a little laugh.

'Maybe you'll get a chance to see it
someday.'

'Oh, no! I wouldn't want to ever see it.'

'But why not?'

'Because I've built it up so much in my mind
that I know it doesn't at all resemble what Auntie described. I've
let it grow completely out of proportion. The real hotel would be a
vast disappointment to me.' Elizabeth-Anne's eyes focused on
something invisible in the distance. 'The Hotel Garber,' she said
slowly. 'That was the name of it.' She shook her head as if to
clear it, and gazed up at him. 'Have you ever stayed there?'

He shook his head. 'Can't say I have.'

'Well, anyway, Auntie and Jenny stayed there
right before I met them. And ever since, it's been Auntie's dream
to own a grand hotel. But it'll never happen, and she knows it.
Still, she insists that having a dream is very healthy.'

'I couldn't agree more. And you . . . you'd
like to own a grand hotel?'

'Oh, yes!' Elizabeth-Anne's eyes sparkled
with excitement and her words came in such a quick rush that they
tripped over one another. 'I really like the rooming house and the
Good Eats Café, you know. I like meeting people and making them
feel at home. But from what Auntie's told me about the Hotel Garber
. . . well, that's what I'd really like.' She smiled and added
soberly, 'Of course, it'll never happen.'

'Don't ever say that!' he said sharply.

She glanced at him queerly. 'Why?'

'Because,' he said earnestly, 'nothing in the
world is impossible. Dreams are . . . well, doorways to reality,
actually. I've had dreams before, and . . . and they started to
become reality, but . . His voice trailed off.

'But what?' She gazed at him intently.

He looked away. 'I messed them up. I didn't
keep them in focus. I let other influences veer me off-course and
change them.' He sighed deeply for a moment. Then he brightened.
'I've stayed at lots of hotels, you know.'

'Really!' Her face lit up.

He nodded.

'Tell me about them!' she said urgently.
'Please, everything you can remember!'

He laughed. 'That would take days. Weeks,
probably.'

'In that case,' she said softly, 'I suppose
I'll have to listen to you for weeks.'

'I'm afraid you'd get bored.'

'Oh, no!' she vowed. 'Never! And you?' she
asked. 'All you've done so far is ask me questions and make me talk
about myself. What about you? What do you want to do?'

'I'm not sure. I think . . . I think I'd like
to stay on here. If I can find a job.'

She looked at him soberly. 'I'm afraid there
aren't many jobs available around here.'

'I know that. But I'll try to find one.'

'I heard you sell Bibles.'

He grinned. 'Word sure gets around fast.'

'It's a small town . . . and
everyone
already has Bibles.'

'I know that. So I'll have to find something
else.

Something where I don't have to travel. So I
can stay put for a while.'

She looked surprised. 'You don't like to
travel?'

'I do, but I've been on the road for too long
now. It's time I settled down.'

'I'll ask Auntie about any available jobs,'
she promised. 'If anyone knows of any, it's her. The Good Eats Café
is the best grapevine in town. You wouldn't believe how people talk
while they eat. I'll keep my ears open too.'

'I'd be grateful.'

They walked in silence for a while, and when
they reached the end of Main Street, they turned around and slowly
retraced their way in the direction from which they had come.

Zaccheus' heart was light. It was just as he
had thought. Elizabeth-Anne was not at all like Phoebe or Jenny.
She was shy but warm, and underneath all the benign surface traits
she was brimming with dreams and ambitions. He barely knew her, but
he felt extremely lucky. Somehow he knew she was just right for
him. Maybe he hadn't lost his own dreams entirely . . . perhaps
together they could forge them into reality.

On sudden impulse he reached out and boldly
took her hand in his. As his fingers closed over her gloved hand,
she tensed, and when she looked up at him, her eyes held a
peculiarly pale, faraway look. Then she seemed to relax, and she
smiled shyly.

But there was nothing shy about the emotions
the touch of his hand aroused within her. She felt in the midst of
an upheaval. Her stomach was trembling, aflutter with a thousand
invisible butterfly wings, yet she felt an intense physical
awakening, a soaring such as she had never before experienced.

But she kept these powerful emotions well in
check. She hoped that to the casual observer she seemed as quietly
withdrawn as ever.

'Seems like you lost the new roomer,'
Laurenda Pitcock said in a dry voice. She nodded with her chin.

She and Jenny were standing in the purple
shadows of the alley beside the Good Eats Café. It was break time
for Jenny, the halfway point between serving lunch and dinner, and
Laurenda had dropped by for a visit.

Jenny watched through narrowed eyes as
Zaccheus and Elizabeth-Anne walked slowly toward them, holding
hands while engrossed in conversation.

They 're sure being friendly
, she
thought bitterly.
And that expression on Elizabeth-Anne's face .
. . it's one I've never seen before. There's a glow, a vitality
about her
. . .

Laurenda grinned. 'Looks like you played your
cards all wrong, Jen. He seems to like the quiet type.'

Jenny whirled around. 'Shut up, pie face!'
she hissed fiercely. 'I didn't want him anyway! I sent him
packing!'

'Sure you did. First you fell all over him,
and now you suddenly can't stand him.' There was a note of mocking
laughter in Laurenda's voice. 'Face it, Jen. You lost him.'

'So?' Jenny clenched her fists and stood
there stiffly. 'Who said I ever wanted him?'

'It's okay, Jenny. There'll be other men.
Rich men, not just some two-bit Bible salesman. He'll be here
awhile and then he'll be gone. You mark my words. You'll forget all
about him.'

'Sure,' Jenny said absently.

'Besides,' Laurenda said cagily, 'look at it
this way. If you can't have him, why should anybody else?'

Jenny stared at her. 'What do you mean?' she
asked slowly.