Texas Born (45 page)

The tears blurred her vision. Then suddenly
she blinked them back and raised her head proudly, holding her chin
erect. Right now, she couldn't afford to cry. She couldn't afford
the luxury of showing her emotions. She had to be strong. Above
all, she couldn't show her misery—not when the girls needed
comforting.

She placed her hand on her breast. Zaccheus
was in there, inside her heart. There he would live forever. And he
would live as well in the child she was carrying.

She reached up and felt the cool crystal
smoothness of the pansy charm around her neck. He was there too. In
fact, everywhere she looked, she could see evidence of him. And she
would keep it that way. She would keep everything of his just as it
was.

Zaccheus might be gone, but their love would
never die. It would live forever.

Elizabeth-Anne could see Regina waving to her
from the front of the Good Eats Café. She waved back from the buggy
seat and smiled for the first time in weeks.

Thank heaven for the girls and all my
responsibilities
, she thought
. During the hectic hours of
each day there is little time to stop and consider just how much I
miss Zaccheus.

Although he was gone, her workday didn't
change. She kept to her routine, getting up every morning as usual
before dawn and riding out to the construction site—from which she
was now returning. It was not the same without him. These morning
inspections were when she missed him the most . . . and at bedtime.
Her bed felt so terribly empty without him beside her.

She drew to a stop in front of the café and
looked down at Regina. Yes, she thought again, I've got so much to
be grateful for.

Her momentary reverie over, she started to
ease her weight down off the buggy. Regina held out one hand to
help, and she took it. The moment her boots touched the ground, she
rumpled Regina's hair and frowned. 'Why so sullen?' she asked.
'Charlotte- Anne been giving you trouble?'

'No.' Regina shrugged, looked down at her
feet, and kicked at a pebble. Then she squinted back up at her.
'It's nothing I can't take care of. You know how Charlotte-Anne is.
Pushy.'

Elizabeth-Anne couldn't help laughing; it
felt good.

Regina drew herself up with hurt dignity.
'Besides, she's learning. I won't let her step all over me, and I'm
not going to put up with those airs of hers either.'

'I'm sure you won't,' Elizabeth-Anne said
with mock solemnity. 'Now, how about giving your mother a kiss?'
She held out her cheek.

Regina hopped up on tiptoe and pecked her
awkwardly on the cheek, then fell into step beside her as they went
inside. 'Guess what, Mama? We served twenty-seven breakfasts
already.'

Elizabeth-Anne stopped in her tracks.
'Twenty- seven! But that's . . .' She let out an impressed whistle.
'That's our best showing yet!'

Regina nodded happily. 'Comes to a little
less than seven dollars.' Suddenly she slapped the palm of her hand
across her forehead. 'Yikes!'

Elizabeth-Anne stared at her. 'What is
it?'

'Rosa sent me out to bring in some more
wood.'

Elizabeth-Anne smiled as Regina hurried off.
She was proud that her daughters were such bright, hardworking
credits to her. She was certain that each one of them would go far
in this world.

With that comforting thought, she went around
the side, opened the screen door, and entered the sizzling kitchen
of the Good Eats Café. A blast of hot, humid air hit her squarely
in the face. She let the screen door bang shut and lifted her crisp
white apron down off the hook beside it. Quickly she looped it
around her neck and reached behind her, tying it in the small of
her spine.

Rosa was standing in front of the big stove,
frying eggs and bacon. The moment she heard the door banging shut,
she glanced over her shoulder. '
'Buenos dias, senora
. '

'Buenos dias
, Rosa,' Elizabeth-Anne
returned. 'Busy morning?'

'Busy!' Rosa inflated her cheeks and let the
air out slowly. 'It's a real busy day! I don't think we've had no
day like today. Never before. We serve so many breakfasts, you soon
get thousands of dollars!'

Elizabeth-Anne laughed. 'Oh, Rosa. I only
wish that were true.' She regarded the big Mexican woman with
affection. Rosa was a jewel, and as hardworking as they came. She
was short and heavyset, with a cheerful moon face and gleaming
black hair around which she wore flowered handkerchiefs tied like a
turban. Tiny gold loops dangled from her pierced lobes. Due to the
stifling heat of the kitchen, her embroidered off-white blouse was
unbuttoned as far down as decency would allow, and her sleeves were
rolled up her thick, powerful arms . . . arms strengthened from a
lifetime of lifting cast-iron pots and heavy skillets. Her tawny
skin gleamed with perspiration.

Elizabeth-Anne started to clear the table as
Rosa slid a spatula under the rashers of bacon and flipped them
over. Suddenly the swinging doors leading to the dining room burst
open and Elizabeth-Anne could hear the sound of voices and cutlery
and china. She turned around. Rebecca had come flying in.

'Oh,
Ma
-ma!' Rebecca wailed
dramatically. 'My feet are
killing
me!'

'Then take a break, darling, and let
Charlotte-Anne take over.'

'Charlotte-Anne!' Rebecca narrowed her eyes.
'She's still in bed.
Claims
she's ailing.'

Elizabeth-Anne raised her eyebrows. 'Did she
say what's wrong with her?'

'Noooo . . . just that she's unwell.' Rebecca
glanced in Rosa's direction and lowered her voice to a whisper.
'Rosa went up and took a look at her earlier. Says there's nothing
wrong with her.'

Rosa's acute hearing had caught the whisper.
'No, there isn't,' she scoffed. She turned around from the stove
and waved her spatula angrily. 'She likes us to think she's
delicate, but she's fine, you mark my words. Meanwhile, Regina and
Rebecca have been serving everybody alone.
Again
. '

Elizabeth-Anne sighed. 'I'll go upstairs and
check on her in a little while.'

'Mama?' Rebecca said quietly.

'What is it, dear?'

'Maybe . . . maybe there really
is
something wrong with Charlotte-Anne. I don't mind serving for her
too. Really I don't.'

Elizabeth-Anne hugged her daughter. 'I know
you don't, dear.'

'Maybe Charlotte-Anne should see Dr. Purris
again.'

'Maybe she should,' Elizabeth-Anne mused
aloud. 'She
has
been feeling unwell an awful lot
lately.'

At the stove, Rosa rolled her eyes
skyward.

'Well, I'd better go make my rounds in the
dining room before everyone's gone,' Elizabeth-Anne said. By reflex
she smoothed her hands over her apron and patted her hair. She
considered greeting her customers personally and getting their
opinions on the food and the service to be of paramount importance.
A lot of the café's success, she believed, was due to the personal
attention each and every guest received. People liked being made to
feel welcome and at home.

'I start lunch soon,' Rosa said. 'We will
have pork chops, saffron rice, an' corn. We got a good deal on
pork. José bring later. Dinner will be boiled beef, cabbage, corn
muffins, and parsley potatoes.' She looked at Elizabeth-Anne
questioningly. 'Is okay?'

Elizabeth-Anne clapped the woman on the
shoulder. 'It all sounds wonderful, Rosa,' she said, then pushed
open the swinging doors that led into the dining room. Smiling
pleasantly, she started making her rounds.

At the table closest to her, she saw the
thin, pinched face of Hugh McElwee as he gingerly picked at his
scrambled eggs with a fork. McElwee was the publisher of the
Quebeck Weekly Gazette and he picked at his food just as he picked
at the words in the articles he published . . . slowly, as if there
was something distasteful about them. A confirmed bachelor, he
lived across the street in the Hale Rooming House. A victim of
myopia, he always seemed confused by what went on around him.

'Good morning, Mr. McElwee,' Elizabeth-Anne
said cheerfully. 'Is everything to your liking?'

He seemed startled to hear her and looked up
sharply. 'Oh, good morning, Mrs. Hale,' he said in his high-pitched
voice. He smiled and nodded. 'Oh, yes, yes. Everything's fine.
Fine.'

Elizabeth-Anne leaned close into his ear and
lowered her voice confidentially. 'I'd like to speak with you alone
tomorrow, Mr. McElwee, if that's all right with you. You see, I've
decided to change some things around here. Starting next week,
instead of serving only one entree for lunch or dinner, we'll have
dishes for our guests to choose from. Just like in big-city
restaurants.'

He nodded somberly. 'My, yes . . . that is
news. It will make a good article.'

'Fine. We'll have lunch together tomorrow and
I'll tell you all about it. It will be my treat.'

'Oh!' He looked pleased. 'Thank you. Is
twelve o'clock all right?'

'Twelve o'clock it is.'

'Good morning, Mrs. Hale!' a voice called
out, and she turned to face the Byrd sisters, whose cottage she and
Zaccheus had rented. They were seated in their favorite corner.

Elizabeth-Anne inclined her head. 'Good
morning, Miss Byrd.' She acknowledged the other sister by inclining
her head again: 'Good morning, Miss Byrd.' For some silly reason,
she always felt she had to divide her attention and conversation
evenly between them. They had that kind of effect on one.

The first sister set down her cup of tea.
'Samantha and I were wondering—'

'Don't take any heed, Mrs. Hale,' the second
sister said in quick apology. She glared accusingly across the
table at her identical twin and wagged her spindly finger
admonishingly. 'That's
not
nice, Samantha,' she said
indignantly. 'You know very well that
you're
Samantha and
that
I'm
Susannah.'

'Don't listen to her, Mrs. Hale,' the other
sister said severely. 'Samantha is always trying to play practical
jokes on people. It's tiresome. Really it is.' The sigh of
exasperation which followed sounded brittle.

Elizabeth-Anne shook her head and smiled. The
dour-looking Byrd sisters were the town pranksters, always in good
humor, often cloaking their pranks with a veneer of righteous
tight-lipped severity. They seemingly never tired of trying to
confuse people. Although Elizabeth-Anne had long ago learned to
tell them apart, she still pretended she couldn't. 'If you don't
stop this foolishness,' she warned, 'one of these days you're going
to get the wrong names on your tombstones.'

'You really think so?' they chorused in
delight.

'I do.' Elizabeth-Anne nodded. Then she
changed the subject smoothly. 'Is the food to your
satisfaction?'

'The food?' A shocked expression of disbelief
crossed one spinster's face. 'If we wanted to eat well, why, we'd
cook at home! Right, Susannah?'

'Right, Samantha.'

'Aha! I caught you!' Elizabeth-Anne cried,
wagging a finger. 'You've just changed identities again.

A moment ago, you were Samantha, and you were
Susannah.'

'Good heavens, no. You're the one who's
confused. Isn't that right, Susannah?'

'Indeed it is, Samantha.'

Shaking her head in bemusement,
Elizabeth-Anne moved on around the large room.

'Dr. Lusk. Dr. Purris.' Elizabeth-Anne
acknowledged the town's two medical men, the dentist and the
doctor.

Both doctors gripped the edge of the table
and started to rise, but Elizabeth-Anne quickly waved them back
into their seats. 'I'm delighted to see you both here again this
morning. Is everything to your satisfaction?'

'Yes, indeed,' Dr. Purris said.

'Absolutely,' Dr. Lusk added.

'Well, enjoy your breakfasts.' As she started
to turn away, Elizabeth-Anne hesitated.
Perhaps I should ask Dr.
Purris to come upstairs after he finishes eating to examine
Charlotte-Anne,
she thought. Then she decided against it. First
she would see for herself whether a doctor was indeed warranted.
And since Rosa believed her daughter's illness to be the result of
hypochondria at best, or contrived at worst, she would sit down
with Charlotte-Anne and explain to her that doctors' bills, unless
absolutely necessary, were to be avoided at all costs.

'Can we be of any help, Mrs. Hale?' Dr.
Purris asked curiously.

Elizabeth-Anne shook her head and smiled. 'Oh
. . . excuse me. I was just thinking of something . . . no,
everything's fine. But it's kind of you to ask. . . .'

But everything was not fine, she discovered
at that moment.

'Coyote Building Suppliers was sold yesterday
afternoon,' someone behind her was saying. 'Tex and Jennifer
dropped by the office without warning and had me draw up the
papers. Didn't even send for me to come out to the ranch.
Imagine.'

'Hmmm, yes. Quite out of character for them.
Sold, you said?'

'Well, not really sold. The sale was just a
legal formality. For some reason, Tex signed the whole kit and
caboodle over to his wife. For a dollar.'

An icy dread froze Elizabeth-Anne to the spot
as the words sank in. Jenny now owned Coyote Building Suppliers?
Was it possible? Every muscle in her body suddenly seemed to ache.
Without even looking behind her, she knew to whom the voices
belonged. Eblin Keyes, the lawyer, and Jesse Atkinson, the
president of Quebeck Savings and Loan. Both men were in Tex
Sexton's employ.

Without moving her head, she glanced numbly
around the dining room. She still had people to greet, but she
couldn't. After the bombshell she'd just overheard, her feet
wouldn't move.