TEXAS ROADS (A Miller's Creek Novel Book 1) (2 page)

The rain ceased as they pulled into town, and she sat up straighter at the sight of country cottages lining the street. Homey. A little tired-looking, but nothing a fresh coat of paint couldn’t fix. Tree branches arched across the road to create a living canopy. The sun, sandwiched between cloud and earth, changed the leaf-clinging raindrops to diamonds.

And children everywhere she looked. They splashed in puddles and chased each other across spring green lawns, their shouts and laughter a symphony of careless joy. So
Mayberry RFD.

The hunger for home haunted her, and a familiar ache settled over her heart like ancient dust. “Unbelievable.” Dani whispered the word and relaxed into the seat. The fear of never finding a home clung to her with razor-sharp talons, but she pushed it aside and glanced at Steve, his face impassive.

In one deft movement, he jerked the pickup into a parking lot and came to a whiplash stop. She avoided eye contact and allowed the sign above the door to capture her interest. B & B Hardware? Dani peered to her right where two lanes of gas pumps stood, and a smile wiggled onto her face. A hardware-store-slash-gas-station. Only in a small town.

She plucked a hundred-dollar bill from her purse and offered it to him. “I appreciate—”

“Keep it.” Steve spat out the words and leaned away, his mouth a taut slash.

Surely he needed the money. His ragged jeans and this rattletrap he drove suggested as much. She squeezed her eyebrows together. For whatever reason, he wasn’t about to take the money, so she stuffed the bill back in her wallet, shrugged off the coat, and handed it to him.

“Thanks for the ride.” With a release of the door she lowered herself to the ground.

Without looking her direction, the cowboy put the truck in reverse, barely allowing her time to shut the door. As he tore out of the parking lot, his rear wheels spewed gravel.

Dani sucked in air and blew it out in a gush. Thank goodness that was over. Now to call Aunt Beth and end this nightmare. She faced the store, her heart pounding like a child on the first day of school.

Chapter Two

S
teve pressed the accelerator and spun out of the parking lot. Rich, snooty city women worked their way under his skin quicker than a tick on a dog. He’d seen enough of them to make him gun-shy for eternity. With a grunt he slumped against the dingy cloth seat. Every fifty-something woman in the county tried to hook him up with that type of she-cat. Even around his own sister a man wasn’t safe. Trish had joined the attack months ago, bringing in old college buddies in an effort to get him hitched. Just because the big four-oh loomed in front of him like a black hole didn’t mean he needed a wife.

His attention shifted back to the blond city woman he’d just let off, looking down her nose at his town, as if Miller’s Creek fell short of her high-falutin’ standards. He leaned forward, crossed his arms on the leather-wrapped steering wheel, and let out a disgusted snort. And people wondered why he’d never married. No thanks. He’d gladly live out his days in blissful bachelorhood. Besides that, he’d already had his chance at love.

The rumble in his stomach raised his eyes to the dashboard clock. Almost supper time and behind schedule, thanks to the run-in with that Dallas prima donna. Mama Beth would be worried. The older woman practically raised him, and he’d learned not to be late, especially for her mouth-watering meals. He punched the gas pedal with a plan to phone her once he reached the ranch. Then he’d clean up and come back to town for supper.

A few minutes later, Steve braked to a stop in front of the small frame and brick house he’d called home for ten years, one of several standing behind the main ranch house. It might be small, but at least it was private. He slammed the truck door, breathed in the rain-cleansed air, and let it out in a puff of satisfaction. Nothing like coming home after a long, hard day of work. Manual labor always helped him relax. Sam, his golden retriever, stretched and yawned. Tail a-wag, Sam padded toward him, a doggy grin on his face.

He knelt and ran his fingers through the dog’s soft fur. “Hey, Sam, old boy, how are you?” The gray around Sam’s nose caught his attention. More signs of old age. None of them were getting younger, and reminders surrounded him—in the mirror, his parents, Mama Beth—and especially in Miller’s Creek.

“Come on, buddy, let’s get you some grub.”

The dry chunks of food rattled the bag and then clanked against Sam’s metal dish. He gave the dog one more scratch behind the ears before he headed to the kitchen. Just as he reached for the phone, it rang. Steve snatched the phone to his ear. “Hi, Mama Beth.”

Her familiar cackle brought a smile to his face. “How’d you know it was me?”

“’Cause no one else calls this time of night.”

The laughter stopped short. “Hmm, we need to do something about that, don’t we?” She sounded determined.

Steve shifted his weight to the opposite foot. Great, Mama Beth had on her matchmaker hat again. Not what he wanted. He cleared his throat and redirected the conversation. “Sorry I’m late. I’ll be there as soon as I—”

“Actually, that’s why I called. I’m not quite ready myself. I’ll give you a ring later.”

“Okay. Bye.” He dropped the phone into place then scratched the stubble on his chin. What was she up to now?

* * *

Mama Beth lowered the phone then rubbed her arms, her thoughts focused on Steve. Something had to be done about that man’s lack of a social life. He might fool others, but he couldn’t fool her. She knew him too well. The long hours he put in as mayor of the town were just an attempt to fill the days and cover his loneliness. And marriage to Miller’s Creek was a sure-fire recipe for disappointment.

She moved to the front window of the old farmhouse to search for headlights. Finally after all these years, Dani was on her way for a visit, an answer to prayer. A prayer she’d almost given up on. The mahogany mantle clock chimed the hour, and her brows knitted. Dani should’ve been here an hour ago. Surely she hadn’t changed her mind.

Lightning slashed a scar across the sky, its jagged edges white-hot. She flinched at the following blast of thunder, while the old house rattled and trembled, a persistent prayer tumbling from her lips. “Lord, keep her safe.”

She turned and trained her gaze on keepsakes from the past, now perched on shelves Steve had built for her birthday. The cast iron horse Daddy gave her when she was a girl, the porcelain washbasin and pitcher which once belonged to Gramma Jo, the lace doily Mama crocheted. She trailed her fingers over its bumpy edges. These earthly treasures meant so much, but she’d trade them in a heartbeat to untangle this knotted mess in her life.

The rain started again, heavier than before, pinging against the tin roof until the sound escalated to a rowdy roar, bringing with it a reminder that her life had changed forever on a stormy night much like this one. Time-worn doubts surged to the surface and pounded against the wall of her heart, the familiar temptation so strong her breath caught in her throat.

Mama Beth squared her shoulders.
No.
She wouldn’t break the promise she’d made, no matter the cost. But where did that leave Dani? She deserved to know the truth.

* * *

A cowbell above Dani’s head clanked out her entrance into B & B Hardware, the stale smell of day-old coffee assaulting her nostrils. She shivered under the weight of the rain-soaked jacket and waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness inside the old store.

To her left, the worn oak floors led to an array of gardening tools, paint, and aluminum bins of assorted screws and nails. A smaller section of candy, chips, and canned goods lined the shelves to her right, an ancient soft drink cooler standing guard nearby. Beside the checkout stand near the middle of the store, a group of men congregated, their man-talk accented by guffaws and snorts. The conversation fizzled as she approached, the floor creaking beneath her, and like one giant organism they shifted away, gawking at her like she’d grown an extra head.

She flashed the man behind the counter her best smile. “Excuse me. Do you have a public restroom?” Her voice wavered as visions of the community outhouse invaded her mind.

The man said nothing, only stared, his mouth half open. Then he motioned with a jerk of his head toward a door at the left corner of the store, his eyes fixed on her face. Had she grown a wart on the end of her nose? Still shivering, she made her way to the back, trailed by the creepy silence.

A single bare light bulb hung in the dark and tiny poor-excuse-for-a-restroom. At least it looked clean. She closed the old wooden door, latched the hook, and moved to the mirror. One glance at her appearance elicited a wheezing gasp. Like a clump of overcooked noodles, her hair lay plastered to her head, and mascara rimmed the flesh beneath her eyes. No wonder the men in the store had stared and the cowboy had been on the verge of a laughing spree.

Dani grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser and used it to twist on the ancient tap. This first meeting with Aunt Beth was too important to look like a rogue clown. She set to work, attempting to remove the offensive black circles. After a vigorous scrubbing she stepped back to view the results. Hopeless. With her fingertips she attempted to rearrange her wet hair, but nothing helped.

Her stomach somersaulted as she released the door latch and marched back to the counter. Let them stare if they wanted and take pictures if they dared. She raised her chin to muster a semblance of dignity. “May I borrow your phone and phone book, please?”

“This a local call?” The man spoke with a slow monotone drawl.

Her fingers curled into tight balls. Fighting the urge to tell him she planned to call NASA, she slowed her breathing and replied calmly, “Yes. My car ran out of gas. I need to call my aunt to let her know I’m okay.”

One of the men spoke. “We’d be happy to get your car for you, ma’am.”

Yeah. Uh-huh. Like she’d trust her car to a bunch of local yokels she didn’t know. “Thanks, but I’ll take care of it later. Right now, I just want to call my aunt.”

The man behind the counter shoved the phone and directory across the worn Formica counter, while the men to her left nodded with whispers and nudges. The Miller’s Creek welcoming committee could use a lesson or two on manners. She cradled the phone between her head and shoulder, located her aunt’s number, and dialed. The phone beeped as she punched the key pad with shaky fingers.

“Hello?”

She released a grateful sigh. “Aunt Beth, this is Dani.”

“Thank goodness! Are you okay?” Her voice crackled through the phone.

Tears pricked Dani’s eyes. At least somebody cared. She coiled the phone cord around her finger and turned her back to the men. “Sorry to worry you, but I ran out of gas. I tried to call on my cell phone, but couldn’t get a signal.”

“Good gracious, how’d you get to town?”

“I walked part of the way, and then a man gave me a ride.”

“Where are you now?”

She glanced over her shoulder at the staring men. “I’m at a place called B & B Hardware.”

“Okay, here’s what you do. There’s a group of men…”

A frown puckered Dani’s forehead. How did she know?

“…tell them what happened, and they’ll take care of your car. I’ll be there in a few minutes to pick you up.”

“I told you she was kin to Mama Beth,” blared the man with the bright orange, pot-belly-stretched-out suspenders.

Dani pulled the receiver away from her ear. Mama Beth? They called her aunt Mama Beth? Whatever for? She hung up the phone and faced them.

A thin elderly man with kind eyes stepped forward and extended a hand, his voice a gentle Texas drawl. “I’m J. C. Watson, ma’am. Couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.”

Couldn’t help but eavesdrop? She raised her eyebrows, but held her tongue and shook his hand.

The rest of the men gathered around to introduce themselves, and J.C. spoke again. “Would you like for us to get your car?”

Her shoulders slumped as tension rolled off. Everything would be okay after all. “I’d be so grateful.” The keys. She’d almost forgotten. “But there’s, um . . . a slight problem. I-I locked my keys in the car.” Dani tensed, anticipating their laughter, but no one smiled or snickered.

“Zeke, call Ernie.” J. C. sprang to action, his tone suddenly business-like. “I’m sure he’ll have a way to unlock the car. I’ll get a gas can.”

She placed her hand on his arm and offered him an appreciative smile. “I’d be happy to pay you for your time and trouble.”

“Oh, no ma’am.” He ducked his head, his voice low. “That won’t be necessary.”

A couple of minutes later, a balding police officer with a prickly-looking moustache and bushy eyebrows entered the store. J. C. stepped up beside her. “Ernie, I’d like you to meet Mama Beth’s niece. This is Miss Dani.”

The officer, his expression warm and genuine, clasped her hand with a two-fisted squeeze. “Nice to meet you, ma’am. The whole town thinks the world of your aunt.”

Dani forced her gaze from his porcupine moustache to his gray eyes. “You, too.” Surprise skidded through her. All things considered, these were the friendliest people she’d ever met.

“I understand you need help with your car. Where’s it located?”

She gave him the details, and the policeman and J. C. left to retrieve the car. The rest of the men chattered at once, one offering her a folding chair, and another, a scratchy blanket. Their thoughtfulness rained down on her like soothing balm after the tense drive into town. Steve’s angry expression intruded into her thoughts. She’d take thoughtful over tense any day.

The man who looped his thumbs through his orange suspenders, the one they called Coot, spoke. “So you’re Cecille’s girl.” His chewing-tobacco breath blasted her in the face, his blaring voice in competition with his loud suspenders.

Her heart skipped a beat. This was a small town. Of course they would know her mother. She shifted in the chair and pulled the blanket closer. “Yes. You know her?”

He nodded once. “Yep. Grew up with her. Heard she married some rich city fella.”

Dani offered him a close-mouthed smile, unsure of how to respond.

The men began reminiscing about the days of their youth, painting her mother in fresh colors. She marveled at their stories. They couldn’t be talking about her mother. The person they mentioned sounded like a fun-loving country girl, not the cold and difficult-to-please woman she knew.

The rattle of the cowbell above the door drew her attention. An older woman approached, her face glowing. Dani’s neck tingled, an indescribable feeling rushing over her. She stood and moved toward the woman, her hand out. “You must be—”

“A handshake just won’t do, Dani. I’m so glad you’re here.” Her aunt waved away her outstretched hand and blanketed her in an embrace.

Unexpected tears spilled down Dani’s cheeks, their saltiness sliding onto her lips, as tension and fatigue gave way to relief. She pulled away and used her hands to wipe dampened cheeks, brushing at a wet spot on her aunt’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I got you all wet.”

“Oh, pshaw.” Her aunt’s voice hitched for a moment then leveled out. “Won’t kill me. But we’d better get you into some dry clothes before you catch your death of cold. Let’s go home.”