The Way to Texas (19 page)

A future without Tyson.

She climbed the steps to the ranch house, dodging Dutch, who seemed to think his sleeping spot was in the direct path of any doorway. He lifted his head, yawned and regarded her with his Labrador retriever eyes. Whiskey. Just like Tyson's.

Dawn sighed, backtracked and bent to scratch Dutch's ears. The dog groaned with pleasure.

“Maybe I should have gotten a dog. A dead squirrel on my new boot was nothing compared to this.”

A single tear fell onto Dutch's ebony coat.

The dog didn't seem to mind.

T
YSON ROLLED OVER AND
a slat fell from the bottom of the bed. Hell. He hadn't had time to put together the sleigh bed he'd found in the back of an antiques store in Jefferson. It still sat in his grandfather's workshop, now a painful reminder of his torn relationship with Dawn.

He eased from the bed and made his way to the kitchen, where Gramps had a pot of coffee waiting.

“Morning,” Gramps called from behind the
Oak Stand Gazette.
“Coffee's hot.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, grabbing a mug and pouring himself a cup. “Is Laurel up?”

“Is the Pope Jewish?”

“A simple no would suffice,” he grumbled, staring at the raw day outside the window. Everything looked gray. It matched the way he felt.

“And you call me grumpy?” Gramps said, licking his thumb and turning the page. “Does this have to do with your lady friend?”

Tyson shrugged. “Not my lady anymore. We're done.”

“Is that right?” His grandfather peered over the paper at him. His bushy eyebrows lifted and his normally misty blue eyes looked very sharp. “You giving up on her just because Laurel and Karen don't approve? Sounds chicken shit to me.”

Tyson slammed his mug against the counter. “
Chicken
shit?
I'm not giving up. She's the one who gave up. She doesn't trust me or any man, for that matter. I'm done with trying to convince her.” He grabbed a paper towel and wiped up the coffee that had sloshed from his mug. “The whole thing is just not worth it. Too much stacked against us, and she won't listen to me, wouldn't even let me explain. I don't need another woman who gives up when the going gets a little tough. I barely survived the last one.”

“I wouldn't compare Dawn to Karen. I've known Karen a long time, son, and I've never thought much of her.” Gramps folded the paper and set it on the table.

“She's always been a bitch.”

Tyson looked hard at his grandfather. “So why didn't you tell me this before I married her? It would have saved me a lot of time and money.”

His grandfather shrugged. “You were twenty-two. You weren't going to listen to some old coot like me. You had to learn for yourself. Painful lesson that it was.”

Tyson looked out at the frost on the ground. His heart felt as cold, as though Dawn had stolen away the pilot light and left him without any heat. “Yeah, painful. Seems women bring a lot of it.”

“They bring joy, too. You gotta figure out if this one, this Dawn, is worth it. I'm of a frame of mind that she is. Reminds me a lot of your grandmother. Stubborn mule she was. But I wouldn't have traded her for a passel of beauty queens. She was my Annie.”

Gramps rose and clamped a hand on his shoulder. “If she's worth it, you better find you a plan to get her back. If not, dump your worries. No sense in totin' them around. They just bring you down and make you cranky.”

Tyson covered his grandfather's thin-skinned hand with his own. Tyson didn't think there was much planning he could do but he still appreciated the support. “Thanks, Gramps. You've always been here when I needed you.”

His grandfather gave a squeeze then toddled out to his workshop, where he'd putter around till lunch. Tyson took a sip of his coffee. Strong and black. He'd forgotten the sugar. And like his coffee, he could deal with the bitter if he had a little sugar to sweeten it. That's what Dawn had been in his life, a little sweetness to make the rest of it tolerable.

A knock sounded at the back door.

“Knock, knock?” Nellie's voice sounded before she popped her head in. “You decent?”

“Hey,” he called. “Come in.”

Nellie stepped into the kitchen and shrugged off a puffy pink ski jacket. She tucked her gloves in the pocket and rubbed her hands together. “
Brrr!
It's really cold outside.”

He nodded to the coffeepot. “Help yourself.”

Nellie shook her head. “Nursing, but thanks anyway.”

She settled against the counter and crossed her arms. “We need to talk about Dawn.”

He blew out a breath. He didn't want to talk about Dawn. He didn't want to talk about anything. He wanted to go out to the workshop with Gramps and find something to fix or build that would hush his thoughts. “What's there to talk about? She'll think what she pleases. I'm tired of chasing after her, trying to prove what we feel is strong enough to build on. She doesn't trust me and I can't work with that.”

Nellie shook her head. “You don't get it. You don't
get Dawn. Words won't mean anything to her. She's had a lifetime of two-timing smooth talkers. You've got to show her.”

Show her? Hadn't he already shown her? In the wee hours of the morning when he'd whispered sweet words in her delicious ear. Hadn't he brought her flowers? Helped out at the center when he was so dog-tired all he wanted was to go home? Hadn't he shown her she meant something more to him than the average short-lived affair? He wanted to commit to her. She was the one jumping to conclusions and guarding her heart so tightly it could masquerade as Fort Knox.

“Nellie, I don't think you should get involved. Dawn is a grown woman, and I can't make her feel something she doesn't feel. Neither can you.”

“But she does feel. I heard her crying all night long. Hard sobbing crying. Her heart is broken because she thinks you still love Karen.”

Tyson felt his own heart contract. He didn't want Dawn to hurt. But what could he do? He'd already tried to tell her that what she'd witnessed between him and Karen was merely a goodbye. Closure. But Dawn wouldn't have it. She had shut herself away from him. “What can I do? I'm tired of trying to prove myself to her, Nellie.”

His friend remained silent for a moment. “Here's the deal. Dawn doesn't show what she feels to the world. Or at least, she doesn't think she does. But everybody can see she's in love with you. And, if I'm a betting woman, I think you love her, too.”

He shrugged and drank the last of his coffee. “But I've got pride, Nellie. I'm not going to beg the woman to love me. I'm just not going to do it.”

She sighed. “I'm not asking you to. But I think I have
a plan. All I needed was to make sure you thought Dawn worth fighting for before I put it into action.”

He turned toward the window. He didn't want any part of a plan. He didn't really know what he wanted. Except Dawn. But he didn't know how to get to Point B from Point A. “I'm not fighting for her. I'm done.”

Nellie shook her head. “No, it's not over. Not yet.”

Her voice sounded prophetic. Certain.

He looked at her, at the stubborn tilt of her chin. He got a scared feeling in his gut. Nellie wasn't what she seemed. He'd seen that firsthand when he'd met her at camp. He was a counselor, she was his charge. There was steel in her spine though people often underestimated her. “Okay. So what kind of plan are you cooking up?”

“Oh, don't worry. You don't have to do a thing. I'm of the mindset if Oak Stand brought you together once, it can do it again.”

He groaned. “Nellie, Oak Stand didn't bring us together any more than—”

Nellie held up a hand. “Fine. God. Fate. Whatever. But you and Dawn came here for a reason, and I think that reason is each other.”

He shrugged.

She grabbed her jacket, slipped her arms into it and smiled at him. “I love Dawn and I love you. I'm going to give you both another shot at loving each other.”

“I'm feeling a little sick.”

She smiled. “Take some Pepto and get your butt over to Tucker House. Out of sight is out of mind, and I need you in full view, mister.”

 

D
AWN WATCHED GRACE TRY
to balance as she walked across a tightrope between two buildings. Her forehead
wrinkled in concentration as she focused on the rope. She was almost across. One more step and…

“Oh, yeah! Bite me!” she whooped, throwing her hands up in glee. The Wii avatar on the TV screen did much the same.

“My turn,” Ester said, wrenching the control from Grace's grasp. “I'm gonna beat your score and be top dog around here.”

Grace huffed but relinquished the control. “Go ahead. I've seen your balance. Kiss your chances goodbye.”

“We'll see about that,” Ester said, stepping onto the Wii control board.

Dawn shook her head and continued on her way to the kitchen. She needed to courier some papers to the state department of health then find where Ed Murray left the eyeglass kit. He'd lost a screw out of his trifocals again.

“Hey, Dawn,” Ester called as she waved the Wii control at the TV.

“Yeah?”

“If I don't beat Grace's score, I'll likely try again,” she said.

“Well, you should. I firmly expect you to make it to the other side,” Dawn called as she stepped into the kitchen.

“I expect the same of you, honey,” Ester called.

That had Dawn stopping in her tracks. Weird answer. She hoped Ester was feeling okay. Dawn had never even played the balancing games on the Wii Fit. She reversed her steps.

Ester stood on the board, doing her best to place one foot in front of the other. Her gray-headed avatar mimicked her movements.

“What do you mean? I don't play Wii,” Dawn said.

Ester teetered. “I'm talking about second chances is all.”

“It sounds like you're talking about more than the game you're playing,” Dawn said, tucking her hands into her pockets. She wore her favorite angora sweater with a front pocket muffler. She needed all the comfort she could get. A broken heart wasn't an easy thing to deal with. She knew all the tricks of getting over a guy. Comfy clothes. Ice cream. Liquor.

“Just in general.” Ester pressed her lips together. The game was reflected in her glasses so Dawn couldn't read her eyes to determine her intent. “Sometimes I've needed a do over. Maybe you need one, too.”

She felt her aggravation rise. She didn't need advice from a smart-mouthed geriatric. “Maybe I need a lot of things. Maybe I need a new job.”

Ester cackled. “Maybe you do. But
I
don't think so.”

Then Ester reached up and turned her hearing aid off.

Dawn had been dismissed.

Dawn blew out a breath. Great. Everybody wanted to give her advice about Tyson. It had started with Nellie. Then Jack. Even Andrew suggested it was Karen who'd made the moves. Had Dawn jumped to conclusions? Maybe. But she didn't think so. She stood firm. The man had taken that woman in his arms and kissed her. Okay, it was on the forehead, but still. Didn't look like anything but a new beginning for them.

She'd been a fool.

Again.

She stomped toward the kitchen, determined to put the mistake she'd made from her mind.

“Hey, I found the eyeglasses kit. Mr. Murray had
left it out back. It was underneath the swing covered by leaves. Lucky my eyes are good. Hey, what's with you?” Margo asked.

“Just Ester. It's nothing.”

She smiled and handed over the kit. “It's never nothing with Ester. The woman was born to irritate.”

“Yeah, I'd argue with her, but she turned her hearing aid off. Maybe I should get one of those for when I want to tune the world out.”

Margo laughed. “Well, hang around long enough and you'll likely get one.”

Dawn shrugged on her jacket and wrapped the scarf Nellie had knit for her around her neck. “I'm heading to the package place. Need anything while I'm out?”

“We're out of coffee.”

Emergency. If she needed anything other than tequila to get through a heartache, it was the warmth of a good brew. “I'll stop by the grocery.”

Dawn headed out, dropped off the package and made it inside the Shop and Save with no problem. She was glad. Her eyes still looked puffy from crying and she didn't want to make small talk. Too bad, she ran into Betty Monk on the coffee aisle. The woman loved to gossip. And never could remember her name.

“Hey, there, Donna,” Betty called. “Did you have a good Thanksgiving, darlin'?”

Dawn nodded. “It was fine. How about you?”

“Fantastic. Kitty Lou made the best dressing you've ever put in your mouth. She took that recipe right out of that South Carolina cooking woman's cookbook. You know the one with the big hair? And the bright blue eyes?”

Dawn wasn't sure if she meant Kitty Lou or Paula Deen. “Well, sounds like it was good.”

“I heard your boyfriend's ex-wife had dinner with y'all and he broke your ex-husband's nose. That must have been fun.” Betty blinked at her with eyes rimmed with too much eyeliner. Her painted-on eyebrows arched high.

“Um…you know, I really need to get going. Margo's waiting for me to bring her…toilet paper. It's an emergency.”

“Well, darling, you're in the wrong aisle. But, hey, don't you go letting that ex-wife get the better of you, you hear? If a man's worth it, you gotta hold on to him, honey.” Betty's words rang out. Dawn knew everyone from aisle four to seven likely heard. She wanted to slink out. But she needed that coffee in the worst way. And now toilet paper, too.

She picked up the items and got in the express line. Only two people were in front of her and she didn't know either one of them. Thank God.

“Well, hey, Dawn,” Emma Long said, grabbing the coffee and sweeping it over the scanner. “You have a nice Thanksgiving?”

Dawn wanted to say something along the lines of “You know I didn't,” but bit her tongue. Instead she smiled and nodded.

“Oh, good. We did, too. Avery fried a turkey. It was so good we don't have any leftovers for turkey salad. Oh, I like this kind of toilet paper. It's worth the price.”

Emma scanned the toilet paper and punched a few buttons on the register. “Yeah, I had to go through a couple of kinds before I found the right one. Sometimes you just have to do that. Go through a lot of different ones. But when you find the right one, well, nothing else will do, will it?”