West Texas Match (The West Texans Series #1)

by Ginger Chambers

  The children hung their heads and walked away. Shannon’s heart went out to them. Compared to some of the children she’d dealt with, these two were models of discipline.

  “Truly, they didn’t bother me.” She tried to plead their case.

  The woman smiled. “I won’t skin ’em alive, I promise. A day or two without their favorite TV shows should do the trick.”

  “But...but...” Shannon sputtered, still thinking the punishment rather harsh.

  “It’s important that a child have boundaries when they live in a place like this,” the woman explained patiently. “If you tell ’em not to go somewhere or not to do something, you have to believe they won’t do it. Not when they’re too young to handle it. It’s for their own safety. Understand?”

  Shannon drew a deep breath. It was obvious that she had put her oar in where it didn’t belong. She nodded ruefully, but before she could speak, the woman said, “My name’s Harriet Dunn. We met at that do Mae had, but I doubt if you remember. I’m married to LeRoy, another of Mae’s great-nephews. LeRoy repairs all the equipment that breaks down around here, cars and trucks included. He’s better at it than most garage mechanics.”

  Shannon took the hand Harriet extended. It would have been impossible not to respond. Harriet’s friendliness was infectious.

  “I invited you to come have coffee with me sometime, and the offer still stands. Would you like to have a cup now?”

  Shannon started to refuse. It would be much easier to retreat to her room than to interact with other people. But she had finally placed Harriet’s voice. She was the friendly woman she’d as good as snubbed at Mae’s dinner party. She couldn’t do it again. “I’d love one,” Shannon accepted graciously.

  Harriet’s face brightened. “Wonderful!” she exclaimed, and led the way to her home.

  The interior of the house was a world apart from the one in which Shannon was staying. Two rambunctious young children took care of that. Toys and games were strewn about the floor and on the furniture. A half-filled glass of milk sat next to an empty plate on an end table, which was placed close to a television set. Another glass, this one empty, had fallen onto the floor beside the couch. Harriet hurried to pick it up.

  “I wish I could tell you that this isn’t the way the place usually looks,” she said, “but I’d be lying. Sometimes it’s better, sometimes worse. Come on into the kitchen. At least I’ve had a chance to get that part straightened.”

  Shannon followed her into an enormous room that was obviously the heart of the house. The food-preparation area was fully equipped and arranged for someone who loved to cook. The eating area was dominated by a long country-style table and comfortably padded armchairs, which invited lingering after-dinner conversation.

  “Have a seat while I get the coffee going,” Harriet directed, smiling as she saw Shannon absorb her surroundings.

  “This is very nice,” Shannon said, settling into a chair. Her gaze was drawn to a nearby antique pine breakfront.

  “You should have seen it before LeRoy and I got married. It had an old cookstove from the twenties or thirties, heavy dark cabinets, countertops with broken tiles... The area you’re in now was used for storage. LeRoy’s dad was a widower for a long time before he died, and he didn’t care about the place. He brought engines inside to work on. LeRoy took after him, but I drew the line. I told him if an engine came in one door, I was going out the other.”

  Harriet brought cups and saucers to the table and slipped into a chair across from Shannon. She looked at her with open curiosity. “How are you getting on with Mae?” she asked.

  Shannon shrugged. “Fine.”

  “She can be a difficult person sometimes.”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  “She likes to tell other people what to do, how to live their lives.”

  “I’ve noticed that, too.”

  “Has she told you yet what she has in mind for you? No? Oh, well. She’s probably decided to wait a while, at least until you’ve started to feel better.”

  Shannon parroted the party line. “I’m going to help her write a book about the Parkers.”

  Harriet laughed softly, disbelievingly, but she didn’t pursue the subject. The kettle whistled and she got up to pour hot water over freshly ground coffee beans waiting in a French press coffeemaker. The beans instantly started to color the water in the clear glass cylinder.

  “This’ll be a good time for me to see to those kids,” Harriet said. “Excuse me for a minute? I won’t be long.”

  Shannon nodded, glad for a respite. Was everyone privy to Mae’s matchmaking plans? The idea made her highly uncomfortable.

  In the background, she could hear Harriet admonishing her children once again. When she came back into the room, Harriet wore a rueful smile. “I don’t know who I’m punishing more when I take away their TV—them or me.”

  “I’m sorry to cause so much trouble.”

  “They’ve been burning up with curiosity about you. We all have, truth to tell.” She pressed the coffeemaker’s metal filter through the hot liquid, forcing the coffee grounds to the bottom of the cylinder. “But Mae was adamant. After the night of the party we were to leave you strictly alone,” she said as she poured the dark rich brew into the cups. “But you really were in need of isolation, weren’t you? It wasn’t just Mae being bossy.”

  “Look, about the party. I want to apologize.”

  “No need. That’s when we all realized...” She hesitated.

  “What?”

  “Just how serious things were with you. Mae had told us about the accident, how badly you’d been hurt, but we had no idea— You looked pretty wobbly. Still do. Do you take sugar or cream?”

  “Neither,” Shannon replied. She took a sip of the coffee and smiled. “This is good.”

  “It’s a roast I have specially ordered.”

  The two women enjoyed their coffee, each keeping their thoughts to themselves. Then Shannon admitted, “I don’t remember very much about the party, all the people there. I remember Gib and Jodie...and you. I wasn’t very nice to you, I’m afraid.”

  “I don’t hold grudges. Not for things people can’t help. Mae probably should’ve canceled the whole thing, but I don’t think even she realized how unsteady you were until it was too late.”

  “I made it through.”

  “By a sheer act of will.”

  Shannon laughed uncomfortably.

  “If it’s any consolation,” Harriet continued, “the others don’t care. Certainly not Gib and Jodie. And Thomas and Darlene have other things to worry about. LeRoy...well, LeRoy doesn’t notice much of anything unless it has a flywheel. And Rafe, he didn’t show up, did he?”

  A tap sounded on the front door, followed by the sound of it opening a crack. A questioning “Harriet? You around?” soon followed.

  “In here, Darlene!” she called out.

  A woman who looked to be in her mid-sixties walked into the room. Worried distraction pinched her features. “I was just wondering if you—” she said, then stopped when she saw Shannon.

  “Look who I found out and about this morning,” Harriet said perkily. It was as if she was trying to lift the other woman’s spirits, cheer her up.

  “Oh!” Darlene glanced back the way she had come as if she wanted to escape. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “Good heavens, Darlene! It’s all right. Mae said to let Shannon make the first move and she did. I didn’t go drag her out of her room. She was outside in the courtyard, and I asked her in for coffee. Would you like some?”

  Darlene still hesitated.

  “Come on,” Harriet urged her. “Take a minute. Get to know Shannon a little bit. Everything else can wait.”

  Darlene smiled tightly. She even walked tightly as she crossed over to the table and sat down. She was a small woman with a birdlike body—small head, narrow shoulders and thin restless limbs.

  Harriet assembled a third cup and saucer and scooted it, filled, across the table
to Darlene. The woman took one quick sip, then another. Shannon felt the woman’s gaze brush over her before breaking away.

  “Darlene’s married to Thomas,” Harriet explained. “He and Gib are brothers. Another brother was named Ward, Rafe’s father. LeRoy’s mother was their sister, Martha. She married Jack Dunn—that’s why our last name is different. I know, it can all get rather confusing. And we’re only the Parkers who live on the ranch! There’s a whole passel of others spread all over the state.”

  Shannon felt the first warning throb of a headache coming on. She wasn’t ready yet for the Parker genealogy.

  Harriet grinned. “Never mind. It takes a while, doesn’t it, Darlene?”

  Darlene jerked her head in agreement, then said abruptly, “I live next door.”

  Shannon nodded. Now the family compound was complete. She knew who lived in each house—if indeed it mattered.

  She stood up and the other two women put down their cups.

  “You have to go?” Harriet asked, sounding genuinely disappointed.

  “I’ve been out far longer than I planned,” Shannon said. “I have to take this a little at a time. Otherwise...”

  Harriet immediately abandoned the table. “We wouldn’t want to put a strain on you, that’s for sure. Come again whenever you like. Our door’s always open.”

  “Thank you,” Shannon said, and for some reason felt ridiculously close to tears. Though Harriet was only a few years older than Shannon, she had the same kind of natural warmth as Shannon's mother.

  “Yes, do,” Darlene echoed vaguely.

  Harriet accompanied Shannon to the front door. “Family trouble,” she explained under her breath. “Her only son is about to get a divorce—a really messy situation. Darlene’s worried what Mae will say.”

  “Mae?” Shannon repeated just as softly.

  “Mae has a long reach,” Harriet murmured. Then she gave Shannon an unaffected smile. “Let me know if you’d like some flowers for your room. I’m the one who grows them, so I’m the one who has the most say about when they get cut.”

  “They’re beautiful,” Shannon said. “The borders were one of the first things I noticed when I arrived.”

  “All flowers need is a little care, then some space to bloom—like a lot of things in this world.”

  The full import of what Harriet had said didn’t strike Shannon until she was back in the big house and safely in her room. It was then she realized there was much more to Harriet Dunn than she’d first thought.

  Chapter Five

  Shannon had another bad dream that night. Once again it involved her feelings of helplessness in a difficult situation. She was trying to warn people, to avert a tragedy, only she couldn’t make anyone listen! She screamed and screamed, yet it did no good...

  She awoke with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed, her breath coming in gasps, her hands reaching out for... For what? For whom?

  Slowly she sank back against her pillow. She knew who she was reaching out for. Only they weren’t there. She could never—no matter how much she wanted it!—reach hard enough or far enough to reclaim them. Not even for a second, to tell them how much she loved them. To hear them, once again, tell her the same.

  “James...” she cried softly, achingly, but only the grandfather clock in the hall answered with a strike on the half hour. The muted tone reverberated throughout the quiet house.

  ~*~

  Shannon made herself go outside the next day and the day after that. She sunned herself for ten full minutes before moving into the shade with the book her friend Julia had given her. And each day, during those ten minutes in the sun, she waited for Rafe Parker to stop by and berate her, whereupon she would proudly show him the beginnings of the tan she was acquiring and brag of her returning strength. Only she never saw him. The children came to talk to her, Shep ambled over to curl up by her chair, Harriet again asked her in for coffee, and even Darlene managed to come over for a hello. But Rafe seemed to have disappeared from the face of the earth.

  “Hey—how’re you doin’?” a familiar voice broke into her concentration on the fourth afternoon, shortly after she’d moved into the shade. With her skin still tingling with warmth from the sun, she looked up to see Gib Parker smiling down at her.

  “Gib,” she said affably, letting the book drop closed on a finger to mark her place.

  Gib’s hands were stuffed into the front pockets of his jeans. “Aunt Mae said you’ve been getting out a lot in the past few days.”

  “I have,” Shannon agreed.

  “Feeling stronger?”

  “I think so.”

  “You’re looking better. Not quite so—” he searched for an appropriate word “—rocky.”

  “Thank you.”

  Gib fished in his shirt pocket for a packet of gum. He offered Shannon a piece, then took one for himself when she refused. “I went with Rafe to San Antone,” he volunteered. “He had a little business to take care of and I rode along.”

  “Ah,” Shannon murmured, understanding now why Rafe hadn’t been around, then feeling silly about her previous behavior.

  “Got some new boots,” Gib said, showing her his feet. “And a couple of new outfits for Jodie.”

  “Did she go with you?” Shannon asked. She hadn’t seen the girl, either.

  “Nah. Couldn’t drag her away from this place right now. She told me what she wanted and I got it. Gave me specific instructions.”

  “I’d’ve thought she’d’ve been only too glad to have some fun in the city.”

  “Not with her dad and her cousin, that’s for sure. Now, if it’d been one of her girlfriends or—” He stopped suddenly and frowned.

  “Or?”

  He shook his shaggy salt-and-pepper head. “Better not say any more. Don’t want to borrow trouble.”

  “She’s in trouble?” Shannon asked.

  “Only if she keeps on the way she’s been.”

  “What’s it all about?”

  “She thinks she’s in love with one of our hands.”

  “Maybe she is,” Shannon said slowly, remembering her own situation.

  “Not with a cowboy. Aunt Mae would have a fit.”

  “Why?”

  Gib looked at her and blinked. “She just would.” He shifted position and glanced over his shoulder toward the big house. “I have to go. Aunt Mae wants to see me. Probably wants me to do something for her.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Shannon said, getting up.

  Gib grinned. “I’m no fool. I’m not about to turn down a walk with a pretty lady.”

  As they started across the courtyard toward the house, Shannon asked, “Did you get into trouble for taking me by the pens that first day?” She’d been wondering about that all along, but had hesitated to ask Mae.

  “Nah,” Gib replied. “She jumped up and down a couple of times, but Rafe stopped her from goin’ at me too much.”

  “He’s the one who told her.”

  “I’d’ve done the same thing. It was his responsibility. I’m the one who screwed up.”

  Shannon frowned. “I still don’t understand what we did wrong. Why aren’t women allowed at the pens?”

  “It’s not that—it was the timing. I told you, the men had just come in off the range after being out for a solid month. Half of ’em were temporary hired hands, and they’re hard to handle at the best of times. But then...they were just looking for an excuse to blow off steam. Their nerves’r on edge, they’re thirsty for a drink, the work they’re doin’ is tough and dangerous, they think they’re gonna die because they’ve been without a woman for all that time—then I show up with you.” He laughed at his own expense. “It’s a wonder Rafe didn’t knock me flat. He’d been out all that time, too.”

  Without a woman. Shannon completed the thought, then brought herself up with a sharp rebuke. What the man thought, what the man did or didn’t do, made not the slightest bit of difference to her.

  “You mean,” she said, instead, “I coul
d go down there now if I wanted and no one would be upset?”

  “It’s pretty far,” he answered, glancing at her in concern. “Half a mile at least.”

  “When I get stronger,” she appended.

  “Sure, yeah, I guess so. Rafe and some of the regular hands are going to be working with the colts over the next month or so. You might find that interesting. But you should check with Aunt Mae first. She might have other ideas.”

  Shannon said nothing, but her lack of response could be easily overlooked when Rafe came stomping out the front door of the house breathing fire.

  Gib immediately backed out of the way, drawing Shannon with him.

  “Hey! What’s up?” he called to Rafe.

  Rafe turned, started to answer, then glanced at Shannon and appeared to think better of it. She could see the strain the suppression caused him by the muscle that worked in his jaw.

  “Just the usual,” he bit out.

  He was dressed in his customary ranch garb—boots, jeans, Western shirt, hat. Only today, everything except his boots and hat appeared to be new, as if he, too, had done some shopping in the city. His eyes flicked back to Shannon. She could see his first instinct was to turn away, to dismiss her as the annoyance he perceived her to be, but he made himself murmur a polite greeting.

  She nodded in return, not a sound passing her lips.

  Gib seemed oblivious to any tension that might exist between them. If he knew of Mae’s plan, he didn’t let on. “Her bonnet’s full of bees, eh?”

  “When’s it not?” Rafe retorted, pulling his gaze away from Shannon. His tautly held body continued to convey deep irritation.

  Gib shook his head. “I don’t know how she does it. Wouldn’t you think, at her age, she’d slow down a bit?”

  “She eats barbed wire for breakfast!” Rafe growled.

  Gib laughed.

  “What’s this?” Mae came to the door and looked from one to the other, causing Gib to immediately swallow his amusement. Her gaze held longest on Rafe, whose return gaze never wavered. He stood there just as taut, just as irritated.

  “We were discussing your choice of breakfast food,” he said evenly.