He pulled her into his arms, clutching her so tightly she couldn’t breathe. She was dimly aware of the shrill sound of a siren in the background. His chest heaved against her, and his uneven breathing battered her ear.
“You can’t . . . Don’t . . . leave.” His mouth moved against her temple, and then, abruptly, she was free of him.
For a few seconds, the sun blinded her and she couldn’t tell what had happened. Then she saw Bobby Tom being hauled roughly to his feet by Chief Thackery. As she scrambled up herself, the police chief brutally twisted his arms behind his back, and slapped on a pair of handcuffs.
“You’re under arrest, you son of a bitch!”
Bobby Tom paid no attention to him. All his concentration was riveted on her, and she felt an urgent need to cup his poor, battered face in her hands.
“Don’t go, Gracie! You can’t go. Please! We have to talk.”
His features looked ravaged, and her eyes filled with tears. In the background she heard the sounds of tires squealing and doors slamming, but she paid no attention. Shaking her head, she backed away from him before she could give in to her weakness.
“I’m sorry, Bobby Tom. I never imagined anything like this would happen.” A strangled sob rose in her throat. “I have to go. I can’t take any more.”
Thackery sneered. “The lady doesn’t seem to want you.
He twisted Bobby Tom around and shoved him toward the squad car. Bobby Tom’s bad knee gave way, and he went down. Gracie gasped and rushed forward, only to watch in horror as Thackery jerked on his arms to bring him upright.
Bobby Tom gave a groan of pain, then caught the police chief in the side with his shoulder, unbalancing him just long enough so he could spin back toward Gracie.
“You said you wouldn’t take anything from me!” he cried.
Thackery bellowed with rage and slammed Bobby Tom’s bent arms up into his back, nearly pulling them from their sockets.
Bobby Tom let out a howl of despair that came all the way from the very depths of his soul. “I love you! Don’t leave me!”
She stood stunned and watched as he began to fight like a wild man. With a growl, Thackery pulled out his nightstick.
She didn’t wait a moment longer. Screaming with rage, she hurled herself through the air at the police chief. “Don’t you dare hit him! Don’t you dare!” She butted Thackery with her head and pummeled him with her fists, forcing him to let go of Bobby Tom to protect himself.
“You stop that right now!” He began to swear as the edge of her sandal caught him in the shin. “Stop it! Stop or I’ll arrest you, too!”
“What the hell is going on here?” Luther Baines roared. All three of them turned their heads to see the mayor running toward them, waddling a bit on his stubby legs, with Dell Brady by his side, and his squad car parked at a crazy angle across the highway. Behind the two men, tires squealed as more cars began pulling up. Terry Jo and Buddy tumbled out of their Explorer, and Buddy, who had a split lip and swollen jaw, ran forward. Connie Cameron hopped out of her Sunbird.
Luther whacked Jimbo Thackery in the arm, forcing him to take another step backward. “Have you lost your mind? What in the sam hill do you think you’re doing?”
“Bobby Tom!” Suzy screamed her son’s name as she ran down the blacktop with Way Sawyer at her side.
Thackery glared at Luther. “He broke out of jail. And she attacked me. I’m arresting them both!”
“Like hell you are!” Buddy cried in outrage.
Luther shoved his index finger into Thackery’s chest. “You couldn’t be satisfied with being an amateur asshole, could you, Jimbo! You had to go and turn pro on me!”
Thackery’s face grew florid. He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut and took another step back. Suzy rushed forward only to have Way detain her as he saw Gracie’s arms wrapped protectively around his future son-in-law’s chest.
“Everybody get away from him!” Gracie shouted, her copper hair glinting in the sunlight, her expression as fierce as an Amazon warrior. “Nobody touches him, do all of you hear me? Nobody touches him!”
Bobby Tom, his wrists still cuffed behind his back, looked down at her, his expression faintly bemused.
The fact that he no longer seemed to be in imminent danger didn’t make Gracie relax her vigilance. Anyone trying to hurt him was going to have to get through her first.
She felt his cheek press against the top of her head, and he began to murmur the most wonderful things in a voice so low that only those close to them could hear.
“I love you so much, sweetheart. Tell me you’re going to forgive me for last night? Everything you said about me is tight, I know; I’m insensitive, selfish, egotistical, a lot of other things. But I’m going to change. I swear it. If you marry me, I’ll change. Just don’t leave me, because I love you too much.”
Someone must have unfastened his handcuffs because suddenly his arms were around her. ‘She looked up into his eyes and saw that even the swollen one glistened with tears. He meant every word he was saying, she realized with a sense of wonder. This outpouring of love had nothing to do with injured pride or getting even. He was speaking to her from the bottom of his heart.
“Tell me you’re going to give me another chance,” he whispered, cupping her cheek in his palm. “Tell me you somehow still love me after everything.”
Her throat squeezed tight with emotion. “It’s my weakness.”
“What is?”
“Loving you. I love you, Bobby Tom Denton; and I always will.”
She felt his chest convulse. “You’ll never know how glad I am to hear that.” For a moment, he squeezed his eyes shut as if he were gathering his courage. When he opened them again, his lashes were moist and spiked. “You’re going to marry me, aren’t you, sweetheart? Tell me you’re going to marry me.”
The uncertainty she heard in his voice made her love him all the more, and her own eyes filled. “Oh, I’m going to marry you, all right. You can bet on it.”
For a few moments, they forgot everyone around them. They were alone at the side of the Texas highway with a bright sun shining down on them and a brighter future shining ahead, one filled with laughter, children, and an abundance of love. He kissed her with his poor, swollen mouth, and she kept her lips gentle against his. Suzy finally ended their embrace by touching her son’s battered face to make certain he wasn’t badly hurt, while Way hugged Gracie as Bobby Tom released her. Gradually, they all grew aware of the car doors that continued to slam as more of Telarosa’s citizens drew up to block the highway and witness Bobby Tom’s jailbreak. Gracie spotted Toolee Chandler and Judy Baines, along with Pastor Frank and Suzy’s bridge club.
Jimbo Thackery had moved off to the side, where Connie Cameron seemed to be giving him a piece of her mind. Luther looked suspiciously pleased with himself as he eyed Bobby Tom, who was once again holding on to Grade.
“I’m going to give you a couple of hours to straighten yourself out with Gracie here, and then me and you are going to have a nice long meeting with Judge Gates. They don’t call him the hanging judge for nothing, B.T., and before this is over, I can just about predict that you’re going to find yourself faced with a heap of fines and a real expensive community service project. This escapade is going to cost you a pretty penny, boy.”
Gracie couldn’t resist peering across Bobby Tom’s chest to offer her own opinion. “The senior citizens center could use a bus with a motorized ramp.”
Luther gave her a proud smile. “Excellent idea, Grade. How ’bout you come along to that meeting in case me and Judge Gates need some inspiration.”
“I’d be happy to.”
Bobby Tom’s eyebrows rose in indignation. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”
It took her a moment to respond because she was envisioning all the good work the Bobby Tom Denton Foundation would be doing in the future. “Since I’m going to be a citizen of this town, I have a duty to the community.”
If anything, he looked
even more indignant. “Who says we’re going to live here?”
She smiled all her love up at him and thought that, for an intelligent man, he could certainly be obtuse. She wondered how long it would take him to figure out that he would never be truly happy anywhere else.
“Why don’t the two of you ride back with us?” Way said.
Bobby Tom was just about to follow that suggestion when Terry Jo pushed herself to the front of the crowd. “Not so fast!” The determined expression on her face made it apparent that she hadn’t yet forgiven Bobby Tom for the damage he’d inflicted on her husband. “You’ve got a lot to answer for after what you did to my Buddy, and I’ll be damned if we make this too easy on you.”
“Easy!” Bobby Tom exclaimed, keeping his arm firmly around Gracie as if he were still afraid she might slip away. “I just about got myself killed today!”
“Well now, that’s too damn bad, because you almost killed Buddy last night.”
“He did not, Terry Jo.” Buddy looked discomfited. “Hell, me and Bobby Tom like to fight.”
“You just shut up. That’s only part of it. There’s also the fact that Gracie’s my friend, and since it’s obvious she’s too lovesick to look out for her own best interests, I’m going to do it for her.”
Gracie didn’t like the sparkle in Terry’s Jo’s eyes. It reminded her that most of the citizens of Telarosa, Texas, would be considered certifiably crazy if they lived anywhere else. It also reminded her that everybody here had peculiar tastes in entertainment.
“It’s all right, Terry Jo,” she said hastily. “Really.”
“No, it isn’t. You don’t realize this, Gracie, but people have been talking about you behind your back ever since Bobby Tom first announced your engagement, and now that it looks like there’s going to be a real wedding, the talk’s only going to get worse. Fact is, a lot of people have noticed you don’t seem to know too much about football, and they’re saying Bobby Tom never gave you the quiz.”
Oh, Lord.
“Some people are even saying he cheated, isn’t that so, Suzy?”
Suzy folded her hands primly in front of her. “I doubt that he would actually cheat. But there has been talk.”
Gracie stared at her. Until this moment she had always considered Suzy to be a model of sanity.
Terry Jo planted her hands on her hips. “Gracie, the truth is, even people who’re at your wedding are going to secretly question your children’s legitimacy if they don’t know for a fact you passed the quiz. Tell her, Bobby Tom.”
She gazed up at Bobby Tom only to note with alarm that he was rubbing his finger over his eyebrow. “I s’pose you’ve got a point, Terry Jo.”
Every one of these people belonged in a loony bin, Gracie decided. Especially her future husband.
He set his jaw. “But I’m only giving her five questions since she’s not from Texas and she didn’t grow up with football.” He glared at the audience that had gradually encircled them. “Anybody have a problem with that?”
A few of the women, Connie Cameron included, looked as if they had a very big problem with it, but no one protested out loud.
Bobby Tom nodded with satisfaction. He let go of Gracie and stepped slightly back, letting her know she was on her own. “Here we go. Question number one. What do the initials NFL stand for?”
The crowd groaned at his ridiculously easy question, but he silenced them with a look.
“Uh, National Football League,” she replied, wondering where all this would lead and knowing, without a doubt, that she intended to marry him whether or not she passed his ridiculous quiz.
“Very good. Question number two.” His forehead wrinkled in concentration. “Every January, the two teams with the best records in each conference play each other in the most important football game of the year. The same one where the winner gets a great big ring,” he added, in case
she needed help. “What’s that game called?” More groans from the crowd.
Gracie ignored them. “The Super Bowl.”
“Excellent. You’re doing fine, sweetheart.” He took a short break to kiss the tip of her nose, then stepped away again. “Now this question’s a little tougher, so I hope you’re ready. How many goalposts—they’re also called uprights—are at each end of a regulation football field?”
“Two!” she exclaimed, unaccountably pleased with herself. “And there are ribbons on top of each post, although I don’t remember exactly how long they are.”
He clucked his tongue in admiration. “The length doesn’t matter; I’m giving you credit for a fourth question just because you knew about those ribbons. Not everybody does, you know. That means you only have one question to go. Now concentrate, sweetheart.”
“I’m concentrating.”
“For the chance to be Mrs. Gracie Snow Denton . . .” He paused. “If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you reconsidered that hyphen.”
“I never said I was using a hyphen! You were the one who—”
“This isn’t the place to argue, honey. No hyphen, and that’s final. Your fifth and last question . . .” He hesitated, and for the first time he looked worried. “How much do you know about quarterbacks?”
“I know who Troy Aikman is.”
“That’s not fair, Bobby Tom,” Toolee called out. “Gracie was talking to him last night.”
“I’ve heard of Joe Namath,” Gracie declared in triumph.
“You have?” He beamed. “All right, sweetheart; here’s your last question, and it’s a real challenge, so don’t let yourself get distracted by these jealous women. To make sure all twelve of our future children are going to be legitimate, what New York City football team did Joe Namath play for?”
Gracie’s face fell. Lord. Any fool should know the answer to this one. New York City. . . What football team was from New York City? Her expression brightened. “The New York City Yankees!”
A roar of laughter went up from the crowd, accompanied by more than a few loud groans. Bobby Tom silenced them all with a glare. At the same time, the glitter in his eyes dared any of them to contradict her.
When he was certain every person there understood his message, he turned back to Gracie and gathered her into his arms. With a tender look and a gentle brush of his lips, he said, “Exactly right, sweetheart. I had no idea you knew so much about football.”
And that was how every last person in Telarosa, Texas, came to understand that Bobby Tom Denton had finally and forever fallen head over heels in love
Acknowledgments
I would like to express my appreciation to the following people who shared their expertise with me as I wrote Heaven, Texas: Mary Lynn Baxter (and Len, too, for letting me steal a few of his lines), Katherine Johnson, Pamela Litton, John Roscich, Glenda Sanders, and Ron Struxness. I am also grateful to the National Collegiate Athletic Association for answering my questions. Thanks to my guys, Bill, Ty, and Zach; you always help me out when I need it. Special appreciation to both my editor Carrie Feron and agent Steven Axelrod. My biggest thanks go to my readers who share my books with their friends and write me such wonderful letters. To all of you, God bless.
Susan Elizabeth Phillips
www.susanephillips.com
About the Author
Susan Elizabeth Phillips is one of our biggest women’s fiction stars soaring onto the New York Times bestseller list with Dream a Little Dream. She’s the only four-time recipient of Romance Writer’s of America’s prestigious Favorite Book of the Year Award. Susan delights fans by touching hearts as well as funny bones with her wonderfully whimsical and modern fairy tales. A resident of the Chicago suburbs, she is also a wife and mother of two grown sons.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
HEAVEN, TEXAS.
Copyright © 1995 by Susan Elizabeth Phillips. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of PerfectBound™.
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MS Reader edition v 1. November 2002 ISBN 0-06-621221-9
First Avon Books printing: April 1995
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