Heart of Texas Volume One

by Debbie Macomber

  As he looked back at his brother, his eyes strayed to the woman standing directly to Glen’s left. It took him a moment to remember who she was. The new doc. The first time he’d noticed her she’d worn a power business suit to a barbecue; now she was dressed in jeans and a snap-button Western shirt. Not exactly appropriate attire for the year’s most formal event. Cal couldn’t help feeling sorry for her, even if she was a city girl, but suspected she found this hick-town dance highly amusing. He could picture her phoning her city friends and making fun of the way people dressed and talked in Texas.

  The doc must have sensed his scrutiny because she glanced across the room and looked squarely back at him. He glared in her direction, wanting her to know that he didn’t like her attitude—or what he assumed her attitude to be.

  The music ended just then, and before Cal could stop him, Glen marched onto the dance floor and headed straight for Ellie.

  THIS WAS WORKING OUT EVEN better than Ellie had hoped. Glen hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her all evening. Richard viewed Glen as competition. She was well aware that his attentions had more to do with one-upmanship than any real interest in her; nevertheless she found flattery a balm to her wounded pride. She knew it was a superficial and childish reaction, but she couldn’t help it. Glen had really hurt her by asking Nell to the dance. Temporarily, at least, being with Richard was a way of assuaging that pain.

  The one bad side effect was that Glen’s presence had brought out a possessiveness in Richard she wasn’t sure she liked.

  The only man she wanted to dance with hadn’t even approached her. He’d followed her every move but hadn’t made one of his own. Glen must’ve been reading her thoughts, though, because as soon as the music ended, he squeezed through the maze of people and stopped directly in front of her.

  “The next dance is mine,” he announced, his grim eyes challenging her to contradict him.

  She stared at him, astonished. This was a side of her friend she’d never seen. Demanding, intense. Generally he took everything in his stride, live and let live, that sort of thing. But this… Ellie didn’t know what to think.

  “You’ve danced with Richard three times now. It’s my turn.”

  “You’re counting?”

  “Yes,” he snapped. He grasped her about the waist, dragged her close and clenched her hands as if expecting Pete to break into the “Beer Barrel Polka.”

  “Isn’t this dance mine?” Richard asked with a look of sardonic surprise.

  “She’s dancing with me,” Glen responded before she had a chance to answer.

  “Ellie?” Richard turned to her with lifted brows.

  Glen’s arms tightened around her defiantly.

  “It’s all right,” she assured the other man. “I’ll dance with Glen.” She waited until Richard had left the dance floor, then burst out, “What’s gotten into you?” She had to raise her chin to look him in the eye.

  “Plenty,” he responded gruffly.

  The music started again and Glen whirled her to the opposite side of the room and as far away as possible from Richard. The dance number was a mournful ballad about love gone wrong. Ellie found it a fitting choice. Couples flocked onto the dance floor, their arms around each other like clinging blackberry vines.

  Glen didn’t say anything, but he held her close, arms tight, jaw tense. But gradually he relaxed and so did she. They’d just found their rhythm when Richard approached and tapped Glen on the shoulder.

  “My turn,” he said with the smug certainty of a man who knew he’d eventually get what he wanted.

  Ellie saw Glen’s eyes flare in annoyance before he slowly released her. With his high sense of drama Richard grabbed her about the waist and dipped her backward until Ellie gasped, thinking her feet were about to go out from under her. Then Richard pulled her upright and danced her to the other side of the room, away from Glen.

  Just when she’d adjusted her steps comfortably to Richard’s, Glen was back. Without a word he tapped Richard on the shoulder. Richard gave Glen a flinty-eyed glare, then unwillingly released her.

  Glen gathered her back in his arms, but they hadn’t taken more than a couple of steps before Richard interrupted a second time. The two men scowled at each other.

  “This is ridiculous!” Ellie cried. “What’s the matter with you, Glen?”

  “Me?” he exploded.

  “You heard the lady,” Richard said with a mocking smile that suggested Glen was making a nuisance of himself.

  “You’re no better,” she snapped, hands aggressively on her hips.

  The music faded and the couples closest to them stopped dancing to stare at the unfolding scene. Ellie had never been so embarrassed in her life. Before another minute had passed, Frank Hennessey was standing between the two men. Although he wasn’t at the dance in his capacity as sheriff, he was the law in town and no one questioned his right to intervene. Dovie Boyd, who was with him, cast Ellie a sympathetic look.

  “Is there a problem here, boys?” Frank asked, placing emphasis on the last word. It was a not-so-subtle reminder that this sort of skirmish was generally reserved for adolescents.

  “Nothing Richard and I can’t settle outside,” Glen said.

  “Glen!” Ellie couldn’t believe her ears.

  “That’s fine with me,” Richard answered quickly, raising his fists.

  “Just one minute.” Frank put a hand on each man’s shoulder. “No one’s going outside. If there’s anything to settle, we’ll do it right here and now.” He nodded at Glen. “What’s the problem?”

  “I’d like to finish the dance with Ellie without Richard cutting in.”

  “Hey, it’s a free country,” Richard said, his tone cocky.

  “Richard and I can settle this between us, man to man.” Glen flexed his hands a number of times, letting Richard know he welcomed the opportunity to shove a fist down his throat.

  “Neither of you is leaving this hall,” Frank stated in a friendly but unmistakably firm tone. “At least not in your present frame of mind.”

  “I asked Ellie to dance first,” Richard insisted.

  “The hell you did!” Glen shouted.

  “Ellie?” Frank turned his attention to her. “Which one of them yahoos you want to dance with?”

  She glanced from one man to the other. Richard wore a smug contemptuous look and Glen’s dark brooding expression didn’t make her feel much better. It was as if he thought he had squatter’s rights or something.

  “Neither one,” she announced coolly.

  Glen’s mouth sagged open. “Fine,” he muttered.

  “But, sweetheart…” Richard objected.

  Unwilling to listen to either one of them, Ellie turned abruptly and muttered to Dovie and Frank, “I’m going to get a glass of punch.” Glen and Richard were insufferable fools, she told herself, both of them plagued with oversize egos. She refused to allow them to make an idiot out of her, too.

  Every eye in the room was focused on Ellie as she marched off the dance floor. She could feel the heat building in her face; she could hear the curious whispers all over the room.

  Savannah and Caroline met her at the edge of the dance floor and gathered close around her. “Are you all right?” Savannah asked.

  Ellie didn’t know how to answer. Glen and Richard had made spectacles of themselves and a laughingstock of her. “I’m so furious I could scream.”

  Savannah nodded. “I know exactly what you mean. Sit down and I’ll get you a glass of punch. It’ll calm your nerves.”

  In her present mood it would take a whole lot more than a cold drink to calm her. Thankfully the music had started again, and as people resumed dancing, they seemed to have forgotten the incident. To Ellie’s annoyance, Savannah wasn’t the one who returned with the punch; Glen brought it to her, instead. She glared up at him before accepting the glass.

  He stood beside her for a couple of moments, then wordlessly claimed the empty chair next to hers.

  Ellie crossed
her legs and turned slightly, granting him a partial view of her back.

  “You might have let me know,” he said after several tense minutes.

  “Know what?”

  “That you’d accepted Richard’s invitation to the dance.”

  “Oh, that’s rich.” She twisted around to face him, struggling to keep her voice under control. “You make a point of asking if I was going to be at the dance and I thought—I assumed… I spent a fortune on the dress, and the next thing I hear, you invited Nell.”

  “You bought that dress for me?” His face brightened and the beginnings of a smile edged up the corners of his mouth.

  “You’d look pretty silly in a dress, Glen Patterson. No, I bought it for me.”

  He grinned roguishly at that, but his amusement faded when it became clear that Ellie was about to end the conversation.

  “You’ll note I’m not here with Nell,” he said softly.

  “Nell came with Grady, then.”

  “Grady asked her, too?” Glen’s mouth snapped shut and he leaned hard against the back of the chair. He focused his attention on the dance floor. “I’d never have invited her if you hadn’t agreed to go with Richard. I thought you and I were going to meet here.”

  “That’s what I thought, too.”

  “But you said yes to Richard, anyway.”

  Ellie bristled. “I didn’t until I heard you’d asked Nell.”

  Glen’s face went blank, then his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why, that slimy…” he muttered. “Richard told me—” Glen stopped abruptly as if he’d already said more than he intended.

  “Told you what?” Ellie pressed.

  “Nothing. It doesn’t matter,” he muttered.

  “There’s no need to get short-tempered with me.” Ellie crossed her arms and glared straight ahead.

  Beside her, Glen crossed his arms, too, and scowled darkly at the other side of the room.

  IT WAS NOW OR NEVER, CAROLINE decided. Pete Hadley had just announced that the next dance was ladies’ choice. Heart pounding, Caroline slowly approached Grady. He sat next to Cal Patterson, and they were deeply involved in conversation. Her guess was that it had something to do with Glen and Ellie, who were the subject of a great deal of comment tonight. Little wonder, considering the scene they’d created earlier. Both of them now sat at the end of a row of seats, arms crossed and looking about as miserable as any two people could get.

  About as miserable as she’d been the past few days—since her most recent encounter with Grady.

  Couples were already heading toward the dance floor, and if she waited any longer, she’d miss the opportunity entirely. Savannah, on Laredo’s arm, cast her an encouraging smile and nodded in Grady’s direction. Savannah had been the one to persuade her to clear the air with Grady.

  Grady and Cal’s conversation halted as she reached them. Grady looked up at her as if he couldn’t imagine why she was standing in front of him, blocking his view.

  “Would you care to dance?” she asked, gesturing weakly toward the couples already circling the polished floor. Her pulse increased by fifty beats a minute, and she was sure he was going to humiliate her by refusing.

  Grady frowned.

  “It’s ladies’ choice,” she elaborated, her voice growing small.

  Grady glanced to either side. “You’re asking me?”

  “No,” she snapped, her anger saving her. “I thought I’d start at the front of the row and work my way down. If you refuse, I’ll ask Cal next. Come on, Grady, it shouldn’t be such a difficult decision.”

  It seemed for a moment as if he was about to decline, then, to her enormous relief, he got to his feet. “I’m not much good at this,” he muttered.

  He walked stiffly at her side to the dance floor. Then he put his arm around her waist, but maintained a space between them as if he feared she carried something contagious.

  “I don’t generally bite,” she said, amused more than insulted.

  “Really?” he asked and drew her somewhat closer.

  The music was soft and mellow, and they shuffled their feet a bit, not really dancing, which was fine with Caroline. Her skill was limited, too. She looked out over the dance floor and recognized quite a few couples. Savannah and Laredo were lost in each other’s arms. How she envied the happiness her friend had found. Caroline’s heart ached with a sudden loneliness for that kind of love and contentment.

  “Why’d you ask me to dance?” Grady asked gruffly.

  “I figured I’d have to,” she said. “The last time we spoke, you said I’d have to ask you.”

  She felt some of the stiffness leave his body. “In other words the ball’s in my court now.”

  Caroline grinned. “Something like that.”

  Grady’s hold on her tightened and he gave a deep sigh as he eased her closer. For several moments, neither one spoke.

  Caroline knew she’d have to bring up the subject of their last argument. This was her opportunity to mend fences with Grady, and she didn’t want to waste it. “I felt bad after our conversation the other day.”

  “I did, too,” he said. “I’m a bit of a hothead.”

  “And I’m too impatient.”

  They didn’t seem to have much more to say after that, and before long the dance was over.

  “I didn’t step on your toes, did I?” he said as they walked off the floor.

  “I seem to have survived.”

  He grinned, and she smiled back. Caroline held her breath, hoping maybe now he’d ask her to dance. He didn’t.

  “Thanks,” he said when they returned to the sitting area.

  “You’re welcome.” Caroline turned away, swallowing her disappointment.

  GLEN COULDN’T SIT STILL. He’d been home from the dance for an hour and hadn’t stayed in any one position for longer than five minutes. He sat down in front of the television, then bolted upright and stalked to the kitchen, thinking feverishly.

  He brewed himself a cup of instant coffee and carried it into the living room. Cal was watching the late-night newscast and glanced curiously in his direction.

  Glen sat back down, but was squirming a few minutes later.

  “What in tarnation is the matter with you?” Cal demanded when Glen bounded out of the recliner for the sixth time in as many minutes.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” Glen lied.

  “You’re thinking about Ellie again, aren’t you?”

  He was, but Glen had no intention of admitting it. “What makes you say that?”

  Cal gave a bark of laughter. “Because, little brother, you’ve got it written all over you.”

  “Got what?”

  “You’ve fallen for Ellie.”

  Glen opened his mouth to deny it, but changed his mind. After the spectacle he’d made of himself in front of the entire community, he’d look like an even bigger fool claiming otherwise. He did have feelings for Ellie, but he hadn’t decided what they were. He was protective of her, like a brother, but his reactions to Richard and his behavior that evening had proved it was more than that. He wasn’t sure anymore what he felt.

  “Richard drove her home,” he muttered, stating for the first time what had been on his mind since leaving the dance.

  “You don’t trust him to be a gentleman?”

  “Damn right, I don’t.” The more Glen thought about Richard alone with Ellie, the more agitated he got. It would be just like that scumbag to try something with her. Ellie knew how to handle herself, but she was vulnerable, and Richard was just the kind of man who’d try to take advantage of that.

  “I’m driving into town,” he announced. He wanted to reassure himself that Richard had gone—and he wanted to talk to Ellie.

  “Now?” Cal glanced at his watch. “It’s nearly midnight.”

  “I don’t care what time it is.” Decision made, Glen reached for his jacket and hurried to the door. He should have followed Ellie home, that was what he should’ve done, but they’d barely spoken after their big scene.


  “You might phone her first,” Cal suggested.

  Glen paused and considered his brother’s idea, then shook his head. “I have things to say, and that’s best done face-to-face.”

  “What are you going to say to her this time of night?” Cal wanted to know.

  “I’m not sure yet,” Glen admitted, letting the screen door bang shut. He hadn’t worked anything out; maybe the moment would bring some inspiration.

  The drive into town was accomplished in record time. He parked on her street, drew a couple of shaky breaths and headed for her house. He rang the bell, and when she didn’t immediately appear, he pounded on the door.

  The porch light went on and then he heard Ellie moving about on the other side. “Who’s there?”

  “Glen!” he shouted loud enough to wake half the neighborhood. “Open up, Ellie. I need to talk to you.”

  “It’s the middle of the night,” she protested, but he heard the lock turn.

  She was wearing a flannel robe cinched at the waist. Her hair was mussed and he could see he’d roused her from bed. She didn’t invite him inside, which was just as well.

  “I’m warning you,” she muttered. “This had better be important.”

  “It is.” Then to his acute embarrassment, his mind went blank. Not only that, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Even without makeup, her hair flattened on one side, she was beautiful. It astonished him that he’d spent all that time with her week after week, year after year, and had never really seen her.

  “Would you kindly stop staring at me!”

  Glen hadn’t realized he was. “Is Richard with you?” he asked and knew immediately that this was the worst possible thing he could have said.

  In response Ellie slammed the door in his face.

  Glen clutched the frame, knocked his forehead against the door and gritted his teeth. Hoping she’d give him the opportunity to redeem himself, he pressed the doorbell again.

  “Ellie, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” he shouted, praying she could hear him.

  His apology was met with silence. Then finally, “Go away.”