Suddenly Texan

by Victoria Chancellor

  She turned her attention back to the light brick and wood one-story ranch style home. “This house is older, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, that’s where Cal and Troy grew up. The new place was just finished last year. Christie worked with an architect to get what she wanted. Like I said before, she has excellent taste and knows quality.”

  “Yes, I can see that. Is anyone living in the original house now?”

  “No, I don’t think so.” Leo put his arm across the back of the seat and studied her, his brow slightly furrowed beneath a swirl of golden hair. “Why, are you looking for a place to rent? I don’t think Cal would be interested. His brother, Troy, and his wife, Raven, stay at the old house when they visit.”

  “No, I didn’t mean that I was interested for myself. It’s just that…well, it’s still a nice house and it seems a shame that it’s…abandoned.”

  Leo’s face revealed his confusion. Darn it, she’d asked too many questions. Made too many comments. But she’d felt such an affinity for the older house, the one where her mother had lived for years with her husband and sons before she’d fled.

  If only her mother had told everyone the truth about the daughter she’d given birth to in Arkansas and left there with her parents to raise, they could have lived together in this house. Maybe things would have been tense at first, but Amanda was pretty sure they could have worked out their problems.

  After all, that’s what families did. Mentally stable people in families, she corrected herself.

  “So, you want to see the chickens?”

  “Oh, sure.”

  Leo put the truck in gear and drove around the house toward the barn. On the right side of the gravel drive was an area fenced with small gauge wire and wooden railings. A big flock of chickens pecked and scratched at the brown clumps of grass, and when they heard the truck, some of them extended their wings and ran faster than Amanda thought possible across the pasture.

  “Those are speedy chickens.”

  “They don’t know my truck.”

  “Are you telling me they’re smart enough to know the difference between one truck and another?”

  “Maybe. Did you ever see the animated flick Chicken Run?” he asked as he headed toward a pasture fenced in heavy planks. “No.”

  “Very funny movie, especially if you like the Steve McQueen classic, The Great Escape. You should come up some night. I have both on DVD. I make a mean bag of popcorn, and I love to discuss movies.”

  As much as she’d enjoy seeing Leo’s condo—and more of Leo—she didn’t have the luxury of a movie night. “I’m only going to be here a few more days. As a matter of fact, I may have to relocate tomorrow.”

  “Why?” He pulled to a stop near the fence.

  “The Sweet Dreams Motel is very nice, but it’s also expensive. My budget doesn’t allow me to stay in the best places. I looked online this morning and found a couple of cheaper motels in Graham.”

  “You don’t want to stay in those.”

  “No, I’d rather stay where I am, but I just can’t afford it.”

  “I mean, those cheap motels are mostly for manual laborers. Workers. Rough men. You can’t stay there.”

  “Well, I guess I’ll camp out in my car then. It won’t be the first time. I’ll just need to find a park with showers and restrooms, or I could—”

  “No,” Leo said emphatically, shaking his head. “That’s not going to work. We don’t have any parks with facilities around here, and it wouldn’t be safe, anyway.”

  “Leo, I’ve traveled all over the western United States by myself and never had any problems.” Except that one time where some drunks wanted her to party with them at a state park in Colorado.

  “I know this area, and I’ve got to say that your plans aren’t going to work.”

  “What’s not going to work is me paying almost a hundred dollars a night just for a place to sleep and shower!” She folded her arms across her chest and looked out the window. Shaggy bison grazed in the pasture behind the heavy fence.

  “I’ll talk to Christie. I’ll get you the ‘friends and family’ rate.”

  “No!” She turned back to him. “I’m not taking money out of her pocket. She’s pretty booked up at the motel. I asked the manager.”

  Leo frowned again. “You’re one of those stubborn, independent types, aren’t you?”

  “Yes! Do you have a problem with that?”

  He sighed. “No, of course not. My older sister is exactly the same. And Christie is pretty single-minded at times. She calls it determined. My mother runs the grocery store in town. I’m surrounded by women who have their own opinions about everything.”

  “Then you must understand.”

  “What I understand,” he said, setting off again, “is that I need to get you back to the café for your lunch meeting. And then I need to find a solution to your housing problem.”

  “Key word there being my housing problem. I’ll find a solution.”

  Leo grinned at her as the truck churned gravel. “You’re in Texas now, darlin’. We take our hospitality seriously.”

  Amanda shook her head and rolled her eyes. She doubted Leo took anything seriously.

  “I’M RESEARCHING SOMEONE who lived in Brody’s Crossing until the early nineties. Luanna Crawford.” She wasn’t going to mention her mother’s maiden name, even though genealogists identified women that way. Allen was also Amanda’s last name and these women would realize the connection.

  She paused and watched the faces of the ladies sitting across from her. Clarissa Bryant was blond and busty, probably on the plus side of sixty, and she owned the beauty shop. Venetia, the slimmer woman beside her, had harsher features and a permanent frown. She also worked at Clarissa’s House of Style, but Amanda had a hard time understanding why anyone would trust her with their hair.

  “That was a long time ago,” Clarissa said. “Who’s asking about Luanna after all these years?”

  “She has…had relatives in Arkansas. One of her second cousins is preparing a complete family chart, photographs and stories for an elderly relative’s birthday celebration. Because Luanna left Texas so quickly, the family lost track of her.”

  “She had two fine sons she abandoned,” Venetia added.

  “Now, Venetia, you know Luanna had her problems,” Clarissa admonished.

  Venetia snorted.

  “I do plan to talk to her sons, but I’d rather meet with them privately and tell them what I’m doing here,” Amanda said. “I’d really appreciate it if you could keep our discussion confidential.”

  “That’s not always easy in a small town,” Bobbi Jean Maxwell advised. She’d been introduced as a retired schoolteacher and Amanda could certainly believe that she’d once ruled a classroom. She seemed nice, but decisive.

  “Oh, sorry I’m late.” A trim, middle aged lady bustled in the door. “I had a complicated phone call at James’s office right when I was leaving.”

  “Hi, Caroline,” Clarissa said. “We saved you a seat. And we have a special visitor today.”

  “Caroline Brody, this is Amanda. She’s a genealogist. She’s researching Luanna Crawford. Caroline works in her son’s law office.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Amanda, but really—Luanna! Why, that was at least fifteen years ago.”

  “Nineteen, but who’s counting except Troy and Cal,” Venetia muttered.

  Amanda got the distinct impression that Venetia didn’t like Luanna or what she’d done to her family. If she was that judgmental, what must the Crawford sons think? Amanda mentally shuddered at the idea of confronting her brothers. Or at least her eldest brother—the one most like their stern, unforgiving father. But it had to be done. Curtis Salter, the attorney for the generous customer at the diner where her mother had worked, would contact Luanna’s heirs next Wednesday whether or not Amanda had told them they had a sister.

  The waitress came by and took Caroline’s drink order and delivered tea and coffee to everyone else.

 
“Are you a Brody as in Brody’s Crossing?” Amanda asked, dipping her tea bag into the hot water.

  “Yes, my husband’s family was one of the town founders, along with the Crawfords and several others. They settled here about twenty years after the Civil War ended, back when it was pretty wild in Texas.”

  “I’ll bet you have some good family stories.” Amanda stirred a packet of sweetener into her tea.

  “There’s a book at our public library,” Caroline said. “A lot of the families contributed to it several years ago. Bobbi Jean edited the book and had it bound so everyone could enjoy the stories.”

  “The library. I didn’t know you had a library.” And I should have thought to ask. Public libraries and historical societies in small towns were one of the best resources a genealogy researcher had. “Where is it?”

  “In a room at the community center. That’s just two blocks from here, on Elm Street.”

  “I’ll go by there later. Thank you. Now, who knew Luanna Crawford the best?” She watched the faces of these women who had known her mother.

  “Probably be Myra Hammer,” Clarissa answered.

  Amanda remembered that name from the stack of letters she’d discovered in her mother’s dresser after she’d passed away. They’d contained accounts of what various people in the town had done over the years, especially Troy and Cal. There were also some photos.

  “Good luck talking to her,” Venetia scoffed.

  “Myra can be…difficult,” Bobbi Jean said.

  “That’s an understatement,” Caroline added.

  “Luanna came into my salon regularly and we talked,” Clarissa said. “Of course, beauticians and their clients have a kind of doctor-patient confidentiality.”

  “Luanna and I used to visit while my son, James, played with Troy at the ranch,” Caroline said. “Troy, Wyatt McCall and James were good friends all through school.”

  “My husband, Burl, was Troy and Cal’s 4-H sponsor and their high school math teacher,” Bobbi Jean added.

  Amanda hadn’t expected so many connections. “I suppose everyone has stories, then.”

  Caroline shook her head. “We haven’t talked about Luanna in a long, long time.”

  Clarissa folded her arms and leaned forward on the table. “This may take more than one lunch.”

  ONCE SHE GOT A PHONE NUMBER for Myra Hammer, Amanda went to the small library at the community center. She found some early Crawford family information, and even looked for the Casale name. No luck. Leo’s family must have come to Brody’s Crossing recently. She made copies of what she needed and put them in her file.

  She stayed in her parking space long enough to place a call to Myra Hammer. After a few rings, a man answered.

  “Myra ain’t here. She’s up in Oklahoma City with the grandkids, and I ain’t real sure when she’s getting back. Not that she cares much if the dishes and the laundry’s pilin’ up.”

  “Um, well, I’ll call back in a day or two.”

  “Whatever suits you,” the gruff voice replied.

  Wow, he was really an ill-tempered old coot. The lunch ladies had said Myra was “difficult,” but if that was her husband, who wouldn’t be? Of course, Amanda admitted, she didn’t know the whole story. Mr. Hammer could be a saint compared to Myra, which would present a whole new set of obstacles in getting information about Luanna.

  After driving around the downtown area to get a better feel for Brody’s Crossing, she headed south to the county seat, Graham. She wanted to see what legal papers had been filed against or by her mother.

  She expected to see divorce papers, since her mother had mentioned Calvin Crawford had filed for divorce on grounds of desertion. That had been a bad day, when her mother had gotten the forwarded letter. She’d gone into a depression that had lasted almost a month, staying in her bedroom while Amanda got herself ready for school each day and fixed dinner each night. The hardest thing was that she couldn’t do anything to make her mother feel better. Eventually, though, her mom had gone to the doctor and gotten back on medication.

  Amanda found the legal documents she was looking for on the second floor of the courthouse, then packed up her file and headed back to Brody’s Crossing, still thinking about her mother and those sad times in Oregon.

  Medication was all that had kept Luanna going some days. Venetia might have thought it was easy for Luanna to leave her sons, but it had been hard. Very hard.

  Amanda wished her mother had made a different choice, to stay and stand up to her husband—insist he was her daughter’s father. What a different life she would have led… But then, she would have been a different person, and she liked the independence she’d learned the hard way.

  “HI, CHRISTIE,” LEO SAID into his cell phone later that afternoon. He leaned back in his office chair at the hardware store. “How was the trip to Fort Worth?”

  “Very productive. We got clothes for Peter and Callie and some fabulous accessories for the family room.”

  “Did Cal hold up okay with all that shopping?”

  “He was a real trouper, but I had to promise him no more buying trips for a while. How are things with you?”

  “I had an interesting morning. There’s someone new in town. She’s staying at your motel, by the way.”

  “Really? What’s her name?”

  “Amanda Allen. She drives a Subaru with Oregon plates. Very independent and motivated.”

  “Sounds like an interesting person.”

  “She is, especially considering she’s fairly young. Around twenty-five, I’d guess. I gave her a ride out to the Rocking C this morning.”

  Christie hesitated. “Really? Why?”

  “She said she’d read about the ranch on the internet and wanted to see it. She did seem to admire what’s been done with the organic ranching.” He chuckled at the memory. “She seemed fascinated by farm animals.”

  “That’s not so odd. We have people stop by occasionally to see the bison.”

  “Yes, I know, but this was…different.”

  He could imagine Christie sitting up straighter. “Different as in dangerous?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I’m still trying to find out what’s going on. She says she does genealogy research and sells on eBay.”

  “What’s she doing in town, besides checking out the Rocking C?”

  “Research. On who, I don’t know, but I’m working on that.”

  “I’m sure you are,” Christie said, a hint of humor in her voice. She did know him well.

  “First, I’m going to stop by Clarissa’s to see what Amanda discussed with the ladies. She was meeting them at the café at noon. Then I’m going by the motel to see if she wants to go to dinner.”

  “Hmm. Good plan.”

  “One more thing,” Leo said. “She only had enough money for two nights at the Sweet Dreams. She claims she’ll sleep in her car if she needs to after I told her it wasn’t safe to stay in the cheap motels in Graham. Now, I’m not sure why she needs to be here for several more days, or why she’s fascinated by the Rocking C, but I know in my gut that they’re related.”

  “You really think she’s okay? Not a threat?”

  “I think she’s determined to find out whatever she came here for, and it does have something to do with genealogy.”

  There was no response from Christie for several long seconds. “You want her to stay, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can offer her a very reduced rate at the motel.”

  “She’ll be checking out tomorrow morning. She won’t accept what she sees as money out of your pocket. She learned that the motel is booked up for the weekend.”

  “Oh, that’s right. Well…let me think.”

  “I was thinking about the model condo.”

  “What about it?”

  “Amanda could stay there. If someone wants to view the model, we’d just make sure it was clean and get Amanda to go downstairs or…whatever.”

  “Whatever as in go over to
your condo?” Christie teased.

  “I’m insulted that you suspect I have ulterior motives. Besides, I’ve already asked her over to my place to watch movies and she said no.”

  “I’d be surprised if you didn’t have ulterior motives.”

  “Hey, it’s not every day that I meet an interesting woman who is also darn cute and smart.”

  “Cute and smart? Well, that’s better than a beautiful airhead.”

  “It’s been years since I dated an airhead.”

  “I’ll take your word for that. Okay, let me talk to Toni. If it’s okay with her, I’ll offer your cute, smart new friend the model condo for the duration of her time in town.”

  “Thanks, Christie. You know I’d do it myself, but she might think I had those ulterior motives in mind.”

  “And she’d be right. But I’d like to meet her myself and get a sense of why she’s so interested in the Rocking C.”

  “I think you’ll like her. She has that independent spirit, just like you.”

  “Thanks, I think. I’ll call you after I talk to her.”

  “Just make sure she stays in town.”

  “I’ll do my best. Bye for now.”

  “See you later, partner.”

  Leo slipped his phone into his pocket and smiled. Christie would be able to convince Amanda to stay. He had a strong suspicion that as soon as Christie introduced herself as a Crawford, Amanda would agree to almost anything. Now all he had to do was figure out why Amanda was so interested in folks around here.

  He might have a better chance of doing that when he asked her out to dinner at Dewey’s tonight.

  Chapter Three

  Amanda finished addressing the second “Better in Texas” postcard she’d written that afternoon. The first one was to her cousin Tammie in Arkansas, one of the few people she knew on her mother’s side. Tammie was two years older but they’d played together as children, and Amanda had moved in with Tammie’s family when Nana Allen died.

  A few weeks later, Amanda’s mother had come and gotten her. She didn’t seem to realize that for Amanda, being removed from everyone she knew—her first grade classmates, her family and neighbors—was a huge upheaval. All Luanna could talk about was the new life they were starting in Oregon.