Lone Star Legacy

by Roxanne Rustand

  BY TWO O’CLOCK, the front and back yards were spotless, save for the larger car parts and the rusted VW, and the rubbish hauler agreed to pick up those things on Monday. Beth tipped the teenagers an extra twenty dollars for pizza, then collapsed on a wrought-iron bench in the front yard, exhausted.

  When Gina’s red Tahoe pulled up a few minutes later, Beth hobbled out to the curb to get Sophie out of her car seat. As soon as she was free, Sophie flew into Beth’s arms, her face alight with joy. “I had fun, Momma! We played games and dolls, and we had lunch…and they have a waterslide!”

  “I hope you don’t mind,” Gina said with a smile. “It’s one of those long plastic things with water jets. There’s nothing more fun than getting wet on a warm day.”

  “I’m just thrilled that Sophie got to visit.” Beth bent down to peer into the empty front and back seats of the vehicle. “Did everything go all right?”

  “The girls played nonstop.” Gina’s smile faded. “I had to drop Olivia off at her dad’s place on the way over here, though. He’s got her the rest of the weekend.”

  “That’s got to be so tough.” What would it be like, going back to a house that echoed with loneliness for an entire weekend? “Would you like to come in for some tea?”

  “I can’t. I have a meeting at church….” Her eyes widened as she took in the front yard. “Holy cow—what a difference!”

  “The troops landed this morning, and they left just a few minutes ago.” Beth closed her eyes briefly. “I cannot thank those kids enough for all they did. If I hadn’t promised to go to the Lone Wolf Spring Festival tonight, I’d just sit right here and enjoy looking at my clean yard.”

  “So you’ve got a hot date?” Gina teased.

  Beth rolled her eyes. “More of a mercy date, really. On both counts.”

  “Okay, now you have to tell me.”

  “Nothing much to tell. I think Joel wanted a human shield, so some of the overeager, matchmaking mothers in town will back off. And…well, a widowed mom with scars and a limp isn’t much of a prize. I just figured it would be a chance to get out for a few hours.”

  Gina looked appalled. “You make yourself sound old as Methuselah. What are you, child, pushing thirty?”

  “Thirty-two.”

  Gina propped her fists on her hips and surveyed Beth from head to toe. “And what scars?” She leaned closer and gently touched Beth’s cheek. “You can’t mean these faint ones here.”

  “A person can hardly miss them.” Beth pushed back the sleeve of her shirt to show off the scars on her arm. “Or these. Makes the classic little black cocktail dress a challenge, don’t you think?”

  “If it’s sleeveless, maybe, but not all of them are—and that isn’t what people wear to these affairs, anyway.” Gina tapped her lips with a neatly manicured forefinger. “Nice slacks and tops. Or spring dresses. Long sleeves would be fine, or you could add a pretty cashmere pashmina.”

  Beth glanced down at her T-shirt and old jeans. “I’m afraid I left the country club life back in Chicago.”

  “That’s it? Just jeans and shirts?”

  “Mostly. With a few skirts and sweaters thrown in.”

  “Well, babe, you are in luck today. Auntie Gina gained an unfortunate amount of weight after her divorce, and she has a whole wardrobe in the wrong size.”

  JOEL TOOK ONE LOOK at Beth, and nearly choked on his spearmint gum.

  Even in jeans and T-shirts, she’d looked trim and attractive, but in a body-hugging, rose-colored dress that didn’t begin to reach her knees and those silvery, high-heeled shoes, she looked incredible. Sexy.

  And she was exactly what he’d been hoping to avoid.

  The good thing was that the women who’d been flirting with him would see that he was unavailable, and he wouldn’t need to flounder for tactful, distancing conversation.

  The bad thing was that somehow he needed to keep his hands off Beth and remind himself that she was simply his friend and nothing more. She’d made that clear all along, and that had suited him perfectly…until now.

  What was it about those delicate sandals that made her slender legs look even more provocative? Or that fabric, which seemed to glow with a life all its own as it caressed each one of her delicate curves?

  Shaking off his reverie, he looked up and found that she was watching him with an uncertain expression in her eyes.

  “These aren’t my clothes,” she murmured. “If you think I’ve overdressed or not well enough, just say the word. Gina said I’d be okay, but…”

  He exhaled slowly. “Okay? You look fantastic.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far, but thanks.” She shot a teasing look at him. “Sophie said I looked almost as nice as her Princess Pony, so I’ll go with that.”

  If Princess Pony looked half as good as Beth, the franchise had to be worth a mint. “Did she mind you leaving for the night?”

  “Gina invited her over for the evening, so I imagine they’re watching movies and baking cookies by now.”

  The sounds of an excellent oldies band wafted through the trees from where Main Street was cordoned off for a dance.

  He’d planned to maintain a casual sort of distance, but he’d been outraged to learn of the damage done to Beth’s property, and with that anger had come an overwhelming surge of protectiveness. Now, it simply felt natural and right to take Beth’s hand as they walked the two blocks to downtown. And once they hit the edge of the crowd, draping his arm around her waist seemed only…practical, so they wouldn’t end up separated.

  Beth’s eyes widened when they reached the edge of the crowd. “Where on earth did all these people come from?”

  “From all over the county, probably. Small-town affairs always draw a good crowd.” He leaned down and drew her closer to be heard over a Beach Boys classic. “Want to dance?”

  “Nope.”

  “Please?”

  “Remember our deal? If I don’t dance, no one has to be embarrassed about how truly awful I am.”

  But when a slow dance came up, he held out a hand anyway. “Please? It’s been years since I did this, so I’ll probably embarrass you all to pieces. But I’d sure like to try just one dance, if you wouldn’t mind.”

  She hesitated, a blush tinting her cheeks. “I—can’t.”

  “Just here—in the shadows?” He gently pulled her into his arms, and she tentatively followed him. Stiffly at first, and then she relaxed into a slow and sensual sway to the intimate rhythm, dropping her head against his shoulder and locking her hands behind his neck.

  She smelled faintly of some sort of floral shampoo and another light, flowery scent that he couldn’t quite identify. The crowd seemed to fade away as he absorbed her warmth against his chest.

  He wanted the music to last forever.

  Then somehow, he found himself lifting her chin with a forefinger and dropping a kiss on her mouth. A tentative kiss, and then one that was deeper. Longer. More potent. He slid a hand down to the small of her back, pulling her closer—

  “Howdy, son.” Walt’s booming voice broke through the spell with the finesse of a loose bull in a flower bed. “Great to see you here!”

  Beth pulled back, her expression dazed, her lips swollen.

  “Um…glad to see you, too,” Joel muttered.

  “Sorry I interrupted.” His eyes twinkled. “Guess I’d better head over to the barbecue tent, and let you enjoy the dance—unless you want to join me and Loraine for a mighty good supper.” He glanced at his watch. “She oughta be here soon.”

  Joel wanted to go home and take Beth with him, so he could do a little more exploring of her exquisite mouth, but that was a bad idea. Then another slow dance started, and there was no contest between supper and a chance to draw her into his arms once again. “Maybe later, Walt.”

  This time, she didn’t hesitate quite as long when he asked her to dance. “Wonderful,” he murmured. “It’s been so long since I’ve done this.”

  “Heavenly.”

  She fo
llowed his lead, her body perfectly molded to his, through two more songs. But when the band switched into a rollicking rock-and-roll song, she backed out of his arms with a firm shake of her head. “I don’t think I can manage that just yet. It’s time to join your uncle for that barbecue, don’t you think?”

  The answer was no, but she was right. That barbecue was a lot safer than slow dancing his way into trouble. What had he been thinking, when he asked Beth out? It hadn’t really been about the other women who’d been pursuing him with their daughters and nieces, because he could handle that. And he hadn’t just been thinking about delving deeper into Beth’s past, either, on the pretext of keeping Walt’s finances safe.

  Nope—he’d been thinking about her smile. How much fun it was to talk to her, and tease her a little. And it was about how he was coming to admire her strength and resolve while she dealt with the loss of her husband, the raising of her little girl alone and the monumental project she was undertaking at Crystal’s Café.

  And maybe he’d been thinking about a whole lot more. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d spent a night with a woman, and Beth was stirring up all sorts of thoughts in that direction.

  But it was a direction he wouldn’t be going. Certainly not toward anything serious, and anything less would be unfair to her. She was the kind of woman who inspired thoughts of settling down, and he would never risk that kind of commitment again.

  With a deep sigh, Joel glanced at the dancers one last time, then followed her through the crowd.

  SOPHIE WRAPPED HER ARMS around Beth’s neck for her good-night kiss. “Can I go to Olivia’s house again someday?”

  “I’m sure you can, sweetheart. And as soon as we’ve got things in better shape here, we’ll invite her over. Okay?”

  Sophie nodded, rubbing her eyes. After her prayers, Beth gave her another kiss and tucked her in, then turned on her night-light and quietly slipped out of her room.

  Silvery moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting the living room in deep shadows. She curled up in the window seat with an afghan and rested her head against the window frame.

  Coyotes howled in the distance, and from one of the tall live oaks in the yard, an owl hooted. Lonely sounds that echoed the wistful feelings in her heart.

  What had she been thinking? Sure, she’d declined Joel’s invitation initially, but then she’d given in, figuring they were both adults. Figuring that she could keep this evening on a superficial, friendly basis. The two of them, just pals. Buddies. And after the vandalism at this place, she’d hardly been in a festive mood.

  But then he’d eased her out in the crowd during that wonderfully romantic Bill Medley song from Dirty Dancing, and she’d melted into his arms.

  He’d made her feel as if she were the most desirable woman on the planet, his attention totally riveted on her, and his large, warm hand at the small of her back, as if he wanted to absorb her into himself.

  Never had she felt such intense male focus. Such need to take it to the next level. If dear old Walt hadn’t jarred her back to reality, she just might’ve done something truly embarrassing, because she’d completely zoned out the others dancing in the street.

  It was as if she and Joel were the only ones there.

  How on earth had he done that? And with her—prim, proper Beth Lindstrom, who was hardly the stuff of any man’s fantasies.

  Yet during that incredible moment at the street dance, Joel’s kiss had promised passion and wild abandon and more. She’d never felt so cherished, so safe and protected.

  But he’d put on the brakes when his uncle showed up, and she had, too. Then they’d delved into a wonderful barbecue with Walt and Loraine, listening to the music until the band finally packed up for the night.

  Walt’s clients spanned two counties, and they all seemed to be there tonight. Many of them wandered by for a brief conversation.

  They’d politely talked to her and Joel, too…mentioning future construction projects and asking for his business card. Expressing interest in the café, and asking how she was progressing with the building, or offering condolences about the graffiti incident.

  They were warm, friendly folks. Small-town folks with connections to each other that ran deep, and generations of shared experiences that made them truly belong to this town, and to each other, with a sense of belonging that she’d never felt in the city.

  With each passing day she fell deeper into the quiet, laid-back rhythm of this town. What would it be like to stay here forever, to become a part of that fabric? It called to her in an elemental way. Maybe…if all went well with the café, she and Sophie could stay here for good.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  BETH DUSTED OFF HER HANDS, walked backward to the curb and studied the house with a critical eye.

  During the three weeks since the street dance, she’d thrown herself into renovating the place, imagining the day when she could reopen the café and start building a future for Sophie and herself in this town. Keeping busy had also helped distract her from her anonymous caller’s threat about “ten days or less,” though that deadline had come and gone without another word.

  The exterior now sported pale yellow paint with crisp white trim around the windows and doors. The front door itself was a cheerful, bright blue, with Crystal’s painted in bold diagonal script.

  She’d planned on doing the painting later, but covering the dark graffiti had entailed so many coats of paint that she’d finally given up trying to match new and faded yellows, and did the whole thing.

  She’d also added deep-blue window boxes filled with crimson geraniums, and white, half-barrel planters of geraniums at either side of the steps leading up to the front covered porch.

  Though she would have preferred lace, she’d saved that for the family quarters upstairs and had hung oyster-white vertical blinds at all of the main floor windows, opting for an effect that wouldn’t make the local cowboys cringe.

  Frowning, she turned to Gina. “Does it work? The colors, I mean.”

  Standing next to her, Gina grinned and gave her a quick hug. “Perfect. And it isn’t too froufrou for the ranchers, either. So…can I have the inside tour?”

  Beth hadn’t let anyone but Joel and Sophie into the café for the past several weeks. Now, she led her friend up the stairs, opened the front door and ushered her inside.

  “Oooh,” Gina breathed. She took a few more steps, then slowly turned, her eyes wide. “I love the blue gingham wallpaper. And the white wainscoting—perfect!”

  “It’s three-inch vertical pine, and just what I wanted. Joel found it in a house that was being torn down out in the country.” She nodded toward a smaller, more private dining area in the back. “He found those French doors out there, too.”

  Gina ran a hand over one of the tabletops set with gingham place mats. “Who refinished all of these tables?”

  “Mostly me, then Joel had to pitch in. Sanding the tables and chairs was far more work than I thought. He did the oak flooring, too.” Beth flexed her aching hands. “I just wish Crystal could see what we’ve done here. She was always so proud of her café.”

  Beth led Gina back to the kitchen, which now sported large fluorescent lights, gleaming fixtures and clean white walls. “The state inspectors came yesterday, so starting Monday, we’ll be in business. I’ll still be able to work at the clinic for a few hours in the late afternoons, though. The steady money will come in handy.”

  “Sounds like you and Joel make a great team.” Gina gave Beth a sidelong glance. “Any news in that department?”

  Beth rolled her eyes. “Of course not. He’s been doing a wonderful job for me and has charged half what he should have. I’m grateful, but that’s as far as anything goes.”

  She’d had to remind herself of that every day.

  Going to the town’s celebration had seemed like a reasonable favor to grant. She and Joel had reached an easy sort of working relationship by then, and it had sounded like a pleasant night out—the fi
rst she’d had since Patrick’s death.

  She hadn’t foreseen the incredible impact of those slow dances in his arms. The heat of his kiss.

  Or the fact that they’d end up in such an awkward situation afterward—that cautious, carefully superficial mode between two people who’d gone a little too far and instantly regretted it.

  Now she was careful to avoid inadvertent contact, and tried for only the most innocuous conversations, for fear that he’d misconstrue her actions as those of a love-hungry widow.

  He seemed even more cautious than she did—and was probably terrified that she was going to pursue him like the other women in town did.

  “…so, I think you two should fall head over heels in love, get married and stay right here in Lone Wolf,” Gina continued, gently elbowing Beth in the ribs. “Who will I go garage-saling with when you leave?”

  Beth pulled herself back into the present. “Honestly, I’ll miss you, too, if I move away.”

  She gazed at the Russell and Wyeth prints on the walls, and the collection of old chintz and calico teapots she’d brought with her from Chicago on a white hutch along the east wall. Even the extra tables and chairs had been bargain finds during the Saturdays she and Gina had gone treasure hunting.

  It had been years since she’d had the freedom to spend time with friends.

  Gina strolled across the room to the old-fashioned soda fountain, with its long marble counter and tall, red upholstered stools. “So what’s left, then?”

  “Just a few things upstairs. Varnishing. Wallpapering. A new area rug. More insulation up in the attic to help with the summer heat and chilly winters.” Beth sighed. “And then…I guess I’ll start checking out the Realtors in the area. If the café brings in some good business, it should help me get a good price. Or, it might even make staying here a possibility.”

  “I hope so. The thought of you leaving still makes me sad.” Gina grimaced as she glanced at her watch. “I’d better run, because I need to pick up Olivia at her dad’s place by noon. The less she’s around his new girlfriend, the better.”