by Pat Dale
“Wonderful. Curly and Burl are bringin’ the horses. Since Will’s too busy fixing’ the meal, you can ride his today. We’ll meet in the outer yard down by the lake in fifteen minutes or thereabouts.”
“See you then.” She raced upstairs, pulling her shorts off and grabbing her jeans. This was a perfect way to end the first week of her newfound freedom. By the time she’d brushed her long ebony locks back into a pony tail and changed into a fresh tank-top, she could see the boys leading the spare horses into the yard.
* * *
After a busy weekend of writing, swimming, and eating more of Will’s fantastic food, Monday rolled around, and with it, Samantha’s zeal for completing her book flourished. The weekend had proven quite relaxing. A hilarious boat ride with Kasha, Peggy, and Ted, gave her a chance to get to know the other writers better. While Ted had some short stories and a couple of poems to his credit, the others were unpublished as of yet.
Kasha was heavily into paranormal, vampires and werewolves, bloody chill-creating novellas that Samantha didn’t care for. The girl was lots of fun to talk to, though, and there were readers for all genres. How paranormal would ever mate with regency, she had no clue, but that was Kasha.
Peggy was a die-hard romance junkie, and well into her debut novel in that genre. Samantha wasn’t a fan of sweet romances, so couldn’t really discuss plot lines with her. Sam’s taste ran more to spicy romance.
Now it was time to get to work on her writing. She powered up the laptop and began crafting the lead-up to the dark moment of the plot. This was always her favourite part of writing a rough draft. She could let her imagination go wild as she put the heroine in an untenable spot, with the hero seemingly unable to come to her rescue.
Chapter Sixteen
Troy couldn’t stand the wait any longer. After lunch on Friday, he turned the office over to Julie after touching base with his dad. It was time to head south in search of his missing fiancée. His plan was to go directly to Tyler and find the location of the Werner Writers Retreat. After that was accomplished he’d figure out the best way to approach Samantha without further infuriating her.
One quick stop at his house to pick up the bags he’d packed, and he was on his way. Choosing the fastest and smoothest route to his destination, he cruised west and then headed south on Highway 71, listening to the latest recording by JT and his band. Recalling JT and Rose’s quickie wedding, he chuckled. Talk about a match made in Heaven.
After a fast meal in Fayetteville, he chose to drive on through the night. Finally, after travelling Route 71/Interstate 540, he checked into a motel in Texarkana for a few hours of fitful rest. Unable to sleep, he got up before the sun and grabbed a quick breakfast sandwich before continuing on his way again.
When he reached Shreveport, he headed west on Interstate 20 into Texas as far as Highway 69, the road that would get him to Tyler, arriving there in late afternoon. He didn’t bother with lunch so he was famished when he drove down Broadway through the east Texas city to a major intersection. He turned east, looking for fast food. Instead, he chose a neat looking café on the eastern outskirts of town.
A cute little blonde waitress, whose accent you could cut with a carving knife, took his order. When she brought his coffee, he used the opportunity to get some information. “Excuse me, have you ever heard of a writer’s retreat around here. I think the owners’ name is Werner.”
She smiled and nodded. “Yep. Everybody ‘round here knows the Werners. They have a nice place out east of town. You lookin’ fer ‘em?”
Troy could hardly believe his good luck. “I’m on my way there, but I left my directions back home in Branson.”
“Branson, like in Missouri? You from way up there?”
“Sure enough. Ever hear of Jason Tawdry?”
“You mean the country singer? Sure I have. Hell, anybody knows ‘bout JT. Why, you know him?”
“I was the best man at his wedding this summer.”
“No way! I got to tell you, chills run up and down my spine when I hear that man sing. Don’t suppose you could finagle an autograph for me, could you?”
“I could, but he’s on tour now.”
“You said he got married?” She actually sighed. “Didn’t know that. Guess I’ll have to scratch him off my list.”
Troy laughed. “Yeah, good idea. That little redhead he got hitched to would be hell on a mission. Already going to have his baby.”
“Oh my God. So there’s gonna be a little JT runnin’ ‘round.”
“Or a little Rose. They didn’t want to know if it’s going to be a boy or a girl, so we’ll have to wait to find out.”
“What’s your name?” She’d been eying him during their conversation, her eyes darkening from pale blue to an inky blue-blackness. “You say you’re a Missourian. You got a girl, or a wife?”
“That’s a hard question to answer, but if you’re thinking of putting me on that list of yours, you might be disappointed again. At the moment I have neither a girl nor a wife, but I hope to have both in the near future. And my name’s Troy.”
“Troy, huh?” She blinked rapidly and cleared her throat. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys who marries a bunch of women and has kids by all of ‘em.”
Troy guffawed. “You mean like the guy that got sent off to prison down here a while back? No way. I meant I have my eye on the girl who will become my bride soon.”
“Oh! Well, that’s good. I mean, she’s probably not a girl who’d wanta share her man, either.”
“Samantha?” He laughed again. “Not on your life.”
“Samantha, huh? She live ‘round here?”
“At the moment.”
“She got a last name?”
“Yes, but you’re not going to believe it.”
“Try me.”
“Samantha Turner.”
“Is she a writer?”
“That’s why I’m looking for the Werner Retreat. She’s there now working on her manuscript. You ever read romance novels?”
“Yeah, I love them things all to pieces. ‘Specially them Historicals.”
“You mean like Regency, or Victorian?”
“Yeah, whatever. I mean, the men way back then got away with murder the way they treated their women.”
“You got that right. Anyway, that’s what Samantha writes.”
She turned away when a bell rang from the kitchen. “That’s your dinner. I‘ll bring it right back.”
She was back in a minute with his steak dinner. “Here you go, Troy. Enjoy your dinner.”
“I will. By the way, what’s your name?”
“Josie. Josie Walker. You need anythin’, just holler fer Josie.” With a dazzling smile, she went off to wait on another customer who’d just sat down.
The steak was everything he could ask for. Done as he’d ordered, juicy and loaded with flavour. He made a mental note to eat here again while in town.
After a delicious slice of apple pie and one last cup of coffee, he asked Josie for directions to the Werner place. She gave him such specific instructions he had to ask, “Josie, you know that place? You sound like you’ve been out there a bunch.”
“Yep. I have. Curly and Burl, two of the guys who work for them, are on my list, too.” She winked at him. “Guess I got a better chance with them.”
“Both of them?”
“Not at the same time. But, yeah, I’d saddle up with either one of ‘em.”
“Speaking about saddle up, they have horses out there?”
“How’d you guess? That’s mostly what they look after for the Werners.”
“If I meet up with them, you want me to say hi for you?”
“No way! Handsome guy like you, they’d be green with jealousy, thinkin’ you’ve been makin’ time with me.”
Troy laughed. “In that case, I’ll keep my mouth shut. Tell me something, Josie, you been out there lately?”
“Sure. I went on a little trail ride with the boys and some of them write
rs just the other day.”
“Maybe you saw Samantha. She’s raven haired with dark eyes and olive skin. Looks like she just stepped out of one of her historical romances.”
“Oh! That Samantha! Well, hell yeah, I met her. She rode with us. That’s your Samantha?”
“The very one, only right now she wouldn’t admit to being mine.”
“Sounds like you got romance problems of your own, Troy.”
“You could say that, but I’m here to take care of it. As long as it takes.”
He handed the cheque and his credit card to her and waited while she went to the register with it. By sheer luck, he’d stumbled onto the one person who could tell him what he needed to know, and she’d given him a way he could approach Samantha that would get past her defences. Now to find this place and plan my strategy.
By the time he left the café, it was dark outside. Saturday night in Tyler and nothing to do, he found a small motel on the east edge of town and checked in. In the morning, he’d go on a spy mission to locate Samantha. For now, he’d get a good night’s rest and let it go at that. For the first time in two days, he was relaxed, but so dog tired he was ready to put his head on a pillow.
* * *
Sunday morning dawned grey and overcast, with a fine mist settling the dust in Tyler. Troy looked out at the rain, remembering the reddish sunset from the previous evening, just like the old sailor forecasting legend. This might make his plan a bit more uncertain.
After a quick shower, he got dressed and grabbed the local phone book. There were two car rental agencies listed. He dialed the first one but got no answer. No surprise there. On a Sunday, the other one probably won’t be open either.
To his relief, the second one was open and had several vehicles available. He got directions and promised to be there shortly. That big red Lexus was a dead giveaway if Samantha saw it. He’d rent a different car so he could approach the retreat with impunity, leaving the Lexus at the rental agency. From what Josie said, he was sure it was Samantha out there, but he had to make sure.
Once he knew it was her for sure, he’d spring his little surprise visit on her. Chuckling to himself, he went straight to the rental office and picked up a charcoal Dodge Charger, leaving the Lexus behind the security barrier. It wasn’t one of the more garish RT’s, but performed well and was comfortable. Using Josie’s directions, he headed east and soon found the gate with a sign with the WWR logo emblazoned on it.
Instead of turning in, he slowed to a crawl and scoped out the place. There was a main house and, behind it, what looked like a boathouse. That’s when he spied the lake beyond the grounds. Rolling slowly along, he let the car carry him to the next driveway and used it to turn around.
He hadn’t seen Samantha’s car but it must be there somewhere. Just as he approached the Werners from the other direction, the Volvo pull out onto the road, with Samantha driving. His pulse rate doubled at the sight of her. She glanced his way, but didn’t recognize him or the car.
Tempted to accelerate and chase her down, he held back. Maybe this would be a better way to handle their reunion. He slowed, allowing her to accelerate away at a rapid pace. Yep, that’s my girl. Never lets the grass grow under her wheels. He pulled into the lane and rolled up to the circle drive at the front of the house.
As he was getting out of the Charger, a middle aged woman stepped out to greet him. “Hello. I’m looking for the Werners.”
“Well, you just found one of ‘em. I’m Marybeth. You a writer?”
“No. Just in love with one. I saw Samantha pulling out of here a minute ago.”
Marybeth chuckled “You must be Troy Roberts.”
“You know my name?”
“Yep. That girl talks about you all the time. She’s tried to tell me she’s over you, but I know better. Your bein’ here tells me you aren’t over her either.”
“Not by a long shot. Since you seem to know so much about us, I’ll tell you why I came down here. Her folks and I did something stupid, and I want to find a way to apologize. She’s got a fiery temper, so it won’t be easy.”
“I don’t know her all that well yet, but that squares with what I do know. Did you bring that ring she threw back at you?”
“I did.” Troy patted his shirt pocket. Now I intend a way to add another ring to this one.”
“Hot dog! I think I hear weddin’ bells. Well, Troy, let’s go in and sit over a cup of coffee. We can scheme somethin’ up that’ll work, I bet.”
“Will Samantha be gone long?”
“A couple hours, at least. She’s gone shoppin’ for some clothes. She didn’t bring enough with her apparently.”
He laughed. “Knowing her, she’ll take half the day for that. Too bad Missy isn’t here. The two of them go for daylong shopping jaunts.”
“Well, I figure we got plenty a time. Come on in, Troy.”
They sat across from one another, he was a bit uncomfortable with the way Marybeth was studying him. “You seem to have something to say. Go ahead and get it out, Marybeth.”
“I like you, young man. Don’t know much about you yet, but I’d say Samantha made a good choice in you.”
“Thanks for the endorsement. I’ll need that and more before she’ll even talk to me again, I’m sure. I have kind of an idea how to get her to keep from blowing up when we see each other first time. I understand you all have horses down here.”
“How’d you know that?”
“Josie Walker told me.”
She stared at him. “How do you know that little blonde firecracker?”
He laughed again. “I had dinner at the café where she waits tables.”
She joined in his laughter. “Well, that’s another endorsement for you, Troy. She don’t take to just anybody sits at her tables, she’s been known to use that sharp tongue of hers to cut smart alecks to pieces.”
“I can see her doing that, but we got along fine. She told me about Curly and Burl, and how they handle your horses. You happen to have a white one?”
“A white horse? As a matter of fact, we do. Why?”
He’d decided he could trust this lady with the truth. “A long time ago, Samantha told me something she repeated in a voice message after she disappeared. It gave me a clue to what I have in mind.”
“So what was it she said, makes you think you need a white horse?”
“She told me she wouldn’t sleep with me if I was the last cowboy in Texas. I plan to show up as just that.”
“Last cowboy in Texas? I don’t get it.”
“I’ll buy a cowboy get-up in town, and come out here. If your boys will help, I can ride up on that white horse. She’ll be so surprised she’ll keep her mouth shut for a change. Long enough for me to say my piece.”
Marybeth guffawed and slapped her thigh. “That would work. Only thing is, you ever sit a horse before?”
“Yeah. Samantha and I used to go horseback riding when we were kids.”
“You two ever do any other kind of horsing’ ‘round?”
He felt his face go hot. “Yeah. Kinda.”
“Kinda? That don’t sound like the man Samantha told me about. From what she said, you could have set up your own stud farm and charged a thoroughbred fee.”
That got him totally flustered. How much of his past had she talked about, for heaven’s sake? “I’m embarrassed, if you must know. I mean, I was on my own for ten long years waiting for her to get off her high horse. What was I supposed to do, shave my head and join a monastery?”
“No, Troy. Damn it, I’m sorry. I understand about sowing wild oats and such. Please forgive this nosy old woman’s flappin’ tongue.”
“For what it’s worth, I didn’t sow much of a crop in all that time. Problem is, I let rumours fly, hoping that would get her to come around. Didn’t work.”
She reached across the table to take his hand in hers. “Well, that girl loves you, sure as shootin’. Let’s get this done so the two of you can have some kids to worry about as you get
old and grey.”
Her expression was sincere as she patted his hand. He squeezed her fingers. “For what it’s worth, you’re not old and grey. But you are old enough and wise, I’m glad she found you. Now I’ve got to get to town and buy my cowboy getup. I know what I want, but I’ll have to avoid Samantha while I’m in town.”
“You can try the Tyler Tack Shop. They’re way on the south side of town and I doubt Samantha’ ll wander down there today. She went to the Mall, lookin’ for jeans and shirts.”
When Troy went back outside, the rain had let up and the sun was trying to shine through the clouds. Things were looking up, he contemplated what was to come in the next day or two.
Chapter Seventeen
Samantha turned off the windshield wipers as the sun played peek-a-boo with the town below. It was her first day away from the Werners and she hoped to be able to scout this Texas city out. As pleased as she was with her productive week, the idea of settling here seemed more likely than she would have thought possible. She’d lived in Columbia for her college years, but she was still a small town girl at heart.
Tyler was somewhat smaller than Columbia, but it was way larger than Flanders. Maybe bigger than Branson, but with a Texas flair. She found the Mall, a bit surprised that it wasn’t one of the huge rambling monstrosities she was used to. It did have a generous number of national franchises, though, and her credit cards would help her conserve the dwindling stack of greenbacks in her purse.
After loading her arms with several pairs of jeans, a dozen shirts and tees, and a new bikini, she headed out into the bright sunlight. The world was looking good. Now to find a place for some good food. Will was a fantastic cook, but his food tended toward hot stuff her stomach wasn’t a real fan of. Maybe some good old-fashioned fried chicken would do the trick.
She pulled into the lot of an east Tyler café which was just what she was looking for. Inside, she took a place at a back corner table, happy to get a seat in the crowded restaurant. Lots of church goers apparently made this their after services place of choice. A pretty blonde came to wait on her. She looked at the girl, recognizing her face, but unsure from where.