West Texas Weddings

by Ginger Chambers

  Christine returned to the house and after closing the door safely behind her leaned against its bracingly cool surface and released a long sigh.

  MORGAN WAS OUT at the corral talking with a cowboy who’d just returned from one of the pastures when he looked up and saw Shannon approaching. The last he’d seen of her, she’d been behind the wheel of Mae’s big Cadillac, taking off somewhere with Christine. He’d wondered where they were off to, but with Rafe gone, he didn’t have a way of finding out. Christine was nowhere to be seen now, though.

  He finished with the cowboy and moved forward to greet her. “How’s it goin’?” he asked. “Missin’ Rafe already?”

  “Terribly.” She grinned.

  “Yeah, it looked like it. I saw you goin’ off for a joyride in Mae’s car.”

  “I took Christine to Del Norte to see the elementary school. You know Erin started today. She rode the bus with Jessica and Rusty.”

  “I heard somethin’ about it, yeah.”

  “Christine was worried since it all happened so suddenly. She didn’t even know where Erin was going. So I took her there, let her have a look around, and now she feels better.”

  “You like her, don’t you?” Morgan asked.

  Shannon nodded. “Yes, as a matter of fact I do.” Then, with a narrowing of her eyes, she added, “And you do, too, don’t you?”

  “Why are you askin’ me that?”

  “You Parker men!” Shannon said impatiently. “You’re all so darned slippery about being pinned down!”

  “I’m not a Parker.”

  She flashed him a wry look. “You’re just as good as. I’m asking because I’m curious. Harriet said something that made me—”

  “Ah, Harriet.”

  “She said she picked up on something yesterday that surprised her.”

  “What?”

  “She thinks you have feelings for Christine.”

  Morgan smiled. “Harriet’s hormones are playin’ games with her imagination.”

  “So, you’re denying it?” Shannon pressed him.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Oh!” She stamped a foot in frustration. “I don’t know why I bother!”

  Morgan felt like a stallion caught in a box canyon. “Yeah, I like her,” he admitted after a moment.

  Shannon rolled her eyes and sighed. “Now was that so hard?” She hooked her arm in his and walked with him back toward the compound. “I truly do like her, Morgan. I don’t know how this is going to end up—I know she can’t inherit a piece of the ranch—but little Erin is so happy here. And I think Christine is, too—as much as she’ll let herself be. I think—” Shannon bit her lip “—she’s had such a hard time in her life that she doesn’t know what a real home is. She hasn’t said anything, but.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean,” he said.

  Shannon switched subjects. “We met someone out on the road to town today. A man.”

  Morgan raised one brow. “Am I the one you should be telling this to?”

  She ignored him. “He said he was looking for some steers he’d had stolen. And what he described sounds a lot like what’s been happening around here. Fence posts cut down and then set back up as if nothing had happened. He said he’s lost ten or twelve head.”

  Morgan stopped walking and turned to face her. “On the road, you say?”

  “He was having trouble with his car—his pickup truck, actually. He was towing a livestock trailer. Something was wrong with one of the tires.”

  “Did you see something wrong with one of the tires?”

  Shannon shrugged “No, but by the time we got there, I think he’d already fixed it.”

  “Did he say he was from around here?”

  She frowned. “He didn’t say, but I got the feeling he wasn’t. Morgan, what is it? Why are you—”

  “One more thing. What’d he look like?”

  “Dirty. Needed a bath. Youngish—late twenties? Brown hair. Morgan, tell me, what is it?”

  “Well…it’s kinda strange for someone to be out on the road tryin’ to track down a rustler himself. And carrying a trailer. Did he think he’d find the cows standin’ around and just be able to chute ‘em up and take ‘em home?”

  “I told him to go talk to Sheriff Denton or Tate. That maybe they could help him.” She eyed Morgan closely. “But you don’t think he’s going to do that, do you?”

  Morgan shrugged. “He could be on the up-and-up. Strange things happen all the time. We’ll know if the sheriff gets a call.”

  “I didn’t like the look of him,” Shannon said. “I don’t think Christine did, either.”

  “Where was this?” Morgan asked.

  “Off the ranch. About three miles down the road to Del Norte.”

  “That’s pretty close by.”

  “He wasn’t there when we came back.”

  Morgan laughed. “It would’ve been strange if he was. Then we’d really start askin’ some hard questions. You didn’t see. him in town, did you?”

  “No, but then we weren’t looking for him, either. What are you going to do, Morgan?”

  “First, call the sheriff. Second, call Ed Davis.”

  “You think he was one of the rustlers, don’t you?”

  “I think…we need to wait and see.”

  “Oh, Lord,” she murmured.

  “Keep it under your hat, okay? No use causin’ an uproar if we don’t need to.”

  “Don’t tell Christine, you mean?”

  “Don’t tell Mae,” he clarified.

  Shannon understood completely. With Rafe away, he would be the one to catch the full force of Mae’s worry.

  CHRISTINE AND SHANNON worked on the familyhistory corrections for most of the afternoon, and Christine found herself becoming caught up in the sto ries. She was working on the early history, which told how the two Parker brothers had come to what others considered a godforsaken land and through hard work and dedication carved out the beginnings of what came to be known as the Parker Ranch. How they and their offspring had held on to it through Indian and outlaw attacks, through the Civil War, through numerous droughts.

  “This is amazing,” she murmured as she leafed through the pages. “I mean, every family has a history, but so very few can pass it on—especially all these letters and documents and photographs.”

  Shannon looked up from her work. “I was amazed by it, too. And captivated. You can see why this land means so much to the Parkers.”

  Christine grew still, and Shannon, seeing it, was quick to say, “I didn’t mean it like that. I only meant—”

  Christine shook her head. “No, it’s exactly as you say. The ranch does mean a lot to them. That’s why…that’s why they don’t take kindly to someone from outside making a claim.”

  “Christine, truly, I didn’t mean…”

  Christine pushed away from the computer and stood. Then she wandered over to Mae’s desk and lightly fingered the brass pen-and-pencil set that was its only decoration. With her new knowledge she could see that her and Erin’s prospects were dim. The Parkers would never let her have a share in the ranch. By hook, by crook or by sterling truth, she would never see any profit from it—not money for Erin’s future, not a place for them to continue living. She should never have allowed Erin to start school. She should have held firm, not let herself be swayed by anyone, even Erin. Because, in all probability, they would soon have to pick up and move again.

  But there was nothing left in Houston for them to return to. Nothing anywhere, really. What if, when the Parkers had finally had enough and tossed them out on their ears, they found a little place in Del Norte? She could find a job in an office or a café. That way Erin could remain in school here, with her new teacher and her new friends, and continue to—

  Mae entered the room and stopped short, her gaze fastening on Christine’s handling of her pen. Christine immediately let go of it.

  Mae’s dark gaze instantly picked up on what Christine and Shannon were doing, but
she took her usual place behind the desk and proceeded with what she had come to say. “You’ve had a call,” she informed Christine tersely.

  Christine’s head jerked up. Her first thought was of Erin. Had something happened to her?

  “It was that person you told me about,” Mae continued, “Ira’s housekeeper, Mrs. Tobin.”

  “Mrs. Tobin?” Christine echoed.

  Mae’s strong features were tight. “Yes. She called to check on your welfare. She said she was worried about you.”

  Christine’s heart gave a tiny leap. Mrs. Tobin. Dear Mrs. Tobin!

  Mae’s set expression didn’t crack. “I confronted her with what you told me—that she could confirm you didn’t steal any of the articles Abigail and Brendan swear you did.”

  “And what did she say?” Christine asked faintly. Was there room for a small ray of hope?

  “She confirmed your story. She also explained that she left the week after you because Abigail was so nasty to her and made life so miserable she couldn’t stand it any longer. She said it was impossible for you to have stolen any of those things because she’d seen them in place herself when she dusted for the final time—a week to the day after you moved. She saw the jewels, which were in a clear case, all the pocket watches in their showcase, and she rubbed furniture oil on the desk itself.” Mae paused for breath and for effect. “Of course,” she continued levelly, “that’s exactly what would be expected of an accomplice.”

  Christine started to tremble with anger. To be exonerated of guilt, then to have that acquittal pulled out from under her was too much to handle. Her first instinct was to strike back. But Mae lifted a hand to forestall her.

  “There’s something more,” she said. “I called Abigail. She blustered and blathered, saying some more things I won’t tell you about But in the end she admitted it was all a lie. You never took anything. She’d made it all up—she and that brother of hers. They’re not fit to be Parkers, and I told her so. I also told her that if ever they took their charges further, I was going to see to it personally that they were charged themselves.” She paused to let all that sink in. Then, stiffly, she said, “I owe you an apology, Miss Grant. This changes nothing about where we stand on the ranch issue, but…fair is fair.”

  Christine was stunned. Seemingly, with a flick of her hand, Mae had disposed of most of the charges against her. She didn’t have to worry anymore about defending herself to the police or trying to prove something was a fact when her only witness had disappeared.

  “Mrs. Tobin…” she murmured.

  “She left her number in New Braunfels. Asked me to tell you to call her as soon as you have the time.”

  Getting up, Mae walked with a straight back to the door. It was only when she was about to step into the hall that Christine managed to find more words. “Mae?” she said. “Thank you.”

  The old woman paused and, turning her whole body, gave a curt nod before proceeding into the hall and closing the door behind her.

  Christine sank into a chair. Her relief was enormous. It felt wonderful to be vindicated. Particularly in Mae’s eyes. Yes, Mae’s, most of all. Because it was Mae who’d been so quick to doubt her.

  Shannon swooped down to give her a hug. “That’s wonderful, Christine. Wonderful! Do you know what it means to have Mae do that? She’s probably doubted Abigail and Brendan’s story all along. From everything I’ve heard about them they’re terrible people. Brendan’s always getting into some kind of woman trouble, and Abigail—Rafe discovered this only recently—has gotten into trouble with the law! It seems that not too long ago she shoplifted a necklace at Neiman Marcus. The store detective caught her, the police took her in, booked her, and when she had to appear before a judge, her temper got the better of her and she tried to attack the store detective. The judge gave her six months’ probation and told her the next time she assaulted someone she’d go to jail.” Shannon laughed. “Right now Mae’s probably trying to figure out how she can disown those two.”

  Christine smiled, still slightly stunned. So that was why, on the day she and Erin had left Ira’s house, Brendan had warned his sister about attacking her. He’d mentioned a judge. “Poor, poor Ira,” she murmured, shaking her head sadly. “He didn’t deserve children like that.”

  Shannon wordlessly nodded agreement.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ERIN HAD CHATTERED happily, well past her newly determined eight-thirty bedtime, about the school and all the children she’d met that day. She liked her teacher, she liked the food in the cafeteria, she liked the long bus ride. There wasn’t anything she didn’t like about the day. Except—Christine was sure she’d added this as a sop—she’d missed her mother on occasion. Christine had listened patiently, letting her wind down, then after the little girl was asleep, tried to wind down herself.

  She hadn’t realized she’d been so successful until her predawn awakening to Erin’s alarm clock. As she helped her daughter get ready for the day, she found herself feeling better than she had in ages. The extra rest, combined with the lifting of suspicion, allowed her a new sense of optimism. Not everything had worked out yet, but at least she wasn’t still being considered a thief!

  When she drove Erin to Little Springs that morning, it was Morgan who came out to talk with her.

  “Mornin”‘ he drawled, leaning down to fold his arms on the sill of her opened window.

  Unlike the man she and Shannon had met yester-day—who, Shannon later confided to her, Morgan suspected might be an actual rustler—Morgan, this close, disturbed her senses rather than offended them. He was a perfect specimen of a man in his prime—wideshouldered, slim-hipped, suntanned, vigorous. She’d responded to his innate virility right from the first.

  A smile slowly crossed his face. “I understand you’re to be congratulated,” he murmured.

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  “I know—that’s what I mean.”

  Christine waved at Erin, who was setting off with Jessica and Rusty for the bus stop. She knew she should restart the car and be off herself, but she couldn’t make herself move. Not as long as Morgan was willing to stay there and talk. She had this crazy need to be near him.

  “I did tell everyone I didn’t do it,” she reminded him.

  “You did.”

  “You didn’t believe me, either.”

  “I wanted to believe you.”

  “That’s not the way you acted.”

  “Oh?” His blue eyes moved over her, delivering a message of remembered intimacies.

  Christine swallowed. She was dancing dangerously close to the fire. To pull back a little, she said, “Shannon told me about that man yesterday—what you suspect about him. What are you going to do?”

  His smile told her he knew exactly what she was up to. But he played along. “Ed Davis has an idea or two he’s been working on. I might be givin’ him a little help.”

  A chill ran up her spine. “You mean, to help catch the man?”

  Morgan nodded, his blond hair glinting in the earlymorning light. “Him and anybody else he might be workin’ with.”

  “And that can be dangerous, right?”

  “It’s my job. It’s what I do.” His smile turned tender as he reached into the car and tipped up her chin. “Would you care,” he asked softly, looking directly into her eyes, “if something did happen to me?”

  “I—I—” But he didn’t give her time to finish.

  Instead, he leaned in and claimed the kiss she’d been longing to give him.

  “I won’t get hurt,” he promised quietly, “but I will come back and ask that question again. Think you might have an answer for me by that time?”

  Christine smiled tremulously. But she already knew the answer. Yes, she’d care! That was the trouble. She’d care a lot!

  He straightened and, with a short wave, watched her pull away. Later, his stance seemed to say. We’ll sort this all out at a time and in a place that offers more time and far more privacy.

 
; Christine’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. It seemed the only solid thing in her world.

  AFTER BREAKFAST, Christine again offered to assist Shannon with the history, and they worked straight through till noon. It was when they broke for lunch that the front doorbell rang. Shannon went to see who the caller was while Christine waited.

  “Package, miss,” a man’s voice said. “For Miss Mae Parker?”

  “I’m not Miss Parker,” Shannon replied, “but I’ll sign for her.”

  A clipboard was exchanged, Shannon signed her name, then the package was handed over. More of a packet, really, in a next-day-delivery mailing envelope.

  Shannon closed the door and rejoined Christine, and the two of them entered the dining room where Mae was already seated.

  Shannon handed her the envelope. “This just arrived for you,” she said.

  Mae took it and, after studying the mailing label, clasped it to her breast and swiftly left the room.

  Shannon lifted an eyebrow. “My goodness,” she said. “It must have been something she needed right away.”

  Christine shrugged and smiled at Marie, who was carrying a tray containing three chilled tuna salads on beds of lettuce.

  Mae didn’t return during the lunch break. Marie had to carry her salad back to the kitchen. She tsked at the empty chair each time she came to check on their progress.

  Christine and Shannon were passing the front door again, ready to go back to work, when Gib burst in. He looked more energized than Christine had ever seen him.

  “Where’s Mae?” he said quickly.

  Shannon frowned. “What is it, Gib?”

  He shook his salt-and-pepper head. “Mae called and told me to do something, but I don’t think I heard her right. She wants me to go find Rafe and bring him in.”

  “Bring Rafe in from collecting the horses?” Shannon said incredulously. “But I thought. Wouldn’t it take something like the end of the world for her to do that? I mean, he’ll be back day after tomorrow. Possibly even tomorrow—that’s what he told me.”