“Lee—” Bette stopped when she realized what she’d said, then, seeming to decide that the damage had already been done, started again. “Lee told us what his brother did. Augusta never breathed a word.”
“She wouldn’t.”
“I never even knew you were engaged—and to a Parker! Oh, dam.” She grimaced. “I did it again, didn’t I?”
“It’s all right. Like I said...I was surprised last night. I never expected—”
“Neither did I! That’s what I was planning to tell you. I had no idea ‘Western Rambles’ had anything to do with one of the Parkers. But once that came out, I understood why the show’s such a success. Everything those people put a hand to succeeds.” Realizing that she’d committed yet another faux pas, Bette rushed on, as if that would somehow lessen the offense. “They want to talk to us. Not you, of course. You don’t have to worry. Only the people who actually live here. We’re all going to be in the show.”
“Pete won’t,” Karen said.
“Well, no. Not unless he changes his ways. They want us to tell our stones—how we came to be here, what we do with our time, how we manage so far away from everything.”
“I thought you didn’t want them here.”
“Well...they seem nice enough.” She seemed to know the weakness of her argument and was embarrassed by it. “I’ve got to go. Lee was up early, but the Cruzes slept in. They’ll be wanting their breakfast. Lee and I...we had a nice little talk this morning. He’s not like his brother, Karen.”
Karen couldn’t fault Bette’s earnestness but knew her old friend had no clue about what she was saying. Rather than contradicting her, though, Karen murmured, “No, I’m sure he’s not.” Adding only to herself, He’s worse!
Just then Diane Cruz opened the saloon’s back door and looked mildly startled to find the two of them together. “Oh, good...you’re here, Karen! Saves a trip. You have a telephone call. It’s your mother.”
Karen groaned to herself. Leave it to her mother to call at just the wrong moment. Instinctively, she looked to Bette for help. She couldn’t go inside the saloon. Not with Lee Parker there.
Bette said quickly, “He’s gone out. There shouldn’t be a problem.”
Painfully aware of the way Diane Cruz had undoubtedly taken Bette’s assurance, Karen said evenly, “It’s all right. I don’t care where he is.” Then she sailed inside, head up, jaw set...and knees like jelly.
John and Bette had two telephone extensions—one upstairs in their living quarters and the other downstairs at the bar. Karen felt she’d managed quite enough when she made it to the bar. After smoothing her sweaty palms along the sides of her shorts, she picked up the phone by the till and said with as much conviction as she could muster, “Hello, Mom?”
Bette and Diane glanced at each other and withdrew upstairs to give her privacy.
“You didn’t call,” Gemma Latham complained. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, Mother.” A quiet click signaled the upstairs extension had been hung up.
“You promised to keep in touch and you didn’t. What are we supposed to think? It’s the Parkers, isn’t it?” Her mother launched into her pet grievance. “They’ve somehow discovered you’re in Twilight and they’re giving you a hard time. Is that it, Karen? Tell me. Because if it is, you just put whatever it is your aunt left you in the car and come home immediately. They have no right to bother you! No right at all!”
“I couldn’t begin to put what Aunt Augusta left me in my car.”
“Then leave it there! It’s not important.”
Karen couldn’t tell her mother the truth. It would only upset her more. Instead she said, “A lot’s going on in town, that’s all. Everyone’s excited because a movie studio—”
“I don’t care about a movie studio!”
“And a TV crew—”
“I don’t care about that, either. My concern is you. I wish you’d never gone back to that place. You know I’ve had a bad feeling about it all along.”
“You and Rachel,” Karen murmured wryly.
“Rachel?” Gemma seized on the name. “Isn’t that your friend who says she has dreams?”
Karen could tell her mother didn’t appreciate being included in the same category. “Rachel said I’d be here longer than a week, and as it turns out, I will. Aunt Augusta didn’t leave me a few things. She left the shop and a storage building packed to bursting point. It’s going to take weeks to go through everything.”
“Weeks!” her mother echoed in disbelief.
“At least.”
“With the Parkers nearby.”
“Yes.”
Her mother said flatly, “I never knew I’d raised a masochist.”
“That’s a little extreme, Mother. I’m not a masochist. I’ve just been given an opportunity...a chance, maybe, to do something I want for a change. And I’m not going to let anything, not even the Parkers, stand in my way!”
“I thought that’s what you’d been doing all along—what you wanted.”
Karen was robbed of breath. The jab hurt. Her rejection of the life her mother and father had plotted out for her, her engagement to Alex, her independent life in Kerrville—all had been her choice, yes. But each had been made as a reaction to someone else’s plan for her. Not from her own considered reflection about what she truly wanted.
She closed her eyes, knowing her inner conflict was written on her face. Then she heard a noise—a boot scuffing against the old plank floor—and she immediately spun around. There he was. Lee Parker. Looking at her as he had so long ago, with those chips of Arctic ice for eyes, his expression giving nothing away.
She spun around again, presenting him with her back, even as her gaze flew to the mirrored shelves. His view of her had been perfect. Once again he’d been privy to a private moment of her life. A moment of vulnerability when her soul had been exposed.
Her mother’s voice broke through to her, demanding, “Karen! Do you hear me, Karen? Why don’t you answer?”
CHAPTER SIX
KAREN KNEW SHE HAD TO SAY something, but no appropriate words came to mind. Instead, she said to her mother, “I—I have to go. Someone’s calling me.”
“Our conversation is not finished, Karen.”
“I have nothing more to say.”
“Well, I do! Karen—”
“I’ll call you later, Mom. Don’t worry. Everything’s fine.” Then she hung up, before Gemma could make another protest.
For several seconds she waited, fully expecting the phone to ring again. When it didn‘t—her mother probably being so put out with her that she’d stomped off to her lecture room to vent her anger on her students—Karen drew a shaky breath and prepared to face him.
Only he didn’t give her enough time. Before she’d known that he’d even moved, he was hitching a seat at the bar directly behind her.
When she turned, Karen’s startled senses absorbed everything about him. The strong, chiseled features that seemed so common among the Parkers—square jaw, straight nose, high cheekbones—the thick dark hair, long, lean body and stubbornly uncompromising attitude. Even dressed as he was in modern jeans and a white T-shirt, he fitted into these old-time surroundings as if he belonged.
“So,” he began, his tone soft, cajoling, “is everything fine? I got the idea last night it wasn’t.”
Karen tossed her head. “Don’t talk to me.”
His eyes remained steady. “Is it?” he repeated.
“What do you think?”
“I’d say no, you’re still p—”
“How did you know I was here?” she demanded tightly, suddenly remembering his lack of surprise.
He shrugged. “I just walked in and there you were...on the phone. Who was that? Your mother?”
“I meant yesterday...last night!”
“How is your mother?” he asked, instead of answering. “Still in fine fighting fettle, I take it? Why didn’t you tell her I was here?”
She knew he was
enjoying taunting her. She answered in kind. “I thought for your safety’s sake it was best not to.”
“I never did anything to you.”
“You’re a Parker!”
“But I’m not Alex.”
“No, you’re worse than Alex!”
His eyes lost a little of their teasing glint. “Now, how do you suppose that?”
“Think back!” she snapped.
He frowned. “I don’t see—What was I supposed to do? Marry you myself?”
“Heaven forbid!” Karen shot back, even as a start of surprise tore through her. That had been the furthest thing from her mind!
He folded his arms and leaned back, smiling. “Now I think about it, maybe it wouldn’t have been such a bad idea. We’d’ve been married... what? Seven years now? I wonder what that would be like.”
Karen could feel her cheeks grow hot. She stomped out from behind the bar, ready to burst outside through the rear door, except John came in at just that moment and blocked her way. She plowed straight into him.
“Whoa, there!” John exclaimed, steadying her. “What’s your hurry?” One look at her face had him glancing toward the bar. “Ah! You’re hightailing it away from Lee again.”
Lee sat there with a slight smile. Karen wanted to rip every shred of it from his face.
“She just turned me down flat, John,” Lee said.
“Turned you down? What for?”
Karen didn’t wait to hear what twisted lie Lee Parker would tell. She struggled out of John’s hold and stalked past him. She couldn’t stand to be in the same room with that horrible man for a second longer.
Loud banging noises were coming from the hotel at the end of the street. The beginning of John’s refurbishment project. At the moment, though, Karen, like her mother, wasn’t interested in what was going on in Twilight. She planned to bury herself in the work of cataloging her aunt’s collection and would pay attention to nothing else. She wouldn’t even leave the shop unless she had to. She’d hide from everything and every—
She pulled up short, both in stride and in thought. Hide? As if she had something to be ashamed of?
Squaring her shoulders, she turned back to the saloon. She needed to make a few calls of her own. To Mr. Griffin, to Rachel, to Martin. And she’d be darned if she’d let Lee Parker’s presence stop her.
As she neared the door, for a split second her courage faltered, but she grabbed it, shoved it back in place and retraced her steps into the Lady Slipper.
JOHN DANSON SHOOK his head as he perched on a stool next to Lee. “Women sure can hold on to a grudge,” he said.
“Particularly when they have a good reason,” Lee agreed.
“That brother of yours...what’s wrong with him? He blind or somethin’? Karen always was a pretty little thing and she’s growed up even prettier. Sweet, too, on top of it”
Lee didn’t know about the “sweet” part. Karen had never shown him that particular aspect of her personality. Not willingly, at any rate. He fingered one of the absorbent coasters scattered along the bar. Something about her sure got to him, though. A wistfulness, a need, a regret... all revealed inadvertently when her guard was down. “Alex’s trouble is that he doesn’t appreciate what he has while he has it”
“A lot of men are guilty of that” John looked at him curiously. “What’d Karen turn you down about? You never said.”
Lee shrugged. “Just... an interview. For the show.”
“That’s too bad. I hate to see her left out. She’s as much a part of Twilight as the rest of us. She used to come every summer, you know, to spend some time with her aunt while her parents—”
The sound of a cleared throat caused both men’s heads to snap around. Karen stood in the doorway, her chin up, her brown eyes flashing. It was clear she’d overheard their discussion and didn’t like it. “I need to make some calls,” she said tightly. “Is it all right if I use your telephone, John? I’ll pay.”
“Of course,” John said promptly, sliding off his stool.
She walked straight to the bar and moved behind it. She lifted the receiver, but before dialing, she requested coldly, “A little privacy, please?”
Her irritated gaze included both men but focused longer on Lee.
Lee couldn’t help smiling. Something sure had gotten into her since she’d beat a hasty retreat seconds before.
John touched his elbow. “Wanna come see what we’re doin’ down at the hotel? Our supplies aren’t set to arrive until tomorrow, but we thought we’d get a head start...lots of things we can do to get ready.”
“Sure,” Lee said, pushing off to follow. But before leaving the saloon, he couldn’t resist another look at Karen.
Her back was to him, her shoulders stiff. It was only when he checked the mirror, as he had previously, that he saw she wasn’t nearly as disinterested as she seemed. She was watching him intently, so he gave her a little wink, and, surprised by the unexpectedness of it, she flushed and blinked.
A GROUP OF TOWNSMEN WERE hard at work at the hotel. Lee had met two of them before. The others he hadn’t.
“Joe, Hank...you remember Lee,” John called across the open space of the lobby. Friendly waves followed. John then included the others, singling them out one by one. “This here’s Isaac Jacobs...Diego Torres and Benny O‘Conner.” In an aside to Lee, John said quietly, “Benny’s a little slow in the mind department, like I wrote, but he’s really good at helpin’ out.” Then more loudly, “That’s right, huh, Benny? You do your part.”
A plump man with gray hair sprinkled among his natural blond nodded seriously as he carried a bucket of debris outside. His features, holding no guile, were more like a boy’s than a man’s.
“You met his momma yesterday, Mary O’Conner,” John said to Lee, managing to refer to, yet skirt, the argument about the well. “This here’s Lee Parker,” he continued with his introduction. “He’s here with his TV crew and wants to talk to each and every one of you when the opportunity presents itself.”
“You’re the one who’s gonna put Twilight on the map!” Isaac Jacobs said as he tore off a strip of peeling wallpaper.
“He’ll make us famous,” John agreed.
Lee laughed good-naturedly. “I don’t know if I’d go that far.”
“Sure you are,” John said, slapping his back. “What’s the use of us takin‘ all this trouble if Twilight’s gonna stay a secret? We have to get the word out. And between you and our ol’ friend Nate Barlow, it’ll happen.”
“What if it didn’t?” Lee asked, stepping forward to help Diego Torres remove a stubborn length off scarred door molding.
The room suddenly went quiet, as if he’d said something outrageous in a holy place. Once again, John took the lead. “Nah. Not gonna happen. Twilight‘ll come into its own. People love the Old West. Love to see things the way they used to be. All we have to do is be ready for ’em when they get here.” And work resumed.
“Twilight’s pretty far off the beaten track,” Lee said, still sticking with his line of inquiry. “Aren’t you worried it might be too far?”
“So’s the Grand Canyon, but that don’t stop people from goin‘ there.”
Lee reached for another piece of cracked molding once Diego loosened it from the wainscoting. “Still, Twilight’s not exactly the Grand Canyon.”
“It’s more like Virginia City,” John said, pitching in to help Isaac gather discarded wallpaper. “I come from near there, so I know how many people show up each year. And the same thing can happen here. I’m convinced of it”
“Do you have an extra hammer?” Lee asked, grinning.
John stopped what he was doing to straighten. “You don’t need to do that. There’s plenty of us here.”
“Hard work never hurt anybody, someone I know and respect always says.” Lee didn’t reveal that the person was Mae. Nor did he add that he’d found working alongside people allowed him to see them as they were, not as they wanted him to think they were. That way, when it ca
me time for them to sit before the camera, he knew exactly how to deal with them.
John said, “Well, sure. We won’t turn you down. We’ll take all the help we can get!”
LEE ASSISTED IN THE HOTEL for the rest of the morning and promised the men he’d return from time to time when he could. Then he rendezvoused with Manny and Diane. Having worked as a team for five years, they all knew the routine for the start of a shoot and the individual responsibilities that went with it. Lee pulled together a sense of the overall picture, Diane dug for details, and Manny saw to the cameras and sound equipment and tested background shots.
“Well, what do you think?” Lee asked as they sat around one of the tables in the empty saloon.
“I like it,” Diane answered promptly.
“I do, too,” Manny said, patting the shoulder-held technical marvel of a professional video camera he’d. placed on the table next to them. “Got some good shots. Town photographs like a dream. Looks like a movie or a TV set” He narrowed his eyes. “What about you?”
“I like it, too. The people are friendly and interesting. They have good stories. So does the town.”
An expectant pause followed and Lee knew they were thinking about his strained relationship with Karen Latham. Instead of addressing it, though, he said, “I’ve been wondering...what do you think about following through on this? Maybe stretching it into that full hour we talked about doing one day? We have plenty of material. We get to know the people, hear their dreams, give the town’s history... then, instead of just talking about the preview, we cover it. Show all the preparation and its aftermath. How it affects the town. Our viewers will want to know what happens—if it looks like what these people are hoping to achieve will stand a good chance of working out for them.”
Diane sat back and crossed her arms. “Which means spending two weeks here instead of one. What I want to know is, are you pushing to stay longer for the sake of the show, or because Karen Latham’s here and the two of you have all this unfinished business?” She warded off his instant denial. “No, I want you to think about it before you answer. We’ve all worked hard to make ‘Western Rambles’ a success. You most of all. You’ve put your money into it as well as your heart and soul. Not that I think it would be a bad thing if Karen is the cause. I just want you to recognize it. Otherwise, things could get really confused and that would be bad for the show.”
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