by Diana Palmer
“Good night, then,” he said.
“Good night.”
She closed the door and turned on the lights. It had been a strange and wonderful day. Somehow, the future looked unusually bright, despite all her worries.
* * *
The next morning, Dorie had to go into town to Clarisse’s shop to help her with the bookkeeping. It was unfortunate that when she walked in, a beautiful woman in designer clothes should be standing at the counter, discussing Corrigan.
“It’s going to be the most glorious Christmas ever!” she was telling the other woman, pushing back her red-gold hair and laughing. “Corrigan is taking me to the Christmas party at the Coltrains’ house, and afterward we’re going to Christmas Eve services at the Methodist Church.” She sighed. “I’m glad to be home. You know, there’s been some talk about Corrigan and a woman from his past who just came back recently. I asked him about it, if he was serious about her.” She laughed gaily. “He said that he was just buttering her up so that she’d do some bookkeeping for him and the brothers, that she’d run out on him once and he didn’t have any intention of letting her get close enough to do it again. I told him that I could find it in my heart to feel sorry for her, and he said that he didn’t feel sorry for her at all, that he had plans for her…”
Clarisse spotted Dorie and caught her breath. “Why, Dorothy, I wasn’t expecting you…quite so soon!”
“I thought I’d say hello,” Dorie said, frozen in the doorway. She managed a pasty smile. “I’ll come back Monday. Have a nice weekend.”
“Who was that?” she heard the other woman say as she went quickly back out the door and down the street to where she’d parked the car Turkey Sanders had returned early in the morning, very nicely fixed.
She got behind the wheel, her fingers turning white as she gripped it. She could barely see for the tears. She started the engine with shaking fingers and backed out into the street. She heard someone call to her and saw the redhead standing on the sidewalk, with an odd expression on her face, trying to get Dorie’s attention.
She didn’t look again. She put the car into gear and sped out of town.
She didn’t go straight home. She went to a small park inside the city and sat down among the gay lights and decorations with a crowd that had gathered for a Christmas concert performed by the local high-school band and chorus. There were so many people that one more didn’t matter, and her tears weren’t as noticeable in the crush of voices.
The lovely, familiar carols were oddly soothing. But her Christmas spirit was absent. How could she have trusted Corrigan? She was falling in love all over again, and he was setting her up for a fall. She’d never believe a word he said, ever again. And now that she’d had a look at his beautiful divorcée, she knew she wouldn’t have a chance with him. That woman was exquisite, from her creamy skin to her perfect figure and face. The only surprising thing was that he hadn’t married her years ago. Surely a woman like that wouldn’t hang around waiting, when she could have any man she wanted.
Someone offered her a cup of hot apple cider, and she managed a smile and thanked the child who held it out to her. It was spicy and sweet and tasted good against the chill. She sipped it, thinking how horrible it was going to be from now on, living in Jacobsville with Corrigan only a few miles away and that woman hanging on his arm. He hadn’t mentioned anything about Christmas to Dorie, but apparently he had his plans all mapped out if he was taking the merry divorcée to a party. When had he been going to tell her the truth? Or had he been going to let her find it out all for herself?
She couldn’t remember ever feeling quite so bad. She finished the cider, listened to one more song and then got up and walked through the crowd, down the long sidewalk to where she’d parked her car. She sat in it for a moment, trying to decide what to do. It was Saturday and she had nothing planned for today. She wasn’t going to go home. She couldn’t bear the thought of going home.
She turned the car and headed up to the interstate, on the road to Victoria.
* * *
Corrigan paced up and down Dorie’s front porch for an hour until he realized that she wasn’t coming home. He drove back to town and pulled up in front of Tira Beck’s brick house.
She came out onto the porch, in jeans and a sweatshirt, her glorious hair around her shoulders. Her arms were folded and she looked concerned. Her frantic phone call had sent him flying over to Dorie’s house hours before he was due to pick her up for the movie. Now it looked as if the movie, and anything else, was off.
“Well?” she asked.
He shook his head, with his hands deep in his jacket pockets. “She wasn’t there. I waited for an hour. There’s no note on the door, no nothing.”
Tira sighed miserably. “It’s all my fault. Me and my big mouth. I had no idea who she was, and I didn’t know that what I was telling Clarisse was just a bunch of bull that you’d handed me to keep me from seeing how much you cared for the woman.” She looked up accusingly. “See what happens when you lie to your friends?”
“You didn’t have to tell her that!”
“I didn’t know she was there! And we had agreed to go to the Coltrains’ party together, you and me and Charles Percy.”
“You didn’t mention that you had a date for it, I guess?” he asked irritably.
“No. I didn’t realize anyone except Clarisse was listening, and she already knew I was going with Charles.”
He tilted his hat farther over his tired eyes. “God, the webs we weave,” he said heavily. “She’s gone and I don’t know where to look for her. She might have gone back to New York for all I know, especially after yesterday. She had every reason to think I was dead serious about her until this morning.”
Tira folded her arms closer against the cold look he shot her. “I said I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I tried to stop her and tell her that she’d misunderstood me about the party, that I wasn’t your date. But she wouldn’t even look at me. I’m not sure she saw me. She was crying.”
He groaned aloud.
“Oh, Corrigan, I’m sorry,” she said gently. “Simon always says you do everything the hard way. I guess he knows you better than the others.”
He glanced at her curiously. “When have you seen Simon?”
“At the cattle convention in San Antonio last week. I sold a lot of my Montana herd there.”
“And he actually spoke to you?”
She smiled wistfully. “He always speaks to me,” she said. “I don’t treat him like an invalid. He feels comfortable with me.”
He gave her an intent look. “He wouldn’t if he knew how you felt about him.”
Her eyes narrowed angrily. “I’m not telling him. And neither are you! If he wants me to be just a friend, I can settle for that. It isn’t as if I’m shopping for a new husband. One was enough,” she added curtly.
“Simon was always protective about you,” he recalled. “Even before you married.”
“He pushed me at John,” she reminded him.
“Simon was married when he met you.”
Her expression closed. She didn’t say a word, but it was there, in her face. She’d hated Simon’s wife, and the feeling had been mutual. Simon had hated her husband, too. But despite all the turbulence between Tira and Simon, there had never been a hint of infidelity while they were both married. Now, it was as if they couldn’t get past their respective bad marriages to really look at each other romantically. Tira loved Simon, although no one except Corrigan knew it. But Simon kept secrets. No one was privy to them anymore, not even his own brothers. He kept to himself in San Antonio. Too much, sometimes.
Tira was watching him brood. “Why don’t you file a missing persons report?” she suggested suddenly.
“I have to wait twenty-four hours. She could be in Alaska by then.” He muttered under his breath. “I guess I could hire a private detective to look for her.”
She gave him a thoughtful look and her eyes twinkled. “I’ve got a better idea. Why
not tell your brothers she’s gone missing?”
His eyebrows lifted, and hope returned. “Now that’s a constructive suggestion,” he agreed, nodding, and he began to grin. “They were already looking forward to homemade biscuits every morning. They’ll be horrified!”
* * *
And they were. It was amazing, the looks that he got from his own kinfolk when he mentioned that their prized biscuit maker had gone missing.
“It’s your fault,” Rey said angrily. “You should have proposed to her.”
“I thought you guys had all that taken care of,” Corrigan said reasonably. “The rings, the minister, the gown, the invitations…”
“Everything except the most important part,” Cag told him coldly.
“Oh, that. Did we forget to tell her that he loved her?” Leo asked sharply. “Good Lord, we did! No wonder she left!” He glared at his brother. “You could have told her yourself if you hadn’t been chewing on your hurt pride. And speaking of pride, why didn’t you tell Tira the truth instead of hedging your bets with a bunch of lies?”
“Because Tira has a big mouth and I didn’t want the whole town to know I was dying of unrequited love for Dorie!” he raged. “She doesn’t want to marry me. She said so! A man has to have a little pride to cling to!”
“Pride and those sort of biscuits don’t mix,” Rey stressed. “We’ve got to get her back. Okay, boys, who do we know in the highway patrol? Better yet, don’t we know at least one Texas Ranger? Those boys can track anybody! Let’s pool resources here…”
Watching them work, Corrigan felt relieved for himself and just a little sorry for Dorie. She wouldn’t stand a chance.
* * *
She didn’t, either. A tall, good-looking man with black hair wearing a white Stetson and a Texas Ranger’s star on his uniform knocked at the door of her motel room in Victoria. When she answered it, he tipped his hat politely, smiled and put her in handcuffs.
They were halfway back to Jacobsville, her hastily packed suitcase and her purse beside her, before she got enough breath back to protest.
“But why have you arrested me?” she demanded.
“Why?” He thought for a minute and she saw him scowl in the rearview mirror. “Oh, I remember. Cattle rustling.” He nodded. “Yep, that’s it. Cattle rustling.” He glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “You see, rustling is a crime that cuts across county lines, which gave me the authority to arrest you.”
“Whose cattle have I rustled?” she demanded impertinently.
“The Hart Brothers filed the charges.”
“Hart…Corrigan Hart?” She made a furious sound under her breath. “No. Not Corrigan. Them. It was them! Them and their damned biscuits! It’s a put-up job,” she exclaimed. “They’ve falsely accused me so that they can get me back into their kitchen!”
He chuckled at the way she phrased it. The Hart brothers and their mania for biscuits was known far and wide. “No, ma’am, I can swear to that,” he told her. His twinkling black eyes shone out of a lean, darkly tanned face. His hair was black, too, straight and thick under that wide-brimmed white hat. “They showed me where it was.”
“It?”
“The bull you rustled. His stall was empty, all right.”
Her eyes bulged. “Didn’t you look for him on the ranch?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he assured her with a wide smile. “I looked. But the stall was empty, and they said he’d be in it if he hadn’t been rustled. That was a million-dollar bull, ma’am.” He shook his head. “They could shoot you for that. This is Texas, you know. Cattle rustling is a very serious charge.”
“How could I rustle a bull? Do you have any idea how much a bull weighs?” She was sounding hysterical. She calmed down. “All right. If I took that bull, where was he?”
“Probably hidden in your room, ma’am. I plan to phone back when we get to the Hart place and have the manager search it,” he assured her. His rakish grin widened. “Of course, if he doesn’t find a bull in your room, that will probably mean that I can drop the charges.”
“Drop them, the devil!” she flared, blowing a wisp of platinum hair out of her eyes. “I’ll sue the whole damned state for false arrest!”
He chuckled at her fury. “Sorry. You can’t. I had probable cause.”
“What probable cause?”
He glanced at her in the rearview mirror with a rakish grin. “You had a hamburger for lunch, didn’t you, ma’am?”
She was openly gasping by now. The man was a lunatic. He must be a friend of the brothers, that was the only possible explanation. She gave up arguing, because she couldn’t win. But she was going to do some serious damage to four ugly men when she got back to Jacobsville.
* * *
The ranger pulled up in front of the Harts’ ranch house and all four of them came tumbling out of the living room and down to the driveway. Every one of them was smiling except Corrigan.
“Thanks, Colton,” Leo said, shaking the ranger’s hand. “I don’t know what we’d have done without you.”
The man called Colton got out and opened the back seat to extricate a fuming, muttering Dorie. She glared at the brothers with eyes that promised retribution as her handcuffs were removed and her suitcase and purse handed to her.
“We found the bull,” Cag told the ranger. “He’d strayed just out behind the barn. Sorry to have put you to this trouble. We’ll make our own apologies to Miss Wayne, here.”
Colton stared at the fuming ex-prisoner with pursed lips. “Good luck,” he told them.
Dorie didn’t know where to start. She looked up at Colton and wondered how many years she could get for kicking a Texas Ranger’s shin.
Reading that intent in her eyes, he chuckled and climbed back into his car. “Tell Simon I said hello,” he called to them. “We miss seeing him around the state capital now that he’s given up public office.”
“I’ll tell him,” Cag promised.
That barely registered as he drove away with a wave of his hand, leaving Dorie alone with the men.
“Nice to see you again, Miss Wayne,” Cag said, tipping his hat. “Excuse me. Cows to feed.”
“Fences to mend,” Leo added, grinning as he followed Cag’s example.
“Right. Me, too.” Rey tipped his own hat and lit out after his brothers.
Which left Corrigan to face the music, and it was all furious discord and bass.
She folded her arms over her breasts and glared at him.
“It was their idea,” he said pointedly.
“Arrested for rustling. Me! He…that man…that Texas Ranger tried to infer that I had a bull hidden in my motel room, for God’s sake! He handcuffed me!” She held up her wrists to show them to him.
“He probably felt safer that way,” he remarked, observing her high color and furious face.
“I want to go home! Right now!”
He could see that it would be useless to try to talk to her. He only made one small effort. “Tira’s sorry,” he said quietly. “She wanted to tell you that she’s going to the Coltrains’ party with Charles Percy. I was going to drive, that’s all. I’d planned to take you with me.”
“I heard all about your ‘plan.’”
The pain in her eyes was hard to bear. He averted his gaze. “You’d said repeatedly that you wanted no part of me,” he said curtly. “I wasn’t about to let people think I was dying of love for you.”
“Wouldn’t that be one for the record books?” she said furiously.
His gaze met hers evenly. “I’ll get Joey to drive you home.”
He turned and walked away, favoring his leg a little. She watched him with tears in her eyes. It was just too much for one weekend.
* * *
Joey drove her home and she stayed away from the ranch. Corrigan was back to doing the books himself, because she wouldn’t. Her pride was raw, and so was his. It looked like a complete stalemate.
“We’ve got to do something,” Cag said on Christmas Eve, as Corrigan sat
in the study all by himself in the dark. “It’s killing him. He won’t even talk about going to the Coltrains’ party.”
“I’m not missing it,” Leo said. “They’ve got five sets of Lionel electric trains up and running on one of the most impressive layouts in Texas.”
“Your brother is more important than trains,” Rey said grimly. “What are we going to do?”
Cag’s dark eyes began to twinkle. “I think we should bring him a Christmas present.”
“What sort of present?” Rey asked.
“A biscuit maker,” Cag said.
Leo chuckled. “I’ll get a bow.”
“I’ll get out the truck,” Rey said, shooting out the front door.
“Shhh!” Cag called to them. “It wouldn’t do to let him know what we’re up to. We’ve already made one monumental mistake.”
They nodded and moved more stealthily.
* * *
Corrigan was nursing a glass of whiskey. He heard the truck leave and come back about an hour later, but he wasn’t really interested in what his brothers were doing. They’d probably gone to the Christmas party over at Coltrain’s ranch.
He was still sitting in the dark when he heard curious muffled sounds and a door closing.
He got up and went out into the hall. His brothers looked flushed and flustered and a little mussed. They looked at him, wide-eyed. Leo was breathing hard, leaning against the living-room door.
“What are you three up to now?” he demanded.
“We put your Christmas present in there,” Leo said, indicating the living room. “We’re going to let you open it early.”
“It’s something nice,” Cag told him.
“And very useful,” Leo agreed.
Rey heard muffled noises getting louder. “Better let him get in there. I don’t want to have to run it down again.”
“Run it down?” Corrigan cocked his head. “What the hell have you got in there? Not another rattler…!”
“Oh, it’s not that dangerous,” Cag assured him. He frowned. “Well, not quite that dangerous.” He moved forward, extricated Leo from the door and opened it, pushing Corrigan inside. “Merry Christmas,” he added, and locked the door.