Winning Texas
Page 16
She also felt chilled because she was nervous, and who wouldn’t be? She hadn’t laid eyes on her former boyfriend in three years, since he’d confessed weeks before his divorce was final that he’d gotten his estranged wife pregnant. Annie had been joyfully planning their wedding. She knew that Jake loved women and had a wandering eye. But the last thing she’d expected was for him to sleep with the wife he’d said he detested after her affair with one of his law partners.
Lately, after not dating anyone who interested her for a long dry spell, she’d begun to hope again. She was enjoying dating Matt Sharpe, though she couldn’t visualize a long-term future with him. Tom Marr fell into a different category. The night he’d appeared on her doorstep a few weeks ago had seemed significant. Four years ago, he’d almost succeeded in wooing her away from Jake. But she couldn’t go along with his secessionist philosophy. When Marr said on her front porch that he was finished with the Nation of Texas, she’d cautiously acceded to his request to call her.
They’d talked on the phone a few times and she’d enjoyed their wide-ranging conversations. But he seemed to be rationing the calls, moving slowly and deliberately to keep things on an even keel. He still was following leads on Betsy’s whereabouts and believed that his daughter soon would return to the ranch of her own accord.
Annie didn’t know when or if she’d she see Marr again. She had so much going on with her work that she couldn’t worry about it right now. But somehow, just knowing that Marr was interested had given her the courage to see Jake, to try to put that disastrous experience into some kind of perspective. Of course, the meeting also had an official purpose. She wanted to assess how Jake, as the state’s most powerful state senator, perceived the German-Texas cause.
The inner door burst open and she heard a familiar high-pitched female voice. It sounded like Maggie Mahaffey, but surely it couldn’t be her former Times colleague. She listened a few seconds longer. Of course it was Maggie. That’s the kind of thing that happened in her crazy love life.
She stood up as Jake followed Maggie into the waiting area. He undoubtedly knew that Annie would be coming for their scheduled appointment, but Maggie looked shocked, and none too happy to see her. At least there was that small satisfaction, Annie thought. The petite blonde as usual was decked out in pink. Maggie wore a pale pink knit dress with a hot pink bolero jacket and enough rosy lipstick and blusher to supply a department store cosmetics counter.
“Hi, Maggie. Hello, Jake,” she said with what she hoped was reasonable poise. “How’s the new job?”
“Annie, what’re you doing here?” Maggie said. “Uh, the job’s fine so far. Just finished my first week. Jake, shall I call you later?”
“Why don’t I call you?” he said, steering her towards the door. Annie heard them talking in low voices in the hall. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but Maggie sounded angry. He seemed to be trying to calm her.
He came back in, moving with the confident, Elvis-like swagger that she’d always loved. He slowly looked her up and down, his smoky blue eyes crinkling, apparently happy with what he saw. He pulled her into a hug and before she could break away, kissed her lightly on the lips.
“Annie, you look gorgeous,” he said. “Let’s go into the conference room and catch up.”
He seated her at a glass-topped square table and plopped down across from her. He leaned forward slightly, just the way she remembered he always did. He had a politician’s knack of convincing the person before him that he or she was the most important person in the building.
He grinned and said, “What can I get you, a large chardonnay?”
Despite her vow not to depart from a businesslike demeanor, she laughed. The first time she’d talked to him was in an Austin bar during a crowded happy hour. She had too many glasses of Chardonnay after several days of intense reporting on state budget hearings. They’d tumbled into bed that same night. Separated from his wife, he’d visited her as often as they could manage during the heady days of their courtship. But hectic weekends between Austin and Houston coupled with his family obligations in Kerrville had taken a toll, even before the pregnancy had ended the relationship.
“I’ll have a Diet Coke, please,” she said.
“I’ve heard that before,” he said with a wink. He spent time asking about her work, her parents, her social life and even her two cats. She touched gingerly on the subject of his children, the two daughters and three-year-old son.
“You knew Jeannie and I had split up again?” he said. “This time it’s for good. I’m living alone in a condo I bought downtown.”
“Maggie told me when she left the Times recently that she was dating you,” Annie said. “To be honest, she kind of rubbed it in my face.”
“I’ve gone out with her some, but believe me, it’s not serious,” Jake said.
“She seems to think it is.”
“She was just trying to get to you. I sense she’s a little jealous. She’d like to be Annie Price when she grows up.”
She knew she should disapprove of his cavalier attitude toward Maggie, but instead, her heart beat faster. She hoped her face wasn’t flushed and her hands weren’t noticeably trembling. She folded them behind her, willing them to be still. He’d always stirred up reactions that embarrassed her.
“You shouldn’t lead Maggie on if you’re not serious,” Annie said, failing to sound stern.
“She’s been around the block more than a few times,” Jake said. “She flirts with anybody who has power and she’s definitely playing the field. Besides, what do you care? You broke my heart and stomped on it with your cowboy boots.”
“Let’s not fight about who got hurt the most,” she said. “You know why I left.”
“The point is that I’m making a fresh start, and you should, too,” he said.
“What am I supposed to do, Jake? I haven’t even seen you for three years.” Her voice rose and she could feel herself beginning to get emotional. She saw that Jake knew it and wanted to defuse a difficult conversation.
“Let me find you that Diet Coke,” he said, exiting the conference room. “Sorry, I guess I’m moving too fast. I’ll be right back.”
Annie got up restlessly, smoothed her jacket and tried to calm herself. She scanned the pictures on his desk and managed to study the silver-framed photograph of the little boy without crying. It was obviously Jake’s son, a serious-looking child with blue eyes and dark curly hair. If they’d had a son, would he have looked like this? There were several other framed pictures of all three children, but none of his wife.
She slipped back into the conference room before he returned with a large plastic bottle of Diet Coke. He got two glasses and poured the beverage. She smiled and he toasted her with his half-filled glass.
“To you, Annie. Whatever finally brought you here is a good thing.”
“Tell me about your colleague, Sam Wurzbach,” she said.
“He’s a great guy who’s made a pile of money with his German bakeries,” Jake said. “They’re all over the Hill Country. The pastries are unbelievable.”
“What do you think of his German-Texas plan?”
“I think he’s a little hyped about the subject, but I’ve been waiting to see where he takes it,” Jake said. “So far, I think it’s a pretty decent proposal.”
“Do you really think so?” Annie said. “I thought you’d decided after the secessionist debacle that any kind of separatist movement was bad.”
“I’m not sure that giving streets German names and teaching more German in the schools is a bad thing in the Hill Country,” he said. “Calling a bunch of underdeveloped counties German Texas might be a creative way to promote growth and tourism.”
“Do you really think that’s all he wants?” Annie said. “I’m not sure I believe that.”
“I don’t know, Annie,” he said. “I haven’t had time to check it out thoroughly, but Sam’s a key legislative ally and a great friend.”
“Are you part of this crazy scheme?” Annie asked. “Be straight with me.”
“I’m leaning toward it,” Jake said. “What’s gotten into you? Why are you so suspicious and angry?”
She told him about Kyle Krause, his support of the German-Texas movement and the death of Nate Hardin at his club. Jake of course had read stories about Nate’s murder.
“I’ve only met Kyle Krause once or twice. I would agree that there’s something strange about him,” Jake said. “But do you really think he killed your reporter?”
“I don’t know what I think,” Annie said. “He certainly didn’t like the attention the Times was giving him.”
“I get regular reports on the secessionist movement from the Texas Rangers,” Jake said. “The last one said Dan Riggins might be border-hopping in Texas, near the ranch of your old boyfriend Tom Marr.”
“I don’t think Tom’s in touch with him,” Annie said. “He told me he was finished with the secessionists.”
“The plot thickens,” Jake said, looking at her flushed face. “Are you seeing Marfa’s lonesomest cowboy again?”
“We’ve talked on the phone a few times,” said Annie. “That’s all.”
He frowned, looked at his watch and back at her. She could see he was wondering about Marr and miffed that they were in contact.
“I’ve promised to go to Sam’s German-Texas fundraiser near San Antonio tonight,” he said. “Come with me. It will give you a chance to see what this group is all about. And we need more time to talk.”
“Sure,” she said. “I’d love to meet some German Texans.”
CHAPTER 31
There was something about being in Jake’s old black BMW that brought back the sharpest memories. The car smelled like Jake, a hint of lemony aftershave and something she couldn’t define. Every person exuded his or her faint aroma if you got close. His took her back to their passionate nights together. The interior of his car as usual looked clean and mostly uncluttered, though the booster seat in the back and a few toys beside it were new. After he’d deposited her in the passenger seat and carefully closed the door, making sure her jacket wasn’t caught in it, he got in and put in a Coldplay CD she hadn’t heard since the last time they were together.
He drove as fast as the late-afternoon traffic would allow, heading from Austin to Grey Forest, a small town northwest of San Antonio known for its single but substantial landmark, the Grey Moss Inn. Annie hadn’t been there before, but she’d always heard about the restaurant and knew that it had the reputation of being impossibly romantic. That wouldn’t be the case tonight. The German-Texas Society had rented the whole place for a large party.
“I heard there’ll be a good band, with dancing,” Jake smiled.
“You know I’m not much of a dancer,” Annie said.
“Annie, you’re crazy. Those long, sexy legs were made to dance.”
She laughed out loud, feeling lighthearted and a little reckless. The sadness she’d felt earlier had evaporated and what remained was the charged-up awareness of his body. She remembered the ten-hour trip they’d made from Marfa to Houston long ago, when he’d renounced the secessionist movement and barged in to take her away from Tom Marr’s ranch. That tempered her giddiness somewhat as she wondered if Marr was in touch with Riggins, the state’s most sought-after fugitive, as Jake had implied. She didn’t really think Tom was lying about forsaking the secessionist movement, but a shred of doubt remained. She’d question him about it the next time he called. She couldn’t think about that right now.
They got to the town of Grey Fox in less than two hours, slowed down for its notorious 30-mile speed limit that trapped unwary drivers and soon spotted the secluded grounds of the inn.
They got out of the car, enjoying the rural view. Across the parking lot, in an adjoining pasture, she saw some whitetail deer and a group of smaller animals.
“Are those wild turkeys?”
“Yeah. Cute, aren’t they?” Jake said.
She’d always been tickled that he enjoyed animals, especially her cats, as much as she did. It was one of the things about him she found most endearing.
A canopy of huge oaks and a stone wall encircled the inn. The wall was only a couple of feet high, but it still gave the place the air of an ancient fortress. Annie could see that the long, low building and its spacious patio in back were lit up with hundreds of twinkling lights. She and Jake walked through the restaurant, enjoying the buzzing ambience of people anticipating a festive evening. Well-dressed couples stood in clumps or sat at crowded tables, sipping wine and champagne. The partygoers ranged from beautiful young people in white jeans, fancy cowboy boots and flashy jewelry to wealthy-looking retirees in their seventies and eighties in full cocktail regalia. Waiters, mostly younger, tuxedo-clad Hispanic men, were passing trays of fancy canapés.
“I think the serious partying is this way,” Jake said, steering her through the room to the outdoors area.
On the patio, a country band was playing some beer-hall tune that Annie vaguely recognized as German. A number of couples, mostly younger people dressed in dirndls and lederhosen, were dancing to the sprightly music. The traditional Bavarian outfits looked cute on the young women, Annie thought, but the leather shorts and knee socks on the guys reminded her of movie scenes depicting Hitler Youth. She halfway expected them either to break out in German drinking songs or hoist guns or knives at a given command. She chided herself when she looked closer and realized that most of them were young, probably high school or college students.
“What do you think?” Jake said. “Very colorful, huh?”
“Seems kind of over the top,” she said. “Maybe I’m just not used to the whole German-Texas vibe. Ever been to that big German festival in New Braunfels in the fall?”
“Wurstfest? I’m a Hill Country boy. Would I pass up the festival of sausage?” Jake said. “This is a much more refined bunch of folks. People aren’t quite as drunk, either.”
Annie studied the crowd and to her surprise, spied Travis with Senator Sam Wurzbach. She waved them over and introduced Travis to Jake. Jake was his usual amiable and talkative self, but Travis seemed stiff and a little angry.
“I left several messages on your cell,” he said. “I didn’t know whether you wanted to meet for dinner or what. When I didn’t hear anything, I accepted Sam’s invitation to this party.”
“Sorry, Travis,” Annie said. “I just lost track of time. I’m glad we’re both here.”
The six-piece, German-sounding band began playing “Cotton-Eyed Joe,” a legendary country tune Annie often heard in Texas-themed bars. Always, when it was played, the native Texans would rush to the dance floor to perform a line dance. The young people in their dirndls and lederhosen enthusiastically joined the partygoers dancing to the rollicking tune. Annie and her companions watched from around the edges and she tapped her toes to the music. Wurzbach told them he planned to deliver his pitch about German Texas as soon as the band finished the number.
“We sold about seven hundred tickets and ended up with a full house,” he said with pride. “It’s the first in a series of big parties to introduce the German-Texas movement.”
“Where did you find the young dancers?” Annie asked.
“They’ve been going to a German dancing school in Fredericksburg,” Wurzbach smiled. “That’s the kind of cultural activity we’d like to encourage.”
Annie enjoyed chatting with him, Jake and Travis until Wur
zbach excused himself, saying he needed to touch base with supporters before his speech.
The band finished its number and people began drifting away from the stone dance floor section of the patio. Some headed to the bar for another drink and others sat down. One of the musicians grabbed the microphone.
“We’re playing one last song, so don’t leave yet, folks. It’s ‘Waltz across Texas’, so everyone needs to get their sweetheart to the dance floor for a slow one,” he said.
“Annie, would you dance with me?” Jake said with a little bow. “You don’t mind if we take advantage of the waltz, do you, Travis?”
“Break a leg,” Travis said, sounding sour.
Jake led her out on the floor. He put his arms around her waist, pulled her close and they swayed together wordlessly as the song began. Feeling his strong body pressed against hers after they’d been apart for so long made her almost too dizzy to dance, so she focused on the music. She’d never really listened to the lyrics of the classic song and the band’s version was soulful.
“When we dance together, my world’s in disguise. It’s a fairyland tale that’s come true. And when you look at me with those stars in your eyes, I could waltz across Texas with you.”
The band lingered over the chorus: “Waltz across Texas with you in my arms, waltz across Texas with you. Like a storybook ending, I’m lost in your charms. And I could waltz across Texas with you.”
Jake softly sang the words into her ear, kissed her neck and they moved together as if they were making love – again. Annie wished the song would never end.
But end it did with a bang, a strange popping noise. She heard the screams of fear and panic. She looked at Jake and saw her shock mirrored in his eyes. They pulled apart abruptly and stared in horror. The sound had been a gunshot, perhaps coming through the tall trees beyond the brightly lit outdoors area. Sam Wurzbach had fallen on the patio with a spreading red blur on the lower left side of his white shirt.