Heart of Texas

by Mary Alfort

  13

  On occasion, even a leopard can change his spots.

  It was almost comical, seeing Ramie Deautreve sitting next to Aunt Thelma in our tiny little church.

  During the months following the charges being dropped against my aunts, Ramie and Thelma had spent countless hours getting to know each other.

  Everyone in town was surprised when Thelma announced she had a son. They were even more surprised to learn he had supposedly once been the biggest crime bosses in all of Louisiana. As Thelma was eager to point out, God’s forgiveness was for everyone, even an alleged crime boss. Aunt Thelma had to endure a lot of snickering and talking behind her back, but she’d done it with style, and she hadn’t really minded. She was thrilled to have a second chance with her baby boy.

  At first, even I wondered what the two might have to talk about, but after spending time with him, I’d begun to see a different side of Ramie. Aunt Thelma was a part of him in more than just the physical traits they shared.

  On one of Ramie’s first visits to our house, Sheriff Higgins made a big production of showing up just to let Ramie know he’d be watching him.

  “Higgie, ain’t you got a house full o’ kids and a wife to go home to?” Selma, in her usual abrasive way, headed towards the door to meet Eugene with a shotgun in hand.

  Somehow, Jake managed to get the gun away from her before Higgie opened the screen.

  “My family knows I have work to do, Selma. I shouldn’t have to remind you, it’s my job to keep the city clean of certain...criminal elements bent on causing trouble. I just wanted to let your guest here know that while Down might be a small town, we don’t take kindly to lowlifes.”

  Of course, having Ramie come to town was probably the biggest thing to hit Higgie’s world in a while. As with most things, after a few more drive-bys when Ramie was around Higgie lost interest.

  It still seemed odd to hear Ramie refer to Aunt Thelma as Mother. I’d learned that the couple who’d adopted him when he was two days old had long ago passed on. I guess discovering his biological mother was living was an answer to prayer.

  Aunt Thelma and Ramie had turned out to be good for each other. Since his arrival in her life, she seemed more coherent. Only on occasion, and usually after she’d overdone things, did she revert to the past.

  Ramie, as I was soon to learn, was changing as well.

  I invited him over for coffee one night while the aunts were at their bridge club. I made them promise not to go on any more stakeouts at Evelyn’s house without me. So far, and to the best of my knowledge, they’d complied.

  Right on time, Ramie arrived at seven. “Come inside. I just put on a fresh pot. I hope you don’t mind if I stick with juice.”

  “Not at all. Mother tells me every day about the baby. She said you found out it’s a girl?”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “Have you thought of a name for the child?”

  Jake and I had spent many evenings together reading aloud from a book of baby names, searching for just the right name. I wanted him to be part of this decision because he would become an important part of my daughter’s future. After going through the whole book we’d finally come up with one. “Ava Elizabeth.”

  “That’s a beautiful name. Very old-fashioned and sweet.” Ramie took a sip of the coffee and closed his eyes. “Ah, this is wonderful, so unlike the coffee in Louisiana.”

  “It’s a special blend the distributor brings to the diner. I love the smell of fresh-brewed coffee, don’t you?” Since becoming pregnant, I’d weaned myself off a five-cup-a-day coffee habit very slowly. Every now and then, I’d treat myself to a cup, but the smell of it was something I still enjoyed.

  “Absolutely,” he agreed.

  “So, how’s your family adjusting to the news of your second family?”

  “Not too badly, I think. My wife and Thelma have taken to each other like peanut butter and jelly.”

  I’d heard all about Louisa Deautreve from Thelma. She adored the woman, but then Thelma loved everyone. “I know. Aunt Thelma’s invited Louisa to the next Tuesday Night Book Club. I should tell you, they really don’t discuss books all that much.”

  Ramie chuckled at this. I think he’d finally figured out what a strange second family he’d found himself part of. “You know, this is such a beautiful room.” He glanced around the kitchen appreciatively.

  “Yes, this is my favorite room in the house.” I remembered all the meals I’d shared with my aunts. All the arguments. The tears. It had been here that I’d told them I was leaving Down. I’d hurt them, but they’d known I needed to find my own way in life. And that way would someday bring me back home.

  “Your aunt is very proud of you,” Ramie surprised me by saying.

  “Thank you. I hope I always make her proud.”

  “She loves talking about her famous niece, the romance writer.”

  Oh, geez. I hadn’t written anything that could be classified as romance in months. “Yep, that’s me. The romance writer.”

  “Would I recognize anything you’ve written?”

  “Probably not. I’m not a big name in the field. I do OK, and it pays the bills.”

  “Oh, but to write about romance for a living—what a blessing that must be. I mean you’re surrounded by love at all times.”

  I did a double take at Ramie’s enthusiasm. For the first time I wondered what type of life he’d lived. “It’s...nice. But tell me about you, Ramie. Have you been happy? Are you happy?”

  He took his time answering. “I am. Well, as happy as anyone can be, I guess.” He looked me in the eye. “Especially for someone in my line of work.”

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “How I became involved in crime?” He’d probably heard that question a million times.

  I nodded. “Sorry. I’ll understand if you don’t want to talk about it.”

  “No, it’s OK. The truth is, Laney, I used to be a criminal—it’s how I made my money—but I’ve been legit for years. But shaking the stigma attached to my past crimes, well, let’s just say that’s hard to do.”

  I was one of those people who’d believed the stories I’d heard about him. “Ramie, I’m so sorry. I judged you and I had no right.”

  He smiled kindly. “It’s OK. At least you realized you’d made a mistake. Some people, well, they just assume someone like me can never change.”

  Reasons why I’m thankful I came home to Down:

  1: To help my aunts stay out of jail.

  2: To stop feeling sorry for myself.

  3: Never to have to see Tom Winters’s face again.

  4: To learn how to really write again.

  5: To be there for my aunts when they needed me.

  6: To free myself of the doubts that made me a prisoner

  of my past.

  7: To start believing in the God of second chances again.

  14

  Sometimes happily ever after isn’t what it seems.

  Speaking of second chances, when Jake and I weren’t together, and when I wasn’t trying to keep my aunts in line, I was busy writing again. I’d almost finished the second Tim and Lois story, and yet I found as I got closer to the end, I dreaded the day I’d have to show it to Tippy.

  This new version was like nothing I’d ever written before. I felt as protective as a mother hen brooding over her baby chick. Once I’d typed The End, it was time to set my baby chick free. I believed this was the best story I’d ever written, but would my fans? Especially those who loved Tim and Lois?

  I bundled my baby and shipped it off to Tippy without telling her what I’d done. I simply jotted a note asking her to read it all the way through before calling. At this point, I couldn’t go back to writing those sweet romance stories I’d once loved. When a week went by without any answer from Tippy, I feared the worst—that she’d hated it so much she didn’t know how to tell me she was dropping me as a client.

  As I entered the end of my pregnancy, I turned
into an emotional wreck. I cried over the slightest of things. I felt huge and could no longer see my feet. And I was quickly turning into a hermit. With the exception of the diner and my doctor’s visits, I barely left the house.

  Jake was forced to drop by the diner or come over to the house to see me.

  Thelma and Selma had long ago resorted to trickery just to get me to go to church.

  On one such Sunday, I put my foot down. I wasn’t leaving the house for anything.

  Unfortunately, Thelma had other plans. She called to tell me she’d forgotten the apple pie she’d intended to bring for the church’s annual Thanksgiving dinner.

  “Can you run it over for me, Laney? I know it’s a pain and you didn’t want to leave the house today, but there are hardly any desserts.” She didn’t give me time to say no. She simply hung up on me.

  “This is ridiculous,” I muttered to myself in frustration. I’d been busily reading the latest baby magazine when she’d called. “I don’t have anything to wear.” I rummaged through my closet until I found a clean pair of elastic waist pants and a semi-decent shirt. Just getting behind the steering wheel was a challenge that almost sent me back into the house. By the time I drove to the church, I’d cried three times.

  The service hadn’t started yet. I could slip into the kitchen without anyone being the wiser. Thanks to Thelma, I was not to be so blessed. Apparently, she’d been waiting for me.

  “You made it. Oh, Laney, I’m so glad you came today. Just put that down and come inside.”

  Before I could protest, she was pulling me along behind her.

  I reluctantly let her push me into our usual pew. I glanced around the church, looking for Jake, hoping he could coax a happy moment out of me, but he was nowhere to be found, which was unusual, considering he’d told me he’d stop by to see me after church.

  After the service, everyone in the small congregation of less than a hundred stopped by to say hello. I tried to control my emotions long enough to keep from crying. Had it really been that long since they’d seen me? I calculated the last time I’d darkened the doors voluntarily and realized it had to be at least a month.

  Sorry, God. I owe You an apology, at the very least.

  Today, since the weather was still nice, the dinner would be held outside, under a group of trees that bordered the church property and an open field. Several picnic tables had been set up to hold the food and serve as seating.

  It was turning out to be one of those beautiful fall days where there’s just a hint of crispness in the air. During the night, it had turned colder. The first norther of the season had been predicted for the coming day. The coolness seeped through the top I’d chosen to wear. I went to the SUV and retrieved the white sweater I kept there just for such emergencies.

  “Aunt Thelma, have you seen Jake?” I asked as we made our way through the serving line.

  “Why, wasn’t he just here? I thought I saw him a minute ago.”

  “Where?” I looked around, but no Jake.

  “Well, maybe I’m wrong.” I tried to read her expression before she turned away to get in the coffee line. Something was off. She was keeping a secret.

  After I got my coffee that perfect shade of brown, I turned around too quickly just as Jake walked up behind me. He reached to steady me before I could plunge food-first into him. Unfortunately, my plate tipped back and landed square in the middle of my white sweater, smearing my chest and belly with baked beans and potato salad.

  I couldn’t move. I stared, first, at the brown and yellow smear that seemed to grow before my eyes, and then back at Jake. A pretty blonde woman was clinging to his arm. I was aware of him saying something, but I couldn’t hear a thing through the thunderous pounding of my heart.

  “Laney, you remember Emily from the center, don’t you?” His voice held a certain plea for understanding that made my stomach turn.

  “I have to go.” I dropped the plate, and turned to flee before the tears could come.

  “Laney, it isn’t what you’re thinking.” He caught my arm and held me there, trying to meet my eyes.

  I looked everywhere but at him. “Isn’t it?”

  Jake grabbed a couple of napkins from the nearby table and started removing pieces of potato salad from my sweater. “No, it isn’t.”

  I don’t believe this. I am such an idiot. What was I thinking?

  Jake was a man, after all. Shades of that final, dreadful scene with Tom resurfaced.

  “I’m leaving.” I tried to make my great escape but failed miserably.

  “No, you’re not,” he said calmly, refusing to let me go.

  “Let me go, Jake. I’m expecting a call.” That wasn’t exactly a lie. I was expecting a call from Tippy…someday. I took a step backward and hit the table behind me hard, spilling my perfect shade of coffee all over my hand. “Shoot.” I closed my eyes when I remembered we were still technically at church. My hand started to sting.

  “Hang on a second,” Jake muttered.

  I wished the ground would open and swallow me. I was even more embarrassed to see our little encounter had collected a group of followers.

  People were gathering around me, trying to assist.

  “Laney, that burn looks bad. Why don’t you let me take a look at it?” Jake’s eyes pleaded with me to stay. In my befuddled state, I let him lead me away from the crowd. He told Emily, who was hovering next to him, to get the first aid kit from the kitchen.

  The man had at least managed to get rid of the crowd around us.

  “I invited her along with everyone else at the center to attend church. She just showed up today and I can’t shake her. She’s stuck to me like glue. I need you to help me.”

  “Oh, shut up, Jake. I’m leaving. I knew you were too good to be true.” I’d begun to cry. My hormones were running amok. I had to get away. I tried to walk past him again but he wouldn’t let me go.

  “Stop it. Stop trying to make me into Tom.” Jake took me in his arms and let me cry. Suddenly, nothing else mattered but the man holding me close. I forgot about Emily, my aunts... and how hard I’d been trying to find some reason to push Jake away.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” I sobbed against his shirt, instantly smearing it with the remains of my dropped meal.

  “Shh... It’s OK,” he whispered against my ear. “It’s OK.”

  When I’d regained some of my composure, I remembered we were at church, and I’d just made a huge spectacle out of myself in front of half the town. “I’m such a klutz,” I wailed as my hand began to really hurt.

  Jake just smiled tenderly, ignoring the baked beans and potato salad now on his front. “No, you’re not. You’re human.” And there, right in front of the entire congregation, Jake Montgomery kissed me.

  The crowd started clapping and cheering.

  Emily was glowering at me as she sullenly handed the first aid kit to Jake.

  He seemed as oblivious to her mood as he was to the mess on his shirt. “Now, Ms. Winters, let’s take a look at that hand.” Potato salad notwithstanding, Jake gently examined my injury, and I let him, because he was Jake. He turned my hand over in his, examining the ugly red mark left there by the coffee.

  This gentle man was so unlike the selfish person I’d been married to. This time, I really was in love. Somewhere between the break-ins, and my latest meltdown, Jake Montgomery had stolen my heart.

  ****

  Just when I thought life in Down couldn’t get any weirder, Stan DeBeers returned and sent the hometown gossips into overtime. It happened one Friday night right before the high school football crowd came in to grab a bite before the game.

  The whole affair started out normal enough. Evelyn Blevins strolled in, reeking of perfume and decked out in skintight leopard-print pants and an equally snug sweater that showed every bulge. I’d long since gotten used to Evelyn’s strange rendezvous at the diner. In fact, none of us even noticed anymore—until the day Stan made his appearance.

  “Oh, my dear
word.”

  I did a little whiplash movement at the stunned disbelief in Thelma’s voice. I’d been talking to Ramie and Selma while holding Jake’s hand when Thelma made her exclamation. Louisa went wide-eyed, a hand going to her heart.

  “Who’s that?” I asked.

  “Stan DeBeers,” Selma breathed in awe.

  Six sets of eyes tomahawked to Evelyn.

  “What do we do?” Ramie had long ago gotten caught up on all the small-town gossip. “Should we call the police?”

  None seemed interested in answering him. Everyone waited for Evelyn to realize her long-lost husband had returned.

  “I’ll call Sheriff Higgins.” I barely recognized Jake’s voice.

  The moment in which Evelyn spotted Stan would be forever branded in my mind. She looked as if she’d seen a ghost.

  “Told you she thought she’d killed him.” Selma nodded toward Evelyn, who had gotten to her feet as Stan approached. “Guilty as sin, I’d say.”

  “Shh... “ Thelma shushed her.

  “Oh, my, Stan? You... how could you? How could you? You sorry−”

  “Evelyn, please. I’m sorry. I wasn’t coming back here ever again, but I thought I owed you the truth.” Stan reached her side and tried to take her hand.

  “Keep your hands off me,” she hissed. “Do you have any idea what you’ve put me through?” She slapped him full force.

  Stan’s hand covered the mark left on his face. After a moment, he found his voice. “I know you’re angry, but you deserve to know the truth about what happened. I can’t let you keep thinking you did something wrong. The truth is I left you and Down because I’ve been lying to you and the whole town for years. The charity fund I managed for the town, well, I’ve been pocketing the money for years. All these years I’ve been going to church and pretending to be something I’m not. There never was an orphanage in Iraq. I took the money. I’ve been gambling for years and...”

  Evelyn’s expression turned venomous. She spat in her husband’s face, and then stepped back. “You’ve embarrassed me for the last time, Stan DeBeers. I never want to see your sorry self again.” With those words, she stormed from the diner, leaving a shocked, silent audience behind.