by Linda Bleser
Kate turned and tilted her head, listening. She knew there was no radio or television on in the house. She walked toward the center of the room, trying to zero in on the sound. The closer she got to her mother’s desk, the clearer it became.
Kate stared, suddenly sure that the cup was the source of the music. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear the cup was singing.
Singing?
She was losing her mind. She always knew staying in town would make her crazy, and here was the ultimate proof.
Kate tried to convince herself she was only imagining the song echoing from the depths of the teacup. She’d been under a lot of stress. There was no other explanation. Even Lillian wasn’t stubborn enough to reach out from beyond the grave. Was she?
Kate reached out and lifted the cup. Again she felt that soft, humming vibration, as if the cup was alive. But it wasn’t the jolting bite that Ed had felt. This was more like a soothing caress. Without thinking, Kate lifted the cup to her ear, like a child listening to the sounds of the ocean in a seashell.
And there it was—the honey-smooth voice of Roy Orbison singing “Crying” from the depths of her mother’s teacup.
That didn’t surprise her as much as it should have. Roy Orbison had always been her mother’s favorite singer and as long as Kate could remember the house had been filled with his music. A tear trickled down her cheek as the poignant tune played in her ear. This, more than anything else, brought her mother vividly to mind. Kate could almost see Lillian dancing in the kitchen, her Roy Orbison tape playing over and over as she sang along to each and every song, swaying to the slow tunes and kicking up her heels to one of his rockabilly classics. “His voice can break your heart,” Lillian had often said. “But his songs make me feel like I can reach out and touch the sky.”
Kate felt it too. There was sadness and hope and loss and love and regret, every emotion pure and true. She closed her eyes and swayed, letting the loneliness and pain speak to her. And with the music came healing tears.
When both had run their course, Kate straightened, ready to face whatever challenges awaited her.
The cup was silent and still, as if it had used up every ounce of energy to send Kate a message of hope. She carried it carefully to the kitchen and placed it on the windowsill. If a part of her mother’s spirit still lingered in her favorite teacup, Kate was sure she’d want to look out the window and once more feel as if she could reach out and touch the sky.
Chapter Eight
Max barely touched his dinner. Sue had made his favorite—red-hot chili and jalapeno cornbread—but he’d sat there staring at it as if it held the secrets of the universe. His mind was a million miles away. Well, not really a million. More like about ten, but it could have been a million.
He’d let three days go by without stopping in to see Kate, hoping she’d come to her senses.
She hadn’t.
Time was running out. In one short week Kate would be on her way back to New York with nothing resolved between them. It looked like it was going to be up to him to make the next move.
He hated knowing that Kate thought the worst of him. It was one thing when she wasn’t around and he couldn’t see the accusation in her eyes. But to stand right in front of her and not be able to touch her or soothe her or tell her she’d misjudged him was unbearable.
He’d thought he was over her, but nothing could be further from the truth. Seeing her again made him realize he’d spent the last ten years waiting for her to come to her senses. So what was he gonna do? Let her get away again?
Hell no. Not without a fight.
He still had a week to straighten things out and convince her to stay. It was either that or toss Outlaw in a trailer and follow her back to New York City. Either way he wasn’t going to let another ten years go by without resolving whatever had gone wrong in the first place. If Kate were anything like her mother, she’d be fair and at least hear him out.
Thinking about Lillian, Max smiled. Even though he had no intention of taking the money she’d left, he couldn’t help feeling humbled by her good intentions. It was just like Lillian to try to provide for the ranch in her will. And maybe, in a secret place in her heart, Lillian had always hoped that Kate would return to Max and be a part of the ranch. She’d talked about her daughter every chance she had, and he’d often wondered if Lillian was trying to make sure he’d never forget Kate.
Not likely.
“Hey Uncle Max?”
Max pushed his plate away and looked across the table at Bobby. “Yeah Champ?”
Bobby gave him a gap-toothed smile. “Mom made pie. Peach pie.”
“Oh she did, did she?” Max glanced over at Sue. “And what’s the occasion?”
Sue shrugged. “Nothing. You just looked like…I don’t know.”
“Like a guy who needed pie?”
She smiled. “Yeah, just like that.”
Max stared at his sister. She looked away. Maybe it was just his imagination, but there seemed to be something furtive—almost guilty—in the way she avoided his gaze. Or maybe he was just being paranoid. After his argument with Kate, he imagined all kinds of things he might have done wrong. Damn, he had to clear things up. He was no good to anyone moping around like this, and he’d have Sue baking a mountain of pies if he didn’t cheer up.
“Why don’t you save me a piece,” he said, pushing his chair back and getting up from the table.
“Where are you going?” Her eyes widened.
“Just going into town for a bit. I won’t be long.”
Bobby perked up. “Can I go too?”
“Not tonight Champ,” Max said, ruffling the boy’s hair. “Something I gotta take care of alone.”
Sue walked him to the door. “Are you going to see Kate?”
“Yeah. I hate the way things are between us. I just want to see if I can figure out how to fix it.”
“Maybe there’re some things that can’t be fixed,” Sue said softly.
“Maybe. Maybe not. All I know is I gotta try.”
He started to turn but she grabbed his arm. “Max?”
He could feel her trembling. Her lower lip quivered. “Hey,” he said. “What’s wrong?”
She dropped her hand from his arm and lowered her eyes. But not before he noticed the shimmer of tears.
“Nothing,” she said. “I just…I just love you, that’s all.”
Max pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. “I love you too, Sis. And I promise to be back real soon for some of that pie.”
She put on a brave smile then stepped back and patted his arm. “We’ll be here when you get back.”
Max climbed into his pick-up and drove away.
Sue stood in the doorway, watching long after he was gone.
*
Kate picked up a bottle of Merlot on her way to Cheryl’s house. After the week she’d had, a little wine would ease some of the tension. She had half a mind to cancel her plans for dinner, sit home with the whole bottle and get sloppy drunk. But the house was too quiet and she was afraid that if she started drinking she’d be holding conversations with a teacup before the night was over.
The week had slipped by faster than Kate expected. Between keeping busy at the shop during the day and putting her mother’s affairs in order at night, she’d barely had time to even think about Max.
Well, not much anyway.
He hadn’t come into the shop at all. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d looked up as a customer came through the door, half expecting to see Max saunter inside. When he didn’t, she wasn’t sure whether to feel disappointed or relieved. At least tonight she wouldn’t be wandering through an empty house, determined not to answer a phone that didn’t even have the decency to ring.
Cheryl’s house was easy to find. Driving along the outskirts of town, Kate recognized local landmarks—parks, churches and restaurants. Some of the names had changed, and there were more fast-food drive-ins than she remembered, but basically the sm
all town of Easy was almost exactly the way she’d left it.
The house itself was a modest but well-kept single-family home on a quiet road. A covered patio overlooked a private yard with citrus trees, a child’s swing set and a slightly dented plastic kiddie pool. It looked homey and happy. Just the kind of atmosphere Kate needed tonight.
Cheryl met her at the door with a warm, welcoming hug. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
“Me too,” Kate said. And she was. “I brought this,” she said, offering Cheryl the bottle of wine.
Cheryl looked at the label. “Oh good. Merlot. This will go perfect with franks and beans.”
At Kate’s blank stare, Cheryl laughed and pulled her inside. “I was just kidding. Geez, New York sure has spoiled your sense of humor.”
“It wasn’t New York that did it,” Kate admitted. “But we’ll save that discussion until after we’ve opened the wine.”
Cheryl’s husband met them in the living room. He gave Kate a genuine hug and told her she looked wonderful. Kate wouldn’t have recognized Tommy Anderson. He’d lost the gangly, adolescent awkwardness she remembered and matured into a fine-looking man. His glasses had been replaced by contacts and a neatly trimmed beard softened the lines of his face.
“Da!” The demand came from the kitchen.
Cheryl turned, but Tommy patted her shoulder. “I’ll finish feeding him. You girls catch up.”
The look of adoration on Cheryl’s face when she smiled at her husband tugged at Kate’s heart. She realized, had circumstances been different, this might be what her own life would have been like if she’d stayed in Easy—a home, a husband and kids, but most of all a feeling of complete contentment.
Cheryl led Kate to a comfortable overstuffed sofa. “So tell me what New York is really like,” she said.
“Bigger than I had imagined,” Kate said. “It’s a lot like any major city—bustling with excitement, humming with activity. You get an adrenaline rush just walking down the street.” Kate expected to feel a wave of homesickness for her tiny apartment in the city, but it didn’t come. Her life there was already starting to feel like a dream.
They made small talk, catching up on the last few years, and soon Tommy came back carrying TJ. The baby held his arms out to Cheryl as soon as he spotted her.
“The baby’s fed and the wine is chilling,” Tommy said, handing TJ over to Cheryl.
“Fish are jumping and the cotton is high,” Cheryl quipped.
Kate laughed—the first real laugh she remembered having since arriving in town. She felt comfortable, and that feeling extended over the course of the evening. After TJ was put to bed for the night, they enjoyed a relaxing dinner. Tommy excused himself after dessert while Cheryl and Kate loaded the dishwasher.
“He’s off to computer land,” Cheryl said with an indulgent smile. “Now it’s just us girls. What do you say we finish off this wine outside?” She wiped her hands and carried the bottle out to the patio, where they kicked off their shoes and sat back to watch the sunset.
Kate had forgotten how glorious the sunsets were in Arizona, lighting up the sky in a blaze of gold and orange. There were no skyscrapers to block the view, just miles of horizon and fresh, clean air.
She took a deep, cleansing breath and settled back in the lounge chair. “Beautiful,” she sighed.
“So,” Cheryl said, filling both of their glasses. “Now that you’re relaxed, want to tell me what had you ready to jump out of your skin earlier?”
“Where do I start?”
“Usually at the beginning.”
But Kate didn’t want to go back that far, so she started with her return to Easy and her promise to stay while Jeff and Sally went on their honeymoon.”
“They make such a cute couple,” Cheryl mused.
Kate agreed, but admitted that helping to run the Tea and Crumpet Shop wasn’t exactly what she had planned for her two-week vacation.
“I hear you had a visit from Deputy Ed earlier this week,” Cheryl said.
“The rumor mills are already buzzing, huh?”
“When aren’t they? This is a small town and everyone knows everyone else’s business.”
Kate nodded. She knew that first-hand. “Yeah, he showed his face there. Even Madame Zostra was speechless.”
Cheryl giggled. “She’s a card. So what did the good deputy want? I doubt if he’s a big crumpet fan.”
“He wants the business,” Kate said. “He claims there’s a lien on the property…that the ownership reverted to his mother after my father died.”
Cheryl sat up straight. “That’s ridiculous! Why now, after all these years?”
Kate rubbed her eyes. “According to Ed, Ginny was too good a person to claim her rights while my mother was still living.”
Cheryl snorted. “My butt!”
“Exactly.”
“You know, the only reason Ginny Tate wouldn’t have said something sooner is if she knew your mother could prove differently while she was alive.”
Kate nodded thoughtfully. “That makes sense.”
Which meant that the proof—if there was any—was somewhere nearby.
She didn’t mention her feeling that the teacup was trying desperately to tell her something. If in fact her mother’s spirit resided there, Lillian was having the devil of a time getting through.
“Who’s your mother’s lawyer?” Cheryl asked.
“I already contacted them,” Kate replied. “According to her attorneys, the only time they saw my mother was to draw up her will.” Kate took another long swallow of the cool wine, feeling a pleasant buzz. “And speaking of wills,” she confided, “it seems my mother left a third of her estate to Max Connors.”
“I’m not surprised,” Cheryl said.
Kate’s eyebrows shot up at Cheryl’s matter-of-fact response. “Really? Why not?”
“Your mother spent a lot of time over there working with the kids. She loved that place.”
This was news to Kate. “Max’s kids?”
Cheryl gave her an odd look. “Max doesn’t have any kids, silly. He’s not even married.”
Kate blinked in confusion. “What kids, then?”
“The kids who get therapy out at the ranch,” Cheryl explained. “They call it a Therapeutic Horseback Riding Program, and your mother was in charge of getting volunteers to work shifts with the kids. But no one volunteered as many hours as your mother did.” Cheryl cocked her head. “I’m surprised she didn’t tell you about it.”
Kate thought back over the letters her mother had sent. She’d mentioned volunteers, but Kate had assumed she was talking about a social committee. When did she start spending so much time at Max’s ranch?
“You remember Max’s sister, Sue?”
Kate nodded.
“Well,” Cheryl continued, “it all started when Sue’s little boy Bobby was diagnosed with cerebral palsy. Max discovered that riding horses helped Bobby with his balance and motor skills. Before long they were bringing in kids from all over. Half the town volunteered to help out.”
Kate remembered the boy in braces who’d brought flowers for “Miz Lilly”. She’d seen him get into a pick-up truck afterward. That must have been Bobby. And Max.
Now it all started to make sense. Why hadn’t Max told her? “So the money was to keep the ranch going for the kids?”
“Of course. Some of the patients have insurance to cover the treatment, but Max provides a physical therapist, speech therapist and occupational therapist as part of the program. Most of them volunteer their services, but some of the expense still comes out of his pocket. Max would never turn a child away who needed him.”
“Oh God.” Kate blushed with embarrassment, remembering how she’d accused Max of trying to con money from her mother. She should have given him the chance to explain before barging in and making wild accusations. She’d let her old resentment rule her heart and now she had some apologizing to do.
“Hey,” Cheryl said, snapping her fingers. “Wh
y don’t you come out there with me tomorrow? It’s my day to volunteer as a sidewalker—walking alongside the horse and rider during therapy. I’ve got the cutest little girl on Saturdays. Her name is Nikki and she has Down’s syndrome. I’m warning you though—she’ll steal your heart in no time flat.”
Kate smiled. “I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.” She started to sit up, but the wine had made her dizzy.
“Besides,” Cheryl said, “the scenery out at the ranch ain’t half bad, either.”
“Scenery?”
“You know—cowboys in tight jeans and leather chaps.”
Kate blushed, thinking of Max. She couldn’t agree more. “Hey,” she said. “You’re married!”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t admire a tight butt.”
Tommy chose that moment to walk out. “I heard that,” he said. “And what’s wrong with my butt?”
Cheryl reached out and pinched him as he walked past. “Not a thing, sweetcheeks,” she purred.
“You girls are tipsy.”
“Are not!” they cried in unison.
Kate held up the empty bottle and looked at it with a puzzled expression on her face. “Did we finish this whole bottle ourselves?”
“Nope,” Cheryl giggled. “Tommy had a glass with dinner.”
“Oh good,” Kate replied. “I wouldn’t want to think we were lushes.”
That struck them both as funny and they collapsed in giggles again.
Tommy balanced on the edge of Cheryl’s lounge chair. “I guess that makes me the designated driver tonight.”
“Oh, that’ll work out great,” Cheryl said. “If you take Kate home tonight, then I’ll pick her up in the morning and we’ll go out to the ranch together. She can grab her car when we get back.”
“That’s all I want you grabbing, hear?” Tommy said, teasing his wife. “Keep your hands off any tight butts in leather chaps.”
Cheryl patted his knee. “Yours is the only butt I need.” She winked at Kate, as if to say…that doesn’t mean I can’t look.
*
Max had been sitting on Kate’s doorstep for over an hour. It was obvious she wasn’t home, but he kept giving her five more minutes, hoping she’d show up. The sun had set in a brilliant blaze, leaving him alone in the dark with only his thoughts for company.