The waitress was taking Cassie's order, and Ted snapped back to reality.
"Mmm. Well, that entrée sounded good . . . but I'll have the shrimp and chicken dinner . . . and salad with no dressing or tomatoes, and a baked potato with sour cream."
Cassie really was hungry, and she had no intention of letting Ted's amorous advances get in the way of her supper.
"What would you like, sir?" The waitress turned to Ted and tapped her pencil delicately on her order pad.
"Whatever she just ordered. But I'll have fries instead of a baked potato," Ted said.
The waitress nodded, and headed for the swinging doors that led to the restaurant kitchen.
Cassie hummed a pretty melody somewhat absentmindedly, and looked around the restaurant at the other diners. Not him, Ted noticed.
He seized the opportunity to study her profile in the candlelight. She seemed more beautiful and more—was the word womanly?—every day. He listened to her hum, trying to make out the tune.
The smoothness of her voice intrigued him. He could imagine her singing a lullaby . . . it would be a bit off-key, judging from the way he'd heard her sing hymns in church on Sunday, but it would still sound sweet . . .
"Whatever are you thinking about?" she asked. Ted sat up straighter and stopped mooning over her.
"You," he said simply. "I've got good news. I claimed you on our tax return and got back a lot more money than I expected."
"That's nice." She didn't seem particularly interested.
"Cassie, hasn't it ever occurred to you that you could ask for half of everything I own when we get a divorce? You could ask for a settlement, alimony . . ."
"Why would I do that?"
"You're doing it again." Ted shook his head. "You're asking a question instead of answering one."
"I don't want anything you have. Besides, what's half of what a dirt farmer has, anyway? Remember when I thought you were a dirt farmer?" She smiled. "Seriously, Ted, I don't want anything. You've been wonderful to me. You've changed my life. Your family is—I don't think I could find the words to say what they mean to me. I wouldn't do that to you, or them."
Ted considered her words very carefully.
"I can't take anything from you either, Cassie. I would've gotten a refund because I deliberately overpay on my quarterly estimates. But because I was married I got six thousand extra dollars. I—uh—want to buy you a car." Ted spit it out before he could lose his nerve. He'd thought about putting the money in an account for her special use so she could use it for her education if she left him, or just simply giving it to her and letting her do what she wanted with it—but he damned sure hoped she didn't use it to go away forever.
"Nope," she said firmly. "You keep the money. I won't need a car. I can manage. You've done enough."
"I intend to buy you a car or a small pickup." Ted was tired of talking about it and his mind was made up. "You can't talk me out of it," he added just as the waitress brought their food.
"This looks good." Cassie picked up a piece of batter-fried shrimp. "I love shrimp! And I said no. I don't want anything from you. Thanks all the same." She tried to refuse lightly.
His jaw set in that same way it did the night he told her she was too young to know what a wife should do and be.
"You are serious." She looked at him in the candlelight, which cast soft shadows on his handsome face. She had assumed that his family had put him up to this—after all, the Wellmans didn't want for money. But how much had Ted made last year to get a refund for more than she and her grandmother had lived on for a whole year?
"I'm as serious as a heart attack." He wasn't smiling. "Which is what I think you're trying to give me. That amount won't buy a new car but it will buy a decent used one. If you want a new one, say the word and I'll get it for you."
"No," Cassie told him. "I don't even need a used one. But it would be nice not to have to be so dependent on everyone for rides."
"Then it's done." Ted picked up his knife and cut off a piece of chicken and popped it in his mouth.
"Just like that?" She snapped her fingers. "Ted Wellman, sometimes you make me so damned mad I could spit!"
"What?" He stopped chewing. "I'm buying you a car and you're mad at me? Is there something wrong with this picture, Cassie Wellman?"
"Not a damned thing," she hissed. "Just don't try to buy my loyalty—or whatever you think you're buying—with a car. I can still drive away in it—"
"Yeah?" Ted retorted. "I'm not so sure I'll miss you if you do." His temper flared. "It's your damned money, Cassie. All I'm doing is trying to be decent and give it to you."
She sulked, ate her food without tasting it, and didn't speak to him for ten minutes. You are a chicken if you don't apologize, her conscience sing-songed. You were dead wrong to attack him like that and you know it.
I won't, she argued with herself. He's pigheaded and hateful to say he won't miss me. When we made love he told me he loved me and now he says he won't miss me if I go, so, I was right. He can't figure out how he feels and neither can I.
You're being hateful and your granny would say so herself, her conscience said. Cassie poked glumly at the last shrimp on her plate, and gave up.
"I'm sorry." Cassie looked across the table at him and knew she'd really hurt his feelings. "I was wrong to be hateful and I'm really sorry. Forgive me?"
"An apology from the Queen of Sass?" His eyes twinkled a little.
"I said I was sorry. What do you want? For me to drop down on my knees and beg?" she said testily.
"That would be a sight to behold." Ted grinned. "Of course, I'd have to call the undertaker if you did because I've no doubt it would kill you to beg anyone for anything!"
On Monday of the next week a brand new Chevrolet S-10 pickup truck was delivered to Cassie at the clinic. It was candy apple red with red leather interior and the keys were hung on a fourteen carat tag in the shape of a pig. On the back was the inscription: To Cassie Wellman, the Queen of Sass. From your favorite You-Know-What.
Cassie had to admit it was magnificent. And she couldn't have needed wheels more than right then, because Momma had just called with some startling news: Ted's younger sister had decided to get married. Every member of the family had been told to meet at the house, and Momma's parents were flying in from Texas as soon as possible.
Chapter Thirteen
Momma's parents had arrived. No one had expected Momma's grandmother to come with them, but nothing could stop the determined old lady.
She was less than five feet tall, weighed ninety pounds soaking wet, and was at least eighty years old. She spoke fluent Spanish and understood English well, but she rarely spoke it. Her black, long-sleeved dress had a simple white lace collar and the only jewelry she wore was a wide gold wedding band her husband had put on her finger when they wed, and a diamond brooch in the shape of the letter S that he gave her when they had been married for fifty years.
Everyone called her Abuelita. Little Grandmother.
Ted drove to the airport to pick them all up with his father. When Bob helped Abuelita from the plane, Ted knew he might have to pick his mother up from a dead faint. His mother's grandmother had been born in Mexico and came across the border to marry the man her parents chose for her when she was fourteen years old. She'd never been outside the state of Texas since except for a few visits with her own people when they were still living.
"Welcome!" Ted hugged his great-grandmother. "We are so glad you have come to visit us." He spoke slowly and clearly so she would understand, but he couldn't keep the excitement from his voice. Then he hugged his grandmother and grandfather. "Momma and Poppa Rhodes, I'm so glad to see you. How did you ever talk Abuelita into coming with you?"
"We didn't." Poppa Rhodes shook his head. "She called your grandmother only yesterday and said that she wanted to come to Oklahoma before Liz has her baby. I guess she wants to see the next generation arrive. She also made it clear that she's not going home until Alicia is married prop
erly."
Ted looked at his mother, behind the glass half-wall of the waiting area. She turned pale first, and then squealed and waved like a young teenager.
"Maggie, look who's here!" she yelled, as she crossed the waiting area and hugged her grandmother.
"There is no need to make such a fuss," the elderly woman said patiently, smoothing her black dress, which had been slightly crumpled by Momma's exuberant embrace. 'I am here for the first time, but perhaps it will not be the last."
Maggie had come running and Abuelita's dress was creased once more.
A convoy of Wellman family vehicles pulled into the driveway, next to Cassie's new red truck.
"Hello! Welcome!" Cassie waved from the verandah, which she had quickly decorated with huge, colorful paper flowers in honor of Abuelita's unexpected arrival. Ted looked pleased. Cassie had a knack for making things beautiful—without much money.
His sweet Cassie was busy greeting everyone, and she almost seemed to know them all. Ted recollected that she had studied up on family photographs before everyone got there.
Momma Rhodes was a petite and pretty old lady, just as Cassie had expected. Poppa Rhodes wasn't very tall either, but he was muscular from years of hard work. His thick hair had gone mostly gray and his olive-green eyes danced with mischief.
Abuelita came slowly up the walk, and shrugged off Ted's assisting arm.
The old woman looked closely at her. "You must be Cassie. You may call me Abuelita, as they all do. You have pretty red hair, but your hips look a little small for children. See a good doctor."
She turned back and faced her family.
"Why are you all standing there? Carry my bags into the house, please, Ted. I am tired. I have left my home and traveled in an airplane for the first time, today."
Ted bounded up with several handsome old valises of Spanish leather, incised with bold flower designs that had been painstakingly carved by hand, many years ago.
Cassie helped Abuelita with the small bag she carried, and turned to Maria.
"Maria, which room?" Ted had called from the airport to let her know that Abuelita had come, but she hadn't had time to prepare a room especially for her.
"The one beside Alicia's. The blue room. If I'd know you were coming, Abuelita, I would have a room all fixed up," Maria said respectfully.
"It is not important," the old woman said firmly. "Come with me, my child," she said to Cassie. "Show me this blue room. I want to hear how you and my great-grandson fell in love with each other."
Ted shot Cassie a warning look which she blithely ignored as she took the elderly woman's arm and led her through the back door and up the stairs. "Yes. ma'am," she said. "I'm sure that you want to hear all about it." Cassie had a feeling that Abuelita was a skilled practitioner of the art of matchmaking.
It wasn't long before Cassie was as thick as thieves with Ted's great-grandmother. She was the only one Abuelita asked to sit beside her at meal times. Cassie had been requested to help her up the stairs at bedtime and stay with her while the old lady told stories of her childhood in Mexico and the days when she was first married. Cassie was also required to answer a great many questions about her relationship with Ted.
The old lady confided her cherished dream to Cassie . . . she hoped to see her only great-grandson wed before she died, as well as Alicia. Cassie didn't know quite what to say. She didn't want to dash Abuelita's fondest hope—and she didn't want to lead the old lady to believe in something that might not ever happen.
Fortunately, right now the family was absorbed in wedding plans for Alicia—who had unexpectedly chosen the quietest of her swains to bestow her hand upon: Tyler McLaughlin, her college boyfriend, who went around looking like he didn't know what had hit him. Cassie was probably the only other outsider who had experienced the Wellmans persuasive talents, and she knew how he felt.
Alicia had recently threatened to elope, throwing the family into a minor uproar, and Cassie prayed that the commotion would take some of the heat off of her, and Ted.
Unfortunately, Abuelita seemed determined to see results on all fronts before she went back home to Texas. But so far, she had only managed to talk Maria into throwing an engagement party for her great-granddaughter.
It was nearly midnight, and Alicia's engagement party was nearly over. The band had packed up their instruments and gone home, followed by the catering service staff. The Wellman family had gathered around in the living room to watch Alicia and Tyler open their personal gifts.
Alicia seemed to be happily in charge, and Tyler still looked a little overwhelmed. The happy couple were enthroned on the sofa, with a lapful of presents to open.
The bride-to-be opened cards from her uncles Ash and Brock first, each with several hundred dollars tucked inside. "Wow! Thanks! This is the first month's rent on an apartment when we find one." She waved the money at Tyler, who nodded his thanks.
"No apartments. Open mine." Abuelita indicated a big, brown manila envelope.
"What's this?" Alicia opened the envelope and pulled out a thick sheaf of documents. "Looks legal." She passed it all to Tyler, who merely raised an eyebrow.
"This is the deed to the little house your great-grandfather and I started out in. I'm giving it to you so you don't have to live in an apartment." Abuelita shuddered politely at the the thought, and Ted winked over the back of the sofa at Cassie.
"It was six acres and five bedrooms, so the children will have a nice play to play," she told them.
Tears filled Alicia's dark eyes as she hugged her great-grandmother. "Abuelita, saying thank you is not enough."
"No, it is not, but lots of grandbabies might be." The old lady's dark eyes glittered.
The rest of the family gave the soon-to-be-married pair enough cash and gift certificates to furnish Abuelita's "little house" six times over. Alicia wasn't going to need any wedding gifts, Cassie thought. Which was good, because they'd had to talk her into having a formal wedding anyway.
Maria clapped her hands to get everyone's attention.
"'Now it's Cassie's turn!"
"Huh?" Cassie looked at Ted, who wouldn't look at her. "But we're not engaged. We're married. We did it backwards and that doesn't mean we get gifts," she tried to explain.
"But it's your birthday, Cassie," Maria and Maggie chorused. "You've done so much for us—we wanted to do something for you."
Cassie looked over at Ted again, but he was pretending to study an extremely interesting loose thread on the blue velvet upholstery. She'd have to settle his hash later. He knew she hated any kind of fuss.
The family gathered around once more, and Cassie opened generous, thoughtful gifts of cash and jewelry, as if she were in a dream. When she had thanked everyone ten times over, Ted finally decided to look at her.
He handed her a tiny present.
Everyone in the room seemed to have an inkling of just what a present that size might contain, and everyone held their breath.
It was wrapped in bright red, shiny paper and had a gold bow on top. There was a card not much bigger than a postage stamp hanging from the bow. She opened it and read a very simple message . . . With Love. Ted.
Cassie was dismayed, but didn't want to show it. It had to be a ring. But surely Ted had enough tact not to embarrass her with an engagement diamond that she wasn't ready for in front of them all.
She took off the red, shiny paper, and bow to reveal a gold foil box. She took the lid off, expecting to find a jeweler's box inside. She wasn't disappointed. There it was . . . in red velvet, no less.
Cassie flipped the lid, realized what was inside, and yelled loud enough to raise the roof. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him all over his face, as tears streamed down her cheeks.
"What is it?" Alicia knew it had to be a huge diamond to get that kind of reaction.
"Must be a chunk of ice as big as my foot to make her holler like that," Brock chuckled. "I've never seen her look so happy. Not even on the day they delivered her new
truck to the clinic. Come on, Cassie. Are you going to show us what's in the box or not?"
She didn't seem to hear his question.
"Ted—you're an angel. You are a perfect sweetheart. How did you ever find them?"
Everyone's curiosity was piqued, and they craned their necks to see.
Ted's face was as red as a boiled lobster. He hadn't known exactly how she'd react to his gift, and at the last moment he'd been afraid she'd be disappointed.
But holy smoke and damnation, they'd more or less promised each other not to mention anything to do with marriage, and Ted wasn't about to give her an engagement ring of her own until he was absolutely sure that was what she wanted.
"What did Ted give you, Cassie?" Abuelita asked inquisitively.
"Look." Cassie perched on Ted's knee and turned the box around to show them a tiny little engagement ring and a plain gold band that matched. The rings were old-fashioned in style, and it suddenly dawned on Maria why they had meant so much to Cassie.
"They're my mother's rings," Cassie said proudly. "The very same ones I sold to buy a bus ticket when I ran away. They're the only thing I had of my mother's. And Ted has bought them back for me!"
Late that night, in the wee hours of the morning, Ted laced his hands behind his neck and sighed again, for the hundredth time. He'd made Cassie happy—truly happy—and that made him feel remarkably good. He was thinking about the way she'd kissed him for his simple gift when he heard a faint knock on the door.
"Come in," he said softly, not really so very surprised to see her sneak in the door and cross the room to his bed.
"Ted, I can't sleep," she whispered.
"I can't either."
He rolled over in his bed and propped himself up on one elbow. Even in the dim glow from hall light, Cassie could see that he was barechested. The covers were drawn up only to his waist.
"Come here, Cassie."
The look in his dark eyes dared her to say no. She didn't.
Cassie locked the door with a faint but definite click. She raised her nightshirt over her head, revealing nothing but milky skin underneath.
Small Town Romance Collection: Four Complete Romances & A New Novella Page 52