The Maverick

by Jan Hudson

  “How absolutely terrible,” Belle said. “How can I help? I’m not much of a cook, but I can wash dishes.”

  “The kitchen staff is arriving shortly, and they’ll see to the rest of the dishes, but thanks, Belle,” Cass said. “We plan to reopen on Monday.”

  Belle turned on the charm and chatted with Gloria and Min about their trip. When she heard that Gloria was a painter, she said, “My mother-in-law is a painter, quite an excellent one. She has a gallery in Wimberley, The Firefly. You must come down sometime and visit. Do you paint, too, Min?”

  “Oh, heavens no. I do needlework.”

  “Don’t be modest, Aunt Min,” Sunny said. “Her needlework is exquisite. I’m so envious. I can barely sew on a button.”

  “It was so delightful meeting you,” Belle said to the older women, “but I must be running along. I’m sure you must have a world of things to do before the reopening.”

  Min cocked her head at Belle. “Have we met before? You look very familiar somehow.”

  “No, I’m sure we’ve never met.”

  “Humph,” Gloria said. “I should imagine she looks familiar. Look at her and look at your nieces. They could be sisters.”

  “That must be it,” Min said.

  “We’ve heard that before,” Cass said. “Strange, isn’t it? Belle, I’ll walk you out. I want to ask you something.” She hooked her arm through her cousin’s and practically dragged her out the door.

  Once they were outside, Belle said, “I’m sorry I came at an awkward time. I didn’t dream they were back yet.”

  “Not a problem. I’m sorry the situation was uncomfortable for you. We have to tell them about meeting the whole Outlaw family sooner or later, and your visit has given us the perfect opening. I’m glad they got to meet you.”

  “I hope it turns out well. Oh, before I forget, Frank and Carrie are coming down next weekend, and Carrie said she wants to meet privately with you and Sunny. We’d love to have you join us in Wimberley on Sunday or, if that’s not possible, Carrie can come to Austin. I think she wanted to combine everything in one trip if possible.”

  Curious about the odd request, Cass frowned. Carrie Outlaw, who was married to Frank James Outlaw, judge of the Naconiche County Court of Law, was a former landman for an oil company. She’d come to town to lease drilling rights in the area, and stayed to marry Frank. These days she practiced law in town. “I wonder what she wants?”

  “She didn’t say, and I didn’t ask. Are you free?”

  “I’ll have to check with Sunny. Shall I get back to you or to Carrie?”

  “Me first. I can relay your message, and she can call you if she needs to.”

  They said goodbye and Cass reentered the dining room. The business with Carrie was intriguing but totally overshadowed by having to deal with telling her mother about their new relationship with the Outlaw family.

  Everybody appeared as if they’d been zapped into suspended animation while she was gone. Sunny was sitting stock-still, staring down at her hands; their mom was staring at Sunny; Aunt Min was staring at Gloria.

  “Sorry about the interruption,” Cass said. “Anything else we need to go over, Sunny?”

  “Uh, no. I think we’ve just about covered everything.”

  Cass sat back down in the chair she’d vacated earlier and tried desperately to think of the right opening. Her scalp prickled and she began to reexperience the sausage biscuit she’d eaten earlier.

  “She’s a lovely young woman,” Gloria said.

  “Who?”

  “Belle. What did you say her last name was?”

  “Burrell. Her husband’s name is Gabe.”

  “I see,” Gloria said, pinning Cass with a sharp gaze, the same gaze that never missed anything. “And what is her father’s name?”

  “Wes.” Cass swallowed. “Wes Outlaw.”

  One could have heard the proverbial pin drop.

  “My stars and garters!” Aunt Min said.

  Gloria took a deep breath. “I see. No wonder her resemblance to you is amazing.”

  “Belle is Belle Starr Outlaw Burrell. We’ve met the whole family. We didn’t go looking for them. One of Belle’s brothers came in for lunch one day and, quite by accident we discovered we were cousins. And, Mom, all the Outlaws were delighted to learn about us.”

  “They’ve welcomed us into the family with open arms,” Sunny said. “They’re such nice people, and they’re eager to meet you, Mom.”

  “I see.”

  “Gloria,” Min said quietly, “it was bound to happen sooner or later. Isn’t it wonderful things have turned out so well?”

  “Of course. I just need a little time to get used to the idea. Now, girls, if you’ll excuse us for a while, Min and I have some shopping to do.” She rose and walked toward the back exit.

  Aunt Min shrugged and whispered, “Don’t fret. She’ll come around. Just give her a bit of time to chew on it.” She patted her nieces’ hands, rose and followed her sister.

  “That went well,” Sunny said, rolling her eyes.

  “Actually, it went better than I expected. At least Mom didn’t go into hysterics.”

  “And when,” Sunny asked, “did you ever see Mom go into hysterics?”

  “Never, now that I think about it. I suppose the closest was when I got a C in conduct in the second grade. Or when you fell off your bike and were all bloody.”

  “I just hope she isn’t too hurt by this,” Sunny said.

  The kitchen crew arrived just then and the two of them went to get things organized.

  They got busy, and Cass didn’t remember until later to tell Sunny about Carrie Outlaw wanting to meet with them. Both were curious about the request, but they decided there was no need to speculate until they talked with her. In consideration of their mother, they also decided not to go to Wimberley and spend the day with part of the Outlaw clan just yet.

  Cass talked with Carrie that evening, and they agreed to meet for a late Sunday breakfast in Drippings Springs, the small town about halfway between Austin and Wimberley. Even through she tried her best to get more information, Carrie was evasive.

  “It’s business, and better if we talk in person,” Carrie said. “See you in a week.”

  “Okay.” Frustrated and totally baffled, Cass ended the call.

  Her cell rang again almost immediately. She recognized the number. Griff.

  “Hi,” he said. “I’ve been missing you. Tired?”

  “Absolutely pooped. If I had a tub, I’d sit here and soak my feet.”

  “I have a tub,” he said. “And a big swimming pool.”

  “You know, a swim right now would be fantastic.”

  “Come on over.”

  “I can’t stay long.”

  She could practically hear that sexy smile of his over the phone. “I’ll take what I can get. Your bathing suit is ready and waiting for you.”

  THE NIGHT WAS COOL, the water was warm and Griff’s kiss was hot.

  “Don’t get that started,” Cass said, pulling away. “I need to get home early.”

  “I can come home with you.”

  “I don’t think so. My mother’s had enough shocks for one day.”

  “And what was so shocking to her today?” he asked as he lazily sidestroked beside her.

  “Belle dropped by.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “Exactly. Sunny and I had to spill the whole thing about meeting the Outlaws.”

  “Did she explode?”

  “No. Strangely enough, after she had time to digest the idea, she took it rather well. I think she was relieved her worst fears hadn’t come to pass, that our father’s family wasn’t horrified to learn of our existence. Still, she’s been subdued today.”

  “At least you don’t have the worry hanging over your head.” He captured her in his arms again, kissed her again and they sank beneath the water.

  She came up sputtering and laughing and splashing him. “Are you trying to drown me? It won’t work, yo
u know. At least half the people on this side of the hotel are watching your moves.”

  “Then come upstairs with me. We’ll order a bottle of wine, and I’ll massage your feet.”

  She flipped on her back and floated. “You’d really massage my feet?”

  “Of course. You have lovely feet.” He stroked her arch and flexed her foot. “I’ll even nibble your toes—and anywhere else you name.”

  His suggestive tone sent shivers over her, and she felt her resolve to leave early quickly fading away. She wasn’t nearly as tired as she’d been earlier.

  BEFORE THEY GOT TO THE foot massage, Cass and Griff showered, and the shower took much longer and was more intimate than she’d intended. After they’d changed into shorts, Griff took a towel and led her to the sofa.

  “Lie down,” he said.

  She cocked an eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”

  “I promised you a foot massage.”

  “Yes you did. I thought it had slipped your mind. What are you going to use?”

  “My hands. I’m very good with my hands.”

  Cass chuckled. “I’ll grant you that, but I meant do you have lotion or oil?”

  Griff looked pained. “I’ll run down to the gift shop and get something.”

  “No need,” Cass said. “There should be some lotion in one of those little bottles in the bathroom.”

  “Right. Be right back.”

  He was back with a handful of bottles before she got settled. He spread the towel over his thighs, then patted it. “Put your feet up here.” After he unscrewed a bottle cap, he sniffed the contents. “This ought to do it.”

  He picked up her left foot, kissed her big toe, then poured about half the contents on the top of her foot and began to massage.

  Griff had been right. He did have wonderful hands. Still, something didn’t seem quite right. Cass lifted her head and looked at her foot. Despite his enthusiastic rubbing, the lotion hadn’t dispersed at all. True, he’d used quite a bit, but none of it was being absorbed into her skin.

  “What did you put on my foot?”

  He grinned. “Good-smelling stuff. Like it?”

  “Griff, my foot is beginning to lather.”

  He frowned, then picked up the small bottle he’d used and squinted at the writing on it. Handing it to her, he said, “What does that say?”

  She read it and started laughing. “Didn’t you read it?”

  “I don’t have my contacts in.”

  “I didn’t know you wore contacts.”

  “I do. Otherwise I’m blind as one of those bats you’ve been talking about. What does it say?”

  “Shampoo.” She howled with laughter.

  Griff wasn’t amused. She could tell by the air he turned blue. “I’m sorry. Now I feel like a damned fool.”

  “I think it’s a hoot. It’s reassuring to know you’re not perfect.”

  “Honey, trust me, I’m a long way from perfect.”

  She put her arms around his neck and drew him close. “Couldn’t prove it by me.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was after midnight before Cass finally made it home and fell into bed. Knowing there were still dozens of last minute things to do the next day, she postponed her Sunday surprise activity with Griff until Monday. He didn’t seem to mind. In fact he showed up at Chili Witches Sunday morning with huge boxes of breakfast tacos and doughnuts for everybody.

  “Wasn’t it sweet of Griff to bring these?” Cass said to her mother as she offered her a taco.

  “Very nice of him.” Gloria gave Griff a polite smile.

  Ben McKee and his brother-in-law, Rick, came in a pickup to return the stored office furniture to its place. Griff pitched in and helped tote the desk, file cabinets and other items to the café’s office. With everybody helping, the office was restored quickly and the computer and other electronic equipment plugged up and ready to go.

  By one o’clock, the dishes sparkled, the pantry was stocked, the cooler was full and everything was prepared for Monday. The kitchen staff left, Gloria and Min went home for a nap, Rick took off in the pickup and Ben rode home with Sunny. Griff and Cass were left alone to lock up.

  “Want to come upstairs and watch the game?” she asked.

  “Which game?”

  “Whichever one is on. Sunday afternoon is sports or old movies.”

  “Sure, but I have to get something from the car first. I brought you a present.”

  “A present. What?”

  “It’s a surprise.” He trotted to his rental car and took out a red gift bag.

  When he handed it to her, Cass peeked inside, then smiled. “Massage lotion. There must be a quart here.”

  “Be Prepared is my motto. Let’s go upstairs and I’ll massage your tootsies properly.” He gave her a devilish grin.

  The foot massage didn’t happen. They ended up on Cass’s sectional watching the Yankees, with Griff’s head in her lap. In about twenty seconds flat, he was sound asleep.

  When it became apparent he was down for the count, she gently retrieved the remote clutched in his hand and switched to an old musical comedy.

  When Cass awoke sometime later, she was surprised to find herself with her head against Griff’s shoulder and the Yankees in the last of the ninth.

  “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” she said, stretching.

  “You were tired. I hate to see you work so hard, and it seems as if your talents are wasted running a café. Have you considered doing something else?”

  “Well, I’ve considered running for city council.”

  “Sounds like a great idea. Do it.”

  Cass sighed. “Even a campaign would take a tremendous amount of time, and if I got elected, I’d hate to dump most of the responsibility for the business on Sunny. I just couldn’t do that to her, especially now when she and Ben are getting married, and she’ll have a family to think about.”

  “Have you ever considered selling the business?” Griff asked.

  “Bite your tongue, buster. Sunny and I grew up in Chili Witches, and Mom and Aunt Min worked too hard growing this business to ever sell it. When their folks died, the two of them sold the family farm and put everything they had into buying this property and starting the café. They started small and worked like dogs to get it off the ground. For years they plowed the majority of their profits back into the business. Sunny and I owe it to them to keep it going. It’s wonderful that now they can retire and enjoy traveling six months of the year. They’re going to Ireland next. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  “You’re a good daughter.” He kissed her forehead.

  “I try.”

  “Seems to me this property, being in such a prime location, should be worth a great deal. I would anticipate you could sell it, invest the proceeds properly and have a higher income for your family than you realize now. And without all the work.”

  Cass felt herself stiffen. “Money isn’t the only issue here. A sense of history is just as important. Maybe more so. Why, even our bar is an antique, well over a hundred years old.”

  Griff flashed his dimples. “Yeah, I remember. From the bawdy house, right?”

  “That’s right. And a very famous bawdy house to boot. It’s even mentioned in some of the historical society’s publications. I’ve been thinking about getting a plaque.”

  “Fine idea.”

  “Glad you think so. Now, the subject of selling Chili Witches is closed. If you’re going to watch another ball game, I’m going to have to have fortification. Want to order a pizza?”

  “Sure,” he said. “Tell me you don’t like anchovies.”

  “I don’t like anchovies. They’re like eating salty eyelashes. No, I take that back. The only way I can tolerate anchovies is in Caesar salad dressing or other stuff where they’re mashed up and disguised. And actually, I prefer my Caesar salad without anchovies if given the choice. Did you know that anchovies weren’t part of the original recipe?”

  “On pizza?”
>
  “In Caesar salad.”

  “No, I didn’t. Should I take notes?”

  She laughed and hit him with a pillow. “I’ll order the works, no anchovies. Do you want onions?”

  “Are you having onions?”

  “Sure.”

  “Then I’ll have some, too.”

  After she phoned in the order, Cass picked up the TV listings to scan, and Griff rested his chin on her shoulder to read. “There’s a Dodgers game starting in a few minutes.”

  “My father would disown me if I watched it. He still hasn’t forgiven the Dodgers for moving from Brooklyn to California. Why don’t we watch a movie?”

  She glanced over the film listings. “Oh, look. Ghost. I loved that movie. Whoopi Goldberg won an Oscar for her part. She was hilarious. Have you ever seen it?”

  “Not that I recall. What’s it about?”

  “It’s about a ghost. You’ll see.”

  The timing was perfect. The pizza arrived just before the movie started, and they curled up to watch. Cass got teary-eyed at the tender parts and laughed at the funny parts the way she always did. Griff seemed to enjoy it—or at least he didn’t complain or groan at inappropriate times the way some men were prone to do.

  When it was over, she sniffed, and Griff frowned. “Are you crying?”

  “Just a little. I adore that movie.”

  “It was okay. I suppose I’m more into realism.”

  “I take it you don’t believe in ghosts?” she said.

  “I’ve never seen one. Have you?”

  She hesitated. Should she tell him? Griff would think she was nuts. “My sister has,” she said as a compromise. It was safer talking about Sunny’s experiences than her own.

  “Really?” He appeared surprised. “Sunny sees ghosts?”

  “Not ghosts. One ghost she’s seen several times. She claims she even talks to the Senator—our father, but she calls him the Senator.”

  “Hmm. What does he look like?”

  “Tall, gray-haired, a lot like Uncle Wes.”

  “How old was he when he died?” Griff asked.

  “Forty.”

  “Was his hair gray then?”

  “No. The pictures I’ve seen of him show his hair was about like mine. Dark.”