Glen was going to kiss her.
She could have moved, avoided his kiss and the embarrassment that was sure to follow, but curiosity got the better of her. As his mouth slowly lowered toward hers, her eyes drifted shut. She half expected him to draw back at the last second, but he didn’t—and she was glad.
His lips were moist and warm as they settled gently on hers. The gentleness lasted only a moment, and then he thrust his fingers into her short hair and increased the pressure of his mouth. Ellie felt the heat in him, the unaccustomed desire. And she felt his tension. She understood it because she was feeling the same thing. A sense of discomfort, even guilt. This was Glen, her friend. And they were kissing like lovers, like a couple well beyond the range of friendship.
Ellie slipped her hands up his chest and anchored her fingers at his shoulders. The kiss took on another dimension. The hunger that had been held in check was replaced by heady excitement. Ellie opened to Glen without restraint, reserving nothing. He deepened the kiss until they both trembled. When he abruptly broke it off, his breathing was heavy and labored. So was hers.
Slowly Ellie opened her eyes. Glen was staring at her, his forehead creased in a deep frown.
“What was that?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“A kiss,” he said, sounding almost angry.
“I know that. What I’m asking is…why?”
“Why?” he repeated, sounding as uncertain as she was. “Because…because you were crying.”
“So?”
“It was shock therapy,” he said, easing himself away from her, gently at first and then as if he couldn’t move fast enough. He scooted unceremoniously to the side of the sofa.
Not knowing what to think, much less say, she blinked.
“It worked,” he said as if this entire incident had been carefully planned. “You’re not crying, are you?”
Ellie raised her fingertips to her face. He was right.
“I had to do something,” he said, sounding more like himself now—confident, amused, down-to-earth.
“Something,” she repeated, trying not to press her fingers against her slightly swollen lips.
“Anything,” he added. “I was getting desperate. You feel better, don’t you?”
She had to consider that for a moment. But it was true.
“Hey, I didn’t mean…” He hesitated as if not sure how to continue.
Ellie wasn’t sure she wanted him to. “Me neither,” she told him quickly, far more comfortable dropping the matter than exploring it further. Glen was a damn good friend and she didn’t want one stupid kiss to ruin this friendship.
He relaxed visibly. “Good.”
She smiled and nodded. “I gotta admit, though,” she said, eagerly falling back on the comfortable banter they’d always enjoyed, “you’re one fine kisser.”
“Damn fine,” he agreed and puffed out his chest in a parody of male pride. “You aren’t the first one to tell me that.”
Ellie rolled her eyes toward the ceiling.
“You aren’t so bad yourself.”
“Don’t I know it.” Standing, she hooked her thumbs in the belt loops of her jeans and rocked on her heels. “Plenty of other guys have told me I’m hot stuff.”
“I can see why.”
They laughed then, both of them, but Ellie noticed that their laughter had a decidedly shaky sound to it.
“SHAKY” PRETTY WELL described how Glen felt. An hour later he pulled into the long driveway that led from the highway to the Lonesome Coyote Ranch. He trembled every time he thought about kissing Ellie.
Fool that he was, he’d given in to a crazy impulse and damn near made the biggest mistake of his life.
Glen blamed Cal for this. His brother was the one who’d planted the idea, claiming Glen’s relationship with Ellie was far more than friendship. Cal had just said it a few too many times and hell—Glen shook his head—one minute he was looking down at Ellie and the next thing he knew they were kissing. What scared the living daylights out of him was how incredibly good the kiss had been. It wasn’t supposed to be that good, but it had shot straight off the Richter scale.
Oh, yeah, Ellie had shaken him up plenty.
Thank goodness he’d been able to make light of the incident, brush it off. Ellie had seemed just as eager to put it behind them. For the first time in years he’d been uncomfortable with his best friend. With Ellie. All because of an impulsive kiss, something that never should’ve happened.
He parked the truck and sat in the stillness of the night to gather his wits about him. He recalled how the kiss had ended and she’d looked up at him, her striking blue eyes wide with shock. Damn if it hadn’t taken every ounce of willpower he possessed not to kiss her again.
Thank God he hadn’t. Gratitude welled up inside him. Had they continued much longer they would’ve ruined everything. Knowing he was being less than subtle about it, he’d gotten the hell out of that house. Again Ellie had obviously felt relieved to be rid of him. With any luck they’d both forget the entire incident. For his part he never intended to mention it again, and he sincerely hoped Ellie didn’t, either.
Once he felt sufficiently calm, he climbed out of the truck and walked into the house. Cal sat in the kitchen with ledgers spread out across the table. He glanced up when Glen entered the room and did a double take.
“You okay?’
“Why shouldn’t I be?” Glen demanded sharply.
“No need to bite my head off,” his brother snapped back. “What happened? You have a spat with Ellie?”
“No.”
“I see.” Cal returned, not bothering to suppress a smile.
“I’m going to bed,” Glen announced.
“Good idea,” Cal called after him. “Sleep might improve your disposition.”
Glen stomped up the stairs and was breathless by the time he entered his bedroom. He closed the door and sagged onto the edge of the mattress. With his elbows resting on his knees, he inhaled deeply several times. No wonder he was shaking. He’d had a narrow escape.
THE NIGHT WAS ALIVE WITH SOUND. The intoxicating aroma of old roses filled the air. Katydids chirped and the porch swing creaked as Savannah and Laredo swayed back and forth, back and forth. The stars were generous with their glittering bounty that night. It all said romance, the romance of song and story, and it suited Savannah’s mood perfectly.
She leaned her head against Laredo’s shoulder and his arm held her close. Even now, resting in her husband’s strong embrace, she found it difficult to believe this wonderful man loved her.
“What’s on your mind?” he whispered.
Savannah’s lips eased into a ready smile. “I was just thinking how fortunate I am that you love me.”
Laredo went still, and she knew his thoughts; he didn’t need to voice them. It was that way sometimes when people were deeply in love. Their marriage was like a miracle, an unexpected gift—and it had come when they were least prepared for it. Because of that, they’d come close to losing it all.
“I loved you when I left you,” Laredo said, his voice hoarse with the intensity of his feelings. “I worry sometimes that you don’t know how difficult it was to walk away from you.”
“I did know, and that’s what made it so hard,” she confided. She would never fully comprehend it, but Laredo had believed that she deserved someone who could give her more than he could. It was one of life’s cruel ironies—without him, money, land and possessions meant very little. But with his love she was rich beyond measure. It was the most precious thing she’d ever had.
The kitchen door creaked open and Savannah’s older brother stepped onto the porch. She wasn’t too pleased with Grady’s poor timing, but decided to overlook it. Not for the first time, either. Look what he’d done just the other day, when he’d made those comments about Caroline at the worst possible moment.
Grady walked to the porch steps and stared into the night sky. “I decided to attend the birthday bash for Ruth,” he
said without glancing in their direction.
Savannah heard the reluctance in his voice and realized the decision hadn’t been an easy one.
“With Caroline?” she asked, trying not to sound eager.
He hesitated before answering. “I thought about asking her, then decided against it.”
Savannah knew that if he let himself Grady would enjoy Caroline’s company. Unfortunately he bungled all her efforts at playing matchmaker. What she’d hoped was that he’d become comfortable enough with Caroline at the birthday party to invite her to the Cattlemen’s Association dance later in the month. The dance marked the beginning of summer and was the most anticipated event of the year.
“Why don’t you ask Caroline?” She was losing patience with him.
“Because I didn’t think she’d want to after the way… Hell, you should know the answer to that. I made a fool of myself.”
“Caroline was more amused than angry,” Savannah assured her brother.
“Yeah, well, that’s not how I saw it. I thought I’d invite someone else.”
“Like who?”
“I don’t know…”
“How about the new doctor?” Savannah suggested. Dr. Jane Dickinson had replaced Doc Cummings at the Health Clinic when he retired. She’d read in the local newspaper that Dr. Dickinson had agreed to stay on for three years as a means of repaying her medical-school loans. If Grady wasn’t going to ask Caroline, then this new doctor was a good choice.
“No, thanks.”
“What’s wrong with her?”
“Nothing…everything.” Grady didn’t elaborate.
The problem with her brother, Savannah realized, was a complete lack of confidence in himself when it came to women. Grady failed to recognize his own masculine appeal. His considerable appeal. She suspected that Richard’s presence made it worse. Richard was handsome and sociable, a smooth talker who had no difficulty attracting female companionship. Grady, on the other hand, was awkward around women and constantly seemed to say the wrong thing.
Savannah edged closer to her husband. “Um, Grady, I don’t think it’s a good idea to wait until the last minute.”
“You don’t?”
Both Savannah and Laredo shook their heads.
Grady rubbed the back of his neck. “The hell with it,” he muttered. “Nell didn’t say anything about bringing a date. If Cal shows up you can bet he’ll be without a woman. Nothing says I need one, either.”
Savannah resisted the urge to box his ears. “Do you intend to live the rest of your life alone, Grady?”
Her brother didn’t answer her for a moment. “I don’t know anymore. It just seems to be the way things are headed.” With that, he went back inside.
“I almost feel sorry for him,” Laredo said.
“It’s his own fault,” Savannah didn’t mean to sound unkind, but her brother was too stubborn for his own good. “If he’d open his eyes, he’d realize Caroline’s perfect for him.”
“You can’t push him into a relationship with your friend, love.”
Savannah realized that. “But…”
“It’ll happen for Grady when the time is right.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“It did with us.”
Sighing, Savannah dropped her head against his shoulder once again. This was her favorite time of day, sitting in the moonlight with Laredo, feeling his love enclose her.
They kissed then, and the sweetness of it was enough to bring tears to Savannah’s eyes. She savored the contentment of being in his arms, wishing everyone could experience this kind of love. Grady and the embittered Cal Patterson and Caroline and…
“Ellie Frasier needs someone, too,” she said wistfully.
“Are you the resident matchmaker now?” Laredo teased.
“Yes—even if it is self-appointed.” She nudged him with her elbow. “Now—a man for Ellie.”
“Not Richard.”
“Not Richard,” Savannah agreed. “Glen Patterson.”
Laredo laughed lightly. “You’re way off base with that one, Savannah. I can’t see it. They make much better friends than they ever would lovers.”
The evening was much too fine to argue. She didn’t need Laredo to agree with her to know she was right.
CHAPTER 3
NELL BISHOP FLIPPED THE BRAID off her shoulder and surveyed the yard. Everything was ready for Ruth’s surprise party. The Moorhouse sisters, both retired schoolteachers, were keeping her mother-in-law occupied in town. Knowing Edwina and Lily, they’d take their assignment seriously. The last Nell heard, they’d planned a visit to the library, followed by a little birthday celebration at Dovie Boyd’s antique shop. Dovie had recently added the Victorian Tea Room, and each afternoon at three, she served tea and scones. Sometimes she added cucumber sandwiches and a small glass—or two—of the Moorhouse sisters’ special cordial, which she made from a recipe handed down by their maternal grandfather.
Nell gathered that the sandwiches tended to be dry but the cordial was well worth the price of admission. The Moorhouse sisters would bring her back at the start of the festivities. All three would probably be a little tipsy and in a fine party mood.
It was time the Bishop family did a bit of celebrating. Jake wouldn’t have wanted them to spend the rest of their lives grieving. Things had been difficult for Nell since her husband’s death, but with Ruth’s help she’d managed to hold on to the ranch.
“Mom, where do you want me to put the potato chips?” Jeremy called from the back porch steps. Her eleven-year-old son stood with a huge bowl in his hands, awaiting her instructions.
“Set it on the first picnic table,” she answered, pointing at the line of five covered tables that stretched across the freshly groomed yard. She’d spent half the day spiffing up the flower beds and mowing the grass and the other half cooking. Fried chicken, her special recipe for chili, a smorgasbord of salads, plus a huge homemade birthday cake.
Jeremy carried the bowl to the table, then promptly helped himself to a handful. Nell bit her tongue to keep from admonishing him not to spoil his dinner. This was a celebration and she wasn’t going to ruin it by scolding her children. Both Jeremy and nine-year-old Emma had been helpful and cooperative, as excited about the party as she was herself.
Jeremy’s hand stopped midway to his mouth and he cast a guilty look at his mother.
“All I ask is that you save some for the guests.”
He nodded, smiling hugely. “We got plenty.”
How like Jake her son was. She couldn’t look at him and not be reminded of the only man she’d ever loved. They’d grown up together, she and Jake, and Nell knew from the time she’d first started thinking about boys that one day she’d marry Jake Bishop. It had taken him several years to reach the same conclusion, but men were often slower when it came to figuring out these things.
Both Nell and Jake were tall and big-boned. Nell was nearly six feet by the time she stopped growing. She had the kind of looks that were usually described as handsome, not pretty. And certainly not cute. The only man she’d ever known who hadn’t been intimidated by her size—or treated her like one of the boys—had been Jake, and that was because he was six feet four inches himself.
Jake had taught her the wonders of being feminine. They’d had almost ten years together, and she’d treasured every one of them. Some folks expected her to remarry, but she’d yet to meet the man who could match the husband she’d lost. Nell wasn’t willing to accept second best, not after loving Jake.
For the first year after Jake’s death in a tractor accident she’d felt cheated and angry. It had taken her another year to accept his death and to reshape her life now that her husband was gone. With his mother’s love and support she’d been able to keep the ranch, raise her kids, plan for the future.
She was a good cook, an able manager, and thanks to Jake, knew a great deal about ranching. More than she’d ever wanted to learn, in fact. The time had come to put all that knowledge to go
od use.
The party was to serve a dual purpose. To celebrate Ruth’s birthday of course. And also to announce that she was opening her doors and turning Twin Canyon into a dude ranch. By the end of next year she hoped to be giving a group of greenhorns a taste of the real Texas.
Her research had shown that the cowboy era was alive and well in the minds of adventurous Americans. The travel agents she’d spoken with had assured her they could fill the bunkhouse with tourists eager to spend their vacation dollars learning about life in the Old West.
And Nell was just the one to teach them. She’d feed them her chili, get them on the back of a horse and demonstrate how to herd a few head of cattle. Take them on a trail drive—like in the movie City Slickers. And after all that, she’d gladly accept their credit cards.
“Mom!” Emma called, her freckled face smeared with frosting from the birthday cake. “Should I put the candles in now?”
“Not yet.”
“Hey!” Jeremy hollered. “I was supposed to lick the beaters!” He grabbed a fresh supply of potato chips, apparently to compensate for the frosting he’d missed.
“Wash your face,” Nell instructed her daughter. “I need your help out here.”
“Yeah,” Jeremy said with an air of superiority. “Help Mom.”
“I am,” Emma insisted. “I tasted the frosting to make sure it was good.”
Despite herself, Nell laughed. “Come on, you two. The party’s going to start soon and I want all the food on the tables, ready for the buffet.” She headed for the house to collect paper plates and napkins.
“Will Grandma be surprised?” Emma asked.
Nell knew how hard it had been for her daughter to keep the birthday party a secret. “Very,” she promised. “And Grandma’s going to have a wonderful time. We all are.”
She was sure of it.
THE BIRTHDAY PARTY WAS ALREADY in full swing when Ellie and Richard arrived. People clustered about the yard, talking in small groups. There was an air of joy and festivity that Ellie found infectious. Party sounds—laughter, animated conversation and music—were everywhere. Ellie began to hope she might actually enjoy herself the way she used to.