Read At Bluebonnet Lake (Texas Crossroads Book #1): A Novel Online

Authors: Amanda Cabot

Tags: #FIC042040, #FIC027020

At Bluebonnet Lake (Texas Crossroads Book #1): A Novel (12 page)

Roy stared at the lake for a few seconds, making Sally wonder if he was picturing himself and his sons in a fishing boat. “It’s great to see them happy and settled. I only wish they were closer.” His eyes darkened. “The truth is, I can’t blame them for not staying here. There’s no future in Dupree.”

The number of vacant storefronts Sally had seen in downtown Dupree this morning seemed to confirm that. Though
she hadn’t said anything to Kate, Sally had found it alarming and wondered how much longer Samantha and Lauren would be able to stay open. “Have you considered moving closer to your sons?”

Roy studied the board for a moment before moving a rook. “They’re all spread out. Birmingham, Poughkeepsie, Spokane. I won’t play favorites and move near one of them.”

That had to be difficult. It was no wonder Roy came to Rainbow’s End for dinner. Even though there were few guests, the combination of superb food and some companionship must be a powerful lure. “I’m fortunate that Kate’s only an hour’s flight away and that I see her at least once a month,” Sally told Roy.

“But you still worry about her.”

“I do. I wish she were settled like your boys. I worry about what she’ll do when I’m no longer here.” Though she hadn’t thought that either Pete or Lou was the right man for her granddaughter, Sally hadn’t given up hope that Kate would find the perfect husband or at least a close friend. Kate might think she was self-sufficient, but everyone needed emotional support occasionally.

“The worries don’t stop when they marry. You just develop different ones,” Roy said, his eyes once more meeting hers. “The funny thing is, at the same time that I’m worrying about them, I know the boys are worried about me. They want me to move to an old folks’ home.” Roy’s laugh was strained. “Can you imagine that?”

Sally could. Though Kate hadn’t said anything, the majority of Sally’s friends had either downsized their homes or moved to a senior community. “Why do they think you should move?”

“They’re convinced I’m lonely.”

Sally gave up plotting her next move. This was more important. “Are you?”

“Sometimes.”

“Me too.” More often than she wanted to admit.

Roy grinned. “Let’s see if we can work on that.”

Greg opened the door to his cabin and tossed his gym bag on the floor, giving it a kick for good measure. It didn’t ease his frustration any more than blaming Kate did. There was no point in being annoyed at her. Her questions hadn’t been intrusive, and it certainly wasn’t her fault that their discussion of college had revived memories he’d tried to relegate to the back of his mind. The argument he and his father had had over Stanford hadn’t been their first, and it wasn’t their last, yet it was the one that was the most deeply etched in his memory.

“You think you’re better than everyone in Orchard Slope, don’t you?” Dad had demanded, his face flushed with anger. “You think that by being the first to go to some fancy school that costs more than most folks make in a year, you’ll be accepted. You’re wrong. Everyone knows what you are. That’ll never change.”

He’d clenched his fists, pounding one on the table that separated him from Greg. “If you think I’m going to take out a second mortgage to pay for it, you’re wrong about that too. If you want to go to Stanford”—he spat the name as if it were an epithet—“you’re on your own. I won’t give you a dime.”

And he hadn’t. Freshman year had been rougher than Greg had expected, mostly because he’d been working thirty to forty hours a week in addition to taking a punishing course load, but by his sophomore year, he’d grown accustomed to the schedule. Junior year, when he’d landed a job with a software firm that paid enough that he could work fewer hours, had been even easier.

The relatively light schedule had proven to be a godsend, because it had given Greg the time to think about other things, including his mother’s complaints about the incompatible sys
tems and paperwork problems at Orchard Slope’s cannery. Her comments had triggered ideas, one leading to another. The end result was Sys=Simpl, the software product that had transformed Orchard Slope’s nerdy misfit into a billionaire.

It had all ended well. There was no reason to dwell on a conversation that had taken place fifteen years earlier, and yet Greg could not dismiss the memory. Drew would have said it was because Greg had unfinished business with his father. Though Greg didn’t always agree with Drew, he wondered if maybe—just maybe—Drew was right.

12

O
n Friday, Kate woke with a sense of anticipation. Today was the day she and Sally would pick up their boots, and—if she could find a way to distract her grandmother—the day that Kate would talk to Lauren about Sally’s Christmas pillow. Inspired by the beauty of Lauren’s designs, she had begun envisioning one that incorporated a cowboy boot, a rainbow, and a prickly pear. Though the elements might seem incongruous, Kate was certain that Lauren could find a way to turn them into a beautiful design.

Kate had practically jogged to the main lodge, smiling as she pictured Sally’s pleasure on Christmas morning. She wasn’t smiling now. She frowned as she opened her email and found an urgent message from Heather. It was the first time Heather had sent more than her daily “Are you ready to come back?” email. Today Kate’s boss had a question about the Sid’s Seafood campaign and was annoyed because she couldn’t find the files.

Though Kate was confident that she’d put all the links to her files into the firm’s database, there was nothing to be gained by suggesting that Heather wasn’t looking in the right place, not when Kate had copies of all her work on her laptop and could
send them to Heather. She attached the files to Heather’s email and clicked send. They’d be in New York in seconds. Or not. Kate frowned again as she realized how long it would take to transmit half a dozen large files at the snail’s pace of dial-up.

Realizing there was no point in being aggravated by something she couldn’t change, Kate rose and walked to the window. Other than the momentary aggravation of Heather’s brusquer than normal email, it was a beautiful morning. The sun was rising, gradually transforming the gray sky with fingers of pink and orange, while the lake cast off the shroud of darkness.

Though she’d spent most of her life near Lake Erie and never failed to be awed by the majesty of the Great Lakes, there was something almost hypnotizing about the calm of this small body of water. It had no waves. It was small enough that she could see the other shore, and yet Bluebonnet Lake seemed somehow mysterious, as if something unknown rested behind the tiny island. That was nothing more than fancy. The reality was, it was an ordinary lake in a part of Texas with more than its share of lovely lakes.

Kate stared at the water, surprised when she saw an object moving smoothly across its surface. At this time of the day with no wind, the lake should be perfectly calm. For a few seconds, she could not identify the object. Then as the sun rose, revealing additional details, she realized what she was seeing was a rowboat. Greg. He must have been on the lake before sunrise.

Kate smiled. Even though he’d claimed to have disappointed his father by not being athletic, judging from the ease of his strokes, it was clear that Greg had more than a passing acquaintance with oars. Perhaps his father believed the only sports that mattered were team sports like football, baseball, and basketball.

Reluctantly, Kate left the window to take a quick look at the email status bar and calculate how much longer the transmission would take. Knowing she had at least five more minutes,
she returned to the window and sank into one of the wicker chairs. Watching Greg was more entertaining than looking at the agonizingly slow progress of her email.

For what seemed like the hundredth time, Kate wondered exactly what he’d done in Silicon Valley. Most men were eager to talk about their careers, but Greg was reticent, almost secretive about his. There must be a reason. Perhaps he’d worked on some kind of high-security government contract. That would explain both his reluctance to share details as well as his ability to repay college loans in just a few years. Whatever he had done, Kate was glad he was here. Having Greg Vange at Rainbow’s End made her life much more interesting.

She hadn’t expected that. There were many things she hadn’t expected, including the way she felt this morning. Rested, happy, and surprisingly content. Perhaps that was the reason why, despite Heather’s email, her heart bubbled with pleasure at the sight of Greg in the rowboat. Perhaps that was why her mind was filled with images of the sun breaking through the clouds and coloring the sky. Kate closed her eyes for a second, savoring the rich aroma of coffee that had begun to filter into the room. Though it wasn’t a term she normally used, today she felt almost peaceful.

Smiling as the status bar reached 100 percent and disappeared, Kate logged off and unplugged her laptop. It was no wonder Sally had insisted they come here. For all its shortcomings, Rainbow’s End was a special place.

Ten more yards. He could make it. He knew he could. One foot in front of the other. That’s all it took. One more step. Five yards. Now there was no question. He’d get there. Of course he would. One more step. His breath coming in ragged pants, Greg forced himself to sprint the final distance. Only when he
reached the top of the small hill did he pause to pull his cell phone from his pocket.

Bouncing from one leg to the other to keep his muscles from tightening, he looked at the display. It was a good thing no one else was around to witness his daily battle with Ranger Hill. His father would scoff at the thought that Greg, the nerd who’d spent every spare minute studying computer code, the boy who’d been so inept on a football team that even the coach had admitted he was hopeless, was now rowing and jogging up a hill every day, not to mention playing tennis with a beautiful blonde.

Though he’d run for years, Greg had quickly discovered that jogging on flat pavement was far different from climbing Ranger Hill. There was nothing pleasant about feeling as if your lungs were about to explode while your calves were shrieking for mercy. But there was a silver lining to the dark cloud, a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Greg grimaced at the clichés. The simple fact was, the first day he’d forced himself to jog all the way to the top, his phone had begun to ring. It wasn’t a miracle, but the fact that he could get a signal here meant he didn’t have to drive all the way to Dupree to check messages, and that gave him another incentive to put on his running shoes each morning.

He scanned the list. Two texts from his sisters, thanking him for the money he’d transferred. The expressions of gratitude were a bit belated, but that wasn’t unusual. Three texts and two voice mails from Drew. The latter was unusual. Normally Drew preferred texting to actually speaking with Greg.

Greg played back the voice mails. “I’ve got to talk to you. It’s important.” Quintessential Drew. No greeting, no social niceties, just straight to the point. The second, delivered two hours after the first, repeated the message but with more emphasis. Greg could ignore them. He probably should ignore them. But if he did, he’d never know why Drew was so agitated. The man was normally unflappable.

Greg glanced at the phone’s clock, calculating the time difference. He might wake Drew if he called now, but it was either now or not at all, since he had no intention of using Rainbow’s End’s phone. Angela wouldn’t mind, but Greg would, because the caller ID would tell Drew exactly where he was.

Now or not at all? Now won.

“Hello?” Sleep muddled Drew’s voice.

“It’s Greg. I got your messages. What’s up?” Greg heard the sharp intake of breath and realized his former partner hadn’t expected him to call.

“Where are you? We need to talk.” All traces of sleep had vanished, replaced by an unmistakable urgency in Drew’s voice.

As he ran in place, determined to keep his muscles from tightening, Greg tried to imagine what was bothering Drew. “We can talk over the phone.”

“No. It needs to be face-to-face.”

Greg frowned. He’d heard that tone before, and he knew what it meant. Drew had something major in mind, and he wasn’t certain Greg would agree. “What’s going on? Did you and . . .” He paused, trying to recall the name of Drew’s latest girlfriend. “Whatever her name is set a date?”

“It was Shelley, and no, that’s over. I realized she’s not the one. This is more important.”

“More important than entering the state of wedded bliss?” Greg infused his voice with sarcasm. “I distinctly recall you telling me nothing was more important than finding the woman you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.”

Drew’s search for the perfect mate had resulted in a seemingly endless string of dates and three broken engagements. It had also convinced Greg that remaining a bachelor was not the worst thing that could happen. But that was before Kate Sherwood had arrived at Rainbow’s End. In less than seventy-two hours, she’d made him reconsider the whole idea of dating and marriage.

“This is more important,” Drew declared, his voice harsh with urgency. “Just tell me where you are, and I’ll catch the next flight.”

“Nope.” Greg looked down into Firefly Valley, his eyes resting on the rooftop of Rainbow’s End’s main lodge and the small lake. If there was one thing he knew, it was that this was not the place for Drew. Not only would he be out of his element here, but he’d destroy the fragile peace Greg had begun to wrap around himself.

“What do you mean, nope?”

“Exactly that. I’m not going to tell you where I am.” The point of coming here was to put his former life behind him and start over.

“You’re not really in South America, are you?”

Greg felt a prickle on the back of his neck. He hadn’t told Drew where he was going, simply that he needed to take some time off to think. The only people who thought he was in South America were his family, and that meant that Drew had contacted them. Whatever he wanted must indeed be important for him to have gone to such lengths. Though he’d given Drew his parents’ phone number as an emergency contact years ago, to Greg’s knowledge, Drew had never used it.

“What’s the matter?” Greg asked as lightly as he could. “Don’t you hear those pythons slithering through the trees?”

“I can’t say that I do. C’mon, man. Where are you?”

The hint of desperation in Drew’s voice touched a sympathetic chord deep inside Greg. “Why exactly do you think you need me?” He emphasized the word
think
.

“I’ll tell you when we meet.”

Back to square one. Greg shook his head. The thought of Drew Carroll at Rainbow’s End made his stomach clench. The thought of Drew between girlfriends was even worse. If Greg knew Drew—and he did—he’d latch onto Kate the minute he arrived. Greg couldn’t let that happen.

“It seems to me we’ve reached a stalemate. So long, Drew.” He ended the call and let Drew’s calls roll over to voice mail.

Greg was working. When they’d met for tennis, he’d told Kate that new guests were arriving tomorrow and that he’d found a few things in their cabins that needed to be fixed. Sally was still playing chess with Roy. That left Kate at loose ends.

She glanced at her watch as she pulled on a pair of shorts. She’d change again for dinner, but the afternoon was too hot for slacks. Kate considered her options. There wasn’t enough time to go into Dupree and talk to Lauren, then get back here in time to take Sally to Sam’s Bootery. Though she could ask Roy to drive Sally into town to meet her, that would involve explaining why she was going alone, and that was an explanation Kate didn’t want to offer. Instead, she’d stay here and find some way to while away the time.

She wouldn’t go to the main lodge. That would be too much like spying on Sally. As far as Kate knew, this was the first time her grandmother had shown interest in a man since Grandpa Larry’s death, and while she doubted it was anything more than a short-term friendship like her own relationship with Greg, Kate wanted her grandmother’s stay at Rainbow’s End to be as happy as possible. Chess and Roy appeared to make Sally happy, and so Kate would not interfere. In fact, if Sally’s health continued to improve, perhaps she’d suggest they come back next year. If Rainbow’s End was still in existence.

Unfortunately, Kate was not confident that would be the case. While she saw potential for the resort, she also knew that investors could find other places that would require less work and a lower capital expenditure with a higher probability of success. On the risk/reward chart, Rainbow’s End was heavily skewed toward risk.

Kate closed the cabin door behind her. There was no point
in dwelling on unhappy thoughts. She’d visit the kitchen, where Carmen could be depended on to put a positive spin on even a gloomy day. Besides, there was almost always something delicious that needed a taste test.

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