At Bluebonnet Lake (Texas Crossroads Book #1): A Novel (4 page)

“The limit of my optimism is that this modem still works. Angela dumped it in the storage room when her laptop died,”
Greg said, his voice so matter-of-fact that Kate knew he hadn’t read her thoughts. Good thing, because her mind had taken a wild tangent, and she’d pictured herself standing on top of a hill overlooking the oh so romantic Pacific Ocean with a handsome man gazing into her eyes just the way Rossano Brazzi had looked at Mitzi Gaynor. The problem was, that man looked disturbingly like Greg.

Yes, he was handsome. Yes, he was intelligent. Yes, she’d enjoyed joking with him. But despite all those positive attributes, Kate had no intention of getting involved in anything like a shipboard romance. This was her time with Sally. When it ended, she’d go back to her apartment in New Jersey and her job in Manhattan, while Greg would remain here.

“Your laptop.”

Kate blinked as she realized he was speaking to her. Hoping he hadn’t noticed her daydreaming, she reached into her bag and handed the laptop to him. Greg plugged the modem cable into the laptop, then, pulling a phone cord from his pocket with the flourish of a magician producing a white rabbit from his top hat, he grinned. “Let’s see if it’ll work.” He pointed to a phone jack on the wall. “As far as I know, this is the only one at Rainbow’s End other than the one in the office. There’s just the one line, so you’ll have to use it when Angela’s computer is off-line—normally before eight and after seven.”

“And on her date night.”

“So you heard about that. It’s supposed to be a closely guarded secret.”

“Someone forgot to tell Carmen.”

Greg frowned, and for a second Kate thought he had misunderstood her joking. Then she realized that he was frowning at her screen. He’d booted up the computer. “No password?” he asked, his expression stern.

“I didn’t think I needed one. The computer’s never out of my
sight.” That was an exaggeration, but only a slight one. The truth was, between her smartphone and the laptop, she was connected for just about all of her waking hours.

“Put a password on it,” Greg said in a tone that brooked no argument. “You never know what might happen.” Though he did not raise his voice, it rang with authority, seeming to corroborate Kate’s impression that whatever he’d done before he came to Rainbow’s End had been in a leadership role.

She nodded. It was good advice. “You sound as if you’ve had a lot of experience with computers.” And that not all of those experiences were good.

To Kate’s surprise, Greg appeared uncomfortable. It must be her imagination, because there was nothing exceptional about what she’d said. Most people would have taken it as a compliment.

“This is the twenty-first century,” he said, his voice cooler than it had been a minute ago. “Who hasn’t?” He busied himself keying information into the computer before looking up again. “All you need now is your credit card number. Then you’ll be set.”

When she’d entered the information and launched her email, Kate felt a rush of adrenaline. In seconds she’d have her messages.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” she said, extending her hand toward Greg while she waited for the first of her messages to download. There was no doubt about it. Dial-up was slow. “Are you sure I can’t pay you for your time?”

As he shook his head, a mischievous smile twisted his lips. “There is one thing you could do.”

Kate knew better than to agree without hearing the rest. “And that would be . . .”

“Work less.”

She matched his smile. “Now you sound like my grandmother.”
But he didn’t look like her. Or act like her. For that matter, Greg didn’t act like anyone she’d ever met. He could be gruff; he could be funny. He seemed equally at home repairing window screens and upgrading computers. He wasn’t the most handsome man Kate had ever met, and yet there was something about his face that was unforgettable. The truth was, Greg defied categorization. That must be the reason she found him so intriguing.

S
ally looked much better. Kate smiled as her grandmother stepped out of her bedroom. The nap had done wonders; Sally’s breathing was once more normal and she showed no sign of fatigue. Best of all, her smile left no doubt that she was excited about being here. Kate took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as she let the relief flow through her. Perhaps she was turning into a cockeyed optimist like her grandmother, but she was beginning to think it might not be so bad spending a month here.

Though the absence of alarming messages from the office had helped, the primary cause for her more positive outlook was Sally’s happiness. Kate couldn’t help but compare that to Carmen’s obvious sadness when she spoke of her daughter. It almost sounded as if they were estranged, and that was a pity. A huge pity. Parents and children should not be estranged.

Unbidden, Greg’s image popped into Kate’s mind, and she wondered about his family. Neither of them had had any reason to discuss parents or siblings while Greg had been working on her computer, but she hoped he came from a stable and happy home. A home with two loving parents. As much as she loved Sally, Kate would have given almost anything to have had her
parents with her while she was growing up. And if they were still alive, she knew she’d phone them every few days, just as she did Sally.

“I’m ready if you are.” Sally smoothed the side of one of the floral print skirts she favored. When she’d seen Kate in the same clothes she’d worn for traveling, Sally had claimed it was only polite to dress for dinner and had convinced Kate to put on a broomstick pleated skirt and matching silk blouse. Though she’d acquiesced to the change of clothes, Kate had drawn the line at the strappy high-heeled sandals she normally wore with the outfit, having no intention of twisting her ankle on Rainbow’s End’s rutted roads. Judging from what she’d seen, those sandals would get no use here.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?” Kate asked as she hooked her arm with Sally’s while they descended the front steps. True to her promise, Carmen must have enlisted KOB’s help, because a pair of once-white Adirondack chairs had appeared on the porch. Since it had happened while Kate was in the lodge, she didn’t know which teenager was responsible.

“Drive?” Sally flashed her a “you must be kidding” look. “And give up the moderate exercise that’s supposed to be so good for me? Never! Let’s go. I don’t want to be late.”

But, though Sally acted as if she were in a hurry, they walked far more slowly than Kate had when she’d gone to the office during Sally’s nap. This was a leisurely stroll with the emphasis on leisurely.

When they reached the spot where the road curved to the left, Sally pointed to a second path on the right. “That one will take us directly to the dining room. Besides, it’s prettier than the other one.”

She was right, for this road provided glimpses of the lake along with views of the backs of half a dozen cabins. As was true of the ones Kate had seen before, each appeared unique.
Whoever had built the resort had had a different vision than modern developers. The fact that the cabins were not cookie-cutter copies gave Rainbow’s End a charm that set it apart from the competition, and yet the brochure made no mention of that. If Kate had been designing the marketing strategy, she would . . . She shook herself mentally. This was supposed to be a vacation, not a search for new clients.

“Larry and I stayed in the first one,” Sally said, gesturing to the left as they approached the waterfront cabins. “We used to sit on the porch every evening and watch the sun set over the lake. It was so relaxing, not like some resorts that have activities planned every hour.”

“That hasn’t changed.” Kate tried not to let her cynicism show. Relaxation was good, but a whole month of it? “What did you do if it rained?”

Kate glanced at the sky, and as she did, she smiled. There was no doubt about it: the Texas sky was beautiful, the air clear and clean. For all its shortcomings, Rainbow’s End had a magnificent location.

Sally paused for a second, whether to catch her breath or simply think, Kate didn’t know. “Everyone gathered in the main lodge. We’d sit around and talk, maybe play Monopoly or Clue.”

“And you’re still playing that.” Kate had spent countless hours in her grandparents’ kitchen calling Colonel Mustard and the candlestick into the conservatory.

Her grandmother chuckled as a lizard scurried across the road. “We used to keep an eye out for armadillos too. I imagine all that seems pretty boring.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Recalling the three of them seated at the kitchen table, a board game and a bowl of popcorn between them, Kate smiled. “It seems to me you and Grandpa Larry got into some pretty heated arguments.”

“That was only when we played Scrabble.” A bittersweet
expression crossed Sally’s face. “The man insisted on inventing words. No matter how often I pulled out the dictionary and proved him wrong, he wouldn’t stop.”

“And you loved every minute of it.”

“I did.”

Within minutes, they’d arrived at the dining hall. From the outside, it appeared to be a simple frame structure, curiously devoid of windows on the first story. While the second floor had the normal complement of windows and boasted a deck overlooking the lake, the first floor was unusually plain. Kate had been inside several office buildings that had windows on only one side, but this was the first time she’d encountered a building without any on an entire floor.

She opened the door, ushering Sally inside, and looked around. Her grandmother needn’t have worried that they would be late, for there were no other guests in the room.

Like the main lodge, this room had a ceiling with dark wooden beams. The similarities stopped there. The lodge’s ceiling was vaulted, while this one was coffered, and while the lodge’s windows were its focal point, here the walls featured beautiful wood paneling. Correction. They featured what would be beautiful wood paneling if someone took the time to clean and polish it. As it was, darker squares where artwork must have once hung detracted from the ambience, making Kate feel as if she had entered a house whose owners had recently moved out, taking most of their possessions.

What was left were five round tables, each with a lazy Susan in the center and eight simple wooden chairs surrounding it. Only one was ready for guests, set with ironstone plates, commercial flatware, and heavy glasses. Two pitchers, one with ice water, the other filled with iced tea, were the sole items on the Susan.

Kate tried not to frown at the evidence that there were fewer guests here than she’d realized. With only a 20 percent occupancy
rate, it was no wonder that the Sinclairs had neglected some maintenance. The wonder was that they were surviving at all.

As Kate and Sally approached the table, a teenage girl emerged from the kitchen, the tray she carried and the white apron she wore over the resort’s apparent uniform of khaki pants and a navy polo shirt with a rainbow logo telling Kate she was part of the waitstaff. Since she obviously wasn’t Kevin, she must be either Olivia or Brandi.

“Good evening,” the teenager said as she started to unload salt and pepper shakers, a sugar bowl, and a butter dish from her tray. “I’m Olivia Hirsch. Welcome to Rainbow’s End.” A couple inches below average height, Olivia was an attractive girl with long brown hair caught into a ponytail, brown eyes, and a thin face.

Kate introduced herself and Sally. “Do we have you to thank for the porch chairs?” she asked.

Olivia nodded, seemingly surprised when Kate and Sally both thanked her and when Kate handed her a few folded bills. “Thanks,” Olivia said. “I can definitely use that.” Her eyes glowing with pleasure, she gestured toward the table. “You can sit anywhere you like. The others will be here soon.”

As if on cue, two couples came through the main door. One appeared to be in their early forties. The second was younger than Kate, and the way they looked at each other and had their arms wrapped around each other’s waists made her suspect they were honeymooners. Sally would be pleased by the evidence that Rainbow’s End still appealed to newlyweds.

The older woman, a tall blonde, smiled at Kate and Sally as she approached the table. “I’m glad to see we’ll have a full table tonight. We’re Janet and Bob Schwartz from Tampa.”

The younger man gave his bride another smile. “And we’re Jared and Alexa Tibbits, but we didn’t come as far as the Schwartzes. We’re from El Paso.”

The foursome’s casual attire told Kate there had been no reason to change clothes other than to please Sally. The other guests’ jeans and Western shirts would have qualified them to serve as extras in a rodeo movie.

Kate introduced herself and Sally, explaining that they were from New Jersey and Buffalo respectively.

“I always wanted to see the Hill Country,” Alexa announced to no one in particular. Like her husband, she was of medium height and had dark brown hair and eyes. When she looked at Jared, those eyes radiated happiness, but right now they were somber, as if what she had seen disappointed her. Kate could identify with her. If she had had to choose one adjective to describe Rainbow’s End, it would be disappointing. Only Sally seemed oblivious to the resort’s shortcomings.

Her smile warm and welcoming, Sally took Alexa’s comment as an invitation to respond. “The Hill Country is beautiful, isn’t it?”

“I guess.” The bride’s voice held doubt rather than enthusiasm. She glanced around the room before focusing on the table she and her groom would share with six others. “This isn’t what we expected.”

Kate nodded in sympathy. Despite Sally’s claims to the contrary, Rainbow’s End did not seem to be a haven for honeymooners. Most newlyweds preferred private tables, and they probably sought more amenities than the resort appeared to provide.

“Here come the rest.” Jared gave his bride a quick squeeze as he gestured toward the door.

A gray-haired man entered the room, followed by a tall, dark-haired one.

Greg? Kate blinked as the man she had thought part of the staff walked toward the table. Something was wrong, and she had the sinking feeling it was her assumption.

She narrowed her eyes, searching for clues. Greg had changed
into casual brown slacks and a green polo almost the same shade as his eyes. A polo. Of course. That was the clue she’d missed. She should have realized Greg wasn’t an employee when he wasn’t wearing a Rainbow’s End shirt. And yet, if he wasn’t an employee, what had he been doing repairing her window screen, and why did he have keys to the supply room?

To clear her thoughts, Kate took a deep breath and focused on the man at Greg’s side. Shorter than average with gray hair and wire-rimmed glasses that were years out of style, he appeared to be Sally’s age. His deeply tanned and leathered skin made Kate suspect he’d spent a lot of time outdoors without the benefit of sunblock, while his broad grin when he looked at Sally left no doubt that he was pleased by the presence of another senior.

And then there was Greg. Kate wondered if he was enjoying her uneasiness. That didn’t seem in character with the man who’d joked with her as he’d connected the modem, but at this point, Kate wasn’t sure who Greg was. It was the first time she’d met a guest who doubled as a handyman.

When the two men reached the group, Greg directed his smile at Kate and Sally. It was a warm, easy smile, designed to put others at ease. It almost worked.

“Hello, again.” He turned to the man at his side. “I had the pleasure of meeting these ladies this afternoon.” Returning his gaze to Kate and Sally, Greg said, “It looks like everyone’s getting acquainted, so let me finish the introductions. You already know I’m Greg. This is Roy Gordon.”

And I’m embarrassed
. Kate tried to recall everything she’d said to Greg. Had she sounded condescending, especially when he’d been working on the cabin? She hoped not. The man had been nothing but helpful, and she owed him an apology.

“We might as well sit down.” That came from Bob Schwartz, who held out a chair for his wife. The honeymooners settled next to Janet Schwartz, leaving four chairs. Though Kate had
expected Greg and Roy to sit together, they each pulled out one of the middle chairs, helping Kate and Sally into them, then took the remaining seats, with Greg on Kate’s left and Roy on Sally’s right.

It was time for an apology. Kate turned to speak to Greg but found him apparently engrossed in studying the far wall.

“Where are you from, Roy?” Sally asked as she settled into her chair.

“Dupree.”

“Dupree as in three-miles-away Dupree?” Kate heard the mild surprise in her grandmother’s voice.

“That’s the one.” The distinct Texas drawl left no doubt that he was telling the truth. “I don’t stay over at Rainbow’s End. I just take dinner here.”

Before Roy could continue his explanation, Olivia arrived with a large tray. After placing half a dozen covered dishes on the Susan, she smiled at the guests. “One more trip, and then you’ll be ready to eat.”

“You can see that meals are family style,” Roy said as Sally unrolled her napkin and placed it on her lap. Though Kate had expected several individual conversations to occur, it seemed that everyone was deferring to Roy, at least for now. “The Susans eliminate the need to pass food around.”

“I remember.”

“You’ve been here before?” Roy sounded surprised by Sally’s response.

She nodded. “My husband and I came here the first year we were married. We weren’t on our honeymoon like you two,” she said with a smile for Alexa and Jared, “but we were still newlyweds.”

“And you came back?” Jared’s voice held more than a note of astonishment. It was clear that he was no more thrilled with Rainbow’s End than his bride.

Kate saw Sally’s back straighten. “Yes,” she said firmly. “Larry and I planned to return, but it seemed there was always something else to do.”

Like raising their granddaughter. It wasn’t the first time Kate had realized how much her grandparents had sacrificed for her. Though they were not wealthy, they’d given generously of what they had, and—more importantly—they’d lavished her with love and attention. Not once had they taken a vacation without her. “There’ll be time for that when Kate’s out of college,” Grandpa Larry had told friends. But there hadn’t been time. Her grandfather had died the summer before Kate entered college.