At Bluebonnet Lake (Texas Crossroads Book #1): A Novel (6 page)

She would. It was only Kate who’d feel guilty. “You’re right. Sally likes to rest in the afternoon. She won’t even know that
I’m gone.” The more she thought about it, the better Kate liked the idea. “Let’s say 1:30.”

“You’ve got a date.”

But it wasn’t. It was two people helping each other get a little exercise. Nothing more.

K
ate grinned at the sound of Sally singing in the shower about beautiful mornings. Rodgers and Hammerstein, of course. There wasn’t a single one of their songs that her grandmother couldn’t sing, albeit a bit off-key. Sally might be a world-class Clue player and the best grandmother any girl could have, but her voice would never compare to Carmen’s. While Carmen warbled, Sally croaked.

Kate’s grin widened at the image of her grandmother as a frog. Knowing Sally, she’d laugh at the thought and then belt out another verse of “Some Enchanted Evening,” insisting that Kermit the Frog would appreciate her voice even if Kate didn’t. And if she knew that Carmen sang while she worked, Sally would probably want to join her.

Kate’s grin turned to a chuckle as she slathered sunblock on her face and hands. Though the sun had barely risen, she knew that by the time she and Sally finished breakfast and started their walk, she’d need the protection.

Even if it meant she might have to listen to more off-key singing, Kate would introduce Sally to Carmen. She knew her grandmother had been looking forward to meeting friendly
guests, and neither of the couples at their table had qualified. Carmen might not be a guest, but she would be someone for Sally to talk to other than Kate. And Roy. Kate couldn’t forget Roy.

Sally had certainly seemed to enjoy her conversation with him at supper. When they’d returned to the cabin last night, she had spoken of little besides Roy and how charming he’d been. Later, when Kate had brought two glasses of milk and a plate of chocolate chip cookies for what Carmen had called the essential bedtime snack, Sally had continued to speak of Roy.

He’d obviously captivated her grandmother, and while Kate wasn’t sure how she felt about that, there was no ignoring the way Sally’s face glowed. It might be an exaggeration to say there’d been a bounce in her step, but Sally had certainly seemed perkier and happier than Kate had seen her in a long time. If Roy could do that, who was Kate to worry? It wasn’t as if they’d see each other again once April ended.

“Your turn.” Sally emerged from the shower, toweling her hair as she stood in the doorway to Kate’s room.

“I’m done.” Kate had wakened early, taken a quick shower, then grabbed her laptop and rushed to the lodge to check her messages. There’d been none, nor had there been any sign of Greg. Though she’d felt a mild sense of disappointment at the latter, Kate told herself it was just as well. If he’d seen her with her laptop, Greg would probably have chided her and called her a workaholic. That wouldn’t have been a great way to start the day, and yet she wondered what he was doing. Perhaps he’d be at breakfast when she was there. Silly Kate! Next thing you knew, she’d be like Sally, constantly talking about a man.

Kate looked at her watch. “We can go to breakfast whenever you’re ready. They’re already serving.”

“Wear your walking shoes,” Sally called from her room. “I
want to explore the area after we eat.” Kate decided not to mention that Sally had told her that three times last night. It had been one of the few non-Roy-related subjects of the evening.

“I already have them on.”

“Good.” For a few minutes, the only sound from Sally’s room was the whir of the hair dryer. When she came out, she struck a pose worthy of a runway model. “What do you think?” she asked, gesturing to her outfit.

Kate stared. Sally was wearing a pair of jeans and a Western shirt, complete with pearl snaps. To complete the outfit, she dangled a cowboy hat from her fingers.

“Wow!” It wasn’t the most eloquent response, but Kate could find nothing else to say. The woman with her hand on her hip had her grandmother’s face, but those were definitely not her grandmother’s clothes. “I didn’t know you owned jeans.”

Sally shrugged as if the habits of a lifetime were easily sloughed off. “Larry didn’t like them, so I never bought any, but Larry’s no longer here to complain.” She shrugged again. “Besides, I always wondered how I’d look in jeans.” She paused, and Kate sensed her uncertainty. “So, how do I look? The salesclerk said they were fine, but I could tell that she had her mind on making a sale.”

“You look great, Sally.” It wasn’t flattery, either. The jeans and shirt were surprisingly slimming, camouflaging the extra pounds that Sally’s doctor had urged her to shed, but the most dramatic difference was in her attitude. It seemed as if Sally had donned a new persona along with her new clothes. Kate looked down at her grandmother’s feet, shod in sensible walking shoes. “All you need are some cowboy boots, and you’ll be ready for the rodeo.”

Though she’d been joking, Sally nodded. “I figured we could buy ourselves some here.”

“We?” The boots Kate wore were fashion statements from
exclusive Italian designers, not styles sturdy enough to be worn on a ranch.

“Sure.” Sally slung her bag over her shoulder and opened the front door, refusing Kate’s help in navigating the steps. “Remember how we had mother-daughter clothes when you were in grade school? We can do that again. Mother-daughter boots.”

The smile on Sally’s face was all the encouragement Kate needed. She’d gladly squeeze her feet into what was bound to be uncomfortable footwear if it made her grandmother happy. “Of course we can. The problem will be finding a store.”

“It won’t be a problem. Roy said there’s a boot maker in Dupree. We can go there tomorrow.” Roy again. It appeared he and Sally had discussed more than the loneliness of widowhood and the beauty of the Hill Country.

Though Kate didn’t hold out much hope for finding high-quality boots in a town as small as Dupree, she wouldn’t disappoint Sally. Besides, it wouldn’t matter if the boots were poorly made. They only needed to last a month. “Whatever you want. This trip is for you.”

It took less time to reach the dining room than it had the night before, perhaps because Sally was more rested, perhaps because she was energized by her new outfit and the prospect of owning her first pair of cowboy boots. Whatever the reason, Kate wasn’t complaining. It was good to see her grandmother obviously enjoying herself. On a morning like this, it was difficult to believe that Sally’s heart wasn’t as strong as Kate’s.

The dining room was empty when they arrived, and Kate felt a twinge of regret that Greg wasn’t there, but the delicious aromas of breakfast foods tantalized her. She walked toward the buffet, where an array of chafing dishes kept the food warm, and was about to lift one lid when Carmen entered the room.

“Good morning, ladies,” she said in her lilting voice. “Just help yourself. There’s a bell on the end of the buffet if you need anything else.”

Kate turned toward her grandmother. “Sally, I’d like you to meet Carmen St. George. She’s the woman who gave us last night’s incredible meal.” As Carmen smiled with pleasure, Kate continued, “Carmen, this is my grandmother, Sally Fuller.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine,” Sally said as she shook Carmen’s hand. “I’ve eaten a lot of meatballs in my seventy-three years, but I’ve never had any that compare to yours. Would you consider sharing your recipe?”

Carmen nodded. “Anytime. Just stop in the kitchen, and I’ll write it out.”

“Is there anything else I can get you?” Carmen asked when Sally had murmured her thanks.

Sally opened the chafing dishes, revealing pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, and oatmeal, and sniffed appreciatively. “If I eat all this, I won’t need that box lunch I ordered.”

“Some folks skip lunch.” Carmen patted her ample hips. “I’m obviously not one of them.”

Giving her a conspiratorial smile as she looked at her own hips, Sally nodded. “Me either.”

“Enjoy your meal.”

As Carmen started to leave, Kate touched her hand. “Sally’s already told you how much we enjoyed the meatballs. I wanted to say that your cannoli is the best I’ve ever eaten.”

Her smile reflecting her pleasure at the compliment, Carmen nodded. “Thank you, but wait until you taste the peach cobbler.”

“It can’t be better.”

Carmen raised an eyebrow. “Don’t bet on that. There’s nothing like Hill Country peaches.”

“The state of Georgia might disagree.” Sally’s smile was wry.
“They’re mighty proud of their peaches—even put them on their license plates.”

Carmen refused to be cowed. “It’s all a matter of opinion. You can decide after dinner tonight.”

When Carmen left, Kate and Sally filled their plates and carried them to the table, where insulated carafes of coffee and hot tea waited for them. After she blessed their food, Sally took a bite of pancake, then a sampling of the eggs. It was only when she’d tasted the bacon that she looked up at Kate, satisfaction on her face.

“The food is much better than it was fifty years ago. The Sinclairs are lucky to have Carmen cooking for them.”

They were indeed. Though Sally hadn’t voiced the thought, Kate suspected that Carmen’s meals were the only thing that had improved. The mattress had been surprisingly comfortable, but the sheets had worn spots and the towels were mismatched.

“The food may not be enough to save Rainbow’s End.” Her scrambled eggs were light and fluffy, and the oatmeal had a hint of spice—not cloves, Kate was willing to bet. If Rainbow’s End were simply a restaurant, boosting business would be less of a challenge, but to be a successful resort, it needed an almost overwhelming amount of work.

Sally pursed her lips. “Please, Kate. No gloom and doom while I’m eating. Let’s talk about something more pleasant, like Greg Vange.”

“Vange.” Kate swirled the name on her tongue as she had the cream filling from last night’s cannoli. “So that’s his last name.” It suited him, a unique name for a decidedly out-of-the-ordinary man.

“Roy told me. He said he’s a very nice young man.” Sally looked up from the toast she was buttering and added, “Single too.”

This was vintage Sally. “Please, no matchmaking. You know
that doesn’t work out for me.” Though her grandmother had supported her move to New Jersey after graduation, acknowledging that Manhattan was the best place for Kate to start her career, she had never given up hope that Kate would move back to Buffalo and live near her. As an inducement, Sally had introduced Kate to a seemingly endless stream of supposedly eligible men until Kate had threatened to stop her monthly visits.

Sally shook her head. “Just because two men got cold feet doesn’t mean everyone will. The right man is waiting for you.” She gave Kate a long look. “I just hope I’m around for your wedding.”

“Now who’s talking gloom and doom?” Kate demanded. She took another spoonful of oatmeal, but it had somehow lost its savor. She didn’t need the reminder that she’d had two steady boyfriends, both of whom decided it was time to marry someone else, and she definitely didn’t need any reminders of Sally’s health and advancing years.

“It’s not gloom and doom,” Sally protested. “I was simply being realistic. I’ve been a member of AARP for years.” More vintage Sally.

Kate washed down the oatmeal with a swig of coffee. “It won’t work, you know. You convinced me to come here, but you can’t guilt me into marrying someone I don’t love just so you can see me settled.”

Sally took another bite of bacon, chewing slowly as she formulated her response. When she spoke, the words were so familiar that Kate could almost recite them. “God has a plan—and a man—for you. You just need to listen when he whispers to you.”

“The bacon is delicious, isn’t it? And Carmen added something special to the oatmeal.”

Shaking her head, Sally gave Kate a stern look. “That wasn’t even subtle.”

“But it worked. We’re not talking about prospective husbands anymore.”

And they did not. Instead, Sally speculated on the types of boots that would be available in Dupree and how long they would have to wait if they wanted them custom-made. When they finished eating, she announced that she wanted to walk along the lake and gestured toward the right when they left the dining room. “We’ll end up back here,” she told Kate.

The grass, which had been wet with dew when they’d walked to breakfast, had dried, and as they left the shadow of the oak trees to approach the lake, Kate found herself wishing she had worn short sleeves. The air was much warmer than it had been less than an hour ago, making her wonder just how high the mercury would rise today.

“Look over there,” Sally said when they reached the edge of the water. To Kate’s relief, Sally showed no signs of either fatigue or breathlessness. Yesterday’s episode must have been the result of travel.

Sally pointed to a small land mass to the northwest of the resort.

“An island?”

Sally nodded, her eyes glistening. “It’s called Paintbrush Island, and it belongs to Rainbow’s End, or at least it did. Larry and I took a rowboat there one day.” She swallowed deeply, and Kate knew she was lost in memories. “It was the most romantic picnic of my life,” Sally said softly. “A day I’ll never forget.”

Though Kate knew her grandparents had shared a deep and abiding love, it was unusual for Sally to be so emotional. “Do you want me to see if they still have boats? We could have lunch there today.”

“Oh no, Kate. The island is not a place for two women. It’s for couples.” She shaded her eyes with one hand as she gazed
at the site of her memories. “Legend has it that the island is the real rainbow’s end.”

“In the western sky? That’s not very likely unless there were thunderstorms in the morning. Rainbows only occur when the sun is low enough, and they’re most frequently seen in the east.” The words were out before Kate realized that they might distress her grandmother. To her relief, Sally laughed.

“No one would ever accuse you of having your head in the clouds. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you didn’t have a romantic bone in your body.”

That was what Pete and Lou had said when they’d broken off their relationships with her. “Maybe I don’t.”

Sally shook her head and started walking again. “I don’t believe that. You just try to hide it.”

They wandered slowly along the lakeshore, admiring the calm water, casting occasional glances at the cabins, most of which were unoccupied. Though Kate had wakened this morning hopeful that she’d been mistaken about the resort’s condition and that the situation wasn’t as dire as she’d thought the previous day, there was no denying that Rainbow’s End needed a massive infusion of cash if it was going to attract enough guests to be profitable.