Read Heart of Texas Volume One Online

Authors: Debbie Macomber

Heart of Texas Volume One (26 page)

They both knew Cal was about as much fun as a rampaging bull these days.

“Come on,” he urged with real tenderness. “Let it all out.”

She swallowed a sob. It would have been better, she thought now, if he hadn't stayed, after all. But it felt good to lean on someone. So good. Ellie feared that once she lowered her guard and gave way to her emotions, it would be like a river overflowing its banks. All semblance of control would vanish. As close a friend as Glen was, she preferred to shed her tears alone.

“Relax,” he instructed, sounding like the older brother she'd never had. He squeezed her shoulder and rested his chin against her hair. “It's okay to cry. You have the right.”

“I couldn't make myself believe it,” she sobbed into his chest. The doctors had explained soon after he was diagnosed that his condition was terminal. No hope.

“Believe what?” Glen asked softly.

“That he was dying. I should have been prepared for it, but I wasn't.”

“He was your father, Ellie. How could you prepare to lose your father? How could anyone?”

“I—I don't know.” Her whole body shook; she couldn't control the tremors.

“Quit being so hard on yourself, okay?”

“I wanted to celebrate his life,” she added. “Not…not act like this.” She felt as though she were walking around with a giant hole inside her. Grief overwhelmed her. She missed him in a thousand different ways. Every minute, every hour, she found reasons to think of him. Everything she said and did reminded her of how close they'd always been. She couldn't walk into the store without confronting evidence of him—his work, his personality, his plans for the future. If that wasn't bad enough, every time she looked in the mirror it was his deep blue eyes that stared back.

“You
are
celebrating his life,” Glen murmured, and his lips brushed the top of her head.

“I am?” Easing herself from his embrace, she raised her face to look up at him.

“You were the apple of your father's eye,” Glen reminded her. “He couldn't keep the buttons of his shirt fastened, he was so proud of you.”

While Ellie knew that was true, it felt good to hear Glen say it. “He was a wonderful father.” She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling.

“The best.” Glen gazed down at her and with his thumb caught a tear as it rolled from her bottom lashes and onto her cheek.

He paused with his finger halfway across her face and when her vision cleared, Ellie noted Glen's look of surprise. Their eyes met, widened. They couldn't seem to stop gazing at each other's faces. Ellie suddenly felt herself frowning, but before she had a chance to analyze what was happening, she realized something else.

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.

 

“S
HAKY

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.

 

T
HE 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.

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