Lone Star Rancher (12 page)

“Right.” He removed eggs, butter and milk from the fridge and prepared the meal, making enough for both of them. When the eggs and toast were ready, he divided the food between two plates and carried them to the dining table. “Bring us some milk,” he said in casual tones.

She brought in two glasses of milk, then sat at her usual place to his right.

“Miles was right. You're quiet this morning.” He inhaled deeply, released it. “I'm sorry about last night. I was taken by surprise. The situation raised old issues in my mind, and
I reacted without thinking. Miles says you're a square dealer. I think that, too.”

Jessica was taken aback. She hadn't expected the apology. In fact, she'd thought he would be relieved to deliver her to her parents.

“I think you should stay here until we know where we stand,” he continued.

“Until we know if I'm pregnant.”

He nodded. “We can work it out from there. We can drive up to San Antonio on Monday and get a license. Just in case,” he added in practical tones.

She knew the offer was due to his caring nature, which he tried to keep hidden, and she felt herself going all soft and feminine inside. She steeled herself against him. She didn't want duty. She wanted bliss and happiness and love.

“We'll wait,” she said firmly. “As someone once said—don't count your chickens before they're hatched. We're not even sure we're incubating yet.”

He shot her a somewhat irritated glance. “You don't seem worried about it.”

“I'm lucky. I have enough money to make it on my own. A lot of women don't. They stay in a bad situation because they don't have the financial resources to get out.”

He touched Jessica's cheek, liking the smoothness of her skin and the warmth of her. “Would it be such a terrible situation? I thought we worked well together…in many ways.” He grinned as she shook her head.

“Men,” she said, but with wry amusement in the smile that teased her lips. Rising, she carried her dishes to the kitchen and put them in the dishwasher.

Clyde relaxed and sipped the coffee, which was better than his usual brew. He realized he did feel sort of…well, noble and all that.

 

At eight that evening, Clyde was still in the office, trying to catch up on paperwork. He had to verify to the state that the egg operation was in compliance with environmental laws on manure disposal.

No problem there. When they'd started the business, Steven had researched the latest sewage treatment system. After the waste was processed, it was bagged and sold as organic fertilizer to a local home and garden store.

As he checked off each item on his to-do list, he kept an ear tuned to Jessica's movements in the house.

Earlier she'd been in the kitchen for a glass of water, which she'd taken upstairs. At present she was in her room, presumably reading the John Adams biography, no doubt tired from the afternoon she'd spent working on an old table she'd found in the storage shed. He wondered if she would come to him when it was time for bed.

Probably not.

There was no use torturing himself by dwelling on the possibility. They were at an impasse until they knew what the future held.

He sucked in a deep breath. A baby. A little boy or girl who would follow him around the ranch, full of wonder and questions about nature.

His mother would be in heaven. She was quite upset that her youngest child was in her thirties, Jack was forty, and not one of the five had produced grandkids. Her hopes were centered on Steven and Amy at present. Wouldn't it be a kick if he and Jessica had the first child?

Don't count your chickens….

Jessica was right. They would have to take it one day at a time until they knew what was what. He noted she'd avoided him since the conversation that morning although he'd stayed close to the house during the afternoon.

When he'd come in shortly before six, he'd found a casserole in the oven. A note on the fridge said a salad was inside and that she'd already eaten, so he was to help himself. Hearing water running in her quarters when he went up to wash and change clothes, he'd assumed she was taking a shower. He summoned all his self-control to subdue the urge to see if she would welcome him if he joined her.

He finished inputting data on the stock sale in the computer, saved, made a backup copy and turned the machine off. Glancing at the clock, he saw it was now after nine.

The phone rang.

“Flying Aces,” he said.

“Hi, it's your favorite sister,” Violet told him. “How are things going at the ranch?”

“Fine. Where are you?”

“I'm not sure. Somewhere on the ocean. They don't put up many signs out here.”

He chuckled, then asked, “When will you be home? You will get in for Steven's wedding, won't you?”

“Yes. I spoke to Mom, so I know it's Friday. I'll arrive in port Wednesday and fly in to San Antonio that evening. Can you and Jessica pick me up?”

“Sure.” He grabbed a pencil. “Okay, what's your flight number and time of arrival?”

After he wrote down the information, she asked, “Is Jessica available? I want to find out what she's wearing.”

“Hold on.” He went to the stairs and called up, “Jessica? It's Violet. She wants to talk to you.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

After he made sure the women were connected, he hung up the office phone. He'd noticed the perfect politeness in Jessica's voice when she'd taken the call. It was that of strangers, the way she'd been when she'd first arrived.

He paced restlessly through the house, not liking the distance she'd put between them. He liked being with her up close and personal, as one might say.

Hearing footsteps on the stairs, he turned from staring out the back door, where he'd ended up, and observed his guest as she descended and came down the hall.

She gestured toward the kitchen. “I thought I would have a snack.”

He nodded and followed her into the other room. She made a cup of herbal tea and selected a banana to go with it. She added milk to the tea.

“You're eating more,” he said.

“Yes. Smoky and I walk a lot, so I can indulge in a treat occasionally.”

“I see.”

He couldn't think of anything else to say. No idle chit-chat came to mind. He wished he had Miles's gift for light conversation. It wasn't something he'd ever thought necessary to cultivate, but now he wished he had.

“Jessica—” he began, not at all sure what he was going to say.

“I'm going to bed,” she said abruptly. Leaving the banana and taking the tea with her, she left the room.

He locked the doors before going upstairs. At her door, he paused. Hearing no sound, he continued to his own room.

He wanted to go to her and share all the wonder of that passion they experienced together.

Was there more?

Yes, he admitted. There was an intimacy greater than any he'd ever shared with anyone, excitement when he headed for the house, knowing she would be here, regret over maybe hurting her feelings…and a confused jumble of emotion during it all.

He sighed, feeling even more confused. Grabbing a book—he didn't even look at the title—he settled in the easy chair and began reading until he was ready to go to bed.

“W
hat do you think?” Jessica asked, standing back and looking the lyre table over.

“It's lovely,” Cimma Perez assured her.

Jessica viewed the piece of furniture with a critical eye. She'd worked on it all Saturday afternoon. Today she'd given it a final polishing with paste wax. It now gleamed with the fine patina of age and TLC.

After hauling it out of the shed yesterday, she'd cleaned it and found the original finish in good shape. A light sanding had been all it needed before she'd used a wood sealer on it and glued the marble top back together.

She'd let the sealer and the glue dry overnight and now, after the waxing and lots of rubbing, the piece was perfect, with enough dings and nicks to indicate its long and useful life but not impair its beauty. The thin fracture line in the clean marble blended naturally with the other markings of the stone.

“I hope I age as well as this table has,” she murmured.

Cimma thought this was funny. “You will be beautiful when you are very old.”

Now it was Jessica's turn to grin. “I'll keep my fingers crossed. Thanks for your help.”

She and Cimma had worked together on the polishing after the Perez family had returned from church that morning. Jessica had thought of joining her sister's family in Red Rock for services and perhaps lunch afterward, but Clyde had discouraged the idea.

Since he'd learned of the possibility of a child, he'd become much more concerned for her safety. She wasn't sure if this pleased or irritated her.

Glancing at her watch, she saw it was nearly four. “I'd better get ready. We're going to Steven's for dinner and a tour of his new place. That's why I wanted the table ready. I thought we could take it with us.”

“What a thoughtful wedding gift,” Cimma said, giving her a warm smile.

“I'd mentioned the piece to Amy and she'd seemed interested. I hope she likes it.”

“She'll love it,” the older woman predicted. “Well, I'd better head back to my place and make sure the kids have done their homework.”

They said goodbye, then Jessica went inside and dashed up the stairs. Leaving her work clothes on the floor of the closet, she headed for the shower.

Twenty minutes later, she gazed at her clothing and tried to determine how casual the dinner was going to be. She finally decided blue slacks with a white silk blouse would fit any situation. She blow-dried her hair and dressed quickly upon hearing the shower come on next door.

With a light touch of makeup and her favorite pearl ear
rings, she was ready when she heard Clyde leave his room. She joined him in the gallery.

He, too, wore dark slacks and a white shirt, the cuffs rolled up on his strong sinewy forearms. His hair gleamed with healthy highlights, making her long to run her fingers through it.

His dark eyes flicked over her without expression, although a solemn smile appeared on his handsome face. “Very nice,” he complimented.

“Thanks. Uh, would you help me put the table in the truck? Or were you going to use the station wagon?”

“It's already in the station wagon,” he said.

“Oh. Good.”

Awkward with him for reasons she couldn't define, she let him usher her to the vehicle. She was aware of the currents that flowed between them and the silence that filled the air with the electric hum of tension.

It seemed forever before they arrived at Steven's newly remodeled home on the legendary Loma Vista Ranch near the outskirts of Austin. The ranch had been established way back in the true Wild West days, if Jessica remembered correctly from conversations with Violet. It consisted of ten thousand acres of the finest rangeland in the state.

Another car was in the drive next to a landscaped path that led to a charming front door of oak and glass panels.

Steven must have been watching for them. He opened the door as soon as they appeared. “Come in. We're having a glass of wine on the patio.” He gave Jessica a hug and extended a hand to his triplet.

“Who's here?” Clyde asked as they went through the house to the patio overlooking the rolling green acres dotted with cattle.

“Ryan and Peter Clark stopped by. They were playing golf over at Onion Creek. I think you've met Peter,” Steven said to Clyde. “He's a neurosurgeon here in Austin and a friend of Ryan's family.”

“Yes, I remember him.”

The doors were open to the patio. Amy and the two men stood. Jessica received a warm hug from Amy, then one from Ryan, who refused to stand on formalities.

“I watched you grow up, young lady,” he said, tapping her chin with his forefinger, then holding her arms wide as he looked her over affectionately. “The end result is quite lovely, I might add.”

Jessica bobbed a curtsy and murmured her thanks. She shook hands with Peter Clark when Steven finished with the introductions. Peter was a handsome man with green eyes, dark hair and a firm handshake.

Soon they were all settled in cushioned patio chairs and served their choice in wine. Jessica chose a rosé while Clyde accepted a glass of deep red cabernet.

“Steven says you're a neurosurgeon?” she inquired of the doctor after the men had discussed the new ranch.

“Yes, in Austin.”

“Then you probably know Violet,” Jessica deduced since the two were in the same profession.

“Our sister,” Clyde said, gesturing to himself and Steven.

“I recall the name, but we've never met,” Peter said politely.

“She's a neurologist,” Jessica told him. She turned to Steven and Amy. “Did Clyde tell you she called to say she'll be home in time for the wedding?”

Amy nodded. “She called and told us the news, too. I'm so glad the whole family will be here.”

“Wait a minute,” Peter said suddenly. “Is Violet the same Dr. Fortune who wrote a paper on aging diseases
of the brain and has done extensive research in the field?”

“Yes, that's her.” Jessica was pleased that he'd heard of her friend.

“It was a brilliant piece of work,” Peter said in an admiring manner.

“I'll tell her you said that,” Jessica promised.

“Violet and Jessica are the best of friends,” Clyde explained to the doctor. “Be careful what you say to one because the other will hear of it immediately.”

After the others laughed, Ryan asked, “Has there been a lot of progress on the malfunctions of the brain of late? I haven't read of anything new in a while.”

“Stem cell research holds the most promise for long-term diseases,” Peter said. “As a surgeon, I've been studying implanting techniques for new tissue, with the hope that the procedure will become available someday.”

“But not for a long time,” Ryan concluded.

“No, I'm afraid not. We know a lot about the brain, but it's only a scratch on the surface of the knowledge that is still to be discovered.”

“Breakthroughs can happen at any time, according to Violet. She says great strides are being made throughout the world. I know she would love to talk to you about it,” Jessica said sincerely to the neurosurgeon. “She's due in from her cruise on Wednesday.”

“I'll look forward to meeting her,” Peter said with a smile.

“So will I,” Ryan murmured in a thoughtful manner. “It seems an age since she spent any time at the Double Crown. Maybe we can lure her there for a visit after the wedding.”

Clyde stood. “That reminds me. I could use some help bringing in a special wedding present.”

“You and Miles have already given us that magnificent bull,” Amy said.

“This one's special for you. Stay here until I tell you to come,” Clyde told her. “I'll need your strong back,” he said to his brother.

The two men went to the station wagon while the other four stayed on the patio. In a minute they could hear the two brothers in the foyer of the elegant home. There was a hushed discussion, then Clyde called, “Okay. You can come out here now.”

Amy led the way into the house. She stopped at the arch-way of the entrance hall. “Oh!” she said. “Oh, how lovely!” She walked all around the lyre table, which now held pride of place in the center of the marble floor. “This is perfect, absolutely perfect.”

Jessica sighed in relief at the obvious pleasure on Amy's face.

“I know who to thank for it, too,” the other woman continued, turning to Jessica. “When did you find the time to restore it?”

“It was actually in good shape. Clinton's wife helped me polish it so we could bring it over today.”

“Thank you so much. I love it,” Amy assured her.

Jessica found herself being warmly hugged again by both Amy and Steven. After everyone had properly admired the piece, Ryan and Peter said they needed to leave.

The others waved them off from the front door before returning to the patio. “Let's eat out here, shall we?” Steven asked his bride-to-be.

She nodded. “That would be lovely.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Jessica asked.

Amy looked mischievous. “I must confess—we had a caterer deliver the meal. It's in the oven, so all we have to do is bring it out. But first, I thought you might enjoy a tour of the house.”

“I would love it,” Jessica said.

“Come on, bro. I want to show you
my
new office,” Steven said to Clyde.

The men argued over who had the best equipment and latest ranching programs on their computers until Amy and Jessica rolled their eyes and burst out laughing.

“Let me show you my favorite thing.” Amy led the way into the master suite and bath.

“This is the most gorgeous bathroom I've ever seen,” Jessica said of the spa tub and separate steam shower, all done in the most luxurious of tiles. “It's even more impressive than those I saw at the Double Crown Ranch when I was a teenager.”

Amy laughed in delight. “I do love our home. I want lots of family and friends to stay with us and feel comfortable here, the same as Steven and I do.”

“How could one help it?” Jessica gestured around a large comfortable guest suite when they went to the next room. “The problem might be in getting them to leave.”

After the grand tour, they went to the kitchen and prepared their plates, then settled on the patio as the soft glow of sunset segued into the enchanted shades of twilight.

Jessica realized how easy it would be to imagine that she and Clyde were a couple in love as Steven and Amy were, that they would always be together like this.

“So what's the plan on the big bash for Ryan?” Clyde asked while they dined on baked Cornish hens with pecan-herb stuffing and an assortment of vegetables.

Amy sighed while Steven looked amused. “We've settled on a date in November,” she said. “After the election.”

Steven patted her shoulder. “Don't look so worried. I'm sure the dear governor will be reelected. Even if he isn't, he's still the glorious leader until the end of the year and can give the state's humanitarian award to Ryan. Things
are falling into place,” he said with a loving glance at his fiancée.

“Planning two major events, one of them being your own wedding, would drive me right over the edge,” Jessica declared, casting Amy an admiring glance.

“It has been difficult. So much seems to be happening lately, unfortunately, not all of it good,” Amy said.

Clyde nodded. “Any further word on Christopher Jamison's murderer?”

“Not that I've heard.” Steven refilled their wineglasses and resumed his seat. “Ryan is frustrated that there have been no breaks in the case.”

After discussing the seemingly endless investigation, they turned to the wedding plans. The ceremony itself would be at a small church in Austin that Amy had attended most of her life. A quiet, intimate reception would be held here at the couple's home.

Jessica refused to feel envious as they talked of the coming nuptials, but later, on the way back to the Flying Aces homestead, she couldn't help but wish for a wonderful future for her and the silent man beside her. Sharing life—home, children, memories—established strong bonds between a man and woman. And love could grow from that.

 

The phone was ringing when Jessica went downstairs Monday morning. She ignored it while pouring a cup of coffee, but hesitated before sitting in her usual place at the island counter. She heard Steven's voice on the answering machine telling whoever it was to leave a message. When she heard her sister's voice, she dashed for the portable kitchen phone.

“Leslie? Don't hang up. It's me,” she said. “Hold on while I turn off the machine.”

The beep indicated the caller could begin a message. She ran into the office and turned off the machine. “Hi,” she said when that was done. She returned to the stool in the kitchen. “What's happening with you?”

“The usual,” Leslie said. “I'm going into San Antonio today to look at some bridal items for the store. Would you be available?”

“Yes!”

Leslie laughed at her enthusiasm. “Going a little stir-crazy, are we?”

“Not at all, but it would be wonderful to see you. Also I might shop for a wedding outfit—”

“What?”

“For Steven and Amy's wedding on Friday,” she explained. “I only brought my hiding-out wardrobe with me. I didn't think I would need glamorous stuff, too.”

“You always look great,” Leslie complained albeit good-naturedly. “I'm the one who should shop. I've lost fifteen pounds.”

“Wow. Let me buy you something extravagant to celebrate,” Jessica proposed. “Something to remind Marty just why he married you.”

“Well,” Leslie murmured drolly, “I was preggie, and our parents were angry. I'm not sure I want to remind him of those good ol' days.”

“Oops, I'd forgotten. There was a big, ahem, discussion of the issues in our family living room.”

They laughed together. In addition to familial love for her sister, Jessica felt the deep affection that came from shared experiences, and knew it was returned. She was still smiling when Clyde came inside. He went to the kitchen sink and got a glass of water, which he drank down without pause.