Texas Heat (5 page)

On the ride to Sunbridge, Sawyer carried much of the conversation, telling Rand about the business meetings she'd had in Tokyo and their fruitful outcome. There was a tenseness in Rand's shoulders; Riley could see that his eyes never left the road to smile at Sawyer's jokes. And even though he laughed, there was something hollow in the sound. Sawyer was trying too hard to be amusing, reaching over too frequently to smooth Rand's hand or rub her palm against his cheek.

By the time they reached the turnoff for Sunbridge, Riley could feel the tension in his own shoulders. Sunbridge, an ancestral home. His father's roots were here. But were his? He hoped it hadn't been a mistake to come here. What if he was viewed as a burden? Perhaps Maggie had just been doing what she thought was her duty. Maybe resembling his father as he did would make everyone uncomfortable. He wished he knew. Traveling halfway around the world to come to Sunbridge had been difficult, especially since it meant leaving his mother's family. His Japanese grandfather would be terribly disappointed in him if his stay in America wasn't a success. “Knowing only one side of your ancestors is knowing only one-half of yourself,” the old one had counseled.

The “old one.” Riley smiled to himself. It was the name Grandpa Hasegawa preferred. It denoted wisdom and respect in the traditional Japanese manner. Japanese . . . American . . . who was he?

He looked American, from the top of his billed baseball cap to his scuffed Adidas. Sawyer had assured him it was all right to travel in jeans. The button-down plaid shirt was his own attempt at dressing up. The cap had belonged to his father, and it was never off his head, except when he ate and slept.

Riley couldn't wait to meet his cousin Cole. They'd eat American pizza, hot dogs, tacos, and burritos. For starters. Listening to rock music was his second-favorite pastime. Maybe he and Cole could go to a rock concert together. He could almost picture them walking through the crowd looking for chicks. All American boys were after chicks. Riley frowned. Girls shouldn't be called “chicks,” but he was going to have to adapt. A girl was a girl in any language, and the universal response was always a smile. Sawyer told him he had a smile that would knock girls dead. He grinned to himself.

Sunbridge land. Rolling green hills, crisp and clean and sharp, as though painted on canvas. He particularly liked the tumbleweeds and remembered the way he'd chased them across the lawn on his last visit.

He wasn't visiting now. He was to make this his home, the old one had said. He'd always known he'd come back here someday, but he hadn't expected it so soon. If his mother hadn't been killed, he'd still be in Japan attending the university. This is what she would have wanted for him, the old one had said. The old man had cried at the airport, his stoic Japanese resolve abandoning him. Riley had shed tears of his own, but not until he'd gone to the restroom on the plane. He missed Tokyo already; he missed the old one.

Sawyer leaned over the back seat. “So, what do you think? Has Texas changed?”

“It looks the same to me, just as beautiful. I always expect to see men on horseback come galloping along.”

Sawyer laughed. “They only do that in the movies. Another mile or so and we'll be there. A bit anxious, eh?”

“A little,” Riley admitted.

“The one thing you can count on, Riley, is that Sunbridge will never change. Perhaps some new paint, the trees get bigger, the animals get fatter, but aside from that, everything stays the same. I feel as though I'm coming home. For such a long time this was my home. I can't imagine how you must feel.”

“I want to belong,” Riley said simply.

“You do. This was your father's home. If he hadn't died, this place would have gone to him and to you as his son. We talked about that on the plane. Just because Maggie holds the deed doesn't mean a thing. Sunbridge is as much yours as it is Maggie's and Cole's. Maggie herself will tell you the same thing, I'm sure.”

“They may consider me an intruder.”

“I'm sure that will never happen, but if it does, Grand will make it right. You belong here. Accept it, Riley.”

“Yes ma'am,” Riley said, saluting smartly.

“Hew do you feel about coming to Sunbridge, Rand?” Sawyer asked a trifle anxiously.

“I've always loved Sunbridge, ever since I was a tad and Amelia brought me here for the first time, during the war. It's a grand place.”

“I know....”

“I can see the arch,” Riley said, breaking the awkward moment.

“That means we're home,” Sawyer said airily. Homecomings were so important to everyone, for different reasons.

When they climbed from the car in the wide, circular driveway, Sawyer found herself brushing shoulders with Rand. He was so silent—the kind of silence that trembles. How absurd! she thought. Rand was the most together person she knew. He didn't have a nerve in his body. But she did give him a second look before she threw her arm around Riley's shoulder.

This was her mother's house now. Not Sunbridge, not their home. Maggie's home. Sawyer couldn't help but wonder how Riley was going to fit in. For all her brave, reassuring talk, she wasn't certain. Maggie had loved her brother, and if things went right, she would love young Riley, too. For Maggie's own reasons.

Riley's smile and dark good looks were certainly charming everyone else. The baseball cap was clutched fiercely between his hands. A pity the boy didn't know he had nothing to fear. At least from the Coleman women. The envy and dislike in young Cole's eyes might give the boy a spot of trouble later on, but that was to be expected. Boys were always rivals in one way or another.

Maggie took center stage, calling for quiet. “I think we're all here now. I'm so happy you could come here today. It's kind of a momentous holiday. Freedom and independence, that kind of thing. It's been such a long time since we were all gathered under the same roof. If we can, let's put the past behind us and move closer to making this the kind of family we should be. It's what I want, and I think all of you want the same thing. For any of you who don't know, Riley is going to be staying with us here at Sunbridge for as long as he wants. This is his home as well as mine. Sunbridge belongs to all of us. This is home.”

Cole stood up and clapped his hands. “Bravo, Mother. Very well said.” Maggie flushed with embarrassment. “Cole,” she said apologetically, “doesn't understand what Sunbridge is all about. He's going to learn, though. This summer he's going to ride the range and do all the things Pap and my brother used to do. He's going to learn what Sunbridge is all about. Riley, too.”

Cole sputtered. “You promised. . . . You lied to me . . .”

“That's enough, Cole,” Maggie said quietly.

“Why? So you can pretend to all these people, this wonderful family of yours, that you're the grande dame of Sunbridge? You had no intention of considering my trip to Europe! You had this summer all planned out for me. For him, too,” Cole said, jerking his head in Riley's direction.

“I said that's enough, Cole,” Maggie said, coldly this time.

“Stuff this party, Mother. I'll be in my room,” Cole said, stalking off and turning his ankle just as he walked through the doorway.

Maggie's eyes spun around the assembled guests. To apologize for her son or not . . . Everyone had family problems. Her gaze locked with Rand's. The rosy circles on her cheeks stood out starkly.

Billie let her breath out in a soft sigh. She was standing beside Riley. Her hand went protectively to his arm. She wanted to say something comforting but couldn't find the words. It was Riley himself who saved the moment.

“Aunt Maggie, which horse will I have? And if I'm to ride the range, how many days will it take for my blisters to heal?”

Maggie laughed, a light sound of relief. “About a good two weeks. For starters, I think you can ride Lotus. She's fairly gentle and she likes an apple for any ride over thirty minutes. Later, you can ride Stormy. Your father's riding gear is in his closet. From the looks of you, it'll just fit.”

Rand glanced over at Sawyer, who was still staring at the doorway through which Cole had stumbled. He knew her feelings for Maggie were unresolved. It was never easy being abandoned. Sawyer was quite sensitive on the subject of her mother. He found himself gulping his drink. Knowing this, how could he be such a heel? How could he add to her hurt?

 

There was a knock on Cole's door and Riley was standing in the open doorway. “They sent me up to find you,” he explained. “I'm glad to meet you. I wanted to see you the last time I was here, but it just wasn't possible.”

“I lived with it,” Cole said sarcastically. His cousin stood head and shoulders above him had made him feel all of four years old. “I could live with it if you left right now. I don't understand why you're here to begin with.”

Riley took a step backward as though he'd been dealt a physical blow. He'd never encountered such rudeness; it would never have been allowed in his grandfather's house. But the old man had cautioned him not to bring shame on their family, and the boy answered quietly, “This was my father's home. I never knew him; Sunbridge is as close to him as I can get. I'd like to know how he grew up here in Texas. I'd like to experience it for myself.”

“Well, I don't want to be here, and I sure as hell don't want to live with some Japanese orphan. Don't go getting any ideas we're going to be buddies and that I'm going to ride the old south forty to help you chase down your father's ghost.”

Riley bristled. “I won't ask you for anything. I didn't come here to freeload, if that's what you're thinking. I can earn my keep.”

“Oh, yeah, and what're you going to do? Ride the range, herd cattle, mend fences, muck the barn?”

“If I have to,” Riley said sharply. “You don't have to like me, Cole”—there was an inner core of strength in his voice—“but I'm not going to let you walk all over me just because I'm a guest in your mother's house. I can handle myself.”

“Look how impressed I am. I was on the boxing team at school. You're just what we need around here, a smart-ass with a black belt in karate.”

Riley laughed. “Is that the same thing as being a wise-ass?”

Cole didn't laugh; he knew Riley was mocking him. Cole turned his back and took two steps away, the hackles on the back of his neck warning him that Riley could pound him to a pulp. He was ready for anything, ready to fight if Riley made a move. “Dumb Jap prick!”

Cole turned suddenly, expecting Riley's onslaught, but he found himself alone and facing an empty doorway. Cole swept his arm over the top of his dresser, finding small satisfaction in the tinkle of broken glass.

Maggie presided over the long, linen-draped table. If she
noticed the vacant place beside hers, she gave no indication. Coleman's presence, she decided, was almost incidental to this gathering. Smiling, she rose to offer a welcoming toast. “To our family, each one of us!”

The chorus of enthusiastic responses pleased Maggie. “Wait,” she said, holding up her hand. “We have another toast. To Sunbridge!” This time the responses were more subdued. Only Riley beamed from ear to ear, and it was his echoing toast that could be clearly heard.

In deference to the huge Texas-style barbecue that would be offered later that evening when the other guests arrived, Maggie's luncheon menu was purposely light: salad in aspic, which she noticed the men refused, baked lemon sole fillets, and asparagus tips. For the heartier appetite, a rich fish chowder was served, complete with thick slices of French bread and crumbled bacon. And, for dessert, coffee, pie and ice cream.

“Still watching your weight, Susan?” Maggie asked as she dug into her apple pie.

“In a way. At our age it's difficult to take it off. Besides, I'm looking forward to those barbecued ribs.”

Jerome, mining his way through a second piece of pie with double ice cream, glanced at his wife. “I don't want you to overdo tonight. Remember your diet.” Then, looking around at the others, he said, “Susan has to be careful. It's critically important how she looks onstage. She's been admired for her angelic, ethereal appearance when she sits before the piano. One bulge and it's all ruined.”

“Susan has always been a disciplined person,” Billie said. “I quite admire you, darling. And as for your figure, you have nothing to worry about. Whatever do you do when you want to binge? What's your secret?”

“I look at Jerome, Mam,” Susan said coolly. An uneasy silence shrouded the table.

“I think you need a good, long rest, Susan,” said Amelia. “You're looking a bit peaked,” she added bluntly.

“There's nothing wrong with Susan,” Jerome said sharply. “It was the trip, coming off the tour and getting ready for the next one. Susan is fine.”

Thad whispered to Billie, “Methinks he doth protest too much. Follow your instincts, darling. She's your daughter.”

“I'll talk with her later, Thad. She looks miserable enough now; I don't want to add to it.”

There was a lump growing in Susan's throat. All her family was here, and if there was ever a time to make an announcement, this was it. Damn Jerome and his career. Damn the tour and damn the critics. First she looked at Amelia, and then at Billie, who nodded slightly to show she understood. Susan had something to say, and this was as good a time as any to say it.

The knife was in Susan's hand before she could think, and she was tapping lightly on her water glass. “Listen, everybody, I have an announcement.” She carefully avoided looking at her husband.

“Susan! We've discussed this,” Jerome hissed at her across the table. “Not now, for God's sake!”

“Now!” she said. “Everybody...” She took a deep breath. “Everybody, I'm pregnant! Isn't it wonderful?”

Maggie was off her chair and took her sister into her embrace. “Suse! How wonderful! I'm so happy for you! This calls for another toast!”

“There hasn't been a baby in the family since Coleman.” Billie laughed. “When is this wonderful new addition to arrive?”

“In time for my birthday. February.” Susan was brightening before Billie's eyes. Already there was more color in her cheeks, and her eyes were glowing.

“That's if all goes well,” Jerome said.

“Why shouldn't it?” Amelia asked. “Our Susan's a strong, healthy woman. Or is there something you're not telling us, Jerome?”

He was saved from having to reply by Sawyer, who had left her place at the table and stood behind Susan's chair. “If you're in the market for a godmother, I volunteer. How lucky you are, Susan! So very lucky.” She squeezed Susan in a hug.

Rand's pulses were pounding. The naked want on Sawyer's face saddened him and terrified him at the same time. They'd talked of this, of marriage and children. Sawyer should have children, lots of them. She'd be a wonderful mother. But what of himself? He just couldn't see himself at fifty with toddlers climbing on his knee. He knew Sawyer was looking at him, willing him to share her secret smile, to give her some sign that one day the two of them would achieve this miracle. When Rand refused to meet her eyes, Sawyer dropped her head, silky blond hair hiding her face.

Susan patted Sawyer's hand and looked directly at Jerome. “Don't say another word, but I'm going to have another scoop of ice cream.” There was a challenge in her eyes, determination in the set of her mouth. There, it was out in the open. She'd told her family and they were delighted. Until this very moment, with Jerome's badgering, she hadn't been certain herself that she wanted this baby. But now her family knew, and they were happy for her.

Servants were clearing the table, bringing out an array of cordials: Courvoisier for the men, Grand Marnier for the women. Bowls of fruits and boards of cheeses replaced pie plates and ice cream salvers.

Billie followed Riley's gaze as it rested first on one face, then another. It hurt to look at the boy. Her heart ached for her dead son. Seeing Riley, now a young man, recalled so many old torments. It was uncanny how much he resembled his father, her son who had died so young. Hardly fifteen, but already he was as tall as his father had been at twenty. Maggie was right: the worn jeans and favorite shirts and perhaps even the boots that had been stored away because no one could bear to dispose of them would fit the boy now. If Riley chose to wear them. And Billie knew what his decision would be. She hoped she'd be gone from here before then. Grief, it seemed, held to no time clock.

 

Maggie clutched Billie's hand as they walked back to the house to rest for a while and change before the guests began to arrive. “I'm scared as hell about tonight, Mam. I don't know if I can pull this off.”

“You'll do fine, Maggie. Stop worrying and just enjoy your guests. Everything's under control, and you have your entire family here to back you up.”

Maggie slipped her arm around Billie's shoulder and squeezed. The deep sable tones in her hair contrasted with Billie's blondness. “I know, and I appreciate it, believe me. It's just that I'm afraid to make a fool of myself. Sunbridge is home now; it's important to me to be accepted by my neighbors.”

Billie laughed merrily. “I'd hardly call the governor and his wife neighbors, but I know what you mean. As we were driving out today, I saw how developed Crystal City has become. I remember when it was Crystal Crossroads, with nothing but a general store and a gas station. Now, it seems, culture has arrived. Boutiques and bookshops, and didn't I see an art gallery and gift shop?”

“You did. And a hair salon and haberdashers. You name it, we've got it. Most of the shops and businesses have been opened by bored matrons from the country club. Their clientele consists mainly of one another, but I'd say they're thriving, giving Neiman-Marcus a run for its money.”

“It's been almost a year since you're out here, Maggie. Have you joined the club and made friends?”

“I've joined the country club, but I don't know if I've made friends. Oh, I play tennis and even some golf, and I'm a member of the Cattleman's Association, but I don't really know if they accept me.”

“I felt the same way when I lived here with your father. They're a closed unit, and while they smile on the outside, I guess you have to be one of them to know what's going on inside. I wasn't born here, Maggie; you were. You're more like them than you know—you belong here. Besides, you're not lacking in social skills. I remember some of the clippings from the social columns describing the parties you threw when you lived in New York with Cranston. And even before that, you were director of Sandor Locke's art gallery as well as his unofficial hostess. I should think that New York crowd would be much more critical than people here in Texas. You've always been a success, Maggie; things won't change now.”

“I hope you're right, Mam. This is a first for me.” Maggie opened the door to the house and allowed Billie to step through. “I didn't get one refusal, but I can't fool myself. I know why they're coming and so do you. They want another look at all of us, Amelia, Susan, you.”

“Perhaps you're right, but we'll present the united front you want. Stop worrying. As you said, no one refused your invitation, not even the governor!”

“They want to eat my food and drink my liquor! They're all freeloaders who live from one party to the next!”

Billie giggled. “Seth used to say almost the same thing. ... And Maggie, I noticed that you aren't drinking at all. I'm proud of you, believe me.”

“I do, Mam. I need a clear head for my future, and I won't clutter it up with booze and pills. I don't want to be dependent on anything except my own resources. I have Cole and Riley to think of now. It's a new Maggie.”

“And I like her,” Billie said. “I always liked the old Maggie, too.”

“For a while I didn't know that, Mam. I wasn't certain anyone liked the old Maggie, not even myself.”

“Maggie, Sawyer doesn't—”

“Not now, Mam. Not today. I'm not so sure this new me is strong enough to tackle that old skeleton. Let me take it one step at a time.”

“All right, Maggie. But it won't go away, you know. Sooner or later you and Sawyer will have to resolve your feelings.”

“I know. I'm doing my best. I'll try, really.”

“You know, just for a minute you looked like Moss,” Billie said quietly. “That same haunted expression used to come into his eyes when he was forced to make a promise he had no intention of keeping. I'm sorry, Maggie. I don't want to press you.”

Billie shivered and a sudden prickle of goose bumps broke out on her arms. “Come away from the door, Mam; we're standing in a draft.” Then, in a lighter tone, “Guess what I'm wearing tonight.”

Billie laughed. “The honeysuckle-patterned beaded gown?”

“Exactly. It'll knock everyone's eyes out. Everyone will know you designed the fabric especially for me. Amelia said she bought a new Adolfo, and Susan told me she's wearing the two-piece watered silk you sent her for Christmas. I didn't get a chance to ask Sawyer.”

“Whatever she wears, she'll be stunning. Are you planning on a receiving line, Maggie?”

“Absolutely. All the Coleman women will be lined up to let 'em get a first-crack look at us. What're you planning to wear?”

“Well, since you insist they're coming to gawk, I just might wear my birthday suit! That should set them back on their heels!”

 

Cary stepped out of the shower and into the thickly carpeted bedroom, a scanty towel wrapped around his hard, lean middle. With another towel he was drying his obstinately wavy black hair.

“Are you finished with the bathroom?” asked Amelia. “How come you always get to use the shower first?”

“Because I don't stay in there for two hours and you do.” Cary quipped, moving closer to plant a kiss on the side of her neck. Lovingly he took his wife's hand and held it, oblivious to the network of blue veins and the faint brown splotches. He only felt the softness and the affectionate pressure she returned.

“Mmmm. You smell so good.” Amelia relished the feel of his lips against her skin and his fresh soapy scent. Beads of water clung to his shoulders and glistened in the thick mat of his chest hair.

Cary recognized the expression in Amelia's eyes and the heated quality of her voice. “I'll give you a nickel if you yank off this towel,” he murmured intimately. “And two bits if you follow through.”

Amelia resisted the intoxicating invitation and quelled her pulse-thumping reaction with a laugh. “Make it a dollar and you might have a deal.” She moved away from him, carrying the impression of his touch with her. She didn't want him to see how much his overtures pleased her, how hungry she was for him. “But first I'll have my shower, and it's going to take me time to redo my makeup. . . .” She paused thoughtfully. “On second thought, make that ten bucks.”

“Sweetheart, you could appear at this shindig wearing a J.C. Penney towel, and you'd still be the best-looking broad here.”

“No, thank you, I'd rather wear the dress I brought especially for this occasion.” She stepped over to him and presented her back for him to undo her zipper. “Cary darling, what did you think of the clan?” His answer was important to her and Cary knew it, too, so he chose his words carefully.

“It's a family I'd like to belong to.”

“You do. You married me.”

“I mean, I'd like to have been born into it.”

“No, you wouldn't. Trust me. You think we were always like we are now. Well, you're wrong.” Her tone lowered, old regrets coloring her voice. “Cary, people did awful things to one another in this house.” Then, wanting to be on firmer ground, she asked, “What did you think of Billie?”

“She's terrific. Her admiral is an okay guy, too.”

Cary's streetwise vernacular never bothered Amelia. In fact, she enjoyed being called a “good-looking broad.” She'd known others with more refined speech and manners who hadn't half the honesty and character of Cary. She sucked in her breath when he dropped the skimpy towel around his middle and stepped into silky bikini briefs. She blinked and looked at her watch meaningfully.