After Tex (20 page)

“Henrietta thought you might need legal advice.”

“Henrietta's meddling.”

“Maybe so, but my guess is that she's right about this. Unless you've bounced off a couple of doors in the past twenty-four hours, it looks as if you could use some help.”

She whirled on him. Jake was shocked by the full extent of her injuries. There were more cuts and bumps than he could count. He forced himself not to visibly react, tried only to remember the pretty blond woman with the sweet smile who had once sat next to him in history class and shared her notes and wry comments.

“Okay, you've had a good look now,” she said angrily. “Go on back to your office.”

“Not without explaining a few facts,” he said quietly.

“What facts?” she asked sarcastically. “That if I dare to leave Lyle, I won't live to tell about it? That if I file so much as a complaint with the sheriff, this beating will seem like a gentle nudge? Believe me, nobody knows the facts of my life better than I do. Like my mama used to say, I made my bed, now I've got to lie in it.”

“Your mama was wrong. Nobody expects you to stay with a man who abuses you.”

“Where would I go? I've got no money, no job skills, nothing more than a high school diploma. I've got two kids depending on me.”

“They're depending on you for more than food,” Jake pointed out. “They're depending on you to protect yourself and them from harm. They're depending on you to say it's not all right for their father to beat you.” He gazed steadily into her eyes. “They're depending on you to stay alive.”

Tears welled up and rolled silently down her swollen cheeks. Jake let his message sink in before going on.

“There are places you could go to be safe. You
could file assault and battery charges against Lyle and send him to prison. Even his mama won't be able to save him from that charge. All it would take is a photo of the way you look right now. At the very least you could get a restraining order to keep him away from you and the kids. Folks around here would help you out with the kids and with money till you get on your feet.”

“I can't ask for help like that,” she whispered, covering her face with her hands.

“Why not?”

“I'm too ashamed. I'm ashamed that my husband beats me.”

“You've done nothing wrong,” Jake said heatedly. “Lyle is the one who ought to be ashamed.”

“Maybe…”

“Maybe what?”

“Maybe I deserved it. That's what his mother says.”

Jake slammed his fist onto the butcher block counter. “No, dammit! Barbara Sue, you did not deserve it. Nobody deserves to be mistreated by a husband, a man who vowed to love, honor and protect you. If Mrs. Perkins says otherwise, she's just blinded by the fact that he's her boy. She would have done him a greater service if she'd laid down a few rules for him way back when they could have done some good. Instead, she's always let him have his own way, encouraged him to think he's never in the wrong.”

Jake reached over and covered Barbara Sue's hand. “Tell me something. Has he ever hurt the kids or threatened to?”

She shook her head.

“He will. Believe me, one of these days, he will.”

She lifted her gaze to clash with Jake's. “I'll kill him first.”

Jake shuddered. Of all the things she had said, none carried more conviction. She had to get out of that house now, before there was a real tragedy.

“Please, let me look into that restraining order. Get him out of the house.”

“It was his family's house. His mother gave it to us when we got married,” Barbara Sue pointed out. “He'll say I'm the one with no right to stay there.”

“The court won't see it that way.”

“Jake, I've heard everything you've said and I know you're trying to help, but I have to do this my own way. You don't know Lyle the way I do. He's changed since school. He's bitter about so many things. He can't hold a job except at his mama's store. Even she's losing patience with him. He drinks too much.”

“I've known other men like him,” Jake assured her. “He won't change, so you have to be the one to take care of yourself.”

“You're probably right, but this is the way it's going to be,” she said, literally turning her back to him to face the sinkful of dishes.

Jake sighed. Saying any more now would be wasting his breath. “Come to see me if you change your mind.”

“I won't,” she said emphatically.

Jake walked back into the front of the diner and slid onto a stool. Henrietta put a cup of coffee in front of him, but kept waiting on the packed booths. Only
after things had slowed down did she slip onto the stool beside him.

“Well?”

“She won't hear of me doing anything.”

“I was afraid of that. She's terrified, Jake. She's convinced he'll kill her if she does anything except go home and take more of the same.”

He regarded Henrietta bleakly. “Could be she's right.”

“So, what do we do?” she demanded indignantly. “Just leave her there?”

“If that's her choice, there's nothing we can do.”

“Well, I don't believe that. If she won't leave, then she at least ought to look out for those kids.”

“I tried to tell her that, too.”

“Can I file something with the court to get them out of there?”

Jake regarded her incredulously. “You would do that?”

“If it'll protect them from that monster of a father, yes,” she said fiercely. “They can come to live with me. When she wakes up and smells the coffee, Barbara Sue can come, too.”

“I have to tell you that interfering could put you right smack in the middle of this. Lyle will likely go on the warpath. In addition, you'll be breaking Barbara Sue's heart.”

Henrietta sighed. “I know that. Maybe it's not my place to interfere, but thinking of those kids caught up in that breaks
my
heart.”

“Give Barbara Sue a couple of days. Maybe when she's thought it through, she'll come around.”

“Things like this don't get better by waiting,” the older woman said.

“I know.”

“Two days,” she finally agreed with obvious reluctance. “Then we're going to the court to file for protective custody for those children. Will you help me?”

“You know I will.”

She patted his hand. “You're a good man, Jake Landers. I knew I could count on you.”

Jake just prayed they weren't asking for more trouble than either of them had bargained for.

“H
ave you seen Tess this morning?” Mrs. Gomez asked when Megan finally came into the kitchen after ten on Sunday.

Still exhausted from her late-night meeting, Megan yawned. “Isn't she still asleep?”

“At this hour? Heavens, no. She is an early riser like your grandfather. She is up with the chickens.”

A vague sense of unease stirred in Megan. “Have you looked in the barn?”

“She is not with the kittens,” Mrs. Gomez replied. “That was the first place I checked. And before you ask, Tex's horse is still in his stall. I believe she learned her lesson about trying to ride him.”

Megan studied the housekeeper worriedly. “You don't suppose…?”

“That her mother came?” Mrs. Gomez suggested, immediately picking up on her unspoken thought. “Tess would not go with her, not without stirring up a fuss. After her reaction the other day when we learned of her mother's return, I am sure of that.”

“Then she's probably just gone for a walk,” Megan said, trying to convince herself and Mrs. Gomez that there was no reason to be concerned. “As soon as I have some breakfast, I'll go look for her.” She
reached for a cranberry-filled muffin still warm from the oven and bit into it, even as she poured herself a cup of coffee. “Have you seen Todd?”

“I believe he is in Tex's office. He ate three of my muffins and then said he had work to do,” she said, her disapproval plain. “I told him it was a day of rest.”

“And what did he say?”

“That he worked for a woman who didn't know the meaning of the word.”

Megan pressed a kiss to the housekeeper's cheek. “It's an emergency,” she assured her. “Moving the show out here really screwed up our production plans. I swear to you that by next week, things will settle down.”

“This I will believe when I see it,” Mrs. Gomez retorted. “You are not in a line of work that ever settles down. Now sit. Eat. I will go and look for Tess. You have too many things on your mind as it is.”

Megan stayed at the kitchen table and savored her second cup of coffee, enjoying the brief respite before the guaranteed storm of activity that the rest of the day and the upcoming week would bring. She was still there when the housekeeper returned after a more thorough search for Tess.

“She is nowhere, none of her usual hiding places,” Mrs. Gomez reported, frowning. “I do not like this. It is not like Tess to vanish without leaving word.”

“She did it before,” Megan pointed out. “Just the other night.”

“This is different. I can feel it.”

To be honest, Megan didn't like the feel of it, either. Maybe she was just picking up on Mrs. Gomez's
concern, but a little knot of dread was forming in her stomach. If only Jake were here, he would know what to do, where to look. As much as she hated to admit it, he seemed to understand Tess far better than she did.

“If she doesn't turn up in the next half hour, I'll call Jake,” Megan said with reluctance.

“That would be best,” Mrs. Gomez agreed. “He and Tess are two of a kind. I think your grandfather knew that when he put Jake in charge of his estate.”

Megan's gaze narrowed. “What are you saying?”

“Just that Tex knew they would be good for each other.”

“But he made me Tess's guardian,” Megan reminded her, not sure why she was hurt by what the housekeeper was suggesting.

“You are family. He trusted you to do right by Tess.” Mrs. Gomez looked distraught. “I am not saying this well.”

“Oh, I think you're saying it fine. I think you believe that Tex didn't trust me at all, that Jake was his backup in case I failed.”

“I would never say such a thing,” Mrs. Gomez protested. “I helped to raise you. No one knows your strengths better than I.”

“And my failings,” Megan pointed out. “No, you are too kind to say that I'm likely to screw up, but you believe it just the same.”

And the terrible thing was, Megan thought as she left the kitchen, even she believed the housekeeper might be right. For every step forward she took in building a relationship with Tess, there were a half-dozen back.

Because she didn't know where else to go or what else to do, she headed for Tex's office to check in with Todd before launching her own search for Tess. At the doorway, she screeched to a halt. Inside, heads bent over the huge architectural rendering of Peggy's kitchen that Megan had borrowed, were Todd and Tess.

“What does this mean?” Tess was asking, pointing to a note attached to one side.

“It means that the segment on drying cranberries will take ten minutes, that it will use the kitchen set and that it will be followed by the recipe for those muffins Mrs. Gomez made this morning,” Todd explained patiently.

“Megan's going to make those?” Tess asked, her expression incredulous. “On television?”

“Yep.”

Tess continued to look skeptical. “Have you ever eaten one of Megan's muffins?”

Todd grinned. “It's not important that she be a great chef, just that she can entertain the audience, communicate the recipe and make it sound easy.”

“In other words, you have,” Tess said. “Her cooking sucks.”

Todd glanced up and caught sight of Megan. “I wouldn't say that,” he replied diplomatically.

“Oh, go ahead and say it,” Megan said. “We all know that I have a tendency to get distracted and burn things.”

Todd grinned. “That's why we prebake the finished product, so it's picture perfect. You add ingredients, you stir, someone else bakes.”

“You mean it's like a giant fib that she's really
cooking all that stuff?” Tess demanded. She scowled at Megan. “Did Tex know?”

“It's not really a fib,” Megan said defensively. “There's not enough time to bake on the air. Every show precooks the final product so it can be dished up and served at the end of the episode.”

“What about those fancy flower arrangements?” Tess demanded, her expression indignant. “Is some florist hiding backstage to do those, too? And what about when you do that quilting stuff?”

Megan felt as if she'd been caught cheating on her high school math test. “I do most of the work,” she insisted, “but naturally I have consultants. I have a whole staff of people doing the planning and preparation. Otherwise, I'd never get the magazine out each month or get the show on the air every day.”

“But everybody thinks you're like this Suzy Homemaker or something,” Tess protested. “What a rip-off. You probably don't even like to do that stuff.”

“Of course I do,” Megan said. “Okay, some of it's a little tedious, but most of it is challenging and fun.”

Tess still looked as if she'd been betrayed. “I'll bet you can't even grow a decent tomato, not the way Tex could.”

Actually, Megan was pretty sure she could grow a tomato if she had to. How hard could it be to stick a seed in the ground, water it and watch it grow? Unfortunately, as a practical matter, there hadn't been a lot of places to grow a tomato in her New York apartment. The gardening segments were done at a bor
rowed house on Long Island…by a landscaping professional and a farmer.

“I could grow one,” she insisted to Tess.

“Bet you couldn't,” Tess countered.

“Well, it's not the right time of year to try,” Megan said, thankful for small favors.

“Ever heard of a greenhouse?” Tess demanded. “Tex has one. He put it in back of the barn so he could get a jump start on the growing season.”

Just then Jake joined them. “What's in back of the barn?”

“A greenhouse,” Megan said, unable to keep a despondent note out of her voice.

“And that is important because…?” he asked, clearly confused.

“Because she and Tess are having a pissing contest over tomato growing,” Todd said with evident amusement. “I suspect we're about to be treated to dueling tomato plants, winner takes all.”

Tess looked a little too intrigued by the idea for Megan's comfort. If she weren't careful, there would be a tell-all in some tabloid about how she'd been bested in the garden by a pip-squeak. Her sterling reputation would be left in tatters.

“Forget it,” she said emphatically. “I am not going to challenge you to a tomato-growing contest.”

“It would be a great segment for the show,” Todd taunted. “We could do little weekly updates, measure the height, count the blossoms. Putting you and Tess together on the air would make you seem even more human. The audience would love it.”

“The audience will not love it, because they will
not see it,” Megan insisted. “This isn't some game where I have to prove myself to an eight-year-old.”

Jake regarded her knowingly. “Maybe you do have something to prove,” he suggested. “Not to Tess. To yourself.”

“I do not have anything to prove,” she retorted. “Now, can we get to work?”

“You're the boss,” Todd said readily.

Jake bent down and brushed a kiss across her lips. “Think about it,” he murmured in a voice too low to be overheard. He stood and held out his hand. “Come on, Tess. Let's go riding.”

Megan's gaze shot to his. “You're taking her riding?”

“She needs another lesson and you need us out of your hair, right?”

“Right,” she agreed.

As they left, heading out to enjoy a picture-perfect fall day, maybe one of the last before winter's onset, Megan sighed. She was surprised by the wave of disappointment that washed over her. For the first time in years, she actually regretted that she always made work her first priority.

 

“Some guy's coming this afternoon,” Tess announced as she and Jake rode toward the creek.

“What guy?” Jake asked, not at all pleased by the jealousy that streaked through him.

“Todd says he's some numbers guy who's got the hots for Megan.” She regarded Jake with evident curiosity. “What's a numbers guy?”

“An accountant, I imagine,” Jake responded, taking note of the fact that Tess apparently didn't require
an explanation for the rest of Todd's remark. Either she'd dismissed it as unimportant or she knew entirely too much for a kid.

“I don't think you need to worry, though,” Tess went on slyly.

“Why would I worry?”

“In case Megan likes him back, silly. But she doesn't.”

“And how would you know that?”

“Todd said.”

Jake shook his head in disbelief. “You actually asked Todd?”

“Well, of course I did,” she said matter-of-factly. “How else are you supposed to find out stuff?”

“Some things are personal,” Jake pointed out.

“Todd said, not me. I figured it was okay to ask. Besides, Megan wasn't there to get mad.”

“You were still prying into her private life.”

“I guess that means you don't want to know what else Todd said,” she suggested.

“About this numbers guy?”

“Uh-huh.”

Curiosity won out over his desire to set a good example. “What did he say?”

“He said the guy thinks he's some kinda big hero.”

Jake tensed. If there was going to be a hero in Megan's life, it wasn't going to be some CPA from New York. “Todd told you that?”

“No,” Tess said impatiently. “He said that to Megan before I talked to him.”

“And you just happened to overhear it?”

Tess regarded him with pity. “When you're a kid,
you gotta listen. Grown-ups are always deciding stuff about you. It's best to know what's going on.”

Jake admired her logic, if not her strategy. “Eaves-dropping is not a good thing, short stuff.”

“Megan said that, too. What are you guys, the etiquette police?”

Jake coughed to hide a chuckle. “And what do you know about etiquette?”

“Not much, according to Miss Herter at school. She's always saying I got no manners.”

“And very little grasp of proper English,” Jake added. Oh, well, one thing at a time. He'd leave the grammar to the teachers, but it wouldn't hurt to reinforce a few lessons on manners.

He gave Tess a stern look. “Okay, here's the deal. No more listening at keyholes, hiding behind chairs—”

“I never—”

“Oh, yes, you did,” he said firmly. “Tex warned me about that little habit of yours and it won't happen again. Private conversations are meant to be just that, private.”

“I still say I got a right to know stuff.”

“If you have questions, ask.”

“How do I know what questions to ask if I don't know what's going on?”

“Maybe you should just stop assuming that something is going on that involves you.”