Heart of Texas Vol. 3 (8 page)

“Dovie,” he whispered softly, watching a silk slip float down over her breasts and hips. “Come here, love.”

“Don't you use that tone of voice with me, Frank Hennessey. I'm running late as it is.”

“Dovie,” he coaxed and sat up. He held out his arms to her. “How about a good-morning hug?”

“Not now.”

“No?” Frank was surprised. Dovie rarely refused him anything, especially when it came to what she called “the delights of the flesh.” He'd never met a woman like her. Dovie was a lady to the core, but when it came to lovemaking, she was both lusty and generous.

“It won't stop with a hug and you know it,” she chastised.

He did know it and he sighed deeply.

Dovie disappeared into her closet.

“Where are you going now?” he called.

“Out of sight, out of mind,” she called back, giggling.

Frank tucked his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. He didn't bother to tell her it didn't work that way, at least not with him. The time they'd been apart, he'd done nothing but think of her. Thoughts of Dovie had tormented him day and night, until he was sure he'd lost his mind.

“Do that again,” he said, savoring these moments in bed.

“Do what?” came her muffled question.

“Giggle.”

“That's a silly thing to ask.” But she did.

Frank loved the sound of it. He had to smile every time he heard her giggle. Or laugh. Or just heard her, period.

Dovie reappeared a minute later in a royal-blue dress that buttoned up the front and belted at the waist. She braced one hand on the bed post as she slipped into her pumps.

“I'm going to do something with my hair and then I'm heading for church.”

“No hug?”

One outraged glance answered the question. Frank laughed.

“I'm driving out to see Savannah, Laredo and the baby after church,” she said.

“Do you mind if I tag along?” he asked.

Apparently his question caught her by surprise because she abruptly stopped brushing her hair and met his gaze. Her eyes softened. “You want to see the baby?”

Frank nodded. “That surprises you?”

“Yes. Do you like babies?”

“Actually I'm quite fond of children.” It was his one regret in life. He'd give anything to have met Dovie as a young man and had children with her. She would have been a wonderful mother, just as she was a fabulous wife. “I would have liked kids of my own,” he confessed with a hint of sadness.

She continued to stare at him and he noticed a sheen in her eyes—as though she was about to weep.

“Dovie?” he asked gently. “What's wrong?”

“Oh, damn,” she said, sniffling. “I'm going to ruin my makeup and I don't have time to fuss with it now.”

Frank climbed out of bed and reached for his robe. “What is it, Dovie?” he asked again.

“I always wanted children,” she whispered. “So badly.”

“I assumed you and Marvin decided not to have a family,” he said. They'd never discussed the subject, and it seemed strange to be doing so now.

“We couldn't have children,” Dovie said. “Marvin…had the mumps as a teenager. I never complained, but…”

“Couldn't you have adopted?”

“Marvin wouldn't hear of it. I asked him to reconsider many times, and he refused. As much as I wanted to be a mother, I couldn't bring a child into our home when my husband felt the way he did.”

“I'm so sorry, Dovie.”

She attempted a smile. “It was a long time ago. I don't even know why I'm crying. But when you said how much you regretted not having children, I realized…why I love you so much.”

The hug he'd been longing to collect all morning was now given with spontaneity. Frank held her tight and closed his eyes.

“Perhaps Savannah and Laredo will allow us to be substitute grandparents for Laura Rose,” he whispered.

“I was thinking the same thing,” Dovie said. She cradled his face and smiled, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “I love you, Frank Hennessey.”

“I wish we'd met years ago,” he said, voicing his earlier thoughts.

“We met at exactly the right time,” she told him. “Any sooner and I would've been married.”

“Any later, and you might've been with that judge you met on the cruise. The Canadian guy.”

“Perhaps,” she admitted, but skeptically. She dabbed at her eyes. “Frank, I really must rush. You know how compulsive I am about being on time.”

Frank checked his watch and knew if he hurried, he'd have time to dress and join her.

“I'll go with you,” he said.

“Any reason?” she asked.

“Several reasons—but if I take the time to list them, we'll be walking in during the middle of Wade's sermon.”

T
RAVIS WAITED UNTIL
J
EREMY
and Emma had left for school on Monday morning before he approached Nell, who was in the barn. “Ruth said I'd find you here,” he said, feeling a bit awkward.

She was busy tending a newborn calf, but glanced up and smiled when he entered the barn. Kneeling in the straw, feeding the animal with a large baby bottle, she explained that the calf was one of twins and had been rejected by its mother. Once again Travis found himself admiring her compassionate capable nature.

They exchanged a few pleasantries as she worked, and when she'd finished, he opened the stall gate for her.

“Thanks,” she said, walking over to the barn faucet where she washed and dried her hands. “So what can I do for you?”

“Do you have time to talk for a few minutes?”

“Why?” she asked bluntly.

“Well, I'm a writer,” he explained, “and I'm working on a project that has to do with this area.”

“All right,” she told him, “but I haven't got time to stop now. I need to go out and check the fence line. Tag along if you want.”

“I'd enjoy that.”

It wasn't until Nell led a gelding out of his stall that he realized she didn't intend to use the truck. Travis had ridden before—in Central Park. Years ago.

“You're going on a horse?” This probably wasn't the most intelligent question he'd ever asked. But he had to weigh his decision; on the one hand, he wouldn't mind some Western riding experience and it would be a chance to talk to her. On the other, he didn't want to risk looking like an idiot in front of a woman he found
very
attractive.

“You don't ride?” she asked in a voice that suggested she should have thought of that herself. She expertly placed the saddle on the gelding's back.

He hesitated before he answered. “A little.”

“You're welcome to join me if you want. I've got Jake's saddle and you'd fit that comfortably.”

“Is Jake's horse still around?” He figured that would have to be an older horse, which could only help his situation.

“Yup.”

“Does he take to strangers?”

“Some.”

“That's encouraging.”

Nell tossed back her head and laughed, her long braid swaying. “Come on. It'll be fine.”

Within minutes she'd brought a huge quarter horse out of his stall. Travis watched her saddle him, amazed at her ease with animals.

“Twister, meet Travis,” she said, handing him the reins.

Travis found it amusing that she'd introduce the horse to him and not the other way around.

She led the two geldings outside into the sunlight. With a swift graceful motion, she mounted. “Do you need help getting up?” she asked when he stood there, unmoving.

He tried to look as if the question had insulted him; actually he wouldn't have objected to her holding the reins while he swung his leg over the saddle. With a mighty effort he did manage to scramble onto Twister—appreciating the fact that Nell didn't laugh at him.

As they started out, she set a slow easy pace, for which Travis was grateful.

“You wanted to ask me about the area?” she reminded him.

“Yeah,” he said jerkily as his butt bounced against the saddle. “Te-ll m-e wh-at you kn-ow abou-t the gh-ost town.”

Nell eased to a stop. “Ghost town?” she asked, frowning.

Twister, following the other horse's lead, stopped, as well. “If I remember correctly, it's called Bitter End.”

“That's why you're here?” she asked. “Why you came to Promise?” She nudged her horse into a trot. “I thought you were a writer!”

“Yeah.” Travis managed to keep pace with her, but not without a price. If he survived this with all his teeth intact…“I am. And I w-want to—”

“Who told you about Bitter End?” she asked, stopping her horse again. The warmth she'd shown him had cooled noticeably. “You're from New York,” she said. “You know Richard Weston, don't you?”

“I met him once, yes, but, Nell—”

“What did he tell you about Bitter End?” she demanded. “We were afraid of this,” she muttered, not looking at him. “Everyone was.”

“Afraid of what?”

“It doesn't concern you.”

“Nell, if you'd give me a chance to explain.” He shifted in the saddle, wishing he could touch her, reassure her in some way.

“You've already said everything I need to know. You're a friend of Richard's—”

“No, I'm not! Don't even think that. I met the man
once,
Nell. Just once. For a couple of hours. But it only took me a couple of minutes to see the kind of person he is.”

That brought her up short. Her gaze returned to him, cautiously, as if she wasn't sure even now. But he could see she wanted to believe him, wanted to trust him. He yearned for that as much as he did her kisses.

“Valerie, my ex-wife, defended him—she was his state-appointed attorney. Richard mentioned the ghost town to her, and she told me. I was intrigued. A ghost town from the Old West, one that's basically undiscovered and hasn't been commercialized. I wanted to see it for myself, as background for a project I'm working on.”

Nell said nothing. Then she said, “So you came all this way because of Bitter End?”

“That's what initially brought me here. Yes.” But he liked the people of Promise, especially Nell and her family.

“Now I suppose you're looking for some one to take you there?”

“Yes—I want to see the town.” He wanted to learn the history behind it, too. It was more than just a ghost town, if what Weston said was true, and Travis was hoping to unravel its secrets, include them in his book.

“I'm afraid you've made a wasted trip.”

Her unwillingness to help him took him by surprise.

“I won't take you to Bitter End. And no one else will, either.”

She sounded stubborn about it, but he could be stubborn, too. “I'm going there,” Travis said. “I'll find it, Nell. Others have and so will I. But I'd rather we did it together.”

“I can't…I won't. You don't understand.”

“Then explain it to me.”

“That town has done nothing but bring Promise grief. We just want to forget about it.”

“What aren't you telling me?” he asked.

His question seemed to catch her off guard. She was silent for a long time; when she spoke again, it was with the seriousness of a woman who knows more than she wants to. “Nothing good has ever come out of that place. Nothing. The best thing for you is to forget you ever heard it mentioned.”

“You've been there?”

“No,” she admitted reluctantly.

“Then how do you know? Who told you? How many people have actually been in the town?”

Nell shrugged, not answering him.

“Then how can you be so sure if you've never been there yourself?”

“Everyone knows,” she whispered.

“But you've found out where it is?”

She hesitated. “I have a vague idea where it might be.”

“Where?”

Nell made a sweeping motion with her arm. “It's out there somewhere. Exactly where, I couldn't tell you.”

“And even if you could, you wouldn't.”

She nodded.

“This is a historic site. Doesn't anyone understand that?”

“Bitter End?” Nell laughed without amusement. “Why is it so important to you?” she asked again.

“Curiosity, mainly,” he told her. “Like I told you, I'm a writer and I'm using a ghost town in my book. I wanted to make it as authentic as possible. I'm also intrigued by the mystery.”