His Texas Wildflower (10 page)

“She's here to see me,” Bess said to the coworker, then grabbed Rebecca by the arm and quickly ushered
her out the open door. “Sadie's a sweet girl, but she loves to gossip. If you know what I mean.”

“Yes. I do,” Rebecca agreed, while wondering if this woman intended to tell her something about her aunt that she didn't want other people to hear.

On the west side of the building, two aspen trees shaded a long wooden picnic table. Rebecca took a seat on one side, while on the opposite Bess plopped wearily onto the wooden bench.

“Oh, my,” she said with a contented sigh. “That feels good to the ole feet. Been standing on them since five this morning.”

Amazed, Rebecca glanced at her watch. It was nearly eleven. “You've been at work since five this morning?”

“If the truth be known it was a little before. 'Course the boss don't count that. I have to start the biscuits and breakfast tacos. The working men want something they can eat on the go. Guess they don't have wives to cook for 'em.” She glanced at Rebecca and laughed. “I'm showing my age now, ain't I, honey? Wives don't cook nowadays.”

A vague smile crossed Rebecca's face. “I wouldn't know about that. I've never been a wife,” she admitted to Bess. And neither had her closest friends. Like her, they'd all been career women. As for her mother, Gwyn stayed as far away from the kitchen as possible.

“Well, you're not missing much. I know from experience. I had me a man once, but he was a no-account. Didn't like to work and didn't much like me when I tried to make him work. One day he lit out for richer pastures and never came back.”

The woman appeared completely casual about the
whole incident and Rebecca could only presume it had all happened way back in Bess's younger years.

“Oh. Did the two of you have children?”

“Two. A boy and a girl. After that I raised them myself.” She leveled a pointed look at Rebecca. “A woman has to do what she has to do, you know.”

Yes, Rebecca did know. Even though it had been through no choice of his own, her father had left her. And without him her world had changed. After his death, she'd decided to never cling to any man or depend on him for her happiness. And so far that pledge had kept her from a broken heart. But it had also prevented her from obtaining a lasting relationship. A man wanted to be clung to. A man liked to be needed. But so far she'd never met a man that could make her shake her independence.

Jerking her thoughts back to the present, she said to Bess, “You must be a very strong woman.”

Bess snorted. “Strong hell,” she muttered. “Half the time I was scared to death. But that's another story and you didn't come here to talk about me.”

“Actually, Jake Rollins told me where to find you. He said that you and my aunt were friends.”

Bess's eyes squinted a curious glance at Rebecca. “Jake, eh? You know Jake?”

To Rebecca's amazement she could feel her cheeks fill with a heated blush. Just saying the man's name was more than enough to conjure the memory of his kiss, the taste of it, and the wild, reckless urgings it had elicited in her.

“We…we've gotten acquainted.”

“You be careful of that one, honey. He's hell on wheels with the ladies.”

Unwittingly, her fingertips fluttered to her lips as
unaccustomed heat burned somewhere deep within her. As far as she was concerned the man was a potent elixir and the dose she'd taken last night still hadn't worn off.

“I'd already assumed as much,” Rebecca admitted, then attempted to steer Bess in a different direction. “Had you known my aunt very long?”

Bess took a few moments to mentally calculate. “Probably twenty years or more. That's when I first came to work here at Frank's. You see, she'd come in once a week and buy supplies. We never exchanged more than a few words until she happened to have a deck of cards in with her grocery items. I asked her what she was going to do with them. 'Cause it seemed out of character, her buying a deck of cards. She was a quiet, meek little thing always going around with her head down. She mostly dressed like a man. To keep from drawing attention to herself, I think. But then you probably already know all about that.”

Rebecca's head swung regretfully from side to side. “No. I'm sorry to say I know nothing about my aunt. I didn't even know I had an aunt until I learned that she'd passed away.”

“The hell you say!”

“It's true. And now I'd like to find out as much about her as I can. Did she ever speak of her family? Mention me?”

Bess's head swung grimly back and forth. “Gertie told me that she had family in Texas but she never talked about anyone in particular. I knew that her parents were dead and that she'd never been married. I asked her once why she never went back for a visit and she explained that she hated to travel and hated the city. Many a time, especially when Gertie wasn't feeling well, I wanted to
ask her why none of her family ever showed up here in New Mexico. But I didn't. I could tell she didn't want to talk about that kind of stuff and I respected her feelings. There's a hell of a lot of things I don't want to spill my guts about, either.”

Bending her head, Rebecca wiped a hand over her face. “Gertrude—Gertie was my mother's twin sister. I've only just learned this in the past three weeks. I don't know what happened between the two women, but my mother has kept these facts hidden from me. I was hoping that my aunt had confided in you and that you might be able to give me some answers about our family.”

In contrast to her gruff appearance, Bess reached over and gently patted Rebecca's forearm. “I'm real sorry, honey. I wish I could tell you more. Gertie and me were good friends for many years. We played cards every week together—just me and her. She didn't like to get out much, so I'd drive to her place. She was a lonely woman and for a long time—back when she was a lot younger—I urged her to get herself a man.” She paused and let out a mocking snort. “But I couldn't make much headway there. She could see what kind of shape Jim had left me in. So I wasn't exactly in the right position to argue the good points of the male race.”

“Was there ever anyone special in her life?”

Once again Bess shook her head. “Not that I know of. But there were times, from some of the sad sort of things she said, that I got the feeling there was a man in her life at one time. 'Course that could just be comin' from my imagination.”

“You never asked her outright?”

“Oh, yeah. Years ago, after she first came here I asked her if she'd ever had a husband or anything like that.

“She told me that men and her didn't mix. And all the time she lived out by Apache Wells, it's just been her and her critters. She might not have got along with men, but she surely loved animals. By the way, is anyone taking care of the ones she left behind? I figured whoever was taking care of her estate would find homes for them.”

“I'm taking care of them,” Rebecca told her. “At least for now, while I'm here.”

“Guess you'll be selling out,” Bess pondered out loud. “I can't picture a girl like you livin' way out there in the boondocks the way Gertie did.”

Selling the property had been Rebecca's intentions all along. But it seemed like the longer she stayed here in New Mexico, the less she warmed to the idea. In a small way, she felt she was beginning to know her aunt and that made everything about the place more important and special to Rebecca.

“I'm living there for now. I'm not sure for how long, though,” Rebecca told her, then added, “There is something you can tell me, if you would. What did my aunt look like? Was she petite and dark-haired?”

Bess frowned. “Why, no. Just the opposite. In fact, she looked a lot like you. Tall with blue eyes. Her hair was blond, too, only that darker kind—dishwater blond is what we used to call it. Why? That's not the way her twin sister looks?”

“No. My mother is a brunette and smaller in stature. That could only mean the two of them weren't identical twins.”

Bess tapped a thoughtful finger against her chin. “Gertie having a twin,” she mused aloud. “I still can't get over it.” She leveled a meaningful look at Rebecca. “If your mother couldn't bother to see her own sister laid
in the ground, then there must have been some pretty bad blood between them.”

Rebecca couldn't argue with that. Not when she'd been thinking the very same thing. It had been bad enough to learn that her mother had kept Gertrude a secret, but when Gwyn had refused to attend her sister's funeral, Rebecca's eyes had popped wide open. From that moment forward, her mother had taken on an entirely different image and in Rebecca's eyes it wasn't a nice one.

“You're probably right. But I—well, my mother doesn't want to talk about Gertrude.” With a helpless shrug, she gave Bess a grateful smile. “Thank you for telling me about her.”

Bess gave Rebecca's arm another pat. “Glad to do it, honey. If you get to hankering to talk again I live about a mile from here. Anybody can tell you how to find me.” She rose to her feet. “I'd better get back before Sadie gets restless and leaves the register to come looking for me.”

Rebecca thanked the woman again then bade her goodbye. As Bess walked back inside the building and Rebecca returned to the truck, her mind was spinning with the bits of information Bess had given her.

What did it all mean? Maybe they hadn't been twins after all, she thought. Maybe the two women had not really been sisters and that was why it had been so easy for them to go their separate ways? One or both of them could have been adopted. But why had her mother told her that she and Gertrude were twins?

None of it made sense and short of confronting Gwyn and demanding answers, she didn't know how she could ever get to the truth.

 

Three days later, Jake spent the morning and part of the afternoon branding calves that he and his two ranch hands, Trace and Jet, had rounded up from the river bottom. Quint, being the friend that he was, had driven over to help and other than a few kicked shins and a burned thumb on Jet's right hand, the work had gone smoothly.

Once the calves had been returned to their mamas, Jake had insisted the two hands take the rest of the day off. Being young and single, and looking for any extra time for fun, neither man had argued and the two had hightailed it to town.

As for Quint, he'd lingered long enough to help Jake unsaddle the horses and put away their equipment. After sharing a cold beer, the other man had left for home, where Maura was making a special meal for her parents, Fiona and Doyle Donovan.

As soon as Quint was gone, silence fell around Jake and with the solitude along came Rebecca's memory. Not that it took a silent moment to think about her, he reflected, as he stared pensively out at the grazing horses from his front porch chair. For the past three days, he'd thought of little else.

That kiss. Never had one little mouth-to-mouth moment affected him in such a way. He couldn't forget it. Couldn't stop wanting to repeat it. Kissing her had probably been a mistake. The whole incident had certainly been messing with his mind. Yet he had to admit he'd never tasted a sweeter mistake.

With an inward groan, he reached for his cell phone and flipped the instrument open. The other night, while he'd been helping Rebecca clean her kitchen, she'd given him her cell phone number. The fact that he'd been
carrying it around had been tormenting him, tempting him, while at the same time he'd been trying like hell to forget he had the precious combination of numbers. It had only been three days since he'd spent the evening with Rebecca and he didn't want her to get the idea that he was desperate for her company. He'd never been desperate for any woman. Not when there was always another woman willing and waiting to give him a bit of company.

Hell, who are you trying to kid, Jake? You're problem isn't what Rebecca might be thinking about you. The problem is what you're thinking about yourself. The urge to see the woman, hold her, kiss her again is clawing at your insides, tormenting your every waking moment. And just any other woman won't do.

Muttering a curse under his breath, Jake snapped the phone shut, closed his eyes and sucked in a harsh breath. What was coming over him? Was he turning into a sap?

With that thought he opened the phone and punched Rebecca's number before he could change his mind.

She answered on the third ring and from the faint swooshing noise in the background he could tell she was outside in the wind.

“Jake, how nice to hear from you,” she greeted him.

Like a cool drink of water after a long thirst, pleasure poured through him and curved the corners of his lips. “Have I caught you at a bad time?”

“Not at all. I'm painting the yard fence so I welcome the interruption.”

Painting the yard fence? That didn't sound like a woman with leaving on her mind. But then she could
just be sprucing up the place and getting it ready to put on the market.

Hell, Jake, it doesn't matter one way or the other. Eventually she'll go back to Houston and you'll go back to your old roving ways.

Shoving that thought away, he said, “Well, I've wound up my work for the rest of the afternoon and wondered if you'd like to come over to the ranch?”

She paused, but only for a second. “I was thinking you'd probably forgotten about the invitation.”

Forgotten? He could forget nothing about her or the words that had passed between them. If that was a romantic sap, then he'd fallen into that category.

“No. Just waiting for the right time. If you'd like to come I can be over to pick you up in about forty-five minutes.”

“If you'd give me directions I can drive it, Jake. There's no need for you to make such a long trip to pick me up.”

Rising from his chair, he started into the house. As he walked through the living room, he said, “I realize your old truck is fairly dependable, but I wouldn't like to think of you driving it through the mountains after dark.”