The Last Cowboy In Texas (21 page)

“Yes. You noticed her missing, too?”

“I did. I figured she was out in the lobby talking to friends, but looking around, all her friends are in here. So where is Paige?”

“I don’t know. But if she’s not coming back to wish the happy couple good health, I’ll have a word or two with her. That is not acceptable etiquette in my book.”

“Nor in mine. We raised our girl better than that. And that raises the hackles on my neck. What if she went outside and was abducted?”

“Surely not here in downtown Branson, Ozzie. I can’t imagine a thing like that.”

“Neither can I, but what other explanation is there?”

Cil shook her head. “I don’t know, but it worries me. Let’s go home and see if she’s there. Maybe she got sick or something.”

“I’ll give her a ring on my cell phone.” He pulled it out and used his speed dial. No answer and no ‘leave a message’ reply, either. Paige’s phone was offline.

“No answer, and her phone is off. That probably means she’s upset at something.”

Cil shook her head again. “Probably. I wonder what it is this time. Let’s go outside and see if we can spot her car. If it’s still here, she’s not too far away.”

They stopped beside the Kingfishers and shared their well wishes. Then they went out and looked through the parking lot. The Volvo was nowhere to be seen. Ozzie said, “She isn’t here, Cil. Her car is gone. I’m going back in to see if by chance
Troy
knows anything. Then we’ll go home.”

* * *

Troy
had spent the last hour worrying about Paige. She’d been totally sweet during the ceremony and immediately after. Then she’d left him high and dry. When they went to the wedding dinner, she had deliberately seated herself on the other side of Missy, so he couldn’t talk to her. That hadn’t bothered him. She was still upset, and he’d begun to realize that she had a point. He and her parents had interfered in her affairs.

Still, he figured she just needed a little time to cool down and she’d understand that they’d done her a big favor. But after she headed for the restrooms and didn’t return, he had a feeling that something was amiss. Paige was not one who would duck out on the wedding couple without a word of congratulations. Something was wrong.

Just as he started for the main door, he saw Ozzie returning from outside. “Mr. Turner, have you seen Paige?”

Ozzie shook his head. “No. I was hoping you’d have an idea where she went.”

“No clue. She was very friendly during the wedding, but pretty cool after. I think she’s still upset that she didn’t get to submit her writing herself.”

“So I heard from her mom. Well, she’s a big girl. She’ll get over it.”

“I hope so. I asked her to marry me last night, and she said yes. But then she found out about her new contract and went ballistic. She kept the ring, so I think we’re still a go, wedding-wise.”

Ozzie laughed. “A go, huh? I love the way you young folks phrase things these days. For what it’s worth, I sure hope you’re a go. Cil and I always figured you two would end up together. Now that she’s going to be a published author, she’ll want to settle down with you and have some kids. Nothing like raising a family to keep you well grounded.”

“Yeah. I want kids. I want Paige’s kids. One or a dozen, it doesn’t matter to me so long as they’re hers.”

“Now that sounds like true love. First, we’d better find her, though.”

Troy
followed the Turners home, hoping to settle things with Paige. They found the house unoccupied. When Cil returned from upstairs, she faced them with a frown. “She’s gone. Her bags are gone, along with some of her clothes. She left the bridesmaid dress for Aggie to take back. No note. No explanation where she’s gone to.”

She began to cry as she dropped onto a settee, holding her face in her hands. Ozzie went to her, trying to comfort her as best he could.
Troy
stood across the room, watching and wondering what had happened in this normally happy domicile.

He cleared his throat. “She’ll call as soon as she gets to wherever she’s going. I’m sure of it. We’ll just have to wait her out, I’m afraid.”

Ozzie turned to him. “You’re probably right. Paige marches to her own drummer. I just hope she’s not marching over a cliff as we speak.”

“Paige? She’s the most level headed person I know. No way is she going to do something stupid, Mr. Turner.”

“Ozzie, my boy. Formality is the last thing we need at a time like this.”

“Yes, sir. Anyway, if you want, I can take a drive and search for her. Surely, she’s around these parts somewhere.”

“That won’t be necessary,
Troy
. She’ll contact us when she’s ready. My guess is, she’s doing this to teach us all a lesson in how not to meddle. And I must confess, I feel guilty for doing what we did. I should have handled the publishing thing differently.”

Cil wiped tears from her eyes and scowled at him. “You mean,
we
could have done it differently. It’s really my fault for sneaking a look at her writing in the first place. When she found out about that, she was really upset but got over it pretty quickly. That’s why I didn’t hesitate to go forward with it. I truly thought she’d understand and approve.”

“As did I.” Ozzie shook his head. “Well, what’s done is done. Now we’ll have to wait for her to surface.”

Troy
said, “I hope it’s soon. I want to tell her how much I love her, and that I want to marry her. After today, I can’t wait to walk down the aisle with her.”

Cil got to her feet and pulled
Troy
into a bear hug. “We all want that day, darling. And it will happen. Paige loves you so much, she’d never even look at another man.”

“I hope not. Well, I’d best get on home, on the off chance she did leave a message for me there, I’ll call and let you know.”

They went out onto the porch to wave goodbye to him, standing arm in arm. He waved back and beat a path to his house, where he found no note. No message on the phone. Nothing. He didn’t have the heart to call the Turners with bad news. Besides, he figured they’d not expect a message that wasn’t good. In the morning, he’d begin a search if she still hadn’t turned up.

* * *

It was raining when Paige awoke. Not a downpour but a steady stream; the kind of rain Cil loved to have for her flowers. Her chest tightened as she thought about her mom. Tempted to pick up her phone and call, she held back. There were many more miles to put between her and her past before she sent any kind of message to anyone.

When she was ready, she’d reassure them that she was okay. Would she also send word to
Troy
? Her breath caught in her throat as his image floated through her mind. The man she’d always loved, but one so bull-headed he made her want to scream. Yes, she’d send him a message all right. She knew exactly what she wanted to say to him.

Maybe, in a year or two, she’d regret what she was about to do, but it was what she had to do. No turning back now. And no regrets for what had to be done.

She returned to the same restaurant for a quick breakfast sandwich and then she was off. Heading south and west, again on secondary roads that required lower speed but offered less chance of being spotted, even in a car that was rare in these parts.

Her destination was near
Tyler
,
Texas
. A private little lake, with a dozen homes scattered along its banks. One home, a short distance from the entrance to the lake, was where she was headed. Built originally as a grand prize in a national contest, the photos showed that it had several levels and lots of privacy for its residents.

The couple, Marybeth and Wilson Werner, who presently owned the home, were published authors in their own right. Older than Paige by a couple of decades, they’d dedicated their lives to fostering good fiction writing. The retreat was a brainchild they’d developed over several years. To be accepted for residency, one had to have completed at least two manuscripts and have a viable chance at publication. She certainly fulfilled those requirements. The other one was that the resident had no obligations such as family. Well, she fitted that to a tee. Especially now.

She rolled into
Tyler
just past noon and took a slow tour of the town, getting her bearings. After a stop at a fast food haven, she located the road that led to the retreat and headed east. She’d picked up a few snacks when she’d stopped for gas earlier in the day. One thing she was not sure of was food arrangements at the retreat. It was several miles out to the lake, not too far but clumsy if you were one who wrote and ate simultaneously. She’d never done that, but thinking about it had an appeal all its own.

As she pulled onto the long drive, she tingled with anticipation. And a bit of apprehension, as well. She had the brochure on the seat, but what if they had no vacancies. Dropping in unannounced was not the best way to handle this kind of thing.

Before she got out of the car, a middle aged woman who bore a strong resemblance to the woman in the brochure, walked up to the driver’s side of the car. Paige lowered her window and smiled. “Hello. You must be Marybeth Werner.”

The lady smiled back. “Guilty as charged. And you are?”

“Paige Turner. Don’t laugh, please. That’s my real name, thanks to my parents.”

The woman cackled. “Well, if you’re a writer, you have got the right name for sure. And for what it’s worth, if a writer’s what you are, you’re in the right place.”

Paige got out and shook hands. “I am a writer and I hope you have an opening for me. I have the brochure you sent me last spring. Sorry I didn’t at least call you ahead of time but I’m here under unusual circumstances.”

“Kicked out of your home? Anything like that?”

“Not exactly. Let me explain and I think you’ll understand. But first, do you have any openings?”

Marybeth nodded, her smile brightening. “I already like you, Paige. No nonsense, and you’re pretty as a picture, I swear. Yes, we have an opening at the moment. Did you read the part about the cost of residency?”

“I did, and I’m prepared to pay whatever you need. I just received a contract from a major publisher for four historicals, and I need a place where I can concentrate on getting them done. I have three completed, other than rewrites, edits, and such. The fourth is in progress but not yet complete.”

“Well, you’re sure a lot further along than most of the folks who come here. We try to offer whatever assistance we can in getting’ your work accepted. Since you’ve already done that, you’ll probably want a lot of quiet time to work. Ya bring clothin’ with you?”

“Yes. I packed enough for a week or so. I figured I’d shop nearby for anything else I need. I did wonder about food.”

Marybeth laughed. “Food, I guess. We have two options on food. One, you can cook for yourself in your apartment. It’s fixed up with a small range and oven, sink, fridge, and a nuke box. Or, you can pay an additional fee, and good old Dub Dub‘ll cook the most delicious southern food you ever bit into.”

“Dub Dub?”

“My husband, Will. I’ll let him explain that one himself. Anyhoo, you’ll not starve while slavin’ away over your manuscripts.”

“Southern sounds good, though I’ve never been south of
Missouri
before.”

“Guess I shoulda asked where you’re from, Paige.”

“My folks live in a little town near Branson.
Flanders
. Dad is editor and owner of the paper there and I worked for him as a reporter and assistant editor.”

“Your mom work?”

“No. Well, yes, at home she does. My parents are very traditional, so Mom keeps house and Dad earns the money.”

“Nothin’ wrong with traditional, dearie. They sound like very practical people.”

“Very. I love them dearly, but I’m closing on thirty and need my own space.”

“Well, you’ve surely found it here. Why don’t I give you a quick tour of the place and show you where your apartment will be?”

“Sounds good. I’d like to get settled in today so I can begin writing in earnest tomorrow. Are there any formal classes you require?”