Trouble in Texas (19 page)

One eyebrow quirked. “Are you telling me that you’ve had your fun and now you’re through
with me?”

“Yes.”

He laughed. It was such a nice laugh that it was a shame that he didn’t use it more
often. And a shame that it ended too soon.

“Fair enough,” he said as he brushed the strand of hair from her forehead. “And for
the record, I didn’t expect you to make me breakfast or iron my shirt. I can do those
things for myself.”

“And the messed newspaper and entering my bathroom without knocking?”

“I have no excuse for those. I guess I’m just a guy.” He studied her, and for a moment,
she thought he was going to kiss her. Instead he dropped his arms and stepped back.
“Would it be too presumptuous of me to take you to breakfast? I’ll let you pay.”

She laughed. “In that case, I’ll iron your shirt.”

He ended up ironing his own shirt while she went back to the bathroom to fix her hair.
She had just stabbed in the last hairpin when he called to her. She walked
into the bedroom to find him standing in front of her dresser.

“Where did you get this?” he asked as he held up the silver chest she kept her few
pieces of jewelry in.

“My mother gave it to me when I turned sixteen. It was the only thing she took with
her from Miss Hattie’s.” She moved over to stand next to him. “Why?”

“Because my mother has one just like it.” Brant turned over the chest and pointed
to the engraving on the bottom. “Not only was it made by my great-grandfather, but
it was made in October of 1892. Over two months after he supposedly died.”

T
HE YOUNG WOMAN THAT GREETED
Elizabeth as she stepped off the henhouse elevator could only be described as cherubic.
Dark curly hair surrounded a round, chubby face with a button nose and big brown eyes.
At least, they were as big as saucers now.

“You’re related to Miss Hattie?” Starlet said in disbelief. “But you look just like
my old Sunday school teacher. She liked to wear them old maid suits too.”

Elizabeth could’ve easily ignored the comment if she hadn’t started having her own
doubts about her wardrobe. Suits that had once seemed professional and modest now
seemed hot, uncomfortable, and… frumpy. Just that morning at breakfast, she caught
herself envying a woman for her comfortable-looking jeans, western shirt, and cowboy
boots. Or maybe she envied the fact that the woman had caught Brant’s eye. The thought
of envying women Brant merely glanced at had her straightening her frumpy suit jacket
with a jerk.

“I’m Elizabeth Murphy,” she said as she held out a hand, “and you must be Starlet
Brubaker.”

The girl grabbed her hand and gave it an exuberant shake. “Yes, ma’am, I sure am.
It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve been working all morning on my audition. Minnie
already told me that I’d have to get past the head hen before I could stay.”

“About that, Starlet…” Elizabeth’s words were left hanging as Starlet charged across
The Jungle Room, her bright fuchsia prom dress slapping around her legs. She slipped
behind the baby grand piano, and the sound system clicked on. There was a squeal before
Starlet’s voice came through the speakers.

“Testing. Testing.”

The background track for “Someone to Watch Over Me” started, and Starlet moved around
the piano. She tried to sit up on it like Baby had, but ended up tearing a bigger
slit in her dress. While she examined the tear, she missed her cue and had to run
back over and restart the song. This time she skipped sitting on the piano and leaned
against it seductively instead. Her elbow slipped on the slick wood, and she almost
took a nosedive to the floor. She caught herself and was able to start the song in
the nick of time.

After only two notes, Elizabeth realized that Starlet didn’t need a microphone. Her
voice resounded off the low ceiling like a foghorn at high tide, and it took a strong
will for Elizabeth not to cover her ears. Starlet, on the other hand, didn’t have
a clue how she sounded. Her face was scrunched up in concentration as she belted out
the words.

Her performance was a complete antithesis of Baby’s. While Baby had the husky jazz
style down cold, Starlet just sounded like what she was—an awkward young woman with
no musicality whatsoever.

Still, Elizabeth smiled brightly and applauded when she was finished.

After returning the microphone to the stand and turning off the sound system, Starlet
walked back with an apprehensive look on her face.

“What did you think? It’s a little out of my range, but Baby says I’m improving every
time I sing it.” She clutched her hands to breasts that spilled over the top of her
too-tight dress. “So can I stay? I promise to work harder than any hen in the history
of the henhouse. Minnie already says I have plenty of potential.”

Elizabeth stared at the young girl and understood why Brant hadn’t been able to kick
her out. She looked a lot like a pitiful puppy at the pound with her big, pleading
eyes.

“It’s not about potential, Starlet,” she said. “It’s about the fact that Minnie had
no business inviting you here. The henhouse doesn’t even belong to her, and it won’t
belong to me after next week.”

“I know that,” she said as she flopped down on the couch and hugged a fur pillow to
her chest. “The Cates brothers are going to buy it.” Her eyes glazed over. “Have you
ever seen eyes as blue?” she breathed. “They’re the color of the pretty gem ring my
mother got from one of her boyfriends.”

An image of Brant’s blue eyes looking back at her over the rim of his coffee cup popped
into Elizabeth’s head, forcing words to pop out of her mouth.

“Sapphire,” she said in a voice almost as awed as Starlet’s. “Brant’s eyes are sapphire.”

“Brant?” Starlet said. “I wasn’t talking about Mr. Cates. I was talking about Beau.”
She smiled slyly. “So you have the hots for Mr. Cates?”

“No!” The answer came out a little too quickly, and Elizabeth tried to recover. “Mr.
Cates and I are only business acquaintances.” Who’d had a little innocent fun. Wonderful,
body-sizzling fun. She cleared her throat, but it was harder to clear the images of
body-sizzling fun.

“Which brings us back to the subject at hand,” she said as she sat down next to Starlet.
“Miss Hattie’s is not going to reopen—at least, not as it was. Brant and Beau are
planning to open a men’s resort.”

Starlet looked confused for only a second before a knowing look entered her eyes.
“Of course, a
men’s resort
.” She leaned in closer to Elizabeth and whispered. “You think we’re bugged? Minnie
said we had to be careful about who we told because we didn’t want the feds on us.”
She sat back up, her eyes big and innocent as she spoke in an overly dramatic voice.
“Well, of course it’s going to be a men’s resort. Just like I’m here to visit the
place where my dear old great-grandmother used to work—as a maid.”

Suddenly, Elizabeth understood why Starlet’s grandmother had ended up on Broadway—overacting
must run in the family. She also understood why Brant didn’t want to deal with her.
The girl was determined to stay here, which meant Elizabeth needed to be more blunt.

“I realize how exciting it must’ve been for you to receive an invitation in the mail
from the infamous hens. But you can’t stay here, Starlet. I’ll help you pack your
bags, and Mr. Cates has offered to buy new tires for your car so you can get home
safely.”

The girl’s entire face drooped. “But I can’t go back to my hometown. I told them I
was headed to Broadway. I can’t go home until I’m as big as Starlet O’Malley. And
I just know if I get some polishing from the hens, I can do it.”

Elizabeth didn’t know what hen “polishing” entailed, but she had an idea. And she
couldn’t believe that Minnie would be so devious as to try to corrupt a girl this
young and naïve. Once she was finished explaining things to Starlet, she had a few
things to say to Minnie.

“This doesn’t mean that you should give up your dream,” Elizabeth said. “Mr. Cates
told me all about the talent shows you’ve won. It certainly sounds like you’re on
the right road to fame and fortune. But I think for now, you should head back home.
I’m sure your family and all your friends will be happy to see you.”

The look in Starlet’s eyes went from sad to downright terrified. She didn’t yell or
scream or throw a tantrum. She just got to her feet, looking as if Elizabeth had just
destroyed her entire world.

“No, they won’t,” she said. “They won’t because everything I told Mr. Cates was a
lie. I didn’t win any talent shows. I was just the fat girl in school that nobody
liked. The black sheep in a family of pretty, talented people.” She swallowed hard.
“I was just hoping that the hens could find something in me that no one else could.”

She turned and ran across the room, disappearing behind the large philodendron.

Elizabeth stared at the artificial plant and felt like she’d been kicked in the stomach.
Starlet’s painful confession brought back memories of her own childhood. She hadn’t
been overweight, but she had still been an outcast. The kid in grade school that no
one picked for kickball. The nerdy bookworm no one invited to prom. The old maid in
town who people thought couldn’t get a date without help.

She didn’t know what to say to Starlet to make her feel better, but she had to try.
Except when she got up and crossed the room, she didn’t find a young girl huddled
in the corner in misery. She found a doorway. And inside the doorway she found a stairway
leading up. Beau was standing on the first flight of stairs, his gaze following a
flash of bright fuchsia. When he noticed Elizabeth, he started down the stairs.

“I guess that Starlet didn’t take the news so well.”

“That’s putting it mildly.” Elizabeth continued to look up. “So where do these lead?”

“To the upstairs rooms. Each one has its own secret door in the closet. I guess there
are all kinds of hidden passages in the house. I’ve stumbled upon a few, but I think
the hens are keeping some to themselves.”

“So did you see what room Starlet was going to?” Elizabeth started to walk past Beau
and head up the stairs, but he stopped her.

“It’s been my experience with weepy women that it’s best to give them a little time
to themselves.”

If anyone knew how to deal with weepy women, Elizabeth figured it would be Beau. No
doubt the man had broken hearts from Texarkana to Amarillo. So she followed him back
into The Jungle Room and watched as he walked over to the bar and pulled out a bottle
of beer from the mini-refrigerator.

“I’m surprised Minnie lets you hang out here,” she said. “She told me it was hens
only.”

He pulled off his John Deere cap and flashed his megawatt smile. “Minnie made an exception,
seeing as how I’m going to be the new owner and all.” He walked over to the couch
and flopped down. “But I’ve got to tell ya, it could
sure use a big-screen TV. The Cowboys played today, and I had to sit in my truck and
listen to it on the radio. It just wasn’t the same, especially when Starlet kept sneaking
around staring at me like I was a freak show at the carnival.”

Elizabeth took a seat next to him. “She’s much better off with you than with the hens.
Hopefully, they haven’t corrupted her too much.”

“She’s nineteen,” Beau said. “I’m sure she’s learned more from reality television
shows than she could possibly learn from three old ladies.”

“So you think I should let her stay?”

He swallowed a sip of beer and shrugged. “I don’t see why not. Once she figures out
that the henhouse isn’t going to be as much fun as she thought it would be, I’m sure
she’ll head back home soon enough.”

For being so young, Beau was certainly logical. And since Elizabeth wasn’t looking
forward to any more tears, she figured it wouldn’t hurt to test Beau’s theory. At
least for a few days.

“Will you keep an eye on her?” she asked.

“Nope.” Beau shook his head. “One of the reasons I found the staircase was because
Starlet showed up in my room last night. She might be naïve, but she’s not shy. Besides,
Minnie’s not going to let anything happen to her. She’s already warned me about keeping
my distance.” He took a deep swallow of beer. “As if I have time to worry about women
when I have a business to get started.”

Elizabeth shot him a skeptical look. “And it looks like you’re working real hard on
that.”

He grinned. “Noticed that, did you? I’m afraid I’m not the worker bee my brother is.
I prefer to enjoy life to the fullest.”

“I’m sure cancer will do that to a person.” The words were out before Elizabeth could
stop them, and she quickly apologized. “I’m sorry, Beau. That’s none of my business.
Sometimes I speak before I think.”

Beau studied her in a way that was so much like his brother she couldn’t help but
blush. “That’s what I like about you, Elizabeth. You don’t mince words.” He rested
his head back on the couch. “Ever since I’ve been diagnosed, people have tiptoed around
the subject. My family still won’t use the word around me. It’s like if they say it,
it might make the cancer come back.”

“Maybe they are just worried about scaring you,” she said.

Beau snorted. “If that’s the case, it’s a waste of their time. I’m already scared
shitless.” He opened his eyes and stared at the Andy Warhol painting. “I have these
nightmares that the grim reaper is standing over my bed looking down at his watch,
just counting the seconds until he can suck the life right out of me.”

“So it’s not in remission?” she asked.

There was a pause where she thought Beau was going to lie, but then he glanced over
at her. “I don’t know. And I’ve decided that I don’t want to know. If it’s back, the
chances of me living to see my next birthday are slim to none, so why shouldn’t I
just enjoy whatever life I have left without going through the hell of treatment?”