What the Heart Wants (26 page)

She drew back. She'd been wrong—he'd be perfect for the part of Erasmus—a heartless charmer who'd sold his soul to the devil.

She gave him a stiff smile and withdrew her hand. “Thanks for the offer, but I don't think I'm cut out to be a California girl. Now, if you'll excuse me, I still have a few more things to pack.”

She walked to the door and opened it.

Early the next morning, she made her final trip out to search the bushes near the door for the
Retriever
.

A loud, carrying voice called her name from across the way—Sarah's mother. Mrs. Bridges waved a large tan envelope at her, and, without even scuffing her white espadrilles, stepped into the street, walked to the center line, waited for a car to pass, and proceeded to the curb.

Laurel focused on the familiar face, surprised at how happy she was to see her. Wearing a black-and-white print boatneck blouse over white slacks, Marilyn Bridges looked as sleek and stylish as always. Her wide ivory bracelet matched the flat hoops dangling from her ears, and her auburn hair must have been sprayed within an inch of its life.

Sarah's mother hadn't changed much in the past few years. Maybe her hair had a more metallic glint to it, but her skin, in contrast, seemed much smoother than Laurel remembered—almost rejuvenated. Botox? An acid peel? From what she'd seen on TV, everyone was doing it.

She gave Laurel a one-armed hug. “I noticed the
FOR SALE
sign is down. Hope you got a good price.”

What a relief to be able to talk honestly with someone. “Enough to pay off the last of Daddy's obligations and have some left over. The new people are buying most of the furniture too, but I've put my bedroom suite and a few other things in storage.” Things like Jase's clothes, which he never did pick up. “The rest of it, when you get right down to it, is just wood, paint, and fabric.”

“Who bought it? The Cokers?”

Laurel regarded her with in awe. “How did you know?”

“I saw some people in the yard one day last month when you were gone, and went over to get acquainted with them. You won't believe this, but Clovia and I were both Delta Gams at University of Texas.”

Laurel smiled. Typical. Sarah's mother knew the universe.

Mrs. Bridges lifted the envelope against the morning sunlight. “Could we go inside, Laurel? I have something for you.”

“Sure.” Laurel opened the door and led her guest into the kitchen so they could sit at the big round table and visit.

Mrs. Bridges glanced around the room. “It must be hard on you—to sell the house, I mean. You've lived here your whole life.”

Laurel shrugged. “Actually, Kinkaid House has become somewhat confining. Besides, I have a new job.”

“Yes, I've heard. Brownsville.”

“What about the dog?”

“Hugo is going with me. I'm hoping for a house, so he can have a yard.” It was strange how attached she'd become to the big guy. She wasn't sure she'd ever be comfortable around small, yappy dogs that wanted to jump on her, but her stolid, well-behaved Hugo had become an essential part of her life.

“Well, you're leaving at a good time. It's going to be pretty dull around here now that Johnny Blue has left town and the Fassbinder twins—Karen's divorced again—can't make fools out of themselves chasing after him anymore. I guess we'll all have to be satisfied with watching Dolph Jr. sneak across the street every morning for his rendezvous with Phyllis Pfluger.”

Laurel looked at her in surprise. “Johnny Blue? The one who starred in that outer-space doctor show a while back,
Quark Kent, MD
? He was in Bosque Bend?”

“Didn't you know? He was the good-looking young man staying with Pendleton Swaim. I thought I saw him at your house. You didn't recognize him?”

“He told me his name was Kel.” And he hadn't been at all like the brash young ensign who healed any and every malady with what looked like an oversized TV tuner, and, on the side, protected the universe from an increasingly preposterous parade of invading baddies.

Mrs. Bridge's brow tried to pucker. “I think Kel is his nickname. I heard Pen Swaim calling him that once when they were out in the yard.”

Laurel nodded to herself. Kel was a total chameleon—and predatory, to boot.

Mrs. Bridges lowered her volume as if someone might overhear. “Sweetie, I know it's none of my business, but what about Jason Redlander?”

Laurel shrugged. “Jase is gone. Every time he looked at me, he saw Daddy.”

“But Laurel, your father was more than just the worst part of himself. I'm not excusing what he did to those boys—it was unforgivable. But we should also remember all the good things he did.”

“Jase didn't feel that way.”

Mrs. Bridges opened the tan envelope. “I have a little gift for you before you leave. It's a collection of photographs from when you and Sarah were little. Our families had such a good time together.” She pulled out a picture. “Here you two are at the third-grade Christmas program. Remember?”

Laurel nodded. “Sarah and I wore dresses exactly alike and told everyone we were identical twins. We didn't understand that meant we had to look alike too.”

Mrs. Bridges laughed. “Our little princesses,” she said, spreading the photos out on the table. “I had copies made of all our pictures that have you or your parents in them.” She pulled a larger photograph out of the pile. “Look at this one. We're in our backyard for Fourth of July.”

Laurel's heart lurched as she picked up the photo Mrs. Bridges had laid in front of her. How happy Mama looked. And Daddy, usually so serious, had a wide smile on his face.

The two families always celebrated the Fourth with a barbecue in the Bridgeses' backyard. Sarah's father tended to the cooking while Daddy set up the fireworks. One year a Roman candle had landed on the Bridgeses' roof. Mama and Mrs. Bridges screamed, and then Daddy carried the garden hose up a ladder to put out the fire.

It was the best Fourth of July ever.

“I'll take them with me, Mrs. Bridges,” she said, sweeping the photos back into the envelope. “And thank you.”

Marilyn Bridges had given her father back to her—the best of him.

Laurel turned off the last air conditioner. The taxi she'd ordered from Waco would be here at two o'clock to take her to the airport.

Too bad she couldn't drive to Brownsville, but her little Escort needed extensive engine work before she could have driven it all the way to the Valley, so she'd donated it to a charity for children with terminal illnesses.

She'd emptied the refrigerator, the pantry, and the cupboards yesterday afternoon and cleaned the kitchen too, then visited every room in the house for the last time, even the storage area on the third floor behind the bedrooms. She'd expected to give just a quick look-see to her own room, bare to the floorboards now, but the second she'd stepped inside, memories of Jase flooded her mind.

Jase, sprawled naked on her bed and looking up at her with his dazzling smile and wicked eyes. Would she ever get over him?

She glanced at the bulging carry-on and the two wheeled suitcases she'd placed beside the front door. Hugo's travel kennel, the biggest one Walmart had in stock, rested beside them. Everything else—her books, the rest of her clothes—should have reached Brownsville yesterday.

Looking around the foyer, she suppressed a shiver. The house had become a stranger to her. Even the piano, which she'd had tuned last week, seemed to have developed an eerie echo.

Did she hear a car turn into the driveway? Looking out a front window, she saw a red Mercedes come to a halt halfway up the drive. A flame-haired woman got out of it.

Sarah!

Laurel raced to the door with an excited Hugo right behind her. “Your mother didn't tell me you were coming!”

“She didn't know. I wanted it to be a surprise, and Mom tells all. Now call off your monster dog, unlock the frickin' screen, and let me in.”

“Drama queen! As if you're afraid of Hugo!”

Sarah patted the big dog's head as she entered, and received a frantic tail wag in response. “I would be if I were up to no good. I think he's twice as big as when you got him.”

“He eats like a horse.”

“Good thing you've got a new job, then.” She caught Laurel in a quick embrace. “Nearly didn't make it. The maid ran late, Keith got called in for emergency surgery, and the traffic was hell. Had to get these to you, though.” She handed Laurel a tinfoil package. “They're chocolate chip cookies. The airlines don't serve anything but peanuts anymore.”

Laurel laughed and unrolled the tinfoil enough to peek at the cookies.

“I'm not sure they'll last until I board.” Delivering herself from temptation, she stuffed the package in the top of her carry-on. “Come into the kitchen and sit down. I can't feed you anything, but the refrigerator still makes ice cubes.”

“Cold water sounds perfect.” Sarah led the way down the hall and took a seat at the oak table while Laurel filled two paper cups from the faucet, then added ice.

Sarah guzzled her water, sighed, and leaned back against the chair. “How have things been going lately? Like with the good citizens of Bosque Bend?”

“You wouldn't believe it, but my relationship with the town seems to be a lot better now that they all know I'm leaving. On the other hand, Pendleton Swaim keeps trying to get in touch with me about the Kinkaid genealogy, probably for his new book about Garner's Crossing—as if I'd help with that—and I seem to have acquired a shadow.” Laurel swirled her ice in the cup and took another sip. “His name is Craig Freiberg, and he shows up wherever I go.”

“Mom's never mentioned him.”

“He's a banker, one of Jase's contacts. I even ran into him yesterday in the hallway of the title company when I went in to sign the final papers. I tried to laugh it off by saying something stupid about a man on the move having to get around, but all I did was make him nervous. He has one of those really pale complexions, and he turned red as a beet, blurted out that he came to the title company all the time for First National, then made a run for it.” She laughed. “It was funny, Sarah. He acted like he'd been caught spying on me.”

“Well, just so he doesn't follow you into the ladies' room.” Sarah went to the sink to refill her cup with water. “Hey, what's with the roses?”

“I haven't figured them out, but they're from Jase.”

“Was there a card enclosed?”

“Just
Love, Jase
.”

“That's pretty powerful, Laurel. Sounds like somebody's trying to get a message across to you.”

Laurel shrugged. “Too late. I've got a one-year contract with Brownsville. Anyway, I think he got his message across pretty darn well when he left town after he learned about Daddy.” She glanced at the wall clock. “I'd better get a move on. The cab should be here right about now. I'm supposed to be at the airport by four to go through security.”

“Relax. Taxis are always late.”

A honk sounded from the driveway.

“Oops. My bad.” Sarah rose from the table. “I'll go tell him you're coming.”

Laurel looked around the foyer one last time. The stairwell seemed naked with the family portraits gone—and they'd been the very devil to get down too, as if they didn't want to leave the house.

Sarah came back in. “I moved my car into the parking area and told the cabbie you'd be out in a minute. Anything I can help with?”

“Would you ask him to carry the kennel to the cab for me?” Laurel snapped a leash onto Hugo's collar.

Sarah nodded. “Yeah. I'll go tell him you need help.” She raced out of the house and returned immediately, followed by an older man wearing a shirt with the cab company logo embroidered above the pocket.

He made a motion as if tipping his hat at Laurel, but backed off at the sight of Hugo. “That dog bite?”

“I'll be handling him. Just put the kennel in the cab, and I'll get him in it. There won't be any problems.” At least she hoped there wouldn't be any. She'd had Hugo sleeping in the thing for a week.

“Whatever you say, lady.” He hefted the big cage and was out the door.

Laurel picked up Hugo's leash and grabbed the handle of her carry-on. “Well, I guess this is it.”

Sarah took charge of the remaining suitcases, one in each hand, and pushed the screen door open with her shoulder. “I'll carry these things out. You'll have your hands full protecting the driver from your big, bad dog.”

“Thanks. I'll just be a second.” She checked herself out in the hall mirror. Most people wore jeans when flying, but she still had enough of Mama in her that she'd opted for a nice summer dress.

But before she could step outside, Sarah had burst back in, her eyes wild, her cheeks flaming.

“He—he took your luggage from me and put them in the back of his car!”

“The cabbie?”

“No. It's Jase! Jase Redlander is out there, and he's arguing with the cabdriver, trying to pay him off and make him leave!”

Dropping her carry-on to the floor and handing off Hugo's leash to Sarah, Laurel hurried outside.

Jase's Cadillac was parked at the curb, blocking the driveway, and, just as Sarah said, her two big suitcases were sitting in his open trunk. She charged toward him. “Jase, give me back my luggage and go back to Dallas! Why are you here?”

Jase turned and gave her the dazzling Redlander smile. “Because I love you.”

“No, you don't!” She glared at him, wishing her hair was writhing Medusa snakes that would turn him to stone. “You just thought you did because you admired my father! And now that you know about Daddy, you don't want me anymore!” She started toward the driveway. “I'm getting my stuff out of your car and putting it in the cab!”