The Rancher's Christmas Bride Page 7

  “Can you get this thing started and follow me to Essie’s?” he asked.

  “Of course. I got it to town, didn’t I?”

  He laughed a little. “Yeah, you sure did. And got yourself pulled over. If you’d called me, I would have given you a ride to town.”

  “You have your own stuff to take care of. And I need to learn to drive this thing. I talked to my grandfather. They’re going to send him home today and I’ll need to be able to pick him up.”

  “Not in this truck you won’t. Not only is it not licensed, but it wouldn’t make it to Killeen.”

  “What about the old sedan behind the trailer?”

  “No battery and I doubt it’s in any better shape.”

  “I’ll call a taxi,” she insisted.

  “Let’s just get something to eat and we’ll discuss this later.”

  Because she was hungry, she gave in. “I’ll follow you.”

  “Good thinking.”

  She watched him walk away, then she started the old farm truck, pumping the gas when it tried to cut out on her. As Alex pulled back onto the road, she eased off the clutch and prayed the stupid thing wouldn’t die. It didn’t. She smiled as she turned down Main Street, victorious over the old Ford.

  Essie’s café was a tan, metal-sided building attached to the local farm-supply store. Farm trucks, sedans and SUVs alike were parked in front of the café. In a nearby parking lot cattle mooed from inside a livestock trailer hooked up to a truck.

  Alex got out of the truck and motioned her to join him. She grabbed her purse and followed. As they headed for the diner she heard a rustling sound and turned just as a pig ran down the street, a small dog running along next to it.

  “Please tell me that wasn’t a pig?” She shook her head. “And a three-legged poodle?”

  He chuckled as his hand went around her arm and he guided her toward the steps. “That was indeed a potbellied pig. And his buddy, Patch. They belong to Homer Wilkins. Homer can’t seem to keep the two of them inside. Or they wear him down and he lets them out. No one is sure which and the city council has a heck of a time dealing with it.”

  She followed him inside the café and it seemed that all conversations ceased at their arrival. The silence lasted only seconds, then the steady hum of voices picked back up.

  “Hey, Alex, have a seat and I’ll be with you in a few,” the dark-haired waitress called out as she rushed to a table with several plates. “Aunt Essie is in the kitchen. She’s fixing the sprayer on the sink.”

  “Does she need help, Libby?” Alex asked the waitress. She was probably in her late twenties, with her long hair in a ponytail and an obvious baby bump.

  “I don’t think I’d go in there if I was you.” Libby headed toward the table Alex had guided Marissa to. On her way she picked up a coffeepot. “You won’t believe what Bea has done. She tried to make tea by taking off the sprayer and shoving tea bags in the faucet. She said it just made sense to her that if you turned on the hot water that would work. You could spray tea into glasses and never have to make a pot of tea again.”

  “She didn’t really do that, did she?” Marissa blurted out before she could stop herself. “I’m sorry.”

  Libby grinned. “Oh, she did. Bea is a sweetie and she can cook just about anything, but she can get herself in trouble if you don’t keep watch over her. You must be Dan’s granddaughter! I bet he is just tickled pink to have you in town.”

  “I don’t think tickled would be the word,” Alex said. “And I think I’ll take your advice and stay away from the kitchen.”

  The door to the kitchen pushed open and a middle-aged woman shuffled out. Tears were streaming down her rounded cheeks. She wore a bright, floral-patterned dress, brown shoes and blue socks. She brushed the tears away and yanked the hairnet off her head.

  “I’m quitting because she’s mean,” she sobbed as she looked back at the kitchen door. “You’re just angry because it didn’t work.”

  “And that is Bea, the woman who should be cooking everyone’s breakfast.” Alex got up from the table. “I’m going to see if I can’t put this fire out.”

  “Alex, your aunt is mean.” Bea grabbed a napkin from a table. “And she doesn’t like me anymore.”

  Alex took hold of the older woman’s arm and led her to their table. She sat, giving Marissa a suspicious glare. “Is she your sweetheart?”

  Alex turned a little red around the ears. “No. She’s Dan Wilson’s granddaughter.”

  “That don’t mean she isn’t your sweetheart. You can’t account for taste. Have you seen that silly dog and that pig? What the good Lord joins together let no man put asunder. I think that’s how God works. He puts together the most unlikely. If you get married, can I bake the cake?”

  Alex groaned. “Bea, we aren’t getting married. I’m taking Marissa to see her grandfather. I’m just being neighborly.”

  “Hmm. That isn’t nice. Shame on you. My mama told me once about Mr. Carson being neighborly and I seen his car parked in front of Nora Jeffries’s house...”

  Marissa burst into laughter and that earned her a glare from Bea and a warning look from Alex. Before either could comment, the door to the kitchen opened again and this time an older woman with long, graying dark hair hanging in a single braid walked out. She didn’t look at all pleased as she headed toward their table.

  “Bea, I got the tea bags out of the faucet. Don’t ever do that again. I know you have some very good ideas, but next time will you please tell me your good ideas so I can tell you if it will work.”

  Bea nodded. “Yes, Miss Essie, I’m sorry. Now I’ll go cook. If you don’t mean to fire me. And you can explain to Alex, because he is your nephew, that being neighborly is a sin. My mama said so.”

  As Bea left, Marissa felt heat crawl up her neck and her stomach chose that moment to growl loudly.

  “I should go after her and correct her, but I’m just too tired.” Essie smiled at Marissa. “Don’t let her bother you. She’s just Bea and we all love her and take what she says with a grain of salt.”

  “Of course,” Marissa responded.

  Essie’s gaze slid to Marissa. “How long are you planning on staying in town?”

  With her coffee cup midway to her mouth, Marissa paused. How long? She hadn’t really thought it through. She’d left the wedding knowing that she had to go somewhere else and for some reason it had seemed like a good idea to come here, to see her grandfather. And the longer she stayed, the less she wanted to leave.

  This town. These people. They might be exactly what she needed to get over the humiliation of her failed wedding.

  She spied a Christmas tree in the window of the café, and in the distance she thought she heard church bells. For the first time in a long time, she felt at peace.

  * * *

  Alex watched the expressions that flitted over Marissa’s face. First she’d been embarrassed and then maybe a little bit cornered. Now she looked like a woman contemplating a life change. Not that he blamed her. He knew how it felt to come home and face people his family had hurt. He knew how it felt to be whispered about.

  He guessed that’s what she had to look forward to when she returned home. Fortunately she’d have an easier time getting lost in the crowd in Dallas. In a town the size of Bluebonnet, everyone knew everything about everybody.

  “I’m just staying a week. Or maybe two,” Marissa finally answered. “I want to make sure my grandfather is well enough to take care of himself.”

  “Dan’s been taking care of himself as long as I can remember,” Essie replied without censure. She turned her attention to Alex. “And you. Friday is the carnival fund-raiser for the children at the shelter. I think there are six little ones we’ll be buying gifts for. And the rest of the money we raise will go in the shelter fund. You said you’d help.�
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  “I will. I’m bringing the pony. We’ll give rides and also let the kids pet him.” Alex glanced at the menu. “Could we order before Marissa passes out from hunger?”

  His aunt laughed. “I heard her stomach rumbling. Yes, give Libby your order. I need to make some phone calls. I have about half a dozen people setting up craft booths for the festival. I need to return phone calls and arrange for Walt Smith and his friends to play music.”

  “I know you’ll let me know what I need to do,” Alex said as he poured sugar in his coffee.

  “Yes, I will. And you can start by calling your twin brother and asking him to come home soon. I know he is having a good year and making a lot of money, but he hasn’t been home for a long time.”

  “I can’t control him.” Alex hoped she would leave it alone. He didn’t want to have uncomfortable family conversations in front of a woman who didn’t need to know all of their secrets.

  If she stayed in town and listened to gossip, she’d find out soon enough. She’d learn that his father had been nothing but a con man who bilked money from the good men and woman of Bluebonnet. Soon Marissa and the rest of the folks in town would also learn that if he couldn’t find the money, the Palermo ranch would be auctioned on the county courthouse steps.

  Essie patted his arm. “You can’t fix it by worrying about it.”

  Alex nodded and hoped she’d let it go. Fortunately Libby appeared, order pad in hand. As his aunt departed, she sat down and propped her feet up on a chair he scooted close for her.

  “When are you going to have that baby?” he asked.

  “From the way I feel right now, could be any second.” She reached for the glass of water Alex wouldn’t drink. “I’m so glad you always let me give you a glass of water. You’re my favorite Palermo.”

  “You know that isn’t true.”

  She gave him a serious look and then turned her attention to Marissa. “He fixed our tractor and didn’t charge us. No way could we have gotten our hay crop in last fall without his help.”

  Alex tugged at his collar. “Stop.”

  “But he doesn’t like for people to know what a decent guy he is.”

  “Yeah, that’s me. So, could I have biscuits, gravy and a couple of fried eggs?” Alex looked over at Marissa. “What would you like?”

  “The same. And more stories about Alex.”

  “Stop,” he ordered.

  Libby got up and laughed as she walked away from the table. “I’ll refill your coffee in a minute.”

  “The carnival and fund-raiser are to buy Christmas presents for kids at the shelter and around the community. This time of year it seems there is more need. The community likes to make sure the children are taken care of at Christmas,” Alex explained.

  “That’s wonderful. I’d like to be involved if I’m here. I love that Christmas is important to the people in town.”

  “You won’t have plans of your own with your family?”

  “No. Not since...” She stopped herself. “It isn’t. There are just the three of us. Some years we visit my father’s family and other years we go away on a vacation.”

  It sounded lonely but he didn’t say that. “What did you start to say? Since what?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. We used to attend church on Christmas. Things were different when I was younger.”

  He was left wondering what she’d meant to say and why things had changed for her family. He knew he should leave it alone. Knowing her stories put him much more firmly into her life. And that was the last place either of them needed him to be.

  They were almost finished eating when Marissa’s phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID, silenced the ringer and finished her last bite of food. It rang again almost immediately.

  “You should probably answer it,” he offered.

  “I’d rather not.”

  “Why is that?” he asked.

  “Because I don’t want to be lectured. I don’t want to hear that I’ve let them down. I try very hard to always do what is expected and what makes them happy and I had no control...” She stopped talking. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

  He was sorry, too, because of the hurt he saw in her eyes. And because he couldn’t find a way to distance himself.

  “You don’t have to apologize,” he told her.

  Her words had tumbled out as if she hadn’t expected to say them and he got the feeling she’d never said them to another living soul. Not exactly a helpful realization for a guy who didn’t want to get this involved.

  “No,” she answered with hesitation. “I guess I don’t have to apologize. Not to you. But I do need to apologize to my parents. If you don’t mind, I’ll step outside and call them back.”

  “Go ahead. I’ll pay the bill and be out there in a minute. If you want, we can take Dan’s truck back to his place and then I’ll drive you to the hospital to see him. I’ll even drive Dan’s truck back to the farm and you can drive mine if you want.”

  That offer elicited a smile from her. But still she shook her head.

  “You have a life and I’m sure things you need to do.”

  He did. But he couldn’t very well leave her on her own.

  “Make your call and then we’ll go see Dan.”

  Alex was pouring himself another cup of coffee when Duncan Matthews, the pastor of the Bluebonnet Community Church, arrived. Alex motioned him to his table.

  It had taken a lot of years for Alex to trust anyone associated with ministry. He guessed a lot of people in the area felt that way after having been victims of Jesse Palermo’s brand of religion. The Church of the Redeemed had been a cult with Jesse as the leader, controlling lives, controlling finances and abusing his family. Duncan Matthews had shown up in town a couple of years ago and he’d slowly but surely started the process of renovating the church and helping people heal.

  “Is that Dan’s granddaughter out there on the phone?” Pastor Matthews asked as Alex filled his coffee cup.

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “She’s crying.”

  Alex started to swear but an amused look from the pastor caused him to swallow the words. Instead he carried the coffeepot back to the warmer and returned to the table, where he sat down, stretching his legs in front of him as he nursed his third, or maybe fourth, cup of coffee.

  He wasn’t going to her rescue.

  “You’re not going to check on her?” Pastor Matthews asked.

  “It’s a private conversation.” And none of his business. He didn’t want it to be his business.

  Libby approached, her hand supporting her back as she looked less than happy. She sat down and pulled a pen out from behind her ear. “Pastor?”

  “Libby, you look like you might want to go home and put your feet up.”

  “I think you might be right.”

  Alex happened to glance toward the front of the café, and when he did, he saw Marissa at the corner of the building wiping at her cheeks.

  “I have to go.”

  Pastor Matthews stirred creamer into his coffee. “I thought you might.”

  He let the comment slide. He’d known this woman less than a week and it seemed like a lot of people had let her down. He knew how that felt. And he didn’t want to be another person who let her down.

  It didn’t make sense but there was no way would he say it out loud.

  Chapter Seven

  Wednesday afternoon, Alex drove the twenty miles to his bank. He stood on the sidewalk of the business he’d used since he’d been old enough to save money. He didn’t usually take the time to think about what he’d wear or even what he’d say. He went in, deposited money, ordered checks—whatever needed to be done. Things were different today. There was a lot riding on this meeting.

  A
lot had changed since his conversation with Lucy. He’d found out that the ranch would be auctioned off if they didn’t come up with some money soon. Lucy’s husband, Dane, had offered to bail them out. Alex wasn’t crazy about that idea. Dane hadn’t gotten them into this mess, their mother had.

  He stepped into the bank. The tellers, the same women he would see each time he came to the bank, waved greetings to him. He nodded and headed past them.

  “Alex, come into my office.” Blake Adams motioned him into the glass-walled office at the back of the small bank.

  Alex followed, feeling less than comfortable with the situation. First, he knew how much money it would take to buy their half of the ranch. Second, he knew the amount their mother had borrowed and he couldn’t get over how she’d blown through that much cash.

  He sat down across from the middle-aged man, who always seemed genuinely interested in their lives. He’d probably lose that interest when he learned what was needed.

  “So, tell me what’s going on and how I can help.”

  Alex spilled the story, knowing it was no use holding back. Blake listened, took notes, nodded his head frequently and groaned as the details unfolded.

  When Alex was done, the older man steepled his hands and leaned back in his chair. He drew in a long breath and exhaled.

  “I hate this for you all,” he began. “That doesn’t mean we can’t do something. But it’s going to take cash on your part. I know you’ve invested in cattle, bucking bulls and your business. I’m not telling you to sell off any of that, but I am telling you to make some careful decisions. Also, make sure this is what your siblings want. Don’t take on a big mortgage if you’re going to be stuck doing this alone.”

  “And if we do nothing?”

  They both knew the answer to that question. If he did nothing, the ranch would be gone.

  “I don’t like the idea of you having to buy your mother’s half of the ranch, but if that’s what it takes to get you out of this mess, then I would probably do the same.”