Flirting with Texas (Deep in the Heart of Texas) (13 page)

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Authors: Katie Lane

Tags: #Fiction / Romance - Contemporary, #Fiction / Romance - Western, #Fiction / Romance - Erotica

BOOK: Flirting with Texas (Deep in the Heart of Texas)
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Sean gently ran a finger over the torn strap of the shoe.

And what good was a preacher man if he couldn’t bring a lost sheep back to the fold?

Chapter Twelve

M
ISS
H
ATTIE’S
H
ENHOUSE LOOKED LIKE
it belonged in the rolling hills of Kentucky rather than in the middle of the barren landscape of west Texas. Not only was Jenna surprised by the grandeur of the rambling house, but by the trees that surrounded it. Trees were a rarity in west Texas, and Jenna counted at least three huge cottonwoods on the property, their gnarled branches stretching out in cool billows of green.

“It’s pretty amazing, isn’t it?” Beau said.

She glanced over to find him slouched down in the seat, watching her—something he’d been doing for most of the hour-long trip. Jenna figured it was the western wear and hat. They were a big change from her city clothes. Still, it was very disconcerting. Especially when he seemed in no hurry to look away.

One of the front tires bounced down into a rut, and Jenna tightened her hold on the steering wheel and returned her eyes to the road. It had been like pulling teeth to get Beau to let her drive. Despite his carefree smile, he had a macho thing going on and a stubborn streak a
mile wide. But he didn’t have much of a choice. Moses’s truck was a stick shift with the stick on the side of Beau’s injured arm. Still, it had taken a jerky ride down the entire length of Main Street before he had finally pulled over to the curb and let her take the wheel.

Beau sat up and pointed. “Just turn in here.”

She turned into the circular, brick driveway and parked in front of the porch steps. “Are you responsible for the renovations?”

“I helped with the planning, but it was Minnie and her granddaughter, Elizabeth, who completed it.”

On the way out to Miss Hattie’s, Beau had explained how he had ended up owning the henhouse, and how Elizabeth Murphy, Bramble’s librarian, was related to a hen. And not just any hen, but Miss Hattie herself. Jenna still couldn’t quite believe it. Ms. Murphy had always been considered the town’s old maid. Not that she was that old. She was just so straitlaced and… boring. But according to Beau, Ms. Murphy wasn’t as straitlaced as Jenna had thought. She had led Beau’s brother a merry chase and now had a little boy and another child on the way.

Jenna put the truck in park and turned to Beau. “So these women—these hens—aren’t going to handcuff me to the bed like Ms. Murphy did with your brother, are they?”

Beau’s eyes were direct and serious. “If there’s any handcuffing done, I promise it will only be done by me.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” she said, “I won’t be staying that long.”

“That makes two of us.” He reached across his body with his good hand and pulled up the door handle. It seemed to be stuck, and Jenna didn’t hesitate to jump out
and run around to his side to help him out. Except when she finally got the door opened, he looked a little annoyed.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he grumbled. When he got out she noticed his stocking feet, which made her feel a little guilty for not inviting him to her house so he could clean up. His feet looked big enough to fit in her daddy’s boots.

“So why don’t you plan on staying long?” she said as they headed to the front porch. “You didn’t seem all that upset when the camper door opened.” She followed him up the steps, doing a double take at the large sign that stuck out of the flowerbed:

T
RESPASSERS
W
ILL
B
E
P
ROSTITUTED
.

“Because, during my many travels, I’ve come to realize that anger is a wasted emotion.” Beau pressed the doorbell. A rendition of “Deep in the Heart of Texas” chimed out.

“Spoken like a true spoiled playboy,” Jenna said. “I assume you feel differently about lust.”

He sent her a look that left her a little breathless. “Lust is never wasted. Not as long as there’s an opportunity for it to come to fruition—”

A pretty, dark-haired girl flung the massive door open. She took one look at Beau, and her brown eyes became the definition of lust.

“Beau!” She launched her ample body straight at him.

Pain tightened Beau’s features as the girl hit his injured shoulder with the force of a linebacker. He stumbled back, and they both would’ve tumbled right off the front steps if Jenna hadn’t reached out and grabbed the girl’s ugly satin dress and held her back long enough for Beau to catch his balance. Unfortunately, Jenna might’ve tugged a little too
hard. There was a loud rip, and she ended up with a strip of purple satin in her hand and the dark-haired girl at her feet.

“Geez, Jenna,” Beau hurried over and helped the stunned girl up, “do you always have to be so rough?” He tipped up the girl’s chin and smiled at her. “You okay, Starlet?”

Starlet didn’t answer. She just stood there staring at Beau as if he was the second coming.

Jenna rolled her eyes and tossed the piece of material down to one of the wicker rockers. “I’m not about to let you fall on your butt and dislocate your shoulder all over again. Not when you’re the worst patient this side of the Pecos.”

Beau’s smile dimmed. “You try being thrown from a bull and see how you feel.”

“I wasn’t thrown off a bull, but once I was thrown off a bronco, and it wasn’t that bad—”

Beau slapped a hand over her mouth. “Do you have any idea how you emasculate a man?”

Jenna glared at him while Starlet reached out and touched Beau’s shoulder. “You got thrown off a bull, Beau?”

“And it looks like trampled as well.”

Both Jenna and Beau turned to the doorway, where a scary-looking old lady in a maroon wig, red negligee, and more makeup than Twyla sat in a battery-powered wheelchair. Two women stood behind her. One with long, braided gray hair and dressed in bohemian-styled jeans and a peasant blouse. One who, despite the thick glasses, resembled Marilyn Monroe in heels, cropped jeans, and a midriff top.

“It’s about time you got yourself home, Beauregard
Cates,” the woman in the wheelchair said as she motored out onto the porch.

Beau smiled. It wasn’t as bright as his usual smiles, but somehow Jenna liked it much better. This smile seemed more genuine and sincere.

“You told me to come for a visit, Minnie.” He held out his arm. “So here I am.”

“Don’t give me that crap,” Minnie said. “I heard about what happened. And if it wasn’t for the crazy folks in Bramble, you wouldn’t be here.” She glanced over at Jenna. “Although I can’t seem to figure out how you became part of Jenna’s kidnapping.”

“Jenna was just giving me a little TLC after I got thrown from the bull,” Beau said.

“So she’s your girlfriend?” Starlet asked.

“No!” Jenna clarified. “I have a boyfriend.”

“Complete with nipple rings and hair as wild as Minnie’s,” Beau added.

The announcement had Starlet beaming, and Minnie cackling like a madwoman.

“So that’s how it is,” the old woman said before turning to Beau. “Were you raised in a barn, Beauregard? Introduce us to this young lady.”

“This is Jenna Jay Scroggs,” Beau said. “Jenna, this is Starlet Brubaker. Minnie Ladue.” He smiled at the Marilyn Monroe lookalike. “Baby Evans.” He winked at the hippie woman in her jeans. “And Sunshine.”

Sunshine beamed back at Beau before studying Jenna with eyes that looked more than a little vacant. “You remind me of someone.” She reached out and stroked Jenna’s hair as if she was a prize pet. “Pretty hair. Could I braid it?”

“Maybe later, Sunshine.” Baby removed her hand from Jenna’s hair and held it in her own. “Welcome to Miss Hattie’s, Jenna,” she said in a breathy voice.

Jenna nodded at the women. “It’s nice to meet y’all. I hope I’m not imposing.”

“Not at all,” Minnie backed up the wheelchair. “We’ve been expecting you.” Before Jenna could get answers to all the questions that had been nagging her since receiving the invitation, Minnie zipped around and started issuing orders. “Sunshine, make sure Miss Hattie’s room has fresh towels. Beau looks like he could use a nice, hot bath. Starlet, see if you can find him some clean clothes and boots. I think Brant left some last time he was here. And Baby, set two more places for supper. Beau’s favorite of chicken and dumplin’s will be appreciated.” She glanced back at Jenna, who still stood on the porch. “Jenna, you come with me. I’d like to show you around the henhouse.”

The henhouse was even more impressive in real life than it had been on the website. On the main floor, there was a grand salon, ballroom, dining room, billiard room, library, and kitchen. Off the kitchen were the servant quarters where the hens lived. There were seven bedrooms upstairs, but since Beau was in Miss Hattie’s and three others were occupied with guests, Jenna only got to see three. They were all beautifully furnished with private bathrooms and views of the gardens that surrounded the house.

The tour ended in the basement, a huge room Minnie referred to as The Jungle Room. To Jenna, it looked more like The Austin Powers Room. Purple shag carpeting covered half the floor while the other half was some
kind of a disco dance floor, complete with a mirrored ball hanging overhead and rows of strobe lights. There was a chrome and leather bar in one corner and a blue grand piano in another. And on the walls were frameless canvases covered with bright splashes of color.

“After the fire, we had to have it completely redone,” Minnie said as she rolled next to a big, fuzzy orange chair. “Lucky for me, I have a photographic memory so we were able to duplicate the décor exactly as it had been.” She waved a hand at an abstract painting on the wall. “Except for my Warhol paintin’. That I couldn’t replace so I had to settle for some new artist out of Houston. But it isn’t even close to the same.” She pointed to a zebra-print couch. “Sit down, Jenna Jay, you’re makin’ my neck hurt.”

Jenna took a seat. The zebra skin was stiff and made her feel very uncomfortable. But then again, so did Minnie’s intense gaze.

“So I hear that you aren’t plannin’ on stayin’ long.” Minnie popped the arm of the wheelchair down and maneuvered over to the orange chair. Jenna got to her feet to help, but one warning look from Minnie had her sitting back down.

“No more than a few days,” Jenna said. “I have responsibilities in New York.” She cleared her throat and decided to get straight to the point. “I think you’ve made a serious mistake, ma’am.”

“Just Minnie.” Minnie pulled a sucker out of the side pocket of her wheelchair. One of those Dum-dum suckers that Jenna had loved as a kid. “Sucker?”

Jenna studied the wrapper. “It’s not the mystery flavor, is it?”

“Not one who likes surprises, I take it.” She unwrapped
the sucker and popped it into her mouth. “That’s a shame. Surprises are the best part of life.” She searched for another sucker in the pocket and handed it to Jenna. “So what kind of mistake have I made this time, Jenna Jay?”

Jenna unwrapped the sucker and placed it in her mouth. The cherry lollipop was as good as she had remembered and brought back memories of going to Sutter’s Pharmacy with her sisters and brother. As she savored the flavor, she answered Minnie.

“The mistake of thinking I’m related to a hen.”

Minnie’s penciled-in eyebrows shot up. “And just who told you that?”

“Beau.” She took the sucker out. “Is he wrong? Why else would you send me an invitation?”

Minnie studied her with her intense, beady eyes as she sucked on the lollipop. “This boyfriend of yours. Is he the same boyfriend who caused the tiff between you and your parents?”

Did the entire state know about her fight with her mama?

She nodded. “One and the same. Now about the invitation—”

“You love him?”

“Yes,” Jenna answered without hesitation.

Minnie pulled the sucker out of her mouth. “So you gave up Texas for love. That seems like a fair trade. Although it must be hard to love a man your family doesn’t approve of. ’Course, I didn’t have to worry about my parents’ approval. My mama and daddy didn’t care enough to approve or disapprove. My mama worked here at Miss Hattie’s, and my daddy was an oilman who had a family of his own.”

Jenna settled back on the couch. “So you lived here?”

“I lived with distant cousins of my mama’s. Aunt Lula and Uncle Joe were good folks, but I never did fit into their family.”

“I know what you mean,” Jenna said. “I’m sort of the black sheep in my family, too. Which is why it wasn’t that hard for me to move to New York with Davy.”

“So you fit better there than here?”

Jenna had never given it much thought. New York City had been terrifying at first. Now she was used to the tall buildings and the crowds of people. But did she fit in New York? And could she see herself living there the rest of her life?

Minnie took her silence as affirmation. “So if you’re happy in New York City, why haven’t you married this man? It seems to me that it would be the quickest way to get your family to accept him. You can dislike a boyfriend, but it’s a lot harder to dislike the husband of your daughter or the father of your grandkids.”

It was a good question. Why hadn’t she married Davy? They had been going together for three years and had never even talked about marriage.

“I guess I hadn’t thought about it,” she whispered more to herself than to Minnie. “But you’re right; marriage would fix things. Once I’m married to Davy, my folks would have to accept him.” Of course, she couldn’t bring up marriage now. But it gave her another goal to work toward. She bit down on her sucker and finished it off, then wrapped the stick back up in the paper wrapper. “Can I use your phone?”

A frown added even more wrinkles to Minnie’s forehead. “I’m afraid the phone lines have been down for the last couple days. The wind, you know. And cell reception
out here is so bad that we don’t even waste our time buying them. But it sounds like you’ll be back in New York City before you know it, and you’ll have plenty of time to get hitched to that man of your dreams.” She maneuvered herself back into the wheelchair. “For now, why don’t you help yourself to a cold drink from the fridge behind the bar and take a stroll through the garden? It’s got a real nice hammock for napping.”

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