Heart of Texas Volume One (15 page)

“I'm sorry,” she said again, with such genuine regret that he couldn't help forgiving her. “Richard and I were talking about Bitter End this morning, and I felt this urge to go there again. Now. Today. I have to, Laredo. Because of the roses.” She glanced down at her feet. “And I didn't want Richard to know. Or Grady. I wasn't sure where you were…and I've got to leave quickly.” She raised her head to look at him. “Can you come with me?” she asked, her expressive eyes filled with hope. “It won't take much time. I'll leave Grady a note and explain.”

Grady might owe him a favor, but Laredo didn't feel ready to collect it quite this soon. Then he changed his mind.

“All right,” he said, “we'll do it.”

She clapped her hands, then forgetting herself, leaped forward and kissed him on the mouth. “I'll pack up a lunch and afterward we can have a picnic.”

He hadn't the heart to disappoint her, but his idea of how he wanted to spend the day wasn't sitting in some field full of bluebonnets, lingering over sandwiches. Not even with Savannah.… He thought of all the chores that awaited him. Chores Grady counted on him to do.

“How long will we be?”

“Not too long,” she promised. “All I want to do is walk around and see if there are any other roses. We won't stay.”

He nodded.

“There's a lovely spot a few miles down the road where the river bends. We can have lunch there.” She wasn't about to drop this picnic idea of hers, and really, he supposed, it was a small thing to ask.

With their plans set, Laredo loaded the shovels and other tools into the back of the pickup. As he did, an uneasiness settled over him. Apparently what Grady had told him about the place had made a stronger impact than he'd realized. His uneasiness grew into dread and refused to leave him.

They weren't even off the ranch yet, and already he was convinced they shouldn't go.

T
HE TRUCK PITCHED AND HEAVED
, first left and then right, as they neared Bitter End. Savannah hung on as best she could, but her shoulders continued to slam against Laredo's, jarring them both. Thankfully they were able to follow the tire tracks from her last visit, otherwise she wasn't sure she could have located it a second time.

“I can't believe you found this place on your own,” Laredo said, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“It wasn't easy—took me weeks of searching.”

More than once she'd been tempted to forsake the idea, but the thought of finding old roses had spurred her onward. Her patience had been richly rewarded. Not only had she discovered the White Lady Banks, her most valuable find to date, but on that same day she'd come across Laredo.

The truck pitched sharply and Laredo cursed under his breath.

“We're pretty close now,” she assured him. His face was tense with concentration, and although he drove cautiously, he couldn't avoid jolting the truck on the rough ground. There was barely even a track.

Savannah was grateful Laredo had agreed to escort her back to the ghost town, but what she looked forward to even more was their picnic. They were rarely alone. This stolen time was bound to be special.

Laredo eased the truck to a stop when they could go no farther.

“It's only a short walk from here,” she promised.

The trek was difficult, through brush and dense cedars, and they were both breathless before the town came into view.

“So this is Bitter End,” Laredo muttered as he climbed over rocks to a limestone ledge that overlooked the town. He offered Savannah his hand.

She took it and stepped up. From the outskirts Bitter End resembled any other ghost town. A row of forsaken buildings lined the main street, four or five on each side, in various states of disrepair, various stages of dying. Paintless shutters hung crookedly by empty windows. The stillness and lack of sound gave it an eerie unreal feeling. Wind-tossed tumbleweeds had wedged in the corners and along the boardwalk. A quick inspection didn't reveal any visible plant life, but there had to be some roses. The ones in the cemetery had survived. Others would've, too.

The largest building in town was the church, which sat on a hill at the far end of town, next to the cemetery. Time had left it remarkably untouched. It'd remained white and unblemished except for the charred steeple, which had apparently been struck by lightning. At the other end of town was a corral.

They clambered down a rocky embankment into the town itself. Then it happened just as it had on her first visit. The feeling of sadness and pain. Whatever possessed Bitter End wasn't ghosts or spirits, of that she was fairly certain, but a sorrow so strong even the years hadn't dimmed it.

She looked at Laredo, who faced the town squarely, feet slightly apart, ready, it seemed, for anything. He stood there silently as if he was listening and yet heard nothing.

“Do you feel it?” she whispered. Normal tones didn't seem right. On her previous visit she hadn't murmured a word. She'd been in and out of the town within ten minutes. Just long enough to dig up the roses and replace them with a bush from her own garden.

“Are you sure you want to go ahead with this?” Laredo asked. He, too, spoke in a whisper, unwilling to disturb whatever it was that awaited them.

Savannah slipped her arm through his. “I'm positive.”

“Then let's get it over with and get the hell out.”

“There aren't any ghosts here,” she told him, still in a whisper.

“Whatever you say.” He smiled for the first time since their arrival.

“It won't take long to look for more roses,” she said. The presence of another person—someone she trusted—made the town seem a little less frightening.

If Laredo wasn't in such an all-fired hurry to leave, it might have been fun to explore the interior of some of the buildings. But then again, Savannah had the distinct impression they were trespassing as it was.

“Where do you want to start?” Laredo asked as they neared the main street.

“Anyplace is fine. I was in the cemetery earlier.” She motioned toward the church and the graveyard behind it. They walked side by side, holding hands. His warm grasp lent her reassurance.

The farther they went into town, the stronger the sense of sorrow became. With each step down the narrow street, the feeling grew darker. During her last visit she'd hurried through Bitter End as quickly as possible on her way to the cemetery, trying to shake off the sense of misery and unease.

She'd actually enjoyed visiting the graveyard. The sensation hadn't been nearly as powerful there, and she'd been fascinated by the headstones. Most of the names and dates on the simple markers were no longer legible, but that hadn't stopped her from picturing the kind of life the people of Bitter End had lived. It would have been a harsh existence, battling hunger, disease and the elements.

Savannah recalled the stories she'd read about the frontier days when Texas had been wild and unforgiving. Stories she would one day read to her own children.

Her own children.

The thought caught her unprepared. All these years Savannah had assumed she'd never marry. Since meeting Laredo she'd begun to believe that all things were possible for her. A husband and a family of her own. Despite the eeriness of the place, Savannah's heart gladdened.

After a few minutes exploring the town's streets, Savannah realized that the trip had been a waste of time and energy. Whatever flowers, roses or otherwise, once bloomed in Bitter End had long since died. Nothing grew inside the town. Nothing. Everything was dead, including the land itself.

The lone tree, an oak with gnarled limbs, was hollow and lifeless. It stood in silent testimony to a time and place long forgotten.

“Don't you think it's a bit bizarre that there's nothing alive here? Not even a weed?” Laredo commented.

She nodded. The only plants that had survived one-hundred-plus years were the roses she'd discovered at the cemetery. “I want to go back,” she said.

“I couldn't agree with you more,” Laredo murmured.

“I mean, to the cemetery,” she said.

He hesitated. “Are you sure that's wise?”

“I don't know, but I'm curious about the grave site where I found the roses.” It didn't add up in Savannah's mind. If those roses had survived, then it made sense that other plants would have, too.

“In my humble opinion,” Laredo said, his words barely audible, “we shouldn't tempt fate. Let's leave while the leaving's good. All right?”

His hand gripped Savannah's with such force that her fingers throbbed. He wasn't intentionally hurting her, she knew, but reacting to the tension inside him.

“All right,” she agreed. “We'll go. I'll look some other time.”

“No.” The force behind the single word brought her up short.

“I don't want you coming back here,” he said with an urgency that baffled her. “Not for anything. Understand? This place gives me the creeps.”

Despite her love for him, she couldn't make that kind of promise. “No. Someday there might be a very good reason for me to return.”

Clearly, he wanted to argue the point, but right then, leaving appeared to be a higher priority. Frequently looking over his shoulder, Laredo led her back toward the faint path that would take them to the truck.

As they walked, the sensation gradually lifted from her shoulders. Savannah could feel it slipping away. Like a silk scarf dragged across a palm, the sensation faded until it was completely gone.

Once they reached the pickup, Laredo helped Savannah inside, then climbed in himself. He couldn't seem to start the engine fast enough. His anxiety, even greater than her own, was contagious.

Savannah didn't want to know what had created the feeling that pervaded Bitter End. There was nothing good in that town and maybe there never had been.

 

L
IFE WAS FILLED WITH MYSTERIES
, Laredo told himself. The answers weren't always meant to be known. That was the way he felt about this ghost town. Grady hadn't said much about it, only that it wasn't a safe place for Savannah. Her brother couldn't trust her not to return on her own, so he'd put aside his dislike and distrust of Laredo and sought his help.

For the first time Laredo appreciated Grady's fears. He didn't know what the hell had happened in that town. But he didn't need to know. As far as he was concerned, Bitter End could continue as it had for more than a hundred years without interruption from him.

He leaned against the tree trunk and watched Savannah unpack the picnic basket. He still wasn't keen on lazing away the afternoon under a flowering pecan, but his objection to the wasted time felt much less urgent now.

The spot she'd chosen for their picnic was as lovely as she'd promised. The river flowed swiftly nearby, the clean sound of water a sharp contrast to what he'd experienced a short time before.

Savannah finished unloading the wicker basket and quickly assembled them each a plate—roast-beef sandwiches, yesterday's potato salad, homemade pickles. They ate in companionable silence for a while, then both spoke at once.

“You felt it, too, didn't you?” she asked.

“Was it the same as before?” he asked.

They paused and grinned, then Laredo took the lead. “I'll tell you what,” he said. “Let's not talk about the town.”

“Why not?”

He wasn't sure if she was disappointed or relieved. “I want to talk about you.”

“Me?” She shook her head. “You already know everything.”

“No, I'm sure I don't. For instance, who taught you to cook like this?” He couldn't remember a time he'd eaten better. Not in years. Not since he was a child, when he'd been too young to appreciate a home-cooked meal.

“My mother loved cooking. Baking, too. Mealtime was a matter of pride to her. I guess we're more alike than I realized.” Her eyes grew wide. “You would have liked her, Laredo—she was a wonderful woman.”

He didn't doubt that, not with the way he felt about Savannah. Relaxed as he was, the sun behind him, the sound of the river singing nearby, Laredo yawned, lulled by the serenity of the spot. “You'd like my mother, too.”

He hadn't meant to talk about himself, but once he'd mentioned his mother, she wouldn't let the subject drop. Before long he was answering her questions, talking about his mother in Tulsa. About her being widowed in 1972. And how she'd moved back to the same house where she'd been born and raised, the house where she still lived. How she'd been dating the same man for twenty years without any plan to marry him.

“I know I'd like her,” Savannah said wistfully. Then she lowered her gaze until her long lashes grazed the high arch of her cheek. “Would you… Never mind.” Savannah reached for a blade of grass and nervously twisted it around her finger.

“Would I what?” he prodded, enjoying her discomfort. Little did she realize that he'd do just about anything for her. All she had to do was ask.

Her eyes fleetingly held his before she glanced away. “Would you like to put your head in my lap?” she asked.

This was what dreams were made of, he decided as he rested his neck against her thigh. It didn't take long for her fingers to weave their way into his hair, her touch soft and gentle. A memory rushed forward, one of his father and mother. His mother cutting his father's hair in the kitchen. Laredo couldn't have been more than four at the time, but he recalled the loving way his mother's hands had smoothed back the hair from his father's brow. His father had reached for her hand and kissed her palm.

Without realizing it, Laredo caught Savannah's fingers and brought them to his lips. His heart constricted with the strength of emotion that coursed through him.

He didn't intend to kiss her, but that was a natural progression. As natural as drawing his next breath. He lifted his head from the sanctuary of her lap and gently met her mouth with his. The hunger that surged to fire in his blood stunned him. The strength of his desire would have frightened her had he acted on it, Laredo thought. Instead, he involved himself in the kiss, his lips lingering on hers.

One kiss, he promised himself. But it soon became obvious that a single kiss wasn't enough for either of them. They exchanged one after another, each more intense than the last. Laredo had to call on every ounce of willpower he possessed to stop.

“I like it when you kiss me,” Savannah whispered. She kept her eyes closed as she spoke.

“I like it, too,” he confessed.

“Don't stop,” she pleaded.

Once again Laredo found himself in the position of being unable to refuse her.

The kiss was even better than the others; he'd assumed that was impossible. Savannah lay on the blanket, smiling up at him and he leaned over her.

“You taste so good I don't want you to ever stop,” she whispered when he hesitated.