Heart of Texas Volume One (31 page)

“You still can.”

“No, I can't.”

“Try me,” he challenged.

She threw back her head and laughed, but this time her amusement lacked sincerity. “We can talk about anything, can we?” she flung at him. “Fine, then we'll talk about how Richard's kisses leave me cold and how all I could do was compare the way I felt when I was in your arms.”

Glen didn't hear anything beyond the first few words. “So you're kissing Richard now. Is there anyone else I don't know about?”

“See?” she cried, tossing her arms in the air. “My point exactly.”

“What point?”

“We can't talk.”

“We're already talking! What do you mean?” This was the kind of convoluted conversation women suckered a man into— giving him just enough rope to hang himself. Glen had seen it happen often enough and had always managed to avoid it with Ellie. Until now.

“You said there wasn't anything I couldn't discuss with you, and already we're at each other's throats.”

“I am not at your throat!” he shouted, his patience gone. The entire day had been a waste. First he'd fretted about her with Richard in Bitter End. Then he'd attempted to revive their friendship, only to learn she'd been locking lips with Richard Weston.

“You're welcome to him,” he said, setting the mug down forcibly enough to send coffee sloshing over the sides. “As far as I'm concerned, you and Richard deserve each other.”

“Oh, please, now you're acting like a jealous fool.”

He was out the office door before he realized he'd had more than one reason for seeing Ellie. He walked back and leaned against the doorjamb, crossing his arms.

Ellie glanced up and waited.

“You going to the dance?” he asked finally, as if her answer didn't really matter.

“I…haven't decided yet. Are you going?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I probably will, too.”

“See you there?” he asked, his mood brightening.

She nodded. “Will you wait for me?”

He nodded, grinning.

She smiled back.

A
S THE EVENING WORE ON
, Glen's feelings toward Richard Weston grew even less friendly. He resented the other man's putting Ellie at risk by escorting her to Bitter End. The more he thought about it, the more irritated he got. Richard's dating Ellie had never set right with him, either. Especially now, when she was at a low point in her life following her father's death and her mother's move to Chicago. Although Ellie generally had a level head, Glen didn't want Pretty Boy taking advantage of her.

And then there was his own unresolved—and unexpected— attraction to her…. But, no, the real concern was Ellie's vulnerability to a superficial charmer like Richard.

The only thing to do, Glen decided, was speak to Richard personally. Clear the air. Set him straight. He'd wait for the right opportunity. He was well aware that Ellie wouldn't appreciate his having a chat with Richard on her behalf, but she didn't need to know about it, either. Someone had to look after her interests. Glen liked to think of himself as her guardian. Okay,
guardian
was probably the wrong word, seeing as they were close to the same age. What she could use was a sort of…advocate. A concerned friend. Yes, that was it. An advocate. Someone who had her best interests at heart. Stepping in where needed.

With his role clear in his mind, he held off until late Wednesday afternoon before driving out to the Yellow Rose Ranch and confronting the youngest Weston. This was between him and Richard. Man to man.

He turned into the drive and parked in the yard beside Grady's truck, then slowly climbed out of the cab. Savannah was in her rose garden wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat to shield her face from the sun. Richard sat on the front porch, strumming a guitar, apparently so involved in his music that he didn't see or hear Glen's approach. Rocket, Grady's old black Lab, slept on the porch, sprawled out on a small braided rug.

Carrying a wicker basket filed with fragrant pink roses, Savannah waved and walked toward Glen.

“Howdy, neighbor,” she said, smiling her welcome.

“Savannah.” He touched the tip of his Stetson. “Beautiful day, isn't it?”

“Lovely,” she agreed.

“I'm here to see Richard,” Glen announced, narrowing his gaze on the man who still lounged on the porch.

“He's practicing his guitar.” She gestured unnecessarily toward Richard. He'd leaned the chair against the side of the house and propped one foot on the porch railing.

“Would you care for a glass of iced tea?” Savannah offered.

His throat was dry; something cold and wet would be appreciated. “That's mighty kind of you.”

Richard's sister moved toward the house, then paused at the bottom step and turned. With a slight frown she said, “Is there trouble, Glen? Between you and Richard?”

“Not at all,” he was quick to assure her. He was determined that this would look like nothing more than a friendly conversation between neighbors. And if he just happened to mention Ellie…

Obviously relieved, Savannah disappeared into the house, and Glen approached Richard. The younger man ignored him until Glen pulled at the chair beside his and plunked himself down.

Richard's fingers paused over the strings. “Howdy, Glen.”

“Howdy.” Although Glen had mulled over what he intended to say, he found that actually speaking his mind was surprisingly difficult. “Do you have a few minutes?”

“Sure.” Richard set the guitar down on the porch, holding it by the neck. “I've always got time for a friend.”

Friend.
Glen hesitated since he didn't exactly view Richard that way.

“What can I do for you?” Richard asked companionably.

“Well…” Nope, he wasn't very good at expressing himself, Glen thought. “I've been concerned about Ellie.”

“Really?” Richard asked. “Why?”

“Her father dying and then her mother leaving so soon afterward.”

Richard nodded. “I see what you mean. She seems to be handling it pretty well, though, don't you think?” He picked up the guitar, laid it across his lap and played a couple of chords.

“That's the thing about Ellie,” Glen explained, speaking with authority. After all, he knew Ellie far better than Richard did. “She can put on a good front, but there's a lot of emotion churning beneath the surface.”

Richard chuckled. “You're right about that! She's a little fireball just waiting to explode. I've always been attracted to passionate women.” His tone insinuated that he'd been close to getting scorched by Ellie a few times—as if he knew her in ways Glen never would.

Glen shifted uncomfortably, angered by the insinuation, but was saved from responding by Savannah, who carried out a tray with two tall glasses of iced tea and a plate of homemade oatmeal cookies.

“Thanks,” Glen said, accepting a glass.

Richard had reached for his, plus a cookie, before Savannah could even put the plate down. “I can never resist my sister's cookies,” he said and kissed her on the cheek. “No one bakes better cookies than Savannah.”

His sister smiled at his praise, then quietly returned to the kitchen. Glen watched her go and realized that with very little effort, Richard had won over Savannah, too—despite all the grief he'd brought the family. No doubt about it, the guy was an expert when it came to manipulating women. Glen felt all the more uneasy, wondering how to handle the situation. He wanted Richard to keep his distance from Ellie, but he didn't want to be obvious about it. If he made a point of warning Richard off, the bum would be sure to tell her what he'd said. Probably snicker at him, too.

The best way, he decided, was to state his concerns in a natural straightforward manner. “Ellie told me you took her to Bitter End,” he began, struggling to disguise his anger.

Richard threw back his head and laughed boisterously. “I scared the living daylights out of her, too.”

Glen hadn't heard about that and was forced to listen to Richard's story of how he'd blindfolded her, then slipped out of the truck and hidden.

By the time he finished, Glen's jaw hurt from the effort it took not to yell at the man. “I don't think it's a good idea to be taking anyone up to that ghost town,” he said as calmly as he could, realizing anew that he actively disliked Richard Weston. He hadn't cared for him as a teenager and liked him even less as an adult.

“I couldn't agree with you more,” Richard said, once his amusement had faded. “It was a mistake to even mention Bitter End. Once I did, she was all over me, wanting to see the place. When I finally said I'd take her, she wasn't in the town five minutes before she wanted to leave.

“Surprising how much of that town's still standing,” Richard said next, helping himself to a second cookie.

Glen figured if he didn't take one soon, Richard would devour the entire plateful before he'd even had a taste. Deliberately he reached for a cookie, then another. He took a bite; they
were
as good as Richard claimed.

“How'd you find the town?” Glen asked.

“Since you, Cal and Grady didn't see fit to include me when we were kids, I didn't have any choice but to seek it out on my own.”

“But why now?”

“Why not?” He shrugged as if it was of little consequence. “I've got plenty of time to kill while I wait to hear on my next job. I work for an investment company.”

“I didn't realize that.”

“I don't tell a lot of people,” he said. “Most recently I was working with a smaller institution, specializing in loans and investments. Unfortunately, as you're probably aware, the larger institutions are swallowing up the smaller ones, and I was forced to take a short vacation while the company reorganizes. It seemed as good a time as any to visit my family.”

“Investments? Really?” Richard certainly possessed the polished look of a professional. And he knew how to talk the talk. Glen was a bit confused, though; he'd been under the impression that Richard had a different sort of job—sales or something. Oh, well, he supposed it didn't matter.

“Yup.” Richard ran the guitar pick over the strings and laughed easily. “I bet you didn't know I'd made quite a name for myself, did you?”

Glen sobered when he realized how smoothly Richard had diverted him from the subject of Bitter End, but he wasn't going to allow the other man to get away with it for long.

“You won't be taking Ellie back to the ghost town, will you?” Glen asked in a tone that told Richard he was in for a fight if he did.

“Not likely!”

“Good.” Then, in case he might consider showing the town to others, Glen added, “Or anyone else?”

“Hardly.” Richard's response was immediate; but Glen noted the way his hand stilled momentarily over the guitar. “I wouldn't have taken Ellie, but like I said, once I mentioned it she was all over me, wanting to see the place. It was either drive her there myself or let her go looking for it on her own.”

That much was true, Glen conceded.

“Do you and Ellie have something going…romantically?” Richard surprised him with the directness of the question.

Glen hesitated, unsure how to respond. Before he allowed himself to confess what he'd denied to everyone, including himself, he shook his head. “We're just friends.”

“That's what I thought.” Richard sounded smug and satisfied.

“Any particular reason you're asking?”

“Yeah. I'm interested in her myself, and I don't want to step on your toes if I can help it.”

Glen frowned. “Like I said earlier, this is a bad time for Ellie.”

“She needs someone like me,” Richard said, bending over the guitar and tightening a couple of strings. “What I'd like to see her do is sell that business and get on with her life. Her daddy stuck her with that feed store, but there's no need for her to hold on to it.”

Glen shook his head. Ellie loved the store with the same intensity her father had. She recognized her contribution to the community and took pride in meeting the needs of the local ranchers. The feed store had become the unofficial gathering place in town, and that was because Ellie, like her father, made folks feel welcome.

Everyone dropped in at Frasier Feed, to visit, catch up on local news and gossip, swap stories. The large bulletin board out front offered free advertising space for anyone with something to trade or sell. The pop machine was there, too, with a couple of chairs for those who wanted to take a load off their feet.

Ellie sell out? Never. Apparently Richard didn't know her as well as he thought.

“She's interested in me, too, you know,” Richard added.

This definitely came as a surprise to Glen. She'd admitted the two of them had kissed, but in the same breath had told him she preferred his kiss over Richard's. At least, that was what he
thought
she'd said. The last part of their conversation had been lost on him. They'd snapped at each other, gotten annoyed with each other and instantly regretted it. Glen had come to mend fences with her, not destroy them, and he'd turned back to ask her about the dance. He'd made it clear that he looked forward to spending the evening with her.

She'd told him basically the same thing. They'd meet there. He'd wait for her.

“She's attending the dance with me,” Richard stated nonchalantly.

“With you?” Glen couldn't believe what he'd just heard. “The Cattlemen's Association dance?”

“Yeah. She had some concern about the two of us being there together, though. Neither of us wants to start any talk.”

“Talk?”

“About seeing one another exclusively.”

“I see.” Glen's hand tensed around the cold glass.

“You going?” Richard asked pointedly. “If I remember correctly, this dance is one of the biggest social events of the summer.”

“I'll probably be there,” Glen said. And he'd make damn sure Richard kept his paws where they belonged, because the first time he saw Mr. Investment Manager touching Ellie, Glen would be dragging him outside and rearranging his dental work. Even if Ellie
did
prefer Weston, as it now appeared.

“Who are you taking?” Richard probed.

“I…don't know yet,” Glen confessed, and then because he didn't want it to look like he couldn't get a date, he added, “I was thinking of asking Nell Bishop.”

“Sure,” Richard said with an approving nod. “Ask Nell. I bet she'd be happy to go with you.”

Glen gulped down the rest of his tea and stood. “Glad we had this conversation,” he said, when in reality he was anything but. Only this time his anger was directed at Ellie. She'd played him for a fool. A fool! She'd led him to believe she didn't have a date. Moreover she'd indicated in no uncertain terms that she'd welcome his company there.
Wait for me,
she'd said.