Heart of Texas Volume One (35 page)

She groaned, and leaning forward, buried her face in her hands.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“It means it's none of your business.”

So Richard
had
kissed her. Glen would bet just about anything on that. It was obvious; otherwise she'd have been quick to deny it. His heart sank. At one time it wouldn't have bothered him, but now it did. A hell of a lot.

“What's happened to us?” she asked. “We used to be such good friends.”

“We were,” he agreed. “Good friends.”

“And then you kissed me.”

Talk about mistakes—but Glen really couldn't make himself regret that kiss. He'd relived it for days, remembering how it felt to hold Ellie in his arms, taste her lips, touch her hair. How it felt to be so
close.

“Damn me if you want, but I'd give anything to kiss you right now,” he whispered.

He was aware of her scrutiny and half turned to meet her gaze. “Because you think Richard kissed me earlier?” she asked.

“No,” he said softly. “Because I need to.” He reached for her, and his heart swelled with joy when she met his lips with an eagerness that matched his own. This was what he'd wanted, what he'd needed all along. Ellie in his arms. Ellie at his side.

“This is what I want, too,” she whispered, her lips moving over his.

Glen kissed her again. For the first time that evening—that entire week—he was at peace.

E
LLIE SLIPPED INTO THE PEW
Sunday morning five minutes after the service had started. Organ music surged through the church as she took the last seat, reached for the hymnal and joined the congregation in song. At first she suspected the attention she'd generated was due to her tardiness. It wasn't that she'd overslept. Far from it. The night had been her most restless since before her father's death.

She'd tossed and turned and fretted, and when sleep finally claimed her, it was fitful. She blamed Glen for that—and for a whole lot more. It was because of him she was late, but at the moment she'd have been willing to blame him for global warming.

Even after the song had ended and Pastor Wade McMillen started his sermon, Ellie felt the scrutiny of friends and neighbors. That, too, could be directly attributed to Glen. The man had single-handedly made her the object of speculation and gossip. Wringing his neck would be too good for him. First he'd embarrassed her in front of the entire town by making a spectacle of himself fighting over her. If that wasn't enough, he'd woken her out of a dead sleep, insulted her—then kissed her senseless. Ellie couldn't recall a time anyone had confused her more.

Not that she was Richard's champion. No way! He'd intentionally provoked Glen, leading him to believe the two of them were involved when it simply wasn't true. Besides, Richard was selfish and untrustworthy, and Glen was…Glen. Her friend.

Naturally Glen had skipped church. Richard, too. No doubt the effort of carting around their massive egos had worn them out, she thought irritably. It might have helped had they shown up to divide the attention now directed solely at her.

By concentrating on Wade's sermon, she managed to pretend she didn't notice her newfound celebrity status. At the end of the service following the benediction, she hoped to slip away unnoticed; it soon became apparent that this wasn't going to happen. The organ music filled the church as the congregation started to flow outside and Ellie was surrounded.

“I saw everything,” Louise Powell purred, sidling up to Ellie as though they were long-standing friends. “It isn't every woman who has two men virtually at each other's throats.”

“I think you misunderstood what happened,” Ellie said desperately.

“I've known Glen Patterson all my life,” Ruth Bishop was saying behind Louse, “and when he wants something, he gets it.”

“I wouldn't underestimate Richard Weston,” Louise said. “He's a man of the world. Ellie could do worse.”

Ellie hated it when people spoke as if they knew more about her life than she did.

“Stay close to me,” Edwina Moorhouse whispered, suddenly slipping next to Ellie and taking her arm. “Lily,” she instructed her younger sister, “go on the other side.” Again for Ellie's ears only, she added, “Just keep walking. We'll have you out of here in no time.”

Ellie found herself grateful for the Moorhouse sisters' protection. Especially from Louise Powell, the town gossip; a woman who enjoyed meddling in the affairs of others, often under the guise of concern.

“Ladies, ladies,” Louise said in a sharp voice, tagging behind Ellie and the Moorhouse sisters. “
I
was chatting with Ellie.”

“You aren't any longer,” Edwina declared, stepping in front of Ellie.

If it hadn't been so ridiculous, and if she hadn't felt so tired and worn-out, Ellie would have laughed. Each sister positioned herself in a way that told Louise she'd have a fight on her hands before they'd willingly abandon Ellie. The two unlikely guardians were dressed in their Sunday best, with crisp white gloves and pillbox hats.

“All I wanted to do—”

“We know very well what you were doing, Louise,” Edwina said in a voice that reminded Ellie of her schooldays.

“Louise,” Lily said, not unkindly, “do you remember in sixth grade when Larry Marin…”

“Louise's face turned beet red. “I remember,” she whispered.

“It would be embarrassing if news of you and Larry somehow got around town, wouldn't it?”

“That was nearly forty years ago!” Louise protested.

“And just as scandalous today as it was back then,” Lily said primly. “Now, as Edwina was saying, Ellie's with
us.
”

“Oh, all right.” The other woman flounced off with her rumpled dignity and returned to where her husband stood impatiently waiting.

“Lily!” Edwina gasped. “What happened between Louise and Larry in the sixth grade?”

Lily covered her mouth with her hand. “God's honest truth, sister, I don't know.”

“Sister, you amaze me.”

“You!” Ellie giggled. She could certainly have dealt with a busybody like Louise Powell on her own, but this was much more fun.

Edwina waited until Louise was out of earshot, then she turned around and regarded Ellie with deep affection. “Are you all right, Ellie?”

“Of course.”

“I'd like to box a few ears,” Lily said. “We didn't teach our students to stare, did we, sister?”

“Positively not.”

“I hope you're willing to forgive everyone's curiosity?”

“It's only natural, I suppose,” Ellie said agreeably. “Especially in light of what happened at the dance.”

“Yes, we did hear about that.” Lily patted Ellie's hand. “I realize you didn't ask Edwina's or my advice, but I feel compelled to offer you a few words of wisdom.”

“Since your mother isn't here,” Edwina inserted.

“Please do.” Ellie had always loved the Moorhouse sisters and wouldn't even consider turning down anything they offered.

“We may never have married, but Edwina and I do know a thing or two about love.”

“I'm sure that's true.”

Edwina caught Ellie's hand in her own. “Follow your heart, child.”

“Yes, indeed, follow your heart,” Lily echoed.

“I will,” Ellie promised, and she would, just as soon as her heart had sorted everything out.

Still thinking about their advice, Ellie drove home, stopping first at the grocery store to pick up a few essentials. When she turned onto her street, she noticed the pickup outside her house. She groaned when she found Richard sitting on her porch, waiting for her return.

He was the last person she wanted to see. Not that she was ready to see Glen anytime soon, either. She refused to think about the kisses they'd shared or the reasons he'd come by her house after the disastrous dance. Her fear was that he saw Richard and himself as rivals for her. And that this had influenced his actions and his declarations.

What he didn't know was that Richard hadn't kissed her. Not for lack of trying, mind you, but because she was in no mood for him or his games.

Realizing she had no escape, Ellie pulled into her driveway and climbed out of the car. Richard glanced up, apparently surprised to see her loaded down with groceries.

“Ellie,” he said, smiling brightly. He leaped to his feet and raced down the steps to take the bags out of her arms. “You should have said something,” he chastised as if he'd waited all day for the honor of carrying her groceries.

Ellie tried to refuse his help, but he'd have none of it. “Hey, it's the least I can do.” It also gave him the perfect excuse to follow her into the house, Ellie noted despondently.

He set the bags on the kitchen counter and immediately started unpacking them. “Look at this,” he said as if finding a dozen eggs was akin to discovering gold. “I swear I was thinking just five minutes ago how much I'd enjoy a mushroom-and-Swiss-cheese omelet.” Gesturing like a magician, he pulled a paper sack of mushrooms free of the bag, along with a slab of Swiss cheese. “It's fate,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

“Richard, I don't think—”

“I'll cook,” he said. He clasped her shoulders and backed her into a kitchen chair. “Sit down and make yourself at home.”

“I am home,” she interrupted, amused despite herself at his audacity.

He stopped a moment and smiled, then said, “So you are.”

She started to stand, but he wouldn't allow it.

“I'm cooking,” he said cheerfully, pushing her into the chair again.

“Richard—”

“I won't take no for an answer.” He opened the cupboard door and took out a small bowl. Before Ellie could stop him, he was whirling about her kitchen as if he'd been cooking there his entire life.

To his credit he seemed to know what he was doing.

“You look especially lovely this morning,” he said, pouring the eggs into the skillet.

“Yeah, yeah.” Ellie was in no mood for empty flattery. “I've heard that before.”

“Only because it's true.” He whistled something jaunty as he edged a spatula under the omelet.

The doorbell rang and with a wave of his hand Richard motioned for her to answer it.

Ellie was too concerned with how to expel Richard from her home to be affronted by his peremptory manner—or to worry about who'd come calling unannounced. Hindsight being what it was, she wished later she'd given the matter some thought before she opened the door.

Glen Patterson stood on the other side.

Ellie's mouth fell open. She hadn't expected to see him.

“Glen!”

“Who is it, sweetheart?” Richard asked, stepping out of the kitchen, a dish towel tucked at his waist. He carried the frying pan and spatula in his hands and didn't miss a beat when he saw Glen.

“Howdy, neighbor,” he called. “I'm stirring up a little brunch here. You're welcome to join us if you want.”

Glen's eyes hardened as he looked at Ellie. She tried to tell him without words that it wasn't how it seemed; that she hadn't
asked
Richard to join her, he'd come uninvited. But Glen had already formed his own opinion, and nothing she did now was likely to change it.

“I'll be back another time,” he muttered.

“Stay,” Richard urged like a gracious host. “Cooking is one of my talents. Ask Ellie.”

It was all she could manage not to wheel around and kick Richard in the shin.

 

T
HREE DAYS HAD PASSED SINCE
Glen had stumbled on Richard cooking Ellie's breakfast. Three miserable days. He still couldn't think about it and not get mad.

He hadn't seen Ellie, hadn't talked to her in those three days. Generally he dropped in the feed store for supplied on Tuesday afternoons. Almost always they'd spend a few minutes together, joking, teasing, laughing. There'd been damn little of that lately. He didn't drive into town on Tuesday, and he wasn't eager to make the trip on Wednesday, either. It would do Ellie good to miss his company, not that he'd received any indication that she had.

Ellie preyed on his mind, making him next to useless around the ranch. Disgusted, Cal sent him out to check fence lines. If that was meant to distract him, it hadn't worked. Grandpa Patterson used to say: Never approach a bull from the front, a horse from the rear or a fool from any direction. Well, Glen couldn't help feeling like a fool, and his mind seemed to be spinning in
every
direction.

His thinking was clouded with thoughts of Ellie as he trotted back toward the ranch. When he wasn't thinking about her, he was brooding about Richard Weston. Glen feared Richard was using the time he stayed away from Ellie to further his own cause.

If that was true, then so be it. If Ellie wanted Richard, fine, she was welcome to him but he'd figured she had more sense.

A man had his pride, too. Glen had kissed Ellie on two occasions now, and if he could recognize that they had something pretty special, why couldn't she? Okay, so they hadn't talked about their feelings, but Glen had been hoping to do that on Sunday. Only he couldn't because Richard was there, playing Julia Child.

The way he saw it, Ellie owed him an apology. She'd misled him, kissing him like she had, then cozying up to Richard. He'd never have taken Ellie for the type of woman who'd play one man against another, but he'd seen the evidence with his own eyes.

Cal was waiting for him when he led Moonshine into the barn.

“Are you picking up supplies this week or not?” Cal demanded.

“I'll get them,” Glen replied without enthusiasm.

“If it's a problem, I'll drive into town myself.”

“It's no problem,” Glen said. Damn it, he couldn't stay away a minute longer, and he knew it.

By the time Glen cleaned up and drove into town, his throat was parched. More to fortify his courage than to cure his thirst, he decided to stop at Billy D's for a cold beer.

Billy D himself was behind the bar when Glen sauntered in. The ranchers tended to congregate here when they came to town, and there was usually someone he knew. Billy was the friendly sort and something of an institution in Promise. He baked a decent pizza, and his fried chicken was as good as any colonel's; but few people came to Billy D's for the food. It was the one place in town, other than the bowling alley and the feed store, where ranchers could shoot the breeze and unwind. And at Billy's they could do it over a beer.