Heart of Texas Vol. 3: Caroline's Child. Debbie Macomber

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ After these few years without Jake, there wasn’t a ranching chore she couldn’t accomplish with the speed and dexterity of a man. At this point, she knew as much about ranching as any cowboy. Not only that, she’d heard the great stories of Texas all her life—stories about the state’s settlement and the Alamo and the early cattle drives and many more. She’d always loved those stories, and if she could make money telling them now, romanticizing the Old West, all the better.

      Heavy black clouds darkened the sky. Pushing thoughts of Jake from her mind, Nell focused her attention on the highway. Driving well above the speed limit, she rounded a turn in the road and saw a sports utility vehicle parked along the side.

      Some damn fool had stopped to take pictures of the approaching storm. The man obviously wasn’t a local. Anyone from Texas would know to take cover, and fast. Like the state of Texas itself, storms tended to make an impression, especially spring storms like this one.

      Despite her hurry, Nell applied her brakes and pulled over. With the engine running, she leaped down from the cab. The wind slapped her long braid against her face as she raced toward the stranger.

      The greenhorn lowered his camera. “Howdy,” he greeted her cheerfully. He was taller than she was and clean-cut. His clothes were new-looking but rumpled.

      “Listen, I don’t mean to be rude, but any idiot knows to head for cover in a storm.”

      His smile faded to a frown.

      “I don’t know where you’re from or where you’re going,” she went on, “but if I were you I’d get my butt back into that fancy car of yours and drive into town as fast as those tires will take you.” Having done her duty, she started back to her truck.

      “Hey,” he said, “got a minute? I have a few questions.”

      “I have to go.” Nell didn’t mean to sound abrupt, but she didn’t have time to waste. She’d said her piece and whether or not he took her advice was completely up to him.

      “Are you from around the area?” he called after her.

      “Yes! Now listen, we get hail the size of golf balls and if you don’t want to pay to have the dents removed, then I suggest you make tracks for town.”

      “This will only take a minute…”

      “I don’t have a minute, I’ve got horses and calves to worry about,” Nell shouted into the wind. “And I don’t have time to convince you a storm is about to break.” She raised her hand toward the threatening sky. “It’s going to cost you plenty if you don’t get that vehicle under cover.”

      “I’m insured.”

      “Hail is an act of God.” Whether he caught her last words or not she didn’t know. Nell leaped into her truck and put the pickup in gear. One glance in the rearview mirror proved that giving this stranger advice had been a wasted effort. He hadn’t moved. Furthermore, he wasn’t snapping pictures of the dark horizon anymore; he was taking pictures of her!

      Shaking her head in wonder, Nell dismissed him from her thoughts and drove home at breakneck speed.

      When she pulled into the ranch yard, she saw Jeremy chasing chickens in a futile attempt to lure them into the coop. Emma and Ruth led the horses toward the barn, yanking on the reins as the two geldings battled the wind. The scene right before the tornado in The Wizard of Oz flashed through Nell’s mind.

      She parked the truck near the barn, where it would be protected, and hurried toward her family. With her help, Ruth and Emma managed to secure the animals before the storm broke.

      By the time they scurried into the house, the rain had started and they were breathless and excited.

      “We did it!” twelve-year-old Jeremy said, exchanging a high five with his sister. Unlike most siblings, Jeremy and Emma rarely fought. Sure, they squabbled now and then—all kids did—but these two were close in age and temperament. They’d also been through the devastating experience of their father’s death, which had created a strong bond between them.

      Jeremy was large for his age, like his father and Nell, too—big-boned, muscular and tall. Two years younger, Emma was small and delicate, resembling Ruth, her grandmother.

      “I’m glad you made it home in time,” Ruth said, pouring Nell a cup of hot tea before filling a second cup for herself.

      Nell gazed out the kitchen window at the ferocity of the storm. The wind propelled the rain at an almost horizontal angle, pelting the trees and flowers. Smaller trees were bent nearly in half. Many a new crop would see ruin this afternoon.

      Sighing, she turned away from the window. “I would have been a couple of minutes earlier if it hadn’t been for some greenhorn,” she said. “The silly fool stopped at the side of the road to take pictures.”

      “Anyone you recognized?” Ruth asked.

      “Never saw him before in my life.” Nell would have remembered him if she had. He was big like Jake, sturdy and broad-shouldered. Unfortunately—unlike Jake—he didn’t seem to possess an ounce of common sense.

      Ruth shook her head. “Probably one of those tornado chasers.”

      Nell frowned. “I don’t think so.” He wasn’t the type. Too soft, she decided, and although it might sound unkind, not all that bright. Anyone with brains knew to seek shelter in a storm.

      “What’s for dinner?” Jeremy asked.

      “Not chili,” Emma pleaded.

      Despite herself Nell laughed. “Not chili,” she assured her. Her family had been good sports, sampling different variations of her chili recipe for the past few months. Nell was perfecting her recipe and had used her family as taste-testers.

      The chili cook-off was being held that weekend as part of the Promise Rodeo. These festivities launched spring the way the big Cattlemen’s Association Dance in June signaled the beginning of summer.

      Nell held high hopes that her chili might actually win this year. Her talents in the kitchen were legendary, and she believed she made a great pot of chili. For weeks she’d been combining recipes, adding this, subtracting that. After feeding her family chili twice a week, she was finally satisfied with her recipe.

      “Are you going to win the cook-off?” Emma asked.

      “Of course she is,” Ruth answered before Nell could respond. “I don’t see why she shouldn’t, seeing she’s the best cook this side of the Rio Grande.”

      Both children nodded enthusiastically, and Nell smiled. “How about porcupine meatballs for dinner?” she suggested. The meatballs, made with rice and cooked in tomato soup, were one of the children’s favorites. Jeremy and Emma instantly agreed.

      “I’ll peel the potatoes,” Ruth said. As usual her mother-in-law was willing to lend a hand.

      The lights flickered just then, and the house went dark.

      “That’s okay,” Jeremy said. “We don’t need electricity. We can roast weenies in the fireplace, can’t we?”

      “Yeah,” Emma seconded. “We could have hot dogs.”

      “Sounds СКАЧАТЬ