All Roads Lead to Texas. Linda Warren

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СКАЧАТЬ old rockers set there as if waiting for someone. Callie touched one, shifting the bowl in her arms. “These are beautiful.”

      “They’ve been here as long as I can remember,” he said.

      “I’m surprised someone hasn’t stolen them.”

      “Try picking one up.”

      She handed the bowl to Adam and tried to lift a rocker. She staggered under the weight. “Oh, my goodness.”

      “Solid wood and steel. It would be hard for anyone to carry them away, but Homestead is a place where everybody knows everybody. If someone took them, I’d know in a matter of minutes where to go look. It’s a close-knit town—not much crime here.” He didn’t tell her about some of the mischief the newcomers were experiencing. Little incidents that couldn’t be explained.

      “I’m glad they’re here,” she said, lovingly touching the rockers. “They go with the house.” She had a faraway look in her eyes that Wade didn’t understand, but he decided to let it go for now.

      He pointed to the right. “Don’t walk on that end of the porch. The pillar is rotted at the bottom and the floorboards are weak. And do not even think about going out onto the veranda upstairs.” He looked at the kids. “Do you understand?”

      “Yes, sir,” Adam replied. “We won’t go anywhere our mother tells us not to.”

      Wade took that as a backhanded reply. The boy was as defensive as his mother, and again his instincts told him something was wrong. He’d read through her application and everything checked out, but still…

      He’d keep a close eye on the Austin family.

      CALLIE COULD SENSE the sheriff’s uncertainty, so she had to be very careful and not send up any red flags. How she wished Miranda had been here to meet them.

      Wade opened the door and she noticed the beautiful beveled glass. “Is this the original door?”

      “I believe it is. Frances Haase, the librarian and a member of the Home Free Committee, has all the information on the house. It was built in 1876 by Herman Hellmuth and it stayed in the Hellmuth family until about ten years ago. Agnes Hellmuth, a spinster, died and left it to the city and it’s been sitting here in disrepair ever since. We put it in the Home Free Program hoping it would catch someone’s eye.”

      He smiled a crooked smile and Callie felt her heart do a tap dance. “You found someone,” she replied, and forced herself not to smile. “I love this old house.”

      “Then you’re in for a treat. Some of the furniture is still inside. Miss Hellmuth gave away a lot of pieces to friends in her will, but a few items are still here.”

      As she stepped in, an eerie feeling came over her—the same feeling she’d had looking at the courthouse and touching the old rocker. It was as if she’d been here before…. It was possible she’d come here as a small child, but she didn’t have time to ponder that thought as she took in the house.

      The large entry had hardwood floors, as did the rest of the house. There were parlors to the left and right and a winding staircase curled to the top floors. The wood staircase showed off ornate craftsmanship and the mahogany crown molding around the ceilings reflected the same delicate work and was at least twelve inches wide. The woodwork alone was spectacular. She couldn’t believe that no one wanted this piece of history.

      Decorative inlaid tile made the fireplaces one-of-a-kind. The original brass wall sconces and chandeliers were still hanging. Two bedrooms were downstairs, as was a bath. The rooms contained beautiful beds with headboards that reached almost to the ceiling. Callie ran her hand over the exquisite wallpaper, a delicate pink floral print. It hadn’t faded and she wondered how long it had been in the house.

      “Is this the original wallpaper?” she asked.

      “I suppose. The Hellmuths redid the house in the early fifties, installing plumbing and updating the wiring. I believe Frances said the paper was in such good shape that they kept it.”

      “It’s absolutely beautiful.”

      In the dining room, one wall was decorated with a mural of a summer country scene, with oak trees, a pond, wildflowers and the Texas Hill Country in the distance.

      “Oh, my.” It was so beautiful she could only stare at it.

      “That is gorgeous, isn’t it?” Wade remarked. “That slight yellowing in spots is from eggs. Some teenagers broke in here and threw eggs around as a joke. You could paint over it if you wanted to.”

      She shook her head. “No way.”

      He smiled slightly, touching one of the dining room chairs. “This old set is still here. The chairs are wobbly and need some work, but they’re usable.”

      The kitchen was a big mess. The cabinets were falling apart and all the appliances had been removed, leaving gaping holes. A large butcher block in the center of the room caught her eye. It was old and had been used a great deal, evident by the cuts in the wood.

      Adam opened a cabinet door. “Look, Callie. What is this?’

      As Adam said her name, a fleeting look of surprise crossed Wade’s face. But he didn’t question why her son had called her by her given name. A man of tact. She liked that. And against every sane thought in her head, she was beginning to like Wade Montgomery.

      Focus. Focus. Focus.

      She hurriedly inspected the cabinet. Inside was a tray and a rope that hung down.

      “That’s kind of like a dumbwaiter,” Wade told them, standing close to her. Tangy aftershave wafted to her nostrils and she stepped back, feeling a little out of breath.

      “The rope is on a pulley and when you pull the rope, it takes that tray to the second floor.”

      “Cool,” Brit said. “Let’s try it.”

      “I’m not sure it still works.” Wade pulled the rope and the tray traveled upward. “Well, I’ll be damned, it does.”

      “Let’s go see where it went.” Brit headed for the stairs with Adam behind her.

      “Wait,” Wade shouted. “Let me make sure those stairs are safe.” He turned to Callie. “There’s also a staircase off the kitchen.”

      The bare wood steps appeared rickety so they took the big staircase. Wade walked up first and they followed. Callie was glad for some distance. What was wrong with her? She was acting as if she’d never been around a man before. She worked with men and had had her share of dates, so what was making her so aware of this man? This Texas sheriff. That was it. Sheriff. Her sensory antenna should read: avoid at all costs. But the woman in her was getting another signal.

      The kids darted off to find the tray and Callie took a moment to get her head straight and look around. Everything was coated with dust and there was a musty smell in the air. There were four bedrooms and another parlor that contained bits and pieces of old furniture. A magnificent claw-foot slipper tub occupied the bathroom. Grime and grit coated the surface. It would take a lot of scrubbing to remove, but it would be lovely to lie in and relax, and she intended to scrub until she had it СКАЧАТЬ