Heart of Texas Volume 1: Lonesome Cowboy. Debbie Macomber

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СКАЧАТЬ to find the place for themselves.

      Grady and his friends had set out, thinking it all a grand adventure. As he recalled, they’d spent weeks looking, and when they finally stumbled on the ghost town, it’d spooked them so badly they’d never discussed that day again.

      Grady didn’t believe in ghosts; he wasn’t a superstitious man. But the town was haunted by something he’d been too young to name or understand, something he didn’t fully comprehend even now. An unfamiliar sensation had descended on him that day, and not only him, but the others, too. He remembered the silence that had come over them, how they’d whispered to each other as if they were afraid someone could hear. He remembered a feeling of deep sadness and an ambiguous kind of threat. It hadn’t made sense then and made even less sense now.

      What mattered was his sister, and Grady didn’t want her wandering around in the country alone in search of some half-dead flowers. Especially if it meant she was wandering around in Bitter End.

      “Would you care for another helping?” Savannah asked Laredo, breaking into Grady’s thoughts.

      Laredo planted his hands on his stomach and shook his head. “As delicious as it is, I don’t think I could manage another mouthful. As I said earlier, this is one of the best meals I’ve had in years. I hope your brother appreciates what a fine cook you are.”

      Even from across the table Grady could feel Savannah’s pleasure at the other man’s remark. It sounded genuine, but Grady suspected Laredo Smith was a consummate con man, who knew a good thing when he saw it. It was clear to Grady, if no one else, that Laredo Smith was out to take advantage of his sister. Not that he had a raindrop’s chance in hell of doing so as long as Grady lived and breathed. The drifter could sweet-talk some other rancher’s sister. He’d get nowhere with Savannah; Grady would personally see to that.

      “I’ll help with the dishes,” Laredo offered.

      Grady resisted suggesting that Laredo was laying it on a little thick, but he was already out of Savannah’s good graces and she wouldn’t appreciate his sarcasm.

      “I’ll do the dishes later,” Savannah said. “It’s more important that I take care of the roses.”

      “I could help you with that,” he suggested next, and then, as if qualifying his statement, he added, “My grandmother let me help her.”

      “That...that would be lovely.”

      Grady couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen his sister this flustered.

      Like a schoolboy eager to please his teacher, Laredo stood and carried his empty plate to the sink.

      Grady couldn’t allow this to continue. It was time he set the other man straight. “Before this goes any further, you need to know, Mr. Smith, that there’s no work for you here.”

      “Excuse me,” Savannah said, her voice rising, “but I was the one who hired Laredo.”

      “I’ll be happy to drive you back into Promise myself,” Grady volunteered, ignoring his sister. “Would now be convenient?”

      The two men glared at each other.

      “Grady,” Savannah protested, but to no avail. He’d tuned her out, unwilling to listen to her arguments.

      When she couldn’t attract his attention, Savannah tried reaching Laredo. She said his name, but he, too, ignored her, eyes locked with Grady’s. The silent battle of wills didn’t last long. Slowly Laredo’s shoulders relaxed, and he nodded. “Now would be fine.”

      Grady hadn’t expected him to capitulate this easily. If anything, he’d anticipated an argument. Laredo Smith was no fool. The way Savannah had fussed over him at dinner, blushed and made a general idiot of herself, there was no telling how much the drifter could take her for.

      “I’ll get my saddle.”

      “No!”

      Savannah’s cry caught them both off guard. Grady’s attention flew to her, as did Laredo’s.

      Her face was red and her hands had tightened into fists. “If you two had listened to me earlier, I could have cleared this up immediately.” She exhaled a long shaky breath. “I was the one who hired Laredo.”

      “And I said I don’t need anyone just now,” Grady countered brusquely.

      “I didn’t say I hired him to help you, Grady. Laredo Smith is working for me.”

      Two

      Laredo sat on the thin mattress and nursed his aching ribs. They hurt a little less now that the aspirin had had time to take effect. Without asking, Savannah had handed him the pills after dinner, as if she knew intuitively how uncomfortable he’d been. She continued to fascinate him, but it was abundantly clear that her big brother wasn’t keen on Laredo hanging around her. Not that Laredo blamed him. If Savannah was his sister, he’d keep a close eye on her, too.

      Following dinner, they’d transplanted the old roses she’d found that day. Afterward she’d proudly walked him through the flower garden, telling him the names of various plants, describing their characteristics. She grew azaleas, rhododendrons and many others, some of which he’d never seen before. A hedge of sunflowers separated the flowers from a small herb garden. And then there were her roses.

      As she led him down the narrow pathways of her rose garden, she stopped to tell him about each one. It was almost, he thought fancifully, as if she were introducing him to her children. Little pieces of her heart, planted and nourished in fertile ground. From the way her roses flourished, she’d obviously lavished them with love and care.

      The rows of old roses were what impressed him most—but no less than Savannah’s knowledge of their histories. She was able to tell him where each one had come from and when it was first grown. Gesturing in her enthusiasm, she lost her large straw hat; Laredo stooped to pick it up. She smiled as he returned it, but didn’t interrupt her history of the Highway 290 Pink Buttons—small roses with double blossoms. Found in this part of Texas, she told him proudly. Her voice was full of reverence as she spoke of the inherent beauty of the old roses, their perfect scent, their ability to survive.

      When they’d finished walking around the garden, she wrote out a list of tasks she had in mind for him. Laredo listened carefully, had her show him where he’d find the supplies he’d need and promised to get started first thing in the morning. He was eager to prove she hadn’t made a mistake by hiring him, and that her trust in him had been well placed. Saying it was one thing, but the proof was in the results.

      In the morning, as soon as he finished dealing with his truck, he planned to be in that rose garden working his fool head off. It wasn’t wrangling, wasn’t what he knew best, but if he treated the roses with the same respect and appreciation he did a good quarter horse, then he’d do fine.

      “Cowboy, you got everything you need?” A froggy male voice cut into Laredo’s musings, startling him. He swiveled around to find an older man standing just inside the large bunkhouse. Two rows of beds lined the floor—like an army barracks; at the other end was a door leading to the foreman’s private room.

      “Wiley Rogers,” the foreman said.

      “Laredo Smith. And yes, thanks, I’m fine for СКАЧАТЬ