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Slow Talkin' Texan
Slow Talkin' Texan

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Slow Talkin' Texan

Язык: Английский
Год издания: 2018
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“Maybe not for good, but certainly for now.”

“You’re too young to have that attitude.”

“That’s easy for you to say, Meggy. You didn’t live with Samuel.”

Meg’s face sobered along with Ellen’s. “I know it was bad, but—”

“Let’s just say that it was far worse than even you knew.”

Meg’s face turned pale. “He...he didn’t physically abuse you, did he?”

“No, but—” Ellen broke off. “Look, Samuel’s history, and I’d rather not dredge up the past.” She forced a lame smile. “Especially when I smell like stale pee.”

Meg giggled, then cocked her head to one side. “I can understand that, although Kyle only showered me one time that I can remember.” She paused. “Seriously, you wouldn’t consider going out with Porter if he were to ask you?”

“Read my lips. No, Megan!”

Meg backed up and held up her hands. “Okay, okay. I get the picture.”

“I’m not sure you do. I don’t care how much money the man has, or how much land. He’s not my type. Besides, I have my shop, and that’s enough for me. I need to heal emotionally. Only time will tell if I can handle another relationship.”

“You’re right Sorry, I got out of line. But you can’t blame me for trying. I really like Porter, and I really like you, so—” Meg broke off with a grin.

“So it ain’t gonna happen. Babies and cowboys are not my thing and never will be.”

And with that Ellen flashed her sister a saccharine sweet smile and walked out the door.

Three

Ellen couldn’t control the smile that spread across her face, even though she still smelled like a dirty diaper. Instead of going home as planned, she’d gone to the shop.

Every time she walked inside her domain, a giddy feeling washed through her. This Sunday afternoon proved no exception.

She didn’t know why she had changed her mind and come here. Maybe it was because she had wanted to prove something to herself. Even though she didn’t have the two things in her life that most women had or coveted: a husband and a child, she was nevertheless a fulfilled woman.

Envy of others’ situations was utter nonsense, she knew. Yet she couldn’t seem to toss such feelings aside as easily as she once had, especially after today and her experience in the church nursery.

However, this morning had changed nothing, except to reenforce the fact that she had made the right decision in divorcing Samuel. Conceiving a child under those circumstances would have been a disaster.

Ellen perused the coffee shop, which was at the end of a building housing several antique shops, each unique in what it sold. Coffee, Anyone? carried that uniqueness a step further in that it had a small private courtyard attached, giving her customers the feeling of drinking and dining in an atmosphere rivaling that of an open-air French café.

She had made the most of that unusual outdoor setting by decorating it to the hilt with small tables and flowering potted plants. A wonderful fountain in the middle provided an extra touch.

The inside was no slouch, either. The shelves featured a wide range of prepackaged gourmet foods, gift items from stationery to small wedding presents, and custom gift baskets.

Of course, the drawing card was the coffee. Virtually every popular gourmet brand, with frozen cappuccino the most sought after, was served. In addition, finger sandwiches, salads and delectable desserts were on the menu.

In just six months, this second Coffee, Anyone? was as successful as the larger one she’d left behind in Tyler. A friend, who was also a savvy businesswoman, was the manager there now.

But her success in Nacogdoches hadn’t been without its price. Ellen was bone-weary from working day and night to get to this stage. There had been bumps along the way, bumps that still hadn’t been smoothed out. The equipment was one of her biggest concerns. She’d had trouble with some of the machines since day one, mainly because they were used models. Soon she hoped to replace them with new ones.

She’d been fortunate with her help, which was a big hurdle to overcome. In the beginning, Meg had pitched in and helped sort through boxes. Before opening, she’d hired a college girl who so far had been good and dependable. But for the most part, the business was her baby, and she loved every minute of nurturing it.

Thinking of it as “her baby” changed Ellen’s expression from a smile to a forlorn one, her mind suddenly switching to the love she’d seen mirrored in Porter’s eyes when he’d taken his son from her arms.

More than likely she would never experience that kind of love. Still, she told herself, that was out of choice, not necessity.

“So stop the pity party,” she muttered aloud. Besides, pity parties weren’t much fun alone.

Deciding she needed a cup of iced coffee to buck up her spirits and combat the climbing June heat, Ellen made an iced cappuccino in a paper cup so she could take it home with her.

Thirty minutes later, she was in her rented patio home, out of the shower and still sipping the iced coffee. While her mind remained a bit unsettled, at least she no longer smelled.

The memory of the incident in the nursery suddenly brought on a smile, a smile that soon faded into sadness as a bout of intense loneliness struck her.

Before she could beat up on herself for wandering down that forbidden path, the phone rang. It was Meg.

“Didn’t I just leave you?” Ellen asked, a teasing note in her voice.

“That you did,” Meg responded.

“So, what’s up?”

“Want to come to dinner? Before I left for church, I put a roast and all the fixings in the Crock-Pot. I should’ve asked sooner, but I forgot.”

“Sounds tempting, but I’m not really hungry.”

“Okay.” Meg paused. “By the way, thought any more about Porter?”

“No, dammit, I haven’t. There’s nothing to think about.”

“Hey, don’t jump on me. I was just hoping.”

“Well, hope in another direction. Like I told you, it ain’t gonna happen.”

“You’re making a big mistake.”

“Well, it’s not the first one, and it sure as hell won’t be the last one, either.”

“You’re impossible.”

“You’re hard-headed.”

“I guess that makes us sorta even.”

“So I’ll talk to you later, Meggy dear.”

With that, Ellen placed the receiver back on the hook, though she continued to stare at it. One thing about Meg, she knew which buttons to push. If she could get her hands on her sister, she would strangle her, and cheerfully, too.

Porter Wyman.

She didn’t want to think about him. She didn’t want to think about any man, not in a personal way. Generic thoughts about him and his baby were harmless. But dwelling on the man himself was not a good idea.

Still, Ellen’s mind wouldn’t let go, even though she straightened the house with a vigor she should have reserved for the shop. Come morning, she had a storeroom full of “pretties” to unpack and enter on the computer.

What was there about the rancher turned businessman that had snagged her attention in the first place? Admittedly, he was good-looking in a rugged sort of way, with his dark hair, chocolate eyes and athletic build. But since her divorce, she’d run across several men who fit that mold. She hadn’t given any of them the time of day, much less anything else. She wasn’t going to give Porter anything, either.

Attractive or not, a slow-grinning man who had an infant to raise wasn’t for her. She doubted he ever would be, though she was quick not to classify herself as a cold-hearted career woman.

For now, she was into treating herself well. That was what the shop was all about It was something she had created, something she’d accomplished on her own. Before, during the Samuel years, everything had been done according to his wishes.

He had been a control freak as well as a perfectionist A perfectionist herself, she had thought she and Samuel would be a match made in heaven. She found out quickly just how wrong she’d been. Their union had turned into a match made in hell.

Maybe she would marry again, and maybe she would even have a child, just not anytime soon. The scars left from her two-year marriage were too raw.

Since she didn’t believe in wallowing in self-pity and crying over what might have been, she had picked up the broken pieces of her life and gone on. She was free to go about her life without fear of Samuel’s unwanted presence.

That was the main reason she didn’t want to get involved with another man, especially someone like Porter Wyman. Besides, she didn’t have a clue how to care for a child. No doubt he’d gotten that message today.

Thrusting aside the image of Porter’s lazy grin and gait as he came toward her, Ellen leapt off the couch, grabbed her purse and headed to the door.

The ringing phone stopped her, but only momentarily. “Not this time, Meg,” she said, walking out the door. She was going back to the office to work.

She’d had her fill of her sister and that cowboy for one day.

“Like that, huh?”

Matthew’s laughter rang out as Porter tossed him once again into the air.

“That’s all, son. Daddy has to go to work.”

“Anything special you want me to do today?”

Porter gave his son a smack on the cheek before turning to face his housekeeper and nanny, Bonnie Temple. She was an attractive, dark-haired woman with expressive green eyes.

Although she was forty-five years old, ten years his senior, she didn’t look it. Her build was slight and her hair was minus any gray, or any that he could see, anyway. But then, what did he know about hair color? His ex, Wanda, had changed hers with the seasons.

When Wanda had left him, he’d hired Bonnie immediately; she had come highly recommended. He hadn’t been sorry one day. She was great with Matthew, having reared three children of her own. Because she was a widow, she also had the necessary freedom and flexibility to care for him and Matt.

She was smiling at him now, waiting for his answer.

He smiled back. “Nope, can’t think of a thing, except to take care of my boy here.”

“That goes without saying.”

Porter handed Matthew to her.

“Is steak all right for dinner?” Bonnie asked.

“I might not be home till late, but I’ll let you know.”

Porter noticed the frown that suddenly doused Bonnie’s smile, but he didn’t comment on it. Not only did she love to clean house, but she loved to cook. If he didn’t have so much land and so many cattle to care for, he’d have to watch his waistline.

A few minutes later, Porter climbed into his fancy truck and headed toward the store, knowing he should be in the pasture mending that south fence. He would take care of that tomorrow if Joe, his foreman, didn’t get to it.

With the business and the ranch, there never seemed to be enough hours in the day, especially because he always tried to make time for Matt. That was a must. His son would always come first, no matter what.

His son.

What a perfect thought on a perfect summer day, he told himself, as he swung into his parking slot at the store a short time later.

“Morning.”

Porter climb out of the cab and watched as his friend and manager, George Hays, limped toward him. George was another person he couldn’t imagine doing without. In his late fifties, George had been injured in ’Nam. Even with a badly mangled leg, he was a workhorse. The store was an awesome responsibility, and George handled it and the customers like a pro.

But unlike him, George needed to watch his waistline. In fact, he needed to go on an outright diet, Porter thought, worried that his friend might have a stroke. Although he didn’t drink beer, George had the proverbial beer-belly.

“Don’t say a damn word,” George grumbled as they walked into the building and made their way to the coffee room at the back.

“I don’t recall opening my mouth.”

George glared at him before filling a cup with coffee. “But you were thinking it.”

Porter grinned, then filled his own cup. “Hell, don’t climb all over me. You know what you have to do. The doctor’s already warned you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Porter shook his head, sat down at the round table and remained silent, while George followed suit.

“So what else is on your mind?”

Porter narrowed his gaze. “What makes you think there’s anything?”

“’Cause I know you.”

“You old coot, you just think you know me.”

“Let’s have it.”

Porter lifted the cup and blew on the liquid, his eyes on George. After taking a sip, he said, “I met a woman.”

George harrumphed.

“I’m serious.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“After Wanda, I was under the impression you’d sworn off women.”

“I had. I have, I mean.”

“You can’t have it both ways.” George didn’t bother to hide his sarcasm.

“You’re an ass, you know that?”

George chuckled. “Okay, you’ve got my curiosity roused. Who is she?”

Porter told him, then listened as laughter bent George double. “So Matt christened her real good. And in the church, too. What a hoot!”

“That he did, and that it was.”

George chuckled again. “So what’s next?”

“Don’t know.”

And he didn’t. After Wanda left him, he had indeed sworn off women. So far, he’d kept that vow. But after meeting Ellen Saxton, he was having second thoughts—big time. Under the circumstances, what man wouldn’t? He was convinced she was the prettiest woman he’d seen in a long time, with her strawberry blond hair, periwinkle eyes and a body that made him sit up and take notice whether he wanted to or not.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“I’d like to see her again, but she’s as uptight as she is pretty. Unfortunately.”

“Too bad. Them uptight women are hell to handle.”

“You’re telling me. I seem to have a knack for getting involved with prissy, independent women.”

“Then leave her alone.”

“Afraid I can’t do that.”

“Why the hell not? If you’re hankering to play again, this town’s full of easy women.” George winked. “If you know what I mean.”

“I know what you mean, all right. But there’s something about this particular one that’s special, that intrigues me.”

“And you’re hell-bent on finding out what that something is.”

“You got it.”

George stood and peered down at his boss. “Want some advice?”

“Nope.”

“I’m gonna give it anyway.”

“Figured you would.”

“No matter how intrigued you get, keep your damn fly zipped. Okay?”

Four

What was that noise?

Ellen paused just inside the back door of the shop and listened, certain she heard something, something that sounded very much like smothered giggles. Of course, that couldn’t be. It was only a smidgen past eight-thirty in the morning. Her part-time helper, who was a college student, wasn’t due in until around ten, opening time.

Yet Ellen heard the sound again. She frowned at the same time that her heart upped its beat. Could the noise be rats? God forbid. That thought panicked her more than an intruder.

Easing down her carryall and purse, she tiptoed toward the front of the shop, only to pull up short and stare, her mouth gaping.

Janis Waller, her employee, was going at it hot and heavy with some young man. She had no idea who he was. His back was to her. Nonetheless, she could hear the sucking and moaning sounds resulting from their kissing and fondling. From where she stood, she could even see him squeezing one of Janis’s breasts.

When she finally found her voice, Ellen snapped, “The party’s over, kids.”

If she had screamed fire, they couldn’t have been more stunned. They broke apart instantly. Janis’s hand flew to her mouth, while her eyes, wide and round, landed on Ellen.

“Uh, Ms. Saxton, I didn’t expect—” she stammered.

“That’s obvious.”

Red stained the petite redhead’s cheeks as she faced the young man. Though his back was still to Ellen, she sensed he was as shaken as his girlfriend. His shoulders were as rigid as a block of wood, a block of wood that seemed suddenly familiar.

“Maybe you should introduce me to your friend,” Ellen said with a coolness she was far from feeling.

The red stain in Janis’s cheeks flared even more as the boy inched around. For a moment Ellen simply stared into his ashen face, trying not to show her shock and anger.

“Hello, Kyle.”

“Hi, Aunt Ellen.”

Another silence lasted for several heartbeats. Ellen broke it on a harsh sigh. “First off, why aren’t you in class?”

Kyle, Meg’s only child, was a senior in high school. By all accounts, he should have been in first period—unless he planned to cut classes altogether. From the looks of things, that was exactly what he planned.

If she hadn’t come in when she had, would they have been on the floor making love? Kids!

“Are you going to tell Mother?”

“No, you are.”

Though big and strong like his daddy, he seemed to wilt like an unwatered flower in the hot sun.

“I...can’t.”

“Oh, yes, you can.”

His features turned a sickly green. “She’ll kill me.”

“I doubt that, but she might want to.”

Kyle’s mouth turned down, giving it a sullen twist. “She’s been on my case about everything lately.”

“You should’ve thought of that before you pulled this little stunt.” Ellen focused her attention on Janis. “What’s your excuse?”

“I didn’t think you’d catch us,” the girl said with unexpected honesty. “I figured Kyle would be gone before you got here.”

Ellen shifted her gaze back to her nephew. “So you weren’t planning on playing hooky?”

“Nah.”

Ellen didn’t believe him for a minute, but she wasn’t about to argue. She felt sorry for her sister. This wasn’t the first trouble Kyle had been in, and it wouldn’t be the last. Still, Meg was going to have a conniption fit. With her husband ill and on the road, this stunt would worsen an already volatile situation.

Ellen held out her hand. “The key, Janis.”

What a mess, Ellen thought, as she took the key from the girl and slipped it into the pocket of her slacks. Janis Waller’s parents were both wealthy and well-respected. She had met them at a party shortly after she’d arrived in Nacogdoches. The party had been in their home, and they had asked her to give their daughter a job. Janis needed something to keep her busy when she wasn’t in class, they had told her.

Ellen could understand why now. But she had trusted Janis enough to give her a key in the event that she herself couldn’t get there to open on time. Until now, the young woman had never given her a moment’s hint that she was anything other than trustworthy and reliable.

“When did you two become an item?” Ellen asked into the growing silence.

The kids looked at each other, then both shrugged. “Several months ago,” Janis finally said.

“I see.”

Janis fiddled with the collar of her blouse. “Are you going to fire me?”

“Don’t you think I should?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Janis said, lowering her head.

“Only I wish you’d give me another chance.” Her head popped up, and her eyes were pleading. “My parents’ ll kill me, too.”

Ellen didn’t bother to hide her disgust. “Cut the dramatics, both of you. While I’m certainly offended by your actions, I’m more upset that Kyle wasn’t in school.”

“I hate school,” Kyle muttered.

“So did I,” Ellen said coldly, “but I still went.”

“You don’t understand.”

Janis looked at him, then reached for his hand. “Please, just go. Okay?”

“Yeah, I’m outta here.”

He leaned over and kissed Janis full on the lips, as if to show Ellen that she didn’t scare him. Ellen swallowed a sigh along with the urge to grab him, turn him over her knee and wallop the living daylights out of him. He was too old and too big for such antics.

Besides, he wasn’t her kid. Meg and Ralph were responsible for her nephew’s behavior, not she, thank goodness. However, she was worried. Kyle’s armor of belligerence was a legitimate concern.

Once he was gone, Janis stared at the floor again before looking back up at Ellen. “I’m sorry. Really I am.”

“I believe you.”

“You do?”

Ellen smiled. “Yes.”

“What about Kyle?”

“What about him?”

Janis hesitated, a frown marring her forehead. “He’s been acting kind of squirrelly lately. I’m not sure what’s going on.”

“Me, either. But right now, you and I have work to do. There are six boxes to unpack. That’s your job.”

“Then I’m not fired?”

“No. I believe in second chances, but not third ones.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Ellen ran a hand through her hair, and her palm came away moist. Damn, but it was hot, she thought even though the air conditioner was on as far as she dared turn it. The shop was still in the red, and she had to be careful.

What a day, and it wasn’t over yet. The morning’s escapade with Janis and Kyle had started her off on the wrong foot. Things had gone from bad to worse. When Janis started unboxing the freight, half of the items shipped turned out to be either wrong or damaged.

She’d been furious and still was. But there wasn’t anything she could do about the problem except reorder, which took time.

Ellen glanced at her watch, noticing that closing time was only thirty minutes away. She had expected to hear from Meg sometime during the day; so far she hadn’t. Apparently Kyle hadn’t told her yet or she would have called demanding Ellen’s side of the story.

Just how serious were Kyle and Janis? But how serious did kids nowadays have to be to make love? God, she hoped Janis wouldn’t turn up pregnant. That thought sent a chill darting through her. At this moment, she didn’t envy her sister having a teenager.

The Lord seemed to have known what he was doing when he hadn’t given her a child.

The buzzer on the door sounded, drawing her attention away from her maudlin thoughts. She smiled at the customer, only to have that smile disappear. Mrs. Cavanaugh. What had she done to deserve this? Ellen asked herself. Especially at the end of a hellish day?

“I’m glad I caught you,” Ruth Cavanaugh said in her haughtiest tone.

“Me, too,” Ellen lied, plastering a fixed smile on her lips.

This tall, horse-faced woman had been her cross to bear from the first day she’d opened the shop. She was one of the richest, but most miserable, women Ellen had ever met.

“This tea set I bought yesterday doesn’t work.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s the wrong color.”

Ellen sighed and held on to her temper by a thread. “Would you like to get another one?”

“No. The other colors aren’t right, either. Besides, for what it is, it’s too expensive.”

Bitch. Ellen’s fixed smile broadened. “I’ll be happy to credit your account.”

“I want my money back.”

“That’s not my policy.”

Mrs. Cavanaugh’s watery-blue eyes—a perfect match for her watery-blue hair, Ellen thought cattily—hardened. “Then change your policy.”

“Fine.” Ellen opened the cash drawer and withdrew a hundred dollars in twenties. “Here’s your money.”

“Thank you.” With that, Ruth Cavanaugh turned and marched out the door.

“Damn!” Ellen muttered, feeling her stomach churn.

Coffee, Anyone? couldn’t afford many financial hits like that one and survive. But maybe she’d saved her reputation by returning the money to the cantankerous old biddy.

Deciding her troubles just had to be over for the day, Ellen went into the back room, remembering a gift she hadn’t wrapped. She had just climbed to the top rung of the ladder to get the right box when she heard the buzzer.

Wouldn’t you know it!

If whoever had come in spent money, she wouldn’t mind climbing down. But if the customer only wanted a cup of coffee, she would not be happy. Immediately Ellen chastised herself for that attitude. A two-dollar coffee customer today could return tomorrow and buy a fifty-dollar gift.

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