Mary Baxter - Heart Of Texas

“Busy.”

“That’s wonderful.”

Sara squeezed her mother’s hand, thinking what an attractive woman she still was, even though she was in her late sixties. Like her, Katherine was tall but with a much stouter frame that was now slightly bent from osteoporosis. Still, her hair was thick and a lush color of gray that matched her eyes.

While she might look weak and fragile, she wasn’t. She was headstrong to a fault, a fact Sara had difficulty with as Katherine was her underpinnings; her daddy having died of a heart attack years earlier. Because Alice lived so far away, it sometimes seemed as if she didn’t have a sister, that it was just her and her mother.

“Why don’t you have supper with me?” Katherine’s eyes held a teasing glint. “We’re having lasagna.”

Sara wrinkled her nose. “My least favorite, which you well know.”

“Well, you can’t blame me for trying. It certainly wouldn’t hurt you to put some meat on those thin bones.”

“Don’t you start. Rosa’s already been on my case today.”

“About what?”

“Oh, the usual,” Sara hedged, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. While her mother’s body was failing, her mind was as sharp as ever.

“She worries about you being alone just like I do.”

“Now, Mother, don’t start. I’m fine the way I am.”

“That’s absurd. You don’t have a life. All you do is tend to the sick and afflicted both at the office and here.”

Sara laughed.

“It’s not funny, especially when the only man in your life is older than your mother and a codger to boot.”

“Why, Mother, I can’t believe you’re talking about Uncle Newt like that, especially someone who’s been and still is a lifelong friend.”

Newton Frazier was a retired chiropractor who had become her mentor and whom she visited on a regular basis.

“That’s the problem. He’s my friend and shouldn’t be yours. Besides, he’s not a good influence on you.”

Sara laughed and shook her head. “That makes absolutely no sense. If it weren’t for Uncle Newt, I wouldn’t have this practice and you know it.”

“You’re right, of course, but you need to be around young people, not us old folks all the time.”

“You let me worry about that, okay? Besides, I’m trying to convince Newt to move here. He’s getting too old and much too feeble to live alone.”

Her mother gave an unladylike snort. “Good luck. His head’s as hard as yours.”

Sara hid her smile. “Look, I’m happy with my life the way it is. So give me a break. Now, about my sister, have you heard from her lately?”

“As a matter of fact, I got a letter today.”

“How are things with them?”

Katherine suddenly looked troubled. “I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I sense all is not well between her and Dennis.”

“That’s nothing new. You know Alice—if there isn’t a crisis in the making, she’s not happy.”

“That’s not a nice thing to say.”

Sara shrugged. “It’s the truth. Anyhow, if there is trouble, they’ll straighten it out. They always do.”

“You’re right. It’s just that I was hoping she and the kids could pay us a visit.”

“Maybe they can,” Sara said, dropping her mother’s hand and rising to her feet. “I have to run, Mamma.”

“But, honey, you just got here.”

Sara leaned over and grazed Katherine’s cheek with her lips. “I know, but I have some errands to run.”

“Of course you do, darling. Don’t pay any attention to this selfish old woman.”

“You may be old, but you’re not selfish,” Sara returned in a teasing voice.

“Are you all right?”

Sara was taken aback by the sudden and unexpected question. “Why do you ask?”

Katherine’s forehead wrinkled into a frown. “I don’t know, really. You just look tired, as if you didn’t sleep.”

Sara hadn’t, but she didn’t intend to tell her mother that. Her encounter with Clark Garrison had preyed on her mind until the wee hours of the morning. She wondered how he’d fared this morning, if his back remained in place. If not, she was sure she’d know soon enough.

“I’m okay, Mamma. You worry too much.”

“You need a man friend.”

“Oops, now I know it’s time to go.”

“Sorry,” Katherine said.

“No, you’re not, but I guess that’s why I love you.”

Katherine gestured with her hand. “Go on, skedaddle, get out of here.”

Sara was still shaking her head when she passed by Zelma’s room only to stop dead in her tracks and blink. As if he sensed he was being watched, Clark looked toward the door. When he saw her, he stood and walked toward her.

“You look surprised,” he said without preamble.

“I am.”

His mouth tensed. “I told you I came to see my aunt.”

“So you did.”

“She doesn’t seem to be doing all that well.”

“She hasn’t for a long time now.”

He flushed, which meant her barb had hit its mark.

“Look, I know how you feel about me, but—”

“I don’t think you do,” Sara said flatly.

“You know what I meant.”

Though he tried to temper his tone, Sara picked up on his suppressed impatience and anger. It was clear he was out of his element here, and she wasn’t helping any. But he had neglected his aunt, and to her way of thinking, there was no excuse for that. She hadn’t mollycoddled him last night, and she wasn’t about to start now.

“Aren’t you going to ask about my back?”

Sara gave a start at the sudden change in his voice. It seemed lower and somewhat more conciliatory, if not on the intimate side.

Her face suffused with color. “The fact that you’re up and about answers that.”

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