Roz Fox - More to Texas than Cowboys

“Chuck invested money in Cal & Marisa’s dude ranch. He’s what’s called a silent partner.”

“I didn’t like him. I’m glad you only went dancing with him twice, ’cause he didn’t like me, either.”

Greer helped Shelby stand and climb from the tub. Wrapping her in a towel, she gave her a big hug. “That was more than enough reason for me to tell Hazlett to take a hike. You’re number one in my life, Shelby.”

Getting into a nightgown with the cast wasn’t easy, but Greer finally figured it out. When she brushed bright, wet hair out of Shelby’s eyes, the girl ventured a question that had obviously bothered her for a while. “Mama, is there something wrong with me that my real daddy didn’t like me, and Chuck didn’t, either?”

Greer gasped. “Is that what you think? No, Shel! Your dad never even knew you were a girl. He left long before you were born. Honey, you’ve never said a word about this before. Is there something else behind your concern?”

“I guess I’m just lonely. I want a sister or brother like Luke has. But Lindsay said she heard Chuck say no man would ever marry you. I didn’t know why.”

Greer gathered the girl close and hugged her tight. After depositing Shelby in the middle of her bed, Greer tucked her in and dropped a kiss on her nose. “Lindsay’s folks said time and again that she listened at keyholes and picked up half-truths. The real story is that Chuck Hazlett got mad at me and said things to the Sandersons to cover the fact that he tried to force me into a…compromising situation. Fortunately they didn’t believe him. Oh, honey, I know you don’t understand, and it never dawned on me that Lindsay would hear, or worse, repeat what she’d heard to you and Luke.” She shook her head. “Here’s your book.” Upset, Greer straightened abruptly. “If I get married, it’s going to be to the right man. Someone good and kind.” Crossing the room, she tore into the first of five boxes stacked under Shelby’s window.

Heaving a huge sigh, the girl opened her book. But instead of reading, she asked, “Is everything Lindsay said a lie? The day we left, she said if you didn’t get married soon you’d be too old to have babies and I’d never get a sister or brother.”

Greer’s hands hovered over a box in which she could see Shelby’s stuffed toys. She pulled out two teddy bears, a rabbit and her favorite spotted dog. Arms full, Greer rained them down on Shelby’s head. “What? For the record, missy, your mom’s not so old. Not even thirty. Today, women have babies into their forties. Since it’s apparent you’re not interested in that book, it’s lights out for you, young lady.”

Her mom snatched away the book, and Shelby arranged the animals around her, then flopped into the pillows. Greer had no more than flicked off the light and plunged the room into darkness when Shelby, always a whiz at math, announced, “Mama, we’d better hurry and find me a nice daddy. If you wait till you’re forty to have babies, I’ll be twenty-two. By then I can have my own babies.”

Greer’s dry response came from outside the door. “Did you switch gears and hit me with this sister bit hoping I’d relent and get you a dog? If so, it won’t work.”

“Nope,” said the sleepy, yawning voice from the darkness. “I’ve wanted a sister lots longer than I’ve wanted a dog. It’s scary in here. Will you find our bathroom night-light, Mama?”

“Consider it done. I’ll be unpacking boxes in the kitchen for a while if you need me. Otherwise, I’ll check on you before I go to bed.”

Greer had been restoring order to the kitchen for two hours or more when she happened to glance out the curtainless window above the sink. Nothing but inky blackness, stretching as far as she could see. The night was very still. A shiver wound up her spine for no reason at all, other than maybe Shelby’s remarks about being lonely and her room being scary. Crossing her arms, Greer rubbed at scattered goose bumps.

She mentally chided such silliness. The Sandersons’ ranch had been equally far from town or neighbors. The difference was that Whippoorwill had a full staff of employees and cabins filled with guests. If all went according to plan, this place would be just as busy by the end of November.

Stepping to the door, Greer looked off in the direction of Noah’s house. Earlier, lights had flickered through the trees. Now there was nothing but blackness. She cupped her hands to the glass and peered up at a moonless sky. The kitchen clock she’d hung said it was approaching midnight. Time to go to bed. She wasn’t normally jumpy, but it’d been an eventful day. She’d be okay after a good night’s rest. In addition to everything else, there’d been a lot of emotion tied to moving home.

Greer decided that for tonight she’d leave the small light on over the sink. Father Kelley claimed there wasn’t such a thing as bad omens. Once again she recalled those anonymous letters. She’d initially wondered if someone at the bank or on the land application committee opposed her plan to open a guest retreat. The typed, unsigned notes suggested she’d be happier with a section nearer town. Or maybe she could turn one of the big older houses into a bed-and-breakfast.

Miranda insisted no one officially involved with the project would’ve sent the letters. She admitted facing opposition. It was known that Clint Gallagher had tried to raise capital to buy the whole parcel. The Dragging F would make a nice addition to the Four Aces. In any event, someone had sent the notes.

As she undressed and showered quickly before crawling into bed, Greer blanked her mind to those negative thoughts. She was here now, and she planned to stay, planned to build a good life for herself and Shelby. Just before the comfort of sleep closed around her, Shelby’s comment about their needing to find Greer a nice man brought a faint smile to her lips. It was a fantasy that made for interesting bedtime illusions. But Greer would never admit that tonight, ever so briefly, the face of such an illusive lover bore a distinct resemblance to Father Noah Kelley.

A SOUND, a woman’s scream, had Greer bolting upright out of bed, jarring her out of sleep. She grabbed the small bedside alarm. The illuminated hands showed it was just after 2:00 a.m. A cougar? No, this was the Hill Country.

A bad dream, she decided, and sank back into a crumpled pillow, hoping her heart would slow its mad gallop.

The second scream, partially muffled, ended in an eerily dragged out moan. Catapulting up again, Greer scrabbled for her robe. Seconds later, she was pounding down the hall toward Shelby’s room. By now Greer’s heart had lodged in her throat. Why hadn’t she realized immediately that her daughter might have awakened in pain or confusion caused by being in a new place?

A pencil-slim beam of light shimmering from the night-light in the bathroom landed on Shelby’s bed. Her eyes were closed and her breathing regular. The arm not encased in the cast curled around her spotted dog and a tattered teddy bear that had been Greer’s first gift to her newborn daughter.

Backing out of the room, Greer next made a cursory inspection of the house. It was when she opened the front door a fraction of an inch to scan the porch that a third garbled cry, clearly drifting up from the direction of the river, sent Greer racing back to her room to dress.

She threw on the jeans, boots and plaid shirt she’d laid out for working in the next day. This was the next day. However, she hadn’t planned to get going on so little rest.

She looked around for some means of protection, although her mind had locked on the probability that some human or animal out there needed help.

Greer had never been a proponent of guns, but she used to carry one on trail rides, and she could shoot. Now she wished she’d brought a handgun from Denver, since they were two females alone out here.