Heart of Texas Volume 2: Caroline's Child. Debbie Macomber
of scones. She set it down on the table and poured the tea, handing Jane the first cup.
Jane felt a bit conspicuous in her tank top, sipping tea from a Spode cup, but she was too thankful for Dovie’s kindness to worry about it.
“All right now,” Dovie said when she’d finished pouring. “Let’s talk.” She sat down and leaned back in her chair, pursing her lips. “Tell me some other things that have bothered you about Promise.”
Jane wasn’t sure where to start. “I have this…this sense that people don’t like me.”
“Nonsense,” Dovie countered. “We don’t know you well enough to like or dislike you.”
“You’re right. No one knows me,” Jane murmured. “I need a friend,” she said with a shrug, offering the one solution that had come to her.
“We all need friends, but perhaps you need to make more of an effort to give people a chance to know you.”
“But I have tried to meet people,” she said in her own defense.
Dovie frowned. “Give me an example.”
Jane had a list of those. An inventory of failures cataloged from the day she’d first arrived. “The party for Richard Weston,” she said. It was the first social event she’d attended in the area. Richard had been warm and friendly, stopping her on the street and issuing a personal invitation. Jane had been excited about it, had even told her family she was attending the party. But when she got there, she’d ended up standing around by herself. The evening had been uncomfortable from the start.
As the new doctor in town Jane appeared to be a topic of speculation and curiosity. The short newspaper article published about her earlier in the week had added to the attention she’d garnered. People stared at her, a few had greeted her, asked her a question or two, then drifted away. Richard had been the star of his own party, and the one time he’d noticed her, she was sure he’d forgotten who she was. For a while she’d wandered around, feeling awkward and out of place. Mostly she’d felt like a party crasher and left soon after she’d arrived.
“You were there, weren’t you?” Dovie murmured with a thoughtful look.
“Yes.” Not that it’d done Jane any good.
“You came in a suit and high heels, as I recall,” Dovie added.
“I realized as soon as I arrived the suit was a mistake,” Jane said. At the time she’d felt it was important to maintain a professional image. She was new in town and attempting to make a good impression.
“And then jeans and a cotton top to the Grange dance.”
“I didn’t realize it was a more formal affair.” She hadn’t lasted long there, either. “I wasn’t sure what to wear,” Jane confessed. She’d come overdressed for one event and underdressed for the other. “But,” she said hopelessly, “I had no way of knowing.”
Dovie nodded, silently encouraging her to continue.
“I showed up for the Willie Nelson Fourth of July picnic, too, but no one bothered to tell me Willie Nelson wouldn’t be there.” That had been a major disappointment, as well.
Dovie giggled and shook her head. “The town council’s invited him nine years running, and he’s politely declined every year, but we’ve never let a little thing like that stand in our way. This is Willie Nelson country!”
“Someone might have said something.” Jane didn’t take kindly to being the only one not in on the joke.
“That’s something you can only learn by living here. Next year, you’ll know.”
If I’m here that long, Jane thought.
“Another thing,” she said. “What’s all this about a ghost town?” Jane asked next.
Dovie’s expressive eyes narrowed. “Who told you there was a ghost town?”
Jane wondered at the swift change in her newfound friend. “I overheard two children talking. One of them mentioned it.”
“Don’t pay any attention to those rumors, understand?”
“Is there one?”
“That’s neither here nor there,” Dovie said, but not unkindly. “We have other more important matters to discuss.”
“Such as?”
Dovie’s head came back. “You.” Her face was set, her voice firm. “You’re right, you do need a friend.”
“Are you volunteering to take me under your wing?” Jane asked and hoped Dovie understood how very grateful she’d be.
“I’m too old.” Dovie’s response was fast. “I’m thinking of someone more your age.” She tapped her index finger against her chin. “You and Ellie Frasier would get along like gangbusters. Unfortunately Ellie’s busy getting ready for her wedding just now, so you’ll need to be patient.”
“Oh.” Jane’s voice was small.
“Until then, you and I have our work cut out for us.”
Jane frowned, not sure she understood. “What work?”
Dovie’s expression told Jane she’d overlooked the obvious. “We need to find out what’s wrong with everyone in this town. I’ve decided there’s nothing wrong with you, Dr. Jane. It’s everyone else, and I’m determined to find out what.”
* * *
“ALL THE COMFORTS of home,” Richard Weston said out loud. He stood in the middle of the dirt road that ran through the ghost town. “Bitter End, Texas,” he continued, “population one.” He laughed then, the sound echoing down the long dusty street littered with sagebrush and rock.
Hitching his thumbs in the waistband of his jeans, he sauntered down the dirt road as if he owned it, and for all intents and purposes, he did.
For the time being Bitter End was his home. He was proud of the good job he’d done carving out a comfortable place for himself. He figured he’d be stuck here for a while. How long wasn’t clear yet. A man on the run didn’t have a lot of alternatives.
Everything was about to catch up with him. His brother already knew he hadn’t paid that old coot Max Jordan, and he wasn’t going to be able to hide all the other charges he’d made, either. Although Grady’s business account had sure come in handy. But he’d stretched his luck to the max in Promise.
Time to move on. Hide again, only no one would ever think to look for him here. He was as safe as a babe cuddled in his mother’s loving arms. Richard had a sixth sense about when to walk away. He’d come to trust his instincts; they were what had kept him out of prison this long.
Richard kicked the toe of his snakeskin boot into the hard dry ground. He’d arrived in Promise penniless, miserable and afraid to glance over his shoulder for fear the law—or worse—was hot on his tail. He’d decided to head back to Promise on the spur of the moment, when he awoke one morning and found himself outside El Paso without money or transportation. Hitchhiking, he made his way to the central part of the state.
Luck had blessed him all his life. He hadn’t been back long before he discovered Savannah had visited Bitter End. As soon as his older sister mentioned the ghost town, he’d known what to do.
Little by little Richard had managed to squirrel away supplies, making the trek so often he no longer lost his way. Each day he managed to take something from the ranch or buy supplies on ranch credit. In the beginning it was little things, items not easily missed. Seldom-used equipment no one would notice was gone. Gradually he’d worked in the larger pricier necessities. He’d been clever about it, too.
Still congratulating himself, Richard walked up the old wooden steps to the boardwalk. He sat down in the rocking chair he’d discovered in one of the buildings