Slow Waltz Across Texas. Peggy Moreland

Slow Waltz Across Texas - Peggy  Moreland


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tell you that I made a few appointments for you.” Her mother frowned as she took in Rena’s current dress…or lack thereof. “But you’ll need to hurry and change out of your swimsuit and into something more appropriate in order to make them on time.”

      “What appointments?”

      “At the day spa,” her mother replied, looking pleased with herself. “I thought you might enjoy an afternoon of pampering. Manicure, pedicure, a massage. And darling Jon Mark agreed to work you in for a shampoo and style, as well.”

      Rena drew in a deep breath, fighting for patience. Forty-eight hours in her parents’ home and her mother was already trying to take control of her life again. “Thanks, Mother,” she said as she brushed past her, “but I already have plans for the afternoon.”

      Gloria spun to stare after her. “But the appointments have already been made! I simply can’t cancel now. Not after Cecille went to such trouble to rearrange everyone’s schedule, in order to work you in.”

      Rena stopped and slowly turned. “I’m sorry that Cecille will be inconvenienced. But, as I said, I have plans.”

      Gloria planted her hands on her hips. “And what plans could you have possibly made that are so important that they can’t be changed?”

      “I’m taking the twins to see Clayton this afternoon.”

      Her mother stared at her a moment, then waved away Rena’s plans as if unimportant. “Well, if that’s all that’s keeping you from enjoying a day at the spa, then there’s no problem. I can take the children to see Clayton.”

      “That won’t be necessary. I—”

      Her mother held up a hand. “I refuse to listen to another word. You’re going to the spa.” When Rena opened her mouth to argue further, her mother caught her hands in hers and squeezed, her expression turning solicitous. “Please, darling,” she begged softly. “Let me do this for you. You’ve been under such a tremendous strain. An afternoon at the spa will do you a world of good. You’ll see. Please say you’ll go.”

      Rena felt herself weakening.

      “Please?” her mother coaxed. “If not for yourself, then do it for me.”

      Knowing how fruitless it was to argue with her mother, Rena sagged in defeat. “Oh, all right. If you’re sure you don’t mind taking the children to see Clayton.”

      “Of course I don’t mind, darling!” Gloria slipped an arm around Rena’s waist and hugged her against her side. “And I don’t want you worrying about a thing while you’re at the spa,” she lectured as she guided Rena to the rear staircase. “You just concentrate on enjoying yourself. No one deserves an afternoon of pampering more than you. Stuck out on that godforsaken ranch all alone with two young, active children.” She made a tsking sound with her tongue. “I wonder how you stood it as long as you did.”

      After spending four hours at the day spa being pampered, polished and fawned over, Rena returned to her parents’ home feeling relaxed and renewed. Maybe Mother was right, she reflected grudgingly as she entered the side door that opened from the portico into the kitchen. An afternoon of pampering might have been exactly what she needed to put her in a better frame of mind.

      As she stepped into the kitchen, Brittany turned from the breakfast bar, wearing a milk mustache. “Mommy!” she squealed, and flung her arms wide, inviting a hug.

      “Hi, sweethearts,” Rena said, catching both her children in an exuberant hug.

      “Mrs. Carson made us cookies,” Brandon said, his expression serious as always as he held up one, minus a bite, as proof.

      Rena smiled fondly at the housekeeper who stood on the opposite side of the bar. “Spoiling them, I see.”

      Tipping up her nose, Mrs. Carson folded her hands primly at her waist. “No more than I did you, when you still lived at home.”

      Laughing because she knew what the housekeeper said was true, Rena plucked a chocolate chip cookie from the plate and took a bite before glancing down at the twins. “So what all did you two do this afternoon?”

      “Went shopping with Nonnie.”

      Rena’s smile slowly melted as she stared at Brittany. “Shopping? But didn’t Nonnie take you to see Daddy?”

      “Uh-uh. She took us to the mall. I got a new dress and a necklace, and Brandon got a watch.”

      “See?” Brandon said proudly, waving his arm in front of his mother’s face.

      Rena caught his wrist and pushed his arm back in order to admire the new watch. “Yes, I see,” she said, forcing a smile for her son’s sake.

      She glanced over at Mrs. Carson. “And where is Mother?” she asked pointedly.

      Avoiding Rena’s gaze, the housekeeper set the plate of cookies on the counter in front of the twins and turned away. “Getting dressed for dinner,” she said, then cast an uneasy glance over her shoulder and added, “She’s invited a guest.”

      “Who?” Rena asked, praying that her mother had fulfilled her promise by inviting Clayton to dinner.

      “Uncle Bill,” Brittany supplied helpfully. “He’s nice. When we were at Pawpaw’s bank, he let me and Brandon play with his computer.”

      Furious with her mother for not taking the children to see Clayton as she’d assured Rena she would, Rena reached for the phone. “Set another plate, Mrs. Carson. We’ll be having another guest for dinner.”

      The call Clayton had waited on all afternoon finally came while he was at the boarding facility, feeding and exercising his horse. But the message Rena had left for him with the hotel’s switchboard operator, inviting him to join the Palmers for dinner, wasn’t the one he’d expected, nor was it how he’d have chosen to spend his evening, if he’d been given a choice.

      But he would have dinner at his in-laws’ house, he told himself as he settled his hat over his head, if that’s what it took to get to see his wife and kids.

      Yet, even knowing he had an evening with his family to look forward to, Clayton still found himself stopping at the foot of the circular drive that curved in front of his in-laws’ home and looking up at the stately mansion, feeling all the old inadequacies stealing over him.

      Rena’s childhood home had always intimidated him, as did her parents. The house screamed money and permanence, two things that had been conspicuously missing from his own life, until a few short years ago. And though he was sure his current net worth didn’t come close to matching that of his wife’s parents, he’d come a long way in closing the gap that had once separated them.

      He’d worked hard at rodeoing and had made quite a name for himself, winning four World Champion Calf Roper buckles, and missing out on two other buckles by fractions of a second. With success had come commercial offers for endorsements, though he still couldn’t get used to seeing his face plastered on billboards and staring back at him from glossy magazine ads.

      And he’d thought he had created a sense of permanency, as well. The fifteen-hundred-acre ranch near Austin, Texas, was home to him…or at least it had been, before Rena had packed up the kids and left. Now the very thought of returning there alone made his stomach knot in dread.

      He wouldn’t go home alone, he told himself, and forced himself to take that first step up the drive. Rena, Brittany and Brandon would be going home with him. He wouldn’t allow himself to even consider any other possibility.

      Frowning, he punched the doorbell, then stepped back, listening to the muffled Westminster chime echo through the house’s expansive interior. From the opposite side of the door, he heard the impatient click of high heels on the marble entry and knew who would greet him at the door. Tensing, he braced himself for the confrontation as the door opened.

      “Good evening, Clayton.” Mrs. Palmer offered him a stiff smile


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