Beautiful Bandit (Lone Star Legends) (19 page)

Kate blotted her forehead with the hem of her apron.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Am I right?

“I suppose I have missed a few breakfasts and suppers.”

He pursed his lips.

“Really, it doesn’t hurt all that much.”

“But you wouldn’t tell me if it did, would you?”

No, Kate thought, I would not.

“I didn’t think so.” He stood up, then helped her to her feet. “Think you can stand on your own without toppling over like a tower of Willie’s building blocks?”

“I’m fine.”

“So you say.”

“If I say I’m fine, then I’m fine!”

“And if I say I don’t believe a word of it….” Josh guided her farther into the foyer, and stopped short of the parlor door. “Why, you’re hardly limping at all. That’s pretty amazing, considering….”

Considering? Did it mean he was surprised at how quickly she’d healed? Or that he thought she’d faked the twisted ankle so he’d take pity on her and bring her home? Probably the latter, if his stern expression was any indication. Kate mustered all the boldness she could and lifted her skirt a tad, exposing the injured foot. “It is amazing, isn’t it, that something so trifling could be the answer to Lucinda’s prayers.” Dropping the skirt, she added, “You needn’t worry, Josh. Any day now, I’ll be out of your hair.”

He faced her head-on, both brows low in the center of his forehead. “That isn’t what I meant. Surely, you don’t think I’d say anything so heartless and—”

“Who’s that babbling in the hall?”

Josh gave a sideways nod of his head. “Mee-Maw,” he whispered. “Sweet old gal doesn’t miss a trick.”

Thinking he’d finished talking, Kate made a move to enter the parlor. He stopped her with a powerful hand wrapped around her arm. His lips grazed her ear as he said, “Mark my words, we will finish this conversation later.” Then, with one hand on her elbow, he led her into the room and snapped off a smart salute to the elderly woman in the big chair in which Kate usually sat with her mending. “Hey there, beautiful,” he said, bending to press a kiss to her forehead. “How’s my favorite girl feeling today?”

“If I said, ‘Never better,’ I’d be lying,” she said with a hearty chuckle. “But I reckon I’m not doing too badly—for a ‘sweet old gal.’”

Josh rolled his eyes and looked at Kate. “What did I tell you? She doesn’t miss a trick.”

Kate stood in the middle of the room, clasping and unclasping her hands and grinning like a fool.

Josh pressed a palm to her lower back, gently urging her nearer the chair where his grandmother sat. “This is Dinah Theodore,” he said, “the young woman who—”

“I know good’n’well who she is.” To Kate, she said, “Step up here, dearie, so I can get a better look at you. My old eyes don’t see quite as well as they used to.”

Kate inched forward, stopping just short of the ottoman. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Nev—”

“Name’s Esther, and I can’t tell you what a pleasure it’ll be having someone call me by my Christian name for a change.” She grabbed Kate’s hand and gave a tight squeeze. “Good to meet you, girl, good to meet you.” She aimed an arthritic finger at the sofa. “Take a load off, and talk with me until the partygoers arrive. Josh, be a good grandson and fetch another tumbler so I can share my lemonade with this beautiful young woman.”

“Please don’t think me ungrateful, Mrs. Neville, but I couldn’t possibly—”

“And why ever not?”

“Well, lemons are so hard to come by, especially at this time of year. And expensive. I surely don’t need—”

“I don’t need it, either. The good Lord hasn’t yet created the body who needs the stuff, but He sure as shootin’ made a few who need to share it!” This time, the crooked finger was aimed at Kate. “Don’t make me say it again, girlie,” she said with a wink. “The name is Esther.”

Josh shrugged helplessly and strode from the room as Kate eased onto the thick sofa cushions.

“Dinah Theodore,” Esther echoed. “A good, strong name.” She sat back, nodding. “Theodore, Theodore—what is that? English? Welch?”

Kate hadn’t thought about the origins of her borrowed name. “I hate to admit it,” was her candid reply, “but I have no idea.”

“Well, don’t you worry your pretty head about it. Things like that might matter in Boston or Baltimore, but here in West Texas, nobody pays much mind to bloodlines. Unless, of course, you’re a stud bull or a quarter horse.” Laughing, she dabbed tears of mirth from her eyes. “Don’t mind me,” she said. “But if I don’t laugh at my own pitiful jokes, who will?”

Suddenly, Kate didn’t feel the least bit intimidated by this powerful, formidable woman. And the credit for that, she knew, went to Esther.

“Lucinda tells me you’ve been a huge help to her in the time you’ve been here. Haven’t waited to be asked how you might lend a hand. Just jumped in and did what you thought needed doing.” She winked. “I thank you for that, Dinah. That poor woman works her fingers to the bone without making so much as a sigh of complaint. She’s not getting any younger, either. If you weren’t in such an all-fired hurry to leave here, I’d ask you to stay on as Lucinda’s assistant.”

How would Josh’s grandmother know she planned to leave in a day or two, when she’d made the decision only that morning?

“My eyes may not be what they once were,” Esther said, “but the Almighty hasn’t seen fit to dim my hearing.” She chuckled. “Yet.”

Kate swallowed hard, wondering what, exactly, Josh’s grandmother had overheard.

“Why the long face?” Josh asked as he reentered the room and placed a silver tray, laden with biscuits, ham, and two tumblers of lemonade, on the ottoman.

She was about to ask what he meant when he said, “Ah, I guess Mee-Maw has figured it out, too.”

Kate gulped. “I—I—”

“That you plan to leave us soon.”

She’d been careful to keep her plans and concerns to herself, and she racked her brain, searching for a thought or worry she might have uttered aloud.

Josh pointed at the tray. “By the way,” he said to his grandmother, “Lucinda said to tell you to eat this, or else.”

Esther helped herself to a slice of meat. “Or else what?” she asked around the first bite.

“Or else your medicina will make your stomach enfermo,” the housekeeper said, breezing into the room.

Esther snorted playfully. “Sick, my foot.” Patting her stomach, she added, “Cast iron, I tell you. Why, I could eat shoe leather and carpenter’s nails and not pay a price.”

“All the same,” Lucinda said, “is better to be safe than—”

“Enfermo,” the women said in unison.

Lighthearted and touching as the familial interplay was, Kate didn’t have much interest in the ongoing interchange between Esther and Lucinda. She much preferred to watch Josh, whose dark-lashed gaze brimmed with tenderness for these two very significant women in his life.

If only he could look at her that way someday. Immediately, she sniffed and shook her shoulders at the absurd thought. It brought to mind what he’d said in the hall earlier, when she’d asked what he’d told his grandmother about her. Had there been a rationale for his brusque yet accurate remark? She didn’t see how. Besides, Josh didn’t seem the good-guesser type.

Yet the possibility that he had an inkling about her true identity further justified her plans to leave this place as soon as she could. Another day or two—three, at most—and her ankle would be almost as good as new, leaving her no rational excuse to stay. After the party, once things quieted down, she’d find a way to get Josh alone, ask him to help her map out a route to Mexico, and assure him that she’d repay every penny.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Esther said, startling Kate. When had Josh and Lucinda left the room? But before she could ask, the old woman said, “Lucinda has a cake in the oven, and my grandson is checking on Callie.”

Callie? Why would he visit his horse, of all things, so soon before a huge gala?

“He says she’s been acting fussy these last few days. He thinks she got into some loco weed.” Esther winked and chuckled impishly. “I say different. In fact, if I was a bettin’ woman, I’d bet if that horse isn’t carrying a foal, he has to eat his hat.”

Kate returned the woman’s smile. “Good thing you’re not a betting woman, then.”

“And why’s that?”

“I rather like Josh’s hat.” The woman’s gravelly laughter induced a giggle of her own. “Besides,” Kate added, “he has a gift when it comes to horses, but it still wouldn’t be a fair bet, considering all your experience.”

“Three things to like about you already, and we’ve only just met.”

Kate blinked and waited for the explanation that would surely follow.

“That last remark proves you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. And it’s clear you aren’t one of the mindless ewes who’ll tack a bustle to your behind and frizz your bangs under a ridiculous hat just because some la-di-da designer from Europe says it’s fashionable.” Esther sat back and snickered. “Sorry about the little tirade, dearie, but you’ll find I’m not one to beat around the bush.”

“A practice that’s a terrible waste of time, and unnecessarily hard on the shrubbery.” But Esther had named only two things. Not that Kate was counting.

The older woman slapped her thigh. “I like you, Dinah Theodore. Not as much as my grandson does, but then, you’re his type, not mine.”

Now, what had she meant by that?

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed that you’ve turned my grandson’s head. The first gal to do it, I might add, since he buried Sadie.”

If she’d ever felt more addle-brained, Kate couldn’t remember when. She sipped her lemonade and hoped she was bright enough to swallow it without choking on the pulp.

“You did know that Josh’s wife died a few years back, right?”

“Yes,” she said quietly, “and I was sorry to hear about it.”

Esther exhaled a long sigh. “When I lost my Ezra, I was so miserable that I wanted to climb into the grave right alongside him.”

Kate remembered quite vividly how unhappy Josh had looked while telling her that his wife had died delivering twins.

“Josh took it hard, but he never grieved that way. Now, I don’t mean to say that losing Sadie didn’t pain him, because I’m sure he loved the dear girl.” Esther motioned Kate closer and whispered, “But loving her and being in love with her?” She clucked her tongue. “Two very different things, in this old woman’s book.”

Suddenly, the room seemed hotter and stuffier than it had a moment ago, and the air felt thick, making it hard to breathe. Surely she’d misunderstood Esther, because Josh’s grandmother couldn’t have meant to imply that he’d fallen in love with her!

“I know he sometimes has a standoffish way about him, and that he talks tough, and that the combination can make him seem like he has a heart of stone. But I know that boy better than most, and if you want my opinion, he behaves that way because he thinks it’s what folks expect of him.” Esther gave a little shrug. “That, and he probably figures, if he walks around like he doesn’t give a fig about anything, it’ll save him from having to explain how he really feels about things.” She paused. “And people.” The woman held a finger aloft. “But, believe you me, Dinah dear, that boy has a heart as big as Texas.” She aimed the finger in Kate’s direction. “So, you take care not to break it, you hear?”

Not knowing what to say, Kate said nothing.

Part of her didn’t want to believe Esther, because leaving here would be hard enough without the knowledge that Josh might have feelings for her. And part of her—a very large part—hoped it was true.

For, from almost the moment she’d faltered into his camp, Kate had loved the mild-mannered cowboy who had changed her entire life with nothing more than a gentle offer of help.

23

Leaning against the bark of a towering elm, Josh pretended to inspect the long blade of grass he’d just plucked from the lawn. But it wasn’t the straw that captured his interest. Instead, he watched Dinah, standing alone in the shade of the hackberry beside the wraparound porch, smiling at the children who’d gathered to hear one of Mee-Maw’s stories.

If he’d ever seen a sweeter face, he couldn’t say when.

If he’d ever seen a prettier face….

Josh exhaled the breath he’d been holding and wondered why he always became addle-brained in her presence.

Maybe it was because of her pretty, sweet face. That, and her thick, gorgeous hair. Most days, she gathered it in a loose bun, held in place with a wide strip of material that matched her shirt or skirt. And, most days, she hid the graceful contours of her feminine form behind a loose-fitting, ankle-length apron. Today, she’d donned another of Sarah’s designs, this one a pale-green dress that hugged her narrow waist and hips. The dry, Texas wind lifted her long, shimmering tresses, and he watched as they billowed out behind her like an auburn cape. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to run his fingers through those waves, to find out if they felt as soft and satiny as they looked!

Earlier, she’d rolled up her sleeves to help Lucinda serve fried chicken, and Josh silently thanked God that she hadn’t rolled them down again. Closing his eyes, he remembered long, slender fingers and white-as-snow wrists that hovered over food-laden platters as she dropped golden drumsticks and chicken wings onto guests’ plates. She was as quick with a joke as she was with a compliment and delighted them all with the quiet trill of her laughter—laughter that sounded more like birdsong than obnoxious giggles. If he concentrated, Josh could hear it, even now.