CLEMENTINE RETURNED Thursday, just in time to join the rest of the family at a barbecue at Joe Bob Brooks’s Hell-on-the-Handbasket Dude Ranch. After the tension-packed week she’d had thus far, Maxi was delighted to greet Rand’s sister.
Maybe Clemmie could help her forget that she’d made an awful mistake telling Rand her life story. At the time, she’d rashly thought it might encourage him to be a bit more open to her questions. It hadn’t, and now she felt more vulnerable than ever.
Nor did it help that Meg didn’t like her new daughter-in-law. Not that Meg said or did anything overt; her manners were far too good for that. But Maxi could feel Rand’s mother watching, always watching…. It was completely unnerving.
And Jesse…Maxi sighed. Jesse seemed to like her, all right, but he didn’t believe in the marriage, either. Or maybe he simply didn’t believe in his son. Rand and his father circled each other like a couple of big dogs, their expressions hostile and their mouths tight.
Clemmie’s presence brought relief to everyone. Bright and pretty and ready for fun, she swept everyone along with her, including her father and brother.
As now, when they all stood gathered in the front yard for the short trip over to Joe Bob’s. Clemmie took command.
“Rand, you and Max go in your rental car and I’ll ride with Mama and Daddy. That’ll give you time to warn her about ol’ Joe Bob.” Her smile wrinkled her nose.
“You could come with us if you want,” Maxi invited.
“Max, don’t argue,” Clemmie said. “You and my big brother hardly have any time alone at all, except at night, I mean.” She said it with perfect aplomb. “I’ll ride back with you if the old folks decide to leave early.”
Meg, who must be in her early fifties, laughed. She could afford to; she didn’t look a day over thirty in her linen slacks and yellow silk blouse. “Who are you calling old folks, young lady?” she scolded, draping an arm over her daughter’s shoulders and drawing her toward the sports-utility vehicle parked on the graveled driveway.
Jesse fell in beside them. “Speak for yourself, woman. I only go to these things because Joe Bob’s an old friend. Leavin’ early is the only thing I have to look forward to.”
Smiling, Max climbed into the rented convertible next to Rand. When they were headed down the lane for the road, she said, “I have a question.”
“Shoot.”
“Why do you call your parents ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’ while your sister calls them ‘Mama’ and ‘Daddy’?”
He seemed to give that serious consideration. After a couple of miles, he said, “Mama and Daddy are real Southern. I’ve known sixty-year-old men who still called their parents that.”
“But you don’t.”
“Max, I’m not Southern. Or maybe I’m part Southern, but most of me is…”
“Is what, Rand?”
“I started to say pure New England, but that isn’t true, either. If I was pushed, I’d have to say I don’t really belong anywhere.” He glanced at her, his expression guarded. “I’m a citizen of the world, I guess you could say.”
She felt a twinge of sympathy for this man who’d grown up with everything she hadn’t: wealth, of course, but also an extended family. “It doesn’t have to be that way,” she said.
“What way?”
“Estranged from your father.”
“Estranged! I’m not—”
“You are, Rand. You and your father strike sparks, and your mother is constantly tense with the effort to keep peace. Only Clementine seems able to bring everybody together.”
“You’re wrong,” he said flatly. “I’m not close to my father, I’ll admit that, but it’s nobody’s fault. We don’t know each other very well, but what he knows, he doesn’t like.”
He’ll like it even less when he finds out you’re on the wrong side of the law, she thought, but didn’t say. How had a man with Rand’s advantages got himself into such a mess?
For she’d just about come to the conclusion that the Coconutty escapade was a mess, and he probably hadn’t intended to do anything wrong. He had doubtless rationalized the whole thing long ago.
But he couldn’t rationalize Helen, an innocent victim of his greed. Maxi must keep that firmly in mind. She couldn’t get mixed up in his family problems.
So she said, “Let’s change the subject. Tell me more about this Joe Bob.”
Good choice; his stiff shoulders relaxed. “Joe Bob rodeoed with my dad—my daddy.” He cast her a challenging glance. “When his first wife divorced him, he quit the circuit, bought the old Bar B and turned it into a dude ranch. I understand he recently remarried, but I don’t know who.”
“You like him,” she guessed.
“He’s a man’s man, if you get my drift—a bit crude and occasionally rude, but a good ol’ boy nonetheless. My mom, on the other hand, can barely stand him, though she tries to hide it.”
“And this event tonight is…?”
“Just a big cookout and talent show for his current crop of dudes. He likes to include us Taggarts because he and Dad go back so far.”
Ahead loomed the entrance to the dude ranch with the name emblazoned on a wooden sign suspended above the road, complete with the slogan: Punch A Cow With Old Joe Bob.”
This, Maxi thought, should be interesting.
ONCE HE’D CLIMBED out of the convertible, Rand helped Max out and slid an arm around her waist in a friendly gesture. She must be getting used to it; she didn’t jump or glare, just tensed ever so slightly.
“There’s Joe Bob.” Rand pointed toward a cluster of Western-dressed men and woman. “Come meet him, and then we can kick back and enjoy the proceedings.”
Joe Bob turned from his dudes, saw Rand, grinned and waved. His belly sagged even farther over his ornate silver belt buckle than it had the last time Rand saw him, and his white Stetson was even bigger. The plaid shirt strained at the pearl snaps holding it over that massive expanse, making his hips and legs look downright spindly.
Rand stuck out his hand. “Joe Bob.”
Joe Bob yanked and Rand found himself mashed against the big chest, fists pounding on his back. “Dang it, boy, that’s no way to greet your daddy’s oldest and best buddy,” the man declared. Shoving Rand away, he grinned, then gave him another crushing hug.
Out of breath and disconcerted, Rand found his voice and regained his space at the same time. “Joe Bob, I want you to meet my wife, Maxine.”
“I heard you got hitched. Mighty glad to make your acquaintance, little lady.”
Joe Bob turned on Maxine, and darned if she didn’t submit to his embrace with good grace. By the time he let her loose, she was gasping for breath, but apparently not unhappy about it.
Joe Bob beamed. “Now I gotta little surprise for you. You remember Donna, don’t you?” He gestured for a slender dark-haired woman to join them. She did, smiling mischievously.
“Sure.” Rand returned the smile. “Good to see you, Mrs. Dobbins.”
“She ain’t Miz Dobbins no more,” Joe Bob crowed. “She’s Miz Brooks. Her boy, Shane, is around here somewheres, too.” He faced Maxine. “Your pa-in-law saved Shane’s bacon when he was just a button. He—”
“A button?” Maxine inquired.
“Just a kid,” Joe Bob explained. “Knee high to a grasshopper—you know.” He cocked his head. “Where you from, Maxine?”
“Chicago.”
“Well, that explains it.” Joe Bob gave Rand a pitying glance. “Anyway, twenty years or better ago, J.J.—that’s what I call Jesse James Taggart, knowin’ him so long and all—J.J. bulldogged a horse rid by Little Billy Vaughn that was about to stomp Shane into the dirt. Happened on a Fourth of July. I’ll never forget it if I live to be a hundred. There we were, havin’ a good time, when—”
Donna clapped her hand over his mouth, cutting him off in midrant. “Joe Bob, don’t go into one of your long tales. Let these kids get something to drink and meet a few young people. Honestly, they couldn’t be less interested.”
“I’m interested,” Max said quickly. At their curious glances, she smiled. “I’m very interested. I have a lot to learn about the Taggarts and you seem to know all about them.”
“See?” Joe Bob gave his wife a triumphant glance. “Ol’ Randy found himself a real smart gal, even if she is a damnyankee.”
“Go,” Donna said to Max and Randy. “Go before he gets started again.”
They went, laughing, heading for the big washtub overflowing with ice and beer.
MAXI, Randy, Meg and Clementine loitered beneath the shadows of a cottonwood tree, watching the party flow around them.
“So,” Clementine said to Maxi, “did you meet our host?”
Maxi rolled her eyes. “I sure did. He’s a real character.”
“And then some. Watch out for him, though. He’s the worst practical joker in the world.”
Meg sniffed. “Some of his jokes aren’t all that funny.” She glanced around almost accusingly at Jesse, standing across the ranch yard in conversation with several men. “Excuse me, I need a word with my husband.”
Clementine watched her mother go, then looked at Maxi. “I’ll bet you wonder what that was all about.”
“I’m mildly curious.”
“Randy, did you ever hear that story?”
“Apparently not, since I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Clementine’s tone grew conspiratorial. “The way I’ve pieced it together, it happened while Mama and Daddy were tryin’ to reconcile—you know, Randy, when you were five or six and I was just a gleam in Daddy’s eye? It was when the great-grandpas blackmailed them into coming back to the old cabin.”
“I know about that,” Maxi assured her.
“But you don’t know the whole story, I’ll bet. See, Joe Bob never liked Mama much because she was a damnyankee and took Daddy away to boot. Apparently Joe Bob wasn’t all that keen on a reconciliation, so he put a pair of black lace unmentionables in Daddy’s pocket. Naturally Mama found them. I don’t know exactly how it played out, but there was hell to pay.”
Maxi was horrified. “What a rotten trick!”
“I’ll say.” Rand shook his head in disbelief. “I’m surprised Joe Bob survived to tell about it.”
“I don’t think he did—tell about it, I mean,” Clementine said. “I picked up bits and pieces from Mama and Grandpa Thom T. or I wouldn’t know myself. Anyway, he’s paid for what he did big-time, so it’s probably better off forgotten.”
She glanced around, waving at a handsome young cowboy loitering near the glowing barbecue, beer can in hand. “There’s Shane Dobbins. Let’s say hi.”
“Shane Dobbins.” Maxi glanced at Rand. “Son of Donna Dobbins Brooks, saved from being horse-stomped by J. J. Taggart?”
“One and the same.” His approval warmed her. “Let’s go watch him moon over Clemmie for a while. I see Little Billy’s joined him—”
“Little Billy Vaughn?” Maxine stared at the huge man in cowboy gear. “That’s Little Billy Vaughn?”
“He wasn’t called little because he was little,” Rand said. “He was called that because his father, who’s about five-five, was already Big Billy. The son just naturally had to be—”
“Oh, Rand!” She squeezed his arm, laughing up at him. “It must be wonderful to be part of all this. You don’t know how lucky you are.”
And I never truly realized how unlucky I was, Maxi thought as they strolled toward the little group consisting of Clemmie and her admirers. If this was real…if I was really about to become a part of all this—
But she wasn’t. It was stupid to think about it.
“HAVIN’ A GOOD TIME, honey?” Joe Bob dropped a heavy, if friendly, arm around Max’s shoulders and squeezed.
Rand frowned. He wasn’t too crazy about seeing his wife manhandled, but she didn’t seem to mind, judging by the way she smiled up at the bulky dude rancher.
“We’re having a great time, aren’t we, Rand?”
“Yeah, great.”
“Wal,” Joe Bob drawled, “it’s about to get better. Maxine, I want you to come on over here and sample the world’s greatest chili.”
A chorus of groans from Clemmie and her admirers greeted this invitation.
“Don’t do it,” Clemmie cautioned. “Joe Bob’s chili could peel the hide off a buffalo—if you could find one dumb enough to eat it.”
“Ah, stop that,” the chili cook complained. “I’ve reformed. By Texas standards, my chili’s downright mild these days.”
Max turned questioning eyes toward Rand, who shook his head.
“I wouldn’t recommend it. Joe Bob’s been feeding that stuff to unsuspecting tourists and dudes for decades. It’s guaranteed to scorch your tonsils.”
Max’s eyes widened. “I’m sure you’re exaggerating. A nice man like Mr. Joe Bob Brooks wouldn’t do a thing like that.”
Joe Bob looked alarmed. “Not on purpose,” he blustered. “But if you thank it’s too much for you—”
“Not at all. I’d love to try your chili.”
“Maybe you better not. I wouldn’t want to—”
“Relax, Joe Bob. It’ll be fine.” An almost-smile tickled the corners of her mouth. “Lead the way.”
“If you’re sure…” A bit wild-eyed, he glanced at Rand. “Is it okay with you, Randy?”
Rand laughed. “Max is a big girl. She’s been warned. She wants chili, give her chili.”
The small knot of people headed for the chuck wagon, set up at one edge of the broad meadow fronting the ranch house. Apparently intrigued by the procession, others began to tag along. By the time they reached the chuck wagon, just about everyone in attendance was with them.
Joe Bob picked up an apron cast over the wooden tailgate. Cinching it around his broad middle, he said defensively to Max, “You sure you’re sure?”
“Very sure.”
“Okay, but everybody remember—” He appealed to the audience. “She asked for it.”
“Joe Bob Brooks, don’t you dare give that girl any of your awful chili!” Meg Taggart thrust her way through the fringes of the crowd. “Make him stop, Jesse!”
Jesse, at her heels, laughed. “Lighten up, Meggie. Maxine’s probably never eaten chili with rattlesnake meat and possum gizzards in it before.”
Finally Max looked shaken. “Do possums have gizzards?”
Joe Bob nodded. “They do in Texas. I also use special imported tomatoes and all kinds of larrupin’ stuff. Here.” He picked up a ladle and plunged it into the simmering pot of red. After filling a foam cup, he selected a plastic spoon and offered both to Max.
Who was looking something less than confident. With a tentative smile, she took the cup and spoon from the beaming cook.
Clemmie leaned close. “I wouldn’t.”
Max eyed Rand. “Does this stuff really have rattlesnake and possum in it?”
“No.” He chuckled. “That’s just window dressing for dudes. But it does have more chili peppers than you’ll ever want to meet up close and personal.” He slipped an arm around her and kissed her cheek. “You don’t have to do this, hon.”
“I want to.” She dug into the cup, pulled out a heaping spoonful and stared at it for a moment. Inhaling deeply, she lifted the spoon to her mouth.
Rand held his breath and so did everyone else, it seemed. Max chewed thoughtfully, swallowed, picked up another bite and ate that, too.
They all let out their breath on a long, anticlimactic “Ahhhh….” Even Joe Bob, who stood to take a lot of flack if his chili did any real damage, appeared disappointed.
“So how is it?” he finally asked.
“Good. Really good.” Max scraped the last big spoonful out of the cup. “Have a bite, darling.” She lifted the spoon toward Rand.
Her casual use of the endearment sent a shiver shooting down his spine. Damn, he liked hearing it. He liked it when she treated him as what he technically was: her husband.
He had the name, but he sure as hell didn’t have the game. In that instant, he admitted he wanted the game—and her. She might not be one of those glamorous creatures he was accustomed to, but what she had was infinitely more important: a caring heart and a beautiful soul. If he hadn’t already realized that, the sad story of her early life would have convinced him.
Covering her hand with his, he guided the spoon to his mouth, taking what she offered. Even before he swallowed, he knew he’d made a mistake. Choking, he backed away, feeling as if flames were shooting from the top of his head. His face must be beet red; his mouth sure as hell was on fire.
“Rand!” Alarmed, Max grabbed his arm. “Are you all right?”
“Water!” he croaked. “Beer! Something!”
“Oh, gosh—”
He didn’t know where she got the cup of water, but he downed it gratefully. Eyes tearing, he spotted Joe Bob on the sidelines, looking pleased.
“Doggone you, Joe Bob! What did you put in that stuff?”
“Just the usual. Possum gizzards, rattlesnake and imported tomatoes. Guess I didn’t stir it well, though, ’cause all the chili peppers went to the bottom. Sorry, Randy, but at least the little lady didn’t get bushwhacked.” He raised his voice. “All right, folks, line up over there. We’re about to start serving. Anyone wants to can sample the world’s greatest chili, but I got another pot a’ that stuff for the sissies.”
He led the way around the end of the wagon toward the barbecue pits.
Rand, over the worst of it, sucked in a deep shuddering breath. He’d never tasted anything so hot in his entire life. How had Max done it?
She smiled. “That was nice of you.”
“What was nice of me?”
“Giving Joe Bob and the dudes the reaction they wanted. I didn’t realize until the second or third bite that I’d goofed up. If I’d been thinking—but you did great.”
“Max, I wasn’t being nice. I nearly did myself in with that one bite. How did you stand it? How could you shovel that stuff in without a quiver?”
“Because I liked it.” She grinned impishly. “The chili peppers didn’t worry me—it was the possum and rattlesnake. See, my mom’s boyfriends used to, uh, come and go, and a couple of them were Mexicans who liked to cook. I can even chew those mean little peppers without blinking. That’s also how I learned Spanish.”
The ingenuous way she made her explanation stunned him. So did the life she’d led. “Maxine Taggart,” he said, “you’re one in a million.” When he linked her name with his, her eyes went wide, but she didn’t say anything. “C’mon, let’s go find something we can both eat.”
With his arm around her waist, they strolled toward the barbecue pits. Her body felt firm, yet yielding, and somehow he found himself speculating on how it would look beyond the few brief and guilty glimpses he’d already had.
“ATTENTION! Attention, y’all!” Joe Bob waved his arms until everyone glanced up from their plates of ribs, coleslaw, tortillas and chili. “I gotta few announcements to make before we move on to the dancin’.”
“Speak up, Joe Bob!” one of the dudes yelled from the back of the crowd. “We don’t want to miss a word!”
“You won’t, don’t worry.” Joe Bob’s voice carried clearly. “First of all, I have a little announcement for my guests. The hayride will start at six tomorrow, not seven like we said before. The day after that will be dude day at the Hells Bells Low Life Saloon for y’all who want a taste of the Old West.”
A smattering of applause greeted this announcement. Maxi thought that Joe Bob must be a great dude rancher, because all the dudes seemed to be crazy about the man.
“Guess that’s about it—”
“Hold on, Joe Bob.” Donna climbed up beside him on the bench. “I’ve got an announcement myself.”
Joe Bob blinked. “Okay, honey. Say your piece.”
Donna grinned. “I just thought everybody would like to know that we have honeymooners with us tonight.”
Maxi’s stomach clenched into a hard knot of dismay. Donna was just about to enlarge the conspiracy.
“Randy and Maxine Taggart, come on up here.”
Rand chuckled. Leaning forward, he whispered one word into her ear: “Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” Licking her lips, Maxi rose, Rand with her. At the bench, she turned to face the crowd, clinging to his hand.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Donna said, “Randy’s folks were pioneers in this area and a lot of us have watched him grow up. We’ve been waiting a long time for him to pick a bride. Now he has, and as we all saw, he didn’t pick a sissy! Maxine may be from Chicago, but I think she must have been a Texan in another life, judging by the way she handled that chili.”
Enthusiastic applause greeted this announcement. Even Jesse and Meg seemed to approve.
“Let’s give the newlyweds a big round of applause. May they have as many years of happiness as Randy’s folks have had.”
Surrounded by smiling well-wishers, Rand turned Maxi to face him. His warm expression gave her a little start. Then he drew her into his arms, lowered his head and kissed her.
A gentle kiss that still managed to send shock waves to buckle her knees. Leaning against his firm chest, she reveled in the possessiveness of his lips. The sounds of the crowd disappeared and she stood alone with Rand in an embrace that felt more like prologue than epilogue.
He lifted his head and she opened dazed eyes. Over his shoulder, she saw Joe Bob grinning like a Cheshire cat. Her cheeks burned with private embarrassment. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin, fighting the realization that the kiss hadn’t been phony, as it should have been. It had been real.
Too real. What was happening here?
“LET’S GO HOME, Jesse.”
He’d been talking to Joe Bob and one of the dudes, a dignified older gentleman who was a retired stockbroker from Chicago. He looked up with a quick smile for her.
“Sure, honey.” He straightened away from the large rock where he’d leaned a booted foot. “How about Clemmie?”
“She’ll come later with Randy and Maxine.”
“That’s good.” He tipped his Stetson. “Thanks for the invite, Joe Bob. Good meetin’ you, Chester.”
“See you later, J.J.”
“Do you mind?” Meg asked while they crossed the grassy meadow toward the graveled parking lot.
“If I did, I’d have said so.” He slipped his hand beneath her elbow as if he wanted her as close as possible.
She gave him a grateful glance. “I love you, Jesse,” she said, the words coming from the very depths of her heart. “I’ve always loved you.”
“I love you, too, honey.” He held the door to the pickup truck for her. Once behind the steering wheel, he went on. “That guy Chester was telling me about this big scandal going on in Chicago. Seems Randy’s old college roommate, Bill Overton, is mixed up in it. You remember Bill, don’t you?”
“How could I forget? He was a natural-born con man. I never could understand why Rand put up with him.”
“Yeah, well, apparently Bill bilked investors in that company he inherited out of millions. I’m just glad he and Randy didn’t keep up their friendship.”
“Not that we know of, anyway.”
He gave her a sharp glance, his movement illuminated by moon glow. “Yeah. Randy’s got enough problems without that.”
“Meaning what?” She couldn’t help the way her voice rose to a challenging note. Jesse had always been too hard on their son.
“Meaning that if he’s really married to that girl—”
“You doubt even that? Jesse, she showed me the marriage license.”
“Even so…” He drove for a few minutes in silence and then he burst out, “If he’s really married, he’d better grow up and settle down. He wants the Rocking T, but what for?” He answered his own question. “To sell, that’s what for. He wants the money, Meggie. That’s all.”
“I don’t think so,” she argued, although it wasn’t really true. “You said yourself that he seems to really care for Maxine.” She laughed ruefully. “God, you’re as ambivalent about this marriage as I am. I just have to hope Maxine likes the ranch, because if she does…”
His laughter sounded indulgent. “You’ve always made excuses for him. Give me one good reason to believe that a rich kid from Boston and a poor girl from Chicago have a prayer of making a go of marriage.”
“Don’t put me on the defensive,” she said. She thought about that for a minute…and then she knew she had him. “Here’s a good reason,” she said. “Think back to a rich girl from Boston and a country boy from Texas. Jesse, the odds we faced were at least as long as theirs. You were living out the male fantasy of the cowboy—a self-sufficient loner pursued by crowds of women. I never actually believed that any woman would ever become indispensable to you…even me.”
“And you wouldn’t settle for anything less,” he said softly. Pulling into the ranch yard, he killed the engine. “Remember another night when we came home from one of Joe Bob’s dude barbecues?”
“Yes. Oh, yes. I tried to run away from you that night….”
“But not very far or fast. I caught you on the steps…picked you up and kissed you. What happened then was inevitable because I loved you so damn much. None of our problems meant a damn thing at that moment.”
“I hope Randy and Maxine feel that way about each other.”
“So do I, but I’m not holdin’ my breath.”
“I am. We made love that night, Jesse, for the first time in years. But even then, you never told me that you loved me. That was what I wanted to hear.”
“I hurt you and I’m sorry. I was a stubborn cuss back then. Now I know better.” Twisting in the seat, he cupped her chin. “Meggie, I love you and I’m about to show you how much.”
“Promises, promises….”
Promises kept.