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Heart of Texas Vol. 3

CONTENTS

NELL’S COWBOY

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

LONE STAR BABY

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

Nell’s Cowboy

CAST OF CHARACTERS
THE PEOPLE OF PROMISE

Nell Bishop: thirtysomething widow with a son, Jeremy, and a daughter, Emma; her husband died in a tractor accident

Ruth Bishop: Nell’s mother-in-law; lives with Nell and her two children

Dovie Boyd: runs an antiques shop and has dated Sheriff Frank Hennessey for ten years

Caroline Daniels: postmistress of Promise

Maggie Daniels: Caroline’s five-year-old daughter

Dr. Jane Dickinson: new doctor in Promise

Ellie Frasier: owner of Frasier’s Feed Store

Frank Hennessey: local sheriff

Max Jordan: owner of Jordan’s Towne and Country

Wade McMillen: preacher of Promise Christian Church

Edwina and Lily Moorhouse: sisters; retired schoolteachers

Cal and Glen Patterson: local ranchers; brothers who ranch together

Phil and Mary Patterson: parents of Cal and Glen; operate a local B and B

Louise Powell: town gossip

Wiley Rogers: sixty-year-old ranch foreman at the Weston Ranch

Laredo Smith: wrangler hired by Savannah Weston

Barbara and Melvin Weston: mother and father to Savannah, Grady and Richard; the Westons died six years ago

Richard Weston: youngest of the Weston siblings

Savannah Weston: Grady and Richard’s sister; cultivates old roses

Grady Weston: rancher and oldest of the Weston siblings

CHAPTER 1

NELL BISHOP BARRELED DOWN the highway, heading home, racing against the approaching storm. The March winds whipped against the pickup as she hurried toward Twin Canyons Ranch, thirty-four miles south of Promise, Texas.

Her mother-in-law was with the children, but Jeremy and Emma would have difficulty getting the animals into the barn without help. Ruth would do what she could, but the older woman’s heart wasn’t strong and…Nell didn’t want to think what might happen if she didn’t make it back in time.

Her life had been on a fast-moving treadmill for the past three years, ever since her husband died in a tractor accident. Storms were the least of her worries, considering the financial challenges she’d faced working the ranch without Jake. Not a day passed that her husband wasn’t in her thoughts. Twenty years from now, forty years from now, he’d still be a part of her.

Ruth and others had encouraged her to remarry, at least to date, but Nell had resisted. She never expected to love again—not the way she loved Jake. Their love was the kind that happened only once in a lifetime, and no other man could compare to her Jake.

Nell had always known she wasn’t any candidate for home-coming queen, but Jake had made her feel like one. He’d understood what it was to be big-boned and just plain big. Dainty or elegant would never describe her; at six feet, Nell was as tall as most men. Jake had been six feet four inches by the time he was a high-school freshman, and the only boy in school taller than Nell.

They’d lived in the same town all their lives, but it wasn’t until high school that she’d noticed him. The very first day of high school, as a matter of fact. She was a freshman to his senior, and the minute his eyes met hers as she walked down the hall, she knew she’d found her life’s mate. He was the only boy she’d ever dated. When he enlisted in the army and became an Airborne Ranger, she’d written him every day. He served his time in the army and was discharged a week after her graduation. Despite her family’s protests, she’d married Jake while still a teenager.

Neither was to know that ten years was all the time they’d have together. It was Nell who’d found her husband trapped beneath the tractor, Nell who’d held him in her arms as the life flowed out of him, Nell who’d screamed in anguish, helpless to do anything to save her husband’s life.

Now it was Nell who struggled to hold on to Twin Canyons Ranch, tended what remained of the herd, raised their children and cared for Jake’s aging mother. The ranch had been Jake’s dream—and hers; it was a small spread that they’d bought together, shortly after their marriage. But she was so very tired, weary to the bone with her financial struggles and other worries. The past three years had drained her mentally, emotionally and physically. For that reason she’d sold off most of the herd and started a new venture. A dude ranch.

Bless Jeremy’s heart. Her son had been the one to give her the idea. Last year, she’d promised him a reward for acing his spelling test and he’d chosen to rent a movie. Of all the movies available, he’d picked City Slickers, and to Nell it was like a revelation.

After seeing the movie, Nell hadn’t been able to sleep all night. She was certainly familiar with dude ranches, but it had never occurred to her that this might be a solution to her own dilemma. She couldn’t say she understood it, but people actually paid for the opportunity to eat food cooked in a chuck wagon, ride around on horses and drive cattle. Why these people would prefer to live in primitive circumstances when they could experience the luxury of some fancy resort for basically the same price was beyond her. Apparently she had a lot to learn—but learn she did. After months of research Nell was convinced that a dude ranch really was the answer. With a portion of her profits from the sale of last year’s herd, she’d had brochures printed and she’d contacted several travel companies. Now she was almost ready for business, and in a couple of months she’d be entertaining her first bunkhouse full of greenhorns.

In many ways she was a natural for this kind of work. After these few years without Jake, there wasn’t a ranching chore she couldn’t accomplish with the speed and dexterity of a man. At this point, she knew as much about ranching as any cowboy. Not only that, she’d heard the great stories of Texas all her life—stories about the state’s settlement and the Alamo and the early cattle drives and many more. She’d always loved those stories, and if she could make money telling them now, romanticizing the Old West, all the better.

Heavy black clouds darkened the sky. Pushing thoughts of Jake from her mind, Nell focused her attention on the highway. Driving well above the speed limit, she rounded a turn in the road and saw a sports utility vehicle parked along the side.

Some damn fool had stopped to take pictures of the approaching storm. The man obviously wasn’t a local. Anyone from Texas would know to take cover, and fast. Like the state of Texas itself, storms tended to make an impression, especially spring storms like this one.

Despite her hurry, Nell applied her brakes and pulled over. With the engine running, she leaped down from the cab. The wind slapped her long braid against her face as she raced toward the stranger.

The greenhorn lowered his camera. “Howdy,” he greeted her cheerfully. He was taller than she was and clean-cut. His clothes were new-looking but rumpled.

“Listen, I don’t mean to be rude, but any idiot knows to head for cover in a storm.”

His smile faded to a frown.

“I don’t know where you’re from or where you’re going,” she went on, “but if I were you I’d get my butt back into that fancy car of yours and drive into town as fast as those tires will take you.” Having done her duty, she started back to her truck.

“Hey,” he said, “got a minute? I have a few questions.”

“I have to go.” Nell didn’t mean to sound abrupt, but she didn’t have time to waste. She’d said her piece and whether or not he took her advice was completely up to him.

“Are you from around the area?” he called after her.

“Yes! Now listen, we get hail the size of golf balls and if you don’t want to pay to have the dents removed, then I suggest you make tracks for town.”

“This will only take a minute…”

“I don’t have a minute, I’ve got horses and calves to worry about,” Nell shouted into the wind. “And I don’t have time to convince you a storm is about to break.” She raised her hand toward the threatening sky. “It’s going to cost you plenty if you don’t get that vehicle under cover.”

“I’m insured.”

“Hail is an act of God.” Whether he caught her last words or not she didn’t know. Nell leaped into her truck and put the pickup in gear. One glance in the rearview mirror proved that giving this stranger advice had been a wasted effort. He hadn’t moved. Furthermore, he wasn’t snapping pictures of the dark horizon anymore; he was taking pictures of her!

Shaking her head in wonder, Nell dismissed him from her thoughts and drove home at breakneck speed.

When she pulled into the ranch yard, she saw Jeremy chasing chickens in a futile attempt to lure them into the coop. Emma and Ruth led the horses toward the barn, yanking on the reins as the two geldings battled the wind. The scene right before the tornado in The Wizard of Oz flashed through Nell’s mind.

She parked the truck near the barn, where it would be protected, and hurried toward her family. With her help, Ruth and Emma managed to secure the animals before the storm broke.

By the time they scurried into the house, the rain had started and they were breathless and excited.

“We did it!” twelve-year-old Jeremy said, exchanging a high five with his sister. Unlike most siblings, Jeremy and Emma rarely fought. Sure, they squabbled now and then—all kids did—but these two were close in age and temperament. They’d also been through the devastating experience of their father’s death, which had created a strong bond between them.

Jeremy was large for his age, like his father and Nell, too—big-boned, muscular and tall. Two years younger, Emma was small and delicate, resembling Ruth, her grandmother.

“I’m glad you made it home in time,” Ruth said, pouring Nell a cup of hot tea before filling a second cup for herself.

Nell gazed out the kitchen window at the ferocity of the storm. The wind propelled the rain at an almost horizontal angle, pelting the trees and flowers. Smaller trees were bent nearly in half. Many a new crop would see ruin this afternoon.

Sighing, she turned away from the window. “I would have been a couple of minutes earlier if it hadn’t been for some greenhorn,” she said. “The silly fool stopped at the side of the road to take pictures.”

“Anyone you recognized?” Ruth asked.

“Never saw him before in my life.” Nell would have remembered him if she had. He was big like Jake, sturdy and broad-shouldered. Unfortunately—unlike Jake—he didn’t seem to possess an ounce of common sense.

Ruth shook her head. “Probably one of those tornado chasers.”

Nell frowned. “I don’t think so.” He wasn’t the type. Too soft, she decided, and although it might sound unkind, not all that bright. Anyone with brains knew to seek shelter in a storm.

“What’s for dinner?” Jeremy asked.

“Not chili,” Emma pleaded.

Despite herself Nell laughed. “Not chili,” she assured her. Her family had been good sports, sampling different variations of her chili recipe for the past few months. Nell was perfecting her recipe and had used her family as taste-testers.

The chili cook-off was being held that weekend as part of the Promise Rodeo. These festivities launched spring the way the big Cattlemen’s Association Dance in June signaled the beginning of summer.

Nell held high hopes that her chili might actually win this year. Her talents in the kitchen were legendary, and she believed she made a great pot of chili. For weeks she’d been combining recipes, adding this, subtracting that. After feeding her family chili twice a week, she was finally satisfied with her recipe.

“Are you going to win the cook-off?” Emma asked.

“Of course she is,” Ruth answered before Nell could respond. “I don’t see why she shouldn’t, seeing she’s the best cook this side of the Rio Grande.”

Both children nodded enthusiastically, and Nell smiled. “How about porcupine meatballs for dinner?” she suggested. The meatballs, made with rice and cooked in tomato soup, were one of the children’s favorites. Jeremy and Emma instantly agreed.

“I’ll peel the potatoes,” Ruth said. As usual her mother-in-law was willing to lend a hand.

The lights flickered just then, and the house went dark.

“That’s okay,” Jeremy said. “We don’t need electricity. We can roast weenies in the fireplace, can’t we?”

“Yeah,” Emma seconded. “We could have hot dogs.”

“Sounds like a good idea to me.” Nell reached for a candle, grateful her children maintained a sense of adventure. They were going to need it when the first dude ranch guests arrived.

CAL PATTERSON SHOOK THE moisture from his jacket as he stepped inside out of the driving rain. He removed his Stetson and placed it on the hook just inside the porch to dry. He’d done what he could to protect his herd, gotten his horses into the barn and battened down the shutters where he could. Glen, his brother and business partner, had left for town early in hopes of beating the storm. Cal had worked alone, listening with half an ear for his wife’s arrival. He didn’t like the idea of Jane driving all the way from town in this kind of weather.

“Cal, is that you?”

His heart rate accelerated at the sound of her voice. “Jane? What the hell are you doing here? Where’s your car? I didn’t see it.”

“I live here, remember?” she teased, joining him in the kitchen porch while he removed his boots. She’d obviously just had a bath and now wore a flannel bathrobe, belted loosely about her waist. “And I didn’t park in my usual place because Glen’s truck was still there.”

“You should’ve stayed in town,” he chastised, but he was delighted she’d managed to make it home. He didn’t relish the idea of a night spent without her. Two months of marriage, and he’d grown accustomed to sharing his home and his heart with this woman.

“The clinic closed early,” she informed him, “and I’ve got my beeper. Anyone can reach me in case of a medical emergency.”

Cal shed his jacket and slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her close and urging her into the kitchen. His wife was the town’s only physician, so there were constant demands on her time. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to stop worrying about you.”

“Hey, I’m a big girl.”

“Sure you are!” He was about to kiss her when the lights went out. Not that he minded. A romantic interlude wasn’t unwelcome.

“I’ve got a fire going in the fireplace,” she whispered, pressing against him, reminding him of the benefits of married life. She looped her arms around his neck and kissed his jaw.

Cal shut his eyes and inhaled her fresh sweet scent. This was about as close to heaven as he expected to get in his lifetime. “I don’t suppose you’re wearing that see-through nightie of yours?”

“No,” she said, “but that could be arranged.”

“Now you’re talkin’.”

Cal felt her smile against his skin. “I love you, Rebel.”

Growling, he swung her into his arms and carried her into the living room. Sure enough, a small fire flickered in the fireplace. This had become their favorite room; he’d lost count of the number of times they’d made love in front of the fireplace. The room had a special significance for him, since it was here that he’d first realized how much he’d come to care about her. It was here in this very room that Dr. Texas, as he was fond of calling her, had taken his freeze-dried heart and breathed life into his lonely existence.

Cal was happier than he’d ever thought possible. With each passing day he loved Jane more. Their love had demanded plenty of adjustments on both sides. Sacrifices. But for everything he’d given up, he’d gained so much more.

The storm raged outside and a fair one was building on the living-room carpet when Jane’s beeper went off.

Cal groaned and rolled onto his back, inhaling several deep breaths. “That damn well better be important,” he muttered.

“Cal!”

“I want someone real sick.”

Giggling, Jane scrambled for her beeper and read the message. “It’s Laredo Smith,” she said.

“Wanna bet he’s phoning about Savannah?”

“She’s just over eight months,” Jane said, sounding concerned.

“But Laredo’s acting like she’s three weeks overdue.”

“He’s worried, that’s all.”

Cal figured he would be, too, in Laredo’s situation. This was the Smiths’ first child, and Cal knew there’d been some minor complications with the pregnancy. Despite that—and unlike her husband—the mother-to-be remained calm and confident. Savannah had insisted on a home delivery, overriding Laredo’s protests.

“This shouldn’t take long,” Jane promised. She hurried over to the hall phone.

Cal cupped his hands behind his head and watched his wife move through the room, bathed in firelight. Her hair was mussed and her bathrobe hastily tied—and he couldn’t recall a time she’d looked more beautiful. It never ceased to amaze him that Jane had agreed to be his wife.

Cal had begun to wonder if someone had spiked the water supply last summer. In less than a year most of his friends had married. First, Savannah Weston had met a stranger to Promise named Laredo Smith and subsequently married him. Cal’s own brother had married Ellie Frasier, owner of the local feed store, last September. No sooner had that wedding taken place when Grady Weston asked the postmistress, Caroline Daniels, to marry him—all within the space of a few short weeks. Even Sheriff Hennessey had married his longtime sweetheart, Dovie Boyd.

It hadn’t been long before Cal fell in love himself.

At one time Cal, Glen and Grady had been confirmed bachelors. With Cal, it had been a form of self-protection, he realized now. He’d been jilted by a former fiancée and the experience had left him bitter, determined never to fall for a woman again.

But that was before he’d met Jane. Their first date was arranged by Ellie. At the time Cal had been annoyed and frustrated that his brand-new sister-in-law was matchmaking. By the end of the evening, however, Jane had managed to pique his interest. To his surprise he discovered he was looking for ward to seeing her again. Before he could help himself, he was deeply in love with her.

A city girl. Worse, one from California. If anyone had told him six months ago that he’d marry a woman like Jane, he would have run screaming into the night. Now he couldn’t imagine living two minutes without her.

With the phone against her ear, Jane caught her husband’s eyes and blew him a kiss. He grinned, content to wait. Relaxing on the rug, he listened to one-half of the conversation.

“Don’t worry,” Jane was telling Laredo, “you didn’t interrupt anything important.”

Cal sat upright at that, raising his eyebrows. Didn’t interrupt anything important? He saw that his wife could barely hold in her laughter at his expression.

But her smile faded as she continued to listen to Laredo. “No…no you were right to phone. How long ago did you say her water broke?”

The smile left Cal’s face, too. This was more serious than either of them had anticipated.

“How far apart are the contractions?” Jane reached for a pad and pencil and noted the information.

Cal had delivered enough calves to know the signs of imminent birth. Savannah and Laredo were about to have their baby during the worst storm of the year.

“I’ll be there within the hour,” Jane promised and replaced the receiver. “Savannah’s in labor,” she told Cal.

“So I heard.” He stood and she walked over to him and caressed the side of his face. “Looks like we’ll have to put our romantic interlude on hold.”

“I’m a patient man,” he reminded her. He caught her fingers and pressed a kiss into her palm. “What time are we leaving?” he asked, snapping his shirt closed as he spoke.

“We?” Jane asked, arching her brows expressively. “I’m perfectly capable of delivering this baby.”

“I never doubted it for an instant.” He opened her bathrobe, kissed the valley between her breasts and refastened it.

“I can drive in a storm, too.”

“I realize that,” he said, “but how good are you at keeping two strong-willed ranchers out of your hair?”

“Two?”

“Laredo and Grady.” Cal knew his best friend, and Grady would be as nervous as Laredo at the birth of his first niece or nephew. Jane was going to have her hands full, and it wasn’t with Savannah or the baby, either. It wouldn’t surprise him if father and uncle made damned nuisances of themselves. “Trust me, darlin’, you’ll thank me later.”

“Oh, all right, Cal Patterson, you can tag along, too. Now I’d better go change.”

He grinned, pleased he’d been able to convince her she was going to need him. Truth be known, he wouldn’t miss this birth for anything. It was about time something good happened in that family, especially after Richard Weston’s trial and sentencing.

A baby was just what the Westons needed to put their troubles behind them. Cal was determined to celebrate the blessed event with his friends.

TRAVIS GRANT ROLLED INTO Promise at precisely the moment the storm struck. He drove down Main Street, peering out between the constantly beating windshield wipers, but he couldn’t locate a single hotel. Seeing as his last meal had been aboard a plane and hadn’t amounted to much, he decided to stop for dinner and inquire about a place to stay. By the time he found a parking space and raced to the restaurant through the pounding rain, he was soaked to the skin.

He gulped down a glass of water and started on a bowl of tortilla chips with salsa before he even looked at the menu. His stomach growled and he ordered arroz con pollo, his favorite Mexican dish.

Gazing out the window, he decided the town was just the way Richard Weston had described it. This was something of a pleasant surprise. Men like Weston weren’t exactly known for their truthfulness. Travis had interviewed him shortly after he was sentenced to twenty-five years in a New York prison. No possibility of parole, either. He wouldn’t have talked to him at all if it hadn’t been for his ex-wife, who’d been Weston’s state-appointed attorney. As far as Travis was concerned, Weston was the ultimate sleaze—an opinion that the interview only reinforced.

Knowing his interest in Western ghost towns, Valerie had told him about Weston, a man who’d hidden from the law in an abandoned town buried deep in the Texas hill country. Weston had agreed to an interview—in exchange for certain concessions. The warden of the prison, however, hadn’t approved of the idea that Weston should have a TV and sound system in his cell. Weston had consented to the interview, anyway—because it was another opportunity to be the center of attention, Travis figured. Their meeting continued to leave a bad taste in his mouth. If it hadn’t been for Valerie, Travis would have abandoned the entire project, but his ex-wife seemed to have a way with the man.

Valerie. Travis frowned as he thought about her. She’d dumped him and their marriage for another man five years earlier. His lack of malice seemed to disappoint his friends. Frankly, he considered life too short to waste on ill will. He’d loved her, still did, but as she’d so eloquently put it, she’d fallen out of love with him.

She’d remarried as soon as the ink was dry on their divorce papers and seemed content. For that matter, he was, too, although it had taken him longer to achieve peace and he hadn’t become involved in another serious relationship. Also, to his friends’ surprise, he and Valerie had stayed in touch.

The waiter, a kid of maybe eighteen, delivered a plate heaped with rice and chicken and covered with a thin tomato sauce and melted cheese. “Could you give me directions to the closest motel?” Travis asked him.

“Brewster’s got a motel.”

“Great.” Travis reached for his fork. “How far away is that?”

“About a hundred miles.”

He laid his fork back down. “You mean to say a town the size of Promise doesn’t have a motel?”

“We’ve got a bed-and-breakfast.”

“Fine.” A bed was a bed, and at this point he wasn’t picky.

The waiter lingered. “You might have trouble getting a room, ’cause of the big festivities this weekend.”

“Festivities?”

“The rodeo’s coming, and then there’s the big chili cook-off. I thought that was why you were here.”

Apparently the town was small enough to recognize him as a stranger. “Where do the rodeo cowboys stay while they’re in town?”

The youth stared at him as if the answer should be obvious. “Motor homes.”

“All of them?”

“Unless they got family close by.”

“I see,” Travis murmured. He hadn’t considered that there wouldn’t be a motel—but then that was one of his problems, according to Valerie. He didn’t think ahead.

“If you’d like, I could write you out directions to the Pattersons’ B and B.”

“Please.” Famished, Travis dug into his meal, devouring it in minutes. He’d no sooner finished when the waiter returned with a hand-drawn map listing streets and landmarks. Apparently the one and only bed-and-breakfast was off the beaten path.

Thunder cracked in the sky, followed by flashes of lightning. No one seemed to pay much heed to the storm until the lights flickered. Everyone in the restaurant paused and waited, then sighed with relief when the lights stayed on.

The storm was bad, but he’d seen worse off the New England coastline five years before. Holed up in a rented cottage in order to meet a deadline, Travis had watched storms rage as he fought his own battles. It’d been shortly after the divorce.

He thought of that sassy ranch woman who’d spoken to him today and wondered what she’d say if she knew he’d stood on a rocky bluff overlooking the sea, with the wind and rain pounding against him, and openly defied nature.

Remembering the way she’d leaped out of her truck, eyes flashing with outrage, brought a rare smile to his lips.

She’d been an attractive woman. Practically as tall as he was and full-sized, not some pencil-thin model. A spitfire, too. Definitely one of a kind. Briefly he wondered if he’d get a chance to see her again and rather hoped he would, just so he could tell her he’d managed to survive the storm.

Following the directions given him by the waiter at the Mexican Lindo, Travis drove to Pattersons’ Bed-and-Breakfast, which turned out to be a large older home. He rang the doorbell.

Almost immediately a tall, gray-haired, lanky man opened the door and invited him inside. “Welcome to Promise.” The man extended his hand and introduced himself as Phil Patterson.

“Travis Grant. Do you have a room for a few nights?” he asked, getting directly to the point.

“Sorry,” Phil told him. “We’re booked solid.”

Travis had left New York early that morning and didn’t relish the thought of traveling another hundred miles through a storm to find a bed for the night. “I’m tired and not difficult to please. Isn’t there any place that could put me up for a few nights?”

Phil frowned. “The rodeo’s coming to town.”

“So I understand.”

“I doubt there’s a room available in Brewster, either.”

Travis muttered a curse under his breath.

“Phil.” A woman’s voice called out from the kitchen. “You might try Nell.”

“Nell?”

“Nell Bishop.”

Phil sighed. “I know who Nell is.”

“She’s opening her dude ranch in a couple of months, so she’s probably got rooms to rent.”

Phil’s face relaxed. “Of course, that’s a great idea.”

Travis’s spirits lifted.

“I’ll give her a call.” Phil reached for the phone, punched in the number and waited. After a minute or two he covered the receiver. “Nell’s busy, but her mother-in-law’s there and she said you’d be welcome to drive out, but she feels obliged to warn you there’s no electricity at the moment.”

“They have a bed and clean sheets?”

“Sure thing, and Ruth—that’s her name—said she’d throw in breakfast, as well.”

He named a price that sounded more than reasonable to Travis. “Sold.”

Phil relayed the information, drew him a map, and soon Travis was back on the road.

Patterson had told him that the ranch was a fair distance out of town; still, by the time Travis pulled off the highway and onto the gravel drive that led to Twin Canyons Ranch, he suspected he was closer to Brewster than Promise. Approaching the front door, he felt as though his butt was dragging as low to the ground as his suitcase.

A kid who looked to be about twelve answered his knock and stared blankly at him while Travis stood in the rain.

“Hello,” Travis finally said.

“Hello,” the boy answered. A girl two or three years younger joined him. Good-looking children, but apparently not all that bright.

“Most people come to the back door unless they’re selling something, and if you are, we’re not buying.”

Despite feeling tired and cranky, Travis grinned. “I’m here about a room.”

The two kids exchanged glances.

“Who is it?” He heard an older woman’s voice in the background; a moment later, she appeared at the door. “For the love of heaven, young man, come out of the rain.” She nudged the children aside and held open the door.

He stood in the hallway, which was all gloom and shadows except for the light flickering from a cluster of candles. Travis glanced around, but it was impossible to see much.

“Mom’s in the barn,” the boy said.

“I know that,” the older woman told him. She put the candle close to Travis’s face. “You look decent enough.”

“I haven’t eaten any children in at least a week,” he teased, eyeing the two kids. The little girl moved a step closer to her brother.

“I’m Travis Grant,” he said, turning his attention to the woman.

“Ruth Bishop, and these two youngsters are my grandchildren, Jeremy and Emma.”

“Pleased to meet you.” He shifted the suitcase in his hand, hoping Ruth would take the hint and escort him to his room. She didn’t. “About the room…” he said pointedly.

“You’ll need to meet Nell first.”

“All right.” He was eager to get the introductions over with so he could fall into bed and sleep for the next twelve hours straight.

“This way.” She led him through the house to the back porch, where she pulled on a hooded jacket. Then she walked down the back steps and into the rain, holding her hand over the candle to shield the small flame.

Travis wasn’t enthusiastic about clumping through the storm yet again, but didn’t have much choice.

“Ruth?” a new voice called into the night. A low pleasant voice.

“Coming,” the grandmother answered.

They met halfway across the yard in the pouring rain. “I got us our first paying guest,” Ruth announced, beaming proudly. “Travis Grant, meet my daughter-in-law, Nell Bishop.”

It took Travis no more than a second to recognize Nell as the woman who’d called him an idiot.

He liked her already.

CHAPTER 2

NELL LOCATED AN OLD-FASHIONED lantern for Travis Grant. It had probably been in the family for fifty years and was nothing if not authentic. Next she gathered together fresh sun-dried sheets, a couple of blankets and a pillow. She tucked everything inside a plastic bag and raced through the storm, holding the lit lantern with one hand. When she arrived at the bunkhouse, Nell discovered Travis sitting on the end of a bed, looking tired and out of sorts.

The initial group of tourists was scheduled to show up the first week of May, and almost everything in the bunkhouse had been readied. It was primitive, but then this was the real thing. A genuine ranch, complete with enough cattle to give would-be cowboys the experience of dealing with a herd, horses for them to ride and plenty of land. Nell was as determined as Curly in the movie City Slickers to make real wranglers out of her guests. It was what they were paying her big bucks to do, and she firmly believed in giving them their money’s worth.

“Thanks,” Travis said when he saw her. He stood up to remove the bag from her arms, and she placed the lantern on a small wooden dresser opposite the bed.

“I realize this isn’t the Ritz,” she said as she spread the crisp sheet across the thin mattress.

“Hey, beggars can’t be choosers,” her guest reminded her. “I’m grateful you’re willing to take me in at all.”

Actually no one had thought to ask her. It was her mother-in-law who’d agreed to put him up for the night when Phil Patterson phoned. But to be fair, Nell suspected she would have agreed herself.

“With the rodeo coming, the Pattersons didn’t have any vacancies,” he explained unnecessarily, leaning over to help her with the top sheet and blanket.

The lantern actually gave a fair amount of light, much to Nell’s chagrin. She chose to pretend she didn’t recognize him. And either he was too tired to remember the way she’d harangued him at the side of the road or he’d decided to forget. Whatever the case, she was grateful.

“Does the Texas hill country generally get storms like this?”

“This one’s worse than some,” she told him, lifting the edge of the mattress to tuck in the covers. Given his size, she wondered if the bunk would be big enough for him. Well, there was no help for it, since this bed—or another exactly like it—was the only one available.

“What about losing your electricity?”

“Happens now and then,” she said, not looking at him. She reached for the pillow and stuffed it inside the case, then plumping it up, set it at the head of the bed. “Is there anything else I can get you?” she asked, ready to return to her family.

“Nothing. I appreciate your putting me up,” he said again.

“No problem.”

“Mom.” Breathless, Jeremy burst into the bunkhouse, his face bright. He carried a blue-speckled tin coffeepot in one hand and a matching cup in the other. Emma followed with a covered plate.

“Grandma sent us over with hot chocolate and—”

“—one of Mom’s cinnamon rolls,” Emma finished for her brother. Travis could see a black-and-white dog waiting patiently at the door.

He took the pot and cup from Jeremy and set them on the nightstand. “Hey, no one said anything about room service. How’d I get so lucky?”

Emma handed him the plate. “My mom’s the best cook in the world.”

Nell grinned and put an arm around each of her children. “Now probably isn’t the time to mention we roasted hot dogs in the fireplace for dinner.”

“Are you staying for the chili cook-off?” Emma asked their guest.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Travis sat on the side of the bed and poured himself a mug of steaming cocoa.

Nell wasn’t sure how Ruth had managed to heat the cocoa—the fireplace, she supposed—but was pleased her mother-in-law had made the effort.

“Mom’s going to win. Her chili’s the best.”

“Emma’s opinion might be a little biased,” Nell said, steering the two children toward the door. “Let us know if you need anything.”

“I will. Good night,” Travis said as they left to go back to the house.

Nell turned and smiled when she saw that he’d already started on the cinnamon roll with the appreciation of a man who rarely tasted anything homemade.

The children ran across the yard ahead of her. Lucky, their border-collie mix, followed at their heels. Ruth waited for Nell in the kitchen, holding the candle and looking inordinately pleased with herself.

“Travis Grant seems like a nice young man,” she said the moment Nell entered the kitchen.

“He’s from New York City,” Nell said, wanting it understood right then and there that he was a big-city boy and only drifting through Promise. It just so happened that he’d ventured into a strange town and needed a place to sleep; there’d be plenty of guests just like him in the months to come.

“We have a big day tomorrow,” Nell said. “It wouldn’t hurt any of us to get to bed early for once.”

As she’d expected, her children put up token protests, but they didn’t argue long. Both were tired and, without electricity, there was little to entertain them. The lights probably wouldn’t be coming on soon, especially with the rain and the wind still so intense.

“Did our guest mention what he’s doing in Promise?” Ruth asked. She held her hand protectively in front of the flame of the candle she carried and led the way across the living room.

Nell wondered, too. “He didn’t say.”

“You could’ve asked.”

“Well, I didn’t. That’s his business, not mine.”

“Weren’t you curious?”

“A little.” A lot actually, but Nell wasn’t willing to admit it.

“He’s probably here for the rodeo,” Jeremy suggested, heading up the stairs, Lucky at his side.

“Maybe, but I don’t think so.” Nell wasn’t sure why she thought that, but she did. Her guess was that when morning came Travis Grant would pack up his bags and leave.

“He reminds me of someone,” Emma said and yawned.

“Me, too,” Jeremy murmured.

Jake. Nell had seen it, too, not in looks but in build. Travis Grant was a lumberjack of a man, just the way her beloved Jake had been. Sadly the children’s memories of their father had dimmed with time into vague recollections.

The family stood at the landing at the top of the stairs, where they exchanged good-night hugs and kisses. Even Jeremy let his mother and grandma kiss him tonight. Ruth guided the children to their bedrooms while Nell retrieved a candle for herself.

Once everyone was in bed, she undressed and put on a full-length white cotton nightgown. She unbraided her hair and brushed it out, the thick dark tresses reaching halfway down her back. Jake had loved her hair, had often gathered it in his huge hands and run it through his fingers. Nell missed those moments, missed everything about Jake.

Time, she’d discovered, was a great healer, just as Pastor McMillen had told her. The grief became duller, less acute, with every month and year that passed. But it was still there, always there. Now, though, her grief shared space with all the good memories, the happy moments they’d had together.

Nothing would ever erase those ten wonderful years she’d shared with the man she loved.

Setting her hairbrush aside, Nell pulled back the covers and climbed into bed. She leaned against the headboard, her back supported by two pillows, and opened the drawer in her nightstand. She took out a pen and her journal.

By the light of a single candle, she wrote down the events of the day, pausing now and then to collect her thoughts. When she’d finished, she reread what she’d written, something she rarely did, and was surprised to note she’d mentioned Travis Grant in the first line. It didn’t take her long to figure out why.

It was because he was like Jake and meeting him had shaken her. Not the first time on the road into town, when she’d stopped and read him the riot act, but later. It hadn’t hit her until they stood across from each other to make the bed. He was the same height as Jake.

Nell reached for the framed photograph of Jake taken on their wedding day. It was a rare shot of him without his Stetson. Fresh from the military, his hair had been cropped close. He looked strong, capable—and oddly vulnerable.

Her heart clenched as it always did when she studied the photograph, but the usual tears didn’t come.

“Good night, my love,” she whispered and placed the photograph back on her nightstand. As she did, Nell saw a light come on outside the window. Tossing the blankets aside, she peered out and noticed a bright even glow coming from the bunkhouse. The electricity was back on.

“I DON’T KNOW HOW MUCH LONGER this is going to take,” Laredo Smith said as he reappeared to give another update on Savannah’s progress. He’d practically worn grooves in the carpet from the bedroom to the living room where the men had gathered. Rain continued to beat against the window and there were occasional flashes of lightning, although the storm had begun to let up.

Grady smiled indulgently at his brother-in-law, grateful that the electricity was back on. “Babies take as long as they take,” he said wisely. He reclined in the leather chair and laced his fingers behind his head, rather pleased with his insight.

“That’s easy for you to say,” Laredo snapped in a rare display of temper. “It’s not your wife in there giving birth to your child. Let’s see how calm you are when Caroline delivers.”

The grin faded from Grady’s face. Laredo had a point.

“Birthing babies is a whole lot different from bringing calves into the world,” Cal said. Grady’s best friend leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees, then glanced at his watch.

Grady was surprised when he checked the time. It was already past midnight, and it could be hours more before Savannah’s baby was born. Not one of the assembled group showed any sign of being tired, much less leaving. Caroline and Jane were with Savannah, and his daughter was in bed upstairs. Six-year-old Maggie had tried to stay awake but fell asleep in his arms around ten.

Laredo had been with Savannah from the first but returned to the living room periodically to make his reports. Grady watched his brother-in-law with interest. Laredo was so pale he looked in danger of passing out.

“I had no idea it would be like this,” Laredo mumbled, ramming all ten fingers through his hair.

“That it’d take this long?” Grady asked.

Laredo vigorously shook his head. “No—that I’d feel this scared, this nervous. Savannah and I must’ve read ten books about pregnancy and birth, and I thought I was ready. Hell, man, I’ve been around horses and cattle all my life, but this is nothing like I expected.”

Those books were the very ones Grady and Caroline were reading now. His wife was two months pregnant. Grady had been walking on air from the moment she’d told him. He’d thought about the baby a lot, his excitement building as he watched his own sister’s pregnancy progress. He and Caroline had told only a few people, since she was months from showing.

To Grady, his wife had never looked more beautiful. Maggie was pleased and excited at the prospect of becoming a big sister. What Grady hadn’t considered was this strange emotion Laredo exhibited.

Fear.

He hadn’t thought of his child’s birth as a frightening event. He’d imagined himself a proud father, holding his infant son or daughter. He enjoyed the prospect of people making a fuss and giving their opinions on which parent the baby resembled. Friends would come to visit and it would be a time of celebration and joy.

But tonight Laredo had destroyed his illusions. In his imaginings, Grady had glossed over the actual birth. Until now. Beyond any doubt, he knew that when it was Caroline’s time to deliver their child, he’d be as bad as Laredo. Pacing, worrying, wondering. Praying.

“I’m going back in there,” Laredo announced as though he couldn’t bear to be away from Savannah a moment longer.

Grady stood, slapped his friend on the back to encourage him, then sank into his seat again.

“We’re going to be just like him, you know,” Cal said.

Grady nodded in agreement. “Worse, probably.”

Cal grinned. “When’s Caroline due?”

“The end of October.”

“You two certainly didn’t waste any time, did you?” Cal teased.

“Nope.” Their wedding had been the last week of October, and Caroline was pregnant by the first week of January. They’d hoped it would happen quickly, seeing as Grady was already well into his thirties and Maggie was going on seven. It made sense to start their family early.

As the wind howled, Cal looked out the window. “Why is it babies are always born during a storm?”

“It probably has something to do with barometric pressure.”

Cal scratched his head. “You think so?”

The hell if Grady knew, but it sounded good. The phone pealed in the kitchen and the two men stared at each other.

“It’s probably Glen and Ellie again,” Cal said.

Cal’s brother and his wife lived in town and would have been with them, Grady suspected, if not for the storm.

Grady answered the phone. “Nothing yet,” he said, instead of his usual greeting.

“Why didn’t anyone phone me?” Dovie Boyd Hennessey demanded. Dovie and Savannah had been close since the death of Savannah’s mother, Barbara, seven years earlier. Dovie owned and operated the antique shop, which sold everything from old scarves and jewelry to valuable china cups and saucers, all arranged around antique furnishings. The women in town loved to shop at Dovie’s; she was universally admired and treasured by the town.

“Savannah’s in labor and I only now find out,” Dovie said as though she’d missed the social event of the year.

“Who told you?” Grady asked. The women in Promise had a communication system the CIA could envy.

“Frank, naturally,” Dovie told him. “I guess he talked to Laredo earlier this evening. He just got home.” She paused for breath. “Has the baby come yet?”

“Nope, and according to Jane it could be hours before the blessed event.”

“How’s Savannah?”

“Better than Laredo,” Grady said.

Dovie’s soft laugh drifted over the line. “Give her my love?”

“Of course.”

“And call me the minute you hear, understand? I don’t care what time of day or night it is.”

“You got it,” he said on the tail end of a yawn.

“Don’t let me down, Grady.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he assured her.

By the time he returned to the living room, Cal had picked up a magazine and was flipping through the pages.

“You read that one an hour ago,” Grady reminded him.

“So I did.”

A few minutes later Caroline came into the room, and Grady leaped to his feet. “Sit down,” he urged his wife. “You look exhausted.” She should have been in bed hours ago, but he knew better than to suggest it. Caroline was as stubborn as they came, but then so was he. They understood each other, and he could appreciate her need to be with her best friend.

“It won’t be long now,” she told him as she slid her arms around his waist. “The baby’s crowned.”

Grady nodded. “Wonderful. How’s Savannah?”

“She’s doing well.”

“And Laredo?”

“He’s holding Savannah’s hand and helping her with her breathing.” Grady sat down, pulling Caroline onto his lap. She pressed her head against his shoulder, and he kissed her temple.

Grady glanced in Cal’s direction and found he’d folded his arms and shut his eyes. Caroline’s eyes were closed, too, and Grady decided to rest his own. Just for a few minutes, he told himself.

An infant’s cry shattered the silence. Grady jerked awake and Caroline jumped to her feet and shook her head. “Oh, my goodness!” she gasped.

Grady hadn’t a clue how long they’d been out. Cal straightened and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“The kid’s got one hell of a pair of lungs.”

A few minutes later the bedroom door opened and Laredo emerged, carrying a tiny bundle in his arms. Grady noted that his friend’s eyes were bright and his cheeks tear-streaked.

“We have a daughter,” he said, gazing with awe at the baby he held. “Laura Rose, meet your family,” he whispered to the newborn. “This is your uncle Grady and aunt Caroline.”

“Hey, don’t forget me,” Cal said, stepping over to gaze down at the baby.

“That’s Cal,” Laredo continued. “His wife’s the one who coaxed you into the world.” Laredo gazed at the small group gathered around the baby. “Isn’t she beautiful?” he said. “Doesn’t she look like Savannah?”

Grady studied Laura Rose carefully and decided she looked more like an alien, but he certainly didn’t say so.

Another hour passed before Grady and Caroline were in their own home and their own bed. Fortunately the rain had ended. Grady had carried a sleeping Maggie from Savannah’s place to the car and then into her room; she never did wake up. He was exhausted, too. This had been a night to remember. His sister was a mother, and for the first time in his life he was an uncle. Damn, but it felt good.

Caroline pulled back the covers and joined him. She sighed as her head hit the pillow. “Did anyone phone Dovie?” she asked.

“I did,” Grady said as he reached for the light.

“Good.” Caroline rolled onto her side. “I think I could sleep for a week,” she mumbled.

Grady drew his wife close, cuddling her spoon-fashion. His arm went around her and he flattened his hand against her stomach and grinned, feeling extraordinarily happy. Soon Laura Rose would have a cousin.

TRAVIS AWOKE AND LAY IN the warm bed, unwilling to face the bright morning light. Not just yet, anyway. Something warm nestled against his feet, and he was content to stay exactly as he was for a few more minutes.

Despite his exhaustion, he’d had a hard time falling asleep. It didn’t help that his legs stuck out a good six inches over the end of the bed. Those cowboys must’ve been pretty short guys, he thought wryly.

His eyes flew open as his toes felt something damp and ticklish. He bolted upright to find a goat standing at the foot of the bed, chewing for all it was worth. It didn’t take Travis long to realize that the animal had eaten the socks clean off his feet. All that remained were a few rows of ribbing on his ankles.

Obviously, once he’d fallen asleep, he’d slept deeply—the sleep of the jet-lagged. He laughed and wiggled his toes just to be sure the socks were the only thing the goat had enjoyed. So far, so good.

“Yucky, what are you doing in here?”

The door flew open and Nell’s boy—Jeremy, if Travis remembered correctly—rushed inside.

The boy planted his hands on his hips and glared at the goat.

“’Morning,” Travis said.

“Hi.” Jeremy smiled and must have noticed Travis’s feet for the first time because he burst out laughing. “Yucky ate your socks!”

“So I noticed.”

“Sorry,” Jeremy said, sounding anything but. He covered his mouth to hide a giggle, which made the situation even more amusing. “Mom said to tell you breakfast will be ready in twenty minutes if you’re interested.”

Travis didn’t need a second invitation. His stomach growled at the mere mention of food. If the cinnamon roll the night before was any indication, Nell Bishop was one hell of a cook.

Travis dressed, showered and shaved, entering the kitchen just as Nell set a platter of scrambled eggs and bacon on the table.

“’Morning,” he greeted her.

“’Morning,” she returned and poured him a mug of coffee.

Travis gratefully accepted it and pulled out a chair. Nell joined him and the children, and the three bowed their heads for grace. The instant they were through, Jeremy reached for the platter.

His mother sent him a warning glance and Jeremy immediately passed the platter to Travis. “Here,” the boy said. “You’re our guest. Please help yourself.”

Travis was impressed with the boy’s manners. So many children didn’t seem to have any these days. He forked some fluffy scrambled eggs onto his plate and took a piece of toast from a bread basket in the center of the table. He gave Nell a sidelong glance as she buttered her own toast. She was obviously doing her best to be a good mother. The owner of the B and B had told him Nell was a widow, and he admired her for the loving manner in which she schooled her children.

“You collected all the eggs?” Nell asked Emma, interrupting his thoughts.

“Yes, Mama.”

“Did you check under Bertha?”

The little girl grinned and nodded.

“I understand,” Nell said, turning to Travis, “that we owe you a pair of socks.”

He glanced up from his plate and saw that her mouth quivered with the beginnings of a smile.

“Best darn pair I owned.”

“Your feet must’ve been pretty ripe to attract Yucky’s attention,” Jeremy said.

Travis couldn’t help it; he burst out laughing. Nell, however, didn’t take kindly to her son’s comment. Jeremy read his mother’s look and mumbled an apology.

Breakfast was wonderful, the food even better than he’d expected and the company delightful.

As soon as the kids had finished, they excused themselves and set their plates in the sink, then rushed out the back door.

“The children have animals to tend before they catch the school bus,” Nell explained before he could voice his question.

“I see.”

“Jeremy’s got rabbits. Then there’s Yucky, whom you’ve already met.”

“We have a close and personal relationship,” he said, leaning back in his chair, savoring the last of his coffee.

“Currently we have twelve horses, but I plan on buying several more. Jeremy feeds them grain and alfalfa, and Emma makes sure they have plenty of water. I’ll be mucking out the stalls later this morning.”

Travis could see that they had their chores down to a science and admired the way they all worked together. Briefly he wondered about Ruth, but guessed she reserved her strength for later in the day.

Nell cleared the remaining dishes from the table. “Take your time,” she said as she put on a sweater and headed toward the door.

“Can I help?” he asked.

“Not at all. Just enjoy your coffee.”

Travis did as she suggested and watched from the window as Nell and the children worked together. They were a real team, efficient and cooperative. Half an hour later Jeremy and Emma raced into the house and grabbed their lunch boxes from the counter.

“We gotta go to school now,” Emma said, staring at Travis as though she’d much rather spend the day with him.

Jeremy was on his way out when he paused. “Will you be here tonight?”

Travis had to think about that. “Probably.”

“I hope you are,” the boy said. “It’s nice having another man around the place.” And with that, he flew out the door.

Travis rinsed his mug and set it beside the kitchen sink. He met Nell as he left the house. “Do you mind if I plug my computer into an outlet in the bunkhouse? I want to get some work done while I’m here.”

“Not at all,” she said, her smile congenial.

Whistling, Travis returned to the bunkhouse and retrieved his laptop from his bag. With a minimum of fuss, he located an outlet and set up shop. The computer hummed its usual greeting as the screen saver reminded him that he was one hell of a good writer—a message he’d programmed in to battle the deluge of self-doubts all writers faced.

The note was just the boost his ego needed before he dug into his latest project. He’d achieved indisputable success with his series of Western stories for preadolescents and young teens. The book he planned to write next might possibly be his best; he could feel that even before he wrote the first word. A mainstream novel set in a Western ghost town—his editor had been ecstatic over the idea.

Travis never did the actual writing while he was on the road, but he wanted to document facts about the storm from the night before. One of his characters was sure to lose his socks to a hungry goat, too. He prided himself on the authenticity of his details, although in his past books, most of that background had come from research.

Rarely did anything happen to him that didn’t show up in a book sometime, one way or another. He used to think he kept his personal life out of his work, but that was a fallacy. Anyone who really knew him could follow his life by reading his books. The connections weren’t always direct. Take the end of his marriage, for example. Of the two books he’d written the year of his divorce, one took place in Death Valley and the other on the River of No Return. Those locations had corresponded to his emotional state at the time.

He didn’t want to stop and analyze why a ghost town appealed to him now. Maybe because his life felt empty and he struggled with loneliness. Travis realized without surprise that he envied Nell her children.

He entered notes about Texas, the drive from San Antonio, his impressions of the landscape and the people. The storm was described in plenty of detail. He made notes about Nell and her children. Ruth, too.

The next time he glanced up, he was shocked to discover it was midmorning. He stored the information onto a computer file and headed for the kitchen, hoping Nell kept a pot of coffee brewing during the day. He didn’t expect to see her, since she had stalls to muck out and plenty of other chores, many of which he knew next to nothing about.

He was pleasantly surprised to find her in the kitchen.

“Hello again,” he said.

“Hi.”

The spicy aroma of whatever she was cooking made him instantly hungry, despite the fact that he’d enjoyed one of the finest breakfasts he’d eaten in years.

“What are you making?” he asked. He noticed a can of beer sitting by the stove at—he glanced at his watch—10:35 a.m.! He wondered with some concern if she was a drinker…but then he saw her add it to whatever was in the large cast-iron pot.

“It’s chili,” she said. “Would you like a taste?”

“I’d love it.”

Nell dished up a small bowl and brought it to the table where Travis sat. “This might sound like a silly question, but did you happen to mention to Ruth how many nights you intend to stay?”

He delayed his first sample, wondering if Nell was looking for a way to get rid of him. He’d be keenly disappointed if that was the case. He happened to like Twin Canyons Ranch. His visit would add texture and realism to his novel. And being here was so much more interesting than staying at a hotel, or even at a bed-and-breakfast.

“I’m not sure yet,” Travis said in answer to her question.

He tried the chili. The instant his mouth closed over the spoon he realized this was the best-tasting chili he’d ever eaten, bar none. The flavors somersaulted across his tongue.

“What do you think?” she asked, her big brown eyes hopeful.

“If you don’t win that prize, I’ll want to know why.” He scooped up a second spoonful.

“You’re not just saying that, are you?” Her eyes went from hopeful to relieved.

“If I was the judge I’d award you the prize money without needing to taste anyone else’s. This is fabulous.”

Nell’s freshly scrubbed face glowed with a smile. Travis had seen his share of beautiful women, but he felt few would compare with Nell Bishop and her unspoiled beauty. The kind she possessed didn’t require makeup to enhance it. She was as real as a person could get.

“I made a terrible mistake when I saw you on the road yesterday,” she said, suddenly frowning a little.

“How’s that?”

“I implied you were…not too bright…” She pulled out a chair and sat across the table from him. “I was wrong. You’re obviously very bright, indeed!”