Savannah had been slaving in the kitchen since before dawn. Neighbors he hadn’t seen in months had brought over pies, cakes and an assortment of side dishes; they’d delivered picnic tables and dozens of lawn chairs. And now Grady was indebted to each and every one of them. His neighbors would be looking for return favors, too. Especially of the social kind. It wouldn’t take long for the invites to arrive, and he’d be expected to accept. Damn it all. He’d never been a partygoer and didn’t intend to start now.
“What I’d like to know,” Grady muttered to his friends, “is how the hell he’s paying for all this.”
“Did you ask him?” Glen, the younger of the Patterson brothers, inquired.
“I didn’t have a chance.” The party was happening before Grady even knew there was going to be one. If he’d had a clue what his brother was up to, he would have put a stop to it. The last time he’d seen this many people had been the day he buried his parents. Leave it to Richard to dredge up the most pain-filled memory of his life.
“Who’s that?” Glen asked, directing their attention to a blonde woman walking in from the driveway. The row of cars stretched all the way to the road. Fifty at last count.
Grady didn’t recognize the newcomer, either. She was young and pretty, if such attributes mattered to him, which they didn’t. She didn’t seem to know many people because she stood at the edge of the crowd, looking self-conscious in a pin-striped power suit. Whoever she was, she’d completely overdressed for the party.
Cal sat up and gave her a long stare. “Isn’t that the new doc? Jane something-or-other.”
“She’s a doctor?” Glen asked with disbelief. “Promise has a lady doctor? When did all this happen?”
“Last week.” Cal nudged his brother with an elbow. “Don’t you two read the paper?”
“Who has time?” Grady wanted to know.
“Cal keeps the weekly edition by the john, don’t you, big brother?” Glen teased.
“Well, it gets read, doesn’t it?” Cal chided. “Her picture was on the front page. She’s here on one of those government programs.”
“What government program?”
“I don’t know the name of it, but the paper said she agreed to work off her medical-school loans by volunteering her skill in a deprived area.”
“Promise is a deprived area?” This was news to Grady.
“Must be,” Cal muttered, sounding as surprised as Grady.
“Hey, we got a doctor who didn’t fight in the battle for the Alamo?”
Doc Cummings had retired at the first of the year at the age of seventy. At least he admitted to being seventy, but in Grady’s opinion, he was on the shady side of that figure. He’d delivered Grady and just about everyone else in town under forty. Rumor had it that Doc Cummings was lazing his days away on the Gulf coast now, eating shrimp and soaking up the sunshine. Grady wished the old coot well.
Caroline Daniels strolled past, carrying a bowl of potato salad. She returned a minute or so later with an empty one. Straining, Grady glanced into the kitchen and caught a glimpse of Savannah feverishly making another batch of salad. Smith was there with her, sitting at the table and dutifully peeling potatoes. Those two were as thick as thieves, despite all his warnings. His talk with Laredo Smith hadn’t made any difference; he suspected Savannah was still planning a return visit to Bitter End. It hadn’t been easy swallowing his pride and asking for Smith’s help. The wrangler appeared to have gotten the wrong message, too, because he spent every available minute with Savannah, just as if Grady had given the pair his blessing. He hadn’t. Despite his job offer, he wanted the other man off the ranch and the sooner the better.
“Are you going to dance with me or not?” Breathlessly Ellie Frasier plopped herself down next to Glen. They were good friends and had been for years. Grady had never understood how a man could be friends with a woman and not get romantically involved. But that seemed to be the way it was with Glen and Ellie. They were friends and nothing more.
Ellie needed a confidant these days, according to Cal. Her father was terminally ill and had been transferred to a hospital in San Antonio. Her mother was spending all her time there while Ellie ran the family store. Grady sympathized; he knew all too well the pain of losing a parent. Ellie was young to be taking on such heavy responsibility, but from what he heard, she was up to the task. She spent as much time as possible visiting her father, and between driving to San Antonio and managing the business, she was running herself ragged. It surprised him a little that Ellie was at the party, and he guessed Glen had something to do with that. Getting away from all the emotional pressures was probably the best thing for her.
“So what about that dance, Patterson?”
“Seems to me you’ve already got yourself a dance partner,” Glen said. He stared pointedly in Richard’s direction. Grady’s brother was at his most charming, teasing and laughing with the women, exchanging jokes with the men. Outgoing, personable, the life of the party—and self-appointed guest of honor, to boot.
“I gotta say,” Ellie said, speaking to Grady, “your brother’s mighty light on his feet.”
Yeah, in more ways than one. Grady was tempted to say it but didn’t. He frowned, instead. Richard had been on the dance floor for hours without revealing any signs of slowing down. Grady suspected his brother had danced with every woman in town at least once, and the pretty ones twice. He’d taken a liking to Ellie, that was for sure. Grady had seen the two of them dancing three or four times already. He wanted to issue a word of caution, seeing how vulnerable Ellie must be feeling, but he bit his tongue. She’d find out soon enough what kind of man his brother was.
“I’d forgotten how much fun Richard could be,” Ellie said.
“He’s a regular laugh fest,” Grady agreed sarcastically; he couldn’t help it. Ellie studied him for a moment and he hoped she’d gotten the message.
“Don’t mind Grady,” Glen said, looping his arm around Ellie’s shoulders. “He’s just sore because he doesn’t have anyone to dance with.”
Grady’s frown deepened. He wasn’t about to make a fool of himself in front of the entire town. While Richard might know his way around a dance floor, Grady had been cursed with two left feet. The last time he’d attempted to dance he’d been in his teens and forced to wear a suit and boutonniere.
“I haven’t seen this many people since the Willie Nelson Fourth of July picnic,” Cal said. Like Grady, his friend wasn’t much of a social animal. Glen was by far the most outgoing of the three men. He’d tried to drag Grady off to the town’s biggest function—next to the cattlemen’s dance and the rodeo—for the past six years. Every Fourth of July Promise threw a Willie Nelson picnic, hoping the popular entertainer would agree to visit. Willie had politely declined each year, but the town councillors hadn’t let that deter them from holding the affair in the singer’s honor.
“Come on,” Ellie urged, tugging at Glen’s hand. “I want to dance.” With a show of reluctance, Glen untangled his feet and stood.
The pair were out of earshot when Cal spoke. “We won’t see him the rest of the night. Once he’s out on the floor, he won’t quit.”
“Go ahead if you feel like it,” Grady told his friend. “No need to keep me company.”
“No thanks. I’m happy to sit here for a while.”
Cal lingered an hour or so, not that they said much. This was what Grady enjoyed most about his friend. They didn’t have to fill every silence with idle chatter. A couple of times he was on the verge of mentioning Savannah’s recent trek to the ghost town, but he held his tongue. The last time either one of them had talked about Bitter End, they’d been in their teens. Anyway, there wasn’t anything Cal could tell him he didn’t already know. Besides, Savannah was his concern, not his neighbor’s. After a time Cal drifted away to get himself some barbecue.
Laughter and music abounded. It disgusted Grady to watch his brother. Richard continued to be sociable and entertaining, the focus of the party. It certainly hadn’t taken him long to put the good people of Promise under his spell. Once again Grady wondered how his brother intended to pay for all this, but it wasn’t his concern, and he wasn’t going to worry about it.