She came to a juncture in the road and checked her map to choose which way she should turn. According to the directions, Bitter End was inaccessible by car. Which made sense, otherwise the town would have been found and explored much earlier.
If the makeshift map was at all accurate, Bitter End wasn’t anywhere close to the road, and the turnoff point was some distance yet. She inhaled deeply, forcing herself to remain calm and in control of her emotions. As she drew near the section of highway where she’d need to drive onto unpaved land, she slowed to a crawl.
Her heart flew into her throat when she saw tire tracks that turned off the road. She was sure they were made by the vehicle Travis had rented.
She remembered again what had happened to Richard. Cal had found him in Bitter End, near death, half-crazed from thirst and his injuries. A stairway had collapsed on him, and he’d been two days without water or medical attention. It was described as a miracle that he’d survived. He’d been airlifted to Austin and hospitalized.
Nell shook off the memory and concentrated on driving. The terrain was hilly and uneven and the truck pitched and heaved first one way and then another. Fortunately it was a clear night and a bright three-quarter moon had risen; at least she could see where she was going.
Why Travis was in such an all-fired hurry to find the town she’d never know. He was probably on deadline. Here she was, desperately worried about a man who was no doubt planning to make a laughingstock out of the entire community.
He’d urged her to see the town herself, and now he was getting his wish. Nell slowed, squinting into the distance, convinced she’d seen a flash of light.
She eased the pickup to a stop and opened the door. Standing on the narrow running board, she peered in the direction she’d seen the light. It wasn’t visible now.
“Travis,” she yelled at the top of her lungs. She waited for a response and thought, just for a second, that she’d heard one.
Getting back into the truck, she sped ahead, heedless of the terrain. Sure enough the light reappeared.
“Travis! Travis!” She slammed on the brakes when he was caught in the farthest reaches of her headlights.
Jumping out of the cab, she shouted, “Travis?”
“Here!” As he raced toward her she stumbled in his direction.
He held a flashlight, which he dropped when she neared. He threw open his arms. She wasn’t sure which to do first, kiss him or slug him.
She fell into his arms with a force that might have knocked a slighter man to the ground. All at once nothing mattered, except that he was alive, uninjured, and she was in the warm security of his embrace.
“What happened? Where were you? Dear God in heaven, did you have any idea how worried I was?”
He shut her up with a kiss, then explained everything in five simple words.
“I ran out of gas.”
CHAPTER 7
“YOU RAN OUT OF GAS?” Nell shrieked.
Travis felt foolish enough without her yelling at him, then figured it was what he deserved. He didn’t know how he could’ve let something like that happen. His only excuse was his unfamiliarity with the vehicle—pretty lame as excuses went.
“I’m sorry,” he told her.
“Sorry—all you can say is you’re sorry?”
To her shock and dismay, Nell broke into sobs. She covered her face with both hands and half turned from him. Stunned that he’d driven her to tears, he moved to reach for her but stopped, not sure how she’d react to being held when she was in such distress. The sight of her weeping was more than he could bear. He gently drew her to him, comforting her, holding her loosely. She struggled at first and he let her.
“You’re right, Nell, sorry just doesn’t cut it,” he whispered soothingly.
“You’re a fool,” she told him, wiping the tears from her face.
“I know.”
“You’re not supposed to agree with me.”
He cradled her face between his hands. “You were worried sick, weren’t you?”
Even in the dark, with only the headlights behind her and the glow of the moon, he read Nell’s fear.
“I…I was the one who found Jake,” she said. “I was so afraid you…”
She didn’t finish; she didn’t need to. Travis wrapped his arms completely around her, his heart pounding with an emotion so overwhelming it made him weak in the knees.
“I’m fine. A little chagrined but fine.”
“I’m not,” she said and clung to him.
Holding her like this was worth every moment of anxiety he’d endured, every second he’d floundered around, hoping he’d headed in the right direction. Common sense said he should have remained with the vehicle, but he’d felt compelled to make his way back to the road. Back to Nell.
She sniffled and raised her head to gaze up at him. Their eyes met, and something warm and wonderful passed between them. A recognition, an acceptance, a consent.
It was a profound moment.
Travis lowered his mouth to hers, and when their lips met, he barely managed to stifle a groan, it was that good. His lips lingered on hers as he prolonged the kiss, not wanting it to end.
She slipped her arms around his neck. He’d been the one to initiate the few kisses they’d exchanged to this point. She’d allowed his kisses, even enjoyed them, but she’d always remained slightly aloof, tentative.
That restraint was gone now. Her fingers were in his hair and her mouth clung to his, warm, demanding, erotic. By the time the kiss ended, Travis felt weak, drained—and at the same time exhilarated.
“Nell…sweet Nell.” His voice was barely audible.
As she buried her face in his shoulder, he closed his eyes and breathed in her scent, the scent that belonged only to her. Equal parts soap and hay…and Nell. A cool breeze rushed against his face, and he silently prayed it would clear his head. At the moment all he could think about was making love to Nell. Not here, he told himself. The timing, the location, everything was wrong, but his body seemed intent on convincing him otherwise.
“Let’s talk,” he murmured.
“What do you want to talk about?”
“I have a few thoughts I want to discuss with you.”
“Now?”
He nodded. “It won’t take long.”
He slid an arm about her waist and they walked toward the pickup. Nell turned off the engine and lowered the tailgate. They sat on it side by side.
Now that he had her attention, Travis wasn’t sure where to start. He reached for her hand and held it between both of his; unable to resist, he kissed her knuckles. A heavy sigh worked its way through his chest as he gathered his thoughts.
“Travis?”
“First of all,” he said, “I’m sorry I worried you.”
She made a small sound as if to say now that he was found, all was forgiven.
“You came looking for me.” His respect for her multiplied a hundredfold, especially now that he knew she’d been the one to find her dying husband. She’d had no idea what to expect tonight, but she’d put aside her fears and gone in search of him. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone braver than you.”
“Me?” She laughed softly. “I’m the biggest coward who ever lived.”
“Not true.”
“If I was as brave as you suggest, I wouldn’t have asked you to stay away from Bitter End.”
He smiled, following her thoughts. It didn’t surprise him that they aligned with his. “That leads nicely into what I wanted to discuss with you.”
“Bitter End?”
He felt her stiffen and searched for the words to reassure her.
“Did you find it?” she asked.
“Unfortunately, no. I got lost. My map-reading abilities leave much to be desired. I haven’t a clue how close I was or wasn’t.”
She made no comment.
“Next time I want you to come with me.”
“This is a joke, right?” she burst out.
He shook his
head. His hands continued to hold hers. “You came looking for me—”
“Yes, but…”
“Don’t you realize how much courage that took?”
“But I couldn’t bear not knowing—”
“You also need to know what happened in Bitter End. You and everyone else in this community. The truth is long overdue. It’s time to uncover the past, place it in the proper perspective, stop pretending Bitter End doesn’t exist. Once everyone knows what happened there, the allure will be gone. You won’t need to worry about Jeremy and Emma sneaking away to find it on their own.”
“They wouldn’t do that,” she insisted weakly.
“Didn’t you say your own father did? And Grady and the Patterson brothers searched for it when they were kids.”
“Who told you that?”
“Savannah,” he said. “This afternoon. They aren’t the only ones, either.”
Nell turned away from him.
“Why me?” she asked, her voice weary.
“I need someone who knows the history, someone who’ll help me understand it. According to Savannah, your family was among the original settlers. All I know is what Richard Weston told me and—”
“I wouldn’t believe a word that snake said!”
“Right. So will you help me?” he asked quietly. “Come to Bitter End with me. Together we can solve this mystery once and for all.”
Nell’s shoulders rose with a sigh. “I…need some time to think it over.”
“All right.” He suspected that in the end she’d agree.
“You ready to go home now?” he asked.
“Home,” she repeated. “Yes.” She glanced at him. “We’ll get your car tomorrow.”
When they were in the truck cab and Nell had started the engine, it suddenly occurred to him that he’d referred to Twin Canyons as home.
Home. That was how it was beginning to feel.
RUTH SAT IN HER ROCKER and worked the crochet hook and yarn. While her fingers were busy with their task, her mind sped off on its own course. Nell had been gone more than two hours now, worried sick about that tenderfoot.
The children were upstairs asleep and the house was quiet. Calm. A cat nestled in Nell’s chair, and Lucky, Jeremy’s dog, slept on the braided rug in front of the fireplace. Yet Ruth’s mind raced.
She’d been a youngster herself, about Emma’s age, when she first heard the rumors about Bitter End. She remembered a schoolmate had told her about the mysterious ghost town, hidden in the hills. She was convinced it’d all been a lie, a story her friend had concocted. Then, years later, when she was wise and mature and all of thirteen, she’d overheard Edwina and Lily Moorhouse mention a ghost town.
Ruth trusted the Moorhouse sister sand had asked them about it. They, too, had claimed it was real and explained that the history of Promise was tied to the forgotten town. Only a few people knew about it, and even fewer knew where it was situated.
Ruth sighed and her hands went idle in her lap. Only one other person had shared her secret—which was that she’d been to Bitter End herself—and he was long dead. At eighteen she’d decided she would find this town. Cocky and self-confident, she’d gone in search of it.
That was how she’d met Jerome Bishop—her Jerry. He was older and had fought overseas toward the end of the Second World War, coming home a decorated hero.
She remembered how curious she’d been about him, how interested. But he was nearly thirty and she was still in her teens. He’d encountered her riding on his land and asked her a few questions. She didn’t dare tell him the truth, so she’d fabricated something and prayed he’d believe her.
He hadn’t, but said if she was a cattle thief, she was by far the prettiest one he’d ever seen.
Ruth smiled at the memory. A few days later she was back, certain she wasn’t anywhere close to Bishop land. But Jerry found her, and in her rush to get away and avoid his questions, she’d let her horse escape and twisted her ankle as she tried to catch the reins.
In his concern about her injury, Jerry hadn’t plied her with questions but carefully examined her foot, his touch gentle for such a big man. She’d been half in love with him following their first meeting, but after this, her heart was forever lost.
Naturally such a romance was impossible. He was older, more worldly; she was just a schoolgirl. He didn’t kiss her, nor did he chastise her. Instead, Jerry had rounded up her mare, then escorted her almost the entire way home. She’d been too shy to talk much, giving one-word replies to his questions. Before he’d left her, he asked her to forget the ridiculous notion of finding Bitter End on her own—not that she’d ever admitted she was looking for it. He’d gone so far as to suggest she stay home in the afternoons and read books or talk on the phone with her friends. Ruth had smiled politely and said she’d take his advice under consideration.
The next evening he’d stopped by the house to discuss ranching with her father. Ruth had been involved in helping her brothers with their homework. She felt Jerry’s eyes on her, and through the whole evening, she feared he’d mention her afternoon horseback excursions. He didn’t.
The next time she ventured out horseback riding, Jerry was waiting for her.
“Are you meeting a lover?” he’d demanded.
“No.” She’d been appalled that he’d even think such a thing.
She doubted he believed her, but she couldn’t bear letting him think she loved another man. Instead, she’d broken down and told him she was attracted to someone who felt he was too old for her. If he’d guessed she meant him, Jerry never said. When he couldn’t convince her to forget about finding the lost town, he’d reluctantly agreed to accompany her.
The day they’d stumbled upon the ghost town was one she would long remember. That was when Jerry had first kissed her. Ruth wasn’t sure which had excited her more—his kiss or locating the town.
But it was the only time they’d ever been to the town. High on exhilaration, they’d walked down the center of the deserted main street. Soon they realized something was very wrong. It was spring and the hills were blanketed with bluebonnets, yet Ruth noticed not a single flower in Bitter End.
The place was bleak, dark. A huge blighted tree stood at one end of town. Everything was dead.
But that wasn’t what had kept them from returning. It was the ugly feeling, the sensation of dread that pressed against her heart, making it almost difficult to breathe. Jerry had kept her close to his side and mumbled that the town reminded him of the feeling he’d had when he came upon battlegrounds during the war. It felt like death, he’d said.
Whatever had happened was horrible enough to cry out from the land, from the buildings and everything around them. Whatever it was had killed this town and forever marked it for ruin.
They’d never gone back. Never wanted to. Finding the lost town had been their secret, a silent bond they’d shared. To the best of Ruth’s knowledge, they’d never spoken of it again.
Afterward there’d been no reason for them to meet. Ruth had missed Jerry more than she could say, but if he missed her, he didn’t let on. They met in passing twice—both times in Promise—and exchanged little more than casual greetings. Ruth was miserable, loving him the way she did, and she was sure he cared for her, too. So she decided to take matters into her own hands. It was a brazen thing she did; she smiled at the memory of it and the shocked look on Jerry’s face the day she rode over to his family’s ranch. She’d figured she had nothing to lose. Her ostensible reason was that she’d be graduating from high school within a few weeks and needed the advice of an older more experienced person about her best course of action.
He’d asked about her options and she’d mentioned two: marrying him or moving to Dallas with a friend and finding work there. Jerry’s face had tightened, and then he’d suggested that marrying him was probably the better of the two ideas, but he preferred to do the asking.
She granted him that much and waited impatiently for him to make his move. The day she
graduated from high school he stopped by the family home with a diamond ring. Afterward they’d argued amiably about who’d proposed to whom; it was a private joke between them.
A few years after they were married, Jerry’s mother had died and they’d inherited the chest.
The very chest that sat in the attic of this house, Jake and Nell’s place. She’d gone through the contents once. To a historian the chest would have been a treasure trove, filled with bits and pieces of life in the nineteenth-century hill country. But it was more than that. Ruth had recognized almost immediately that some of the things packed in the cedar-lined chest had come from Bitter End.
She’d looked them over, then closed up the box and never investigated it again. Ruth supposed it was because she’d been so young at the time, and that one visit to the town had continued to haunt her. She’d wanted nothing more to do with Bitter End. No link to it. If she couldn’t throw out the chest—and she couldn’t—then she’d hide it away, obliterating from her mind any memory of that horrible place. Jerry must have agreed, because once he knew the contents, he’d never asked about it again.
The time had come, Ruth believed, to reopen that chest. They had to disclose what was known about the town, discover its secrets, undo whatever damage they could. She was too old now for such a task. But it seemed somehow fated that Travis Grant had arrived when he did.
She would talk to him, show him the chest, whether Nell wanted her to or not.
That decided, Ruth picked up her crochet hook and started back to work. The clock chimed nine; Nell would be returning with Travis soon. She had a good feeling about those two. They were well matched, the way Nell and Jake had been.
Yes, the more she thought about it, the more fated Travis’s appearance began to seem.
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Nell was in the kitchen preparing the children’s breakfast when Ruth came downstairs.
“I take it you found Travis,” her mother-in-law said with a slight smile.
“I found him,” Nell confirmed.
As if to verify her words, the back door opened and Travis stepped inside. He looked fresh from the shower, his hair wet and recently combed. His gaze searched out Nell’s and he smiled. “’Morning, everyone.”