Page 2 of Texas Honor

“She’s almost twenty-two,” Lillian said. “What’s going to become of her?” she asked loudly, peeking out the corner of her eye at him.

He whistled softly. “Therapy would be her best bet.”

“She won’t talk to anyone,” she said quickly, cocking her head to one side. “Now, I know how you feel about women. I don’t even blame you. But I can’t turn my back on my own niece.” She straightened, playing her trump card. “Now, I’m fully prepared to give up my job and go to her—”

“Oh, for God’s sake, you know me better than that after fifteen years,” he returned curtly. “Send her an airline ticket.”

“She’s in Georgia—”

“So what?”

Lillian toyed with a pan of rolls. “Well, thanks. I’ll make it up to you somehow,” she said with a secretive grin.

“If you’re feeling that generous, how about an apple pie?”

The older woman chuckled. “Thirty minutes,” she said and dashed off to the kitchen like a woman half her age. She could have danced with glee. He’d fallen for it! Stage one was about to take off!Forgive me, Mari,she thought silently and began planning again.

Ward stared after her with confused emotions. He hoped that he’d made the right decision. Maybe he was just going soft in his old age. Maybe...

“My bed was more uncomfortable than a sheet filled with cacti,” came a harsh, angry old voice from the doorway. He turned as his grandmother ambled in using her cane, broad as a beam and as formidable as a raiding party, all cold green eyes and sagging jowls and champagne-tinted hair that waved around her wide face.

“Why don’t you sleep in the stable?” he asked her pleasantly. “Hay’s comfortable.”

She glared at him and waved her cane. “Shame on you, talking like that to a pitiful old woman!”

“I pity anyone who stands within striking distance of that cane,” he assured her. “When do you leave for Galveston?”

“Can’t wait to get rid of me, can you?” she demanded as she slid warily into a chair beside him.

“Oh, no,” he assured her. “I’ll miss you like the plague.”

“You cowhand,” she grumbled, glaring at him. “Just like your father. He was hell to live with, too.”

“You sweet-tempered little woman,” he taunted.

“I guess you get that wit from your father. And he got it from me,” she confessed. She poured herself a cup of coffee. “I hope Belinda is easier to get along with than you and your saber-toothed housekeeper.”

“I am not saber-toothed,” Lillian assured her as she brought in more rolls.

“You are so,” Mrs. Jessup replied curtly.

Lillian snorted and walked out.

“Are you going to let her talk to me like that?” Mrs. Jessup demanded of her grandson.

“You surely don’t want me to walk into that kitchen alone?” he asked her. “She keeps knives in there.” He lowered his voice and leaned toward her. “And a sausage grinder. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”

Mrs. Jessup tried not to laugh, but she couldn’t help herself. She hit at him affectionately. “Reprobate. Why do I put up with you?”

“You can’t help yourself,” he said with a chuckle. “Eat. You can’t travel halfway across Texas on an empty stomach.”

She put down her coffee cup. “Are you sure this night flight is a good idea?”

“It’s less crowded. Besides, Belinda and her newest boyfriend are going to meet you at the airport,” he said. “You’ll be safe.”

“I guess so.” She stared at the platter of beef that was slowly being emptied. “Give me some of that before you gorge yourself!”

“It’s my cow,” he muttered, green eyes glittering.

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