Texas Forever (The Tylers of Texas 6)

“Hello, you.” Kyle’s voice was cheerful. “Have I caught you on your way to the Hill Country?”

Erin was tempted to lie. But she knew that a lie might come back to bite her. “No. My dad needed me to stay home and work. I’m the boss for the day.”

“Boss, huh? That sounds sexy. Does it have anything to do with whips and chains?”

Erin groaned. “That’s not funny, Kyle, at least not today. What is it you want?”

“You said you’d call to let me know about our dinner date in the city.”

“Oh, that’s right. But didn’t I say I’d call you on Monday?”

“You did. But I might need to make reservations, so I thought I’d check with you now.”

“Sorry, I’ve been so busy with the funeral and all, I haven’t had time to think about it. Right now I’m boxing up Jasper’s things and clearing out the duplex. I didn’t expect the job to be so . . . so emotional.”

“You do sound a little ragged around the edges,” he said. “An evening out might be just what you need. If you want to go tonight, we can do it. A lot of places are open on Sunday.”

Erin sighed. Kyle really had been patient with her. He deserved an answer. “Tonight I’ll need to be here when my dad gets home,” she said. “Besides, I’ll be worn out. But how about tomorrow? Would that work for you?”

“Sure. I’ll pick you up about six-thirty. There’s a new steak house I’ve been wanting to try. I’ll call and make reservations.”

“Thanks. Got to go. I’ll see you then.”

“Dress up and look your prettiest,” he said. “Are you sure you don’t

want me to come over and help you clear out that duplex?”

“You don’t want to be with me right now. I’m a wreck. I need to do this alone.”

“Okay, then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Erin ended the call and went back to organizing Jasper’s things—what to keep, what to donate, and what to throw away. Her thoughts drifted back to the phone call. She could tell that Kyle wanted to make the evening special. In the likely event that he was planning to propose again, she’d be wise to have an answer ready. She’d given it some thought, but the only good reply she could come up with was the truth. She liked him. She even had to admit that he was good husband material. But she wasn’t sure she loved him. And with her father needing her help, she wouldn’t be ready to make marriage plans for at least a year, maybe longer. If he didn’t want to wait that long, she would understand and wish him well.

Refocusing on her task, she looked around for what to do next. The single bookshelf held a well-thumbed Bible, a few classic hardbound books like Huckleberry Finn and The Yearling, and a dozen or so paperback novels by authors like Zane Grey, Bret Harte, and Louis L’Amour. The paperbacks could be donated or recycled. But Will might want to keep the hardcover novels. She ruffled through the pages of each book to make sure nothing important, like a photograph, had been left inside. All she found was a pressed four-leaf clover and a couple torn strips of newspaper that had been used as bookmarks.

The Bible, at least, would be worth saving. Erin pulled it off the shelf and opened the weathered cover. On the first page was a record of Jasper’s family back through his grandparents—the births, marriages, and deaths.

The last date recorded, in a slightly unsteady hand, was the death of Jasper’s widowed sister, Bernice, who’d served as cook and housekeeper to the Tylers, and as surrogate mother to young Will and Beau after their mother died. Bernice, who’d retired and gone to live with a daughter, had passed away two years ago. The daughter, who’d moved back home to the Hill Country, would be at the cemetery when Jasper was laid to rest.

By right, Bernice’s daughter should have the family Bible, Erin reasoned. Too bad it hadn’t been discovered before the truck left with Jasper’s body. But never mind, she could mail it the next time she went to town.

As Erin was laying the Bible aside, something dropped from between the pages and fluttered to the floor. She picked it up. It was a small, colored photograph, probably a high school yearbook picture. The young woman in the photo had auburn curls, a freckled nose, and a dimpled smile. She wasn’t a striking beauty, but her eyes, the deep azure of Texas bluebonnets, seemed to radiate kindness and good nature.

Erin turned the picture over. Written on the back, in faded blue ink, was the name Sally, along with a blurred date.

Tears flooded Erin’s eyes. Jasper had never shown her this picture. But its edges, worn thin from handling, told her he’d spent a lot of time looking at it.

What would it be like to love someone so much—to love them your whole life, even though they were gone?

Erin slipped the photograph back into the Bible. As she closed the book and set it aside, she realized she was weeping. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her shoulders quivered with silent sobs. When her mother had died, she hadn’t allowed herself to cry. She’d been making too much of an effort to be strong for her father and shoulder all that had to be done. Now, in a shattering release of grief, the tears came; and there was nothing she could do but bury her face in Jasper’s pillow and let the flood sweep her away.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“ERIN, ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?”

At the sound of Luke’s voice, Erin raised her head. Through a blur of tears she could see him standing in the open doorway of the duplex with the morning sun at his back.

“Yes. A little emotional, but I’ll be fine,” she said, conscious of her swollen eyes and tear-streaked face. Some girls cried prettily. Erin wasn’t one of them.