Darby ranch. Enemy territory, she thought with a smile as she looked out over a vast emptiness made temporarily beautiful by acres of wildflowers. Spring in Texas was her favorite time of year. There were moderate temperatures, the bright colors of new leaves, flowers and grass and the wild thunderstorms that made staying indoors in front of a roaring fire the most perfect way to spend an evening. While she’d been at college she’d heard dozens of students complain that Texas was too hot, too flat and too big, but for Katie, that was the charm of living here.
She drove nearly two miles before she spotted low outbuildings in the distance. She saw horses grazing in oversize corrals and, past them, cattle. Even from nearly a mile away she could see that the buildings looked freshly painted and repaired. Times had changed for the better on the Darby ranch. Between Jack’s forays into oil and horse breeding, cash was no longer a problem. When beef prices dropped, he could afford to wait until the market was better. He could finance expansion and ride out hard times. She’d had an earful of Jack’s good fortune over the past couple of days, all delivered by her father. His angry voice had betrayed his lack of goodwill toward his neighbor, but that wasn’t news. Darbys and Fitzgeralds had hated each other since the beginning of time, or at least since Joshua Fitzgerald and Michael Darby had first settled on adjoining ranches nearly a hundred and forty years before. Time had changed the land and circumstances of the heirs to that land, but it hadn’t changed the feud.
Katie pulled up in front of the two-story sprawling ranch house and put her forest-green Explorer in park. Then she rested her hands on the steering wheel and stared at the well-tended flower garden in front of the wide front porch. A swing hung by a bay window that overlooked the main pasture. There were several rockers on the other side of the porch.
Katie smiled as she remembered being all of fifteen and desperately in love with Jack Darby. She remembered how he’d sworn that one day they would be able to tell the world they loved each other, and they would sit on the swing in front of his house and no one would say a word to either of them. It had been a foolish dream, dreamed by children. She and Jack had both become very different people.
She found herself wondering about the man he was now. Were there any similarities to the boy she’d known? When she’d seen him in town she’d noticed that he was a couple of inches taller and a little broader through the chest. He’d seemed harder, somehow, as if time had added muscle as well as experience. According to her stepmother, who kept her apprised of the local gossip, Jack had been married and divorced while Katie had been gone. Suzanne had been able to give generalities about the beginning and ending of Jack’s marriage, but she hadn’t filled in the particulars. Such as, who had ended the relationship and did Jack still miss his ex-wife?
“Not that it matters to me,” Katie said aloud as she turned off the engine and grabbed her bag of equipment. “This is about business, nothing more.”
She almost believed it, she thought as she made her way to the front of the house. Unfortunately, instead of knocking, she found herself wondering why she’d never been able to put Jack completely out of her mind. Had his ex-wife had the same problem? Jack seemed much more able to get the past behind him. Whenever he and Katie had met in town over the years when she’d been home for holidays and birthdays, he’d offered a polite hello but nothing more. Two days ago, he’d acted as if they’d barely been acquainted with each other. Eleven years ago she’d declared her love and had begged Jack to run away with her. Apparently that had mattered a whole lot more to her than to him.
Forget it, she told herself as she knocked firmly on the front door. From inside, a voice called that the door was open. Katie let herself in and stepped into the front room.
When she’d been little, her family had been the affluent one and the Darbys had been struggling. Looking around at the new furniture and refinished hardwood floor, she saw evidence of Jack’s success. Times had certainly changed.
“Katie, I’m hoping that’s you,” Hattie Darby called. “Head down the hall. I’m in the first room on the right.”
“Yes, it’s me,” Katie said, following the directions.
She crossed the huge front room, filled with three comfortable sofas and two sets of wing chairs, all done in dark blue, then entered the hallway. The first room on the right was a recently converted library. Shelves still ran around three of the four walls. The fourth contained a big window. In the center of the room stood a hospital bed, a table on wheels and two stationary nightstands. Several floor lamps would provide illumination in the evening.
Katie turned her attention to the bed and the woman sitting there. Hattie Darby had to be in her fifties, but with her long, dark hair hanging in a thick braid over one shoulder and laughter dancing in her dark eyes, she barely looked thirty-five. Jack’s mother was a pleasant woman with a well-known generous heart and a lust for adventure. Which was the reason she was living in a hospital bed with a brace and partial cast.
“Katherine Marie Fitzgerald, you’re quite the grown woman, aren’t you?” Hattie asked, holding out both hands.
Without thinking, Katie set her bag on the floor and crossed to the side of the bed. She found herself smiling at Hattie. “Hello, Mrs. Darby.”
The older woman frowned. “Please, don’t call me that. I’m Hattie. After all, you’re going make me sweat and listen to me swear through my exercises. Under those circumstances it would be silly to be formal, don’t you think?” Hattie squeezed her hands and released them. “Besides, I’ve known you since before you were born.”
Katie laughed. “I hadn’t thought of it that way, but you’re right.” She pulled up the chair by the bed and settled on the seat. “I’ve spoken to Dr. Remington. He says you’re doing very well. How are you feeling?”
Hattie motioned to her lower body and sighed. “Like a fool. Jack keeps telling me I should have known better than to show off at the Thompsons’ barbecue, but I couldn’t help myself. Several broken bones later, I guess I’ve learned my lesson.”
Katie reached for her bag and pulled out a folder. “I have all the information here on your injuries and your recovery. Dr. Remington would like you to have a month of daily physical therapy. Then another month of three times a week. The aggressive schedule is to help you regain as much of your former range of motion and strength as possible.”
Hattie nodded. “I want to be up and barrel racing real soon. The sight of a good-looking woman on a horse always makes the men around here go crazy, and I could use a mild flirtation or two in my life.”
Katie looked at Hattie’s pretty features. There were a few lines around her eyes and mouth, but they only added to her attraction. Her strong features reminded Katie a little of Jack.
“I’ll see what I can do about getting you back on the horse.” She dug a pen out of her bag and wrote the date on her chart. “Are you getting around all right? Any trouble I should know about?”
Hattie snorted. “I can barely take a breath without someone running in to ask me if I’m all right. Jack comes to fuss over me three or four times a day. Nora, my oldest daughter, comes in from town every day to check on me. She offered to move back in for a time, but I told her I was fine. You raise them and finally get them out and the first thing you know, they want to move back.”
Hattie might be complaining, but Katie heard the love in her voice.
“Dr. Remington said he would be willing to recommend a part-time nurse if you think you need one,” Katie reminded her.
“I’m fine.” Shrewd dark eyes, so much like Jack’s, settled on her face. “I just realized this is the first time you’ve been inside my house. Isn’t that so?”
Katie considered the question. “I guess it is.”
Hattie sighed. She settled back on her pillows and folded her hands across her stomach. “The Darbys and Fitzgeralds have been neighbors for over a hundred years and still they fight. The feud has never made sense to me and it never well. I’ll bet you barely know any of my children and they barely know you. What a tragedy. We should have been friends, looking