Texas Born by Judith Gould Page B

to one side and frowned as,
one by one, the men stopping singing. She craned her neck up over
the top of the piano. 'Was that the door?'
    Jenny jumped to her feet. 'I think so,' she
said. 'I'll go see who it is!' She skipped out of the parlor and
into the hall.
    Elender scraped the piano bench back, got to
her feet, and looked at her gentlemen roomers clustered around the
piano—she knew that they were tired of singing and were anxious for
refreshments. 'That's enough caroling for now, I should think,' she
said, smiling warmly. 'Why don't we have some punch and food?'
    The men murmured grateful agreement and moved
over to the table, which Elender had festively draped with a white
tablecloth she'd embroidered with green holly leaves and clusters
of red berries. The big cut- glass punch bowl was the centerpiece,
and around it, mouth-watering platters of artfully arranged
delicacies were heavily laden.
    As she did each Christmas, Elender took her
place behind the table and ladled out cups of punch and handed them
around. Then she circulated among her guests. A good hostess, she
knew, made everyone feel welcome and important.
    'Auntie?'
    Elender stopped in mid-step and frowned.
Jenny was standing in the doorway with two well-bundled strangers.
She had never seen the plump red-faced woman or the tall,
cadaverous man before. In the hallway behind them, she could see
four suitcases.
    Quickly she crossed the room, folding her
hands in front of her. 'Yes?' she inquired pleasantly.
    Bazzel Grubb's eyes swept around the warm,
cheerful parlor. In one long glance he took in the tall Christmas
tree, the wreaths hanging in the windows, the little pine twigs
sprouting from behind picture frames and mirrors, the lavish
platters of food. He exchanged glances with Amanda and then stepped
forward and cleared his throat.
    'I'm Bazzel Grubb, ma'am,' he said in a dry,
unemotional voice, 'and this here is the missus, Mrs. Grubb.' He
took Amanda by the arm and pulled her forward.
    Amanda smiled shyly at Elender and lowered
her eyes.
    'Up till nine months ago, Mrs. Grubb here was
Miss Gross.' Bazzel paused and added pointedly: 'Miss Elspeth
Gross?'
    'We jest got married lately,' Amanda said
nervously. 'We moved an' we jest got yer letter. We come as soon as
we could, 'cause of li'l Elizabeth-Anne.'
    Bazzel turned to Jenny and smiled thinly.
'You're a mighty pretty young thing, Elizabeth-Anne.'
    Jenny raised her pointed chin indignantly.
'I'm Jenny,' she said loftily. 'That's 'Lizbeth-Anne.' She pointed
disdainfully at the settee and sniffed. 'She can't talk. We think
it's because she was scared speechless when the circus burned
down.'
    Bazzel's smile faded and his eyes narrowed.
He didn't even catch Amanda's I-told-you-so look. 'The circus . . .
burned?' he asked in a faltering voice, all his hopes and dreams of
easy money crumbling down around him.
    Jenny nodded vigorously. 'It was the biggest
fire ever seen in these parts—'
    'Jenny!' Elender hissed.
    Jenny froze in mid-sentence. Nothing she
might have let slip out in front of Auntie could bring about worse
repercussions; in the excitement of the Grubbs' arrival, she had
totally forgotten Auntie's stern warnings about what would happen
if she ever as much as hinted about the fire while Elizabeth-Anne
was within earshot.
    Jenny's heart sank abysmally. For once, she
hadn't even been trying to torment Elizabeth-Anne. Oh, damnation!
she thought. It had simply slipped out! And now . . . She could
feel the tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. Now she would
be well and truly punished.
    She raised her eyes fearfully to meet
Auntie's gaze, half-expecting her wrath at this very moment.
Instead, she saw a peculiar mixture of compassion and hopelessness
in Elender's eyes.
    Jenny immediately felt better. She sniffed
and wiped the tears away with her knuckles. She sensed that her
fear of punishment was without foundation and that Auntie mistook
her tears of self-pity for sorrow toward Elizabeth-Anne. Then