Texas fury Read Free Page B

years. For a moment he felt like God surveying His creation. God had created the world out of nothing. He, Cary Assante, had taken his imagination, his own money, his wife, Amelia's, faith in him, and had gone to work. Five years into his project, he'd run out of money. Unable to let his dream slip into obscurity, he'd solicited the aid of the Cole-mans and the Hasegawas. They'd all invested—in him, they said. From that point on he'd doubled his workday, arriving at the building site before first light and returning home long past midnight. Amelia should have divorced him for his neglect; instead, she encouraged him to keep on. He was glad now that he'd listened. He hadn't lied to the Colemans, to Thad Kings-ley, and to Shadaharu Hasegawa when he told them their investment would be returned tenfold. Their belief in him made him deliver; it was that simple.
    Cary felt like singing. Lyrics bubbled forth. Come fly with me. .. .He wished he could remember the rest of the words to the song. He hummed the melody as he leaned on the railing of his balcony. Down below ... his blood, his sweat, and his tears.
    Nothing in his life had prepared Cary for this moment, this day. This was the bubbly. He'd earned this moment—a moment of aloneness to savor his creation. For a little while, until the dedication, Miranda had belonged to him. Now it would belong to the world.
    Come fly with me. ... It sounded right. If only he could take wing and fly over his creation. ... If only. ... He wished

    he could keep forever this wonderful, intoxicating feeling that was transfusing his body.
    This was his dream. Dreams were something the Colemans understood. Moss, Amelia's brother and Billie's first husband, had had a dream, too, but leukemia claimed his life before his revolutionary' slant-winged aircraft—his dream—could be brought to reality. After Moss's death, Billie forged ahead, with the family's help, to make the dream a reality. She'd faltered just as he had, but she'd righted herself, just as he had. And with the aid of Shadaharu Hasegawa, Moss Coleman's slant-winged plane took wing before the entire world.
    Cary shivered, but not from the cold, even though the temperature was biting and well below the freezing mark. It was a shiver of elation and pride. He imagined he could see Moss Coleman standing on some fluffy cloud giving him his cocky thumbs-up salute and saying, "I couldn't have done it better!"
    There was no doubt in his mind that he now belonged.
    His feeling of pride stayed with him. Yes, he'd faltered, and yes, the Japanese side of the family had come to the rescue again—to his rescue. He'd never negate the monetary help he received or forget the confidence the Colemans had in him and in his ability.
    Cary's step was jaunty, his grin in place. Not bad for a boy raised on the charity of a New York City orphanage. From runny-nosed, barefoot, bare-assed orphan to this.
    He belonged now. He proved to himself that he was finally worthy of being one of them.
    Come fly with me. .. .
    The cold November wind buffeted him, pushing him back against the sliding doors. He should go inside, where it was warm and cozy. Inside with Amelia.
    "If you'd take those clumsy clodhoppers off, you might be able to walk normally. How many times do I have to tell you to leave those work boots by the back door—you almost broke my figurines!" Tess Buckalew shrilled.
    Coots Buckalew was in a fighting mood. Nothing had gone the way he'd planned today, and this shindig at Miranda had him twisted in knots. Tess had signed a lease and told him afterward that he'd forked out sixty grand in rent for a suite of rooms at Assante Towers for a year. Rent he couldn't afford. He'd wring her skinny neck, but then he'd go to prison, and
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    there was no way in hell he was going to spend his remaining years in jail because of Tess.
    The voice he aimed over his shoulder was a thick mixture of gravel and molasses. "Shut up, Tess. You got me into this, and I