The Bluebonnet Betrayal Read Online Free PDF

the babies of the group.”
    KayAnn and Nell looked to be in their thirties, about twenty years younger than Pru, Ivory, and the other Austin women. Both waved and said hi. One was pale with red highlights in ash-blond hair, the other with milky-brown skin, dark hair, also with red highlights. Apart from that, they could’ve been the Doublemint twins—they had identical hairstyles cut at such severe angles they looked as if they had puppy-dog ears. Their outfits matched as well—yellow sateen shorts over patterned black tights, brown sheepskin boots, and cardigans that reached just past their bums. Their nails were painted in red, white, and blue with a lone star.
    “And this is Sweetie,” Ivory said.
    Sweetie dropped her shoulder bag and flung her arms round Pru. A mass of layered salt-and-pepper hair tumbled into Pru’s face, causing her nose to itch until Sweetie stepped back, dipped her head, and tucked a strand of the wildness behind her ear. “We are so happy to see you—I’ve never been outside of Texas before and I didn’t know what we were gonna do when we got here.”
    “Rosette Taylor.” Ivory nodded to the fourth woman. She was the only one of the group who didn’t look as if she’d spent the past ten hours on a plane—buttoned-up jacket and fresh lipstick.
    “Pru.” Rosette gave her a tight smile.
    “Happy to meet you all,” Pru said, running through the names in her head and wondering which was KayAnn and which was Nell. “Oh, but not all.” She looked past them to the arrivals door. “Is Twyla still waiting for her bags?”
    The group froze, cutting their eyes at Ivory, who locked her gaze on them as she spoke to Pru.
    “Twyla didn’t come.”

“Thanks to last month’s speaker, we all now have a greater appreciation for the trees, shrubs, and flowers that grow in Calgary. Travel opens a gardener’s eyes. Will you share your love of your favorite place?”
    The President Speaks, from
Austin Rocks!
the e-newsletter of the Austin Rock Garden Society
Chapter 4
    “Didn’t come? Twyla didn’t come?” Pru repeated the words hoping that would help her understand their meaning, which refused to sink in. “What do you mean? She has to be here—this is her garden. You said it was her idea—the Chelsea Flower Show—that she was excited, that she planned it all, that she would be in charge. What do you mean, she didn’t come?”
    Without realizing it, Pru had clamped her hand onto Ivory’s arm and was squeezing. Ivory patted the hand before pulling it off and patting it again.
    “No, don’t worry, honey. She’ll be here.” Ivory shook her head and laughed, and the frozen group broke into smiles of their own. “Twyla would not miss this for the world—would she? She’s our president, after all.”
    The group laughed and nodded, and Pru thought she heard someone murmur, “President for life.”
    “But why isn’t she here now?” Pru asked in a little voice. “You promised she would be here.” Her dream of stepping into the background of garden construction faded before her eyes, replaced by the image of one arm being tugged by Roddy MacWeeks and the other pulled on by Forde Thomas Forde.
    “Something came up, that’s all—isn’t that right, ladies?” Ivory asked.
    “And Ivory’s vice president—she’s next in line.” “Lotta good that’ll do her.” Those remarks came from the younger women, but by the time Pru looked to see who said what, both had clamped their mouths shut under a severe look from Rosette. “Sorry, Ivory,” the blonde—KayAnn? Nell?—said hastily. “We didn’t mean anything by it.”
    “That’s all right, honey,” Ivory said, now patting the blonde’s arm while still looking at Pru. “Twyla had some business to attend to and so she stayed back another day or two. But she’ll be here before you know it, and in the meantime, we’re here. Put us to work!”
    Pru nodded. “Yes, right, of course. Well, let’s get going.” She nudged the