Authors: Kristine Rolofson
“Yes, ma’am,” Kate said, knowing full well her job and lifestyle wouldn’t include a husband and babies any time soon. “I’ll do my best.”
“You should marry a Western man,” Gran mused. “They don’t come any finer.” She frowned to herself and rinsed the silverware under the running water. “Most of ’em, anyway.”
CHAPTER TEN
S
HE’D FORGOTTEN
about the yearbooks—those black-and-white photographs of the class of ’55, the autographs, the recounting of dances and football games. Martha thumbed through the musty-smelling pages of the
Beauville Bonanza
—what a silly name for a Texas yearbook—and searched for the photos of herself with her best friend, Nancy. They’d been inseparable since first grade, had stayed friends until Nancy’s death in 1982. She thought about her nephew. Poor Jake. He’d been all alone then, out there on the Dead Horse with old R.J. depending on him. Martha wanted to take the teenager home with her, but R.J. wouldn’t hear of it. Nancy had been his housekeeper for years; together they’d raised Jake.
The following year R.J.’s son and daughter-in-law had been killed in a car wreck, their son Bobby left an orphan. And Jake had been there for the old man, helping to raise a wild kid as best as he knew how.
Until, of course, he’d gotten married and moved
onto his own place. At least R.J. had done the right thing by leaving Jake that ranch. A man needed something of his own, her Ian always said whenever Gert made noises about them moving out to the Lazy K. Ian enjoyed his store, liked selling hardware and all that kind of thing. Martha had kept the books and they’d done real well, especially after Kate was older and Martha had taken that job at the town hall. She’d always been glad she’d lived in town.
“Mom?”
Martha looked up to see Kate standing in the bedroom doorway. “Hi. I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I tried to be quiet, in case you were asleep.”
“Oh, I stay up later now that I don’t have to get up for work in the morning.” She shut the yearbook and set it aside on the nightstand. She’d been sitting on the edge of her bed and had been so engrossed in the yearbook she hadn’t even put on her nightgown yet. “I guess your grandmother stopped writing?”
“Yes.” Kate smiled and sat down on the bed beside her. “She let me straighten the piles. And I even swept the kitchen floor before she sent me home. I left the computer with her, though, so she knows I’ll be back tomorrow.” She reached over for the
Bonanza.
“Is this your class?”
“Yes.” She waited while Kate thumbed through the book and found her picture.
“You were so pretty. You don’t look like Gran, though.”
“My father said I was the image of his mother.” She gently took the book out of Kate’s hands and held it on her lap. “Enough of all that,” she said. “You’ve been digging around this stuff all day. What are your plans for tomorrow?”
“Emily and I were going to try to have lunch together if she could get a sitter. I told Gran I’d be out in the afternoon to do some work on the book and then I thought we could all go to the Steak Barn for dinner.”
“It’s closed on Mondays.”
“Oh. Well, we’ll go on Tuesday night instead.”
“This is supposed to be your vacation,” Martha sighed. “I can’t believe your grandmother is making you help her write a book just because she wants to be on television.”
“I don’t mind. It’s fascinating, actually.” Her beautiful daughter smiled her father’s smile and Martha blinked back tears. She missed Ian so much. “It’s giving me ideas for the show,” Kate added.
“Speaking of the show, my goodness, Kate, every time I turn it on someone’s always pulling someone else into bed.”
Kate laughed. “That’s what the viewers want to see. Romance.”
“Romance,” Martha repeated, thinking of her own situation. “Well, I guess we could all use a little more of that.”
“Are we talking about Mr. Jackson?”
“No, we are not.” She stood up and went over to her dresser to find a nightgown. “He’s just a friend.” For now, though he’d kissed her goodnight tonight.
“Emily said he’s quite the town bachelor.”
“Emily’s mother-in-law keeps inviting him over for dinner.”
“Does he go?”
“I don’t ask,” she said, picking out a chaste lavender gown. “It’s none of my business.” But she knew anyway, of course. Carl had gone once, thinking he was going to a dinner party. Party of two was more like it, but Irene had always been a little sneaky like that. Like not giving anyone the correct recipe for her lemon bars that year they’d tried a Christmas cookie swap.
When she turned around, Kate had the yearbook again. The girl had a one-track mind, just like her grandmother.
“Your best friend married your brother? That must have been wonderful.”
“It should have been, but Hank wasn’t an ideal husband.” There. She’d spoken the truth without
saying anything. It was a skill she’d honed over the years. Even Ian, bless him, never suspected a thing.
“Why not?”
“He drank. Like his father, Mother’s first husband. Handsome, charming, all Texas good ol’ boy, but with a streak…”
“A streak of what?” Kate prompted, an absolutely fascinated look on her face. For heaven’s sake.
“A dark side,” Martha said. “Like those people on your soap opera. Nice on one side, yet not so nice on the other. I guess alcohol can do that to a person.”
“I guess. So Nancy married your charming, handsome alcoholic older brother. And then what?”
“Older
half
brother.” Martha made a move toward the door. The bathroom was just across the hall and as good a place as any to hide from her daughter’s questions. “They didn’t live happily ever after,” she said.
“What happened?”
“The usual things that happen when a husband spends more time in bars than at home. Kate, I’d like to get dressed for bed now.”
“Oh.” But she held on to the yearbook. “Do you mind if I look through this?”
“Of course not, but it smells,” she pointed out. “You should air it out for a few days.”
“I’ll take it to show Emily tomorrow. It might take her mind off being ten months’ pregnant.” She kissed her mother good-night before leaving the room. “See you in the morning.”
“Good night, Kate,” Martha said, wishing Gert had never started this book-writing business. What was past should stay in the past.
And some secrets should stay buried. For everyone’s sake.
“W
E SHOULD BE LOOKING
at our own yearbooks if we really want to laugh,” Emily said. She lay stretched out on her living room couch while Kate served her tea and graham crackers. She set the 1955 yearbook on the table and reached for the crackers. “This is the only thing I can eat lately,” she confessed, hiding the box under the couch. “If the kids find them, they’ll be finished in five minutes.”
“I think I can wait a few more years before looking at our pictures in the yearbook,” Kate said, moving her chair closer. “I didn’t really keep in touch with anyone but you and George. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m sorry about lunch, though. I was looking forward to—Elly, honey, don’t put that in your mouth.”
Kate reached over and pried a sandal from the three-year-old’s chubby fingers. “Elly, come sit with Auntie Kate?” She lifted the little girl onto her lap and gave her a hug before replacing the sandal on her fat bare foot.
“Mommy’s gonna have a baby,” the girl stated.
“Yes, she sure is.” Kate thought Emily looked awfully pale and uncomfortable. “What can I do to help you, Em?”
“Pull the baby out with your bare hands.”
“Why don’t I take the kids out to the ranch for a while instead?”
“Masochist,” Emily muttered, but she looked relieved. “You mean I could have a nap?”
“Sure. What are single friends for?”
“What about Gert? She might not want three little kids around.” Emily struggled to a sitting position.
“Four kids, counting Dustin’s son.”
“How old is he?”
“Eight or nine, I guess. Maybe he and John could play trucks or something. I think there’s a mud puddle behind the barn.”
“If I have this baby while you’re gone, you’ll have to keep the kids for three days,” Emily warned. “My mother-in-law may decide she could use a break, too.”
“Martha will know where to find her. Stay
where you are,” Kate said. “The kids and I will be fine.”
“They have to wear seat belts in the car, and Elly has to sit in a booster seat.”
“No problem,” she promised, scooping the toddler into her arms as she stood. “They’ll have a ball and I’ll bring ’em home dirty so you don’t feel too guilty about my baby-sitting.”
“Guilty?” Emily chuckled, then winced as she tried to get comfortable. “Not a chance. Once in a while you career gals need a dose of how the other half lives.”
The next adult she saw turned out to be Dustin, who came around the ranch house as she stepped out of the car. Danny was next to him, a small shadow of his father whose mouth fell open when he saw a carload of children.
“You kidnapped the Bennett kids,” Dustin said. “
Now
what are you going to do with them?”
Kate unbuckled Elly’s car seat and lifted her out of the car. “I’m going to show them horses and cows and anything else you have around here. Emily needed a nap.”
He looked a little stunned as Jennie and John tumbled out of the car and grinned at Danny.
“Hi,” John said, his face split into a wide grin. He was an outgoing child, like his father. “I know you.”
“Danny,” he said, leaving his father’s side as
John reached back into the car and retrieved a couple of Tonka bulldozers.
“I told John that you liked trucks,” Kate said, hoping Danny would take over and show off his play area.
“Yep.” But Danny didn’t budge. Kate exchanged an amused look with Dustin, who looked almost as surprised as his son that they had company.
“Come on, boys,” Dustin said. “I’ll show you the ranch.”
“What about us?” Jennie took her little sister’s hand. “Can we see, too?”
“Sure,” the cowboy said, moving closer. “We can all go together.”
Well, this was different, Kate mused. He was actually being nice. She didn’t know why she was surprised, since he had been kind when she’d been in love with him. Kind, gentle and very, very sexy.
Kate sighed and wondered if she should start dating that lighting technician the show had just hired. Maybe she needed to get out more, spend less time working. The problem was obvious, though. She’d never seen anyone like Dustin Jones in New York.
He knew the ranch inside and out—knew enough to understand where and how to make changes, and what to put on hold. He’d taken a couple of the older outbuildings down, he told her,
before they blew down in the next bad storm and caused injury to people or animals. He was painting the barn because Gert said a well-kept barn made a ranch look prosperous. The Bennett children had visited ranches before, of course, but horses and cows were a pretty good show no matter how many times they’d been seen before.
“This is so cool,” John said, when they reached Danny’s digging hole. He eyed the large area of dirt tracks and drying mud. “What are you making?”
“A lake. And a river. And a fort.”
“I brought my dozers,” the younger boy said, dropping them in the dirt. “Can I play?”
“Yeah.” Danny smiled, still shy but recognizing a kindred spirit. “Sure.” He looked over at Dustin. “We’ll stay here.”
“Nowhere else, right?”
The boy nodded, and Dustin turned to John. “It’s very important, John, when you’re on a ranch, to stay where you say you’re going to stay.” He pointed to the bunkhouse. “That’s where Danny and I live, so you boys can go in there if you want.” And then he turned and showed John the main house. “Mrs. Knepper—Kate’s grandmother—lives there and there’s a path to her kitchen door.”
“That’s where I’ll be,” Kate interjected, “with your sisters.”
“I know her,” Jennie said. “She’s the oldest lady in town.”
“That’s right.”
“Nowhere else,” Dustin said. “The barn and the outbuildings and the corrals are off-limits unless I’m there with you.” He smiled down at the younger boy. “Your mom would be real mad at me if anything happened to you and I don’t want her yellin’ at me, okay?”
John laughed. “Okay.”
Dustin turned back to the girls. “Do you want to see the new calves?”
And that was that, Kate realized. The boys stayed in their construction zone while Dustin led the girls past several small barns toward a fence line that held his new stock. He showed them the calves and let them name the newest one. There was a breeze, though it was getting near the hottest part of the day.
“I’d better get the girls inside to see Gran. She’ll be wondering where I am.”
“I think she saw you,” he said. “She doesn’t miss much.”
“We’ll go get lemonade and birthday cake,” Kate told the girls. But she looked up at Dustin. “Are you going to join us?”
“I have work to do.” But he held her gaze and for one odd and crazy moment she thought he was going to bend down and kiss her. She knew he
wanted to and she wondered if she would protest if and when he did it.
Of course not. She felt the familiar flutters in the pit of her stomach when he looked at her like that, as if he wished they were alone and horizontal. She’d seen that look before. And when she took the girls’ hands in hers and walked them to see Gran, she wondered if she’d had a similar yearning expression on her own face.
D
USTIN CHECKED ON
the boys, then went into the barn to work on the tractor. He’d told Gert he was sure he could get it started again. He was pretty damn good at fixing machinery, knew grasslands from years of studying and reading, and could train a horse to do just about anything a man required it to do. But when it came to women—when it came to
this
woman—he was so damn frustrated that he might as well make it easy on himself and just ride off into the sunset…alone.
Kate McIntosh was driving him crazy and she’d only been around for, what? A couple of days? Danny talked about how pretty and nice she was, Gert rattled on with “Kate said” this and “Kate did” that. The woman was about as useless as teats on a bull, with her fancy little computer and designer clothes and big eyes looking around the ranch as if she would know how to do it better.