Travis wasn't sure what that had to do with Cowboy Bob or the desert in
El Paso, but he had seen his mom get that way before, saying weird
things when she was trying to make up for some kind of mistake.
"Jeez," Travis said, "Kate looks so pathetic and sad and all, that it's
hard not to feel sorry for her up on that mangy-looking horse."
Jesse stood and took their plates. "Katie, Katie," he mused, then
chuckled as he put the plates in the dishwasher. When he was done, he
headed for the back door. Then suddenly he stopped. After a long second
and what sounded like a groan, he turned back.
"I guess we need to think about what you are going to do today. I'll
call Suzanne."
"Like I said, I don't need anyone to watch me."
"And like I said, I can't leave you here by yourself."
"I could go with you!"
"I'm going to the golf course."
"Even better."
His dad tensed. "Sorry, but I've got to get a couple hours of practice
in before the morning's over."
Travis sighed. Jesse hung his head.
"Maybe we could do something together later," Jesse offered.
The young boy perked up. "Wow! Great! You and me can do some kind of
real father-son thing!"
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Â
To: Katherine Bloom
     Chloe Sinclair
From: Julia Boudreaux @
ktextv.com>
Subject: Seeing things
Kate, tell
me I was seeing things.
Chloe, have I lost my mind or was Kate really wearing ankle weights
with Cowboy Bob?
Julia
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Â
To: Julia Boudreaux
     Katherine Bloom
From: Chloe Sinclair
Subject: Ankle weights
I believe
you're correct, Julia.
Though I don't think viewers had any idea what they were.
I blame you, of course, J, since you know how Kate doesn't do anything
halfway.
Chloe
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Â
To: Chloe Sinclair
     Julia Boudreaux
From: Katherine Bloom
Subject: Torso
Argh!!!!
Chloe, you said it was
going to be a torso-only shot!!! The horse was supposed to be
decoration. But I know, I know, this isn't anybody's fault but my own.
Though with all this effort
to make myself over into the new, improved Kate, I swear I'm just
making things worse! Sorry!
Katherine C. Bloom
News Anchor, KTEX TV West Texas
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Â
To: Katherine Bloom
     Chloe Sinclair
From: Julia Boudreaux @
ktextv.com>
Subject: re: Torso
Actually I
think it was kind of
cute. Getting caught wearing ankle weights makes you very real.
So don't worry about it.
xo, j
p.s. I saw
Parker yesterday. All I
can say is that if you don't want him, then I wish you'd cut
him loose. He really is divine.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Â
To: Julia Boudreaux
    Chloe Sinclair
From: Katherine Bloom
Subject: Parker
I'm having
lunch with him today.
Kate
Six
She needed a plan. Some brilliant idea for a show segment that would
wow the viewing audience. But what?
Something without any sort of man involvedânaked or otherwise.
Something that she actually enjoyed.
Something that would make her forget the fact that she had lost her
mind and worn ankle weights on
live television.
What had she been thinking?
Kate groaned. She hadn't been thinking. Who in their right mind wore
ankle weights anywhere besides
the privacy of their own home or at a gym?
She walked into the Hacienda restaurant at 1:00 on the nose. She had
changed into a white cotton
blouse and straight skirt to battle the heat.
"Kate." Parker stood up from the table when she approached, his warm
smile instantly putting her at ease.
"I was surprised when you called," he added, holding her chair.
Standing so close, she was reminded of how tall he was, how solid and
handsome. He wore a light blue pinstriped shirt with a burgundy tie. As
the oldest son of the Newland Hammond family, he had taken over the
running of Hammond Industries when his father had retired three years
ago. He was one of El Paso's most sought after bachelors. But he had
made it clear his only interest was her.
"I wanted to see you," she said.
He tilted his head slightly and nodded. "I'm glad."
After they ordered, he leaned back and looked at her. "You look great,
as usual."
She almost told him that he did, too, because he did. Sun beat in
through one of the hundred-year-old windows, the Rio Grande only a
stone's throw away from this building that had once been a fort in the
1800s. The adobe and rustic wood reminded her of the rich mixture of
Texan and Hispanic cultures in this town she loved so much.
When Parker reached across and took her hand, after a moment of
surprise, she smiled with an amazed contentment when she realized that
this was real life. Quiet moments shared with people she cared about.
It was astounding how easy it was to talk to him. During a meal of
enchiladas and crisp tacos filled with shredded beef and lettuce, they
laughed and shared stories of growing up in El Paso. When he offered
her a bite of his chile relleno, she accepted, taking the morsel from
the fork that he held out to her. By
the end, over coffee and a dessert of flan, Kate had forgotten all
about Cowboy Bob.
Parker walked her to the car, took her keys, and opened the door. She
started to get in, then turned back to thank him. He was standing right
there.
The sun shone against his face, his green eyes bright like freshly mown
grass. And when he leaned forward, he kissed her. Soft and gentle,
pleasant and warm.
When he pulled back, his gaze met hers. "I'm glad you called."
"So am I."
Driving away, she knew that she really was glad. Parker was everything
Julia said. Divine, kind, and safe. No, not safe. Julia had never said
safe. But somehow that was the word that kept playing over and over
again in Kate's mind. Safe, unlike Jesse. Good, in contrast to Jesse's
bad boy life.
She returned to the office, got some work done, then headed home. She
parked in the shade cast by one of the old cottonwood trees in the
yard. The smell of honeysuckle and oleander blossoms mixed with the
high summer heat. When she got to the back door, she could see through
the screen into the kitchen. A slow, deep breath ran through her at the
sight of Jesse standing at the opened refrigerator, his forearm braced
against the top as he peered inside.
He stood in profile, the deep gold afternoon sunlight highlighting the
sharp planes of his face, the chiseled jaw, the nearly perfect
patrician nose. Finely carved muscles emerged from beneath the sleeve
of the golf shirt that hung loose from his shorts, his strong thighs
braced. She sensed a restlessness in his long limbs today, like he was
a caged animal ready to pounce.
There was nothing calm or safe about him.
The minute she pulled open the screen, he glanced over at her. His eyes
flashed with darkness.
"Hi, honey, I'm home," she said, trying for light and fun to cover how
disconcerted he made her feel.
He looked tired, every ounce of his bad boy ease gone.
She studied him. "Hard day at the office?" .
She didn't understand the intensity that flared on his face. His eyes
narrowed, then they opened as he took a breath, and like magic, the
storm was gone. A second later, his lips crooked in a smile.
"Me? Have a hard day?" He laughed, the sound deep and confident. "I
think you've forgotten who
you're talking to. The guy who doesn't have a care in the world."
She knew she hadn't imagined the darkness. "Jesse, are you sure there
isn't anything wrong?"
He closed the refrigerator door and leaned back against it. "Not a
thing. Though I'll let you make something up if it would make you feel
better."
"Funny. I would not feel better."
"Good. Now tell me about your day."
She studied him for one last second before she lifted her shoulder in a
semi-shrug. "My day was fine. Better than fine. In fact, it was great,
couldn't be better."
His grin ticked up even higher. "I can tell." He pushed away from the
refrigerator and walked over to
the pantry like he owned the place. "Your mom called."
The gears in her head shifted. "How do you know?" she asked, her mouth
dropping open in confusion.
He glanced back at her. "The phone rang. I answered."
"Just like that?"
"Are there new rules to answering the phone since I left Texas?" He
started rummaging around in the pantry.
Kate scowled. "You can't just. . . just. . . come back here and act
like everything is the same. It isn't
the same as it used to be. We aren't kids anymore."
"So you're saying I shouldn't have answered the phone?"
"Be serious."
"I am." He came out of the pantry with a screwdriver in his hand. "I
take it you don't want to hear her message."
A deep growl sounded in her chest as she set her purse down on the
counter. "Tell me, what did she say?"
"We talkedâ"
"About what?"
"This and that. You know she always liked me."
"Great. You get a gold star. Now what was her message?"
"The weather's beautiful in Wyoming this time of year."
Her shoulders came back. "That's all she said? And what are you doing
with the screwdriver?"
"I believe her exact words were, 'Tell my little Kate that there are
plenty of hot men in this cool climate.' Suzanne had mentioned Mary
Beth moved out west." He walked over to the back door. "The hinges
on the screen are loose. I'm going to tighten them before they pull out
all the way."
Kate gave an unladylike snort. "My guess is that my sister said
something along the lines that our mother had to leave Texas because
she ran out of marriageable men in the entire stateâwhich my mother has
just proved with her message." She glanced over at the hinges. "You
don't have to do that. You're a guest. I'll call a handyman."
"As long as I'm here, no need."
"Jesse Chapman." She couldn't help her smile. "Golfer extraordinaire
and good with tools. Who knew?"
"And don't you forget it." He chuckled deeply and reached up to the top
hinge, his stance slightly parted. His triceps flexed with each turn of
the screw. "Your mother asked me to pass the message along to Suzanne
as well. I got the feeling that Mary Beth didn't want to call Darling
Daughter Number One herself." He moved to the next screw. "They never
did see eye to eye, as I recall. Though I guess
there were a lot of people who didn't understand your mother."
Kate knew what he said was true, and deep down she agreed. But this was
her mother, and instantly
she felt defensive. "She has a creative spirit and she needs to be free
to create."
He dropped his arms and turned back. He surprised her when he reached
out and ran his finger down
one of her long curls, round and round, slowly, hypnotically. When he
stopped, he touched her, tilting
her chin until she met his gaze. Sensation raced through her, settling
low, flaring when his eyes drifted
to her mouth. The world around them seemed to disappear. She felt
disconnected from everything but this man, floating in a dream like
madness sought. Which was exactly what wanting Jesse Chapman
was. Madness.
"She doesn't deserve you, Katie, never has. Mary Beth's a flake. A
great flake, no question, but nonethelessâ"
"A flake."
"You got it."
"If you are so reprovingâ"
Abruptly, he dropped his hand. After a second, his teasing smile
resurfaced and he returned his attention to finishing off the hinge.
"You must have had a rough day. You've dragged out the big words.
Where's the dictionary?"
"Amusing, Mr. 4.0."
"3.8. I got a Bin Spanish."
"That's right," she teased. "Your attempt to date Senorita Gonzalez
didn't work out."
The last top screw didn't want to go in. His concentration focused as
he undid it, straightened it, then screwed it home.
"It didn't, did it?" she gasped with a half laugh.
"Let's just say that I probably deserved a C. I never was all that good
at conjugating verbs."
"No, you just like conjugating."
He glanced over his shoulder. "Did you just tell a joke?"
She might have growled.
He laughed softly. "I like it when you get all hot and bothered."
"I am not hot, and I am certainly not bothered."
"Sure you are." He secured the last screw on top, then squatted to do
the same to the bottom.
A horn sounded outside. Neither of them did anything about it until it
sounded again. Curious, Kate walked through the house and went to the
front door, peering out the window.
A car had pulled up in the drive, and Kate recognized Madge Lehman's
sedan. Kate opened the door.
"Hi, Kate!"
"Hi, Madge."
No one said another word, though Kate could tell her neighbor was
waiting expectantly for something.
"I came to pick up Lena."
Belatedly, Kate remembered Travis.
"Oh, well. . . just a second, Madge."
Kate turned around. Jesse was there.
"Travis already met someone in the neighborhood?" she asked.
"If so, I'm not aware of it. Plus, he's at Suzanne's."
They glanced to the side and saw an unfamiliar backpack sitting in the
foyer next to one they both recognized as belonging to Travis.
"Are you sure he's at Suzanne's?"
"I just got here right before you did." Jesse's brow furrowed.
"Oh, great. He must be here. In the house. Alone with little Lena,
unsupervised."
Deep down, she knew she was overreacting. But she wasn't a parent,
didn't have that ease mothers and fathers learned over long years of
adjusting to their kids' behavior. She was new at this, and there was a
real parent sitting outside thinking her child was here, safe, sound,
and no doubt supervised.
Jesse didn't look any happier about the situation than she felt.
They darted through the house, finding no sign of Travis. But when they
came to his bedroom, the door was shut, and they could hear the radio
playing.
Kate froze, panic flaring. "What do you think they're doing? He is your
son, after all. I wonder if sexual precociousness is genetic."
Jesse swore, then clicked open the door to find Travis and a girl about
his same age kneeling by the side of the bed.
"Are they praying?" Kate whispered.
"He better be praying," Jesse bit out.
"This one's really good," Lena said, tilting her head to get a better
view.
"Yeah, maybe." Travis flipped a page of not a Bible, but rather a
glossy magazine.
"But this one's better."
"Says who?" Lena demanded with a scoff.
"Says ... I don't know. It just is. Guys are much better golfers.
Everyone knows that."
Lena leaped up, planting her hands on her hips. "You're such a toad.
Guys are not better."
"Toad? You're calling me a toad?"
"What's going on here?" Jesse demanded, his tone accusing.
Not textbook-perfect parenting techniqueâeven Kate knew thatâbut it got
the kids' attention.
Travis and Lena whirled around.
Lena waved. "Hi, Miss Bloom!"
"Hi, Jesse!" Travis said. "You're home! Are we going to do a father-son
thing now?"
"What do you two think you're doing?" Jesse asked crossly.
The girl's smile evaporated. "Ah, maybe I should go," she stuttered.
"See ya later, Travis."
She bolted for the door and was out of the house before they could say
another word.
Kate, Jesse, and Travis stood staring at one another.
"You're supposed to be at Suzanne's," Jesse stated.
Travis shrugged. "I got bored. When she got on the phone, I went for a
walk. That's when I met Lena. She's really cool and she helped me come
up with a whole bunch of father-son stuff to do."
"There are ... are ... rules about this kind of thing," Jesse added,
grasping for what to say.
"Rules about looking at magazines? Talking to Lena? Or about father-son
sorts of stuff?" Travis asked. Then he got excited again and extended
one of the magazines.
"You should see the pictures in here. Look at this! You're right there!"
Kate peered closer, and indeed, it was a shiny, color, freeze-frame
photograph of Jesse doing a victory sign as a ball rolled straight for
the hole.
"Wow," she said.
"Isn't it cool?" An old edition of Golf World hung from Travis's
fingers as he went to the middle of the room. "I can do the same
thing." He lifted one knee and pulled his crooked arm down like a
semitruck driver honking a horn. "See! I'd make a great golfer. I bet
there's no chess guy who could do that."
"Chess?" Kate asked, confused. "Golf?"
Tension rippled through the older male as he took the magazine away.
"Doing victory dances is not
high on the list of good golf qualitiesâ"
"Not according to that Star Magazine article I read about you."
Jesse's lips thinned.
Kate shook her head, still confused. "What are you two talking about?"
"I've been reading about Jesse and golf. I know I'm supposed to be
figuring out something else I can do this summer besides golf. But golf
sure sounds fun, and I read that Jesse's been playing since he was
about my age." Travis smiled knowingly. "It also talked about him
having a way with girls. Kinda like
me, too," he said with a gloating
smile. "Lena's cute, huh?"
"Last I heard"âKate sliced a look at Jesseâ"sneaking girls into a boy's
bedroom wasn't considered
an extracurricular activity."