A Family Kind of Wedding (10 page)

“But aren't you going crazy, what with Bliss's wedding plans and all?”

“Bliss has it all handled, believe me.” Brynnie chuckled and coughed a bit. “Never been married and she's carrying this off like a pro. As many times as I walked down the aisle, I was rattled each time, let me tell you. Now, is Josh all right?”

Katie slid her son a glance. “I think so. His pride might be more bruised than his ankle.” Josh, who was reaching for his crutches, didn't seem to hear her comment.

“Tell him Grandma's coming over, and I'll take him on in Hearts or Pitch or whatever card game he wants.”

“I will,” Katie promised.

“Good. Now—what?” she asked, obviously turning away from the phone as her voice faded for a few seconds. “Oh, Katie, wait a minute, your father wants to talk to you.”

Katie was still uncomfortable hearing John Cawthorne referred to so casually as her father. As much as she loved her mother, she couldn't forget that Brynnie had kept the truth from her until this past year, that Brynnie let her live a lie, even given her another man's surname.

“Katie?” John Cawthorne's voice blasted over the phone. “What's this I hear about your car givin' up the ghost?”

She went through the whole story again while Josh finished his breakfast, then hobbled into the living room. As she was ending her tale, John interrupted, “We've got lots of rigs out here. If you can drive a clutch, you can have the Jeep. It's just sitting in the garage collecting dust.”

She didn't want John Cawthorne's or anyone else's charity. “I just need to borrow something for a couple of days.”

“Fine, fine, but there's no sense putting yourself out much. Brynnie'll drive the Jeep into town, visit with Josh and I'll come pick her up later. Now, what's this about Josh hurtin' himself playin' soccer? You know, I told you that game was more dangerous than football. No pads. No protection.”

She talked with him for a few minutes, heard for the dozenth time about the pros of football, which was played at the same time of the year as soccer, and how a fine, “strappin'” boy like Josh should get into a decent sport. She hung up, wondering if borrowing the car was worth hearing all the advice. As much as she disliked Hal Kinkaid—a surly, quiet man who seemed to forever carry a chip on his shoulder—at least he didn't butt into her life. In fact, he'd never shown much interest in her at all.

Growing up, Katie had felt neglected and had knocked herself out trying to get Hal's attention. She'd been flamboyant in high school, part of the “wild crowd” who drank and smoked, though she'd drawn the line at drugs. She'd flirted outrageously, gained an ill-gotten reputation and, of course, lost her virginity to Dave. At the thought of her one and only lover, she felt a pang of grief. In retrospect, getting pregnant was the best thing that had happened to her. She'd settled down, suffered the indignities and slurs about being an unwed mother when it wasn't quite as fashionable as it was today, but given birth to the greatest kid in the world. She glanced into the living room where Josh was flopped on the couch with his ankle propped on the overstuffed arm. Nope, she wouldn't have changed anything about her life. It was just too darned good. Even if she did have to put up with John Cawthorne's opinions on every subject in the world.

When her mother came over to drop off the car, Katie hoped to speak to her in private, tell her about Dave. All in all, Brynnie was the only person in whom Katie could confide.

And what about Luke? Are you going to tell your mother that for the first time since Dave Sorenson, you
enjoyed kissing a man, even fleetingly wondered what it would be like to make love to him?

She swallowed hard at the thought. Making love to any man was out of the question right now. She had too much to do to get involved with anyone. Even if she had the time, Luke Gates was the last man in the world she could dare trust.

And yet…she couldn't help fantasizing about him a little. After all, what would it hurt? It wasn't as if she would ever get the chance to make love to him.

“Thank God,” she whispered and realized that a sheen of perspiration had broken out all over her body.

* * *

“Oh, honey, I hope you're not getting yourself into the kind of trouble you can't get out of.” Worry pinched the corners of Brynnie Cawthorne's mouth as they walked through the overgrown vegetable garden at the side of Katie's house.

“I'll be fine.”

“But a letter from Isaac Wells?” Brynnie bent over and picked a plump cherry tomato from a scraggly vine.

“Or someone who wants me to think he's Isaac.” Katie lifted her hair off her neck as the sun warmed her crown. “I just wanted you to know what was going on before the story was printed in the paper. I took a copy of the note for me and one for Jarrod, then I'll drop off the original at the police station.”

“I don't like the sound of this.”

“I know, Mom, but this could be my big chance.”

“Just be careful, okay? You're a mother.” Brynnie slid the sunglasses that held her hair away from her face on to her nose.

“I know, I know, and there's something else I wanted to talk to you about.” Katie's enthusiasm drained.

Brynnie took a bite from the tiny tomato. “Shoot.”

“Luke Gates knows the Sorensons. He said…” Her throat tightened, and she looked away. “He said that Dave is dead.”

Brynnie froze. “But he's only about thirty.”

“I know, I know.” Katie shook her head and blinked back tears. “I didn't get a chance to ask what happened, but I will.” She sniffed and looked away from her mother. “I can't believe it. I always thought there would be time to talk to Josh, to tell him about his dad, have them meet.” Her voice cracked. “Oh, Mom, I really blew this one.”

“Are you sure? This could be a mistake.” Brynnie threw an arm around her daughter. “Maybe Luke got his facts wrong.”

Katie sighed and fought tears. “I doubt it, Mom. Luke Gates doesn't strike me as the kind of man to spread idle gossip. I think…oh, God, I think Dave's gone.” She took in a long, deep breath. “And someway I've got to tell my son.”

“Hold on a second, will ya? Don't rush into anything. This could all be a mistake.”

“I doubt it,” Katie said. “But I thought I'd ask Jarrod to look into it for me, find out what happened and then…” She shuddered inwardly. “And then I'll talk to Josh.”

* * *

“This won't be cheap,” Bliss Cawthorne said as she rolled out the blueprints she'd drawn for Luke on a long low table in her small office. “But I think it incorporates everything you wanted in the most cost-efficient manner.”

Luke stared down at the drawings and nodded, but he had trouble concentrating. Ever since being with Katie the night before, he'd thought of little else than the fact that he'd impulsively kissed a woman for the first time in years. He prided himself in always being in control, in taking charge of the situation, in avoiding the pitfalls of getting involved with any woman.

Worse yet, Katie just might be the mother of Dave Sorenson's kid. If, indeed there was a child at all.

“So…I enclosed the area between the two existing buildings for the dining hall and added an exterior as well as an interior stairway.” From the old blueprints and a quick look at the ranch house, Bliss had drawn a new set of plans according to his specifications and the latest building codes. And the blueprints looked good.

Bliss Cawthorne, Katie's other half sister, was an interesting woman. Sophisticated and bright, with blond hair and blue eyes, she spoke and held herself well. Yet there was an earthiness to her, a down-home charm that was appealing.

Manicured nails slid across the pages as she explained how she'd created a large kitchen within a small amount of space, enclosed an area between the two buildings that would become an oversize dining room and dance hall when the tables where pushed aside, then incorporated three more bedrooms and accompanying baths on a second level. It would cost him every dime he owned. A big gamble. But then he'd been a gambler all his life.

“Looks good,” he admitted. Finally, a place of his own.

“I think it'll work.”

“I appreciate you doing this so fast.” He'd only made the request ten days ago, and even though Bliss was planning her wedding, she'd found the time, energy and imagination to draw up exactly what he had in mind.

“Had to get it done before the big day.” She smiled, showing off perfect white teeth that he suspected had once been braced. “It's this weekend.”

“So I've heard,” he replied. “The talk of the town.”

“Bittersweet doesn't have much to gossip about.” She rolled the plans into tubes and snapped them closed with rubber bands. “Well, except for my family. I guess we keep the rumor mill in business.” She blushed a little as she slapped the plans into his open palm. “If you'd like to come, it's this Sunday at the church in the square and we're having a reception afterward at the Reed Hotel just out of town.” She grinned up at him and seemed to sense his unease. “I know that this is sudden, but you are my client, and Mason and I would love it if you'd attend.”

No way, José.
“Thanks, but I don't think I'll make it.” He knew the invitation was just because she felt obligated to hand it out. Besides, he wasn't interested.

“If you change your mind, the wedding's at seven, and the reception will probably last all night.”

A bell over the door to the office tinkled, and Luke looked up to see Katie, dressed in a white-and-blue sundress, dash inside. “Bliss, I wondered—Oh.” For a moment the red-haired locomotive stopped dead in her tracks. “Hi,” she managed, recovering herself as she spied Luke, and a rosy color invaded her cheeks as it had her half sister's a heartbeat earlier. Her eyes held his, and in a second he remembered the kiss—the damned touching of lips that had kept him awake all last night. He'd thought of her, fantasized about her, then dreamed of making love to her. He'd woken up on fire and had taken the longest cold shower of his life.

“Get the car fixed?” he asked, and she shook her head, fiery red curls brushing her nape in a movement he found ludicrously sensual.

“Nope. You were right, it's dead.” She hooked her thumb to the window overlooking the parking lot. “I'm borrowing one of John's rigs.”

“So you two know each other?” Bliss asked thoughtfully.

“Luke helped me out yesterday,” Katie explained, giving her half sister the blow-by-blow of her evening.

Bliss's forehead had wrinkled as Katie finished. “But Josh is okay—the ankle is all right?”

“He'll be fine. For the moment he's enjoying being king of the roost.”

“Good, good.” Folding her arms across her chest, Bliss asked, “Okay, so now that I know Josh will survive and the car won't, why don't you tell me what you think you were doing poking around Isaac Wells's place? I thought it was off-limits to everybody but the police.”

Katie lifted a shoulder. “I know, but I was hoping to find something—some sort of clue, I guess, to what happened to him.”

“I thought that was the sheriff's department's job.”

“Yeah, but I was…well, hoping to look at it with different eyes—a woman's eyes, a reporter's eyes—that I might see something everyone else had missed.” She was excited now, talking rapidly, and it gave Luke some insight into how much she loved her job. Katie Kinkaid, ace reporter.

“Isaac's been gone for months,” Bliss reminded.

“I know, I know, but—” Katie hesitated, then looked as if she'd decided that confiding in her sister and Luke would be all right. Her cheeks flushed, and a smile pulled at the corners of her full mouth. “I want the story. Period. I'm tired of writing about bridge-club meetings and covering the school-board agenda.”

“You want something with some mystery to it. Some adventure.” Bliss nodded, as if she'd heard it all before.

“At least.” Katie looked away, and Luke noticed the column of her throat, the way it disappeared into the tangle of bones between her shoulders. She was sexy as hell and didn't seem to know it.

He wondered about the men in her life, then quickly shoved that wayward thought aside. What did it matter whom she dated, whom she kissed, who had experienced the rush of making love to her? His jaw tightened, and he fought a ridiculous envy of those unnamed men. All that he cared about was whether or not Dave Sorenson had fathered her child over a decade ago.

“Well, I'd better be shovin' off,” he said. “You'll bill me, right?”

“You can count on it.”

“Bliss did some work for you?” Katie asked, as if eager to know what he was doing in her half sister's office. Luke noticed her eyelids crinkle at the corners as if she was trying to put two and two together.

No way out of it now. “Bliss drew up some plans for me for the ranch house. I'm going to expand it.”

“Oh.”

“So you already know that he owns the Sorenson place,” Bliss added, and Katie again felt that dull ache in her heart, the one that reminded her Dave was dead.

“I heard.”

“And I heard that you might be moving into Tiffany's place,” Bliss said.

Luke froze. Katie was going to live next door to him?

“I'm thinking about it.”

“That's what Tiffany said when I bumped into her this morning.”

“I've already talked to Josh, and he's game, so I guess I'll rent my place and move in whenever Tiffany and J.D. settle into the farm that they're turning into a winery. I was on my way next door to the insurance office to give Tiffany the news, but I wanted to stop by here and see how the wedding plans are going.”

“Hectic,” Bliss replied. “This is my last day of work—” she pointed a long finger at Luke's blueprints and skewered him with her blue gaze “—so if you want any changes, they'll have to wait for a couple of weeks until I get back.”