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Authors: Kristine Rolofson

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BOOK: Blame It On Texas
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“Danny can go to the library with me and help me carry the books,” Gert said. “You must have errands of your own to do without dragging an old lady around with you.”

“I’m worried about the heat, Gert. You want to get a cold drink at the café first?”

“I wouldn’t mind. The boy and I might have one of those chocolate milk shakes.”

Danny got a kick out of that idea. “Oh, boy,” he said, leaning forward again. “I never had one of those before.”

“Well, my goodness.” Gert was clearly speechless. She frowned at Dustin. “Does he have one of them milk allergies or something?”

“Not that I know of.” He didn’t know much, that was certain.

“What’s that?” the boy asked.

“It means you get sick when you drink milk or eat ice cream, things like that,” Dustin explained, hoping he was right. No one had warned him that becoming a father meant you were supposed to be right about everything.

“I’m okay,” Danny insisted. “Grandma Gert and me’ve been drinking milk all week.”

“We sure have,” the old woman agreed. “So I guess a chocolate milk shake will go down real good—with some French fries and maybe a hamburger, too.”

“Wow,” the child whispered under his breath. Dustin winced, wondering what in hell Lisa had done to this kid besides the crap he already knew about. Too thin and too quiet, Danny still had that scared look in his eyes, like someone was going to yell at him or worse. Dustin felt sick to his stomach and his hands clenched the steering wheel.

Gert gave him a sharp look. “You’d rather be back at the ranch working, wouldn’t you?”

“Well, ma’am, there’s a lot that needs doing.” Not that any of it would matter if Gert decided she’d lived out there for too long. He could always go back to the Dead Horse and work for Bobby Calhoun, but what would he do with the boy? Growing up in a bunkhouse was no place for a kid, and it was long past time to get started on making some kind of home for the child. And for himself.

“I thought maybe I should be running more cattle.”

“You’ve got the grass,” he agreed.

“Well, see to it, Dustin. Maybe we’ll try to make some money this year.”

He nodded. “Yes, ma’am. We sure could, though it might take me more than a year. I’ve come up with a plan for the cattle and the grass but it’s not short-term.”

“A plan is good,” Gert agreed. “Making some changes is good, too. You grew up around here, didn’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am. Outside of Marysville.”

“But you know my granddaughter, Kate.”

“Yes.” Intimately.

Unfortunately.

K
ATE WAS LATE.
And there would be hell to pay, along with the possibility of missing seeing her
grandmother blow out the candles on her birthday cake. Kate could do without the crowds and the fruit punch and the photographer from the
Beauville Times,
but she hated to disappoint her mother and grandmother, especially when they looked forward to her visits so much. And she looked forward to the peace and quiet of her hometown.

She hurried through the airport toward the car rental booths. Already hot and uncomfortable, she was ready for the arctic temperatures of her rental car. She’d brought her suitcase to the office, just in case, but there hadn’t been time to change into something less businesslike than a black suit and shell-pink camisole. It had been another hellish week on
Loves of Our Lives,
which made getting home even more difficult.

Everyone in town would be at the party. The grange hall would be filled. She wondered for the hundredth time if Dustin would be present or back at the ranch taking care of things there. Odd that Dustin Jones would end up on the Lazy K, along with his son, who must be eight now. Seeing Dustin wouldn’t bother her, she decided, signing the papers to rent the biggest, fastest Lincoln available. She would be polite, of course. She scooped up the keys and the directions to the Alamo lot and hurried toward the wide doors that fronted the sidewalk. She would pretend that nothing had ever happened between them, that he hadn’t broken her
heart and made her feel like the biggest fool in Texas.

“T
HERE SHE IS,
” Gert declared, pointing to the door. “You can rest easy now, Martha. Our girl is home.”

“Thank goodness.” She hadn’t realized she’d been so tense and worried, but she worried when she knew Kate was flying. She always listened to the hourly news reports on the radio just to make sure there hadn’t been a plane crash, even though she knew Kate would call her when she was safe in her apartment or hotel room. There was always that span of time when she didn’t know if Kate was safe, that span of time when she prayed a lot. Maybe that was the trouble with having only one child. You couldn’t spread the worry around. “I wonder what happened.”

Gert shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, Martha, as long as the child gets here safe and sound.”

“She’s not a child,” she said, watching her beautiful daughter make her way toward them. Her hair was streaked gold and fell in fashionably tousled lengths to her shoulders, her elegant black pantsuit made her look like a movie star, or like those women in the magazines with perfect lipstick and jewelry and fingernails. “She’s too thin.”

“You always say that.”

“It’s always true. She works too hard.”

“We’ll fatten her up,” Gert promised. “I made cinnamon rolls this morning.”

Martha frowned at her mother. “In this heat?”

“I got up early. Couldn’t sleep.”

“Too much excitement,” Martha declared, leaning down to make sure her mother didn’t look too tired. No, Gert looked pleased, a woman who had reached the age of ninety and lived to tell about it. The blue-flowered dress with the pearl necklace looked good on her and the pink lipstick had been a nice touch. Too bad her mother wouldn’t agree to getting her hair done yesterday.

“Go rescue her,” the older woman said. “Joey will talk her ear off.”

“He always liked her. I don’t know why she didn’t give him a chance. Now he built that nice house south of here and—”

“The feeling wasn’t mutual,” Gert said, giving Martha a little push. “I’d do it myself but it’ll take me too long to get out of this chair. This crowd’s got me blocked in.”

“All right,” Martha said, needing little encouragement to greet her child. “Joey doesn’t look as if he’s making much progress.”

“Ha,” Gert sniffed. “It’ll take a stronger man than—oh, hi, Esther. Thank you for coming.”

Martha left her mother talking to one of her longtime friends from church and, careful not to get any punch spilled on her as she walked through
the crowd of Beauville residents, went to her daughter.

“Mom!” Kate waved and said something to Joey, probably promising to stop by his store this week. As if Kate wouldn’t prefer to buy her fancy jewelry in New York.

“Kate, I’m so glad you’re finally here. I was so worried,” she said, giving her daughter a quick hug. “You’ve lost more weight.”

“You always say that,” she said, sounding exactly like her grandmother.

“Well, it’s true.”

“I’m sorry I’m late. We had a problem with the show and I had to fix it before I could leave, and then my flight out of Kennedy was delayed two hours because of rain and—”

“They work you too hard,” Martha said, leading her toward Gert, who was presently surrounded by well-wishers and unable to be seen through the crowd. “You need this vacation.”

“I can’t wait,” she said. “I’m so glad to be home and—”

“Martha? You look terrific, as always.” She turned to see Carl beaming at her. Not a tall man like her Ian, Carl was at eye-level. It was somehow comforting, not to have to look up to see into a man’s eyes.

“Thank you,” she said, trying not to sound flustered. “You know my daughter, don’t you?”

He shook Kate’s hand. “Of course. Kate. Your mother tells me all about your TV show and your life in the big city.”

“Oh?” Her eyebrows rose, but Kate was as polite as she always was. Not many people could tell what Kate was thinking behind those calm hazel eyes. “I’ve heard about your plans for the drive-in, too.”

“Not plans anymore, Kate.
Reality.
We’ve poured the foundation.” Carl moved closer to Martha, which thrilled her more than a little, though she didn’t want Kate to get the wrong idea.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Kate said, “I need to wish my grandmother a happy birthday.”

“You just arrived?” Carl asked, standing so close to Martha that their arms touched.

“Yes.” Kate gave her mother a questioning look. “Are you coming, Mother?”

“Of course. We’ll see you later, Carl,” she said, patting his arm just a little bit before she followed her daughter to see Gert.

“Welcome home,” he called after them.

Kate paused. “Mother, is that man—”

“Here, honey,” Martha interrupted, not about to discuss her personal life in a hall filled with everyone in town. And Kate used “Mother” when she had something serious to discuss, another reason to hurry her along. She nudged her daughter
through the crowd of senior citizens that surrounded Gert.

“Grandma,” Kate said, smiling down at her grandmother, whose face lit up with matching happiness.

“Well, well, come give me a hug,” Gert said, struggling to rise out of her chair. Several people hurried to help her, so for a moment there was some confusion until Kate was in her grandmother’s arms and embracing her. Martha blinked back tears. It was so good to have her daughter home again. If anyone could talk sense into Gert, it would be Kate. After all, she was the smartest person in the family, the most successful and the one with all the answers. If Kate said, “It’s time to move to town,” then that’s what Gert would do. She and Martha could have side-by-side suites at the Good Night complex.

“Did I miss the birthday cake?” Kate asked.

“You think I’d blow out ninety candles without my favorite granddaughter here to help me?” She motioned to Martha. “What do you think? Can we do it now?”

“I’ll get it started, but it’s going to take a few minutes to light.”

Kate moved toward her. “I’ll help.”

“No.” Martha shooed her away. “See if you can find Jake. I saw him a little while ago, but his wife looks like she’s going to have that baby any
time now, so I imagine she’s sitting down.” Martha scanned the room, then pointed to the west corner of the building. “I see him.” She tried to catch his attention, but her nephew, deep in conversation with a group of men, didn’t see her wave. Well, Kate would take care of it. The cousins—half-cousins, actually—always seemed glad to see each other, and Gert’s other grandchild needed to be in on the birthday cake presentation.

Martha hurried toward the kitchen, picking up volunteers along the way, along with compliments about Kate’s appearance. Her girl had done well. And gotten what she’d wanted. Martha missed her, but that was the way life was. Children grew up and moved away, and mothers made their own lives.

Their
new
lives.

CHAPTER THREE

S
HE WAS HOME.
Turning cartwheels in the middle of the grange wasn’t an option, though tempting. Her black pantsuit, with its fashionable amount of spandex fabric, could withstand the exercise but she didn’t know if her mother’s heart would tolerate the shock. As a child, she’d been notorious for turning cartwheels any time that joy overtook her and she could no longer keep all the happiness inside. As an adult, she had to be content with smiling. She was home, in Beauville, where everything was safe and familiar. Including her handsome cousin who turned, waved and headed over to meet her in the middle of the room.

“What are you smiling about?” Jake put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her against his side. “Are you that glad to be back home?”

“Of course. And I’m happy to see you,” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek. “I hear you’re going to be a father very, very soon.”

“Any day now.” He beamed and glanced back
at his wife, who saw Kate and waved. Elizabeth seemed to glow, though she looked about to burst.

“It’s too hot in here, Jake. Take her home.”

“Soon,” he said. “Neither one of us wanted to miss seeing a cake with ninety candles on it. I guess we’re doing it now?”

“I came to get you, for the pictures.”

“Sure, but I have to get Beth. I don’t dare let her out of shouting range these days.”

Kate followed him, wishing she knew Elizabeth better. They’d married last summer, but Kate hadn’t met her until Christmas, and even then there hadn’t been much time to really get to know each other. All Kate knew about her cousin’s wife was that she was from Rhode Island, she had no family of her own except a grown niece, and had offered Kate the use of her east coast beach house anytime she wanted to use it.

“You know Dusty Jones, don’t you?” Jake asked, as a lean dark-haired man stood on the other side of Elizabeth and helped Jake get her to her feet.

“Yes,” Kate said, intending to glance at him only briefly. He was taller than she remembered, though the wide shoulders and lean build were the same. She avoided meeting his gaze, sensing he wasn’t any more pleased to see her than she was to see him. She would have thought that nine years would have made them both immune to bad memories,
but maybe there were some things that just stuck, no matter how much time had passed.

“Hello, Kate,” Dustin said, but he looked at the pregnant woman beside him. “There, Elizabeth. I guess we got you on your feet okay.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have sat down,” the woman chuckled. She reached for Kate’s hand. “Kate. It’s so good to see you again.”

“And I’m glad to see you,” Kate said, “but are you sure you should be in the middle of all of this right now?” Elizabeth looked as if she was expecting triplets, and she looked flushed. Kate made a mental note to turn up the air-conditioning.

“Don’t worry.” Elizabeth smiled and patted her enormous belly. She wore a mint green sundress and, despite her rosy cheeks and damp bangs, looked like a model for elegance during pregnancy. “I’ve promised Jake I’d let him know when the first twinge begins. I didn’t want to have to leave before Gert saw her cake, though, but so far so good. Oh, I almost forgot,” she added. “Emily wasn’t feeling well this morning and thought she’d better skip the party. She asked me to tell you she would call you tomorrow.”

BOOK: Blame It On Texas
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