Return to Paradise

Return to Paradise By Barri Bryan

ISBN 1-891020-41-2

© copyright Billie and Herb Houston 1998 Cover art by Jenny Dixon New Concepts Publishing 4729 Humphreys Rd. Lake Park, GA 31636 www.newconceptspublishing.com

OTHER NCP TITLES BY BARRI BRYAN: A Love Like Mine

CHAPTER ONE

"So this is Paradise." Kate McClure gazed across the rolling, sparsely wooded countryside. "It's hot enough to be that other place." Lifting her hand, she shaded her eyes against the glare of the

sun."Who named this place?" Belle Sullivan laughed, causing the dimples in her cheeks to deepen. "Your Daddy did. He had just come home from dodging bullets, and sleeping in fox holes. It looked like paradise to him." "What did you think about this place, Mamma, the first time you saw it?" A pained expression slid across Belle's face. "It looked more like that other place to me, too. But Daddy loved it here, and I loved Daddy." She heaved a weary sigh. "Then Daddy left me, and I couldn't run a ranch by myself, so I took you, and moved to town." Kate sat on the grassy slope. "Daddy didn't leave you Mamma, he died. There's a difference." "Not much." Belle dropped down beside her daughter. "The feelings are the same. I felt just as deserted and betrayed when Daddy died as you did when Jim divorced you and married another woman. It took a long time for me to get over

Daddy." Kate nodded. "I know Mamma." "How would you know? You're not over Jim yet. Sometimes I wonder if you ever will be." Kate opened her mouth to protest. "Mamma, honestly," then snapped it shut. Her mother was telling the truth. She changed the subject. "Why didn't you sell this place, Mamma?" "I don't know. I could have used the money a hundred times over, but I never could let it go. As long as I had Paradise Ranch, I had a part of Daddy. The place wasn't a total loss. Marcus Sinclair, who owns the big spread next door, leased the land. What he paid me took care of the taxes." Belle lifted her arms, then let them fall to her sides. "So I kept my paradise." Kate's hand flew to her mother's arm, in a frightened gesture. "It's not leased to Mr. Sinclair now, is it?" "No. He didn't renew his lease this year. I don't

know why." "Maybe for once, fate was kind to us, Mamma. If we didn't have this place, I would be living with Michael and his new wife, and you would be in Cedar's Retirement Home." "I guess you know Michael thinks you're crazy and I'm senile, and we won't last thirty days out here." Kate's face hardened, causing her fine features to set in determined lines. "My son has a lot to learn about his mother, and his grandmother." "He has a point," Belle argued. "You have to admit it sounds a little crazy for a forty-six-year old woman and her sixty-five year old mamma to decide to become ranchers when neither of us knows anything at all about the cattle business." "Don't say that, Mamma." A thread of apprehension began to unravel inside Kate. Maybe this was a foolish venture. She pushed that thought from her mind. "You lived here with Daddy all those years ago. You must have learned

something." Frowning, she added, "I may get seasick. That grass billows like an ocean." "You'll get used to it. In time you may even learn to like it." Kate doubted that. "I'll be satisfied if I can learn to endure it. Because like it or not, Mamma, this is home for us now." Belle put her hand to her head. "Maybe you should take your helpless old mamma back to Cedar's and go live with Michael and his snooty new wife." "Stop it, Mamma. You're the least helpless person I know. Besides, this was your idea in the first place." "Stop feeling sorry for yourself. So your husband left you for some floozie, your son thinks you're too old to have a life, and your daughter could care less. Are you going to let a few little things like that get you down?" Kate stood up and brushed the dirt from her

backside. "I'm not feeling sorry for myself. And you're wrong about Suzie. She does care about me." "Sure she does," Belle agreed too swiftly. "That's why she refuses to speak to you. Stop finding excuses for the terrible way Suzie has behaved. She's a spoiled brat. Maybe that fancy college she goes to will teach her some things worth learning, like compassion and understanding." "Suzie's my daughter! She's just confused and immature. I won't let you talk about her that way." Irony crept into Belle's reply. "I know the feeling." "Oh, Mamma!" Kate began to walk toward the dilapidated old house that nestled at the foot of the slope. "Do you think the house is livable?" Belle fell in step with her daughter. "Let's have a look." An orange sun had climbed high overhead,

burning the sky a brassy blue. A complaining breeze sighed through the grass and underbrush. "Why did Daddy choose this place, Mamma? He used his GI Bill. He could have bought anywhere." "Your Daddy was stationed in San Antonio when he was in the army. He fell in love with this part of the world." "Why did he decide to be a rancher? Until he was drafted, he lived all his life in Chicago." "I think he saw too many John Wayne movies." "No, Mamma, really, why?" "Who can explain a dream?" Belle was almost running to stay up with her daughter. "Slow down, Kate." Kate slowed her pace. "Tell me about Daddy, and his dream." "I met Daddy at the USO in San Antonio. He

was the handsomest man I'd ever seen. You look like him, Kate, with that red hair, and those big blue eyes. We took one look at each other across a crowded room, and fell in love." Kate had heardthatstory, at least a hundred times."I want to know how Daddy knew so much about ranching." They were coming to the old house. "He didn't, at first. He read books, and talked to people who raised cattle. He joined a cattleman's association. This climate here was too hot for the English breeds of cattle, and those were the best ones for producing prime beef. Daddy began to cross breed. He wanted to give his herd the hybrid vigor it needed to adapt to this hot, dry climate without taking away from the quality of the meat." By now they were standing directly in front of the old frame house. Winded, Belle sat on a fallen log. "Do you think it's safe to go in there?" Kate hooked her thumbs in the back pockets of

her jeans. "It looks like your Mr. Sinclair has stored his hay in our house. Did he have permission to do that?" "I don't guess he thought he had to ask." Kate stepped onto the porch, and leaned against a post. "I don't think I like Mr. Sinclair." "You don't know Mr. Sinclair," came her mother's tart reply. "Don't go jumping to conclusions. When you live in a place as isolated as this, you need your neighbors." Belle stretched her legs out in front of her, and studied the toes of her boots. "Kate, don't take out your anger at Jim on some man you don't even know." Kate decided to ignore that remark. "They made a terrible mess. We may have to roll our sleeping bags out on the porch." "We can sleep inside. When will the furniture be here?" Belle stood up and slapped her hat against her leg. "We're lucky. There's electricity out here

now. When Daddy and I lived here, we burned kerosene lamps, and cooked over an open fireplace." "Where will we have to go to put up a deposit for electricity?" Kate pushed the front door open with her foot. "St. Agnes, probably." Together the women entered the house. "Dear God, what a mess." Kate surveyed what had once been the living room with open disdain. "What is St. Agnes?" "Don't swear, Kate," her mother admonished. She pointed to the brick monstrosity that covered one wall of the living room. "Your daddy built that fireplace. We hauled the bricks from St. Agnes. It's a little town about twenty miles from here. I haven't been there in nearly forty years. But as I remember, it wasn't very big." Kate swore as she pulled grass spears from her jeans. "Damn, every plant here has a burr, or a sticker, or a thorn on it."

A wide smile creased Belle's face. "Now you know why cowboys wear boots. And there you go, swearing again." "Damn it, Mamma, don't tell me not to swear." Kate gave a particularly stubborn grass burr a decisive yank. "Maybe that's why cowboys are a dying breed." "Cowboys aren't a dying breed. You can find one on every corner in St. Agnes, or San Antonio. Maybe you should go looking. A cowboy could make you forget that city slicker ex-husband who left you for a woman half his age. The only thing you have to be thankful for is that you were too old to be pregnant." "Mamma, honestly," Kate complained, but a smile tugged at the sides of her mouth. "Let's look at the bedrooms, and the kitchen. I guess a bathroom is too much to hope for." Belle jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "The outhouse is in the back. We have two bedrooms and a path."

By now the sun had begun to slide toward the western horizon. "We'd better make our tour." Belle stopped in the middle of the kitchen floor. "Then walk back up to the gate, and bring the car down." Kate stood in the doorway, thinking as she surveyed the old house, that they would have to make any necessary repairs themselves. "How handy are you with a hammer and saw, Mamma? The cabinet looks like it's about to fall off the wall." "Do you have a hammer, or a saw?" Belle asked. "Sure do, both. I did all of the little repair jobs around the house when Jim and I were first married. He was always too busy. I swing a wicked hammer." "Well, it looks like you will be swinging around here for quite a while. I brought my paint brush. If we can't raise cows, maybe we can go into the repair business." Belle yanked the back door open. "I hope the well still has water in it." She

let out a war whoop, "Yahoo!"-- then made a mad dash down a narrow path. "Mamma, what the...?" Racing after her mother Kate demanded, "What is wrong with you?" Belle pointed to the metal tower that rose like a mechanical mushroom between the house and the outhouse. "Look! A windmill! Mr. Sinclair must have put it up to water his cows." She leaned against the sides of a round concrete tank that stood beside to the square tower. "I was scared to death there wouldn't be any water here. Thank God for rich neighbors." Kate scowled at her mother as Belle began to dance around the back yard. "You never mentioned there might not be any water here. Mamma, how could you?" By now Belle had leaned over and was holding her hands under the pipe that spilled water into the tank. "Would you have come here if I'd told you there might not be any water?" Exasperation caused Kate to snap, "Mamma, you

said this place was liveable." "It is." Belle patted her face with her wet hands, then wiped them on the sides of her jeans. Her features softened as she met her daughter's unforgiving stare. "Katie, darling, I had to get you out of Dallas. All you did was sit around and blame yourself for something that wasn't your fault." A smile moved in to erase Kate's scowl. "Mamma, you're impossible. But you shouldn't have lied to me." "I didn't lie; I just omitted." "Is there anything else you omitted?" "Let's go get the car. It will be dark soon, and I'm hungry." They began to retrace their tracks up the grassy slope. "Tomorrow," Kate said, as they labored up the sloping incline, "we can go into St. Agnes, and get some electricity out here."

Belle's silence made Kate suspicious. "Mamma, do you know something about the electricity that I don't?" "Slow down, Kate," was Belle's reply. What was the use? Kate quickened her pace. If her mother didn't want to tell her, she wouldn't. They drove the car across the bumpy terrain, and parked it beside the house. It took longer than either of them expected to move the bales of hay around and clear a space in the living room for the bed rolls. "Tomorrow, this hay goes outside," Kate promised. "We can't do that, Kate," Belle argued. "This hay belongs to Mr. Sinclair. I should have written and told him we were moving back, but when he didn't renew his lease, I didn't think it was necessary. I'll call him when we go into St. Agnes tomorrow. Don't forget, if it wasn't for Mr. Sinclair, we wouldn't have a windmill."

"Maybe you're right," Kate slung a towel over her arm, and reached for a bar of soap. "Let's go make use of that water Mr. Sinclair has so generously provided." They took a leisurely bath in the concrete stock tank, then Kate rinsed her panties and bra, and hung them on the framework of the windmill. As she climbed from the tank, Kate cupped her hands and caught a trickle of water from the pipe that ran from the windmill. She sucked the water into her mouth, then choked, causing it to explode into her nose. "Mamma, this water tastes terrible. We can't drink this!" Belle was pulling a long nightgown over her head. "It's just a little gippy. You'll get used to it." Lifting her head, Belle pointed a finger skyward. "Look at those stars. They look like sapphires. When you see a Texas sky at night, you see one of nature's more perfect endeavors." Kate looked up. The view was little short of spectacular. Millions of stars twinkled like

diamonds set in a vast expanse of black velvet. For a moment, Kate stared in awe. Then she brought her head down, and narrowed her eyes against the darkness. "You knew that the water here was terrible!" "Not terrible, gippy. It passes through strata of gypsum on its way up." Belle began to walk toward the house. "All the water around here tastes like that. You'll get..." Kate's angry reply echoed into the night. "Don't you dare tell me I'll get used to it. I won't." Belle called, "Turn off the windmill." Kate wrapped her towel around her middle. "How do you turn off a windmill? Why should we bother anyway?" "I forgot you're a city slicker. I'll do it myself. These critters squeak. I don't want to hear it groaning and taking on all night." Belle brushed past Kate, and reached for the long wooden handle that swung on a wire from the top of the windmill. Grasping it firmly, she pulled down

hard. The windmill ground to a screeching halt. "Listening to a squeaking windmill is like listening to a man snore." She fastened the handle to the side of the tower with a hook that must have been put there for that purpose. "Reassuring and at the same time aggravating." Kate thought, what an analogy. "Mamma, honestly." Belle began to hurry down the path. "Let's make supper, then get to bed. It's been a long day." Later, as she snuggled in her sleeping bag, Kate thought how fortunate she was to have her mother, and repented that she had let Belle's little deception get to her. Into the soft darkness, she called out, "Mamma?" "I'm here." The words fell into the vacant silence. "And you always have been. Thanks Mamma." There was a catch in Belle's voice. "You're welcome."

For a long time Kate lay with her arms folded under her head, staring into the darkness, thinking, remembering, regretting. Belle's voice called her back from her reverie "A penny for your thoughts." Kate sighed and turned over. "You wouldn't want to know, Mamma." "Don't you think I don't know you still think of Jim when you go to bed at night?" The bland words stung. Kate raised up on her elbow and stared into the darkness. "Do you really want to know what I was thinking, Mamma? I was thinking about Lila, and wondering what it was like to be the other woman." "Don't tell me you're envying Lila." "Oh, Lord, no!" In spite of herself, Kate smiled. Belle did have a way of making her daughter come to grips with reality.

"It's not always easy being the other woman." "Don't preach to me, Mamma. You don't know any more about being the other woman than I do." "Yes I do," Belle shot back. " I was the other woman, once, a long time ago." Kate vaulted to a sitting position. Before she could find her voice, Belle added, "Surprises you, doesn't it?" "Yes," Kate admitted, "Although I don't know why. Every time I think you can't surprise me again, you do. You never told me about this." "I didn't break up a marriage. Mark's marriage was over long before I met him. But he was a religious man, and didn't believe in divorce. You were all of ten years old when it was happening. I didn't think you would understand. After it was over, I didn't see why I should tell anyone." Kate slipped out of her bed roll, and sat cross-legged on top of the covers. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened. I slept with Mark several times. Enough times to see our affair was tearing him apart. His religion wouldn't let him divorce his wife. His love for me was too strong to let him say no, when I offered myself. A man can decide between two women, if that's all he has to contend with, but throw in an angry God, and you have problems." "What did he finally do?" "Him?" Belle snorted. "Nothing. I did it. I took you, and moved to Dallas." "Wasn't that hard to do?" "Sure it was," Belle conceded. "And if it helps your feelings any, you can bet Lila will have some hard times along the way too. I know it sounds trite and old fashioned, but people reap what they sow." "Mamma, Lila is just a child, not much older than Suzie." They were getting into an area Kate didn't want to explore, the placing of guilt, and the

laying of blame. "Go to sleep, Mamma. We have to unload the car and go to St. Agnes tomorrow." Over a yawn, Belle said, "Goodnight, Kate." Kate slipped back into her sleeping bag, and closed her eyes, but it was a long time before she fell asleep. She had just dropped over the edge of consciousness, when she was yanked back to a terrified wakefulness by a cry like a banshee's wail. In a matter of seconds she was out of her bed roll, and on her feet. "What was that?" Belle was unperturbed. "It was a coyote. There must be a pack of them somewhere near by." "That sound would wake the dead. You worried about a little creak from a windmill? How can I sleep with that going on? Can't we make them go away?" "It's not that bad. Go to bed, Katie." Kate began to crawl back into her bag. As she

pulled the zipper up, she raised her voice to a high falsetto, and said in concert with her mother, "You'll get used to it." Her parody of her mother's words sent Belle into gales of laughter. Belle, in turn, sent Kate into a spasm of giggles by saying in unison with her daughter, "Mamma, honestly." This time Kate did sleep. She was wakened by a loud cacophony of strident voices coming from outside. Rolling over, she opened her eyes to see the tall figure of a man looming over her. She bolted to an upright position. "Who are you?" "More to the point," the man demanded, in a gruff drawl, "Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my house?" He was tall, and ruggedly handsome. He wore jeans, a denim shirt, chaps, and cowboy boots. A red bandanna was tied carelessly around his neck. "My God." Kate shook her head to clear her mind. "I must be dreaming."

The man took a step nearer, The rauls on his spurs jingled. "Who the hell turned off my windmill?" Kate realized she was wearing only a thin cotton gown that revealed the fullness of her breasts, the smooth lines of her slim waist. The figure she had always been so proud of suddenly became a source of embarrassment. Putting her arms across her chest, she gripped her shoulders. "Your house? Your windmill? You're either drunk or crazy. This place belongs to me! Can't you see I'm not dressed? Get out of here." Her words converted his anger into smiling arrogance. "Yeah, I see. What are you doing here? Couldn't you afford a motel?" Before Kate could find a reply that was scathing enough, another cowboy invaded the room carrying her panties and bra. "Hey, Boss, look what Jake and me found hanging on the windmill." He propped one boot on the bales of hay that hid Kate from his view. Holding up the skimpy bikini panties, and swinging the size 34-D

bra around on his index finger, he laughed. "Me and Jake want to find the filly that fits these garments. Man, she must be stacked." "Those garments belong to me," Kate stormed, causing the cowboy to look around the hay bales, and stare at her with his mouth hanging open. "and I am no filly. I'm old enough to be your mother." And she was. The boy was not one day over twenty years old. Dropping the garments, he ran from the room, calling as he went, "God damn, Jake you ain't gonna believe this." The older man smiled with sudden good humor. "Lady, you just scared the hell out of Billy Jack." Using his thumb, he pushed his hat back, revealing a bushy head of silver grey hair. "You're not old enough to be my mamma, and he's right, you are stacked." This middle-aged Lothario was coming on to her. A sudden remembrance drove every other thought from her mind. "What have you done with my mamma?"

At that precise moment, Mamma appeared in the doorway, wearing her long Mother Hubbard night gown, and brandishing a double barreled shot gun. "Hands up, you miserable trespasser. I got you covered." Kate's dream was turning into a nightmare. "Is that thing loaded, Mamma?" She scrambled from her bed roll, and raced to stand between Mamma and the intruder. Behind her, she heard a dull, frightening click. "Put that gun down, Mamma, before you accidentally shoot somebody." Belle rested the gun on Kate's shoulder, closed one eye, and looked down the barrel. "Stand still Katie, and let me draw a bead. I can handle this." The tall stranger moved leisurely across the floor, pushed Kate aside, and pulled the gun from Mamma's shaking hands. "Am I seeing double? Are there two half naked females in my house?" He dropped the hammer on the gun, and leaned it against the fireplace. Kate pushed her arms into her robe and

admonished Belle to, "Put something on." Belle tied the belt of her robe with a flourish. "Okay stranger, what are you doing here?" "Iwas rounding up cattle." Once again, the tall stranger asked, "Who turned off my windmill?" "Do you work for Mr. Sinclair?" Belle asked, as she came to stand beside Kate. On the end of an amused laugh, the man replied, "I am Mr. Sinclair." "Is this something else you omitted, Mamma?" Kate turned to face her mother. "You told me Marcus Sinclair was seventy-five years old." Angrily, Belle answered, "He is!" "Was," the man corrected. "Marcus Sinclair was my father, He died last year." "Oh, dear." Belle put one hand to her mouth. "Nobody told me."

"And who might you be?" One eyebrow climbed up the man's mobile face. Kate wondered if he was angry or amused. Maybe a little of both, she decided. She made introductions. "I'm Kate McClure." She nodded in Belle's direction. "This is my mother, Belle Sullivan." "You're Mrs. Sullivan?" The man's voice rose in surprise. "Thatcher Sullivan's widow?" He grasped Belle's hand in a warm greeting, "I'm Hank Sinclair, Marcus's son. Do you remember me?" "I remember the scrawny little kid Marcus used to bring with him when he came to visit. Are you him?" Belle dropped onto a bale of hay. "I thought you grew up and moved to New York City, or some such foreign place." "I lived in places more foreign than New York City. I was a geologist for Macon Oil for many years. What are you doing here, Mrs. Sullivan, reminiscing?"

"We live here now," Belle answered. "Kate and I decided to go into the cattle business." Hank cast a questioning look in Kate's direction. "My old man owned this place. That means it's mine now. I found records showing he had been paying the taxes on Paradise for the last forty years. Maybe you'd better explain that to your mother." Kate's heart fell to the pit of her stomach. "Mamma, is that true?" Belle seemed to have found her flagging courage. "That he owned the place? No. That he paid the taxes? Yes. Marcus put the money in the bank in St. Agnes. The bank sent the tax office the money. In turn, I let Marcus use the land. That was the deal we made. Every year Marcus sent me a little note saying he'd put the money in the bank. Every year, I wrote back and told him the lease was renewed. Only this year he didn't write, and later I got a bill for the taxes. I figured he didn't want to lease the land anymore, so I paid the taxes myself." Belle stopped to catch her breath, then added, "They let me pay in three installments."

Hank threw both hands into the air. "I don't believe this. Even my old man wasn't that crazy. That's no way to conduct business." "It worked for forty years," Belle retorted, "Until your daddy reneged on his end of the deal." Once again, Hank confronted Kate. "I can't seem to get through to your mother. Maybe I can make you understand. My old man improved this land every year. He put up that windmill out there." He pointed a stiff finger toward the back door. "He strung five wire fences all over the place. He built a barn, and put in a loading chute. We run seventy-five head of cows on this place. I don't think he would have done that if he hadn't owned it." By now Hank was shouting. "What do you mean, you live here now?" "Why don't you calm down, Mr. Sinclair" Kate said, making an effort to soothe this angry man. "Calm down, hell!" He swung around and headed for the door. "I want you two crazy dames out of here before the sun goes down today."

Something inside Kate snapped. Words pushed to the back of her mind, and forgotten, surfaced. "The marriage is over, Kate. I want you to leave as soon as possible." She astounded herself by saying, "That's where I'll see you before I'll let you toss me out of here." Hank slapped his hat against the side of his leg. "What did you say?" "I said," Kate reiterated, "that I will see you in hell before I'll let you put me off my place." "Women," Hank exploded, then strode out the door, and down the path toward the two men standing by the water tank. Kate watched him go, her mouth set in a determined line. When she turned, Belle was smiling a smile that spread across her face like sunshine. "That," she said, succinctly, "will teach Mr. Sinclair not to cross my daughter."

CHAPTER TWO

Kate drove south toward St. Agnes. The road was a twisting, winding farm-to- market byway that had seen better days. In the past five miles she had overtaken one tractor, and met one approaching car. Glancing toward her mother, she asked, "Do you think this road is always this deserted?" "Forty years ago it wasn't even paved. Daddy and I used to drive it every Saturday." Belle reminisced as she stared out the window. "Daddy had an old International Harvester pickup. It wouldn't go more than thirty-five miles an hour." Kate supposed she would have to accept that as an answer. "How much farther is it to St. Agnes?" "I'm proud of you, Kate. You stood right up to Hank Sinclair. Then you made those cowboys carry all that hay out of the house."

When she wanted to, Belle could be very exasperating. "Mamma, how much farther is it to St. Agnes? "I didn't know you had it in you." Silently admitting defeat, Kate got a tighter grip on the steering wheel. Belle would answer when she was ready, not before. "To tell the truth Mamma, neither did I." They rode for several minutes in silence before Belle questioned. "Why don't you go ahead and ask?" Mamma wanted to play games. Well, two could do that. "Ask what, Mamma?" "Whatever it was you wanted to ask when you asked how far it is to St. Agnes. We passed a sign that said fifteen miles to St. Agnes just before you asked how far it was to St. Agnes." "I didn't see the sign." Kate's patience was wearing thin. "Mamma, damn it, do you own Paradise?"

"Don't swear, Kate. It's not ladylike." "Mamma, I want an answer, not a lecture." "Yes, I own Paradise. What makes you think I don't?" Puffing out her cheeks, Kate expelled a long breath. "Is there some way Marcus Sinclair could have stolen the place from you without you knowing it?" "Marcus wouldn't do that. And if he'd tried it, I'd have stopped him. I'm not a fool, Kate." Shaking her head in disbelief, Belle asked, "Don't you trust anybody?" "I trust you, Mamma, although sometimes I wonder why. I hope to God you haven't conveniently omitted some of the details of your deal with Marcus Sinclair." "Don't take God's name in vain, Kate," Belle chided gently. "I didn't omit anything. The deal we had was, Marcus paid the taxes, and I leased

him Paradise." It was useless to try to reason with her mother, but Kate felt compelled to try. "Hank Sinclair thinks differently." "That's Hank Sinclair's problem." Reaching across the little space that separated them, Belle patted Kate's leg. "When we get to St. Agnes, the first stop we make will be at the bank. You can talk to them. That should ease your mind." Kate began to breathe a little easier. "What kind of an arrangement do you have with the bank?" "Forty years ago, just before I moved away, I went to Mr. Taylor, he was the president of the bank. I explained to him about the deal I had with Marcus." There was no way to hurry Belle once she had begun to explain. Kate nodded her head. "Then what?" "Mr. Taylor was a fine man, but I never could like his wife." Remembering made Belle frown.

"She was snooty and stuck-up. She thought she was better than anyone else, just because she was married to the town banker." She's doing this deliberately, Kate thought. Mamma wants to drive me out of my mind. With a demanding effort of will, she held her tongue. "They had two children, a boy and a girl." Kate exploded. "Mamma, I don't care about the history of the Taylor family. Tell me about your deal with the bank." "Well, that's what I'm trying to do." On the tail of a long suffering sigh, Belle went on. "I told Mr. Taylor the deal Marcus and I had made, and he said if I would open an account with the bank, and give the bank authority to pay the taxes, then Marcus could put the money in the bank each year, and the bank could pay the taxes for me. So, I did, and he did, and they did." "How do you know he did and they did?" Kate's lips thinned with irritation.

"I got a receipt showing the taxes had been paid every year, up until last year." It sounded reasonable and legitimate, but Kate wanted to make sure. "We can open an account at the bank while we're there. I still have five hundred dollars in my account in Dallas. I can transfer it to the bank in St. Agnes." Mentally, Kate calculated. "I still owe the movers two hundred and fifty dollars. The deposit for our lights shouldn't be more than fifty dollars. That will leave us enough to live on until you get your retirement check the first of the month." "I wonder who runs the bank now?" Belle was paying no heed to what Kate was saying. "Mamma, will you pay attention? We don't have any money at all to buy any kind of live stock for Paradise. How can we even hope to raise cattle if we can't even afford to buy one cow? Maybe I should go to San Antonio and look for a job." "You tried that in Dallas," her mother reminded her, none too kindly, "and ended up spending all the money from your divorce settlement trying to

make ends meet." "If I have to, I can borrow money on my car. Maybe I should talk to the bank about that." Resentment ballooned inside Kate. How many women, she wondered had faced what she was facing now, the problem of starting over again at middle age with nothing but bittersweet memories to sustain them? "Cheer up, Kate. In a way, we're rich. We do have the future, and we have each other," Belle philosophized. "Don't look back, honey, and don't regret. Life's too long for that." "You mean too short, don't you, Mamma?" They had come to city limits of St. Agnes. "Which way to the bank?" Belle said, "Turn right at the light. The bank used to be about two blocks down. No. Katie, I mean too long. If you died tomorrow, it would be too long to spend regretting what you can't change." The trim lines of a modern brick building came into view. Under an electronic sign that

alternately flashed the time, then the temperature, bold letters announced St. Agnes State Bank. Kate pulled into a parking space. "Mamma, you're a very astute woman." Belle undid her seat belt, and reached for the handle of the car door. "I'm smart, too." "And modest." Kate slammed her car door, and stepped onto the concrete walkway. Belle fell in step with her daughter. "I've lived long enough to know you can't change the past. You try to learn for what happened, then do the next thing." Belle pulled the bank door open. "Right now our next thing is, get on with making Paradise liveable." The receptionist who sat behind the desk in the lobby, could have stepped out of a fifties sitcom, right down to her cat-eye glasses and bouffant hairdo. She shifted her gum around in her mouth. "Can I help you?" Belle had made this ridiculous deal with the

president of the bank. Impulsively, Kate declared, "We'd like to see the president." The receptionist snapped her teeth into her gum. "You want to see Mr. Taylor?" Kate folded her arms across her chest. "Yes." "I'll see if he's busy. Would you like to sit down?" In a matter of minutes Kate and Belle were ushered into a plush office at the end of the hall. The man who rose to greet them was tall, middle aged and handsome. Finished was the word that came to Kate's mind when she looked at him. From the top of his neatly combed salt and pepper hair to the tip of his expensive boots, he was perfectly coordinated, and impeccably groomed. "Ladies?" He grasped Kate's hand with long, tapering fingers. "I'm York Taylor. You wanted to see me?" Kate introduced herself, then her mother. She hastened to explain their mission, then asked, "Can you check on the status of my mother's

account?" York pressed his index finger into a buzzer on his desk, then leaned back in his chair and tented his fingers together. "Would you like a cup of coffee?" Kate sipped the tepid liquid and thought that she should have worn something besides jeans and a tee skirt. York Taylor was giving her the once over, with no attempt to hide the fact that he liked what he saw. A timid little secretary appeared, laid a folder on the big desk, and hurried away. York thumbed through the folder, then closed it and laid it on his desk. "Mrs. Sullivan, you made this transaction with my father almost forty years ago. It's a relatively simple, if somewhat unorthodox agreement. As of now you have two thousand four hundred dollars and sixty-four cents in your account." For once in her life, Belle was speechless. After a few moments, she sat her cup on the edge of the

desk and leaned forward in her chair. "What did you say?" "It's a relatively simple..." Belle pointed to the folder on the desk. "There's money in this account? How did that happen?" York picked up the folder and ruffled through the pages. "You opened the account with the sum of one hundred dollars. Each year that one hundred dollars accrued interest. Mr. Sinclair always sent a check for the maximum amount of taxes. Because of your initial deposit, the bank was able to begin by paying the discounted amount. We continued to do that throughout the years, and added the small difference to your account." Kate could have shouted. "This is wonderful news." Belle gave Kate a broad wink. "I told you not to worry." York himself supervised the moving of Kate's

account from Dallas. When the transaction was complete, he insisted on escorting Belle and Kate to the front door. "You have been so kind, Mr. Taylor." Kate couldn't remember ever feeling more grateful, or more relieved. York laid his hand over Kate's arm. "The pleasure was mine. If you need me, don't hesitate to call." He pressed his card into her hand. Once outside the door, Belle let out a little war whoop. "Yahoo! Can you believe it Katie? I actually got lucky." She put her hand over her mouth, and giggled. "So did you. York Taylor was taken with my red-haired daughter." "Oh, Mamma, for heaven's sake. The man is probably married." "If I were you, I'd find out," Belle advised. "He'd be a real catch." Kate ignored Belle's sly suggestion. "Which way to the utility company?"

Belle pointed. "That way." The youth behind the service counter at the South Texas Power and Light Company wore jeans, one ear ring, and a big smile. "May I help you?" Kate cleared her throat. "I want to apply for new electrical service." The young man asked, "Rural or city?" "Rural. Our place is Northwest of here, about twenty miles." "Oh, then, you have to see the field man." The youth inclined his head to the right. "Over there. It says Mr. Barnett on the door." Kate tapped her foot on the floor as she tapped her hand on the door, and waited. From the other side came a resonant, "Come in." Kate peeked inside. "Mr. Barnett?"

The balding man rose to his feet. "I am Edward Barnett." Pulling two chairs near his desk, he invited Kate and Belle to sit down. "You wish to apply for a new service meter?" Belle's voice held enough sarcasm to set Kate's nerves on edge, "No we came here looking for..." With a withering look, Kate silenced her mother, then hastily explained her predicament. The man listened, his eyes shifting from Kate to Belle, then back to Kate again. "No problem, Mrs. McClure. As soon as you put up your deposit and install your meter loop, we will be glad to provide service." "You don't install the meter loop? " Kate had no idea what a meter loop was. She carefully refrained from saying so. "No. We don't. That's a job for an electrician. You can pick up the instruction sheet and the meter can at the desk when you make your deposit. When the loop is installed, call us, we will come out, inspect the loop, and set a meter."

Belle stood to her feet. "Katie baby, I think our luck just ran out." Kate was putting the meter can in the back seat of the car before Belle asked, "Kate, what do we do now?" Kate slammed the back door. "There's an instruction sheet. Maybe we can do it ourselves. If we can't, we will have to hire an electrician." "First things first." Belle fastened her seat belt. "Let's find a place to eat. I'm starved." Kate shifted into reverse, and pulled into the street. "Maybe York Taylor can help us find an electrician." "Look," Belle pointed as they drove down the main street of St. Agnes. "A McDonald's. Let's have a Big Mac." They stood in line to order. "Noon rush," the waitress explained, as she shoveled French fries into a cardboard holder.

Kate pushed her tray across the long table, then squeezed in between a young woman and her small son on one side, and an elderly gentleman on the other. She bit into her hamburger. "What do you think, Mamma?" "I think I wish I'd ordered French fries." "Do you want me to get you some?" "No thanks." Belle reached across the table. "I'll just munch a few of yours." Kate took the meter loop instruction sheet from her pocket, unfolded it and smoothed it out on the table. "Mamma, this thing is complicated. What does three phase mean?" Belle pulled the sheet across the table, and studied it for several seconds. "My Lord, Kate! This looks like it was written in hieroglyphics. We can't even read this. How can we put the contraption together?" Kate took a gulp of coke. "Maybe Mr. Barnett

was right. We may have to find an electrician." The small child seated to Kate's right, stood up and howled, "Wanna go outside." He pointed to the playground. "Take me now, Mommy." The young woman wiped a napkin across the child's mustard smeared face. "All right. Put a lid on it. We're going." The woman collected napkins and wrappers from the table, then hoisted the child on her hip, and scooted toward the playground. Kate patted the space beside her, "Come around on this side, Mamma, and try to help me figure this thing out." Belle pushed her tray across the table, and came to sit beside Kate. "Who do you think I am, Einstein?" Completely absorbed, the two women studied the instruction sheet. "Do you know what conduit is?" Kate stuck a French fry into her mouth.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Belle said. "I told you, I'm not Einstein." The elderly man seated next to Kate cleared his throat. "Excuse me." Two heads snapped up in unison to stare at him. He looked like a modern replica of Buffalo Bill. "Conduit is thin wall galvanized pipe." Extending his hand, he asked, "May I see your diagram? I may be able to help you." Kate slid the instruction sheet across the table, thinking as she did so, that she had never before seen anyone with eyes the color of burnished silver. After scanning the sheet for a few moments, the man asked, "Is this for a commercial building?" Kate shook her head in negation. "It's for our house. We live on a ranch." "Then a good portion of this is unimportant." A smile creased his face, lit the silver in his eyes. "You don't have to worry about three phase if this

is for a house." "The problem is," Belle chimed in, "we don't know which portion is important, and which portion is not." "Well, Mrs...." The man reached across Kate and grasped Belle's hand. "My name is Carter, Cody Carter. I'm pleased to meet you, Mrs.... " "Sullivan," Belle dropped his hand. "My name is Belle Sullivan, and this is my daughter, Kate McClure." "Well, Mrs. Sullivan, I wouldn't worry too much. The men folk at your place will understand this." "There are no men folk at our place." Kate got a jab in her ribs from Belle's elbow for her honesty. "Where do you live," Cody's eyes never left Belle's face. Before Kate could answer, Belle countered with, "Where do you live?"

"There." Cody pointed toward a battered pickup with a camper, parked near the entrance of the drive-in. In unison the women questioned, "You live in a camper?" "Yep, me and Lady." "Who is Lady?" Belle asked. "Lady's my dog. We took to the road after my wife died in 'eighty-five. I've had lots of jobs since then. One of them was as an electrician's helper. Lived on a ranch once, too, up in Wyoming. I liked the wide-open spaces, but the cold winters froze me out." Belle stood to her feet. "It was nice meeting you, Mr. Carter. We have to go now. Thanks for your help." She grabbed her handbag and the instruction sheet, and hurried toward the door. Kate raced after her. Once outside, Kate caught up to Belle, and grabbed her arm. "Mamma, what is wrong with you? You were down right rude to

a man who was offering to help us." "How do you know he wants to help? Kate sometimes you are so dumb. You told that man we live out in the country, and that we live alone. He could be a serial killer for all you know." "He is not a serial killer, Mamma. He's a nice old man who might be able to help us put in a meter loop." People in the parking area were staring. Neither Belle nor Kate noticed. "I don't know, Kate. I saw a movie on TV once about a serial killer. He looked just like anybody else, only he was a lot more handsome." "Mamma, that man was not the real killer. That was Mark Harmon. He's a movie star. He's supposed to be handsome." Kate began to lead Belle back toward McDonald's. Belle pulled back. "What are you up to, Kate?" "Mamma, you're always complaining because I

am afraid to take a chance. Then, when I decide I will, you balk. I am going to try to hire that nice man to put in that damn meter loop. Now come on, let's catch him before he gets away." Belle dragged her feet. "You're swearing again, Kate." "Come on, Mamma. We can't let this man escape." "And chasing men, What has come over you?" "Stop it, Mamma." Kate stepped back as two teenagers rushed around her, and hurried inside. Cody was still sitting where they left him. "Forget something?" "Mr. Carter?" Kate slipped back into her old seat. "Give me the instruction sheet, Mamma." Reluctantly, Belle surrendered the piece of paper, and sat down across from Kate, pursing her lips and wearing a look of long suffering forbearance.

"Mr. Carter, Mamma and I..." "Why don't you call me Cody? Most folks do." Kate swallowed. "Cody, Mamma and I have just moved to St. Agnes from up north..." "How far up north?" Kate looked toward her mother with a glance that begged, help me, and was rewarded with a bland uncomprehending stare. She swallowed again. "Dallas." "I lived there once for a couple of months." Cody was looking at Mamma as he spoke. "Nice place." "Yes, it is," Kate agreed. "Cody, Mamma and I..." "You want me to get you a glass of water?" Cody asked. "No." Kate answered, "I want to offer you a job." The words found their way over the lump in her

throat. "We need someone to help us install this meter loop." She tapped the instruction sheet with her finger. "We would be glad to pay you the standard fee." She had said it. Kate folded her hands and waited. "Can I call you Kate?" Dear God, Kate thought, he's worse than Mamma. "Please do." "Kate," Cody said the word slowly, savoring the sound that rolled from his tongue. "Is that your real name?" "My full name is Kathleen Jane Sullivan McClure. Everybody calls me Kate." Turning to Mamma, Cody asked, "Did you give her that mouthful of a name?" "Her daddy thought up the Kathleen. I named her Jane after my Grandma Donovan." Sighing, Belle added, "We never called her anything but Kate, though."

Kate thought, I can't put up with these conversational shenanigans. Then she remembered the meter loop. "How much would you charge?" Cody took his eyes off Mamma long enough to give Kate a searching stare. "I'd have to figure that out. I guess it would depend on how long it took me to do the job." An alarm sounded in Kate's head. She had hoped Cody would quote an overall price. What if he charged by the hour? "Could you give me a ball park figure?" Cody took a pencil from his shirt pocket, and began to scribble on his napkin. "Let me figure how much a day I get in pay. The government sends me one hundred and sixty-four dollars and forty-four cents every month." He mumbled under his breath and used his fingers to count. "That figures out to about forty-one dollars and eleven cents a week. A frown deepened the wrinkles in his forehead. "That's about five dollars and eighty-seven cents a day. I should be able to do that job in say, two, three days."

Kate breathed a tremendous sigh of relief. "When can you start?" "That don't include the materials for the job." Cody warned. "You have to buy that." "Make a list," Kate instructed. "I'll get everything you need before I go home." "You'll have to tell me how to get there. Maybe you can draw a map. I don't want to get out on a back road and get lost." Cody began to make a list of materials on the back of another napkin. Kate couldn't believe her ears when she heard Belle say, "Why don't you meet us at the north edge of town in about three hours? You can follow us out." After forty-six years, Mamma could still confound Kate completely. She had too many other things on her mind to worry about that now. "Could you do that, Cody?" "One other thing." Cody held up a gnarled hand. "It's about Lady, my dog. If she isn't welcome, I

can't go either." "We would love to have Lady, wouldn't we Mamma?" "I don't know yet." Belle said. "Dogs are like people. I have to get to know them before I decide if I like them." Through clenched teeth, Kate threatened, "Mamma." She hoped her narrowed eyes and furrowed brow sent her mother a message. If Belle messed up this deal, Kate would never forgive her. Belle asked, "Do you have any children, Cody?" "Not anymore. I had one son, but he died. Lady's my family now." "Then you know Kate is mad at me because I didn't lie and say I knew I'd like your dog." Cody chuckled. "I know. But I'm not worried. Lady's a thoroughbred. You'll like her. What's the name of this ranch I'm going to?"

"Paradise," Kate told him, then watched as his face shaped into a puzzled grin. "Paradise? That's a strange name." "For a ranch you mean? My dad named it," Kate explained. "Mamma said it looked like paradise to him." "I haven't seen anything around here that looks like paradise, but then, a cow pile looks like paradise to a fly." Cody reached for his hat. "I'll see you in three hours out by the city limit sign north of town." He stood and put his hat on his head, then began to stack the refuse from his meal on a tray. "Let's go, Mamma." All Kate could think of now, was getting Mamma out of Cody's sight before she said something that would make him change his mind. They were almost to the hardware store before Kate ventured, "I can't believe you invited Cody to come to the ranch, Mamma. What made you

decide he isn't a serial killer?" She had never seen her mother's face take on such a glow. "Those eyes. They look like polished pewter." "I was thinking burnished silver." "I like polished pewter better. I'm glad you hired him, Kate." Belle propped her boots on the dashboard. "Let's get the rest of our shopping done. We need to go to a grocery store, too." "Mamma, I've asked you a thousand times not to put your feet on the dashboard." "Fussy, fussy, " Belle complained. "You lived with that fuss budget Jim McClure too long." But she took her feet down, and began to hum, off key. Three hours and fifteen minutes later Belle was not so happy. "What do you suppose happened to him, Kate?" They were parked beside the city limit sign at the north end of St. Agnes. "Do you think he changed his mind?"

"Give the man time, Mamma. You're waiting for the hired help, not your first date." Kate looked across the rolling countryside that followed the little rise of hills into the distance. Out of the blue it hit her, the memory of her first date with Jim. She had been a senior in high school, and Jim was a college junior. How excited she had been. From nowhere came a feeling of depression that deepened to total despair. Tension tightened her stomach, as a rip of anguish clawed at her heart. She should have known, should have guessed. But she hadn't. Not until Jim had told her, "I'm in love with Lila, Kate. I want a divorce." Wiping at the tears that gathered in her eyes, Kate turned her head away for Belle. Gently, Belle laid her hand on Kate's shoulder. "Mamma loves her Katie baby." Belle's standard words of comfort for every hurt from a skinned knee to a broken heart. Kate collapsed in her mother's arms, and wept, briefly and bitterly.

"Get it all out." Belle folded Kate into her bony embrace. After a brief but determined struggle, Kate gained a degree of control. "I'm sorry, Mamma." She wiped her face, and sat up in her seat. "I'm acting like a big baby." "You're acting like a woman who had her heart broken." Belle's eyes were moist. "A heartbroken woman is like a recovering alcoholic. You begin to get better by admitting you won't ever completely recover, then you learn to survive by living one day at a time." "Mamma, some of your analogies are terrible." Kate smiled through her tears. Belle smoothed Kate's hair back from her face. "We're going to make it Katie, mostly because we don't have a choice." Mamma was right, they didn't have a choice. "You do have a way with words, Mamma." Belle sat up, and pointed down the road toward

St. Agnes. "Look, here comes old pewter eyes." Belle put her fingers in the sides of her mouth, leaned out the window and gave a most unladylike whistle, then swung her arm in a forward motion. Kate shifted gears, and pulled into the road, then watched through the rear view mirror as the battered pickup fell in behind them. "Fasten your seat belt, Mamma. We're headed for Paradise."

CHAPTER THREE

The sun was an orange ball on the western horizon by the time Kate braked her car before the gate to Paradise. Shadows stretched long fingers through the trees that grew along the fence row."I hate having to stop and open gates." "That's something you won't ever learn to like." Belle opened the car door. "Someday maybe we

can afford a cattle guard. I hateopening gates." "But you'll get used to it," Kate jibed. "For that little remark, you can drive to the house by yourself. I'm going to ride the rest of the way with Cody." "If you want to ride with Cody, you don't need an excuse. All you have to do..." Belle slammed the car door hard. "Is say so," Kate finished, over the jarring echo of the banging door. Kate stopped her car beside the porch. The sound of an animal in distress ripped through the still air. Her eyes focused on a cow moving around the front yard in frantic circles, and lowing mournfully. Before Kate had time to collect her scattered senses, Cody had stopped his pickup, and was hurrying toward the suffering animal, with Belle in close pursuit. "What's wrong with her?" Kate called over the pitiful lowing.

"She's trying to drop a calf," Cody began to unbutton his shirt. "Your cow's in trouble. If we don't do something fast, you're going to lose her and the calf." By now his shirt was in his hand. "Do you have a calf puller?" "A what?" As Kate stared, in total confusion, Belle took to her heels. "No puller, I'll get a rope." "Hurry! I'll try to keep her on her feet until you get back!" Cody pitched his shirt on the porch. Belle raced toward the barn, calling over her shoulder as she ran, "Get the olive oil from the kitchen. Kate, and bring it to Cody." Kate ran. After a frantic search, she found the oil, and got back to Cody and the cow just as Belle raced from the barn with a rope in her hand. "Ever pull a calf?" Cody tied the rope around the front feet of the emerging calf. "It's been a while." Belle rubbed olive oil over

the exposed part of the calf, and around the cow's vagina. "I know you will pull toward the cow's hocks. I'll keep them both lubricated, and I won't get in the way." "Good girl." Each time the cow strained, Cody pulled the rope. With each yank, the calf moved a fraction, and the cow bellowed in agony. Kate put her hands over her ears, trying to shut out the cow's distressing cries of pain. After several successive tugs, the calf's shoulders were born. Cody gave a sigh of relief. "She's going to make it." Belle pulled her shirt tail from her jeans, and wiped mucus from the calf's nose. "One more pull should do it." Kate dropped her hands and watched the grisly procedure with grim fascination. The cow bawled in pain, as with one last yank of the rope, Cody pulled the calf free, then wiped his bloody hands down the sides of his jeans.

The new born calf stood on wobbly legs, and took a few faltering steps. "I thought for a while we would lose both of them." Cody wiped his arm across his face. "Is this her first calf?" Belle shrugged. "I don't know. The cow belongs to our neighbor." Cody turned to Kate. "Fetch me some iodine, if you have any." Puzzled, Kate asked, "What?" "Iodine, to disinfect the calf's navel." Kate brought the first aid kit she kept in her car. "Do you have to do this every time a cow gives birth to a calf?" After seeing what had just transpired, Kate wondered if being a rancher was such a good idea, after all. Cody took a long swig from the glass of water Belle had brought him, and grimaced. "Gippy." He handed Belle the glass. "Cows drop calves, Kate. If they drop them on the open range, there's usually no problem. But in a place like this, a calf

could pick up an infection." He painted around the calf's naval cord with liberal amounts of iodine. "Where's the afterbirth?" Kate asked. Cody put the calf to the cow's udder. "That won't come along for six, maybe twelve hours." "Kate's a city girl." Belle wiped her hands on her shirt tail. "She's got a lot to learn about cows." "Amen to that." Kate sat down on the porch. "Your neighbor needs to know this cow had trouble dropping her calf." Cody slipped his arms into his shirt, "Chances are, she'll have trouble next time. He may want to cull her from his herd." "I'll make sure he knows." Kate shut her eyes against the thought of having to face Hank Sinclair again. "There are a great many things I need to tell Mr. Sinclair." "What are we going to do about Mr. Sinclair running his cows on this place?" Belle sat down

on the porch beside Kate. Before Kate could think of an answer, a man on horseback came riding over the rise and galloped into the yard. Kate's expression moved from thoughtful to irritated. "That's Billy Jack. I wonder what he wants." "Take it easy." Belle patted Kate's arm. "Whatever it is, we can handle it." The rider dismounted and walked toward Kate. "Evening, Miss McClure," He doffed his ten-gallon hat and nodded toward Belle and Cody, "and y'all." "What do you want?" Agitation made Kate's voice sharp. Billy Jack swallowed a gulp of air before he answered. "I came to get that cow." He pointed to the cow and calf standing in the yard. "We thought you all would be gone by now."

Kate fought to keep from giving way to the anger that rose inside her. "Did you?" she asked with thinly veiled sarcasm. "And who, exactly, is we?" "Mr. Sinclair, Miss Catherine, and Jake, and me. Everybody over at Circle S." "Well, why don't you take your cow, and the calf Cody and Mamma just delivered, and go back and tell everybody at Circle S that we are still here?" Smugly, Billy Jack informed her, "Mr. Sinclair called his lawyer. He's going to get this whole damn mess straightened out." Somehow, Kate knew that declaration was an echo of words that came directly from Hank Sinclair's mouth. "On second thought, you can't have the cow. Tell Mr. Sinclair if he wants her, he can come for her himself." "Mr. Sinclair won't like that, Ma'am." Billy Jack twisted his hat around in his hands. "He's going to be as mad as an old wet hen. He said for me to bring that cow home. I don't cross him. If you knew him like I do, you wouldn't either."

Memories washed over Kate. Recollections of another man at another time, in another place, who delivered an ultimatum, then took what he wanted. And she had let him get away with it. These circumstances were different, yet amazingly similar. "Are you afraid to tell Mr. Sinclair what I said?" "I don't really cotton to the idea, but I reckon I don't have much choice." Billy Jack set his hat on his head, and gave it a little tap. "You got it, cowboy. Now get on your horse, and ride." As the horse galloped away in a cloud of dust, to disappear over the wooded rise, Kate thought, Dear God, what have I done now? Cody asked, "You want me to put the cow in the barn?" "Would you please?" Kate was suddenly bone weary.

Cody picked up the wobbly calf, and carried it toward the barn. The cow followed along after him. "This cow won't be up to going anywhere for a day or two." "You sounded like your daddy, talking up to that boy that way." Belle's face was grim, but her eyes were laughing. "Yep, just like him, shooting off your mouth before you stopped to think about the consequences. What are you going to do now, Kate?" "Make supper, and do some thinking, maybe some repenting. Honestly, Mamma, I don't know what got into me. All that talk about Hank Sinclair seeing his lawyer made me think of some of Jim's underhanded double dealings. I saw red." "I think you did the right thing." Belle tugged at the screen door. "Are you going to have the guts to follow through?" Kate followed her mother inside. "You actually agree with something I did? I can't believe it." "Neither can I." Belle rummaged around, and

found a clean shirt. "Let's make supper. I feel like I ate that Big Mac yesterday." Belle built a fire in the fireplace, mixed biscuits, put them in a Dutch oven, set the oven in the fireplace, and heaped coals around the pan. "Open a can of beans, Kate." "I didn't know you could cook biscuits in a fireplace." Kate watched her mother move about the room, with an economy of effort. "Now you know you can." Belle found four loose bricks beside the mantle. She fashioned them into a square rack in one corner of the fireplace. "I'll just scoot some coals under here." She used a pie pan to drop hot coals between the bricks. "And fry some bacon." Kate opened the beans, and set the can in the ashes to heat. "Should I make a salad. Mamma?" Belle wiped the end of her nose with the back of her hand, leaving a smudge of flour. "Sure, and open a can of fruit cocktail. Then set out our best paper plates. We have a guest for supper."

Kate pushed the half-packed boxes to one side and set three paper plates on the table. Watching her mother turn the bacon in the frying pan, Kate thought that if she lived to be a hundred, she would still be discovering things about Belle. "Where did you learn to pull a calf, Mamma?" "Your daddy taught me." Belle crouched before the fireplace. "We couldn't afford a hired hand, so I helped with the outside chores." Cody came through the back door, lifted his head and sniffed the air. "I washed up at the windmill. Something smells powerful good." "It's bacon and biscuits," Belle said without looking up. Cody sat at the table. "Lordy, I do love homemade biscuits." Kate couldn't see her mother's face, but she knew Belle was smiling. Supper was a surprisingly pleasant meal. Cody

regaled the two women with stories of his travels. Belle told about coming to live at Paradise all those long years ago. "I was a city person. I thought, if this is paradise, I sure hope I don't ever find myself in that other place." Cody helped himself to more fruit cocktail, pouring the last of the juice over his fruit. "Your husband was a lucky man to have you, Belle." "I was lucky to have him, too. He was a good man." "That's the nicest compliment a woman can pay a man." Cody's whiskers wiggled as he chewed. Those words bent Kate's mind toward an old memory. She recalled the Christmas Jim had dressed like Santa Claus and fooled Michael and Suzie. She had told Jim that night, what a good man he was, and he had smiled, and said, "That's quite a compliment." If Daddy had not died, would he have become disenchanted with Mamma somewhere along the way? Would he have found some one new to love, someone younger and prettier? Mamma was lucky. All her memories of

Daddy were good ones. With that unhappy insight, Kate helped herself to more beans. Trying to decide what she would say to Hank Sinclair caused Kate to toss and turn before she fell asleep. But with the light of a new day, came the resolve to see this thing through. During the morning, as she unpacked and put things away, Kate listened for an approaching car. Or would Hank Sinclair arrive on horse back? By mid-morning Belle and Kate were beginning to make some semblance of order from the chaos of furniture, boxes, and clothing that cluttered the old house. "Maybe we can find this place by night." Belle turned a crate on its end, and sat down. "But for now, let's take a breather. I'll make some more coffee. You call Cody." When Kate called to him, Cody leaned the post hole digger against the house, and turned. "Coffee, did you say? Sounds good to me. Lady and I need a rest." Cody's whistle brought the magnificent animal beside him to her feet. "What kind of dog is she?"

Kate asked. "German shepherd." Cody reached to stroke the neck of the dog beside him. "But she's white, " Kate protested. "You prejudiced against white German shepherds?" "I didn't know there was such a thing. I never saw a white German shepherd before. She's a splendid creature." "That's good to hear. Lady and I were beginning to worry." The stern words rode on a chuckle, causing Kate to move her eyes from the dog to Cody's amused face. "You're teasing me. May I pet her?" "I don't mind if Lady doesn't." Cody's fingers caressed the dog's ears. "Lady, say hello to Kate." Kate ran her hands through the incredibly thick fur around the dog's neck. "Hello, Lady."

Lady studied Kate with intelligent eyes, then gave her tail a wag, and turned her head to one side. "Do I meet with her approval?" Kate fell in step with Cody as he walked toward the back door. The dog trotted at Cody's heels. "Why don't you ask her?" Just like Mamma, Cody insisted on asking a question to answer a question. Maybe that aggravating trait was endemic to their generation. "I don't speak German," Kate quipped. Cody's laughter echoed across the open spaces. "A girl with a sense of humor. That's downright refreshing." "I'm not a girl, Cody. I'm a woman." Kate waited for Cody to open the door. "What's the difference?" Cody held the screen for Kate.

"Expectations." Lady brushed Kate's leg, as she went through the door. "Coffee," Belle called from the kitchen. By late afternoon, Kate began to worry. Hank Sinclair should have put in an appearance by now. Maybe he thought he didn't have to account for having his cows on Paradise. Maybe he was right. Was it possible that he had some claim on the ranch? Common sense told Kate no, but that little niggle of doubt wouldn't go away. "Why doesn't he show up?" From her reclining position on the couch, Belle asked, "Who?" "You know who, Mamma, Hank Sinclair." "Maybe he wants you to worry. Maybe..." Belle laid her paperback novel on the floor, and sat up. "Listen." The sound of a car pulling into the yard brought Kate to her feet. "Speak of the devil. He's here."

A Chrysler New Yorker pulled to a halt in the yard by the porch. Kate raised an eyebrow. "Such an ostentatious vehicle. Hank Sinclair seems more the Ford pickup type." With grim irony Belle reminded her daughter, "This is not the first time you've been wrong about a man. Answer the door." Belle picked up her book and hurried from the room. Kate held on to the door jamb, and gawked. The man walking toward her was not Hank Sinclair, but York Taylor. "I knew it!" Under her breath, Kate swore. "Damn!" There must be some mistake about Mamma's account, and York had felt constrained to make this long trip to explain. York's demeanor emanated poise and control. "I was on my way home, and I decided to drop by, see how you were, and bid you welcome to the neighborhood." His sudden appearance was having a most unsettling effect on Kate. Her nervous fingers held

the screen door open. "Won't you come in?" York removed his hat, and stood looking around the little room, taking in the pictures that lined the mantle, the crocheted afghan folded neatly across the back of the couch, Belle's rag throw rugs scattered about the floor. "It takes a woman's touch to make a house a home. The place looks very nice." Kate pushed her hair back from her face, and hoped she didn't look as nervous as she felt. "Sit down, won't you? Would you like a cup of coffee?" York folded his long body into the worn arm chair. "Nothing, thank you. As I was saying, I was on my way home, and I decided, on impulse, to stop." He didn't look like a man who had ever acted on impulse. "Home, Mr. Taylor? I didn't know you lived around here." "Please, Kate, call me York. I live on the spread north of you, the Triple T." He ran his long

fingers across the crocheted doily on the arm of the chair. "Did you make this?" Kate perched on the couch edge. "No, Mamma did." "It is lovely." Some of York's confidence seemed to desert him. "My late wife, Carol, took up crocheting as therapy when she learned she had cancer." Lacing his fingers together, he studied them carefully. "She's been gone three years, and I still miss her." His sad declaration struck a responsive chord in Kate. "I'm sorry." York vaulted to his feet, strode across the room, and picked up one of the pictures on the mantle. "Your family?" "My children," Kate explained. "Suzie and Michael. They're much older than that now. Michael is married. Suzie's in college." "Carol and I never had any children." He set the frame back down on the mantle. "Do you think

you will like living here? It's a far cry from Dallas." "Dallas wasn't so great." Kate said, remembering how difficult her last months there had been. "It was big and impersonal. I was glad to leave." "Sometimes the residents of a small town can be prying, and gossipy, which is almost as bad." York's words carried a veiled warning. "I suppose so." Kate was beginning to feel a little disturbed, and decidedly anxious. "Gossip spreads through St. Agnes like wildfire, once it starts." "I can imagine." This was not just a friendly, welcoming call. York had come here for some express purpose. "Is this a general warning, or have you heard something specific?" He slapped one hand against his leg. "How do I say this without sounding petty and provincial?" Kate's uneasiness was swallowed up in curiosity.

"What are you trying to tell me?" His smile was self-effacing. "My secretary's sister works for St. Agnes's resident attorney. She called Nora, my secretary, this morning to say that Hank Sinclair had called her boss earlier, saying that his father had made extensive improvements on the property here. He was asking about getting some kind of lien on Paradise, or bringing suit against you." "I know. Hank's hired hand told me the same thing yesterday." Tension tightened in Kate's stomach. The last thing she needed now was someone threatening her with a lawsuit. York didn't help matters any when he said, "If it had involved anyone but Hank Sinclair, I might have dismissed the whole nasty incident as gossip, but Sinclair can be ruthless." Before prudence could dictate caution, Kate asked, "Don't you like Mr. Sinclair?" "I hate him, and not without reason. He can't be trusted. The thought came to me that he might try

to take advantage of you." The man actually blushed when he realized the connotation his words carried. "With some shady business deal, I mean. I felt I should warn you." Kate's feelings of gratitude were tempered with doubt. Why should York Taylor care what Hank Sinclair did to her? "I appreciate your concern." "I must be on my way." York reached for the screen door handle, then turned to face Kate. "If you do decide to sell Paradise, Kate, I'd like the opportunity to buy it from you." "I'm not going to sell Paradise." It wasn't Kate York was concerned about, it was Paradise Ranch. "Sinclair will be unhappy to hear that." York stood very still, his hand on the screen handle, his back stiff and tense. "If, at any time, I can be of assistance to you, don't hesitate to call me." Before Kate could find an answer to that, a pickup truck pulled into the yard, and stopped beside the Chrysler. Hank Sinclair stepped from

the truck, strode across the yard, and pulled on the screen door. "I need to talk to you, Kate McClure." He would have yanked the door open if York had not held on to the handle. When he realized who was on the other side of the screen, Hank's mouth shaped into a nasty little grin. "Well, well, if it isn't Saint Agnes's most prominent citizen. What are you doing here?" Kate's temper flared. Hank had a nerve, greeting her guest with such rudeness. "Mr. Taylor is my guest, Mr. Sinclair. He is here at my invitation." The lie rolled off her tongue with appalling ease. York stepped aside, and without waiting for an invitation, Hank came through the door. "You and I have business to discuss." Ignoring his outburst, Kate spoke to York. "Thank you for coming by. I appreciate your concern." "I'll give you a call soon." York nodded in Hank's direction. "See you around, Sinclair."

"Yeah, sure." Over the roar of the Chrysler's powerful motor, Hank demanded. "What was he doing here?" "He came..." Kate stopped. She owed Hank no explanation. "It was a social call." Why had she lied? Why hadn't she told Hank to mind his own business? Caustically, Hank intoned, "I'll bet." "Why don't you sit down?" Kate extended her hand in the direction of the couch. "Your cow and calf are in the barn. I didn't really intend to keep them." Midway across the room Hank stopped. "This is not about that damn cow." He spun on his heel and glared at her. "Why don't we cut all this crap, and get down to business?" "You don't have to be rude." "I'm not being rude!"

"You're shouting," Kate reminded him. Hank's voice dropped. "I'm not shouting." "Would you like to sit down?" A little thread of fear laced itself up Kate's backbone. "We can work this out." She didn't want, couldn't afford, a lawsuit. Hank sat on the couch and laid his hat on the cushion beside him. He was making a concentrated effort to hold onto his temper. "You think so, huh? Tell me how." The chair York had sat in was still warm when Kate eased down on it. "I don't know how. I guess that's what we have to talk about." "I don't want to drag this out." Little sparks of fire shot from the green of his eyes. "I need a place to run my cows. Tell me what it's going to cost me." Suddenly, she was seeing Jim's face, hearing Jim's voice."I don't want to drag this out, Kate. I want

my freedom. Tell me what it's going to cost me." She had begged then."Please, Jim, darling, can't we work this out?"Pushing down a spiraling anger, Kate reminded herself that the past was her own personal agony, and had nothing to do with now. "I don't understand what you're asking." "God damn it." Hank stopped, and took a deep breath. "I'm offering to buy Paradise. How much?" He turned to stare toward the fireplace. Studying his grim profile, Kate thought he looked like a picture from a post office wanted poster. "Paradise is not for sale." His sharp retort caused her to recoil. "Everybody has a price, damn it. Name yours." "I told you, Paradise is not for sale." Hank ran angry fingers through his tousled hair. "Woman, you are trying my patience. I told you to name your price." Kate grasp one of her hands with the other, and

noticed, as she looked down, that they were shaking. "And I told you, Paradise is not for sale." "You don't belong here. Why don't you take your mother, and go back to the city where you came from?" All of her life Kate had hated confrontations. As she spoke, she felt a knot of anxiety tie itself inside her stomach. "Paradise is all the home I have. I don't intend to go anywhere." "That's your final answer?" Hank strode across the floor, and leaned against the wall. "Are you ready to pay me for the improvements that Dad added to Paradise?" "I don't have that kind of money, Mr. Sinclair." Kate extended her hand toward the couch. "If you will sit down, maybe we can work something out." "Like what?" He made no effort to move. "I need this place to run my cattle. Can we talk lease?" "I don't think so." "How much does your decision to be pigheaded

have to do with York Taylor?" Hank shifted his weight, and stood with his feet far apart. "You can't intimidate me into leasing Paradise to you." "You got a better idea?" He bit the words out in little monosyllables. The idea that sprang, full blown, into Kate's head was so simple she wondered why she hadn't thought of it long ago, and so daring, she was reluctant to give it utterance. "Do you know what a share cropper is, Mr. Sinclair?" He looked like he might explode. "What the hell does that have to do with me leasing Paradise?" "If you will sit down and listen, I will try to explain." The fear in Kate's stomach knotted a little tighter. "Do I have a choice?" "Not really."

He retraced his steps, and sat down on the couch. "That's what I figured. Shoot." Kate took a deep breath, then expelled it slowly. "Why don't I agree to you running your stock on my place for a percentage of the increase, sort of like a share cropper?" Wary as an animal being forced into a pen, Hank asked, "How much of the profit?" "Don't share croppers get a fourth of the crops they grow?" Kate rubbed her sweaty hands together, waited and watched. A bevy of emotions chased themselves across his face. "Those share croppers do a hell of a lot of hard work." "I'd be willing to work," A flicker of hope fanned through her fear. "I'd be willing to work hard." "Doing what," Hank asked. "Whatever the other cowboys do."

"Can you ride a horse?" "Sure I can." Kate lied again, this time with difficulty. She had never been on a horse in her life. "Not that I've got a lot of choice, but it just might be the answer." Hank put his hat on his head, and shoved it down. "Somebody has to ride around this place every day, to check the herds in different pastures, and look for broken fences and check the spotter bulls. Would you be willing to do that? It would free a man to do more important things." What, Kate wondered, was a spotter bull? She didn't dare ask. "Sure, I could do that. And I would get one forth of the increase of the cows you run on Paradise?" "I must be crazy." Hank pushed his hat back and scratched his head. "I must be out of my mind." Kate ventured, "It would solve our problems." "I doubt that. Are you sure you want to do this?" "Oh, I want to." Kate was on her feet. "But I

don't have a horse." "I'll send one over with Billy Jack when he comes to get the cow and calf. This has to be done legally. We will have to draw up a contract." Kate was quick to agree. "When?" "I'm going to Saint Agnes Monday to the auction. I can pick you up, and we can sign the papers then. I'll call my attorney tonight." Hank seemed as relieved as Kate felt. Kate didn't dare speak, for fear she would say something that would cause him to change his mind. She nodded her agreement. "I'll see you Monday about eight o'clock." Hank pushed the screen open. "Be ready. I don't like to wait." Kate called after him, "Mr. Sinclair?" Turning, he frowned. "Call me Hank. We're partners now."

"Hank?" She drew a long breath, "Send a gentle horse." "Sure I will." His laughter mingled with the soft night breezes. Dust was still settling in the yard when Belle came from the kitchen. "If you don't beat all." "Mamma, do you know how to ride a horse?" Kate asked, then answered her own question. "Of course you do. You're going to have to teach me." "A real caution." Belle's dimples deepened. "Mamma, damn it, do you know how to ride a horse?" "Don't swear, Kate. All you have to do is get up in the saddle, and hang on." "Mamma, it's not that simple and you know it." "I'll help you. You can do it. Now go to bed and get some rest. You must be dead on your feet."

"I have to write to Michael first. Do you think we could get Cody to put up a mail box before he leaves?" Kate wondered if she should tell Michael about her deal with Hank. She decided she wouldn't. It was time she learned to stand on her own two feet. "Good night," Belle called. "Mamma?" "What Katie baby?" "Do you think I should write to Suzie?" It was a while before Belle answered, and when she did it was with a question. "Do you want to?" "With all my heart." "When was it ever a mistake to follow your heart?" It was all the encouragement Kate needed. She would swallow her pride, and do what she should have done long ago, reach out to her estranged

daughter.

CHAPTER FOUR

Kate was careful to keep the tone of Michael's letter light. She began by saying that she and Belle had made a safe journey to Paradise. She assured him the movers had come and gone, and everything was in place in the house. Then after inquiring politely about Sharon, Kate closed. She thought, as she licked the envelope, and pressed the flap down with the heel of her hand, that she could have been penning a note to a complete stranger. Would Michael see that between the lines she was pleading with him to answer soon? "Let it be a pleasant reply, not an angry reprimand." Michael had not wanted Kate and Belle to move

to Paradise in the first place. "Mom, I don't like the idea of two old women living alone so far from civilization. Does Dad know what you're planning to do?" Kate had bit her tongue to keep from answering that with a bitter tirade against Jim. She hadn't seen her ex-husband in almost a year, and her son was asking if she had discussed her plans for the future with him. "You told me your father is on a cruise in the Caribbean." "He'll be home next week. Why don't you wait and discuss this with him?" "Your father has a new wife and a new life." The pity she saw in Michael's eyes, made her add, "I doubt that Jim wants to see me and I know I don't want to see him." "You're wrong about Dad, Mom. He asks about you often, and he's told me several times that he would like very much for the two of you to be friends." The idea that Jim would tell Michael he wanted

to be Kate's friend after throwing her out of the house and divorcing her, then marrying Lila, made Kate's blood boil. It took few moments for she bring that anger under control. "Grandma and I are moving to Paradise, Michael. We have no other choice." Michael was seated behind the desk in his office. He pushed his chair back and sighed. "This is not a choice, it's a whim." Kate had never mentioned her financial difficulties to her son. She had not wanted to burden him with her troubles. Maybe it was time he knew the facts. " If I stay in Dallas, I will have to apply for food stamps and go on welfare. I don't want to do that." "What about your divorce settlement? Surely you haven't spent all that." "All that?" Kate raised a caustic eyebrow. Her divorce settlement had been a miserable pittance. "Do you know how much my divorce settlement was?"

"I can't believe Dad was anything but generous." Michael raised one hand in a resigned gesture. "But if that's gone, I can contribute some to your support, and I'm sure Dad will help, when he knows you are destitute of circumstances." The urge to tell Michael how Jim had used every underhanded legal trick in the book to hold on to all but a small fraction of their mutual financial assets, was overpowering, but Kate held her tongue. Through this entire ordeal, she had never once derided Jim to Michael. The one time she had voiced questions about Jim's integrity had been to Suzie, and Kate had lived to regret that error in judgment. "I don't want a handout. I want to make it on my own." "Maybe," Michael recognized that Kate was becoming more and more upset, "Dad or I could help you find employment." "I've had four jobs in the past six months," Kate explained, wearily. "None of them paid a living wage, and I'm unemployed now. I have no training, no marketable skill. All I have is

Paradise." "You can come and live with Sharon and me," Michael offered. "Thank you, Michael. You are very kind, but I don't want to live with you and Sharon. I want a life of my own." Michael stood and shook his head from side to side. "I can't believe Grandma is going along with this hair-brained scheme." Should she tell him that this hair-brained scheme had been his grandma's idea in the first place? The smile in her eyes never reached her lips. "Grandma doesn't like living at Cedar's." Michael gasped in surprise. "Why not? It's an excellent facility. I must have checked a dozen retirement homes before I suggested Grandma move to Cedar's. It has everything a senior citizen could want." "Everything except a challenge, and you know how Grandma loves a challenge."

"Paradise sounds more like a disaster." Michael quipped. "And I won't be a part of it. If you and Grandma go, you're on your own." "That's exactly as it should be." Kate wondered why Michael should be so willing to help her if she stayed in Dallas, and so ready to abandon her if she moved to Paradise. Her voice gentled. "I would like to have your approval." "Mom, Ican't approve such an unwise move." Her son's pained expression was breaking her heart. "Then will you at least try to understand?" Michael came around his desk and grabbed Kate in a bear hug. "I'm trying, Mom, and in a way, I do. I know none of what has happened over the past two years has been easy for you." That was an understatement! "Try not to worry." Kate gave Michael a little peck on his cheek. "Grandma and I will be fine. I promise I'll write you as soon as we get settled in our new home."

And now Kate had fulfilled that promise. She laid her pen down, and flexed her fingers as a feeling of despair washed over her. She could no longer avoid the ordeal of penning a letter to Suzie. What could she possibly say to the daughter who had not spoken to her for over a year? Kate suspected that much of Suzie's animosity sprang from guilt. Lila had been Suzie's college roommate. Jim would never have met her if Suzie hadn't brought her home for a weekend visit. Lila was a graduate student, several years older than Suzie, and Kate sensed immediately, not a good influence on her daughter. Some of Lila's avant garde ideas about life had shocked Kate to the core. "I hope you don't concur with that girl's notion that premarital sex is all right," Kate told Suzie, as they were making dinner the day after Suzie and Lila arrived home. "Please, Mom," Suzie laid her finger across her lips. "She might hear you." "She's well out of ear shot," Kate answered. "And she's too taken with your father to pay attention to

the likes of me." Suzie took silverware from a drawer. "Mom, you're jealous." Kate remembered how she had laughed at that. "I just don't approve of your roommate. That girl is wise beyond her years. I'm surprised that the two of you are such good friends." "Lila warned me this might happen." Suzie turned from her task of stacking plates to look at her mother. This manipulating female wielded far too much influence over her daughter, Kate opened the oven to peek at her rib roast. "What might happen?" "Lila said you might resent us being such good friends. I told her how close you and I have always been." Kate straightened, and turned to stare in bewildered surprise at Suzie. "I am not jealous of Lila, and I don't resent her."And she hadn't been,

not then. The jealously, the resentment, the recriminations all came later. I should have thrown her out that first day, Kate thought. But she hadn't, and hindsight, as accurate as it was, was useless. The heavy tread of sorrow trekked across Kate's mind as she picked up her pen, and began to write. Dear Suzie, Grandma and I... She crossed out the words. Dear Suzanne, I hope you... That wasn't right, either. Suzie's face drifted across the mirror of Kate's memory, those big brown eyes filled with tears, that sweet young mouth quivering. "Mom, why won't you divorce Dad?" Jim had asked Kate to leave only days before. She was staying with friends, and she knew they could hear right through the walls. "If your father wants a divorce, he can sue for it. I don't want to divorce him, so why should I?" Even then, Kate realized this was not the time to have this conversation with her daughter. She was so hurt, so raw emotionally, that clear thinking was impossible.

"I hope you will reconsider." Tears stood in Suzie's eyes. "Dad is trying to do what's best for everyone concerned." Hurt beyond measure, Kate lashed out, "Is that what he told you?" She couldn't believe her daughter was taking Jim's side in this matter. "Dad is suffering too, Mom. He feels terrible about what's happened." Her words ignited Kate's smoldering temper. "After the way he's behaved, how can you believe anything that man says?" "Mom," Suzie protested, "He's not, 'that man', he's my father." Again, Kate interrupted, "And I'm only your mother." Never before had she felt so betrayed. It was one thing for her husband to abandon her, it was quite another for her only daughter to forsake her. Kate flew into a rage, and said things she didn't mean, terrible, scathing, unforgivable things, and in the end, she had alienated her

daughter. Suzie's hand shook as she brushed tears from her eyes. "Dad's right. You are stubborn and unreasonable. Why can't you accept the inevitable and let Dad go?" She had run from the room, and out of Kate's life. Kate hadn't seen or spoken to her daughter since that day. With a resigned sigh, Kate got a tighter grip on her pen, and reached for a new sheet of paper.

Dear Suzanne, Grandma and I are living on Paradise Ranch now. We miss you, and would like to hear from you. Regards, Mom

She slipped the note into an envelope, and addressed the outside, but she didn't seal it. She wanted Belle to read what she had written. A sudden and agonizing question floated across Kate's mind. Was she that unsure of herself? Couldn't she write a note to her own daughter without seeking her mother's approval? Her fingers flicked the gas jet on the gasoline lantern, plunging the room into darkness. With the ebony silence, came the grim answer. Yes, she was. Kate undressed in the dark, and tumbled into bed. "Go to sleep," she told herself, "Tomorrow will be a busy day." The next morning, after breakfast, over coffee, Kate took the envelope from her pocket, and pushed it across the table toward her mother. "I wrote Suzie a letter. I want you to read it." Belle cut her eyes toward Cody who was studying the contents of his coffee cup in apparent disinterest. "Suzie's Kate's daughter. They had a fight." Cody poured coffee into his saucer. "Maybe they can set things right." He tipped the saucer to his

mouth and drank the contents. "There's nothing worse than families feuding." Belle scanned the note. "At least you didn't ask for her forgiveness." "I thought about it." Kate swallowed around the lump in her throat. "I wanted to." "You don't owe your daughter an apology." Belle folded the paper, and put it back inside the envelope. "I think I do, Mamma. I said terrible things to Suzie." "Suzie's behavior was unforgivable. She got exactly what she deserved."" Belle pushed the envelope toward Kate. "You can't protect Suzie, or Michael from the hard knocks that life hands out, Kate. Try as you might, you can't." She pushed her chair back. "I'm going to help Cody put up a mailbox today. When you go to St. Agnes Monday, you can stop by the post office and find out our route and box number."

"Do you want to write something to Suzie?" "What I have to say to my granddaughter," Belle's face was bleak. "I will say to her in person, when I see her again." Cody helped himself to the last biscuit. "Anybody else want a biscuit?" He didn't wait for a reply. "Good, I'll finish this last one off." Breaking the biscuit open, he spread a liberal pat of margarine inside. "It's a pity you ladies don't have a cow. You have plenty of pasture. Margarine can't compare to butter." He bit into the biscuit, and smiled. "Kate, your mamma does know how to make biscuits." Belle's dimples creased her face. "Cody wants you to call for his mail when you go to the post office." "If you don't mind, that is." Cody swallowed the last crumb of his biscuit, and dusted his hand across his whiskers. "Just ask for mail for Cody Carter. My social security check should be there. I have friends in Big Springs, that's my hometown, who put my check in a plain envelope, and send it

to me every month." "We owe you for three days' work." The thought that Cody would soon be leaving caused Kate an undue amount of regret. "If I could afford to, I'd offer you a job, Cody. You have been a life saver." Cody's face wreathed in a smile. "Your mamma and I sat in the kitchen last night and heard the deal you made with Hank Sinclair." Cody sent Belle a knowing glance. "We've been talking, and I think maybe your mamma and I have a deal too." Surprise caused Kate's head to snap back. "What kind of deal?" "A good deal," Belle chimed in, "Cody is willing to stay here and work for a part of the profit from Paradise." What was this? Mamma and Cody making deals? "There may not be any profit, Cody. I'm not even sure I can keep my part of the bargain I made with Hank. I agreed to ride around Paradise every

day, and I can't even ride a horse." "I can teach you that, in a short while." Cody's voice took on a somber note. "You and Belle can't make it here without some help." Kate's growing suspicion was, that those words were true. "It's such a risky venture. We can't promise you anything." "I know who I can trust," Cody answered. "But I'm not sure you do. Take, for instance, this contract you agreed to sign with Hank. Who's going to draw it up?" "You know who, Hank's lawyer." Mamma had some nerve, discussing their business with a total stranger. Kate caught her mother's eyes in a hard gaze, and was rewarded with a deliberately blank stare. It was enough to tell her that Belle was the instigator of this 'deal' with Cody. "You and Mamma have already talked this over, haven't you?" Cody smiled. "Your mamma and I speak the same language."

The complicated looks these two were exchanging said maybe they had done more than talk. "Are you going to sign that agreement?" Cody's strident question pulled Kate's thoughts back to the discussion at hand. "I don't think I have a choice." Why did Kate have the urge to give her mother a good shake? "Just like that? First pop out of the bottle." Cody snapped his fingers into the still air. "Without even reading it?" Kate fumed, "Of course I'll read the damn thing before I sign it." "Kate, don't swear," Belle scolded. "And will you understand all that lawyer jargon?" Cody asked. "Probably not all of it." Kate was reluctant to admit her own folly in not having thought of this

herself. "Are you suggesting that you come along with me and read it?" "Oh, no. I don't know anything about legal matters. Belle and I think you should ask your banker friend to look at it." Kate lifted one eyebrow. "You and Belle, huh?" Cody's silver eyes fairly shimmered. "That's right, me and Belle." "Are you sure you want to tie yourself down this way, Cody? You've been on the road for a long time." "I never found anything worth staying for before." Cody looked directly at Belle. "I think now, I have." Belle brushed imaginary crumbs from the table. "Cody wants to build a little rack for his camper. He can sleep there, and we can use the pick up around the place. We thought we'd start building the rack today."

"There's a lot of building material behind the barn." The way Cody looked at Belle spoke volumes. "Belle says it's what's left over from building the barn and loading chutes." He licked his lips. "Your mamma's a very smart woman." "Too smart, sometimes." Good Lord, Kate thought, the man is completely besotted, and Mamma is encouraging him. "Let's do the dishes, Mamma." "You do the dishes. Kate. I'm going to help Cody." Belle stood, and dusted her jeans. "I'll get a bucket of water for the dishes." Cody picked up a bucket from the sink and stepped out the back door with Lady at his heels. Before Belle could follow, Kate grabbed her arm. "What the hell is going on here, Mamma?" "I don't know what you mean, Katie baby, and don't swear." "Don't you 'Katie baby' me, don't tell me not to swear, and don't play dumb. You know exactly

what I mean." Kate held on to Belle's arm. "What doyou mean, carrying on with Cody this way? You have him acting like a love sick school boy. What happened to, 'He may be a serial killer'?" Belle laid her hand over Kate's fingers. "Cody makes me feel like a warm-blooded woman. Nobody's made me feel like that in a long time." Belle's soft words hit Kate with the impact of a physical blow. "You're serious, aren't you Mamma?" "I don't want Cody to leave, so I found a way to keep him here." "And from the looks of things, he wasn't hard to persuade." Kate squeezed her mother's hand. "I'm glad he's staying, too Mamma." "You might take a lesson from your old mamma." Belle returned Kate's squeeze. "You have two eligible men right under your nose. Don't you like either one of them?" "Mamma, honestly!"

"It's time you quit feeling married to a man who is not coming back." Belle pulled the screen door open. "I've been down that road too, Kate, and it's a dead end street. The future is all you have now, and it's looking good." "I know, Mamma." But Kate doubted her mother's bright prediction. Her heart had taught her to guard against hope. Belle sent her daughter a skeptical look, but she didn't pursue the subject. "Make a grocery list, Kate." Belle held the door open for Cody, then waited as Lady hopped in behind him. "And go by the utility company when you get to St. Agnes tomorrow. The meter loop is ready for inspection." Cody set the bucket on the table. "I'm going to fix this cabinet tomorrow, Belle, just after we lay off a plot for a garden." He scanned the cabinet with a knowledgeable eye. Belle was still holding the screen open. "Thank goodness you decided to stay." She stepped out

the back door, and Cody followed. Over the door's slam, Belle said, "I think maybe we should plant a row or two of pole beans. I do love pole beans." "I'm partial to pintos myself, " Cody answered. "And how about some..." The voices grew faint, then faded away. Kate began to stack dishes. "Mamma has a boy friend," she told Lady, who had chosen to curl up in the corner rather than trot at Cody's heels. "And even you are smart enough to know that three's a crowd." Lady laid her head between her paws, and put her ears back. "Are you smiling at me?" Kate narrowed her eyes in the dog's direction. "You shouldn't be, you know. Someone is stealing your master's affection." Suddenly, it surfaced, a stab of pain that vanished almost as soon as it appeared, leaving in its wake,

the lingering ache of regret. Lady's wagging tail thumped the floor. Kate stacked dishes in the sink. "Don't complain. It's your own fault." The rest of the day passed in a busy flurry. Kate wondered if life was always this busy on a ranch, and found herself hoping that it was. The next morning, she woke early, and remembered that Hank would be here soon. Hopping out of bed, she began to dress. "Did you make a list of all the things you have to do in St. Agnes?" Belle asked, as Kate came into the living room, and sat beside her on the couch. "I made a list, Mamma." Kate patted the brief case that lay in her lap. "It's in here." "Do you have my power of attorney?" "In here, Mamma." At least one good thing had come from Mamma going to Cedar's to live. The

home had advised that Belle make a will and give her next of kin power of attorney. "Thanks to Cedar's." "Cedar's," Belle snorted. "I am so glad to be out of that place." "Michael thought Cedar's was one of the best retirement homes around." Kate glanced at the clock on the mantle, and wished that Hank would put in an appearance. "The trouble with retirement homes," Belle reasoned, illogically, "is you have to retire from the living, to live there." "And you weren't that old?" "Age is not a matter of years, it's a matter of perspective." Belle's dimples creased the sides of her face. "This morning I feel about sixteen." "Mamma? You haven't done something foolish, have you? " "That depends on what you call foolish."

"Mamma! You and Cody didn't...?" "Don't look so shocked. I haven't done anything illegal, or even immoral." Kate didn't know if she should scold Mamma, or compliment her. "I don't know if I should leave you and Cody here by yourselves." Belle chose to ignore that remark. "Did you put, 'go to the post office' on that list?" "It's on the list. Mamma, and don't change the subject." "Did you put corn meal on the grocery list?" Belle's voice was as guileless as a child's. "I'm going to make some cornbread tomorrow. Would you like to have some homemade cornbread, Kate?" "I would like to have a straight answer, Mamma. What the hell are you up to?" "Don't swear, Kate. And don't forget to call for

Cody's mail when you go to the post office." "Mamma, honestly." There was no dealing with Mamma when she chose to short circuit Kate's questions. With a groan of exasperation, Kate threw both hands in the air."What's the use? I'll get Cody's mail." "And pick up a newspaper? Not a San Antonio paper; Cody likes to read the St. Agnes Weekly." Kate asked, with cold sarcasm, "Is there anything else you want me to do for Cody, Mamma?" "No, thank you." Belle's smile was enigmatic. "Anything else Cody needs, I can provide. Right now, I'm going to make him a pan of biscuits." After letting out a shocked, "Mamma!" Kate added, "You know the old adage, Mamma, about there's no fool like an old fool? You might want to think about that." Belle stood and stretched. "Isn't that a coincidence? You remind me of an old adage."

"Don't start, Mamma." "It takes one to catch one, Katie baby." Over the roar of an approaching vehicle, Belle added, "Your ride's here. See you later." As Belle's slim back disappeared through the kitchen door, Kate picked up her brief case and started outside. She hadn't won an argument with Belle in forty-six years, Why should she think she could start now? Kate stepped through the front door to see Hank's battered pickup stopping in the yard. She smiled to herself. She had been wrong again. The pickup was a Chevrolet. As she reached for the door, Hank gunned the motor. The sudden noise made Kate jump. She yanked the door open. "You are one impatient man." "I'm a little late. I unloaded a horse for you. He's in the barn. I left my trailer there. I can pick up the cow and calf when we get back from Saint Agnes."

Kate's heart began to beat a little faster. "Is the horse gentle?" She studied Hank's unyielding profile. "You promised me a gentle horse." Hank glanced briefly toward her. "You're wearing a dress. That's nice." Kate asked again, this time with much more force. "Is the horse gentle?" "Yes, he's gentle. I expect you to take good care of him. He's a quarter horse, a gelding, out of Wheeler stock. Do you know anything about horses?" She knew they ate oats and hay, and had four legs. "A little." "A damn little, I'll bet." Hank braked the pickup, and waited for Kate to open the gate. As she got back in the car, Hank noted, "You put up a mail box." "Mamma and Cody did that, yesterday."

"The box has three names on it. Does that mean the old man's going to stay?" "Yes. Not," Kate added, over the click of her seat belt, "that it's any of your business." They rode for several minutes in tense silence. Feeling an urgent need to say something, Kate asked, "What kind of trees are those?" She pointed to the huge trees that grew along the fence row. "Oaks. They grow from little acorns." Kate slid down into the seat. "You're not funny." From out of the blue, Hank observed, "He must have been a real bastard." That remark pulled Kate upright in a hurry. "Who?" "Your ex-husband, who else?" "Don't tell me you're psychic." Kate pierced him

a stabbing glance. "Maybe I am. Maybe I'm just perceptive. What did he do to you, or is that none of my business, either?" "What makes you think he did anything?" Kate moved around in her seat. He was making her uncomfortable. "Lady, you've got a chip on your shoulder a yard wide." Kate wasn't about to discuss Jim with a complete stranger. "Mr. Sinclair..." Boldly, he interrupted, "Hank." "Hank, I haven't pried into your past, so why..." Again he interrupted. "Go ahead, ask anything you want to ask. My life's an open book." And probably a dirty one, Kate thought. "And in turn I tell you the sordid details of my messy divorce?" She thinned her lips, and glared at him.

"You tricked me." In an effort to change the subject, she asked, "You're going to an auction?" An exasperating little half-smile clung to his lips. "It's First Monday." "Does First Monday have some special significance?" "The first Monday of every month Saint Agnes has a farm sale. It's like an outdoor market. Sellers set up, lookers look, buyers buy." "Are you a buyer or a looker or a seller?" "At times I've been all three. Today I'm a looker, definitely, a buyer, maybe. Would you like to come with me?" "I don't know," Why should she feel a sudden tingle of elation? "I have errands to run in St. Agnes. I thought I'd get them done while you were at the auction. And we do have to sign that agreement. That's going to take quite a bit of time because..." Kate stopped, her words levitating in midair.

"Because why?" There was no easy way to break it to him. "Because Mamma and Cody think I should have York Taylor look over the agreement before I sign it." She watched Hank's face for some sign of surprise or anger. She saw only a kind of resigned amusement. "And what do you think?" Kate shrugged to cover her confusion. "I think you think I don't trust you." "Do you?" "Should I?" Kate countered. His fleeting side glance locked into the blue of her eyes. "Did you ever consider that I might have that same problem?" Hank's tone was flippant, but underneath that easy going facade Kate suspected there lurked a man who knew what he wanted, and went after it, no-holds-barred.

"But you have an attorney. The only one in town, I believe." "Who told you that?" Kate spoke before she thought. "York did." Then bit her tongue at her own stupidity. "And you do trust York Taylor." Kate ran nervous fingers around her briefcase. "I trust myself, and Mamma, sometimes." Hank pulled into a parking space in front of the attorney's office. "Yep, he must have been a real bastard."

CHAPTER FIVE

Kate had never been to a First Monday sale.

What she saw intrigued her. The parking lot around the auction barn teemed with vendors. Most of the sellers conducted business from the back of a pickup, letting down the tail gate to better display their wares. "This place has the air of a celebration," she told Hank, as she unfastened her seat belt. The smell of fresh baked pastries, mixed with the less aromatic odor of livestock of every size and description, made Kate wrinkle her nose. "And smells like a rodeo, and looks like a giant flea market." Her eyes sparkled as they swept to take in the panoramic scene. "Or a three-ring circus." Hank caught her hand in his. "You haven't seen anything yet." His fingers reached all the way around her hand, making escape impossible. As they moved from stall to stall, Hank was greeted by back slapping and loud hellos from men, and smiles and coy looks from women. "Look." Kate pointed to a line of jars that decorated the tailgate of a pickup. "Pickled beets.

Mamma loves pickled beets." She broke from Hank's grasp and hurried toward the display. "I'm going to buy a jar for Mamma." "You look like a kid in a toy store." Hank teased. Kate met his warm scrutiny. "That's how I feel. I don't know when I've had so much to look at in so small a space." She pointed to the next stall. "Look, fresh cut flowers, daisies, and cannas, and gladiolus. Mamma and I used to grow daisies in a window box when I was a little girl. I have to buy a bouquet of daisies." "Whoa," Hank pulled her to a stop. "Let's get the pickled beets first, then we can bargain for the flowers." "Bargain?" Kate questioned, "I don't understand." "Watch. I'll show you how it's done." Hank sauntered to the tailgate of the pickup that displayed the beet pickles. An elderly woman was seated in a folding chair beside the display. "Howdy, Mrs. Smith."

Mrs. Smith put her farm journal down, and pushed her glasses up on her head. "Hello, Hank. How's your Aunt Catherine?" Hank picked up a squatty pint container. "She's doing much better, thank you Ma'am." Perusing the label on the container, he asked, "Is this some of your famous corn relish?" "You tell your aunt I asked after her, you hear? That's tomato relish. I put it up myself, just a few weeks ago." Kate was set to tell Hank she wanted the pickled beets, not the tomato relish. A slight shake of his head cautioned her to keep her mouth shut. "Yes Ma'am, I'll tell her. Is this tomato relish hot or sweet?" Hank held the jar up to the sun. "I have both. It says on the label. You can choose which you want." Hank set the jar back down. "How much?" "Two dollars a jar, for anything here. The woman

waved her hand around. "That's a real bargain." "That sounds reasonable." Hank picked up another jar, and held it to the sun. "I do believe this is watermelon rind preserves." "Yes it is. Cousin Effie put that up. She's famous for her watermelon rind preserves." Mrs. Smith beamed with pride. "My Mother used to make watermelon rind preserves." Hank set the jar down. "How much?" "It's two dollars, just like everything else." Hank picked up the beet pickles and studied the contents as he turned the jar in his hand. "Would you take three dollars for two jars?" "Lord, you're just like your papa. How about three-fifty?" The woman pulled her glasses back down on her nose. "You drive a hard bargain." Hank put his hands in his pockets and smiled. "Is that your last word?"

"Uh huh, just like your papa. I remember he could charm the birds right out of the trees with his smooth talk and sweet smile. That's my rock-bottom price." "Just how well did you know my papa?" Hank asked, as he pulled a five-dollar bill from his pocket. "I'll take one jar of beet pickles, and one jar of watermelon rind preserves." He handed the woman the money. "Well enough to know he would bear watching." Mrs. Smith began to count change. "I don't know how I'm going to explain to Cousin Effie how she came up twenty-five cents shy." As she wrapped the jars in newspapers, the woman cast questioning glances in Kate's direction. She put the wrapped jars in a plastic bag. "You tell your Aunt Catherine that we remember her in our prayers." Hank hung the bag over one arm, and offered the other to Kate. "Yes Ma'am, I will."

They had rounded a corner, and were nearing the huge auction barn when Kate glanced over her shoulder, then exploded in gales of laughter. "What a con artist you are! And I just signed a five-year contract with you." "I like the way you laugh." Hank pointed with his free hand. "There's a café behind the auction barn. I'm taking you to lunch." Kate asked, "Your treat?" "Of course it's my treat. And you won't believe the steaks they have in here." "After what I saw back there, I'm not sure I should believe you, period." Kate hooked her hand through Hank's arm. "Your treat? let's go." The restaurant swarmed with people. A steady stream of friends stopped at Hank's table to speak and exchange pleasantries. After introducing Kate to each passer by, Hank chatted amiably. The talk was of crops, and cows, the weather and federal subsidies. Nothing that Kate could discuss with any degree of authority, so she sat, silent and

smiling, until the procession stopped. "You're a very popular person." Kate observed, as the last passerby wandered away, and the waitress neared their table. "It's because they want to meet you," Hank put his elbow on the table, and set his chin in his hand. "I'm beginning to understand why." "I feel like I'm on display." Hank lifted his head, and dropped his arm. "You are." A pert little waitress with pad in hand, and pencil poised, appeared and asked, "Are you ready to order?" Hank scanned the menu. "Mindy, this is Kate McClure my new neighbor. Kate, Mindy Morgan." "Hello, Mindy," Kate unfolded her napkin and laid it across her lap.

Mindy examined the fine point of her pencil before blurting out, "Gosh, your hair is red. Is it natural?" Kate's hand flew to rake through her hair. "Yes it is." "Would you like a steak?" Hank struggled to keep the smile that pulled at his lips from blossoming into a full-blown laugh. "Why don't you order for me?" Kate bit her lip to keep from smiling. As Hank conversed with the waitress, Kate looked around the crowded room and realized many people in the restaurant were staring at her. She wondered how Hank could be so nonchalant. As Mindy moved away, Kate leaned across the table and whispered, "I feel like someone from another planet." Before Hank could reply, Mindy returned with two cups of coffee. "Are you related to the McClures over at Spring Branch?"

"No. I don't think so." Kate stirred her coffee. Hank ordered steaks and salad. They ate in contented silence. Kate found herself enjoying the meal. Over a final cup of coffee, Hank asked, "Would you like some dessert?" "I think I would, a slice of pecan pie." As Mindy passed the table, Hank called out, "Hey Mindy, two pieces of pecan pie over here." Mindy nodded, "Coming right up." The woman who came to stand beside the table, seemed to have materialized from thin air. She said, in a breathy little voice. "Hello, Hank." Without waiting for an invitation, she pulled out a chair, and sat down. "Hi, Gina. Why don't you join us?" A touch of irony edged Hank's soft words.

Hank made introductions. "Gina, Kate McClure. Kate, Gina Morton." Kate dropped her eyes, as realized that she was the one who was staring now. Gina, a striking woman in her early thirties, was wearing designer jeans and a western shirt that was unbuttoned to reveal the beginning of an enormous amount of cleavage. Her jet black hair hung in waves down her back. The woman was gorgeous. "Hello, Gina." Immense brown eyes surveyed Kate critically. "You must be new around here." Hank cleared his throat. "Kate and I were about to have dessert. Would you care to join us?" He seemed obvious to Gina's hostile stare. "Coffee, black," Gina snapped. "I didn't expect to see you today," Hank told Gina, as Mindy appeared with coffee and pie. Gina raised a well-defined eyebrow. "I can

believe that." "Coffee for Gina," Hank ordered. Gina grasped the sides of the table. "I tried to call you. Billy Jack said you were gone." She laid a possessive hand on Hank's arm. Did she think Kate was designs on Hank? Kate could disabuse her of that idea in short order. "Hank and I are business associates. We signed a lease agreement this morning." "Kate and her mother own Paradise." Hank didn't look too happy at Kate's revelation about their business deal. Gina's fingers pleated the checkered table cloth. "The spread between you and York Taylor? I thought that was a part of Circle S." "My mother leased the land to Marcus Sinclair for many years." Kate hurried to explain. Gina's dropped her hand to her lap and looked at Hank, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "I see."

She patted Hank's arm. "I have to go now. Call me soon, Hank, please." "How about your coffee?" "I've changed my mind. Don't forget to call." Gina pushed her chair back and stood to her feet. Hank agreed, almost too readily. "Sure, soon." Kate watched Gina disappear through a rear door of the restaurant before she took a sip of her coffee. She didn't want to pry, and Hank didn't seem inclined to offer an explanation. Let it go, she told herself. Hank Sinclair's personal life was no concern of yours. "The pie was delicious." "Would you like another piece?" "Goodness, no." Kate heaved a heavy sigh. "I couldn't eat another bite." Hank pushed his chair back. "Are you ready to go home?" "First I want to get Mamma a bouquet of

daisies." The fun of her excursion was gone. She must be dull company for Hank after he had been with the glamorous Gina. The man who sold her the flowers wrapped them in a wet newspaper. "That way they stay fresh longer." Kate dreaded the ride home. She wanted away from Hank as soon as possible. She put the flowers in the back of the pickup, and covered them with a paper bag, then got into the truck, and fastened her seat belt. Hank shifted the pickup into reverse. "You look a little weary. Are you tired?" "A little, but it was fun." Had she actually used the word fun? But it had been. "I want to bring Mamma and Cody here next First Monday." "Maybe we could make it a foursome." Hank braked his pickup at a stop sign, and looked both ways. "We'd have to come in a car." "I don't think so." Kate watched the stream of

cars pass by. "Why not?" With experienced ease, Hank pulled into the flow of traffic. "I thought you had fun." The man was her neighbor, He was going to be her business partner. She corrected herself, according to the terms of the contract she had just signed, he was going to be her boss. How could she tell him she wasn't interested in a personal relationship without making him angry or wounding his pride? "I don't date." Laughter rumbled in Hank's chest. "Date? You make us sound like a couple of teenagers." Maybe she should tell him she had been a teenager when she went on her last date. "I don't want to become involved." "I guess I'm dense," Hank protested. "I don't understand what you mean by involved." He was doing it again, twisting her words, and making her uncomfortable. "I'm not good at personal relationships."

"You seem to have a wonderful relationship with your mother." Kate snapped, "Oh, for heaven's sake. Mamma's the glue that holds that relationship together. I'm a good daughter, thanks to Mamma, but it ends there." He asked, almost impudently, "Who says?" "Me!" Kate jammed her forefinger into her chest. "I'm a failure as a mother, and I was a rotten wife." Those bitter words flew from her mouth before she could brake her runaway tongue. She sounded like she was wallowing in self pity. "How did we get on this subject?" "I asked you to come to the next First Monday sale with me, and you were making up some excuse for saying no. Have I done something to offend you?" "Of course not. Why would you think that?" He was too near the truth for comfort.

"I thought maybe you got the wrong idea about Gina and me." Kate didn't want to have this conversation. "Why don't we just forget it?" "Because I don't want to forget it." Hank's hand slapped the steering wheel. "That's it. You're peeved about Gina." If she explained, very carefully, maybe he would let go. "I am not peeved. I hardly know you. Why should anything in your personal life peeve me? And I don't have the wrong idea." "You sound peeved, and how do you know you don't have the wrong idea?" His knuckles were white from his tight grip on the steering wheel. "Will you stop with the cross examination?" Irritation was wiping away her resolve to remain aloof. "No. You've got something stuck in your craw. Why don't you spit it out?"

You asked for it, Kate thought, so here goes. "How old are you, Hank?" "What does that have to do with anything?" "Now who doesn't want to talk? It has everything to do with everything. Are you going to tell me how old you are?" "I'm fifty-two," His eyebrows met in a fierce frown. "Why?" "And Gina is thirty, thirty-one?" "She's thirty-four. What the hell are you getting at?" She was making him angry, but she didn't care anymore. "I know about younger women and older men." "I don't think you know anything about men, and very little about women." "I know Gina was shocked when she saw us together today. Then she was angry, and hurt.

Why, Hank?" "Ah, now we get down to specifics," That infuriating smile had returned to worry his lips. "and youare peeved." "I'm trying to tell you why I don't want to get involved. I am no competition for a woman like Gina." He had goaded her into saying too much. She turned to stare out the window. After a long pause, Hank asked, "Do you want to talk about it?" "About what?" "About your ex-husband and the other, much younger woman?" "I didn't say... Maybe you are psychic." They sped down the narrow road. The silence in the pickup sizzled. Finally Kate could take no more. She surprised herself by saying, "I've kept my sanity by not

thinking about it." She dug her teeth into her lower lip. "I can't talk about it." Hank shrugged. "Subject closed. But I want to explain about Gina, if you are willing to listen." "I can do that." "I'm not the first man to sleep with Gina, and I won't be the last." His blunt words shocked Kate into gulping silence. A brief smile in her direction told her that was what he intended to do. "We enjoy each other's company. I don't take anything she doesn't offer, willingly." Kate didn't know what she had expected, but it certainly wasn't Hank's frank admission that he occasionally slept with Gina Morton. "I hadn't thought of you as competition." The smile he sent her was nothing short of seductive. "Do you want to be?"

"That's not what I meant when I said competition." How had she gotten into this mess? "Whatdid you mean?" "Do you always go for the jugular?" Hank pulled the pickup to the side of the road, and set the emergency brake. "You are one uptight, perplexing lady. I don't know if you are coming on to me or telling me to get lost." "I'm not doing either." Surprise tilted Kate's voice. She decided to be honest. "Look, Hank, I don't know how to play this man-woman game. And even if I did I'm not sure I want to. I was eighteen years old when I married Jim. I dated..." she smiled, "yes, dated two other men -- no they were boys -- before I met Jim. We were married for twenty-five years. During that time I never looked at another man. Since Jim left me I've been too wounded to think about being with anyone else." Kate took a deep breath. "So if I'm sending conflicting signals, it's because I am as confused as I sound."

Some emotion she couldn't classify crept into his eyes, but he kept a straight, almost somber face. "How long ago did your husband walk out on you?" "Three years ago. And he didn't walk out, he threw me out." "So I was right, he's a bastard." "I used to think so. I'm not so sure anymore." Kate couldn't believe she was defending Jim. "The breakup wasn't all his fault. I should have seen it coming, all the signs were there, but I didn't." A flash of insight made Kate wonder, was that what she had been so afraid to admit all this time? That some of blame for the break up of her marriage rested with her? "You were faithful to one man for twenty-five years?" Hank's features softened. "That must be some kind of record." Bitterness gave Kate's reply an edge. "For all the

good it did me." "I owe you an apology. I thought you were playing hard to get, trying to arouse my interest." Kate snorted in an effort to stifle a laugh. Hank reached for the ignition, and gave the key a twist. The motor coughed and began to purr. "You think that's funny?" "No." Kate began, then recanted. "Yes, I do." "So now you're laughing at me?" The question was not an angry one. "No -- yes, in a way." Hank eased the pickup into gear, and pulled back onto the road. "Can't you make up your mind about anything?" "It's funny that someone like me could fool a man like you." "What do you mean, a man like me?"

"A man who knows about women. Most of that knowledge gained, I would guess, through experience." Kate snickered. "To me that's funny." "You have a weird sense of humor, Kate." She liked the way he said her name. "Hank, I do have one confession to make." "Some deep dark secret from your dirty past?" He was laughing at her admission of faithfulness, but she didn't mind. "Yes, and it's almost too terrible to admit. I lied to you." Hank's eyebrows climbed up his forehead. "About what?" They had stopped at the gate to Paradise. "I don't know how to ride a horse." Kate hopped from the car and raced for the gate. Hank's amused laughter followed her. As she got back into the pickup, Kate hastened to

say, "Cody has promised to teach me to ride, so I will keep my end of the bargain." "Have you ever been on a horse?" "No, but I've been close to several horses. I know I can ride one, if he's gentle." Kate sounded more confident than she felt. "How close were you to those horses?" "From the sidelines of a parade? But I'm a fast learner." Hank pulled off the road and drove toward the barn. "I have to load my cow and calf. While I'm here, I'll introduce you to Ringo." "Who is Ringo?" "The gelding I brought you to ride." Hank stopped his pickup. "Come on, let's go." Kate had to ask. "What's a gelding?" "A gelding's a steer," Hank slammed his pickup

door. "only he's a horse." Kate trotted to stay up with Hank. "That would explain everything if I knew what a steer is." "I can see why you aren't good at playing this man-woman game. A steer is a neutered bull. A gelding is a neutered horse." Hank pulled the barn door open. Kate stared at the slim legged horse that stood in a stall at the far end of the barn. "Why would you neuter a horse? Wouldn't that render him useless?" Hank opened the stall. "That depends. A stallion is mean as hell and hard to manage, but you put up with that because you need his services. If you want a gentle animal that you can control, you neuter him." "Now I know what I should have done with Jim the day Suzie was born." It was the first flip thing Kate had ever uttered about Jim. She couldn't believe her own words. "I didn't mean that." She reached over the top rail and patted Ringo.

"Be careful," Hank warned, then asked, "Who is Suzie?" "My daughter." The full impact of her remark made Hank wince. "Ouch! That would have been getting even." Forgetting seemed more sensible. "Did you bring a saddle?" "Sure did." "Cody can start my lessons tomorrow." Kate looked around the barn. "I've never been here before. It's a nice place, and big." Hank agreed. "Sure is. Dad had this built. Can you understand why I thought he had bought the place?" Kate could, and she told Hank so. "Maybe someday I can pay you for some of the improvements your dad made on Paradise." "That's not necessary. Dad paid a pittance for

leasing this spread. I think he felt he could afford to improve it, and still come out ahead. He used the improvements, and under the terms of our agreement, I will continue to use them. Forget it." "Under the terms of our agreement, I am supposed to ride the range every day. I don't know where that is. After Cody teaches me to ride, I'll be ready for someone to show me around." Hank smiled into her eyes, and moved a little closer. "Why don't we kill two birds with one stone? "I'll come over tomorrow, and teach you to ride, then It will be my pleasure to show you around." "You're a busy man." Kate was torn by conflicting emotions. Her head told her to keep her distance. Her heart welcomed the chance to spend more time with Hank. "Cody can teach me." Hank turned, and walked toward the bar door. "I'll be over about seven."

"That's early. That's too early." Kate followed along after him. "Some one has to ride over to the north pasture. We can do that." "You're doing it again." Kate accused, as they stepped outside, into the bright sunlight. "Doing what?" Hank shut the barn door. "Changing the subject, twisting my words, confusing me." "You were confused long before I came along." The sun was a giant orange ball floating in the western sky. It occurred to Kate that she had lost all track of time. "It must be late." Hank glanced toward the sky. "About four-thirty." "How do you know that? You can't know the time by looking at the sun." Kate looked at her watch. The digital readout flashed, four-thirty-six.

"You are psychic."

CHAPTER SIX

Kate thought that she had never witnessed a more domestic scene. Mamma was sitting on the end of the couch, her basket of yarn at her feet, her crochet hook flying. Cody relaxed in the overstuffed chair, his feet on a foot stool, reading the paper Kate had brought from St. Agnes. Lady was stretched out beside Cody's chair, with her head between her paws, and her ears back. Over supper, Kate had recounted most of the events of the day to Cody and Belle. She was careful to omit her encounter with Gina, and she didn't mention her conversation with Hank on the way home. Belle's concern had been about York's opinion of

the contract Kate had signed with Hank. When Kate explained that York had put his stamp of approval on the document, Belle seemed satisfied. Remembering the tension that had permeated the air when York had read the agreement with Hank looking on, made Kate wonder anew, why these two men disliked each other so intently. Kate hadn't dreamed Hank would go into the bank, then insist on accompanying her to York's office. "That's not necessary," she told him when she realized his intent. "This will only take a few minutes. Why don't you keep Beatrice company?" "That gum-popping broad? No thanks, I'll go with you." And he did. York made no effort to hide his annoyance. He greeted Hank with a clipped, "Sinclair? I should have known." Then extended his hand toward the chairs in front of his desk. "Would you like to sit down, Kate?" Kate perched on the edge of one of the chairs, and began to explain. "You said if I ever needed

your assistance, I should call on you." Uninvited, Hank sat down in the chair beside her, and glared at York. The tension in the room rose and crackled. Kate cleared her throat. "I'm taking you up on that offer." York pulled his eyes from Hank's slouching form, and smiled at Kate. "And I meant it. What can I do for you?" Kate explained, then handed York the contract. He perused the paper in tense silence, pursing his lips now and then, and once or twice shaking his head, as if to clear his mind. Through it all, Hank sat, silent and seemingly relaxed. Why then, did Kate have the feeling that he was as tense as a coiled spring, and just about as apt, at any moment, to unwind? After scanning the document for several minutes, York folded it and handed it back to Kate.

"Everything seems in order, unless you think it's important that the duties you are to perform as a working hand on the ranch should be spelled out in detail." His words carried a suggestive slur. How could she detail duties when she didn't even know what a cowboy was expected to do? "That's not necessary." Kate was becoming more uncomfortable by the minute. "I'm ready to sign." York pointed toward the contract. "This document makes you, in effect, Sinclair's employee for the next five years." The words were accompanied by a sneering glance in Hank's direction. If York was hoping to intimidate Hank, he must have been disappointed. A tiny muscle that danced erratically along Hank's jaw line was the only indication that he didn't like what York was implying. Kate could feel the charged atmosphere in the room. She took the pen from York's desk, and hurriedly scribbled her name on the bottom of the contract."Thank you, York, for your time and

your assistance." She felt like she was standing on a rumbling volcano. York came around his desk and helped Kate to her feet, then laid his arm around her shoulder. For no reason she could define, Kate found his gesture offensive, almost predatory. "May I say you look lovely today?" He stepped in front of Hank, and began to walk Kate to the door. "Perhaps I could take you to lunch?" Kate suspected York was doing this to annoy Hank. Again, he seemed to have failed. She could think of no good answer that would diffuse this volatile situation. From behind them, Hank spoke. "Knock it off Romeo. Kate's with me. 'I'm taking her to the auction." He took Kate's hand, and led her out the door, as a bemused York stared for a few minutes, then slammed his office door. "You did that to annoy York," Kate accused, as they walked across the parking lot. "One of these days," Hank vowed, "that SOB is

going too far, and I will do worse than annoy him." Hank swung a fist into the palm of his other hand. "One of these days..." Kate had dismissed the incident from her mind, but now she found herself wondering anew, what old quarrels and grudges existed between these two men. Kate hadn't told Belle and Cody about the incident in York's office. Mostly because there was nothing concrete she could tell. All she had was an aggravating feeling of uneasiness that wouldn't let go. Kate had ended by telling Cody he wouldn't have to bother teaching her to ride a horse. Hank would be over in the morning to do that. "He's also going to show me the route I will be riding each day." "Is this your idea, Kate, or Hank's?" Belle didn't look too happy about this turn of events. "I hope Hank doesn't get pushy just because you work for him now."

"It's Hank's idea, but I don't mind." And Belle was always chiding Kate for being overly protective ofher children. "Sooner or later I have to learn where to ride. Maybe this way is best. It should save time." "When did Hank find out you can't ride a horse?" Belle's brow wrinkled into a frown. "I told him the truth today." Kate could hear the concern in her mother's voice. "It's all right, Mamma." Belle shrugged. "If you say so." The rest of the meal had passed without incident. Now, in the comfort of her easy chair, Kate stared into space and thought of the day's many events. Belle laid her crochet aside as she and Cody exchanged complicated glances. "A penny for your thoughts, Kate." "They aren't worth it, Mamma."

In the flickering light of the gasoline lantern, Belle's head made grotesque shadows on the wall. "Are you worried about learning to ride a horse?" Kate picked up a magazine and flipped through the pages. "I'm too tired to worry about it tonight. I'll think about it in the morning." Cody gave his newspaper a shake. "The Atascosa Cattleman's Association is holding its annual Bluebonnet Festival next week. It sounds like a big event, with contests, and booths, and a carnival, and a big street dance that night." He laid the paper across his knees. "When we go into town tomorrow, Belle, I'm going to enter the Old Fiddler's Contest." Puzzled, Kate looked from Mamma to Cody. "You're going to St. Agnes tomorrow?" "I didn't know you were a fiddler, Cody." Belle laid her crochet in the basket at her feet. "I'd love to hear you play." "Why are you going to St. Agnes?" As she asked

the question, Kate began to realize that she didn't have a clue as to what was going on here. Neither Belle nor Cody paid the slightest attention to what Kate was saying. "I'm going to get my fiddle out of my camper, and serenade you, Belle." Cody pushed his footstool aside, and stood to his feet. Lady waited patiently for him to make his next move. "I'd love that." Belle crooned. "Damn it, will somebody answer me? Why are you going to town tomorrow?" Kate tossed the magazine on the table and glared at her mother. Belle smiled. "Don't swear, Kate. Cody got his social security check today." Cody and Lady were almost to the door. "I'll be right back with my fiddle." "That's not an answer, Mamma."

"Yes, it is," Belle argued, over the slam of the screen door. "Cody wants to cash his check, and buy some electrical wire to connect the cook stove, and we want to shop for garden seeds, and we're going to buy some baby chickens, and..." Belle's voice faded to a whisper. "A few other things." An alarm went off inside Kate's head. Mamma was up to something. "What other little things, Mamma?" Belle smiled, her dimples lending her face an engaging look of candor. "Do you like fiddle music, Kate?" "You know I do, Mamma." Kate was too tired to engage in this verbal chicanery. "You didn't answer my question." "I remember how we used to go to dances when I was just a girl. The fiddle was always the best part of the band." One of these days, Kate thought, her mother was

going to drive her over the edge of reason. "You don't intend to tell me do you?" "Tell you what?" Belle asked with childlike innocence. "Mamma," Kate threatened. "Do you want me to scream?" "Do you want to?" Belle put her hand over her mouth, and frowned. Kate was seriously considering letting out a bloodcurdling yell when Cody came through the door, with Lady at his heels, and carrying a bow in one hand and a delicately carved violin in the other. "She's a beauty, isn't she? This fiddle belonged to my grandpa Carter first." Cody ran loving fingers down the sides of the violin. "He handed it down to my papa, and Papa handed it down to me." "It's a beautiful violin." Kate forgot her impatience with her mother. "Kate girl, this is a fiddle." Cody laid the violin

on the couch beside Belle, and began to rosin his bow. Kate found herself being caught up in Cody's jovial mood. "Is there a difference?" "Maybe not, to some folks, but to me there is. I figure if you play Mozart and Bach, you play a violin. If you playFaded Love andWildwood Flower, you have to have a fiddle." Kate could think of no logic that would argue against such a premise. "You're right. I bow to your better judgment." Cody lifted the violin, tucked it under his chin, and picked up the bow. "What's your pleasure, ladies?" Belle's face was alight with tenderness. "I would love to hearAmazing Grace. " Cody slid the bow across the strings. The melody drifted out into the room, clear and sweet, and hauntingly beautiful, transporting Kate to another realm, a place that

suspended time and beckoned melancholy remembrances. When the music stopped, there were tears on her cheeks. "That was beautiful, Cody." "Play something else," Belle urged. And he did, beginning with the lilting melody of Home Sweet Home , then moving to the plaintive strains ofRed River Valley , and closing with a lively rendition ofTurkey in the Straw. The medley left Kate awe struck. The man was a virtuoso. After several minutes of serenading, Cody laid his violin aside. "I think that's enough for one night. Let's sit on the porch, Belle, and finish making our plans." "You are a man of many talents." Belle's voice was soft with praise. "Your abilities amaze me." Cody replied, with a wink, "You haven't seen anything yet, Belle darling." It took Kate a few seconds to absorb what Cody

had said. Her mouth fell open as Belle preceded Cody on to the front porch without a backward glance toward her daughter. Cody closed the door just as Lady's tail cleared the screen. Kate wanted to follow them outside, instead, she folded papers, fluffed pillows, and picked up magazines as she strained to hear what was being said. The words were indistinct, but pleasant. When there was no other task to busy her hands, Kate sat down on the couch and waited for Belle to come inside. Tired as she was, she was not about to go to bed until she had a little talk with her mother. But long after Kate heard only silence from outside, Belle remained on the porch. Finally Kate could stand no more. "Mamma," she called, as she opened the screen door, "are you

going to come inside, or do you plan to spend the night on the porch?" "It's late." Belle's voice was as soft as a southern breeze. "Why don't you go to bed Katie baby?" "Don't start with the Katie baby bit, Mamma, get in this house. I want to have a little talk with you." "Don't go sassing me, Kate I'm still the mamma here." "Then start acting like a mamma. Get in here and let me talk to you." Kate stepped onto the porch, and listened. She heard only chirping crickets and a sighing breeze. "Mamma, are you out there?" "Come out and look at the moon," Belle invited. "It looks like a head of silver cabbage up in the sky." Only Mamma would think to compare that gorgeous orb floating in the star studded heavens to a cabbage. Kate walked across the porch. "We have to talk Mamma."

"I know, Katie baby." Belle patted the space beside her. "Sit down." Kate sat, feeling the hard boards of the porch shove with unrelenting force into her tired backside. "I've heard the moon compared to many things, but never a head of cabbage." "But that's what it looks like." Belle pointed a finger skyward. "See those little squiggly lines all across the front? They look like cabbage leaves. And see how round it is? And it's about the size of a nice firm head of cabbage." Kate studied the night sky. "Mamma, why don't you tell me? And don't ask what. I don't know what." "You never did know what's what." "Mamma,damn it, don't start!" Kate's little annoyance was growing by leaps and bounds. "I want an answer." "Cody and I are going to see a doctor tomorrow

when we go to St. Agnes." Automatically, Belle added, "Don't swear." A thread of panic began to unwind in Kate's stomach. "Is there something you haven't told me? Are you sick, Mamma? "Yes and no." "Yesand no? Mamma, will you give me one straight answer?" "How can I when you asked two questions?" "Dear God, Mamma," Clutching her hands into tight fists, Kate fought to hold on to her temper. "You are a past master at answering a question with another question." "Am I? You're swearing again, Kate." "Yes, you are, Mamma. And that, along with your absurd analogies, will someday drive me right up the wall." Belle shook her head from side to side. "I hope

you can manage to hold on to your sanity until after the sixth of next month." "The sixth of next month," Kate mocked. "Now am I supposed to ask why?" "Do you really want to know?" Kate's tone was ominous. "Mamma." "I want you sane for my wedding." Belle announced with a shrug of her thin shoulders. Kate vaulted to her feet. "Yourwhat ?" "I don't want an insane matron of honor when I marry Cody the sixth of next month." Belle leaned against a porch post and watched Kate's reaction to the bombshell she had so casually dropped. "I take it back, Mamma." Kate laid her hand over her heart. "Long before I am over-the-wall crazy, you are going to send me into cardiac arrest." "Sit down, Kate. You're shouting at your mother."

Kate pressed a sweaty palm to her forehead, and sat back down. "Mamma, you have known Cody less than a week. How can you even consider marrying him?" "I'm in love with him," Belle announced. "That's the only reason I would ever consider marrying any man." Kate jumped to her feet again. "Three days ago, you threw a fit on McDonald's parking lot because I wanted to ask Cody to come here. You suspected he was a criminal -- a serial killer, I believe, was your exact expression." Belle frowned up at her daughter. "You're making me nervous, Kate, jumping up and down like a jack-in-the-box." Kate sat back down, and let out a long sigh. "And you are making me crazy, Mamma. Do you want to explain what this is all about?" "Didn't I just do that?"

"Maybe you'd better explain your explanation. How do you know you're in love with Cody?" "I knew the minute I looked across the table and into those polished pewter eyes." There was a tear in Belle's voice. "It's always been that way for me. That's why I didn't want him here at first. I was afraid." "Of what, Mamma?" "Of myself, of feelings I thought I'd never have again." Belle reached to catch her daughter's hand. "I looked across a crowded room and saw your daddy, and I said to myself, Belle, that's him. I was only eighteen years old, but I knew." Kate covered Belle's hand with her own. "Go on. Mamma." "I loved your daddy, Kate, with the kind of love only a very young, innocent girl can have for a man. Daddy was older, and experienced. Sometimes he treated me like a little child, but we had a very special relationship. Then he died, and I was sure I'd never love anyone else. I moved to

San Antonio and got a job, and tried to put the pieces of my life back together." Kate squeezed her mother's hand. "I know about losing someone you love, Mamma." Belle smiled through her tears. "It happened the same way with Mark. I glanced up from my desk, and there he stood. I looked into his eyes and the magic I thought had died with your daddy, was there again. I was different, older, and I thought wiser. When I learned Mark was married, it broke my heart." "Why didn't you just walk away, Mamma?" "I wanted to, I tried. So did he, but we couldn't do it." "So?" Kate questioned. "So, we had an affair. Mark was a religious man. Every time we made love, he died a little inside. I could see it happening. Then one morning I walked into the office and my supervisor told me that I was in line for a promotion, if I was willing

to relocate. I thought maybe Mark's angry God had decided to show a little mercy by giving me a chance to bow out gracefully." Tears puddled in Kate's eyes. "Mamma, how terrible." With a nod of her head, Belle agreed. "And it got worse. When Mark learned I was leaving, he wanted to divorce his wife, and marry me." Belle's fingernails dug into Kate's palm. "I wanted to, oh, how I wanted to, but I couldn't." "Why not, Mamma? If Mark didn't love his wife?" "He loved his God. I knew if I married him, I was condemning him to a life of torment." Kate whispered, "Oh, Mamma." "Your grandmother didn't want me to take the new job. Can you believe that? Not because of Mark. I never dared tell my mother about him. Grandma was so old fashioned. She thought my being an executive instead of a secretary would

make me less of a woman." Remembering brought a smile to Belle's lips. "Your grandma said: 'Belle, you will go off up to Dallas and get to be another one of those crowing hens.' I thought she was crazy." "A crowing hen?" Kate could feel her mother's misery, and it broke her heart. Through her tears, she quipped, "I didn't know hens ever crowed." "They aren't supposed to," Belle's bottom lip quivered. "but it happens every now and then. Grandma had a saying about a whistling woman and a crowing hen always coming to a no-good end. 'Stay home, find a good man and get married.' That was your grandma's advice to me. I couldn't stay, and I couldn't tell Grandma why, so I went off to Dallas, and became what Grandma said I would." "A crowing hen?" Kate understood, for the first time, her mother's despair. "Mamma you did not!" "I became a wheeler-dealer executive. I never found anyone else to love, not even anyone else I wanted, until Cody came along. Somewhere

between the next board meeting, and a stack of unanswered mail, life passed me by. The next thing I knew, a company executive was asking me if I'd like to take an early retirement. I suddenly realized I was sixty-two years old, and alone." "Mamma," Kate chided, "You had me." "You didn't need me. You had your children, and Jim." Belle hunched her slim shoulders. "So I retired and went to Cedar's to die." "Mamma," Kate's voice wobbled as she swallowed over the lump in her throat. "you went to Cedar's to live." "No, Kate, that's where I went to die. I began to know how an old elephant must feel when he'd found his graveyard. Cedar's was a dying ground. The residents there were sitting around waiting for death to catch up to them." In the warm air, Kate shuddered, "Mamma you never told me you felt that way." "You never asked."

"I never dreamed..." How thoughtless she had been, how unfeeling. Belle brushed Kate's words aside. "Don't start blaming yourself for anything else. You're already carrying around enough guilt for two people. You should congratulate yourself. You're the reason I got guts enough to leave." "Me?" Kate asked, surprised again by Belle's admission. "Yes, you. I saw what a mess you were making of trying to live, and I decided I had to stop dying and start to live again, so you would. I thought up the idea of moving back to Paradise. And it was the best thing that ever happened to me, because I found Cody." "Mamma," Kate whispered, "I owe you an apology." "For what?" In the darkness, Belle narrowed her

eyes. "For being such a rotten kid?" Kate was too choked with emotion to voice her true feelings. "You're the rotten kid who saved my life. Apology accepted." "Why are you going to see a doctor, Mamma? Are you worried about birth control?" Kate jibed, "There's a pill you can take now." Belle's laughter rang out. "You are a rotten kid. We have to get blood tests. Then, later in the month we will drive over to the County Seat at Pleasanton, and get our marriage license. Birth control pills." Belle hooted. "You really do have a smart mouth." "When did Cody propose?" Kate watched the cabbage moon drift across the sky, and understood for the first time why knowledge could not overstep the bounds of experience. She had thought she understood her mother so well. How little she had actually known.

"What makes you thinkhe proposed?" "Mamma! You didn't." "No, but I would have if he hadn't. He asked me today, just after we made love." Kate's eyes widened in amazement. "Mamma! You didn't!" "We did, and it was wonderful. Why do you think I sent you off to town with the neighbors?" Kate fell back on the porch, and feigned a faint. "It's a damn good thing there is no history of weak hearts in this family, since it's apparent that you intend to bring me to the brink of total seizure at least once a week for the rest of my life." Standing, Belle offered Kate her hand, and pulled her to her feet. "You're swearing again. Kate. Go to bed. It's late and you have to learn to ride a horse tomorrow" "After I get the hang of riding a horse," Kate pulled the screen door open. "I'm going to plan a

wedding. Where do you want the ceremony to take place Mamma? I'm sure we could hire a hall or a party house in St. Agnes." "I want to be married right here, Kate, under the big oaks in the back yard." "I have to write Michael and Sharon." Kate shut the door, and pushed the lock down. "And Suzie," Belle questioned, "What about Suzie?" "Maybe I'd better wait and see if Suzie answers my letter." Kate hurried into her bedroom, and shut the door. She was too physically weary and emotionally drained to discuss Suzie tonight. As she dressed for bed, Kate wondered how she could have had a role model like Belle, and failed so miserably at being a mother herself. She drifted into a sound sleep, thinking that maybe Belle's coming marriage would be a way to begin again with Suzie.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Kate held on to Ringo's reigns, and tried not to look down, as she swayed in the saddle, and listened to Hank's instructions. "Touch the reins to the right side of his neck, if you want him to go left, and to the left side when you want him to turn right. Pull back gently when you want to stop. Give him a little nudge in the flanks when you want him to go." "You make it sound easy." Kate complained. "It is, once you get the hang of it." With one graceful movement, Hank mounted his horse, a black stallion called Diablo. "But remember to always mount from the left." Kate swallowed her apprehension, and gave Ringo a tap with her heels. He moved at an easy gait across the lot, and onto the open field beside the house.

"Some teacher you are," Kate called out as Hank stopped and waited for her to catch up to him. "You just said, 'Get on and ride', then you rode away." "Stop complaining, you're riding him, aren't you?" "No thanks to you." Kate relaxed a little, and found she was enjoying this new experience. Hank's amused chuckle sounded in her ears. "That's gratitude." They rode for several minutes in silence, passing through a clump of trees, and into an open area. Wild flowers wove through the grass that covered the ground. To their left a small herd of cattle grazed along a gentle rise. As they came nearer, Kate observed, "There are tags in both ears of every one of your cows. Why?" "We keep records on each cow," Hank explained. "and you can't keep records on a cow, if you can't identify her." He sat tall in the saddle, relaxed and completely at ease. "And some of the

calves that these cows drop this spring will be yours. They will have to be tagged too. Sit loose in the saddle, and relax." Kate loosened her grip on Ringo's reins, "That's easy for you to say. What do you put on the tags?" "Each tag has a herd number." Kate would have sore muscles tomorrow that she didn't even know she had today. "Are the tags identical?" "Yes. That's a safety measure. If an animal loses a tag, the other tag is there, and you can still identify it." Standing up in his stirrups, Hank surveyed the rolling countryside. "We'll be at the line shack soon. It's just over the next rise. You can rest there." Kate had no idea what a line shack was. She opened her mouth to ask, then snapped it shut again. She would ask Belle when she got home. "Do you make this ride every day?" "Somebody has to in the spring, when the cows

are dropping calves. The rest of the year, twice a week is enough." Hank pushed his hat back. His hair gleamed silver in the sunlight. "An animal could be caught in a fence, stuck in a mud hole, or have trouble calving, so somebody checks every herd every day. Ranching is a business, Kate, without proper equipment, efficient management, good organization, and a great deal of back breaking work, the business fails. Anyone who takes up ranching with the idea that it's a gentleman's occupation, is in for a rude awakening." They rode over the rise and into a gully that held yet another a herd of grazing cattle. Hank swung from his saddle. His feet hit the ground while the animal was still moving. "Dismount, Kate. I want you to get a close look at Pretty Boy." "This critter doesn't have a brake. Give me time." Kate was trying to remember Hank's instructions about how to stop. She pulled back on the reins. "Whoa, horse." Hank reached for Ringo's bridle and pulled him to a slow halt. "I keep forgetting what a

greenhorn you are." Kate swung one leg over the saddle and eased to the ground. "Who is Pretty Boy?" "He's my prize bull." Hank caught Kate's hand, and led her toward the grazing herd. "He's right over here. I want you to see him." Stopping a few feet from the huge animal, Hank beamed with pride. "Look at the length of him, Kate." "He looks like the monster from Beauty and the Beast." Kate tamped down an urge to put some space between her and the lumbering giant. "Aren't you afraid he will charge?" "Pretty Boy? Not a chance." Head down, ignoring the onlookers, the bull continued to graze. "Look at him." Hank squeezed Kate's hand. "That strong neck, and long head mark him as a prize bull. He's not post legged nor sickle hocked. The

truth is, Kate, he's a real beauty." "Then beauty is in the eye of the beholder," Kate retorted. She tried to pull her hand away. Hank held on to Kate with one hand, and took the reins of both horses in the other, then began to lead then all toward the cabin that stood a few yards away. "There's a wood stove in the line shack. We can make a pot of coffee, and eat lunch." "Is it noon already?" Kate couldn't believe the morning had passed so quickly. Hank glanced skyward. "It's past noon." He tied the horses to a hitching post beside the door, and reached for his saddle bags. "About one o'clock." Kate rubbed her backside with her free hand. "Time does fly when you're having fun." But she felt, as her eyes swept across the rough terrain and came to rest where the blue sky bent to meet the distant hills, an empathy with the father she had never known, and a kinship with his unfulfilled dream.

"You're very quiet. What are you thinking?" Hank lifted his saddle bags from the back of his saddle. "Mamma says this country grows on you. I was thinking maybe she's right." Hank pushed the door open, then stepped back and waited for Kate to enter. "I'll start a fire in the stove." He tossed his saddle bags on the table, and pointed toward the makeshift cabinet. "You make the coffee." Kate found the coffee pot and coffee. "What do I use for water?" "It's in the can on the table." Hank was putting sticks of wood in the stove. "Does someone live here?" A bed in the corner and a store of staples in the cabinet made Kate wonder. "This is a line shack." Hank struck a match on the leg of his jeans and held it to the kindling in the

stove. "We'll have a fire here in no time." "What is a line shack for?" The words she hadn't intended to ask were past her lips before she could stop them. Hank adjusted the damper on the stove pipe. "I thought you'd never ask. It's a shack built along the fence line to store tools and supplies. When we're mending fences, sometimes some of the cowboys spend the night there." Kate put the measuring spoon down on the cabinet, and turned to glare at him. "How did you know I didn't know?" "The way you looked when I said line shack." He was laughing at her. "You wanted to know, but you wouldn't ask." "I did ask; I just asked." Kate slammed the lid down on the coffee pot. "But you didn't intend to. It just slipped out." "You don't know that." She used her hand to

sweep stray coffee grounds from the cabinet. "How can you know that?" A smile pulled at her lips. "Maybe you are psychic." "Nope, just observant." Hank chuckled. "You're not very good at hiding your feelings." "You sound like Jim. He used to say, 'Kate, you make a terrible poker player. The way you feel always shows in your face'. " Pausing, Kate thought, with a touch of dismay, that remembering didn't hurt. She set the pot on the stove. "Mamma could always tell when I was lying, too. She still can." "Is your mamma adjusting to ranch life?" Hank emptied the contents of his saddle bag on the table. "Surely you jest." Kate's eyes were alight with laughter. "Mamma could adjust to living on another planet." "She sounds like a remarkable woman." Hank was sorting through the cans of food that he that had rolled from his saddle bags. "Look over in

that box and find a can opener." Kate found the opener, and handed it across to Hank. "Remarkable doesn't even come close to describing Mamma. She's also stubborn, opinionated, shrewd, and unpredictable. Living with Mamma is a little like riding a roller coaster. You have to keep your seat, and hold on for dear life, but it's one hell of a ride." "What a comparison, Kate." Hank motioned with his hand. "Look in the cabinet and get some coffee cups." "Good Lord, I'm beginning to sound like her. Mamma's analogies are the pits." Kate set the cups on the table. They ate beans and drank black coffee, with Kate recounting some of Mamma's more daring escapades. "To put it in her own words, Mamma is a caution. You never know what she might do next." After the meal, Kate washed the tin cups and plates in water from the can on the table. As she

was putting the clean plates on a shelf in the cabinet, Hank came to stand directly behind her. "You're fair at surprises yourself, Kate." He was too near. Kate took a step forward, and hit the edge of the cabinet. "I don't know what you mean." But the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach told her she knew exactly what he meant. Hank pulled her around to face him. "Your mouth says one thing, your delectable body says another." He took her in his arms, and very slowly lowered his lips to hers. The kiss lasted for precious seconds, and was sweetly seductive. A surge of unwanted passion, coupled with indignant rage, shook Kate. Clamping down on the emotions that could be her undoing, she pushed Hank from her, ducked under his arm, and fled to stand in the center of the room. She was too shaken to be anything but boldly blunt. "Is that what you brought me up here for? A little sex in the afternoon?" Her ill concealed anger seeped into her shaking voice.

Hank seemed genuinely surprised. He dropped his hands to his side, and leaned against the cabinet. "If you'd give me a chance, you might like it. I know how to please a woman." So he had brought her up here with the thought of trying to seduce her. Kate didn't know if she should be flattered or furious. "Do you honestly think I came up here because I want to go to bed with you?" "You're the most uptight female I know. You need something to make you loosen up." "Loosen up?" His smug arrogance stung her. "Loosen up?" Her voice rose. Swinging her arms, she began to walk around the room. "You bring me to a shack, feed me beans, let me wash the dishes, corner me at the sink, try to seduce me, then when I refuse, you lecture me about the therapeutic value of sex?" She threw both hands in the air, and shouted, "My God, you are one arrogant, conceited bastard." "And you are a very desirable woman, especially when you're angry." He began to walk toward

her. "Damned if I can figure you out." Kate struggled to get a grip on her outrage. "Back off cowboy. Don't come near me." He stopped, his spurs giving a little ringing sound as his boots dug into the floor. "Relax, if you can do that. I'm not going to rape you. I'm not even going to ask again. I don't go around forcing myself on women, Kate. I don't have to." She believed that. A twinge of contrition moved in to chase away her anger. Quite unintentionally, she had wounded his pride. "I meant no offense. It's nothing personal." She felt a pressing need to explain. Lacing her hands together, she rested them under her chin. "It's just that..." Taking a deep breath, she dropped her arms to her sides. "In a way, I'm flattered but... How can I say this?" Hank straddled a chair, and rested his arms on the back. "Spit it out, Kate." "Sex is not a game with me." God! That sounded trite and straight laced. "It's tied up with commitment and trust and caring. I can't just jump

in the bed and...you know, do that." A small shudder ran through her body. "Anyway, sometimes it doesn't work for me." "Are you telling me that after all those years, sometimes your husband couldn't get it right?" "It wasn't his fault." Kate couldn't believe she was standing in the middle of a line shack floor discussing her abysmal sex life with a virtual stranger. "It was me." "How can you be sure if you never tried it with anyone else?" His smile was derisive. "One marriage, one man, Isn't that what you said?" "Casual sex is repulsive to me." "Do you want some kind of commitment from me?" Hank stood up and shoved the chair under the table. "You're looking at a man who never lets passion put words in his mouth. I don't make promises I know I wouldn't keep. Are you ready to go?" "Not until I make myself clear to you." Kate

drew herself up to her full height. " I don't want anything from you, Hank, no commitment, no promises, and most definitely no quick roll in the hay." She turned, and stared at the wall. "You would have been disappointed, anyway. I'm not good at that sort of thing." "Says who?" "The only man who really knows, my ex-husband." The pain that accompanied that admission cut through Kate like a knife. "We can go now." She took a step toward the door. "Maybe you should get a second opinion." She turned slowly, and met his amused gaze, "If I ever decide to, I'll let you know." then took a deep breath. "Until then could we be friends? I don't want to fight with you." He rubbed his chin with his hand. "Your 'don't wants' would fill a book." "I don't want to talk about it. Just tell me, can we be friends?"

"Let's go." Hank made long strides toward the door. He was untying the horses when Kate caught up to him. "You are one perplexing female, Kate McClure." She extended one hand. "Friends, Hank? Please?" He studied her for a few moments before taking both reins in one hand and extending the other in Kate's direction. "Sure, why not?" Grasping his hand, Kate shook it warmly. "Thank you for understanding." Hank put his foot in the stirrup, and swung into the saddle. "Don't go jumping to conclusions. I said we'd be friends. I didn't say I understood, because I don't." Even as she asked, she had the feeling she shouldn't. "NowIdon't understand. What don't you understand?" Kate put her foot in the stirrup, and

eased into the saddle. "I don't understand why a woman who is as warm and passionate as you are would deny herself the pleasure her own body can give her." He pulled Diablo up along side Ringo. "Why Kate?" "It's not that you don't understand, you don't listen." Why did he insist on prying into her sex life? Talking about it was like pulling the scab off an old wound. "I'm not good at... I don't do..." Bitterly, she blurted out, "Hell, I'm no good in bed." "I sure would like the job of proving you wrong." "It wouldn't be worth the effort, for either of us. Can we talk about something else?" She added a painful, "Please?" They rode south, toward Circle S. It was a long time before Hank spoke again, When he did it was with a touch of irony. "I'm going to take you to meet my Aunt Catherine. You two have a lot in common, beginning with a similar first name. Aunt Cat's an old maid."

Kate's chin went up. "What are you implying?" "Not a damn thing." His voice rippled with suppressed laughter. "Do you want to meet Aunt Cat?" Kate nudged Ringo to move a little faster. "I'd love to." Catherine Janelle Sinclair was everything her nephew was not, well-bred, aristocratic, refined. "So you are our new neighbor. I am so glad to meet you." Her slim blue veined hands grasp Kate's wrists. "Aren't you a pretty creature?" A little abashed by Aunt Cat's overt admiration, Kate covered her embarrassment by changing the subject. "Hank tells me you were once a school teacher." "Is that what he said?" Aunt Cat arched one dark, elegant eyebrow. "What else did my nephew say to you, about me?" In some ways Hank and his auntwere alike. Tact

did not seem to be a strong point for either of them. "He said we had similar names." Kate looked over Aunt Cat's carefully coiffured hair and into Hank's devilish green eyes. She considered telling Aunt Cat Hank had said she was an old maid, then decided that would be in bad taste. "That's about all." "He didn't call me his spinster aunt, did he? He usually tells strangers I'm his spinster aunt." Behind his aunt's straight back, Hank was doubling over in silent laughter. He's doing this on purpose, Kate thought as she accepted a cup of tea from Aunt Cat. Quite truthfully she said, "He didn't call you a spinster." "Then he said old maid. The rascal." Aunt Cat took a dainty sip from her cup. "Spinster I don't mind, old maid I hate. It carries such a bad connotation." The old lady set her cup on the table beside her, and folded her hands in her lap. "Did he tell you how old I am?" Behind his aunt's back, Hank still wore that smug smile.

"He said something about your age being near that of someone named Methuselah." Kate lied with a straight face, then lowered her head to avoid Hank's rounding eyes. Aunt Cat's head turned on her skinny neck to stare at Hank. "Oh, did he?" Hank began to take giant strides across the thick carpet. "I have some chores to do." He grabbed his hat as he passed the table beside the couch, then charged through the door, slamming it behind him. As Hank's footsteps faded, Aunt Cat smiled over her tea cup. "Good riddance." She put the cup beside the teapot, and announced with pride. "I'm ninety-three years old. I was the first woman in Atascosa County to cast a vote in a presidential election." "Were you?" "Yes." With droll good humor, Aunt Cat added, "That was slightly after Methuselah's time, but all

the same, a long while ago." Then, without so much as the bat of an eyelash, Aunt Cat asked, "Are you Henry's new lady friend?" "Henry?" Kate almost choked on her tea. "Yes, my nephew, Henry." Kate swallowed a giggle with the last of her tea. "No, Hank -- Henry and I are business partners." "Oh, I wondered. He changes frequently, you know, lady friends, that is." Aunt Cat observed with a wave of one slim hand. "Marcus, That was my brother, Henry's father, used to say, 'I do wish that boy would settle down'. " Remembering her brother brought a smile to the ancient lady's face. It was followed by a frown that furrowed her brow into deep ruts. "But Henry never did, settle down that is." She finished on a vague note of disappointment. Thirty minutes later, when Hank returned, Kate was still engaged in conversation with Aunt Cat.

"Time I saw you home, Kate." Hank leaned against the door jamb. "Your mamma will start to worry." "Do come to visit me again," Aunt Cat invited as Kate said her last goodbyes. "I will," Kate promised. She thought Hank's aunt was a delightful person. They had ridden a long way up the fence row before Hank asked, "Isn't she an old dear?" Kate couldn't keep the laughter from her voice. "Yes, Henry, your aunt is utterly delightful." "Hot damn, She told you my name." Hank pushed his hat back. The waning sunlight danced through the silver in his hair. "Yes, Henry, she did." "Nobody but Aunt Cat dares call me that." Hank's face was grim, but his eyes glowed with suppressed mirth. "The first three years I was in

school, I fought any kid who called me Henry. I came home every other day with a black eye or a bloody nose, or both." "You fought in school?" "You didn't?" Hank sounded as surprised as Kate felt. "I did, once," Kate recalled, "Eugene Marshall called me a carrot top, and I kicked him on the shins." They rode toward Paradise, laughing, talking, remembering. Kate neared the house with the thought that it had been a long time since she had enjoyed a day more. Well, she had enjoyed most of the day. "Thanks for teaching me to ride. I'll begin to make my appointed rounds tomorrow." "If you find a cow in trouble, or a fence down, ride over to Circle S, and tell me or one of the boys." Hank slid from his horse. "I'll rub your horse down and feed him. You'd better watch. After today, you're on your own."

As Hank led the horse toward the barn, Cody's pickup roared through the gate. The back was loaded with an assortment of tools, bags, and cartons. As they came very near, Cody slowed, and Mamma leaned out the window. "Put the horses away and come to the house. We brought barbecue for supper." Cody revved the motor, and the pickup sped toward the house, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake. As Hank rubbed Ringo down, he asked, "Have you and your mamma known what's-his-name long?" "Cody?" Kate didn't offer specifics. She didn't think she could explain Cody's status in the household with any degree of success. "Not long." "Did you hire him to work for you?" Hank was closing the stall door. Kate couldn't see his face. "Not exactly." Turning, Hank let his keen glance bore into her.

"Are you going to tell me what you mean by not exactly? Either you did or you didn't." Kate hurried toward the barn door. "We did, in a way." "Why are you being so evasive?" She couldn't explain about Cody and Mamma to Hank. She hadn't sorted it out in her own mind, yet. "About what?" "About whatever it is you don't want me to know about what's-his-name." Hank quickened his pace to catch up to Kate. "Cody." Kate said emphatically. "The man's name is Cody Carter. And what makes you think there is anythingto tell? Hank caught Kate's arm. "Do you always answer a question by asking a question?" Kate thought of Mamma and wanted to laugh. "It's genetic." She pulled free, and hurried through the barn door. "Mamma invited you for barbecue.

Do you want to stay?" As an afterthought, she added, "Mamma probably brought potato salad too." Hank caught up to Kate again and pulled her to a halt. "You are one uptight, aggravating female. I'm going to stay for barbecue." He dug his heels into the soft sand. "What is it about Cody that you don't want to tell me?" "It's not that I don'twant to tell you. I just don't know where to start. We met Cody under rather strange circumstances." Brightening considerably, Kate asked, "Did you know Cody plays the fiddle better than Bob Wills?" Hank's tone was droll. "Is that what you don't want me to find out?" "Do you know who Bob Wills was?" "Yes, I know who Bob Wills was." "Mamma took me to see his band once..." Hank's face twisted into a scowl. "We will

discuss Bob Wills later. Right now we are talking about Cody. Spit it out, Kate." "Well," Kate took a deep breath. "we had to put in this meter loop, so Mamma said, 'Let's go to McDonald's before we look for an electrician, because we thought we might be able to do it ourselves. And when we got inside, there was Cody." Stealing a glance in Hank's direction, Kate thought he looked more confused than repulsed. "I guess you know I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about." If it had to be said, the faster the better. Words began to catapult words from Kate's mouth. "We met Cody four days ago in St. Agnes. We were eating lunch and trying to decipher the instructions that told how to install a meter loop. Cody offered to help, so I hired him." Exasperated, Hank charged, "You told me you didn't hire him." "I said in a way, I didn't. I didn't intend it to be on a permanent basis. He was going to stay long

enough to put in the meter loop, then leave, only..." "Only what?" Hank was looking more puzzled by the minute. "Only it didn't work out that way." "Kate, damn it." "All right. Mamma looked into his eyes and thought they looked like polished pewter. I thought they were more like burnished silver. But I never won an argument with Mamma in my entire life, so..." Grabbing Kate by both her arms, Hank gave her a little shake. "Will you, for God's sake, tell it? I don't have all evening to stand out here and listen to you beat the devil around the stump." "Mamma took one look into Cody's eyes and fell in love with him." "Shewhat ?" Hank's mouth fell open. A look of utter disbelief began to crowd into his eyes.

"I guess Cody must have felt something too, because yesterday while I was in St. Agnes, Mamma..." Kate stopped to catch her breath. "Will you tell me what the hell Mamma did?" Kate swallowed, hard. "Mamma seduced Cody. They went to get blood tests today. They are going to be married the sixth of next month." A look of incredulous amazement shot across Hank's face. He threw both hand into the air. "You made this up." "I did not!" "Then you read it inWestern Romance Magazine."Hank doubled over and burst out with peals of laughter. Angered by his unexpected reaction, Kate demanded, "What's so funny?" Between loud hoots, Hank said. "You are, you and your mamma. You won't let me anywhere

near you. I never before saw a woman so afraid of being a woman. And you are telling me that your little mamma jumped in bed with a man she had known less than three days, and now she's going to marry him?" He collapsed again, in spasms of laughter. "Mamma can tell if she's in love by looking into a man's eyes." Kate slapped her hand over her mouth as she realized how utterly asinine that sounded. "You'd have to know Mamma to understand." Hank rolled his eyes and swore, using graphic, one-syllable expletives. "You are both crazy. You know that, don't you?" Kate bristled. "Don't you dare talk about my mamma." "To borrow from you own words, I meant no offense." Hank caught Kate's hand. "Lead me to that barbecue. I'm starved." "I don't think I explained this very well." Kate fell in step with Hank. "It all sounds a little

far-fetched." "Am I invited to the wedding?" "You and Aunt Cat. I want it to be a wedding to remember." "Are her grandchildren coming to the wedding?" They were nearing the house."I do hope so." A shadow fell across Kate's heart. Hank reached for the screen door. "Far-fetched? Yes, I'd say so." They went inside, and the door slammed behind them.

CHAPTER EIGHT

"There aren't enough hours in a day," Kate complained, as she came through the back door, and hung her hat on one of the pegs Cody had driven into the wall. "Did you ask Hank to get someone to ride for you tomorrow?" Belle gave the contents of the pot on the stove a vigorous stir. "He wasn't home. I left a message, and I didn't ask him, I told him. I'm going to the Bluebonnet Festival, Mamma. If Hank can't get Billy Jack or Jake to make that ride, he can do it himself." Belle wiped her hands on her apron, then tucked a stand of hair behind her ear. "Did you and your boy friend have a fight?" "I'm too old to have a boy friend." Kate fell into a chair, and stretched her legs out in front of her. "What are you cooking?" "Supper," was Belle's terse reply. "I should have known I wouldn't get a straight answer."

"Excuse me, but I asked first." One of Belle's eyebrows climbed up her face. "Did you and your man friend have a fight?" Kate smiled. "Hank's not my man friend. I haven't seen him in three weeks." Surveying the kitchen, Kate thought what a difference those three weeks had made in Paradise, thanks mostly to Cody. He had made numerous repairs on the old house, put an electrical drop in each room, connected the cook stove, piped water into the house. He had even constructed a makeshift shower beside the outhouse. Somewhere between all those jobs, he and Mamma had planted a garden that they tended daily. They also found time to care for a hundred baby chicks they had purchased in St. Agnes the day they had gone for their blood tests. "Is Cody ready for the old fiddler's contest?" Kate pulled her chair nearer the table, and rested her arms on its surface.

"He's going to win that contest, Kate. The first prize is two hundred dollars. Cody wants to buy a pig with part of that money." "He hasn't won it yet, Mamma." "No," Belle agreed, "but he will. Do you know what I'm going to do with the rest of the money?" "Mamma, you don't have it yet." Kate didn't want Belle to be too disappointed if Cody didn't win. "I'm going to buy my wedding dress. I thought I might get something in pink. Cody likes me in pink. Would you like to help me shop when we go to St. Agnes for the festival?" "Mamma, honestly," Kate began, only to be interrupted by Belle announcing, "I almost forgot. You got a letter today." "From Michael? ' Kate felt a tingle of joy. "Is he going to make it to the wedding?" Belle's eyes were riveted on the contents of the steaming pot. "The letter is from Suzie."

Kate's heart began to race. "Suzie answered my letter? I had given up." She jumped to her feet. "Where is it, Mamma?" "On that little table in the living room." If Belle felt any excitement at the thought of Suzie breaking her long silence, she didn't show it. "Don't be too disappointed if it doesn't say what you want to hear." By the time those words were out of Belle's mouth, Kate was in the next room, and reaching for the envelope. In a matter of minutes she was back in the kitchen, holding the envelope out to Belle. "You open it, Mamma. I can't." Kate read in her mother's eyes a curt refusal, then the look softened. Belle put her spoon on the counter. "Let me have it." Sitting down at the table, she slowly, deliberately opened the envelope with a kitchen knife, pulled a sheet of paper from the inside, and tapped it on the table. Kate pressed her hand to her heart. "I can't believe Suzie answered my letter."

Belle very meticulously began to unfold the letter, pressing each crease with her long, skinny fingers. "Mamma, you're making me a nervous wreck." Kate sat on the edge of her chair. Belle's eyes scanned the page. "This girl's a college senior? She writes like a middle school dropout." Annoyance began to aggravate Kate's anxiety. "Mamma! Please read the letter." "Oh, all right." Belle's brows drew together in a frown. "It says, Dear Mom and Grandma." "Does it saydear ?" Kate jumped to her feet. "Does Suzie really saydear Mom ?" Belle held the letter against her chest. "Do you want to hear this?" "You know I do."

"Then sit down and listen." Kate sat. "I'm listening, Mamma." Belle cleared her throat:

"Dear Mom and Grandma, I am sorry I was so long answering. I live with Dad now, not at the dorm. Your letter had to be forwarded, and that took time. I hope you are doing well. Thank you for writing. Suzie"

Looking up, Belle declared, "That's it." "Oh, Mamma, that's enough! Suzie answered my

letter. I can invite her to the wedding. Maybe I can find a way to tell her how sorry I am for all the terrible things I said to her." "You are not the one who needs to apologize." Belle's mouth was a thin line of reproach. Then her features relaxed. "She did make a gesture." "That was more than a gesture, Mamma. I can invite Suzie to your wedding." Kate was on her feet, moving restlessly around the room. Belle's eyes followed her daughter's every move. "Do you think she will come?" "I hope so." Kate opened the cabinet, and took down two cups. "Do you want a cup of coffee, Mamma?" "Coffee will do for me. You need something stronger that coffee." Kate never touched liquor in the middle of the day, and Belle knew that. She decided to humor her mother. "Like what, Mamma?" She put the filled cups on the table and sat back down.

"Like a double shot of courage with a jigger of common sense for a chaser." Belle pointed her spoon in Kate's direction. "You are about to make a big mistake." Mamma wasn't happy about Kate's decision to apologize to Suzie. So now she was being contrary and demeaning. "It wouldn't be the first one, and I doubt it will be the last." "All right, we won't talk about it." Belle dumped sugar into her coffee. "We can talk about my wedding dress instead." She sipped from her cup. "Yes, pink, definitely pink. You are going to be my matron of honor, aren't you Kate?" Mamma was sparing for a fight, and Kate wasn't going to fall into her little trap. "I look forward to being your matron of honor." Belle's anger seemed to melt into thin air. Her face crumpled like old parchment. "Katie, don't do it please. You've been hurt enough already. Don't lay yourself open for more heartbreak."

Kate studied Belle's worried face and felt a pang of contrition. "Why don't you want me to apologize to Suzie, Mamma?" "Because that would be the worse thing you could do, not only for you, but for your daughter, too." Kate stared down into her cup, and thought if she hadn't wanted an honest answer from Belle, she shouldn't have asked. "I lost my temper, and said terrible things to Suzie." "Suzie's your daughter, Kate. She should have been offering you her support instead of sitting in judgment on your actions." Kate had never come to terms with what had happened between her and Suzie. Maybe it was time she did. "Suzie was young and impressionable. She listened to, and believed every word her father told her. She didn't realize I had a side too." "Is that what you're going to apologize to Suzie for, her own lack of insight?" Belle took another

sip of coffee. "Maybe you should apologize to Jim too." "Don't be ridiculous, Mamma." "It makes about as much sense. If you go dredging up the past the minute you see Suzie, you will kill any hope of ever reconciling with her." Belle spoke with somber intensity. "Suzie knows where the blame lies. But if you start trying to fix things, she'll deny that blame, and maybe succeed in refusing to ever face the truth." What Belle said made sense. "What should I do, mamma?" "Let Suzie make the first move." "And if she doesn't? What then?" "Then you have to accept her decision not to talk about what happened." Belle laid her hand on Kate's arm. "Suzie needs to come to terms with what happened, if she hasn't already, by herself, with no help from you or anyone else."

"Are you saying cut the aprons strings, Mamma?" "I know how hard it is to do." Belle stood. "I have to make Cody's supper." Kate drank the last of her coffee, and pushed her chair back. "I have to write a letter." With her back to Kate, Belle ordered, "But no apologies." "All right, Mamma, no apologies." If you wear pink, I think I'll wear a nice shade of blue." "Something the color of your eyes?" Belle asked, as she took a bowl from the cabinet. Kate swung out the door. "Exactly." Kate wrote the letter to Suzie. It was no more than an impersonal little note telling Suzie how pleased she would be if both she and Michael would come to Belle's wedding. Licking the flap of the envelope, Kate decided that Belle was right, she should let Suzie be the

one to initiate any talk of the quarrel that had led to their estrangement. The last thing she wanted was to further alienate her daughter. But some sixth sense told her that until she and Suzie exorcised this demon of dissension that hung between them, it would always be there, lurking like some evil spirit, clouding any future relationship they might have. During supper Cody and Mamma talked of nothing but the festival. "Let's take a lunch," Cody dug into a slice of lemon pie. "We can find a table in the park at lunch time and have a picnic." "I'll pack that left over fried chicken." Belle ladled stew into her bowl. Kate listened, amazed that they could find so much joy in planning a simple outing. She wanted to be as excited as Belle and Cody were, but her heart wasn't in it. "I think I'll go to bed and finish my book." Cody set his coffee cup down. "Did you find somebody to make your ride tomorrow?"

"I left Hank a message," Kate admitted, with some reluctance. Cody frowned. "That will go over like a lead balloon. I don't think Hank's the kind of man who likes to be told. Maybe you should have asked." "I'm not one of Hank's hired hands. I don't have to ask." Out of the blue, Words York had said the day he read the agreement Kate had signed with Hank, floated into Kate's mind."Everything seems to be in order, unless you think it is important that the duties you are to perform as a working hand on the ranch be spelled out." And she, idiot that she was, had said no. Cody shifted in his chair. "I read that agreement, Kate. You are one of Hank's hired hands." "It's too late now to change what I've done." Kate thought that could be the story of her life. "I'm going to bed." Kate's feeling of depression wouldn't go away. She pushed her pillow against the head of her bed, and tried to concentrate on the book she held

in front of her. Suzie's letter had brought back a host of old and bitter recollections: Jim's betrayal, Suzie's rejection, Michael's indifference, Lila's treachery. "Don't think about it," she told herself. But her mind wouldn't let her memories alone. She laid her book on her night stand, as past agonies converged to swamp her. Once again, she began to sort through old hurts. Honesty forced her to admit that it wasn't Jim's betrayal, but the cruelty with which it was executed, that had devastated her. Jim had tossed her out of the house, then divorced her and taken the bulk of their worldly possessions without a shred of compassion or regret. And Kate hadn't lifted a finger to stop him. Suzie's rejection had been a bitter blow. She had shown utter disregard for Kate's feelings. And Kate had reacted, not like an adult, but like an angry adolescent. She should have held onto her dignity, and demanded that Suzie respect her, not quarreled with her daughter like a petulant child. Michael's indifference stemmed from his ignorance. Kate had never once told Michael any

of the facts concerning the divorce settlement. She had wanted to protect him. She should have realized Michael was an adult, and didn't need her protection. Lila's treachery was no more than the catalyst that converged to hasten the inevitable. Why had it taken her so long to see what was now so clear? The pain of acceptance was devastating, but Kate forced herself to face a truth she had refused to come to grips with for three long years. What she had chosen to call strength, had been, in reality the line of least resistance. She should have stood up to Jim, demanded respect from Suzie, and been strong enough to tell Michael all the facts. Once past the initial pain, Kate acknowledged her folly, and the consequences. A lingering ache lodged around her heart, but with order from the chaos of old memories, came peace of mind. She pulled the chain on the light, and plunged the room into darkness. The sleep that took her was swift and sweet. It seemed she had scarcely closed her eyes when

she heard a voice calling, "Kate, get up." She put a pillow over her head, and turned over. "Go away, Mamma. It can't be morning yet. I just closed my eyes." "It's six o'clock. Time to rise and shine." Kate complained, "There should be a law against being so cheerful so early in the morning." Belle pulled the chain on the light, flooding the room with brightness. "Today's festival day. We want to get an early start. Breakfast is waiting and Cody's doing the outside chores. Come eat." She hurried from the room without waiting for an answer. Kate dragged herself from bed and began to dress. She combed her hair, applied lipstick, then leaned very near the mirror, and studied the face that looked back at her. "You're not a bad looking old girl, considering," From the doorway, Belle asked, "Considering

what?" Coming across the room, she handed Kate a cup of coffee, then sat on the bed. Kate laid the comb on the dresser, and turned to face her mother. "Considering that I've spent the last three years of my life with my head in the sand." "I swear Kate, sometimes you talk in riddles." Kate sipped her coffee, then wiped away the lipstick smear that hung on the rim. "Don't swear, Mamma. It's not ladylike." She smiled, thinking it was not every day she could beat Belle at her own game. "My Lord," Belle was grinning as she exited the room. "There's nothing worse than a smart-mouthed kid." Kate followed Belle across the living room, saying to her mother's back, "I'm not a kid, Mamma." "I was going to cook your eggs. Now I think I'll let you do it. What did you do, grow up over

night?" Belle sat at the kitchen table and sipped from her coffee cup. "Cold as Christmas." She pushed the cup away. Kate refilled Belle's cup, then opened the refrigerator, and stood staring at its contents. "Is that possible?" "Is what possible? Cook an egg for me, too." "Can somebody grow up over night?" Kate dropped eggs into hot grease. "Depends on who you spent the night with. I can remember a few times I went to bed feeling like a girl, and woke up the next day feeling like a natural woman." "Mamma honestly!" Kate the plate of eggs on the table. The scraping of feet on the back step, heralded Cody's entrance. "Things are all done up outside. Are you ladies ready to hit the road?" "Mamma's not a lady," Kate reached for a biscuit.

"She's a woman, but I don't think she can qualify as a lady." Cody snickered. "I must have missed something. Did you two have a disagreement?" Belle smiled. "A little one. It must have started about the time Kate learned to talk. But this time I agree with my daughter. I'm a woman, and Kate's a lady, but she's not a woman yet. I think she needs a few more nights to grow up." Cody sat down beside Belle. "Yep, I missed something." He took a long drink from Belle's coffee cup. "Stick out your tongue, woman." "Do you mean me?" Belle asked. "I must, since you're the only woman in here." Belle let her tongue slip through her lips. "Wike dis?" Her teeth gripping her tongue distorted her words. "Yep. I was right." A twitch pulled at Cody's whiskers.

"About what?" Kate was too curious not to ask. With a wag of his head, Cody declared, "Belle's tongue has barbed wire growing right out of it." Cody and Kate burst into laughter. Feigning indignation, Belle pushed her plate back. "It's not enough that I have a smart mouthed daughter who waits until she's forty-six years old to grow up, then does it by spurts and jerks in the middle of the night, now I have a man with a razor sharp wit and a tongue to match." "Are you complaining, Mamma?" "Yes, I wish it had happened years ago." Without stopping to catch her breath, Belle directed, "Kate, get the quilt off the couch. Cody, you get the picnic lunch." She stood and pushed her chair under the table. "Wear a hat, Kate. It will be hot outside today." Kate went for the quilt, then waited with Belle on the porch for Cody to bring his pickup around

from the barn. The sides of the road to St. Agnes were ablaze with spring flowers. Kate thought she had never before seen such a riot of color. "The countryside is beautiful." "It's springtime in the brush country." Cody made a small sweeping gesture with his hand. "In most places spring slips up behind, and taps you on the shoulder. In South Texas she looks you right in the eye, then slugs you in the gut." Cody and Belle began to discuss the various kinds of wild flowers that grew along the roadside. Kate leaned her head back, and listened to the spirited debate that sprang up between them. "A bluebonnet is not a flower, it's a weed." Cody asserted. "It's a pretty weed, but all the same, it's a weed." "Tell me," Belle argued, with the illogical reasoning that punctuated so many of her

arguments, "how a state flower can be a weed?" Even before they reached the city limits of St. Agnes, traffic was stacked bumper to bumper along the narrow farm to market road. "Where do we park?" Belle looked toward the fairgrounds. "I think that man up there is showing us." Cody pulled on to the shoulder of the road, and drove across an open field. A skinny young man wearing a red arm band, and brandishing a neon stick, pointed to an open spot at the end of a long line of cars. As Belle and Cody were taking off their jackets, and locking doors, Kate began to walk toward the fairgrounds, intrigued by what she saw. "Look, Mamma, it's like a circus, a fair, and a carnival, all rolled into one." She had to shout to make herself heard over the blast of music and the noise of the crowd. "I never saw so many people." Belle observed.

"Half of South Texas must be here." Cody caught her hand. "Let's go exploring, Belle." "We'll meet here at noon," Belle called to Kate. "We can find a table and have lunch." Kate wanted no restrictions placed on her this day. It had been a long time since she had felt so care free and glad to be alive. "I won't be here for lunch." Her boot heels sank deeper into the soft soil of the field. "I'll see you at five this afternoon. I can't miss the old fiddler's contest." Belle opened her mouth to protest. "Let her go, Belle," Cody held onto Belle's hand. "She needs some time alone." Belle nodded her agreement, as hand in hand they begin to walk toward the fairground. Stepping through the fairground gate was like stepping into another world. A temporary world whose facade of make-believe covered the seamy

reality of a more permanent existence. Today, Kate decided, she would buy illusion, and not count the cost. There would be time enough tomorrow to barter back her losses. Kate wandered around the fairgrounds, taking her time in seeing a kaleidoscope of sights. She watched the cloggers perform, then stopped to buy a smoked turkey leg. Admiring the turquoise and silver jewelry in a little corner booth took a considerable amount of time. Funnel cake sounded like a misnomer, and smelled like heaven. Kate slipped into a booth under an awning, and placed her order. After eating the last delicious crumb, she licked her sticky finger, and continued her wanderings. She was set to turn yet another corner, and meander toward the livestock show, when she spotted a five-piece band playing under a canvas covered pavilion. Kate found a seat on a back bench, and sat down to listen to the band and watch the couples who danced on a raised platform in the center of the covered area.

She had scarcely found her seat, and given her sticky fingers one last lick and swipe down the sides of her jeans, when her eyes were pulled to the profile of a tall man who sat on the bench beside her. It was York Taylor. He wore jeans, a plaid shirt, and snake skin boots. Even attired in western regalia, he looked suave and cosmopolitan, but not out of place. It was not his physical appearance that moved Kate, it was the look of abject sadness that filled his eyes, and gilded his finely chiseled features. Acting instinctively, Kate reached across the small space between them, and touched his hand. "York?" As he turned, York's thoughts seemed to be making that long journey back from a place in his mind. "Kate McClure, as I live and breathe. I didn't see you sit down." "You were a million miles away." Kate let her fingers wrap around his slim hand. "Are you all right?"

"Yes -- no. Not really. Memories were taking their toll. My wife, Carol, and I came here to dance each year. "I couldn't help remembering how she used to..." His voice broke. His sad words bent Kate's mind to the distressing memory of the time she gone back to the house she and Jim had shared for over twenty years, to pick up the last of her belongings. She had been functioning for months as a normal human being. Once inside the house, she fell apart, completely. "I understand." For a long time, York said nothing, just held her hand and fought tears. After a while, the mask fell into place, his fingers relaxed, and he asked, "Where is your mother?" "Around somewhere." Kate tried to pull her hand away. York tightened his grip. "I need to hold on a little longer." A self-effacing smile tugged at his lips. "It would not be seemly for St. Agnes's bank president, and leading citizen to fall apart at the

Bluebonnet Festival." Kate squeezed his hand. "Are you alone?" "More than you will ever know." His Adams's apple moved up and down as he swallowed deeply. "These memories crop up at the oddest times." Kate had the feeling she was seeing a side of York Taylor that very few people ever witnessed. His vulnerability to his wife's memory touched her as nothing else could have. "You loved her, didn't you?" He lowered his head, and closed his eyes. "Yes, very much" Kate's compassionate heart bled. "Is there anything I can do?" "Are you offering me a shoulder to cry on?" He turned toward her, and tried to smile. "If you need one, yes."

"I could use some company." Looking around, he asked, "Are you alone?" "I came with Mamma and Cody. I'm on my own until five this afternoon." The aftermath of sadness still lingered in York's eyes. His touch on her hand was as gentle as a baby's breath. "Would you like to spend that time with me? I promise not to cry on your shoulder." She wanted to tell him so many things, instead, she answered with a silent nod of her head. York pulled her to her feet. "Where shall we go first?" He manacled her wrist with his long fingers. "Would you like to see the carnival rides and the side shows?" The feeling that swept over Kate was protective, almost maternal. In this throng of humanity York had been alone and grieving. "I love the Ferris wheel." "Would you like to ride it?"

Kate demurred. "I don't think that would be wise. A ride like that after all the food I've consumed might be a mistake." "Then we'll see the side shows. Have you seen the two-headed calf?" "Two-headed calf?" Kate shook her head in disbelief. " I don't think such a creature exists." "Such a skeptic," York teased. He was still holding onto her hand. "Let's go." They made their way through the crowds of people. The trip was faintly reminiscent of her journey through the booths at the auction with Hank. Hank had inspired friendly hello's, good-natured slaps on the backs, and breathless feminine hello's. York commanded deference, and esteem coupled with respect. Hank had appeared to be on a first-name basis with half the residents of Atascosa County. York was greeted with courteous, Mr. Taylor's and respectful, sir's. He led her to the far end of the grounds, past the carnival rides, to the line of tiny trailers that held

the side show attractions. "Over there. See?" The sign emblazoned across the top of the trailer cried silently: SEE THE TWO HEADED CALF. "That thing is not alive." Kate stared at the crude drawings of a calf with two heads. "That's not real." She then questioned, with much less assurance, "Is it?" "Occasionally such a creature is born," York said with gravity. "but I think what that trailer holds is nothing more than a taxidermist's nightmare. Do you want to see it?" Kate shuddered. "No." "Then let's have our picture made." York pointed to a booth that housed a tiny studio and countless costumes. They rummaged through the costumes, trying to decide what to wear for a portrait. Finally, York announced, "I think I'll be a bandit." "A bandit?" Kate laughed. "Why?"

"It's as far from reality as I can get." Kate held up a spangled costume replete with ruffles. "Then I'll be a cancan dancer. Pure fantasy has it's merits." They laughed at the picture, then posed again, this time in attire resembling costumes out ofGone With the Wind. "Do you think I make a fair Rhett Butler?" York asked, as he put two of the pictures in his inside coat pocket, and offered the other two to Kate. Kate studied his sharp, patrician features. "You make a better Ashley Wilkes." "Would you consider being my Melanie?" Kate could think of no appropriate answer to that. "Thank you for the pictures," She said, primly. York smiled, and changed the subject. "Now we have a memento of this day."

"I think I will remember, anyway, but thank you." Kate tucked the picture into her handbag. York offered her his arm. They began to move through the crowd. "I need proof," He smiled down at her. "Otherwise, I may think that I dreamed you. The picture proves you aren't an illusion." "How sweet you are." Kate smiled back, directly into his eyes. "That's not a well-known fact. If the truth ever got out, my image might suffer. Most people think of me as a shrewd, calculating opportunist." "I'll guard your secret." Kate met his bantering tone with flippant ease. Thinking as she did so, that here was a man who denied, perhaps, even to himself, the depths of his own emotions. After throwing balls at bottles, stacked pyramid fashion, and missing, they tossed darts at balloons. Kate was no good at that, either, but York hit with deadly accuracy, several times.

They ate spun sugar candy from cardboard cones, and laughingly agreed that they had more of the sticky stuff on the outside than they had managed to put inside. As they passed the shooting gallery, York said, "My forte. I can hit a bull's eye at forty paces." The proof of his proficiency was a huge stuffed panda with a gigantic red ribbon around its neck. Kate hefted the well-padded creature onto her hip. "What am I supposed to do with him?" "Is he a him?" York patted the stuffed animal on its head. "He's wearing a ribbon. Maybe he's a she." "So she is," Kate agreed. "I'll see that she has a good home." Kate stopped to admire a bright blue dress hanging on a rack in a little stand that looked as if it had been lifted from the market square in Mexico City. "Look at the embroidery around the neck."

York offered, "Let me hold Gertrude while you look." "Gertrude?" Kate questioned. "Your newly acquired stuffed monstrosity." York held out his arms. With a smile, Kate surrendered Gertrude, and began to inspect the garment. Temptation overtook her. She bought the blue dress. "I can't believe I did this," she told York, as they moved back into the flow of people. "I have no place to wear such a colorful creation." "I thought you were buying it for the street dance tonight. Do you want to carry Gertrude?" Kate sank down on a bench, and held out her arms. "We're leaving after the old fiddler's contest. Cody and Mamma have baby chicks at home." York sat down beside her and looked at the expensive watch strapped around his wrist. "Have

lunch with me." Her puzzled look caused him to explain. "We can go to the steak house behind the auction arena. Have you ever been there?" "Yes." That was the place she had gone with Hank the day he took her to the First Monday sale. "I didn't realize we were so near the auction barn." "The barn abuts the fair ground." York stood, and held out his hand. "Are you and Gertrude interested?" "I can't believe it, but I'm hungry. And Gertrude is starved." As they entered the steak house, Kate spied Mindy across the room, and waved. Mindy turned away. It was reasonable to assume that Mindy didn't remember her, Kate decided. It was better to believe that than to think she was being snubbed. "You certainly got the VIP treatment," Kate said as a hostess bypassed several waiting customers to

immediately show them to a table. She put Gertrude in the empty chair beside her, and looked across the table at York. "All this 'yes, Mr. Taylor', and 'no, Mr. Taylor'. I'm impressed." From over the top of his menu, York smiled. "I do hope so. Do you want coffee?" "Yes, please, and a steak." Mindy appeared, pad and pencil in hand, to take their order. "Good day, Mr. Taylor. May I help you?" "Hello, Mindy," Kate greeted, "Remember me? I met you some time back." Mindy studied the point of her pencil, refusing to look Kate's way. "Yes ma'am, I recall." Kate wondered if she did. "You commented on my red hair." "I hope you didn't think I was being impolite, ma'am."

"Well, of course, I didn't." What was wrong with this girl? Quite suddenly, the light dawned. The difference was the man Kate was with. The last time it had been 'ole Hank.' Today it wasMr. Taylor. Kate studied her menu and shut her mouth. They had finished their salads, and were waiting for steaks to arrive when Kate looked up to see Hank coming through the entrance with Gina on his arm. She waved. "There's Hank." York's head swivelled to look behind him. "And his current woman." Hank was bearing down on them, with Gina hanging onto his arm as if he were her own private possession. York reached across the table and touched Kate's hand. "You look as if you have seen a ghost." "Not a ghost, an angry man, and he's coming to our table." York's facial muscles tightened. "Pay him no

mind." Hand came to stand between Kate and York. Without so much as a hello, he glared down at Kate. "I've been looking for you." Kate couldn't imagine why. "Is something wrong?" Hank pushed Gertrude toward York, then yanked a chair from the table behind him and sat down next to Kate. Nodding toward Gina, he bit out, "Get lost." "I'll wait here." Gina cast a nervous glance in York's direction, as she let her hands rest on the chair across from Hank. "Suit yourself." Hank shrugged. Gina pulled the chair out and sat down. "You are interrupting our meal, Sinclair." York's voice was a knife slicing the tense air. "This won't take long, and it has to be said."

Hank never took his eyes off Kate. "The sooner I get this off my chest the sooner it will stop gnawing at me." Kate glanced around the restaurant. Many curious eyes were turned in her direction. "This is not the place, Hank, please, not now." "You could have told me days ago that you wanted to come to the festival. Why didn't you?" His smooth voice carried a razor sharp edge. Before Kate could answer, York intervened. "You're out of line, Sinclair. Kate is with me, and I will not stand by and let you intimidate her." Kate didn't need this, not now, not when everything was going so well. She kept her voice firm. "It's all right, York. Hank has every reason to be angry. I should have told him days ago I wasn't going to make my ride today, and I didn't." Shifting her gaze to Hank, Kate forced herself to say. "I'm sorry. It was a thoughtless thing to do." Maybe her apology would placate him.

Again, York intervened. "How often do you make this ride, Kate." For the first time, Hank looked in York's direction, the green in his eyes shot glints of fire. "Stay out of this, Taylor. It's none of your business." "Kate?" York demanded an answer. Kate swallowed over the lump in her throat. "Every day." Mindy was suddenly at the table, carrying two platters, and greeting Hank and Gina with good humor. "Hi, you all. Do you want to order?" "Later, Mindy." Hank waved the request aside. The tension around the table snapped like an exposed electric wire. Mindy was no fool. She sat the platters on the table, and sped away. "Don't you think that asking Kate to work seven days a week, fifty-two weeks a year, is expecting too much, Sinclair?" York pulled his platter of

food toward him, and began to cut his steak into small pieces. "I warned you, Kate. Your duties should have been explicitly stated." Hank looked across at Gina who was listening with avid interest to every word spoken. "Get out of here, Gina. Go to the powder room, or somewhere." "But Hank," Gina's pretty face screwed up in a frown. "Make yourself scarce." Gina stood and slammed the chair under the table, then with a look over her shoulder that warned of some future retaliation, she flounced away. Only after she was out of ear shot, did Hank speak again, and in a voice so bland, yet so fraught with venom, that Kate felt the skin on her neck crawl. "Butt out, Taylor."

If she had not been looking directly into York's face, she would have missed it, That shadow that danced across his granite countenance, then disappeared in the cold light of his chiseled smile. But she had seen it, a brief reflection of hate so intense it caused Kate's blood to run cold. "I only want to act as a mediator in this dispute. I believe I can offer a solution." Hank pushed his hat back. "That will be the day, Taylor, when you and I can settle a dispute." "I can spare a cowhand to make Kate's ride when she wants a day off. Kate could inform me, and the day before would be soon enough." York paused, then brought his fork toward his mouth, and held it in mid air. "Well?" Hank laughed, an ugly sound from deep in his throat. "Go to Hell, Taylor. I shouldn't have mentioned this in front of you." His spurs made little jangling sounds as he stood to his feet. "I'll talk to you later, Kate." "One of these days," York warned, "that temper of yours is going to get you into trouble,

Sinclair." Hank narrowed his eyes. "You may be right. If I ever decide to settle old scores, you are at the top of my list, Taylor." A white line traced itself around York's mouth. "Are you threatening me?" He could not disguise the tremor that threaded itself through his inquiry. Watching the bitter confrontation between these two, Kate thought, York is afraid of Hank, actually, literally, petrified. She wondered why. Hank seemed the last person in the world to cause bodily harm to anyone. "Good-bye, Hank." Kate hoped her casual farewell would send Hank on his way. Hank stood and hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans. "We can settle this later. So long Kate, see you around." Kate sighed her relief, as she watched Hank collect Gina, and sit down in a booth across the restaurant.

"I'm sorry, York. I had no idea Hank would come here and make a scene." "He has a vicious temper, Kate. You don't know the man." York laid his fork on the table. "Let's talk of more pleasant things." Kate was more than happy to do that. As they were finishing dessert, York asked, "What would you like to do this afternoon?" Surprise brought Kate's head up. "Find Mamma, find a bench. I'm tired." "You do look a little weary. I have a town house here in St. Agnes. Let me take you there. You can rest, maybe take a nap." Caution took over. "I think I'd better find Mamma." "I own an apartment complex over on Grant Street." When Kate opened her mouth to protest that he didn't have to explain, York, held up his hand and hurried on. "I kept the place for Carol.

Toward the last, even a trip to town was too much for her. She needed to rest before we started home again. I'll give you the key, and drive you there." The best Kate could offer was a little grunt. "Oh." An array of emotions skipped across York's face. "You thought I was asking you to go there with me?" "The thought crossed my mind." "I seldom go there. I...It's difficult to explain. Some of Carol's things are still there." "You don't have to explain. I understand." Kate held out her hand. "I think I will go. Maybe I can I take a shower. I'm wearing a film of funnel cake with an overlay of cotton candy." York laid the key in her hand. "Will you wear that dress you bought today, and stay for the dance tonight? I can drive you home afterward. It's on my way."

"I don't know. Mamma and Cody..." "Please, Kate, it would mean so much to me. I haven't been to a street dance since..." His voice broke. "Carol died." Kate closed her hand over the key. "I'd love to go to the dance with you."

CHAPTER NINE

"You can't stop smiling, can you?" Kate sat beside Belle in the second row of the outdoor contest pavilion. Belle cut her eyes in Kate's direction, then stood to her feet. "I have plenty to smile about."

Kate moved her legs to let Belle pass. "Cody was wonderful." "I told you he'd win." Belle clapped her hands together. "He's a born musician." "I agree, Mamma, he was absolutely superb." The moment Cody had lifted his bow, the fiddlers' contest had ceased to be a contest. "Maybe you'd better go rescue him." Kate nodded toward the stage where a group of well-wishers had collected around a smiling Cody, offering congratulations. "Cody can manage." Pride beamed golden on Belle's face. She collected her handbag and a large shopping bag, stuffed to overflowing. "Are you ready to go home?" "What did you buy?" Kate eyed the bulging shopping bag. "That's quite a load. Can you manage?" "I can manage. Can you manage, Katie baby?" "Manage what?" Kate began, then stopped to heave a long breath. There was no mistaking that

particular tone of voice. "Don't start with me, Mamma." "We can talk about it on the way home." "I'm not going home with you, Mamma. York has asked me to stay and go to the street dance with him." Kate waited for some reaction from Belle, and got none. "Cody was the winner, hands down. The decision was unanimous." Belle hooked her handbag over her arm and picked up her shopping bag. "Five judges agreed that Cody was the best. Not that I'm one bit surprised." She began to make her way to the end of the row of chairs. Kate followed along after. "Mamma, did you hear me?" "I heard you. What did you say?" "I said," Kate enunciated each word. "I'm staying in town. I'm going to the street dance with York." She wanted to give Belle a good shake. "You heard me the first time."

Belle set her shopping bag on the vacant chair at the end of the row. "That's a pretty dress, Kate. Did you buy it here?" "No, Mamma, I bought it in Paris, France." On the end of an exasperated snort, Kate fumed. "Of course, it came from here. I found it in a little booth..." On a sudden burst of insight, Kate asked, "Who told you, Mamma?" "Told me what?" Belle asked with child-like simplicity. Don't start," Kate warned, "Who told you I was with York Taylor?" "Were you?" Belle turned her head to one side, and smiled. "That's interesting." "We went shopping and to lunch, then..." Suspicion narrowed Kate's eyes. "You know already, don't you?" "Know what?" There was a hint of a smile behind Belle's ingenuous gaze.

Kate reminded herself that patience was a virtue."Who told you I went to York's town house?" "Did you do that, Kate? I'm surprised." Belle succeeded in looking properly dismayed. "If I were going to shack up with a man, I'd sneak around, not just go to his town house in the bright light of day for all of St. Agnes to see." Kate exploded. "Look whose talking about shacking up." "Did you say Paris? It looks more like Mexico City." Belle reached out and touched the lacy collar on Kate's dress. "Is this lace handmade?" "Mamma, damn it, don't try to change the subject." Kate dropped into the chair next to Belle's shopping bag. "Somebody has a big mouth. I want to know who. And for your further enlightenment, York didn't stay. I was there alone." Belle had the decency to look chagrined, Moving

her shopping bag to the floor, she sat down beside Kate. "And you told me you grew up last night." Kate fought to keep her voice low. "Aren't you going to tell me not to swear?" "I guess I could." Belle's guilty conscience was making her too agreeable. "Don't swear, Kate. Are you satisfied? Or do you want an apology too?" "Do you want to apologize, Mamma?" Kate stared toward the group of people on the elevated stage. "I think I should." Belle studied her daughter's grim profile. "I'm sorry your man got away." "Good Lord, Mamma!" Kate's head swung around with lightening speed. "What a thing to say!" By now Cody had broken away from the last well-wisher, and was descending the steps along the side of the stage. "Two hundred dollars. Think of it, Kate." He called out as he came down the

aisle. "That's wonderful, Cody." "That's a lot of money, and I've already spent a part of it." He came to stand beside Belle's chair. "Just this afternoon Hank offered to sell me one of his Hampshire shoats and a brood sow." Belle stood to her feet and begin to send Cody little signals with her eyes, but he was too excited to notice. "Kate's not going home with us." She began to gather up her bags. "Staying with York, huh?" Cody took the heavy shopping bag from Belle. "How did you ever guess?" Kate thought she knew the answer already. "That high stepping filly Hank had with him gave us quite an ear full." Cody hooked the bag over his arm. Belle called over her shoulder, as she hurried away, "We have to go. See you at home, Katie

baby." Ignoring Belle, Kate called after Cody, "Are you talking about Gina Morton?" Turning, Cody snapped his fingers. "That's her name. I knew she had a movie star's name and a movie star's bust line. It was Gina." Cody hurried after Belle's rapidly moving figure. "Wait for me." He called over his shoulder, "Have fun, Kate." Kate had a strong urge to catch up to her mother, and give her a good shake, then find Hank and Gina, and lambast the both of them. But she had promised to meet York for the street dance at six-thirty. The roped off area was all the way across the fair grounds. She glanced at her watch. It flashed six-fifteen. She would talk to Mamma later. As Kate threaded her way through the milling crowd, her anger began to cool. Hadn't York warned her that little towns were hot beds of gossip? Maybe beds was the operative word. That thought brought a smile to her lips.

Kate reached the bleachers that lined one side of the street at exactly six-thirty. She scanned the area, looking for York. He was nowhere in sight. With a shrug, she sat down on the bottom row and watched the passing crowd. Second thoughts about what she had said to Belle earlier brought a bite of guilt. She had no idea what Hank and Gina had told her mother. The one thing she never wanted to do again, was jump to conclusions. With that thought, came again, the bitter remembrance of her quarrel with Suzie. Would she ever be able to make things right with her daughter again? A tear slid from her eye and rolled down her cheek. As Kate raised her arm to brush it away, long fingers locked around her hand. She turned to see York sitting beside her. "I didn't see you sit down." His fingers tightened. "That's my line, remember? Do you need a shoulder to cry on?" The tears in her eyes distorted his handsome face. "Are you offering one?" "If you need it, yes." He laid his arm across her shoulder. "Why the tears, Kate?"

It seemed the most natural thing in the world to explain. "I quarreled with my daughter over two years ago, and I haven't seen her since. After all this time, I may have a chance for a reconciliation, and I'm scared." York's tone was sympathetic. "In a way you are most fortunate." "To have a quarrel with my daughter?" "To have a daughter. Carol couldn't have children." "Oh, York." Kate's hand flew to his cheek in a gesture of comfort. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea." York caught her hand before she could pull it away. "Of course, you didn't. His mouth moved to kiss her palm. Kate retrieved her hand, and lowered her head. "People are staring." "Are you concerned that people will talk?" He

caught her hand in his. "I don't mind in the least." He may as well know. "I'm glad you don't mind, because someone is already talking." "And who could that someone be?" His fingers caressing the back of her hand. Kate's cheeks bloomed with color. "Hank and Gina saw us go into your town house. They mentioned it to Cody and Mamma." "I do believe you're blushing. You shouldn't. You've done nothing to be ashamed of." York's arm found its way back around Kate's shoulder. "I warned you about little-town gossips, and about Hank Sinclair. He can be vicious. And Gina is little more than the town tramp." Kate thought that was rather a harsh assessment. "How did they know?" "Gina lives at the apartment complex. Hank goes there often. Maybe Hank and Gina were indulging in a little of what they accused us of doing."

That revelation sent a rush of renewed anger surging through Kate. "The hypocrites!" "It's best forgotten, Kate. Don't let petty people get to you." That sounded like good advise. "You're right." Kate's eyes scanned the street and the dancers. "The music is beautiful. But I don't recognize the dance." "It's a Mexican dance, called a cumbia. Do you like Tejano music?" "What is that?" Kate asked, fascinated by the way the soft Spanish words slid off York's tongue. York turned his head to one side. "How can I explain? Except to say Tejano is to Mexican music what western is to American music." "Maybe I should stay with western." Kate watched the dancers move about in a wide circle to the syncopated beat of the music. "The steps are so fast, and complicated, at the same time so

graceful." "That's an apt description of Tejano dancing," York told her as the last strains of music died away. Then, crying violins replaced the sound of ringing accordions. "Would you like to dance?" York held out his hand. "The band is playing a waltz." "I'd love to." Kate preceded him into the roped off section of the street. York was a precise, careful dancer, but Kate couldn't seem to relax. York's hold around her waist tightened. "I like holding you." "It's been a long time since I've danced." She felt the tension in her body began to ease. "No one would ever know. You're so beautiful, a vision of grace and color."

Kate looked up, set to deny his words, and read the sincerity of his compliment etched in the smile on his face, the gleam in his eyes. "We do make a striking couple." "Like a prince charming and his lady love? Why not, didn't we agree that fantasy has its merits?" He swung her gracefully across the dance area. They danced several dances. Kate mustered up her courage, and with York leading her slowly through the steps, tried some of the less complicated Tejano dances. Darkness fell, and a gentle breeze blew in from the south, caressing the trees, and whispering like some misplaced wraith, through the ribald music and raucous cries of the dancers. After a fast Mexican polka, Kate fell onto the end of a bleacher, and tried to catch her breath. "I think I'd better sit the next one out." "I'll get you something to drink." York offered. "What will it be?"

Kate leaned back and thought for a few moments. "Could I have a beer?" "Beer it is." York turned to go. "I'll be back. Don't go away." Kate watched him push his way through the milling crowd toward the refreshment stands until he was swallowed up in the swirl of humanity that ebbed and flowed like a restless sea. Kate's eyes wandered upward to look at the vaulted dome of sky overhead. Sapphire stars spiked through a velvet cover, and a crescent moon hung like a tilted canoe near the western horizon. A raspy voice intruded into her thoughts. "You should have asked for water." Kate turned to see the tall figure of Hank Sinclair standing directly behind her. Anger, mixed with fright, stiffened her spine. "Are you trying to scare me out of my wits?" The intimation of a smile hovered around his

mouth, and stopped just short of his restless eyes. "I wouldn't want to deprive you of your wits." He came around the end of the bleachers and sat down beside her. "You may decide some day to use them." "You were eavesdropping. Do you make a habit of going around butting into things that don't concern you?" Kate's voice snapped with indignation. "You are my concern, Kate. You're my employee. I want you on the job in the morning, not somewhere in bed with York Taylor, nursing a hangover." Was he trying to make her angry? It crossed Kate's mind that if she flew into a blind rage, and slapped his arrogant face, it would be no more than he deserved. "You're not going to upset me with your sarcastic remarks." "You're already upset." Hank propped his booted feet on the bleacher in front of him. "Has Taylor been telling you what a rotten bastard I am?"

"Not everybody goes around telling every thing they know." Kate's eyes darkened with smoldering scorn. "Or see." Who was he, to sit in judgment on her, when just this afternoon he had been in bed with Gina Morton? "You couldn't wait to tell Mamma and Cody that you saw me going into York's town house, could you?" "What's wrong with telling the truth?" Hank questioned on the end of a amused chuckle. "And I didn't tell them, Gina did." "Why would she do that?" Kate's irritation was directed, partially, toward herself. Her lips pulled into a narrow, uncompromising line. One of Hank's shoulders rose and fell in a careless shrug. "You'd have to ask Gina that." "Where is Gina?" Kate glanced around her. "Over there." Hank inclined his head toward the throng of dancers, then observed with blasé indifference, "Something tells me York didn't get any farther in his fancy town house than I did in my lowly line shack. You're as uptight and

nervous as a tom cat in a room full of rocking chairs." Kate returned his insolent stare. "I won't dignify that with an answer." "Hank, Honey," Gina had detached herself from a tall cowboy, and was walking toward the bleachers. When she recognized Kate, she stopped in her tracks. "I can't leave you for a minute, can I Hank honey?" "Hello, Gina." Kate greeted the other woman with enough ice in her voice to freeze a square mile of Arizona desert. Her uneasiness apparent, Gina answered. "Hi, Kate. Your name is Kate?" Hank chuckled as Gina hooked her hand through his arm. "You know the lady's name. Gina." Then over his shoulder, he called, "See you tomorrow, Kate." "Not," Kate said under her breath, "if I see you first." She heaved a sigh of relief as Hank and

Gina dissolved into the flow of the crowd. York emerged from the human sea, and came toward her with a beer in each hand, causing Kate to dismiss the entire incident from her mind. It was well past midnight before Kate and York left the dance. As York drove onto the interstate, Kate rested her head against the back of the plush seat, and smiled. "I had a lovely time." York's long fingers held the steering wheel with practiced ease. "I'm glad, because so did I." Kate closed her eyes, as the memories of the evening slid through her mind. "Kate?" She raised her head. "Yes?" "I saw Hank Sinclair talking to you this evening. Did he annoy you while I was away?" She hadn't realized that York has seen Hank. "No. Not really."

"But he did accost you?" York glanced briefly in her direction. "Accost is a strong word. I think Hank wanted to give me a bad time. He was his usual offensive self." York shook his head. "I'm sure he spent most of his time maligning my character." In the darkness Kate smiled to herself. "As a matter of fact, he spent most of his time asking if you had been maligning his character. What is it with you two, anyway?" She heard the amusement in York's voice. "If I told you I'd have to malign Mr. Sinclair's character." But Kate sensed a turbulent hatred beneath his moderate words. Curiosity overrode discretion. "Why does he hate you, York?" "The same reason I hate him. It goes back a long way." The dim dash light cast eerie shadows

across York's rigid profile. "We grew up together. Our families were neighbors, our fathers were friends. We attended the same schools, moved in the same circles, then..." York's voice died away, as if the subject was too painful to discuss. "You don't have to tell me." "Somebody will, sooner or later." York's breath dragged through his throat. "Maybe I'm selfish, but I'd like you to hear my version first." Kate wondered what could possibly bring such agony to the face of this controlled man. She folded her hands in her lap, and gave York her undivided attention. "Sinclair and I were rivals through high school. Nothing vindictive or malicious, just healthy teenage competition in sports and academics, and with girls. But underneath all that healthy rivalry, we shared a basic dislike for each other. A lot of people thought I was jealous of him, because he always seemed to come out the winner, in everything, but I wasn't, until Carol came along."

"Your wife?" Surprise tilted Kate's voice upward. "Yes, she was so beautiful, so young and trusting, and so vulnerable to a man like Sinclair." York swallowed, deeply. "York, maybe..." Kate wasn't sure she wanted to hear this after all. York continued in a goaded voice, "We both dated her, but it was Sinclair who won her heart. She thought he was going to marry her." "How do you know all this?" Kate was wide awake now, and listening intently. "Carol told me, years later, after we were married. Most of it came out in bits and pieces, over a long period of time." "Maybe we shouldn't talk about it anymore." Kate hated seeing York in such pain. "No, let me finish." York held up one hand. "He deserted her, Kate. My Carol was pregnant with

his child, and he walked away and left her." "Did Hank know Carol was going to have a baby, his baby?" Recollections of what Hank had said in the line shack about not making promises floated around the edges of Kate's memory. "Of course he knew. He didn't give a damn." Kate didn't want to believe Hank would be that heartless, but those words he had said to her that day in the line shack, came back now, with haunting clarity."I never make promises I know I wouldn't keep." After a painful silence, Kate asked, "What happened then?" Over a tortured sigh, York continued. "Sinclair went off to college, and Carol, who was little more than a scared child, went to some butcher in San Antonio, and had an illegal abortion. Complications set in, and she almost lost her life. She never fully recovered, and she was never able to have another child."

"How terrible," Kate sympathized. York's hands tightened into a death grip on the steering wheel. "When Carol was well enough to go back to school, her parents sent her to a private school in San Antonio. They thought it best that she didn't come back to St. Agnes to face all the gossip and painful memories." "Hank must have known what happened." A sad ache moved in around Kate's heart. How Carol must have suffered. "Did he try to see Carol?" "Sinclair came home several times in the next four years. Carol wasn't here. She stayed in San Antonio and went to college. She became a teacher. She saw teaching as some kind of compensation. She couldn't bear children, so the next best thing was working with them." Kate couldn't bear the agony that etched itself into York's every word. "I've heard enough." York ignored her plea. "Five years later, Carol did come back to St. Agnes to accept a teaching position in the elementary school. I had just taken

over the reins of the bank after my father had retired. Carol and I begin to see each other." "And you were married," Kate asserted, hoping to end the story, and York's obvious pain. "Not right away. That happened two years later. I would have married her the month after she returned, but Carol held out all that time. She felt it was unfair for her to marry me and not be able to give me children. It took me that long to convince her that I loved her, and it didn't matter that she couldn't have children." His voice rose in pitch and volume. "It didn't matter to me, but oh, how it mattered to her." The vehemence in his outcry lashed like a wet rope across Kate's tender heart. "I'm so sorry." York released his grip and let his fingers slide loosely around the steering wheel. "Now can you understand why I hate Hank Sinclair?" Kate was more shaken than she cared to admit. "I understand so many things now."

"I hope you don't think I was saying these things to play on your sympathy," York stopped his car before the gate to Paradise. Should she tell him he had aroused her sympathy, as few people had ever done before? That would be unwise. He didn't want sympathy, and she could understand that. "I'm glad you told me." She got out of the car, and hurried to open the gate. As York brought the car to a stop beside the house, he dropped his hands from the steering wheel, and turned to look at Kate. "I want to see you again, Kate." Kate opened the door and was thankful for the dome light that spread brightness through the car. "I know." "May I call you?" Why was she suddenly afraid? Kate lifted Gertrude into her arms, and pushed the door with her elbow. "We don't have a telephone."

"Perhaps I can come by some night on my way home." She could hear the hope in his voice. "I have Mama's wedding next week." "Then may I call on Gertrude? I look on her as a friend." The words were bantering; the tone was determined. She was making excuses, and she didn't know why. "My children will be here. I'll see you at the wedding." She attempted to lighten the moment. "You can call on Gertrude then, too." His smile told her that he knew she was feeling threatened. "I won't push you, but I won't give up either. When is the wedding?" "Next Saturday, at two-thirty. I hope you will come, but I have to warn you Hank will be here." York's back stiffened, "And Gina? Is she coming too?" "No. Not Gina." A macabre thought snaked into Kate's tired brain. Mamma had met Gina this

afternoon. It was not beyond the stretch of her imagination to think Mamma had invited Gina to the wedding. "At least, I don't think Gina's coming." "Don't you know?" "Mamma met Gina this afternoon, so I don't know." "Your mother wouldn't invite someone she had met only once to her wedding." Kate smiled. "You don't know Mamma. She might do just that." "Do you really think so?" "I know so." It was too late, and Kate was too tired to try to explain Mamma to a near stranger. She extended her hand. "Good night, York. Thank you for a lovely time." York clasp her hand with his long fingers. "After the wedding, I want to take you out. We can drive to San Antonio for dinner and dancing. Would you like that?"

Kate thought she might. "Ask me after the wedding." She got out of the car, and hurried toward the house. Kate had eluded answering York, but she couldn't escape her own thoughts. Long after her head was cradled on her pillow, she stared at the ceiling, and mulled over the sad, sordid story York had told her. York's version was, no doubt, a prejudiced one. How prejudiced? Kate wondered. She tried to put the entire episode out of her mind. She couldn't. It stayed to trouble her sleep. and torment her dreams. Those same disquieting thoughts hopped back into her head the next morning, nudging into her awakening mind, like a lingering guest who overstays his welcome. "Kate? Katie, baby." Belle's voice caused Kate to turn in her bed. She dragged her thoughts to Mamma, and the present. "What?" "Are you going to stay in bed all day?" Belle stood at the bedroom door, wiping her hands on

her apron, and looking too smug. "I made breakfast." She dropped her apron, and put her hands on her hips. "An hour ago. Are you going to make your ride today?" "You know I am, Mamma." Kate sat up on the side of the bed. "But I'm going to take a shower first." Kate opened a drawer and began to look for jeans and a shirt. "Can you imagine what Hank would say if I didn't make that ride?" Belle leaned her slight figure against the door jamb. "You can ask him." The shirt slid from Kate's grasp. "Ask who?" "Hank, he's in the kitchen." With that bit of news, Belle disappeared down the narrow hall. "Mamma, come back..." Kate blew an irate blast of air from her lungs. "What," she wondered aloud, "does he want now?" Whatever it was, Kate decided, it could wait

until she had a shower. She slipped out the front door, and around the house, showered, shampooed her hair, and dressed, before putting in an appearance in the kitchen. She opened the back door to see Hank, Belle, and Cody sitting around the table, sipping coffee, and discussing someone named Edna. Kate had expected some undue comment about her late appearance. All she got was a nod from Cody, a casual, "Hi, Kate," from Hank, and Mamma's, "You want coffee?" If they had conspired to make her feel small and unimportant, they could not have been more successful. Kate slid into a chair beside Belle. "Who's Edna?" Cody put his saucer down. "Edna's a bovine beauty." Kate's puzzled, "What?" was greeted with gales of laughter. Hank continued with the explanation. "Edna's a

cow." "A jersey cow," Belle elaborated. "That's important. Hank brought Cody's pigs over this morning, and he also brought Edna." Lines of suspicion creased Kate's brow. "Why?" "To milk." Cody poured coffee into his saucer. "I didn't know you bought a cow too." Kate stared at the cup of coffee Belle sat before her. "You don't have the money to buy a cow." "He didn't buy her," Hank pushed his coffee cup back. "He's just going to milk her. "I've sold all my pigs. I have a couple of guernseys. I don't need Edna now." Why should this magnanimous gesture annoy Kate? A multitude of emotions moved in to mix with her vexation. Did Hank think this was a way to make points with her? Was he trying to get her back up to that line shack, and into bed? She remembered Gina, young, beautiful, and so willing. Why would he bother? "That was kind of

you." "It's a mutual benefit. I don't have to feed Edna, and I know she's in good hands." Standing, Hank nodded to Kate, "Let's go." "Go where?" The bile of belligerence was bitter in Kate's throat. "I have to mend some fences up near the line shack. I'll ride that far with you. Come on, get a move on." He was going toward the back door. "Billy Jack's waiting at the barn. That means I have two hands doing nothing." He motioned with his arm. "Let's go." Kate decided to think of Hank as an employer, and nothing more. "Yes, sir, boss." She followed him out the door. When they got to the barn, Kate was surprised to find that Billy Jack had already saddled Ringo. Hank climbed up on Diablo's back. "Get a move on; we're burning daylight."

Without a word, Kate climbed into the saddle. They had ridden out of the yard and through the surrounding trees before she asked, "Why didn't you send Billy Jack to fix the fence instead of telling him to go home?" "You're learning to sit a horse," Hank pushed his hat back, and grinned. "Do you have a thing for Billy Jack?" "Don't be absurd," Kate snapped, "I'm old enough to be Billy Jack's mother." "That doesn't matter to some women." "Or some men," Kate retorted, then bit her tongue. "Are you talking about Gina and me?" The sunlight danced across Hank's amused face. "If the shoe fits, or in your case, maybe I should say if the boot fits." "Are you jealous of Gina?"

"Certainly not!" On the swift wings of insight, she realized she was. "She's jealous of you," Hank said with easy candor. They had ridden over a rise and down into a gully. In the distance a covey of quail rose from the grass and took flight across the azure blue of the morning sky. "Why would someone as young and pretty as Gina be jealous of me? Is it because I work for you?" "Do you work for me, Kate?" Hank chuckled. "I'm beginning to think it may be the other way around." Kate disregarded that remark. "It is because I work for you." It pleased her to know that she could make a woman like Gina jealous, what ever the reason. "What really ripped her was seeing you with York Taylor."

"Does she have designs on York?" Kate pulled Ringo to a stop, and watched the herd of cattle that appeared as they rode up from the gully. "Every eligible female in South Texas has designs on Taylor." Hank stopped Diablo just ahead of Ringo, and looked back. "You really didn't know." Surprise colored his voice. "The man is rich, passably handsome, and single. What more could you ask?" "I must say your assessment of him is much kinder than..." Kate stopped her tongue, but not before Hank's eyes hardened and glittered in the morning sun. "So Taylor had regaled you with his version of the truth. Did you believe him?" Before Kate could answer, he gave his horse a kick in the flanks, and veered left, toward the line shack. "Will you wait?" Kate rode after him. "You ask me a question, then run away before I can answer." She urged Ringo on, trying to stay up with the larger, more powerful horse. "If I've

learned anything in the last three years, it's not to believe everything I hear. I know there are two sides to every story." Hank pulled Diablo to a stop and turned to stare at Kate. "You didn't go to bed with Taylor." His question was a statement. Kate felt fury explode through the top of her head. "Is that what you thought? You thought I jumped in bed with the first man who asked me?" Hank was looking smugly pleased. Why wouldn't he be? He and York were long-time rivals. "The second man who asked you, or don't I count?" Kate hoisted her leg over the cantle of the saddle, dismounted, and grabbed Ringo's reins. "He didn't ask." Hank slid off Diablo. "I told you he was a fool." "Maybe he just looked at me and knew." Kate voiced her thoughts aloud.

They were walking toward the line shack. "Knew what?" Hank took Ringo's reins from Kate's hand. "Knew that I wasn't...That I didn't..." She was embarrassed by her own words. "Forget it." "That you weren't a good lay? My God Kate, you can't look at a woman and tell that." "I suppose you're an authority on such matters." Kate snapped. Hank tethered the horses to the hitching post in front of the line shack. "Do you want to find out?" "You don't give up, do you?" Kate loosened the chin strap of her hat, and pushed it back. "Taylor must have done a real hatchet job on me." Kate lagged by the line shack door. "I told you, I didn't believe everything he said. The man has lost his wife. He loved her very much. That has a

telling effect on his other emotions." "Love, Kate?" Hank questioned with caustic amusement. "You talk like some smitten teenager. That kind of garbage is for kids." She refused to believe he was that cold-hearted. "I suppose you don't believe in patriotism, either, or courage, or any of those abstracts that are more real than anything you see or touch?" "I'm a realist, Kate." "You're a cynic," Kate answered, "A sexually over-active middle-aged scoffer." "And you, Katie love, are a sentimentalist. A sexually repressed, cowardly romantic who is afraid to practice what she preaches." "You think it's cowardly to believe in love?" "Oh, Kate, come on, your can't even define the word." "Yes I can," Kate argued.

"Okay, shoot," He waited, then offered pseudo assistance by saying, "Love is...go ahead, Kate, tell me what love is." She gestured helplessly. "You have to feel it to know." Hank Raised an eyebrow. "How long has it been since you felt it?" "It's not always a sexual feeling..." Her words trailed away on the end of a helpless sigh, before a bright smile lit her face. "I tried to tell you, I'm not good at this. I'm not much at explaining love either." "Did you love what-his-name, John?" "Jim." Kate corrected, "His name is Jim. And I did love him, once." "How do you know you did? When did it start? Where did it end?" "You make it sound like I had a disease." Kate

frowned. "Then love's a disease?" Hank raised one eyebrow. "I didn't say that." "Then what did you say?" Hank pulled the shack door open. "Come on in. I want to hear, among other things, how you got so smart about something you're no good at." He held the door open, and Kate stepped inside, arguing as she went, "Sex and love are not synonymous." "Would you like to bet?" Hank closed the door.

CHAPTER TEN

Once inside the shack, Hank pointed toward the cabinet. "Make a pot of coffee." "I'm not your slave." Kate made no effort to disguise her annoyance. "Make your own coffee." "I thought you said you worked for me." With a shrug, Hank moved toward the cabinet. Kate pushed in front of him, and lifted the tin of coffee from the shelf, then reached for the battered pot, and began to dump coffee into it, heedless of the grounds that spilled around its sides, and onto the cabinet and floor. Hank watched her with amused interest. "I sure hope you're better at explaining than you are at putting coffee in a pot. If you aren't, I expect I'll get a messy interpretation at best." "Why should I bother explaining something to a man who is obviously an expert on the subject?" Kate slammed the lid down on the pot, and set it on the stove. "Are you going to make a fire?" Hank tossed his hat onto a chair. "Are you going

to put water in the pot?" A tiny smile tugged at the corner of Kate's mouth then spread across her face. "I'm not too good at coffee making, either." Reaching for the can of water, she carefully filled the pot. "I'll build a fire." Hank broke a piece of stove wood across his knee. Kate put tin cups on the table, and they sat down to wait for the coffee to perk. Hank propped his elbows on the table, and put his hands under his chin. "I'm waiting." "For what?" Kate studied his complaisant expression, and thought that he was enjoying this little battle of words. "For that important explanation you promised. You are going to tell me how you got so good at knowing and are still so poor at doing." The ghost of words buried so deeply in her psyche, that Kate thought they would never rise

again, surfaced suddenly and with tormenting clarity. "Why, Kate? Because she responds to me. Lila's warm and alive in a way you never were." Sudden, bitter tears flooded her eyes. Kate made a mad dash for the door. Blinded by the flow of moisture that gushed forth, she stumbled on a chair that stood too near the door, and would have fallen if a startled Hank had not reached to grab her. He didn't say a word, just held her in his arms, smoothing her hair with his hands, and murmuring little sounds of comfort until she stopped crying, and gained some measure of control. Kate tried to pull from his embrace. "I feel like a fool. Every now and then those old memories slip up and grab me." Hank wouldn't let her go. His touch was gentle, but firm. "Relax, Kate." Kate laid her head against his chest and rested in the enclosure of his protective embrace for several minutes before she moved back and wiped her sleeve across her face. "Thank you."

For the first time since she had known him, Hank seemed ill at ease and uncertain. "Sure, anytime. I never held a woman that way before, and it felt good." Kate gave her nose a last decisive swipe. "What way?" "I don't know," His shoulders rose and fell in a little shrug. "Not expecting anything, not thinking how long it was going to be before she surrendered, not having to wonder if I was going to please her." A sputtering coffee pot demanded immediate attention. And what a welcome interruption it was. Too gruffly, Hank said, "Coffee's ready." Very carefully, Kate pushed the pot back, then tested the handle before lifting it to fill the cups. "It smells delicious." They sat, two polite strangers, sipping coffee, in a silence that stretched like a band of worn elastic between them. At last, Hank reached across the

table and took Kate's hand. "I'm sorry, Kate. If I had known how frail you are, emotionally, I would have backed off." "Jim almost destroyed me." She had never admitted that before, not even to herself. "It was not his rejection, but his cruelty, that devastated me. I had this image of myself as a woman and a wife and a mother, he shattered it, with his brutality. I keep trying to put me back together, but I can't find all the pieces." Hank stood to his feet, and opened his arms. "Come to me Kate, and don't be afraid. I'm not asking for anything. I want to prove a point." Without a question, or a doubt, she stood, and walked into his embrace. With infinite tenderness, he enveloped her in a warm hug. "How does that feel?" She snuggled in his embrace. "It's wonderful." She could hear the surge of life force within him, feel the steady beat of his heart, the warmth of his body.

They stood in the middle of the line shack floor, neither wanting to move, for several seconds, before he brought his mouth down to cover the soft length of her parted lips, in a kiss that was as sensitive as it was passionate. Letting his tongue push inside, to tease, question, then conquer. It came slowly, a liquid fire in her veins that flowed out like quicksilver, igniting little points of desire in her throat, down her arms, and all the way to the tips of her toes. A feeling of warm serenity stole through her. Relaxing in his arms, she yielded to his experienced touch, his caressing commands as she fitted her body to his, and locked her arms around his neck. Almost before it began, Hank released her, and the embrace was over, but the tingling sensation stayed as Kate gasped for breath, and ran her hands over the heated skin of her face. Her eyes rounded, her mouth shaped into a perfect O. "What was that for?" "I wanted to prove my point, and I did."

"What point?" Kate asked, on the end of a hollow little laugh, that failed to cover the tremor in her voice. "There are no frigid women, Kate, only inept men." She sat down, afraid her knees might refuse to support her, then folded her hands across her breasts. "I have to think about this." Hank pushed his hat down on his head, and picked up his half empty cup of coffee. After a deep swallow, he set the cup on the table, and in the apparent throes of some revelation, whispered, "I'll be damned." "Do you want to sit down?" Kate hooked her foot under the rung of a chair, and pushed it in his direction. "I think I'd better get out of here." Both hands went up to tug at the brim of his hat. "And so had you. We're burning daylight." "I told you, I have some thinking to do." Kate's

scrambled senses refused to unsnarl. "Think as you make your ride." "Okay." Kate held on to the back of the chair, as she wobbled to her feet. "I can do that, I think." "And I," Hank's spurs rang as he strode toward the door, "have a fence to mend." Kate followed him out the door, then watched him ride toward the north fence row before she mounted Ringo, and headed south. Her senses were still reeling from her brief encounter with Hank. How deep-seated had been the belief that she was less than a woman. How quickly Hank had offered her, if not hope, at least the shadow of a doubt. But in an amazingly short length of time, other, more pressing thoughts pushed in to claim Kate's attention, Mamma's wedding was only days away, and Suzie would arrive at Paradise tomorrow. Oh yes, there were plans to make, and problems to face and resolve. She had a chance to mend a few fences of her own. Kate nudged Ringo in the

flanks, and headed toward home. In the distance, a jack rabbit stood up, raised his long spiked ears, looked in Kate's direction, then scampered into the underbrush. Across the open country before her, little heat waves danced in the bright sun, and shimmered against the waving grass. Kate thought of the man who had been her father, the man she had never known, could not even remember. What flight of fancy had caused him to name this place Paradise? The first day she and Mamma had come here, Mamma had said,"As long as I had your daddy here with me, it was paradise for me."Mamma had brought her paradise with her. Maybe Daddy had too. Kate gave her head a shake. Hank's kiss had made her a little crazy. As the roof of the ranch house appeared on the far horizon, Kate thought, she had a million things to do, and she was lagging along, lost into the spiral of her own wandering thoughts of paradise. "Is that you, Kate?" Belle called as Kate came in the front door.

"It's me, Mamma." Kate closed the screen door. "Where are you?" "Ta-da," Belle sang out as she made a grand entrance into the living room wearing a long dress of flowing pink chiffon. She held the skirt out with both hands, and twirled around. "How do you like it?" "It's beautiful, Mamma." Belle's delicately carved features were reminiscent of an old cameo. Her figure was slim, almost frail. How deceiving looks could be. That fragile, lined face and thin body housed an indomitable spirit. "When did you buy that?" "Yesterday, in St. Agnes. I thought I'd wear my white pumps, and that little white hat with the veil. What do you think?" "I think it's perfect, Mamma." Kate walked around her mother, inspecting with a critical eye, as she went. "You can wear my pearls. That can be your something borrowed. The dress is new. Do you have something old?"

"Unzip me." Belle turned her back to Kate. "I thought I'd wear Grandma's broach. I can pin it right here." Belle patted the high neck of the dress with her open hand. Carefully undoing the long zipper, Kate questioned, "Do you have something blue." Belle let the dress fall in graceful folds around her feet, then reached to scoop it up into her arms. "I wouldn't forget something blue." She lifted her long petticoat to reveal a wide blue satin garter festooned with lace, and fastened to her upper leg. "This is my something blue." "Mamma, honestly! Don't tell me you bought that in St. Agnes." Belle gathered her dress in her arms. "I made it. Come on, I'll show you what else I made." Kate followed Belle down the hall, and into the bedroom, thinking as she went, that she had never before seen her mother this excited. "Mamma, what are you up to?"

"See." Belle pointed to the curtains that hung across the windows, then to the spread that covered the neatly made bed. "Cody's been living in a camper for years. Now he can enjoy the comforts of a real home." Kate sat on the edge of the new spread, and ran her hands across the smooth surface. "It's beautiful, Mamma." Belle hung her dress in the closet. "So, what did Hank want?" "Mamma, you are about as subtle as a steam roller. What makes you think he wanted anything?" "He came over here this morning with a cow on a rope and a line of bull about how we could do him a favor by taking care of Edna." Belle yanked her petticoat over her head and tossed it on the bed, then pulled a pair of jeans up over her thin hips. "Hank doesn't strike me as a man who gives without expecting something in return." She zipped her jeans, then struggled to fasten the top button. "I sat in the kitchen this morning and

watched him taking bites out of you with his eyes. Are you going to tell me?" "Tell you what, Mamma? There is nothing to tell." "I have to make supper." Belle pulled a skimpy tee shirt over her head. "Hank Sinclair is not the marrying kind. I hope you know that." Kate followed her mother down the hall and into the kitchen. "Neither am I Mamma, not anymore." Belle gave an undignified snort. "All women are the marrying kind, Kate. Men want sex, women want love -- and marriage." "Mamma, I'm not looking for a man." Kate sat down at the table and watched as Belle began to bustle about the kitchen. "Maybe you prefer York Taylor. He's rich, and not bad looking." Belle began to peel potatoes, and put them in a pan. "Make a salad, Kate. Use those tomatoes on the door in the refrigerator."

Kate rummaged around in a drawer, looking for a knife. "But you don't like York, do you Mamma? You did, in the beginning. What happened?" "What difference does it make? I'm not the one who's choosing." "Will you stop it, Mamma? "Stop what?" Belle ran water over the potatoes, and set them on the stove, then adjusted the burner. "Don't let me forget. I turned this burner on high." "Stop matchmaking. Stop trying to marry me off." Kate sliced through a head of lettuce. "I don't intend to make that mistake again. And turn that burner down, you'll forget it's on high, and so will I." With slow deliberation. Belle turned the knob on the back of the stove. "My Lord, Kate you're forty-six years old. Don't you ever intend to leave home?" "Mamma," Kate drew a long ragged breath, then

bit her lip, refusing to rise to Belle's bait. "I wouldn't fancy waking up every morning of my life and seeing York Taylor's head on the pillow next to me." Belle pointed toward the cabinet."Hand me that lid Kate." Too sweetly, Kate asked, "This one, Mamma," She handed Belle the lid, then began to dice tomatoes, and slam them into the bowl in front of her. Belle put the lid on the pan. "Now Hank is a different story. Can you imagine what that man can do in bed?" She giggled, then asked, "Or do you know, already, Katie baby?" "Stop it, Mamma." Kate turned to stare at her mother. "What makes you think anything has happened between Hank and me?" "Did I say I thought that? Stop giving your mother dirty looks." Belle scooted past Kate, and began to take plates from the cabinet. "You have a transparent face, Kate."

"You're not going to goad me into telling you about what..." Kate threw the tomatoes she had sliced into the salad bowl. "Stop it, Mamma." Belle watched Kate as a smile deepened her dimples. "My, that's going to be atossed salad, sure enough. What were you saying about this afternoon?" "Nothing, Mamma. I said absolutely nothing. I am a mature woman and Hank is too old to behave like some half-baked young stud." That, Kate hoped, would put an end to this ridiculous conversation. "Well, I always say, the older the buck, the stiffer the horn." "Damn it Mamma, stop it! I don't intend to tell you what happened this afternoon. And don't tell me not to swear. I'll swear if I damn well want to." Belle held up one hand. "Listen, I hear a car. Are you expecting a caller, Kate?"

Kate threw the last of the tomatoes in the bowl, and wiped her wet hands down the sides of her jeans. "No, Mamma, I'm not." She was hurrying to the front door, with Belle treading on her heels. The car, a low slung late model Corvette, roared into the yard and skidded to a stop. "That's what I call class." Belle caught the screen door and followed Kate onto the porch. The young woman who stepped from the car was tall and elegantly beautiful. Her flame red hair was close-cropped and smoothly combed. Even before she turned to face the two women on the porch, Kate grasp Belle's arm in a vice-grip. "Mamma," Her breath stopped in her throat, "It's Suzie." Belle's brows met in a tense frown. Her hand snaked out to grab Kate's arm. "I see her. Let her come to you." Kate drew a deep breath and waited and watched as the too thin, tastefully dressed young woman came around the car, and stopped. "Mom?

Grandma?" Uncertainty etched itself into every line of her graceful body, as she paused, waiting for some response from the two women on the porch. Belle hung on to her daughter, with a strength that belied her age and size. "Steady, Kate." Suzie took a tentative step forward. "I came a day early. I hope that's all right." Belle's brow unknitted. "It's all right. Come inside, Suzie. You must be tired." As she stepped onto the porch, Suzie sent an uneasy glance in Kate's direction. "Hi Mom." Kate locked the fingers of one hand around her other wrist, and fought a monumental desire to grab Suzie and hold her close in her arms. "Hello, Suzie. Welcome to Paradise." Belle ushered Suzie inside. "Did you drive all the way from Dallas alone?" Suzie's anxious gaze moved from Belle to Kate.

"I'm not a little girl anymore, Grandma." "That's good news." Belle's voice held just enough sarcasm to make Kate cringe. Hastily she intervened, "Cody will be in soon. We're anxious for you to meet him." Suzie's eyes swept the small neat room. Measuring it, no doubt, against the luxurious home she had shared with Kate and Jim. "Where is he?" "He sleeps in his camper down near the barn." Suzie stood in the middle of the room, looking anxious and distraught. "If there's not room for me here, I can go to the nearest town, and get a motel room." "Stop being a snob." Belle paused at the kitchen door, and glanced over her shoulder. "If we have to, we'll hang you on a nail. I have supper..." Belle raised one eyebrow, "Excuse me, dinner on the stove." With that last pithy remark, she disappeared into the kitchen.

Suzie perched on the arm of a chair. "Grandma always did have a way of putting me in my place." From the kitchen, Lady bounded in, and wagging her tail, began to lick Kate's hand. Kate rubbed the dog's neck, and patted her back. "Cody's here. Come meet him." The hollow sound of her words rang in her ears. "He's a very nice person," she added stiffly, as she moved toward the door, glad for an excuse to escape being alone with Suzie. "So you're Belle's granddaughter," Cody studied Suzie's classically beautiful face, her tall graceful figure. "I don't see a lot of physical resemblance." "Most people think I look..." Suzie hesitated, and glanced in Kate's direction before adding, "like my mother." Cody's whiskers moved as he shook his head from side to side. "That I do see, except for the eyes. Yours are a beautiful brown. Kate's eyes are

as blue as a summer sky on a clear day." "And you are an old charmer," Kate interjected. Cody grinned. "It comes naturally when you're surrounded by three beautiful women." He pulled a chair from the kitchen table. "Any granddaughter of Belle's will be a granddaughter of mine after tomorrow. Sit down granddaughter, let's enjoy this fine supper your grandmother has made." "Cody's nice." Suzie told Kate later, as they were clearing away the dishes. Belle had decided, just after Cody closed the back door, with his bucket in his hand, to follow him to the barn. "To help with the milking," she told Kate, as she hurried outside. Kate's threatening glare had been a waste of time, as had her ominous, "Mamma!" With a wave of her hand, Belle was gone. Kate began to stack plates. "Yes, he's very nice."

She carried the plates to the sink. "If you'd like, you can sit in the living room. I don't need help doing dishes." Her words were stilted and formal, almost cold. She hadn't meant them to be. "I'd rather stay in here, with you, if you don't mind," Suzie replied, with a degree of uncertainty. The Suzie Kate remembered would have given her mother some flip reply, and left the room. Kate busied herself with washing dishes. "There's more coffee in the pot, if you'd like some." "No, thank you." A miserable silence blanketed the room. Kate continued to wash and stack dishes, wondering, as she worked, if she and Suzie would ever be able to bridge this terrible gap between them. Suzie's quiet voice impinged on her tangled thoughts. "I talked to Michael on the telephone just before I left Dallas. He and Sharon will be here tomorrow afternoon."

"I know. I had a letter from Michael last week." Kate ran water in the kettle, and sat it on the stove. "You don't have hot water?" Suzie's surprise was evident. "Things are a little primitive here. I trust you can manage for a day or two." She thought, as she spoke, that she sounded exactly like her mother. "Michael is going to be even more upset." Kate leaned against the cabinet, and passed a weary hand through her hair. "I think Michael can survive not having hot water for a couple of days." "I didn't mean it that way, Mom." The anguish in Suzie's voice was a razor across Kate's heart, but she continued to wash dishes. She might never have anything else from her children, but from this day forward she intended to demand and get, respect.

Electric silence sparked in the room. "Mom?" Suzie's plaintive whisper fell out into the static quiet. "Yes?" Kate turned to see tears streaming down Suzie's face, and felt her resolve to remain distant slipping away. Was there any pain more acute than that of a mother watching her own child suffer? Belle's words rang in her ear. "Let Suzie make the first move." Suzie used the back of her hand to wipe away her tears. "I came a long way to say how sorry I am, and now I can't find the right words..." Her voice broke, and faded on the end of a wrenching sob. She swallowed painfully, and begged like a child, "Please, Mom, let me back into your life again." Any thought Kate had of remaining aloof, faded in the heartbreaking aftermath of that anguished plea. She covered the distance between them in three long steps. Gathering Suzie in her arms, she held her close, as her own tears mingled with those that gushed from Suzie's eyes. "Don't cry, Baby. You are a very important part of my life.

You always will be." Over the sobs that tore through her slim body, Suzie repeated over and over again, "I'm so sorry, Mom, so very, very sorry." "It's all right, Suzie," Kate soothed. Her own heart was breaking inside her. She didn't know that reconciliation would be so painful. "It's all right." After a lengthy bout with tears, Suzie wiped her eyes, and sat up in her chair. "No, Mom, It's not all right. I said and did terrible things to you." "We said and did terrible things to each other, Suzie." After all these years, she could apologize for driving her daughter from her life. " I hope you can forgive me, too." The look on Suzie's face told Kate that what had intervened in the two years since she had last seen Suzie had taken their toll on her daughter. "Maybe we can start over, and forget the terrible things we said to each other." "It's not that simple Mom, not for me anyway."

Suzie's lovely face contorted with anguish. "I took things I can't give back and destroyed things I can't replace." With tragic insight, Kate realized, Suzie was shouldering responsibility for her parents' divorce. Kate had to rid her of that burden. "Suzie, you are not responsible for what happened between your father and me." "Don't try to make this easy for me, Mom. I let Lila come between you and Dad. No, I helped Lila come between you and Dad." "Nonsense." Kate stopped to consider Suzie's accusation. Was she trying to protect Suzie, again? No. Not this time. Kate was, after all this time, realizing, and speaking the truth. "You didn't let Lila do anything. The divorce had nothing to do with you, and very little to do with Lila." Watching Suzie's tormented expression, Kate thought, guilt had to be the most debilitating of all emotions. "It did, Mom. I tore a marriage apart, and destroyed a family. I brought Lila into our home,

then helped her break up my parents' marriage." A shudder ran the length of Suzie's slim body. Kate was forced to sit and watch her daughter be torn asunder by guilt and remorse. Instinctively, she caught Suzie's hand in one of hers. With the other, she tilted Suzie's chin up until she was looking deep into those stormy brown eyes. "If Lila had never come along, your father and I would have divorced, eventually. The rift might not have been so soon, nor so traumatic, but it would have come." Conviction gave Kate's words certainty. "But Mom, you don't understand. The bitch..." With the lifting of her hand, Kate halted Suzie's tirade. "Suzie, Lila is your father's wife. How do you think he would feel if he knew you were calling her names?" "Do you care how Dad feels, Mom?" There was accusation, and hope in that question. If she wanted to drive a wedge between Jim and Suzie, intuition told Kate she would never have a

better opportunity. With a burst of insight, and a sigh of relief, she discovered she did not. "I don't want you to hurt him. He's the father of my children." A wan smile shaped Suzie's face. "I'm glad you care about Dad. I was so afraid you hated him." "I don't hate your father, Suzie." The weight of the world seemed to lift from Kate's shoulders as she realized those words were true. "He thinks you do, Mom." Kate gave her daughter's nose a little tweak. "Well, the next time you see him, you can assure him that I don't." Anxious to change the subject, Kate suggested, "Tell me what made you decide to move back home." Kate had assumed Suzie had moved back in with her father because Lila was there. But it was apparent now, that Lila and Suzie were at odds. "It's a long story, Mom. In a way, it's all Michael's fault."

"Michael?" Kate didn't like the sound of that. "What happened between you and Michael?" The look on Suzie's face made Kate sorry she had asked. "If it's something you don't want to discuss with me, I can understand." Tears glistened in Suzie's eyes. "There will never be anything in my life I can't discuss with you, Mom." "Let's have some coffee," Kate hurried to find cups. "We have real cream, would you like some?" She wasn't sure she wanted to hear an account of a quarrel between Suzie and Michael. "You don't know a thing about what's happened, do you Mom? I thought Michael had told you." Kate poured cream into cups. "I haven't talked to Michael since Grandma and I moved to Paradise." She reminded herself that Michael and Suzie were adults now, and could resolve any differences they had without their mother acting as a referee,

"Whatever it is, I'm sure you and Michael can work it out." "You think Michael and I quarreled?" Suzie looked up from her coffee cup. Stirring a spoon around in her cup of cream-laced coffee gave Kate an excuse to avoid Suzie's troubled eyes. "Didn't you?" "It was more like a disagreement." "You and Michael are adults. Surely you can resolve a disagreement." "You don't want to know what happened, do you Mom?" An edge of bitterness fringed Suzie voice. "I'm not sure it concerns me, Suzie." Kate laid her spoon on the table, and looked directly into her daughter's troubled face. "It's time I let the two of you grow up." A crystal tear rolled down Suzie's cheek. "You're shutting me out, again, Mom. How can I be a part of your life if you won't be a part of mine?"

Reaching across the table, she clutched at Kate's hand. "I know I don't have the right to ask, but I need you, Mom. I need to talk to you about what happened." She added an impassioned, "Please." Again, Kate's resolve to remain detached dissolved in the warm surge of love she felt for her daughter. "I'm not shutting you out, Suzie. I want to listen, but I can't take sides in a quarrel between you and your brother." A little impatiently, Suzie exclaimed, "Oh, Mom, Michael and I didn't quarrel. Michael quarreled with Lila, and it was terrible." Even as the words sank into Kate's dazed mind, she wondered why, given what she knew about Michael's temperament and Lila's selfish nature, she hadn't seen the inevitability of such a confrontation long ago. She had never looked past her own feelings of loss and self pity to see that Lila had the potential to destroy the relationship between Jim and his children. "I can only listen, I can't advise, or offer suggestions." With a sense of dread that bordered on foreboding, Kate folded her hands, and waited.

"It all began the Sunday after Dad and Lila got back from their cruise. Michael called me, and asked me to drive out to Dad's with him and Sharon. He said there were some things we had to discuss, as a family." Kate speculated, "He wanted to talk about Grandma and me moving to Paradise?" "That was only a part of it." Remembering caused Suzie's eyes to swim with tears. "Michael couldn't understand why you didn't have any money." "I see." Kate's eyes riveted on the back door. Belle and Cody had been gone long enough to milk three cows. Suzie walked across the room and placed her cup in the sink. "Why didn't you tell us, Mom?" Kate had no idea what Suzie thought she should have told her. "Come sit down, Suzie, and tell me the rest of what happened."

After rinsing her cup, Suzie refilled it, and came to sit again, across from Kate. Dragging a long breath of air into her lungs, she expelled it slowly. "I thought Dad and Lila were expecting us. I thought Michael had called, but he hadn't." Once more, she sighed. "We arrived at a bad time. Dad and Lila had been quarreling. I wanted Michael to go, and come back some other time. So did Sharon, but he wouldn't do it. He said what he came to say wouldn't wait, so we stayed." Kate wondered what Belle and Cody had found to do in the barn that took this long. "Maybe it would be better if you talked to me when you're not so upset." Ignoring Kate's suggestion, Suzie folded her hands on the table, and stared at them. "It was awful, Mom. We were sitting around the fireplace in the den. Michael began to talk about what how nice the house was, and how much you had loved living there. Then he asked Dad, point blank, why you left, and let him keep the house you loved so much."

The situation was even worse than Kate had imagined. "That was none of Michael's business." "That's what Lila said. And as calmly as you please, Michael told her to shut her mouth. He said he was talking to Dad, and he wanted Dad to answer." "Oh, Lord," Kate moaned. "Dad said Lila wanted the house, so he kept it for her. I never saw Michael look so angry. His face got almost as red as his hair. Sharon wanted to leave, but Michael said 'No. Not yet.' Michael said he guessed you thought you needed money more than you needed a house. Then he asked Dad how much money you got in your divorce settlement. Dad turned a white as a sheet, and wouldn't answer." "Why," Kate's heavy heart fell to the pit of her stomach. "didn't Michael leave well enough alone? The divorce was none of his affair." "Michael thinks it was, Mom, and so do I. Why

did you let them do this to you?" Kate didn't intend to discuss the trauma of her divorce with her daughter. "Then what happened?" "Then Lila flew into a rage. She told Michael to get out and stay out. Michael told her to go to hell. Lila wanted Dad to throw Michael out, but Dad just swallowed and sat down in a chair, and stared into space." "Oh, Suzie, Michael must feel as guilty as you do, and none of this has anything to do with either of you." Like ripples in a stream her divorce was reaching out to affect the children she had fought so hard to protect. "Yes, it does, Mom. It has everything to do with both of us. The only difference is Michael can't understand why Dad let Lila play him for such a fool. I can. She did the same thing to me." By now Kate knew Belle was not going to put in an appearance until Suzie had completed her story. She had a mental picture of Belle standing

just outside the back door, listening, and saying, "I told you so," to Cody. "Mom, Michael had a copy of your and Dad's divorce decree. He pulled it out of his coat pocket and began to read it aloud. Dad just sat there, looking like he wanted to cry. When Michael had finished, he asked Dad if he knew where you were now. Dad said no, he didn't." "Jim was not accountable to Michael for where I was." Kate had an idea Suzie hadn't heard a word she'd said. "Mom, Dad began to cry. I couldn't believe it. He broke down and wept like a baby." In all the years Kate had been married to Jim, she had never seen him shed a tear. Losing Michael's respect must have been a terrible blow to him. "I hope Michael apologized to his Dad." "He didn't Mom, but Dad tried to explain to Michael. Dad said he'd done and said a lot of things he regretted, and then Lila jumped in, and told Michael to leave. This time Michael went.

He grabbed Sharon's arm and said if that was the kind of man Dad was, he never wanted to see him again." Kate couldn't stop her tears. "Poor Michael, Jim was always his idol." "I was going to stay, but Lila said she'd take care of Dad, and Dad wanted me to go, too, so I went with Michael and Sharon." "Michael and Jim will patch things up, Suzie," Kate assured her daughter. Oh, how she wanted to believe that was true. Suzie laid her hands to the sides of her face in a weary, defeated gesture. "That's not all, Mom. The next day Lila called. Dad was in the hospital. He had a heart attack. The doctor said he'd have to be careful from now on. I called Michael, and asked him to come to the hospital to be with me. That's when we had our...disagreement. Michael refused to come. So I just sat there, by Dad's bedside, all by myself, for a day and a night." Kate couldn't imagine a worse scenario. Small

wonder her daughter felt such guilt. "Where was Lila?" "She left. She said she'd had enough. She and Dad are getting a divorce. I moved back home because I didn't want Dad to be alone in that big empty house." Kate had wanted Lila to be exposed for the mercenary opportunist she was, but not at this terrible price. "Maybe she'll change her mind, and come back." Suzie lifted her tear stained face. "Dad doesn't want her back, Mom." "You don't know that, Suzie," Kate cautioned. "Marriage is a very private affair. Maybe they can settle their differences." "I don't think so, Mom. I sat by Dad's bedside and held his hand the day and night he lay in the hospital. There were tubes in his arms, and a monitor of some kind strapped to his chest." "How terrible, for both of you." Kate closed her

eyes against the thought of her daughter being left alone to deal with such an emotional situation. "Dad doesn't remember any of it. He was sedated." A little gurgle of pain hung in Suzie's throat. "He thought I was you. He kept telling me over and over, what a fool he had been, and begging for forgiveness." Kate studied the bottom of her empty coffee cup, knowing she should feel something, besides numbness. Should she be happy? Happiness at the expense of Jim and her children seemed a petty emotion, at best. Consoled? What consolation was there in knowing a family had been ripped asunder? Compensated? Wasn't this the ultimate revenge of a scorned wife, the repenting husband wanted her forgiveness? The cost had been too dear. All she felt was a knot in her stomach, and a coat of disgust on her tongue for the too little that had come too late. The opening of the back door stopped Kate's thoughts. Belle made her grand entrance. "Sorry we were so long. I hope you two had time for a little mother-daughter talk,"

She was followed by Cody and Lady. Cody put the bucket on the cabinet. "Help me strain the milk, Belle." Kate wondered if Belle had been eavesdropping. "It took you a long time to milk tonight. What happened?" Belle placed a thin cloth over a wide mouthed jar, and held it, as Cody began to pour the milk from the bucket into the jar. "I didn't ask you what happened when you came in this afternoon after riding horseback all over the country with that handsome Hank Sinclair." "Yes, you did. You wanted to know every little detail" Too late, Kate realized she had fallen into Belle's verbal snare. Bellehad heard Kate's conversation with Suzie, and she wasn't happy about what Suzie had to say. Belle's grin was innocuous, as she lifted the cloth from the jar, and turned toward Suzie. "Your mother has a boy friend. Two boy friends, in fact. One is rich, and the other one is sexy. Given a

choice, I'd choose the sexy one. A woman can live without money." She sent a sly wink Cody's way. "But sex is a basic human need." "Grandma!" Suzie scolded, blushing as her eyes darting from Kate to Cody. "What a thing to say." "Maybe you'd better talk to your daughter again." Belle laughed aloud, as she motioned for Cody and Lady to follow her into the living room. Suzie put her hand over her face. "There's only one Grandma." That was certainly true. Kate nodded in agreement. "Thank God."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

With the thought that she would deal with Belle

later, Kate stood to her feet and was set to follow Belle and Cody into the living room. "Cody likes to see the six o'clock news on television. Would you care to watch?" "There's something else I want to tell you, Mom." Suzie hadn't moved from her chair. The doubt that clutched at Kate's heart must have shown in her face. "What now?" "It's good news, Mom." Thinking she could use some good news, for a change, Kate sat back down, and watched Suzie move her coffee cup around to make wet circles on the table. "I'm in love, Mom. I've found the man I want to be with for the rest of my life." "Are you sure?" What a thing to say! Kate could have bit her tongue. But it was too late now. "Mom! Of course I'm sure." Suzie's eyes rounded in indignation. "I was never more sure of anything in my life before."

Watching the glow that lit Suzie's eyes and illuminated her face, Kate thought that only a very young, inexperienced, girl could be that sure of a life long relationship with a man. All she could find to say was, "I'm glad." "Don't you want to hear about him?" Wryly, Kate asked, "Do I have a choice?" A glimpse of the old Suzie surfaced. "No, and he's wonderful. His name is David Gardner. He's thirty-five years old, he works for the firm that employs Michael. I met him at Michael's office party last Christmas." Kate watched Suzie's animated expression, as she listened with half an ear, to her daughter sang the praises of David Gardner. Maybe first love should be romantic and impractical. "He sounds very nice." "He asked me out several times before I went," Suzie confessed, with a shy smile. "Oh?" Kate forced herself to ask. "Why is that?"

"I thought he was a little old, and he is Michael's boss, and..." "Wait a minute," Kate grabbed Suzie's arm. "Gardner? Is he one ofthe Gardners?" Silas Gardner headed the law firm where Michael was a junior partner. "Is he related to old Silas?" "Silas is his father." "That means David is a very rich man." Silas Gardner was a millionaire several times over. "But I don't care about David's money, Mom. I love him." "I'm sure you do, Suzie. My concern is, does he love you?" "Yes, he does, Mom. He's asked me to marry him." With a little sinking feeling, Kate asked, "Have you set a date?" Why was she so apprehensive?

"Not a definite date. We hope to be married about two months from now. Will you come to the wedding?" Going to Suzie's wedding would mean facing Jim, and all those old memories again. Kate didn't want to do that. "Where will the wedding be?" "I don't know, yet. I want you to help me decide. I thought I could bring David to meet you and Grandma, and Cody sometime soon. Do you think that would be all right?" Kate read the uncertainty in Suzie's eyes. "I'd love to meet David." Relaxing a little, Suzie leaned back in her chair. "What about Grandma?" Kate knew Belle too well to try to predict what she would do or say, ever. "With Grandma, David is on his own." "Aren't we all," Suzie quipped, as Belle appeared in the door way.

"You have a gentleman caller, Kate." Belle pointed toward the front door. "Shall I ask him to come in?" Kate pushed her chair back and stood to her feet. What did Hank want now? "Hank's not a gentleman caller, he's my boss." "It's not Hank, it's York." Belle cut her eyes in Suzie's direction. "The rich one." "Mamma," Kate whispered, as she passed her mother on the way to the door. "Stop it, now!" "Come on," Belle motioned to Suzie. "Meet your mother's rich suitor." York was inside by the time Kate came into the room. He clasped Kate's hand. "I didn't know you had a guest. I hope I'm not intruding." Kate assured him that he was not, then made the necessary introductions before she sat down on the couch. York came down beside her, and put his arm

across the pillows at her back. Kate's backbone stiffened. "It was nice of you to drop by." She couldn't decide which was more upsetting, Suzie's pained expression or Belle's smug smile. "I was on my way home, and I remembered that I wanted to give the prospective bride and groom their wedding gift." York took a long envelope from his inside coat pocket, and held it out to Belle. "I would have waited until your wedding day, but you may need to make plans in order to make the trip." "What trip?" Belle took a paper from the envelope. "I own a hotel on the River Walk in San Antonio. That's a reservation for the bridal suite, plus a dinner the night before, and breakfast in bed the next morning. I know you will need someone to care for your livestock while you are away, so I have arranged for one of my hired hands to ride over and do your chores for two days."

It was a kind and thoughtful gesture, and Kate could have throttled Belle, who looked at the envelope several seconds before saying, caustically, "How nice." As Cody rose to the occasion with a heartfelt, "Thank you, We appreciate it very much," Kate thought that Cody knew Belle better than she had supposed. Kate carefully guided the conversation into idle chatter about the weather, the coming wedding, and Suzie's visit. After what seemed a short eternity, York rose to leave. "Will you walk outside with me, Kate? I have something to ask you, in private." Suddenly, Belle decided to be civil. "Go on, Kate. You and York need some time alone." After that, how could Kate refuse? "Will you excuse us?" York held the screen door open, and Kate followed him outside. "It was thoughtful of you to

remember Mamma and Cody with such a lovely gift." York helped Kate down the porch steps. "Your mother seems to have taken a dislike to me. Has Sinclair been talking to her?" How could Kate give that an honest answer? "Mamma takes some getting used to. She's unhappy with some of the news Suzie brought from Dallas, and anxious about the wedding tomorrow." "No matter, that's not what I came to talk about." York brushed Kate's halfhearted explanation aside. "I have been asked to speak at the annual Texas Cattleman's Association Convention in San Antonio next week. I would like for you to come with me. We could make a day of it, get in some sight seeing, and there's a banquet and a dance that night." He leaned against a porch post, and waited. He must have sensed Kate's hesitation. "We won't be alone. My sister and her husband will be there. They will be glad to act as chaperons."

He was putting her in a difficult position. How could she refuse such a proper request after he had been so generous to Belle and Cody? "I don't know, York. I would have to make arrangements for someone to make my ride that day." York's eyes narrowed against the late evening sun. "Are you afraid Sinclair would refuse to let you go?" He frowned at that thought. He did know how to make her uncomfortable. "No, I can arrange to take a day off." York's frown converted to a smile. "Then you'll go?" "I guess so."Kate shrugged. He was making it almost impossible for her to refuse. "Then we have a date for next Friday. My sister, Harriet is anxious to meet you." He was moving too fast, and Kate felt helpless to stop him. "Mamma mentioned you had a sister."

York dropped a kiss on Kate's cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow, at the wedding." As the car sped away in a cloud of dust, Kate turned to see Suzie standing just inside the screen, watching her every move. Once inside the living room, Kate eased onto the couch, and began to stare at the face of the news anchor on TV. Lady hopped onto the couch and lay down beside Kate. In silence, they watched the news cast until the weather forecast for the next day, faded to black. Cody aimed the control toward the TV. It died away with a dull click. "York is a thoughtful neighbor, wouldn't you say, Belle?" "I'd say he knows how to get what he wants." Belle looked up from her crochet. "Wouldn't you say so, Kate?" All eyes were on Kate. "Who am I to argue with

you, Mamma?" Kate rubbed her hand through the soft fur on Lady's neck. "York didn't get any argument from you." "About what, Mamma?" Belle's crochet hook flew through the half-finished afghan. "I don't know what. I looked outside and saw you shaking your head yes to everything he said." "I didn't agree at first..." Kate caught her bottom lip between her teeth. "Stop it, Mamma." "Belle, Honey," Cody intervened, "If you want to know what York said to Kate, why don't you just ask her?" "And have her think that I am butting in to her private life?" Belle raised a provocative eyebrow. "It's not wise to go around poking your nose into other people's affairs, even when you see them making a big mistake." "Grandma's right," Suzie agreed, too readily.

"But on the other hand, shouldn't you warn someone you care about if you see them doing something foolish?" "First you have to know what they are doing," Belle argued illogically. She laid her crochet in her lap, and sighed. "And ifthey don't know what they're doing, how can you know if what they're doing is something they shouldn't be doing, so you can tell them not to do it?" Mamma was at it again. Kate snapped, "Mamma, that's an absurd statement." Belle corrected her daughter. "It wasn't a statement, it was a question." "I understand what Grandma's saying," Suzie chimed in. "And it makes sense to me. You understood it, didn't you Cody?" "Nope." Cody unfolded his newspaper. "I think I'll tackle something easy like figuring out the Dow Jones averages, or deciding how to balance the federal budget." For her own reasons, Suzie had decided to aid and abet her grandmother; and

Belle, by herself was enough to drive Kate out of her mind. "What do you want to know, Mamma?" With a wave of her hand, Belle asked, "About what?" "I don't know what, Mamma, because I don't know what the hell you are talking about." Riveting her eyes on Suzie, Kate added, "Why don't you explain to your dense mother the meaning of your grandmother's astute statement, excuse me, astute question?"Before the words were out of her mouth, Kate was sorry. She was taking her frustrations with her mother out on the daughter she had so recently made peace with, but Suzie had no right to agree with Belle. From behind his paper, Cody chuckled. "Why don't you tell these two nosy females what York said to you, Kate? I don't think either of us is going to get any rest until you do." "Is that what they want to know?" Kate asked in dulcet tones. "I think Lady's a little curious, too." Cody

peeked around his newspaper, and winked at Kate. Lady lifted her head and wagged her tail at the mention of her name. With a nonchalance that argued with the heavy beat of her pulses, Kate announced, "He asked me to go to the Cattleman's Convention next Friday." Looking as if she might burst with curiosity, Suzie questioned, "And?" "And nothing, that's all he asked." "She said yes, Suzie," Belle assured her granddaughter, with a superior smile. "Mom, you didn't." Suzie laid her hand over her heart. "Did you?" "Yes. I said yes. I've been out with York before, and I had a great time." Kate watched the light in her daughter's eyes die by degrees. A realization came with that dying light. Suzie had come here with some hope of bringing about a reconciliation

between her parents. Kate had to disabuse her of that idea, and the sooner, the better. "I'm an unattached female. Why shouldn't I go out with men?" Turning to Cody, Suzie asked, "Could I see some of the paper, Cody?" "Sure." Cody disassembled the paper, and handed Suzie a section. Kate sat, with her arm around Lady's neck, and watched her daughter hide behind the newspaper, and fight tears. Better the ache of present reality than the euphoria of future and false hope. How long before Suzie could accept what it had taken Kate, herself three years to admit? Her marriage to Jim was over. The evening passed without further mention of York's visit. Kate had decided to share Belle's room and give Suzie her bed. Now she was glad she had. She didn't feel up to facing Suzie alone, and hopefully, Belle would be so excited about her

coming marriage, she wouldn't plague Kate with a million questions about York the minute they were alone. Belle folded her new bedspread and laid it on a chair. "Tomorrow night, Cody and I will be in the bridal suite of some swank River Walk hotel. Michael and Sharon will be sleeping here, and you, Katie baby, will have to face your daughter alone." Kate sat on the side of the bed. "As if you're any help. You agree with everything she says. You know what she wants, don't you, Mamma?" Belle ran a brush through the sides of her hair. "I'm more interested in what you want." She studied Kate's reflection in the mirror. "What do you want, Kate?" "I'm afraid what I want, I can't have. I want Suzie to stop feeling guilty about her parent's divorce, and I want Michael to forgive his father." Belle picked up her brush and studied it carefully. "Do you know what your problem is

Kate? You spent so many years trying to be Kate the model wife, and Kate the perfect mother that you forgot how to be Kate, the woman. Katie baby, let go. You can't sacrifice your life to please Jim and your children, and that seems to be what you're considering doing." The truth of that assessment cut to the quick. "Are you saying I shouldn't try to make things right for my children?" "Do you have some idea of trying to patch things up with Jim so Suzie can shed her guilt, like a snake sheds it's skin, and Michael can go on denying his father has feet of clay?" "Is that what you are afraid I'll do?" Kate came around the bed and sat down beside her mother. "I'm scared out of my mind that's what you will do." "Relax, Mamma." Kate put her arms around Belle's narrow shoulders. "I have no intentions of going back to Jim McClure."

A small tremor ran through Belle's body, before she stiffened and sat up straight. "I've been worried sick, Kate, scared to death you'd make up with Jim because that's what your children want." "I could never trust Jim again." "So you are coming to grips with the truth. Shattered trust is like Humpty Dumpty. Nobody can ever put it back together again, not all the king's horses and all the king's men. Katie, Don't you think it's time you let go of the past?" With that blunt question, Belle got into bed and switched off the light. "Go to sleep, Kate. Tomorrow will be here before you know it." "Good night, Mamma." Kate laid down in bed, stared into the darkness and thought about what Belle had said. Was that her problem, the inability to let go? All her life Kate had tried to hold on. She had clung to Jim long after she should have cut all ties. She had refused to rid herself of the notion that she must protect her children, whatever the cost to her personally.

How may times had she tried to cast out those demons from her past, and move on? They kept coming back, like a recurring nightmare. Maybe the first step in exorcising them, was letting go of the past; not the memories, or the lessons learned, or the joys shared, but the bitterness, the recriminations, and the placing of blame. Kate nudged Belle with her elbow. "Mamma, are you asleep?" "Not now," grumbled Belle, as she turned on her side. "Not after you jabbed me in the ribs with your elbow." "Mamma, you're right." "My Lord, Kate," Belle gave her pillow a vicious punch, "Did it take you forty-six years to figure that out?" "No, I mean about letting go, and going on." "I guess I'm smarter than I thought I was." Belle shoved at her pillow with both fists. "Go to sleep, Kate, you can tell me about how great your mamma is tomorrow."

"Good night, Mamma." Kate put her hands under her head, and laced her fingers together. "Mamma, starting over begins with letting go. Well, I'll be damned." "Don't swear, Kate." That conditioned response, Belle could manage, even in her sleep. Kate stared up at the dark ceiling. Belle was right about tomorrow, too. It would be here before she knew it. Tomorrow was always here too soon, turning into today, stepping on the heels of yesterday, and pushing you right into the next tomorrow. Morning dawned, bright and clear. The grey of a night sky faded as a flush of brilliant blue climbed above the running ribbons of light unrolling over a rising sun. A cobweb of mist spun itself between the trees, and hung above the hollows and gullies, like a lingering ghost, disputing daylight by distorting reality. Kate woke to see her mother standing by the

window, looking out across the wide expanse of rolling countryside. She sat up on the side of the bed. "Mamma? Are you all right?" "Just thinking, Katie, baby." "About what, Mamma?" With a jerk, Belle turned. "About how the world looks brand new. About how the birds get up too early, about how scared I am." "Are you having second thoughts? Mamma?" Kate reached for her robe." It was not like Belle to be so pensive. "It's not too late to change your mind." She gave the belt of her robe an anxious pull. A smile softened Belle's troubled face as she turned toward her daughter. "I'm not scared I'm doing the wrong thing. I'm scared because everything seems so perfect." "Mamma, any happiness you have, you've earned, and it's long overdue." Relief caused Kate to draw an even breath. "And today is going to be perfect,

I promise." Three hours later, as Kate watched Michael's car come through the gate and travel toward the house, she wondered if she could make good on that rash promise. Suzie had said Michael was upset. And Kate knew how stubborn and uncompromising her son could be. If only, Kate thought, as she watched the car come to a stop, she was on better terms with Sharon. She had tried, when she first knew Sharon, to form a close relationship with her daughter-in-law, but Sharon's aloof coolness had frozen Kate. After several rebuffs, Kate had given up, and retreated behind a wall of silence. Now she found herself wishing she had tried a little harder to win Sharon over. And the look on Michael's face, as he stepped from his car, and surveyed the rundown old ranch house, added to Kate's apprehension. She waited until he had opened Sharon's door, and helped her from the car, before she put on her bravest face, and stepped through the screen door. "Sharon, Michael, welcome to Paradise."

Michael grabbed Kate in a hug that threatened to squeeze the breath from her body. "Mom, I'm so glad to see you!" He pushed Kate from him, and stared at her. "You've lost weight. Are you working too hard?" Kate patted Michael's arm. "I'm fine, Michael, and so glad you and Sharon are here." Extending her arm in Sharon's direction, Kate clasped her hand. "You're looking well, Sharon." Sharon shook Kate's hand. "Michael and I have been concerned about you since -- for some time." Over Kate's renewed assurance that there was no need for concern, Belle's, "Hello," sounded from the porch, as she came down the steps, followed by Suzie. Kate couldn't miss the tightening of the muscles along Michael's jaw line as he greeted Suzie. But his joy at seeing his Grandmother was spontaneous and unrestrained. Lifting Belle off the ground, he swung her around in a circle. "Grandma! How's my best girl?"

Maybe Belle would have her perfect day, after all. "I'm fine," Belle held onto Michael as he set her on the ground. "A little out of breath, but I'm supposed to be breathless, I'm a bride." Michael put his arm around Belle's waist and began to walk toward the house. "Happy is the bride the sun shines on today. Where is the lucky bridegroom?" "He's in his camper, down at the barn. You know I can't see him today before the ceremony. That would be bad luck." Belle's intended scowl melted into a look of total affection. "And we surely don't need any more of that." Irony tightened Michael's voice. Quickly Kate intervened, "You and Sharon and I can walk down to Cody's camper. You can meet Cody and Lady." She had to talk to Michael, and the sooner, the better.

"Does Cody work here as a hired hand?" Sharon's tone was mildly disapproving. "And who is Lady?" Kate told herself she must not read contempt into Sharon's remarks. "Everybody around here is hired help. We all work for Hank Sinclair. Lady is Cody's dog." Suzie was holding the screen door open. "Does it bother you to hobnob with the poor working class, Sharon?" Without waiting for a reply, she added, with a touch of malice, "Or don't you like dogs." Suzie's attack was inexcusable, but Kate understood. Suzie had treated Kate shamefully, now guilt, and a need to compensate made her overly protective where Kate was concerned. But this was Belle's wedding day, and Kate was not going to let her children's petty differences spoil it. Michael bristled, "Who are you, Little Sister, to question anybody's taste in friends?"

Suzie's face contorted in anguished hurt. Before she could reply, Kate astonished herself by saying, "Suzie, go into the house and help your grandmother pack." To her total amazement, Suzie followed Belle inside without a word of argument. Kate turned to face her irate son and bewildered daughter-in-law. "You two come with me. You can meet Cody, and then we are going to have a long talk." Without waiting for a reply, Kate began to walk toward the barn. The subdued young couple followed along behind her. They found Cody sitting on a bench beside the barn. He greeted the trio with a warmth that won Michael over immediately, and even melted some of Sharon's reserve. "We can't stay long," Kate explained, after they had chatted for a while. "I still have a million things to do." "I'll be up to the house about two-fifteen. Hank is

going to meet me here at two, and escort me up to the house." With the slightest twitch of his whiskers, Cody told Michael and Sharon, "Hank is the big boss around here. He's going to be my best man." "Cody, honestly." Neither Cody nor Mamma had bothered tellingKatethat Hank would be Cody's best man. "Don't you think you should have talked with me first?" "You couldn't be my best man, Kate, for several reasons. The main one being you're not a man." Michael couldn't suppress a little snicker. "I think maybe Grandma has met her match." Silently, Kate agreed, thinking, as she did so, that it was not by chance that Cody had neglected to tell her Hank would be his best man. But Belle had known, and she hadn't said a word. That was no accident, either. "We'll see you then, Cody." They had said their goodbyes, and turned toward the house, when Michael caught Kate's arm. "I like Cody, Mom. He and Grandma should make

quite a pair." "Don't I know?" Kate quipped, "And I am the hapless soul who will be living with that pair." Michael stopped and pointed to a log resting under a huge oak tree. "Not necessarily, Mom. Let's sit over here." He guided Kate toward a fallen log. "We can have that long talk." Sharon turned toward the house. "I think I'll go visit with Grandma." "No!" Kate's outcry, sharpened by fear of what Michael had in mind, sliced the air. "This concerns you too. Get over here and sit down." Sharon's eyes widened as she sat down on the far end of the old log. "I don't think my presence is necessary." There it was again, that remote voice that put a world of distance between Kate and her daughter-in-law. Always before Kate had retreated when she heard that cool rebuttal. This time, she refused to be intimidated. "I happen to think it is. Sit down.

If you have nothing to say, you can extend to Michael, and to me, the courtesy of listening." Sharon opened her mouth to speak, then apparently thinking better of it, clamped her lips together, sat down, and stretched her legs out in front of her, as she stared in disbelief at her mother-in-law. Michael sat down beside his wife. "Did Suzie tell you what happened?" "What happened when?" Dear God, she sounded exactly like her mother. "Mom, don't start with the evasions." And Michael could have been Kate, reacting with impatient frustration. "Maybe I should restate my question, and be very explicit. Did Suzie tell you Dad and I quarreled?" "She told me." On a burst of sudden emotion, Kate cried. "You shouldn't have, Michael." Michael jumped to his feet, jammed his hands in his pockets, and began to pace up and down.

"How do you think I felt when I woke up and realized what a bastard my own father had been? Mom, he threw you out of your own home, kept every dime the two of you had earned together over the years, then divorced you," A raging fury shook through his voice, as he spun to look down at her. "Why the hell didn't you tell me what was going on?" A ruffle of vexation brought Kate to her feet. She caught Michael's arm, and pulled him around to face her. "Because it was not, still isn't, any of your business." Her eyes locked into his, blue on blue, defiant, yet pleading. My divorce from your father, whatever the circumstances, or the outcome, is between the two of us, and you should not interfere." "You were trying to protect us, Suzie and me. And I might never have known if I hadn't been suspicious when you told me you were moving here because you were out of money." Michael raked one hand through his tousled hair. "Forgive me, Mom, I thought you were lying, playing on my sympathy, trying to make Dad look bad."

With a weariness born of regret, Kate eased her body back down onto the log. "I should have told you. I realize that now. At the time, I thought it best that you didn't know." In her zeal to protect her son, she had left him prey to the worst kind of disillusionment, the loss of faith in someone he loved and respected. Coming down beside her, Michael lifted his head to stare toward the whispering leaves of the old oak. "The situation has been corrected." "Stay out of this, Michael. It's over now, and best forgotten." From her perch on the end of the log, Sharon spoke for the first time. "I told you, Michael, you should have talked to Kate first." Sharon had never called Kate anything but Mrs. McClure. Kate, sounded if not encouraging, at least accepting. Michael kicked at the soft ground with the heel of his shoe. "And I told you, restitution was due."

Kate's heart fell to the pit of her stomach. "Michael, what have you done?" "You can go home, Mom, and live in your own house again." "I am at home. This is my house." Kate nodded in the direction of the old ranch house. "This is a hovel compared to what you had in Dallas. I won't hear to you staying in this god forsaken place. Dad has agreed to deed you the house, your house. He's moving to an apartment next week." "Oh, Michael." Her son's love for her, his concern for her well being caused Kate's heart to swell to overflowing. "Even if I wanted to live in that house, I couldn't. I can't afford it. The utilities and up keep for a month would be more than any salary I could hope to earn in Dallas. And the grounds have to be kept, and the swimming pool cleaned and cared for. The taxes are exorbitant. Tell your father thank you, but I don't want the house."

"Those things have been taken care of, Mom. Dad has agreed to set up a sizeable trust fund for you. It's no more than he should have done in the beginning, when he first left you to marry Lila." A feeling of utter dismay swept over Kate. "Michael, are you out of your mind? I want nothing from Jim. Not his house, not his money, and certainly not the chance to aid him in his pandering attempt to buy himself back into your good graces." Michael shackled Kate's tightly clasp hands with his fingers. "I thought you would be pleased that Dad and I had settled our differences." "I think what you and Jim have is an armed truce. Who came up with this preposterous idea?" Kate couldn't stop the tears that slid down her cheeks. "Mom, please don't cry. It was Dad's idea. He came to my office, and refused to leave until I saw him. I didn't have much choice, so I listened. He insisted that I draw the papers up that day, so I did. All you have to do is sign them."

Gently, because saying it caused her so much pain, Kate admonished, "Did it ever occur to either of you to ask me what I wanted?" With a shrug, Michael admitted, "I don't guess it did." Squeezing her eyes together, Kate tried to stop the tears that shimmered beneath her lashes. "Michael, I love you for caring about me, for championing my cause, so gallantly, but my home is here now. I don't want to go back to Dallas." "Mom, I thought you'd be pleased." The hurt look that twisted Michael's lips into a bitter smile, broke Kate's heart. With one swift movement Sharon came to sit on the other side of Kate. "Don't cry, Kate." Slipping her arm around Kate's shoulder, Sharon laid her other hand over Michael's. "I told Michael he shouldn't try to appease his guilty conscience by going along with Jim's plan, but he refused to listen." Kate wiped her eyes with her fingers, as she

searched for a way to utter what must be said. "Mamma and I have signed a five-year partnership agreement with Hank Sinclair. It's a fair and profitable arrangement. My life is here now, with Mamma and Cody. I am pleased that you care enough to be concerned, but I am more than capable of managing my own life, and from this day forward that is what I intend to do." "Michael's intentions were the best." Sharon reached into her pocket, found a tissue, and handed it to Kate. "He was trying to make things right, not interfere in your life." Kate dabbed the tissue to her eyes. "I don't think Michael realizes I have a life. He thinks my existence is bound up in my past, and it isn't anymore." Blinking away tears, she turned to her son. "Can you understand, Michael, why I must say no to Jim's generous offer?" Standing, Sharon offered her hand to Michael. "Let it go, Michael, Kate said no." "I won't try to persuade you, Mom." Michael helped Kate to her feet. "Maybe it's better this

way. But I think Dad is going to be disappointed." A dozen cutting remarks leaped into Kate's head. She stopped each one of them, before it could find its way to her tongue. "He will find a way to accept it. He has no choice." Kate dusted her backside with her hands. "Let's go. We have a wedding to attend."

CHAPTER TWELVE

"I Belle, take thee, Cody..." Through a rainbow of tears Kate watched the wedding ceremony unfold. The sun through the oaks dappled the ground in swaying patterns of light and darkness. Somewhere in the distance a soaring bird called

to its mate. "I, Cody take thee Belle..." Kate's eyes moved from Cody to Hank. For a man who didn't let passion dictate promises, he looked suitably moved, and surprisingly somber. He was also incredibly handsome, standing straight and tall beside Cody as the moving patterns of sun and shadow playing across his strong profile. Kate found herself wondering what he must be thinking. There was no way to tell. His expression was unreadable. "In sickness and in health..." Hank's eyes caught Kate's, and for the space of a heartbeat, she glimpsed there, vulnerability, hunger, and a flash of liquid green. The residue of a tear? "To have and to hold..." Kate dropped her eyes. The sentimentality of the moment was playing havoc with her imagination. She had seen the sunlight's gleam, nothing more. "I now pronounce you..." The brief, beautiful ceremony was drawing to a close. A hush fell over the gathered group. The breeze that had

sighed through the trees, held its breath. The birds ceased their incessant calling and answering. Even the creaking windmill postponed its next groan. "You may kiss your bride." On cue, the windmill groaned, the breeze mumbled through the leaves of the old oaks, the birds tested the air with cries, loud and clear. And Kate breathed a tremendous sigh of relief. She felt that same sense of relief two hours later, when Belle tossed her bouquet, and she and Cody pulled away in Cody's pickup. Having both York and Hank at the wedding reception, had made her edgy. But all had gone well, and when York left early, pleading he had a business appointment, Kate had been grateful for that circumstance. As he was leaving, York had pulled Kate aside. "Don't forget our date next Friday. We should leave early. Can you be ready by seven o'clock?" "Seven in the morning? How long does this convention last?" "It lasts three days, but I hesitated to ask you to

stay overnight in a hotel with me in San Antonio." York lowered his head, seemingly overcome with shyness. "I'll be ready," Kate agreed hastily, afraid that the other guests would wonder what was prompting this whispered conference. When she dared look around, no one seemed to be paying the slightest attention. But later, when Hank was helping Aunt Cat down the steps, she turned to Kate and asked in that high pitched voice, "Kate, dear, are you carrying on with that York Taylor?" Maybe living with someone like Mamma all this time had conditioned Kate against being upset by such an unexpected personal inquiry from a little old lady. "No, Aunt Cat. York is just a neighbor, and a friend." "Well, do be careful, Dear. Ask him his intentions." Over his aunt's head, Hank smiled and gave Kate a broad wink before taking Aunt Cat's arm and

leading her toward his car. Now, after watching the last guest depart, Kate sat on the top step of the porch, and closed her eyes. She didn't want to plan and oversee a wedding again for at least another decade. "Mom?" Kate opened her eyes to see Suzie standing over her, clutching Belle's bridal bouquet. "I caught Grandma's bouquet." Physical weariness tugged at every cell of Kate's body. "How could you miss? Grandma aimed at your head and threw." Suzie smiled. "I know. I asked her to." "Suzie! What an underhanded thing to do." "Maybe I should have told her to aim it at you instead. When you get back to Dallas, who knows what will happen?" As weary as she was, those words pushed Kate to

her feet. "Come into the house. What I have to say, I want to say to your brother also. How long have you two been hatching this little scheme." Suzie tagged after Kate, catching the screen door just before it slammed. "I wanted to tell you the good news the minute I got here, but Michael thought he should handle it." "Good news?" Kate didn't know which was worse, her children's long period of indifference and antagonism, or their tardy decision to make amends. "How dare the two of you conspire against your own mother?" Kate bit her lip in repentant haste. She had lost her daughter once because of her quick temper and uncontrollable tongue. "I know you meant well, but..." Kate sank down into the worn arm chair. "Call Michael. What I have to say, you both need to hear." With an exasperated little wave of her hand, Suzie made for the back door. "He's by the windmill." Physical weariness and emotional turmoil were taking their toll. Kate put her feet on the

footstool. Her tired brain began to assimilate bits and pieces of conversations and information into a cohesive whole. This entire plan to move her back to Dallas had been designed and orchestrated by Jim. But why? They came through the door, looking like a trio of street urchins, Suzie first, then Michael, hanging onto Sharon's hand. An arrow of pain shafted through Kate. She loved them so much! Knowledge pushed the arrow deeper. If she was not careful, she would lose them again. How did she balance her own independence against her desire to secure happiness for her children? "Sit down, and stop looking like I'm going to snap your heads off." How silly and trivial that sounded, like a mother chiding naughty little children. But they were no longer children, they were adults. Through a mesh of weariness and frustration, came Belle's words:"Do you know what your problem is, Kate? You spent so many years trying to be Kate the model wife and Kate the perfect mother that you forgot how to be Kate, the

woman." From somewhere deep inside she tapped into a reserve of strength she had never reached for before. "What do you want to discuss, Mom?" Michael sat across from her. "This is not a discussion, it's a statement. I will say it once, after that, the subject is closed." Was that Kate McClure? She sounded so confident, much more confident than she felt. She was only sure of two things. There could be no more protecting her children at the expense of her own well being, and no more parody of Kate McClure, the woman. Michael's anxious face reflected his concern. "Suzie said you were upset that we had discussed with Dad the best way to help you make the transition back to Dallas." "I'm not upset, Michael. And I'm not going back to Dallas. You must accept that." "But Mom," Suzie's plaintive cry floated out into the warm room.

Kate searched the words that would assert her independence without wounding her children too deeply. "No more, Suzie. I won't argue my case. You have to accept my decision." Michael scowled. "How do you explain...?" "I don't owe you an explanation, Michael." Kate thought they looked like the see, hear, speak no evil monkeys; Michael with one hand over his ear, Suzie wiping her fingers across her eyes, and Sharon with her hand clamped firmly over her mouth. Silence wove through the tension in the room. Finally Sharon dropped her hand. "Let me make you some dinner, Kate. You look tired." Kate slipped her feet from the footstool, and smiled. "Thank you, Sharon." She followed Sharon toward the kitchen, leaving her offsprings staring after her in stunned silence. Michael and Suzie accepted Kate's refusal to

return to Dallas, too readily, leaving Kate with the feeling that they were biding their time, waiting for her to let down her defenses before they struck again. By the time the countless outside chores had been done, twilight had settled, rolling in like a dusky fog through the trees and underbrush. Kate took Lady and retreated to Cody's camper, where she slept fitfully, through the long night, atop the covers of Cody's bed, with Lady curled up at her feet. Even through the long goodbyes that were said the following morning, Kate was tense, waiting for some mention of her refusal to return to Dallas. None was forthcoming. Michael and Sharon drove away with the promise to return in the summer. Suzie's plans were more specific. "I'll be back in two weeks, Mom, and David will be with me." By the time Suzie had driven through the gate, and turned north, Kate felt as if she had been

trampled by a herd of longhorns. Thank heavens she had the morning to recuperate before beginning her daily ride. Mamma and Cody should be home by late afternoon. With Lady following her every step, Kate walked to the back yard, and sat on a bench under the tall oaks, thankful for some time to herself. She had thought that with time and contemplation, she could make some sense of the weekend. Not so, one after another, thoughts chased themselves around in her head, until at last, she despaired of ever making order from the chaos in her mind. What had transpired to cause Michael and Suzie, and yes, even Jim, to want her to return to Dallas? "Kate! Kate!" From across the yard, Hank was striding in her direction. "I had about decided you left with Suzie." Kate frowned. "Where did you come from?" "I rode Diablo over. I have to go up to the line shack." He sat down beside Kate. His spurs

jingling as he moved. "Are you alone?" Kate nodded. "Just Lady and me." She was glad Hank had put in an appearance. She could tell him she would not be able to make her ride next Friday. "How is Aunt Cat?" "She's okay, sassy as ever." "She's an old dear." Kate's fingers slid gently through Lady's fur. "She cried all through the wedding ceremony. I know she's never been married; was she ever romantically involved?" "Aunt Cat? Yes. She was engaged once. I never knew for sure what happened. Dad told me once that she was jilted. I can't imagine anyone jilting Aunt Cat, and living to tell about it." "Maybe they didn't." Kate remarked with caustic humor. Hank thought for a few moments. "Maybe that's why it seems to be such a deep dark secret all these years."

Moments ticked by, as they sat in silence. Finally Kate broke the quiet. "Hank?" "Yeah, Kate." Kate drew a deep breath. "Do you think Billy Jack could make my ride next Friday?" Hank pushed his hat back and scratched the side of his head. "That's a bad day to want off, Kate. I have to be away, that makes us short handed. Is it important?" It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that if it weren't important, she wouldn't have asked. "It's important." "Damn, Kate, could you take off some other day?" Why was he making such a big thing of her asking for a day off? "I want to go to the Cattleman's Convention. They won't postpone it until you can give me a day off." Hank stretched his feet out, causing his spurs to

jingle. "I should have thought of asking you to go with us. You could learn a lot there." He smiled, as if her attending the convention had been his idea. "I suppose Billy Jack could make the ride for a couple of days. That convention lasts the entire weekend. I hope you've reserved a room. It may be too late if you haven't." "If I stay over..." Quite suddenly she decided she would do just that. "I'll make arrangements." "Gina's riding over with me. You can go with us, if you'd like." His smug suggestion fanned the coals of her smoldering indignation. "That's most kind of you, Hank, but I'm going with York." Hank was not a man who readily showed emotion, but Kate's caustic revelation caused his head to snap back, and his lips to thin. "Are you spending the weekend with Taylor?" "Take care of Gina, Hank. I can take care of myself."

Hank's bushy brows knitted together. "You've got a cocklebur under your tail. What happened?" "Awhat? Where?" His crude remark brought her up straight. "A figure of speech. God, you are one touchy female. Maybe sleeping with Taylor would soothe your ruffled feathers." His grin was insufferable. He was laughing at her, finding humor in her straight laced refusal to go to bed with him. "I told you once, I find casual sex disgusting." "Have you ever tried it?" She closed her eyes against his searching scrutiny. "No." "How can you be sure?" She slumped, like a wilted flower. "Can I have my day off, and can we discuss our views on sex some other time? Not that it would do any good. Just because nobody agrees with me doesn't mean I'm going to change my mind about anything."

Hank raised on shaggy eyebrow. "Rough weekend, Kate?" "Worse than that." Kate's shoulders sagged. "My weekend was rotten." "Do you want to talk about it?" "You wouldn't understand, It's Michael and Suzie. They gave me a bad time." She wondered, even as she spoke, why she was unburdening herself to a man who scoffed at making promises, and had no emotional ties to anyone. "What makes you think I wouldn't understand?" "You don't have any children. You've never been married." After brief consideration, she added, "So you don't have an ex to plague you either." "I thought he was out of the picture. What happened?" His serious response surprised her. She had half expected some flip, offhand comment. "So did I,

but it seems his young floozie left him, so now he wants to cozy up to comfortable Kate again." Quite unexpectedly, Hank asked, "Is that what you want?" "I want my children to be happy, and they want me back in Dallas." "Why?" Hank questioned. "Is this for your good, or theirs?" She had to think about that. "I'm not sure." Hank lifted his head to stare at the creaking windmill. "Would you care to hazard a guess?" "I don't know that their reasons are important." Kate studied the ground, and noticed that little swirls of dust caught at her boots when she kicked at a pebble under her toe. "Cody says we need a rain." "So you're going to run again." She could feel his eyes on her face. "And Cody's right. We could use a rain."

"I'm not running. I told them that I was not leaving Paradise." "This is not about geography. It's about you not facing up to why, suddenly, your children wants you back in Dallas." "It's a long story. For different reasons, they both feel guilty about what happened between me and their father." Hank stared up at the whispering oaks. "So their motives are selfish." That seemed a cruel judgment. "They don't see it that way. They think they're helping me." "And what about what's-his-name? How does he fit into the picture?" He intended to push her until she admitted what she didn't want to face. "His name is Jim. He's calling the shots. He's using his children to get to me. And don't ask me why. I don't know why."

Cynicism pulled Hank's mouth into a crooked grin. "Do you want to try guessing again?" This conversation had definitely taken a turn for the worst. "Can I have Friday and Saturday off, please?" Ignoring her request, Hank asked, "Why are you so afraid to admit, even to yourself, that Jim wants you back?" Bolting to her feet, Kate put her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, and stared up at the blades of the turning windmill. "If he does, it's for all the wrong reasons. He thinks he's lost his children's respect and love. If he can get their mother back, he's back in their good graces." "Kate, you amaze me." Hank pushed his hat to the back of his head. One of Kate's eyebrows pulled down into a half frown. "How?" "I never before knew anyone who could take two and two and make themselves believe it added up

to five. That takessome reasoning." "I don't know what you're talking about." She sat back down beside him. "Since you're a hell of a lot better at guessing than you are at reasoning, try guessing again." Was he deliberately trying to provoke her? "You are worse than Mamma. Did you know that?" "Changing the subject won't change the facts. What you are saying doesn't make any sense." "Why not?" Before the words were out of her mouth, she realized that she didn't want to hear his answer. "Any man who cares about his children doesn't use them to achieve his own ends. A ruthless man who wants something, or somebody, will use any means at his disposal to get what he wants. If Jim loves his kids so much why is he willing to manipulate them into putting pressure on you?" "Maybe Jim's conscience is bothering him. He

wants to make up for the miserable little sum of money I got when we divorced by giving me a house and a trust fund." "So, if he can't pressure you into coming back to him, maybe he can buy you?" She stood again. "There were no stipulations attached." Kate kicked at the dusty ground. "Are you going to give me Friday and Saturday off?" "Sure, Kate. But be back by Sunday. Billy Jack needs some time off, too." Standing, he asked, "Who said there were no stipulations?" "Michael did. He's an attorney. He did the paper work." Why did saying those words make her feel foolish? "I'm not going to sign anything." "I should hope not. You have a five-year contract with me. I don't want to have to sue you for breach of something or another." He was laughing at her again. "You won't have to. If you'll excuse me, I have to make my ride."

"Do you want to ride to the line shack with me?" The man was incredible. "No. Thank you. I'm riding the other way today." "You might want to reconsider. it's a long time until Friday." The implications of his veiled remark slithered into her brain. "You are unbelievable." Giving the crown of his ten-gallon hat a little shove, Hank strode toward the front of the house. "Be back in time to make your ride Sunday. See you around, Kate." Kate came home from her ride to find Mamma and Cody sitting in the kitchen, drinking coffee, and discussing their stay in San Antonio. "Yes sir, that River Walk is fabulous." Cody poured coffee into his saucer. "You have to go there, Kate. The river runs right through the middle of the city." "I'll see it when I go to the Cattlemen's

Convention." Kate poured coffee into a cup and carried it to the table. "The convention is in one of the hotels along the river. I've decided to make a weekend of it. When I make my ride today, I'm going to stop by Circle S and call the hotel for reservations." Cody took a sip from his saucer. "You won't be disappointed, Kate. San Antonio is a great place to visit." "Maybe you should do some shopping before you go, Kate," Belle said, over a yawn. "Some new jeans would be nice, and you will need a new dress for the dance." Kate couldn't afford a new dress. "I can wear my blue formal." "That thing," Belle was indignant, "went out of style ten years ago." It's all I have." Mamma was right. The dress was out of style, and probably needed a tuck here and there, to make it fit. "I may have to seam up the sides."

"And rip off some of those ruffles and flounces," Belle added. "You could restyle that dress, Mamma. Would you?" Belle could do wonders with a needle and thread. "I remember the first dress I ever made for you, Kate. You were about knee-high to a grasshopper. That dress was blue, too, as I recall." Reminiscence lit Belle's eyes. "You were so proud of yourself. You kept looking in the mirror and saying, "Pretty Katie, pretty Katie." "That puts me in mind of the first pair of long pants I had." Cody took another sip of coffee. "Papa took me to town in our old Model T. The pants were brown." "I remember the first party dress I ever owned..." Kate slipped out the door, to sit on the bench under the oak trees. She sipped her coffee, and watched the fireflies flash their signal lights through the purple twilight. What joy Mamma and

Cody got from coffee and conversation. At what price they had purchased such tranquility? Then she thought of Suzie and Michael, stumbling over the present in a frantic effort to catch an elusive future that was always just beyond the grasp of their anxious hands. "And here am I looking over my shoulder, regretting yesterday, as I tiptoe into an uncertain tomorrow." The creak of the windmill brought her up short. "Good Lord, I'm talking to myself." Kate saluted the windmill. "So long as I don't start tilting at you, Sir." "Kate?" Belle's shrill voice called into the twilight. "Here, Mamma." "Cody and I are going to walk down to the barn and get a few things from his camper. Do you want to go?" "No, Mamma. I think I'll stay here. I have some house cleaning to do."

"My Lord, Kate. At this hour of the day, on Sunday?" "It's mental house cleaning, Mamma." "Well. suit yourself. Good night, Kate." "Good night, Mamma. See you tomorrow." Over the next few days, Kate found herself becoming more and more excited about the coming convention, and her approaching 'date' with York. "Do you know how many years it has been since I had a date, Mamma?" "Be still, Kate." Kate was standing in the middle of the living room floor, wearing her renovated blue formal as Belle, her mouth full of straight pins, fastened tucks in place around the neckline. "You're wiggling around like a worm in hot ashes." "I was eighteen years old when I had my last

date, Mamma." Belle stood back and surveyed her handiwork. "One or two more tucks, and the job is done." She pulled the waist of the dress a little tighter, and pinned a tuck in place. "Don't worry about it, Kate. Dating is like riding a bicycle. Once you get the hang of it, you never forget how." Kate thought, that like most of Belle's analogies, the comparison limped. "Maybe the rules have changed." "You don't have to know any rules to ride a bicycle, Kate. You just get on, start pedaling, and don't look back. I knew a girl once who could ride a bicycle without even holding on to the handlebars." Kate viewed the dress with misgivings. "Mamma, you took all the ruffles off. I'm not talking about riding a bicycle, I'm talking about going on a date." "Who needs fussy ruffles? Where did you wear this thing, to a junior prom?" Belle spit the pins

into her hand. "Maybe dating is more like swimming. Don't get in over your head, if all you want to do is dog paddle." "No, Mamma. I wore it to a dance Jim's company sponsored." Mamma had lowered the neckline considerably. "Jim thought this dress suited me. And swimming and dating are not the same, either." Belle was pushing pins into a pin cushion. "It looks like him, fussy, too prim, and deceitful. Dating and swimming are both more fun after the shock of jumping in wears off." "Mamma, honestly, how can a dress look deceitful?" Kate had laid the dress on the couch, and was slipping back into her jeans. "And I'm not sure yet I even want to go near the water." "All those fussy ruffles and tucks covered up an elegant creation. The dress was deceitful." Belle reached for the garment "I'll have this finished by tonight." "And it's going to be beautiful, Mamma. Thank

you." Kate dropped a kiss on her mother's cheek. "I have to make my ride." "Did you talk to Hank yet about taking a day off?" Belle asked as Kate neared the door. "He gave me two days off, Mamma. That's when I decided to spend the entire weekend in San Antonio. I will have two whole days to do nothing but have fun." "Just remember. Kate, fun is like insurance, the older you get, the more it costs." Kate had laughed at that little remark when Belle made it, but several days later as she closed the lid of her over night case, after checking for the tenth time to make sure she had packed everything, she was beginning to think that the statement had more than a little truth to it. It had taken the better part of a week to complete preparations to go to San Antonio for the weekend, and she felt a little weary, despite the bubble of excitement that fizzed through her veins.

"Kate?" Belle called from the other room. "In here, Mamma." Kate stacked the overnight case beside her bag and coat at the end of her bed. Belle came to stand in the doorway of Kate's bedroom."Write down the name of the hotel where you will be staying. I don't understand why you didn't ride over to York's ranch and talk to him before you took matters into your own hands." "And have him think I was inviting him to spend the weekend with me?" Kate asked indignantly. He's probably coming home after the dance Friday night." Kate picked up a pad and pencil. "The bus from San Antonio gets to St. Agnes at noon Sunday. I'll see you and Cody then." She began to write on the pad. "I've earned a holiday, Mamma. I'll never have a better opportunity to shop and see the sights in San Antonio." "I'm surprised at you, Kate. You never used to make snap decisions."

"It wasn't a snap decision, Mamma. This jaunt has taken thought and planning." She tore the top sheet from the pan, and held it out to her mother. "This the name of the hotel. My room number's written there too." Belle slipped the paper into her pocket. "Cody and I will drive to St. Agnes Sunday morning, and meet the bus from San Antonio." "You won't worry about me, will you Mamma?" "Lord, Kate, if you can't take care of yourself by now, you never will be able to. Yes, I'll worry about you." Kate hung her coat over her arm and picked up her bag. "I haven't been on a vacation in twenty years." "York's car just stopped at the gate." Belle announced. "Jim took Lila on the cruise that was always my dream vacation." From nowhere came the tears, the hurt.

"Don't cry. Mamma loves her Katie baby." Belle put her arms around her daughter. "Are you crying because you want to go on a cruise with Jim?" That stopped the tears. "Honestly, Mamma!" Kate's head flew up, as she realized that was what Belle had intended. "Everything else is gone, Mamma. Why won't the pain go away?" "You were betrayed Kate, by someone you loved and trusted. Your heart was broken. A broken heart is like a broken leg, every now and then that old break aches just because it's been broken." Like most of what Belle philosophized, the words missed logic, and hit the truth, dead center, "Do you think I'll ever forget, Mamma?" York's Chrysler pulling to a stop outside caused Belle to scold, "Dry your eyes. Your date's here. After a while all you feel is a twinge." She hurried to open the screen door. York and Belle exchanged pleasantries as York

took Kate's bag, and helped her out the door. "Be careful Kate, and we'll meet you on Sunday," Belle called, as the powerful car pulled from the yard, and into the road that led to the gate. York seemed lost in his own thoughts, making no comment until Kate was back into the car after closing the gate. "Are you planning to stay the weekend in San Antonio, Kate?" Why did attempting to explain make her feel awkward? "I thought I needed a vacation. I have a reservation at the hotel where the convention is being held. Hank gave me an extra day off..." Her voice died away on the end of a sigh. York's hands gripped the steering wheel with tense fingers. "I wanted to ask you to stay over but...I was not sure..." His grip on the steering wheel tightened. "I was afraid to ask." Kate found the knowledge that she could confound this suave, detached man a little more than flattering. "Afraid? Why?"

"I had just given your mother and Cody a rather expensive wedding gift. I was afraid you might think I was expecting a..." He swallowed painfully, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down like a cork on the water. "Aquid pro quo . I would never want to offend you, Kate." His eyes left the road to look beseechingly in her direction. For no reason she could explain, Hank's face floated across the eye of Kate's mind as his crude words spoke silently to her ears. "Do you want to ride to the line shack with me? It's a long time until Friday."And York had been afraid to ask her to stay in the same hotel with him in San Antonio overnight. "I do believe you are shy." "Only where you are concerned, Kate." "I think you are sweet, too." He laughed, "We mustn't let that get out." paused, then admitted, shyly, "I had something else in mind. Harriet offered to call you, but I was afraid you would get the wrong impression." "I have the utmost faith in your intentions, York."

Kate touched his arm lightly with her fingers. "What did you want to ask?" The words seemed to leap from his mouth. "I wanted to ask you to stay at my sister's home over the weekend." "York, your sister...?" "Please," York held up one hand. "I talked with her about asking you. She lives on a ranch near Rio Medina. I've told her so much about you, she is anxious to get to know you." Kate opened her mouth to object. Before she had the opportunity, York hurried on. "Actually, Harriet is quite pleased with the prospect of me having what she refers to as a 'lady friend'. She worries about me. She'll be at the convention. You can meet her there." At least he hadn't suggested she hop in bed with him to ease her frustrations. "I'm looking forward to meeting your sister." "And will you consider spending the weekend at

her home?" York's embarrassment was like that of a teenage boy. "I am not suggesting anything...indiscreet. Harriet and Elroy will be there as chaperons." How could she refuse? "I have to be home by ten o'clock Sunday morning. I don't want Mamma to worry." "Harriet will be delighted, so will Elroy." Kate studied York's profile. "Who is Elroy?" "Elroy is Harriet's husband. Elroy Enghleman. Have you heard of him?" The name had a familiar ring. "Should I know him?" "Almost every one in Texas does, by reputation, at least. He owns Enghleman Enterprises." "ThatElroy Enghleman?" Chuckling, York said, "I don't think there's more than one Elroy Enghleman."

Elroy Enghleman was one of those self-made Texas entrepreneurs who had, by grit, guts, and sheer audacity amassed a fortune. He was a very private man who eschewed publicity, and refused to allow any media coverage of his personal life. "Elroy Enghleman is your brother-in-law?" Kate couldn't keep the surprise out of her voice. "I'm impressed." "He's a very sincere person." York slowed his car to a stop before pulling onto the interstate. "I know that sound trite, but it's also true." "I look forward to meeting Elroy also," Kate replied. "It's a short drive from Rio Medina to Paradise. We can leave early Sunday morning. I wouldn't want your mother to worry about you." York cleared his throat. "I wouldn't want you to fail to make your ride, either. Sinclair has a nasty temper, and you do work for him." Kate had never seen any display of bad temper that York insisted plagued Hank. "Hank is my

employer, and he has been very kind to Mamma and me. He is often blunt and caustic, but he's always composed, and in control." "Let's hope he stays that way." York's voice shook with emotion. "I can tell you from first hand experience that he can become violent and dangerous." Kate dismissed the words with a little shrug. York's dislike of Hank had affected his judgment. She changed the subject. "Tell me about the convention, and about your sister." York's tension seemed to melt way. "Ah, yes..."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Kate sat on the hotel patio that fronted onto the River Walk, and watched the tourist laden barges

that floated down the wide, winding stream. "Cody and Mamma told me about the River Walk. They said the river ran through the center of the city." York had insisted that they have lunch on the patio, and now Kate was glad he had. "Have you been to San Antonio before?" He raised his eyes to look at the huge trees that grew along the river's banks. "No." Kate let her gaze follow York's. "The trees are beautiful, and so green. I love the way the weeping willows dip their branches into the water." It occurred to Kate that she didn't know the river's name. "What is the river called?" One eyebrow climbed up York's forehead. "The San Antonio River, what else? But the Indians who lived here before the Spaniards arrived called the river Drunken-Old-Man-Going-Home-At-Night." "Why?" Kate watched as one of the barges docked, and its passengers begin to deploy.

"Because of it's many bends and turns. It doesn't run through the city, it twists through the city, like a lazy serpent." Turning his gaze toward the menu, York asked, "What will you have?" "You order for me." Kate laid her menu aside. "I'd like one of the Mexican dishes." "I'm having thecabrito. Would you like the same?" Kate wasn't sure. "What iscabrito?" "If I told you," York chuckled, "you might not want to try it, and it's really very good." "I'll try it," Kate promised, "Now tell me what I'm about to eat." Peeping around the menu, York smiled. "Goat." Kate's startled expression caused his smile to blossom into a full-blown laugh. "It's kid, actually.Cabrito is a young goat." Kate took a sip of her wine. "I've eaten

rattlesnake, and I love venison. I think I can managecabrito. " "Thencabrito it is." York signaled for a waiter. "Your sister is very nice." Kate took a tiny bite of hercabrito . It was delicious. Kate had met Harriet earlier in the day, and found her to be much warmer and more approachable than her brother. She was also a very attractive woman, tall, dark, and elegantly dressed. "I'm glad you like her. She likes you too. We will be sharing a table with Harriet and Elroy tonight at the banquet." After a pause, York asked, "What do you think of Elroy?" "He's not what I expected." Kate had thought Elroy would be an austere, cold man. Instead he was more like one of the munchkins fromThe Wizard of Oz. "Elroy is nice too." That elicited another laugh from York. "Elroy has been called many things, I doubt that nice is

one of them. You have fallen into the same trap everyone else does. Don't underestimate Elroy. Looks can be deceiving. Would you like a buneulo ? "What's abuneulo ?" "It's a kind of Mexican donut, a fritter, actually." Thebuneulo was delicious also. Kate ate the last crumb. "Tell me about the speech you are making tonight." "I will be speaking on the historical background of the artificial insemination of farm animals." Setting his wine glass down carefully, York explained, "Refinements in AI techniques over the last fifty years have opened up a new era for ranchers and farmers. The procedure has been highly successful with cattle, sheep, and poultry. There has been some measure of success with swine and honeybees." He stopped. "I've given you the introduction to my speech. You can hear the rest tonight. This afternoon I have a tour of the city planned. How does that sound to you?"

"Don't you want to stay for the seminars and workshops listed on the program for this afternoon?" Kate put her napkin on the table, and dusted crumbs from her skirt. "I'm a banker by trade. My avocation is ranching. I'd rather see the romantic old city of San Antonio with my lovely companion. Besides," York drummed his fingers on the table. "if we stay here, we are bound to run into Sinclair. I'd rather not risk that." Kate wondered why York chose the word risk to describe a chance meeting with Hank. Did he see it as a danger or a hazard? Surely not. It was a figure of speech. "Would you like to see the Alamo, and the Spanish Governor's Palace?" York extended his hand toward Kate. "We can ride a sight seeing barge, too, if you'd like." She had come here for a vacation, and fun. What York was proposing sounded like both. "Maybe we'll have time to go to the top of Hemisfair Tower." Taking York's hand, Kate let him lead

her toward the banks of the meandering river. The city was fabulous. It had an atmosphere and ambience all its own. York was a knowledgeable tour guide, and a thoughtful escort. He insisted, however, that Kate return to her hotel room to rest before time to put in an appearance at the banquet. "We have quite an evening ahead of us, the banquet and then the dance, and the drive to Rio Medina takes almost an hour. I don't want you to be tired before the evening starts." There was something in his thoughtful attitude that made Kate feel protected and secure. "I could use some rest, and maybe you need to rehearse your speech." "I've given this speech many times." They were standing before the elevator that would take them to Kate's room. York's hand was securely placed under Kate's arm. "I don't need practice. I'm the resident authority on AI in South Texas." Kate's smile was alive with warmth as she gazed

up into his face. "AI?" York's hand slid from Kate's arm to her waist. "AI is the acronym for artificial insemination." The elevator doors opened with a clang. Standing just inside the cage, were Hank and Gina. Hank stood aside, allowing Gina to step into the hall. He acknowledged York and Kate with a nod of his head. Maybe York had chosen the word, 'risk' wisely. Hank looked menacing, almost sinister. After a few curious stares, and one or two twittering whispers, the other occupants of the elevator moved down the hall, toward the lobby. An electric current tightened the air as Gina hooked her hand through Hank's arm. Her low-pitched voice dipped to a husky contralto. "Hello, Mr. Taylor. Kate, imagine seeing you here. How are you?" "Well, thank you." Kate inched toward the elevator. "Hello, Hank." She pressed her finger into the button that stayed the elevator door.

With a tip of his Stetson hat, and a clipped, "Gina. Sinclair." York moved to the back of the elevator, then turned and leaned his back against the hand rail. In that short eternity after Kate pulled her finger from the button and before the elevator doors closed, Hanks eyes singed like branding irons into her flushed face. Hank Sinclair was in a rage, not irate, not peeved, but fiercely, savagely angry, with a fury that called on every ounce of his self control to contain. As they were jerked upward, Kate kept her eyes glued to the control panel that announced each floor number: two, three, four, her knees were weak, and she felt as if someone had landed a fist to her mid-section. "Hank snubbed us. He didn't even want to speak. Why?" "Maybe he and Gina had a quarrel." York had removed his hand, and stood with it in his hand. "Sinclair changes women frequently. Gina has lasted longer than most." Six, seven, eight, As the floors passed, so did

Kate's moment of panic. Replacing it was a sense of righteous indignation. "I don't think so. I think he was angry because he thought you and I were coming upstairs to..." A quick intake of breath stopped her words, but not her racing mind. Just what had he been doing upstairs with that,that woman? York turned the brim of his hat around in his hands as he watched his moving fingers. "I don't think Sinclair would ever understand that a man and a woman could be just friends, or that a man would respect a woman enough not to want to take advantage of her." Nine, ten, as the elevator climbed, so did Kate's temper. "The hypocrite!" With a jolt, the elevator came to a stop. Kate grabbed for the hand rail to keep her balance. "Hank Sinclair is the worst kind of hypocrite." York took Kate's arm and guided her down the hall. "I've never seen you angry before, Kate. I must say, your temper does justice to your red hair."

That fierce temper had begun to cool. "I don't know why I got so mad." Kate was a little ashamed of her outburst. By now they were standing outside her door. "It's understandable. A double standard, however acceptable, can also be infuriating." "And he didn't want to speak to me? Honestly." Kate fumbled through her hand bag, and found her key. As he leaned against the wall, York studied Kate carefully. "Did anyone ever tell you that you are a very beautiful woman?" Kate was set to give some flip answer, but as she looked into his face, she saw a lingering sadness there, and bald honesty. Color reddened her cheeks. "Not for a very long time." "You are, you know, and in a most extraordinary way." Stooping, he kissed her, not a passionate, demanding kiss, as Hank's kiss had been, but soft, assuring, and holding a faint promise. Then he lifted his head and smiled. "Rest. I'll call for you

around six thirty." Kate stared after him as he walked away, with her key in one hand, and the other hand over her mouth. Why she had felt compelled to compare York's kiss to Hank's? Once inside her room, Kate closed the door, leaned against it, and stared at the glossy print that hung above the bed. A pink bird with an S shaped neck and a body like an ostrich, stood on one long leg in a pool of dun-colored muck. Kicking off her shoes, Kate fell across the bed. She could still taste York's mouth over hers. Relaxing, she yawned. This was not the way she had felt after Hank had kissed her. Even now recalling Hank's body pressed against hers, his tongue exploring her mouth, caused a surge of passion to quiver through her body. Sitting up, she demanded of herself, "What is wrong with you?" Falling back on the bed, she buried her face in her pillow and rolled to one side. Slowly, she raised her face to stare again at the ugly bird on the wall. "You don't know either,

do you?" Kate did know one thing, and it was a knowledge born of instinct rather than intellect. Anything Hank Sinclair did, had the uncanny ability to draw an intense response from her. She had never before reacted with such passionate fervor, not even to the man who had been her husband for twenty-five years. "He has me conversing with windmills and talking to ugly birds." Kate forced herself to feign sleep, until pretense became reality, and she dropped over the edge into a deep slumber. She awoke with a start. Crawling from her bed, she quickly showered and began to dress for the evening. She thought, as she stepped into her blue formal, that Belle had done a magnificent job. The dress hugged Kate's bodice like a second skin, then fell in soft folds from the waist to sweep around her feet, and make little swishing sounds when she walked. Leaning near the mirror, Kate squinted her eyes. The woman who looked back at her possessed a

delicately beautiful face, with a halo of curly red hair that cascaded around her shoulders and fell down her back. Kate had always prided herself on her small, well-proportioned figure, but riding horseback each day, had nipped inches from her waist, and firmed her muscles. Vanity, and a thought that she looked better now than she had ten years ago, caused her to smile at her reflection. "You will do," She told the woman on the other side of the glass. If she needed a second opinion as to her superb appearance, she got it when, moments later, she answered York's knock on her door. York at a loss for words was something to see. "Kate, you look..." He swallowed, hard. "Ravishing." "Thank you, Sir. I'm glad you approve." "I think approve is too mild a word. Try enchanted, or overwhelmed. I will be the envy of every man at the banquet, and I'll probably have to fight off competition with a bull whip at the dance." He offered Kate his arm. "Shall we go,

lovely lady?" Kate had dismissed his words as idle flattery, but later, as they sat with Elroy and Harriet, Elroy leaned across the table and said, "You must save a dance for me, Kate. I'm asking early because by the time some of these cowboys get a look at you, there will be a stampede. Remember, I asked first." "I'll remember." Kate laughed to cover her confusion. A request to dance with her was the last thing she had expected from Elroy. Kate soon discovered that sitting at a table with York Taylor and Mr. and Mrs. Elroy Enghleman was enough to elicit stares and speculation from almost everyone in the hall. Each time she lifted her face, she was made aware of the looks and curious conjecture of onlookers. She would certainly have a ton of things to tell Belle when she got back to Paradise. York excused himself. "If I don't show up on the speakers' platform soon, they'll be paging me." He swept the side of Kate's face with a feathery kiss.

"See you soon." Kate's eyes scanned the long hall. Sitting three tables away from her, were Hank and Gina. She lifted her hand in a small salute, and got, in return, an angry scowl. She turned away, determined not to let Hank Sinclair's disapproval spoil her otherwise perfect evening. Harriet laid her hand over Kate's cold fingers. "I am so pleased you agreed to come with York to Rio Medina for the weekend. Elroy and I worry about York, don't we Elroy?" "We sure do," Elroy agreed. Kate had the feeling that Elroy worried about little, past how he was going to make his next million. Harriet buttered the bottom half of a dinner roll. "I told Elroy just the other day, I said, 'I do wish York could find someone.' Didn't I say those very words, Elroy?" "You sure did, Honey." "He's been so alone and lonely since he lost

Carol." Harriet took a dainty bite from her buttered roll. "Have you known York long?" Kate stabbed a green bean. Harriet sounded like Suzie telling her how lonely Jim had been since Lila left him. She wanted to tell Harriet that she didn't intend to be a substitute for another woman, even if that woman was no longer around. Instead she smiled and popped the bean into her mouth. "A few months." "York says you run a ranch." Without waiting for an answer, Harriet forged ahead. "Elroy and I think that's wonderful. Don't we Elroy?" Elroy was watching the shapely legs of a retreating waitress. "We sure do." "My mother owns the ranch." Kate swallowed the last bite of bean. "The ranch is leased to Hank Sinclair. I work for Hank." As she said his name, Kate cut her eyes in Hank's direction. He was engaged in deep conversation with the man seated next to him. "You work for that horrible man?" Harriet's huge

eyes rounded. "Oh, dear. I didn't know that. Elroy and I think he's rather crude, don't we Elroy?" "We sure do." Elroy used the last of his dinner roll to mop gravy from his plate. Harriet leaned across the table. "He's here tonight, you know, and he brought that common woman with him. We think Gina Morton is cheap, don't we Elroy?" Elroy popped the gravy and bread into his mouth, and licked his fingers. "We sure do, Honey. I wonder what's for dessert." Kate wondered if Elroy ever disagreed with Harriet. She could think of no kind reply to Harriet's opinion of Gina. "York showed me some of the sights in San Antonio this afternoon. It's a fascinating city." Harriet refused to change the subject. "I told Elroy when Hank moved back to St. Agnes that he would cause trouble again, if he could. I said, 'That Hank Sinclair will cause trouble if he can.' Didn't I say those very words, Elroy?"

"You sure did, Honey." Elroy pushed his plate back. "It looks like we're having strawberry shortcake." Someone from the speaker's podium stood and began to introduce York. Harriet put one finger over her lips. "Elroy, please. York is about to make his speech." Elroy snorted. "I've heard York's speech four times already." But he leaned back in his chair, picked up his wine glass, and heisted it in York's direction. "Let 'er rip." By the time the last speech had been made, the last toast proposed, dessert dishes cleared away, and coffee was served, Kate had schooled herself not to look in Hank's direction. If she couldn't see his furious, condemning eyes, she wouldn't be intimidated. As York escorted Kate from the banquet hall into the dimly lit ballroom, he spoke into her ear, "I hope you got a chance to become a little better acquainted with Harriet and Elroy."

"We had a very nice visit." "In many ways Harriet is still a little girl." York was ushering Kate to a table for two near the dance floor. "My father had some old-fashioned ideas about women. He felt they should be cherished and protected. He always treated Harriet like a child. The result was, Harriet never really grew up." Kate sat down in the chair York held out for her. "I see." She couldn't tell York that she thought Harriet was shallow and self-centered. York sat down across from Kate. "Shall we forget about Harriet, and everyone else besides you and me? I want to dance with you again, Kate. I want to feel my arms around you once more." The mirrored ball that hung from the ceiling, rotated around and around, causing a kaleidoscope of lights to romp in and out of the shadows cast by the dancing couples. Kate thought, shadow and substance, careful, Kate, in

the darkness, you may not be able to tell the difference. She reached to clasp York's hand. "I'd love to dance." Although she could hardly be called the belle of the ball, Kate didn't lack for invitations to dance. All of this, York took in stride, smiling and nodding, each time some new partner appeared to ask for the 'pleasure of this dance'. Kate decided that York was secretly pleased to be the escort of a woman that so many other men found attractive. That pleasure, along with any pretense at good manners, vanished with the appearance of a tall, muscular young man who came to stand by their table. "Hello, Mr. Taylor." Without waiting for an invitation, the brash young man sat down, and smiled brazenly at Kate. "I don't know your lady friend, but I sure would like to." York's lips scarcely moved as he spoke. "Get lost, Beau." Kate thought Beau was a most inept name for the ruggedly handsome young man who ignored York's threat, and extended his hand across the

table in her direction. "Hi, I'm Beauguard Jackson. My friends call me Beau." "Kate McClure," Kate shook the hand that held hers in a loose caress, and refused to let go when she tried to pull away. "Beau's father owns the feed mill over in Jourdanton," York explained. "The truth is," Beau spoke with a slow drawl, "my old man owns half of South Texas. That's why Mr. Taylor doesn't run my butt off." Beau turned his chair around, straddled it, and pushed a hand through his long blonde hair. "I told my buddies over there," He jerked his thumb in the direction of the bar, "I don't care of old York Taylor is the meanest SOB in Atascosa County, I've just got to meet that pretty woman." Raising one eyebrow, he smiled. "So, here I am." "And now that you have proved to your uncouth friends how brave you are, you can go." York's words dripped with sarcasm. "Hey I didn't mean for you to get your hackles

up." Beau moved his chair nearer Kate. "God I never saw hair like yours before in my whole life. Will you dance with me, Kate?" How could she tell him, without wounding his male pride and marring his macho image before his young friends, that she was probably twice his age, and not interested? It would be best to do that out of York's presence. "I'd be delighted." Kate gave York what she hoped was a reassuring look. "Excuse us, please?" Beau followed Kate onto the dance floor, and pulled her close to him. "I think you made old man Taylor mad." "Old man Taylor? You sound like my son. To him anyone over thirty is ancient." "Oh, yeah? Your son sounds like one smart kid. How old is he?" "The kid," Kate told him, as she braced her arms to keep from being smothered in Beau's embrace, "is twenty-seven-years old." That, she thought

with a touch of smug satisfaction, should dampen Beau's amorous intentions. It didn't. Beau nuzzled his face in her hair. "He sounds like someone I'd like to meet." "You might want to meet my daughter too. She's a senior in college." Beau moved to the edge of the floor, and slowed his steps. "I don't care for girls. I prefer women." His hands were moving down Kate's spine. "I'm partial to women with red hair and blue eyes." Kate had been so sure she could handle this impertinent young man. Now she was not so certain. "Don't you understand what I'm telling you? I'm old enough to be your mother." In spite of her resolve to stay in control, her voice rose. "I have children your age." "Are you old Taylor's woman?" Beau's hot hand kept moving up and down her back. "I am not anybody's woman!" "Will you go out with me next Saturday night?"

"Young man, are you asking me for a date?" Kate couldn't believe anyone would be so brash and arrogant. "Damn right," was the swift reply. From behind Kate came the rumble of a deep masculine voice. "Back off, Beau." A wide grin of friendly recognition spread across Beau's face. "Hey, Hank, how's it going?" Hank took Kate's arm and began to guide her off the floor. Beau followed close behind. "Hey Hank, you can't walk off with my woman. I saw her first." "Kate works for me, Beau." Hank held onto Kate's arm. "Kate works for you?" Surprise tilted Beau's voice. "God damn! What the hell does she do?" "She runs the Paradise spread, among other

things." "I can guess what some of those other things might be." Beau grimaced under Hank's malevolent stare. "Am I getting out of line, Hank?" "Tell the lady goodnight, Beau." Hank did know how to intimidate with his uncompromising stare. "Good night, Kate." Beau grinned from ear to ear before he turned, and headed for the bar. Furiously, Kate turned on the man who had come to her rescue. "What was that for?" Hank pulled Kate back onto the dance floor. "Problems, Kate? Couldn't Taylor perform this afternoon? Is that why you were coming onto that young stud?" "I was coming on to him?" Kate was furious. "You insulting..." words failed her. "Let me go!" She tried to pull away, and found she was held in a grip that made escape impossible.

"Will you calm down, you little spitfire?" Hank was dancing her toward the front of the ballroom. Under the circumstances, she had little choice. After a few struggling minutes, Kate reined in her run away temper. "I suppose I should thank you. Can you believe it, thatboy asked me for a date? After I told him I had children his age. The very idea! Honestly!" Laughter rumbled deep in Hank's chest. "Welcome to the real world, Kate." A discreet, but well-aimed kick let the toe of Kate's shoe connect with the top of Hank's boot. "Don't you dare laugh at me." The rumble in Hank's throat erupted through his mouth. His laughter rippled out over the room. "Stop it," Kate hissed, "People are staring." Hank led Kate toward a little alcove near the front of the ballroom. From the corner of her eye, Kate saw York's brows knitted together in a perplexed frown. But he sat in his chair, as if he

had been glued there. "Let me go. York is waiting for me." Through clenched teeth, Hank gritted, "Will you shut up? Somebody needs to take you in hand. It's clear that Taylor can't control you." "Control me?" Kate shouted, then dropped her voice to a whisper. "What the hell do you mean control me?" By now Hank had succeeded in pulling Kate into the alcove and out of the view of the ballroom. "Will you shut up and listen?" "Listen?" Kate rammed her finger into Hank's chest. "Me? Listen to you? When donkeys fly,Mr. Sinclair, when donkeys fly." "Will you shut up? I have something to say." "I will not! Just because I work for you don't get the idea you can run my life" A pulse beat erratically at the base of Hank's throat, but his words were conciliatory. "I'm

sorry, Kate." "You are?" That was a change, and a surprise. "For what?" "For York's inadequacies. If you don't get rid of some of that pent up frustration, I don't know if I can live with you." Fiery anger exploded through the top of Kate's head. "You over sexed, middle-aged, egotistical, cowbo..." Hank stopped Kate's tirade by folding her into his arms, and bringing his lips down over her mouth. Kate stood rigid and still, fighting the liquid fire that swept through her veins, knowing if she moved, she would melt into his embrace. Hank used his tongue to tease her lips apart, then invaded her mouth with practiced expertise to sweep the inner recesses with possessive tenderness. Kate's heart jumped into overdrive. She

responded with a fervor as intense as her anger had been a few seconds before. Lacing her fingers through his hair, she moved seductively against him. It was Hank who broke the kiss, and moved away. He rubbed the back of his neck with a hand that was none too steady. "My God, woman, you're a walking time bomb. Want to go upstairs?" Blushing scarlet, Kate stepped back. She had never responded with that kind of fervor to a man before. "I..." She swallowed again. One kiss, and she had gone up like wildfire. "Excuse me." Kate caught the door facing of the alcove entrance. Her heart was racing, and her knees threatened to give way. With her back to Hank, she tried to compose her face. "What are you trying to prove?" "Why do you keep fighting it, Kate? Sooner or later, it's going to happen." He sounded so self-assured, so in control, and she

had made a complete fool of herself. She could feel his odious grin. "I'll be at the line shack Sunday morning. See you there." Turning, Kate stared at him for what could have been a second, or an eternity, before she lifted her skirts, and ran for the safety of the ladies room. By the time Kate had made it past the bar patrons and into the dimly lit ladies room, she had found some of her self control, but she was still shaking like a leaf in a windstorm. Hank Sinclair could make her angrier than any human being she knew, besides Mamma. She ran her hands through her hair, and pressed a tissue to her mouth. She returned to the table to find York nursing a drink, and waiting patiently. "Is everything all right?" Kate sat down and let out a long sigh. "Yes, and thank you for believing I had enough sense to handle my own problems. Most men I know would have charged in and embarrassed me. You didn't."

York studied the contents of his glass before pushing it from him. "Would you care to dance?" "I'm a little tired. We have a long ride ahead of us. Could we go?" York stood to his feet. "That's a splendid idea." He came around the table, and helped Kate from her chair. Kate stared straight ahead, as they made their way through the tables, past the bar, and out the door. The last person she wanted to confront again this night was Hank Sinclair. Sooner or later, she would have to face him. She decided not to think about that now. Once inside York's car, Kate leaned her head back, and closed her eyes. "Are you tired?" "A little, but I had a lovely time." She opened her eyes, and smiled at him.

"Did Sinclair annoy you?" "Not really." Kate didn't want to discuss Hank with York. She wondered why York hadn't ask about Beau Jackson, too. Maybe discretionwasthe better part of valor. She let the urge to mention Beau pass. They had turned off Highway 90 and driven several miles down a farm to market road, when a rumble of thunder in the distance caused York to observe, "It looks like a spring storm is brewing." Kate glanced out the car window to see clouds boiling across the dark sky. "It's moving in fast." Large splatters of rain began to slap the windshield. York turned on the wipers. "Yes, and it looks like a bad one." Jagged bolts of lightening danced across the horizon. "Those clouds look ominous." Kate shivered, and wrapped her arms around her waist. A rain storm that caused creeks and rivers to reach flood proportions in a matter of hours along low water crossings, was not something to be

taken lightly. "Maybe we should go back to the hotel." "I doubt if we could get back now. We've crossed Rio Medina. The danger now is getting caught and stranded between the river and the low water crossing near Harriet's home." York switched on the car radio. The dulcet tones of the announcer broadcast out into the humid air, alerting listeners to a tornado warning, and telling of a twister that had touched down earlier near a little town with the unlikely name of Von Ormy. "Is Von Ormy near here?" Kate huddled in the warmth of the plush seat. "It's several miles south of here. I don't think we need to worry. The storm is moving in that direction." York squinted against the force of the driving rain that lashed against the car, and made seeing anything beyond a few feet in front of him impossible. Kate was becoming more and more apprehensive.

"Maybe we should stop under an overpass." "There are no overpasses along this road. We're very near Harriet's ranch now." The water washed across the bumper of the car as they drove through a low water crossing. Kate could feel the pull of the swirling stream against the powerful automobile. She watched York's tense facial muscles as he fought to keep the car from being swept away by the swift, rapidly rising current. Only after they had driven out of the churning waters, and on to higher ground, did Kate breathed a sigh of relief. "We barely made it across." "We're safe now." York leaned forward, and strained to see the road. "Harriet's home is less than a mile away." The car finally pulled down a long winding driveway, and stopped before a huge ranch house. The area was ablaze with lights. "They're expecting us." York set his

emergency brake, and reached for Kate's overnight bag. "Let's go inside." The woman who greeted Kate and York at the door, spoke to York in a rapid staccato of Spanish, as she gestured with both hands. Nodding, York answered with,"Si, si." After a lengthy exchange, York made introductions. "Kate, this is Mrs. Sanchez, Harriet's housekeeper." The rotund woman greeted Kate in Spanish. " Buenos tardes, Señora." Kate struggled to remember her high school Spanish. "Good evening." After another lengthy, often heated exchange with Mrs. Sanchez, York guided Kate into the large living room, and motioned for her to sit down. "Harriet called an hour or so ago. She says Elroy has decided it's not safe to try to make it back to the ranch tonight. They're going to stay in

San Antonio. Mrs. Sanchez has been quite upset. She was afraid we had been caught in the high water. I instructed her to call Harriet and assure her we are safe." Kate sat down in a chair that had elk horns for arms. and thought that this room had to be a decorator's nightmare. "I hope Mamma isn't worried about me." "I'll call my house and tell my foreman to send someone over first thing in the morning to assure her you're safe." Mrs. Sanchez's heavy tread heralded her approach long before she appeared in the doorway, arms akimbo, as she rattled off words in Spanish. With each outburst, York nodded his head and looked a little more distressed. "Si, yes, yes. Yo comprende." York's face creased in lines of concern. "The phone lines seem to be down. Mrs. Sanchez is upset. She can't reach Harriet to assure her we

made it through the storm." Gusts of wind swept around the house, rattling windows, and shaking doors. A web of weariness spun itself around Kate. "The storm is getting worse." "Would you like a drink?" York asked. "I'd like to go to bed." Oh, Lord, Kate thought, what a field day Hank would have had with a remark like that. "I'm very tired." "I'll have Mrs. Sanchez show you to your room." York hastened to search for the housekeeper. Kate folded her arms and waited. She wondered if the guest room had stuffed heads mounted on the wall.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Belle poured coffee into a mug, and handed it to Kate. "What was it like being isolated on a ranch in the middle of nowhere with York Taylor for two whole days?" "Mamma," Kate put cream in her coffee, "Don't start." Belle poured herself a second cup of coffee. "Cody and I were ready to go to St. Agnes to meet the bus when York's foreman came riding up to tell us you were marooned on the other side of Rio Medina with his boss." "I hope you didn't worry, Mamma." "You left Paradise last Friday, and here it is Tuesday morning. Of course I worried." "We had to wait for the water to recede." Kate took a quick sip of the hot coffee. Belle reached for the sugar bowl. "Cody made your ride yesterday."

Kate set her cup down and grimaced. "I forgot all about that damn ride. Who made it Sunday?" Belle dumped a spoon full of sugar into her coffee. "You got a letter from Suzie. Hank's mad. Don't swear, Kate." "A letter? From Suzie?" Kate moved the sugar bowl to the side of the table. "You don't need that sugar, Mamma, and what the hell is Hank mad about?" She put the lid on the sugar bowl. "I'll swear if I damn well want to." "I need the energy sugar gives me. And it's not ladylike to swear. My Grandma Donovan used to say, 'No lady swears, it's not ladylike." Belle's mouth widened in an aggravating grin. "Maybe after two days alone with York Taylor, you're no longer a lady." Kate threatened, "Mamma..." The back door opened, and Cody came inside, followed by Lady and a gust of wind. "The prodigal has returned. Welcome home, Kate." He

pushed the door shut. "Did you have a nice trip? How long have you been home?" "Long enough for Mamma to start giving me the third degree," Kate complained. Cody ran his fingers through his damp hair. "I see things are back to normal around here." "Are you ready for breakfast?" Belle stood. "I smell those biscuits." Cody sniffed. "Let me get washed up, and I'm ready." Lady rested her head in Kate's lap, and wagged her tail in friendly greeting. Kate patted the dog's damp head. "Did you miss me?" Lady's tail thumped the floor. Belle bustled about, preparing Cody's breakfast. "We all missed you, even Hank. He came over Sunday night in the rain to see what had happened to you." Remembering her last encounter with Hank made

Kate stiffen with resentment. "I am not accountable to Hank Sinclair." She cut her eyes in Belle's direction. "What did he say?" Belle set a plate heaped with scrambled eggs and bacon on the table. "Katie baby, do you want breakfast?" "No, Mamma, I want an answer, but I see I'm not about to get one." Ignoring Kate, Belle spoke to Cody. "I saw that the clouds were clearing when I opened the door for Kate. Do you think the rain is over?" Cody buttered several biscuits and stacked them beside the eggs on his plate. "The rain's not over, just postponed. That's the way it is in the Brush Country in spring time, the rain comes and the rain goes, then the rain comes back again." Mamma was in one of her moods. Kate tried to think why. The reason hit her like a blow to the head. "Mamma, where is my letter from Suzie?" Belle stirred her coffee as her lips thinned in

displeasure. "Suzie is coming back to Paradise for another visit. She'll be here next Friday." Kate's spoon clattered to the table. "You opened my letter?" "It was addressed to me, too. The envelope said: Mrs. Kate McClureand Mrs. Cody Carter." "What else did the letter say?" The contents of the letter had obviously upset Belle. "Where is the letter?" "Your daughter has a nerve." "She's your granddaughter, too." Arguing with her mother was like trying to whistle and drink at the same time. "Where is the damn letter?" "Don't swear, Kate. You can read the letter for yourself, if you want to." Through clenched teeth, Kate ground out, "Not if I don't know where it is."

Belle scooped a bite of eggs from Cody's plate. "It's on my dresser, by that little music box Michael and Sharon gave me last Christmas. It's just a note. It says that she will be here Friday, and that she's bringing some man named David Gardner with her." Belle pushed another forkful of eggs into her mouth. "What do you mean, some man?" Kate demanded indignantly. "David Gardner is the man Suzie is going to marry." "She doesn't have to bring him down here to do that." "She wants us to meet him." Kate searched for some reason for Belle's objection to Suzie bringing David Gardner to Paradise, and came up with a blank. "Sometimes, Kate, I wish you had a little less intelligence, and a little more common sense." Belle pierced her daughter with a stiletto stare. Cody stood to his feet. "I got work to do, so before the fireworks start, I think I'll head for the

barn." His features softened. "Belle doesn't want Suzie to bring that David fellow here. When you find out why, Kate, let me know." "Whydoes Suzie want us to meet David?" Belle's eyes flashed with suppressed fury. "It took me a while to unravel that one. When I did, I was mad enough to spit." Cody opened the back door. "I think I'd best get out of the line of fire. Good luck, Kate." He closed the door just as Lady's tail cleared the opening. Belle poured another cup of coffee, looked defiantly toward Kate, then dumped the remains of the sugar bowl into her cup. "Your daughter is downright devious." "Maybe she came by that trait honestly, Mamma. And maybe you're mistaken. I don't know what you think Suzie is trying to do, but..." Belle pointed her spoon toward Kate. "Iknow what Suzie is trying to do. Suzie has some idea of getting her parents back together. She thinks she's

responsible for separating them, so she should be the one to get them back together." It was not like Belle to borrow trouble, but that sounded like what she was doing. "Mamma, that makes no sense at all. How can Suzie's wanting us to meet David have anything to do with trying to get Jim and me back together?" Kate used the back of her hand to push the sugar bowl to the other side of the table. "I've told Suzie that I don't intend to move back to Dallas, or to reconcile with her father." "Oh, Lord, Kate." Belle slapped her forehead with the heel of her hand. "Do you think Suzie believes that?" "Why shouldn't she? It's the truth!" Kate clamped down on her exasperation. "What's the truth today, may not be the truth tomorrow. Suzie doesn't intend to give up. Bringing David here is just another way to try to break down your defenses." "I can't see how meeting David would influence

my feelings about Jim." A surge of love for her mother swept through Kate. "Mamma, I know you are thinking of what's best for me, but I can't tell Suzie not to bring David here." "I know that." Grasping Kate's hands in a tight hold, Belle begged, "Kate, don't let them hurt you again, and don't do something you don't want to do because of what Suzie and Michael want. The rest of your life belongs to you. Don't let the past steal it away." "Mamma," Kate's heart overflowed with compassionate understanding. "I won't go back to Jim, ever." She attempted a laugh. It came out a gasp. "Jim hasn't asked me to come back to him. He probably never will." "Kate, you know..." Several loud bangs on the back door interrupted Belle's reprimand. "Answer the door, Kate." Kate took the sugar bowl with her. "I'm coming, I'm coming." She set the bowl on the cabinet and opened the door.

Hank Sinclair stood on the back step, water dripping from the brim of his hat, and a scowl marking his weather-beaten face. "If it isn't the wandering Mrs. McClure. When did you get home?" Kate squared her shoulders. "Would you like to come in?" Belle smiled her brightest smile. "Hello, Hank. Do come in. Kate finally got home, and none the worse for wear." None the worse for wear? What a choice of words. It was, she knew, an exercise in futility, but Kate sent her mother a stern stare. "Mamma, stop it!" Hank slapped his wet hat on the side of his pants. "Morning, Belle." Mamma was backing toward the door. "I just remembered, I have to help Cody. Would you excuse me, please?"

"Mamma, don't you dare." Before the words were out of Kate's mouth, Belle had slipped through the back door, and pulled it shut behind her. "Would you like a cup of coffee?" Kate took another cup from the cabinet. "Black," Hank snapped as he hung his hat on a peg by the door. "Do you want to sit down?" The jingle of spurs sounded as he walked cross the floor and pulled out a chair. Kate poured coffee. "Is it still raining outside?" "No." Hank's voice snapped with anger. "Are you sure you don't care for cream or sugar, or maybe both?" "Yes." He took a tiny sip of hot coffee. Hank didn't intend to let her off the hook.

"Would you like a biscuit? They're still warm." "I would like you to sit down, and stop beating the devil around the stump." That was plain enough. Kate sat down across from him. "There is no sugar in the bowl. Mamma used it all. I need sugar." "Damn it, Kate, sit down." The anger in Hank's voice argued for instant obedience. "I am sitting." She may as well get this over and done. "I'm sorry I didn't make my ride Sunday. We couldn't get home." Hank picked his cup up, then sat it down. "We, being you and Taylor. Harriet and Elroy stayed in San Antonio over the weekend. They didn't start back to Rio Medina until early Sunday morning." "How do you know that?" Understanding came slowly. Hank and Gina must have spent the weekend at the hotel too. Kate was set to tell Hank that she and York were not alone, the housekeeper was present, and that they had slept

in separate rooms, when full realization dawned. Hank had spent the weekend with Gina! Who was he to question her behavior? "You and Gina spent the week end in San Antonio?" "We could hardly start home in a driving rain storm. But that's beside the point. You could have asked Taylor's foreman to call me." Hank's voice was merciless. "Why didn't you?" "I forgot." Kate hastened to explain, "The telephone lines were down all Saturday night. When we finally got through, all I could think of was how worried Mamma would be if she went to St. Agnes, and I wasn't on the bus." Kate lifted her hands, then let them fall back into her lap. "I was afraid York's foreman wouldn't get here before Mamma and Cody left for St. Agnes. The ride slipped my mind." Hank finished his coffee in one long drink, then slammed the cup down on the table. "Do you know what I think, Kate? I think you got so wrapped up in that bastard Taylor that you forgot about your job, your mamma, and everything else."

Anger nudged in around Kate's feeling of contrition. "My personal life is not your concern. I said I was sorry." "Well, sorry is not good enough. We lost a calf while you were off cavorting around with Taylor." Hank slammed his fist down on the table. "This is the second time you've failed to live up to your end of our bargain. If this happens one more time, our deal is off." Fear shot through Kate, like a bolt of lightening. She couldn't let that happen. For the first time she realized how desperately she needed this job. "I won't fail to make the ride again." She wanted to cry, but she was not about to give Hank that satisfaction. "See that you don't," came his harsh rejoinder. How could she have been so stupid? She should have kept her relationship with Hank on a professional basis, and she hadn't. Once again, Kate had let her feelings for this man make a fool of her. "You have a legitimate complaint. But

since you won't accept my apology, I see no point in continuing this conversation." It took every ounce of her self control to keep the tears in her heart from finding their way into her eyes. "Good-bye Hank." Her cool dismissal didn't phase him. Why was she surprised? Hadn't she been warned he was a cold, heartless man? "You can make the ride twice a week after calving season." He could have been speaking to a complete stranger. "But until further notice, I expect you to make the ride, and to report every day." He stood, towering over her, tall and threatening. "I won't accept any more excuses." Why did she feel as if her heart might break? "I won't make any." She rushed from the room, leaving Hank to find his own way out. With tears blinding her eyes, Kate stumbled to her room, and fell across the bed crying as if her heart might break. The fear that Belle might find her, weeping her

heart out, caused Kate to stop her crying, and sit up on the side of the bed. Perhaps this had happened for the best. As things stood before, she and Hank were set on a collision course. He would have kept inviting her to go to bed with him, and as attracted to him as she was to him, eventually, she would have let him make love to her. As sweet and wonderful as that might be, it could only lead to disaster. She had learned a valuable lesson, don't mix business with your personal life. In the future, she would work toward establishing a good working relationship with Hank, but nothing more. Kate wiped her eyes with the tail of her shirt. This partnership was her lifeline. Without it she had no hope of ever turning Paradise into a profitable ranching enterprise. She couldn't afford to jeopardize her agreement with Hankby not keeping her end of the bargain. "Kate? Where are you?" Mamma must have been watching for Hank to go. Maybe she had been listening too. "In here," Kate wiped the last tear away.

"I told you Hank was furious." Belle leaned against the door facing. "So he thinks you've been cavorting. Have you?" "Mamma, you listened. And I don't care what Hank thinks." "Is that why you were crying like your heart would break?" Belle sat down on the bed beside her daughter. "Hank didn't mean what he said, Kate. He's jealous." "It's not jealousy, Mamma." Hindsight brought knowledge. "Hank thinks York succeeded where he failed, and his macho male ego has been damaged." "And we both know nobody is going to succeed until you get over Jim." Belle carefully avoided her daughter's surprised stare. "I am over Jim." "Are you Kate?" Belle's voice softened to a whisper.

"You don't believe me. Why Mamma?" "Old habits are hard to break, even bad old habits." "I'm not going back to Jim, Mamma." Why couldn't her mother believe that? "I know that, Kate." Belle's eyes filled with tears."I'm not talking about going back to him, I'm talking about getting over him." "I am over him, Mamma." It broke her heart to see her mother cry. "Is that why you refuse to let another man get close to you?" Kate couldn't tell anyone why she shunned any close physical relationship with a man. How do you confess, even to your own mother, that you are no good in bed? "Give me a little time, Mamma." As unusual, Belle went for the jugular. "Are you

that afraid of failure?" And, for once, Kate did not evade the truth. "Yes, Mamma, I am." Dropping her hand to the bed, Belle smoothed the wrinkles in the spread with the palm of her hand. "Remember, Katie what you told me about starting over being no more than letting go?" Kate dropped her head. "I remember, Mamma." "If you ever hope to find out who you are, you have to let go of what you thought you were because Jim told you that's what you were. Jim's image of you has nothing to do with the real Kate." As convoluted as the statement was, it brought comfort and consolation. It even made some sense. "Thank you, Mamma. You've given me something to think about while I ride today." The next few days, Kate forced herself to do a great deal of thinking, not only about what Belle had said to her, but about why Hank had been so

angry with her. The more she pondered over past events, the more entangled she became in the mesh of her own uncertainty. Kate didn't see Hank for two days. She was careful to make her daily report to Jake or Billy Jack. She wondered how much longer calving season lasted, and decided to ask today when she rode to Circle S to make her report. "Kate." Cody's voice sounded from outside the barn. "I'm in here, Cody." Kate tossed the saddle across Ringo's back. Cody came to stand beside the stall. "Belle and I are going to St. Agnes. Belle says is there anything you want from town?" Kate gave her saddle cinch one last tug. "No thanks, Cody." "Kate?" Cody's voice was hesitant. "Yes?" Kate led Ringo from his stall.

"I know I'm hitting on a sore spot, but I don't think you should ride today." "And have Hank fire me? No thanks." Cody shook his head. "I know how hard Hank is to please these days. He's like a bear with a sore head. But I rode this horse less than a week ago. I had a tough time keeping him in line. He's scared to death of thunder and lightening." "It's not raining, or thundering, or lightening, Cody." Kate patted Ringo's head. "See, he's gentle as a lamb. You sound like Mamma, going around looking for something to worry about." Cody would not be placated. "There's a big cloud bank in the west, and the forecast says rain. Ask Hank to get one of his boys to make the ride, if it's that important." Kate hated to be so uncompromising, when she knew Cody was concerned for her well being, but she had no choice. "I can't do that, Cody."

"Then get someone to ride with you. The weather report predicts rain. I don't think you should ride around this big spread alone in weather like this." "Are you joking? Hank would have my head, and my job if I even suggested such a thing." Kate laughed, but she didn't feel at all humorous. "I've made that ride at least fifty times." "I don't think it's a good idea, Kate." "I have to go, Cody." Kate began to lead Ringo toward the door. Cody followed after her, muttering as he went. "You're a stubborn woman, Kate McClure." Kate mounted Ringo, and with a wave of her hand, rode north. Facing a coming storm was preferable to facing an angry Hank if she failed to make her ride, and her report. She might even spend the day riding the range. Mamma and Cody would be gone until late afternoon. Giving Ringo a nudge in his flanks, she rode north, in the direction of the line shack.

The dark bank of clouds broke, and floated toward the southern horizon, spreading cobweb wisps across the sky. Kate patted Ringo's neck, hoping to reassure him, and herself. "The clouds are breaking away, that means the weather is clearing." The countryside was a wonderland of soggy splendor. Mexican doves swooped from the underbrush, crying into the morning air their sorrowful message of, "No hope, no hope." Reveling in their languishing lament, Kate veered toward the north pasture. From nowhere, and without the slightest warning, a loud clap of thunder boomed into the silent air. Seconds later a jagged bolt of lightening darted from the sky and skipped across the ground not two hundred feet in front of Kate. Ringo's nostrils flared. His head went up, and he reared on his hind legs. Kate yanked the reins toward her, as the

frightened animal shied to one side, and whinnied, like a frightened child. Momentary panic caused Kate to grab for control as she patted Ringo's neck. "Whoa, Boy, Whoa." Frantically, she sought to calm the spooked animal. Black clouds began to churn and boil across the sky. A whining wind rose up to protest in bursts and gusts that shook the soggy underbrush. The sun was swallowed up in the unexpected darkness that fell, like a final curtain, over the country side. Huge drops of rain began to slap into the soaked ground. She couldn't be more than a half mile to the line shack. Kate fought the panic that spiraled inside her, as she dug her heels into Ringo's sides, and urged him to a trot. A mighty clap of thunder rolled across the heavens, booming and echoing like the beat of a massive drum. Jagged fists of lightening reached from the angry clouds, and danced fingers of pointed light across the wet ground. The wind

exploded! Sheets of rain began to descend from the heavens as if the explosion had ripped a seam in the universe. The spooked horse galloped wildly across the open countryside. Kate hung on for dear life as rain pelted her back, and beat at her face, A frenzy of fear knotted in her stomach. Holding on, she fought to stay in the saddle. Ringo was a runaway. Stopping him now was an impossibility. All she could do was try to stay on his back. Then, in one suspended moment, Ringo stopped, raised his front feet, and pawed the air, as another flash of lightening leaped from the sky, and jumped across the horizon before vaulting back into the rolling clouds. Kate spilled backward over the horse's rump, and, with a bone shaking blow, struck the muddy ground. A searing pain split her head. Dazed and shaken, she scrambled to a sitting position in time to see Ringo dash madly away. The pain in her head knifed behind her eyes, and exploded inside her brain as blackness descended,

blotting out consciousness. Stirring from the darkness, Kate sat up, and ran her hands across her throbbing head. The rain had stopped. A weak sun shot rays from behind billowy clouds. The earth around her was a quagmire of muck and mud that clung tenaciously to her boots, her jeans, even her hands and her hair. She tried to rise, and found that was a mistake. A hammer was beating behind her temples, and her head felt as if it might split like an overripe melon. How long she had been unconscious? The sun had begun its westerly descent. Belle and Cody would be home by now. From behind, Kate heard the clip-clop of horses hooves beating into the muddy earth. She turned to stare in the direction of the sound. "Oh, damn." She dropped her aching head into her muddy hands. Riding toward her, mounted on Diablo, leading Ringo, and scowling furiously, was Hank Sinclair. "Oh, Lord," Kate moaned, "now there will be hell

to pay." She would never hear the last of this. Maybe she should roll over and play dead. "Kate, Are you all right?" Hank slid from his horse, and sloshed through the mud toward the wet, bedraggled, figure huddled on the soaked ground. Pain drummed through Kate's neck, as she slowly raised her aching head. "Do I look all right?" Hank knelt beside her, and began to explore her head with shaking fingers. "God, I was scared. When I saw Ringo standing by the gate, I knew something had happened to you." "Your powers of deduction are amazing. I'm soaked to the skin, my head feels like it might burst open, my backside is one big bruise, I sat on a cactus. How observant of you to suspect something had happened to me." Sheer relief sounded in Hank's laughter. His lips brushed across her forehead, as he lifted her into his arms, and began to walk toward his horse. "I see your mouth and your temper are still intact."

Each step he took sent a little pain shooting through Kate's head. "Put me down, you middle-aged Lothario. Do you want to get a hernia?" "You do know how to make a man feel virile." Hank sat Kate in Diablo's saddle, then put his foot in the stirrup. "I can ride Ringo," Kate protested, as Hank settled behind her. "Shut up and sit still, Kate." Hank hooked Ringo's reins over one wrist. "You're in no condition to ride. Do you know you could have been killed?" Kate shivered. "You Simon Legree. You're the one who told me to make this ride in the first place." "Be quiet, Kate, I have to get you to the line shack, and out of these wet clothes. Maybe you can think of a few more names to call me once we get there, but for now kindly shut up." Hank

pointed Diablo in the direction of the line shack. Ringo trotted along behind. Kate rubbed her hands along her arms. "I'm freezing. I want to go home. I need a bath." Hank dismounted, tied the horses, and lifted Kate from Diablo's back. With one swing off his leg, he kicked the shack door open. "What you need is a wallop on your backside. You knew better than to ride a horse in an electrical storm." "Put me down! Who the hell do you think you are, talking to me like I was a juvenile delinquent?" Kate could feel her temper slipping away. Hank walked toward the bed, his spurs jingling. "You are heavy enough to give me a hernia." He tossed her on the bed. "Get those wet clothes off before you catch pneumonia, and I lose a good cow hand." "With you standing there staring at me?" Kate folded her grubby hands across her mud-streaked shirt. "Not on your life, cowboy."

Coming down on the bed beside her, Hank began to unbutton Kate's shirt. "You are one stubborn woman." Furiously, she slapped his hands away. "What the hell do you think you are doing, you, you..." "Running out of names, Kate? Try boss." Hank's stony glance was calculated to stare her into submission. "Get out of those wet clothes." Kate stood and felt water squeeze from her boots, and seep into her soaked socks. "Get out of my way. I'm going home." A strong arm shot out and grabbed her. "You are going to do exactly as I say. Get those clothes off." Kate's wicked temper ignited. "You can't tell me what to do. Get out of my way!" Doubling her hand into a hard little fist, she swung at Hank's chin. He caught her hand, just in time. "Damn you

Kate, no woman takes a swing at me, and gets away with it. Get those wet clothes off, or so help me, I'll take them off for you!" Anger lifted Kate's chin, flew banners of color in her cheeks. "You wouldn't dare." A mocking smile creased Hank's weather-beaten face. "Take off the wet clothes, and use the water in that can to wash up, or I'll strip you myself, and scrub you down with a corn cob. I feel responsible for you. It's my fault you went out to ride in the rain." A niggling voice in the back of Kate's head sent out little warning signals. Hank was feeling more than a little guilty. Maybe she should do as he asked. "You have to go outside. I can't undress in front of you." A cold chill ran through her body, making her realize the wisdom of Hank's request, no Hank's order. "Go on, get out of here." His mocking smile degenerated into a belly laugh. "Why? You are not exactly the picture of feminine allure. There's mud in your hair, dirt on your face, and your clothes are filthy. It's raining

again. I know enough to come in out of the rain even if you don't." Watching the satisfied smile of triumph that was spreading across Hank's face, rekindled the embers of Kate's temper. She had tried to be nice to him, to reason with him, and he had returned her kindness by insulting her. Lifting her fingers to the top button of her shirt, she made to unfasten it. "You can at least turn your head." Still laughing, Hank turned his back to her. "Take them off, Kate." Moving swiftly, Kate ran past Hank, and out the line shack door. She was untying Ringo's reins before Hank's hands grabbed onto her arms and held them fast. "You little spitfire. You have come up against the wrong man." He threw Kate over his shoulder. "This time, Kate, you've gone too far." Kate ground out furiously, "Put me down!" "Not until you are out of these clothes, and

scrubbed down." Hank set Kate on his knee. "Your backside is full of prickly pear stickers. I can pull them out for you." Kate had never been so humiliated. She fastened her teeth into the hard muscles of His shoulder, and bit, hard. Hank stood to his feet, and cried out in pain. Kate landed with a thud on the floor. He swore under his breath. "Damn you, woman." Kate saw her opportunity. She made a dash for the door. A strong arm caught her before she was halfway across the floor. "No you don't, not again." Hank tossed Kate on the bed, and came down beside her. "Damn it, Kate, you're getting mud all over the bed." "I didn't ask to be in your bed." Kate spat the words at him. As she turned, her shirt pulled open, revealing the soft swell of her breasts.

"You've been asking to be in my bed since the first day I set eyes on you." Very gently, Hank's hands pulled the shirt from Kate's body. Mesmerized by his solemn confession, she made not the slightest move to stop him. His lips dipped to touch the hollow of her throat. "Driving me insane with desire, making me wild with wanting you!" The shirt was dispensed with post haste, then the bra went. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to answer his ardor with passionate honesty. "What if I can't please you?" He unfastened her belt, then unsnapped her jeans. "We can please each other, sweet Katie. trust me." Hank tossed his shirt over his shoulder. Kate guided his face to the softness of her breasts. "Can you show me how?" "We can show each other."

"I don't know," Uncertainty nudged in to challenge passion. "I don't think I..." Those seeking lips were driving her into a frenzy of yearning. Hank guided her hand to the evidence of his desire. "Don't think, Kate, feel." She had to explain. "Most of the time I can' t..." Shame made her voice rough. "I don't reach a climax." "Katie, relax. I'm not asking you to perform according to some standard, I'm asking you to let me make love to you. Let me show you how much joy loving fulfillment can bring to both of us." His hands were instruments of erotic splendor, wandering over her body, exploring, caressing, as they lit little fires of desire along their pathway. For the first time ever, Kate gave her body permission to feel, not fear, and the result was a floating, languid sensation. "Tell me what to do."

"What do you want to do, Kate?" His voice was soft in her ear. "I want to touch you here," Her hands moved across his muscular chest. "and here," and came to rest on his tight buttocks. "I want to taste you here." Her tongue licked at the tight male nipples. She dipped her head, "And here." A shudder ran through his body. "You have my permission to touch and taste any part of me."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Hank took his time. "Boots first." Sliding Kate's water soaked boots from her feet, he pulled away the soggy socks that clung to her damp toes. Helping her to her feet, he slid her jeans down over her hips, kissing the hollow of her naval as

he pushed the heavy denim away. "You're beautiful, Kate." It would occur to her later, that what she thought was spontaneity could have been no more than the fine art of practiced seduction. But the bemused woman who now shivered under the gentle touch of those enticing fingers, the knowing influence of that seductive mouth, had moved past rational thinking, and slipped into the mind boggling realm of sexual surrender. In a matter of moments, she stood before him, clad only in a pair of thin bikini panties. From somewhere deep inside him, a low moan rose to escape through his dry lips. "Oh, Kate!" His hand reached to pull the last flimsy barrier away. She ran her hands long the strong muscles of his arms, and watched as a shiver of desire ripped through his hard body. Pulling her to him, he buried his face in the softness of her abdomen. "I knew it would be like this, the Fourth of July and Christmas rolled into one." His tongue traced a path down her quivering stomach. "Just touching you sets me on fire." Lifting her in his arms, he

laid her nude body on the bed. With amazing agility and speed, he divested himself of every stitch of his own clothing, and came down beside her. Drawing her, oh so gently into his arms, he began to make love to her. His crooning voice was an aphrodisiac, his mouth and hands instruments of exquisite wonder. Like the swelling of a gentle, but insistent tide, passion rose, ebbed, climbed higher, fell again, then elevated until Kate was pulled into an erotic eddy that swept away every trace of restraint, any remnant of refusal. Her surrender was as complete as it was abandoned. With that abdication of anything past instinct, came an unerring sense of his every need, every desire. Her own craving was an echo of his sensual hunger. The mud smeared bed became a paradise all its own. "Kate, Kate, Darling." Hank positioned himself over her with pliant ease. Kate's body moved in erotic jerks, as it pulsated

with tiny aching seizures. Arching toward him, she begged for the release that only he could give her. "Please, please." He entered her body with tantalizing restraint, then began to move easily, smoothly, maddeningly. Her head arched back, the white column of her throat rose and strained, as deep inside her, a force of pleasure began to build, and expand, threatening her reason, intimidating her sanity. The bliss that was first concentrated in her loins, unfolded and spread to her belly, her breasts, her legs, her arms, even out into her finger tips, until she was a mass of quivering, expectant joy. The joy climaxed and burst into tidal waves of ecstasy, as she felt his essence spill into her body. The waves receded into ripples of complete fulfillment. As he held her, she felt rapture pouring from him, his heart hammering, his muscles jerking in unchained joy. "Kate, Kate, my Kate!"

Through a haze of exhilarating contentment, she heard him speaking her name, over and over. Her first sane thought was, this man belonged to her now. Sobering reality made her reconsider her bold assumption. The one thing that would drive him away would be some declaration of enduring affection. Kate contented herself with snuggling nearer to him, and nestling her head on his shoulder. Hank caressed her body, lovingly. "Cat got your tongue, Kate?" "I guess." She didn't trust her voice. It sounded unreal, and far away. She knew she should run, move, escape. Her traitorous body refused to obey. Hank laughed with sated contentment. "Ah, Katie, if you had been any better, I'd be a dead man. God, you are some woman." She wasn't sure he meant it, but oh, how she needed to hear those words. She let her fingers tangle themselves in the hair on his chest as her drifting body made one last effort to remain

awake, and failed. Kate woke to find long shadows had crept silently into the room. Hank lay beside her, sprawled across the bed, one bare arm thrown carelessly around her waist, the other trailing off the side of the bed. She sat up and ran her fingers through her matted hair. The impulse to run was overpowering. She began to untangle her grimy clothes from Hank's. First, she slipped into her muddy jeans, then pushed her arms into her grime-caked shirt. Time enough later to sort out the many conflicting emotions that slammed around inside her. For now mere survival seemed tied to escape. She couldn't face Hank now, not after the wanton way she had behaved. One heartbreaking realization returned over and over, to taunt her. She had entangled herself in an impossible situation. Pulling her damp socks on Kate pushed her feet into her boots, and tiptoed to the door. Then she paused to let her eyes linger lovingly on the man who lay stretched out on the bed, sound asleep. How could she ever face him

again? She pulled the door almost shut, and ran toward her horse. It was too late to complete her ride. Turning Ringo toward home, Kate gave him a gentle nudge. Mamma was probably frantic by now. Belle took one look at her daughter, and asked, "What in the world happened to you?" Kate unbuttoned her muddy shirt, and tossed it to one side. "Ringo threw me. The storm scared him, Cody was right. I shouldn't have ridden in weather like this." "Go take a shower, Kate." Belle moved about the kitchen. "When you come back, you can eat supper. She handed Kate a cup of hot coffee. " Wheredid Ringo throw you? It must have been a far piece away from here. It's almost dark outside." "Mamma, damn it, you know what I mean. Ringo didn't throw meto any place, he threw meoff his back." Why, Kate wondered, as she grabbed a towel, and a bar of soap, did she bother trying to

explain anything to her mother? Especially since Belle didn't intend to believe anything she said anyway. "You look like he threw you into a mud hole. How long did it take you to get out?" Kate slammed the back door behind her. Sooner or later, she would have to deal with Mamma's cross examination. A clean body and food in her stomach should make the rigors of that task easier. Remembering the hours she had spent in the line shack with Hank caused Kate to sing in the shower. That kind of lovemaking could become addictive. Kate sighed as she recalled the touch of Hank's hand on her breasts, her thighs, the way his lips had moved over her body. He had carried her to peaks of pleasure she had not known existed. "Stop it, you fool!" She forced herself to remember that Hank was already involved with another woman. Not that his liaison with Gina mattered much to Hank. Hadn't he told Kate that

he didn't make promises he wouldn't keep? And hadn't York once remarked in passing, that Hank changed women frequently? Kate pulled her robe around her. Was that what she wanted, to be another female in the long, endless line of Hank Sinclair's women? Her heart ached inside her. Not only did she not want to be, she didn't intend to be. A heartbreaking realization swept over her. For her own well being, indeed her own sanity, she could not let Hank make love to her again. It was not only fool hardy, it was down right dangerous. She stood to lose not only her job, but her heart. The intense physical response he had pulled from her was reason for alarm. The profound feeling of possessive adoration he kindled in her heart caused panic to rise in her throat. Kate slung her towel over her arm. "I can't let this happen. No man is worth the price of heartbreak, not even Hank Sinclair." Belle was strangely quite as she set food before Kate. It was a quiet that made Kate instantly

suspicious. Maybe Belle had found a new way to play her cat and mouse game. Kate asked, "Where is Cody?" Belle was carefully busy. "Do you need Cody for something?" "Mamma, can't you give me one simple answer?" "I don't have any answers." Belle poured coffee into a cup, and put it on the table. "All I have are questions." Well, she had walked right into that one. "What question, Mamma?" Kate pulled the sugar bowl to her side of the table. Belle sipped her coffee, and shuddered. "Too bitter." "Good." Kate lifted the sugar bowl lid, and saw it was empty. Reaching for the canister on the edge of the table, Belle grinned. "I put the sugar in here." She tugged at the lid. "Were you hurt when Ringo

threw you?" Kate's smile was wry. "No. Mamma. I'm all right." As she dumped a spoonful of sugar into her coffee, Belle asked, "Did you land on your head?" "As a matter of fact, Mamma, I did." Kate reached for the canister. "Mamma, do you want your triglyceride count to go up again?" The instant the back door opened, Kate knew it was Hank. She heard the jingle of his spurs, smelled the after shave he wore, felt his presence in her bones. Belle stopped stirring her coffee, and smiled. "Hello, Hank. Don't bother knocking, just come on in. My Lord, you must have been dumped in the same mud hole Kate fell into." Kate thought her head was fastened to her neck with a rusty hinge. She could not turn. "Hank? Why are you here, at this hour?"

The jingle of spurs told Kate that Hank was moving toward the table. "Hello. Belle, Kate." Without an invitation, Hank pulled out a chair, and sat down. His eyes caught and held Kate's in a defiant gaze. Belle had not missed the look that passed between Hank and Kate. "Hank, do sit down. Would you like a cup of coffee?" "Mamma." Kate sent her mother a furious warning stare. She could have saved her time, and her breath. Belle blithely proceeded to chat with Hank is if he were a welcome guest, not an uninvited intruder. "Would you like a piece of apple pie? I made it yesterday." "Pie sounds great." Hank looked down at his hands. "Could I wash up first?" Remembering where those hands had been, and what they had done, made Kate blush furiously. "There's mud in your hair, too." The anger she felt at his bold encroachment crept into her voice.

Over the running water, Hank asked, "Belle, could I talk to Kate for a few minutes? We have some unfinished business to discuss." "Don't mind me." Belle helped herself to a generous slice of pie. "Lord knows I'm not a butinsky." As unsettled as she was, Kate could not keep her smile from surfacing. Belle could aggravate a saint. Hank sat back down, much too near Kate. "The business is of a personal nature. Do you mind?" Belle sprinkled sugar over her pie. "No. I don't mind at all." Hank's fingers drummed on the table."It's also private." Completely composed, Belle pushed her fork into the crust of her pie. "I'm not a blabbermouth, either."

"Damn it, Belle, will you get out of here and let me talk to Kate alone?" Belle stood. "All you had to do was say so. I can take a hint." As Belle disappeared into the living room carrying a cup of coffee in one hand, and her slice of pie in the other, Hank shook his head from side to side. "She did that on purpose, just to irritate me." "You don't know the half of it. But feel flattered, she only does it to people she cares about." "While you're explaining motives and behavior, Kate," Hank's voice was light, but through that bantering tone ran a note of somber sincerity, "tell me why you took me to my own line shack, ravished me, then rode off into the sunset without even waking me to say thanks." He made a helpless little gesture with his hands. "I never before felt so compromised." "You're not funny." Kate studied her coffee cup. "I didn't want to disturb you."

"Katie, you've been disturbing me since the morning I walked in here and found you asleep on the floor. Why did you run away?" She thought how stupid this conversation was. It was the man who was supposed to run, leaving the woman feeling bereft and cheated. "I couldn't face you after you..." Kate swallowed painfully. "After we..." She blew breath through her nose. "Damn it, I was scared." "Were you disappointed?" "About what?" Hank pushed his hat back, and scratched his head. "Do you and Belle take lessons in how to ask obtuse questions? Did you like making love with me?" "Do you want a signed statement, or a recommendation?" He had devastated her with his lovemaking, now he wanted her to tell him how wonderful he was. Hank's eyes narrowed. "How about a repeat performance?"

"No, thank you." "Why not?" She didn't want to anger him, and he looked as if that would be easy to do. "I don't think we should become involved personally." Hank threw both hands in the air. "Good God, woman! We've shared the same mud hole and the same bed. How personal does it have to get to be involved personally?" Damn him. Why didn't he go away and shut up? But he was her employer, and she did want to hold onto her job. With a meekness that belied her rising wrath, she asked, "Can't we forget about what happened?" "Did you run because you were disappointed?" And she thought she was insecure. "No, what happened was wonderful." Hank stabbed his pie with his fork. "Compared to

what?" "And you say Mamma and I ask obscene questions! What do you mean, compared to what?" Hank jabbed the pie again, then twisted the fork around, viciously. "I didn't say you asked obscene questions, I said you asked obtuse questions. There's a difference. Obtuse means stupid, obscene means indecent." Kate hissed, "Don't Call Mamma stupid, she'll hear you. Don't you know she's listening, just outside the door?" Hank lifted his hat, then ran one hand through his hair. "My life was relatively quiet and reasonably peaceful until you and Mamma came along. Since that first morning I walked in here and found you sleeping on the hay, I haven't had one sane minute." "We didn't do anything to you." "Not much, you didn't. Mamma aimed a shotgun

at me, and you -- hell, you did worse than that." The events of that morning played across Kate's memory. "As I recall, I was very polite and nice. At least I tried to be. You were the one who was rude and boorish." "Didn't do anything?" Hank's voice rose. "My God, woman, you paraded around in a tissue paper thin gown with that patch of red hair between your legs itching and twitching and winking at me like crazy. I couldn't think of anything else for days." Kate's hands flew to cover that spot between her legs. Hank's admission that he had been sexually attracted to her from the beginning was as frightening as it was surprising. "Thatis obscene." "No," he argued, "That is obtuse. It's stupid to get turned on by a triangle of curly red hair wiggling around under a gauzy gown, but that's what happened." Kate studied his face for some sign that he was joking, and found none. "I suppose I should be

flattered that you found me attractive." "But you aren't?" He asserted with caustic contempt. With his frank admission, her anger died away to be replaced by a nervousness she couldn't control. "Yes, I am." Kate laced her shaking fingers together. "But I don't think being attracted to a patch of hair is..." She glanced toward the door, hoping for some sign of her mother. There was none. "Sexual attraction alone -- seems wrong..." The more she tried to explain, the more hopelessly mired she became in the quagmire of her own words. Sheer exasperation made her toss her hands in the air and declare, "I don't want to talk about it." "Well, I do," Hank shot back. "What was so wrong with what we did that you don't want to do it again?" "I didn't say it was wrong. I said we shouldn't do it again." Lord, she sounded like a teenager in the throes of guilt over her first sexual escapade.

Hank tasted the pie. "This is good." He laid the fork on the table. "Give me one good reason." "What about Gina?" Kate grimaced at that thought. "Hank grinned. She's not a true brunette." "I know," Kate snapped, angered anew by his cavalier reply, "That sex is no more than fun and games to you, but I can't be that blasé about it. I refuse to be one of your women." "Are you jealous of Gina?" With sudden insight she knew she was. "No. Of course not. Why should I be?" "The same reason I don't like you spending the weekend with Taylor. Does he know by now that you are a true red head?" "That...How...? My Lord, what a question." She was set to tell him that York knew no such thing, when some instinct of self preservation stopped her. Maybe her best defense against this virile,

aggressive man was the misguided belief that she had been with York. Unable to find a suitable reply, without blurting out the truth, Kate blew breath through her mouth, and gave Hank the dirtiest look she could muster. "Cat got your tongue again, Katie?" Lady charging through the back door just head of Cody, spared Kate the pain of having to answer. "Hey, Hank." Blissfully ignorant of the battlefield he was invading, Cody extended his hand toward Hank. "I thought that was your horse tied out there." Hank shook Cody's extended hand. "Howdy, Cody." "What happened to you?" Cody took in Hank's muddy clothing, his agitated expression. "You look like you were run over by a Mack truck." "The equivalent," Hank returned, dryly, as his gaze moved from Cody to Kate.

Cody's appearance was all that was needed to prompt Belle to step around the door, and back into the kitchen. "Well, Cody, I thought I heard you come in. Sit down, I'll get you some coffee, and a slice of apple pie." Hesitantly, Cody asked, "Are we interrupting something?" As Kate lowered her head, and Hank cleared his throat, Belle replied, "You could starve to death waiting for these two settle their differences. Sit down, I'll get your food." Taking plates from the cabinet, she asked, "Hank would you care for more coffee or pie." "No thanks, Belle." Hank's spurs jingled, as he walked toward the back door. "I have to go. But I'll be back. We can talk then, Kate." Belle insisted on dragging out the goodbyes as long as possible. "It was so good of you to come by, Hank." "Yeah." Hank replied. Hank was stepping outside when Belle added,

"Don't be a stranger now, Hank." "I don't intend to be, Belle." "Say hello to your Aunt Cat," Belle called out the back door as Hank rode away. Then turning, she asked, "Isn't he a nice man, Cody?" Cody wasn't fooled. "Depends on how you want to look at it, I reckon." "He's a nice boss," Belle said. "I think he'd be a nice catch, too." "The last few days he's sure had a burr under his saddle." Cody's eyes twinkled. "I think Kate can do her own fishing." "Don't start, Mamma" Kate warned, "I have more important things to think about. Suzie and David will be here tomorrow. I have my plans all made. David can stay in Cody's camper. Suzie can sleep with me." The weighty matter of Suzie coming to Paradise caused Belle to postpone her interrogation about

what had happened between Hank and Kate, and concentrate on her granddaughter's approaching visit. "My granddaughter is up to no good. I can feel it in my bones." "You don't know that for certain, Belle," Cody argued "Can't you give her the benefit of a doubt?" Belle was too involved with Cody to pay any attention to Kate when she said, "Good night, Mamma." "Good-night, Katie baby." When she made her ride the next day, Kate gave the line shack a wide berth. Her encounter with Hank was best forgotten. Suzie would be at Paradise by the time she got home, she would think about that. Kate stayed longer than usual in the barn, taking her time as she rubbed Ringo down, and put fresh hay in his stall. The Cadillac Coupe de Ville parked in front of the house told her Suzie and David had arrived. Shewas anxious to see Suzie.

Why, then, was she keep finding excuses to linger in the barn? She could only procrastinate so long. Kate began to walk toward the house, thinking as she went that she must be careful. One false move, one careless word, and she could lose her daughter again. "Hi." Kate smiled at the four people seated in the living room. "Mom!" Suzie rushed to embrace her mother, then turned, toward the slight built man who had followed her across the room. "This is David." "Cody and I were wondering what happened to you, Kate," Belle smiled too sweetly in Kate's direction. "We thought maybe you stopped at the line shack." Over Cody's chuckle, Kate warned, "Mamma!" David Gardner was not what Kate had expected. He as a slight built man with an easy smile, a receding hairline, and a glib tongue. "Now I

know where Suzie gets her good looks." "You look tired, Mom." Suzie motioned toward the couch. "Sit down. You shouldn't be out in the sun, riding a horse." "Riding every day is good exercise. I've never felt better in my life." Belle chimed in, "And she doesn't spend all her time riding. There's a line shack up the way. She stops there, sometime." "Have you been here long?" Kate sat down on the arm of the couch and nudged Belle's back with her fingers. "How are Michael and Sharon?" As she spoke, Kate assessed David Gardner. He emitted a quiet air of confidence that was not in the least intimidated by Belle's veiled innuendos or Kate's unbending demeanor. "They're both well. Michael sends his love." But Suzie was nervous. "Sharon says to say hello to everyone."

An uncomfortable silence fell. It was a quiet resulting not from a lack of things to be said, but from the fear of saying too much. Cody broke the awkward hush by announcing he had chores to do. Belle decided to accompany him. "I want to see after my baby chickens." Kate slid from the arm of the couch to occupy Belle's place on the sofa. She decided a direct approach was the best way to diffuse this tense situation. "Tell me about your wedding. When will it be, and where?" "We're still not sure." Suzie seemed reluctant to discuss details of her coming marriage. "Are there problems?" Kate knew she was being blunt, maybe offensive. At this point she didn't much care. Something was amiss here, and she intended to find out just what that something was. David was the one who answered. "Not between Suzie and me, but the truth is, my divorce wasn't final until the first part of last week. Suzie refused to set a definite date for our wedding until I was

legally free." Suzie leaned forward in her chair, anxiety carving every feature of her lovely young face. "Mom, please don't be upset." "Why should I be upset?" Suzie had failed to mention that David had a wife. This certainly put a different light on the situation. "A little shell shocked, maybe, more than a little surprised, but certainly not upset." She sounded exactly like her mother. Kate sighed, thinking that it was no easier being on this side of the fence. "Mrs. McClure -- Kate." David interrupted. "May I speak frankly?" "You mean you haven't already?" Kate bit her lip. "You don't have to say more. Neither of you owes me an explanation. Mr. Gardner, your past is not my concern." Not the least intimidated by Kate's caustic words, David asked, "Do you think we could be on a first name basis?'

"I only met you a few minutes ago." "But I'm in love with your daughter, and I intend to marry her, with or without your blessings." David made a visible effort to reign in his rising anger. "It's important to Suzie that you approve of our union. I would be more at ease if you allowed me to explain." Put that way, refusing seemed petty. With a reluctance bred by doubt, Kate nodded her consent. "I'll listen, but I don't promise more than that." David expelled a deep breath. "I met Suzie at our Christmas office party last year." "Yes, Suzie told me that much." "I was immediately attracted to her." A self depreciating smile teased the hard lines around David's mouth. "I was afraid to tell her I was legally tied to another woman, even thought Marsha and I had not lived together as man and wife for several years."

Suzie let her eyes linger over David's troubled face. "I was attracted to you, too." David lifted Suzie's fingers to his lips. "I didn't tell Suzie about Marsha, and I lied about my age. I will be forty-one in two months. I conveniently dropped five of those years when I told Suzie my age. I knew she wouldn't give me a second look if she knew the truth." Quickly, Suzie came to David's defense. "But David confessed all this later, when we realized we loved each other. There is nothing between us now but love and understanding." "And an ex wife." Kate injected her words with a little fang of venom. Tears began to collect in the corners of Suzie's huge brown eyes. "Mom, please don't do this." David put a comforting arm around Suzie's shoulders. "Your mother will come around, Angel. I promise. I'll find a way to make this right."

Kate felt herself relenting. This was the man her daughter had chosen to marry. She would have to accept that. "Now that you have explained, why don't we forget the past, and think about the future?" "Oh, Mom, thank you for understanding!" Suzie wiped at the tears that had collected in her eyes. "You don't know how scared I was." Kate relaxed against the back of the couch, relieved to have this painful encounter behind her. "I'm not sure I do understand, or approve. I do appreciate your honesty." Relief softened David's features. "I felt I owed you that explanation." Suzie ran a possessive hand over David's arm. "Didn't Dad and I both tell you Mom would be understanding?" Resentment stiffened Kate's spine as she sat bolt upright. "You discussed telling me this with Jim? Why?" Before the words were out of her mouth, she wished she could recall them.

Suzie's hand tightened on David's arm. "I talk over many things with Dad. He's all the family I have in Dallas, besides Michael, and I'm not sure Michael approves of my marrying David." David kissed Suzie's cheek, then suggested that she go visit with her grandmother for a while. "Let me talk to Kate alone. We can iron out any problems that might arise." Suzie stood slowly to her feet. "Is that all right, Mom? Will you discuss this with David?" "I'm not sure I know whatthis is, but go. Grandma is at the chicken house near the barn." As Suzie's back disappeared through the kitchen door, David turned his attention to Kate. "I hope you don't think I was being high-handed, sending Suzie away, and assuming you will discuss this rather delicate matter with me instead of your daughter, when we have only just met." "It might help if I knew what delicate matter you wish to discuss." Even as she spoke, Kate

upbraided herself for being so caustic. This man would soon be her son-in-law, whether she approved of him or not. In a much more civil tone, she added. "Why don't you tell me what we are supposed to be talking about?" David walked slowly across the room, then turned to faced Kate. "My divorce was not a pleasant experience." "Divorces seldom are." Kate retorted. David glared at her before his gaze softened, and he began again to speak. "Marsha and I had been separated for almost five years. There were no children, I assumed she would comply with my request for a divorce. That was not the case. She fought me every step of the way." He paused, and sent Kate an anxious, questioning look. "She named Suzie as co respondent. The entire sordid mess was spread all over every paper in Dallas. Surely you read about it." "I don't read the Dallas papers," Kate informed him, caustically. "I didn't know."

David moved to the other side of the room. "There was a great deal of publicity, much of it unpleasant. I didn't mind for myself, but it was most distressing for Suzie." By now David was pacing across the room again, his agitation mounting with every step. "On the heels of all this messy business with Marsha, Suzie doesn't want to be married in Dallas." Small wonder that Suzie had been so distraught. "Then where will you go?" "Suzie would like for us to be married here, under the oak trees in the back yard, where her grandmother and Cody exchanged vows." That came as a surprise. "Why?" Kate questioned bluntly. "Because she's sentimental. She wants all of her family present at her wedding. She didn't say so, but I believe she thinks that having the wedding here is the only she can be assured of your presence. "

"Is that the delicate matter you wished to discuss?" Kate couldn't keep the bitterness out of her voice. David stopped pacing long enough to nod in Kate's direction. "Suzie is trying very hard to make amends for her past actions." He ran one hand through his thinning hair. "Basically, that's the delicate matter." "What about your family? Would they object to the wedding being here?" "My father is my only living relative." David's slight form fitted itself into Cody's overstuffed chair. "He thinks an out of town wedding would be best. Our law firm does have a public image to maintain." She had to ask, and there was no easy way. "And what about Jim?" Her words were a signal for David to begin his pacing all over again. "That is the crux of this delicate matter."

"Jim doesn't want to come here?" Kate could understand that. "David, will you sit down. please? You're wearing a trail through Grandma's rag rug." David stopped pacing and perched on the edge of the couch. "Thank you for the 'David'. More to the point, Jim is afraid you don't want him here." "I don't." Kate saw no reason to mince words. "My divorce was not a pleasant experience, either." "Suzie blames herself for that divorce. I think you know that." David came to stand directly in front of her. "She so wants to make amends." "Suzie is not responsible for what happened between Jim and me." Kate assured him. "But I'm not sure Jim's coming here would be a good idea. I would have to talk to Mamma. This is her home, too" "Then you would consider it?" David began to pace the floor once more. Then, stopping suddenly, he turned. "I think you will find your

husband a changed man." "He's my ex-husband, and we all change with time and experience." Impatience put a definite snap into Kate's voice. "I have to talk to Mamma." "Do you think she will object?" "To the wedding being here? I don't think so. To Jim's coming to Paradise? Who knows? Mamma is not the most predictable person in the world. Will you sit down, David? We can work something out." David sighed with relief as he eased into the overstuffed chair. "Suzie is sure her grandmother will object to her marrying an older, divorced man." The thought impinged that the parallels in David's divorce from his first wife, and Jim's dumping Kate were staggering. "The only way to know what Mamma thinks is to ask her. But don't ask if you don't want to be told in graphic terms." David confided, "That's what Suzie is doing now.

We planned our strategy carefully." "Divide and conquer?" Kate realized, belatedly, David and Suzie had plotted their every move. "I hope you don't think us calculating. This is very important to Suzie." "I suspect you always calculate the odds before you act." Her statement sounded like an accusation. In a way, it was. "There are some practical factors to be considered. This is not a large house. We can't accommodate more than one or two extra people overnight," "We thought of that. We have made some tentative plans." "Who, exactly, is we?" Resentment cracked Kate's voice. "Suzie, Jim, my father, and me." "And what didwe decide?" She scorched him with a searing glance.

"Please don't think us presumptuous." David extended his hand in a pleading gesture. "This is as painful for me as it is for you. Suzie is so afraid that you will reject her again. She is fearful that you will hate her for becoming involved with a married man. I don't think she could bear that." David's concern for Suzie tempered Kate's resentment, softened her reply. "I love my daughter. I would never do anything to hurt her, and I don't intend to lose her again, ever. Now, tell me about your plans." "My father owns a recreational vehicle. He would drive that here. Jim would be welcome to stay with Father." Kate thought that Jim had managed to worm his way into the good graces of the Gardners. "I see you planned all this even before you talked it over with me." How petty and vindictive she sounded. "Suzie wants her family together for her wedding. Is that too much to ask?" It wasn't, and Kate said so, just before the

mingling of voices and the sound of footsteps heralded the return of Belle, Cody, and Suzie.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"What is this for?" Kate looked from the sizeable check she held in her hand toward the tall man who sat across from her. "It's your part of the profit from the calves we sold last week." Hank laid his hat on the couch beside him. "I was riding by and decided to stop and give it to you." He made his stopping sound like an afterthought. Kate wasn't fooled. "I don't want you to give me money." "I'm not giving you a damn thing."

"I won't take it. Apply it to paying for some of the improvements your father put on Paradise." Kate was adamant. "Damn it, Kate, you are one stubborn female." Hank seemed determined that she accept the check. Obstinately, Kate continued, "Mamma told you about Suzie's coming marriage, didn't she? You're giving me this," She waved the check in Hank's direction. "because you think I need it to pay for the wedding." The truth was, she did. "Is Suzie getting married here?" Hank raised a questioning eyebrow. "You know she is, next weekend." Out of the blue, Hank asked, "Would you like to go out with me tonight?" Kate blinked. "What?" Hank smiled, exposing strong white teeth that were vivid against his tan skin. "I'm asking you to

go out with me." Kate wondered if he were trying to distract her. "Why?" His smile vanished. With heavy sarcasm, He replied, "I enjoy your charming company." "You're not funny. Where?" Kate suddenly realized that the idea of going out with Hank appealed to her. "I'm a member of a private club over in Medina County." Hank explained. "We can have a few drinks. They have a band, if you want to dance." She didn't want to appear too anxious. "Is it far away?" "It's a twenty minute drive. I'll pick you up about seven. We can have dinner there." Remembering the exclusive country club she and Jim had belonged to in Dallas, Kate asked, "What should I wear? Is dress formal or informal?"

"Dress is anything you want to wear." Hank was smiling again. "Johnny Blue's is not what you would call an elegant establishment." His spurs jingled as he stood. "I'll see you at seven." Kate followed him to the door. "You said it was a club." She waved the check in his direction. "Take this with you." "Maybe I should have said honkey tonk." Hank didn't bother to stop, or turn. "The money is yours, Kate. Keep it, you earned it." She thought about asking him how. Remembering what had happened at the line shack, made her change her mind. "It's too much." "Be ready." Hank hoisted himself into his saddle. "I don't like to wait." Kate stared after him until he ridden over the rise, and disappeared into the grove of trees beyond. Much to her surprise, Belle didn't pry when Kate announced she was going out with Hank. "Did

you tell Hank that Jim would be here over the weekend?" "I did not!" Kate took a denim skirt from her closet, and held it up. "How is this Mamma?" Tossing the stuffed panda aside, Belle sat on Kate's bed. "Not sexy enough. Why didn't you tell him?" "I'm too old to look sexy." Kate hung the skirt back in the closet. "Why would Hank care if Jim came here?" "No woman is ever too old to look sexy." Belle Punched the panda in its stuffed mid section. "The same reason he got upset when you spent the weekend with York." "Mamma, help me decide what to wear." Kate had other things on her mind. Belle refused to let go. "Are you going to tell Hank?" "Mamma, don't start. Why should I tell Hank?"

"I think you're afraid to tell Hank." Kate spun around. "Mamma, Damn it, I am not!" Belle studied the ceiling carefully before saying. "Don't swear, Kate." Kate stomped toward the door. "I'm going to take a shower." She marched down the hall way thinking that Belle knew exactly how to make her angry, and how to make her think. Maybe she should tell Hank Jim would be at Paradise for Suzie's wedding. Johnny Blue's Club sat just off the highway intersection. Hank was right, it was certainly no country club. The low, rambling wooden structure looked more like a barn than a club. The loud music emanating from inside, could be heard for miles. Hank parked far back on the parking lot. As they were walking across the gravel area. Kate shouted over the music. "Did you say this is a private club?"

"Not the way you are implying. There's a small yearly fee for membership." Hank opened the door. "You won't find the socially elite gathering here." He held the door open. "After you." It took Kate's eyes sometime to adjust to the dark interior. As her view sharpened, she was aghast at what she saw. "This place is a bar." Her mouth fell open. "You brought me to a bar." Hank guided Kate to a table near the back of the long room. "Don't be a snob." Over the raucous music, Kate shouted, "I'm not a snob, but this is not what I was expecting." Hank pulled a chair out from a small table. "Would you like a beer?" "I guess so." Looking around the dark, crowded room, Kate thought how different it was from the elegant River Walk restaurant where York had taken her. Hank sat across from her, signaled a waitress, and

raised two fingers. "Do you come here often?" Kate watched two men rack up pool balls on the table near the door. "Once or twice a week. I can relax here." The waitress put two beers on the table. "Would you care to order now, Hank?" Hank nodded, then took a sip of beer. "I'll have the hot tamales." The waitress stood, pencil poised, pad in hand, waiting for Kate to order. Kate turned the beer bottle around in her hands. "May I see a menu?" "The menu is hot tamales, hamburgers or hot dogs." The waitress stuck the end of her pencil in her mouth. "Which will it be?" Kate thought this was the least likely place to relax she had ever seen. "I'll have a hamburger."

The waitress wrote down the order, then hurried toward the bar. "Some menu!" Kate complained, as she used her forefinger to trace the rings her beer bottle had made on the table. Hank took a long swig of his beer. "Don't you like this place?" "It's different." "That's not what I asked." "Did you bring me over here to pick a fight?" Tension flicked through Kate's chest, slid down her spine. Hank pushed his chair back. "We can fight anywhere. I brought you here to dance." He led her onto the dance floor. "I like the feel of you against me." How perfectly she fit into his arms. How easily she moved with him across the hardwood floor. The feel of his muscular thighs rubbing against her

legs caused a quick surge of desire to flame through her. Remembered ecstasy brought a blush of color to her face. Hank laughed, wickedly. "You're blushing, Kate." She pulled back. "I am not. It's hot in here." "I hadn't noticed." He pulled her back against him. She could feel the hard evidence of his arousal pushing against her. She moved seductively against him. "Hank, I think..." "This is not the time to think, Kate. We have to get out of here before I get arrested and you get...Let's go." "Where are we going?" They were through the door before Hank answered. "Somewhere near. I'll never make it to the line shack."

From the depths of her passion scrambled brain a thought surfaced. She should object. Instead, she amazed herself by pointing to the flashing neon sign above them. "There's a motel behind the club." Without a word, Hank pulled around Johnny Blue's and under the canopy that covered the entrance of the motel office. Sliding from the car, he promised, "I'll be right back." Through dry lips she teased, "Hurry." He did. In less than five minutes he was back, swinging a key around his index finger "Room 16 awaits us." He drove to a room near the back of the motel compound. Neither of them spoke as Hank unlocked the door, and held it open for Kate. Once inside, Kate hooked her shaking thumbs in the pockets of her jeans. "I never did this before, went to a motel with a man, I mean." His gritty voice scraped across her nerve ends as

he pulled her into his arms, and whispered into her hair, "I have to, Kate." She wound her arms around his waist. "I want you to." Kate had always believed that the phrase, 'swept away by passion', was a figure of speech, not a matter of fact. She had been wrong, so very, very, wrong. Her fingertips moved to the top button of Hank's shirt, as he covered her lips with his demanding mouth. She had never known this kind of hunger before. Nothing mattered now except the man who moved his hands over her trembling body. The touch of his mouth on her throat sent a shiver of delight down her spine. The tingle of expectation heightened the joy of undressing him. "I never did this before, either." The confession sounded over the sharp click of his belt buckle. "I never wanted to." He was hard muscle against her skin, the taste of honey on her tongue, and the smell of musk in her

nostrils. The sensations met, mingled, and jumbled, like the patterns in a kaleidoscope, to tilt her senses. They fell, completely bare, and locked in a tight embrace, onto the bed. With smooth, liquid movements, Hank positioned himself over her. "You're a wonder, Kate, a miracle." Entering her body, he began to thrust slowly, and with tantalizing intent. The passion that refused to be denied converged, flowed, and grew. They moved as one rhythmic entity, edging nearer and nearer to complete ecstasy. With consummate abandon, they clung to each other, climbing, reaching, soaring, flying. As absolute rapture caught them, they writhed, twisted, convulsed in the agonized throes of blissful fulfillment. Slowly, with ebbing exhilaration, they drifted back to reality, holding on to passion's afterglow, touching, savoring; hand over hand, mouth against

mouth, body beside body. After a long moment, Hank stirred. "Kate?" She suspected if she moved, she'd melt and run. "Yes?" "You were wonderful." "So were you." Hank pulled a blanket over their nude bodies, then drew Kate very near to him. "Sleep now." Kate woke slowly to see sunlight pouring through the low window. A night light still burned on the table near the door. As she turned her head, she realized it lay on Hank's broad shoulder, with her hair spreading like a flame across his arm. Hank's other arm was thrown carelessly across her bare breasts. She nudged him with her elbow. "Good Lord, Hank, it's morning. Wake up." He opened his eyes and pulled his arm from under Kate's head. "I feel like that Mack truck hit me again."

Kate jumped to her feet. "Mamma must be frantic." Hank rolled over, pulling the blanket with him. "Forget about Mamma." "Will you get out of bed? I have to go home." He held his arms out. "Come back to bed. Check out time here is eleven." Kate bristled. "I won't ask how you know that." He tumbled from the bed and stood before her in all his magnificent nudity. The muscles in his arms rolled as he reached for her. "Don't fight it, Kate. It's bigger than both of us." A note of deadly seriousness lurked behind his bantering tone. "Are you crazy? I have to get home." He pulled her against him. "Please, Katie." She made a halfhearted attempt to escape. "No, Hank."

His grip tightened. "Yes, Kate." "But..." His lips stopped her protest. Her last sane thought was that she was helpless to refuse him anything he might ask. They barely made the checkout deadline. "Mamma has probably called the police by now." Kate handed Hank his comb as she climbed into the car. "By now Mamma knows what happened." Hank put his keys in the ignition. "How could she know?" Maybe Hank was right. "Mamma's not stupid." Over the sound of meshing gears, Kate contended, "I didn't say she was." "Fasten your seat belt, Kate, and don't argue. I'm in no condition to win a fight with you now." Hank pulled the pickup onto the freeway.

They drove down Highway 35 in complete silence. Hank seemed lost in his own private thoughts. There would never be a better time to tell him that Jim would be coming to Suzie's wedding this weekend. "What makes you think Mamma knows we..." She cut her eyes in his direction. "What happened?" "Your mamma is one shrewd lady." "I could tell you something that might change your mind." Looking at Hank's profile, Kate noticed the shadow of a beard growing there. "You need a shave." "I'll shave when I get home. Tell me about Mamma." "She let Suzie talk her into inviting Jim to Paradise for the wedding." Kate felt like a traitor, letting Mamma take the blame for Jim's approaching visit. The tightening of a muscle along his unshaven jaw line was the only sign that Hank might be

upset. "How long has it been since you've seen him?" Kate didn't know if she should be relieved or disappointed. Obviously, Hank didn't care if Jim was coming to Paradise. "Almost two years." "Then there shouldn't be any problem. Time has a way of taking the sting out of personal differences." Hank never took his eyes off the road. She had thought he would be angry, considering his reaction to her spending the weekend with York at Rio Medina. Instead he was indifferent. The answer was not difficult to surmise. Hank didn't care that Kate had been with another man, his concern was that he had been bested by his old rival and enemy, York Taylor. How quickly truth could shatter illusion. "How would you know that? You've never been married." "Observation, and common sense." Hank braked his car. "Open the gate." Why should she feel so hurt and betrayed? Hank

had never expressed more than a casual, purely physical interest in her. And he had been more than honest. He didn't make promises he wouldn't keep. She hurried to open the gate, welcoming a reason to get away. A dozen dissenting thoughts raced through her head as she lifted the latch on the gate, and pushed it open. Past experience had taught her that forever could vanish overnight, and love could fade like a sweet dream of youth. Never again, she vowed, as she closed the gate behind Hank's pickup, would she make the mistake of holding on when she should let go. By the time she got back into the pickup, she had gained control. "Do you think Billy Jack could make my ride tomorrow?" "Sure," Hank agreed, "And the next day, too. That will give you the weekend to be with your family." He stopped his pickup beside the house. "Do you want me to come in with you?" "What ever for?" Kate opened the car door.

"Are you up to facing Mamma alone?" The man was a complete paradox. He was perfectly willing to let her spend a weekend with her ex-husband, and he worried about her confronting Mamma? "I can cope. Mamma's bark is worse than her bite." Seeing Mamma perched on the arm of a chair as she entered the living room made Kate wonder if she had spoken too soon. "Hello, Mamma." "Do I know you?" Belle folded her arms across her chest, and turned her head to one side. "Mamma, don't start." Belle scowled. "You look familiar. But it's been so long since I've seen you." "Mamma, stop it. We're expecting guests, and I have to make my ride today." Kate sat on the couch, and stretched her legs out in front of her. "Why didn't you ask for some time off? Doesn't sleeping with the boss account for anything?"

"Mamma!" Kate swallowed her indignation. "He gave me tomorrow and the next day off." Belle's scowl turned to a grin. "I hope you properly thanked him." She hadn't. "I forgot." "You can find a fitting way to show your gratitude tomorrow when he and Aunt Cat come to the wedding." "I didn't invite them to the wedding, Mamma. I thought about it, but under the circumstances I think only the family should be here." "Not to worry, Katie baby." Belle slid from the arm of the chair. "I invited them." Surprise brought Kate to her feet. "Mamma, you didn't." Belle rounded innocent eyes. "Of course I did." "Why, Mamma?" Then she knew. "You really do

hate Jim, don't you?" "With a passion." It was useless to argue. Mamma had invited Hank and Aunt Cat. There was some small hope that they wouldn't come, but that seemed unlikely. "Mamma, You did this because you knew it would infuriate Jim." "Why should Jim care if your boss comes to your daughter's wedding?" Kate headed for the front door. "Mamma if something happens to spoil Suzie's wedding, I will never forgive you." She kicked the screen open. "I'm going on my ride." "When you get back Suzie and Jim and the Gardners should be here." Time enough to think of that when they put in an appearance, Kate decided, as she hurried toward the barn. The dust stirred by Suzie's low slung sports car as

it pulled into the yard, told her that time was now. Kate's heart leaped into her throat. Bracing herself, she began to walk toward the vehicle. It was like something out of a surrealist dream, seeing after all this time, the man who had been the center of her existence for a quarter of a century. He had changed. His hair was thinner, and feathered with silver. His shoulders were stooped. As he advanced toward her, she saw that crow's feet tracked around the corners of his eyes, lines creased his face. A sorrow, deep and undefined, tightened Kate's chest. She wanted to cry. Jim took a hesitant step in Kate's direction. "Kate?" His voice cracked. What had she opened herself up for? "Hello Jim. Welcome to Paradise." She watched, as moisture gathered in his eyes. "Kate!" His voice was a hoarse whisper. So many emotions met and mingled inside her;

regret, sorrow, pity, and most of all, a sense of irreplaceable loss. Neither of them could find words to say. They stood, staring at each other, as old sorrows throbbed through the awkward silence. Suzie's too bright greeting broke the painful hush. "Mom? We left early. David and Silas will be here soon." "Yes, of course." Kate hugged her daughter. "Where's Grandma?" Suzie asked defensively, as her hand caught Jim's arm. Sudden empathy sprang up between mother and daughter. "She's inside. Don't worry." That was good advice. Kate wished she could take it. A swarm of butterflies fluttered through her stomach as she caught the door, and held it open. "Mamma, Suzie and Jim are here." One quick look at the uncertain man who stepped across the threshold, softened Belle's exacting

gaze, causing Kate and Suzie to draw a simultaneous sight of relief. The shadow of a frown chase itself across Belle's face. "Hello, Jim." After stilted greetings had been said, and a few stiff pleasantries exchanged, Suzie insisted Jim sit down. "You look tired." "Don't fuss, Suzie." But Jim seemed glad for the excuse to rest. "Where is the telephone? I need to call my office." After a short, almost indecent pause, Kate said, "We have no telephone. I'm afraid the nearest one is at the ranch next door." Suzie was quick to offer, "I'll get your cellular phone from the car, but only to call your office and report. You promised, no work over the weekend." "I'll walk with you." Kate gave her mother one last warning glance, as she made a cautious retreat. "I have to make my ride." She felt like a rat deserting a sinking ship, leaving Suzie alone to

cope with Jim and Mamma. Kate found Cody in the barn. "I saddled Ringo for you." "Thanks, Cody." "No problem." Cody hung a coil of rope over the post beside him. "I knew you'd be here soon. I figured Jim showing up would make you run for cover." Kate leaned against the stall and rested her elbows on the top rail. "It was so strange, Cody, seeing Jim again. He's changed. But so have I." "We all do, Kate girl. We go on changing while we stay the same." "I loved him once, Cody, then I hated him, and now all I feel is regret." "Make your ride, Kate." Cody laid a comforting arm around Kate's shoulder. "And don't fret. Things have a way of working themselves out."

Kate made her ride, but the knot of apprehension that had tied itself in her stomach refused to go away. She returned two hours later, to find an expensive RV parked at the end of the house. Silas Gardner was a small, reserved man who gave a solemn nod when David introduced him to Kate. "It was kind of you to let us come to your little ranch for the wedding, Mrs. McClure." "We are happy you could come." Kate lied politely, hating Silas Gardner's condescending attitude. Enduring the coldness of this tacit, aloof man stretched her patience to the limit. She took heart in remembering that in a little more than twenty-four hours he would be gone. For once Belle stayed her demon tongue. She was pleasant and amiable, even to Jim. The evening meal went well. Conversation remained light and impersonal. By the time Belle suggested having coffee and dessert in the living room, Kate had relaxed a little. But it was not until David and Suzie decided to go for a walk, and Jim and Silas

retired to the RV, that she felt her tension abate. "Mamma, bless you for helping me get through this evening." "It was all I could do." Belle wrinkled her nose. "Isn't that Silas something else? And Jim being so nice. Lord have mercy, butter wouldn't melt in his mouth." "He's changed, Mamma." "He's convinced Silas and David that he was the victim in your divorce." Belle jabbed her crochet hook into the yarn she held in her hand. "Sometimes I think Suzie and Michael believe that too." "Everybody's a victim in a divorce, Mamma. There are no winners, just losers." Kate's words brought a smile to Belle's face. "When did you become a philosopher?" "When I stopped feeling sorry for myself." Standing, Kate stretched. "I'm going to sit on the porch and wait for Suzie, Mamma. Do you want

to come along?" "No thanks, Kate. I'm going to bed." Belle motioned to Cody. "And I'm not going alone." Cody folded his paper, and gave Kate a broad wink. "Good night, Kate." Kate sat on the edge of the porch and rested her chin in her hand. As she gazed at the star studded sky, she thought that maybe she had misjudged Suzie's motives for bringing Jim here. Perhaps all Suzie wanted was to know her parents could be friends. "Mom?" Two shadowy figures stood near the corner of the house. "May we join you for a while?" Kate couldn't imagine why two lovers would want to share the night before their wedding with someone else. "If you'd like." Nearness brought recognition, and a little intake of breath. The man with Suzie was not David, but Jim. "Dad couldn't sleep. I suggested we sit with you

for a while." Suzie sat down beside her mother. Still standing, Jim demurred. "We don't want to intrude." "Don't be silly, Dad. Mom's all by herself. How could we intrude?" "You're not intruding." Kate patted the space beside her. "Sit down." Seeing Jim so uncertain sharpened Kate's insecurity. Her heart was host to a horde of conflicting emotions. How many times had she longed for Jim to come to her? He was here, and with his presence came the bittersweet realization, he had come too late. "I was watching the stars." Jim sat beside Suzie, and looked toward Kate. "The view is nice." "Remember, Dad," Suzie laid her hand on her father's knee, "when I was a little girl, and you taught me how to find the North Star and the Big Dipper?" "I remember. You wanted to go there. Explaining

why you couldn't wasn't easy." "I wanted to be an astronaut. Remember, Mom?" Dear God, Kate thought, the last thing she needed now, was a trip down memory lane with Suzie and Jim. "I remember." Suzie sighed. "Michael and I built a cardboard box rocket in the back yard." In the warm dark, Jim's voice was affectionate. "It seems like only yesterday that you were a little girl, and now you are all grown up, and ready to be married." "And so grateful to my parents for giving me such a happy, secure childhood." Suzie said, with deep emotion, then in a much lighter vein, "And now, I have to get my beauty rest. Tomorrow I become a bride. I doubt if I sleep a wink." As the screen door slammed, Kate moved about restlessly, thinking that Suzie must have planned this obvious attempt to bring her parents together. She could have run, made for the house, but she

didn't. This man was still the father of her children. If she intended to be a part of their lives, maybe it would be wise to make some kind of peace with him. "Suzie tells me you have been ill." "I had a heart attack. I'm better now." "That's good." Kate answered in a remote voice. Jim stared up at the stars."Kate?" The ache in his voice was a knife twisting inside her. Staring down at her hands, Kate noticed her fingers were bare, and remembered how she had felt the first time she had taken off the wedding ring she had worn for twenty-five years. "Suzie's David seems very nice." Jim brought his head down, and turned to stare at her. "Suzie told me that the two of you had settled your differences. I'm so glad." All the unspoken heartbreak of Kate's long estrangement with her daughter rose to torment her. "Not all of them, I'm afraid, but we're

working on it." "Kate, I did so much harm. How can I ever make amends?" Here was a man who was obviously suffering deep anguish of the spirit. Nothing would be gained now by recriminations or accusations. "We all made mistakes. But that's in the past, and best forgotten. I hope Suzie can be happy." "I think she will be. David is a fine man." Kate thought, that was exactly what Belle had said about Jim when she told her mother that she and Jim were going to be married. "He seems to care for Suzie." The trauma that hung between them, the memories, the heartbreak, had turned them into polite strangers. Sadly, Kate thought, that was all they could ever be to each other now, polite strangers, skimming the surface of a regret too wide to gauge and too deep to measure. "You know of his former marriage?" Jim asked.

"David you mean?" How formal she sounded, how distant. "Yes, he mentioned it." "Michael said to tell you that he and Sharon are sorry they couldn't make it to the wedding." Jim rested his head against a porch post. "He didn't say why, he just that they wouldn't be here." Kate suspected that Michael refused to come to the wedding because he disapproved of his sister marrying David Gardner. "I know. Michael wrote and explained." After a stretch of silence, Jim closed his eyes. "They grew up so fast. I missed so much of their childhood. I was doing other things. I thought then they were important things. I know now they weren't." "You were a good father." For some unknown reason, Kate wanted to comfort this man who was so obviously living in his own private hell. "You are still a good father. Suzie and Michael both love you very much."

"Do you ever wish you could go back, Kate?" Jim had opened his eyes and was staring at her. "Go back and start over, do it all over again?" It was one of those 'out of the blue' questions that caught her so off guard that she answered with bald honesty. "Not really, do you?" "If I could rewrite the story, I would change the ending. But, yes, I often wish myself back." "You have to let go of that past, Jim, if you ever hope to find a future." How pompous that sounded, how superficial. Laughing in an attempt to lighten the moment, Kate added, "Mamma accuses me of having become a philosopher." "Have you let go of the past, Kate?" Her past was something Kate had no wish to discuss, not with Jim McClure. "It's getting late. I'm tired. I think I'll go to bed." She stood. "Can you find your way to the RV?" "I can manage." Jim caught the porch post and pulled himself to a standing position.

"Good night." Once inside the house, Kate leaned against the door jamb, and drew a ragged breath, then began to feel her way through the dark room, and down the hall. She slipped into her bedroom, hoping as she undressed in the darkness, that Suzie was asleep. The voice from the bed told her she had hoped in vain. "Mom?" Smiling, Kate asked, "You were expecting someone else?" "No." In the dim light Kate saw Suzie sit up in the bed and pull the sheet around her waist. "Is Dad all right." "Why wouldn't he be?" Kate thought, I'm jealous of my daughter and her father. Shame took the edge from her voice. "We were both a little tired. Jim went back to the RV." Suzie sighed. "I worry about him, Mom. He's still not well, and he's so lonely now."

Kate sat on the side of the bed. "It takes time to get over a divorce. It's a shame he couldn't work things out with Lila." Suzie jumped to her feet and reached for the light in one swift movement. "My God, Mom, I hope you didn't say that to Dad." Kate closed her eyes against the sudden brightness. "Suzanne, what I said to your father is none of your business, but no, I didn't." Quickly Suzie came to put her arms around Kate's shoulders. "I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to yell at you." "It's all right." This was not the time for an argument. Kate patted Suzie's arm. "Go to bed, Suzie. We can talk some other time." "Please, may I explain?" "There is nothing to explain, Suzie. It's late. We're both tired. Go to bed."

"Mom, I can't let this go." Tears gathered in the corners of Suzie's eyes. "I can't let anything come between us, ever again." Laying her head on her mother's shoulder, Suzie whispered, "I love you, Mom. I never want to lose you again." Kate brushed her fingers through Suzie's hair. "It's all right, Suzie. You won't lose me, you can't. You will always be my little girl." "Your foolish little girl. I've done so many dumb things, made so many stupid mistakes." The words came tumbling out. "I was so afraid you wouldn't approve of David because he divorced his wife to marry me, just like Dad divorced you to marry Lila." Kate sighed. "My poor baby." "I didn't break up David's marriage, Mom. I promise you I didn't." "I never thought you did, Suzie." As painful as this conversation was, Kate realized for the first time since their violent quarrel two years ago, she and Suzie were communicating, not just saying

polite words to each other. "I thought you might think about what happened to your marriage because of Lila and me, and hate me." Kate held her daughter from her, and looked directly into her tear-filled eyes. "Suzie, neither you nor Lila were responsible for what happened between Jim and me." "Mom, I believed her lies, just like Dad did. She destroyed my family and almost killed my father, and I didn't lift a finger to stop her." "Suzie, you have to forgive yourself, and stop feeling guilty about what happened between your father and me. You can't change what was. Your Grandma says you learn from what happens, then let go." Suzie wiped her hand across her face. "I didn't mean to yell at you about Dad. It wasn't because I thought you would deliberately try to hurt him, it was because he is so vulnerable where you're concerned. You could do terrible things to him,

and not even know." "Go to sleep, Suzie." Kate reached for the light. "Tomorrow is your wedding day. We can't have a puffy eyed bride, now can we?" "No, Mom." Suzie snuggled down into the bed. Kate let her head fall onto her pillow, feeling easier about her relationship with her daughter than she had in a long time. Had she harbored some fear that Suzie didn't love her? That seemed foolish and juvenile. "Suzie?" "Yes, Mom." "I love you, too. You know that, don't you." "I know, Mom, but thanks for telling me." "Mom?" Suzie whispered. Kate rested her head on her pillow. "Yes, Suzie." "Dad doesn't want Lila back."

"You don't know that, Suzie, and you shouldn't interfere." A knot of tension tightened in Kate's stomach. "You and I are no part of your dad's life with Lila," "Are you purposely being blind, Mom, or don't you care about Dad anymore?" How was she supposed to give voice to a question like that? "I will always care about Jim." A truth told with bad intent was better than a lie. "Will you please go to sleep? It's very late." "Good night, Mom." "Good night, Suzie." Kate turned on her side, and closed her eyes.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Belle pulled the veil of her hat down over her face. "How do I look, Kate?" Kate studied her mother's small figure. "Like the matron of honor at your granddaughter's wedding, Mamma." "And you look like the nervous mother of the bride. Will you relax, Kate, and stop worrying?" Belle lifted the window curtain and looked out into the back yard. "Hank and Aunt Cat just arrived." "Mamma, honestly! My only daughter is getting married in a matter of minutes, I have had to be civil to that impossible Silas all morning, The minister was late, I have my ex-husband breathing down my neck, on top of all that, you invite two strangers to the wedding. And you tell me to relax?" Belle smiled, causing her dimples to deepen. "Silas is not so bad. Poor Reverend Thomas got lost. Jim deserves to suffer a little. Suffering strengthens character. And how can you call a man you sleep with a stranger?"

"Sh, Mamma! Silas and Jim are dressing in the other bedroom! Do you want them to hear you?" Kate hurried to close the bedroom door. "You don't want them to know about you and Hank?" Belle glanced in the mirror, and grimaced. "Silas would probably be shocked out of his socks." "Mamma, don't start, not now." "The way you look at Hank, you think they won't know?" Belle reached for her corsage. "Righteous Reverend Thomas will know if he sees you looking at Hank." Belle held out a pin to Kate. "Here, pin this on me." Kate obliged, impaling her mother on a stabbing stare as she fastened the flowers to the shoulder of her dress. "Mamma, for once in your life, will you behave? I have enough to think about without worrying about you." "Did Jim ask you to come back to him?"

"Mamma, for heaven's sake. He did not!" "Well, that's a relief." Belle moved toward the back door as the strains of a taped wedding march floated through the air. Feeling as if she might explode at any minute, Kate followed. In the shifting patterns of sunlight through the trees, Kate watched David and Suzie exchange vows. 'Til death do us part'. From lowered lashes, she stole a glance in Hank's direction, and her heart beat a little faster. Hank entertained no illusions about forever. "No promises," he had told her in the very beginning. She pulled her eyes back to the couple who stood before the flower banked altar. Maybe Hank was only being realistic. What had the bard of long ago said? 'This above all to thine own self be true'. Maybe that would be easier if she knew what the truth was. Once more, she looked in Hank's direction. His eyes caught and held hers. He smiled, a smile so seductive, so provocatively promising that she blushed, as a surge of passion

wept through her. By the time Kate had collected her wits, and calmed her racing pulses, the ceremony was over, and the bride and groom were surrounded by the tiny group of well wishers. It was with a sense ofdeja vu that Kate watched the newlyweds drive away in David's Cadillac. Kate had planned a small reception. But immediately after slicing the cake and drinking one toast, David had insisted that he and Suzie must leave now if they wanted to arrive in Galveston before dark. As the dust cleared away, Kate thought if she could get Jim and Silas out of her house, and out of her hair, and see Reverend Thomas and his wife out the gate, then she would concentrate on getting rid of Hank and Aunt Cat. At Belle's behest, the guests remained, wandering back to the oak trees where they sipped punch and ate from the buffet Belle had prepared. They chatted amiably, looking at ease and comfortable, to the last person.

How could they? When Kate had a coiled spring inside her stomach that might, at any moment, unwind, and cause her to fly into a million pieces. She had little choice but to play the gracious hostess. She wondered why Mamma had instigated this little social event. She could think of no good reason. A deep voice intruded into her thoughts. "Punch?" Kate turned to see Hank standing beside her, holding a glass in each hand. She took one of the glasses. "Thanks." She had a sudden urge to lay her head on his chest, and ask him to take her to the line shack. His wicked grin told her he had read her thoughts. "Let's go for a ride." "I can't leave now." He didn't touch her, didn't even move closer, but she felt his caress. "Later?"

"I can't. I have to stay until Silas and Jim leave." "Ah, Jim." Hank took a sip of punch. "I met him." "I'm sure Mamma saw to that." They walked toward a bench near the windmill. Kate sat down on the hard boards, and Hank eased himself down beside her. "No, as a matter of fact, I introduced myself." Kate could think of no reply to that. Staring up at the windmill, she asked, "Can you grease that contraption? It squeaks and keeps me awake at night." "He's not what I expected." Hank admitted, on a sigh. She was not going to discuss her ex husband with her...Her mind faltered, unwilling to label her relationship with Hank. "He can't keep his eyes off you, Kate."

"Are you going to oil that windmill?" Kate put her empty punch glass on the ground beneath the bench. "I'd have to climb up on the platform." Hank lifted his head, and scanned the turning blades. "Did Jim ask you to come back to Dallas with him?" "My Lord, You're worse than Mamma. That's none of your business." Kate glanced toward the group of people clustered under the trees, to see if anyone was looking their way. "Why would you have to climb to the platform?" "I think it is some of my business. You signed a five-year contract with me. I don't want you running back to Dallas and leaving me in the lurch." He put his arm along the back of the bench. "The gear box is up there." "Up where?" Kate could feel her body respond to his nearness. "Up there on the platform of the windmill." Hank

waved an exasperated hand toward the steel tower. "What the hell have we been talking about?" Indignation stiffened her backbone. "You were prying into my personal life, that's what we were talking about." "I am looking after my business interests. I don't give a damn about your personal life." The absence of anger in his reply stung far more than the words he spoke. "You can put your mind to rest. Jim didn't ask me to come back to him." Kate stood, and began to walk toward the trees. Hank fell in step with her. "Damn it all, you are one touchy female. What have I done now?" She refused to look his way. "Nothing." He caught her arm. "Then what the hell is wrong?" Automatically, Kate admonished, "Don't swear."

She stared down at his hand on her arm. "Will you let me go?" He loosened his grip. "Don't forget you have a ride to make tomorrow." He hurried toward the bench where Aunt Cat sat talking to Belle and Silas. She was becoming far too involved with Hank Sinclair. Her rebellious body already desired him with a craving that bordered on addiction, and in a moment of treacherous truth, she admitted to herself, that she could, so easily, fall in love with him. And all he was concerned about was his business investment. As Jim hurried toward her, other emotions assailed her. She would never consider going back to Jim. Then why did she feel rejected because he hadn't asked her to return? She was like a child who didn't want to go to a party, then pouted because she didn't get an invitation. "Kate?" Jim's voice was solicitous. "Are you crying?"

"I'm the mother of the bride. That's my privilege." His look said he didn't believe her. "I thought perhaps Mr. Sinclair said something to offend you." "We were discussing the windmill. It needs to be oiled." "I see." Jim fell in step beside her. "From what I was observing the conversation seemed to be of a more personal nature." "Hank has to climb up to the top of the windmill to oil it. He's not happy about that." Kate set her course for Mamma, thinking Jim would stop short of that destination. She was right. Jim paused as he neared Cody. "Cody is going to show me his pigs. Would you like to come along, Kate?" Kate wouldn't, and she said so. Somehow Kate managed to get through the

remainder of the day without snapping at Silas, or finding herself alone with Jim. By nightfall she was a basket case. Thank God Silas and Jim would be going back to Dallas early in the morning, Silas in his luxurious RV, and Jim driving Suzie's little sports car. Kate had thought that after such a long, arduous day, she would not be able to sleep. She was wrong, she slept like a baby all through the night. But not until the next morning, after the RV had rumbled through the gate, and the back lights of Suzie's car had disappeared down the road, did Kate draw a deep, easy breath. "Gone at last," She told Belle, who stood beside her on the porch, watching the disappearing vehicles. "And without Jim saying a word about you coming to live in Dallas?" A frown puckered Belle's forehead. "I would have sworn..." "Don't swear, Mamma." The knot of uneasiness she had lived with for the last three days was slowly untying, leaving Kate feeling empty and strangely deflated. "Jim doesn't want me in

Dallas. That was a ploy he used to get back into his children's good graces." Belle's frown deteriorated to a scowl. "Kate, sometimes you are just plain stupid." "Mamma, honestly!" "Not stupid as in dumb but stupid as in dense." "There's a difference?" Kate questioned. "You can't see the forest for the trees." Belle held the screen door open. Kate was not up to a conversation with Mamma, not on the heels of her long weekend. "I'm going to the barn and saddle Ringo. The last thing I need is Hank on my case because I didn't make my ride and my report." She bounded down the steps. "And you want some time alone," Belle called after her, as Kate trotted down the trail toward the barn.

Kate was winded by the time she reached the barn. She leaned against the tack room door, and pulled air into her aching lungs. She was coming from the tack room, carrying Ringo's saddle when a voice called to her. "Kate?" Dropping the saddle over the top rail of Ringo's stall, Kate turned, knowing even as she pivoted on the heel of her boot, that it was Jim who had spoken her name. The tone and timbre of that one word brought back a host of nostalgic memories. "I thought you were gone." The gaunt features of the man standing in the entrance way told her that his coming here in this manner was the act of desperation. "I was. I came back." Holding up both hands, he pleaded, "Don't run away, Kate" His voice cracked, then revived. "I have to talk to you." She wondered where he thought she would go. He was standing between her and the door. "About what?"

"Can we sit down?" He began to sidestep toward the bales of hay that were stacked in the corner. "There?" "There is nothing left to say." Kate didn't move. "I have work to do." Jim eased down onto a bale of hay. "Please, Kate, just a few minutes. I can't leave without saying this. I thought I could, but I find I can't." "Without saying what?" She took a step toward him. "I'm rather pressed for time." "Don't look so distraught. I am not going to hurt you again, ever." He pulled a straw from the hay and stuck it in his mouth. "Can we talk?" "Is it about the children?" He could still hurt her if he did something to hurt Suzie or Michael. Given his present disturbed frame of mind, she thought he might be capable of doing just that. "It's not about the children." Moisture glistened in the corners of his eyes. "It's about us -- you and me."

In that defiant, challenging moment, Kate realized that fate was a remorseless avenger, turning tables and twisting destinies with reckless abandon. "You and I belong to yesterday. We are a part of the dead past, Jim." "Do you want me to beg?" His brows drew together in an agonized expression. "I will." It seemed absurd that he should be reduced to begging. "Of course not." She perched on a hay bale across from him, thinking as she did so, that hehad changed. The old Jim would never have humbled himself enough to beg for anything. "Please don't be angry with me, Kate." His voice was low and pleading. "I'm not angry, I'm surprised. I didn't expect to see you again." Jim swallowed, painfully. "I was going to wait, bide my time, try to show you how sorry I am for the way I have treated you. Then I saw you with that muscle bound cowboy, and I knew I didn't

dare." A smothering pain constricted Kate's chest. "You mean Hank?" He stretched his lips into a sad, resigned mockery of a smile. "How many muscle bound cowboys do you know? Is it already too late, Kate? " She was tempted to spare him. "Jim..." The lie died in her throat. "Yes." Lifting his head, he stared at the barn rafters. "Are you in love with him?" "I don't know." A faint smile touched her lips. "Maybe." "The way he touched you, so possessively." His voice cracked. "You've let him make love to you, haven't you?" She was set to tell that what she did was not his concern. Raising her eyes to his stricken face, she saw pain so profound that she dropped her head and stared at the toe of her boot that was kicking

at the loose hay on the floor. "Does it matter?" "That depends on how far it's gone. I could forgive you anything, Kate, if I could have you back with me." He could forgive her? She wanted to laugh, and to cry. From the depths of her own anguish, she mumbled, "Even my inadequacies in bed?" His head snapped back as if she had struck him. "I will go to my grave regretting those words, Kate." "Regret is all we have left, Jim," That careless taunt had almost destroyed her. "and it's not enough." He stood, and pushed shaky hands into his pockets. "I didn't mean all those cruel things I said, Kate, you must know that." "It doesn't matter anymore." Rising, she turned toward Ringo's stall. "Good-bye Jim." "I can't say goodbye this way." The anguish in his

voice tore at her heart. "Please, Kate hear me out." She faced him, and thought she had never seen him so shaken. For some reason she couldn't fathom, his meekness aroused a deep sense of pity. "There is nothing left to say." He slumped back down onto the hay. "I've changed, Kate." "People don't change basically, Jim. They resolve, then keep on resolving, again and again, but they go on being the same person they started out to be." "If you will give me another chance, things will be different. I know now that I have only begun to measure the magnitude of what I've lost." "I can't go back to my old life, Jim. My place is here now." The tears in her eyes blurred her vision. She blinked. "You must accept that." "Kate, dear Kate." He made no attempt to hide his tears. "I won't give up. I can't. I'm still in love

with you. I know you must find that difficult to believe, but it's true. May I come back to visit you again?" The lump in her throat had reached gigantic proportions. "No. I'm sorry, but no." "I want to make amends. I want to begin again. Please, Kate..." His voice trailed away on the end of a muffled sob. "I have been a complete fool." She knew what that admission must have cost him. That knowledge made her reply all the more agonizing. "It would never work. I don't love you, Jim, and I never could again." The pain of saying those words was almost physical. "You did love me once, you could learn to again." She had to make him understand. "I could never trust you again, Jim. Without trust there is no love." One hand moved through his thinning hair. "One indiscretion in twenty-five years? And God how

I've paid for that, how I'm still paying." Kate refrained from telling him that for her, his affair with Lila was much more than an indiscretion, it had been a soul-shattering calamity. She wondered why his misery should cause her such distress. The vengeful words she could have spoken turned to ashes in her mouth. Softly she assured him. "It's going to be all right." He blurted out, "Nothing will ever be all right again! You must know Lila meant nothing to me. I had a case of middle-age crazies." He struggled to bring his emotions under control. "I shouldn't even mention her name in your presence. I'm sorry." Nothing short of bald honesty would suffice now. "Jim, you and I both know Lila didn't destroy our marriage. We did that all by ourselves." Dropping his head, he stared at the dirt floor. "Put the blame where it belongs. I destroyed our marriage." "No, Jim, we're both responsible. We can't go

back, and our futures are in different directions. It's over, Jim. Try to accept that, and go on with your life." "It will never be over for me, Kate. I will always be in love with you. Maybe someday, you'll change your mind." Her answer at once elated and saddened her. "There is no someday for us, Jim, and no maybe for me. Any love I had for you died a long time ago." Unashamedly he brushed tears from his eyes. "This is what I deserve, what I expected. But I had hoped..." After a pause, he found his voice. "If you won't come back and be my wife will you accept the money I offered you?" Gently she told him. "I don't need your money, Jim." "In all honesty, it's your money too. Take it. Use it to repair the house you live in. Put a bathroom inside. Get a telephone."

"No, Jim." As she shook her head in negation, her hand reached out to him. "All I want from you is your friendship." "That's more than I deserve." Ignoring her hand, he pulled her into his arms. "You will always be a part of me, Kate. I will always hold your memory in my heart." She didn't try to break the embrace. Standing in the circle of his arms, old memories, old sorrows swamped her. "Good-bye, Jim." He held her from him. "Goodbye, my love. I hope you find happiness. You deserve it." Through a distortion of tears she watched him disappear through the barn door, his shoulders slumped in dejection. Falling down on the hay, she burst into an agony of tears. The sound of her own lament almost drowned out the roar of Suzie's powerful sports car as it pulled away. After a few anguished moments, Kate sat up, and

wiped her sleeve across her face, as she sought to separate and understand the many clashing emotions that banged around inside her. She began to saddle Ringo. As she worked, completely absorbed in her task, she felt a weight lift from her shoulders. After all this time, she had closed the book on her life with Jim. That bittersweet realization brought a deep sigh. "It's over Ringo, after all this time, it's finally over." She patted the horse's neck. "Where do I go from here?" Lifting herself into the saddle, she gave Ringo a gentle kick in his flanks, and pointed him toward the line shack. The morning breeze blew across her face and lifted her hair. Somewhere in the clump of mesquites and palo verdes, a mocking bird was tossing his lilting song skyward. The cacti were in bloom, flaunting their magnificent colors of pearly yellow and iridescent red. Against the backdrop of verdant green that spread out across the rolling countryside, each bloom shone like an opalescent jewel.

A feeling of euphoria bubbled up inside Kate. After all this time, she was free. It had been a long uphill battle, but now she knew her life belonged to Kate McClure, and no one else. It was a joyous, but brief, disclosure. That momentary buoyancy of spirit was replaced by a seizure of despondency. She was also alone. That revelation left her feeling isolated and detached. Michael and Suzie had their own families now, and she could expect to be only a small part of their lives. With a degree of bitterness, she wondered if loneliness was the price of freedom. Kate had never been afraid of the future before. Now, quite suddenly, she was. She possessed all this magnificent liberty, and she had not the slightest idea what to do with it. "I'll think of something," she told Ringo, "I will definitely think of something." As she rode past the line shack, Kate stretched her neck hoping she might see Diablo tied in

front. She was reluctant to admit her disappointment when he wasn't there. The remainder of her ride was not nearly so enjoyable, but she made her appointed rounds, then turned Ringo in the direction of Circle S. As she neared the bunkhouse, she found herself hoping Hank would be there. He wasn't. Instead she found Jake leaning against the side of the long, low structure, spitting tobacco juice, and whittling on a stick. "Hi, Jake." Kate waved a greeting. She wanted to ask where Hank was, but decided that she shouldn't. "Hello, Kate, everything all right today?" Jake closed his knife by pressing it against his leg. Kate slid from the saddle. "Everything looks good." "Hank told me to wait for you here. He says you can make your ride twice a week now that calving season is over."

That news should have been cause for elation. It wasn't. "Are you sure?" "That's what the boss man said." Jake spit a long stream of tobacco juice onto the dusty ground. "And the mood he's been in for the last little while, I sure ain't about to argue with him." Jake added under his breath, "About nothing." Kate should have mounted Ringo and ridden away. Instead she asked, "How is Aunt Cat?" "Sassy as ever." Jake inclined his head in the direction of the rambling ranch house. "Why don't you go up and set a spell? She'd be glad to see you." Kate startled herself by replying, "I think I will." She tied Ringo beside the watering trough, and walked the short distance to the house, not allowing herself to examine her motives for making this unscheduled call. A bright smile spread across Aunt Cat's face

when she opened the door to see Kate standing on the other side. "What a nice surprise. Come in, Kate. I was about to have a cup of tea. You can join me." Kate followed Aunt Cat into the living room. "I made my ride early today. I had a little extra time, so I thought I'd visit for a while." "I'm so glad you did." Aunt Cat motioned for Kate to sit down, then sank into the huge couch that seemed to swallow her up in its vastness. "How are Belle and Cody?" "Recovering." Kate laughed. "We had quite a weekend." "Oh, the wedding was lovely." Aunt Cat offered Kate a cup of tea. "Your daughter was such a radiant bride." Kate tasted her tea. "Of course, I thought so." Aunt Cat took a delicate sip from the dainty china cup that had been poised near her lips, then set it on the low table in front of her. "I do

believe the old adage that says all brides are beautiful, is true. Don't you?" Kate agreed. "I never saw an unattractive bride." Kate stretched the conversation out as long as she dared, talking of everything from trivial incidents to world events, even the weather, before telling Aunt Cat that she must go. As Aunt Cat accompanied Kate to the door, the insistent ringing of the telephone caused the old lady to excuse herself, and retrace her steps. From the living room, bits of conversation drifted into the foyer, and invaded Kate's anxious ear. "Yes?" Like so many elderly people, Aunt Cat shouted into the receiver. "Henry's not here." After a lengthy pause, Aunt Cat shouted again. "He left last night around seven." Then after a shorter interval, "He didn't say." Kate strained to hear every tiny nuance of sound. Thinking as she listened so intently, that Hank had

been out all night. She didn't want to imagine where he might have been, who he had been with, or what he might have done. Aunt Cat was shouting once more. "No, Gina called. Why don't you call over there? Do you have that number?" The answer to Aunt Cat's last question must have been yes, for before Kate could collect her scattered wits and still her racing heart, the elderly woman had hung up the telephone, and returned to say her belated goodbyes. "Come again soon," she called after Kate who was making a speedy get away. "I will." Kate tossed the words over her shoulder as she raced for the watering trough, and Ringo. Kate turned Ringo toward Paradise. She couldn't shake the dust of Circle S from her feet fast enough. She had ridden a good mile before she slowed Ringo to a walk, and gave him his head. Ringo knew the way home, and that's where he would

go. Why was she so hurt, and so surprised? Hank had never lied to her. He had told her, even before she became involved with him, that he was having an affair, of sorts, with Gina. The sun had climbed high into the clear blue sky, and was beating down unmercifully. Kate had the inane thought that if Hank was with her, he could tell her what time it was just by looking at the sky. She wondered, as she rode, if she had been so inadequate as a woman, and as a lover, that Hank wanted Gina also? A frightening assortment of doubts rose up to assail her, each uncertainty feeding on the other, until she put her hands over her ears, and cried out in pain. Her pathetic lament echoed across the open spaces, and with the sound of her own voice ringing in her ears, came a settled knowledge, she would not, could not, endure again the kind of trauma that had marked her break with Jim. This time she would take matters into her own hands.

But how? Should she deliver an ultimatum, and tell Hank to choose between her and Gina? Suppose he chose Gina? And why wouldn't he? She was younger, prettier, and probably better in bed. A cold shudder ran through Kate's body, causing her to shiver in the intense heat. Could she endure another rejection? She knew the answer to that. It was an irrevocable no. Jim's betrayal had left her with scars that were as permanent as they were invisible. To be spurned a second time would destroy her. That left her only one choice. She had to break off with Hank. Their brief, lovely affair was over. She must accept that. How easy that was to say, but it was torment to contemplate. It would be torture to abide by that decision. She had already let him become a very important part of her life. What a fool she was. Once should have taught her that she could not compete against a younger woman. Obviously, it had not. She had been stupid enough to fall into the same snare again.

Only this time experience had schooled her in the impossibility of winning against such a rival. She wouldn't hold on, or beg, or strive to prevail, she would cut and run while she still had a measure of pride and an iota of self respect left. Ringo was almost to the barn before Kate realized she was home. She led him inside, unsaddled him, rubbed him down, and put away her saddle. As she worked the words of Aunt Cat's telephone conversation kept playing over and over in her head, like a broken record. Fragments of her conversation with Jim had taken their place by the time she opened the back door. Belle was sitting at the table, drinking coffee and reading a paperback novel. "Hi, Mamma." Kate reached for a cheerfulness she never quite achieved. Belle waved her hand toward the stove. "Coffee's on the back burner."

Kate poured her coffee and sat down across from Belle. After scanning several pages, Belle laid the book on the table. "I had to get my heroine out of a terrible mess." "Where's Cody?" Kate looked around the kitchen. "He went to a livestock auction over in Pleasanton." "And you didn't go with him?" "He went with York Taylor. The man came by to see you, I think. He was going to an auction, and he invited Cody to go along." Belle pushed her half empty coffee cup back. "What did Jim want?" No one could ever accuse Belle of being subtle. Kate puffed out an exasperated breath. "How did you know?" "Cody went to the barn. He saw Suzie's car."

Belle could be merciless. "That man reminds me of an egg-sucking hound dog, making everybody think he was gone, then slipping back when no one was watching." "He wanted to talk to me." Kate turned the paperback around to face her. "What are you reading, Mamma?" "Don't try to change the subject. I am reading that." Belle tapped the open book with her forefinger. "What did Jim want?" There would be no stopping Mamma until Kate related what had happened with Jim. "He wanted me to come back to Dallas." Kate poured cream into her coffee. "Jim has changed, Mamma." "Like a leopard changes his spots." Belle's eyes slitted. "Are you going?" "No, Mamma, never." "You told him that?" Surprise made Belle's voice brisk.

"Yes, Mamma, I told him." "I imagine that went over like a lead balloon. What other tricks did he try?" Belle's perceptive abilities constantly amazed Kate. "I don't know what you mean." Kate tried to avoid Belle's steady stare. "I must read this." She fingered the book nervously. "Don't lose my place, Kate, and don't try to avoid answering. Jim didn't give up just like that." Belle cracked the air with the snapping of her fingers. "He wants you back, and I know he didn't just walk away when you said no." Pulling the book from Kate's fidgeting fingers, she asked. "Did the bastard offer you money again?" Belle's use of what she considered profanity told of her abiding hate for Jim McClure. "I'm glad he didn't wrap you around his little finger again." "He did want to give me money. He wanted to come back to Paradise to visit. He wants me to marry him again."

"Oh, does he?" Belle raised a skeptical eyebrow. "And you, Kate?" Her voice softened. "What do you want?" "What I can't have, as usual. But it's not Jim McClure." It felt so good to say those words, and to mean them. "So you finally left Jim." Mamma, I left Jim three years ago." "He threw you out three years ago. You left him this morning." It was typical Belle reasoning, missing the outer circle of logic, and hitting the bull's eye of truth. "And it feels so good." Kate turned Belle's book around. "Who wrote this?" Belle grabbed for her novel. "Whatdo you want this time that you can't have?" Laying her book in her lap, she complained, "Now I've lost my place." She demanded, as she ran her fingers through the pages, "What, Kate?"

"It was a figure of speech Mamma." "A figure of speech named Hank Sinclair?" "Mamma, don't start." Kate pled fatigue, and escaped to her room where she stretched out across her bed, and fell asleep. She was awakened an hour later by Belle calling her name. The moment Kate stepped through the living room door, York rose to greet her. "Kate, so good to see you. I was waiting for you to awaken." Cody and Belle sat side by side, on the couch, looking too smug. "You were?" Caution edged Kate's voice. Cody laid his hand on Belle's arm, as she opened her mouth to speak. Too hastily, he said, "York has invited us to attend a Cattleman's Association meeting." His grip on Belle's arm was an attempt to silence her, no doubt. "Isn't that nice of him?"

Belle lifted Cody's fingers from her arm. "York wants to sponsor us as new members." The words were laced with sarcasm. Kate cringed inwardly, expecting some caustic barb or overt innuendo to follow Belle's cynical announcement. None was forthcoming. Perching one the arm of the overstuffed chair, she tried to smile. "That's kind of you. When?" "Next Friday. I thought we could drive over to St. Agnes." York spread his hands in an expressive gesture. "I would like to take you to dinner also. There's a nice restaurant in Saint Agnes, far out on Grant street. After dinner we can drive on over to Jourdanton to the meeting." For reasons known only to herself, Belle suddenly decided to do a complete about-face. "Why don't you stay for supper? You can tell us more about the Cattlemans' Association." "I don't think..." York began, only to be interrupted by Cody. "You don't want to pass up one of Belle's good

meals. She makes biscuits that melt in your mouth." With an uncomfortable shrug and a nod, York accepted the invitation. Belle moved in the direction of the kitchen. "I'm going to make those biscuits now." "I'll help." Cody followed along behind her, adding, as he passed Kate, "You stay here Kate, and keep York company." Kate slid into the chair. "You've made Mamma and Cody very happy." York hesitated, measuring Kate for a moment with his eyes. "And you, Kate?" "And me?" Her mind was exploring disquieting possibilities. "What about me?" "Did I make you happy?" There was an unfamiliar note of humility in his voice. "I hope I did."

Kate smiled to hide her confusion. "Yes." "Yes, what?" York prompted, then without giving her time to reply, asked, "May I speak frankly?" "I think that would be a good idea." He tented his fingers, and watched them as they seemed to move of their own volition. "I wanted to say this to you before now, but I thought I should wait until after you saw your daughter safely married." He ran an agitated hand through his hair. "I'm doing this all wrong." Gently Kate urged, "Just say it. I'm listening." "I'm a very old-fashioned man. I spoke to your mother and Cody earlier." "That's what you want to tell me?" She found his shyness appealing. A twitch pulled one side of his mouth upward. "No."

"Then what?" "If I were twenty, I'd say, will you go steady with me?" I'm over fifty, so I'll ask if I can court you with serious intentions." Her first impulse was to ask for some time to think. "You talked to Mamma and Cody? What did you say to them?" "That I want to keep company with you, and that my intentions are strictly honorable. That I would be pleased if they would chaperon the first official date of our courtship." His smile was sweet and beguiling. The smile, more than his words caused Kate to reconsider. She would be out of her mind to turn down such a sincere request. "I can't promise..." "I'm not asking for promises, just an opportunity to woo and win you." What did she have to lose? "We can try it and see."

Coming swiftly across the room, York took her in his arms, and kissed her on the lips. "Thank you, Kate. Now you have made me very happy." Kate touched her fingers to her lips, then let them trail down her throat, as she searched for some reaction other than a mild sense of pleasure at being held. It wasn't there. The magic that stirred her to a flame of passion by a touch seemed to belong peculiarly to Hank Sinclair. She took York by the hand. "Let's go to the kitchen." She'd be a fool all over again if she passed up the opportunity to have a man like York around. He couldn't give her ecstasy, but he did offer commitment and marriage. Sometimes life made no sense at all.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Kate sat beside York in his plush automobile, and stared out the window, watching the fence posts become an uneven blur as the car gained speed. "Is everything all right back there?" York called to Belle and Cody, who were securely settled in the back seat. "Everything is great, "Cody chuckled. "I never rode in a Chrysler New Yorker before. This could get to be habit forming." "It's the top of the line," York answered, "and way ahead of second best." "And you?" York turned his attention toward Kate. "Are you comfortable?" "Oh, yes, very. Thank you." Why did his solicitous attitude annoy her? Belle asked, "Is your seat belt fastened, Kate?" "It's fastened, Mamma, and my door's locked." A

yawn caught Kate, causing her to place the back of her hand over her mouth. "Are you tired?" York aimed a fleeting glance in her direction. Bored would have been a more accurate definition. "No." She should be enjoying this evening. All she could summon up was a desire for it to be over. "The restaurant in St. Agnes is a land mark," York told them. "It has been an inn since the eighteen fifties when it was a stop for stagecoaches." Kate wanted to ask, who cares? Instead she murmured, "How interesting." The raucous sights and sounds of Johnny Blue's flashed through her mind. "I have made quite a study of stagecoach routes through Texas. Do you know the history of the old San Diego Mail Route? It's most interesting." York launched into a lengthy narrative.

Kate laid her head against the back of the seat. From nowhere came the remembrance of how Hank's rough hands felt sliding down her back and caressing her buttocks. His lovemaking was like an addiction. Silently she congratulated herself on stopping before she became hopelessly hooked. She pulled her thoughts back to York and his recitation of dry facts in time to say, "That's interesting," and hope it was a suitable answer. The restaurant in St. Agnes was rustic and picturesque, with heavy oak furniture and a wild array of cattle brands burned randomly into three of the four wood paneled walls. Cody and Belle spent much of their time during dinner discussing the brands, and the deer, elk, and bear heads that were mounted on the fourth wall. "Look at that." Cody pointed to the head of a magnificent animal mounted over the fireplace at the end of the dining room. "That's a royal elk, for sure." "What," Kate asked between bites, "is a royal elk?"

"It has to do with the points on his rack." Cody pointed his fork toward the mounted head. "His rack?" Kate questioned. Laughing, York explained, "His horns, Kate." "Sixteen points makes him a royal elk," Cody explained. Kate reasoned she could add that fact to the list of useless trivia she had already garnered this night, then chiding herself for being so petty and mean spirited, replied, "How interesting." Cody and York were too engrossed in the conversation to notice Kate's ill temper, but Belle sent her a look that was just short of murderous. Kate's reply was to poke her tongue out at her mother, then quickly draw it in, and look around to see if anyone else had seen her childish display. The food was delicious, from the well prepared steak to the jalapeno cornbread and banana

pudding. Cody and Belle were obviously having a grand time. Kate redoubled her efforts to at least appear to be enjoying herself. The drive from St. Agnes to Jourdanton seemed endless. As they walked from the car to the meeting hall, Belle pulled Kate to a stop, and whispered, "What is wrong with you?" Kate scowled at her mother. "Nothing." Turning, York asked, "Is there a problem?" "No problem," Kate scowled a second warning in her mother's direction. The meeting hall teamed with people. Most of them were huddled in noisy little groups laughing and talking in friendly, familiar fashion. A few lone souls languished against the walls, or stood around the bar. York's entrance brought respectful greetings from those standing near the doorway. He began to

introduce Kate, Belle, and Cody. He bearing was one of a man of position and power. Even though he received an enormous amount of deference and a grudging respect, it was patently obvious that he was not on a friendly basis with anyone present. After a few introductions, Cody recognized an old friend at the other end of the hall. "There's Mr. Havel. I worked for him three years ago." With the promise that they would return before the meeting convened, Cody led Belle away. With York holding fast to her arm, Kate began to make her way through the crowded hall, nodding, murmuring greetings, wondering as she went, how one short evening could stretch into an eternity. From behind her a voice said, "Hello, Kate." The hair on Kate's neck rose. Without turning, she replied, "Hello, Hank." "Sinclair." York dropped Kate's arm, and turned to face Hank. "To what do we owe the honor of your presence?" "I belong to this association, Taylor."

Kate began to turn, then stopped, She was caught on the keen edge between joy and despair; not wanting to meet those burning green eyes, and at the same time hungry, starving to gaze into them. "How's Aunt Ca..." Kate's question dwindled into a tiny gasp as she turned to see Gina standing beside Hank, holding onto his arm. "Hello, Kate." She flashed Kate a dazzling smile. "So nice to see you again." "Aunt Cat's not feeling too well." Hank's intimidating stare was unnerving. "She said you came to call. Sorry I missed you." Remembering what Hank was doing that caused him to be absent that day sent a bolt of jealously ripping through Kate. "I had to make my report, I had some extra time, so I stopped." Why, she wondered, did she feel she had to explain a neighborly visit? "I hope you come back soon. Aunt Cat enjoys your company."

York interrupted to explain, "Belle and Cody are here somewhere. I'm sponsoring them as new members." He put a possessive arm around Kate's shoulders. "And Kate too, of course." Unwelcome scenes flashed through Kate's mind, like clips from an old movie, frame by frame, they appeared: Hank holding her in his arms, caressing her body, sending her into a frenzy of ecstasy. Hank's body pressing down on hers, sated and still, his breath coming in gulping gasps, Hank holding her in his arms, telling her how wonderful she was, as the warm afterglow of love surrounded them. And all the while he had been making love to Gina too. That knowledge was almost too painful to bear. Putting her arm around York's waist, she said, "Isn't that thoughtful of York?" Hank's mouth pulled into a grim line. "I'll send someone over to grease that windmill." Taking Gina's arm, he hurried away without so much as a good-bye. Gina waved over her shoulder as she and Hank began to snake their way through the crowd.

"What got into him?" York asked, relief mixing with surprise to give his voice a higher pitch. Kate shrugged. "Who knows?" She watched Hank until the top of his silver head was no longer visible, her heart feeling a little heavier with each retreating step he took. She wanted to run after him, take him in her arms, and hold him and love him forever. He wanted her when it was convenient, or when Gina wasn't available. The one thing she couldn't do was share Hank with another woman. Closing her eyes, she struggled to control her emotions. "My Dear, are you all right?" York's concern sounded in her ears. She might never be all right again. The deepest hurt sprang from the knowledge that Hank didn't even know he had hurt her. To him she had been no more than another available female. A scene from another time and another place, long laid to rest, resurrected itself, like some malicious apparition. Her own words came back

to haunt her."Please, Jim, don't send me away. I love you. I'll do anything, only please, please, let me stay." Even now those words caused her to pale and swallow again. Never again, never, ever again would she subject herself to that kind of humiliation. The evening changed after that, from being a bore to being an ordeal. It seemed to go on forever. Kate wanted to escape, to find a dark corner, and cry until there were no more tears to shed. Hank was here with Gina. He would take her home and then...Kate deliberately made her mind a blank. The remainder of the evening she was numb, moving talking, smiling, and feeling nothing but a dull ache around her heart. "Kate." Belle was shaking Kate's shoulder. "Will you wake up from your daydream? It's time to go. Cody and York are waiting for us." "Daydream?" She was in the throes of a nightmare. "Come on, Kate." Belle was urging Kate toward the door. "The meeting is over."

Kate trailed along after her mother. "I'm coming, Mamma. I'm coming." She scanned the room, looking for some sign of Hank, and found none. Getting home, saying good night, promising to go out with York the next Sunday, finding her room, tumbling into bed, all were enacted in a haze of emotional paralysis. Once in bed, Kate found that the tears she had promised herself she would shed had dried into an arid dust of emptiness. "It's better this way," she whispered to herself. "If I don't feel, I can't hurt." She wondered if it was permissible for a cattle rancher to count sheep. Counting didn't help. Sleep was a long time finding her. Kate woke with a dull headache and a bad taste in her mouth. She dressed, wondering as she slipped into her jeans, if it was possible to have an emotional hangover, and decided after she had swallowed two Tylenol and a tall glass of water, that it was. Coming into the kitchen, Kate poured herself a

cup of coffee, and sat down at the table. Belle and Cody were nowhere in sight, but Lady lay curled up near the door, telling Kate that Cody would return soon. "Good morning, Lady." Kate lifted her coffee cup in a salute. At the sound of her name, Lady's tail thumped the floor as she laid her ears back against her furry head. "What do you have to smile about?" Lady's answer was more tail wagging, and a wide yawn. "Don't talk back to me." "Lady giving you a bad time?" As Cody came through the back door, Lady bounded to meet him. "We were having a discussion." "Maybe you were giving Lady a bad time." Cody raised his voice to be heard over the running

water as he washed his hands at the sink. "You want more coffee?" "Please." Kate pushed her cup toward the edge of the table. "Is your Mamma still in bed?" Cody filled Kate's cup. "Mamma is still in bed?" Astonishment sharpened Kate's inquiry. "What happened?" Cody poured a second cup with coffee, and carried it to the table. "Too much night life, I suppose." He pulled up a chair and sat across from Kate. "She was sleeping when I got up this morning." "I'm glad she's resting. Mamma's not as young as she used to be." A wry smile caused Cody's whiskers to twitch. "You'd better not let her hear you say that." Kate's cup halted in mid air. "Sometimes I forget Mamma is not invincible. She's a very remarkable

woman." "Well, I know that. That's why I hung onto her once I found her." "Love at first sight? " Kate put her cup on the table. "It was, and don't laugh. It can happen to anybody. You fall," Cody snapped his fingers, causing Lady to raise her head and wag her tail. "just like that." "Not everybody, Cody. Some men are immune to love." "Just men, Kate?" Cody raised a bushy eyebrow. "What about women?" Kate thought for a minute before answering. "I don't know about women. I do know about men." "Are you talking about Jim?" "No, I think Jim loved me once." Jim had only recently declared his undying love. Kate decided

not to think about that. "Are you still in love with him?" Cody watched Kate's face with guarded interest. Kate thought awhile before answering. "Not anymore."After more thought, she said, "Somewhere along the way, my love for Jim died a slow, agonizing death." A frown pulled lines in her forehead. "It's disconcerting to realize you can fall out of love." "And a little scary." Cody added. "That too."A quick sip of coffee eased the catch in Kate's throat. Cody reached to pat Lady's head. "I'm not your Daddy, Kate, but if you want to talk to me like I was, it's all right." The tears Kate had searched for last night sprang, unbidden, into her eyes. "I'm beginning to see why Mamma fell in love with you." "I'm the lucky one, Kate. Your mamma gives my

life meaning." "I do need to talk, Cody. Maybe a man's perspective will help." Cody chuckled as he pulled at his beard. "I'm not promising a miracle, Kate, just a listening ear, and my best advice." "In strictest confidence?" Kate pushed her cup back, and rested her elbows on the table. "Sorry, Kate. I don't have any secrets from Belle, and I never intend to have." With a wave of her hand, Kate dismissed that statement. "Mamma doesn't count. Everybody else does." "Then shoot." Kate put her chin in her hands. "York wants to marry me. He hasn't said that yet, but those are his intentions." "He said as much to your mamma and me. He quite a catch, Kate."

"I know. But I can't marry him." Kate had not admitted that, even to herself, before now. "Why don't you ask yourself why? Then give yourself an honest answer?" "I can ask. I'm not sure I know the answer." Kate dropped her hands to her lap. Cody's voice was low. "I think you do, Kate." "He'd bore me to death?" Kate joked to keep from voicing the painful truth. Cody laughed, "That's a fact." Then sobered suddenly. "But that's not the reason you won't marry him." "No. It's not. I can't marry York for the same reason I couldn't reconcile with Jim. I don't love him." "Well, we finally got to part of the truth." "What is wrong with me, Cody?" Kate ran both hands along the sides of her face. "I have two

eligible men who want me, and I find I don't want either of them." "I guess the important question now iswhy don't you want either of them." "I'm not in love with either of them. It's as simple as that." "No, it's not, Kate. You haven't lied to yourself, but you haven't told all the truth, either." "How do you know that?" His amazing ability to read her thoughts made Kate bristle. "I'm not blind, Kate, and I'm not senile." Cody moved his thumb and forefinger along his mustache. "It's Hank, isn't it?" Kate's defenses crumbled. "Is it that obvious?" "Like your mamma says, Kate, you have a transparent face." "Do you think he knows?" Reaching across the table, Kate grasp Cody's hand. "I don't want him

to know, not ever!" "Don't get upset, Kate. I won't tell him. I promised, remember?" Kate let out a long breath. "Thank you, Cody." "Why don't you want him to know, Kate?"' "Because it would embarrass him." Kate closed her eyes against the pain. "He doesn't feel the same way about me. He's involved with another woman." "That doesn't sound like the Hank I know." Cody's voice took on strident tones. "Did he tell you this?" Painfully, Kate whispered, "Yes, he did." "Maybe you misunderstood." Kate's pain mixed with a resigned sadness. "He told me he was involved with Gina the day we went to draw up the partnership papers, and I don't see any sign that says that has changed over

the past few months. He was with her last night." "That may not mean a thing." Cody offered, hopefully. "Don't defend him, Cody. we both know it does." Little bursts of agony shot through Kate as she whispered. "He went from her arms to mine, then back to hers again. I've lived through that kind of hell before, but never will I subject myself to it again." She clamped down on her bottom lip. "With me it has to be all or nothing." "So what will you do?" "Nothing. Do nothing, say nothing, expect nothing. It's better that way." Cody's silver eyes glistened. "If I can do something, you will tell me, won't you?" "Thank you, Cody, but there is nothing that can be done." "What are you two gossiping about?" Belle stood in the doorway, tying an apron around her skinny

middle. "Lord, why didn't somebody wake me up?" "Coffee's on the stove." Cody waved his hand in that direction. "Nobody made breakfast, I see." Belle moved across the floor in quick strides. "Do you still want biscuits?" "That's what I'm waiting for. Now that my wife has decided to get out of bed. I just about have time to feed the animals before my biscuits are ready." Cody crossed the room and put his arms around Belle. "Do I get a good morning kiss?" Standing on tiptoe, Belle let her lips brush across one side of his whiskered face. "That's a kiss?" Cody pulled Belle to him he kissed her soundly. Raising his head, he chuckled, "That's a kiss." With Lady following at his heels, Cody stepped

through the back door, leaving Belle staring after him, and smiling. As she surveyed Kate's dejected figure, Belle's smile to changed to a frown. "You look awful." "Mamma, honestly!" "Bad night, Kate?" Belle took a bowl from the cabinet. "I slept well, Mamma." Kate lied through her teeth. "That's good to know." Belle dumped flour into the bowl. "Knowing you slept well will make my day." Kate changed the subject. "Don't you ever measure anything Mamma? How do you know how much of anything you have in anything if you don't measure anything?" "I measure everything," Belle insisted. "I take a pinch of salt and a daub of baking powder." She threw the named ingredients into the bowl. "Now

I need a glob of shortening." She cut a knife through the can of shortening beside her, then used her fingers to dump the greasy mass atop the other ingredients. "You don't have to have a cup or a spoon to measure." "Mamma, what kind of logic is that?" Kate was taking her frustrations out on her mother, even though she knew she shouldn't. "Spoons and cups are instruments to assure accuracy." Making a wry face, Kate asserted, "A handful of this and pinch of that is not measuring, it's guessing." "Lord, you did have a bad night." Belle began to knead the biscuit dough with one hand, as she slowly added milk with the other. "So what are you going to do now?" "About what?" Immediately, Kate's defenses went up. "Turn the oven on, Kate." Belle raked dough from her fingers. "About Hank." Kate rose to do her mother's biding. "Mamma, don't start." She adjusted the thermostat. "How

many degrees? "Around four hundred. Are you going to let him get away?" "Mamma, can you give me an exact temperature? What is this 'around four hundred' ?" Kate stood and glared at her mother. "Do you want me to lasso and hog-tie him, Mamma?" Pinching dough off in little balls, Belle patted each ball into a round biscuit, and crowded it into a pan. "You could fight for him, instead of giving up before you even try." Kate sat back down at the table and slumped in her chair. "I tried fighting for a man once, Mamma, and failed, miserably." "You can have Jim back, if you want him. That doesn't sound like you failed." "Damn it, Mamma, I don't want Jim back. And Jim wanting me back doesn't mean I didn't fail. I

couldn't keep my own husband." Belle pushed the pan of biscuits into the oven, then wiped her hands on her apron. "Now you know all the mistakesnot to make. And don't swear, it's not lady-like." "Mamma," Exasperation caused Kate to raise both hands, then let them fall into her lap. "Don't start. I'm not up to this." "You could marry York." Belle put her hand over her mouth to stifle a little snicker. "He's told Cody and me how he plans to 'woo and win' you." "That's nothing to joke about Mamma. Marriage is serious business." "Would I joke about you and York?" Belle's eyes rounded in an innocent stare. "No, never. Are you thinking about taking that declaration seriously." Wearily, Kate replied, "I am not going to marry York Taylor. Can we drop the subject?" "Good idea," Belle agreed, too readily. "Let's

forget about York and concentrate on how you can make Hank forget that two-bit floozie who was hanging onto him last night." "Mamma, stop it. I know what you're trying to do, and it won't work." "I'm trying to help my only daughter." "You're trying to make me fighting mad. You think then I'll try to compete with Gina for Hank's fleeting affection." "Gina doesn't have anything you don't have, Kate." Belle's illogical logic took over. "Except cleavage and experience. And either of those in excess is too much." "Yes, she does. She has youth." Kate shivered at the pain of remembering. "I can't do it, Mamma. I have some pride." "That's all you're ever going to have if you don't wake up and learn that maturity can be an advantage, not a handicap."

"Mamma," Kate spat the words out in distinct little syllables, "butt out." Belle had no intention of doing any such thing. "Let's talk strategy. Hank was not happy about seeing you with York last night. That's a good start, Kate." "Mamma." Arguing was useless, but habit was strong. "Hank was there with Gina. How can you..." A thin thread of suspicion wove it's way into Kate's brain. "Mamma, is that why you were so nice to York, why you agreed to go out with him? Did you go to all that trouble, endure that miserable evening because you entertained some slim hope that Hank would see me with York and be jealous?" "And he did, and he was," Belle announced, smugly. "No, Mamma, he wasn't. Not of me, anyway. Hank and York are arch rivals. They have been since high school days. Hank doesn't like the idea of York spending time with his employee."

"Phooey," Belle sniffed the air. "My biscuits are done." She hurried toward the oven. "Get some butter out of the refrigerator." Belle set the pan of hot biscuits on the top of the stove. "And get that jar of strawberry jelly." "I don't have a prayer with Hank. Neither does any other woman, for any length of time. He's a maverick, Mamma." Kate rummaged around in the refrigerator until she found the jelly. From the back door, Cody called, as Lady bounded into the kitchen, "Belle, Hank's out here. I asked him to come in, but he says he doesn't have time. Why don't you bring him a cup of coffee?" Kate wanted to crawl into the refrigerator and hide. Instead she straightened and found the butter, then balanced it in one hand and jelly in the other. "I'm busy. Kate can bring it." Belle set an iron skillet on the front burner of the stove. "What is Hank doing that's so important?"

"He's here to grease the windmill. He says Kate keeps complaining about how it squeaks." Kate pushed the refrigerator door shut with her backside. "I did not complain. I just commented on how that contraption sounds." Belle and Cody exchanged silent, knowing glances. "I did not complain," Kate insisted again, "I didn't." Cody closed the screen. "Those biscuits do smell good." "Sit down." Belle was carrying the biscuits to the table. "Let me get you some coffee, then I'll make some eggs." Kate set the butter and jelly down on the table. "I did not complain." "Those biscuits look good, too." Cody began to split biscuits open and put butter inside. "After breakfast we can go see the new litter of pigs that

were born last night. They are cute little things." Belle broke eggs into a bowl. "That's a good idea. I have to see to my chickens anyway." They were ignoring Kate. "Doesn't anybody believe me?" "Is the wind blowing outside?" a crooked little smile tugged at Cody's mouth as he shoved half a biscuit into it. Belle put on her most innocent face. "I do believe it is." She set the skillet off the burner. "As soon as we do the rest of the chores, I'm going to drive over to St. Agnes for some feed." Cody spread generous amounts of jelly over a biscuit. "Would you like to ride with me, Belle darlin'?" "Sure," Belle heaped scrambled eggs into a platter. "I need to go to St. Agnes," Kate interposed. "Would you mind if I rode..."

Cody gave Belle a broad wink. "The wind's getting louder, don't you think?" "Maybe a storm is brewing," Belle sat down beside her husband. "And poor Hank is out there, all alone, with no coffee." "And him about to climb up that tall tower." Cody cut his eyes in Kate's direction. "That's a dangerous job. That cold wind could blow him right off that little platform." Fear replaced Kate's aggravation. "Hank's going to climb that tower? He said he'd send somebody." "I believe the wind's changed directions." Belle took a buttered biscuit from Cody's plate. "It not so cold anymore, either," Cody added, with a smile. Kate knew when she was beaten. "All right, damn it, I'll take Hank a cup of coffee." By now her fear of Hank climbing the windmill tower had

overridden her determination not to run outside the minute she knew he was there. Reflexively, Belle chided, "Don't swear, Kate." Holding a cup of coffee in one hand, Kate and opened the back door with the other. Just before she stepped outside, she gave Belle and Cody a scathing glace, then told Lady, "You should watch the company you keep." Mamma alone was impossible, Mamma and Cody together were unbearable. Once outside, Kate's heart jumped into her throat. Hank had climbed the tower, and removed the cover of the gear box behind the blades of the windmill. One hand held to the arms of the fan as the other poured oil into the box. Kate froze where she stood. She wanted to call to him to come down immediately. She didn't dare. If he turned, he might fall. She imagined him lying at the foot of the tall tower, cold and lifeless, that vital, strong heart stilled eternally, that powerful body cold and motionless forever. Her heart spasmed inside her. In that revealing

moment, the truth hit her like a kick in the head. she had fallen in love with Hank Sinclair, hopelessly, and irrevocably. What ever he was, what ever he did, she loved him. That revelation sent a cold shiver through her. Kate held the warm coffee cup against her breast. Mamma had said to fight for him. She couldn't. What if she lost again? Another rejection would destroy her. She stood transfixed, as Hank placed the cover on the gear box, and screwed it in place. Then, without turning, he backed to the ladder, and began his downward climb. With each descending step, Kate breathed a little easier. But it was not until he had set both boots on the hard ground under the tower, that she felt the constriction in her chest loosen, and the knot in her stomach untie. She called his name, and he turned. "Where did you come from?" He seemed angry and aggravated that she was there. "I brought you coffee." Kate set the cup on the

bench under the oak trees. "You'd better drink it before it gets cold." "That squeak should stop now, for awhile." He was walking toward her. She knew she should run for the safety of the house. Instead she stood staring at him, her mouth dry, her heart racing. "You said you'd send someone." Even in her own ears, her words sounded trite and unsure. "Why didn't you?" "You think I can't grease a windmill?" Hank took a sip of coffee. "This stuff is cold." He spat the coffee on the ground. "Is this the best you can do?" He was deliberately being disagreeable. She could think of no reason he should be so hostile. She had neither the energy nor the inclination to fight with him. "I can warm it." Tilting the cup, Hank poured the coffee onto the hard ground. The dry dust licked it up as it fell. "I'd like to wash up, I have grease on my hands."

His matter-of-fact tone left her cold. "Do you want to come inside? Cody said you were busy." Hank fell in step with her. "I am busy. I have a ranch to run, which reminds me, Have you been making your ride?" Was he afraid she would forget he was her employer? "You know I have. I report to Jake every Tuesday and Friday." She quickened her step to stay up with him. "The rides needn't be scheduled. You can make them anytime during the week." As they neared the house, he slowed his steps. "Did you enjoy the cattlemen's meeting?" His swift change of pace and subject tilted her balance. "I-I prefer a schedule. I'm very organized." She stopped, then slowed her steps to his rhythm. "The meeting was enlightening." The sound of the screen door opening was lost in the roar of Cody's pickup as it sped toward the gate. Mamma and Cody had gone to St. Agnes. So that was why they were so determined to send her

outside. They had deserted her, run out, left her alone. No, they left her with Hank, and it had been a deliberate abandonment. She would deal with those two later. "Would you like to come in?" Hank followed her into the kitchen, then set his cup on the table and tossed his hat on a chair. "I need to wash up." Kate nodded toward the sink. "Go ahead." Kate poured coffee into cups, then carried them to the table. She could feel the tension between them rise and crackle. After drying his hands on the towel that hung beside the sink, Hank sat down at the table. Kate edged her way to a chair across from him. "It's hot." He took a cautious sip. "Yeah." Kate drummed her fingers on the table. "It was enlightening. The meeting, I mean."

"So you said." Kate ran her fingers around the top of her cup. "It's a nice day, don't you think?" "Not in particular." Hank sounded, for all the world, the way Jim had sounded at the onset of his affair with Lila, guilty, defensive, and wanting out. Kate cleared her throat. "The meeting made me see how little I know about ranching. I have a lot to learn." "Do you now?" Those blunt words carried a sharp, piercing edge. Hank's anger, for whatever reason, showed no sign of going away. Kate bridled her rising antagonism. "Maybe you could give me some other tasks to do, now that I ride only twice a week. Something that would help me learn more about the ranching business." Perhaps the assurance that she thought of him only as an employer would appease his hostility.

Hank tilted his chair back. "I thought you might be planning to go back to Dallas." Was he afraid she would try to renege on her contract with him? That would explain his anger. "I'm not going back to Dallas, not now, not ever." He set his coffee cup down, hard. "I thought what's-his-name wanted you to come back to him." "His name is Jim. He did ask me to marry him again. I said no. So you can stop worrying about our agreement. I intend to keep my end of the bargain." "I didn't think you'd have the guts to refuse the guy. Not when Jim and both your children want you back." "It doesn't take guts to avoid falling into the same trap twice." Maybe Hank had given her the opening she needed to reassure him that she had no designs on him. "I want no more commitments or permanent relationships." The words splintered in her mouth, as she watched and waited, hoping

against hope that Hank would argue with her about the wisdom of such a decision. For one wild moment, she thought he might. A fleeting fancy chased itself across her imagination, the picture of Hank taking her in his arms, and telling her that he loved her. The dream was short lived. Hank asked, "So you've decided to play the field?" Her answer had just enough verve to give it credibility. "Yes." He studied her flushed face. "Is this your perverted way of telling me you've been sleeping with York, or Jim." His pause was deadly, his voice lethal, "Or both?" She was appalled that he would assume such an untruth. "Who are you to sit in judgment on me?" The quiver in her reply was hidden by a little laugh. "You're the one who taught me the therapeutic benefits of sex. And you did say no promises, no commitments. Why should you be surprised that I see the wisdom of your ways?"

He kicked the chair to one side as he stood and stared down at her. "That's not what I said, and you know it." "Yes, you did," she argued."That day in the line shack, you said you didn't make promises or commitments." "I said I didn't make promises or commitments that I couldn't keep. There's a difference Kate, and you damn well know it!" Anger glittered in the depths of his eyes. "Then maybe I should make my position perfectly clear." Kate met his wrathful stare. "I don't want to make promises or commitments ever again." He closed his eyes as if in pain. "So it was all an act?" "What was an act? I don't understand." She coughed, as the last gulp of cold coffee strangled her. What could be going through his mind to cause him to make such an accusation. "Now I think you owe me an explanation."

"I don't owe you a damn thing." He was walking toward the door. "I'll get Jake to assign you some tasks." Something inside Kate screamed, "Stop him, tell him he's wrong. don't let it end like this." With all the strength she possessed, she pushed those feelings down, stilled the silent, screaming voice inside her. "I'll talk to him Tuesday." With the slam of the screen door, came the torrent of tears. But there was comfort, too, a distorted consolation that assured her she had done the only thing she could do. She didn't fight the pain, didn't avoid the agony of defeat that swept over her. Better to embrace suffering now, and then begin the healing process. She couldn't bear to drag the misery out into endless days and timeless nights, then face the final torment of living with total loss. "Lament, Kate," she told herself. "Weep until there are no more tears to cry."

CHAPTER NINETEEN

There had been a river of tears, and still they came. Kate pulled her dress over her head and braced herself for another wave of anguish. Even the admonition that it took time for wounds to heal didn't seem to help. Belle had been strangely silent since her return from St. Agnes the day before. Kate had expected a million questions. Instead, Belle took one look at Kate's swollen eyes and haggard face, and said, "You blew it." Kate's, "Don't start, Mamma," had effectively silenced Belle. Even Cody was careful to keep conversation light and general, talking about his pigs, the weather, and lauding Belle's excellent culinary

abilities. Kate closed her mind to remembering as she applied makeup carefully, trying to cover the ravages of too many tears and too little sleep. Narrowing her eyes at the reflection in the mirror, she studied her face carefully. "How could you have been such a fool?" she asked the reflection that stared back at her. "Wasn't once enough?" A tap on her door caused Kate to turn. "Mamma?" Belle poked her head around the corner. "Were you expecting someone else?" "No, Mamma. Come in." Kate fastened her pearls around her neck, and stepped back for one final inspection. "How do I look?" Belle's eyes traveled down her daughter's slim form. "You look beautiful. It's how you feel that has me worried." Her look sharpened. "York's here." "Already?" Kate glanced at the clock on her

night stand. "He's early." Belle came to stand just inside the door. "Where are you and lover boy going?" Kate had no idea. She had not thought to ask. "I don't know." She knew Belle was trying to shake her out of her apathy. "To dinner somewhere." "I'll tell him you'll be right out." Belle tugged at the door. "Try not to get too excited." "Mamma, don't..." Kate was talking to the wall. Belle had disappeared behind the closing door. Kate dragged her feet down the hall. Why had she agreed to go out with York again? It was the last thing she wanted to do. As she emerged from the hall, York stood. "You look lovely." His eyes glowed with pleasure. How Kate wished that she could feel something more than a friendly affection for this man. "Thank you." They were in the car, and driving toward the gate

before Kate asked, "Where are we going?" "Where would you like to go?" His indulgent tone added to her unrest. Kate shrugged her indifference. "It doesn't matter. You choose." Staring out the window, she thought that the feathery blooms of the mesquite trees looked like little green caterpillars. "We could drive to San Antonio, for dinner and dancing, if you'd like." York braked the car in front of the gate. "I would like that very much." She wasn't apt to see Hank in an expensive restaurant in San Antonio. His taste ran to cheap bars and First Monday sales. As Kate reached for the door handle. York objected. "I can open the gate. You stay where you are." "I don't mind," Kate protested. "You look far too lovely to be opening gates and

walking through brush." York was already opening his door. Kate relaxed against the back of her seat, and smiled. She tried to visualize those thoughtful words coming from Hank's mouth. It occurred to her that Hank had never taken her anywhere that would give her cause to wear her best dress and heels. As York slid back into the car to drive through the gate, Kate focused her full attention on the tall man beside her, and silently promised herself she would not think of Hank for the remainder of the night. It was an empty promise, and a futile endeavor. Through the long evening, her own senses conspired with poignant memories to betray her. The oak trees that waved to her from the side of the road were so like the oak trees that grew, tall and stately, around the line shack. She turned her eyes away. "It's a lovely evening." They were nearing San Antonio when a pickup pulled out from a side road, and roared down the

highway directly in front of them. It was a battered Chevrolet with wire cutters and a post hole digger in the back. York gunned his Chrysler, and sped around the truck. "Some drivers are so rude." The restaurant was expensive and elegant. As York conversed with the head waiter, Kate scanned the dimly lighted room. Suddenly, her searching eyes stopped on a handsome stranger who stood near the bar. He was tall and muscular, with broad shoulders, and a slim waist. A shaft of light falling across his rugged features, stirred to recollection the way the light from the line shack window played across Hank's rugged countenance as he lay beside her. She deliberately willed her mind to stop prying into scenes from the past. Kate was in York's arms on the dance floor when she heard it, that faint, jingling sound like spurs signaling an approaching cowboy. She turned, half expecting to see Hank bearing down on her. He was nowhere in sight. Instead, before her was a dance floor crowded with polite, elegantly dressed couples. Sighing, she asked, "Can we sit down?"

The evening wore on. Just when Kate had decided it might never end, York drank the last swallow of the wine in his glass, then asked, "You look a little weary. Would you like to go home?" Kate nodded. "Yes, please." They were driving down a wide city street before she spoke again. "It looks like rain." York kept his eyes on the road. "We need rain." Kate searched for something to say that would pass for polite conversation. She wished she could tell York that she had enjoyed the evening. She couldn't bring herself to lie. God forbid that she should blurt out the boring truth. York broke the heavy silence. "You're very quiet." "I was thinking that I will have so much to tell Mamma tomorrow." York frowned. "I know you are very fond of

your mother, but I hope you are selective." Surprise caused Kate's head to swivel in his direction. "Selective? About what?" York cleared his throat. "I hope you don't discuss our intimate moments with Belle." This evening had been about as intimate as a public forum. "I'm more than just fond of my mother." For the first time during the long evening, a genuine smile lit Kate's face. "I love her very much." York pulled his Buick onto the freeway. "How do you feel about Cody?" She wondered why he would ask such a thing. "I'm very fond of Cody. Why?" The lights from a passing car danced across the dashboard, illuminating York's scowling face. "How does Belle feel about me?" The question came as a surprise. "I -- we've never discussed that, specifically." Kate consoled herself

with the thought that she as telling only a half-lie. The brightness vanished as the passing car raced by. In the dim glow of the dash lights, Kate could discern the grim set of York's jaw. "She doesn't like me. Hopefully, that will change after we are married." His words hit Kate like a kick in the head. One eyebrow shot up in disbelief. "After we're married?" "Yes. I plan to renovate your old ranch house. I'm sure your mother and Cody will want to continue to live there. I thought perhaps that generous gesture, along with a new pickup for Cody might change Belle's opinion of me." Kate couldn't believe what she was hearing. He sounded exactly like Jim, trying to buy his way into her affections. "The ranch belongs to Mamma. Aren't you taking an awful lot for granted?" "I don't think so." York pushed the accelerator down, and sped around the car that had just

passed them. "I will take the reins of your finances, once I am a member of your family. I'm highly qualified, you know." Kate could imagine Belle's reaction tothat declaration. "Mamma may have other ideas." "Sooner or later, your mother will come around." "And what about me?" Turning in her seat, Kate studied York's determined profile. "You will soon see what a shrewd business man your husband is." The tense lines in York's face relaxed. "I will take very good care of you, Kate." "I think I missed something," Kate replied, on the cutting edge of exasperation. "Aren't you a little premature? I don't remember you asking me to marry you." "I assured you my intentions were honorable." Lines of puzzlement creased York's brow. "I assumed you knew that meant marriage." In the semi-darkness, Kate studied the bare third

finger of her left hand. "Why do you want to marry me, York?" "I am attracted to you. You would fit quite comfortably into my life style. Harriet likes you. You're very pretty." He gazed briefly in her direction. "Is that enough, or do you want to hear more?" "No, York, that's more than enough." Kate watched the passing signs that announced they were nearing the freeway exit to Paradise. They rode for several miles in silence. Kate leaned against the upholstery. Its leathery scent reminded her of Hank. "York?" "Yes, my dear?" He was braking the car in front of the gate to Paradise. "I can't marry you." Before he could answer, Kate darted from the car and toward the gate, her slight figure making strange shadows as she stepped through the bright beam of the car's headlights. She took her time opening the gate, then patiently stood, with her hand on the metal

fastener, waiting for York to drive through. The heavy automobile shot through the gate like a speeding bullet, and came to a grinding halt on the other side. Kate got back into the car to face the inevitable. "I'm sorry," she whispered, as she fastened her seat belt. "Sorry?" York's voice was heavy with disbelief. "You led me on, Kate. Why?" He gunned the car and raced toward the house. "I didn't lead you on. You assumed too much." Her mouth pulled into a tight line. "I don't love you. I can't marry a man I don't love." He slowed the car to a stop. "You could learn to love me. I could teach you." That was an echo of what Jim had said to her that day in the barn. Should she try to explain that love was not a taught emotion? York would never understand, "You don't love me either."

"I do. In my own way, I do." York ran his hand across the back of his neck. "Love does not comprise my entire existence, but you would occupy a very important place in my life." "I'm honored that you would ask, but the answer is no." She opened the car door. "Can we be friends?" His stiff reply gave lie to his condescending words. "If you wish. Goodnight, Kate." "Good-bye, York." Kate closed the door. As she pulled the screen door open, the car roared away in a cloud of dust and the smell of burning tires. Kate thought that having to open the gate to Paradise, drive through, then close it again, was good enough for the likes of York Taylor. Without turning on a light, she felt her way down the hall and into the welcome confines of her room. After undressing in the dark, Kate pulled her

gown over her head, then lay down, too weary to think or feel. Holding onto the memory of Hank's arms around her, she fell asleep. "Kate?" Belle stood in the doorway, a cup of coffee in one hand, and a glass of orange juice in the other. "So you finally decided to open your eyes." She set the coffee on the night stand, and handed Kate the glass of orange juice. "It's about time." Kate propped a pillow behind her head. "Were you waiting for me to wake up?" She glanced at the clock. "It's nine o'clock in the morning." "I've been waiting for you to open your eyes." Belle sat on the edge of the bed. "I hope they are open now." "Mamma, it's too early in the morning for riddles." Kate sipped the orange juice. "So don't start." "You know what I mean, Kate. If you don't want to talk about it, I can respect that, but don't try to tell me you didn't give York the boot last night."

That thought made Belle smile. "You're right, Mamma." Kate used the back of her hand to push her hair from her face. "How did you know?" "My lord, the way he roared out of here? He drove away like the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels." Belle pulled one foot up under her. "I knew then you must have told him to get lost." Kate set her glass on the night stand, and stared straight ahead. "He isn't very well equipped to handle rejection. He was angry." "York?" Belle raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. "That solid pillar of the community, was angry?" Belle leaned toward Kate. "You didn't do something foolish, did you?" "That depends on what you call foolish. If wounding York's pride is foolish, I was foolish. He asked me, no he assumed, that I was going to marry him. When I told him I had no intention of doing any such thing, he was more than a little upset. He'll recover. He has an enormous ego and

no small amount of self-conceit." Belle slapped the bed with her open hand. "I knew sooner or later your eyes would be opened." "Oh, Mamma, you didn't think I'd get involved with York, did you?" "Knowing the way you feel about Hank, I didn't see how you could." Kate swallowed the tears that gathered in the back of her throat. "I can't get involved with Hank, either, Mamma." "You're already involved with Hank, Kate. You're in love with him. Do you want to talk about it?" Kate's chin lifted. Such a direct approach from Belle startled her. "No -- yes. Mamma, I'm too old to be this confused." Belle laid a gentle hand on her daughter's arm. "Katie, baby, confusion comes with maturity. Only the very young are sure of everything.

Fortunately, the ability to solve problems seems to sharpen with age and experience." Kate studied the coffee in her half empty cup. "I don't think Hank will be back. He accused me of sleeping with Jim or York, or both. I didn't deny it." A tear splashed into the coffee. "He's still seeing Gina. Why should he be so angry with me for seeing other men?" "How do you know he's still seeing Gina?" Belle playfully slapped Kate's arm before she let her hands fall into her lap. "He was with her at the cattlemen's meeting." That memory made Kate wince. "And you were with York." Belle reminded Kate. "Does that mean you're sleeping with him?" "That's not all." Slowly, because speaking the words was so painful, Kate told her mother of the conversation she had heard Aunt Cat have over the telephone the day she had stopped to at Circle S to visit. Wiping at a stray tear, Kate concluded, "So now you know how I know."

"You convicted the man without a hearing?" Belle's eyes flashed with condemnation. "That's circumstantial evidence." "Why wouldn't he prefer Gina? She's younger and prettier, and she is happy with a temporary arrangement." "Then you have nothing to worry about?" Belle moved around on the bed. "Give me one of those pillows, Kate" Kate pitched a pillow toward her mother. "What do you mean, I have nothing to worry about?" Belle adjusted the pillow behind her back. "That's better." "Mamma!" "If the arrangement is only temporary, you can wait around until it's over, then move in, if you aren't too old to be interested by then." Belle shifted her shoulders to fit the pillow. "And if the temporary doesn't become permanent, while you

sit around and wait." A nameless fear grabbed Kate. "Hank doesn't believe in commitments, or making promises he won't keep. He wouldn't do that, would he?" "Do you want to take that chance?" The answer to that was easy, she didn't. "No." Kate paused, "But I don't want just an affair, either." "Sometimes when you can't have what you want, you take what you can get." Belle's grave face and somber tone told of her deep concern. "But you have to be willing to pay the price." "I don't know if I can survive another rejection." "I wish you could have known Grandma Donovan." Belle smoothed her hands over the legs of her jeans. "She could have told you about this woman she knew once." "Mamma, honestly," In her agitation, Kate forgot her own dilemma. "I'm baring my soul to you, and

you want to talk about someone my great-grandmother knew a hundred years ago." Ignoring Kate's outburst, Belle went on. "It seems this woman was thrown from a horse. Then that nasty critter tried to step on her. She just missed getting trampled right into the ground." With a resigned sigh, Kate leaned back on her pillow. "So what, Mamma?" "So she never would ride a horse again. A lot of people tried to tell her that all horses weren't alike, but she wouldn't listen. Grandma Donovan said you always take the chance of being thrown when you ride a horse, but sometimes the ride is worth the spill." A slow smile replaced Kate's scowl. "I see what you mean, Mamma." "Well, it's about time." Standing, Belle gathered the glass and cup from Kate's night stand. "I'm going to the kitchen to make Cody an apple pie for lunch." Kate jumped from the bed, and began to push her legs into her jeans. "I'll help you. Then I think I'll

ride over and visit Aunt Cat." The more Kate thought about riding to see Aunt Cat, the more the idea appealed to her. At the same time, nagging doubts assailed. What if Hank wasn't there? What if he refused to talk to her? Or worse yet, what if he had decided to make his arrangement with Gina permanent? That thought was more frightening than she cared to admit, even to herself. After lunch, Kate began to stack dishes. By now she was reduced to counting the minutes until she could saddle Ringo, and ride to Circle S. From the sink, Belle spoke over her shoulder. "Get out of here, Kate." "But Mamma..." Kate argued, reflexively. Cody laid his fork across his plate. "Go, Kate. I'll help your mamma with the dishes." That was all the encouragement Kate needed. She raced for the barn, and Ringo.

The nearer she got to the Circle S ranch house, the more apprehensive Kate became. She leaned to whisper in Ringo's ear, "Maybe I should go home. What do you think?" Ringo's answer was a gentle toss of his head, and a quickened step. "You're right. I can't turn back now." Kate looked around her. What if someone heard her talking to a horse? Not a soul was in sight. She urged the horse on until he came to stop beside the watering trough. Relieved to see she was still very much alone, Kate dismounted, and tethered Ringo. A few minutes later, she stood outside the front door, fist poised to knock, as her heart rose and beat in her throat. Closing her eyes, she dropped her fist, and hit nothing at all. She opened her eyes to see Hank standing in front of her, holding onto the slightly opened door. "Kate?" His expression moved from puzzled to apprehensive. "Is something wrong? Belle? Cody? Are they all right?"

Kate stepped back, and swallowed over the snag of fear in her throat. He had never looked more handsome, or more remote. "Nothing's wrong." She sounded like a petulant child. "I came to call on Aunt Cat. Is she home?" "She's here." Hank held the door open. "Do you want to come in?" "Thank you." Kate walked past him and crossed the foyer into the living room. "I hope I'm not intruding." "You scared me." Hank's hand reached to push back a lock of unruly hair. "I thought Belle or Cody might have had an accident, or one of them had been taken ill." With a wave of his hand, he invited, "Sit down." Kate eased down onto the edge of the overstuffed couch. "Where is Aunt Cat?" "You should think about getting a telephone." Kate remembered Jim trying to give her money

so she could install a telephone, and for no reason she could explain, a nervous laugh rippled from her parted lips. Hank sat down across from her. "I'm not joking." "I know. But a telephone line to Paradise?" She shrugged. "It sounded funny." She bit her bottom lip, then apologized. "I'm sorry." The humor of her reply seemed to escape Hank. His face was a gloomy mask. "Aunt Cat's asleep. I'll wake her." Before he could move, Kate raised her hand. "No. Don't do that." "She won't mind." He was on his feet. "Please sit down." She could no longer put off saying what she had come to say."I didn't come to see Aunt Cat." Obviously puzzled, Hank sat back down. "Then why are you here?"

Kate caught her bottom lip between her teeth. "I do want to see her, but..." Inhaling, Kate blurted out, "I came to talk to you." "Oh?" His bottom lip pushed forward. "Maybe you'd better explain." She took another deep breath. "That's what I'm trying to do." Hank could have made this embarrassing moment a little easier. He didn't. He glared, and waited, silent and unyielding. She had come this far. She had to follow through. "Well," Kate cleared her throat, glanced nervously around the room then let her eyes fall on her hands that were folded in her lap. "I reconsidered." "Reconsidered?" He raised a shaggy eyebrow. "Just what did you reconsider, Kate?" "A lot of things. I need to explain." Kate's backbone tingled with apprehension.

"You have the floor." He crossed his legs and folded his arms. "So go ahead, explain." In the foyer, the grandfather clock struck twice. "I let you leave the house the other day believing an untruth." "You mean you lied?" One winged eyebrow went up. The nerve! She had come here willing to crawl, and he was accusing her of lying. "I did not lie!" Hank didn't intend to give an inch. "That's what you said." With great effort of will, she held onto her temper. "You are not exactly above reproach yourself,Mr. Sinclair. You accused me of sleeping with Jim." She blinked back tears. "And York." "You said Jim asked you to marry him." His mouth pulled into a grim line. "I thought if you got that close..." "Close?" her voice rose, then fell. "He did kiss

me, that was all." She stopped, wondering why she had admitted that to Hank, of all people. "He wanted to say good bye." "And what does York want?" The thick fringe of Hank's stubby lashes fell to cover his eyes. "He wanted me to marry him." Her flat tone was without emotion. "Taylor asked you to marry him?" Hank's suspicious tone caused her to shiver. "He didn't ask me, he told me. He had the conceit to assume that I would fall into his arms and say yes." "What did you say, Kate?" She sat up and glared at him. "I said no." "Two out of three ain't bad." Hank drawled. His eyes locked into hers. " Just what do you want from me, Kate? What are you trying to tell me?" "That I've missed you, missed being with you."

She couldn't believe she would ever be so bold. Hank would probably think she had no pride at all, and was completely without morals. Where he was concerned, both statements were true. "I'm not asking for promises or commitments, but I do like..." Her voice trailed away. "Like what, Kate?" His eyes narrowed as he held her with that piercing stare. "You know what." She dropped her head as hot color crawled along her cheekbones. "I want you to take me back to the motel, or the line shack." The words had become little more than a whisper. "You want me to make love to you?" He was almost too casual. She raised her face and met his unflinching gaze. "Yes." "With no strings, and no commitments?" Hank frowned. "Aren't you afraid I might ask you to marry me?" She could never let him know how desperately

she wished he would do just that. "No. I know you don't want to marry me, and I don't want to marry you." Her heart chanted, liar, liar. Swallowing, she plunged ahead. "I do want to be with you. However, there is one stipulation." She sounded as if she were ironing out the details of a business arrangement. "I thought you said no strings." He unfolded his arms and frowned. "It's not a string, it's a stipulation." "Do you want to explain the difference?" She wasn't sure she knew the difference. "No, do you want to hear my stipulation?" "Shoot, Kate." One corner of his mouth pulled down in a lopsided grimace. "I'm ready to hear your obtuse explanation. Now he was being insulting. She would get around to telling him what she thought about that later. "So long as we are together, you sleep with me, and no one else, not even Gina."

If it had been anyone but Hank, she would have thought he was shocked by her bold proposal. He blinked as his Adams's apple moved up and down, like an elevator. "You want us to have an affair?" "I thought we already were." He smiled, a crooked, enigmatic contortion that was almost another grimace. "I suppose we are. You want my word that I will limit my amorous escapades?" Kate felt a shudder of humiliation. "Yes." "That's a strange kind of fidelity." He sounded hurt. She wondered if he were, then discarded that idea. He was probably relieved that she wasn't asking for some kind of permanent commitment. "Do you want to?" "You do make heavy demands." Irony edged his voice.

Her eyes, huge in her pale face, stared up at him from under the fringe of her heavy lashes. "Is it too much to ask?" "For how long?" Hank was looking as if she had belted him in the mid section. "For as long as it lasts. When one of us wants out, all we have to do is say so." He snapped his fingers. "Just like that, huh?" "I don't know how it's done. I've never had an affair before. Is there some procedure to follow?" She was beginning to wonder if this had been such a good idea. "Do you want to give it a try?" "I'm being compromised." He was smiling, but he didn't look happy. "Don't be flip, just answer." He shrugged one muscular shoulder. "You're serious, aren't you?" "Will you give me an answer?" Tension tightened

her voice. "Since I'm not into self denial, why not?" She let out a long sigh of relief. "I was afraid you might say no. Gina's so young and pretty." "You forget about Gina and I'll try to forget about Jim and York." He reached out one hand to her. "Agreed?" Wrapping her hands around his wrist, she smiled up at him. "Ringo is outside, saddled and waiting. Do you want to go to the line shack?" The touch of his hand on hers sent a bolt of desire jolting through her. He threw back his head and laughed, loud raucous sounds that were harsh to her ears. Between guffaws, he exclaimed, "Damned if I can figure you out." "You don't want to?" Uneasiness caused her to bite her lip and frown. "Want to?" Hank stood, and pulled her into his

arms. "Iache to. The line shack is too far." He began to lead her toward the back of the house. Kate drew back. "But what about Aunt Cat? What will she think?" "What is this? Do I detect a touch of reticence?" "If she awoke and found me in your bed, what would she think?" A picture of Aunt Cat's patrician face rose in Kate's mind. "My God, woman, you are one bundle of contradictions." Hank's head wagged in disbelief. "You come into my home, and openly propose that we have an affair, you lay down the ground rules, blatantly suggest we get it on, and now you're concerned about what someone will think?" "A little." Her teeth were still worrying her bottom lip. "Aren't you?" He scooped her into his arms and tossed her over his shoulder, as if she were no more than a sack of potatoes. "You weigh about as much as a bag of

cow feed." "Put me down!" She didn't really want him to do any such thing. "We have an agreement, remember?" Kicking his bedroom door open, he dumped her on the bed, and came down on top of her, pinning her there. "I'm at your disposal. Tell me what you want me to do." He could never do what she wanted him to do. She wanted him to love her, and she knew he never would. She was suddenly as shy as a school girl. "Would you let me undress you again?" He released her, then sat up on the side of the bed. His smile was positively wicked. "I think I can endure that." Her hands reached for the grippers on his shirt front. "I love the way your eyes light up when I touch you." Impatient to feel the roughness of his skin, she yanked the shirt open, and ran her fingers through the abundance of hair that grew on his chest, then slid them to his back. "You feel

so good." He bent this lips to her ear. His breath came in erotic little puffs. "You will be gentle?" "I want you." Her breathing was shallow and raspy as she tugged at the sleeves of his shirt. She tossed the shirt in the corner and straddled his leg, tugging at one of his heavy boots. He nudged her backside with his other foot. "Did anyone ever tell you that you have a beautiful behind? From here it looks like a valentine." The boot slid free, and Kate tossed it toward his shirt. Straddling his other leg, she tugged at the remaining boot. "This is taking too long. You will have to help me." Hank threw back his head, and laughed. "Kate, you are one of a kind." Pulling her around to face him, he kissed her passionately, letting his tongue slide into her gasping mouth to explore the hidden places inside. She responded with ardent abandon, melting like sugar in hot coffee, until she was consumed into the heat of his embrace.

He dispensed with her clothes in short order, sending them to rest atop his boots and shirt. Then, standing, he let his jeans fall around his feet, revealing his muscular thighs covered only by a pair of tight jockey shorts that hugged and outlined the massive evidence of his desire. Kate's breath caught in her throat and hung there on a little gurgle. He was too beautiful to be real. Her hands, hot and sweaty, grabbed the flimsy under garment, pulling it down around his knees, then her fingers crawled up his legs to caress the object of her affections. "You are so magnificent!" Her sudden movements upset his precarious balance, and sent him tumbling face down on the bed. "You did promise to be gentle." By now words were a waste of time. Kate was lost to anything except the passionate need that surged through her like a tidal wave. "I want you now!" Her demand was accompanied by a tug to pull him over her. "Please, Hank, now."

She had wanted this to be a slow, sensuous encounter, but her spiraling need exploded into an intense demand for release. Mouth slack, eyes glassy, Kate opened her legs and moved her hips about as she arched her body toward him. "Now!" He crawled atop her slight frame, and slid inside her with practiced perfection. "Like this?" Then he lay very still, as she moved about beneath him. He was a hot brand burning into her backbone. Liquid fire blasted through her veins, detonating little bursts of flame along every nerve ending in her body. Slowly, sensuously, he began to move inside her. The blaze leaped to a raging inferno that burned out of control, spiraling higher and higher with each thrust, until exquisite joy and glorious release swept over her. Hank exploded inside her. He collapsed with a grunt of total satisfaction, then lay still and panting for several seconds before he rolled over, and pulled her into his arms. Snuggling there, feeling content and sated, Kate promptly fell into

a deep sleep. She woke slowly, and stretched, then turned over. Hank was sitting across from her, barefoot, and wearing only a pair of form fitting jeans. He was staring at her with studied intensity. "I thought you might sleep all night." She pulled a sheet over her bare breasts. "What time is it?" As she remembered where she was, and what had happened, shame replaced her relaxed compliancy. She had behaved disgracefully. Hank must think her completely wanton. "I have to go home. Mamma will be worried." Hank yawned and stretched his arms over his head. "I sent Jake and Billy Jack over to Paradise to round up a few head of steers. They took Ringo home. I asked them to tell Mamma you would be home later." She wanted him to go, so she could dress and leave. What must he think of her? Clearing her throat, she asked, "Do you mind?"

"I don't mind. Get dressed, and I'll drive you home." He made no move to leave. "You have to step outside." "Why?" Laughter rumbled in his chest. "So I can dress." He should know why. Was he trying to be difficult? He sobered suddenly. "Are you asking me to get out of my own bedroom?" Put that way, her request sounded absurd. "I don't have any clothes on." She pulled the sheet a little higher. A smile crawled across his rugged face. "You don't say?" Looking about, Kate asked, "Where is the bathroom?" Hank inclined his head toward a door across the room.

"Oh." She twined the sheet around her. "Is it all right if I take a shower?" "Be my guest." He extended one hand toward the door. As she surveyed the space between her and the bathroom, she realized that she would have to walk within inches of Hank's chair to get there. "Don't you have something you need to do?" Hank stretched his legs out in front of him. "Not a damn thing." Holding on to the sheet with both hands, Kate put her bare feet on the thick carpet, and pointed them in the direction of the bathroom. With each cautious step, suspicion grew. Stopping just out of his reach, she asked, "What are you up to?" "Not a damn thing." "Can't you say anything but, 'Not a damn thing',?" Her voice dropped, as she imitated, to perfection his deep, mocking tone.

Like a bullet shot from a gun, Hank bolted from the chair caught the end of the sheet, and pulled hard. "Not a damn thing." The sheet fell in puddling folds around her feet, leaving her standing, bare and beautiful before him, Her entire body fused with a ruddy color. "Hank?" She watched as lights leaped and danced in the green of his eyes. "God, you are beautiful." Folding her into a tight embrace, he rubbed the hair on his bare chest against her naked breasts, creating a delicious friction. "From the top of your head to the bewitching red triangle between your legs." Scooping her into his arms, he kicked the bathroom door open. "I think we both need a shower. You to clean up, me to cool off." "Hank?" "Yeah? Do you have something to say?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and held on. "Not a thing, not a damn thing." Kate had never before considered that a warm shower could be an erotic experience. After today she would know it could be. As Hank stepped from his jeans and kicked them aside, she gave herself over to the seductive magic that only he could create.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Spring eased into summer. The days grew long and lazy. It seemed only yesterday that April's buds had blossomed into May's bright blooms. And now, in a matter of days, June's mature radiance would be only a memory. The past three months had been the happiest of Kate's life. But behind that happiness lurked an ever present fear that nagged at her at the most inopportune

moments. Sometimes after Hank had made love to her, Kate would watch him as he slept, and wonder how she would survive when he left her for someone new. She had never doubted that someday he would do just that. She struggled to live for the moment. Most of the time she succeeded. But those lapses into reality always left her shaken and afraid. It seemed the more complex and unsure her relationship with Hank became, the more the remainder of her once topsy-turvy world seemed to right itself. Belle's alliance with Cody was, indeed, a marriage made in heaven. Their happiness touched everyone around them, and seemed to grow stronger and more satisfying with each passing day. Kate had worried that her refusal to accept Jim's plea that she return to Dallas and marry him would alienate her children. The opposite turned out to be true. She was

overjoyed when Michael wrote to say that she had made the right decision in refusing Jim's proposal. He also apologized for his own high-handed role in trying to bring his mother and father together again. Suzie's acquiescence was more subtle and came much later than Michael's sudden change of heart. She and David came to Paradise one weekend in late May to visit. The next morning over breakfast, Suzie admitted that Jim was seeing a widow who lived in nearby Ft. Worth. Suzie described the lady as being fat and forty, with the ability to bake a wicked apple pie. Kate had to smile. Jim courting a fat widow seemed poetic justice after his unhappy escapade with Lila. "Maybe he has found happiness," Kate told her giggling daughter, adding that she fervently hoped so. Michael and Sharon's visit in late June had revealed, without words, to Kate, that she would soon be a grandmother. Her eyes glued to Sharon's distended stomach, Kate asked, "When?"

Sharon put her arm around her mother-in-law. "The first week in October. The baby's a girl." "You know already?" Kate questioned. "As of last week. We already have a name. We are going to call her Katherine Jane." Kate's eyes brimmed with tears. The acceptance she had sought for so long from her daughter-in-law had come at last. She hugged Sharon to her. "That's the nicest compliment I've ever had." Sharon returned Kate's hug. "If she grows up to be half the woman you are, Kate, I'll be happy." Later that evening, Kate sat on the front porch, watching the first stars of the night peep through a hazy sky. She would soon have a granddaughter who would bear her name. Maybe Daddy had been right to name this place Paradise. Then, from nowhere came the memory of her last rapturous encounter with Hank. Each time they came together the union was a little sweeter, a

little more intimate. Anything she had ever felt for Jim paled to a shadow in the substance of the love she held in her heart for Hank. If only it could last. It wouldn't, of course. Nothing ever did. She knew when the time came for them to part, Hank would be kind. There was none of the cruelty that was an innate part of Jim, in Hank. He would let her down gently. When they said good bye, at least her pride would be intact. She laid her head against the porch post and counted the few stars that peeked down at her. Hank would find a new lover, and move on, but Kate knew she would never love again. From the doorway, Belle called, "I brought you a glass of iced tea." Worry lines creased Belle's forehead as she came across the porch, and sat down beside her daughter. "What's troubling you, Kate?" Kate pasted a smile on her face. "Nothing, Mamma." Belle looked up at the darkening sky. "Are you wishing on a star?"

"No, Mamma, I was thinking." Kate took a sip of the cold tea. Wiping her wet hands along the sides of her jeans, Belle sighed. "Lord, Kate come October, I'm going to be a great-grandmother. Where did all the years go?" Kate shook her head. "Time does fly, and there is no way to call those years back. Jim once asked me if I ever wished I could go back and live my life over. I said no. Now I'm not so sure. Did you ever wish you could do it all over again, Mamma?" "Are you asking me if I have regrets?" Belle shook her head. "My only regret is, I didn't find Cody twenty years ago." "Is that all?" Kate's heart was bruised by a new sorrow. "What about Mark?" "He's one of my most treasured memories." Belle's features softened. "I loved him enough to let him go. I've never regretted setting him free.

The pain goes away after awhile, leaving only bittersweet memories." Belle brightened considerably. "And now I have Cody, and Paradise." "Paradise has been our salvation, Mamma." Kate reminisced, "Remember the first night we spent here? The coyotes scared me out of my wits. You told me I'd learn to like the sound, and I didn't believe you, but it's true. I listen every night for those mournful wails." "I always thought," Belle said with conviction, "That cry was a coyote's call to her lover. And all the answering yelps are little assurances from her mate, telling her he's near, and he cares." Belle stared in the gathering night. "Silly isn't it?" "No, Mamma, I think it's beautiful." An old ache moved in around Kate's bruised heart. "You're an incurable romantic." "Do you have regrets, Kate?" In the dim twilight, Belle squinted to see Kate's expression. "Would you really want to go back, if you could?"

Kate pondered the question for several seconds. Would she? "No. Mamma. I wouldn't change a single thing." The words were uttered slowly, and with finality. "Does that sound insufferably smug?" Belle probed, "So everything is perfect here on Paradise?" "Perfect? No." Kate felt her way through the maze of thoughts that crowded into her mind. "If -- when I wake some morning and find that my paradise has flown like a migratory bird to some other palace. I'll be content that I had that lovely Eden for a little while." "No regrets?" Belle asked relentlessly, "No sorrow?" "Sorrow? Yes." Fireflies flitted across the yard, blinking in the new darkness. "Regrets? No." How could she ever regret having loved Hank or knowing the sweet delight of having him love her? "No regrets, Mamma." As time made it's relentless progression toward a

hot July, those words came back to mock Kate. She watched, with growing concern, as each day Hank grew increasingly restless and distant. She could only guess why. He had begun to tire of her. The realization broke her heart, but she accepted that inevitability with stoic apathy. The last thing she wanted was Hank to be unhappy. Soon he would deliver his much dreaded ultimatum. Patience was not one of Hank's virtues. It was apparent to Kate that he wanted out, and he would soon say so. When Hank suggested they go to the Fourth of July celebration at Johnny Blue's, Kate agreed. Hank seemed to unwind in that loud, boisterous place. Maybe a change of scenery would help ease some of the tension between them. "It sounds like fun," she told him, watching for some sign of the relaxed Hank she had know in the beginning, and seeing none. "Good." His reply was short. "And I reserved a room at the motel." This was it. Her heart fell to the pit of her stomach. Hank was going to tell her it was over

between them. "What time do you want to leave?" He pulled his hat down. "About two." "I'll be ready." Kate promised, as he walked away. All too soon, July the fourth dawned, bright and humid, promising a long hot day. Kate dressed with care for her outing with Hank, choosing instead of jeans, a flaring denim skirt and a lacy white blouse. If this was to be her swan song, she would go out with style and dignity. No tears, no pleading. A clean break was the last gift she could give the man she loved. Hank's look of admiration as she opened the door of his pickup truck told her she had made the right choice in clothing. "Ready?" He pulled the pickup into gear. Kate felt like she was putting her foot on the first step of a gallows. "Ready." As he drove, Hank kept his eyes on the ribbon of

highway that stretched before them, seemingly lost in his own morose thoughts. Because she could think of no way to break the heavy silence, Kate watched the center stripe of the road as it sped by, and prayed for this afternoon and night to be over soon. When the silence finally became unbearable, she blurted out, "Michael and Sharon are going to have a baby." Without taking his eyes from the road, Hank asked, "Yeah? When?" "The first week in October." "That's nice." Hank never took his eyes off the road. Oppressive silence set in again. The drone of the motor was the only sound to be heard for several miles. Striving for frivolity, Kate said, "I'm going to be a grandmother."

"Does that bother you?" She heard the shifting nuance in his voice, and it made her frown. He sounded as remote as the hills. "No. I'm happy about it. The baby's a girl." Hank's face was a blank mask. "That's nice." Was he deliberately pulling away from her, or did he feel excluded because he had no family to claim as his own? A fateful fusion of faith and fear offered hope that was, at once, terrible and sublime. Did she dare believe that Hank might be jealous of her children? She crushed that absurd thought. She must not find excuses to spin foolish dreams. Kate pressed her lips together, and remained silent until Hank had pulled the pickup into the parking lot, and was setting his emergency brake. "There's quite a crowd here today." "It's an annual event." Hank unfastened his seat belt. "Around noon there was a chili cook-off." Kate wasn't sure what a chili cook-off was. Given

Hank's present mood, she decided not to ask. Hank glanced toward the sky. The cook-off was over three hours ago. He took Kate's arm. "Let's go inside. Maybe there's some chili left." They pushed through the milling crowd, found a table near the back of the huge room, and sat down. "Do you want beer with your chili?" Hank asked over the hubbub of many voices. Kate nodded her agreement. Looking around the room, she thought she had never seen so many boisterous people in one place before. The dance floor was overrun with couples dancing to the music of a loud five piece band. Hank pushed back his chair. His lips formed the words, "Let's dance." Kate followed him onto the floor, and slipped easily into his embrace. The feel of his muscular thighs pressing against her body sent a surge of bittersweet longing through her. She laid her head

on his shoulder, and flowed into his strength, following every intricate move of his body, thinking she would like to stay here in his arms forever. All too soon the dance was over, and they were back at their table, sipping beer and eating chili, as Kate made small talk in an effort to ease the tension that stretched between them like a taut bow string. Hank sat across from her, morose and silent, using those hard eyes to intimidate her completely. Dropping her chin to escape his piercing gaze, Kate decided she had to get away. She had taken all she could stand. Before she could give voice to her sudden decision, Gina Morton emerged from the crowd at the bar, and moved with purpose toward the table, and Hank. "Hank, Sweetheart, how are you?" Coming to stand behind Hank's chair, Gina looped her arms around his neck. "And Kate, how are you?"

"I'm all right," Kate swallowed a hot bite of chili. Had Hank known Gina would be here? Probably so. Gina ruffled Hank's hair with the fingers of one well-manicured hand. "And how's the big macho man today?" "Knock it off." Hank caught Gina's hand and held it. "Let go." Gina pulled her hand free and sat down beside him. "Have you recovered, cowboy?" Doubling her fist, she gave him a playful punch on his shoulder. Hank's smile was wry. "I'll survive." Gina tugged at Hank's sleeve. "Dance with me, Hank." He sounded almost belligerent. "Why?" "Old time's sake?" Gina suggested, as she continued to tug at his sleeve.

Hank stood to his feet. "One dance." Turning to Kate, he said, "I'll be right back." Gina held onto Hank as he led her toward the dance floor. Despite all her efforts to the contrary, Kate realized, with sudden clarity, that she had been spinning foolish dreams. Now regret moved in to replace those fading fancies. The neon lights above the bar danced in shimmering distortions, as she blinked her eyes to keep back the tears. She had often wondered how Hank would say goodbye. Now she knew. "Hey, pretty lady." The loud call from behind her, caused Kate to turn in her chair. The young man standing directly in back of her was vaguely familiar. He wore tight jeans and a plaid shirt. His blonde hair fell in waves around his shoulders. An expensive earring flashed in one ear. Boldly, he asked, "Remember me?" "Should I?" Kate narrowed her eyes and stared, trying to recall where she had seen this handsome young man before.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "I met you in San Antonio, at the cattleman's big bash. I'm Beauguard Jackson." "Ah, yes." Remembering made Kate smile for the first time during this long afternoon. "I do remember you." Beau turned the chair beside Kate around, and straddled it, then rested his arms across the back, and hooked his boot heels in the side rounds. "Looks like you lost old Hank to that prissy Gina." His choice of word perfectly described what Kate felt. "It would seem so." Beau leaned toward Kate. "Maybe you'd like to dance with me." "I don't know..." Beau held up both hands. "Hey, I promise to behave." It seemed she had a choice, she could dance with

Beau, or sit here and feel sorry for herself for the rest of the afternoon. "Why not?" As they walked toward the dance floor, Beau asked, "Hey do you and Hank have something going? I don't want him coming after me. He may be old, but he's one toughhombre ." Kate put her arm around Beau's neck. "I think what we had going just went." Beau grinned and pulled Kate closer. "Some guys don't know when they're well off." The music slowed to a dance for lovers, as the twang of a steel guitar moaned in harmony with a crying violin. Kate fitted her body into Beau's tight embrace, and glided across the floor, concentrating to pace herself to the rhythm of his slow, steady steps. Bending his head, Beau whispered in Kate's ear. "If you ever get tired of that crusty old cowboy, I'm available."

Kate was set to remind this brash young man, once again, that she was old enough to be his mother, when from the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Gina smiling up at Hank. She hooked her fingers in the back belt loop of Beau's jeans, and fluttered her eye lashes seductively. "Beau, darling, you did promise to behave." "Hey, lady when you look at me like that, I'm not sure I can keep that promise." He looked like a kid who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, not too sure how far it was permissible to go, but not about to stop now. "Can I call you sometime real soon?" Before Kate could tell him she had no telephone, the music stopped, and Beau was guiding her off the dance floor and toward her table. As the crowd cleared, Kate found herself being hauled from Beau's side by a strong hand. Raising her eyes, she met, head on, Hank's furious stare. Through clenched teeth, he ground out, "Just what the hell do you think you are doing?" With a slap on Hank's back, Beau offered a good

natured, "Hi, Hank." "Get lost, Beau." Hank's fingers dug into Kate's arm as, with quick, decisive strides, he began to guide her toward the back entrance. "Hey, wait a minute." Beau grabbed Kate's other arm. "Go back to Gina. You may have seen Kate first, but you don't have a brand on her that I can see." Hank turned his stormy gaze on Beau. His look alone was enough to make Kate's blood run cold. "Are you looking for trouble, Sonny?" Beau dropped his hand from Kate's arm. "Kate said you two didn't have anything going." A chill moved up Kate's back bone. "I'll explain later, Beau. I need to talk to Hank first." Beau's bottom lip dropped into a pout. "I'll be waiting at the bar, pretty lady." Turning on his boot heel, he walked away. Hank pulled the door open, and shoved Kate

through the opening. Once outside, he dropped his hand, and leaned against the building. "Are you looking for greener pastures, Kate?" Kate opened her mouth to give this arrogant man the dressing down of his life. "What did you expect when...?" "Stop it!" A white line circled Hank's taut mouth. "Don't do this Kate. Don't make me do something I will regret for the rest of my life. I've already had it up to here," with a rapid slashing motion, he drew one finger across his throat. "with you. How much do you think I can take?" "You've had it?" Her hurt grew to gigantic proportions. "You've done nothing but walk on my heart since the day I met you." Tears that had been so near the surface for months, broke through, and began to course down her flushed cheeks. "If you're unhappy with our arrangement, all you have to do, is say so." He stood erect, and narrowed his eyes. "I'm unhappy with this arrangement, damned

unhappy." "We made an agreement in the beginning." Kate's chin lifted, belligerently. The moment that had shadowed her life for three months, had finally arrived. Hank wanted out. "I'm not the one who made the agreement, you are." Hank's hands clenched into fists. "You agreed with my agreement." She reminded him caustically. "I agreed because I knew if I didn't, you'd do then what you are trying to do now." Grabbing her arms, Hank shook her vigorously. "But I won't let you get away with it." Bystanders had begun to gather around the arguing couple. A buxom blonde shouted, "Give him hell, honey." Her tall, well-built escort snorted, "Show her who's boss, cowboy." Hank began to pull Kate toward his pickup.

"Let's get out of here before we start a brawl." Kate didn't want their parting to be witnessed by a dozen staring strangers. "All right." She went with him toward the parking lot. "The motel?" Hank questioned, as he pushed through the small crowd that had gathered. The motel seemed as good a place as any to say their last good byes. She reached for the pickup door handle. "The motel is fine." They were inside the motel room before either of them spoke again. Kate dropped her overnight bag on the king sized bed, and sank down beside it. In a voice that quivered with emotion, she asked, "Can we get this over as soon as possible? I'm not terribly good at goodbyes." An unsteady chair stood in the corner. Hank sat down in with such force that the legs shook. "I can't, Kate. I know I agreed in the beginning, but I can't. You'll have to say it for both of us." "Say what?" she was genuinely confused by his

bitter outburst. He ran a shaking hand through his silver hair. "Hell, maybe it's better this way. Goodbye, Kate. Now get your bag and let's get out of here before I do something I would live to regret." She had made herself so many promises about how she would make a clean break, and now she couldn't move a muscle to leave. The ache inside her was a terrible weight that held her down and fastened her to the spot where she sat. "I'm sorry." Tears trickled down her cheeks. The agony inside her seemed to rise up and swallow every resolve she had ever made. "I'm so very, very, sorry." "Sorry?" A harsh note crept into his reply. "For what?" The raw pain in his voice cut through her like a knife. The last thing she had expected was that she could hurt him by setting him free. "Sorry I couldn't make it last." "Couldn't make it last?" Hank's hollow laugh echoed in her ears. "You neverwanted it to last.

All you ever wanted was an affair. And you told me so in no uncertain terms." Her anger at herself caused her to lash out at him. "If you didn't like what I suggested, why did you agree to it?" "Because I decided that having you for a little while was better than not having you at all. I knew you didn't want any kind of permanent arrangement." Hank began to pace the floor. "You had already refused two proposals of marriage. I knew you were running scared, so I tried to take it easy, not frighten you away. I thought with time and patience, I could change your mind. I guess I was wrong." The weight inside Kate's chest lifted a little. Dared she believe that Hank was saying what he seemed to be saying? "I thoughtyou didn't want a permanent relationship. That's what you said." "When did I say that?" The old harshness was back. "In the line shack the day you propositioned me

for the first time. And I knew you were having an affair with Gina." Scowling, he replied, "My affair with Gina was little more than a convenience." "Then why did you keep seeing her after you and I...after we..." Agony tore at her. "Why did you Hank? I know you did." "You know I didwhat ?" He scowled at her. In words that stumbled from her mouth, she told him of the telephone conversation she had overheard Aunt Cat have the day she had come to visit, as tears ran, unchecked, down her face. "Were you jealous, Kate?" He asked, incredulously. Why should she lie? "Yes. Something inside me died when I knew you were with Gina." Hank dropped into the rickety chair. "What kind of a man do you think I am?"

"I'm not judging you. You warned me in advance." "Kate, look at me." Hank's eyes caught and held hers. "After you and I made love that day in the line shack, I didn't stay with Gina ever again. Kate, darling, that jaunt was a business trip." He had called her darling. Why would he do that if he didn't care a little? Slowly the words he spoke sank into Kate's troubled mind. "You didn't go from me to Gina?" "I went to a cattle auction in Karnes County. Gina works for the auction company. She called the day before to tell me about the sale, but I wasn't in a square mile of Gina the entire time I was gone." The agony of sorrow inside Kate reduced to a dull ache. "You weren't?" A self depreciating smile slashed Hank's face. "Even if I had wanted to, which I didn't, I don't think Gina would have let me into her bed after what happened the night of the Cattleman's dance

in San Antonio." "What happened?" Kate wiped her sleeve across her face to clear her vision. "God, Kate do you know how near I came to punching York Taylor in the face that day I saw you going upstairs to his room with him?" "Is that what you think happened?" "Isn't it?" Hope laced through the dread in his reply. "No. It is not! I didn't go to his room. He walked me to the door of my room, but he didn't go inside." "He didn't?" Hank's tight face relaxed into a grin. "And you didn't?" "No. We didn't. She watched as delight expanded his grin to a wide smile. "Not then, not ever. I never slept with York." "You mean I put myself through all that torment for nothing?" Hank sighed with relief. "If you could only guess the hell I endured that

weekend." "We went sight seeing," Kate admitted, a smile of her own blooming on her face. "We went to the Alamo." She sobered suddenly. "What did you and Gina do, Hank?" "I wanted to find Taylor, and beat the hell out of him, then make love to you until you forgot any other man ever existed." Shocked to realize he had such intense feeling for her, Kate whispered, "Why?" "Because by now I had come to terms with the sad knowledge that I was hopelessly in love with you, and that you didn't give a damn for me." "What did you say?" A strange mixture of pleasure and pain stirred in Kate's breast. "I said, you hot tempered little idiot, that I had discovered I was in love with you." After a stunned silence, all she could find to say was, "Oh, Hank."

"I decided if you could make love to Taylor, I would get even by having a fast roll in the hay with Gina. I practically dragged her to her room." A new rush of tears flooded Kate's eyes. "Hank, how could you?" "That's just it, I couldn't." A self-effacing grin creased his rugged features. "I apologized to Gina. She had a good laugh, and told me I'd never be any good to another woman and suggested that if I was that far gone, I should go after you." Gina's remarks about the state of Hank's well-being began to take on meaning. "I thought you wanted her again. When she asked you to dance, and you agreed I wanted to die." "I had to get her away from you before she spilled her guts and told you what had happened. I knew she was dying to do just that." "Then why are you telling me now?" Coming across the small space that separated

them, he knelt before her. "Because I don't want to lose you. If telling you what a fool I am will make you consider staying, even for one more day, I'm willing to admit to being a fool a thousand times over." His sudden meekness at once elated and confused her. "How long would you like me to stay, Hank?" He moved to sit beside her on the bed. "How long is forever?" "You want me forever?" "Nope." "I see." Her heart sank. "No. You don't. I want you to be around until at least one day after forever, and longer than that, if possible." Hope bloomed inside her, like a flower unfolding in the sun. She wanted to believe him. Oh, how she wanted to believe him! But she had to be sure.

"You mean 'till death do us part?" "I want my brand on you." He lifted her hand to his lips, and kissed the fluttering pulse that beat at her wrist. "If Beau Jackson ever touches you again, I'll break his arm. If he dances with you, I may break his neck." Incredulously, she asked, "Youwere jealous? Of Beau?" "Consumed with it. I felt a primitive urge to shove my fist into that pretty face, and mess it up beyond recognition." That blossoming hope began to grow inside Kate. Hank cared! He honestly cared for her! But there was one other giant hurdle, and she forced herself to face it, head on. "I know how you feel about children and a family. I come with all that extra baggage. What about Mamma and Cody, and Michael and Suzie?" "What makes you think I wouldn't love having a family?" Hank pulled her into a close embrace.

She couldn't lie to him, or pretend any longer that she didn't know. Breaking the embrace, she moved to sit on the far end of the bed. "Hank you're a bachelor by choice." "Who told you that?" "York said..." With the speed of a bullet, the truth hit her. All she knew about Hank and Carol was what York had told her the night he brought her home from St. Agnes. York had deliberately tried to make her doubt Hank. Fool that she was, she had let it color her opinion of Hank's every action. A sudden scowl clouded Hank's forehead. "Spit it out, Kate." "York told me about you and Carol." "What did he tell you, Kate?" Hank stood to his feet, and glared down at her. "That she was carrying your child, and you abandoned her, refused to marry her..." Kate's voice faded on a gasp.

"You can believe that of me?" He sat back down on the bed, and stared at her. She looked full into his face. "I didn't." Her eyes filled with tears. "Never completely, anyway. Now I realize York didn't just color the truth, he lied." She ran her tongue across her dry lips. "Can you forgive me for ever having doubted you?" Hank didn't answer, just sat stiff and unmoving, as tears sprang to his eyes, and ran down his weather-beaten cheeks. Moving very near him, Kate put her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest. "I love you," she whispered against the rough finish if his shirt. "I think I'll die if you can't forgive me." Still there was no answer, as stiff and unyielding, he stared down at her. A hideous fear grabbed her. What if he couldn't forgive her? "Please," she begged, "Please forgive me. I thought you just wanted sex with me I was afraid to let you know how much I love you."

A shudder ran the length of his entire body, as he pulled her into an embrace that threatened to squeeze the breath from her body. "Say it again, Katie, say it again. Tell me you love me again." Her face was pressed into the front of his shirt until her voice was little more than a muffled rumble. "I love you." He released her slowly. "Enough to marry me?" It was the one request she had never expected to hear. A smile of pure happiness irradiated her face. "If you want to marry a soon-to-be-grandmother." "I want to marryyou , Kate. I love you." She put her arms around him, and held him close. "Can we be married under the oak trees in the back yard?" "I don't care where, but it has to be soon." He kissed her with fierce gentleness. "Very, very soon."

"Can we invite my children?" Her hands worked at pulling the front of his shirt open. "Do you think they would come? They may resent me." Hank was occupied with unfastening Kate's blouse. "Would that make a difference to you?" "Some, but not enough to stop me from marrying you." After some consideration, she added, "You are the center of my existence, They can share my life and accept you, or go their way." "You mean that, don't you?" With somber intensity, he added, "Do you know how jealous I have been of those children? They seemed to occupy first place in your heart." "Not anymore." She kissed his bare chest, and felt a shiver run through his body. "Am I truly the center of your existence, Kate?" His insecurity was cause for despair. How much pain she had inflicted on him, and she hadn't even known. "Now and forever." Her voice shook with

emotion. "And all those days after forever too." "I was afraid I'd never hear you say those words. I thought you had been so hurt, that you'd never trust another man again." "You are not just another man." She laid her head against his chest. "You are Hank Sinclair and I offer you, not only my trust, but my unconditional love." "You won't ever regret it, Kate, I promise." He had once told her that he didn't make promises he knew he wouldn't keep. In one swift, beautiful second, the truth in all its splendor dawned. He truly loved her! She slid his shirt from his shoulders, and tugged at the sleeves. "When did you first know you loved me, Hank?" He threw her blouse in the corner, and rubbed his hands along her arms. "I was captivated from the moment saw you asleep beside that bale of hay." "That was the first time you ever saw me. You couldn't have been in love with me then."

"If I wasn't, I was damn close. I admired your spunk and determination. You were so vulnerable, and at the same time so determined. I thought you and Mamma wouldn't last a week on Paradise. The next thing I knew you were conning me into signing a five-year agreement with you. Then that day in the line shack when you let me hold you in my arms and kiss you, it hit me like a bolt from the blue, I was in love with you." Reaching for Hank's belt buckle, Kate asked, "Do you know when I knew I loved you?" "No." He unfastened her bra. "When?" "The day I saw you up on that windmill tower. I thought if he falls, my life is over. I knew then I had fallen in love with you." Slowly, between exchanging loving admissions, they undressed each other. Then, through the long afternoon, and far into the night, they made love, sleeping between episodes of flaming passion and quiet interludes of confessing their undying love.

They slept past check-out time the next day, Waking at one-fifteen in the afternoon. Kate opened her eyes to see Hank sitting in the unsteady chair in the corner, staring at her with a look so blatantly adoring that it startled her into immediate wakefulness. She spoke the first words that came to her mind. "I love you." He stretched, then demanded, "Say it again, Kate." She wondered if she would spend the remainder of her life repeating each endearment she spoke, and decided if that was what pleased this man she loved beyond reason, she would be more than happy to do just that. She sat up. "I love you." His smile was like a burst of sunshine. "Promise you won't ever stop saying that to me." "I won't stop." She blew a kiss in his direction. "I love you." "And I love you, Kate." He watched as she began

to dress. "That's why I want to tell you about Carol." "You don't have to." She sat on the edge of the bed, and felt beneath it for her boots. "I want to." Clad only in her bra and panties, She came across to him, and was about to sit down in his lap. "This chair won't hold both of us." He guided her back to the bed, then sat beside her, and watched as she picked up her blouse. "I asked Carol to marry me when I knew about the baby. She refused to even consider it. She didn't want a baby. She was set on an abortion." His hands moved to caress Kate's face. "I told her an illegal abortion was dangerous. She wouldn't listen. We had a terrible fight, and I left." Drawing his head down on her breast, Kate asked, "Did you love her?" He nuzzled his face into the softness of her bosom. "I thought I did. I was very young and

immature. I know now I never knew what love was until I found you." Lifting his face, he asked, "Are you crying again?" "I'm happy" Kate slipped her arms into her blouse. "I never knew I could be so happy." "When can we be married?" He began to button her blouse. "I have to write Suzie and Michael. They may want to come to the wedding." "When we get home, you can call them." By now Hank was cramming garments into Kate's overnight bag. "There's no telephone at Paradise." Kate pulled her skirt over her hips. "I'm not taking you to Paradise." She smiled a secret little smile. "You already have." "Do you think I'm going to let you out of my

sight, ever again? You're going home with me. Home is Circle S from now on." She realized he was serious. "Hank, I can't live there with you until we are married." "Why not?" "What would people say?" She put her feet into her boots, then stood, and smoothed her wrinkled skirt. "Who cares?" He held the door open for her. "Aunt Cat might." Kate waited for Hank to shut the door. "Aunt Cat is looking forward to having you there." He took her arm, and guided her toward his pickup. "She knows?" Kate settled herself in the seat. "She knows, Jake and Billy Joe know, everybody knows I'm going to marry you." Hank slid under the wheel of his truck, and pushed the key into the

ignition. "I told them all months ago." "How did you know I'd say yes?" He threw his head back and laughed. "I'm psychic. Remember?" They were married three weeks later. Cody was Hank best man, and Suzie Kate's matron of honor. Kate had worried about Suzie accepting her decision to marry Hank. When she called Suzie to tell her of the approaching wedding, Suzie's first question had been, "Do you love him, Mom?" "With all my heart, Suzie." "Do I get to be your matron of honor?" The question was punctuated with a giggle. "Do you want to be?" "Only if you approve of a slightly pregnant matron of honor." "Suzie!" Kate's happiness soared. "When?"

"Not until next February. Mom, David is so pleased, and so excited. He thought he'd never have a child. You should see his face when he puts his hand on my stomach." After many congratulations, and a promise that she and David would be at Paradise the day before the wedding, Suzie reluctantly hung up the phone. Michael was more reserved, but seeming just as happy as Suzie about Kate's decision to marry Hank. Sharon was ecstatic. Grabbing the telephone from Michael, she babbled, "That's wonderful, Kate. You deserve a little happiness after all you've been through." The long awaited day finally arrived. Hank and Kate stood under the oak trees where Belle and Cody had exchanged vows, and Suzie and David had pledged their eternal love. The ceremony was short, simple, and moving. As

Hank placed a wide gold band on the third finger of Kate's left hand, she lifted her face and saw tears in his eyes. "Even after forever," he promised, as he bent his head and claimed her lips in a kiss that pledged nothing short of paradise.

EPILOGUE

Spring had come again to the Brush Country. The trees ran the gamut of greens, as mesquites burst forth with the innocence of first blooms, and oaks unraveled new leaves. Kate looked from the sleeping infant she held in her arms toward the lush landscape, and sighed happily. Through the long weekend the big ranch house

had been a hubbub of activity. Suzie and David, who were now frequent visitors to the ranch, had arrived the previous Friday afternoon with their young son, David Junior. Saturday morning Michael, Sharon, and their six-month-old daughter, Kate, had put in an appearance. Early Sunday morning Belle and Cody had driven over from Paradise, bringing with them enough food to feed an army. The noon meal was over now, and with the excuse that she wanted to put David Junior down for his nap, Kate had taken the infant and slipped from the room. What she really wanted was some time alone to savor her happiness. "Your grandmother is a happy woman," she told the sleeping child. The sound of jingling spurs told her Hank had come to stand behind her. "So is her husband." Turning, Kate saw Hank holding little Kate in his arms, and grinning sheepishly. With a shrug of his

broad shoulders, he explained, "I offered to put little Katie down for her nap." Kate's adoration for the man who stood before her sounded in her voice, shone in her eyes. "You're a model grandfather, and a model husband." His grin spread. "Yeah, I had to get away, too." "Too much family?" The easy way that Hank had become a part of her children's lives had been the ultimate fringe benefit of her marriage to this strong, gentle man. Hank chuckled. "When you can listen to Belle explain the state of affairs in Washington, D.C., and it makes sense, It's time to leave." Early last fall Hank had put cribs in one of the bedrooms of the huge ranch house, effectively turning it into a nursery. As Kate lay the sleeping David into one of those cribs, she asked, "Do you think I should try to get Aunt Cat to rest for a while?"

"Are you kidding?" Hank straightened from covering the sleeping Kate. "Aunt Cat is in seventh heaven. She has what she's always wanted, a family to call her own." He drew Kate into his arms. "Besides, between them, she and Mamma are solving the political woes of the world." He brushed his lips across Kate's lips before adding, "Well, at least the governmental troubles in the USA " They stood for several minutes looking down at the sleeping babies, before Hank took Kate's arm and began to guide her toward the back door. "Let's go for a ride." "But our guests..." Kate protested. "Will never miss us." Hand in hand they walked toward the barn. Kate sat on a bale of hay as Hank saddled Ringo, then Diablo. Kate lifted herself into the saddle. "Do you think we should tell someone where we're going?"

Over his shoulder, Hank, shouted an emphatic, "No." The horses galloped across the open plain, a proud black stallion, and a slim-legged gelding. Atop a sloping ridge Hank pulled his horse to a halt, and dismounted. "Remember the first time I took you riding?" Kate slipped with ease from the saddle to the ground. "It was the first time I'd ever been on a horse. I was scared to death." The prairie stretched out on all sides of them. Wild flowers intertwining with the grass, had turned the countryside into a patchwork quilt of riotous colors, stitched with vibrant green threads. Kate pushed her hat from her head. The sun caught and tangled in the flame of her hair. "Look." She pointed toward a clump of scrubby mesquite trees. "The white winged doves have come back and brought spring with them." "You're beginning to sound like Mamma." Hank

held Diablo's reins in one hand as he placed the other on his hip. "I am?" Her rounding eyes and questioning look made him smile. "You're guilty of faulty reasoning, Kate. The doves don't bring spring. They come back because spring is here." Her eyes challenged his. "Prove it." "Prove what?" One eyebrow climbed up his amused face, as his green eyes danced with laughter. "You know what, prove what you said is..." she searched around for a word before adding, "correct." "Yep. Just like Mamma.How would I prove a statement like that?" A wicked smile pulling at one side of Kate's mouth. "You could begin by proving you are a man of integrity and veracity." She took a step in

his direction, "I'm easy to persuade." Dropping Diablo's reins, Hank drew Kate into his arms. "Woman, are you trying to make me forget any logical argument I ever knew?" Dropping his mouth to cover hers, he kissed her passionately. "Do you believe I love you?" "Oh, yes, I believe that. What does that have to do with the birds and spring?" "Will you answer the question?" "I did. I know you love me." "What makes you so sure?" "You show me in so may ways every day. But I still don't understand..." She wound her arms around his neck and smiled into his eyes. He nuzzled his face in her hair. "Do you trust me?" "You know I do."

"There's your answer." Kate charged, "That's no answer." "Sure it is. The birds love spring. They trust that it will return each year so they come back. The birds only prove spring is here." He dropped his mouth on hers, and kissed her again. Opening her eyes, Kate looked up at him. "Now you're beginning to sound like Mamma. That's the worst analogy I ever heard." "Are you questioning your husband's good judgment?" She lifted her pleading lips for another kiss. "Could you be a little more specific?" He took his time. With consummate skill and slow pleasure, he kissed her again, then asked, on the end of a long breath, "Do you agree?" She moaned into his mouth, "Tell me more." "Here? On this hard ground?" He swatted her

playfully on the back side. "I'm a grandpa, remember?" Her answering laugh was a melody in the warm wind. "Then let's go home. I like the way you argue your point." "That place is crawling with people. I have a better idea. Let's ride over to the line shack." Kate mounted Ringo and nudged her heels into his flanks "Let's go." The gelding broke into a trot. Hank shouted into the wind, "Wait for me!" Kate waited for Hank to catch up to her, and together they rode toward Paradise. The End

If you liked this book, then you'll love Barri Bryan's A Love Like Mine -- A contemporary

romance

And don't forget to check all our other great titles available at www.newconceptspublishing.com

About this Title This eBook was created using ReaderWorks®Standard 2.0, produced by OverDrive, Inc. For more information about ReaderWorks, please visit us on the Web at www.overdrive.com/readerworks