Blame It On Texas Page 7

  “Oh, Kate, it’s beautiful.”

  “Calf-length, machine washable, with buttons up the front. It’s for after you have the baby.” She helped move the wrappings away and shoved the paper into the shopping bag. Poor Emily could barely move. “And it doesn’t have a waist, I promise. Waists aren’t in this year.”

  “Thank goodness.” She held it up and grinned. “I absolutely love it, Kate. You know redheads love yellow.”

  “If it doesn’t fit I can exchange it when I get back, so hurry up and have the baby so you can try it on.”

  “I told George I’d take a long walk today, to get things going. Want to come?” She carefully folded the dress and tucked it back into the box.

  “I can’t. I’m heading out to the ranch.”

  Emily giggled. “Of course you are.”

  “To help my grandmother, Em, not to ogle the hired help.”

  “There are rumors she’s going to sell him the place, you know.”

  “Rumors,” Kate repeated. “That’s all they are, because she hasn’t said anything to me about selling.” And selling was something her grandmother would never do. “The only thing she’s told me is that she’s writing a book.”

  “A book about what?”

  Kate rose and, making herself at home at Emily’s as she always had, refilled their coffee cups. “Her life, the story of the town. I’m not really sure, but she wants to meet Katie Couric and be on television.”

  Emily laughed. “If anyone can do it, it’s Grandma Gert.”

  “My mother is having a fit. She thinks Gran is going to spill the family secrets.”

  “You mean she knows what you and Dustin were doing in the drive-in that summer?” Her belly went up and down as she laughed. “Now that would make interesting reading.”

  “I really hope you give birth to triplets.”

  “Unrequited lust must be making you a teeny bit vindictive,” Emily said. “You’d better hurry up and get out to the ranch before I make you my birthing coach.”

  “Birthing coach?” she echoed. “Are you having contractions?”

  “I will,” Em promised, “if you keep making me laugh like this.” She patted her belly and spoke as if talking to the child inside. “Don’t mind Auntie Kate. She’s never been able to resist a cowboy.”

  “I can resist,” Kate promised. “I’m not going to be around long enough to get into trouble.”

  “We’ll see,” her friend said, smiling as if she knew exactly how flustered Kate felt whenever Dustin Jones was in the vicinity.

  THE BOY GREETED her when Kate drove up in the yard. He clutched a dirty metal truck and gave her one of his shy smiles as she climbed out of the Lincoln. Oh, yes, she thought. His father all over again, and Kate willed herself to resist the kid’s charm—which wasn’t going to be easy, because he was staring up at her as if she was a goddess.

  “Hi.” It was surprisingly nice to be a goddess, even when it was this particular kid making her feel that way.

  “Hi,” Danny answered, falling into step beside her as she headed toward the kitchen door.

  “How are you this morning?” she asked, wondering why she had an escort. She wasn’t exactly sure what to say to him. She didn’t really want to talk to the boy.

  “Good.”

  “It’s a nice day to play with your truck,” Kate said, hesitating in front of the kitchen door. She wondered if he waited to be invited inside. She surprised herself by inviting him. “Did you want to come in?”

  “Okay.” He hurried to hold the door open for her, and Kate struggled to keep a straight face. He was so serious about being a gentleman, even though he was covered in a layer of Texas dust and had a cowlick sticking straight up from the back of his head. The truck came right into the kitchen with him.

  “Grandma Gert,” he called. “Guess who’s here!”

  Gran looked up from reading the newspaper and pretended to be surprised. “Well, my goodness! Kate and Danny have come to say good morning.”

  “I brought lunch, too,” Kate said, crossing the kitchen to give her a hug. “Don’t get up. Stay right there and I’ll make a fresh pot of coffee for us.” She turned to Danny. He may as well make himself useful. “Would you like to carry in the groceries? They’re in the back of the car.”

  “Sure.” He set the truck by the door and hurried off, the door banging shut behind him.

  “I suppose you brought that fancy coffee again.”

  “I sure did.” She leaned against the scratched Formica counter and surveyed the kitchen. Pine cupboards lined two walls, the refrigerator sat at the end of the south wall. She’d bet it could use a good scrubbing, since Gran was known for saving food long past its prime.

  “You’ve got that look in your eyes, Katie. That cleaning look.” Gert frowned at her. “I thought we would work on the book instead.”

  “We’ll talk about it while I clean. How about that?” She rinsed out the coffeepot and filled it with cold water. “Do you want an early lunch or just coffee right now?”

  “Coffee and cake sounds good.” She shoved the papers aside and stood. “I’ll fix the cake. There’s so much left over we could be eating it ’til Labor Day.”

  It was useless to argue with her. Useless to try to spoil her. Kate went to the door and held it open for Danny, who had somehow managed to carry four plastic bags in one trip.

  “That’s a lot of stuff,” he said, dropping it on the old linoleum. Thank goodness she hadn’t bought eggs. “You’re gonna clean a whole lot, huh?”

  “Yes, I sure am.”

  “Ladies like to do that, huh?”

  “Some do,” she said, picking up two of the bags and setting them on the counter. She found the electric grinder she’d purchased three years ago in the same cluttered cabinet where she’d left it, then opened the bag of coffee beans and proceeded to finish making coffee.

  “Here, Danny,” she heard Gran say. “I saved the comics for you.” She turned to see the little boy seat himself at the table as if he did so every day. And maybe he did. Gran reached over to smooth his hair, then set a plastic plate filled with cake slices on the table. “Where’s your father this morning?”

  “Cleanin’ the barn, I think.”

  “Oh, dear,” her grandmother said.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Dustin should be taking the day off. It’s the only time he gets off, except for Saturday afternoons.”

  Danny shrugged. “We’re gonna go to town later.”

  “Does he know where you are?”

  The boy shrugged again and Gert answered for him. “Danny’s allowed to play between his house and my house, Kate. His daddy will know where to find him.”

  A ninety-year-old woman and a little boy certainly seemed to have everything under control.

  “I froze cinnamon rolls,” Gran announced. “You could heat ’em up for your coffee, put ’em in that microwave oven you gave me, if you’re tired of birthday cake.”

  Her mouth watered at the thought. “I guess cleaning can wait.”

  “Grandma Gert makes good stuff,” the boy declared before he returned to the comics spread out in front of him.

  “Yes, I know.” She wondered how much time the boy spent at the house. He certainly seemed comfortable, which bothered her a little.

  “Is your fancy coffee ready yet? It sure smells good.”

  “Almost,” she said, glancing out the window at the barn. Someone had begun painting it white, which she hadn’t noticed last night. “You’re painting the barn?”

  “Dustin’s idea,” Gran said. “We’re sprucing the place up.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “And about time, too. This ranch is a hard place to keep up,” Gran said. “Needs a young man.”

  “You’ve done fine so far,” Kate reminded her.

  “Ha! Take a good look around, honey, and you’ll see all sorts of things I’ve had to let go.” She shook her head. “I hate letting the ranch get in this condition.
Sometimes I look around and figure your mother is right, and it’s time to let someone else take over.”

  “But—”

  “Pour me some of that coffee, Katie,” her grandmother said, changing the subject as if it was too painful for her. “My mouth is watering.”

  Later, after the three of them had eaten their fill of birthday cake and cinnamon rolls dripping with butter, Kate refilled her coffee cup and began lining up cleaning supplies on the counter.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Gran said, stifling a yawn.

  “You don’t have any choice,” Kate said, giving her a smile as she unwrapped a new sponge. “Go take a nap, or watch television.”

  “Can I stay, too?” Danny brought his empty juice glass to the sink.

  “I think we’d better let Grandma Gert take a rest now,” Kate told him, wondering just exactly how much time the child spent here. Was Dustin using Gran as a baby-sitting service? That was another thing she would have to look out for.

  “We were going to talk about the book,” Gert said, clearing the table and coming over to set the dirty dishes in the sink. “I’ve been thinking how to start it, earlier than when I was born.”

  “Before 1910?”

  “My father told me stories,” she said.

  “Stories?” Danny picked up his truck and tucked it under his arm. “What kind of stories?”

  “Oh, about his father and mother, and their parents,” Gert said. “Does your daddy tell you stories?”

  “No.” The boy frowned. “We don’t have any family.”

  Kate and Gert exchanged a look over the boy’s head, then Gert patted his shoulder. “I’ll tell you a story next time you come over to visit,” she promised.

  “Okay.” With that, he started out the door, but hesitated before he left. “Thank you for the breakfast, um, lunch,” he called.

  “You’re welcome,” Kate said, watching him walk across the dusty yard. His serious expression reminded her of his father. We don’t have any family. Was Dustin estranged from his brothers? She could see why, especially when it came to the one who was in jail. But what of Danny’s mother’s family?

  “There’s more to that story,” Gran said, shaking her head. “Those two seem all alone in the world.”

  “I wonder why.”

  “Dustin doesn’t talk much,” her grandmother said. “But I guess you know that.”

  “He never did like to talk about his family,” she agreed.

  “So you were good friends?”

  “For a while,” she admitted, avoiding Gran’s gaze. “Kid stuff.”

  “Kid stuff,” Gert repeated. “Is that the same as ‘puppy love?”’

  “I guess.” If puppy love meant making love in the back seat of a car twenty or thirty times.

  “He’s a handsome man,” her grandmother said. “Reminds me of your grandfather at that age, tall and strong. You haven’t met anyone like that in New York City, I’ll bet.”

  “No.” And Kate didn’t know why, except that the few relationships she’d had were surprisingly disappointing in the passion department. And yet none of those men—an accountant, an actor and one brilliant associate producer—had broken her heart.

  Gran left the table and disappeared into the parlor for a moment. When she returned she held an armload of papers. “I’ve made some notes.”

  “You’ve started already?”

  “Oh, yes, dear. At my age it’s too risky to put anything off ’til tomorrow.” She seated herself at the kitchen table and pointed to the chair across from her. “All this cleaning can wait, dear. Should I start with when I was born or should I start with my grandfather’s life?”

  “Well, you can do it either way,” she said, sitting down and eyeing the large stack of papers. Gran’s handwriting, fine and elegant, covered the pages. There were documents, too, yellowed papers with official seals peeking out of the untidy stack. “We can call it a ‘rough draft’ and then rewrite it any way you think is best. What’s important is to get it all down.”

  “Get it all down,” Gran repeated, “in a rough draft.” She nodded. “I like that ‘rough draft’ business. It sounds very professional. Did you bring your computer?”

  “It’s in the car.”

  “Well, go get it, Kate, and we’ll get started. I’m not going to live forever, you know.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “ASK DUSTIN IF HE could carry those trunks down for us,” Gert said, leaning back in her favorite overstuffed armchair. “He won’t mind.”

  “It’s his day off,” Kate reminded her. “Danny said they were going to town.”

  “They haven’t left yet.” Gert could see everything from this chair, including the view from the front windows that showed everyone coming and going along the ranch road. She’d kept a careful eye out for the young man’s truck and so far she knew he hadn’t gone anywhere at all.

  “I can get them,” Kate assured her, stacking another pile of papers into a neat bundle. They’d been organizing Gert’s papers for a couple of hours, but there was a lot more to do and Gert knew darn well that Kate couldn’t move those heavy trunks downstairs all by herself. “I can leave the trunks where they are and just bring down what’s in them.”

  “It’ll take too long. And those things could fall apart in your hands,” she warned.

  “I can figure it out,” the girl assured her.

  “Suit yourself,” Gert said, trying not to smile at the stubborn streak that Kate inherited from her side of the family. How else could anyone stay ranching in Texas for a hundred and fifty years if they didn’t have a hard head and a wagon load of determination? “But I’d better come with you, then, to help.”

  Kate looked horrified, as expected. “Gran, stay right here. I’ll manage.”

  “Nope.” She struggled out of her chair. Her darn legs were always stiff after sitting down for a couple of hours, but it didn’t last long. “I’ll be fine once I get myself going again.”

  “Never mind,” her granddaughter said, hurrying over to the chair to help Gert sit back down again. “I’ll get Dustin.”

  “Well,” she drawled, “if you’re sure…”

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Kate assured her. “Just stay put.”

  Oh, she’d stay put, all right. For now. She’d sent her beautiful granddaughter off to find a cowboy. A good man, that Dustin. A hard worker, too. Didn’t shirk from dirty work, either. And knew a lot about ranching. Taking care of the boy the way he did showed he was the kind of man a woman wanted around, the sort of man who took his responsibilities seriously.

  And Kate needed a man in her life. And Gert needed a man to take over this ranch. She used to think she’d leave it to Kate and Jake. It was a big enough spread for the both of them and they were smart enough to figure out how to work it out, not that either one of them needed the place. But Kate seemed content to live in that darn city and Jake already had his own place, a nice piece of land given to him by his boss, God rest his soul. R. J. Calhoun had been quite a man.

  So she was free to do what she wanted with the Lazy K. She could “get creative,” her lawyer had said the last time he was out here for coffee and cinnamon buns. He’d wiped his fingers and licked the frosting from his lips and then given her some advice she thought she just might take after all.

  There was a lot to think about these days, but Gert surveyed her home and figured she had a little more time to figure out what was best. Dustin would make a good partner and he was the kind of man her Edwin would have liked.

  Then again, Edwin liked just about everybody—except Hank, of course. Hank had always been difficult.

  His sister, Martha, was nothing like him; she’d always aimed to do the right thing. And her granddaughter was her mother’s child all the way. It was a treat to have Kate home, but it wouldn’t be for long. And Dustin was here indefinitely. The man would make a good partner—for the ranch and for a woman, all right. If she could only get Kate to realize it before it was
too late.

  “My, my,” she said aloud, used to talking to herself. “This could get interesting.”

  “I HATE TO BOTHER you, but—” Kate hesitated, standing in the wide doorway of the barn. The odor of sweet hay assaulted her as the breeze blew through the open doors, and Kate wished she had time to saddle one of the horses and take a long ride along the southern fence line. Later, she promised herself. When Gran took her afternoon rest, she would defy the heat for just a short while.

  “But?”

  “We—Gert needs your help moving some trunks from the attic and she wondered if you’d mind—”

  “I don’t mind,” he said, those dark eyes looking her over as if he didn’t like what he saw. He leaned the hay rake in the corner and pulled off his thick work gloves. “That’s what she pays me for.”

  “She said it was your day off.”

  He shrugged, as if days off didn’t matter. As if he had all the time in the world, which Kate found faintly annoying. No one should look as good as this man, all dust-covered denim and tanned skin. He took off his Stetson and banged the dust off it before replacing it on his head.

  “Where’s Danny?”

  “He should be around the back of the barn. He’s got a digging operation going.”

  “Oh.” She fell into step beside him. “He showed me his truck.” Odd that they should be talking about the child whose conception had broken her teenage heart.

  “It’s his favorite toy,” Dustin said. “It was the only thing he had when he moved—” He stopped, as if he hadn’t meant to say as much as he had.

  “When he moved in with you?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. A few months ago.”

  “Where’s his mother?”

  “Beats the hell out of me.”

  She hadn’t expected that particular answer. Dustin reached the corner of the barn and called to the boy, telling him he’d be over at Gert’s for a few minutes. Danny waved, his smile widening as he spotted Kate, but he didn’t seem interested in following them this time. She supposed he’d eaten enough cinnamon rolls and pieces of cake to be content for an hour or two.