A Little Texas

They hit one final air pocket before leveling out. Kate let loose her breath. “Okay. Okay. We made it.”

“Yep, we made it.” He released her hand.

Kate looked at him. “No problem.”

But he couldn’t respond because he knew there was a problem. And her name was Kate. And she was Justus’s daughter. And she had Ryan’s eyes. And she stirred some tucked away feeling of protection.

It didn’t help that she wore tight-ass jeans and lowcut sexy shirts. That she pranced around in teetering heels, smelling of spicy earthiness. That she knew how to handle a man.

He had to resist her, so he didn’t say a word. Because he knew.

Big problem.

CHAPTER FOUR

ARRIVING IN OAK STAND, Texas, felt like being tossed into a game of pickup at a state prison. At the end of the day, someone would likely get shanked. The bucolic Texas countryside framed ten square miles of hypocrites and busybodies all wrapped up in a Norman Rockwell-style package with a gingham bow. Kate felt the prying eyes and raised eyebrows as she climbed from Jack Darby’s massive pickup.

Yep. The bitch was back.

She stretched, glad the two-hour ride from the Dallas airport was over. She’d been cooped up far too long and needed to move her legs.

“You sure you want to walk to Tucker House? I don’t mind dropping you by after I make this deposit,” her friend’s husband said, doffing his baseball cap and tucking it into his back pocket. Jack looked around as if he too felt the curiosity of the townsfolk. They’d parked in front of the Oak Stand Bank and Trust, the hometown bank with a friendly smile. Service you can bank on.

“I need the walk,” Kate said, refusing to remove her sunglasses. She didn’t need the protection from the graying sky—she needed it from the prying eyes.

Jack’s brow crinkled as he eyed her high-heeled boots. “You sure?”

“I started walking in these when I was five.”

“You had big feet, huh?” Jack chuckled.

“Yeah, that’s it. And all the kids called me Bozo,” Kate drawled, grabbing her purple Balenciaga handbag and slamming the truck door. “I know the way.”

Nellie’s husband threw her a salute much as Jeremy had earlier that day. Kate never minded a man saluting her. Even a smart-ass like Jack. The man lived to get under her skin, even though she knew he held a grudging affection for her. “See you back at the house, Katie.”

“Kate,” she said as she yanked the belt of her Burberry raincoat tighter and looked around.

Oak Stand looked about the same as it had the last time she’d visited except The Curlique Salon had gotten a new sign out front and the town square’s grass was faded yellow. That was pretty much it for change.

Tucker House wasn’t far. She could see the huge white structure across the square, right behind the statue of Rufus Tucker, founder of Oak Stand and great-great-grandfather to Nellie. She could cross through the park on the flagstone-paved path easily enough, but she decided to take the long way around to decompress a bit. Prepare herself. Everything had happened so quickly, she felt cut loose. Floating above herself.

It didn’t help that the plane ride seemed a misty memory. The Xanax she’d taken had calmed her too much. She could barely remember the journey. But she remembered Rick, the way he smelled, the way he felt next to her.

She looked down at her bare hand. She’d forgotten her gloves at home, but she hadn’t forgotten his touch. The way his thumb had stroked the skin on her wrist as the plane had climbed into the sky. Then once again as the plane prepared to land. Kate had had guys do lots of things to her hands—hold them, squeeze them, kiss them, suck her fingers—but she’d never had a man comfort them.

She tucked her hand into her coat pocket. She didn’t have time to think about Rick Mendez and the weird tingling his touch had awakened in her. She’d bought herself some time, but she needed a plan.

When Jack had pulled up to baggage claim at the airport and tossed Kate’s carry-on into the cab of his truck, she thought Rick might protest, but he held back, nodding to Jack as he passed him. Rick had told her Justus was expecting her, but she wanted to meet her biological father on her own terms. If this were some sort of a game Justus was playing, she needed home field advantage. Nellie, not Oak Stand, had always been that for her.

She approached the steps of Tucker House feeling as if she’d stepped back through time. As always, the porch was freshly painted and Margo met her at the door.

“Well, I do declare, Miss Katiebug Newman, as I live and die.”

“Hey, Margo. And it’s Kate, by the way.”

The diminutive woman grinned. “I know. Just like to ruffle your feathers is all.”

Kate rolled her eyes. Margo had worked for Nellie’s grandmother when Nellie was a child, cleaning house and ironing all those Peter Pan collars Nellie had had to wear. Margo had taken a break to help raise her own grandchild, but returned to Tucker House when Nellie had started the senior care center a few years ago. It was good to see Margo holding the door open again.

“Come on in. Nellie’s out back with Mae trying to dig up some bulb she wants to plant at her place.”

Kate stepped into the heat of Tucker House. The walk had made her plenty warm, and several older ladies and gentlemen peered unabashedly at her as she shrugged out of her coat and hung it on a peg by the beveled glass door.

“You’re Myrtle Newman’s granddaughter,” a spry silver-headed lady said, rising from the couch. The woman wore lavender yoga pants and a sweatshirt that said Hot Yoga Mama.

Kate felt herself stiffen even as she smiled. “Yes.”

“Myrtle made a good pie,” the lady said, her eyes twinkling in a friendly manner. “I tried to make her chocolate pie one year. Just wasn’t the same. I’m Ester.”

“Oh, yes, Ester. You taught Sunday school.” Kate tried to smile, but it felt stuck. Something about Oak Stand made her feel claustrophobic. As though she was knotted up and couldn’t move or breathe.

“Yep. Taught it for twenty-eight years before I got too tired to deal with kids kicking my shins. But you never kicked me, Katie.”

“Kate.”

“Kate. Of course,” Ester beamed at her.

Kate needed to get out of here. Other ladies were creeping closer. “Well, I need to find Nellie.”

Kate bolted before anyone could ask her anything else about her late grandmother, her past, her future or her dietary habits. She could never live in Oak Stand. Too many nosy people. Margo laughed at her as she scurried through the kitchen and out the back door.

Kate let the screen door bang against the house as she exited. Nellie dropped the shovel and turned. “Kate!”

“Finally, someone gets my name right,” Kate grumbled as she trotted down the stairs toward the only person who felt like family.

Nellie looked terrific. Her blond-streaked hair was in a lopsided ponytail and dirt smudged one cheek. She wore tight jeans tucked into polka-dotted rubber boots and a hooded sweatshirt that hung midthigh. A chubby baby in a pink knitted parka and matching cap clung to her knees. The smile Nellie gave her made the cloudy day seem brighter.

Kate gave her friend a hard hug before dropping to one knee. “Hi, Mae flower, it’s Auntie Kate.”

Mae blinked green eyes at Kate, then hid her face between Nellie’s knees.

Nellie patted her daughter’s head. “She’s going through a stage. She won’t look at people. No one. Not even Margo.”

Kate rose. “That’s okay. I’m not good with kids anyway.”

Nellie sighed and shook her head. “Kate, how would you know? You’re probably brilliant with kids. She loves the boots you sent her. Don’t you, Mae?”

They both looked down at the baby, who still clutched Nellie like a street peddler would clutch a shiny penny.