AT EIGHT-THIRTY on Tuesday evening, Joyce came over to discuss wedding plans with Kate. She had a carryall stuffed with brochures over her shoulder and a rectangular cake carrier in her hands. “I brought a Texas sheet cake over for the boys.”
“Thank you. They’ll love that,” Kate said, holding open the door and ushering her mom inside. The traditional chocolate-buttermilk cake with pecan frosting was one of her favorites, too, which her mom knew very well. Kate set the cake on the kitchen counter, then escorted her mother to the adjacent family room where she had already placed a pitcher of iced tea and a plate of sugar cookies.
“No problem. I was baking one for our neighbors, anyway, so I figured I might as well put two in the oven and bring you-all one, too.” Joyce paused as she caught sight of the illuminated screen on Kate’s computer. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”
“I was just catching up on my e-mail while I was waiting for you to get here. Would you like some iced tea?”
“That’d be lovely, thank you.” Joyce set her bag of wedding brochures down and looked around at the clean, orderly surroundings. “It’s awfully quiet,” Joyce said.
Clearly, Kate thought, this was not what her mother had expected, and if she’d come over either Sunday evening or Monday morning, she would have found a much different environment. Kate gestured for her mother to take a seat. “Will is at football practice. Brad and Riley are out with friends. Kevin is asleep and Lewis is upstairs playing on his computer, in his room.”
Looking as pretty as always in a long, flowing floral print dress and matching pastel flats, her gray-blond bob a fluffy halo around her face, Joyce asked in a low, worried voice, “What about Sam?”
Figuring she could e-mail Craig later, Kate shut down her computer. “Sam hasn’t come home from work yet.”
“Has he found a new housekeeper yet?”
“Not to my knowledge.” Kate added lemon and sugar to Joyce’s tea and handed it to her. “I know he’s looking. He’s placed ads in all the major Texas and Oklahoma papers.”
Joyce took a delicate sip of tea. “What about Craig?”
Tensing at the unspoken implication, Kate offered her mother a sugar cookie. “What about him?”
“What does he think about you living here?”
Kate had known this would continue to be an issue with her parents, even if it wasn’t one with her fiancé. She looked at her mother calmly. “Craig thinks it’s great that I’m helping out, Mom.”
“He said that?” Joyce said, stunned.
“On e-mail. Yes, he did.” Kate studied her mother, then grinned at the absurdity of it all. “What? Did you expect him to be jealous?”
“Well…” Joyce fingered the pearls around her neck. “Actually, yes, since he is your fiancé and the two of you haven’t seen each other for almost nine months.”
It was all Kate could do to not roll her eyes. Sometimes her parents were so old-fashioned. “Well, that will change shortly. Craig’s coming home in ten days, Mom.”
“Did you get the knock-em-dead dress you ordered from Jenna Lockhart?”
Kate thought about the dress and matching jacket that was so outlandishly sexy she wouldn’t want her parents to ever see her in it. Or even get a look at it. “I picked it up last week.”
“You haven’t forgotten your appointment to try on wedding dresses at Jenna’s boutique?”
“Thursday morning, nine o’clock.”
Realizing those plans were continuing as scheduled, Joyce began to relax. “Before we talk about the wedding, I wanted to tell you that your father and I are planning a welcome home party for Craig at the house.”
“He’ll like that.”
Joyce removed an elegant leather-bound day-planner and pen from her purse. “He’s getting in on a Friday night, right?”
“Yes, and we’ve already made reservations at a really nice hotel in Dallas.” Kate watched her mother flip through a calendar crammed with social and charitable activities to the appropriate page. “So we won’t be driving back to Laramie until early Saturday afternoon,” Kate cautioned.
“Do you think his parents are going to want to come up from Corpus Christi for that?”
“I’ll ask, but I doubt it. They’re going to be on vacation until the day before he gets back in the U.S.—they booked a cruise months ago—and I know his mom is planning a party there for us also.”
Joyce sighed wistfully. “I wish they still lived in Laramie. It’d make things so much simpler.”
“Yes, it would, but they wanted to live on the beach when they retired, and they’re happy there, so we’ll just visit both places. After we have a night to ourselves.”
“That’s probably best. You two need some time alone after such a long separation.”
Kate studied her mother. “Anything else on your mind?” There seemed to be something.
Twin spots of color appeared in Joyce’s cheeks. “I may as well tell you. I heard there was a big free-for-all over here yesterday morning.”
“Things aren’t perfect. The boys would still rather be unsupervised, but since that’s not going to happen, they’ve more or less given up on trying to chase me away. For the moment, anyway.” And that, Kate knew was a first step toward letting another woman into their lives. Something they had been unwilling to do on any level—the love and loyalty to Ellie was that fierce.
To Kate’s annoyance, her mom remained skeptical of any progress Kate had made. “And Sam?” Joyce asked.
Kate helped herself to a sugar cookie. “What about him?”
“He’s been so moody. I don’t ever remember him being that way.”
Kate nodded, acknowledging this was so. “He misses his wife terribly.” To the point he still couldn’t bring himself to join the boys for dinner. Last night because he had been closeted in his study, involved in conference calls with the California company and his own staff from 5:00 p.m until nine. Tonight, because he had chosen to once again work very late. Kate had pondered Sam’s aversion to eating a sit-down dinner with his kids, and theorized doing so probably was just too painful a reminder of Ellie and the way things used to be. It was something he was going to have to get over, for all their sakes. But it was going to take time.
Joyce’s eyes clouded with worry. “I just don’t want him taking out his grief on you.”
“I have very thick skin, Mom,” Kate explained gently. “I have to have one to be able to do what I do over at the hospital. When people are trying to come to terms with a tremendous loss or calamity in their lives, they lash out at whoever is closest as well as at anyone who tries to help them face their feelings. And because I run a grief counseling program, that’s often me. I don’t take it personally.”
“I’m glad to hear that, honey. Because I wouldn’t want you to get hurt by all this, or overly involved.”
Kate didn’t want to be hurt, either. As for becoming overly involved with Sam and his kids…well, she just wouldn’t let herself do that. Kate reached over and patted her Mom’s arm. “Mom, will you relax? I’m a professional. I know what I’m doing. Now, let’s talk about the wedding.”
“Good idea. I’ve compiled a preliminary guest list of people your father and I would like to invite.”
Kate scanned the pages her mother handed her, stunned. “Mom, there have to be over two hundred people here.”
Joyce nodded. “I’m thinking the final tally will be around five hundred or so, give or take.”
Having more or less expected as much—there was nothing her mom liked better than a great big party—Kate said carefully, “I had in mind something much more intimate, Mom.”
“Honey, you only get married once. You and Craig should make a big deal of it!”
Kate offered the most practical argument of all. “It’ll be too expensive to have that many guests, Mom.”
Her mom waved away her concerns. “You let me and your father worry about the budget. You just worry about making this the happiest day of your life.”
KATE HAD A HARD TIME seeing how her wedding day was going to be the happiest day of her life when she and her mother were at odds about everything from the place the ceremony was going to be held to the type of reception she should have. Knowing it would serve no purpose to argue with her mother, however, until she had Craig there to weigh in on the process and back her up, Kate put off making any hard and fast decisions about anything for another ten days.
“I feel like we haven’t accomplished anything,” Joyce said as she prepared to leave.
They’d done one thing, Kate thought. They’d figured out just how much there was to do. But sensing her mother didn’t want to hear that, she said, “We narrowed the style of invitation down to four.”
“Which reminds me. We’re going to have to get those ordered as soon as possible.”
That was going to be hard to do until she and Craig selected a date and booked a place for the ceremony and the reception, Kate thought. “Maybe we should just worry about selecting my dress first,” Kate said. “After all, that’s probably one of the important things.”
“If not the most important thing,” Joyce agreed.
“So I’ll see you Thursday morning, at Jenna’s boutique?” Kate said.
Joyce nodded and kissed Kate’s cheek. “You’ve got a date.”
Lewis came tromping down the stairs shortly after Kate’s mom had left. He spied the rectangular cake carrier on the kitchen counter. His face lit up. “Hey, is that my birthday cake?” Not giving Kate a chance to reply, he rushed over to investigate. “I thought everybody forgot it was tomorrow. I’m usually the invisible kid around here. But…” He lifted the lid on the cardboard box and immediately deflated, his slightly uncoordinated legs and arms going still. “Hey. There aren’t any decorations.”
“That’s because it’s not your birthday cake,” Kate said, improvising quickly to spare Lewis’s feelings, because he’d been right on the money, everyone had forgot his twelfth birthday was tomorrow. “It’s just a Texas sheet cake my mother made for you boys. She thought you might like it. Your birthday cake is coming from Isabelle Buchanon’s bakery. I’m to go over to Main Street tomorrow to pick it up.” I’ll call Isabelle tonight, to arrange it. Knowing this was the kind of fib that could be excused, Kate continued, “It was going to be a surprise, but now that you’re in on it, maybe you better confirm for me your favorite flavor just so there are no mistakes.”
Lewis’s eyes lit up excitedly behind his glasses. “Chocolate, with vanilla icing and chocolate sprinkles.”
“Whew!” Kate pressed a hand to her chest. “I’m glad we got that right!”
With the intensity of the budding intellectual he was, Lewis studied her. “You really ordered a cake? Dad really didn’t forget?”
“He didn’t forget,” Kate replied firmly, hoping like hell it was true, because the last thing she wanted to do was to lie to Lewis on Sam’s behalf about something like that. “I didn’t know your birthday was coming up so very soon, but once your father mentioned it… Hey, you know I’d go all out to make the day a really happy one.” And she would, Kate vowed. Even if she was up all night making the arrangements.
Lewis grinned, thoroughly trusting her about that much. “Are you going to tell me what’s going to happen tomorrow, or is it going to be a surprise?”
“A complete surprise.” To Kate, as well.
“Are you even going to give me a hint?”
“I’ll leave that decision to your dad,” Kate decided. First, she and Sam would have to talk privately about when, where and how to celebrate.
Lewis linked his fingers together and rested them on top of his short, rumpled, dark brown hair. “When’s he going to be home?”
“He said it would probably be after ten. I know he’s still working very hard on the California bid. Tell you what. If you want to go back upstairs and play on your computer some more, I’ll let you know when he does get home.”
“Okay. This is so cool. I wasn’t even sure I’d have a birthday celebration this year, on account of mom and everything. After all, we didn’t celebrate Dad’s or Will’s birthdays because everybody was just too sad to have a party.”
Kate’s heart broke at the revelation. “Well, not to worry, sport,” Kate soothed, patting Lewis on the shoulder. “You’re going to have one,” she promised, “and it’s going to be the best twelfth birthday ever.”
As soon as Lewis went back upstairs, Kate took her cell phone and went outside to call Sam. She reached his office easily, but that was as far as she got. His assistant answered the phone, put her on hold, and came back and said Sam was busy. Kate countered it was important, she really needed to speak to him. Once again she was put on hold. The assistant came back on and said unless it involved smoke, blood or a similar life-threatening emergency, it would have to wait until Sam got home, because he was in the midst of delicate negotiations.
Kate decided it could wait. If only because she wanted to see the look on Sam’s face when she told him to see for herself whether he had remembered or not. She was hoping he had. But given what had already transpired she was not betting on it.
“YOU MAY WANT TO CALL Kate Marten before you head home,” one of Sam’s administrative assistants said as he was getting ready to leave the office. “She sounded…well, you should call her back.”
“Did she say what it was about?”
“No. Just that it was about one of the kids and it was urgent.”
“But didn’t involve smoke, fire or illness,” Sam stipulated.
“Right. No one was hurt or sick or anything, and the house hadn’t burned down. I made sure of that.”
Sam had no intention of talking to Kate until he got home. He assumed the boys had gone back to giving her a hard time. Since Ellie died, they never behaved for long. Especially Riley and Brad, who could usually be counted on to cook up some sort of mischief together. Or Will, whose “senioritis” and indifference to the family, in general made him hard to deal with. But none of that necessitated bothering him at work, Sam thought. And Kate needed to learn that. He looked at his assistant. “Do you have those housekeeper résumés for me to look at?”
“Sure thing.” She snatched up a thick manila folder. “I contacted agencies in Oklahoma, Missouri, Arizona and New Mexico, just like you asked. This is what they sent. Plus, here are the responses to the newspaper ads you’ve been running in the Texas papers. As you figured, the Texas employment agencies weren’t interested in sending anyone else out.”
“Thanks.” Sam went to the front of the building, where his limo and driver were waiting, and climbed into the back. He ate his dinner—a steak sandwich from the carry-out down the street—on the ride home, and perused the résumés. Most of the applicants were wrong for the job right off the bat—he could see that from their résumés or letters of recommendation. He needed someone flexible, with great problem-solving skills, and enough energy to keep up with his boys. Someone who wouldn’t call him repeatedly, like Kate Marten. Someone who wouldn’t lecture him or get under his skin the way she did. By the time he arrived home, he had five prospective candidates. He put their résumés aside. He would have one of his assistants call them in the morning and start setting up interviews in Dallas. The sooner he replaced Kate Marten, the better.
And that sentiment was confirmed double time when his limo pulled into the driveway well after twelve-thirty and he saw she had apparently waited up for him. Portable phone pressed to her ear, she was pacing along the side porch, talking.
Sighing, Sam said good-night to his driver and got out of the car. Dreading whatever it was Kate wanted to discuss with him, he headed up the sidewalk to his house.
Kate glanced at Sam, then turned her back and walked farther away from him. Her tense words carried through the silent night. “But you said it was okay.” She paused. “My father’s opinion should not have anything to do with this. No, Craig, I’m not going to change my mind.” Her spine stiffened beneath her short-sleeved, mint-green blouse and matching casual skirt.
Sam didn’t know what she had been doing earlier in the day, but right now she was barefoot and stockingless. Her honey-blond hair was caught up in a clip on the back of her head, her lips missing the usual carefully applied lipstick. She gestured to Sam to stay right where he was, then turned her back on him and continued speaking into the phone in a clipped voice that radiated both anger and hurt. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I’ll talk to you later. Sam’s here now. I have to go, Craig. Goodbye.”
She cut the connection then swung around to him, the portable phone still cradled in her hand.
“You didn’t have to end the call on my account,” Sam said, already heading inside the house. He set his laptop computer and briefcase down next to the front hall table, where the day’s mail was stacked and waiting. “You and I could always talk tomorrow.”
Kate’s chin shot up as she brushed past him and returned the hall phone to its base. She glared at him as he flipped through the day’s mail, taking only what he needed or wanted to read and leaving the junk for someone else to disperse. Kate slapped her hands onto her hips. “No, we need to talk now!”
Sam shot a glance at the living room, which looked like a disaster area, with a dozen or more of her videotapes and cases strewn across the floor. Catching the direction of his gaze, Kate wheeled around and headed for the VCR, which was playing some sort of homemade movie of a local country and western band. She punched the button to stop the tape. Sam could see that Kate was spoiling for a fight. He wasn’t sure it was with him, though. Craig seemed to be the one she wanted to deck. Unfortunately, Craig was on the other side of the earth.
As a rule, Sam liked to let people handle their own problems without interference from him. And yet here was his chance to get under Kate’s skin, the same way she’d been getting under his, by barging in where he had no business. Maybe if the shoe were on the other foot for once, Sam decided, she would realize how it felt to have her private life and feelings pried into, and cease and desist from his. It was worth a shot, anyway.
“So what’s going on?” he prodded as Kate sank to her knees and began to match up music videos and their cases. “Trouble in paradise? Did you two have a fight or what?”
Kate scrambled up off her knees, half a dozen videos in her arms. “If you must know, my father sent Craig an e-mail, telling him that he and my mother thought it was a very bad idea for me to be living here, even temporarily. Something ridiculous about how it might look to people. As if anyone would think there was something going on between you and me!” she fumed, dropping the cases into a box before going back for more.
“Pretty ridiculous, all right,” Sam agreed, even as he couldn’t help but notice her sexy, bare legs. “Besides, I thought Craig was okay with you staying here.”
Kate frowned. “He was until he learned my father and mother were upset, and now he wants me out of here, pronto.”
“You told him how you feel?”
“That I wanted to stay, yes.” Kate swallowed as she hunted around for the case for the last tape.
“And…?”
Kate lifted up the skirt of the sofa and peered beneath it. “He still doesn’t care.”
“Seems to me your feelings about something should be a lot more important to Craig than your parents’,” he said, wishing Kate would quit slithering around on the floor like that. Didn’t she know it hiked up her skirt to an unladylike degree?
“It’s complicated.” Her voice was muffled. And defensive.
“Not that complicated.” Sam turned to the prodigious notes Kate had made on every one of the music videos she had watched. “Craig is marrying you, not your father.”
Kate grabbed the missing case with a triumphant cry and, still clutching it in one hand, struggled to her knees. Breathlessly, she snatched up the lone remaining video and swiftly mated the case and tape. “My father was a mentor to Craig when he was growing up.”
Sam pointed to the clip in her hair, which was hanging sideways and about to fall all the way out. “He was a mentor to me, too, and you don’t see me falling all over myself to please my former football coach.”
Kate set the tape on her lap and reached for the dangling hair clip. “My dad gave Craig the courage to apply to the Air Force Academy, when his own parents didn’t think he had a chance in heck of getting in.”
Sam shrugged. “Your father helped a lot of kids get into a lot of colleges. He helped a lot of guys dream big. None of them is marrying you.”
Kate glared at Sam resentfully as she twisted her hair up, then clipped it. “Are you saying Craig is just marrying me because he likes my dad so much?”
Are you? More aware than ever that Pete’s younger sister was in need of some brotherly “enlightenment” on this score, and Pete wasn’t here to give it, Sam shook his head in a noncommittal manner. “I am just pointing out that Craig’s first allegiance should be to you, Kate.” Craig wasn’t a kid anymore, trying to please his coach, or in this case, his future father-in-law. His loyalty needed to be to Kate. First, foremost and always. “Craig shouldn’t be talking to you about doing what your dad wants,” Sam continued firmly. “Craig should be talking to your dad about what you want. He should be going to bat on your behalf with your father, not the other way around.”
Kate shot to her feet. “Craig does defend me to my father,” she returned hotly.
If that was so, Sam applauded it, because Kate needed someone to stick up for her with her father, to keep Mike from running roughshod over her the way he had with her brother Pete. Unfortunately, Sam didn’t think Craig was doing that. Now or at any time in the past. Because there was something in Kate’s eyes that said he had struck a nerve.
“And, anyway, that’s enough about my problems,” Kate said, seeming desperate to change the subject. She looked Sam square in the eye. “It’s time we talked about yours….”
SAM REGARDED HER with a mixture of contempt and exasperation. “Kate, I’m tired.”
So was she, Kate thought, as well as irked he had blown off her attempt to reach him so they could discuss the birthday plans she was making for his son, but that didn’t change anything. There was a sensitive young man who was counting on them; she wasn’t about to let Lewis down, late hour or not. “Do you know what date it is?”
Sam braced his hands on his waist and continued to regard her in hostile silence. “August first.” He spoke as if he could barely contain his temper.
Kate pushed on, anyway. “And tomorrow is…?”
Guilt flashed across Sam’s face as he muttered a short, self-deprecating oath. “It’s Lewis’s birthday.” His eyes filled with regret. He obviously felt bad he hadn’t remembered.
Gently she said, “I had to go ahead and make some plans. I hope they’re okay.” She really wanted and needed Sam’s involvement in this, and so did his sons.
Sam went back into the front hall, snatched up the mail, his computer and briefcase and headed into his study. “Lewis is the one you have to please.” He switched on his desk lamp and, still standing in front of his desk, tore into one envelope after another. “Did you talk to him?”
“I thought I’d run them by you first.” She followed him over to his desk and, feeling more than just a tad unwanted, stood there opposite him. Certain he was listening to her, even if he wouldn’t look at her directly, she continued. “Will, Brad and Riley are busy at school tomorrow with various extracurricular activities, but Lewis and Kevin are free, so I thought I’d take them to Fredericksburg. They have an excellent military museum that has all sorts of war relics, including planes and tanks and even an old submarine. After we take the tour, we can have lunch in one of the local restaurants.”
Sam looked up with approval.
Kate hesitated. “I didn’t know if you wanted to join us for that…”
The relief in his eyes fading as fast as it had appeared, Sam shook his head. “I’ve got to work.”
Kate nodded. “I figured that would be the case so I made plans for the evening, as well.”
“What kind of plans?” Sam asked gruffly, beginning to look irritated and impatient again.
“I booked a section of the restaurant at Greta McCabe’s dance hall for dinner tomorrow evening. I invited the rest of the McCabes and told the older boys they can invite friends and or bring dates. I didn’t know if you wanted to do anything with only you and the boys this year, but—”
“That won’t be necessary,” Sam interrupted brusquely as he loosened the knot of his tie and sank into the chair behind his desk. “What you have already done sounds fine.”
Kate took a chair in front of him, and crossed her legs at the knee. “I didn’t know what to do about presents.”
“I’ll have my assistant take care of that tomorrow.” Sam regarded her brusquely. “Anything else?” he asked in a short, clipped tone.
As far as he was concerned, Kate thought, their conversation was already over. Probably had been before she had even entered the room. “Just one more thing.” Kate’s heartbeat picked up as she regarded Sam steadily. Even though she knew Sam was likely to take offense at it, she knew this had to be said. “Lewis thought everyone had forgotten his birthday. I told him that wasn’t so.” An ache rose in Kate’s throat as she continued with difficulty, “I thought he’d suffered enough hurt this year, without feeling like he didn’t matter, too. Which, by the way, is exactly how he does feel.”
Sam went very still. “He told you that?”
Kate nodded. “He said he’s usually the invisible kid around here. I thought you should be aware he feels left out.”
“And for that you’re blaming me?” Sam attested angrily, getting to his feet.
Kate stood, too, and leaned across the desk toward him. “You’re misunderstanding what I’m trying to say here, Sam.”
His expression hard and unforgiving, Sam remained where he was. “Oh, I think I read you right,” he said curtly. His eyebrows slammed together. “The boys are not happy. And you think it’s all my fault.”
Going into battle with her would not only stop Sam from examining just how “abandoned” his sons really felt, it would give Sam a good and necessary outlet for his anger. Her. She wasn’t about to make it that easy on him. “They lost their mom,” she said evenly, working to keep their conversation on task.
“Exactly.” Sam looked at her with such loathing her skin went clammy. “And that’s never going to change.”
“But, Sam, if you’d just talk to—” Kate tried again.
Sam grimaced and looked at her with all the intensity of a soldier facing down the enemy. He came across the desk until they were nearly nose to nose. “It wouldn’t hurt any less, Kate,” he said icily. “And if you think it would, you’re wrong.”
“Why do you have to take offense at everything I say about this?” she demanded, furious.
“Maybe because you’re wrong?”
Aware they were suddenly standing much too close, Kate took an involuntary step backward. It wasn’t far enough. She could still feel the heat of his fury emanating from his skin.
“I am not!” Kate said.
Sam’s glance hardened all the more. “If you don’t like the way I do things, you’re welcome to leave at any time.”
“And that wouldn’t bother you a bit, would it?” Kate retorted, hurt. Wondering, even as she spoke, why she had ever thought there was even an outside chance he might be grateful for what she was doing to help him get his and his boys’ lives back on track. Sam barely saw her, never mind acknowledged what she was doing for them, and for Ellie. He wasn’t about to meet her—or anyone else, it seemed—halfway.
In answer to her question, Sam said, “I’m looking for someone else as we speak. As soon as I find that person, you’re out of here.” His eyes raked her with contempt and the disdain in his low voice made her want to cringe. “So it really doesn’t matter what I feel about you or anything else. Does it?”