A Family Kind of Wedding (22 page)

“Okay. To the baby and
her
big sister,” Katie amended.

“What? Nothing for the mother?” Bliss stuck out her lower lip until she couldn't help giggling.

“You get the best part. You get to be a mother,” Katie said, “and change diapers, get no sleep, worry yourself silly and…I'm only kidding. It's the most wonderful feeling in the world.”

“I'm already a mother,” Bliss said, cocking her head toward Dee Dee. “Well, kind of.”

The girl nodded enthusiastically, and Katie was amazed at how quickly Mason's daughter had taken to Bliss. But then, who wouldn't? Bliss Lafferty was special. “Well, listen, I'm going to throw you the biggest, most lavish baby shower Bittersweet has ever seen!” She pointed a finger at Dee Dee's small nose. “You can help me give it—you and Aunt Tiffany.”

“Can I really?”

“Really and truly.” Katie took a long swallow from her glass. “This is the best news I've had in weeks.”

“Speaking of which,” Bliss asked as Dee Dee discovered Blue, and dog and girl dashed out the back door. “Who was on the telephone?”

“Oh. That.” Katie's good mood instantly shattered. “That was Ralph Sorenson.”

“Who?” Bliss's features pulled together as she tried to remember the name and came up blank.

“Dave Sorenson's father. You wouldn't know him, they lived here only a little while.”

“Sorenson? Isn't that the guy who owned the place Luke Gates bought? I drew those blueprints for him, and it seems like I remember the name.”

“Small world, isn't it? Anyway, Dave was Josh's father. I just found out a week or so ago that…that Dave's gone…I mean, he's, uh, dead.” Her heart squeezed again at the horrid thought. “Died in a helicopter crash a few months back.”

“What?”
Bliss eyed Katie as if she'd just sprouted horns. “Wait a minute. Slow down and start over. From the beginning.”

Fighting a losing battle with tears, Katie obliged, and as she told her story, she felt as if a great weight, a burden, was slowly being lifted from her shoulders. For the first time in her life she understood the depth of a sister's love, the special bond that exists between sisters in times of joy or sorrow. Who else would listen to her and empathize when she poured out her heart and unburdened her soul?

Bliss listened and chewed on her lip. “Unbelievable,” she said when Katie had finished. “What're you going to do?”

“Talk to Josh and try to get him to accept Dave's family. I was afraid that they might want custody or something, but I don't think so. They just want to know their grandson.”

“Well, if there's anything Mason or I can do, just call and let us know.”

“I will. But I think we're okay, as long as Josh quits blaming me for not telling him the truth. This is my problem. I can handle it.” The words sounded much stronger than she felt, but she and Josh had weathered storms before; they'd get through this. “You know the old saying—something about that which doesn't kill us makes us stronger.”

“Words to live by,” Bliss murmured, and Katie changed the subject.

“Let's get back to the baby,” she said, sliding into a chair at the table. “I think we should have the shower about a month before the blessed event…” She threw herself into discussing the joyful topic at hand and turned her thoughts away from Ralph Sorenson and his interest in Josh right now. There was a chance that Josh knowing his paternal grandparents would be a blessing, but there was also the risk that it would turn into a disaster, that the Sorensons would become overbearing and insist upon being an integral part of his life. Katie told herself not to borrow trouble and was already mentally organizing the baby shower when the phone rang.

“I'd better get it,” she said to Bliss. “It could be Josh. This is his first day back at soccer practice.” She snagged the phone on the third ring and silently prayed that the caller wasn't Ralph Sorenson again. “Hello?”

“I'm calling about the ad you ran in the paper.”

Her heart nearly leaped from her chest. For a second she'd wondered if the male voice on the other end of the line belonged to Isaac Wells.

“Yeah, I'm looking for a place to rent, so can you tell me more about the house?”

“Oh.” Her excitement dropped. But she couldn't be disappointed, because she needed to rent her cottage. She gave the man a quick description of the house and grounds, quoted him the rent and terms, then asked his name.

“Ben Francis. I'm married, but me and the wife don't have any kids yet. No pets, neither. If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to see the place as soon as possible.”

“I could meet you there at—” She checked the clock over the stove, mentally calculated when Josh would be home, and said, “Around seven tonight if that works for you.”

There was a pause, and for a reason she couldn't name, Katie felt a moment of doubt, had the odd sensation that something wasn't quite right.

“That would be good,” he finally agreed just as the timer on the oven dinged loudly, and Bliss, grabbing a pot holder lying on the counter, took over the duty of removing the steaming pan of savory chicken.

“Let me give you the address,” Katie offered, ready to rattle it off.

“No need. Got it this afternoon, from the sign on the front lawn.”

She hesitated. “But I thought you got the information from the paper.” Was it her always-overactive imagination or was something wrong here?

There was a beat of silence. “I did. Once I saw the sign, I checked out the ads in the
Review
to find out how much the rent was. Then I called you.”

“Oh.” Why the devil was she always so suspicious? “All right, Mr. Francis—”

“Ben.”

“Ben. I'll see you there.”

She hung up slowly and read the questions in her half sister's eyes. “Someone who wants to rent the old place,” she said thoughtfully.

“Someone you know?”

She shook her head.

“Ever heard of him before?”

“No, but before I hand over the keys, I'll check his references.”

“Do that,” Bliss advised as she drew in a deep breath of fragrant steam escaping from the hot pan. “This—” she pointed at the pieces of chicken “—smells like heaven.”

“Does it?” Katie was pleased. “One of Mom's old recipes. I'm really not much of a cook.” She winked at Dee Dee, who'd entered the kitchen, followed by Blue. “Don't tell Josh. He hasn't figured it out yet.”

Dee Dee giggled, and Blue, smelling the food, whined near the counter.

“Ever hopeful,” Katie observed.

Bliss drained her glass and scraped her chair back as a station wagon filled with rowdy boys pulled into the driveway. Blue barked excitedly, clamoring to be let outside as Josh climbed out of the fold-down third seat and waved to his teammates. His face was flushed, his hair matted with sweat, but he wasn't limping.

“I think we'd better be taking off,” Bliss said. “Mason will be home soon, and, unlike you, Ms. Kinkaid, I don't have dinner ready. I think it'll be take-out Chinese.”

Dee Dee wrinkled her nose.

“Oh, come on,” Bliss said, giving the girl's slim shoulders a hug as Josh shouldered open the door and dropped his soccer bag in the middle of the floor. “I bet you'll like the fried shrimp.”

“You could stay,” Katie offered.

“I'll take a rain check. We just wanted to stop by and give you the good news.”

“Congratulations.” They hugged and Katie's heart swelled. When she'd first learned she had two half sisters, she'd been wary, not certain of her feelings, especially since Bliss had been pampered and preened—John Cawthorne's “princess.” But, being ever pragmatic, Katie had decided to make the best of the situation, and from the minute she'd pushed herself into Bliss's life, insisting that both she and Tiffany be accepted, she hadn't regretted it for a minute. Today was proof positive that a loving family—no matter how tattered and shredded and pulled apart—was the greatest gift in life.

* * *

Luke eyed the pile of dry earth that had been scraped away from the building site. Kicking at a dirt clod, he examined the dig and was satisfied with the progress. The excavation would be finished in two days; the setting of forms for the concrete foundation that would link the existing buildings was scheduled thereafter, and by the end of next week the framing crew would be at work. He wanted everything done immediately, of course, but knew better.

As he squared his hat on his head and walked to the stables, he reminded himself that patience was a virtue—one that had eluded him for most of his life. He reached through the slats of the fence and twisted on the faucet for the water trough. Clear water gushed through ancient pipes and spilled into the metal drum, splashing noisily. Several mares lifted their heads at the sound. A light bay with black ears nickered in his direction.

“Hello to you, too, Trudy,” he said and felt a sense of belonging, of finally having a place in the world he could call home.

It was just a damned shame that he'd be doing it alone. For the first time since his divorce from Celia, he experienced a need to be connected, to be a part of something bigger than just himself. It was an odd sensation, really—one he'd hoped he would avoid for the rest of his life and that, he suspected, had more than a little to do with Katie Kinkaid. That mite of a woman had bored herself under his skin, and he found himself thinking about her far too much.

“So stop it,” he ordered. She was just a woman. Angry with himself, he twisted off the faucet and saw that the stock seemed settled down. The foals cavorted, running and bucking and nipping at each other while their more sedate dams, ears flicking at each sound, tails forever switching at flies, grazed and generally ignored the antics of their spindly,legged offspring.

It was a peaceful existence right now, though an influx of guests, ranch hands and house staff would change that sense of tranquility in the months to come. But then money was money, and somehow this place had to support itself.

“Good night, ladies,” he said, but the horses didn't pay any attention. “See y'all tomorrow.”

Shoving his rawhide gloves into the back pocket of his jeans, he strode to his pickup and climbed into the cab. Though the windows had been left down, the interior was sweltering. A confused horsefly buzzed angrily between the dash and windshield before finally stumbling upon the open window.

“Good riddance.” Luke ground the ignition, jammed the rig into gear and headed for town. Dust and exhaust billowed in his wake, and he thought of Katie. Damn, but he'd love to get her into his bed again. He envisioned her dark red hair, spread around a face that was flushed with desire, imagined kissing the freckles on the bridge of her nose, saw vividly in his mind's eye her swift intake of breath and seductively parted lips as he thrust deep inside her and began making slow, sensuous love.

“Cut it out,” he growled. At the end of the lane he noticed that his crotch was suddenly uncomfortable, his arousal stiff, and he wondered if he'd spend the rest of his life fantasizing about that sharp-tongued-but-beautiful woman. He looked into the rearview mirror, saw his own eyes and then barked out a humorless laugh. If he didn't know better, he'd think he was in love.

Yeah, and you sold her and her boy out for money. Some lover you turned out to be!

Maybe it was time to tell her the truth. His fingers tightened over the steering wheel. She might hate him for the rest of her natural life, but, be that as it may, it was a risk he had to take.

Yep, he'd face her, tell her the truth, and the devil take the consequences.

* * *

“I should be back in about an hour,” Katie told Josh, who was grumbling about having to do the dishes. “Maybe sooner. I'm going to the old house to try and rent it.” He didn't respond, and she touched him lightly on the shoulder. “You can come with me if you want.”

“Naw.” He shook his head.

“Okay. Ellie—Mrs. Ellingsworth—downstairs, is home, and she said she'd look in on you if you'd like.”

“I'll be okay.”

“'Course you will.” Katie rumpled his hair, which was still wet from the shower he'd taken before they'd sat down to dinner. For the first time in a week he'd actually talked to her, told her about soccer practice and a new kid he'd met at school, then even brought up Dave, asking a few questions about him. Eventually she'd offered Josh the opportunity of meeting his paternal grandparents. Josh was interested but wary. They were strangers to him, but he'd agreed to meet them. Soon.
One step at a time,
she reminded herself, since Josh had been forced to face a truckload of issues this past couple of weeks.

Placing a rental agreement and application into a side pocket of her purse, she headed outside just as Blue, who had been lying docilely on the porch, jumped up and made a racket, startling the blue jays that had collected on the eaves. The birds squawked and fluttered off.

Luke's truck rolled into the drive, and Katie's heartbeat began to notch up a bit. She set her jaw and marched over to the pickup as he, in worn jeans and a frayed shirt that he hadn't bothered to button, swung out of the cab.

“Ms. Kinkaid,” he drawled, his sexy-as-all-get-out crooked grin growing from one side of his square jaw to the other. “You look like you're about to spit nails.”

“That would be a good way to describe it,” she agreed, throwing out a hip as Blue, finished with his alarm barking, began sniffing the grill and running boards of Luke's truck.

“At me?” He feigned innocence.

“You'd be a primary target, yes.”

“Is there a reason?” But his eyes belied him, and she saw in their blue depths a hint of worry.

“Ralph Sorenson called today.”