Summer Texas Bride

by Katie Lane

  She leaned down and scooped up the kitten that was rubbing against the bandage on her ankle. “And talk about babies. How are you doing, Watson? Have you learned to use the litter box yet or are you still taking a poop in Waylon’s running shoes?” She held up the kitten and touched its velvety nose to hers. “Between you and me, keep up the good work. That man is way too big for his britches.”

  Granny Bon laughed as she stepped in the door. “I wish you were as good with people as you are with animals.”

  Summer lowered the kitten and cuddled it close to her chest. “What are you talking about? I’m good with people.”

  Granny Bon snorted. “I don’t know where you get your crazy ideas, Summer Lynn.” She carried Summer’s suitcase into the living room. “Come on and let’s get you settled so I can get back to the ranch and help Gracie get those sweet babies fed and to bed. They’ve started walking and are more than a handful.”

  Granny Bon made up the couch for Summer so she wouldn’t have to deal with the stairs. Once Summer was on the couch with her foot propped up and a cup of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup, Granny kissed her on the head. “I know taking it easy is hard for you, Sweet Pea. But if you let yourself relax, you just might enjoy it.”

  Once Granny Bon was gone, Summer tried to relax. She really did. But how could she relax when there was nothing to do? She flipped on the television and tried to get interested in a show. But all she could seem to find were silly reality shows about crazy families and even crazier housewives. Then she tried flipping through a home décor magazine she found on the coffee table, but she had never been interested in home décor. That was Autumn. Autumn could make any place a home with three throw pillows and a couple of scented candles.

  Thinking of her sister had her pulling out her cellphone. Autumn was on her way back to Houston in a rental car, and Summer had a list of things she wanted her to take care of when she got to the store. Unfortunately, her sister didn’t answer. Summer thought about texting her, but the memory of the accident was too fresh in her mind. She certainly didn’t want her little sister to end up in a wreck because she was texting. Not that Autumn would ever text and drive. She was much too careful for that. Which probably explained why she wasn’t answering her cellphone either.

  Summer thought about texting Ryker, but then vetoed the idea. She needed to take a step back from Ryker. Maybe a couple steps. Between the sex and the accident, he was getting a little too close for comfort. She hadn’t missed the heated look he’d given her when she’d wiggled her toes at him to prove her ankle wasn’t broken. Nor had she missed the reciprocal heat that had filled her body. They were sexually attracted to each other. There was no doubt about it. And if he were any other man, she might give in to that attraction and have a summer affair to remember.

  But he wasn’t just any other man. He was her brother’s best friend. Which meant that he would probably attend a lot of family functions and celebrations. If they had a summer fling that ended on a bad note, she might have to deal with seeing him for the rest of her life. And all her relationships seemed to end on a bad note.

  She knew why. She wasn’t good at break-ups. She was too blunt. Too honest. Too ready to bring things to an end. Spring and Autumn could break up with a guy and remain friends with their ex-boyfriends. When Summer broke up with a guy, they seemed to hate her. Like really hate her. And she couldn’t deal with staring across a Thanksgiving table and seeing Ryker mad-dogging her over the turkey and dressing. Now all she had to deal with was a drunken one-night stand that neither one of them remembered clearly.

  She slipped her phone back in her purse and zipped it shut. “No texting Ryker.” She looked at Sherlock and Watson to get their approval, but Sherlock was sound asleep, and Watson was busying batting a cat toy around the floor.

  Feeling like she would jump out of her skin if she had to sit there one second longer, Summer threw back the blanket Granny Bon had covered her with and got up. Her ankle was tender, but not tender enough that she needed her crutches.

  She’d only been to Waylon and Spring’s house a couple times. Once for their rehearsal dinner, and the following morning when Spring had almost forgotten her own wedding. Both times, she hadn’t paid much attention to her surroundings. Now she took her time looking around.

  It really was an old rambling house. The first floor had a living room, family room, kitchen, half bath, and screened porch. The basement had a laundry room and a spooky furnace. The second floor had five bedrooms and two bathrooms. And the attic had a cluttered storage area and a big room with an old sofa and rows and rows of books.

  Summer had never been much of a reader. She’d always had trouble sitting still for long periods of time. But since her only other choices were reality television and décor magazines, she walked over to the bookshelves and browsed the titles. She pulled out a mystery and took it over to the sofa, but after only a few minutes of reading, she returned it to the shelf and switched it for a book with a half-naked cowboy on the cover.

  She expected hot sex. She had not expected a well-written love story that held her attention from the first page. She was so involved in the lonely rancher and his new feisty neighbor that she lost track of the time. When Sherlock loped into the room and barked, she started as if he’d woken her up from a catnap.

  She glanced at the windows and saw that the sun was setting. Which meant she’d been reading for a couple hours. That was a record for Summer.

  Sherlock started to whine, and she realized that he needed to go out. She left the book and got up and hobbled to the door. On the way down the stairs, they ran into Watson, who was struggling to get up the stairs to follow his friend. Summer scooped up the kitten and carried him outside with Sherlock. She set him down on the grass, then sat on the back-porch stoop and waited for Sherlock to do his business.

  The yard and the neighbors’ yards were all unfenced and blended together to make one big grassy area that looked like a lush park. In the middle of the yard was a big oak tree with a swing. And on the side was a fenced-in garden.

  A screen door slammed, and Summer glanced over to Ms. Marble house. The woman’s house was much smaller than Waylon and Spring’s. It looked like a little gingerbread house. Which was fitting since Ms. Marble was the town baker. But she wasn’t baking now. She was just standing on her porch watching the sunset. It was a pretty sunset. The sky was the color of Granny Bon’s favorite orange marmalade.

  “Hello, Ms. Marble!” Summer called.

  Ms. Marble glanced over but didn’t answer. She looked confused. Like she didn’t know Summer. Or maybe she was just trying to figure out which triplet she was.

  She stood. “It’s me. Summer.”

  Ms. Marble still looked confused. “Summer?”

  Instantly concerned, Summer hobbled down the steps and walked across the yard to Ms. Marble’s. As she drew near, she became even more alarmed. Ms. Marble looked pale and shaky.

  “Ms. Marble?” Summer said. “Are you okay?”

  Ms. Marble shook her head. “I came out here for something, but I can’t remember what.” She swayed like she was going to fall.

  Summer took her arm to steady her. Her skin was cold and clammy. “Are you sick?”

  Ms. Marble shook her head. “No. I . . . I don’t know. There’s something I’m forgetting.”

  “Come on inside and sit down. I promise we’ll figure it out.” She led Ms. Marble inside the kitchen and sat her down in a chair. Then she picked up the phone on the counter and called Granny Bon. It was the right thing to do. Granny knew immediately what was wrong.

  “She’s a diabetic, and it sounds like she’s going into diabetic shock. Ask her if she’s taken her shot today. If she has, then you need to give her some fruit juice or a cookie. You need to get her blood sugar balanced. If you can’t, Summer Lynn, you need to call an ambulance. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Once she’d hung up, she turned to Ms. Marble. “Did you take your insulin shot, Ms. Ma
rble?”

  Ms. Marble nodded. “I always do.”

  Summer raced to the refrigerator to look for fruit juice. There wasn’t any. She glanced around. There were no cookies, but there were dozens of cupcakes. She picked up a frosted one and held it out to Ms. Marble.

  “Oh, I can’t eat sweets, Summer. I’m a diabetic.”

  “Which is exactly why you need to eat this. Like right now. It’s your blood sugar, Ms. Marble. We have to get it up.”

  That seemed to register with her. She quickly ate the cupcake. Only a few minutes later, her skin got some color and her eyes cleared.

  “That was it,” Mrs. Marble said. “I got so busy with the cupcakes for Rosie Green’s baby shower that I forgot to eat after I took my shot.” She shook her head. “I should know better than that.”

  Summer wilted down into a chair at the table and released her breath. “I’m just glad you’re feeling better.”

  “And I’m just glad you were here.” Ms. Marble patted Summer’s hand that rested on the table. “If you hadn’t been, this old woman might’ve gone to meet her maker before she was ready.”

  The thought of Ms. Marble dying made Summer concerned all over again. “Maybe you should go to the doctor.”

  “I will if my levels aren’t right.” She got up. “I’ll go check them now. You go on home, Summer. I’ll be fine.”

  Summer shook her head. “Sorry, but I can’t do that. If anything happened to you, Granny Bon would send me to my maker.”

  Ms. Marble laughed. “In that case, help yourself to some iced tea from the fridge.” She glanced at Summer’s wrapped ankle. “And please put your foot up on a chair. I feel guilty that you had to come to my rescue when you’re recovering from your bad accident.”

  “It wasn’t that bad. Just a few stitches and a twisted ankle. Now you better go test your blood.”

  After Ms. Marble was gone, Summer got up to check on Sherlock and Watson. They had followed her over to Ms. Marble’s and were sitting on the back porch. Not knowing if Ms. Marble wanted pets in her house, she left them there and got herself some iced tea from the fridge. As she was sipping it, she looked around at all the cupcakes. Only about a dozen were frosted. Which meant that Ms. Marble still had her work cut out for her.

  Summer set down her iced tea and picked up the piping bag filled with frosting and got to work. By the time Ms. Marble came back downstairs, Summer had most of the cupcakes frosted. Ms. Marble seemed more than surprised.

  “These are beautiful, Summer.” She lifted a cupcake covered in pretty pink blossoms. “Where in the world did you learn how to use a piping bag like that?”

  She continued to pipe as she answered. “My junior year of high school I took a cake decorating class so I could beat out Sarah McDonnell for senior class president.”

  Ms. Marble moved the last tray of cupcakes to the table and pointed to the chair. “How would taking a cake decorating class get you elected class president?”

  Summer finished the cupcake she was working on before she sat down at the table, put her foot up, and started on the last tray. “Sarah’s father owned a bakery. That was the only reason she was elected class president every year. She gave away free cupcakes during the elections. She beat me three years running with those dang cupcakes.”

  “So you took cake decorating classes so you could make your own cupcakes and beat her?”

  “And baking. I wanted my cupcakes to taste as good as they looked. It worked. I beat the pants off Sarah with my mocha-chocolate-cream cupcakes with hazelnut frosting.” She swirled the tip of piping bag. “Of course, it wasn’t easy baking and decorating a cupcake for every person in my senior class. Nor was it easy getting Autumn and Spring to help. When Granny Bon found out I had talked my sisters into cupcake slavery, she made me do their chores for a month.”

  Ms. Marble laughed, then took the tray Summer had just finished and set it back on the counter. “After all that work, I hope you enjoyed the position.”

  “Actually, it wasn’t as much fun as I thought it would be.”

  “Ahh.”

  “Ahh what?” Summer asked.

  Ms. Marble turned, and her knowing blue eyes pinned Summer. “You didn’t really want to be the class president, Summer. You just wanted to prove that you could be.”

  Chapter Nine

  “Admit it, Dirk. You planned this entire thing.”

  Dirk’s laughter came through the receiver of Ryker’s cellphone. “You actually think I had my sister rear end you?”

  “Not that part. That part was an accident. But you planned everything after that. Like running off to Dallas to cover for me at Headhunters before I could stop you, and having Granny Bon take me hostage so I couldn’t leave Bliss. You wanted me stuck here so I’d find out what a great town Bliss is and decide to build a call center here.”

  “That would be nice. A new center would bring more jobs, people, and revenue to the town. But that’s not why I’m here in Dallas. I’m here because the last thing you need to be doing after a neck injury is sitting at a desk for twelve to fourteen hours a day working on your computer. And as far as Granny Bon goes, my grandmother hasn’t taken you hostage.”

  Ryker glanced at the door of the guestroom in Dirk’s house, expecting to see Granny Bon with a tray of more food or something else to rub on his neck. It was a relief that the doorway was empty.

  “You want to make a bet?” he said “The woman showed up at the hospital this morning and pretty much shanghaied me. She had the hospital orderly wheel me right out the front door to what I thought would be my waiting car. But she informed me that some guy named Emmett had towed my car to Austin to get the fender fixed. In the meantime, she’d be happy to drive me wherever I wanted to go. Which was a lie, because when I asked her to take me to Bliss Motor Lodge, she flat out refused.”

  Again, Dirk laughed. “You can’t stop my grandmother when she gets something in her head. And I agree with her. It would be wrong to make my best friend recuperate at a motel when I have plenty of room now that Autumn’s headed back to Houston and Summer is taking care of Spring’s house.”

  Summer. She hadn’t texted him once since she’d left his hospital room. Not one unprofessional question about what he was wearing. Not even one professional question about setting up a time to talk about her business plan. And when he had texted her to set up a time, she hadn’t answered.

  And maybe that was for the best. He was getting a little too infatuated with Dirk’s big sister.

  “I appreciate you and Granny Bon being concerned and wanting to help me out, Dirk,” he said. “But I’m okay. Really. The MRI came back showing no broken bones. I’m just a little sore.” He moved his neck as if to prove it. It hurt, but not nearly as much as it had the day before.

  “You should still take a few days off. Especially since I’m already here, Ryker.”

  “But you need to get back to Gracie and the babies.”

  There was a pause. “You’ll probably think this is a really crappy thing to say, but I’m kind of enjoying the break. I got to sleep straight through the entire night last night. I’m telling you, it was a game changer. For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like I’m walking around in a fog. When I get back, I’m sending Gracie on a girls’ trip with her cousins. As much as we adore our little nuggets, they are a handful and we need to take breaks every now and again. Besides, helping you out alleviates the guilt I feel over the accident.”

  “The key word being ‘accident.’ That’s exactly what it was, Dirk. You don’t need to feel responsible. No one does.”

  There was a stretch of silence before Dirk spoke. “Summer was texting when she hit you, Rye.” He blew out his breath. “That girl has really lost it. And I gotta tell you that I’m pretty worried about her.”

  “A lot of people text while they drive. It’s not like Summer was doing something crazy—stupid, yes. Crazy, no. And I think she’s learned her lesson.”

  “Let’s hope so. But it’s
not just her texting that has me worried.” There was another pause. “She told me she’d gone into town to get coffee the morning of the accident. And when the diner wasn’t open, she was on her way home when she hit you. I bought it, at first. Summer does love her coffee. But I did a lot of thinking on my drive to Dallas, and there are parts of her story that don’t fit.”

  Ryker didn’t like where this was going. “It sounds like it fits to me. I stopped by the diner to get coffee too that morning and it was closed.”

  “I’m not talking about the diner. I’m talking about other things. Why was she up that early? She usually sleeps in when she doesn’t have to be at the store. And why was she dressed in her maid-of-honor gown? She said she just grabbed the first thing she found when she got up.”

  “I’m sure that was it. You can’t really think clearly when you need caffeine.”

  Dirk wasn’t falling for it. “Summer does like coffee, but she also hates dresses. A dress and high heels would be the last thing she’d grab to wear. The only other explanation for her still being in her dress is that she didn’t go to bed early like Autumn said. Instead, she left the reception and didn’t come back all night.”

  Ryker cleared his throat. “But where would she have gone?”

  “Gracie said that the last time she saw Summer, she was headed off to dance with that asshole of a cowboy.”

  “You don’ t think that she spent the night with him, do you?”

  “Why else would she lie? And this just makes me even more concerned about her. Summer is not the type to sleep around.”

  “Maybe she got a little drunk. It happens.”

  “She’s always been able to hold her liquor. It’s Autumn who gets drunk on a thimble full of beer. But I’ll tell you one thing. When I find out what happened—and I will find out—if that cowboy got her drunk and then took advantage, I’m going to kick his ass from one end of town to the other.”

  Ryker rubbed his temples. He did need his ass kicked. Not only for having sex with Summer, but also for lying to his best friend. He wanted to come clean, but he couldn’t. Dirk would only kick his ass for telling the truth. Summer would kill him.