"I don't know how to do that."
"Here." She went into the bathroom, returned with a wet washcloth, and bathed Ashley's rosy tear- stained face. "A smile is as important as pretty hair," she told her, and gave her another hug. "Let's see that pretty smile."
Ashley gave her a weak but valiant smile.
"That's my girl. Now sit on the stool over here."
The child climbed onto the wooden stool and Taylor ran to bring Heather a comb and brush. "Will you do mine, too? Please?" Heather nodded, removed the hair band from the current braid and set to work, feeling Mitch's penetrating gaze the entire time.
Finished at last, she admired the results and the girls thanked her.
Feeling foolish, Mitch walked her to the door. "It's not that often that we have a hair emergency. I suppose it'll happen more and more the older they get."
"I can teach you how."
Capable, efficient Heather. He shrugged noncommitally. It was better that he kept his distance, though he'd realized it a little late. He shouldn't have allowed his better judgment to be impaired by his raging physical hunger for her. She'd warned him a dozen times. He'd ignored the warnings, believing he could handle his head and his feelings and his heart.
But no.
He knew his own character. He'd rationalized his inability for casual flings when Trina had come on to him. He'd known then that he couldn't involve his body without his head. He'd known the same where
Heather was concerned, too, but he hadn't detoured. Some irrationally foggy part of his brain had imagined that she'd fall for him. That she'd be unable to live without him.
What a jerk.
If there was a jerk hall of fame, he'd be this year's inductee. "I'll see you later," he said.
With a sideways glance, she moved out onto the porch and down the stairs.
"Heather?"
She paused and turned.
"Thank you."
She nodded and went on. "You're welcome."
Mitch loaded the girls into his truck, even though they had plenty of time before the barbecue started. They would arrive early and he could help with preparations. If he stayed here much longer, it would be logical to ride together, and he didn't want to put either of them in the position of being seen together and having anyone make assumptions.
Mitch had been thinking more and more about a permanent move to Whitehorn. It was perfectly logical and natural. His step-siblings were scattered across the states and his mother and stepfather were retired and wanted to travel now. Garrett, Mitch's newfound brothers and land of his own were a draw he couldn't deny.
But Heather had no intention of staying in Whitehorn. She couldn't wait to get back to California. These feelings for her had nowhere to grow. Planting them and nurturing them could only mean pain. He knew the heartbreak of loss firsthand, and he couldn't bear it again.
Garrett had hired a rental company to set up tables and chairs in the shade beside the house. Directed by Leanne Redstone, several efficient-looking men and woman were making drinks and setting out stacks of plates. A hog was roasting on an open spit.
"That's gross!" Taylor made a face that plainly showed her disgust. "Why did they do that to that pig?"
"That's what pigs are for," he explained. "We eat pork all the time, but it's made into bacon and chops and roasts and ham and you just don't see the whole thing."
"Ham is not so a pig."
"What is it, then?"
"It's meat."
He'd be wise to shut up or he'd have another food trauma on his hands. "You don't have to eat it. You don't even have to look at it."
"I can't stop looking at it. It's terrible!"
"It is terrible, Daddy," Ashley agreed.
"It is pretty gross," he admitted after another assessing glance. "I don't think I'll eat any, either."
"Can't they cover him up?"
"I'll ask Grandpa," Mitch replied. He distracted them by setting up the croquet game and practicing shots.
Mitch noticed a dark blue, newer-model car winding up the drive toward the house. He left the girls for a moment and walked toward the slowing vehicle. A door opened and a long-limbed, voluptuous blonde climbed out.
The front door opened and Collin stepped out of the house at the same time Mitch reached the woman.
"Can I help you? Are you here for the barbecue?" Mitch asked, though her dark green suit wasn't attire for a backyard get-together.
"I don't think I'd get a warm reception at a Kincaid gathering," she replied with a wry smile. "I've come to deliver papers to Garrett." The folder she held verified her business. She stretched a hand toward Mitch. "Hope Baxter."
Mitch introduced himself and shook her hand.
Collin took her hand next, and it seemed to Mitch that the contact was drawn out a little too long. His half brother studied the young woman with interest. "Nice to meet you. I'm Collin Kincaid."
Her soft blue-gray eyes returned the perusal. Finally she pulled her hand away.
"Hope is Jordan's daughter," Collin said to Mitch. "His attorney, actually."
The connection clicked in Mitch's mind. This woman was handling the legal details to keep them from inheriting the ranch. Naturally Garrett wouldn't have invited her to the party. But how could Mitch have known?
"That's right," she said with a lift of her aristocratic chin. "And I'm good at my job, so don't get too fond of this place."
Her challenging words roused Mitch's ire. but Collin simply offered her an engaging smile. 'Til see that my grandfather gets the papers."
Hope handed him the folder. "Make sure that you do."
She turned and walked back to her car, opened the door and gracefully slid behind the wheel.
"My, my, my, my, my," Collin said on an exhaled breath. "Did you see those eyes?"
"Collin, she's Jordan's attorney," Mitch reminded him. "She's trying to keep our grandfather from getting this land."
"She doesn't look so tough to me,'" he replied, watching the car disappear.
"Yeah, well, looks are deceiving."
Collin fingered the manila folder. "Seen the old man lately?"
"A while back he was directing a canopy setup You might find him behind the house."
Collin headed off and Mitch returned to the twins.
About an hour later cars and trucks started arriving, parking around the house and barns. Guests spilled onto the lawn. Mitch met more of his cousins, talked and joked with his brothers, and kept an eye on the girls.
Summer and Trina arrived together. Trina spotted Mitch and made her way to where he stood wiping watermelon juice from Taylor's arms.
She greeted him warmly. "These are your daughters?"
He nodded. "This is Taylor and this is Ashley. Girls, this is Trina."
"How do you tell them apart?"
He was used to the question from strangers. Oddly enough, Heather had never asked. "Once you get to know them, it's no problem. Ashley's eyes are a little wider. Taylor's chin is narrower."
"I can't see it." She wore a pair of hip-hugging jean shorts and a midriff-baring T-shirt that would have fit his daughters. She leaned down to look into their faces.
Taylor frowned and Mitch held his breath.
"I've been really busy at the Bolton ranch," he said. Why did he feel the need to explain himself to Trina? He certainly hadn't led her on. Quite the contrary.
She straightened. "I figured that. The job almost finished?"
"A couple more weeks, probably. I'm staying out there, so I haven't been around much."
"I've been staying at home a lot," she said. She glanced at the girls, then leaned close to whisper, "This murder thing has me creeped out."
Mitch had followed some of the details of the murder of Christina Montgomery and the subsequent investigation. "What's happening?" he asked.
"The police arrested Gavin Nighthawk. He's set to stand trial soon. Summer is sure he's innocent. She's beside herself over it. But if it wasn't him, then a killer is still
on the loose."
"How does Summer know this Nighthawk guy?"
"She spent summers on the Laughing Horse Reservation where he grew up. Now they're both in residency at Whitehorn Memorial Hospital. I think she's got a thing for him."
Mitch scanned the crowd and found Summer and his grandfather off to the side of the gathering. She seemed agitated and was speaking to him, her hand on his wrist.
As Mitch watched, Garrett gathered her comfortingly against his side and patted her shoulder.
"Mitch!" He turned toward the male voice. Cade was striding toward him, with a couple Mitch had never seen in tow. "Meet my brother, Ryder and his wife, Daisy. They're up from Texas and showing off their new little guy."
Mitch shook Ryder's hand and admired the baby. Trina asked if she could hold him, and Daisy hovered over them protectively.
Minutes later Garrett announced that food was being served and herded them toward the tables.
Trina quite naturally fell into line with Mitch and his girls, and the four of them ended up on a blanket under a shade tree. From time to time, he scanned the crowd. He hadn't seen Heather arrive, but there were so many cars and such a crowd, he could easily have missed her.
"Will you be here when school starts this fall?" she asked, glancing from Mitch to the twins. "Lynn Garrison is the kindergarten teacher at Whitehorn Elementary. She's really nice. Pretty, too. Her students are crazy about her."
"They went to kindergarten last year," Mitch told her.
"Oh. I probably know the first grade teacher, too. I know several of the teachers, I'm just not sure which grades they teach."
Ashley's plastic cup of lemonade tipped and instantly soaked the seat of Trina's shorts. Trina used the edge of the blanket to blot them dry, and forced a smile.
"I'm gonna get more pickles and some dessert," Ashley said, and took off.
"Garrett picked a great day," Trina commented and Mitch agreed.
Ashley came running back with a precariously tipping paper plate. "I got pie!" She tripped over the edge of the blanket and the piece of cream pie she'd been carrying sailed through the air and landed on Trina's chest, just above the neckline of her shirt. Trina squealed as pudding and banana slices slid inside the fabric.
Sixteen
Oh!" Taylor immediately went to her sister's aid and scooped the remaining visible pie from Trina's chest into her palm. She didn't make it far before whipped cream and pudding slid between her fingers and dropped on Trina's sandaled foot.
Mitch handed the startled young woman the extra napkins he'd brought along as a habitual precaution. She used a couple to unsuccessfully wipe cream pie from her chest, reaching inside her shirt to wipe out more. Watching her try to clean herself, Mitch struggled to suppress the laugh that surged up toward his throat. He forced it down and worked on the gooey stuff between her toes.
With a perplexed expression, Trina plucked her shirt away from her skin and gestured that the napkin attempt was futile.
"I, uh. . ." He cleared his throat and started over. "I'll show you where the bathroom is. You can wash up in there." He turned to his daughters and pointed threateningly. "Don't either one of you move a muscle."
In seeming wide-eyed innocence, they shook their heads.
Mitch felt dozens of eyes on them as they crossed the lawn to the house. He held the door open for her and led the way to the bathroom off the kitchen. "I'll run up and get you a clean shirt," he said, and ran up the stairs to the room that still held a few drawers of his clothing.
Locating one of his smallest polo shirts, he hurried down and tapped on the bathroom door.
"Mitch? Come in."
Hesitantly he opened the door. She stood facing the sink, with her slender naked back to him as she washed out her T-shirt. Uh-uh. He wasn't going to get mixed up in a new situation. Immediately he averted his gaze and draped the clean shirt over a wooden cabinet right inside. "Here."
"Thanks."
He backed out and closed the door. In the kitchen, he wet a dishtowel and carried it outdoors.
"Now can I go get a new piece of pie?" Ashley asked.
He wiped her hands, then Taylor's. "You will tell Trina you're sorry when she comes back."
"I din't mean to drop my pie on her!"
"You still need to apologize for the accident."
Ashley pouted. "Awright."
"Okay, you two may go get pie. But this time walk back with it."
Mitch did his best to clean off the blanket, then gave up and turned it over.
"Look, Daddy!" Taylor called to him.
Mitch glanced up and discovered Heather and her children walking toward him with his daughters.
"Hi," he said.
Heather shifted Andrew on her hip. "Hi."
"Have you eaten?" he asked.
She nodded. "My kids wouldn't touch the barbecued pork, though."
He grinned. "Mine neither."
"There's a whole corner of Garrett's lawn over there covered with Andrew's chips."
"Banana cream pie and pickles," Mitch replied, pointing to the pile of napkins on his plate on the ground.
Heather laughed.
Her gaze moved to someone approaching.
Trina came up beside Mitch. His shirt was way too large for her, but she'd tied a knot at her waist, never one to allow too much skin to be covered at once, he noted. The soft cotton draped and outlined her small breasts. He should have given her a flannel shirt.
Mitch met Heather's eyes. She'd seen the direction of his gaze, and he felt his skin grow hot.
Trina hooked a finger in Mitch's belt loop, playfully, possessively. "Hi," she said to Heather.
Andrew leaned forward so fast that Heather had to catch him. He stretched his chubby arms toward Mitch.
Mitch took him, forcing Trina to let go. "Heather Johnson, this is Trina McCann."
The two exchanged a cool greeting.
Trina stared at the boy who'd latched on to Mitch, then glanced around at the throng of children.
"Let's go play croquet," Taylor suggested.
"You be careful with those mallets," Mitch warned as the twins and Heather's two older children trotted off. "And keep the balls on the ground." He emphasized the final words with a stern expression.
"We will!" they called back amid squeals of laughter.
Ashley hadn't apologized to Trina.
The three adults glanced at each other uncomfortably.
"Heather's ranch is the Bolton ranch where I'm working," Mitch said finally.
Trina nodded. "Oh." And from that information she knew that was where he was staying, too.
"I think I'll go keep an eye on the kids," Heather said. She reached for Andrew, but he clung to Mitch's shirt. Mitch had to open the toddler's fisted hands to loosen him. He puckered up to cry.
Heather kissed his forehead. "It's all right. We'll go watch the kids play ball."
"Ball?" he echoed.
She gave a little wave and walked away. Mitch watched her go. Turning, he found Trina studying him. "Nice lady," she said.
"Yes."
"Pretty, too."
"Uh-huh. Trina, let's go for a walk."
"Sure."
He led her aside, beneath the sun-filtering leaves of one of the aged trees, and along a pasture fence where wild daisies grew in profusion. He considered his words carefully. He'd thought he'd made himself clear the last time, but apparently he hadn't.
"Trina, I don't know how to say this any other way." He paused, then went on. "There can't be anything between us. Not now and not later. It's not that I don't think you're nice or pretty or any of that. It's just that it's not there."
She studied his face for a moment, then glanced toward the mountains. "I know."
That hammered him. He stumbled on a clump of grass and caught himself. "You do?"
She nodded and gestured back toward the ranch house. "It's her, isn't it?"
"She's part of it," he replied honestly.
"The other stuf
f is the rest of it."
"What other stuff?"
She made a face.
"The girls?" he prompted.
"Kind of." She released a pent-up breath. "It's not that I don't like them. But they've been with you for a long time. You're already a family together, the three of you. I want to make my own family."
Didn't that beat all? Didn't that just beat all? "That's perfectly understandable."
She placed her hand on his arm. "If we can't have a casual relationship, then I think we should just be friends," she said.
He raised a brow.
"You can't blame a girl for trying," she said on a laugh.
Relief swept over him and he smiled. "No."
She reached up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.
"Want to try another piece of pie?" he asked.
"She did that deliberately, didn't she?"
He couldn't help chuckling as he led her back toward the gathering and the food tables.
One of his other half brothers, Adam Benson, passed Mitch with a plate and a mug of beer. "Hey, Mitch! Victoria is over here. Come say hi."
Mitch joined him and his other half brothers and their wives, and enjoyed the conversation and the banter.
Before long, Garrett announced games, and three- legged runs and barrel races began. Later, while the girls were occupied in a supervised game, he joined a small gathering of men, including Cade, Ryder, and Collin, and listened attentively to their talk of horses and ranch management. It wasn't farfetched to imagine himself as a rancher. The idea appealed to him more and more all the time, and the girls were thriving here.
He wasn't going to set his hopes on the land Garrett wanted to give him, since the situation with Jordan and Hope Baxter was up in the air. But he could build up his business here and buy his own land. He had some insurance money he'd invested, if he decided to make a purchase. The idea instantly became more tangible.
Sunset arrived in myriad vibrant oranges and streaks of lavender, and the air cooled. From the corner of his eye, Mitch caught site of Heather's pewter Blazer winding away from the ranch. She probably felt safer driving on the mountains roads before full dark, but standing in the midst of all these people, Mitch felt lonelier than he'd ever felt before.
The Magnificent Seven Page 12
