by Brenda Novak
“I guess it hurt that he seemed to let me go so easily. After that, I poured all my time and energy into Andy,” she said. “Then to my surprise, Booker showed up just after Hatty died and asked me to marry him.”
Mike sat back. “No kidding? I never pegged Booker as the marrying kind.”
“Most people would agree with you.”
“What did you say?”
“I told him I’d already made my decision to leave with Andy.” She frowned and opened the menu, even though she already knew everything Jerry’s served. “Ironic how it all worked out, don’t you think? I was probably the only virgin to graduate in my senior class, yet I come home unmarried and pregnant. Andy, Mr. Smooth, turns into a crackhead. And Booker, who doesn’t even have a high school diploma, becomes a successful businessman.”
“I should’ve swept you off your feet and saved you from both of them,” Mike said.
“Except you didn’t love me,” she murmured, laughing.
A smile quirked his lips. “I’ve always cared about you.”
“That’s different.”
The bell sounded over the door, and Mike waved to get Josh and Rebecca’s attention as they came in. Josh guided his wife to their booth, but Rebecca barely looked up. She was too busy saying something to Josh about a robbery.
“What was that?” Mike asked when they were close enough.
“Mrs. Willoughby was robbed last night,” Rebecca said.
The ice in Mike’s water clinked as he set his glass down. “Old Mrs. Willoughby? The lady who lives just a couple miles from us?”
“Someone broke into her house wearing a nylon stocking over his head,” Josh explained.
“And he flashed her and nearly scared her half to death,” Rebecca added.
Rebecca slid into the booth next to Katie while Josh sat by his brother. “He also waved a hunting rifle in her face and cleaned out her jewelry box,” he told them. “Hi, Katie.”
“Hi, Josh,” Katie said. “Do they know who’s responsible for the robbery?”
“Slinkerhoff’s nephew has been accused of the other robberies in town,” he said.
Katie remembered Mary saying something about that the day they saw each other at Jerry’s.
“He’s been out on bail for several weeks, so I’m sure they’re checking his whereabouts. But at this point, Chief Clanahan is saying they don’t know much.”
“How would you like to identify someone’s pecker in a lineup?” Rebecca said, her lip curling in disgust.
“Did it have any identifying characteristics?” Mike asked, obviously joking.
“If he’d flashed me, there’d be a few scars,” Rebecca muttered.
Always high-spirited, Rebecca was more dramatic than most women. But Katie had always liked her. She had a big heart to go with her temperamental nature. Katie knew she’d be as good a mother as she was a friend.
“Mrs. Willoughby only lives a couple of miles from the ranch?” Katie said. She hadn’t had any qualms about living alone before. But the knowledge that there was an exhibitionist thief on the loose in their small community made her nervous.
“You know my grandfather’s house next door?” Mike asked.
“Next door” to the ranch was actually several acres away, but Katie knew the place Mike was talking about. To the Hill family’s extreme embarrassment, thirteen years ago his grandfather, Morris Caldwell, had divorced Mike’s grandmother and married Red, a known prostitute who was half his age and had three small children. It had created quite a scandal. He’d adopted her kids and finished raising them, but Red got tired of waiting for Morris to die so she could inherit his money and property and tried to poison him. He’d survived and divorced her just before he died of natural causes. In the end, she didn’t get a cent, but he kept her kids in his will. Casey and Reed, the two boys, had eventually sold their property to Josh and Mike and moved out of state. Lucky, the only girl, inherited the house but, even though Red had died shortly after, Lucky wouldn’t sell. She lived out of state, too; Katie wasn’t sure where. But the house had sat vacant for so long and was falling into such disrepair, it had developed a spooky reputation among the children and teenagers of Dundee.
“It’s the big Victorian, right?”
“That’s the one. Mrs. Willoughby lives in a mobile home on a corner of the property,” Mike told her.
“That is close,” Katie said. “You don’t think the thief could be one of your cowboys, do you?”
“No,” Josh said. “I’ve worked with most of those boys before, and I can’t see any of them scaring an old lady, let alone robbing her.”
Taylor came by to take their orders. Rebecca and Josh decided on a stack of pancakes each and a skillet of potatoes, eggs, onions and bacon. Mike ordered eggs Benedict and Katie chose the cheapest thing on the menu—two eggs any style with two strips of bacon and a piece of toast.
Rebecca’s eyes dropped to Katie’s belly the moment the waitress left. “How’s the pregnancy coming along?”
Katie rubbed the spot where the baby liked to kick. Recently she’d been having a lot of backaches that felt disturbingly like the premature labor pains she’d experienced in San Francisco. They hadn’t developed into anything, so she figured they came from spending so much time sitting at her computer. “Fine.”
Rebecca’s face reflected envy—Rebecca’s face always revealed whatever she was thinking or feeling.
Katie said “Fine,” as Mike and Josh both started talking at once, in an obvious attempt to distract Rebecca.
She scowled at them. “I’m okay.”
Katie opened her mouth to bring up the possible adoption. She thought now might be a good time. But she couldn’t do it. Instead she said, “Rebecca, I was hoping you’d be able to meet us here today because…because I wanted to ask if you’d be my coach during the delivery.”
Rebecca’s jaw dropped, and Josh and Mike looked alarmed—until a smile crept over her face. “You mean you want me to go to classes with you and help you breathe right and all that?”
Katie nodded. “Classes start next Wednesday. But they’re in Boise. Is that okay?”
“That’s fine.”
“Great.” Katie shot Mike a glance that said she wasn’t willing to go any further today, and he gave her a subtle nod to let her know he understood.
“I would’ve been your coach,” he said, acting hurt.
“You were next on my list,” she told him, then realized Rebecca was watching her intensely. “What?”
“Booker’s in love with you. You know that, don’t you?”
Katie was too shocked to speak. This was the last thing she’d expected to hear.
Josh shifted uncomfortably in his seat and ducked his head to catch his wife’s eye. “Do you think that’s information Booker would want you to share, Beck?”
“I want him to be happy,” Rebecca stated as bluntly as she stated everything else. “I want them both to be happy. Anyway, I’m not betraying a confidence. Booker’s never told me he loves her. I just know in my heart that he does.”
“You must be mistaken,” Katie said. “He’s seeing Ashleigh Evans.”
Rebecca grimaced and shook her head. “I can’t figure out how he got involved with Ashleigh. She was coming on to him long before you showed up, and he might’ve been friendly, but he didn’t show the slightest inclination to take her up on anything more.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure that in the last few weeks he’s taken her up on plenty.”
Rebecca propped her chin in her palm and stared at Katie. “Unless you stake some sort of claim on Booker, he has no reason not to see other women.”
Katie knew she had no right to be angry with Booker over Ashleigh. But that didn’t change the fact that she hurt whenever she imagined them together. “Andy cheated on me so many times. I just…I can’t—”
“Booker is nothing like Andy,” Rebecca said, her voice soft yet fierce.
Katie looked at the door, suddenly eager to escape.
But their food hadn’t even arrived. And she’d ridden with Mike.
“Beck, take it easy,” Josh murmured as if sensing Katie’s panic.
Mike slung his arm over the back of the booth. “Katie’s got a lot to deal with right now. What’s wrong with letting her hang out with me?”
“Nothing’s wrong with it, if that’s what she really wants,” Rebecca replied, resisting Mike’s attempt to lighten the mood. “I’m just telling her what I think because I’m her friend as much as Booker’s.”
“Well, thanks for the input.” Mike squeezed Katie’s shoulder. “You gonna be okay?”
Katie forced a smile despite the unsettling ache in the pit of her stomach. “Sure, I’m fine.”
“Katie?” Rebecca pressed.
Katie reluctantly raised her eyes to Rebecca’s.
“Ever since you moved out, Booker has barely spoken to Ashleigh. He’s barely spoken to anyone, even to me. He works eighteen hours a day. If you care about him, think about the fact that he’s hurting right now.”
Booker’s angry, Katie…because you left us…he doesn’t like it…I know… Delbert’s words, though delivered in a simpler form, mirrored what Rebecca had just said. Could Rebecca and Delbert be right?
“I’m pregnant with another man’s baby,” Katie said, stating the obvious. “This isn’t the time to worry about what I feel or don’t feel for Booker.”
“There isn’t a better time. This is when you need him, Katie.” Rebecca leaned back and crossed her arms. “I think you’re seriously underestimating him, just like everyone else.”
BOOKER SHOVED HIS HANDS in the pockets of his faded jeans as he stood at his office window. He’d done the right thing, forcing the issue with Katie by going home with Ashleigh. It was over. For good. No more “what ifs.” And he was satisfied. Better to put a decisive end to whatever was developing between them than to walk into the same brick wall, right?
But all the logic in the world did little to stifle the regret or the longing that tore through him at the sight of her.
The inside door banged open as Delbert entered the office, but Booker didn’t flinch. He was too mesmerized watching Josh, Rebecca, Mike and Katie leave Jerry’s Diner. Katie had been staying out at High Hill Ranch for more than two weeks, and this was the fourth time Booker had seen her come into town with Mike. Even more telling was that Mike hadn’t been seen with Mary Thornton lately.
Once again, Booker had the privilege of standing by, at close range, while Katie fell for another man….
“Katie’s at the diner, Booker,” Delbert announced. “I just saw her.”
Booker didn’t respond.
“There she is.” Delbert pointed as though Booker wasn’t already staring at her. “She’s leaving right now. Can we go say hello? Can we, Booker?”
“Go ahead,” Booker said. “I’m staying here.”
In the next second, Katie glanced up and met his eyes. The yearning he felt threatened to expose him. So he gave her a look that said he didn’t give a damn about her and turned away.
“MIKE TOLD ME KATIE’S been living out at the ranch,” Barbara Hill said.
Tami Rogers frowned at her best friend. They’d been poring through quilting books in the craft room of Barb’s basement, searching for a pattern they wanted to use for their next project. They both liked to quilt, especially through the long summer evenings, and often worked on a quilt together or shared bits of fabric or patterns. They usually sold their quilts at the church’s harvest festival each fall, and it was a matter of pride that they garnered the highest bids—second only to Roy White’s hand-tooled saddles.
“At the ranch? Since when?” she asked, even though she knew better than to let Barb bait her into having this conversation. Barb didn’t agree with how she and Don had handled Katie and had been looking for a chance to say so.
“It’s been almost a month.”
“Well, that’s a better place for her than out at Booker Robinson’s, I guess,” Tami said, fingering a calico fabric that might be nice for a traditional wedding ring pattern.
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with Booker Robinson,” Barb said.
Tami raised a questioning eyebrow. “You sure thought something was wrong with him two years ago when Katie was dating him.”
“I didn’t know him then. He’s been around long enough now that I can tell he’s a decent fellow.”
“Since when have you gotten to know Booker Robinson?”
“Since we started taking our cars over there to have them serviced. He’s honest and quick and always respectful.”
“I don’t want to talk about Booker,” Tami said. “I don’t have anything against him as long as he stays away from my daughter.”
Barb began folding the fabric they’d spread out on the utility table and stacking the books. “You haven’t wanted to talk about Katie, either. Meanwhile, my son’s telling me how destitute she is and asking why my best friend, who happens to be her mother, isn’t helping her.”
“Did you tell him it’s because she needs to deal with the mess she’s created?” Tami said, her tone challenging.
“I told him that, yes.” Barb put the fabric away in the plastic containers where she stored her supplies.
“What did he say?”
“That everyone needs a little help once in a while.”
Tami shook her head. Even though she was beginning to have her own doubts about the way they were handling Katie, she knew Don still felt certain they’d made the right decision. Admitting that she no longer fully agreed with her husband felt too disloyal. “She’ll be better off if we don’t rush to her rescue,” she said, repeating what Don always told her.
“Did you say she’ll be better? Or bitter?” Barb replied, sliding her glasses down her nose so she could look over them at Tami.
“Barb—”
“Tami, I know you and Don have strong feelings about this. But it’s tough for me not to offer Katie the help you won’t give her. If we weren’t best friends—if I didn’t owe you my first allegiance—I would’ve gone to her long ago.”
“You should support me. I’m taking a stand for what’s right. How is that so terrible?”
“You’re trying to tell her how to live.”
“She’s my daughter!”
“She’s twenty-five.”
“And she wouldn’t be in the situation she’s in now if she’d listened to me!”
Barb’s lips pursed in disapproval. Obviously she had more to say but was trying to hold back.
Tami considered leaving before they ended up in an argument. But the second thoughts she’d been experiencing had poked too many holes in her resolve. Shoving the quilting books aside, she leaned forward. “Go ahead and say what’s on your mind, Barb.”
Barb hesitated for several seconds, but finally nodded. “Okay, I’m wondering where you think this is going to lead.”
“What do you mean?”
“What good can come out of the stand you’ve taken?”
“Maybe Katie will listen to us next time.”
“Next time? Hard as this may be to hear, Tami, your role in her life has changed. You need to support her in a different way now that she’s older.”
“That’s easy for you to say! You’re not coping with a daughter who’s made a mess of her life and you’re not fighting to get a fourteen-year-old turned around. Your boys are all grown up and doing great.”
Barb stopped straightening up for a moment. “We’ve had our rough spots, you know that better than anyone. Both my boys were a handful growing up. And I thought I’d die when Josh decided to marry Rebecca. But I wanted a relationship with my future grandchildren, so I had to trust that he knew what he was doing. And I’m glad I did. Rebecca’s a good woman. I wouldn’t trade her as a daughter-in-law.”
“So you think I should forget about the fact that Katie’s having a baby out of wedlock and welcome her back with open arms?”
Barb sighed. “I’m saying we a
ll make mistakes. Sometimes we have to give the people we love a hand—and a little extra room to figure out life’s lessons on their own.”
Tami pictured Katie standing on her doorstep in the rain. At the time, Tami had been so disappointed, so angry. She’d told herself she was doing the right thing when she turned Katie away. But was she really?
THE NIGHT STRETCHED before Booker, quiet and lonely. He was too exhausted to head back to the shop, but he couldn’t sleep, either. He did some chores around the house, missing Hatty in a way he hadn’t missed her in months. He’d changed his life, knew his grandmother would be proud of him. But he was still restless. Maybe he always would be. Maybe it was just his nature.
Unable to think of anything else to do, he watched TV for a half hour before climbing the stairs for bed. Delbert had turned in several hours earlier, but Bruiser nosed Delbert’s door open when Booker reached the hall and followed him to the entrance of Katie’s room.
Squatting to pat the dog’s head, Booker gazed at the empty bed and empty dresser. Empty seemed to describe the whole house these days.
“See that? We’re finally rid of her. Life can get back to normal now, huh, boy?” he muttered.
Bruiser cocked his head and gave him a pitying look that made Booker laugh. “God, even you.” He stood to leave, but something peeking out from under the bed caught his eye.
Moving closer, he realized it was the spine of a book. Evidently Katie had forgotten something. He expected it to be one of the computer manuals she’d studied so religiously, but when he pulled it out, he saw that it was a library book about babies.
“What do you think?” he asked Bruiser, showing the dog the picture of the newborn on the cover.
Bruiser yawned, obviously not impressed. Booker, on the other hand, was curious. He sat on the bed and thumbed through page after page of pictures, some of pregnant mothers, some of the birth process. But the photographs and diagrams that fascinated him most were of the developing baby. Katie was seven months along. According to the book, a seven-month-old fetus weighed about three pounds and could open and close his eyes. His brain was developing quickly, he was aware and led an active emotional life. It said he could even learn things and recognize his mother’s voice.
