Tate (Cowboys & Debutantes: Contemporary Book 4)

by Kit Morgan

  “What are friends for?” Casey hugged her back.

  Melanie let go of her and stood. Perhaps it was time to change the subject. She had some thinking to do … but first, they had work. “Ready to go over the list of models?”

  Casey leaped to her feet and put an arm around her. “Sounds good to me.”

  Melanie hugged her one more time, and together they left the room.

  * * *

  Several days later, Casey and Melanie’s photo shoot commenced. “Okay,” Melanie said. “Everybody ready?”

  Samantha Sullivan’s bedroom was a tittering mass of women ranging in age from their fifties to early nineties save for Melanie and Casey. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Samantha said.

  Casey laughed. “Variety is good.”

  “Yes, but I’m not a granny,” Samantha countered. “Unless there’s something you’re not telling me?”

  “You’re not a grandmother, you mean,” Casey corrected. “And sorry, there’s nothing to tell yet.”

  Samantha brightened. “Take your time, don’t think you have to rush. But I wouldn’t mind some results in the next year or two.”

  “There’s nothing like being a grandma,” Mrs. Thompson, who had to be at least ninety, said as she put on her pink flowered bathing cap. “I love it. And the best part is you get to give ‘em back when you’re done playing with ‘em.”

  “So I’ve heard,” Samantha said. “But I don’t know how that’ll work for me since Jake and Casey live here. All I’d be doing is taking them into the next room.”

  Casey sobered. “We can get our own place, you know, if that’s what you want.”

  “Heavens no, I like having the family here. Everyone pitches in and it works out. What’s a little one added to the mix?”

  Casey smiled and hugged her, turned to Melanie and nodded. Melanie led the group downstairs, out of the house and into the barn.

  As they fired up the lights, Casey sighed. “I hope this goes well.”

  “They’re already having a ball,” Melanie pointed out. “I’ve never seen so much giggling.”

  “You’re right – they are having fun.”

  Melanie put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you upset about what your mother-in-law said?”

  “About children? No. But I’m glad she won’t want us to get our own place. I like living in the house with everyone – one big happy family, you know?”

  Melanie nodded with a smile. “You are. I’ve had so much fun since I’ve been here.”

  “Except for Tate?” Casey made a face.

  Melanie rolled her eyes. “Mmm, yeah. But he’s been working every day and I haven’t seen much of him, so that makes it easier.”

  “Easier for you, maybe. Poor Cassandra’s about to go stir crazy. I caught her looking at airline tickets on her phone last night.”

  “Can’t say I blame her,” Melanie said as Samantha, Mrs. Thompson and the rest of the ladies hired for the shoot giggled their way around the barn.

  Cassandra slouched in last. “This is the oddest shoot I’ve ever worked on. Brrr – someone want to help me close these doors?”

  Casey went over, and together they got the barn doors closed. Casey then turned to her models, all sporting her swimsuit designs along with colorful bathing caps and beach towels. “Well, honey,” said Mrs. Thompson, “what do you want us to do?”

  “I’m not the one to ask,” Casey said, pointing at Melanie. “She takes it from here.”

  The entire group turned as one to face Melanie. “We’re all yours, Mel,” Samantha said. “Make us look sexy.” A roar of laughter erupted from the group and it took a while for everyone to calm down.

  Once they did, Melanie began giving instructions, placing everyone where they needed to be, checking the lighting once more. Only when she was fully satisfied did she get started. “All right, everyone, let the fun begin!”

  “Yeehaw!” shouted Mrs. Greenwood, a spry 75-year-old librarian. “Shoot us, baby!” Mrs. Warren, a sixty-something whose husband worked at the bank, attempted to lay back on a bale of hay and almost fell off. “Whoops!”

  Melanie laughed. “This is going to be harder than I thought,” she admitted through her giggles.

  “Careful, Mabel!” Mrs. Thompson snapped. “Hold your position for the photographer. We’re supposed to be professionals, remember?”

  Another round of giggles, and Melanie took a few shots. That’s how the shoot went – a few shots, a few giggles, the occasional belly laugh, then lather, rinse, repeat for the next two hours. By the time she was done, it was nearly noon and her sides hurt from all the laughter.

  As the women hurried back to the house for lunch, Melanie spied the family truck coming up the drive. The men were back.

  Cassandra saw it too. “About time they got home!” she complained. “What do they do out there all day besides chase cows?”

  “They were working on sprinkler systems or something today,” Melanie stated mildly. She watched Cassandra stare at the approaching truck. “Are you sorry you came?”

  Cassandra looked at her and shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I can always leave if I get too bored.”

  “Just like that?” Melanie said.

  “Sure, why not?”

  Melanie’s back went rigid. “I can’t believe you’d do that to Tate.”

  “He doesn’t care.”

  “Does he know that?” Melanie whispered as the men pulled up.

  “Look, Mel, I don’t know what it is between you and Tate, and frankly I don’t care, but for right now he’s mine and I’ll do what I want with him.”

  Melanie almost choked in shock. “Cassandra, he’s not a piece of furniture!”

  “I don’t know – he is rather comfy.” She flashed Melanie a brilliant smile, then turned it on Tate as he got out of the truck. “Hey there, handsome!”

  Melanie’s hands shook from the effort of not slapping Cassandra. She was just toying with Tate and nothing else. Not that Melanie didn’t know that already, but to hear her so blatantly admit it set her blood boiling. With a growl, she turned and stormed into the house.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Casey asked as she handed Melanie a sandwich.

  “Nothing,” she growled, taking a bite. She chewed without tasting, even though she was starving. Samantha handed her a glass of lemonade, and she took it, went to the kitchen table and sat. She continued to eat, hoping that if her mouth was full of food, she couldn’t make any biting comments when Cassandra and the men came in.

  Which they quickly did. “Hello-o-o-o, ladies!” Liam said, looking the models over. Each was wearing a bathrobe over their swimsuit, but hadn’t taken their caps off yet. Jake, right behind him, did his best not to laugh, but his face was turning a very interesting shade of red.

  “Go ahead, honey, let it rip!” Mrs. Thompson said. “Face it, we look like a bunch of fat flamingos!”

  “Speak for yourself,” said Mrs. Greenwood, who probably didn’t weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet. “I ain’t a fat nothin’!”

  Jake and Liam burst out laughing. Tate entered, took one look at the women and wolf-whistled.

  “See, girls?” Mrs. Thompson said. “We’re a hit!”

  Melanie spotted Cassandra standing to one side, smirking, and tried to think about anything other than hitting her. Again, she wondered if Tate knew that he was nothing to Cassandra but an accessory.

  * * *

  After lunch they finished the shoot, cleaned up the barn and put everything away. “I guess we can save the pool toys and things for next summer,” Casey said. “But I don’t know if they’ll get used again.”

  “Maybe not,” Melanie said solemnly. “Not unless you’re planning a line of suits for children – or you have some of your own really quick.”

  “Well, I’m not planning to … but I’m also not planning not to, if you know what I mean,” Casey said. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine.”

  “You were kind of
short-tempered at lunch. I don’t think anyone else noticed, but…”

  Melanie rubbed her temples. “I just …” She let her hands fall to her sides. “I’m so upset with Cassandra. She’s just using Tate.”

  “Oh, that. I kind of figured. I thought maybe at first she was genuinely interested, but the longer she’s been here the more I can tell she’s not.”

  “Exactly. But does Tate know?”

  “He’s a big boy, Mel – he can take care of himself. I’m sure he’ll figure it out eventually.”

  “Yes, eventually. I …” She picked up her camera bag and slung it over her shoulder. “… I just don’t want to see him get hurt, you know?”

  Casey went over and gave her a hug. “I know. It’s got to kill you to watch all this, knowing how you feel about him.”

  “Doesn’t really matter what I feel, does it? I could never be with him.”

  Casey let go and stepped back. “So now you’re not interested in marriage?”

  “Of course I’m interested. But my work …” She knew she was just blowing smoke.

  So did Casey, who put her hands on her hips and shook her head, just like Melanie had seen Samantha do repeatedly over the last week. “Didn’t we already talk about this? Geez, Mel, you can’t let that stop you. If marriage to a good man is something you really want, then there’s nothing wrong with someone like Tate Sullivan, regardless of his location.”

  “Except that to him I’m just a friend. He has no interest in me.”

  “Really?” Casey made a show of tapping her chin with her forefinger. “Cassandra says he’s not serious … you say he just considers you a friend … and how do either of you know what he’s thinking? ESP?”

  “Casey, he’s dating someone else, for crying out loud!”

  “Not for long, the way Cassandra is acting.” She picked up a stack of quilts. “Besides, it’s not like you’ll never see him again. Tate or Jake are going to have to continue overseeing Dixie’s.”

  Melanie thought about that for a moment. Casey was right – she would see Tate again. Maybe in time, the situation would be different. Cassandra had made it clear that she just considered him a fling – and knowing Tate’s high morals, how long would she put up with not being able to get him into bed? Then she would dump him and go back to New York. Jake and Casey had the next round of Dixie’s duty, so they wouldn’t be likely to hook up again.

  That’s a lot of ifs, girl, her conscience pointed out.

  Melanie couldn’t deny that. Also, all that meant it could be months before she saw Tate again, unless she found an excuse to come do another photo shoot with Casey. “Oh, what’s the use?” she muttered. “By the time I see him again, he could be with someone else entirely.”

  “You don’t know that,” Casey insisted. “And if you really do want to settle down, there are lots of other men out there.”

  Melanie smiled weakly and nodded. Yes, there were, she admitted to herself. But there was only one Tate Sullivan. No matter how much her conscience bullied her, that wasn’t going to change.

  Chapter 13

  Melanie spent the next day on her computer in the Sullivans’ living room, editing photos. The ideal would be to get it all done while she was with Casey to show her the results, rather than having to send them back and forth via email.

  “Omigosh, these are so good!” Casey exclaimed as she peered over Melanie’s shoulder. “You’ve really outdone yourself, Mel. Send me that batch you just finished – I want to e-mail them to a few editors.”

  “Sure.” Melanie began separating the ones Casey wanted and putting them into a file. “Kind of quiet in here. Where is everybody?”

  “Jake and Liam are working on the other side of the property. Jenny’s at work, as usual. Samantha went to the grocery store. And Tate took Cassandra to Bend – shopping.”

  Melanie went cold, shook it off and resumed working. Maybe she’d join a dating site when she got back to New York …

  SWF, 25, professional, seeks single male 23-30. Must be unavailable and uninterested. That’s your type, right?

  “You okay?” Casey asked.

  “Yes, fine.” Melanie tuned out her conscience and turned in her chair as the urge to return to New York struck hard. Maybe she would finish her editing at home. “How many more of these do you want?”

  “As many as you can do. I mean, we’re both here.”

  Melanie turned back to her laptop with a sigh. “Yeah, you’re right. Okay, I’ll see if I can’t get through these in the next day or two.”

  Casey sat in a nearby chair. “Do you want to leave?”

  Melanie stopped and looked at her. “I … I don’t know.”

  Casey whistled. “Wow, you’ve got it bad. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” Melanie groaned. “It is what it is.”

  “You don’t have to stay here. You can go home if you want.”

  “I know, it’s just … we should work on these together. Who knows when we’ll see each other again?”

  “I wouldn’t worry about that. Jake and I will be taking care of Dixie’s next. Tate had the last turn.”

  That stung. Who knew when she’d ever see Tate again? And when he did come for another turn at Dixie’s, would she want to see him at that point? Would it be too painful? Worse, what if she wasn’t over him by then? She had to still ride Georgie …

  “Doggone it!” Jake stomped down the hall from the kitchen, then saw Melanie and Casey in the living room. “Where’s Tate?”

  “He took Cassandra to Bend,” Casey told him. “Why?”

  “He here?” Liam shouted from the kitchen, then joined them. “Where’s Tate?”

  “Bend,” Casey and Jake said at once.

  “Why?” Melanie asked. “What’s going on?”

  “We’ve got a problem out at the south pump house and we need his help with it,” Jake explained. “Be a lot cheaper if we can fix it ourselves rather than call somebody. But Tate’s the one that’s good at it.”

  Casey nodded. “That’s true.” She glanced at Melanie. “Jake’s best with the cattle and haying, but Tate’s the mechanical one.”

  “And me,” Liam tossed in. “I’m just plain good – ow!” he finished, as Casey slugged him in the arm.

  “Stop it, you two,” Jake said. “Well, I guess we’ll have to call him.”

  Melanie cringed as she envisioned Cassandra having her shopping excursion cut short. “Will he be mad?”

  “Mad?” asked Jake. “Why? It’s what we do.”

  “Call him,” Liam said. “I’m gonna heat up some leftovers – I’m starved.”

  Melanie watched him disappear into the kitchen as Jake whipped out his cell phone and called his brother. Yeah, Cassandra would be upset all right. But what business was it of hers? She sighed and returned to her editing.

  * * *

  The day dragged on. Melanie didn’t see the men after Jake called Tate to ask him to come help fix whatever needed fixing. When Tate got back, she only heard the back door slam, Cassandra trudging down the hall and up the stairs to the guest room that – Melanie’s bad luck continuing – they shared. She decided she’d rather keep working than go upstairs and listen to Cassandra complain. And then it started to rain, because of course it did.

  “What happened?” Samantha asked as she returned from her grocery run and saw Melanie’s expression. “Did somebody die?”

  Melanie smiled. “No, just one of those days.”

  “Casey’s helping me put the groceries away,” Samantha said, clearly avoiding the temptation to pry. “I’m thinking we might as well bake cookies, since it’s wet and dreary out.”

  “I’m sure the guys would love that.” Melanie turned back to her laptop.

  “They always do,” Samantha said with a smile. “Would you like to help?”

  Melanie shrugged. “Sure.” She saved her work, set her computer to sleep mode, stood up and stretched. Samantha had already retreated to the kitchen. Rather than follow, Melanie stared
out the living room window at the hay fields and the long driveway that led to the house. She liked the wide open spaces here – she could breathe better – but she also missed the city with its crowds, smells and diversity.

  “Hey, you helping?” Casey asked from the hall.

  Melanie turned from the window. “Yeah. Should we ask Cassandra if she wants to?”

  Casey glanced up the stairs, suppressed a snort. “What do you think she’s doing up there?”

  “Knowing Cassandra, either sleeping or griping.”

  “Then you can ask,” Casey said with a laugh and hurried back to the kitchen.

  Melanie shook her head and went upstairs. When she reached the guest room, the door was closed. She gave a soft knock and entered.

  Cassandra was packing. “Oh, it’s you.”

  “Who else would it be?” Melanie asked. She glanced at Cassandra’s suitcase. “Are you leaving?”

  “Yes, I just booked a flight.”

  Melanie felt a surprising pang of sadness. “I’m sorry you’re going.”

  Cassandra glared at her and threw a shirt into the suitcase, not bothering to fold it. “Don’t be. And yeah, coming here sucked. This is definitely not my thing.”

  “It’s not New York, that’s for sure,” Melanie commented. She liked the ranch, but wasn’t sure she could live the country life full-time as Casey was. She couldn’t blame Cassandra for wanting to leave. Then a question struck her, one she’d never thought of before. “Cassandra, where are you from?”

  She froze. “New York City. Duh!”

  “No, I mean originally?”

  Cassandra turned on her. “You really want to know? Fort Scott, Kansas.”

  Melanie shook her head. “Where?”

  “Exactly. And this place reminds me way too much of Fort Scott.” She began tossing things into her suitcase faster.

  Melanie watched her as her mind raced. She vaguely recalled Cassandra coming from the country, but hadn’t she then grown up later in a big city? She certainly acted like she had – just like some of the snobbier debutantes she’d known. “So you’re from a small town?”

  “‘Town’ is too big a word for it.”