Jody’s hands knotted into fists. There was nothing she’d like better than grabbing a few of those sugar roses and hurling them at Kennedy. Or maybe just forgetting all about the girl and rocking Lyle’s jaw with her fist.

“Isn’t he just the sweetest husband ever to come to one of these affairs with me?” Kennedy crooned. “Now let’s move over a table, darlin’, and look at pretty cakes.”

She tugged on his arm, and he followed without a backward glance. Jody thought she’d gotten past the anger stage, but the way her fingernails dug into her palms told a different story. She imagined smashing the whole container of chicken salad into Lyle’s face, especially when he agreed Kennedy should order that huge cake.

Her parents were probably paying for the reception since all she’d gotten was a rushed courthouse wedding, but Jody hadn’t even had that much. Forget the mushy chicken salad—she’d rather throw the fake cake at him, especially if the inside was something hard like concrete.

Paula and Tabby were giggling about something when they returned. At least, they were until Paula stopped in her tracks and her eyes shifted from Lyle to Jody. “Holy smokin’ hell,” she whispered. “What is he doin’ here?”

“He’s with his new bride, Kennedy. They’re getting a wedding cake for the big reception the ranch is throwing for them,” Jody explained in low tones.

“Your ex?” Tabby asked.

“That’s right.” Jody nodded.

Tabby shot a mean look toward his back and then promptly headed out across the floor, bypassing them on the way to where Mitzi and Dixie were bringing in cups of soda for everyone. Without saying anything, she took one of the three cups Dixie was trying to handle and started back to the display with it in her hand.

Jody watched Tabby from the corner of her eye as she wove through the crowd. Then Jody caught Mitzi’s expression when she realized that Lyle was in the room. Her mouth set in a firm line and her jaws worked as if she were trying to swallow a green persimmon.

Tabby stumbled over her own two feet but quickly got control. Then she tripped over the toes of Kennedy’s fancy boots and dumped the whole drink on Lyle’s freshly starched and ironed jeans.

“Oh, my goodness, I’m so sorry. I’m usually not the clumsy one. But I was lookin’ at that cake and wasn’t watchin’ where I was goin’. I hope I didn’t hurt your daughter’s toes,” she gushed. “Please forgive me. It’s not every father who’s kind enough to come along with his child to these things. And now I’ve ruined your jeans. I hope folks don’t think that you’ve peed on yourself. You really don’t look old enough to do that, I promise. To have a kid as old as yours, you look pretty good.”

“It’s all right. I have a change of clothing in the truck,” Lyle said through clenched teeth. “And this is my wife, not my daughter.”

“Oh, sweet Lord.” Tabby’s hands went to her cheeks. “I’m so sorry. It’s just that you l-look about like my father’s age, and . . .” She stammered over the words. “Well, I’m glad you brought extra jeans. Forgive me for being so awkward. I hope I don’t do something stupid when I’m modeling a dress for The Perfect Dress tonight. Did y’all stop by our table? We do custom wedding dresses for plus-sized women, like your wife. Why are you getting a wedding cake if she’s already your wife?”

Kennedy tugged on his arm. “Let’s go out to the truck and get you out of those wet things. And for your information, we’re having a reception. That’s why we need a cake and not a dress. One more thing: my size is none of your damned business. You’re certainly not a skinny person, either.”

Tears flowed down Tabby’s cheeks. “Accidents happen. You don’t have to get mean with me. I try to lose weight, but it’s so hard.”

“Let’s get out of here.” Lyle ushered Kennedy away from the table.

“I’ll call you about when and where to deliver that cake,” Kennedy called out to Glenda.

Mitzi draped an arm around Tabby’s shoulders. “Are you all right?”

“Couldn’t be better.” Tabby wiped the tears away and grinned at her sister. “How’s that for a performance?”

“That was standing-ovation material,” Dixie giggled. “Who was that?”

“The sorry sucker who hurt our Jody,” Tabby said.

“Then the reviews for your acting skills will be out of this world. I’ll share my drink with you,” Dixie said.

It started as a hardly audible giggle, but soon Jody was guffawing and wiping at her own tears with a paper napkin. “That was incredible,” she finally said between hiccups.

“You are welcome.” Tabby curtsied. “Now let’s get into that chicken salad. Acting always makes me hungry.”

Dixie set her two cups on the table. “She’s not as pretty as you, Jody.”

“Thank you for that.” Jody set about making five sandwiches.

Mitzi unloaded two cups and opened a bag of chips. “Did you two take acting classes?”

“Nope, we’ve just put on shows for each other and for Daddy since we were little girls,” Dixie answered. “Tabby can cry on demand. I can’t, so I’m glad she was the one who knew who that sorry son of a gun was.”