He was probably mad about something with the investigation or with his paperwork concerning when he could leave the precinct permanently. It had nothing to do with her, she hoped. She kept walking right out the front door without looking back over her shoulder.

When she parked in front of the cabin, her phone pinged with a text from Waylon: Can we talk?

She turned off the engine and typed: For what and why?

The return message said: Meet me at the dock?

She sent back: One hour in the church parking lot.

Black clouds gathered in the southwest again that afternoon. The rain that they thought might be coming the day before had gone around Bootleg and Mabelle and hit around Archer City with severe wind and even marble-size hail.

If the rain materialized, she didn’t want to be on the dock when it hit. And if this was going to be a big black moment with Waylon, she sure didn’t want Gracie to hear it. Before she could get out of her car, Jamie pulled in right beside her.

Kate stepped out and pointed at the sky. “Looks like a storm coming our way.”

“Let’s go get a glass of sweet tea and a cinnamon roll and sit on the porch. I love the smell of rain in the air,” Jamie said.

Kate jogged from her car to the porch. “You haven’t eaten yet? It’s almost one thirty.”

Jamie hit the first porch step by the time Kate got to the door. “I wanted to finish a file drawer, so I worked an extra hour. I sent Amanda a text, and she sent one back to say that she and Gracie were making yeast bread and cinnamon rolls.”

Kate shook her head. “I smell cinnamon all the way out here.”

With hands on her hips, Gracie waited for them in the middle of the living room floor. Her hair had been french braided and her little faded shorts and shirt had the remnants of flour stuck to them.

“You scared me,” Gracie scolded her mother.

“I’m only an hour late. Didn’t Amanda tell you?” Jamie said. “Where is my welcome hug?”

Gracie squared her shoulders. “You can have it later. I’m mad at you and Kate both.”

“What did I do? Are you mad at Amanda?” Kate asked.

“Bad men killed my daddy. He didn’t die because I didn’t tell him good-bye. You should have told me, Mama, or you should’ve, Kate.”

“Oh!” All the wind left Kate’s lungs in a whoosh.

Amanda came out of the kitchen and shrugged. “I didn’t know what to do.”

Jamie sank down on the sofa and patted the spot beside her. “Come and sit beside me and we’ll talk about it.”

Gracie crawled up into her lap and laid her head on Jamie’s shoulder. “I been afraid for you to go anywhere if I didn’t tell you good-bye. I thought you’d die, too.”

“That isn’t why your daddy died. Some bad men came in the flower shop where he was buying roses and they shot him,” Jamie said. “This is really not your fault, sweetheart.”

Kate had been almost thirty when her father died, and she had not told him good-bye. They’d had a horrible argument the night before his heart attack, and she’d stormed out of the house in anger. Poor little Gracie was only six, and she’d been carrying this burden around the better part of a month.

“Amanda said it’s not my fault that he’s dead. And that it’s not Lisa’s fault that her mama is dead,” Gracie said.

Kate sat down on the other end of the sofa and held Gracie’s hand in hers. “Amanda is right. Sometimes bad things happen and it’s nobody’s fault.”

“It’s those bad men’s fault and I hope Waylon shoots them.” Gracie tilted her chin up a notch. “Now, let’s go have some cinnamon rolls. Me and Amanda worked hard all morning. She’s nesting, you know.”

“Oh, she is?” Kate smiled.

“I don’t know what it means, but I hope it lasts a long time, because I like cookies and cinnamon rolls,” Gracie said.

The first raindrops hit the windshield of his truck as Waylon pulled into a space in the church parking lot. He sat there for five minutes, hoping that Kate hadn’t changed her mind. When she finally pulled up beside him and motioned for him to come over to her vehicle, he wasted no time getting out of the truck. He started to open the passenger door of the Cadillac but noticed her long legs going over the seat.

He hurriedly got into the backseat and scooted over into her embrace, pulling her so close that their hearts beat in unison. “Bad news. All that information checked out, but the one suspect we thought it might lead us to didn’t pan out. I was so angry. I hope you didn’t think it was at you.”

“I didn’t, but I did know that you needed some cool-down time. That means I’ll get top billing on the list of suspects, because I have the money to pay someone to kill him, right?”

He nodded. “I’m sorry. We’ll keep digging.”

“Thank you for that much. Gracie had a meltdown today, and Amanda had to take care of it. I’m going to talk to the girls tonight about all this. In my opinion, Gracie needs a day at the ranch next week. Meeting with you this afternoon is good. I can tell them that’s what we were talking about,” Kate said.

He wanted to kiss her again, but with the newest turn of events, maybe that was a bad idea. It wouldn’t be good for her case or his record if he was romantically involved with the lead suspect in his final case.

“I should be going,” he said.

“Me, too. I’ve got a lot to tell the girls, and hopefully, the festival and the day at the ranch will help Gracie. I didn’t realize that a little kid went through the stages of grief just like an adult.”

“Me, either.” He scooted across the seat and out the door. “Thank you, Kate, for everything.”

“It is what it is.” She shrugged.

But why can’t it be different just this one time, Waylon thought as he started up his truck engine and drove away. Why couldn’t we have met under different circumstances—like at a party or even on a couple of bar stools?

Kate watched the rain splat against the windshield and the side windows for five minutes. What-ifs played through her mind the whole time. What if they came and took her away in handcuffs? What would Gracie do if the policemen took her mother? Did Mama Rita have enough money to take care of her properly? And Amanda? What if her baby was born in prison and they gave it up for adoption?

Finally, with no answers to any of the questions, she crawled over the seat and headed home. Home. Was that what the cabin had become?

She stopped by the convenience store and picked up two bottles of wine and a couple of two-liter bottles of Diet Coke for Amanda and tossed in a bag of Gracie’s favorite gummy candies. Other than Conrad’s monthly overnight visits, her life had been in a nice comfortable rut for the past thirteen years, and now it was one big mess after another. Paying him the million-dollar settlement would have been so much easier than all this, but then she would have never met Gracie—or Jamie and Amanda. The latter two were beginning to get under her skin, but not as much as that little dark-haired girl.

There was no way she could get from car to cabin without getting wet, so she embraced the rain, enjoying the feel of its warmth as it soaked her from head to toe. When she reached the door, she kicked it with her sandal and yelled, “Hey, Jamie or anyone in there, would you open the door, please?”

Her phone rang at the same time Gracie slung open the door. She recognized the ringtone as the one she had assigned to her mother, but it stopped before she could answer it.

“What’s in the bags?” Gracie asked.

“Wine for me and your mother. Diet Coke for Amanda and a bag of those sour candies that you like,” Kate said.

“Thank you, thank you.” Gracie wrapped her arms around Kate’s long legs. “I love you, Kate.”

“Not as much as I love you, Gracie.”

“I love you to the moon and back.” Gracie grinned.

“Well, I love you a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck,” Kate said.

Gracie drew her dark brows down over deep-brown eyes and asked, “Is that a lot?”

“More than to the moon and back,” Kate said.