“And I promised Gracie that we’d go back to Dallas after we get finished at the school and get some more of her clothing and toys, so we’ll be gone most of the day. Paul has given Lisa permission to go with us, and we’re planning on McDonald’s for supper. We’ll slip in and out and hopefully the police won’t slap the cuffs on us.” Jamie grinned and poured more wine in her glass.

“This is pretty serious stuff for y’all to be teasing about,” Kate said.

“Lighten up. We’re innocent.” Jamie held up her glass. “To never spending a day in jail.”

Kate poured more wine into her glass. “When I get this down, I’ll be mellow enough to call my mother back and talk to her some more about all this mess.”

Jamie chuckled. “I’d never get that mellow. Now my grandmother is a different story altogether. She raised me.”

“Why?” Amanda asked.

“Mama doesn’t have much sense when it comes to men, and most of her boyfriends didn’t like me. When I was four, she dropped me at Mama Rita’s place and never came back,” Jamie said.

“You mother didn’t fight for you?” Kate asked.

“No, ma’am. She signed the papers giving Mama Rita the right to adopt me.”

Amanda set her empty glass on the side table. “Sounds kind of like my situation, only my mama was sixteen when I was born and she lived with Aunt Ellie, who was her older sister. When she was nineteen, she married a man and she said she was coming back to get me in a few months. But then she had a couple of kids and she embraced his traditions that didn’t have room for a little red-haired stepdaughter,” Amanda said. “Aunt Ellie filed desertion papers when I was six and adopted me. I have no complaints. She raised me in a good home.”

“Where did your mom go?” Jamie asked.

“Iran. She met a man at a restaurant where she was working, and they fell in love. When he went back to his country, she went with him,” Amanda answered.

“Why would she leave you behind?” Kate asked.

Amanda shrugged. “Aunt Ellie said that she was pregnant again and the new husband wasn’t too keen on a stepdaughter.”

“Have you seen her since then?” Amanda asked.

Amanda shook her head. “No, she never came back to Texas. I get a Christmas card from her sometimes, but she never remembers my birthday. I have two half brothers I’ve never met. But you know what? It’s all good. Aunt Ellie was and is a good mother to me.”

“My father was a loving, sweet, gentle man,” Kate said. “My mother is the bulldog. I got a lot of my father’s trusting nature. Conrad never would have snowed Mother like he did me.”

“Or my Mama Rita, either, but I bet that he preyed on women who were vulnerable,” Jamie said.

“Probably so, but I’ve learned my lesson,” Kate said.

“Oh, yeah.” Jamie’s head bobbed up and down.

Amanda swiped at a lonely tear making its way down her cheek. “Damned hormones. Lately everything makes me weepy. I even cried over a television commercial about toilet paper, but those little bears were so cute.”

Kate picked up what was left of her wine and touched their glasses. “To the future.”

“To the future,” Amanda and Jamie said.

“And now to bed.” Kate stood up. “But first I’ll need an apple and a handful of Amanda’s sugar cookies.”

“Apple?” Amanda asked.

“If you eat fruit, it nullifies all the calories in cookies and wine. Like if you drink diet soda pop after or with a candy bar.” Kate grinned.

“She jokes.” Amanda pretended shock.

“Hey, now!” Kate teased, and it felt really good.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Waylon and Johnny had spent the whole afternoon on Friday getting the stagecoach ready to roll—cleaning it up and hitching the horses to it, taking it from the ranch to Bootleg, which took three hours, unhitching the horses and putting them in the vo-ag barn. Thank goodness for Paul’s offer to keep them there overnight.

He wished that Kate could have ridden up in the driver’s seat all the way to town with him that evening. But after that damned newspaper leak—which had to come from his office—there was no way their names could be linked as anything other than detective and suspect. At least not in public.

“If I had that damned columnist in my crosshairs, I would pull the trigger without blinking,” Waylon declared to the air that evening as he ate alone in his kitchen.

He was flipping through channels on the television when his phone pinged.

The message was from Kate. Princess Gracie has requested your presence at a living room movie showing.

Yes, he wrote back.

The next message said: Her Majesty would like pepperoni pizza, please and thank you.

He grinned as he typed in: Yes, be there in twenty minutes.

As long as he could see Kate and spend time with her, he didn’t care—on the lake, in the house, or out taking a drive in the rain.

He noticed that Jamie’s van was gone when he parked and wondered where she was as he jogged from his truck to the porch, pizza in hand. Before he could knock, Gracie swung the door open.

“Kate says for me to let you in. She’ll be here in a minute. She’s talking to her mama on the phone. Come on in out of the rain and put the pizza on the table,” Gracie said.

“Yes, ma’am. Where’s your mama?” Waylon asked.

While he unloaded the food, Kate walked up behind him.

His well-honed sixth sense, developed on the force, told him that she was there even before she spoke. That wonderful scent that she wore blended with the sweet coconut smell of her hair and the aura that belonged to no other woman in the universe sent his senses reeling.

“Gracie is babysitting us,” Kate said. “Amanda started having pains, so Jamie drove her to the hospital in Wichita Falls so they can monitor her for a few hours to be sure it’s not labor. They figure it’s Braxton-Hicks.”

“Well, then, Gracie, since you are the babysitter, do you think we can have some pizza and bread sticks?” Waylon asked.

Gracie sighed. “I thought you’d never get here. Can we put a quilt on the floor and watch our movie while we eat?”

“We sure can,” Kate answered.

“What are we watching?” Waylon carried the pizza boxes back to the living room. “Will the babysitter let us have a beer with our supper?”

“Of course.” Gracie giggled. “And I’m not really the sitter. Y’all are. Big people can have a beer, but little kids have to drink milk or juice. Can I please have a soda pop?”

Kate nodded. “Pizza does not go with milk or juice. You can have a Coke, but let’s make it one of the caffeine-free ones.”

“I don’t care if it’s got calves in it or not.” Gracie removed the quilt from the back of the sofa and spread it out on the floor. “We are watching Homeward Bound. Mama says it’s a good movie.”

“Isn’t that like twenty years old?” Waylon whispered.

“Twenty-four, to be exact, but you take what you can get at the convenience store rental. We don’t have cable television here at the cabin,” Kate answered.

“Let’s go to the movies, then.” Waylon nodded.

Gracie plopped down in the middle of the quilt and nodded toward the sofa. “You old people can sit there.”

“Ouch!” Waylon winced.

“Painful, isn’t it?” Kate nudged him with her shoulder as she passed.

By the end of the movie, Waylon wanted to marry Kate and adopt Gracie. They were both adorable all through the movie, crying when the cat, Sassy, was nearly killed, giggling at the antics of the young dog, Chance, and worrying about the older big yellow one, Shadow.

Gracie declared that as soon as they moved all their stuff to the cabin, she wanted a cat just like Sassy. Kate had fallen in love with Shadow, and Waylon wondered if she’d ever considered having a big dog.

As the credits rolled, Gracie yawned and crawled up in Kate’s lap. “I wish my mama was home. I’m sleepy and I don’t like going to bed all by myself.”