She didn’t only want it. She needed it.

“You are not a priest,” Teresa said.

“Folks other than the clergy take a year off every now and then. You said the murder thing surrounding me right now could ruin my reputation, and I need some time.”

“I swear, you sound and act more like your father every day that you live. I’ve tried and tried to make you tough and ready to take over the business, but I’m . . .”

“I told you so.” Kate laughed.

“What?”

“You’re working around to saying the words, so spit them out. Maybe you should repeat them about a dozen times for future use so we don’t have to go through this whole thing again.”

Silence on the other end of the phone.

“Mother?” Kate held the phone out to make sure her battery wasn’t dead.

“You can’t talk to me like that,” Teresa hissed. “I’m your boss.”

“And you are my mother, but I’m forty-four years old and a grown woman. Just say the words and then we can get on with our conversation,” Kate said.

“I don’t say that every time we talk,” Teresa argued.

“I can count on the fingers of one hand the times when you didn’t. Mother, did you ever want to be anything other than what you are?”

“What kind of fool question is that? And don’t change the subject.”

Kate flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. “Did you ever want to be a nurse or a teacher or maybe even a stay-at-home mother?”

“I did not.” Teresa said each word distinctively. “I wanted to grow up and run this business just like my mother did and like you will be doing before long. What has come over you? Surely to God you weren’t serious about selling the company. Do you realize how long it’s been in our family?”

“Since the oil boom days, which makes it almost a hundred years,” Kate answered. “It started out as Texas Oil, and then it was—”

“I don’t need a history lesson,” Teresa snapped.

“I’ve hauled hay here, and a few days ago I spent the day driving a tractor. It made me wonder if I chose the profession I’m in or if you chose it for me.”

“I told you that a trip to that backwoods place was a mistake,” Teresa fumed.

“And there it is.” Kate chuckled. She could imagine her mother pacing the floor in her office, her eyes narrowed and her forehead wrinkled as she tried to figure out a way to manipulate Kate into coming home early. “It’s probably the single smartest thing I’ve ever done. A bit unorthodox, having friends that were married to the same man at the same time I was, but all the same, I’ve made friends in the short time I’ve been here. Real, honest-to-God friends who don’t give a shit if I have money or if I’m poor as a church mouse.”

“Those other women, either one of whom could have killed Conrad, are not your friends,” Teresa said.

“There are more people in this town than Amanda and Jamie.”

“I’m hanging up now, and Katherine Elizabeth Steele, you had better get your head on straight,” Teresa said.

The phone went silent, and Kate tossed it to one side. “Way I figure it is that my head might be on straighter than it’s ever been, even if I do forget where I’m going.” She finished off her coffee and headed down the hallway with plans to get dressed and go to the ranch to help get things ready for Gracie’s big day.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Kate found herself pretending that she really lived there on the ranch and that this whole day had been her idea. She waved when Hattie and Victor arrived, and Waylon hurried out to help them carry things into the house. Before she could go pitch in to help, Paul drove up with Lisa and they jumped out, bouncing around like rabbits. Right behind them were Gracie and Jamie, and it didn’t take her long to get out of the van and grab Lisa’s hand.

The feeling inside Kate’s heart was a good one, even if it wasn’t real.

“I love it here,” Lisa yelled. “Daddy, we need a place just like this, and there’s the stagecoach in the backyard. Can me and Gracie go see it?”

“Of course you can, but stay right close to it. Don’t wander off out of the yard.”

Lisa and Gracie joined hands like always and ran around the side of the house.

This was what it could have been like if she’d married someone like Waylon. What was it that poem said about two paths? The author had chosen the one least traveled. She wished she’d done the same—forsaken the road that her grandmother and mother had paved and taken the dirt one with all the rocks and potholes.

Jamie was so aware that Paul was walking toward her that she didn’t know what to do. Should she stop right there or meet him? In only half a dozen long strides, he was in front of her, that brilliant smile lighting up the whole countryside around them.

“Was Gracie dancing with excitement all morning?” Paul asked.

“Oh, yes. She watched the clock hands, and every five seconds she wanted to know how much longer it was until we could leave.” Jamie started toward Victor’s car to help carry a third huge container into the house.

“I’ll get that,” Paul said.

“Take that one around the house and to the stagecoach. We’re strapping it down on top,” Victor yelled as he came out of the house. “What we carried inside is a snack that Hattie is putting out on the screened porch. It’ll take a while to get back to the creek, and the kids will be too excited to eat the first hour.”

Jamie waited until Paul had gotten out of sight and headed straight for the porch, where Kate sat with a big, cheesy grin on her face. “Okay, spill it. Was this really Waylon’s idea?”

“Classified, but I can tell you that it wasn’t Paul’s, so you don’t have to worry about him stalking you or planning to con you out of something,” Kate answered. “You do look cute today. I haven’t seen that sundress and those sandals. Did you get all dressed up for someone special?”

“That classified thing can work both ways. We like being around each other, and we have some of the same interests. It would be real easy to be friends. But Kate, we both know this other thing should be settled before either of us even takes baby steps into a relationship, whether friendship or serious.”

“Hey.” Kate put up her palms. “You are preaching to the choir.”

“Just sayin’,” Jamie said.

Too bad saying didn’t always convince the person who was doing the talking.

Hattie poked her head out the door. “Y’all come on in here and call in the young’uns. I’ve got a little sack with a juice box and a cookie for them to eat in the stagecoach. That much won’t ruin their dinner.”

Kate’s heart hurt for Hattie. Her grandchildren and Victor’s lived so far away that they couldn’t have a day like this with them. Did Teresa ever look back and wish that Kate’s baby had survived so that they could pass the company on down to her?

I am the end of the line, Kate thought. There is no one past me. I’d never thought of that.

So what’s the difference if you sell it now or if it’s sold and the proceeds go to the charity of your choice when you are dead? her father’s voice inside her head asked.

“I’m glad that I planned this,” Waylon whispered behind her, close enough that she got a whiff of his shaving lotion and the warmth of his breath tickled the soft skin on her neck.

“Jamie is onto Victor and Hattie,” she said.

“Did I hear my name?” Jamie asked.

Paul’s grin deepened the few crow’s-feet around his eyes. “You did hear me mention your name. I was telling Victor that I’m glad you decided to stay in Bootleg.”

“Saved by the bell,” Waylon whispered.

“Thank goodness,” Kate said.

“They sure look like they’re having a good time out there.” Waylon tapped Kate on the shoulder and pointed toward the stage. “I’d thought about a make-believe stagecoach robbery, though I was afraid it would scare the girls. Instead I’ve got unloaded BB guns for them to do their own pretending.”