Texas Blaze. Debbi Rawlins
but normally only when she saw his parents or the Colter name came up in conversation.
But he was different somehow. Her crush had been on a boy. Mitch was a man now. A damn good-looking man, who by merely showing up, had just thrown her a curveball she could never have anticipated. Had that cleft in his chin always been that deep? Or his voice so low and sexy? Her legs felt a bit wobbly, and it occurred to her that if she didn’t sit down soon, she might end up making a fool of herself.
“Chica, are you all right?” Maria’s concerned voice came from behind.
Kate spun around and saw the older woman with one of her young grandchildren tightly clasping her hand. “Yes, I was just looking for Dennis.” Kate smiled at the child. “Hello, Hilda, are you having fun?”
The little girl nodded, her mouth curving in a toothless grin. Maria continued to stare speculatively at Kate. After being the Manning’s housekeeper for over twenty-five years, not much got by her. When Kate’s parents had been killed in a car accident, Maria had been there to cradle her as she sobbed uncontrollably for hours.
“Have you seen him?” Kate asked, her pulse finally starting to slow down. “Dennis?”
Shrugging her plump shoulders, Maria shook her head. She didn’t like Dennis, Kate knew. Neither did her brothers, even though no one had said a word to her. Maybe that was the reason for her earlier funk. He’d not only disappointed her this weekend by showing up late, but he’d disappointed them, and that didn’t help. She’d tried to tell them that Dennis was a nice man with a good sense of humor, and all the other things that made her care for him, but in her heart she knew her family thought of her as a kid, and that no man would ever please them.
“Go on,” Kate said, making a shooing gesture with her hand. “I’m fine. Enjoy the fireworks. They’re almost over.”
Anxious to be away from Maria’s knowing eyes, Kate quickly wove her way into the crowd, trying to remember the color of his shirt. Brown, maybe? That wouldn’t help much. Half the men here were wearing dark colors. Dennis wasn’t nearly as tall as Mitch, or so muscular that he could easily lift her in the air. Nor did he have thick sable hair and slate-gray eyes that seemed to darken along with his mood. And there was no comparing Mitch’s strong square jaw to…
Briefly closing her eyes, she gritted her teeth. She had to stop this. Not only was her sudden preoccupation unfair to Dennis, but she was only making herself crazy. God, how she wanted a margarita, or a beer. Anything with alcohol would do. Tequila. One shot would calm her nerves. Hell, one shot would probably put her to sleep. She occasionally drank a glass of wine, and she loved a slushy margarita with Mexican food, but that was pretty much it.
She didn’t care. Her nerves were buzzing like angry bees, and she needed the respite of blessed numbness. Heading straight for the refreshment booth, she avoided eye contact as much as possible, but smiled politely when necessary. She slipped behind the bar and found the tequila. After pouring some in a paper cup, she noticed Sylvia Crabtree eyeing her with interest. The woman had a heart of gold but was also capable of spreading gossip faster than the Internet. Kate resisted the urge to slam back the shot of tequila, smiled at the woman instead, then walked away without the drink. Silly, because why should she care what anyone thought? But she did, and that fact wasn’t going to change just because she recognized the foolishness of it.
She kept a watchful eye out for Dennis. Most people were focused on the color displays in the sky, while still sitting on the blankets they had spread out for their picnic suppers. She’d already checked out the groups of cowhands standing near the tent with beers in their hands. Anyway, she doubted Dennis would be wasting his time talking with the help.
Oh, brother, she really had to knock off the uncharitable thoughts. Yes, she was angry enough to scream, but she suspected guilt over her reaction to Mitch had more to do with her readiness to pick Dennis apart.
The area behind the bunkhouse seemed to be deserted, the perfect place where she could be alone with her thoughts, pull herself together before saying her goodbyes to everyone. The fireworks would be over in two minutes and the crowd would thin quickly. She’d find Dennis then.
She leaned back against the bunkhouse wall of rust-stained cedar, and closed her eyes, intent on savoring the moment. At the same time, a man’s voice came from around the side of the bunkhouse that faced away from the crowd.
Dennis’s voice.
Her eyes flew open. She listened, waiting. Trying to convince herself she’d been mistaken. A second later, coming from the same direction, a woman laughed softly.
Kate pushed away from the wall and stood perfectly still. Surely she’d only imagined Dennis’s voice. What would he be doing there at the side of the bunkhouse? It didn’t make sense. Again, hushed voices and laughter drifted toward her. She struggled for her next breath. Perhaps her body had acknowledged what her mind refused to accept.
Slowly she forced herself to take a step toward the sound. She moved quietly, dreading what she might find. Right as she got to the corner of the bunkhouse, before she rounded the corner, she took a deep breath, fortifying herself. Then she ducked around the corner. The darkness and the ancient oak tree both obscured her view. By the same token, she wasn’t visible, either, and she waited another second, listening and hoping she’d imagined the whole thing.
“I have to get back.” It was Dennis’s voice. “I think the fireworks are almost over.”
“Hmm, not yet,” the woman whispered seductively.
“Damn, you’re making this hard.”
The woman laughed. “That’s the point.”
Kate’s heart twisted in a queasy knot. It was obvious what was going on behind the tree. She told herself she should just leave. Why humiliate herself by letting them know she was here? But she couldn’t move. She could barely breathe.
Damn him. This was her house, her property, her party. Why make it easy for him by not letting him see her? She loosened her fists, unaware that she had clenched them, and lifting her chin, stepped out into the open.
The woman’s back was to Kate. A blur of blond hair and curves, and an indecently short denim skirt. Dennis was pressed against her, kissing her, running his hands down her back. Even though a shadow muted his face, Kate knew the second he noticed her.
He straightened and then jerked away from the woman. “Jesus.”
“Bastard.” Kate’s voice came out a whisper. She couldn’t deny she wanted to slap him. Instead, she backed away.
“Wait.” Dennis rushed toward her. “Kate, please, this isn’t what it looks like.”
Every ounce of her wanted to run, hide until the scene faded from her memory, but she stopped, a hint of hysteria bubbling inside her. Calmly, she said, “Then what is it?”
His face was clear to her now, the pallor of his skin, the fear in his eyes largely satisfying. He stared mutely at her. Then he lifted a hand to touch her, and she jumped back, unable to trust herself to remain genteel.
“Leave, Dennis. Now.”
“We need to talk.”
Without another word, she turned and headed back toward the house, praying her legs would carry her the entire way.
2
MITCH MOVED FARTHER BACK into the cover of the shadows, clenching his fists in helpless rage. Hidden, he waited until Kate had passed by, the man who was obviously her fiancé right behind her, before Mitch dared to relax his hands. The blonde who’d been with the scumbag wandered off in the opposite direction. Mitch had no quarrel with her. Who knew what the two-timing bastard had told her?
Not that Mitch had the right to stick his nose into Kate’s business. She’d be mortified to learn that anyone had witnessed her fiancé’s betrayal. Still, he wasn’t reacting any differently than Clint or Joe would have. Either one of her brothers would have laid the guy flat already.