you what,” he proposed. “Let’s get you over to Wendy’s. She’s dying to see you.”
At least someone was, Katie thought.
Chapter Three
“On my God, just look at you,” Katie cried as she walked into Wendy’s bedroom.
After everything she’d heard about Wendy going into premature labor, Katie had expected to find her friend pale and languishing in bed. Instead, Wendy looked just the way she always did: bright and animated, and very, very pretty.
Wendy’s eyes crinkled the moment she heard the sound of Katie’s voice. She shifted in bed, excited to finally see her old friend.
“I know, I know, I’m as big as a house,” she lamented, only half kidding.
“I was going to say glowing,” Katie corrected tactfully. Granted, Wendy looked a bit larger than she had the last time they’d seen one another, but nowhere near Wendy’s self-deprecating description.
“But you were thinking that I looked as big as a house,” Wendy prodded. There was no way anyone walking into the room could miss this “bump,” which was currently the biggest thing about her.
Katie knew better than to argue. No one won arguments with Wendy. “Not a house,” she insisted. “Maybe a little cottage.” She held up her thumb and forefinger, keeping them about an inch apart.
With a laugh, Wendy held out her arms to her friend. Katie had always had a way of making her feel instantly better. Now was no exception. “Come here and give me a hug,” she implored.
It was all the invitation that Katie needed. Bending over, she embraced Wendy, giving her a heartfelt squeeze and holding on tightly for a moment. She really was very happy to finally see her.
“God, I’ve missed you,” she said fiercely, then, as she stepped back, she added in a lower, embarrassed voice, “I’m sorry I couldn’t come to the wedding.”
Wendy waved away the apology. “Being best friends means never having to say you’re sorry,” she said as if that was a given between them. And then she gave Blake an accusing look. “I know my slave-driving brother left you to hold down the fort.”
“I take exception to the term slave driver,” Blake protested. “And what can I say?” he added with a careless shrug. “Katie happens to be very good at her job.” And because she was, he had been able to fly to Red Rock for an extended week to attend his baby sister’s wedding along with the rest of his family.
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe you could have said, ‘Hey, Katie, since my sister’s your very oldest, dearest friend, forget about the fort.”
“It wasn’t the fort that needed holding down,” Katie told her. “We had a last minute problem with a customer demanding changes to a contract that was going out and someone in marketing was needed to handle it. I knew Blake didn’t want to miss your wedding, so I volunteered to stay behind and deal with the client,” Katie told her. “It was kind of my anonymous wedding present to you.”
“And in a way, it turned out for the best,” Blake pointed out. “If she’d come to the wedding, Katie would have been struck at the airport like the rest of us—and who knows? Maybe she would have even gotten hurt. The way I see it, maybe staying behind to deal with the client and smooth things out saved Katie’s life.”
Wendy rolled her eyes at his comment. “You’re really reaching there, Blake.”
Katie was nothing if not a born mediator and now was no exception. She sidelined any further discussion about something that couldn’t be changed by redirecting the conversation to the present. “Speaking of the tornado, is Javier doing any better now?”
“He’s finally conscious. It was touch and go for a while and I know Marcos was really worried that his brother might not come out of his coma.” She pressed her lips together. “We still don’t know how extensive the damage to his spine and legs really is. Right now, he can’t move them, but the doctor said this could just be due to some swelling along his spinal cord. Once that goes down, he should be able to walk again.” The key word here, she added silently, was should.
As if reading her unspoken thoughts, Katie said firmly, “Yes, he will.” Like Wendy, she believed in positive thought, taking it a step further. Positive thoughts yielded positive energy.
Wendy beamed. Though far from a negative person herself, there was something exceedingly uplifting about the upbeat tone in her friend’s voice. She caught Katie’s hand in hers for a moment and just held on.
“God, but it’s going to be good having you around,” she said with feeling.
“Speaking of which,” Katie said, looking at Blake, “you haven’t told me where I’m going to be staying. I’d like to drop off my things—”
“At Scott’s,” Blake surmised, mentioning where he was currently staying. At the same time, Wendy was saying something entirely different.
“Why, here, with me of course.” How could Blake even think she’d have her friend staying anywhere but with her? “Katie’s going to be staying at my house,” she said, reinforcing her initial words. “It’ll make visiting so much easier.”
He didn’t get it. Sure, she and Katie were friends, but he was family. He and Wendy shared the same blood. This wasn’t making any sense.
“She stays here but you just threw me out?” he protested.
“I didn’t ‘throw’ you out,” Wendy tactfully pointed out. “I ‘moved’ you out. There is a difference, and it’s because you were hovering over me all the time. Besides—” she looked at Katie again, so thrilled that she had actually made it out here “—Katie and I have a lot of catching up to do.”
Blake looked both hurt and insulted before he managed to hide it. “And you and I don’t?” he asked.
“There’s not all that much catching up to do, Blake,” she said tactfully, and then reminded him, “You’d only been gone from here a little more than a week before you came back, remember?”
Still, he was family and Katie wasn’t. “Not the point.”
Wendy sat up a little straighter and caught his hand. “You know I appreciate you coming back out here again to keep me company, Blake, I just don’t need to see you 24/7,” she told him. She tried to sound as kind as she could, then quickly added, “And I won’t be seeing Katie 24/7, either, because you’re going to be working the poor girl to death most of the time.” Switching gears, she looked at her friend and warned, “Don’t let him work you to death, you hear? I don’t care if he thinks he is your boss.”
“I don’t think I’m her boss,” Blake pointed out. “I am her boss.” What was that old saying? he tried to remember. Something about a prophet never being honored in his own town.
Caught in the middle, Katie thought it prudent to come to Blake’s defense. “He’s not a slave driver, Wendy. As far as bosses go, Blake’s pretty good.”
Blake inclined his head. “Thank you.” And then he
