out. Naturally, Lisa had gotten her story. The woman could charm the fangs off a rattlesnake.
Dory Richards was right behind her, a direct contrast in torn, faded jeans, a baggy dark T-shirt and black running shoes. She looked as if she hadn’t brushed her long brown hair in a week, but then she’d always looked that way. A perpetual tomboy, even the few times she’d dated in college, Dory had never bothered with makeup or the latest clothing styles.
From the other side of the car, Jessica Mead rounded the hood of the car. Kate almost didn’t recognize her. The woman had totally transformed herself. Oozing sophistication and glamour, her hair was pulled into a fashionable French twist and her tailored sleeveless linen dress obviously hadn’t come off the rack. Absurdly high heels made her a good five inches taller than her college days of scruffy jeans and tennis shoes.
“Kate!” Dory noticed her first, rushing to her and nearly knocking her over in her enthusiasm. “You cut your hair.”
“Gosh, I did that over two years ago. I can’t believe it’s been five years. We swore we’d never let that much time go by.”
Lisa and Jessica joined them in a group hug, and then they dragged their luggage from the trunk of the car into the foyer. Lisa had a medium bag, Dory a small one, but Jessica looked as if she’d packed for a week.
“Very nice,” Lisa said, ducking her head to scan the formal living room off to the right. “Not exactly how I pictured a ranch house.”
Kate chuckled. “We never go in there. My mom insisted that we keep one room pristine for unexpected company.” Her parents had been gone for thirteen years now, but neither she nor her brothers had the heart to swap out the stuffy, impractical furniture. “Now, the rest of the house…well…just remember I have two brothers who live here.”
“Come on. Let’s see it.” Jessica held out her hand, and when Kate gave her a puzzled frown, Jessica sighed. “The ring, sweetie, show us the ring.”
“Oh.” Kate promptly held out her hand and wiggled her fingers, making the diamond sparkle.
“Wow, nice rock. They must pay school principals pretty damn well around here.” Lisa gave her a low five.
“I’ll say.” Jessica smiled. “He’s got my approval already.”
Dory teasingly rolled her eyes. “You’re so easy.”
“We are so not going there,” Lisa said, and everyone laughed, and then Jessica tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn.
“Sorry,” she murmured. “I’ve been working a lot lately.”
“You’re always working.” Lisa checked her watch. “What’s local time?”
Jessica looked at her in annoyed disbelief. “Look who’s talking.”
Dory shook her head. “Oh, here we go.”
“You guys must all be exhausted,” Kate cut in, still the peacemaker of the group. “The ninety-minute drive from Houston is bad enough, especially after a long plane ride.” She picked up one of Jessica’s bags. “Let me show you to your rooms. Take your time freshening up and then we’ll have some iced tea and talk.”
Impulsively, she set the bag back down and opened her arms for another group hug. It really was good to see them all together. Surely that was the reason for the emotion welling up inside of her. And nothing to do with misgivings.
1
TWO DAYS AGO Dory Richards had been swatting at mosquitoes in the humid jungles of Cambodia. Today she was in hot, dry West Texas. Good thing she slept well on planes. With all the traveling she’d been doing for the past three years, she’d quickly learned how to cheat jet lag.
Anxious to make the most of her long weekend, she didn’t bother unpacking her suitcase. So her clothes would be a bit wrinkled. It wasn’t as if she’d stoop to ironing them. Besides, she’d brought only jeans and T-shirts and two denim blouses. This was a ranch, after all, and she couldn’t imagine people getting too dressed up for the Fourth of July festivities.
She’d almost made it out of the guest room she’d been assigned when she caught a glimpse of her hair in the dresser mirror. The scary mess stopped her, and she conceded to dragging a brush through the long unruly strands before gathering the whole thing into a sloppy ponytail.
As soon as she stepped into the hall she heard kitchen noises and followed the clang of pots and pans, and a stream of excited Spanish. She found her friend Kate in the middle of the chaos, an apron around her slender waist and a wooden spoon in one hand as she rattled on in Spanish to a young olive-skinned woman kneading dough at the island counter.
Three other women were in the large modern kitchen, one busy at the stainless steel stove, stirring something in a huge pot, and the other two shucking corn. They looked up, smiled at her and kept working.
“Need another pair of hands?” Dory asked.
Kate spun around, her mouth twisting wryly. “I just might have to take you up on that.” She set down the spoon on the mauve-and-cream granite countertop and reached around to loosen her apron. “I’d really hoped to be more organized before you and Lisa and Jessica arrived so that we could visit more.”
Dory stopped her. “Hey, don’t worry about us. I’m ready to roll up my sleeves.”
Kate shook her head. “I’m usually so much better at this. I should be. Our family has only hosted the event for fifty years now.” She sighed. “I’ve been too distracted.”
“Gee, I can’t imagine why.” Dory grinned. “I can’t believe you’re gonna get married in six months.”
“Me, neither.” The fleeting look of panic on Kate’s face startled Dory. Kate slid a glance at the shorter, plump woman standing at the sink, suds up to her elbows and eyeing Kate with troubled black eyes. Kate smiled brightly and shrugged. “I had to do something to get us all together. Dory, this is Maria. She’s been with our family forever.”
They exchanged pleasantries, and then the woman went back to work and Dory studied Kate, wondering what the heck was going on. A couple of weeks ago Kate had called the gang, excited as all get out over her engagement. But something was wrong. “I can’t believe we let five years go by,” Dory said, frustrated. With a kitchen full of ears, now wasn’t the time for Dory to voice her concern. “Give me something to do,” she said. “Maybe later we’ll have time to talk.”
Kate’s eyebrows went up in amusement. “You ever learn how to cook?”
“Ah, well…there’s gotta be something else I can—”
The back door opened and everyone turned to look at the tall, broad-shouldered man who walked in, promptly removed his Stetson and shoved a hand through his longish dark hair. Well over six feet, he wore snug jeans, cowboy boots and a killer smile. “Morning, ladies.”
The young woman kneading dough blushed to the roots of her raven hair.
“Clint Manning, you better have wiped off your boots, or so help me—”
“Now, Katie,
