Country Brides (19 page)

“Kiss me again, okay?”

“Kate, no.”

“Please?”

“Kate, you're drunk.”

“And I tell you I'm not.” The one glass of champagne had been just enough to make her a little…reckless. It felt so good to surrender to these new emotions—to lean on Luke. From the moment they'd arrived at the wedding, he'd been telling her how much she needed him. Maybe he was right. There'd been so much upheaval in her life, and Luke was here, warm and kind and solid.

“I'm going to drive you home,” he insisted. From the sound of his voice, Kate could tell he was growing frustrated.

The house would be dark and cold. How Kate feared being alone, and with Clay out of her life, there was only her father. And Luke. If Devin did decide to marry Mrs. Murphy, he might sell the ranch and then Luke would be gone, too. Alarmed at the thought, she placed her hands on his shoulders, her gaze holding his.

“Kate?” Luke coaxed.

“All right, I'll go back to the house, but on one condition.”

“Kate, come on, be reasonable.”

“I want you to do something for me. You keep telling me you're my friend and how much you want to help….”

“Just get inside the truck, would you, before someone comes along and finds us arguing?”

“I need your promise first.”

Luke ignored her. “You 've got a reputation to uphold. You can't let people in Nightingale see you tipsy. The school board will hear about this and that'll be the end of your career.”

Kate smiled, shaking her head, then impulsively leaned forward and kissed him again. Being with Luke took the hurt away, and she refused to suffer that kind of pain ever again. “Will you please do what I want?”

“All right,” he muttered, clearly exasperated. “What is it?”

“Oh, thank you,” she murmured, and sighed expressively. This was going to shock him, but no more than it had already shocked her. She didn't know where the idea had come from, but it seemed suddenly, inarguably right.

Kate smiled at him, her heart shining through her eyes. “It 's simple really. All I want you to do is marry me.”

E
arly the following day, Devin Logan walked hesitantly into the kitchen where Kate sat drinking her first cup of coffee. She smiled a greeting. “Morning, Dad.”

“Morning, Princess.” He circled the table twice before he sat down.

Kate watched him curiously, then rose to pour him a cup of coffee and bring it to the table. It was a habit she'd begun after her mother's death several years earlier.

“Did you and Mrs. Murphy have a good time last night?” Kate asked, before her father could comment on the rumors that were sure to be circulating about her and Luke Rivers. She hadn't seen Luke yet, but she would soon enough, and she was mentally bracing herself for the confrontation. What a fool she'd made of herself. She cringed at the thought of her marriage proposal and didn't doubt for a second that Luke was going to take a great deal of delight in tormenting her about it. She suspected it would be a long while before he let her live this one down.

“Looks like rain,” Devin mumbled.

Kate grinned good-naturedly, wondering at her father's strange mood. “I asked you about last night, not about the weather.”

Devin's eyes flared briefly with some unnamed emotion, which he quickly disguised. His gaze fell to the steaming mug cupped in his hands.

“Dad? Did you and Mrs. Murphy enjoy yourselves?”

“Why, sure, we had a grand time,” he said with forced enthusiasm.

Kate waited for him to elaborate. Instead he reached for the sugar bowl and resolutely added three heaping teaspoons to his mug. He stirred it so briskly the coffee threatened to slosh over the edge. All the while, he stared blankly into space.

Kate didn't know what to make of Devin's unusual behavior. “Dad,” she said, trying again, “is there something on your mind?”

His eyes darted about the room, reluctantly settling on Kate. “What makes you ask that?”

“You just added sugar to your coffee. You've been drinking it sugarless for forty years.”

He glared down at the mug, surprise written on his tanned face. “I did?”

“I saw you myself.”

“I did,” he repeated firmly, as if that was what he'd intended all along. “I, ah, seem to have developed a sweet tooth lately.”

It was becoming apparent to Kate that her father's experience at Clay's and Rorie's wedding reception must have rivaled her own. “Instead of beating around the bush all morning, why don't you just tell me what's on your mind?”

Once more, her father lowered his eyes, then nodded and swallowed tightly. “Dorothea and I had…a long talk last night,” he began haltingly. “It all started innocently enough. Then again, I'm sure the wedding and all the good feelings floating around Clay and Rorie probably had a lot to do with it.” He paused to take a sip of his coffee, grimacing at its sweetness. “The best I can figure, we started talking seriously after Nellie Jackson came by and told Dorothea and me that we made a handsome couple. At least that's what I remember.”

“It's true,” Kate said kindly. Personally she would have preferred her father to see someone who resembled her mother a bit more, but Mrs. Murphy was a pleasant, gentle woman and Kate was fond of her.

Her father smiled fleetingly. “Then the champagne was passed around and Dorothea and I helped ourselves.” He paused, glancing at Kate as if that explained everything.

“Yes,” Kate said, hiding a smile, “go on.”

Slowly Devin straightened, and his eyes, forthright and unwavering, held hers. “You know I loved your mother. When Nora died, there was a time I wondered if I could go on living without her, but I have, and so have you.”

“Of course you have, Dad.” Suddenly it dawned on Kate exactly where this conversation was leading. It shouldn't have surprised her, and yet…Kate's heart was beginning to hammer uncomfortably. Her father didn't need to say another word; she knew what was coming as surely as if he'd already spoken the words aloud. He was going to marry Dorothea Murphy.

“Your mother's been gone nearly five years now and, well, a man gets lonely,” her father continued. “I 've been thinking about doing some traveling and, frankly, I don't want to do it alone.”

“You should've said something earlier, Dad,” Kate interjected. “I'd have loved traveling with you. Still would. That's one of the nice things about being a teacher,” she rambled on. “My summers are free. And with Luke watching the ranch, you wouldn't have any worries about what's happening at home and—”

“Princess.” His spoon made an irritating clicking sound against the sides of the ceramic mug, but he didn't seem to notice. “I asked Dorothea to marry me last night and she's graciously consented.”

After only a moment's hesitation, Kate found the strength to smile and murmur, “Why, Dad, that's fantastic.”

“I realize it's going to be hard on you, Princess—so soon after Clay's wedding and all. I want you to know I have no intention of abandoning you—you'll always be my little girl.”

“Of course you aren't abandoning me.” Tears edged their way into the corners of Kate's eyes and a cold numbness moved out from her heart and spread through her body. “I 'm happy for you. Really happy.” She meant it, too, but she couldn't help feeling a sense of impending loss. All the emotional certainties seemed to be disappearing from her life.

Her father gently squeezed her hand. “There are going to be some other changes, as well, I'm afraid. I'm selling the ranch.”

Kate gasped before she could stop herself. He'd just confirmed all her fears. She'd lost Clay to another woman; now she was about to lose her father, and her home, too. Then another thought crystallized in her mind, a thought that had been half formed the night before. If the ranch was sold, Luke would be gone, too.

Clay. Her father. The Circle L. Luke. Everyone and everything she loved, gone in a matter of hours. It was almost more than she could absorb. Pressing her hand over her mouth, she blinked back the tears.

“Now I don't want you to concern yourself,” her father hurried to add. “You 'll always have a home with me. Dorothea and I talked it over and we both want you to feel free to live with us in town as long as you like. You'll always be my Princess, and Dorothea understands that.”

“Dad,” Kate muttered, laughing and crying at the same time. “That 's ridiculous. I'm twenty-four years old and perfectly capable of living on my own.”

“Of course you are, but—”

She stopped him by raising her hand. “There's no need to discuss it further. You and Dorothea Murphy are going to be married, and…I couldn't be happier for you. Don't you worry about me. I'll find a place of my own in town and make arrangements to move as soon as I can.”

Her father sighed, clearly relieved by her easy acceptance of his plans. “Well, Princess,” he said with a grin, “I can't tell you how pleased I am. Frankly, I was worried you'd be upset.”

“Oh, Dad…”

Still grinning broadly, Devin stroked the side of his jaw. “Dorothea isn't a bit like your mother—I don't know if you're aware of that or not. Fact is, the only reason I asked her out that first time was so she'd invite me over for some of her peach cobbler. Then before I knew it, I was making excuses to get into town and it wasn't because of her cobbler, either.”

Kate made an appropriate reply, although a minute later she wasn't sure what she'd said. Soon afterward, her father kissed her cheek and then left the house, telling her he'd be back later that afternoon.

She poured herself a second cup of coffee and leaned against the kitchen counter, trying to digest everything that was happening to her well-organized life. She felt as though her whole world had been uprooted and flung about—as though a hurricane had landed in Nightingale.

Wandering aimlessly from room to room, she paused in front of the bookcase, where a photograph of her mother stood. Tears blurred her eyes as she picked it up and clutched it to her chest. Wave upon wave of emotion swept through her, followed by a flood of hot tears.

She relived the overwhelming grief she'd felt at her mother's death, and she was furious with her father for letting another woman take Nora's place in his life. At the same time, she couldn't begrudge him his new happiness.

Mrs. Murphy wasn't the type of woman Kate would have chosen for her father, but then she wasn't doing the choosing. Suddenly resolute, Kate dragged in a deep breath, exhaling the fear and uncertainty and inhaling acceptance of this sudden change in both their lives.

The back door opened and instinctively Kate closed her eyes, mentally composing herself. It could only be Luke, and he was the last person she wanted to see right now.

“Kate?”

With trembling hands, she replaced the faded photograph and wiped the tears from her face. “Good morning, Luke,” she said as she entered the kitchen.

Luke had walked over to the cupboard and taken down a mug. “Your father just told me the news about him and Mrs. Murphy,” he said carefully. “Are you going to be all right?”

“Of course. It's wonderful for Dad, isn't it?”

“For your father yes, but it must be a shock to you so soon…”

“After Clay and Rorie,” she finished for him. Reaching for the coffeepot, she poured his cup and refilled her own. “I 'm going to be just fine,” she repeated, but Kate didn't know whether she was telling him this for his benefit or her own. “Naturally, the fact that Dad's marrying Dorothea means a few changes in all our lives, but I'll adjust.”

“I haven't seen your father this happy in years.”

Kate did her best to smile through the pain. “Yes, I know.” To her horror tears formed again, and she lowered her eyes and blinked wildly in an effort to hide them.

“Kate?”

She whirled around and set her coffee aside, then started wiping invisible crumbs from the perfectly clean kitchen counter.

Luke's hands settled on her shoulders, and before she knew what was happening, Kate had turned and buried her face against his clean-smelling denim shirt. A single sob shook her shoulders and she gave a quivering sigh, embarrassed to be breaking down in front of him like this.

“Go on, baby,” he whispered gently, his hands rubbing her back, “let it out.”

She felt like such a weakling to be needing Luke so much, but he was so strong and steady, and Kate felt as helpless as a rowboat tossed in an angry sea.

“Did…did you know Dad might sell the ranch?” she asked Luke.

“Yes.” His voice was tight. “When did he tell you?”

“This morning, after he said he was marrying Mrs. Murphy.”

“You don't have to worry about it.”

“But I do,” she said, sobbing brokenly. She felt Luke's chin caress the crown of her head and she snuggled into his warm, safe embrace. Luke was her most trusted friend. He'd seen her through the most difficult day of her life.

The thought of Clay and Rorie's wedding flashed into her mind, and with it came the burning memory of her marriage proposal to Luke. She stiffened in his arms, mortified at the blatant way she'd used him, the way she'd practically begged him to take care of her—to marry her. Breaking free of his arms, she straightened and offered him a watery smile.

“What would I do without you, Luke Rivers?”

“You won't ever need to find out.” He slid his arms around her waist and gently kissed the tip of her nose. His smile was tender. “There must've been something in the air last night. First us, and now your father and Mrs. Murphy.”

“About us,” she began carefully. She drew in a steadying breath, but her eyes avoided Luke's. “I hope you realize that when I asked you to marry me I…didn't actually mean it.”

He went very still and for a long moment he said nothing. “I took you seriously, Kate.”

Kate freed herself from his arms and reached for her coffee, gripping the mug tightly. “I'd had too much champagne.”

“According to you, it was only one glass.”

“Yes, but I drank it on an empty stomach, and with all the difficult emotions the wedding brought out, I…I simply wasn't myself.”

Luke frowned. “Oh?”

“No, I wasn't,” she said, feigning a light laugh. “The way we were dancing and the way I clung to you, and…and kissed you. That's nothing like me. I'm not going to hold you to that promise, Luke.”

As if he found it difficult to remain standing, Luke turned a chair around and straddled it with familiar ease. Kate claimed the chair opposite him, grateful to sit down. Her nerves were stretched to the breaking point. Luke draped his forearms over the back of his chair, cupping the hot mug with both hands, and studied Kate with an intensity that made her blush.

“Listen,” Kate said hesitantly, “you were the perfect gentleman and I want you to know how much I appreciate everything you did. But…I didn't mean half of what I said.”

The sun-marked crow's feet at the corners of his eyes fanned out as Luke smiled slowly, confidently. “Now that raises some interesting questions.”