Читать книгу Country Bride - Debbie Macomber - Страница 8

Two

Early 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 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.”

“I don’t understand.” Surely Luke knew what she was talking about, yet he seemed to enjoy watching her make an even bigger fool of herself by forcing her to explain.

“Well,” he said in an easy drawl, “if you only meant half of what you said, then it leads me to wonder what you did mean and what you didn’t.”

“I can’t remember everything I said,” she murmured, her cheeks hot enough to pop a batch of corn. “But I do know I’d greatly appreciate it if you’d forget the part about marrying me.”

“I don’t want to forget it.”

“Luke, please,” she cried, squeezing her eyes shut. “This is embarrassing me. Could you please drop it?”

Luke rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “I don’t think I can.”

So Luke was going to demand his pound of flesh. Kate supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. She had, after all, brought this on herself. “You were so kind to me at the reception... After the wedding ceremony you kept saying you wanted to help me and, Luke, you did, you honestly did. I don’t think I could’ve made it through Clay’s wedding without you, but...”

“You want to forget the kissing, too?”

“Yes, please.” She nodded emphatically.

He frowned. “That’s not what you said last night. In fact, you seemed a little stunned at how pleasant it was. As I recall you told me—and I quote—‘why didn’t you tell me you were so good at this?’”

“I said that?” Kate muttered, already knowing it was true.

“I’m afraid so.”

She covered her face with both hands as the hot color mounted in her cheeks.

“And you made me promise to marry you.”

She bit down hard on her lower lip. “Anyone else in the world would have mercifully forgotten I said that.”

With a certain degree of ceremony, Luke set his hat farther back on his head and folded his arms. His face was a study in concentration. “I have no intention of forgetting it. I’m a man of my word and I never break my promises.”

Kate groaned. In light of her father’s news this morning, she’d hoped Luke might be a bit more understanding. “It’s obvious you’re deriving pleasure from this,” she muttered angrily, then pressed her lips together to keep from saying more.

“No, not exactly. When would you like to have the wedding? And while we’re at it, you might as well learn now that—”

“You can’t be serious!” she interrupted, incredulous that he’d suggest they set a date. If this was a joke, he was carrying it too far.

“I’m dead serious. You asked me to marry you, I agreed, and anything less would be a breach of good faith.”

“Then I... I absolve you from your promise.” She waved her hands as if she was granting some kind of formal dispensation.

He stroked the side of his face, his forehead creased in a contemplative frown. “My word is my word and I stand firm on it.”

“I didn’t understand what I was saying—well, I did. Sort of. But you know as well as I do that the...heat of the moment was doing most of the talking.”

Luke’s frown deepened. “I suppose everybody in town will assume you’re marrying me on the rebound. Either that, or I’ll be the one they gossip about. That doesn’t trouble me much, but I don’t like the thought of folks saying anything about you.”

“Will you stop?” she cried. “I have no intention of marrying anyone! Ever!” She was finished with love, finished with romance. Thirty years from now she’d be living alone with a few cats and her knitting needles.

“That wasn’t what you said last night.”

“Would you quit saying that? I wasn’t myself, for heaven’s sake!”

“Well, our getting married sounded like a hell of a good idea to me. Now, I know you’ve gone through a hard time, but our marriage will end all that.”

Kate brushed a shaking hand across her eyes, hoping this was just part of a nightmare and she’d soon wake up. Unfortunately when she lowered her hand, Luke was still sitting there, as arrogant as could be. “I can’t believe we’re having this discussion. It’s totally unreasonable, and if you’re trying to improve my mood, you’ve failed.”

“I’m serious, Kate. I told you that.”

Keeping her head down, she spoke quickly, urgently. “It’s really wonderful of you to even consider going through with the marriage, but it isn’t necessary, Luke. More than anyone, you should know that I can’t marry you. Not when I love Clay Franklin.”

“Hogwash.”

Kate’s head jerked up. “I beg your pardon?”

“You’re in love with me. You just don’t know it yet.”

It took Kate only half a second to respond. “Of all the egotistical, vain, high-handed...” She paused to suck in a breath. If Luke’s intent was to shock her, he’d succeeded. She bolted to her feet and flailed the air with both hands. Unable to stand still, she started pacing the kitchen. “I don’t understand you. I’ve tried, honestly I’ve tried. One moment you’re the Rock of Gibraltar, steady and secure and everything I need, my best friend, and the next moment you’re saying the most ridiculous things to me. It never used to be like this! Why have you changed?”

“Is it really that bad?” he cajoled softly, ignoring her question.

“I don’t know what happened to you—to us—at the wedding reception, but like you said, something must’ve been in the air. Let’s blame it on the champagne and drop it before one of us gets hurt.”

“If you gave the idea of our getting married some serious thought, it might grow on you,” he suggested next.

Then he got to his feet and moved purposefully toward her, his mouth twisted in a cocky grin. “Maybe this will help you decide what’s best.”

“I—”

He laid a finger across her mouth. “It seems to me you’ve forgotten it’s not ladylike to be quite so stubborn.” With that, he slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her gently against him.

Knowing what he intended, Kate opened her mouth to protest, but he fastened his lips over hers, sealing off the words, and to her chagrin, soon erasing them altogether. Her fingers gripped the collar of his blue button-snap shirt and against every dictate of her will her mouth parted, welcoming his touch.

When he released her, it was a minor miracle that she didn’t collapse on the floor. He paused and a wide grin split his face.

“Yup,” he said, looking pleased, “you love me all right.”