The Barefoot Summer

“Hush!” Jamie hissed. “I get flushed when I’m hungry. Right now I’m thinking about moving to a little church when I go home. I cannot believe how these folks are treating us.”

“He makes you nervous,” Amanda singsonged and then lowered her voice to a whisper. “And in church and so soon after widowhood.”

“I’ve been a widow for months. Ever since you came into the picture,” Jamie said.

“You mean—” Amanda asked.

“Only a few times, and only because I insisted,” Jamie said.

“Well, damn!” Amanda rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Forgive me, Lord! I didn’t mean to cuss in church.”

“Did you think you were the only one he was sleeping with?”

“No, but”—Amanda’s pert nose wrinkled—“don’t it bother you that he . . . well, you know?”

“Not anymore,” Jamie said.

“Let’s think about food and put off this conversation until later. I’m too big to dodge lightning bolts,” Amanda said.

“Why are these people being so nice?” Kate whispered as she carried more desserts out to the tables.

Amanda shrugged. “It’s simply the way things are done. Now, if there had been no Iris, things might be different.”

“Then thank you, Jesus, for Iris,” Kate said. “This food all looks scrumptious.”

“And I get to eat for two.” Amanda grinned.

“Lucky girl,” Jamie and Kate said at the same time.



Kate felt privileged to sit beside Gracie, who kept a running conversation going with Lisa on the other side of her. Across the table, Victor had finagled it so that Jamie and Paul were side by side. Of course, Hattie, Victor, and Amanda were all at the same table with them and close enough they could talk about summer, the upcoming festival, and the food.

No one said a word about Conrad, and Kate was glad for that. She had enough to think about with those letters in her suitcase and still no decision about whom to give them to or whether or not to share them with Amanda and Jamie or tell Waylon about them. She had sent the will by registered mail down to the legal department at the oil firm, and she’d gotten word that they had received it. Hopefully by the middle of the week, they’d know how to handle it, since Darcy was deceased.

“So how long have you been at the Bootleg school?” Jamie asked Paul.

“Twelve years. Came here right out of college and stayed. My grandmother lives in Seymour and owns rental property up here and down there, too, so I have family close by. I was raised out around Amarillo, and I got to admit it took a while, but I learned to like the rural way of life pretty quick,” Paul answered.

“And I was raised in this area and wound up in Dallas. Strange how we go looking for something different.” Waylon sat down beside Paul. Kate’s pulse quickened when he glanced her way. “Hello, Kate and everyone else.”

“Glad to see you here,” Paul said.

“How’d your students do at the spring livestock show this spring? Got any showing during the summer?” Waylon asked Paul.

“They did real well at the show. Several of the cattle and sheep got ribbons and trophies,” Paul said. “No one is doing anything this summer. I’m kind of glad. What with the fire and all, I’m pretty busy.”

“Got any guys that’d be willing to do some hay hauling, send them out to my place. Looks like I’ve got a bumper crop coming in,” Waylon said.

“Maybe. I’ll ask around, and if I find any, I’ll tell them to call you. You going to be in town all week or down in Dallas chasing bad guys?” Paul glanced at Jamie.

“Back and forth. Got hay to get into the barns, but we’re still looking into leads in the case,” he answered.

Well, la-di-da, Kate thought. That’s more than you’ve told us. We don’t get even that much when we ask. Until you start telling us something, I won’t share the letters, and believe me, what’s in those could help.





CHAPTER TEN

I love potlucks, but I will be so glad to get home and get out of my Sunday clothes,” Amanda said on the way home.

Potlucks all the time would be a disaster on the waistline. There was no way Kate could eat like that every week and not be the size of a small elephant by the time summer was over.

“I’m taking tamales next week.” Jamie parked in front of the cabin.

“When it’s my turn, I’ll get fried chicken from the deli at the convenience store,” Kate offered.

“Then we get to stay every time?” Gracie asked. “I love it here, Mama. Let’s not ever go home.”

“Who’s that on the porch with your aunt Ellie?” Kate pointed toward the porch. She was looking forward to a nap or maybe an afternoon with a book down under her willow tree. Hopefully, after a couple of nice to see yous, she could slip away.

“Our friend Wanda. This is a nice surprise.” Amanda hurried out of the car, kicked off her shoes when she got to the porch, and sat down in a rocking chair beside them.

A surge of jealousy shot through Kate. Her mother would never just show up unannounced and wait on the porch for her. No more than Kate would do that. That’s what phones were for and why appointments were made.

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