“That means more to me than anything that money could ever buy.” Kate’s voice cracked.
“Don’t you dare cry, because with my hormones on a roller coaster, I’ll start bawlin’ like a baby if you do,” Amanda said. “Let’s take all those bags inside. We can go through them tomorrow, but right now I want to prop up my feet and watch television until I fall asleep.”
“You get your feet up. I’ll bring in the bags.” Kate went around to the back of the car and opened the trunk, handily hiding her face in case tears decided to escape. She was taking out packages when her phone rang. Her mother’s picture came up on the screen. She backed up against the vehicle, kicked off her high heels, and wiggled her feet in the grass as she answered. Teresa would have a hissy fit if she could see her daughter at that moment, but the damp grass felt so good that Kate didn’t care.
“Mary Beth tells me everything is done. She sent a check to the church for a year’s rent and has talked to the funeral home. They sent a courier over to the bank with a copy of the death certificate for Jamie,” Teresa said. “How does it feel to be Kate Truman again? Did it help to close the books on the past?”
“No, but spending the day with Jamie and Amanda did. We’re about to get this whole thing talked through and settled.” Mercy, but she did love the soft green grass under her bare feet.
“Talk faster. I’m ready for you to come home,” Teresa said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you in court today. I had some meetings that couldn’t be postponed and I couldn’t miss.”
“I understand.” Kate meant what she said. Her mother would never change, so she’d have to learn to love her just the way she was. “We were in and out of the courthouse in less than half an hour. No more than fifteen minutes before the judge. It took longer to drive there than to actually get the decree signed.” The phone beeped under her ear. “Got another phone call, Mother. Can I call you back?”
“Not necessary. I’m walking out the door to go to dinner with the potential buyer. I’ll call you tomorrow,” Teresa said.
Kate touched the screen and said, “Hey, Waylon.”
“Hello, Miss Truman. How did things go today?”
“They went great. I figured out that I don’t like high heels anymore and that I do like the feel of damp grass under my feet,” she answered.
“That’s a step in the right direction. You ready to drive a tractor tomorrow? The weatherman says it’s going to be another scorcher,” Waylon said.
“I’ll be there.” She smiled.
“I miss you on the days when I don’t get to see you.” He dropped his voice to a deep drawl that sent little waves of heat through her body.
She eyed the expensive shoes lying in the grass. “I’d almost put those high heels back on for a kiss right now.”
“You don’t have to do that, darlin’. There will be plenty of kisses waiting on you tomorrow when you get to the ranch.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” She flirted, and it felt good, even if it was just because she’d had an emotional day, out of character for her.
“Good night, gorgeous lady,” he said, and the phone went dark.
She hummed all the way into the house, where she dropped the first batch of packages in the living room and went back for more. When she’d brought the last of them inside, she found Jamie and Amanda sitting on the sofa. Jamie had poured two glasses of wine and one of water with a wedge of lemon.
“I’d brought movies with me to watch when I left a month ago. None of them are new, but they are some of my favorites. Have you seen Something to Talk About? It kind of seems fitting for tonight,” Jamie said.
“I heard about it, but isn’t that really old?”
“It is, but I think you’ll like it,” Amanda said.
“Then hand me that glass of wine and let’s get started.” Kate figured good wine and company would outweigh even a crappy movie. But it wasn’t, and by the end she agreed it was the perfect movie for the evening.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
At the end of the next afternoon, Kate was so hot, tired, and sweaty that she simply kissed Waylon on the cheek, told him she’d see him the next morning, and headed for the cabin. Big raindrops hit when she parked, and by the time she made it into the house, it was pouring so hard that she was drenched. Maybe that would break the heat.
“Well, you look like a drowned rat.” Amanda laughed.
A loud crack of thunder rattled the windows, and the rain came down in sheets, blowing hard against the house. “I swear, that one parted my hair,” Jamie said nervously. “August is showing July that it is a thing of the past.”
“I’m going to take a shower. Did y’all save any leftovers?” Kate kicked off her shoes and headed down the hallway.
“I made chicken Alfredo, and there’s still some in the skillet on the stove,” Jamie said. “Amanda cleaned today and made two loaves of bread and a chocolate pie.”
“You think we can keep her in this nesting phase for a little longer?”
“It would be nice, but when the baby comes and it’s up all night, nesting ends,” Jamie answered.
Kate shut the bathroom door and adjusted the water. The warmth beating down on her back felt wonderful right up until the electricity blinked once and then went off completely. Whatever water was in the small tank wouldn’t last through their showers if she didn’t rush, so she hurriedly rinsed the shampoo from her hair. She fumbled around for towels, wrapping one around her body and another around her head in the dark. When she opened the door, she went toward the flicker of light in the living room. Jamie must have found the candles.
“Got any more of those?” she asked.
“No, but there’s a flashlight in the kitchen drawer that you can use to get dressed,” Amanda told her. “What a time to get those stupid false labor pains again. I’m going to go lie down on my left side like they told me to do. It’s early yet, but after a day of cleaning, I feel like I can sleep until morning.”
“Good night, then,” Kate said.
“I’ll take that flashlight when you are done with it,” Jamie said. “Gracie and I are going to turn in, too, and I’m going to use the light to read books to her.”
“Take it now. The candle will throw off enough light for me to find my nightshirt,” Kate told her.
With the wind sounding like a freight train coming down the rolling hills and the rain pounding on the roof and against the windows, she couldn’t read, not even on her Kindle. Finally, she decided to call her mother, but there was no service. Next week she would check into buying a generator, because she was taking the sabbatical even if it pissed her mother off to the point that she fired her.