“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, would I mess up your kitchen?” He looked past Kate and winked at Dory. “You must be one of my sister’s college friends she’s been all fired up to see.”
Dory didn’t miss the way he’d sized her up. Obviously he didn’t remember her. They’d met briefly back East at the graduation ceremony. Though Dory wasn’t the type of woman men usually did remember, a fact that didn’t bother her any. He, on the other hand, wasn’t a man many women forgot, no matter how short the meeting, and she suspected he knew it.
She moved toward him, her hand out. “Dory Richards,” she said, pumping his hand with too much enthusiasm, a bad habit that her boss had twice suggested she work on.
Surprise flickered in his green eyes, and then his mouth curved in a devilish smile. “I like a woman with a firm grip,” he said, and then exaggeratedly flexed his hand.
Kate swatted him with the apron she’d removed from around her waist. “You guys met at graduation, remember?”
“Did we?” Dory smiled innocently.
“Yeah, that’s right.” Clint nodded, clearly lying. “Nice to see you again.” He looked back at Kate as he opened the stainless steel refrigerator door. “What’s for lunch? I’m starving.”
“Lunch?” Kate glared at him. “Does it look as if we have time to make lunch?”
He frowned at her. “Hey, I’m not asking anyone to wait on me. I just figured this might be my last chance before the boys from the Double R get here with—”
“Oh, my God.” Kate covered her mouth with her hand and briefly closed her eyes.
“What?”
Kate squinted bleakly at her brother. “You’re going to kill me.”
“You did remember to order the lumber, right?” He rubbed his right temple, looking as if he already knew he wouldn’t like her answer.
She glanced at the round wall clock over the stove. “You still have time to pick it up. Take the trailer.”
Clint groaned. “That’s over a two-hour round trip, and that’s not counting loading.”
“I’m sorry. Dory will go with you.” Kate met her eyes, and Dory nodded. “She can help.”
“That’s a lot of lumber. I’m not taking a girl—” Clint pressed his lips together, his gaze fixed on his sister.
Dory grinned. “Yes?”
He slid her a guilty glance, and then grabbed an apple from a fruit bowl on the counter. “I’ll rustle up one of the boys from the back pasture to go with me.”
Kate sighed. “They’re all busy and we really don’t have time.”
Dory plucked a ripened pear from the bowl.