Gabe took the will, his brows furrowing. He couldn’t believe Gran would try to force his hand. He’d been engaged once, but Gran hadn’t seemed too pleased with his choice. So why would she try to rush him into something?
He quickly read the papers, noting the requirement that he return to Cactus for one year. Outrageous, but not impossible. It would take him that long to sell her house. In the meantime, he would live there.
But it was the last requirement that had him leaping to his feet. “Marry Katherine? Was she crazy? Katie married over eight years ago. This is insane. When did she write this?”
“About six months ago. Katie is a widow now.”
Gabe swallowed. “I can’t believe she’d agree to this blackmail.”
“I don’t know whether she agreed or not. And there is a provision, saving you from that requirement if Katie marries someone else.”
“Where is she? I’m going to share a few facts of life with Miss Katherine Peters!” he exclaimed, turning to charge out of the room.
“Katherine Hill. And you’ll find her at The Lemon Drop Shop,” Mac obligingly told Gabe, a speculative look in his eyes.
“The what?” Gabe said, coming to an abrupt halt.
“It’s a bakery on the other side of the square. That’s how she supports herself these days.”
Gabe had avoided seeing Katie when he’d come back to visit his grandmother. His trips had always been brief and far apart. He hadn’t even visited the guys very often. He was always too busy.
Gran had come to stay with him at Christmas every year, preferring his bachelor apartment to his parents’ pretentious house in one of those neighborhoods in Dallas where the houses were huge and the lots small.
“She must not have been of sound mind when she made the changes,” Gabe protested.
“I’m afraid you won’t be able to prove that,” Mac assured him.
“Then Katie must have put her up to it. She probably needs the money and thought I’d be easy plucking.” He paced back to Mac’s desk. “Is she still supporting half her family?”
Mac nodded. “Most of the kids are grown. Two are still in high school. And then there’s her mother.”
“That’s what it is. She planned to cash in. Well, she turned me down once. She won’t get that chance again.” This time, when he turned to storm out of Mac’s office, his friend didn’t say anything to stop him.
Gabe stepped onto the sidewalk and saw the bright sign across the square. The Lemon Drop Shop. Every letter was lemon yellow on a white background. There were small tables and chairs in front of the store, with lemon-yellow umbrellas to provide shade. It looked clean, fresh, delectable.
He charged across the street, jogging through the square, past the band shell and onto the opposite sidewalk. His mind was whirling with the news he’d received.
But even more upsetting was the intense anticipation that filled him. Katie Peters. No, Katie Hill, a widow. She’d probably be fat and dumpy, desperate for his grandmother’s wealth. He prayed she was. He didn’t want to see her.
Which didn’t explain why he was running.
Anger, that was it. He was angry that she’d swayed his sweet grandmother to act so irrationally.
A bell jangled as he swung open the door to The Lemon Drop Shop, and he wanted to strangle it. But almost no one paid him any attention.
Until he roared her name. “Katie Hill? Where are you?”
KATHERINE HILL WAS DECORATING a large tray of cookies. She enjoyed making the first few as she transformed the pale dough into bright butterflies. But as her back began to ache from bending over the counter, and she repeated the same designs again and again, she wished she were done.
Especially when someone yelled her name.
Startled, her hand jerked and the blue icing missed its mark. Instead, it shot across the wax paper onto the cookie beside it.
“Damn!” Katherine muttered softly. She took a knife to scrape off the wayward icing. Then she wiped her hands on the big apron she wore and pushed open the door that led into the front room. The friendly smile on her face disappeared, however, when she faced the man standing in the middle of the shop, his hands cocked on his hips.
Gabriel Dawson.
Katherine immediately shut away the memories that wanted to come cascading down through her mind. Another time, another life.
She purposefully swept emotion from her face. “May I help you?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know me, Katie!” he ordered, his voice a threatening growl.
“Oh, sorry, Gabe. The sun made it hard for me to see you. What are you doing in Cactus?”
“You know what I’m doing here!”
The customers in the shop, those sitting at the small tables and others in line to be waited on, were staring at them. Even the two women who worked for Katherine were frozen.
She didn’t know what he was talking about, but she knew she didn’t want to discuss it with an audience. “Why don’t you find a table outside? I’ll bring us some drinks and a snack.”
“It won’t do you any good to try to sweeten me up. It’s not going to work!”
Had the man gone stark raving mad? She hadn’t seen him since she’d turned down his marriage proposal ten years ago. Well, that wasn’t quite true. She’d occasionally seen him from a distance and hastily run in the opposite direction.
But he hadn’t come to visit Mrs. Dawson all that often. For which she’d been grateful.
“I’ll be right out,” she muttered, avoiding everyone’s stare. “Mary, Evelyn, I believe some of our customers are waiting.”
The two ladies snapped out of their stupor and began waiting on the customers again, and Katherine returned to the workroom. She didn’t look to see whether Gabe had followed her suggestion. If he decided to storm out as abruptly as he’d stormed in, she wouldn’t object.
She didn’t need any grief from him.
Putting several of the butterfly cookies on a plate, she loaded the plate on a tray and added two glasses of lemonade, along with napkins and straws.
After taking a deep breath, she pushed her way through the swinging door. She paused when she realized Gabe wasn’t still standing in the middle of her shop.
“He’s outside,” Evelyn whispered.
Katherine gave her employee a calm smile and walked to the glass door. One of her male customers immediately sprang to his feet to hold the door open for her. With a quiet thank-you, she stepped outside.
It was spring in Cactus, when a cool breeze kept the air pleasant and everything was still green. In summer it got hot and the grass turned a dingy brown-green.
But Gabriel Dawson didn’t look like he was enjoying the season. He glowered at her, standing as she approached the table.
With fourteen years experience as a waitress behind her, Katherine set the two glasses and the plate on the table, then added the napkins and straws. She handed the tray to her brother, Paul, who worked for her in the afternoon.
“Thanks, Paul.”
Her words gave her companion pause.
“Paul? Is that you?” Gabe demanded.
When he’d left, Paul had been a seven-year-old who idolized him, following him around whenever he saw him.
“Yeah, Gabe,” Paul said with