“Kathleen?”
She ignored Grandfather and focused on Jackson. “You seriously don’t remember how this” — she wagged her right index finger between their left hands — “happened?” His only response was a slow shaking of his head from side to side. Wonderful. Wait. Wouldn’t that make the annulment that much simpler? All the celebrities did it. Get drunk, get married, plead incompetence because of alcohol and get a quickie annulment. If it was good enough for Britney it was good enough for Kathleen. As long as she could get the annulment ball rolling before Grandfather found out.
“Kathy-bean?” Grandfather. Again. Kathleen hurried to the door and peeked out. He looked annoyed.
She tried to get angry, to stay angry, but she couldn’t. Grandfather always had a reason. No doubt the reason for this trip was to make sure she was okay. He seemed to understand her need for a little time away, even if he didn’t approve of the timing. Sure, he was checking up on her but his heart was in the right place. With her father’s history, heck her own history, he had every right to be worried.
Worried. She squinted her eyes and focused on Grandfather’s face. That wasn’t his annoyed look, it was his worried look. Was something wrong? Something he couldn’t tell her over the phone. Dad…
Throwing a quelling look over her shoulder Kathleen repeated, “Don’t say anything. Don’t move. Just stay here until I get back and we’ll figure out what to do about this.” Without waiting for an answer, she opened the cabana door and waved.
“I’m over here.” She pulled the door closed behind her and hurried to her grandfather’s side. “What are you doing here? What’s wrong?” She looped her arm through his and tried to guide him inside, but the older man didn’t budge.
He looked intently at the cabana door, making Kathleen’s heart beat irregularly in her chest. Nope, nothing wrong at home. He was worried about her, and about to figure everything out unless she could get him back inside the house. She tugged on his arm.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you ’til I got off the plane this evening in San Antonio. You didn’t fly all the way down here just to keep me company on the flight, did you?” She tried to make her voice sound light, like Vanessa or Monica would. Neither of her sisters would worry about a strange man in the cabana. They would probably throw a party to introduce him to the staff.
Finally, Grandfather let her pull him into the house. “I came down here to make sure everything’s okay,” he said, voice gruff as if he had just woken up.
She ignored the question in his tone, deciding that pretending everything was fine was the best alternative at the moment. “No one is here yet, why don’t I pop into the kitchen to make some coffee while you relax. Then I can finish packing and we can hit the road. What time did you say you got in?” Couldn’t have been too long ago since the car hood was warm to the touch. And what did he mean he came down here to make sure everything was okay? Of course it was okay, man in the cabana notwithstanding, it was a vacation. Crimeny!
Kathleen settled Mitchum on the sofa so he was facing into the room just in case Jackson came out of the cabana and then she hurried into the kitchen. She filled the brew-basket with grounds, dumped water in the tub, and tapped her foot impatiently as the carafe slowly filled with vanilla-flavored coffee. Grandfather’s favorite. When it was half full, she grabbed the carafe, stuck an old mug under the drip, and poured coffee into the service sitting on the counter. Tray loaded with a ceramic mug, serving carafe, and cream Kathleen headed back to the living room.
She nearly tripped over her own feet when she saw Grandfather staring out the window toward the pool, tapping his hat against the windowpane. She caught herself, pasted a happy smile on her face, and called, “Coffee’s ready.”
He turned from the window, taking in her appearance with a grim smile. Kathleen mentally reviewed how she must look. No shoes, wrinkled dress, mussed hair. Wedding ring. She curled her left hand into a fist, resting it fingers up in her lap. No need for him to take in her complete wardrobe. This problem was fixable. This didn’t have to ruin her life, and it wouldn’t as long as Mitchum didn’t see the ring. Oh, why hadn’t she taken it off in the kitchen when she had the chance?
“Seems like you’ve had a busy week,” Mitchum said, pouring cream into his coffee and sitting back in the sofa. He looked pointedly at Kathleen and she shook her head.
No coffee for me, thanks. A shot of whiskey, maybe. “You know me, Pepsi or nothing.” Idiot, idiot, idiot. Just shut up and let the man speak. “You were saying?”
Mitchum shook his head. “Not saying. Just asking. What have you been up to the last nine days, kiddo?”
Finding out that sex on the beach isn’t just a drink. “Shopping on the Malecon, lying on the beach. Typical vacation stuff.” The full impact of Grandfather’s words hit her. Nine days? She had only been in Puerto Vallarta seven days. Okay, technically eight but she left on day eight so it didn’t count. Nine? She barely stopped her eyes from cutting to the cabana. What happened to evening seven and day eight?
She took a breath, grabbed the remote control from the coffee table, and flicked on the television. She couldn’t understand the newscaster, but the date at the bottom of the screen was in both Spanish and English. Definitely nine days.
“When your flight came in without you yesterday we thought you just missed it. But you didn’t call. The number down here was disconnected and I couldn’t get through to the leasing agency.” His voice never raised, his eyes never left hers. Kathleen felt like she was back in high school being lectured for a bad grade. Only this was so much worse than a C in Algebra. He and her father must have been frantic. Another stress that neither man needed.
Grandfather took another sip of coffee and gently put the mug on the low table. His next words cut her to the bone. “I really thought you had outgrown this childish streak, Kathleen. That you were ready to take the reins. You can’t just leave horses to their own devices for days on end. You have to be there. Every day.”
There was a subtle subtext to his words. She couldn’t leave her family for days on end, either. Grandfather wasn’t getting any younger. Her father was at best depressed after the latest marriage debacle, at worst a raging alcoholic who wouldn’t get help. Her sisters were spoiled brats with no thought to anything except their next tanning appointment. She was the glue that was supposed to keep everything running. Ranch, home, family.
She was failing.
Stupid excuses ran through her mind. She had lost track of time, missed her flight, and lost her cell phone. Then there was the truth. At some point two days ago she had begun to drink, just like her father, and married a virtual stranger on the beach. That sounded worse than the excuses popping into her head. She opened her mouth to speak when a voice from the patio stopped her dead in her tracks.
“It was my fault, sir.” How long had Jackson been standing there? Better yet, why was Jackson standing there? He was supposed to be hiding in the cabana. Far, far away from Mitchum.
Jackson strode into the room as if he owned the place, stuck out his hand, and pumped Grandfather’s arm twice.
“Jackson?”
“Yes sir. I’m surprised you remember.” He sounded genuinely surprised, as if his absence from Lockhardt wasn’t a regular topic of conversation back home. “Kathleen and I ran into one another a few days ago, got to talking, and before we knew it she’d missed her plane.” Jackson continued around the sofa to stand behind Kathleen, placing his hand over her shoulder. Like a knight in shining armor. Just what did he think he was doing?
She tried to ignore the heat spreading from Jackson’s hand, down her arm, and tingling into her fingertips. They jerked in response to the light touch. Sitting up straight, Kathleen tried to dislodge his hand but it seemed permanently affixed to her shoulder. She didn’t need a knight in shining armor, darn it. And his appearing from out of nowhere was not par
t of the plan to get her out of this mess.
Before Jackson could say anything she jumped in to the conversation. “Well, we were kids when he left Lockhardt, but we knew each other a little in college. Jackson lived in the dorm across the quad from Steph and me. He was a few years ahead of us. In art. We didn’t have any classes together but knew one another from the cafeteria and dorm parties — ”
Jackson squeezed her shoulder and Kathleen stopped babbling. What did she just say? She couldn’t remember anything after the word college. Not a good sign.
“And you were romantically involved back then?”
“No,” Jackson practically barked the word.
Thanks a lot. He made it sound as if she were totally undesirable back then. Sure there hadn’t been much up top or in the trunk but at least she hadn’t been fat, thankyouverymuch, and she had caught him watching her a time or two. Of course he had likely caught her watching him a time or twenty.
He continued in a more modulated voice, “No, sir. I was a senior when Kathleen started at UTEP. We were just friends back then.” Okay, that was a marginally better reply.
“But when you met in Mexico you decided this was the perfect place to test that attraction?”
Kathleen looked up at Jackson. He seemed dumbfounded, his mouth opening and closing but no sound coming out. Enough of this. Leaving her family worried was one thing, undergoing the Spanish Sex Inquisition at twenty-eight was quite another.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but Jackson was down here on a photo shoot. We had lunch, we went dancing” — maybe — “Then he decided to take a few extra days to photograph the Malecon” — possibly — “for a show next month.” Kathleen stood, brushing off Jackson’s hand and pointing a finger at her grandfather.
“Nothing untoward happened” — other than losing thirty-some hours, marrying Jackson and missing her return flight — “and I am still perfectly capable of running the ranch. Now instead of grilling me like a sixteen year old, why don’t you get on the phone and book us a flight home? I’ll just go and pack.” She started from the room, but Grandfather’s next words stopped her in her tracks.
“At what point in your lunch having, photographer helping, dancing reunion did the two of you get hitched?”
Chapter Four
Jackson followed Kathleen to the second floor of the villa, feeling Mitchum’s eyes on them the entire time. The urge to cut and run fought with the urge to stay and make things all right for his new-old friend. He was an idiot for ever walking through the lanai doors. Should have eavesdropped and slipped quietly away before Mitchum even saw him.
Now he was stuck with the girl he’d done his best to avoid during his senior year in El Paso. He hadn’t seen her since graduation ten years before. So why did he suddenly care that she seemed about to go over the edge with the marriage news?
He had no idea but for some reason he did care. He wanted to make things okay for Kath. Which was stupid. Even at his weakest he’d been able to withstand the covert glances and open wanting in her eyes. Apparently ten years had whittled away his ability to withstand her.
Damn it all, anyway. He’d seen the unasked questions in the old man’s eyes — what was the bastard, thrown-away son of Texas royalty doing on his granddaughter’s vacation? And how did he keep said throw-away out of his perfect family tree?
At the landing, Kathleen turned left, expecting him to follow. That alone should make him want to turn away and leave her to deal with the mess on her own. He didn’t like quietly following anyone.
That was what made him the most in-demand photographer in all of New York. Modeling agencies, magazines. They all flocked to Taylor Studios when they needed more than a pretty face with a pretty background. Branching into fine-arts photography was just another stepping stone to the good life he was creating. A life filled with money, fine things, and, most importantly, no commitments.
But follow Kathleen he did because not doing so might mean a delay in the annulment. Annulment. The guy who was never going to get married, who would never make that lifelong commitment was going to get an annulment.
Classic.
She entered the third room on the left and Jackson followed. Kathleen closed the door, sank down on the chaise and buried her face in her hands, mumbling something about her life being over.
“Well that’s a nice way to make your new husband feel like a winner,” Jackson said before he could stop the words. What, now he was baiting her? He wanted out of this just as badly as she did so why was he turning the screws?
Her jaw clenched and her eyes squinted.
“You’re no more my husband than I am your wife,” she said, holding her hand up when Jackson would have spoken. “A drunken mistake in Mexico isn’t exactly the lifelong commitment I’ve always associated with marriage. The question is how are we going to fix this?”
“Find a justice of the peace, cry drunken mistake to anyone who will listen, and sign the papers.” And get me out of Mexico and into San Antonio.
By Jackson’s calculations he still had the better part of six weeks to track down Maria and get the answers he had been looking for since he was seven.
“We can’t.”
“Can. Celebs do it all the time. We just need to find a courthouse or something to make it happen. You do have courthouses out here, don’t you?”
Kathleen sighed, the sound heavy in the quiet room. “Okay, I can’t. I can’t have just signed my plans away by marrying a more-or-less complete stranger in Mexico. And I can’t throw the rest of my life away by letting Grandfather know what we did.”
“Why should he care?” From what Jackson had seen of the man downstairs, he wasn’t any more excited about this marriage than Jackson and Kathleen were. He’d probably be overjoyed to learn a more-or-less complete stranger wasn’t joining their fine, Texas gene pool.
Kathleen buried her head in her hands again. “He cares. So much it’ll kill him when I tell him what we just did. Oh, how am I going to make this right?” She was talking more to herself than him. Still, Jackson couldn’t ignore her.
Against his better judgment, he joined Kathleen on the chaise. He massaged her shoulders, trying to drain some of the tension from them. Heat traveled from her shoulders through his fingers and straight to his groin.
“If it’s a religion thing, the annulment should make things better. I mean, annulment basically means it never happened, right? So we can all just forget — ”
“It isn’t a religion thing. It’s a grandfather thing. He’s been pushing me to settle down for months now. This trip was a way to blow off a little bit of that ‘settled down’ steam that’s been building since about Christmas when I broke things off with Ty. Your brother, Ty.”
Kathleen sighed again, leaning back against him as his hands continued to work on her shoulders. Jackson fought to keep all the blood from rushing from his brain to just below his belt buckle. It wasn’t working. Not even knowing Kathleen had been in a relationship with Ty cooled the attraction, and it should have. Any woman who’d want his perfect brother couldn’t want him, too, and he definitely didn’t want anyone who bought into Ty’s false modesty and practiced charm.
Kathleen continued. “He freaked when my sister, Monica, was MIA during Lollapalooza a few years ago. My boozapalooza is going to send him straight into the cardiac ward. Having a three-day drunk fest in Mexico isn’t the kind of settled he wants. For me or for the ranch. And getting married and annulled within the same seventy-two hours is just going to be the cherry on top of his day. I might as well head down to the unemployment office as soon as the plane lands in San Antonio.”
“He’d kick you off the ranch?” What kind of bastard kicked his own granddaughter out of the house for a mistake? The same kind that allowed a spoiled wife to send his child away because he didn’t have the right parentage. Any sympathy
Jackson had for the man drained away in a heartbeat.
“No. But he’s had a lot of offers for the property. I’ve been the only one interested in running it but my, ah, past proclivities have given him some cause for worry.”
“Past proclivities?” Jackson echoed, feeling a little bit like Alice’s brother falling down the rabbit hole.
“I don’t have a good track record for sticking with things. I’ve never held down a job outside the ranch.”
“So? You’ve stuck with the ranch, haven’t you?” Jackson stopped rubbing her shoulders and turned her to face him. “What does it matter if you haven’t worked in an office or a store? You’ve worked at the ranch, right? That should count for something.”
She shook her head. “He’s from the old school. Women work in the garden or the kitchen, not in the fields. And certainly not with the horses. I was doing a good job of convincing him that I could do the same work as a man, though. Until my stunning slide into our boozefest a couple days ago.” She twisted the slim gold band on her left hand.
She sighed, the sound a deep wave of agony. “It’s a lot of things. Shades of my father, who hasn’t been sober more than twelve hours at a time since I was about fourteen, shades of all the women he’s married and brought out to the ranch. They all left within a year,” she said, standing and beginning to pace, talking to herself as if she didn’t remember he was even in the room. “Shades of my sisters. I was his hope for the ranch. I was supposed to get married and have babies and let his new grandson-in-law run things.”
Texas Wishes: The Complete Series Page 3