Unlike the men most of the women wore formal attire, turning the ballroom of The Omni La Mansion del Rio, steps from the famed River Walk, into a fashion photographer’s paradise. There were more beads, sequins, and oh-so-low plunging necklines in attendance tonight than Jackson had seen since Paris Fashion Week. He appreciated the scenery, especially Kathleen. In a killer emerald green off-the-shoulder sheath, a slit which revealed most of her left leg each time she moved and tiny feet encased in four-inch stilettos, his new wife was turning heads, his included.
Kathleen and Josie, on the opposite side of the ballroom, seemed entranced in the conversation of a man in a wheelchair and a tall, athletic woman. She seemed familiar but Jackson couldn’t place her face.
“And how do you know our little Kathleen?” The voice over his shoulder startled Jackson out of his scenery enjoyment. A middle-aged man with the beginnings of a paunch stood to his side, watching him close and Kathleen even more closely.
They intentionally left their wedding rings at the penthouse before coming to the benefit, Kathleen rationalizing that with her family not in attendance it would be simpler. Jackson had the feeling she didn’t want to explain her quickie marriage and even quicker annulment to San Antonio society when he left in a few weeks. That was fine with him at the penthouse. Not so fine with Middle-Aged Paunch standing beside him as if he’d like to have Kathleen for dessert. Uncomfortable explanations or not, he wanted that wedding ring back on his finger.
He settled for the quickly-becoming-standard college sweethearts reunited story Kathleen kept telling everyone, leaving out the alcohol-tinged wedding ceremony. He held out his hand. “Jackson Taylor,” he said.
The older man shook his hand and grinned. “Kent Williams. You aren’t Jackson Taylor, the photographer, are you?”
Jackson was surprised. He had quite a reputation, and even a little bit of fame, in fashion circles but very little notoriety in the rest of the world. Kent kept talking. “My daughter sat for you…oh, I guess it was last year around Christmas. Said you made her freeze her, ah, bottom off on the coldest day ever recorded in Tahiti.” He chuckled. “Leastways that was her excuse for not coming home for the holidays.”
Jackson remembered the shoot and he remembered the model, Kyra. She’d complained throughout most of the day but when a male waiter went for a swim after the shoot she was right back in the water, trying to get his attention. He skipped the anecdote but told Kent his daughter was a joy to shoot, a little white lie he told hundreds of time each year. “I didn’t realize Kyra was from Texas,” he said to pass the time while Kathleen finished glad-handing with the big donors.
“I suspect she doesn’t want to admit being from Texas, as little as she comes home. She’s nothing like Mitch’s Kathleen. That girl lives for Texas and her horses, although I’m guessing you know that already.”
“Mmm,” Jackson replied, watching Kathleen make her way back across the room. Kent slapped Jackson on the shoulder, grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and sipped. Kathleen stepped up to them, smiling, placed her hand in Jackson’s, and greeted Kent.
She raised one eyebrow and said, “You’re going to beat last year’s donation, right?”
“Now, Kathleen, you know it’s been a tough year,” Kent said, dropping his empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray and holding up both hands. “I’m not quite — ”
Kathleen released Jackson’s hand to hook her elbow through Kent’s arm and turned a charming smile on him. “Don’t make me call Grandfather — or bring Josie over here to browbeat you.” His eyes glittered. She chuckled and Jackson watched both of them, wondering what he was missing. “And don’t think you can fake a psychotic episode to get out of anything. You can run naked and screaming around this room, telling the secrets of every man and woman in here. As long as you increase last year’s donation by twenty percent, and before you tell me you can’t, think about the big write-off you’ll be able to take. If that doesn’t work, think about the kids you’ll help with medical and dental care.”
“You fight dirty.”
“Learned from the best — you and Grandfather.” She poked him in the ribs, friends again now that he’d accepted her terms.
“If you talk to all the donors the way you talk to me, I can see why this is one of the biggest fundraisers in all of Texas each year.”
Grinning, she said, “Most are happy to show the rest of the world what fine citizens they are by donating a few dollars every year. I only blackmail the donors I really hate.”
Kent grinned back. “If I weren’t your family’s lawyer, I’d take offense to that.”
“If you weren’t my family’s lawyer you wouldn’t be invited and you wouldn’t be rubbing elbows with the West Texas aristocracy — and drumming up business by the end of the night.”
“Hey, the rich and famous need my lucrative advice.”
“They need your finely worded prenuptial agreements, you mean.” Kathleen turned back to Jackson. “I saw you two talking, but should I make official introductions?”
Jackson wasn’t sure how to react. This was the family lawyer? He shook his head. “Kent and I were just talking about his daughter, a model I shot with last year.”
“You were Kyra’s photographer?” Kathleen’s eyes widened in surprise. “I don’t think Kyra has looked quite so…innocent since she and Vanessa were in kindergarten together.”
Jackson shrugged, still off-balance at knowing Kent’s connection to the family. Had he said anything that might hurt Kathleen’s plans? He couldn’t remember anything except how the lights played in Kathleen’s hair, how she held all of her nervousness in the way her foot tapped against the floor. “What kind of law do you practice?” He asked Kent, hoping the lawyer hadn’t caught on to anything.
Kent talked about his all-purpose law firm. “The best kind to have in Texas,” he said once, before asking Kathleen if she could come to his office the next week to look over some paperwork about the rescue horses.
“Rescue horses?” Jackson asked.
Kathleen’s face glowed as she told Jackson about her pet project providing homes for sick horses and aging or disabled racers.
“We only have two at the ranch right now, but I realized a while back that if anything happened to me my rescue horses would probably go under. Kent has been working on a trust of sorts, to make sure they are cared for no matter what happens at the ranch.”
Josie returned to lead Kathleen to the podium at the front of the room, leaving Jackson to wait at their table. Two older women, sitting across the table, exchanged a look.
“We are Millicent and Virginia Teegarden,” said the white-blonde one, “of the Teegarden Oil Teegardens.” Jackson realized this was his cue to introduce himself and make polite conversation. He did a mental eye roll. These women were piranhas if he were an accurate guesser. “You’re here with our Kathleen?”
Yep, piranhas, out to get a little gossip about Kath. “Jackson Taylor, ladies, of the New York Taylors. It is a pleasure to share a table with two fine Texas ladies such as yourself.”
The sisters tee-heed for a moment and then the brunette took over, waving a linen hankie as she talked about Mitchum and the “regrettable circumstances” that led to Nathaniel becoming a drunk.
“We didn’t realize our Kathleen was dating again,” Millicent said, exchanging another pointed look with her sister. “We were hoping Kathleen and our Reginald would find time to share a date or two…” she trailed off.
“Their” Kathleen? Jackson was positive these women didn’t know the first thing about the real Kathleen. And who was Reginald? Their chauffeur? Jackson had had enough. He wanted to tell these two spinsters that Kathleen was, in fact, not dating but married. He bit back the short reply, knowing it would only lead to more gossip about her after he left. Anyway, where did he get off thinking about Kathleen as
his? She was no more his than she was theirs.
Still, not replying would be a different sort of admission and these two gossips would run to all of their cronies telling them that Kathleen was on the rebound again.
“Sorry, ladies, I can tell you for certain that as of this moment, Kathleen is off the dating market,” he said and left the table.
“Hello, brother.” Jackson stopped dead in his tracks near one of the French doors leading to a terrace. He turned slowly.
“Ty.” He knew he should say something more but couldn’t find words. He’d made it clear after Jackson’s college graduation there wasn’t room for both of them on the Henderson spread.
“I heard you were back, but I didn’t believe it until five seconds ago.” One of the few men dressed in a tux, Ty looked like the oil baron most people associated with Texas. The Henderson ranch wasn’t oil-rich, it was cattle rich. Maybe Ty had changed more than Jackson thought. “Are the other rumors true?”
“If you’re talking about Kathleen and Mexico, yes. We eloped.” The lie was becoming easier to spread the more Jackson said it. This time he didn’t cringe a bit.
“It won’t last, you know.” Venom filled Ty’s voice and anger burned blue eyes that were a near match to Jackson’s own. “Kathleen is more like her drunken father than old Mitchum.”
Jackson raised an eyebrow. “Actually Kathleen puts them both to shame, from what I’ve seen.” A waiter passed and Jackson grabbed flute of champagne from his tray. “Are you upset because she dumped you last Christmas or annoyed because she chose the illegitimate Henderson boy instead of the legitimate one?”
“If you’re here to try to get your portion of the ranch, it won’t work. Dad’s will was very clear.”
“Thanks to your mother.” Jackson drained his glass. “But even if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t bother. The H-Bar doesn’t interest me any more now than it did when we were kids.” He pushed through the door, allowing the cooler air outside to cool his temper. He waited several minutes before returning to the ballroom; Ty was nowhere to be found.
As Kathleen welcomed the guests and narrated a slideshow of surgeries, children helped, and clinics funded by the foundation, Jackson wondered if he’d gotten everything wrong about the Witte family.
Sure, they had money. But despite that Mitchum and Kathleen seemed to understand what the people around them needed. Mitchum created a job for his old riding buddy and this foundation for underprivileged children. Kathleen rescued horses in addition to her rehabilitation program.
Would either of them understand where he came from? Or were they like the tight-fisted donors Kathleen described to Kent, the kind who donated money just to show the world they could?
• • •
They managed to leave the benefit an hour later, with most of the guests still eating, drinking, and generally being merry. Getting dressed up was fun for the first hour or so. Three hours into the benefit and Kathleen was ready to go back to the ranch, grab her old jeans and work with the horses.
But Jackson seemed as at ease with the moneyed crowd as he seemed with everyone else he came into contact with.
Just another sign that you’re not meant to be together.
Jackson could never be happy living at the ranch. He might not mind the distance from the city after only a few days but the distance from fancy restaurants and crowds would wear on him after a while, no matter what he said about liking to travel to out of the way destinations.
Outside the hotel, Jackson told the limo driver to go ahead and then kneeled before her to take off first one and then the other stiletto. Kathleen had never been so glad to get out of a pair of shoes. The feel of Jackson’s fingers was heaven against the sensitive skin of her ankles and she barely held back a sigh.
Hooking the shoes over his index finger, Jackson led Kathleen to the walk beside the river. Fairy lights decorated most of the trees, lanterns providing more light along the bridges. She’d never taken the time to really look at the River Walk and wished she had.
Old-style Spanish architecture mingled with the more boxy, European style of building. High-end retail boutiques were mere steps away from sidewalk cafes and art galleries. The stores were closed at this time of night but she promised herself a day off soon to come back and shop. With Jackson.
“Why medical and dental care?” Jackson asked out of the blue, startling Kathleen out of her reverie. Would he be here in a few weeks to make the return trip? He was waiting for her answer. She needed to get it together.
“Because it’s needed. Most of the families in this country don’t have enough medical coverage and most have to skimp on dental and optical.” They crossed a bridge and continued down the opposite of the Riverwalk. “Grandfather’s two older brothers both died as children because the doctors couldn’t get to the ranch in time. It isn’t exactly the same thing, but when he had the money he set up the foundation so other children wouldn’t die because of a lack of medical coverage.”
Jackson said nothing and she wondered if he thought this was just the back-of-the-brochure description. It wasn’t. But to go on and on about the foundation would make it seem so. They walked in silence for a while.
Finally they arrived at the condo building.
“I hated dentists when I was a kid,” Jackson said. Dental care was a luxury, one he’d rarely experience before Children’s Services came into the picture.
“Didn’t we all? They had those horribly scary tools and they told us not to eat sweets or chew gum.” Kathleen shivered in mock horror, making Jackson chuckle. Whatever had been bothering him, it had apparently passed, but Kathleen still felt bereft that he’d once again kept something from her.
He put his arm around her shoulders and led her inside the building. He pressed the penthouse button and held her shoes up.
“I want to see you wearing these — and only these — in about five minutes.”
• • •
Several hours later, Kathleen found Jackson standing in the penthouse roof garden, staring at the San Antonio skyline. He looked content. Except for the fingers tap-tapping against the railing. What was he thinking about? If she asked would he finally share a small piece of his himself with her? It shamed her to admit, even to herself, that she was afraid to ask him more questions. Afraid he wouldn’t answer. Afraid of what that meant for their future.
There you go again, thinking about the future. She shook herself. It was better if he didn’t share, she told herself again. It would make it easier after he left if his memory now was like his memory from college — larger than life, but hollow. Knowing all his secrets would make all of this too real. Thinking about the future would only bring the heartache to her sooner.
For this moment out of time, and as many more as she could squirrel away, she would not think about the time after Jackson returned to New York. She would concentrate on the present, just as he seemed to do. No talk of the past or the future because they were too mismatched to understand each other’s past or to have a real future.
She tip-toed up to him, putting her arms around his middle. He took her hands, pulling her around so that she stood between him and the railing, looking out at the twinkling city lights. They stood like that for a moment until Jackson tipped his head, pressing his lips below her left ear At the first touch of Jackson’s lips, the craziness that had taken over her life disappeared. Turning, she pressed her lips to his, sinking into the kiss like a drowning woman who didn’t want to be rescued.
Jackson’s tongue sparred with hers and then there was only him and a hot, sultry night.
He tasted like strawberries and champagne, not surprising after the feast he’d had on her body just a few hours before. How long could this hot attraction last? Would he eventually grow tired of her body? She couldn’t foresee a future when she would ever tire of kissing, holding, and making love with
him. Kathleen stepped in closer, reaching around his neck to play with the hair at his nape, bringing his mouth into closer contact with her own.
Jackson raised his hands to cradle her neck, running his thumbs seductively along her jaw. He pulled back for a minute, but kept his thumbs moving. Kathleen forced her eyes to open. In the dim light his pupils were dilated, making his eyes look black.
“You’re a wicked, wicked woman,” he said huskily.
“You’re not so saintly yourself,” she said, grinning up at him. She felt like a teenager, kissing her first real crush, which she was ready to admit she was. Kissing had never felt this way, like her belly was filled with molten lava. If he didn’t start kissing her again, she had a feeling her world would explode.
Taking her hand, Jackson led Kathleen to a couple of lounge chairs on the other side of the poolside cabanas. They sat in silence for several moments, looking at the wide expanse of sky, the glow from the city streets below and the twinkling stars above.
Was he trying to seduce her or turn her into an astronomer?
Kathleen turned her head to look at Jackson, only to find him watching her carefully. A hot zing of pleasure raced up her spine. Seduction. Definitely seduction. A man didn’t look at a woman like she was the last pork chop on the buffet unless he wanted to eat her up. So why wasn’t he making a move?
Reaching across the chair, Kathleen walked her fingers along the back of his hand. “You look you’re trying to solve the hunger crisis. What’s on your mind?”
“Not the world hunger crisis, just my own.” His deep voice filled with emotion that Kathleen couldn’t decipher. “You make me want things I shouldn’t have.”
Biting the corner of her lip, Kathleen gulped down a shot of panic.
He wanted to talk. Exactly what she had wanted ten minutes ago but now…Did she want him to remind her again that this was only temporary? No. Not yet. Just one more moment out of time. She needed a few more mind-blowing kisses, just a little while longer without proper brain function. A few moments when she was just Kathleen.
Texas Wishes: The Complete Series Page 10