The Barefoot Summer

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by Carolyn Brown


  “Good Lord, how many are there?” Jamie asked.

  “There are a few—you need to read the letters for yourselves. Did you know the room I’m staying in is Darcy’s? Iris’s daughter grew up in this house. When she was a little girl, she used to hide things under the bottom drawer of the dresser. One morning that drawer got stuck.” Kate went on to tell the rest of the story, leaving out none of the details of the letters that were still fresh in her mind.

  “Oh. My. God!” Amanda threw her hand over her eyes when Kate finished the story. “I’m changing my name back to Hilton as soon as I can get it done.”

  “And I’ll be changing mine and Gracie’s to Mendoza when we go home. I wonder how much it will cost,” Jamie said.

  “A little over two hundred dollars,” Kate answered.

  “How do you know that?” Amanda checked the potatoes.

  Kate stirred the small pot of beans. “Because I looked into it one time, and I’ll gladly pay for all of us to get it done.”

  “You’d do that for me?” Amanda asked.

  “He cheated us all, and I have the money,” Kate answered.

  “I can pay for the name change,” Jamie said. “I’m not in the habit of taking charity.”

  “Me, neither, but I’m pretty much broke unless I want to get into my small savings account. I’ll take you up on the offer,” Amanda said.

  “I’ll get the legal staff on the name-change papers sent to us tomorrow morning. They’ll send down whatever we need to do, and when it’s time to go before the judge, we can make a day of it.”

  “Only two weeks ago he was alive, and now we are talking about changing our names. It’s surreal,” Amanda whispered.

  “Not as much to me as to you,” Kate said. “But I wish I’d hired someone to dig into his past like Iris did. I knew he was a con, yet it never dawned on me that he wasn’t even Conrad Steele.”

  “I had no idea, either,” Jamie said.

  Amanda laid her hand on her stomach. “It all hit me with so much force that I might be reeling for a month or maybe a year.”

  Kate was sorry that she’d lost her chance at motherhood, but she was glad she’d never have to worry about raising a child with Conrad’s—or Cain’s—blood. She couldn’t imagine Gracie being anything but a sweet child, but a boy? Amanda would have a heavy load raising a son if he was like Conrad.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Jamie awoke on Sunday morning and propped up on an elbow to stare at her daughter. How on earth she and Conrad had created such a delightful little girl was totally amazing. After reading through those letters, Jamie might even go so far as to say that her daughter was a miracle. With Conrad for a father, she could have been a conniving little girl, but she wasn’t. She was as open as a book and as sweet natured as Mama Rita.

  She glanced at the clock and rubbed her eyes, then looked at it again. She had exactly forty-five minutes to get up, eat breakfast, and get ready for church.

  She slung her legs out over the side of the bed and headed straight for the bathroom, knocking on Amanda’s door and Kate’s on the way.

  “Rise and shine, ladies. We have overslept,” she called out and purposely slammed the bathroom door shut.

  Amanda was standing at the bathroom door when she opened it again. “Pregnancy shrinks the bladder down to thimble size,” she grumbled.

  “We’ve got to hurry, and it’s my turn to make the covered dish for the potluck.” Jamie moved to one side to let Amanda inside the bathroom.

  “It can be my turn, Mama.” Gracie rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “We can take the cookies me and Amanda made.”

  “Coffee is making,” Kate said when Jamie and Gracie made it to the kitchen. “I’m not going to church, but I’m in as big a rush as y’all. Waylon and I are skipping services this morning.”

  Amanda arranged cookies on a plate. “Oh, really! Have you got a room reserved?”

  “No, we do not!” Kate poured three cups of coffee and set them on the table. “Did either of you do any interesting reading last night?”

  “I did,” Jamie answered. “That’s probably why I overslept. Talk about tangled webs and twists and turns. Now what? This place should go to a dead woman?”

  “But since she’s already passed on, then we’re back to square one, right?” Amanda asked.

  “Not necessarily,” Kate said. “She left a will, and whatever she wanted done with her possessions will probably be taken into consideration.”

  “Well, crap! This is turning into a never-ending cycle.”

  “Cereal, toast, and orange juice.” Jamie talked as she set things on the table. “Gracie, don’t diddle-daddle around now.”

  “I won’t, Mama. I don’t want to miss church. Do I still get to go home with Lisa after church is over?”

  “Oh, shoot!” Jamie sighed. “I forgot about that, but yes, you can go home with her. However, if you want to take your backpack with toys in it, you might have to let me bring them over later.”

  “I got it ready. And I got my play clothes in there and my old shoes.” Gracie poured cereal into a bowl, added a teaspoon of sugar and milk, and started to eat.

  “Miss Organization there.” Amanda buttered two pieces of toast when they popped up.

  Kate patted Gracie on the shoulder. “That’s a good thing.”

  “So are you going to sit with Waylon this morning, Kate?” the little girl asked.

  “No, remember what I said while ago. I’m going to skip out on church. Waylon and I have some business to take care of,” Kate said.

  “You can miss church one time, Kate, but if you miss two times it makes God cry, right, Mama?” Gracie said.

  “That’s what Mama Rita says.” Jamie nodded.

  It took some serious hustle, but Amanda, Gracie, and Jamie walked through the church doors with three minutes to spare. Folks were still meandering in from Sunday school and taking their seats. Hattie rushed over to Jamie and hugged her tightly.

  “I’m so glad to see y’all. I was afraid Gracie was sick. Where is Kate?” she asked.

  “We just overslept.” Jamie patted Hattie on the back. “Kate and Waylon are off to Wichita Falls this morning. I hope it’s something to help close the case. Why don’t you and Victor sit with us today?”

  “We’d love to, and there’s plenty of room for Paul and Lisa, too, on that empty pew right there.” She motioned to Victor.

  Amanda giggled and whispered, “They are playing matchmakers, but don’t say a word. And at least he is an intelligent man with a credible background.”

  Jamie won the fight with the blush. “Yes, he is. I’ve already figured Victor and Hattie out, and we’ve got a lot to get settled before any of us can take steps even into friendships, don’t we?”

  “You might preach that sermon to Kate.” Amanda giggled.

  Kate wore one of the sundresses she’d brought along to Bootleg, topped off with a cute little turquoise and silver necklace and her sandals. Using a curling iron, she managed to give her hair some extra volume. Makeup consisted of a brush of light-brown eye shadow, mascara, and a little lipstick. And then the time was gone.

  She picked up her purse and carried it to her favorite rocking chair on the front porch, but Waylon drove up in his big black crew-cab truck before she could sit down. She waved and started in that direction. He shook the legs of his starched and creased jeans down over the tops of his boots when he got out of the truck and rushed around to open the passenger door for her.

  “You look like a fresh breath of spring after a long winter,” he said.

  “Thank you. I hope that is a good thing,” she answered.

  He pulled the seat belt across her body and snapped it shut, and then brushed a soft kiss on her lips before shutting the door. She watched him in the side mirror until he disappeared. Good Lord, but he did fill out those jeans well. She would far rather be looking at him than singing hymns.

  “So how was your weekend in Dallas? Was what I gave you any help at
all? I let Amanda and Kate read the letters,” she said.

  “And?”

  “And they said they wanted to finish every one and then we’d talk about them tonight. Your turn, even though I know you can’t discuss the case,” she said.

  “The information was a tremendous help to my partner and his new partner, whom he’s bitchin’ about.” Waylon chuckled. “Anyway, between the three of us, we’ve got some solid suspects on the list and aren’t out there chasing our tails. It’s lookin’ good, so thank you.”

  “The letters?”

  “I’d like copies of them for the evidence files just so we have something tangible with all those names he’s used. We’ll run our own investigation, but if we had a copy of the old report, it would be good,” he answered.

  “I’ll get that done this week.”

  She had to clasp her hands in her lap to keep from clapping and doing a wiggle dance right there in the truck. To keep from acting like she felt, she turned on the radio and flipped through several stations with preaching before she found one that played only country music.

  She could tell by the way he had fidgeted that he was nervous that morning, not wanting to tell her something and yet needing to do so. The closer they got to Wichita Falls, the more he relaxed. Was she losing her famous ability to read people, or had the music calmed him down?

  If she’d been in her office trying to broker a deal to buy a smaller oil company that was failing, right then would have been the moment when she made her big move. The buyer would have arrived all tense, and with a little small talk, he would relax and then she would ease into the business aspect of the deal.

  Suddenly, she realized that she didn’t miss the business. It was her turn to tense. Maybe Hattie was right and she was ready for a big change. Her hands went clammy and her chest felt like it had stones in it.

  “You okay?” Waylon asked.

  “Yes, why do you ask?” She’d admitted that she liked working on the ranch. She’d owned up to the fact that she loved Gracie. Jamie and Amanda could pick up and move, but she shouldn’t entertain such a foolish notion.

  “You went all stiff and the air in the truck got heavy,” he answered. “So what were you picturing in your mind that made it hard for you to breathe?”

  “I was thinking about work, and it hit me that I didn’t miss it. I’m a workaholic like my mother. I love my job. I hate change. I should miss being there at the office, right?”

  “You are preaching to the choir. At least up to six months ago, when I sat down on a bar stool with a beer in front of me and my precinct friends around me and suddenly I didn’t want to be there. I wanted to be on the ranch full-time. I love my job, too, and I sure hate change, so I know where you are coming from.”

  “So what is your goal?” she asked.

  “To finish this case, get my paperwork all signed and sealed, freeze my retirement, and come home to the Double Back Ranch for good. The closer the time gets, the more I want that now that I’ve made up my mind,” he said.

  “What about your partner? Is he quitting the force, too?” she asked.

  “No, he’s still got ten more years before he gets to decide whether to stay or go. And besides, I know he secretly likes the woman who’s his new partner. She’s smart and has all the newest ways of doing things that get the job done,” he said. “And she’s a helluva lot better looking than his last partner.”

  “That would depend on who was doing the judging,” she said.

  “So you think I’m a little bit good-looking?” He smiled.

  “Waylon Kramer, that’s the low end of the scale. You measure way on up past that.” She flirted.

  “Well, now that chases away even more dark clouds.” He grinned.

  “Speaking of dark clouds, look over there.” She pointed toward the southwest. “Think that might be bringing in some rain?”

  “I hope so. The hay is all in, and the next crop could sure use some watering. Maybe we’ll get caught in it and have to spend the night up here in Wichita Falls,” he said.

  “And now we have Luke Bryan with one of his top tunes from last year, ‘Strip It Down,’” the radio DJ said.

  “Have you seen this video?” Kate asked.

  “Yes, I have. The city boy knows he’s lost it with the country girl, and the country boy can’t forget the city girl,” Waylon said. “Which one am I? And which one are you?”

  “At heart, you are a country boy, but you’ve been in the city too long. At heart, I’m a city girl, but I’m learning to love the country life. Where does that take us?”

  “To a happy medium, I hope,” he answered. “What do you get from the video?”

  She ran what she could remember from the video through her mind. “I see a young farmer who needs to take his woman to a nice place and let her get all dressed up. And then I see a corporate bigwig who used to be a cowboy and fell for a woman in cowboy boots. Now they’re both miserable and wanting another shot at love. Which one are you?” Kate asked.

  “Both. I’ve worn the suit and the cowboy boots. Which one would impress you the most?” he asked.

  “Neither,” she answered.

  “Oh, come on,” he said, grinning. “Surely you know if you like a cowboy or a detective better.”

  “Right now I’d like for all this crap to be cleared up, and I don’t care if a cowboy, a detective, or a big old tomcat does the job,” she said.

  The grin faded. “A tomcat?”

  “Like in those cozy mystery books,” she said.

  “The cat really solves the case?”

  “Sometimes. Maybe you’d better get a cat.”

  He shook his head. “Okay then. With all the information you gave us, we do have some good leads, but you were in that cabin with Conrad after Iris died, and so were Amanda and Jamie. A good prosecutor would argue that one or all of you found those letters months ago and, individually or collectively, you all murdered him. Y’all are still at the top of the suspect list.” He grimaced. “Maybe even more than before. That’s what I wanted to tell you and didn’t want to tell you at the same time.”

  “Well, shit!” she said. So that’s the reason he’d been so antsy that morning when he picked her up. Nothing was decided and everything was even worse than before. In all the scenarios she’d thought about, that one never entered her mind.

  “Exactly.” He frowned. “I can turn this truck around and take you home if you want.”

  “Hell, no. I want that big hamburger you promised me,” she said.

  “Okay, then, but I’ll understand if you turn me down on the next news.”

  “You mean that’s not all of the bad news?”

  “This has nothing to do with the case, but knowing that the bunch of you aren’t in the clear by any means might mean that none of you want to cooperate. You’ve heard about the festival?”

  She nodded. What in the hell could a fishing festival have to do with the case or anything else for that matter?

  “Well, several years ago my mother bought an old stagecoach at an auction and the parade committee, plus the Bootleg citizen of the year, rides in it during the parade. I get it out of the barn where we store it and shine it all up for that day,” he said.

  “And you’re going to chase down Conrad’s real killer in an antique stagecoach?” she asked.

  He laughed. Dammit! Why did he have to be so sexy when he brought out the charm?

  “No, but while all the spiders are chased out of it and it’s still clean, Victor and Hattie want to have a picnic at the ranch so the girls can have a ride in it,” he said.

  “As in more than just Gracie? As in Lisa?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “When is all this supposed to happen?” she asked.

  “Festival is next Saturday. The stagecoach would still be clean on Monday evening,” he answered. “Hattie says that she’ll bring a picnic lunch for us to have beside the creek on the back side of the ranch and the kids can play in the water.”


  “Why are you asking instead of Hattie?”

  “She and Victor thought if it was my idea, it might not look so much like they were pushing Paul and Jamie together,” he answered. “So if you aren’t too mad at me for being the messenger of bad news about the case, then I’d ask you not to tell Jamie who really thought up the whole plan.”

  “Well, I expect I can keep that secret.” She smiled. “Truth is, I’ve wanted to ask you if I could bring Gracie to the ranch for an afternoon or morning.”

  “Anytime.” He grinned.

  Waylon had let emotions get in the way of his job for the first time in his career. He liked Amanda and Jamie, and he’d hate to see them prosecuted. But Kate was a different story. He believed her, and he damn sure did not want to see her behind bars. He shouldn’t even be taking her out for a hamburger or hiring her to work on his ranch, but dammit, there was something there between them that he couldn’t ignore.

  He’d sworn off women after his second divorce and he’d stayed pretty faithful to his vow of bachelorhood until he met Kate. God or fate or karma damn sure had a wicked sense of humor.

  “Gracie told me she wanted to come to your ranch and ride a horse someday so I know she’ll be delighted, but I feel like I should ask Jamie first,” Kate said. “Now, let’s put all that on the back burner and you can tell me about this burger joint. Is it a chain? Do we have them in Dallas and Fort Worth?”

  “It’s not a chain. It’s one of a kind and it’s called Bobby Jo’s. They only make burgers and hot dogs. None of this diversifying business. And they peel their own potatoes for their fries and make their own chili for the burgers and hot dogs.”

  “Chili for burgers?” She frowned.

  “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” he said. “A chili burger is two pieces of meat, two pieces of cheese, and a scoop of hot chili that melts the cheese. You usually have to eat it with a spoon, but it’s pretty damned good.”

  “Sounds like it. Do they do chili cheese fries?”

 

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