It quickly became apparent that her father wasn’t going to take Jack’s hand. Her mother reached out and took it instead, saying, “I’m glad to meet you, Jack.”
Her father said, “I’d rather not be meeting you, McKinley. Especially under these circumstances.”
Despite the telltale flush high on Jack’s cheekbones that revealed he was aware of the cut he’d been given by her father, Jack took her mother’s hand in both of his and leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. “I can see where Kate gets her good looks.”
The comment surprised Kate, because she and her mother were total opposites. Kate was tall like her father, with his black hair and gray eyes. Her mother was petite, with blue eyes and short blond curls.
“Kate has your nose and chin,” Jack said. “And your smile.”
Kate realized her mother was smiling, which was nothing short of amazing, considering the situation. Her father was not. He was scowling at all the attention Jack was paying her mother. Which was when she realized that Jack was only a couple of years younger than her mother. And her father was jealous.
That had to be a good sign, wasn’t it?
Kate might have been jealous herself, except it was ludicrous to imagine someone like Jack McKinley taking a second look at someone like her, in the ordinary course of things. Which made her wonder, suddenly, what he owed North that justified him doing this favor for her.
It occurred to Kate that she should have questioned Jack’s motives sooner. She’d simply been too glad to have a willing accomplice to wonder whether Jack had some hidden agenda. As she watched him with her mother, she wondered whether her uncle North might have asked Jack to make her father jealous.
Except that wasn’t possible. Her initial meeting with Jack had been an accident, hadn’t it? If not, what was Jack hoping to get out of all of this? Kate looked at him with eyes suddenly willing to see what she’d shut out in her anxiety to get her parents together. Jack McKinley was charming her mother. And infuriating her father. And all he’d done so far was say hello.
She crossed past Jack and hugged her father, wanting to comfort him, then took the two steps to bring her mother close. “I’m so glad you’re both here.” She stepped back to look at her parents and felt Jack’s hands settle at her waist. He stepped close enough for her to feel the length of his body along her back. She could almost see her father’s neck hairs hackle.
“I hope the two of you can stay for the weekend,” Kate said.
She saw her parents exchange a surprised look, before her father said, “I didn’t plan on it.”
“Neither did I,” her mother said. “But I don’t see why I couldn’t, if you’ve got an extra toothbrush.”
“I’m your mother’s ride, so I suppose I have to hang around as long as she does,” her father said, eyeing Jack suspiciously. “Where did you plan to put us?”
“There are three bedrooms,” Kate said. “Mom and Dad, you can each have one of the guest rooms. Jack and I are sharing the master.”
Kate felt Jack’s hands tighten at her waist and could almost feel his body stiffen in disapproval. She didn’t know what he was so upset about. Like everything else they’d done today, it would only be pretend.
She hadn’t previously discussed the sleeping arrangements with Jack, because she hadn’t planned to ask her parents to stay. She’d made the decision on impulse. But there were only three bedrooms, and if she and Jack weren’t sharing a bedroom it would end the illusion that they were lovers.
“I don’t approve of this relationship,” her father said. “Or these sleeping arrangements.”
“I’m a grown woman, Daddy,” Kate said.
“What’s the deal here, McKinley?” her father said, ignoring her and confronting Jack. “What is it you want? Money to get out of her life? You’ve got it. Name your price.”
“Daddy!” Kate said, shocked to the core by her father’s attack. “Jack doesn’t want anything from you.”
“You’re wrong, Kate,” Jack said, his arm tightening around her.
Alarmed, Kate tried to turn around to look into Jack’s eyes, but he had too strong a grasp on her. She could feel his body quivering with anger and heard the menace in his voice when he said to her father, “There is something I want, Blackthorne. For you to butt out of my business!”
“I know about you, McKinley,” her father retorted. “My daughter deserves better.”
“She’s made her choice,” Jack said.
“Daddy, please,” Kate said. “Don’t judge Jack before you get to know him.”
“I know his kind,” her father said. “No-good riffraff. A rolling stone that won’t stop for anything or anyone. An opportunistic—”
“Daddy, don’t—” Kate cried.
“That’s enough, Clay,” her mother said. She turned to Kate and said, “Maybe we shouldn’t stay.”
Kate looked from her mother to her father and back again, seeing all hope of a reconciliation between them turning to dust. “Please, Mom. Please, Daddy. Once you get to know Jack like I do, you’ll understand why I…I love him.”
Kate felt Jack’s hands tighten painfully at her waist and knew he hadn’t liked that bold admission either. Well, she could explain everything once they were alone. She focused her eyes on her mother and said, “I want you to stay.”
“Of course I’ll stay, if you want me here,” her mother said. She turned to Kate’s father and said, “Clay?”
“I’m not going to pass up the chance to spend some time with you, Kitten.”
“Then it’s settled,” Kate said with a glowing smile. “We waited supper for you. I made a pot roast. Are you hungry?”
“Starved,” her mother said.
Her father said nothing, and Kate had to tug free of Jack’s hold to direct her parents to their seats. “Daddy, you can sit at that end of the table, and Mom you can sit across from me. Jack’s at the other end of the table.”
“Is there anything I can help with?” her mother asked.
“It’s all ready to go,” Kate said. “You and Dad just sit. Jack, will you pour the iced tea, while I serve the plates?”
They moved together like silent dancers in a ballet. Pouring. Serving. Sitting.
Once they were all seated with food in front of them, Kate said to her father, “How long are you postponing your wedding?”
Her father choked, and he grabbed for his glass of tea.
“Are you okay?” Kate asked.
Her father swallowed a gulp of tea and said, “Jocelyn and I haven’t decided on another date. Why do you ask?”
“I just wondered if the trial is going to interfere with your wedding preparations now.”
“I think the trial will probably be over before we head to the altar.”
Kate felt a sudden lurch of hope. The trial might take months. Her parents were committed to spending the weekend together, and by some miracle, Jocelyn Montrose was no longer standing between them. All Kate had to do was make sure her mom and dad were thrown together in romantic circumstances. Love would do the rest.
She knew she ought to offer sympathy for her father’s loss, but she could barely resist shouting “Hallelujah!”
“You’re going to find out,” her father said, “so I might as well be the one to tell you. Jocelyn is staying with North.”
Kate felt her stomach do a joyful somersault. Oh, her wonderful devious uncle! But her voice was neutral when she asked, “How did that happen?”
“I think it’s my fault,” her mother said in a low voice. “I introduced them last year in Wyoming, and it seems there was some attraction that neither of them acknowledged at the time.”
“She’s living with him here. At the ranch,” her father said.
“Here?” Kate said. “I can’t believe it. I just visited Uncle North two weeks ago and—”
“She moved in two weeks ago,” her father said.
Right after her visit with Uncle North, Kate realized. He had been listening. He had cared. And
he’d somehow manipulated the situation so Jocelyn had called off the wedding. Kate wanted to find her uncle and give him a big hug. But there was work to do here. Uncle North had set the stage. It was her job to make sure the actors played their parts.
She rose and carried her empty plate and her mother’s to the sink. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” she said. “But you wouldn’t have had time for a honeymoon right now anyway with this big trial.”
Her mother started to rise, but Kate said, “Don’t get up, Mom. Jack and I can handle the dishes. Coffee, Daddy? Tea, Mom?”
“Yes,” they both said almost in unison. They smiled at each other, and Kate felt her heart give a sudden lurch. Oh, this could work. It could. She set about making tea for her mother and coffee for her father.
“Coffee, Jack?” she asked.
“None for me after dinner,” Jack said as he rose with his plate and collected her father’s plate to bring them to the sink.
Kate saw her father’s gaze shooting from her to Jack and back again. She searched for what she’d said that was wrong and realized her mistake. Surely, if she and Jack had known each other for so long, she would know Jack didn’t drink coffee after dinner. It was a very small faux pas, but her father was a very smart man.
Kate needed a distraction. When Jack reached the sink with his handful of dishes, she met his gaze and flushed at the temerity of what she was about to do. “Thank you, sweetheart,” she said. Then she reached up on tiptoe and kissed his mouth, whispering, “Daddy’s suspicious. Do something!”
Jack said, “You’re welcome, dear.” He took the coffee and teacups she handed him to the table to serve her mother and father, then returned to Kate’s side at the sink, leaning back against the counter next to her as she stacked dishes in the dishwasher, and asked her father, “How’s the trial going?”
Kate saw her father eye Jack speculatively before he said, “I’d rather talk about something else.”
“‘Bomber Brown’s trial is the biggest news around,” Jack said.
Her father’s eyes narrowed slightly before he said, “I saw in the paper that you’re in a little trouble yourself.”
Jack flushed but said nothing.
“I don’t understand,” Kate’s mother said. “What kind of trouble are you in, Jack?”
“A little disagreement in numbers between me and the IRS, Ms. Grayhawk,” Jack said.
From the corner of her eye, Kate watched her mother melt under Jack’s charming smile. “Please call me Libby,” her mother said. “It must be very perturbing after all these years to have your life still bruited about in the newspaper.”
“It is,” Jack said.
“Where did you grow up, Jack?” Kate’s mother asked.
“I was born and raised in San Antonio, ma’am.”
“Libby,” her mother corrected. “Do you have brothers and sisters?”
Kate listened attentively for Jack’s answer, since this was all news to her.
“My older sister died when I was in high school. I have two younger sisters living in San Antonio, not far from my parents.”
“What have you been doing with yourself since you were drummed out of football?” her father asked.
Again, the telltale flush, but no other evidence that Jack found her father’s question offensive. Kate felt offended on his behalf and said, “Jack’s got a really great restaurant in downtown Austin, Daddy, the Longhorn Grille.”
She saw the surprise on her father’s face before he said, “My father’s been trying to get me to meet him at the Grille for dinner. He says you make an exceptional steak Oscar.”
“I’ve got a good—by good I mean expensive—chef,” Jack said. “I made up my mind that if I was going to open a restaurant, it was going to be the best one in Austin. I’m not quite there yet. But I will be.”
Kate leaned over to kiss Jack’s cheek, where it was still flushed, then turned to her father and said, “Jack’s going to be the best husband, too.”
“That remains to be seen,” her father retorted.
“I’m looking forward to watching the trial, Daddy,” Kate said as she closed the dishwasher and turned to slide her arm around Jack’s waist. She was a little surprised, but grateful, when he did the same to her.
“I’ve told you I don’t want you there,” her father replied.
Kate frowned. “I hardly ever get to see you. I thought we’d be able to have lunch together once in a while during your noon recesses.”
Kate watched her father eye Jack’s hand, which had slid up from her waist to a sensitive spot just below her breast, before he said to her, “The plane crash that killed the judge who previously presided over this case was probably the result of sabotage.”
Kate saw her mother’s hand was trembling and watched with wonder and elation as her father reached out to take her hand and comfort her.
“I know you don’t want me in the courtroom,” she said. “But that would mean I’d have to wait until this trial is over to see you. And I’m not willing to do that.”
She watched as her father exchanged an exasperated glance with her mother. “It’s not safe.”
“I’ll be careful, Daddy. I promise. Besides, I’m writing a paper on the effects of violence on governmental limitations on personal freedom and I need to see as much of the trial as I can to do a really good job. And you’re forgetting, I’ll have Jack to look out for me.”
“Somehow that makes me feel more alarmed than reassured,” her father said.
“Daddy!” Kate said, shocked at his rudeness. “Jack is a very responsible person.”
“Who just happened to arouse the scrutiny of the IRS.”
Kate felt mortified for Jack. “Jack just needs to collect some documentation—”
“I don’t need you to defend me, Kate,” Jack interrupted. His dark eyes bored into her father’s as he said, “And I don’t owe you an explanation.”
“Like father, like son,” her father said quietly.
Jack moved so fast he knocked over a glass on the counter behind him, which fell into the sink with a crash of breaking glass. He stood feet widespread, fisted hands clenched at his sides as he said, “I’m nothing like my father!”
Her father had moved equally fast, rising from his chair so quickly it clattered to the floor behind him.
Kate grabbed Jack’s arm at almost the same moment she saw her mother take hold of her father’s. “What’s he talking about, Jack?” Kate asked.
She flinched when he jerked himself free. His jaw was clamped and his steady glare never wavered from her father’s face. Kate turned to her father and said, “What are you talking about, Daddy?”
Before her father could speak, Jack said, “My father’s a gambler. He’s addicted to it. Craves it like an alcoholic craves gin, or a drug addict craves crack cocaine. Incapable of stopping. Always making one more bet. Taking one more risk in hopes of finally cashing in. But always losing. Losing everything.”
The kitchen was silent except for the sound of Jack’s raspy breathing. She looked at Jack, her heart in her eyes. How devastating it must have been for him to be forced out of football because of a gambling scandal. Kate suddenly felt sure Jack had never shaved a point in football. Not with his history. Not when it was so obvious how much he hated gambling for what it had done to his father.
Kate sought for some way to break the awful tension in the room and said, “Why don’t we take a walk down to the river. Mom, you and Dad go on ahead. I’ll stay here with Jack just long enough to clear up this broken glass. There should still be plenty of light to see where you’re going.”
Her father turned to her mother and said, “Libby?”
“That sounds lovely.”
Kate stayed between her father and Jack, to be sure there was no chance for them to come to blows, and said, “We’ll join you in a few minutes.”
Her father narrowed his eyes at Jack, but her mother said, “I know the way, Clay,” and led him out of the house and down the dirt
path toward the river.
The instant they were out of hearing, Jack turned Kate so she was facing him and said in a harsh voice, “What the hell were you thinking?”
Kate frowned in confusion. “What has you so upset?”
“Your father hates my guts. I can’t believe you asked him—both of them—to spend the night, and then set it up so we have to sleep in the same room.”
“He doesn’t hate you.”
Jack snorted. “Right.”
“Anyway, it’s only pretend.”
“Tell me that when we’re alone in the dark in the same bed,” he countered harshly.
She shivered at the dangerous look in his dark eyes. “But—”
She was interrupted by her mother, who yanked open the screen door and said, “I’m sorry, Kate, but I have to leave.”
“But you can’t!” she protested, flummoxed by her mother’s abrupt return.
Her mother met her gaze, blue eyes brimming with unshed tears, and said, “Your father and I—”
Kate felt her stomach clenching as she realized that all her well-laid plans were falling apart. “But, Mom, you and Daddy—”
“Are at loggerheads again,” her mother said with a wan smile, as she stepped inside.
At that moment her father entered the kitchen, his own face dark as a thundercloud. She watched as her mother took a step away from him. Kate was appalled at this evidence that they’d already argued. What had her father said to upset her mother so quickly and so badly?
Then she looked at her father’s strained face and realized he was as distressed by whatever had been said as her mother was. “I need to get back to Austin,” he said in a tight voice. “We won’t be able—”
“No!” Kate interrupted in a panicked voice. “I’m not going to let you go, Daddy. Or you, either, Mom. I hardly see either one of you, and I was looking forward to all of us going riding tomorrow morning. You have to stay!”
She knew her parents loved her, even if they couldn’t comfortably spend time together. She saw the guilt that flashed in her father’s eyes, and the empathy and pain in her mother’s. She watched as they exchanged a glance of mutual consternation.
“May I add my own encouragement that you stay?” Jack said. “Kate has been so excited to see you. I very selfishly want to make her happy.”
The Next Mrs. Blackthorne (Bitter Creek Book 6) Page 11