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“You’re being sarcastic,” Gabe protested.
“Why are you asking? Did you two have an understanding? I mean, it seemed kind of harsh to think you’d abandoned her when things got bad.”
Gabe heard the note of censure in his friend’s voice and it hurt. He said, “I didn’t abandon her. I asked her to marry me, move to Dallas with me.” Cal just stared at him, and he added, “I was focused on—on myself. I didn’t realize how hard things were for her.”
“We can all be selfish bastards at times. But that’s better than walking away from her, leaving her hoping.”
Gabe wasn’t sure about that. He was beginning to feel guilty about his behavior ten years ago. And it made him mad. She could have said something!
“So, when you asked her to marry you, she said…” Cal waited for him to fill in the blank.
“She said she’d fallen for someone else.” After a glimpse of the sympathy in Cal’s gaze, Gabe looked away. “I guess she lied.”
“Probably. It was a bad time for all of them. Maybe she couldn’t think about leaving her family.”
“I would have waited!” Gabe muttered. She hadn’t even given him a chance.
“For ten years?”
“Hell! They could have moved with us. We would’ve worked something out.”
Both men sat in silence, thinking about the events ten years ago. Finally Gabe acknowledged, “Okay, maybe that’s not realistic, but—”
“Maybe you should be having this conversation with Katie. You might be able to work something out that would take care of that pesky will.”
“No!” Gabe yelled, overreacting, he knew. “No,” he repeated more calmly. “Too much water under the bridge.” He thought about the husband she’d had, the years, the…hurt. Nope, he wasn’t willing to offer his heart again, to be carved up at will.
Cal shoved his chair back from the table. “So, what have you got planned for the day?”
“I’ve made a list of things I need to do. I suppose I’ll see how many I can accomplish.”
“Are you planning on staying?”
Gabe looked at Cal, a question in his gaze, as he said, “I’m thinking about it. If I have any chance of inheriting Gran’s estate, I have to live here a year.”
“We’d like having you around,” Cal said warmly, answering Gabe’s unasked question. “We sometimes rodeo on Saturdays. Think you can still ride?”
Gabe grinned. “Better than you, cowboy. If I’m going to stay, I might buy a couple of horses. Would Spence or Tuck have any to sell?”
“I reckon. They usually do. In fact, the last time I was over at Spence’s, he had a fine-looking gelding. I was thinking about him myself, but I’ve already got more than I can ride.”
“I’ll check with him,” Gabe said, reaching for his briefcase and his list.
“You and your lists,” Cal teased, rising to his feet.
“Hey, it’s the only way to stay organized.” Gabe stood and extended his hand. “Thanks for the breakfast…and the friendship, Cal.”
“No thanks needed. I enjoyed the breakfast…and you already had the friendship.”
THE THREE GENTLEMEN in suits were not dressed like the normal customers of The Lemon Drop Shop. In spite of the distraction Katherine felt, scanning the town square for any sign of Gabe, she went on red alert when the men entered the shop.
“Is Mrs. Hill here?” one of them asked as he stepped forward.
“I’m Katherine Hill. How may I help you?”
“We’re from the TGM Corporation, owner of The Last Roundup franchises in Lubbock.”
“Are you Mr. Frizzell?” When the man nodded, she added, “I believe I spoke to you on the phone.”
“That’s correct. We thought it would be a good idea to taste your product.”
When she made the four carrot cakes for The Last Roundup each day, she also made one for her shop, which she sold by the slice. Since the gentlemen had arrived before lunch, she still had some available.
“Of course. If you’ll be seated, I’ll bring you each a sample.”
Evelyn and Mary were working in the kitchen. Katherine stepped through the doors. “Can one of you watch the counter for a few minutes? I’ve got a business meeting.”
Though their eyes were filled with questions, the two ladies didn’t ask anything. Katherine figured they’d seen her tension. There would be a lot of profit in selling twelve to fifteen carrot cakes every morning. She charged twenty-five dollars a cake, which still left a large profit margin for the restaurants.
She prepared a tray with pieces of cake and cups of coffee and carried it through to the table the men had chosen. Just as she finished serving them and sat down to discuss their interest, the door was shoved open, the bell over it ringing mightily.
“Katie, I want to talk to you,” Gabe Dawson announced, as if his needs had to be met at once.
“Excuse me,” Katherine murmured to the men, and crossed over to Gabe’s side. “I can’t talk right now. I have a business meeting. I should be free in half an hour.”
Gabe glowered at first her and then the men. “I won’t take long,” he insisted.
Katherine gritted her teeth. “Not now, Gabe.” Then she turned around and hurried to the other table. She didn’t know what Gabe would do, but she prayed he wouldn’t mess things up.
“Gabe Dawson!” Mary called out. “It’s good to see you, boy. Why don’t you sit down and let me pour you a cup of coffee. And we’ve got a couple of sausage rolls left over from this morning. If you don’t eat them, we’ll just have to throw them out.”
Katherine vowed to give Mary a bonus if she improved Gabe’s mood, as well as kept him occupied until she could finish with the businessmen.
They had already begun eating their cake. Katherine could tell by the expressions on their faces and the quickly disappearing cake that half the battle was won.
Mr. Frizzell daintily wiped his mouth with the lemon-yellow paper napkin after scarfing down his piece. He cleared his throat. “Yes, um, well, very tasty cake, Mrs. Hill.”
“Thank you.”
“This was baked this morning?” the second man asked.
“Yes, it was. I bake four cakes every morning for The Last Roundup and simply make an extra for the shop.”
“I guess you don’t have much left over,” the third man, a little more rotund than the other two, asked, beaming at her.
“No, I don’t,” she agreed with a smile.
“May we see your baking facilities?” Mr. Frizzell asked, and Katherine proudly led the way to her kitchen. She’d been in business for five years. Each year she’d plowed as much money as she could into updating her facilities. Now the large room was state-of-the-art, with four large professional ovens on one wall.
“Could you produce, say, three cakes each for our three locations in Lubbock each day, in addition to Jessica’s order?” Mr. Frizzell asked.
“Yes, of course. But I can’t deliver to Lubbock. I don’t have the personnel for that.” She held her breath. With Paul ready for college in the fall and Susan right behind him the next year, the extra profit would come in handy.
“No, we understand. We can take care of delivery, but the cakes would need to be picked up by nine-thirty each morning.”
“That wouldn’t be a problem.”
“And, since we’re ordering in quantity, I suppose you could give us a discount?”
Katherine paused, tempted to cut her profit to insure she got their business, but she knew how much profit Jessica made on her cakes. And she knew she made a good product. Taking a deep breath and praying they wouldn’t walk out, she smiled and said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Frizzell. While I’d like your business, I use the best ingredients in my product and I can’t lower my price.”
All three men frowned.
“Very well. We’ll let you know our decision,” the head man said, and they shook hands with her and left.
Katherine remained in the kitchen, standing there with her face buried in her hands, sure she’d just made a huge mistake.
“Katie!” Gabe snapped from the kitchen door.
She lowered her hands and turned around. As usual, she had no time for privacy.
“Yes, Gabe?”
“Do you have time to work me into your schedule?” he drawled, implying she’d put him off just to be difficult.
With a sigh, she picked up the decorating tube Mary had abandoned to work the counter and finished decorating the cake her assistant had been working on. “If you can talk while I work.”
She hadn’t looked at him after that first brief glance. When he said nothing, she finally looked up.
He was staring at Evelyn, who was pouring batter into several cupcake pans.
Evelyn, seeming to feel his stare, looked up. “Oh! Oh, do you want me to go to the counter?” she asked, looking at Katherine.
“No,” Katherine replied.
“Yes,” Gabe ordered.
Katherine’s gaze told Evelyn to go back to work. Then she said calmly, “The last I checked, this was my shop and Evelyn worked for me. Right?”
“I need to talk to you alone.”
His husky voice sent shivers down her spine, but she stood her ground.
“Then come back after the school rush, around four-thirty or five. Maybe I can spare you five minutes then.”
“Damn it, Katie, this is—”
“I told you to call me Katherine.”
“Fine, Katherine! I want information now. I can’t waste my entire day waiting for you to deign to give me five minutes.”
“Take it or leave it,” she replied, stubbornly continuing with her work.
“Is Jack Ledbetter the one you said—is he the one?”
Katherine knew at once what he meant. And she didn’t want any more questions in front of Evelyn, who was a dear soul but loved gossip more than anyone in Cactus. Taking a deep breath, she said, “Yes, he is.”
His voice sounding like a growl, he muttered, “I should have known.” Then he stomped out of the kitchen.
Katherine sagged against the counter and closed her eyes. First she’d lost the cake order. Then she’d had to deal with an angry Gabe.
“What about Jack?” Evelyn asked.
“I think Gabe has heard that Jack is sweet on Mom. I guess he doesn’t approve.”
“Oh, I think it’s wonderful. I’m happy for your mom,” Evelyn enthused. “Why, I remember…”
Katherine nodded at the appropriate moments as Evelyn recounted ancient history, letting her mind drift to the handsome man who was driving her crazy.
KATIE’S CALM WORDS kept playing over and over in his mind. “Yes, he is.”
She didn’t even appear to be ashamed to be dating a man old enough to be her father. Maybe even her grandfather! Okay, so maybe that was an exaggeration. But you’d think she’d be embarrassed to be thought a gold digger.
He gripped the wheel more tightly, wishing he could squeeze some sense into Katie. If she was that desperate for money— He broke off that dangerous thought. After all, he hadn’t offered to marry her.
She didn’t need to marry him to get money.
She could inherit Gran’s estate by not marrying anyone. Not even Jack Ledbetter.
“And that’s why I’m going to up the ante,” he muttered to himself. He turned the steering wheel so the car pulled off the main road onto Jack Ledbetter’s gravel driveway, parked and got out.
The man stepped out of the barn, several dogs at his heels. The dogs distracted Gabe since they closely resembled his dog, Jericho. His stomach didn’t feel good, either.
But he was going to take care of things…today.
“Well, I heard you were back in town, Gabe. Welcome. How are you?”
Hell, he didn’t want the man to be friendly. He crossed the distance between them and took the hand Jack extended. The dogs sniffed at his boots.
“These two look a lot like Jericho,” he muttered.
“They’re his kinfolk. Well, at least she is. I got the boy from a man in Lubbock. Didn’t want too much inbreeding,” Jack said, smiling easily. “You looking for a dog? I’ve got four pups to sell.”
That thought distracted Gabe. A dog? In Dallas, there’d been no point to having a dog. He was never home enough to spend any time with a pet. But a sudden yearning in his heart told him how much he’d missed having a dog.
“I might.” He cleared his throat. “But I have something else to talk about first.”
Jack’s eyebrows, black mixed with gray, rose up. “Well, sure thing. Want to come in? I can put on a pot of coffee.”
